Autumn

The chill of Autumn has arrived in New Home. The mornings are darker, the air cooler, the light attaining that angle and softness that only Fall can bring.

Autumn is a season which I have come to appreciate more and more every year that it comes. So often we think of Autumn as a time of dying, of preparation for the death that Winter represents. Trees shed their leaves, many plants either die outright or prepare themselves for the rigors of winter, animals scurry about laying in their last stores for the coming ugly weather.

Admittedly, Fall can often be depressing. Once the beauty of the leaves turns away, we are left with a variegated pallet of browns and tans for our viewing pleasures. For those that love the sun, the shorter days and longer nights can be depressing; for those that love the warmth, it can be cold as well.

But I have come to see Autumn more clearly.

Autumn is not only a time of dying, it is also a time of preparing. Plants are dying, it's true - but as a gardener, there's a whole new set of plantings that occur for the coming spring ahead. Autumn is also a forced encourager: mindful of winter, it drives us to finish tasks which we would otherwise delay because darkness and cold are hard to work in. It is that time of the last harvest, when the gleanings of the garden can be collected before the final die off.

But perhaps most valuable to me, it is also a time of consideration: consideration of our own life.

Autumn is a subtle reminder that life is moving forward, and that the time we have now - no matter how long or short in the temporal sense - will eventually come to an end. Like the annuals in my garden, there is an end to our season as well. The falling leaves and brittle stalks are my own reminder that so much of what we spend our time on will fade into the soil of life. Am I seeking to build those things that last beyond life into my own? Or will I awake in the spring of Heaven to discover I failed to plant as I should have in the Fall of existence, with no harvest there to be taken.

Winter is coming, that is certain. How we act in Autumn will determine what we see in Spring.

Communication

Communicating is a hard thing.

Communicating - really communicating - is not only the ability to speak words and have them heard, but be able to convey them in a way that expresses what you intend to say instead of what other people think you say.

I actually feel I'm quite poor at this verbally. That surprises me a bit - after all, I can be one of the wordiest people I know and talk on for long periods of time. At the same time, communication seems - and actually is - hard for me.

Writing is easier. I'm not quite sure why, whether it's the medium (not face to face) or the fact that I can more carefully construct my thoughts before they are sent out rather than have them immediately transferred to the real world.

Phone conversations are an interesting medium - which sort of convinces me that it's a presence issue. I have no problem discussing things on the phone with individuals whom I cannot manage to spit out the words to face to face.

Why? I'm not really sure. It's not as if people's reactions are different on the phone as opposed to face to face. Maybe it's the fact that people's reactions are visibly displayed immediately - and to someone who is so often dependent on the reactions of others, it's a small form of torture.

Also, the most communication face to face most often happens with those who are closest to us - those that have (intentionally or unintentionally) the greatest ability to hurt us. A reaction from your manager about an idea is one thing; a reaction from a loved one about a personal issue is something altogether different.

So here's my issue: how do I learn to communicate better, all the time? How do I learn to speak what I mean without tripping over my fear of reactions.

Autumn Morning

Cool Autumn morning:
The heat of summer is passing
as wispy clouds above.

Loving What You Do

Reminded again last night of the power of loving what you do.

I had the opportunity as part of a local industry group to which I belong to tour a local microbrewery. It's small - a small warehouse with a tasting room. Split into two groups after the dinner, we walked through.

The surroundings were minimalist, the sort of start-up industrial appearance one expects concrete floors, concrete walls, with the stainless steel implements of brewing towering like sentinels above you.

But the best part of the tour was the guide himself, who was one of the owners. His enthusiasm for his job simply oozed from every pore. It was not enough that he obviously knew a great deal about what he was talking about, it was his demeanor and animation as he presented it. Here was a man who truly loved what he did (he started out homebrewing and moved up from there), had a dream, and is working very hard to make it happen. His open manner and the pride you could see in his eyes as he spoke was wonderful.

As I drove home three beer samples the wiser, it reminded me yet again how critical loving what you do is the key to any success you will find in the field of what you do. With the passion for brewing beer, I'm sure he would have never found the drive to learn, to volunteer, to work in other places gathering the knowledge required to one day have his own company, and sell others on the idea of his vision.

Without passion, anything can become drudgery. With passion, our dreams are only bounded by effort we will put in.

Empty Me

Holy fire, burn away

My desire of anything

That is not of you, that is of me

I want more of You, and less of me, yeah

Empty me, empty me

Fill, won't you fill me

With You

- Empty Me, Jeremy Camp

Hope

Hope is the indispensable ingredient in life.

With hope, all things seem bearable. Without hope, no matter if one had the whole world, life seems nothing but a long tunnel of despair that never ends.

What is hope? Merriam Webster defines it as: "to desire with expectation of fulfillment; to desire with expectation of obtainment; to expect with confidence." It that belief that something we want or desire will come to pass.

Note that hope does not incorporate any direct consideration of the odds against it. Hope does not preclude the probability of hard effort to reach the desired end; what it does do is believe that such effort will be eventually rewarded.

Without hope, effort ceases - or at least significant effort. We can go through the motion of our lives, but there is a sense of futility with which we do everything. It's the practical sense that everything we are doing is going to be packed up in a box, eventually to be sent offsite and then destroyed.

The object of hope matters as well. What do we hope in? What do we place our confidence, our desires into? Are we placing them into the appropriate vessel, or are we placing them in things which will fail us?

As a Christian, it is this point where I fail all too often. I place my hope in things of time - other people meeting my needs, a fulfilling career, a comfortable life, a meaningful existence. Not that there's anything wrong per se with these things; it's when I put my hope in these things, rather than the One who provides these things, that I ultimately fail.

And so it comes to focus. Where am I focusing my own hope? Is it on the things that will fail - those "broken reeds of Egypt" that eventually will not be able to bear the weight, nor meet the confidence I am placing in them? Or is it God, the One who Himself is hope?

But I must be careful. In placing my confidence in God, I need to be wary of the fact that my hopes are not the same as hope. My hopes are often desires; His hope is purification, salvation, and glorifying His name. In putting my hope in Him, I must needs hold all other things with a loose hand, lest in my need to have hope, I hold to the gifts rather than the Giver.

Rain

I sit this morning looking out my window into the cool, overcast backyard - something I haven't seen for probably 8 months.

We finally received rain over the weekend - about 2.5" worth - and the resulting cloud cover kept everything cool throughout the day. That has held to this morning, as the gray clouds continue to cling tightly to the earth.

As I went out this morning to practice Iaido, the ground was damp and noiseless and gave a bit - not at all like the crisp crunch of grass and turning in the dirt I've been doing for months no. The yellow leaves of the falling oaks carpet the wet-brown earth as I look out this morning, nice blending in and on the yellow sun-seared grass.

The morning is muffled as I sit here and type, the sounds of life seemingly far more distant than they really are. A lone bird sings its morning greeting near our yard, as other songs sound more faintly farther away.

It's a comfort to me, as I try to mentally prepare myself for another day, that such things as the simple rain of God - long prayed for, much appreciated - can create a thing of beauty and peace almost instantly in the midst of drouth and dust.

Conscious Choosing: Vision

What is your vision?

Vision is fun. Vision is the future. Vision is that which we want to do, hope to do, some day.

But the problem with vision is that it often gets submerged beneath layers of life itself. Vision can become dimmed with time, dimmed with tragedy, dimmed with the daily act of living itself. Before long, the bright crystal windows we looked out from in childhood have become the fogged and dim with the coal smoke of reality.

But vision is necessary - indeed critical - for conscious choosing. We can make conscious choices with knowledge of ourselves, we can make conscious choices based on the values we have identified - but without the vision of where we want to go, we end up living in a small circle circumscribed by the realities we live in, rather than potentialities we conceive.

