GAME CHANGER

Good morning, all. Here's my latest for you. I hope you have a game changing day.


GAME CHANGER

The players are milling about at field’s edge
clumping here and there on the sidelines and bantering excitedly. 
Some are bending in half and then half again it seems,
stretching their lanky frames while eyeing askance their enemies afar
Some, the loners, pacing, prancing
dancing their ball off the toes of their sleek leather-laced feet. 
Some waving frantically--practically blowing kisses--to their late-arrival star-mates,

The spectators are here, too, 
tush cushions insulating a “Be prepared!” few from the chill of the aluminum bleachers 
Water bottles and Starbucks cups orbiting lap to lip, lap to lip, lap to lip
A smatter of chatter erupting here then there...old jokes, new recipes, 
fresh-off-the-farm gossip crooned while awaiting the whistle.

And then, of course, there are the officials,
always at the ready with their rules,    
preened and primed to bellow out their calls. 
Good, bad, maddening, what they say stands. 
After all, they are the powers that be, right?

And finally, the all-essential game ball.

Some days, especially bad days, I feel like I'm that ball,
Small and even paltry compared to the real players in the game, 
Like I’m someone else’s patchwork, full of air, often hot
Butting heads, tossed about, booted this way and that 
So close to glory then “Youch!” 
kicked willy nilly silly again. 

I ask myself, “How did I get here?”
How did I wind up at the epicenter of all this?
I want to scream, “I didn’t ask to be in this game, God.
Come to think of it, God, YOU didn’t ask me if I wanted to be in this game either!”
The players, the spectators, the officials. God? All of you taking me for granted.
Just assuming I’m going to put on my smiley face and say, “Here, kick me!”

On good days though,  
I remember that no, I’m not the ball.
I’m not the players, the spectators, the officials.
And no, lucky for you,
I’m not God either.

And then comes the game changer,
the one and only rule I must remember:
No matter the “players”, the “spectators”, the “officials,” 
when it comes to life, 
the moment I come to life
is when I realize anew
that the real powers that be
lie within me.

I CAN. I WILL. I AM.

I love short pithy sayings that can quickly grab hold of a negative thought by the scruff of the neck and lead it back to the fold. This saying, “I can. I will. I am,” is one of them. I say it when I discover my mind is babbling to itself again, saying something like, “I can’t do this. It’s too hard...I won’t follow through with this, remember last time, Jer?...I am not the right person for this. I don’t have what it takes.” I like to say it when I’m feeling fearful or tentative or doubtful about being able to accomplish something important to me. For that matter, I like to say it whenever my mind is loitering on the sucking edge of a number of mental black holes it frequents.

Why do I do this?

In early February of this year, after the entourage of new year’s resolutions had resumed their annual hibernation, a sign outside a bar caught my eye. It said, “Brand new year...Same old you. We have a beer for that.” While I didn’t take the bait and I don’t adhere to that particular marketing strategy, I must admit I can relate to the feeling. And when I become conscious of it, that’s the precise moment when I repeat this saying, “I can. I will. I am.” For me, it can have a surprisingly cathartic and empowering effect. Let’s face it, we all have scripts scampering back and forth between our ears all day--and all night--long. Some are good. Some are bad. Some are ugly. This is one way I tame mine.

Sometimes it surprises me (more honestly...my ego) that I have to dumb myself down to such a grade-school level in order to get over, around or through some bowel obstruction of the brain I've created. But truth be told, I do. In fact, sometimes I have to repeat it many times over (good)--sometimes aloud (better)...sometimes shouting it (best). Of course, I have to be alone to get myself worked up enough to do this last one. What can I say? I’m a Norwegian introvert of farmer ancestry.

Seriously, it shifts my brain’s trajectory. It returns my thoughts to their normal and natural path of wellbeing after my mental train has jumped its track. It works...and does so surprisingly quickly. And as if this weren't enough, occasionally I’ll realize that my mind has been saying this to itself without my conscious effort. Eureka! In that moment I’ve rescripted my brain. That’s something almost impossible to do for two reasons: One, we don’t realize we actually can do it. And two, we don’t realize just how easily it can be done.

This particular mantra is one of many I like. Sometimes, as in this case, I’ll custom tailor one to suit my own idiosyncratic self. Sometimes, I’ll choose one that I’ve heard or read somewhere--like another of my favorites: “Never let what you can’t do keep you from doing what you can.” (This one is particularly clarifying and freeing when many of us are sheltering in place and all of us are experiencing restrictions of some kind. Under such conditions it’s somewhat natural but certainly unfruitful to laser-focus on the relatively few things we can’t do compared with the truly infinite number of things we can.)

Right now, as we live in this surreal moment brought on by the Covid-19 pandemic, it’s a good time to practice saying these revitalizing words--or some of your own choosing--to ourselves, about ourselves and most importantly, for ourselves--though ultimately, I believe, it’s the world that will benefit the most. (Just ask your closest and most candid loved ones which "you" they prefer!) To me, doing so is of paramount importance if we want to get beyond our own seemingly intransigent stumbling blocks--the ones that are keeping us from being the joyful, creative and generous humans that, beneath all the folderol, we truly are.

