Category: Communication

Activism, Christianity, Communication, Community, Faith, Freelancing, Gardening, Hope, Listening, Neighbors, Non-Profits, Patience, Prayer, Recovery, Relationships, Service Organizations, Spirituality, Uncategorized, Writing

Como

gregoryjoel

A couple of days ago I mentioned I had been sleeping late the last couple of weeks. I know 8:30 doesn’t sound late to some people, especially my kids (to whom noon would still be early), but I prefer getting up and getting on with my day. I can still hear my father say, “Get out of bed son, you’re burning daylight”. Apparently, his spirit has entered my dog Maggie, because she has limits on sleeping in as well. By 8:30, she decides I need a morning bath. She jumps up on the bed and licks any exposed skin – usually my face – until I get up and get moving. My father would be proud…

Margaret went back to bed after I got up. She’s had a rough week. We were out and about for several days and she worked on her quilting with her friend Mary. I love to be able to go places with my wife and I really appreciate her spending time with friends. The unfortunate consequence to that occurs in the following week. She pays for her time going places with a week in bed. Anyone who deals with chronic pain or fatigue knows what I mean.

So, my time on the porch was spent in solitude this morning. It was already beginning to get too hot to linger there, but I stayed for quite a while. There are days when the thoughts dart across my head like the squirrels chasing each other across our front lawn. I have difficulty focusing, my prayers seem stale, and it’s hard to listen for His side of the conversation anyway. I used to get really upset when this happened. Today, it’s God’s way of telling me it’s okay, relax and simply enjoy the morning. It took me a long time to learn how to do ‘nothing’. The irony is that by relaxing and letting the wandering thoughts be is that I become centered and begin to gain focus. Go figure…

I’ve been working on a project I’m truly passionate about. The initial research has been both rewarding and extremely frustrating. It deals with the problem of ‘food deserts’ and the lack of good food in low-income neighborhoods. Food availability truly is a class issue. Working toward a solution and food equality is something I’m proud to be involved in. I guess that’s why I got to thinking about a community garden project I was worked on several years ago for Dr. Brown in the Como neighborhood.

The Como community grew up around Lake Como, which was built in 1889. It was originally a thriving resort area. By the 1940s it became a predominantly African American community. It had its own ‘downtown’ which became the center of life for the community. However, decades later, downtown had disappeared, the local theater was torn down and an old beer and barbeque place was all that was left. It was on these vacant lots that Dr. Brown and his community organization, B.U.R.N. Ministries, decided to put a garden.

I went to work for Dr. Brown and the various groups of volunteers that came to help. Much of the initial labor came from the kids enrolled in the B.U.R.N. Ministries mentoring programs, the Mighty Men and Women of Grace, that came to help prepare the hard-scrabble soil for planting. Neighbors would walk by periodically and comment on our progress – usually telling us that nothing would grow there. We told them we were going to try anyway.

There was one gentleman that rode by on his bicycle and stopped to comment on a regular basis. Most of his comments weren’t positive – at least at first. He said to me,

“You white church folks come down here with all these big ideas without talking to us and finding out what we need. Then you go home and pat yourselves on the back for being of service to us poor black folks. We’re left to clean up the mess. Nobody asked us if we wanted a garden.”

 I didn’t have much of an answer for him, except to say that Dr. Brown lives and works in the community and this was part of a long-term plan. Eventually, the garden would be replaced by a school for the community. I finished the stuff I needed to take care of and went home. I thought a lot about what he said. The harsh reality is that he was right. Too often, we think we know what’s best for someone without ever asking the people we’re trying to ‘help’. We don’t like to listen to their needs, their opinions, and their visions

Despite what everyone said, the garden was successful, and I spent a lot of quality time with the kids. Even the gentleman on the bike changed his mind about the project when he saw us there daily, weeding, watering, and harvesting. It wasn’t a one-and-done weekend project. By being there daily, we formed a relationship and an understanding. My planting became based on the neighborhood’s wishes. I stayed and listened…

Learning to listen is not easy. It takes patience, something I’ve never excelled at. It’s much easier to plow straight ahead, believing that I know what’s best. My experience in Como gave me pause and made me look at my motives. Do I want to show up for a couple of days or weeks and take a lot of selfies with the local community or do I want to build on-going relationships? Am I trying to help others or trying to feel better about myself? Do I listen, really listen, or do I think I know what’s best?

In my professional life I work with mostly non-profits and faith-based organizations. I’ve noticed that the most successful organizations are those who listen and build relationships. Personally, I’ve found everything to be about relationships. My personal success and growth depends on the relationships I have with others. Those relationships develop by listening. I might hear you, but I can’t listen if I already know the answer…

My friend Edgar has taught me two valuable life lessons. One is “watch and listen”.  The other is that “self-sufficiency is a lie”. I’ve learned just how right he is. I need all the relationships I have in my life today. Some set an example of who I want to become, and some show me what I want to avoid. It’s only by listening and having relationships that I find out which is which.

