Halting the Mind

"When facing a single tree, if you look at a single one of its red leaves, you will not see all the others. When the eye is not set on any one leaf, and you face the tree with nothing in mind at all, any number of leaves are visible to the eye without limit. But if a single leave holds the eye, it will be as if the remaining leaves were not there."

"Glancing at something and not stopping the mind is called immovable. This is because when the mind stops at something, as the breast is filled with various judgements, there are various movements within it. When its movements cease, the stopping mind moves, but does not move at all.
If ten men, each with a sword, come at you with swords slashing, if you parry each sword without stopping the mind at each action, and go from one to the next, you will not be lacking in a proper action for every one of the ten.
Although the mind acts ten times against ten men, if it does not halt at even one of them and you react to one after another, will proper action be lacking?
But if the mind stops before one of these men, though you parry his striking sword, when the next man comes, the right action will have slipped away."
- Takuan Soho, The Mysterious Record of Immovable Wisdom

As I was practicing Iaido the early morning heat, I had an ephiphany.

I have often lamented that I am someone who is slow of learning and slow of action, who lacks the grace of any good athlete or artists. To watch me do Iaido is probably more painful than my sensei or fellow students admit.

But as I was moving this morning, illumination occurred.

My concern in doing Iaido is that I am too mechanical, too slow. I get through one series of movements but I stop each step: foot here, arm here sword here.

But this morning, as I was practicing my unsheathing (nukitsuke), I suddenly realized what Soho was talking about.

My mind stops at each part: right step, left step, grab the tsuba, pull back on the saya in saibiki, draw and grab the saya with my left hand. As a result my movements are slow and disjointed.

But if I didn't stop at each movement, if I just moved through - to use Soho's words, my mind not halting at any one but moving through, things become flowing - not any faster to start out with, but flowing.

But as I practice this new concept, this moving without halting the mind, I suddenly realized that the same is true of life itself.

Too often as I try to do something I try to do it too mechanically, focusing on each step in turn instead of seeing the whole. Instead of moving through like a dance I let my mind halt on things - sometimes things which are relevant, but just as often things that are not relevant: anger, resentment, unfairness, injustice. These too are things which halt the eye and mind and distract from moving and doing.

Don't be mistaken: to not halt the mind is not to think and reason. It is not to practice good judgement or to do excellent work. What it means is to see the whole for what it is and complete each part while not being consumed by each section of it.

And so I will move through the kata and through the day itself, seeing each individual leaf but not sacrificing the sight of the whole tree.

Words

How do I use my words?

I come at this discussion after a long talk with Snowflake concerning an incident at work. The incident itself is not of particular concern to this meditation, but the outcome is.

What came out of that discussion was a long night(and longer morning) sitting and thinking not of the words of others, but the words of myself. How I use them, what I say by them, what my intent of them is.

Intent. The great word we can never truly say. What is the intent of the words we use? Even honeyed words used knowingly to invoke a response implicate the speaker far more than the one who hears and reacts to them.

Words are weapons of attack and shields of defense to those who use them. The ancient Irish understood this: one of the greatest disgraces that could occur was to be verbally run down by a bard for cowardice or lack of generosity. The bard had no defense or attack except his words - but they were enough.

How do I use my words - as weapons of attack or shields of defense? The reality is that I should probably not be using them as either. Interestingly, the only time the Bible (the New Testament in particular) talks about using words for defense is in defense of the Gospel, never for personal measures.

In contrast, what does the Bible say about words in Proverbs and how we use them?

- "If you have been foolish in exalting yourself or have devised evil, put your hand to your mouth." - Proverbs 30:32

- "Wise men store up knowledge, but the mouth of the foolish is near destruction." - Proverbs 10:14

- "Whoever hides hatred has lying lips, and whoever spreads slander is a fool." - Proverbs 10:18

- "In the multitude of words sin is not lacking, but he who restrains his lips is wise." - Proverbs 11:19

- "A talebearer reveals secrets, but he who is of a faithful spirit conceals a matter." - Proverbs 11:13


- "There is one who speaks like the piercings of a sword, but the tongue of the wise promotes health.
The truthful lip shall be established forever, but the lying tongue is but for a moment." - Proverbs 12:18-19

- "He who guards his mouth preserves his life, but he who opens wide his lips shall have destruction." - Proverbs 13:3

- "In all labor there is profit, but idle chatter leads only to poverty." - Proverbs 14:23

- "The tongue of the righteous uses knowledge rightly, but the mouth of fools pours forth foolishness." - Proverbs 15:2

-"A man has joy by the answer of his mouth, and a word spoken in due season, how good it is!" - Proverbs 15:23

-"A fool has no delight in understanding, but in expressing his own heart." - Proverbs 18:2

- "A fool's lips enter into contention, and his mouth calls for blows. A fool's mouth is his destruction, and his lips are the snare of his soul. The words of a talebearer are like tasty trifles, and they go down into the inmost body." - Proverbs 18: 6-8

- "He who goes about as a talebearer reveals secret; therefore do not associate with one who flatters with his lips." - Proverbs 20:19

- "The North wind brings forth rain, and a backbiting tongue angry looks." - Proverbs 25:23

- "Do you see a man hasty in his words? There is more hope for a fool than for him." - Proverbs 29:20

and my personal favorite

- "He who keeps his mouth and his tongue keeps himself from trouble." - Proverbs 21:23

- And there's more, far more than I have covered about words and how we should use them.

But to me the question remains: what are am I doing with my words? Am I using them rightly? Even more correct, should I be using them at all?

Quantity and Quality

Over the last two weeks, as part of an experiment to test my time usage, I increased my time spent at work. This was to accomplish two things: 1) To attempt to make inroads on a list of tasks that just continues to grow; and 2) To see if, by adding more time, I could begin to do some of the daily reading and training I need to do in my own career field.

What I found over this two week period is what I have learned of my personal life: it's not just the quantity of time, it's the quality of the time as well.

More time spent at work did not translate into more work. What it did was translate into more opportunities to interact with coworkers about their issues, more opportunities to realize that I didn't really like what I was doing, more opportunities to "waste" the time I had there. This was certainly not the point of the exercise.

What it has taught me is that the quality of time I spend at work has as much - or more - impact as the quantity I spend.

What do I do when I go to work? This is perhaps the more relevant discussion to have. Do I arrive with a list of tasks to do, of things to accomplish? (I've got a list with 300 odd tasks that need accomplishing.) Or do I move into the "I'm here anyway, so I guess I'll have to do something. Please distract me as necessary."

I think part of my problem is that goal beyond work, the one just beyond the horizon, the reason that I am working for. I cannot name that, so work simply becomes something I have to do, not a means to an end. Give me that, that dream of what it is I truly hope to accomplish, and the rest will (I think) fall into place.

Suddenly the quantity of time will become far more precious - and the quality of that time far more important.

Truth and Honesty

Why do we fear honesty?

We claim we value honesty. We teach our children to be truthful and honest. We even have wise proverbs about truth and honesty: "Honesty is the best policy". As a society - perhaps even as a global one - we say that we want honesty and truth in every aspect of our communication and existence.

And yet time and time again, in our personal and professional lives, we are confronted by evidence that belies these words.

Honesty is hard. Truth is hard. To be honest and truth presumes that I have a level of comfort about myself - that I feel secure enough in who I am and what I am saying that I can weather the fact that someone else will not hear it - and a level of comfort in others - that my relationship with you (the singular you or plural you) is sufficiently that you trust me enough to hear the truth and at least accept it as it is given.

Do we also speak truth and honesty to those who we trust? Of course not. We often have to speak it to those who do not want to hear it, or do not care to contemplate the information. But that is their burden to bear, their failure to confront themselves. Their failure to accept the truth, to accept our honesty, says more about the illusions and masks of their own lives than us.

Are there palatable ways to do it? Of course. Presenting truth or being honest can be as much about how and why and where the truth is presented as it is the truth itself. In fact, the reaction to how it is presented may obscure the truth itself. It's akin to the difference of getting one's attention by touching them on the shoulder or giving them roundhouse punch: both will get their attention, but their response to it may be somewhat different.

Truth is a mirror-bright sword: To those who respect it, it is an object of honor and use. To those who are threatened by it, it is an object of fear.

Moving Day

My office situation has changed.

As a result of monies suddenly becoming available, our office situation has been remodeled. Fear Beag and Fear Mor, who have sat in the room directly outside of mine since I started work here in New Home (almost two years now), have moved to an adjacent (but currently not connected area) behind my office. The room they are in is destined to become an archive facility.

It was odd as I worked away in my office during the afternoon hearing the sounds of moving occurring, the smell of cleaning supplies, the banter that always occurs after relocation: "This is incredibly gross!" and "So that's where that got to!" It was also odd to go into the new office and see them setting up in their new space with radio blaring away as they personalized and organized their space.

When most of their items were moved I sat there, working quietly away, occasionally stopping and listening to the silence, then working on. As I sat their listening, I felt the vague stirrings of something I had not contemplated: loneliness.

Not loneliness in the sense of being alone (good heavens, they're right next door and I'm sure I'll see them a great deal). It was a more profound loneliness, the loneliness being something other than the others are.