Our positive and loving self talk soothes, calms and inspires us. It hugs us. It kisses us. It opens our spirits up, softens our edges, and expands our compassion for all that exists. Is there anything your loved ones, your neighbors or our beautiful world--the one that is throbbing in pain right now--needs more than this? It'll may take some mental training, but this I know: It works...and it will go to work for us if we practice it long enough to let its incredible potential sink into our psyches. For me personally, “I can. I will. I am.” is an all-purpose affirmation and a powerful motivator that gets me--and keep me--doing the things that I believe are of paramount importance. I trust it will do the same for you.

TODAY. DO YOURSELF AND THE WORLD A FAVOR.
TAKE TIME TO THINK ABOUT HOW YOU THINK

WHEN MY DAY IS STILL SOFT

Here's a poem I finished writing this morning to help you start--or perhaps jumpstart--your day. Enjoy!


WHEN MY DAY IS STILL SOFT

I love coming to you, O day,
in this moment of early morning
when all is still soft, is still malleable, still maybe.

When there is still dew on the bright yellow forsythia petals
and I am infused with the delicate fragrances of spring’s dawn
before her golden tresses are swept from her face by the morning breeze.

When your potential is still full and rich...infinite.
And, ever so briefly, you hold at bay
the stale leftover worries of the night
and the spirit-tainting concerns already knocking at this day’s door.

When, like the wind filling a ship’s sails,
you breathe into me, you inspire me,
and gently sway me toward this course and not that one,
toward this harbor and not that one.

I love coming to you, O day,
when life is still in limbo,
its eyes casting outward, upward, onward,
with hope and promise wrinkling their corners in joyful possibility.

Soon, too soon, the din will begin again,
and I, with the rest of the world,
will rise to the choices and challenges laid before me;
Demands that only I can deem worthy of my essence and energy.

Then, before I know it, the evening’s allure will beckon me homeward
and, when looking back over the shoulder of my day,
I will see that yet another page of my small but sacred history
has been irrevocably carved into the gray muted stones of time.

That moment’s inevitability will be upon me sooner than I wish,
but here...now...I relish still your sweet softness
that pulls me close and whispers into the ear of my soul,
“I am yours.”

LET'S MAKE A DIFFERENCE IN PLACE

Since shortly after the Coronavirus (Covid-19) hit, many of us have been wondering about what contribution we can personally make to help us all get through the devastation and death we’re experiencing on so many levels. Many, if not most, have felt that their personal lives and life itself has become increasingly confusing and chaotic in recent times--and that was before Covid-19 arrived! Now we find ourselves immersed in a global scenario the likes of which we’ve never known much less imagined. 

How do we navigate the surrounding emotional morass of fear, grief, anxiety, greed, anger and loneliness and not get swallowed up by it? (There’s a saying for this…”When you’re up to your ass in alligators it’s hard to remember you came to drain the swamp.”) How fitting! And how do we keep the powerful twin monsters of helplessness and hopelessness--to say nothing of the physical and economic implications that are swirling just beneath the surface--at bay? 

“Me? Make a difference?” We say, “I’m just trying to stay alive! Besides, I can’t fix this!”

Then again, maybe you (and I) can. 

Thankfully, in the midst of the pain, fear and daily sacrifice, we are being inundated with examples of hope, compassion and integrity. With each passing day we are being increasingly inspired by the initiative, resolve and creativity of people all around us--sometimes at great personal cost.  If we step back from all this we see that the two; the current storm of suffering and the abundance of inspiring responses to it, beg one question: Where can you and I make a difference...right here right now...right where we are? Or a better question: While we’re “sheltering in place” how can we “make a difference in place?”

Long ago and far away a teacher of mine made a statement that literally stopped me in my tracks. He said, “Make sure you always take time to think about how you think.” Think about how you think?! It was a novel enough idea, but how does one actually do that? Can our brains really double back on themselves? It’s certainly not a practice in which many of us are formally trained. Nor is it one that comes naturally to us. But, hearing my teacher’s sage counsel, I was glad I showed up for class that day. It was one of those “when the student is ready the teacher will appear” moments. Ever since then I’ve carried his advice with me, tucked away like a handkerchief in the back pocket of my brain. 

Now’s a time to pull it back out. Why? Because we’re living in an incredibly unique, if ominous, moment of history in which we need to do our very best and most creative thinking. Each of us! It’s not just the doctors, scientists and medical professionals and not just to our government officials, corporate entities or rich philanthropists to whom we are tempted to turn for a cure or vaccine or relief who will resolve this dilemma. This moment in history is calling--if not begging--for the best in all of us! 

These three things we know: We can’t go back. We can’t stay where we are. We must go forward--and we must do so even though we have less confidence we know what that “forward” will be like than at any previous point in our lifetimes. How do we proceed? 