 

Christianity, Communication, Emotional Health, Faith, Gratitude, Growing Up, Hope, Patience, Prayer, Recovery, Simplicity, Trust, Uncategorized, Writing

Wait….

gregoryjoel

A friend of mine once told me that for the first year of recovery, he couldn’t sleep for more than a couple of hours. He was tired all the time and affected his work. So, he went to see his doctor to ask for something to help him sleep. She specialized in treating patients with addiction issues. She patiently listened to his difficulties and when he asked for sleep medication she refused. She went on to say that when he needed sleep, he’d sleep. That was it, discussion over.

 During his second year of recovery, my friend went on to say that he slept all the time. He grew concerned and once again went to his doctor. She listened attentively to his situation and when my friend asked if there was a medication to help, she replied refused again. She told him that his body must need the rest and that eventually it would all even out. He’d find his rhythm again and everything would be okay. He shared this story when I was going through my own physical inability to get the rest I needed.  He found balance and later, so did I.

 I haven’t been sure what’s going on with me physically, but I’ve slept until eight or nine o’clock in the morning for the last week. My normal routine has always been to wake up around 6:30 or 7:00, start coffee, have some time on the porch, and settle down to work. Quite honestly, I was a little concerned until Margaret reminded me that I had been in the hospital and on home IV infusion until this past Monday. I thought of my friend and I decided not to worry about it. It’ll all level out…

 I must issue a disclaimer here. There’s no M.D. behind my name. I’m aware that people in recovery have often physically damaged themselves beyond norms. I’d never suggest that someone should or should not seek medical advice for physical or mental issues, but I’ve also learned that not everything has an immediate answer. In all areas of my life, especially spiritually, the answer to my questions is a simple ‘wait’. Sometimes you just need to hit the ‘pause’ button.

 Waiting is still difficult for me, especially if the situation is extremely uncomfortable. My biggest discomfort today is the disruption of my routine. For that I’m grateful, because I’ve experienced far more troubling times of crisis. As my friend Jim used to tell me, “In the meantime, it’s just a mean time”. Just wait, it’ll pass. I’ve gotten much better at the practice, but I still have a long, long way to go.

 I’ve tried everything I could think of to ease any discomfort I’ve felt; usually in ways that weren’t good for me. If I talked to Jim, he would listen to my rantings – for a minute anyway – and then tell me, “Cowboy, lack of power is your dilemma”. In other words, ‘just stop’! If “lack of power is my dilemma”, maybe I need to find power. That’s where trust and acceptance come in.

 Over the last few years I’ve come to a degree of acceptance that sometimes, life simply shows up in ways I don’t like. No one’s to blame. It’s just living. My friends often respond to my troubles by simply reciting the old cliché, “this ,too, will pass”. That pisses me off. I want an answer now! That’s when my friend Jim would remind me that ‘it’ll all be okay on Tuesday at 2:00’. It was his way of saying, ‘quit struggling and wait’. It really will be okay…

 Waiting was far more difficult prior to my relationship with the Creator. A couple of my friends point to this reliance and belief in a power greater than myself and say I’m shirking responsibility for my decisions. They are entitled to their opinion. I used to believe that waiting was weakness, that it was failure of some sort. Experience has proven that the opposite is true. Today, I’m responsible for the choices I make. They’ve proved rash and somewhat insane in the past. Today I pause. I make more responsible decisions and as a result, have better outcomes.

 Waiting takes courage. Prayer is not magic. It is heartfelt discourse with the God of my understanding. Sometimes I don’t like the answer, especially when it’s ‘wait’. Still, I need to listen for the answer. If I’m not listening, I might as well be talking to myself (more of my insanity). It takes courage to believe. It takes courage to wait.

 I guess my sleep patterns will get back to normal. I’ll be back to my routine soon. Life will go on, all is and will be.” In the meantime…

 

Christianity, Communication, Dogs, Emotional Health, Faith, Family, Gratitude, Immigration, LGBTQ, Marriage, Politics, Recovery, Spirituality

Foxes and protest marches…

gregoryjoel

Disclaimer: My editor, (Margaret) is out to a late breakfast and a movie with a friend of ours. It’s really hard to edit myself so please excuse any errors. I love you Margaret and your help is greatly appreciated. I love baby…

 

I slept in this morning. It was after nine o’clock when I was finally awakened by Miss Maggie giving me my morning bath. All you pet parents will know what I mean. Please understand that Maggie is half Catahoula and half coyote. She has her “wild” moments and she’s quite the huntress, catching birds in mid-air, and bringing dead rats and possums in the house. Her eyes are different from most dogs I’ve known. You would have to see them to know what I mean, but there’s an alertness and an awareness that’s goes well beyond that of domesticated dogs. I guess that what makes our bond so special. Our other two, Jameson and Sadie, favor Margaret, but Maggie is all mine…

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The porch was unbelievably pleasant this morning even though the sun had been up for a while. I sat with my wife for a while and got to speak to our kid before she left. I was curious as to why she was up so early. Classes are out for the summer and I know she was binge-watching Jurassic Park movies with friends last night. The only reason I was up early on Saturdays when I was twenty-seven was because I had kids by then.