I have always prided myself on my ability to not be position or level conscious, that even as a manager I attempt (probably not always effectively) to have a relationship with my reports of primes inter pares; that is, first among equals. I'm ultimately responsible, but my opinion and my strategies are certainly not always the best - and I'm certainly no better than anyone that reports to me.

What I felt as I went in, watched them unpacking and settling into an environment which was theirs and not ours, was that sense of separation, that aloneness that seems to inevitably come when you are the manager of others, that in some ways (willing or unwilling) you exercise responsibility and power.

In many ways, my work relationships are my social relationships - I spend far more time there than I do anywhere else. For better or worse, those relationships have become my support network, my confidants, my daily reminders that people are kind and helpful even as they are silly.

I also wonder (in the back of my head) if some of this simply stems from the self-acknowledged fact that I want desperately to be liked, to feel like I am part of something, to please others . I want (desperately want) to feel as if I belong.

If I'm honest, I can remember this feeling as well at the previous company where Songbird and I worked, when I moved from the cube next to hers to an office. Nothing specifically changed - except I no longer enjoyed the close interaction I had with my colleagues, throwing wry comments or songs over the cube walls, or just rolling around the side to talk. Suddenly such interactions were effort and not as spontaneous; suddenly I was my boss, the guy in the office who wasn't intimately connected with the inner workings of the department but swooped in from the outside to see how things were going.

I'm sure this initial feeling will pass (especially if they put a door in), and things will be back to some semblance of normality soon. The general insanity and hilarity will ensue and it will seem (at some level) as if nothing has changed.

But I cannot hide that as of yesterday, I seem to have heard the "click" of a chapter in my work and personal life closing deep in my soul, one I suspect will not reopen in the way it previously was.

Using Our Gifts

How do we use our abilities in comparison to how God thinks we should use our abilities?

I was reflecting on this as I wandered through my evening drive home and thinking a bit more about Amy Winehouse (see here for the specifics). We are all given talents: how do we use them?

I can only speak fully for myself, but I wonder if I have ever taken a moment to truly reflect on the talents (call them gifts if you like) that I have been given, how I am using them, and how God would want me to use them.

I'll take writing as the easy example. In my writing I do - here, on two manuscripts, journaling - is it done in such a way that God is glorified, or is just about recognition (or self absorption) about me?

Or take music, something which I've done off and on throughout my life. Now it's an ancillary activity to other things, but at one time I did it regularly (whether through a worship team or as a musical duo). The gift is still there - but I am truly using it at all, let alone in the way that God intended?

It's not enough to view the tragedy of wasted talent and selfishly exploited gifts in the lives of others - what are we doing about it ourselves? Are we truly using them in ways that glorifies God, or are wasting them on ourselves, simply in less overtly destructive ways.

Clutching Our Talent To Ourselves

I have been contemplating the death of Amy Winehouse this week.

(I know, it's unlike me to contemplate any sort of social or entertainment related event. Stick with me.)

The media is in the typical post-media death fashion is wringing its hands in concern, wondering how such a "fine young talent" could be whisked away at such a young age, comparing her to other musical stars who also died at 27 (interestingly, it is only music stars. No world famous archaeologists die at 27?). The usual parades of minor stars and second level experts sit on the TV screen, expressing their opinions about why this happened, how she (probably) was doing better, and what this means for the music industry.

I did not know Miss Winehouse's music, and would scarcely be able to pull her out of a line up of similar looking women. I have it on good authority (whom I believe) that she was a unique talent. She was, that I can see, an attractive looking young woman. Barring drugs, she undoubtedly had a wonderful future.

But a wasted one. Her talent is forever silenced (her first album was in 2003; a mere 8 years of stardom), her life's song sung. Wasted (I use that term advisedly) on an addiction that promised more than, in the end, it was able to deliver.

But are we any better with the use of our talents?

The reality is that each of us has also been gifted with any number of talents by God, things that we can do that few can in a way no-one can. But are we any better about using those talents in a way that glorifies God than the deceased Miss Winehouse?

Sure, we can state we don't lose ourselves in chemical dependence or overtly self destructive behaviour. But we can lose ourselves in lesser things: pursuing that which is of no value, gratifying our own pleasures rather than using them for God's glory, laying them to the side because we don't like our gifts and wish we have others, simply selling out for something we think is better. These are societally acceptable ways to do things; they do not make us any less culpable of failing to use our talents.

Pay thought to Miss Winehouse; her soul is as valuable as any others. But before you condemn here to harshly for not appreciating what she had been given, look to your own soul and talents and how you are using them. Can we truly say we are any better?

1000

This is my 1000th post.

Who'd have thought I would have gotten this far?

When I started this endeavor a little over 6 years ago (11 July 2005) I don't know that I really had any idea what I was attempting to do. I had some idea that this would be a place for me to post thoughts and ideas, but I was thinking (at the time) that this would mostly be around political and theological themes. Those (at least the politics) seem to have fallen off pretty quickly, as due to what was going on in my life (I never really seemed to find the energy or time to write them) as well as the fact that discussing anything political tends to obscure people from hearing your message.

Instead, what has evolved over time is a running log of my life and internal thoughts. There is some theology (I sometimes wish there was more, and that I could write more mightily about it) and some gardening and bees and occasionally haikus, but what it really seems to have turned into is a form of online personal journal of self discovery.

This is not an unwelcome development, just somewhat unexpected.

I've had some wonderful unexpected triumphs as well - introducing new writers to the blogsphere (Otis, Vintage Chick, Songbird, even Nighean Gheal), getting the unexpected readers as well (my father, of all people?), even occasionally making the sort of internal personal discovery that one covets but scarcely seems to be able to make.

All in all, a good thing.

What have I learned? Commitment, for one thing. With the exception of my college degree and education, I don't think I have ever been this consistent on doing anything over a long period of time.

Ability to express myself, for another. I think (I hope) I have been able to learn to better express my thoughts in a written medium. Certainly those that read can readily tell when I am happy, depressed, etc. As I can express better, I believe myself to be a far better writer than when I started this venture.

My cycles as well. I'm reliably informed by readers of this blog that they tell on a fairly regular basis where I am on my typical cycle of depression/non-depression. The fact that I am an apparently known cycler is good; now I just need to deal with the cycle.

Where do I go from here? I don't anticipate doing anything differently. I'll be posting here tomorrow same as always, staring at the keyboard around 0615 wondering what I'll be writing about.

But for one brief day, I'm not going to think about that. I reached a milestone today.

Happy 1000 to me.

A Visit With Guilt

As I crawled into the family room after too little sleep to do my morning calisthenics, the light clicked on. Guilt was sitting on the couch, waiting for me.

I didn't have any spirit. I grunted in her general direction and sort of collapsed on the floor to start push-ups.

She apparently had been up long before I had: she was showered, dressed, and had a cup of coffee in her hand as she watched me, nose on the carpet, ready to start.

"I talked with Confusion yesterday. He said he'd already been by" she chirped brightly as she raised the cup of caffeinated goodness to her lips.

"Umm" I responded, promptly losing count. Maybe I was on 15. I didn't know.

Let's call it 15.

"He said you had a good conversation but based on his relation of the conversation, I thought it might be time for me to stop by and chat with you" she continued, watching me again contemplate the floor from 3 inches away.

Sigh. I finally got up as apparently she was not going to be satisfied with less than acknowledgement.

She smiled brightly at me again as I sat down on the couch.

I gestured open handed towards her to begin.

She simpered. "Oh nothing really - just that Confusion mentioned you were wondering about things and directions, and of course that means thinking about you and what
you wanted to do versus your roles and responsibilities you have in your life. You know me - you're never really doing enough, or you're never really doing it correctly." She smiled brightly at me again as she took another sip of coffee. "I thought I'd stop by and we could talk it through."

I looked at her with a cocked eyebrow. "Talk it through?"

She smiled condescendingly. "You know, the whole 'I want to do things I enjoy and live my life' versus 'I need to do the things that I am doing because that's what I'm supposed to do'. You really need to focus on your responsibilities and being stable and reliable."

My eyebrow remained cocked. "What if I don't care for any of it?"

She smiled again. "You're not supposed to 'care' for any of it. You're supposed to do it. That's the beauty of being me" - here she smiled again - "it's not what you do, it's how you feel about it that matters. And mostly I'm here to make you feel guilty about whatever it is you're doing - or not doing."

I sat there thinking about it as she sipped away on her coffee. "Wait a minute" I said. "What you're saying is that no matter what I do, you're here to insure I feel guilty?"

She sighed. "Silly boy, it's not anything you do, generally it's only things you do that are not in line with your responsibilities. Well, I mean you should feel guilty about those too - but only that you're not doing enough on those. The others, it would be ideal if you felt guilty that you either spending too much time on them versus your responsibilities or your spending not enough time on them. But it's best, of course, if you simply just felt guilty."

"So there's no winning here for me?" I asked, somewhat confused but somehow feeling totally defeated.

"Of course not" she replied brightly. She looked at her watch, then stood up. "This has been simply fabulous. A wonderful talk, but I've got to get on. I have aerobics with Depression and Anger at 0600, and you know how they are if you're not on time.

"Oh" she said as stopped at the arm of couch, looking at me slumped in a confused defeat. "You didn't do your full round of push-ups. You're slacking off. You should feel guilty about that." And with that she flounced off humming "Let's Get Physical", leaving me in the morning darkness holding her empty coffee cup and the impending weight of all I needed to do - but couldn't or wouldn't get to.