Fortunately, vision is probably the easiest of the three elements of conscious choice to discover. It's fun, it's exciting - because it deals with what we want to do with our lives.

Some starter questions:

- What impact do you want to have when you're gone?
- What would you really like to do?
- Based on your knowledge of self and your values, what is the best way you can express that?

Vision is the star ahead of us on the ship of Conscious Choice. Find that second star to the right, and sail on to morning.

Conscious Choosing: Values

How do we incorporate our values into our daily life?

Values are probably the most underrated and often ignored part of the combination of knowledge, values, and vision. Knowledge is always easy to convince people of (who doesn't want to consider themselves from time to time), vision is easy to get enthused about (the future is always exciting), but values are those hidden things which are too often easy to ignore or override in ourselves.

Ignore? Value, like knowledge of self, often requires us to sit down and think deeply in sustained ways about what our values are. Some are very easy to nail down but others are far more subtle, influencing us in ways that are surprising once we identify them. But without knowing them, they simply become ignored - or overpowered by other things we think are values.

Override? Too often in my own life, I have sacrificed expediency for my values. Values are often things which are not immediately or physically rewarded; the rewards are often internal, the result of a life which is in harmony with itself and what it believes. It's often difficult to explain to others the benefit of such an inner harmony - especially when the press is often to accomplish things now.

But in order to avoid ignoring or overriding our values, we need first to define them. And obviously in some detail and depth: the clearer we are, the clearer we can be about the conscious choices we will make and why we make them.

Conscious Choosing: Knowledge

How do we come to the knowledge of what is truly important to us, of what our priorities are in life? And how do we separate the things that are important from the the things that we say are important?

These answers are important - critically so - if we are to engage in the conscious choosing which defines a life which truly makes a difference and is a success.

The difficulty for me, as I consider the question, is the fact that what I often claim as a priority, a value, a thing of importance, is whether or not such things are so. How did I determine them? Was it my own determination, my upbringing, my acculturation, even (as C.S. Lewis would say) the fact that my coffee was good and I feel fine with the world? Too often I think they are a conglomeration of all of these things.

In considering the question, I think one has to start with the concept of time and limitations. We do not have all the time in the world - an average of 77 years for most of us - and we cannot ever do everything that we want. Too often we believe this not to be case: we think that youth goes on forever, or we will have endless amounts of energy and resources, or that we can do anything we put our mind too (we can do most things, to be sure - but at what cost?). If we believe time and energy and talent are endless, of course we will never focus - we will always believe we have enough time for something.

But reality is far different. There is a time for all of us, and our energy and talents are limited by time and entropy. Based on that, we need to consider what we really want to accomplish, what is truly worth doing based on those parameters.

Some of them are seemingly unrewarded in this life. For example, it is important to me that Na Clann have a close relationship with God and good spiritual founding. This is of such important that we have decided to sacrifice our time and finances to ensure (to the greatest extent possible) that this occurs. Is there necessarily any recognition or direct rewards accruing in this life? Probably not - but that's not really the point. It is a thing that is a priority to us. And it means there are things that we cannot do because of that commitment.

What I wish I had sometimes is the equivalent of a river in my life. As it moves through the plain or high mountains, it would grind or wash away the softer rocks and soils, leaving only those things that are harder. These remaining stones and rocks, I submit, are the equivalent of those things that are the true values, the true priorities in our life.

But whatever that process is, it must be followed. We must determine - we must be realistic - that ultimately, we all have limitations. The sooner we discover what is important to us, the sooner we can be about doing something to make those priorities a reality in our lives.

Conscious Choosing: Definition

"Define success, pursue it, and put a lot less importance on the other stuff. That's how to succeed on the only terms that matter: yours." - Jeff Haden

In this process of conscious choosing - of making a decision thoughtfully and knowingly, rather than drifting along with the flow of life - what criteria do we use to evaluate how we make decisions?

This is critically important. This someone, I suspect, most people don't do in any reasoned and thought out fashion. It's far easier to disguise a "going along" decision with a "choice we made" - but when pressed, we often cannot come up with the reason why we made that "choice" in the first place.

The key is definition - definition of ourselves (knowledge), definition of what we hold as things of the highest importance (values), and definition based on these two items of where we want to go (vision).

But definition is a hard thing: it's not like a television program which is piped through a cable and gives us "High Def TV". Instead, it's a reasoned and intensive process of looking internally at ourselves and what we value.

In the quote above, Jeff Haden makes the case that success is not something that can be generically defined. But many of us do, defining it as "living comfortably" or "money" or "a good family life". The problem with generic definitions are simply that they are generic and not really applicable an individual's life. We are all individuals; success for each of us, success that would make us truly happy and gratified, is as individual as we are. But without knowing, we will never take the step of actually defining.

"The unexamined life" says Socrates through his pupil Plato, "is not worth living". If unexamined is defined, Socrates is correct: we will not, in the end, have a life worth living if we have not defined how it is that we truly want and need to live.

Conscious Decisions

I consciously made a decision this weekend for the first time in a long time. The specifics are not important; the general concept is.

How often have I made decisions unconsciously, merely going along with the flow of things because "that's what everyone else does" or "that's the path"? Too often. That's a bit of a surprise to me as I think about it, because I think I too often don't decide anything at all - which is, of course, a form of decision making itself.

But this morning it was different; this morning I consciously decided for something instead of unconsciously deciding against something. I did it based on a sincere sense that the timing of the decision was simply wrong - and that I was simply unconsciously making a decision that would not really address the true problems I was facing in my life.

That's one of the great things about making unconscious decisions, I suppose, of drifting with the stream: we are never forced to confront the ground issues that we struggle with, the thing that are really creating the issues in our lives and placing us in the situation that we find ourselves. Instead we drift in a cocoon of non-realization, carefully protecting ourselves from the hard confrontations of ourselves that will truly implement change in our life.

The odd thing? Even though with the decision nothing changes, I feel a greater sense of control and progress in my life than I have for a long time. I made a choice for something, to confront those things in my life that need confronting, instead of merely moving them down the road once again.

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood; I took the one less traveled, and it has made all the difference - Robert Frost

Back to Mornings

I'm moving my writing time back to early mornings.

I had moved my time to later in the morning, both to accommodate my new schedule as well as to use the benefit of having a functioning laptop upstairs I could access, being out of the hurly-burly of morning preparation.

What I've found instead is that the most valuable thing in my meditation or writing is not what I do, or on what I do it, or even where I do it: it's the silence to do it in.

The key to my own writing is silence - true silence, the silence of myself up early in the morning with nothing but my thoughts and the keyboard.

Why is this? I'm not fully sure. What I have noticed is that when I am writing later in the morning, my thoughts becoming clouded and hard to follow. My mind has apparently already moved on to the upcoming day, to the background chatter of Na Clann getting ready for school, to having to finish everything I need to do before I go to work.

In contrast, writing (as I write now) is a much more fulfilling experience. There is nothing except myself, the tick of the clock, the hum of the refrigerator, and the clickety-clack of the keyboard as I write. It almost seems that the hum and ticking are foils for the internal silence (and frankly clarity) that I feel: when I stop for spelling or to think, the gentle noises serve as the background I need to recollect my thoughts.

Working to go to bed earlier will be a bit of challenge, of course - but the ability to write and feel I've written as opposed to writing to get something out on the paper is worth far more than any 30 minutes of slumber.

The Epiphany of Love

I discovered last night what love really is.

Love is something which sometimes feels very hard to quantify, especially as one advances in years. Part of it, I suppose, is simply the fact that being with someone for so many years tends to dull the edge of what we grow up thinking love is: that bright, tingly feeling that makes every day bright, that makes every moment exciting, that makes the heart race every time one touches or sees or thinks of the beloved.