 

I was extremely pleased when she told me she was off to the Families Should Stay Together march in downtown Fort Worth, protesting the insane, inhumane, and immoral immigration policies of Mr. Trump and his cronies. I’d love to be there, but I’m still tethered to my little IV buddy (only until Monday!) and can’t be in the heat. Margaret wanted to go as well. Even though she’s far more conservative than I am, she’s a mom and she’s outraged that families are torn apart. We asked Gael to please raise her voice a little louder and represent us as well.

 

Our daughter has officially `come out’ as transgender. Since she posted it on Facebook I don’t have a problem with saying it (or writing it) aloud. I’m not sure what all that means. She has asked us to refer to her in the third person. As a writer I have some difficulty with that. It’s just not proper English. However, out of respect for her I’ll refer to her in the third person for the duration of this post. I’m not sure how I feel about that if I’m honest with you and with her. It doesn’t make a difference though as I love our kid no matter how `they’ identify.

 

It’s taken me a long journey to reach that point. I was raised in a very conservative religious background, so I carried a lot of baggage into adulthood. Like everything else in life, it requires a lot of conversations, a lot of prayer, and a lot of meditation. I still don’t have all the answers, but I refuse to preach drivel when I know that all of us are God’s kids. If I’m wrong, and I don’t believe I am, God accepts us where and for who we are regardless of labels and identification.

 

I must admit that I don’t often understand all the labels. I know it’s important for people who have lived with discrimination and, often hate, to come out and let everyone know that they’re one of God’s kids just like everyone else. Growing up as a socially awkward introvert, I know what it’s like to bully to fit in with the crowd and be bullied because someone is different. I’m thankful that as time goes on, we’ve become more tolerant and less judgmental as a people. We still have a long way to go. I’m grateful for those who take a stand for dignity, equality, and what is right. I’m proud of who `they’ are.

 

When Margaret and I married five-and-a-half years ago, we decided that we had no `step’ kids. They were all our children, even if they were grown. So, when Gael asked if `they’ could move in with us, so `they’ could go back to college, we invited `them’ home, and this is `their’ home.  I emphasize that because we are known to have our occasional conflicts and frustrations. The reason has more to do with the fact that she’s so much like me than anything else. Even though I didn’t come to know her until she was a young adult, she’s like me in so many ways. She’s as passionate about loving others, social equality, and injustice as I am. It’s not surprising that we but heads from time to time…

 

So, that being said, `they’ probably don’t have a clue how special this morning was to me. I’m proud that `they’ are marching today, and a heartfelt thank you out to `them’. More than that, it was when `they’ were leaving this morning, Gael went in a brought me out a cup of coffee. I know that sounds incredibly trivial and unimportant. It’s what `they’ brought in that was super special.

 

When Gael moved in, `they’ had a coffee mug that was singled out as one we couldn’t use. It was `their’ `fox’ mug and had special meaning for her. We’ve always respected `their’ wishes and we’ve never drank from it before. When Gael brought my coffee, guess what it was in! I wouldn’t have been surprised if we were short on coffee mugs, but the dishes are done and there’s no shortage in our house, believe me. I don’t know whether it was intentional or not, but Margaret tells me it’s a big deal. Heck, I was just thankful `they’ brought me a cup of coffee. I didn’t know I was getting so much more.

 

So, Gael, I’m sure it’s hot and uncomfortable downtown this morning, but thank you for being there and for simply being you. I’m proud of you and want you to know I love and appreciate you – even when I’m a stubborn old fart…

Christianity, Communication, Emotional Health, Faith, Family, Growing Up, Health, Hope, Neighbors, Positive Thinking, Prayer, Recovery, Relationships, Simplicity, Spirituality, Trust, Uncategorized

“Won’t you be my neighbor?”

gregoryjoel

Another busy day lies in front of me so my time on the porch this morning has been extremely brief. Add to that the fact that it felt like I opened the oven door instead of the front door when I went out this morning and you’ll understand why I didn’t stay too long. I can only imagine how my son will feel as he just returned from Alaska late last night. Talk about temperature shock! It reminds me of a September camping trip I made to Colorado some years back. When I broke camp to come home it was 21 degrees outside. When I got back to Texas eleven and a half hours later it was 105 degrees. That’s the way it goes in North Texas…

 

Anyway… Despite the busy day ahead, I made up for the lack of time on the porch by lingering over my news and reader feeds this morning. I’m sure I’ll feel guilty for ineffective time management later, but I needed to feed my news addiction as well as follow my favorite writers and their blogs. The day just wouldn’t be the same without it.