Odd - I was feeling guilty about it all...

Perfect Placement

I'd forgotten the joy of living with a watering system you have to move.

Simply put, I got lazy. In Old Home, the watering system was installed and on a timer. All I needed to do was, well, nothing. Replace batteries, possibly, and sit and listen to the sound of the sprinklers engaging at 0630 in the morning.

Fast forward to New Home, where the sprinklers are not installed and watering is moved about on a MHU (Mobile Human Unit), i.e. me.

Due to the continuing lack of precipitation in our area, we have limited watering hours and days as well. Therefore, on my allotted days I trudge out to the front or back either as soon as I get home or early in the morning and drag hose and sprinkler around to cover my "zones" and insure everything has the minimum amount of water required to keep it going through (hopefully) the next big rain, which should have happened two months ago.

The area that gives me the most hassle is that in the very front of my yard, where the yard and street intersect. There's always a careful balance between getting right to the edge of the lawn and overlapping into the street. One doesn't want to water too much into the street (lest one appears a water hog), yet one doesn't want to water too far away from it, because the edge of the water will not fall to the edge of the lawn and I'll lose the grass I have so painfully tried to save.

It's about Perfect Placement: the placement of the sprinkler at just the right position so that everything gets watered without too much waste.

But (and there's always a but with me), the same is true of life.

Much of what we call "time management" is simply a non-corporeal version of watering our lawns. We attempt to move the sprinkler of our lives in such a way that we try to cover everything yet don't waste too much time on the street of wasted effort, where such time just rolls down into the storm drain (and thence, wherever used time flows to). We think the difficulty is that we have to get that perfect placement to cover everything and insure it gets hit with the sprinkler.

The reality is that (much like my lawn) getting perfect placement for large coverage is always going to be a bit beyond our ability. We'll always either be a bit too much on one, or a bit too little on another, or maybe miss a patch altogether as we busily move the sprinkler around our lawns, trying to ensure everything stays green.

I wonder (mostly to myself) if we've missed the boat a bit.

There are three ways to ensure full coverage of a lawn (or our time):
1) Install an automatic system;
2) Make sure our placement is perfect each and every time we water;
3) Get a smaller lawn.

We often shoot for 1 or 2. Automation is the key to everything - and if not, the key is to figure a system to ensure we get everything just enough to keep it alive. We don't often consider 3 - get a smaller lawn.

Smaller lawns, like smaller gardens or small circles of time use, allow us to lavish attention on them rather than have to rush through watering or trying to get "just enough" water on them. Likewise, when we focus ("The noble are of not getting things done" - Yutang Lin) what we often find is those things are actually richer and more fruitful that our scattered efforts to ensure that everything stays somewhat green. With the same amount of care and water, one can have a beautiful yellow rose bush (HT Vintage Chick) or an acre of weeds. The effort is the same; it's the space and amount that are different.

I'm off to move water again. Interestingly, the places I use the smaller sprinkler grown better than the ones with the larger sprinkler. Volume of water on the space, I think.

Maybe there really is something there.

How I Work

I realized last night the way I have worked through my whole life.

The thought occurred to me as I was (finally) at home having eaten dinner, fed the rabbits and dog, and generally taken care of everything that I needed to do. I was feeling happy that I had finally arrived at "my time" of the day, the time where I get to do the things that I love and enjoy.

And then it suddenly hit me in the midst of doing them: this is how it has always been.

I was relatively good at school, through an undeserved combination of some degree of intelligence and interest. I excelled, but that's not what I think about as I review those years. What I think about instead was the things that I did after school: role playing games, running around in the woods, music, reading, drama, dreaming, being with friends. School was simply something (a large something, to be sure) that I had to endure in order to get to the things that I enjoyed. Learning was (and is) a joy, but it is not directly connected in my mind with the 8 hour school day spread over 20 years. It was the things after school that I lived for.

And that is the habit I learned.

Suddenly it makes sense to me why I continue to do things (careerwise) that I don't really enjoy but endure: because I have learned that work is something you simply plow through in order to get to the parts of your life (seemingly precious and seemingly little) that you really do care about and enjoy. In fact, you probably shouldn't have any expectation of enjoying the largest expenditure of time in your life; it's just something you need to get through.

It flows over into every area of my life: my relationships, my eating habits (I tend to plow through food in order to get to the stuff I really like, generally dessert), even sometimes my viewing habits (go through the parts of the movie or book I sort of tolerate in order to get to the scenes I like).

So what do I do with that?

I'm not really sure. There are hints around the edges that this is a serious obstacle, one that if properly handled could actually make a significant change in my life and how I view and participate in work. The difficulty is that I'm not really sure how to do it (although to be fair, the problem has only been identified for the last 12 hours).

How do I change my view of what must be done versus what I want to do when I have spent my whole life looking at it in one way?

Be Still

I find myself in the unusual position of being at peace. Given me, I'm sure it's a temporary thing.

I start by blaming Silverline. It was her suggestion yesterday. "Instead of worrying and stretching and reaching about things" she intoned, "why don't you just take a mental break from everything. See what happens."

Take a break. Hhmph. Relax. Hhmph.

I am by nature a worrier - and not necessarily the most brilliant one in the world. Add to that the fact that more often than not I am also unhappy about vast swaths of my life (commonly known as "work") and you can see that this is counter intuitive to almost everything I do on a daily basis.

But I had nothing to lose, right? So yesterday, I didn't try about those things. I went, I worked away from one task to the next, I came home, I worked on my Iaido and my mandolin, walked the dog, read a bit and went to bed.

The odd thing is that the day passed (as all days do) even though the only thing that I had changed was my striving and worrying. Nothing significantly improved. A suitcase of money did not hit me on the head as I was driving home. My dream career did not give me a Monday morning casting call.

But yet, I was at peace.

I wonder (as I often do) if it is at moments like these that God slaps His forehead in frustration and says "I've been telling him that all along. He wouldn't listen to me?"

Because I suppose that in a real sense, that's Christ talks about when He said "Seek ye first the kingdom of God and all these things will be added unto you" or "Sufficient for the day is it's own troubles." That God truly is in control, and that we need to spend less time worrying and being frenetically busy and more time simply doing and seeking Him.

The Psalmists seem to have grasped this particularly well. As I read through them now (as I do this time every year) the message that keeps coming through is the power of God, the presence of God, and the plans of God. As He said to the psalmist in Psalm 46: "Be still and know that I am God." He is ultimately in control, and all my worrying or carrying on or frenzied running in place accomplishes precisely nothing with Him willing it so.

So I will try this again today: No worry. No allowance for stress. No frenzied plans. I will go about my day working and then coming home and doing other things.

I will be still, and know that God is God.

My Life As An '80's Song

I've been considering adding another category to my life: My Life Sounds Like An 1980's Song.

Music is one of those things which I wish I understood better. I play and can read music, but I scarcely understand the hold music has on our brains: music is one of the senses which, by hearing something, has the ability to catapult us back in time to where and when we were when we heard that song. It's a sort of time machine, captured in 3 minute sections.

(As an interesting side note, the sense of smell also has this ability with me).

In being transported back to those times - which for me were high school and college - I am, of course, transported back to a simpler time (virtually no responsibilities) and probably a more ignorant time (dear Lord, why didn't I think more about a career?) - which is probably natural for anyone that age. I am also transported, through that music, to a time and place where I was different person in so many ways.

In listening to the music today, I wonder if really listened to or heard what the music said.

80's music (for the uninitiated) was not some great source of inspirational, life changing lyrics and tunes (Rush fans may argue differently, but they have their own issues). If I had to make vague generalizations (really generalized) I would find their themes around 1) Love and 2) Freedom (Yes, I'm sure there were plenty of sexually related songs there but not nearly what exists currently). The here and now was paramount; the later was not really paid mention to.

I listened to a wide variety of "rock" music (now characterized as "Classical Rock"), with favorites probably being Styx, Journey, Foreigner, Areosmith, Night Ranger, Queen and a large smattering of others (Van Halen (original), Scorpions, Hagar, The Cars, and numerous one hit wonders).

But looking back, now, I wonder what song my life has become.

Is it a soulful rock ballad of love, or of love lost? Hardly an uber-pumped up song about living life on the extreme, or being a man of action.

Hmmm. For wistful music, maybe "When You Close Your Eyes (Do You Dream About Me)?" by Night Ranger or "Once in a Lifetime" by The Talking Heads. "I Can't Drive 55" by Sammy Hagar, or perhaps "Blue Collar Man" by Styx (Close runners up: "Long Way From Home" by Foreigner or "High Time" by Styx).

A far cry indeed from the music I thought spoke to me the most.

However I would like believe that, buried beneath this exterior of responsibility and duty, there exists that young man whose heart still races across the sunshine of endless fields of adventure, blood pumping to the thought of the here and now and all that the world has yet to offer, instead of what has been.

Kickstart My Heart indeed.

Work Things I Don't Want To Do Again

Work Things I Don't Want To Do Again

1) I don't want to manage people again. I like working with people as friends and colleagues, not as a supervisor.

2) I don't want to have my life's work to be categorized by paperwork in a box which occasionally gets pulled out, looked at, and then returned.

3) I don't want to spend my time working on things which are doomed to fail but no-one has the courage to admit it.