Another part is simply the confusion that our society has generated around love and sex. Simply put, for society love = sex. Our entertainment and literature glorifies it: love is physical involvement with someone else. If you're not - or not frequently anyway - you're not really in love.

The problem is neither of thing is love (as many others far wiser than I have written). If love is a thrill, then we will always be a people seeking new thrills and when that wears off, we will wander off in search of the next fix. If love is only sex, we will find ourselves constantly worried about if our physical life is enough, or if our partner will sudden turn on us, seeking the next experience.

What is love? The epiphany of love is that of a parent painstakingly care for their child, addressing every aspect of a condition that needs to be dealt with - not just the personal care, but the care of the ancillary items - and then doing it again, and again, as many times as necessary.

This example of service, of caring, of putting aside of one's own agenda for the sake of someone else, is one of the greatest examples of love I can think of.

Note that it is not even directed at the relationship between the parents. There are certainly no bright sparkly feelings, and no physical expression is exchanged. But this act conveys more about the underlying bedrock of what matters and what is important than the greatest Academy Award winning sex scene could ever do.

Physical manifestations change. More than likely, a sex life will as well. But caring and sacrifice as an act of love - perhaps the highest example of an act of love - is something which, I realized in a flash, is something so desirable and so understated it is often missed. And yet, the feelings and thoughts that underlay it are the very things so many people say they truly want.

Patience and Endurance

How patient and enduring am I?

Am I patient enough to diligently work towards a goal or objective that long term, even when I am mired in the day to day operations of life and everything is seemingly ineffective?

Am I patient enough to stay the course when the course itself is dark and cloudy and I seem to have lost the path - or worse, the path is washed away?

Do I have the picture in my mind of what I want to accomplish - that shining goal, that finish line- that I can hold before me as an icon in the darkness of daily life?

Do I even know what those pictures are? Without knowing, it is very hard to grasp them, to have any sense of going towards anything other than more darkness.

If I am becoming patient and enduring, what am I patiently waiting and enduring for?

Expecting and Working

"Don't go around saying the world owes you a living. The world owes you nothing. It was here first." - Mark Twain

I've been struggling this week - really, this month - with the dichotomy of success and the world.

On the one hand, I have Mr. Twain's quote. "The world owes you nothing." It's a profound comment - one that I think I have too often ignored or taken for granted.

For some reason, I think I've always believed that I deserved something from the world - you know, the "I've been good, I try hard, etc. Something should be coming my way." I have to accept, I think, the reality that it is simply not true - at least in the sense that it is meant.

The corollary to the point is that you have to work to get something. But here also I find a dichotomy. On the one hand, hard work is (in theory) supposed to advance and do all sorts of wonderful things. On the other hand, hard work and rewards are quite often not connected at all, due to the fact that while one controls one's work, one does not control the granting of the rewards. There are always personalities and political factors and rules that prevent such things from being easy transactions. So in a sense, one might say that hard work is hard work - and possibly something good might come out of it.

A second thought that comes to mind is simply that even with hard work and possibly "earning", there is often a bias against the rewards of the hard work. We have become a society driven by envy of one's neighbor on the one hand and a genuine sense of entitlement on the other: as a living, breathing individual, I am entitled to X - and you are not entitled to more, even if you have worked to earn it, because my entitlement overcomes your hard work. If we want to have a discussion about the roles and responsibilities, that's one thing; but I don't think we can equate the universe with societal norms.

Where does that leave me? Too often I find myself in any of these three positions: feeling I am owed something when I am not, or feeling I am working hard with no hope of reward, or occasionally working hard with the gratification of the reward. I need more of the last, less of the first, and a way to find a place or spot or activity or whatever in life where the middle one is true more often than not.

Perhaps I simply need to start with the basis: The world owes me nothing. Even in hard work, it owes me nothing. If there is hard work being performed and nothing is happening, then perhaps it's my job to make something happen - if not in that activity, then finding something else.

In this sense, I will not change the world. I can only change my view of it.

All I Needed to Know I Learned in the Highland Games

1) If you're trying, you're going to get scraped and bleed. It's just how it is. Keep going.

2) Prepare. Always wear something under you're kilt - you never know when momentum will take you down.

3) Sometimes the reward for doing something is doing the same thing, only with a heavier weight.

4) Kilts really are appropriate for any occasion.

5) When doing something, you will be most successful if using all of yourself. You cannot just muscle a weight to throw it; it takes your whole body.

6) It's about the competition, but it's just as much about encouraging those competing with you.

7) When heavy things start to fall, best to be out of the way.

8) Most often, the reason we can't do things is because we believe we can't do them. Try, and amaze yourself.

9) Balance - in caber and with life - is key.

10) There are only two groups: competitors and spectators. Be a competitor.

Autumnal Equinox

The First Day of Fall:

yellow oak leaves carpeting

the drought yellow grass.

Confirmation

Nighean gheal is going through Confirmation.

Confirmation, for those of you not in the know, is a process (also known as reaffirmation of baptism) in at least the Lutheran and Catholic denominations in which the catechumen (fancy Latin word for "person being catechized") in instructed in the fundamentals of the faith.

Us being Lutheran and all, we have the benefit of having two documents already laid out for us: The Small Catechism with Questions (by Dr. Martin Luther) and Luther's Large Catechism (again, by Dr. Martin Luther). The process where we are is a two year, alternating Sunday program in which they study the sacraments (for Lutherans, Baptism and Communion), the Ten Commandments, the Apostle's Creed and other articles of the Faith.

It's interesting to me, both because of the fact that it reminds me of my own confirmation (now 30 years past) and as a re-grounding (as it were of my own faith) - I don't know that I can expect my own daughter to memorize things that I myself will also not memorize.

It also brings a bit into thought the whole process of how we treat converts and deal with our faith.

I've the advantage of coming out of both the mainline Protestant movement and the non-denominational movement. Both have strengths - the power of structure of one, often the power of enthusiasm and energy and adherence to the gospels. Both have weaknesses - the confinement of structure and dead orthodoxy of one, the potential of no authority and misguided teaching with other.

In either case, the reality is that Christianity is not just a visceral emotional reaction or feeling, it's also an intellectual framework of what we believe, how it functions in relation to the world in which we live, and how we accept, acknowledge and incorporate these truths into our daily lives.

What is baptism? What does it do? What is Communion? What are the differences in how Protestants and Catholics and Orthodox believers approach it, and what does that say about how we interpret the Bible? It's questions such as these, perhaps not the primary fundamental of Salvation but the not unimportant Tier 2 fundamentals of what we believe and why we believe it, that tend to nag me in odd moments.

Many children - my own included - can tell me everything about the world of Harry Potter. Can they tell me equally about their Christian Faith and the fundamentals of it? And what does that say of us as church - not that we should not participate in the world around us, but that we can treat the important matters of faith as not as important?

Hierarchy

There is a hierarchy of goals and achievements that I had not previously perceived in life.

I have always understood that not all goals and achievements are the same, that some are more important than others. At the same time, I believe that I have discounted my larger aspirations to settle for the smaller ones.

Settle for the smaller ones. Is it really settling, or is it my inability to get beyond my greatest needs and fears (because these are always what limit us) that essentially "write" what I will and will not accomplish.

An example: I crave being liked more than almost anything, and so I step aside from hard decisions and hard conversations because I want to be liked. Of course, those decisions and conversations would actually propel me farther than the approval of peers, but because they are hard and because I shun conflict, I settle for the lesser.

For those that have achieved their dreams - however defined - there must come a time when the dream becomes more important than lesser things, that the going forward is more desirable than what is being left in place.

One thinks of those who have accomplished and achieved prominence: looking back in their life, there are undoubtedly situations and people and places that were left. It's the whole introspective interview with people stars grew up with: good friends and great times were passed through, moving to the greater thing.