 

I came across one article that really caught my eye. It was a commentary on Mr. Rogers, the beloved children’s show host who passed in 2003. I never was a fan of his show when I was younger. I don’t ever remember watching public television until well after I had outgrown shows like Mr. Rogers’ Neighborhood and Sesame Street. By 1968, when Mr. Rogers’ Neighborhood debuted, I was more interested in hanging out with my friends and declaring my adolescent independence. My sister, who is six years younger, was far more familiar with them than I. As I grew older, my knowledge of Mr. Rogers came from the comedy skits on Saturday Night Live or the Fireside Theater. When I finally had kids of my own, they weren’t very interested in public television. They preferred Power Rangers, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, and the like when they did watch television. Most of the time they were outside being boys.

 

So, I didn’t take Mr. Rogers seriously until my grandkids introduced him to me. What I found was a man who simply loved people, especially children. There was a simple message, even to adults. I was listening to NPR the other day and heard an interview with the director of a new documentary about Fred Rogers. One of the things parents and children alike forget about him, is that he was an ordained Presbyterian minister. I didn’t know that he was ordained to specifically minister to children. He carried out his mission so well. I’m glad someone thought enough of him to produce a documentary. I can’t wait to see the movie.

 

I suppose it’s a bit ironic that I learned to appreciate a man who hosted a children’s show now that I’m in my fifties. Somehow, his simple message seems more real (and needed) than ever before. It reminds me of Robert Fulghum’s book, All I Needed to Know I Learned in Kindergarten. Maybe that’s why Jesus said we need to become like little children to enter the kingdom of God? The messages about trust, making good decisions, and trusting the adults who love us (and hence the One who loves us) seem even more important today than ever.

 

Richard Gunderman, in his commentary in The Conversation on June 8th of this year says, Rogers believed that the need to love and be loved was universal, and he sought to cultivate these capacities through every program, saying in a 2004 documentary hosted by actor Michael Keaton, one of his former stagehands, “You know, I think everybody longs to be loved, and longs to know that he or she is lovable. And consequently, the greatest thing we can do is to help somebody know they’re loved and capable of loving.” I can’t think of a better calling, a better way of living. I want to be like Mr. Rogers when I grow up…

 

Gunderman goes on to point out:

 

“In preaching love, Rogers wasn’t just attending to the moral character of his youthful audience. He believed that he was also promoting their health. As he said in 1979, “My whole approach in broadcasting has always been, ‘You are an important person just the way you are. You can make healthy decisions.’ Maybe I’m going on too long, but I just feel that anything that allows a person to be more active in the control of his or her life, in a healthy way, is important.”

Since Rogers’ death, evidence has mounted that he was on to something — namely, that love and kindness truly are healthful, and that people who express them regularly really do lead healthier lives. Simply put, people who are generous and volunteer their time for the benefit of others seem to be happier than those who don’t, and happy people tend to have fewer health complaints and live longer than those who are unhappy.”

I thought of all the people in my life. For the most part, they tend to have one thing in common: they tend to love others well. They seem to have this idea that the most important question one can ask in life is, ‘How can I help?’ They are loving, kind, and happy. Given the scientific discoveries about happiness and good health, most of them will be with me a while. At least, I hope so…

I sure would like to be a part of the neighborhood Mr. Rogers lived in. I guess I’ll just have to be a good neighbor here. I don’t own any of his trademark cardigan sweaters, but I can always ask, “Won’t you be my neighbor?”

Christianity, Communication, Emotional Health, Faith, Family, Gardening, Gratitude, Growing Up, Health, Hope, Recovery, Relationships, Uncategorized

A Big Thanks!

gregoryjoel

I’m going to be brief today. Time on the porch is never a distraction. It centers my morning, but this morning I had to set priorities for meeting deadlines on a couple of projects. The consequence is very little time to write (and wait for my editor, so please forgive any errors…).

I told my wife that I’ve been extremely emotional the last couple of days. It’s a positive emotional state. I simply become overcome with gratitude and little things start the tears flowing. I still have difficulty admitting that I shed tears over such small (and what I tend to call silly) things. Thankfully, I hear my friend Edgar’s voice reminding me that “we cry like a man today”. Men can and do cry. We just don’t like anyone to know…

Anyway, I just wanted to take a moment to tell those who follow or simply read my posts from time to time a heartfelt thank you. I read your posts and others as well and I’m so happy to have such a great community. Thank you for going for going on the ride with me. And what a ride it is…