4) I don't want to be put in the position of being responsible for tasks no-one cares about but everyone expects to be done.

5) I don't want to work on things that do not, somewhere, have an impact in a good way on the lives of others.

6) I don't want to work where there is a lack of vision.

7) I don't want to work where management is glorified at the expense of those who do the work.

8) I don't want to work (if I can) where the reporting structure is much above me.

9) I don't want to work where I wake up every morning with a sense of doom about the fact I have to go to the job I have.

10) I don't want to not take pride in what I do or where I work.

With Whom Do We Spend Our Time?

"Just as water will conform to the shape of the vessel that contains it, so will a man follow the good and evil of his companions." - Imagawa no Ryoshun, The Regulations of Imagawa Ryoshun

How carefully do we pay attention to our friends and associates?

This is something that we often pay attention to in our youth - often at the insistence of our parents, no doubt - but as time and independence comes, we tend to note this less and less.

Some of this is simply forced on us - in adulthood, we often spend a great deal of time at work with individuals with whom we would probably not otherwise spend time - but some of this is perhaps caused by the fact that with less time, we simply become more concerned with spending time with anyone rather than being as selective as we used to be about with whom we spend our time.

But the reality is the same: we most often tend to adopt the mores and attitudes of those around us.

Do we pay attention to this as we should? Are we becoming better - or worse - by the associations we spend our time with - and are we as conscious of them as we should be?

Other Options

I am tentatively - and cautiously - thinking of other options.

Over the course of the last three weeks, I've had two separate incidents - one in industry, one out - that have indicated closed doors and at least two more that through careful consideration, also suggest that there is no way forward in those areas. There are truly paths that, once turned aside from, cannot be regained.

So I'm starting to think in other directions.

I tentatively - very tentatively - brought the subject up last night with The Ravishing Mrs. TB (great thing to jump someone with right after they return, no?). "What sort of thing?" was her response? "I've no idea" I replied. "I didn't get that far".

The thing that I expressed to her - and continues to chase my conscious - is the sense of direct uncertainty I have, of having little control in the event something goes wrong - like the Layoff, merely staring into the headlight of the engine as it plows you over.

Perhaps some of the reason I'm frustrated is that I keep trying to repackage old ideas as new ones rather than setting that box aside and looking for others.

Storm and Silence

Last day of silence before the storm - An Teaglach returns tonight.

I am, of course, terribly pleased. A little separation is never a truly bad thing (although I'd argue that the 3 months when I first moved to New Home was a little much), but I still miss them all terribly when they're not around (having written this, I will of course regret it the first time the sound tsunami appears).

It's been good, of course - as all my silent time are. Lots of thinking time, lots of reading time, even some time to do thing that I have needed to do.

What it has reminded me of is the fact that without reflection, without the ability and time to read and think and ponder, I am far less than I could be.

(And sleep of course, but I seem unable to control that...)

I am by nature an introvert - although to see me in a social setting where I feel comfortable you would find it hard to believe. Introverts tend to recharge not when they're surrounded by people and activity but when they are silent and isolated or with a small group. Without this time - literally for myself, but I suppose others benefit as well - I become less of what I am capable of. I think less, I reflect less, I simply feel less wise (and I'd argue that my best writing always occurs during or after such periods).

It's simply the way it is.

That said, I need to acknowledge that and accept it. It will mean inconveniences for some others (and probably less sleep, I'm guessing), but truly is the only way that I personally seem to be able to excel and grow.

All hail the return of An Teaglach - and the realization that through silence and thinking comes the best me.

Waiting on God

When was the last time I waited - really waited - upon God?

The thought was started yesterday by a comment made by our pastor in his sermon: "Often I have found that a 'No' from God really means 'Not yet'." That thought percolated itself throughout Sunday, into Sunday night and through a restless sleep and dreams until it was the first thing that popped into my head when the alarm went off.

When have I waited? Too often - most often - I haven't. I've been in too much of a rush, impatient to have it "now" because I'm afraid I won't have it at all, or believing that I am entitled to all that I comes into my head and seems reasonable, or simply not accepting that a "No" now means anything other than a "No" permanently.

And what has this gotten me? Except for the grace of God, not much. I can look back now from the perspective of years and see that in fact most of the need to have it now has only resulted in it either disappearing altogether or remaining in a stunted form. I write this not out of regret for the bad decisions (they can't be unmade now anyway) but simply from a sense of observing the results in my life.

I didn't want to wait to be able to afford a new house, but I got one - and ended up losing it. I didn't want to wait (have never, really) for a job situation to clearly evidence itself that it was time to move on - and have missed out on the opportunity to profit from them, as well as (eventually) having them lead to New Home. I didn't want to wait to start a business based on real facts, so I went ahead and did it - and lost a great deal of money and a friendship in the bargain.

There are other things as well - things far more personal, things that shouldn't be out on the Web. Suffice to say that these, too, bear the hallmark of a failure to wait and attendant results.

If I stop and think about it, what have I truly waited on God for? Not much, I'm afraid. There are occasions - the job that brought us to New Home, for example - but I can't think of many. And there are those situations - like a position of leadership I tried to patiently wait for - that simply were answered by "No".

So what are the takeaways here?

The first, I think, is that the past proves the present. I haven't waited, and much of the issues of my own life have been created by my inability to either wait or accept a "No" as "Not Yet". Part of this is my own perspective - thinking I must do everything and have everything now, instead of viewing life through the lens of eternity. But part of this as well is simply admitting that I have not waited.

The second is simply to start waiting upon God. Have I truly taken the time to make my concerns and dreams and desires known? That accomplished, am I then ready to simply wait upon God for His response?

The third is if I am willing to train myself to change my thinking, to realize that "No" may really mean "Not Yet". Or maybe it truly means "No". Either way, I still need to modify what and how I think and act.

The first of half of my life not waiting has not worked out as well as one might have hoped. Perhaps the perspective I need is not to try harder, but simply to wait and watch - patiently.

Iaido by Morning

I have been working my forms in the morning.

One of the things that I realized from the change in my schedule is that my Iaido time was become compressed: I was either too tired to do it, or I always found other things I had to do. My solution became to split my time: some in the morning, some in the evening. And so now, somewhere between 0640 and 0715, you'll find me in the backyard practicing Iaido,

Practicing Iaido outside, in the morning, is an entirely different exercise than practicing in the dojo or even inside. The temperature is the first thing that grabs my attention as I head out - outside is not quite as climate controlled as the circumstances I usually practice in. The next thing I notice is the sounds: at class, the only sounds are the sensei's instructions, the quiet shuffling of feet, the "clack" of bokken as they meet in practice. Outside is a different story: the birds sing in the trees (the chirping of small songbirds, the more mournful cry of doves), perhaps a late lingering bat flutters by seeking one last meal, the local dog population raises the alarm, a squirrel chatters away in a tree nearby.

As I move through the forms, I am confronted by reality: the ground is not level and so I sometimes lurch to one side or the other and I cannot execute turns as smoothly as I would like; a low branch can catch an kesa giri cut as I try to bring it down; an upturned stone can turn an advance into a stumble.

But in all of this difference, I find the reminder that once again, Iaido mirrors life.

Too often we practice and live in a controlled bubble, a series of events and encounters that we attempt to manipulate such that we are always at an advantage. The reality is that we life in a world over which we can control very little. We cannot control the weather, other people, the actions of things and peoples thousands of miles away.

But what we can do is control ourselves. Iaido mirrors this in the kata: by constantly practicing, we internalize our actions and reactions, thus preparing ourselves for the event that we will have to use them in the series of events we call life. To the extent that our practice mirrors more and more of the real world, so we will be more able to control our actions as we confronted by the events we cannot control.

And so I practice, moving in the morning dawn to the sound of birds, practicing and gaining confidence in that which I can control: myself.

Independence

Another epiphany driving home today. What I crave: Independence.

Through my recent up and downs of work, of the previous times of looking for work and waiting, even at The Firm, one thing which suddenly jumped out at me was how dependent I was and am: dependent on my current employer, dependent on people to make decisions, dependent on the good will and grace of others to make my daily living.

For my current position, in one of the best interviews I ever had, the individual told me "I'm independently wealthy so I don't need this job. I'm here because I want to be here. I have no problems telling truth, because I don't need the job."

But for myself (and many like me) our jobs have become a series of of uncertainties - not based only on the financial health of the company or how hard we work, but the personal opinions and constructs and bad decisions of others which can - at a moment - put our jobs at risk.

I don't want independence purely for the sake of making money. I want independence for the purpose of not having my own and my family's financial future (and therefore, our future) put at the mercy of individuals or companies.

But waiting to become independent by being dependent is no more successful than saving your way to wealth without investing. It won't work.

So perhaps for me, the better question to ask is not "How can I find a new job?" (when that time comes) as "What can I do to build independence?"

This is a road I have scratched at the start of many times, even taken tentative steps with The Firm, but never really advanced down. Why? Because of a lack of knowledge and fear: a lack of knowledge of what to do and how to do it, a fear that I will fail.

The knowledge can be remedied (all knowledge gaps can). As for the fear, what's worse: the fear of something that could happen, or the daily nagging fear that constantly looms over my head?

Does independence fix that fear entirely? No, of course not - but I believe it at least offers a sense of control, the very thing that seems beyond my grasp at the moment.