Not all goals, not all achievements, are equal. The key is to figure out what you really want, and then move towards that.

Plateaus

I feel like I have plateaued in my life.

Plateaus, for those of you that may have forgotten your basic physical geography, is "a usually extensive land area having a relatively level surface raised sharply above adjacent land on at least one side". It can also mean "a relatively stable level, period, or position." The verbal form (which also works) is "to reach a level, period, or condition of stability or maximum attainment". Either way (and both work for the purposes of my discussion) it's a flat place which, while raised, is not continuing on any upward path.

Why do I feel I've plateaued? Because in so many areas of my life, I simply seem to be. I'm not really moving forward (at least in any measurable way I can notice); instead, I am at the same level I have been for some time.

Why is this? Is it because I've accepted the plain as the end of the journey when there are mountains in the distance? Is it because I have failed to realize that the journey continues on a dog leg, while I am sitting looking at the cliff, having missed the turn? Is it because it requires a new level of effort and I am simply lazy? Or perhaps that I have become too comfortable here on the plateau: it's flat, it's easy, and I already know all the routines.

Perhaps all. But life cannot be lived on a plateau forever - because plateaus, given time, wear away. It's either up the mountain or back to valley.

(HT to artofmanliness.com for their excellent article "Plateau Busting: How to Take Your Life to the Next Level", which got this thought train started.)

Monday Morning

Monday morning blues.

It is amazing to me how much my job affects other parts of my life. During the weekends, I have no problem at all sleeping 8 hours straight through the night. Sunday night, I inevitably wake up twice, always earlier than I need to, and inevitably feel tired as I prepare for the first day of the week.

Instead of the soaring feeling of waking up with a day of tasks to do (as on the weekends), I feel nothing but a low level of dull interest as I walk through the motions of preparing for another day. More and more, there is not sense of doing things for an accomplishment; instead, there is the dull roar of duty as I get ready.

How do I bridge this gap between these two land masses? It's clear to me that life can never be lived at its highest level as I continue to slump through week after week. At the same time, it's equally clear that the free fall of doing anything on my own without a well thought out (dare we say, God inspired) plan is not a recipe for success - it's the difference between taking the elevator down and cutting the cable: both will get you to the ground, one just faster than the other.

But I can sense it out there: the thing, that thing, something that gives me purpose when I leap out of bed in the morning, that gives me a sense of doing good here and in eternity, that makes every day rising like a Saturday. If I can only catch what it is.

September Sunrise

Crickets, cicadas

chanting as the full moon

crosses the sunrise.

Calling

How do you hear a calling?

How do you discern that something that bubbles to the top of your soul, something which has lodged deep within it, is something more than just a whim or a passing fancy?

I'm reading (slowly) Raising The Bar: Integrity and Passion in Life and Business; The story of Clif Bar & Co. by Gary Erickson (the founder). I like Clif Bars of course, and since the story involves food, it's certain to capture my interest.

But as I read through this man's creation, managing and successful implementation of a company that not only created a wonderful product, but has allowed a man to impact the world around him, I find myself hungering for that. Not only for the creation of a useful product, but the living out of one's values and making a difference in the world around one.

Living out of values. How wonderful a thing that seems to be, especially coming from an environment where values are not as nearly valued as the ability to get things done (in fact, values are not really considered at all).

So how does one know? How can one say confidently "yes" to a calling - any calling - and know that it is truly of God and not just one's own personal wishes?

The Right Questions

Do we ask the right questions of God?

Yes, I know, we all question God. Often it's the cry of a hurting heart - "Why are You allowing this to happen, Lord?" - or just as often a heart that wants - "Why can't I have that, Lord?".

But how often do we ask the question "What would you have me do, Lord?"

I know, we all think we ask this question of God. I believe I've often asked of God myself - but have I really asked it, or have I mouthed words.

To truly ask a question, of course, is to wait for the answer and want to hear it. And that's often our problem with God - we don't really want to hear the answer, or we're not patient enough to wait for it?

Don't want to hear the answer? More often than we admit. Because if we actually hear the answer, we will have to take action. And we're (or at least I'm) often desperately afraid of what God will answer me. If I ask Him what His purpose for me is, am I afraid it's something totally opposite to what I would like or that He'll make me do something I am completely unfitted for and hate (the reality is He very seldom has, but I tend to forget that).

Not patient enough? God answers on His own timetable, not our own. In our data rich and accelerated society, we're used to receiving an answer immediately (ala Wikipedia) or really quickly from sales people eager to sell us something. The concept that we might have to wait days, or weeks or even years, for response to prayer is something we can hardly fathom. If we don't hear anything, too often our own assumption is that the answer is whatever we predetermined in our mind that it should be - an almost assuming unless the answer is "no", it's "yes".

But (at least in my own experience) God will not be led to a decision, or pushed into it. Part of the listening, part of the waiting, is the process of patience and dependence he wants to build into our lives. Were we to truly listen and wait, I believe we would hear God speak much more than we do.

So when we ask questions, is it truly God's answer we seek? If so, we'll be willing to do wait it takes to hear the answer.

The Promise We Ignore

"Then Jesus told his disciples 'If any man would come after me let him deny himself, take up his cross, and follow me. For whoever would save his life will lose it, and whoever loses his life for my sake will find it.'" - Matthew 16: 24-25

How wonderfully focused I am on myself.

My world, too often, is bounded by me: my importance, my needs, all eyes on me. The lives of others - to the extent that the impact me at all - are measured on the convenience or inconvenience to my own life.

I can argue that it is natural, that God wants us to see to ourselves (He does of course, doesn't He?), that if I can't take care of myself I can't take care of others.

And then I am confronted (as I always am) by the words of Christ.

Deny yourself. Take up your cross. Follow me. Or to put it colloquially: Say no to yourself. Die to yourself. Follow in my footsteps.

That's where most people stop - myself as well. "Oh, the sacrifice" we moan. "Oh, the things we are surrendering. Say no to ourselves - what, say no to coffee? To a new book? Surrender my cherished goals - after all, if I don't do it in my life, no one will. And follow Christ - why, I attend church regularly, give, and even volunteer occasionally. That's more that most do!"

We stop - as I was going to initially stop - without the second part of the statement.

"Whoever would save his life will lose it" - not might, not probably, but will. Everything I do in the flesh to make my life better, to self-actualize, to be more fully human - if not done in Christ, will matter not at all.

"But whoever loses his life for my sake will find it" - not maybe, not possibly, but will find it. All the "sacrifices" we make of ourselves in the end will yield a far more rich treasure than anything we would realize on earth.

Do we accept this as Christians? Do we internalize it - not in the trivial matters of coffee and books, but in the serious matters of life and direction and building the kingdom of God? Are we so sacrificed on our small sacrifices we forget the huge sacrifice of Christ? Even sadder, do we fail to believe the promise of Christ himself that in dying to self, we will find our lives?

Is the fact that we often feel so powerless as 21st Century Western Christians due to the fact that we have never - really - denied ourselves and lost our lives?

Being True to Self?

How true am I being to myself?

I grapple with this almost on a daily basis - the constant back and forth of what I am doing, what I should be doing, and how it is impacting those around me.

Then again, what is the self to be true to?

Let's be honest - there are portions of all of ourselves that if we were "true" to them, would end in a constantly hedonistic lifestyle that used others, gave all attention to pleasure, and eventually would result in our own destruction. So even the idea of being "true" to myself is somewhat of a misnomer - perhaps more correct to say "being true to those parts of myself which are worthy being true to."

But then I wonder: is there anything that makes those "worthy" parts any less honest or straight than the parts that we ignore? Is there some objective standard by which we judge what is truly worth being "true" to?

