Category: Freelancing

Christian Mysticism, Christianity, Chronic Illness, Communication, Dogs, Emotional Health, Faith, Freelancing, Gratitude, Growing Up, Health, Hope, Horses, Listening, Love, Patience, Prayer, Relationships, Spirituality, Uncategorized, Writing

Straight From the Horse’s Mouth

gregoryjoel

Relief is in sight for the beleaguered! The forecast for the day is for cooler temperatures, at least for the next two or three days. Only in Fort Worth would we be excited by temperatures in the mid-nineties. Such are summers in Texas…

The last few days have been hectic, so I thought I’d take a break and catch the online sermon from church last Sunday morning. I’m still questioning the idea of worship in the corporate setting, so my ‘attendance’ remains online. I value the thoughts of our preacher, even if I’m still uncomfortable with how we do ‘church’ in our culture. Unfortunately, the livestream of the sermon kept disconnecting. It doesn’t happen often, but it does happen. I can relate to that. For the last two or three days, my prayers have been few and far between. I’ve been feeling a little low and my connection with my Higher Power is in a constant cycle of cutting out and reconnecting. I’ve felt like I’ve been in a constant ‘buffering’ state and I can’t quite reach 100%.

Connection problems can and do happen. God’s end may always broadcast a strong signal, but my reception gets spotty from time to time. The connection difficulties are always on my end. When it happens I often have to stop and clean out my ‘antennae’. Occasionally, I get far too busy, over-tired or just plain lazy and my mind gets clogged with self-pity, resentment, and self-centeredness. I begin to sound much like Eeyore in A.A. Milne’s, Winnie the Pooh – “Woe is me, I can’t find my tail…”

I’m not unique. Some of the most spiritual people I know feel a disconnect from their Higher Power on occasion. The sixteenth century Spanish mystic, St. John of the Cross, called this disconnect, “the dark night of the soul”. For those of us who pray, who converse with the Spirit of the Universe, we know what he’s talking about. There are times when it feels like prayers fall on deaf ears. We listen intently for answers that don’t come. God is silent. We feel alone, left to our own devices.

When I feel isolated and disconnected, I begin to wonder where God is. I start to question my faith. I’m filled with doubts: little ones at first that multiply into crisis of faith. I used to think this was anathema to me. My upbringing had taught me that questioning one’s faith destined me to the fires of hell. That haunted me for many years, but today I know that faith without questioning is not much of a faith at all. God is much bigger than my doubts. If I continue to pray and listen I will hear God’s response in the most extraordinary, yet simple, ways.

I do some work at a stable not far from my home. Don’t tell anyone, but I’d do it for free just because I love being there. There are three horses, Dollar, Lightfoot, and Trooper (‘the boys’ as I call them). Dollar is the oldest, at seventeen. The other two are two or three-year-old rescues; adopted wild mustangs from herds in Arizona and Utah.

IMG_2039

Now I am no ‘horse whisperer’ by any means, but I’ve developed quite a relationship with Trooper and Lightfoot. I was warned they were skittish around people, but that hasn’t even been close to my experience. They have loved and ‘hugged’ on me since the day we met. When I pull up to the stables, they amble over to say hello and let me love on them.

They are one of the ways I find reconnection with my Higher Power. I leave the stables with my spirit more in tune with the universe. There’s a buzz, a vibration, and I begin to hear God whisper. Decisions come easier. Heck, life becomes easier. My mind is free to explore the realm of possibilities, to work and play again. Most importantly, I begin to feel a sense of belonging, of being a part of something far bigger than I. My gratitude grows, and my doubts are erased. All of this happens by simply allowing God to love on me through others, whether they have four legs or two.

I’m basically an introvert. I find the company of my dogs and the horses to be my safe, comfortable place. My beautiful wife, on the other hand, is extremely social and extroverted. She loves to be on the go and around others. I often joke that I’d been more places in the first year of marriage than I had in the previous ten. For that reason, the last almost three years since her back surgery have been hard on her. I’m thrilled when she’s able to get out. I know it’s her way of reconnecting, of hearing God’s voice.

God’s voice becomes clear through our relationships with people and the world around us. When I’m aware of the beauty of creation, I strive to be a better steward of God’s world. I believe that God’s silence is simply His way of reminding me of the importance of relationships, whether they be with dogs and horses or the people in my life. His silence reminds me of the spirit of all things that connect me to the universe. His silence reminds me to be grateful, to be awestruck, and to drink in the beauty of all things.

Most importantly, His silence is a reminder He’s still there, loving me through ‘the dark night of the soul’. Those days, whether measured in weeks or years, will come for all of us. Feelings of doubt and even futility, but they will pass eventually, and probably do so in the most unlikely of ways. It might even come straight from the horse’s mouth…

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, Emotional Health, Faith, Freelancing, Gratitude, Marriage, Service Organizations, Simplicity, Uncategorized, Work, Writing

Passion…

gregoryjoel

I had an early morning doctor appointment this morning, so my time on the porch was brief. By the time I got home the porch was getting a bit warm. According to the meteorologist on last night’s news, it looks like the upper nineties and triple digit heat will be here for a while. That leaves a smaller window for enjoying the porch (in comfort, at least).