I have spent a lifetime surrendering control. It's time to get a little of it back.

In-Action

What steals the call of action from one's life?

By 14:00 yesterday, any benefits or any sense of refreshment I had from my vacation had been stripped away, replaced by the dull combination of duty, fear and dispiritedness that had marked me before I left. Any sense of making progress, any sense of doing more, any hint of that greater beyond was wiped away.

How can this be? I came back from vacation motivated and ready; within 48 hours, life is just as I left it.

Is it circumstances? Yes, partially. Like it or not, our environment has a distinct impact on what we believe and feel to be possible. Landing somewhere which debilitates one's sense of action, of possibility, makes action feel superfluous and imitative a joke.

But surely this cannot be explained by circumstances alone? Plenty of individuals throughout history have overcome their circumstances through action.

If that is the case, then surely inside of me there resides some flaw, some character trait that persuades me against action, or robs me of hope and the ability to even begin. What is this flaw? I really (really, really) wish I knew what this flaw was. It has dogged my steps from childhood, throughout my schooling, throughout my career to where I am today.

To begin, one needs to believe that action will create results, that there is an end and goal which is possible, no matter how difficult. Without such confidence one is left with a series of false starts that lead at best to failure, at worst to nowhere.

Where does one find such confidence?

Inner and Outer Attention

As I had the luxury of letting thoughts roll and percolate through my brain this week, I came to the realization that I am too often a person of appearance, not of substance.

The genesis of this thought was a sermon three weeks ago by a guest pastor to our church, one which serves our local university base. He made the point that the current college generation is one which offers "zebra kisses" - their own way of showing affection or desiring attention, which is often mistaken by those to whom it is offered as something other than what it is.

As this sermon followed me home and around as I went on my vacation, I went one step further. It's not just that zebra kisses are misunderstood, it's the nature of what those are intended to communicate - and with whom.

I believe we have allowed the need for significance and self esteem within our own society to become so pervasive, so overpowering, that we have created a culture where being seen and recognized - however that occurs - is the most important thing on anyone's agenda. Everyone's opinion must be heard, everyone must be noticed.

I am a man of occasional flair. I do things occasionally which draw attention to myself. But why am I drawing this attention to myself? Is it because I am truly different? Or is it because I need the attention and the visual cues are the only way for me to get it.

I compare myself in this sense to a young lady of my acquaintance who dresses and acts differently - but this difference is simply an outflow of who she is, not an affected mannerism chosen to get the attention of others.

There is attention which comes from who you are, and attention that comes from how you appear. Attention coming from who you are is far more difficult to engage. It means that one has to be a person of accomplishment, of character, of being something beyond merely the outward manifestation of the unusual or noticeable.

In a sense, attention from how you appear is merely the shortcut on the road to accomplishment, something easily engaged in but having little substance and little staying power. My concern is that this sort of thing is fleeting, but often the consequences ride along with us for life. It also creates something of an addiction: the desire for attention becomes stronger, so even more noticeable behavior or appearance must be engaged in to continue to maintain the interest.

I'm not against flamboyance. I'm not against the unusual. I'm not against the noticeable. What I am against is it becomes the only reality of our souls; instead of flowing out of us, it defines us from the outside in.

As I have said, recognition from accomplishment is far more difficult. It's also much less likely of a guarantee of immediate notice: a tattoo sprawled up my arm and around my neck is almost always noticeable, while the quiet accomplishment of a task and the resulting expertise is much less so. However, a history of quiet accomplishment will eventually lead somewhere; the tattoo will fade.

Will I still wear my kilt or kimono on random occasions? Absolutely. But I will seek to become someone from whom such behavior flows as a part of who they are, not the total of who they are; the notice which comes from being competent and skilled, not the notice that comes from merely appearing.

Peace and Action

"If we really believe things, we will do what it takes to make them happen. Otherwise we're just playing games." - Joel Salatin

A wonderful week away - by far, the best (or at least most relaxing) vacation I have had in many years. A good mix of activities, between seeing family, wandering around the Ranch, visiting the state's historic Gold mining areas, and driving through parts of some very old family history. For the first time in a long time, I have returned from being away refreshed and renewed.

And quietly energized.

I had my usually eclectic mix of books in my bag as I left: A History of Japan 1334-1615 by George Sansom, Holy @$%& by Gene Logsdon (a wonderful book, but I'll leave you to look up the title), The Sheer Ecstasy of Being a Lunatic Farmer by Joel Salatin, The Christian Tradition: The Spirit of Eastern Orthodoxy by Jaroslav Pelikan, and The Farmstead Creamery Advisor by Gianaclis Caldwell. I had the good fortune to get through them, and the better fortune to not have to start re-reading any of them (the greatest of all possible sins while traveling). Reading them covered my varying areas interests, nourishing that part of my soul that does not dwell in the 9-6 of my daily existence.

But perhaps the most inspiring thing of all the trip was to see what my parent's renter, Young J, has done with the Ranch. He's completed putting up fence. He's brought in cattle. When we left Sunday morning, he was out stringing more fencing.

And then, flying home yesterday, I suddenly realized I was at peace.

I am at peace, whether called to remain here in New Home or to return to Old Home.

But being at peace does not mean being at rest.

No matter what the future brings or does not bring, no matter what peace I am feeling at the current moment, the reality is that there is much to do in my own life before I am truly "at rest". For me so often, this easily gets thrust aside as I fail to see the long term for the short term, to get caught up in the "must do's" and forget those longer term dreams, the real "must do's".

But as Salatin says, unless we act on what we believe in to make it happen, we are really just playing games in our own mind.

Failure Day is coming up in a month. In a month, I should have a greater sense of what the future - my future - holds. Based on that, and the peace for any decision, I can go forward.

But I must go forward. Peace is not rest. Quiet joy is not inertia.

I am at peace - but there is still much to be done.

All I Needed To Know for the Coming Year I Learned On My Vacation

1) A surprising number of people don't like their career choices - even people you'd think otherwise.

2) Ready or not, the passing of the torch to the next generation is here.

3) The water may look the same, the surroundings may look the same, but you really cannot step into the same river twice.

4) If your job cannot change, you have to.

5) There are advantages and disadvantages to being everywhere.

6) History has a stronger pull than one knows.

7) Lives drift apart, no matter the best intentions.

8) Children grow up faster than you realize.

9) The Earth really does abide.

10) Sometimes the rains without end allow flowers to bloom that no-one knew were there.

History

My history stalks these hills.

It stalks the hills where I drove with The Ravishing Mrs. TB and Nighean gheal yesterday as we went to the town that my great-great-grandfather arrived and settled in when he came in 1850 for the Old Home Gold Rush, to the remnants of the ranch he built and the mines he and his descendants worked. It followed on the road down to the canyon as we drove the (often) one car wide trail one of my great-uncles walked as went to build a cable bridge with planks hewn and carried down by hand.

Driving up two ridges over, it sang in the pine and oak covered canyons that carry the river southwest as the sun pours overhead in the blue early evening sky. The air is redolent with the smell of pine and tarweed that I remember from my youth.

Before the drive, we visited the old family cemetery, where three generations of my relatives are buried. It's on a hillside surrounded by pine trees with none of the usual grass and wide spaces we so often associate with graveyards today. The headstones are all in great shape (there's little fear of bad things happening there) and I can go down the rows, naming most of the relatives and their relationship to our family. It gives a sense of linkage, of purpose, of memories of my own childhood coming up every Memorial Day weekend to care for our dead.

I love this land - love it in a way that is not necessarily rational or communicable to those that have never walked on it, never been on it, never visited the graves of their forebears that lived and died there.

Wherever I go, wherever I wander, the red iron dirt is ground into my bones.

Old Home Field Walk

Walking the dewy grass,
Hawk cries and turkey gobbles:
High and low songbirds.

Old Home Run

I set off this morning on an run at Old Home.

It has rained or drizzled almost constantly since we arrived yesterday. The rain itself has stopped, but the slight impact of misty droplets splatter my face as I came down off the hill and hit the road.

The grass here is green and tall, far taller than I think I've ever seen it (rain in June is not common here). The road I'm running on is the old dirt road which has been here since well before I was born. My parents had it covered in road grindings to keep it from the dust and mud; it crunch crunches under my feet as I running.

The sound of water dripping off the trees times itself with my footsteps as I run. I'm warming up, but not nearly like I do in New Home - it's been a long, long time since I have run in cool weather like this. The sweat beads on my brow a bit; it is certainly not pooling on my back.

A brown bolt hurtles to the sky as a turkey rushes out of the underbrush and takes flight, trying to escape the horrible thudding monster heading down the trail at it. I've apparently frightened him pretty well to have him reach 10-12 feet in the air before he veers away to the right.

Passing him, Neighbor L's dogs hop up along the fence and start barking away as I go by. I'm grateful for the fence - given my speed, it would not even be interesting for them.

I turn onto the main road. I'm on blacktop now so my footsteps no longer crunch; fortunately, the local creek bubbles away down a small green canyon to my left as I run along to keep me company.

Sounds and smells assault me as I run: the smell of tarweed and pine, the songs of birds I don't hear in New Home, the occasional sound of the car as it passes me running in the early morning.

Everything is wet: water running down the trunks of pine and oak and cedar, dripping from leaves and needles, beading on the native grasses. Purple and yellow flowers brighten the light green as I run past, giving thanks for a rainy season they could have never expected as seeds.