Because even our best views of ourselves are foolish and often self centered. I am just as likely to consider those parts of myself worth being true to as necessary (but in reality, they make me feel good or I think I am skilled at them) as I am to ignore others that I really should be true to, but ignore for some reason (self sacrifice because I don't like sacrificing, being kind to others when I don't really want to extend myself).

So when I say I'm being "true" to myself, am I really saying I'm being true to the core of what I am - or merely the core of what I perceive to be myself, which usually coincides with what I really desire. How do I find that objective standard?

Hot

How ridiculous:

95 degrees feels

like winter has come.

Cool mornings chill me,

singing of a coming fall

hard to see from here.

Being Wrong

"To live a creative life, we must lose our fear of being wrong." - Joseph Chilton Pierce

So often I am a creature of fear - especially, fear of being wrong.

You ask me where this fear comes from. I'm not sure that I can really answer it fully. But I think it started long after my childhood and teenage years, into my adult working life.

Why? Because the things that are encouraged in childhood - creativity, spontaneity, a thirst for knowledge - are often the very things which are despised in adults by those that employ them (although lip service is often given to the contrary).

The reality is that much of the modern world is actual built on dependable, reliable, reproducible methods. Think about it - do you want your medications to be manufactured a little differently every time, or your cars to have their brake systems installed differently on each unit, or your food to incorporate random amounts of undesirable products? Of course not - we want (yea, demand) reliable, reproducible results.

In this arena of reliable, reproducible results, being wrong becomes more than just an experimental trend, a spontaneous exercise of inquiry, a quenched thirst for trying something a little differently. It becomes a costly mistake, something that will wreak great havoc on the system. And so, manufacturing becomes systematized.

But with that systematization comes a loss of that creativity, that spontaneity, that thirst. Does it still exist? Of course - but it becomes the preserve of a privileged few, the researchers and developers. For the rest, being wrong becomes so costly - sometimes costing a career - that even the chance of being wrong is never taken.

And so we continue to exist, slowly watching that part of ourselves fade into the small folds of our lives where it can live, a short of endangered species which has been set onto reservations in our soul.

But if being creative means getting over the fear of being wrong, and being wrong costs a great deal, is it better to continue to subsist in the twilight of creativity - or simply acknowledge that what we seek is beyond the sight of where we are?

Frustration

How do I effectively deal with frustration?

It seems to be a constant theme in my life at this point, from any number of angles. Even when I try and make the best go of it - "Today will be a good day" - something or other breaches whatever tower of inner peace I have tried to erect and leaves me gasping for air.

The net result? In some form or fashion, every day, I come home or go to bed frustrated.

Frustration, if you were wondering, is "a deep chronic sense or state of insecurity and dissatisfaction arising from unresolved problems or unfulfilled needs."

Hmm. Unresolved problems. Unfulfilled needs.

Unfulfilled needs I tend to steer away from - for my own part, much of what passes amongst society as unfulfilled needs are really unfulfilled desires, which are hardly the same as needs. But unresolved problems? Hey, I've got a fairly long list of them.

So here's a question: do I even recognize what they are? If I use a broad brush term like "unresolved problems", do I know what they are? Do I know what would resolve them?

So here's maybe a start: instead of just becoming frustrated, what would happen if I wrote down the problem each time it occurred: problem, what it would take to resolve it. Would that solve the problem immediately? No. Would it at least give me some sense of what the problems are in my life? Of course.

Through knowledge comes truth, and through truth comes resolution. Perhaps if I learn to see instead of reacting, I can more clearly understand what the nature of things is and what needs to be done.

All About Me

"A preoccupation with ourselves, our agenda, and our pre-conceived ideas, and a motivation to achieve personal peace and prosperity (i.e. pride) will be met with resistance from our heavenly Father." - Chip Ingram, Holy Ambition

I'm reading Holy Ambition: What it takes to make a difference for God by Chip Ingram. It's the first fully Christian book I've sat down with in a bit, having had my shelf overrun with business and ducks and self motivation.

The book is challenging - which is good, but also perhaps bad in the sense that it points to how far I have fallen from the goal. Ingram (who I'm familiar with from years past on the radio) does not shy away from pointing to the gaps that Christians often develop in their own lives. He proposes a six step process towards developing Holy Ambition: having an intensity to their passion and spiritual faith and discovery what it takes to make a difference to God.

One of the big steps (it's actually in the second step, so I'm jumping ahead) is that we need to get our eyes off our own lives and onto what God wants.

This is actually something I'm pretty bad it. Most of my life, simply put, is about me and my problems and my needs. I'd love to say that I'm not any different that a great many other people (That, I think, is true) - but that does not excuse it.

It pushes me, because I have trained myself (consciously or unconsciously) to think that life is about me. Part of it, I'm sure, is the simple fact that we train ourselves to be responsible. Who are we responsible for? Ourselves, of course - therefore as we work to resolve the issues that affect us, we come to believe that all issues around us are about us.

The other part - the not-so-kind part - is that I am a sinner, and as a result, I believe that life should be about me. My plans, my goals, my pleasure. The motivational/self help industry is no assistance in this respect: it's all about your dreams, your goals, your aspirations, your fulfillment, your self actualization.

Which is 180 degrees opposite of what God calls us to.

The second part of the quote from Ingram reads as follows: "By contrast, a genuine sense of desperation and dependency on Him and Him alone (i.e., a broken spirit) will be met with grace, power, and supernatural provision."

But that desperation and dependency, that broken spirit, comes from a realization that God is God and we are not, of becoming progressively more consumed with God and His agenda that our own.

If I'm truly honest, most of my life is about me: my dreams, my goals, my "right" to have things that are, my pleasure, my wealth. And how have I done with this consistent focus on me? Not so well, on the whole.

So there's the challenge: am I willing to concentrate on God and His agenda? Am I willing to become more consumed with His will and His agenda than my own?

Am I will to look at my life and its results and learn from what has occurred? Or do I insist on doing it my own way, even to the ultimate detriment of everything I want to achieve?

Early Morning Iaido

Bokudo dances:

pre-dawn light moves gracefully,

cut by discipline.

Powerlessness

I hate the feeling of being powerless.

I was reminded of yesterday as I left work: an e-mail, politely phrased and written in such a way as to seem as if the writer was doing a favor, but under the words was the concept "This is what we are going to be doing. Your opinion, while helpful, is not important."

It's times such as this that I feel so powerless about so many aspects of my life. Yes, I understand I have "the power to choose", but the power of choice is never an absolute that takes place in a vacuum; it is always constrained by the circumstances in which we exist.

Perhaps the most debilitating part of reminders of powerlessness is how they make me feel. Simply put, it drains the enthusiasm out of the activity in particular and life in general. Suddenly, the sense you can make an impact is gone, replaced by the real sense that you are essentially a "speaking tool" (as the Romans referred to slaves), there only to fill a particular purpose or purposes and nothing more. Tools, it may be recalled, have no power except that which is supplied to them. Likewise, the recipient of powerlessness is essentially the same: with the motive of the "blessing" of the activator, they simply sit on the stand, waiting.

The other debilitating part of the reminders of powerlessness is the how it impacts the environment. Spontaneity, drive, the urge to go the extra mile, initiative - all are drained away like a tsunami returning to the ocean, leaving only devastated fields and broken wreckage behind it. People may not always leave that environment but what it breeds - dullness, lack of initiative, lack of joy - would seem to be counterproductive.

But that, it seems to me, is not what they purveyors of powerlessness want. They often state they want strong individuals who are spontaneous, hardworking, takers of initiative - but what they truly want is individuals who will do what they desire with all of those qualities. Their need for power and control eclipses the ultimate need for the results they think they want.