I read a brief article this morning about how finding one’s passion isn’t always the best advice when it comes to employment. It seems it tends to create a certain degree of tunnel vision that may not allow one to see other possibilities and limit human growth. I’m not sure why, but that’s been bothering me all morning.

My wife and I have this conversation from time to time. One of my sons is an artist. He comes complete with all the personality one might expect when one thinks of an artist. He’s incredibly bright and, has what he calls, an extreme case of Adult ADD. He started drawing on the walls when he was a toddler and hasn’t stopped since. Many of his personal and collaborative murals can be found throughout Fort Worth

Jeremy is one of the ‘up and comers’ in the art scene. He’s curated several shows and exhibited in other cities. His gallery opening at Fort Works Art was a huge success. Last week he made the cover of Fort Worth Weekly, our weekly magazine and the headline said, “Inside Jeremy Joel’s Brain”. I must admit that the idea scared me a bit. After all, I’m his father and anyone with kids knows, eccentricities aren’t always pleasant to deal with. Still, I’m unbelievably proud of him, though I’ll be the first to tell you I’m not very objective.

I’m proud of all our kids and I don’t want any of them to think I’m singling out Jeremy for praise. I never wanted to stifle any of my children’s passion. They are all very different, with unique talents, interests, and careers. I mention Jeremy because he struggled with the question of art versus work and passion versus making a living. I haven’t always liked his decisions along the journey, but it appears he’s on track with the thing he loves to do.

I’m always a little jealous of those that seem to find a way to make their passion their living. It wasn’t that way for me. It took me almost fifty years to become passionate in my work.  Today, I ‘get to’ get out of bed, put the coffee on, and spend some time on the porch getting centered in my day. I step into my office where I often share some thoughts with all of you and spend the rest of the day working on writing projects and events that I’m extremely passionate about. I work mostly with non-profit and faith-based organizations. I feel like I make a difference in the world. I wish I’d done it a long time ago.

I’ll be sixty years old in a couple of months. I’ve worked since I was eleven years old. I started as a paper boy and went on to become a gas station attendant (do any of you remember them?), a cook, and a construction worker by the time I was ready to start my ‘career’. I won’t bore you with all the details, except to say that when I got to college (I went on the ten-year plan), all I wanted to become was a college professor or teacher. I tell you this because that was my passion, and that’s not what I followed…

I decided that pleasing my father was more important than doing what I loved. You see, my parents lived through the Great Depression. That experience shaped the way they viewed work. My Dad was fortunate enough to land a job with the railroad when he was seventeen. A railroad job was coveted employment back in the forties. Except for the months he was drafted, he worked his way up through the ranks and continued there until he took early retirement at fifty-seven, with forty years of service. That my friends, was the job he wanted for me.

That wasn’t the case for me. My parents lived back here in Fort Worth and would call me in Colorado every week (we still used landlines and got charged for long distance calls – I know! Crazy, right?). My Dad would ask about school and then ask me if “I was still going to teach or was I going to get a job”. He would often remind me that “those who do, work and those who can’t, teach”. I certainly didn’t agree with him, but I chose to please him rather than continue with teaching. It wasn’t long before I found myself a single father and had felt like I had no choice but to follow my father’s advice. I went on to work for various companies and, while I was good at my work, always regretted not pursuing my passion for teaching.

I guess that’s why I’m a little bit jealous of Jeremy. I wish I had followed my passion. I’ve heard it said that “do what you love, and you’ll never work a day in your life”. I’ve found that to be true over the last few years. So, when Margaret and I have these conversations I tend to lean on the side of passion. She tends to lean towards the ‘do whatever you have to for your family’. I’d like to think that maybe there’s a balance, but maybe balance is often just ‘the beam I trip on while running between extremes’.

One thing I know for sure is that ‘making a difference’, no matter what I’m doing, has become a core value in my life today. I’m inclined to think that maybe work, no matter what it is, should be a way of ‘making a difference’. Maybe if that’s the passion, we can all find jobs we love. Just a thought…

Christianity, Emotional Health, Faith, Freelancing, Gardening, Prayer, Recovery, Relationships, Spirituality, Uncategorized, Writing

No Compromise…

gregoryjoel

I didn’t spend much time on the porch this morning. I don’t handle the heat as well as I used to. The little buddy on my hip, my IV infusion, makes the heat even more difficult to bear. I’m glad I made some changes in my professional life over the past year, but I really miss being outdoors much of the time. At least I’m able to spend time in my garden, even if it is in short spurts. I’m sure I’ll be able to be out more after this IV infusion therapy is over in a couple of months. Remember the “patience is a virtue” thing…

I’m grateful for the opportunity I’ve been given to practice patience today. I’m often guilty of trying to stay so busy that I fail to take care of myself. When I’m so busy that I let myself get run down it becomes difficult to hear the gentler, quiet voice of creation. I begin to feel “irritable, restless, and discontent”, as my elders warned me I would. I start to resent having to meet others needs and move toward total self-centeredness. Feeling too tired and over-stretched is a dangerous place for me to be.