I reach the bottom of the hill, where the creek runs under the road, and decide to head back for the second cup of coffee I know awaits me.

Running back is harder for me than running out, because my mind now knows how long it has to go and starts keeping time. It's bad enough running on city streets; it's worse, surrounded by natural beauty I should be enjoying. I still try: the creek now runs to my right and sings as I pass the local sawmill. I can look over now and see the creek running - it's as high as it's ever been, especially this late in the year.

As I turn back off the main road and onto the road grindings, I abandon the creek's cheerful song and re-enter the land of dripping branches. After another alert by Neighbor L's dogs, I run in silence.

Silence here is a powerful drug. You forget what silence is until you come - not the artificial silence of the meditators and the mystics, but the silence of nature as God intended it: filled with the inner workings of creation, void of the sounds people pepper it with the interests of civilization.

As I reach the bottom of the driveway and stop, I notice a local squirrel on a nut hunt. He slowly scurries forward, digs in a hole apparently to find it empty, stands up and looks, and then continues towards me. I stand silently as he stops, looks, scurries and repeats until he has come and made a loop around me, found a nut, and then slowly passes to my left with 3 feet of me, his fluffy gray tail not attached so much as floating as a feather as he continues on his way.

The drizzle has stopped. My coffee awaits.

Old Home Travel Weather

Hot humid weather
belies the cool breeze of home
I will taste tonight.

What If?

Last night, as part of the Father/Daughter activities with Nighean Dhonn we watched VeggieTales "It's a Meaningful Life". The script itself is a takeoff from a more famous movie of a similar name (no surprise from the title there) and follows the regrets of one man (well, cucumber really) as he wonders how his life would have been different had he made "the big catch" in a football game become a sports star. He's given a chance to know by Gabe, the conductor on the "What If Express" where he sees the impact on himself and his family by what would have happened had he lived the life he expected - and wanted - to live. Finally, he's given the choice to go back to the life he had or continue with the life he saw. Our lives, Gabe reminds him even as he reminded his daughter, are in God's hands and God's plans are better than anything that we could do for ourselves.

Behind every hypothetical, says Gabe, is a theoretical.

It made me wonder as I sat there about the hypotheticals in my own life, the what-ifs that I (all too often) dwell on as points of failure in my life, things that could have gone different - should have gone different.

What if I had entered the ministry? What if The Firm had taken off? Where would I be? More importantly, who would I be?

I tend to dwell on the things in my life that have not gone as well as I would have hoped (don't tell my friends or family this - they would be shocked!), perhaps assuming by default that success is equivalent to better. However, the two are not interchangeable. Not all success lead to places we want to go, and not all failures mean that have failed to attain that which we were striving for.

For every failure that I measure, I fail to account for the successes that arise from the failure. And I miss those things that could have happened only because of what that "failure" brought.

Hypotheticals, in our mind, almost only lead to good theoreticals, never to the bad ones. But we've no more rationale to say that one was more likely than the other, except that we believe it to be so.

Take confidence, then, in God's plan and the outcomes that have come into your own life. His hypotheticals are far better than any theoretical we could have ever designed - or imagined.

The Power of a Compliment

The power of a compliment cannot be underestimated.

It's interesting. Words are free (well, except for the fancy words you pay to go to college to learn, like "icthyology" and "antidisestablishmentarianism"), yet so often they are grudgingly bestowed, as if there was a physical cost to giving them.

Without the compliment - without the recognition of effort or sincere note of congratulations that are implied - the situation one is in will, over time, become unendurable. As time goes on, one lets go of any sense that one's efforts will do anything to effect a difference in what one is doing, or that one is becoming more skilled at what one is doing, or even a sense that one is even occasionally doing something correctly.

Without the compliment - and its accompaniment, gratitude - situations turn into long tunnels of dull effort without any sense of change, hope, or excitement.

I'm sure that some experts somewhere have carefully analyzed why this is so, and that complimenting (or even thanking) people "too often (whatever that is)" leads to a diminishment of the power of the words, a creation of the mediocre becoming acceptable instead of the excellent recognized, a dispersal of the power and authority of the one granting the words.

I strongly disagree. If one only hears how one is never doing the task correctly, or performing the task and then having it immediately brushed over to move to the next task, people will simply lose heart. When people lose heart, they lose their spirit, their motivation, their fire for trying harder. And when heart is gone, people may go through the motions but the enterprise, the relationship, the endeavor is doomed to fail.

So give a compliment, give a "thanks" today. It's cost is nothing more than the muscles of your vocal cords and face; the effects can be beyond anything you can imagine.

Doing the Work At Hand

"Our main business is not to see what lies dimly at a distance but to do what lies clearly at hand." - Thomas Carlyle

I fear sometimes I let my visions of my future - at the least the future as I'd like it - get in the way of the things that need to be done right now.

The future is a wonderful place to dwell. It's a place of possibilities and ideas, a land where problems never bedevil, where the only issues that arise are which of the multitude of good things to do will you do to day, of all the things in life which are now not going well becoming grand.

It is, in a word, surreal.

The future contrasts badly with the present. The possibilities which potentially exist in the future are seen as wisps in the present. What exists in the present is too often what we have to do: prosaic, common, often frankly boring. If the future is a vista of multiple possibilities, the present is often a single possibility boringly executed over repeated days and years.

But the part that we forget, I suppose, is that in fact the future is the present, veiled in mists.

The future only comes to us through the present. That which we build now in the present will become our future. Yes, we should visualize our future and see that we are moving in those directions, but at the same time we probably need to do the work that it is put in front of us now. Because the work placed in front of us now can often lead to futures that we do not or cannot expect - simply because the present which leads to them is not contemplated by us now.

A simple, personal example: by choosing to join The Firm, I eventually did what was in front of me - and ended up in New Home. Certainly not the future I would have visualized for myself 7 years ago, but by doing what was in front of me - one step at a time - here we landed.

"God never gives guidance for two steps at a time. I must take one step, and then I get light for the next. This keeps the heart in abiding dependence upon God." - C. H. Mackintosh

If our futures are in God's hands - which they are - and only He sees the totality of time - which He does - then I must believe that this thing put in front of me at this time is the thing which I am expected to accomplish right now to lead to a future which perhaps I can only see hints of but which God sees fully.

The bottom line (mostly for myself) is not to let the work which can be done - must be done - now confuse with any future which may come. Mine is to do what needs doing at hand; by doing the work, the path will resolve itself.

Rains

The rains came last night.

I awoke around 00:30, whether from the sounds of the winds howling by or subconsciously knowing that when the rains were supposed to hit (thank you, weather.com). I came downstairs and stepped out the front door. No rain yet, but the Western sky traveling away down the street was lit up like the Western front, blasts of light peppering the housetops.

Within 10 minutes the rain came. First you wonder if it has started; you listen and hear the sound of the chimney cap being pelted and you know that it has come. I checked outside on the back porch: the white limestone slowly becomes spattered with rain until the entire porch reflects back wet light in the storm.

Rains are different here. In Old Home, rains were something to be enjoyed from indoors, carefully by a fire. Here, rains are to be enjoyed perhaps from inside, but perhaps from a covered area or even out in it. Standing under the porch, watch the midnight lightning light up the ground at moments to the point of daylight, the growl of thunder provides a constant backdrop of sound as the oaks whip their branches hither and yon.

If one listens carefully, one can almost hear the parched ground sighing in relief. It's been two months since any rain at all and almost eight months since a significant rain. I am sure that out there in my lightning-lit garden, my plants and seedlings are standing there, leaves outstretched, drinking in the clean rainwater.

Like most other things, there is a down side to this much needed refreshment: the humidity once the sun comes up will be hideous. And oddly enough, barring any other rain, within 2 hours of sunrise you'll scarcely be able to tell that any rain fell beyond the damp ground beneath the grass.

That's okay. The rain will be where it needs to be - in the ground: a sky-sent treasure hidden away; lightning and thunder and winds made solid; a God given provision to His creation which so desperately needs it.

On Anger

I almost lost my temper yesterday.

A seemingly typical workday: I was working on one of the series of tasks which I had allocated for the day when all of sudden I was presented with a situation which demanded all of my attention - because it was a management priority.

The immediate reaction in my system was that of anger. My entire day had just been rearranged beyond my control. When I showed my list of 351 other tasks and asked how this would fit in with the schedule, I was essentially told that it was really my problem, as this suddenly became the new priority.

My initial reaction? An overwhelming sense of anger.

I managed to control my anger to the point that I didn't say anything too incriminating. Still, it burned in my gut for the rest of the day.

The thing that suprised me the most the intensity of the anger that I found in my self, that aroused itself to quickly, that hovered with me for the day. I usually believe myself to be someone who controls his anger better than that, who has mastered his anger, who is more mature about things that he is.

I suppose the reality of the experience is to remind me that we are never too far above what we battle against to be beyond it.

Electronic Crutch

So the (perhaps temporary) death of the laptop created an interesting thing this weekend: Time.

For the first time in a very long time indeed, I suddenly found myself with time to do things.

Why? Because suddenly I did not have the option of running to the laptop every time I got a bit bored or had nothing else to do. I was forced to actually do other things.