Which, of course, is no fun for the speaking tools expected to produce such results.

It is a hard thing to realize that opinions and excellence in any part of one's life are not really wanted, that instead only the need to execute the demands of others is paramount.

Deconstruction

I am deconstructing my public web persona.

I have been swept in the concept of persona on the web, that branding yourself and free interchange was quite a good idea. I had daily quotes, I had occasional articles, I articulated a philosophy.

I was jolted into awareness by a request on LinkedIn by someone I would not have anticipated having interest in me, someone that set me to thinking about that public persona I've created.

Have I posted anything incriminating? Not at all. But my mind suddenly wandered to some of the articles and many of the quotes that I had posted, things that while innocuous in themselves, had the potential to be abused by parties which might make use of such things other than in the spirit in which they were intended.

And so the Great Deconstruction begins. Twitter Link is down; I may scrap the whole Twitter link entirely. The website is up but that may come down as well. Essentially, I'm attempting to scrub any personal branding from associations with my name, leaving a bland placeholder in my stead.

It makes me more grateful than ever that this forum has continued to remain anonymous. I had toyed briefly with the idea of changing that, of starting to link more often to other sites with my musings. But in light of recent events, it's better this way: I can write as I please. My friends know, my readers may guess, and others can hopefully just enjoy.

It's an interesting conundrum: in a society where transparency is more possible than ever, that very transparency makes one more vulnerable than ever, thereby really ensuring that many people will become less transparent than ever due to the risk of having words or comments taken out of context.

And so, after briefly rising above the water, the iceberg sinks back down leaving only the tip - this blog - as evidence to the outside world.

Extraordinarily

"Either write something worth reading or do something worth writing." - Benjamin Franklin

Do we seek to live our lives extraordinarily? Or do we settle?

I know what you're thinking - "TB, you're nuts. Not everyone - in fact, practically no-one - can live their life extraordinarily. Most of us are struggling to make it through the day. Extraordinary? Have you seen my life lately?"

But that's not quite what I asked - not "Are you doing extraordinary things" but "Are you living your live extraordinarily?"

They're different, you see.

We have come to accept that extraordinary really means great things, big things, things that attract public notice or approval: being a media star, or being a political politician, or a well known (infamous?) artist, or giving large sums of money to causes of our choosing.

These are big things, but they are not necessarily extraordinary things.

Extraordinary things are really different for each of us. Some extraordinary things are not visible to many. Some extraordinary things are really investments in the future of others. Some will never be known this side of Heaven.

Because extraordinary is not defined by the publicity that it generates or the size of the action, but rather by what the action accomplishes - and what it costs us to do it. Extraordinary deeds can be extraordinary because of who accomplishes them, not what they accomplish.

So are striving to live extraordinarily, putting our all into whatever our days hold? We may think that if we are doing so we are pouring our lives into hole like water into sand - but I question if that is really true. Perhaps it is just that we lack the patience and perspective to see the outcome of such things.

Thinking New Normal

Starting to think in The New Normal.

Having just resigned our lease (and looking at the numbers), I am starting to think in terms of housing - specifically buying one. Given where we are (New Home), a house is much more affordable than anything we could have procured in Old Home for the same size and price.

But in thinking about is, I'm not just thinking in terms of things like number of bathrooms (although 2.5 is quite convenient) or bedrooms (we only really use three, but having four is a nice luxury) or living space (if we spend all our time in the "family room", why do I need a separate "living room" - can't it all be one room?). I'm thinking in terms of what else I really want to do.

Like sun access, which translates into a garden (bigger and better than the one I have right now). Or green area, which translates into some kind or poultry (Ducks? Reading a lot about ducks at the moment. And geese.). And what kind of space I have between myself and any potential neighbors (probably not lucky enough to have no neighbors, but maybe two instead of three?). And how much I can do in a smaller space, instead of how much space do I need or can I get.

It's adjusting to the New Normal. It's accepting we're where we are at the moment, and meshing my goals and dreams with what is possible at the moment. The later, we'll take later.

For now, I'd settle for a better garden space - and the promise it entails.

Vision

How do you find a core of energy and drive to continue on in the fact of adversity?

I got home last night, having stayed later than I intended to fix a problem not of my doing after 3 days of audit feeling completely spent. I barely had the energy to practice Iaido and walk the dog before I crashed into bed. Elements of hope and aspiration I had been feeling earlier were wiped out in an avalanche of last minute fixes and two audits which seem to have gone unacknowledged by virtually anyone.

There were other things I could have done - should have done, probably - but were pushed to the side by a vast sense of exhaustion and lack of energy.

How do I find the drive to carry on with a vision of what I would like to do in the midst of what actually seems to be happening? Too often my enthusiasm is drained away, my plans set awry, my vision clouded by the day to day drain which masquerades as a career.

If there is such a vision, how do I fix it in my brain?

Morning

Fragrant coffee steam
entices me no matter
how little I've slept.

Five Values

I'm working my way through Brian Tracy's TurboCoach: A Powerful System for Achieving Breakthrough Career Success (I figure if I am going to be here for the duration, I might as well do as well as I can). The first exercise in the first chapter is "From the list of values found in the appendix at the end of this books, select the three to five values that most represent the organizing principles of your career or business."

What an opportunity! I get to define the three to five values I treasure most, that I either am or want to be. This was pretty exciting - and difficult, considering there were probably about 100 listed.

I carefully started my list:

One - Authenticity - was so obvious I didn't even make it past the end of the "A" column.

Two - Joviality - was easy (could have equally been Humor, I suppose).

Three - Wisdom - was something I have some of, but want more of.

Four - Godliness - wasn't even on the list, so I added it.

Five - And there I stopped.

Because there is a five - I just don't know how to define it.

I looked down the list, then looked down it again, then went back to front - and still did not find it.

I know what I want it to symbolize - the value of independence, the value of self-sustainability, the value of growing things and providing for one's self, the value of conservation, the value of simplicity, the value of the natural - but it's not something that I can really put into a word. How does one create a value that one cannot fully define?

But maybe to define it is simply to lose it. Maybe it is that sense of Authenticity, that I am what I seem to be (Benjamin Franklin) - and what I value is all of those things.

So maybe in fact those five values are four - or maybe eleven. Perhaps it doesn't really matter to define them as values, but as what is significant to me. Because in being significant, they are valued and if valued, a Value.

Generating Interest

"Do you see a man that excels in his work? He will stand before kings; he will not stand before obscure men." - Proverbs 22:29

How does one create an interest in something that one is not interested in?

This is the issue confronting me as I grapple with the reality that more than likely for the next 16-20 years - indeed, for the rest of my working life - I will be doing what I am doing now. The rather unhappy open secret is that I am not all that interested in what I am doing.

But interest precedes excellence - we cannot truly excel in something that we are not at some level interested in. And to excel - or at least to do everything else that I want to do - I need that excellence.

I have tried to convince myself that this is a life and death requirement, that this is my career - but what I generate is a sigh and endurance, not interest. I have tried to expose myself to industry readings - but again, the more I read the less I really seem to get excited.

There are, I suppose, exciting parts to my industry - the difficulty is that I am doing none of those things and not likely to become involved in them. Instead I plod through the daily grind of getting things done - hardly the cutting edge of anything.

Or perhaps I am once again misapplying the verse: the verse does not say "Do you see a man who is interested in and excels in his work", only "who excels".

So perhaps another illusion is indicated to me: I have thought I had to - perhaps, that I even deserved to - be interested in what I do. The reality perhaps is that interest is not required to excel - only diligence and getting things done. The interest, if it comes at all, is really more a frosting on the top of the cake rather than the cake itself.

The New Normal?

Is there a new normal in my life?