Let’s begin by thinking about how we think. While doing so let's ask ourselves a few questions like; Why do I really think this way about this subject, situation, person, etc.? Do I really believe this--can I truthfully say I own it--or am I just mimicking someone else’s thinking for them? Does this kind of thinking promote the health and wellbeing of people outside of my little tribe? What if suddenly I couldn’t think this way, what alternative would I choose? Who do I know that inspires me to do my very best thinking? Who needs me to do my very best thinking? And finally, now that I’m sheltered in place, how can I do my best thinking to make a difference in place?

“Do not be conformed to this world but be transformed by the renewal of your mind…” (Romans 12:2)

BLESS YOU

I bless you, Joy, for the warmth and light, for the shelter and food, for the love and support I am blessed to experience today. I pray this for all creation. I will give this same blessing back to you and your creation today. Thank you for blessing me with the infinite opportunities to do so. And thank you for reminding me that absolutely every person, every situation, every circumstance—every single detail of my life—is a blessing to me whether I am consciously mindful and spiritually mature enough to appreciate it yet or not. Finally, thank you for your infinite patience with me as I grow and expand into your joy. It is humbling. As we both know, I’m still learning. Bless you.

HOW DO YOU DRAW PATIENCE?

I’m doing some drawing these days. Just for fun. Always wanted to. Now I am. In a video I watched recently one of my favorite online art instructors Alphonso Dunn stresses the importance of patience relative to the artist’s task. He says, "Don’t rush your drawings. The faster you draw the more you increase your margin of error." So, s-l-o-w-l-y, I’m learning the truth of which Alphonso speaks! I am realizing that whenever I consciously exercise patience I actually draw something that pleases me. And when I don’t? Well, then I don’t. 

This is all good—but nothing new, right?

Then, while “patiently” drawing one evening, I had one of those “Aha!” moments. It occurred to me—no, it struck me—that in addition to learning how to draw, this experience is serving as the portal or window to a much larger lesson in the fine art of patience--a lesson I don't just want to learn--I need to learn. Fast!

This is how I often experience wisdom* revealing its “art” in my life. Wisdom is everywhere and always…which means that wherever I am and whatever I'm doing, it is always right here right now ready and waiting to awaken me to the deep truths of my life (the ones that lie just beneath my surface, seeking out the cracks in my highly polished and protective ego where they can seep through to the surface of my awareness.) In this instance, via the medium of drawing, I feel wisdom beckoning me to consciously practice patience so that I can come to know its place, its purpose, and its power in all areas of my life.  

So how do I draw patience? One way is simply through practicing the wisdom that its presence and potential are right here, right now—whether I am or not. 

              "Above all, trust in the slow work of God." **
                                                      Pierre Teilhard de Chardin


*(If you prefer to replace the word “wisdom” with “God” please do so. Personally, these days I find the term “God” to be too small and confining as I often hear it being used by both Christians and non-Christians alike. This is not new either--and is probably a reason why “wisdom” is only one among many names for God in the bible. For examples, see Exodus 31:3 and I Corinthians 1:30)  

**See Chardin's beautiful poem "Trust in the Slow Work of God" at www.deeper-devotion.net/slow-work-of-God.html

 

OUR TRUE NATURE

We spend our summers at a lake cottage on the coast of Maine but this week my wife and I did something different. We enjoyed a house swap, staying in a flat just across the Hudson River from New York City. We took in museums, a Broadway musical, outdoor concert, comedy club, dinners out, subway, bus, ferry, taxi rides, Grand Central Station, Time Square, NYC Library, etc. Had a great time--while surrounded almost completely by concrete, glass, steel, construction, non-stop noise, smells, lights, action--and much of the time we were shoulder to shoulder with people speaking languages from around the world. 

Two things struck me. 1. The kindness of complete strangers who took initiative to be helpful on many occasions.  2. In the midst of all the concrete, steel and glass, signs of the presence of nature were everywhere . . . the Hudson River, waterfowl, birds, bugs, worms, wasps, cats, dogs, flowers, bushes, huge shade trees and gorgeous gardens on top of many of the buildings...and of course, smack dab in the middle of Manhattan is the magnificent Central Park with streams and ponds, bike trails and walking paths, glens of mature trees, large grassy areas and a zoo! 

Our deep human need for connection with the rest of the natural world was so obvious in the architecture, landscaping and urban planning of properties both public and private. Even the home we stayed in had a lovely oriental garden in the backyard. Every morning I sat on the couch and did my meditation while gazing out four large glass patio doors at tiered bamboo plants swaying gently in the breeze. And to top it all off, on our last night we watched the full moon rise over the Manhattan skyline.

While mesmerized by the moon's sallow beauty, I found myself thinking that no matter where we are or what we do we simply can't separate ourselves from nature--from our nature. It isn't just all around us. It's in us . . . just as we're in it . . . and, as part of nature, either we're in this all together or we're not in it at all.

That's an inspiring, if sobering, thought. 


"You will go out in joy and be led forth in peace; the mountains and hills will burst into song before you, and all the trees of the field will clap their hands. (Isaiah 55:12)