I must admit that I had not realized that I had become so addicted to the ready availability of the computer, that it had become quite the crutch - and apparently, an unthinking one at that.

What did I do instead? I finished two books I had started months ago. I planted more in my garden. I participated with my children in some activities. I boxed (on Wii). I started reading more. Worked on my resume. Practiced Iaido and mandolin.

I don't know that I'll ever be truly separated from the computer (after all, how else could I blog?). On the other hand, this weekend has given me a powerful reminder of how easily I can become controlled by the triple forces of laziness, technology and unthinking.

To do means to be active and engaging - not trapped in a 14" electronic screen reading about the lives and events of others.

Here's to doing.

On The Example of Fathers

Today is Father's Day.

Thinking of Father's Day of course brings me to my own (which, I suppose, it rightfully should).

Interestingly, as I continue to grow older, I find myself in the position (as many do) of discovering that the father has somehow magically grown wiser and knowledgeable over the years. The more likely reality is that I have simply become more willing and able to listen to all he has to say.

During my greatest fiasco - The Firm - my father patiently gave me his advice and things to think about - things which I promptly ignored, to my own peril and eventual failure. In all of this, my father never once criticized me for making the decision or for ignoring his advice. When things went down the drain and I sat for two months looking for work, he never castigated me, nor made a comment when I crawled back to my industry at the same rate at which I had been paid.

That one thing - the giving of advice and then the general support when I failed to take it - is perhaps the single greatest gift or skill I received from The Firm. The computer and desk chair are gone, the house the career bought is sold. Only the self confidence to do and the example of my father now remain.

I consider this example as I prepare to face new forks in the road, decisions which I have to make - and in making them, impact my own family in the same way that my father's impacted us (for good, I might add). Have I finally learned to listen to advice? Have I finally learned to hear with the heart? For my own children as they grow older, am I teaching them to make good decisions - yet advising and then being supportive as they do.

I have had a great example. Would that I can live up to it.

Waiting to Boot Revisited

Well, it appears I was clairvoyant when I was writing about my laptop yesterday. This time, when I went to use it after booting up, the screen had disappeared altogether. Apparently the relic had decided that its time had come to pass on.

The feeling I'm fighting at the moment is that of being thankful. I'm supposed to be thankful - "Give thanks in all things" (1st Thessalonians 5:16). And I should - it's the screen not the hard drive (as far as I can tell right now), so all my data should still be there waiting to be transferred. And I did get approximately 6 years out if it, which is longer than I probably could (or should) have expected.

I should be thankful. Ironically, not really feeling it now.

The overwhelming feeling I have at the moment is that of frustration. Not just at the sudden failure of the screen and the inconvenience - that's really all it is - of potentially recovering and relocating my files, but really at the timing of it in my life.

"It's not fair" I scream internally. "It's not as if we have the money at the moment to replace the darn thing. Yes, I know we can make do with a single unit but still - come on, isn't there a lick of fairness in the world?"

Ironically, I also consider it somewhat less than coincidence that with a short period (2 months), the last two items that were of The Firm - the laptop and the desk chair I sat in - have both suffered breakdowns. Literally, with the exception of the lingering financial ramifications, there is no evidence that any of that ever took place.

I don't know. Maybe it is a clearing of the slate, a sort of final cleansing of so much of my life and (in a lot of senses) the poor decisions I have often made. Or perhaps just a test of what I should be practicing on a daily basis: thankfulness.

Either way, it appears that boot up cycle I was thinking about is still going on as we speak.

Waiting to Boot

My laptop is a relic, the last the I own from the adventure of The Firm, a 2005 Presario 2200 from Compaq. It quietly sits in the 4 x 4' area allocated to me as my "offic" atop the second floor. It's older, but still functions effectively for what computers are supposed to do.

It is, however, occasionally frustrating.

As in this morning, when I started it. It ran through its initial start-up "Windows" materials, then rolled into the main screen. I started mentally preparing myself to write this morning, and waited for the computer to finish booting.

And waited. And waited.

Frustrated, I clicked in on the Explorer icon, hoping to kick it over to what I needed. I initially successful - the window came up - but then I couldn't do anything in it. Suddenly another window came up, then a third and fourth. I tried to close two of the windows, becoming increasingly aggravated. The computer then helpfully kicks up the "failure to close" window, so now I have five windows open. Point and click, point and click, until windows 3-5 are gone. I'm back down to 2 windows - but now I can't get into either of those, and then they both close on me as well.

It's now 15 minutes since I initially turned the computer.

Fine. I try Explorer again. One window comes up again - Yay! Then a second one. It then becomes a race - which one will allow me to get to my e-mail? I bet my effort on the first window but it sticks. Suddenly, the second window pops up, ready for me to enter my password.
I enter it, but then the first window pops back, ready to go. Do I close the first window which seems to be working, or the second window, which seems to be faster now? I choose the second, only to have it stick while the first window comes back victorious.

It is now approximately 25 minutes since I booted the computer.

As I sit here in my frustration, trying to be patient, reminding myself that I am blessed to have a computer, reading, looking at the computer, becoming more aggravated then trying to redirect myself - suddenly I realize that this reminds me of how my life feels so often: always waiting for it to boot up, becoming frustrated when it doesn't start up and trying to find something else to do while I wait, then looking at it, the clock, and thinking things should be moving faster.

I could always get another computer. How do I boot my life up faster?

Drought

The humid morning
and flying clouds are taunting:
What, no rain as well?

Lots

"No-one will improve your lot in life if you do not yourself." - Bertolt Brecht

"Submission to what people call their "lot" is simply ignoble. If your lot makes you cry and be wretched, get rid of it and take another." - Elizabeth von Arnim

Our lot in life.

How do we get them? How do we choose them?

How do we improve them?

Or are they simply a combination of both - choice and circumstance?

Some of the fundamentals of our lots we cannot choose: our parents, our siblings, where and how we grew up, where we attended school, our physical size.

But as we get older, we can choose the fundamentals of our lot: what we believe, what we do, who we associate with, whom we marry, what we put our energy into.

Then at what point do the choices become fixed, our "lots" become prison bars which we seemingly cannot escape from?

Because the reality of the quotes listed above is that in fact we have a great deal to do with our lots in life - and that we have the power the choose and change them, if only we will.

What's your "lot" in life? How did you get there? And if you don't like it, what will you do to change it?

Commitment

"Jibun no miseta koto wa saigo made jikko suru koto" (Always keep your commitments) - Samurai no Kokoro-e (Precepts of the Samurai)

We are not a people of commitment.

Perhaps I really indict myself: I am not a person of commitment.

I have to come to understand, more intensely than ever, that commitment is the one key to success in anything: business, marriage, child raising, financial or business success, weight loss. Everything else - plans, routines, programs, intentions, support materials - is useless without this one component.

If so necessary, why is it so seldom practiced by myself (if not the society around me)? Two reasons occur to me:

1) Commitment is difficult.

When one commits, the understanding is that one will do what one has said one will do. It is not difficult for easy things ("I'll call next week") or even when we commit to other people (although I break those often enough as well). The most difficult commitments are the one I make to myself.

More difficult than commitments to others? Of course. I have trained myself over the years to accept the fact that I can break commitments to myself and there are no repercussions. It's true that there are no repercussions for other people; however, I fear it has left me with the acknowledgement that commitment (to me) is not something I value.

Which is ridiculous - and short sighted. Of all people, the commitments to myself are the first ones I ought to be keeping. If keeping a commitment is a measure of respect for my promise, what do I say about how I respect myself?

2) Commitment limits us.

To the extent that we commit to something, we voluntarily set something aside - from as simple as time ("I'll call you" means I will not be doing something else with that time) to something as long ranging as business success ("I commit to completing this project" means that there are other projects I will now not do).

As much as commitment is about finishing and following through, it is about making choices with the limited amount of time and energy each individual has. We are finite creatures: we can only truly commit to a number of things. Far better (for myself at least) to maintain the illusion that by not committing, I maintain my ability as a free agent to choose the best option.

The problem with this is that time is against all of us. By not choosing, by not committing, we do maintain our free agency - however, we also lose precious time to begin the journey on those commitments. Time is not endless - in many instances, the decision not to commit now means we may never have another chance to commit to that thing.

So if commitment is the prerequisite to success, and at some level success in anything makes it worthwhile and improves our lives, what am I really willing to commit to?

What about you?

Petitions

"And in that day you will ask Me nothing. Most assuredly, I say to you, whatever you ask the Father in my name He will give you. Until now you have asked nothing in My name. Ask, and you will receive, that your joy may be full." - John 16: 23-24

"Now this is the confidence that we have in Him, that if we ask anything according to His will, He hears us. And if we know that He hears us, whatever we ask, we know that we have the petitions that we have asked of Him." - 1 John 5:14-15

I've been thinking a great deal about prayer of late - specifically my own, not only in terms of time spent (which is typically abominable), but what I pray about.

I've been through many different forms of prayer: the standard written prayers of a Luther or St. Anselm, prayer acrostics (Worship, Adoration, Thanksgiving, Petition), even free forming as I go.

But in my reading through the Bible in a year and especially of late, moving through 1-2nd Chronicles, 1-2nd Kings and Ezra, I am struck by the difference in my own prayers and those recorded.

