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Como

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.

 

Activism, Christianity, Citizenship, Faith, Family, Freedom, Gratitude, Hope, Immigration, Neighbors, Prayer, Relationships, Simplicity, Spirituality

Freedom Party

The easterly winds gusted through here last night and left a bunch of fallen limbs throughout the yard. They dropped the temperature by a few degrees, even if it only fell into the eighties. This time of year, it’s much the same. It’s just plain hot, so I’m relishing in the cooler morning. I couldn’t help but notice that the Northeast is under a heat advisory since they’ll be above ninety degrees for seven days in a row. Even though heat advisories are no laughing matter, I still chuckle a bit. I guess it’s like when they laugh at us for closing school because we received a dusting of snow…

Like many of you, I’ve been watching the unfolding story of immigrant families on the border. News reports come out everyday that always seem to reflect the inhumane and confusing treatment of the people there. There were marches and protests in all fifty states over the weekend. The only positive thing I can find in all this mess is that people finally said ‘enough’ and took some action. It galvanized the public in a time of extreme divisiveness. At least we can agree on how human beings should be treated. How long it will be sustained is anyone’s guess. I hope it won’t fade away quietly when the media finds new sensational headlines.

Over the last few weeks, my time on the porch always seems to come back to the questions of ‘who are we’ and what is ‘patriotism’? I ran across a recent Gallup poll that reported only 47% of Americans feel ‘extremely proud’ of being American. That’s the first time that it’s no longer a majority since Gallup began asking the question some eighteen years ago. In looking at the polling, it seems that it’s been in a sharper decline since Trump was elected. I can understand that. I’m embarrassed at times, too…

One of my favorite recording artists is Jackson Browne. There’s a song on his 1989 release, World In Motion titled “I Am a Patriot”, and the bridge of the song sums up my ‘patriotism’, given this week’s Fourth of July holiday:

“And I ain’t no communist

And I ain’t no capitalist

And I ain’t no socialist

 

And I ain’t no democrat

And I ain’t no republican

I only know one party

And it is freedom

 

I am, I am, I am

I am a patriot

And I love my country”

Because my country is all I know”

 

‘Patriot’ is not a label many of my more conservative friends would assign to me. I’m okay with that because I believe my true citizenship transcends man-made boundaries. Yet, on this Fourth of July holiday, I feel a little patriotic when I see the polling numbers about civil embarrassment and the thousands of people that marched this weekend in support of keeping immigrant families together. Maybe others are questioning ‘who we are’, as well. I hope so.

To all of my American friends I wish you a Happy and safe Independence Day holiday.  Enjoy your day off with family and friends, eat lots of hamburgers, and enjoy the fireworks. To the rest of my friends around the world – I am truly embarrassed. Be patient with us. We’re still under construction…

Christianity, Emotional Health, Faith, Family, Gratitude, Growing Up, Health, Hope, Letting Go, Neighbors, Prayer, Recovery, Relationships, Simplicity, Spirituality, Trust, Work, Writing

Looking at sixty…

I know everyone is getting ready to celebrate the 4th of July but my Independence Day began at 9:15 this morning. My doctor pulled my PICC line and I’m free from my little IV buddy. You all are probably relieved as well. No more having to read about me being under house arrest. I still need to keep the dressing dry for another eight hours. Then, I can officially sweat again. That should be easy as the weather folks are saying it’ll be another 100-plus degree day. I stand in defiance and yell, “Bring it on”. “Free at last”…

Since I went to the doctor, I didn’t get to spend much time on the porch this morning. It’s probably just as well. The heat’s already difficult to deal with and the air seems very still and humid. It didn’t keep me from making another pot of coffee and perusing the newsfeed though. Through the dissonance of all the Monday morning news I found one article worthy of attention. The headline was something like “The One Thing People Over Fifty Regret Most”. I emailed it to myself for later and then the link didn’t work. I truly regret that I didn’t read the whole thing first…

Anyway, I did some research and found another list of the fifty things people over fifty regret the most. I’ll be fifty-nine for another month, so I guess I still qualify. As I read I began to feel better about my emotional and mental health. Of course, it could also be sociopathic behavior, but I prefer to think positively.

According to the MSN Lifestyle section, the number one regret among people my age is “ending a relationship with someone you loved”. I was a little surprised, but I can see that. There’s something about ‘the one that got away’ that seems to stay with us a long time. That hasn’t been my experience though. My first marriage didn’t work out so well. It was mostly my fault, but there’s no regret there. I stayed single for many years afterward. I dated and had a couple of long-term relationships that bring fond memories, but I can’t think of any regrets. I did for a long time but five-and-a-half years ago, I found out that God had something (or more accurately, someone) in mind for me all along. I married my best friend and the love of my life. Scratch off resentment number one…

The number two resentment listed was “not being more adventurous”. If I have any regret about this one, it has more to do with being too adventurous in my younger years. Then again, I could easily substitute ‘being adventurous’ with acting stupid. That’s far more accurate. I did a lot of stupid, and often insane things, now that I look back. In case my look backwards becomes cloudy, I have aches and pains (and the medical bills) to remind me of the foolishness of my youth. Boring is much easier on the body. Every now and then I get a wild hair and think I’m twenty-something again, and I’m quickly reminded I’m not…

As I went down the list, I realized that recovery, a relationship with the God of my understanding, and the love of friends and family has helped me come to terms with what were once regrets. I won’t lie and say I have none. I don’t think anyone can be totally free of regrets, but they’ve become manageable as I grow older.