One of the last things I did last Friday before I left work was check my LinkedIn account - sure enough, a position I had interviewed for in Old Home has been filled. I am back to being in a position of not having any active interviews occurring.

Add to this the commissioning of teachers for my children's school at church yesterday - including the two of the three for positions I had interviewed for (I was very kindly told that without a teaching credential, I was not a good candidate).

As I sat there Sunday afternoon with my family gone and I alone, I considered the various things of my life that I had pursued in my past: teaching, pastoring, The Firm, performing, entertaining and writing. In each and every case, the thing had not worked out - and now, looking at it, I was forced to admit that those opportunities were truly gone - there are some doors you go through that, once passed through, cannot ever be exited.

But that was the past. Given the current economic climate and current state of my industry, the chances are greater than average that our stay here in New Home is going to be much longer than I anticipated.

So then I started to make a list - if I am stuck here and there are things that I am still interested in, can I do those and integrate them in my current life?

Suddenly my mind was surging ahead to possibilities. Yes, there is still a long road to hoe to make those things happen - but suddenly those things became possible, rather than opportunities that had passed and callings that may never come again.

Perhaps I have been waiting too long for the Old Normal to return, when in fact it is never returning - and never would have.

Welcome to the New Normal.

Why?

Heat without rainfall;
Garden's green but won't produce:
Reflecting my life?

Art and Science

My career is a science, not an art.

It occurred to me last night around 21:30 as I was pouring through documents to read in preparation for an audit by regulatory authorities. As I sat there, rolling through the pages and writing things down, realizing that I was much farther behind on things than I had thought, I suddenly came to the realization that what I am doing is a science.

I've tried to convince myself it's an art.

I believe I tried to do this as a sop to my spirit, an attempted gift to myself to make myself believe that I was not doing other than I was, that I was still involved in a thing that had nuances and craft and skill to apply. It was a way to try and give myself some level of dignity that what I do is special and extraordinary - perhaps a last vain attempt to pour a heightened level of personal meaning into my work.

While in fact there still may be nuance and craft, the reality is simply that what I do is much more of a science, "something that may be studied or learned like systematized knowledge".

On the one hand, I guess that's freeing. It means that if I want to do better or make progress, it's quite possible. Knowledge can be studied and learned. Systems can be followed. People can be taught. Others have succeeded - I need only do what they did to achieve what they achieved.

On the other hand, it's disappointing. An artist is one who, at some level, has an inborn ability that may not be held by others. By confessing that what I do is a science not an art, I'm confessing that I'm no more special in what I do than anyone else.

But, as mentioned yesterday, I can no longer afford illusions about myself or how the world works. And so art moves back into the realm of evenings and weekends, of those tasks practiced to please.

Welcome to the world of science.

Illusion

"Dillusionment is the child of illusion." - Chip Ingram

How do we create our illusions? How do we build them up in our mind until they become towering entities of the way things should be, seemingly nourished and watered by nothing but our own good wishes and wills?

I ask the question because I am become more and more disillusioned - about virtually everything in my life. I have all but surrendered any sense that my career field will be anything but what it is, that I will be doing it for a very long time yet, and that the concept of the "fulfilling job" is just that, a concept in the nebulous reaches of my mind.

I have all but surrendered the concept of being anything but a foot soldier in service to God. There was a time (illusion) I believed that I had been called to ministry or leadership; the disillusionment comes in the realization that any such opportunities are seemingly long gone and out of reach.

In personal relationships, I have all but surrendered the concept that they, too, will be anything more than they are. Great relationships of any nature are far more precious are rare than we give them credit for.

I could add to the list - interests that never went the way I hoped, dreams of doing things that never materialized - but in the end they all come to one conclusion: illusion.

Does this mean that I should attempt (so much as is possible) to abandon all forms of illusion? I'm not sure - but how to really do this in a meaningful way, and what that would mean. Because by stripping life of its illusions, it seems to leave nothing but the harsh reality: starkness with no beauty, utility with no elegance. Suddenly, there seems to be no reason to jump out of bed in the morning: the day will march on in grinding exactness, each minute fufilling the utility it was meant for.

But is this seeing life as it is, or is this too disillusionment? Have I become so disillusioned about life itself - because I had illusions (or dreams, if you will) about how it should be versus the the reality - or is the reality of the situation merely that disenchanting?

I wish I knew for sure. All I do know is that looking at the pain of disillusionment about how things are or the dour glow of reality as it is, I'm unsure which one should be chosen.

Clear and Simple

"It's strange how simple things become, once you see them clearly." - Midas Mulligan, Atlas Shrugged

We've returned from a three day vacation (thus, the lacking of posting yesterday). It was good experience - the first time, as I pointed out to The Ravishing Mrs. TB, that we have taken a vacation as a family in almost 3 years.

It was good to be away - mostly from work, but also from essentially everything else as well: no computer, no radio, no news, no TV except for cartoons and the occasional news report.

It's one of those things that hits you as you return to the shell of your world without the meat, the inevitable preparation that occurs the day before you return to work, slowly categorizing things in your mind and getting them ready to re-initiate as you prepare for your daily routine.

As I sat in the darkness this morning, preparing to get up and address the day, what I realized is that my life is truly simple - if only I would see things clearly.

To see things unclearly is to see things as society defines them and what I am supposed to "get" from them. A simple example: I am supposed to "climb" the corporate ladder because that's what people do, it is the way to increased responsibility and income, it is the way of "society". The reality is that while I acknowledge the money is important to doing the things I want to do, the corporate ladder - at least as it has been presented to me - is not something I care to do.

Because all the energy and time that go into the job beyond the work - the catering to egos, the additional hours without recompense, the shorted resources and increased expectations - do not add one iota to my enjoyment of life, one additional second to the time I'd like to spend do things I like, one additional cent in my pocket enabling me to save or spend more.

The things of importance - the things of urgency - are the very things that I need and desire to spend more time on, not the things that at best marginally or at worst make no contribution to my life.

It's all a matter of seeing things clearly. Once you do, things become simple.

Passing Along Unknowing

"It is because we do not pay attention that we pass along unknowing." - Takuan Soho

How much of our life is spent living at a low level of observation?

So much of what comes into our lives is usually not a surprise. Whether an personality dispute, a financial crisis, a company failure, or even our car running out gas, many people are often "shocked" at the "unexpected nature of the event.

What's usually clear - at least to outside observers - is that in reality, the signs are there are the time.

The relationship fails? Everyone knows you haven't been socializing or even speaking in months. A financial crisis? When you bought the house, you knew you really could not afford it but did so anyway. The car ran out of gas? The "Low Fuel" light was on; you just gamed how much fuel that really meant.

The unfortunate reality is that many of the events that occur in our lives are really plants of which we have sown the seeds far earlier. Anyone who knows corn was planted in a certain place is never mystified when the corn "suddenly" appears on the stalk. It is only the one who never planted the corn and always walked by the garden ignoring it that is suddenly surprised to see the ears blowing in the wind.

Interestingly this is seldom true of the "good" things that happen to us in our lives. We're quite aware of these - but usually because this takes effort. We are not surprised when the promotion comes to pass or the relationship blossoms or we achieve any victory because we know the seeds that were sown and we worked hard to cultivate them: the ear, when it arrives, is culmination of our effort. We are hardly shocked in the this case: we know what we planted, and we know what to look for it.

What would be the impact in our own lives if we paid attention to all matters in our lives, if we were cognizant of each action and moment as a potential seed sowing moment? I believe not only would the unexpected bad events occur much less frequently, but we would be far more aware of all that is going on around us. Instead of passing along unknowing, we would be more aware - and more able to cultivate those things that we wish- the gardens that constitute our lives.

All I Needed To Know in Life I Learned from Thirteen Assassins

1) It is not your numbers, but your skill and dedication to the cause that matters most.