Among other elements of the prayers there, the thing that struck my mind this week - even this morning- was how the prayers focused around 1) The need for God's mercy, for God to act; and 2) Petitions which were addressed to things God had already said He would do, if the people would obey. It brought me spinning back the verses quoted above in 1st John, which may be some of the most abused biblical verses in the Bible.

While many people, especially those of the "health and wealth" gospel, have used it to justify praying for anything and been assured that it will be answered, they fail to address the part "according to His will". Apparently it is assumed that God's will is pretty close to my own, since He wants me to be happy and have life abundantly, doesn't He...

How often do we think before we petition God? Yes, I know that we need the elements of praise, thanksgiving and adoration in our prayer lives, but these are typically things which we can never have too much of. It's only in petitions that we seem to never have issues - although for myself, too often those issues are around prayer requests that directly affect me.

Can we know all of God's will? Of course not. Could our petitions be more in line with
what God wants? Sure they could. Scripture is replete with petitions we are to pray for: for God to raise up laborers for His harvest, for strength, for mercy and forgiveness, for our enemies, for healing. In fact (with some limited exceptions) I can scarcely think of a place in the New Testament where a recorded prayer is specifically from an individual about wants or desires - only needs.

This morning I tried an experiment: after thanksgiving and forgiveness, I prayed for the petitions I know of for others. I tried to eradicate any particular requests I had except for one (we're not told never to ask, just not to expect those things to be given to us), and of the rest only those which I perceived would be according to God's will: healings, relationships, health, restoration.

I've no idea that those prayers will be answered, any more that I did for the requests before. But I would suspect that if we do what God says - pray according to His will - our chances significantly increase.

All I Needed to Know I Learned From Samurai 7

All I Needed to Know I Learned From Samurai 7

1) If you need samurai and all you have is rice, get hungry samurai.

2) Help sometimes comes precisely from where you will not expect it.

3) Not everyone who will not join you in your fight is your enemy.

4) Know why you want to do things. Be very clear about this. Doing something without being clear will ultimately damage you.

5) Once you commit to a course action, at some point you will reach the stage that you cannot uncommit.

6) The best leader is the one both experienced and wise.

7) To end a problem, you must get to the root of it.

8) If you make people automatons, do not be surprised if they are obedient but less skilled.

9) Don't be fooled by appearances: skilled samurai come in shapes and forms you will not expect.

10) In war, as in life, find the best teacher and leader you can and follow them until it is time to no longer do so.

11) Good and evil really do exist.

12) There are things worth dying for - and living for.

Wall

I feel like I have hit an adamantine wall.

All roads, no matter what I try or what I seem to explore, lead me back to this one wall. The path goes under this wall, but I cannot get over, under, around, or through it. There is no door, no passage that leads beyond it.

There is no back here, no way to turn and go to a previous branching of the road. The path beyond may lead to the road behind, but I have no way of knowing that at this point. Instead I sit here, looking up at an obsidian black wall which I cannot understand, do not know where it came from, and pass through.

The problem is that I don't understand what I'm supposed to do here. I can't really move forward, but neither can I go back. I feel trapped in a limbo without direction, without guidance, without hope.

How does one pass through the doorway that is not there?

A Moment

It's funny how a moment can change your life.

Faced yesterday morning with mortality - a wake-up call of sorts from a younger coworker, diagnosd (and successfully treated) with cancer.

It's one of those moments that haunts you through the rest of the day, keeps you quiet as you drive home, even pensive as you go through your evening, surrounded by the noise and clamor of a baseball game.

The question keeps coming up: Why am I doing what I am doing? Does it matter? What should I be doing?

In that moment of self realization, all lesser things take a back seat. All of a sudden, the blandness and mundanity of one's day - the examples of trying less than 100%, of skating through rather than succeeding through - all of this is swept away by the fact that life is real, and time is not what we believe it to be, and so much of what we pretend to do as "important" really isn't.

The thing that surprises me most is the overwhelming feeling of shallowness I felt, that so much of what I am dealing with that I believe to be important is simply window dressing, empty streamers hung in a room which will be briefly enjoyed and then torn down and thrown away.

What are doing with our lives - building structures, or just decorating rooms? One matters and lasts beyond us, the other is merely a passing fancy which will come down sooner than we know.

Christ in the Boat

Yesterday's sermon (timely enough) was on failure.

The text for the sermon was from Luke 5: 2-11, where Christ is teaching by the Lake of Gennesaret and has Simon Peter take his boat out so he can teach. After the teaching, he tells Simon to take his boat back out into the deep water. Simon's response:

"Master, we have toiled all night and caught nothing; nevertheless at Your word I will let down the net."

The result? Their nets are so full that they reach the point of breaking. Simon Peter realizes the man in his boat is something more, and Peter, James and John become disciples of Christ.

The point of failure (since this is not a typical text of Peter's failure, as he managed to have many)? The simple fact that they had failed to catch anything the night before.

The interesting point in the sermon was not the fact that Peter had failed nor that Christ got into the boat - it was that the decision to get into Peter's boat was Christ's. Peter had nothing to do with it. Yes, he had to make the decision to follow what Christ suggested (and think of it from Peter's perspective: what would an itinerant preacher, a carpenter, know about fishing?), but the initial thing that made everything possible - Christ's presence - Peter had no part it in. It was Christ's decision.

The point, said our pastor, is not that we fail - we all fail, sometimes in ways that are painful and embarrassing and scarring - but to realize that, if we are believing members of the body, that Christ is in the boat with us. We need to accept that fact, listen, and get ready to do what He says, be it go back to fishing where we were or simply put our boat out a bit so others can hear Him teaching.

So having failed - as we all do - is Christ in your boat? And what is He asking you to do?

Useless Knowledge

What constitutes useless knowledge?

I ask this question in the context of a society and a world that has become intensely knowledge dependent. Knowledge, more so than any other factor, is the acknowledge (clever pun, no?) to advancement and success.

The definition I often hear or see used for useless knowledge is knowledge which in no way contributes to what I actually doing, typically in the business context: the royal line of England, how cheese is made, the parts of a katana, the fact that only certain varieties of armadillos and humans can catch leprosy. To rattle one of these facts off in the context of the work environment is to stop the conversation, get a strange look, and then have the speaker continue on as if nothing had happened.

But I would counter that. Knowledge is useless only if it cannot or will not be used.

For example, I would argue much of my career knowledge is fairly useless outside of a specific narrow band of use. Perhaps 80% of my daily activities are not something that can be directly transferred to anything else. Certainly it only indirectly helps me with practical skills, like how to cook for myself or thresh grain or change a tire.

In other ways knowledge which is considered "useless" has been and is being lost at a fantastic rate. At one time, tribes of the Siberian plain knew how to make horsehair goggles to prevent snow blindness; that knowledge is lost. And as many societies make the transition to "modern", we lose precious a precious knowledge base, a base as significant and useful as that of any gene base we lose due to extinction of species. It makes us even more totally dependent on technology (never a good thing, in my opinion. Species that become specialized to a single environment or plant are in danger when that environment or plant changes).

So maybe we should expand our definition of "useless" knowledge from that which merely serves me in my present time to that knowledge which cannot really be used beyond a very specific situation. That knowledge, like a solar panel during the thirty days of night in Alaska, is truly useless.

As for me, I'll continue to gather my knowledge in the hope and belief it will someday be useful - like, for example, that whey from cheese making used to be considered a popular drink in inns and coffee house? Who knew...

In Need of An Epiphany

I am badly in need of an epiphany.

There's something I seem to be missing in my life, some turn that I feel I've missed, some answer that is lying before me that I'm not seeing.

I try and do things in a different way, seeking to move things about a bit and hopefully find a new synergy only to discover (yet again) that certain factors such as rest are boundaries beyond which my life cannot proceed. I try and dedicate myself to work on to find in my heart that I feel I am rearranging deck chairs on the Titanic every day.

On the one hand I continue to berate myself. I'm smarter than this. There's an answer there somewhere. I should be able to see it (or helpfully, it should manifest itself to me).

On the other hand, is it a case that the answer is here and I am simply not seeing it? I mean, I think I have been given answers and suggestions but they never seem practical or possible. Certainly my last experience with sudden career change has given me a taste in my mouth that lingers to this day (and not a good one).

And it's not just career either. I still have a list of activities that I would like to do that runs longer than my arm, yet somehow they continue to get moved out for the things that I have to do (but don't like nearly as much).

How do I break this cycle of trying, collapsing, wondering, and trying some more?

The List

I made a frightening discovery at work yesterday: I was actually accomplishing something.

Out of a sense of desperation (more than anything else), my group started to build a list of everything that we do. Everything goes on the list and is tracked, from the smallest request for information ("Customer Service") to the large document. Everything is categorized. Everything is filed. If it's new, I add to the "new" category for that week.

Here's the odd thing that happened: even with adding 25% of new tasks to the total, I have still accomplished almost 40% of the items on my list within a month.

I can't remember the last time this happened to me.

I'd be lying to say that this is not moderately satisfying. For the first time (ever), I have a sequential record of what I am doing and how much of everything I am doing. I have a hard number that I can point to - and something I can buck myself up with by saying "Yes, I am making progress somewhere."

It's a fascinating feeling.

The next challenge is to figure out a way to adapt this to my personal life. It would be false of me to admit that the sense of doing things is not addictive and rewarding.

I just need to figure out how do things that are actually important to me.