I mention all this because of an article I read this morning that really struck me “right between the eyes”. It was talking about taking on work that compromises my values, my self-worth, and the future of my business. As a business owner and freelance writer, it really hit home. If I’m honest, I’ve been guilty of compromise and thus, suffered the consequences.

Thirteen years ago, I started a back-to-work program for a local non-profit providing transitional housing and social services for the homeless HIV/AIDS community. What I don’t often share, lest it affect my professional life, is that I was one of those on the receiving end of their services. I had only been in recovery for a few months but had lost my home, my health, and my family when I finally surrendered and began a new chapter in my life. I had been fortunate enough to do well professionally (if one can do well) until the last few months of my active addiction. My experience in business writing, operations management, and Human Resources made starting such a program much easier. Still, I’m grateful for the “gift of desperation” that led to a new relationship with the God of my understanding.

The “back-to-work” program, Hope Works, grew quickly: not so much in the number of people participating as in the profitability of the landscape portion of the program. To make a long story short, I was asked to buy-out that portion of the program and spent the last few years as a landscape and an outdoor living contractor. That’s when things changed.

Fear is an insidious beast that creeps in slowly. The article I mentioned earlier said that there were times when compromise is appropriate: like when first starting out for instance. I’m not sure I agree with that. My experience has taught me that lowering price to get the job has far reaching consequences. If the purpose of my business is to gain repeat customers and personal referrals, then the existing or potential customer learns to value my time and energy less for the next job. Moreover, I begin to resent the time I’m spending on their job. My resentment increases and my self-worth decreases. I treat people how to treat me. Go figure!

Every time I’ve compromised to get a job there have been consequences. Personally, and as a landscape contractor I’ve always worked organically, without the use of chemicals and pesticides that I know damage the creation I’m to be a steward of. For the first few years I had a policy of “organic only”. I wouldn’t take on a customer who wanted something other than organic lawn and garden care. However, after my first stroke I lost a lot of customers because I had to reschedule so many jobs. When I got back to full-time work I began to compromise my “organic only” policy. I needed to rebuild my business! The “what ifs” had crept in. It may sound silly to you, but I felt terrible because I knew I had violated my values. Although I’d offered a temporary solution to their landscaping issue, I’d caused long-term damage to their yard and the creation I’m so passionate about defending.

So why do I compromise? Simply put, it’s because I’m scared. Intellectually, I know that God loves me and holds me in high regard. He’s never let me down. Looking backward, the evidence of His care is 100% true. I can intellectually know that and still be in emotional fear. What if I don’t get the job? What if I go without? How do I provide for my family? The questions go on and on. Where is my faith in the middle of all of this? I’m convinced that fear is the root of all my troubles – I compromise out of fear.

There were many reasons why I decided to return to freelancing full-time – I’m getting older, I don’t handle the heat as well as I used to, the frustrations of dealing with employees and subcontractors, and the fact that I can be at home more often for Margaret – but the bottom line is that I’m good at what I do, and I bring value to my clients. Starting this new business venture has been slow-going and frustrating at times. I’ve had to say no to potential business – they wanted me to compromise the value of my services – and there’s been a lot of “what ifs” and self-doubt. The difference is that I set a “no compromise” policy when it comes to potential business – even when I’m scared about the future. Contrary to popular belief, faith isn’t merely the absence of fear. It’s the ability to walk through it. It’s ironic that in doing so, I experience more success than I ever have, and my clients benefit as well. Moreover, it’s brought me far more meaningful projects and one’s that I’m more passionate about.

There are times when compromise is necessary. After all, the world isn’t always black and white and relationships – personal, business, and social – are fluid, never static. We “go along to get along”; but compromising who (and who’s) I am, is not up for negotiation. The Rabbi asked:

“If God gives such attention to the wildflowers – most of which are never even seen – don’t you think he’ll attend to you, take pride in you, do his best for you? What I’m trying to do her is to get you to relax, to not be so preoccupied with getting, so you can respond to God’s giving… Steep your life in God-reality, God-initiative, and God-provisions. Don’t worry about missing out! You’ll find all your everyday human concerns will be met”. (Matthew 6.30-33 The Message)

Fear still creeps in, but I don’t compromise my value today. I do good work. I listen to my client and the needs of their audience. That’s highly valuable to my client, my community, and myself. That seems to spur me on to an even better work for them – and myself. Moreover, I don’t worry (at least not as much!) like I used to. It’s definitely the “easier, softer way” (some of you know where I got that…) of living I always dreamed of. It’s so much easier to do and be my best when I’m willing to say “no” to compromise. I’m a “people-pleaser” by nature so saying “no” wasn’t so easy at first, but it’s become easier, and I’ve grown from it’s benefits.

There was a show on television yesterday about the decade of the Eighties and I saw a clip about Nancy Reagan’s “Just say no” anti-drug campaign. I’m not so sure it was a great motto for avoiding drugs, but it sure makes living in my skin a lot easier. My advice to you then is “Just say No”…