What really surprised me about the Top Fifty Regrets was that kids and parents were way down on the list. Even though a lot of healing went into my relationships with my parents and children, I wish the damage had never occurred in the first place. My father passed in 2002 and my mother just last year. Not a day goes by that I don’t think of them and I often wish I had been a better son. I’m a hardhead and I know I was a handful. So, I try to live each day in a manner that makes them proud. I’m not sure if it constitutes a regret. I’m sure they smile on me today.

I know most parents wish they had done things differently. I sure do. Unfortunately, kids don’t come with instruction manuals and sometimes they pay dearly for our struggles as parents. I know mine did. I’m not confused about that today. I’m truly grateful when my boys go out of their way to show their love for me as their often imperfect father. My oldest came by the other night with a belated Father’s Day gift, a picture of Roger Staubach and Tom Landry on the sidelines back in 1969. If you know how I felt about the old Dallas Cowboys, you’d know how much it meant to me. Grace is such a wonderful thing…

Thankfully, my regrets list is small, although I could really understand number thirty-four on the list, “being ungrateful”. It took a long, long time to find gratitude in my life. I wish I had been more grateful for the life God gave me. An old friend used to always say “you lead such a charmed life”. I was in my late forties before I understood what she meant. I do lead a charmed life, despite a lengthy list of bad decisions and deplorable actions. That’s why, for me, everything is about grace and gratitude.

I think that the deeper one experiences the grace of a loving God, family, and friends, the easier it is to be grateful. That’s been my experience and observation anyway. When I’m honest enough to admit my failures and find forgiveness anyway, I can’t help but be grateful, and that gratitude leaves me with very little regret. Go figure…

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

Foxes and protest marches…

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, Emotional Health, Faith, Gratitude, Hope, Letting Go, Politics, Prayer, Recovery, Simplicity, Spirituality, Trust, Uncategorized, Writing

The only thing we have to fear…

It’s a gorgeous summer morning here on the porch today; a light southerly breeze moves the still cool morning air, reminding me not to think ahead to the afternoon heat. It’s almost the end of June and moments like these become fewer and farther between as the summer progresses.

I ran into an old friend last night that I don’t usually get to see except on Facebook and our annual breakfast on New Year’s Day. We talked for a bit and caught up on personal happenings and the conversation slowly moved to the current state of affairs. We share some of the same political views, most of which concern our incredulity that people could support a man like Donald Trump. Rumor has it that Mr. Trump keeps a copy of Hitler’s, Mein Kampf on his nightstand. I don’t know whether it’s true or not, but it makes sense…

I’ve learned that putting myself in other people’s shoes helps me to understand them better. When I gain a degree of understanding, I find I’m a little more empathic and less self-righteous and judgmental (and believe me, I can be that…). My wife has taught me that better than anyone else. She’s blessed to have the gift of empathy. She often helps me slow down and begin to see someone else’s circumstance and point of view. It’s helped me be more like the man I want to be.

I guess that’s why I’m not as harsh to those with opposite views anymore. I’ve tried to put myself in their place, to understand why they feel and act (and vote) the way they do. As I’ve grown older it makes more sense. I have moments when I, too, wish for the ‘way things were’. Nostalgia creeps in and the old times seem much better (and simpler), but life goes on. My Dad used to tell me that the only thing consistent about life is change…

The funny thing about nostalgia is that not much of it is true. Reality is always different from my memory. I tend to romanticize the good times, and rationalize, justify, and minimalize the not so good times – especially when they were the result of my decisions. I’ve learned that I’m not unique in that regard. Waxing nostalgic and ignoring reality is a common practice.

I’ve been hearing this phrase repeat itself over and over in my head lately – “Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it” (George Santayana). In recovery rooms they have a similar saying – “When I forget my last high I’m in danger of the next one”. So, I guess I’m not surprised when life seems to cycle over and over. In our collective nostalgia we vote in a Trump just like we voted in a Coolidge and a Hoover.

The good news is that a Roosevelt and a ‘New Deal’ is always on the horizon waiting for me (and us) to accept it. Like Roosevelt said, “The only thing we have to fear is fear itself”. Fear is pervasive in our culture today. Our culture, whether on the right or the left loves to create political, economic, and social fear. It’s no wonder people act the way they do. I do some incredibly dumb things out of fear as well…

The truly ‘Good News’ for me is that most of my fears are unfounded. Common sense tells me not to go around picking up rattlesnakes, but if someone didn’t, there wouldn’t be festivals like the Rattlesnake Round-up in Sweetwater. I’ll still leave that one for others, though.

Today I have faith in a God of my understanding who continually reminds me “Don’t be afraid”, “be still and know that I am God”.  He needs to remind me because I still have my moments. The world can be a scary place, especially if I substitute reality with nostalgia and denial. I know that no matter what happens, God has my back and everything’s going to be okay. That frees me to understand others and to act courageously and love freely. After all, my Rabbi likes to remind me that “perfect love casts out all fear”.

I’m pretty sure the world will go on as it has. History will repeat itself in a continuous, ongoing cycle, and people will long for ‘good old days’ that weren’t all that great. The good news is that it doesn’t have to, but that requires being fearless. I’m so thankful for those that are. I’m thankful that “all I have to fear is fear itself” and that I have freedom to be courageous. Let’s be fearless today…