2) There are men and women at every level that are willing to do the right thing.

3) There is nothing more cruel than injustice which is recognized but not acted upon.

4) If you have no sword, fight with a rock. If you have no rock, fight with your fists.

5) There is nothing more pathetic than someone who knows the right thing to do and will not do it.

6) Judge no-one by their appearance. Great skill lurks in even the rudest appearing forms.

7) Know who and what you serve.

8) Youth is no indicator of lack of dedication and skill, age no indicator of wisdom and right thinking.

9) Understand that in some cases, the only way things may get done is in an unorthodox manner.

10) Never compromise your standards and morals.

11) To catch a bigger fish, get a bigger hook.

12) Sometimes you have to gamble everything to get anything.

13) There are not insurmountable odds, only circumstances that need to be adjusted in your favor.

The Abdication of Responsibility

I'm performing what seems to be my now annual re-read of Ayn Rand's Atlas Shrugged. I've recommended the book before, and continue to do so as a well thought out and well written novel (and as always, I recommend it with the caveat that I don't endorse or believe everything Miss Rand did).

One of the many themes of Atlas Shrugged deals with the abdication of responsibility, that some individuals make no decisions lest they be blamed for them, make no decision but attempt to make others make them for them, or simply make the decision but fail to accept responsibility for the consequences. The book identifies this as a major problem of the antagonists: individuals at the top demand decisions and then refuse to accept the responsibility of the consequences, while others farther down the food chain realize that they are being asked to decide in order to be blamed - and they, too, pass their decisions to yet others farther down the food chain, to the point in the book that a telephone operator is essentially forced to make the decision to send a train into a tunnel and almost certain death.

Perhaps the reason this is so much on my mind at the moment, and so poignant, is that I am seeing a version of this played out right before my very eyes. Decisions are called for but not made, and then when the consequences inevitably play out, the outcome is translocated to another individual. Suddenly, the original people who didn't make the decision but made the consequences want to get the item resolved as quickly as possible. "No time to assign blame" they say, or "What happened in the past is not important. We need to solve this problem now." The consequences of those decisions are never acknowledged by those who transferred the responsibility. Blame - if there is any to be passed around - always falls to the lowest level, to those dealing with the circumstances or solving the problem.

Abdication of responsibility. Our society reeks of it. It's in our business, in our politics, in our economy, in our personal lives.

How did it start? I'm not sure - at some levelit's always existed - but it occurs to me that when effects were separated from causes, when individuals were told they were not responsible for what happened to them and therefore not responsible for what they did, we began a walk down a road of no return.

Because - and this is one of the hearts of Atlas Shrugged - if an individual, business, society, or political system continues to abdicate responsibility, those who are responsible, who often times hold the whole enterprise together, abdicate their involvement as well.

An easy example: Businesses and management treat their employees badly, imperially, like interchangeable parts with no real hope of advancing, and are then confused why no-one shows initiative or that calls for sacrifice and long hours are met with indifference. Or when a political system calls for additional sacrifices from the productive and the productive, who have already watched their productivity be siphoned away, simply refuse to respond to such calls and instead endeavor to lower their productivity except for themselves. Or when an individual, constantly harassed or blamed by another in the relationship, decides to simply be and not engage.

Because abdication of responsibility can work both ways - not only for those who thrive and grow in it (to a point - no system can ultimately succeed without some responsibility) but for those who are truly and ethically responsible as well. When the first group does it, it is annoying and disheartening. When the second group does it, it is ultimately fatal - to the relationship, the business, or the society as a whole.

Transfer Up and Down

Yesterday I came to see how much people treat me the way they do in my life because I accept the way the treat me.

I have learned that some people have the modus operandi of always "transferring responsibility and accountability" down - when what they really do is transfer blame. Failures to perform in the midst of trying circumstances including overwork, under-resourcing, and h0stile environments become examples of how an individual "failed" to perform their tasks.

And for many years I have accepted this.

What I came to see - in a blinding flash of insight - is that this is so because I allow it to be so. Rather than raising the questions at the time, or making cogent points as to why things cannot be as I am charged, I have quietly accepted the matter as "this is the way it is."

I'm going to challenge the status quo on this - because the transfer of responsibility and accountability is only truly effective when the elements of success are also in place. If I fail to perform, it's my fault; if I fail to perform because the appropriate resources are not available, that's the fault of those who assigned the tasks in the first place. This is not, however, a popular thought on the part of the assigners, because blame that is being assigned for failure is being pushed up instead of down.

Accountability and Responsibility are useless without the transfer of the tools to do the task - otherwise, they simply become a potential point of certain failure.

And this - all of this - I have accepted without question.

I will accept it no more.

Serving Evil

I watched the movie Thirteen Assassins last night. A samurai picture of recent vintage (and not, I might add, suitable for younger viewers), it left me only with questions as I went to bed.

At its core, the movie asks two questions:

1) In the bushido ethos of loyalty to one's lord above all, what does one do when that lord is evil?

2) What is the requirement of good men to serve evil men?

Bushido (as it became codified through the years) required the loyalty of a retainer to one's master, no matter what the consequences or what the nature of the master. This becomes evident in the moview when incidents reveal the cruelty and capricious nature of the Shogun's half brother Naritsugu is revealed to his chief retainer, Hanbei. He knows his master is evil - but he holds to the tenants of bushido that loyalty to the master is above all. In the end, 200 men die to protect a less than worthy lord, as well as all those who Naritsugu has slain in the movie or is suggested to have slain - a testament to the bushido ethic, but not to the greater morality.

Which gets to the second point: what is the requirement of good men to serve evil? At what point does bushido (or in Christian ethics, submission to a higher authority) fall before the greater moral law that evil is simply evil and then is to be destroyed? Is the law of individual honor or the law of the betterment of the whole the supreme law?

Watching the movie, one can understand the inherent flaws that existed in bushido, the flaws that eventually brought the system down. Caught on the horns of loyalty to one's lord and the Confucian ethics of a good society flowing from the good rule and morals of the rulers, a contradiction existed and continued
in the system until the Meiji restoration (in which bushido ethics found the ultimate lord, the Emperor, who would make a good society by good rule)- but a system which eventually destroyed the samurai and the bushido system that had made it possible. The question for that time, it seems, resolved itself.

But evil still exists. Good men (and women) serve those individuals and systems which are evil and malevolent. The moral questions still remain, ready for another generation to review and attempt to resolve the contradictions which, perhaps, simply cannot be resolved.

Mornings of Quiet Desolation

Today was a morning of quiet desolation.

One wouldn't think so. After all, today is Friday, the last day of the week. Theoretically a downhill run until Saturday.

But no. Not this morning. Not one bit of energy.

I got out of bed at the regular time and promptly went and flopped on the couch downstairs. Thought briefly about going to the gym, but just felt too..."blah"...so on the couch I laid.

I simply had no energy - or interest - to do anything: Iaido, study, even really make coffee. Just me on the couch, occasionally pulling the pillow off from over my head to see if it was light enough that I had to get up.

I know what it's about. I can pinpoint the cause specifically. What hurts is that the cause cannot be easily or simply remedied - and even if it can, the length of time it will take seems terribly daunting at this moment.

But that doesn't help now - even now when I am up, feeling the slow call of the clock keeping minutes, calling me away to one more day of the same. There is no sense of "It's Friday", but only a sense of "Lord, let me just survive today."

Changes That Don't Matter

Our management team at work has undertaken a somewhat disconcerting task at work: interior beautification projects.

Within the last two weeks my reports have been moved to another office, that old office has been painted and will get new carpet, the halls are being painted and decluttered, cubes are being removed to give more "space" and items that stick above the cube level are being removed. In the end, we will be working in an airy white area with blue cube walls - the prototypical "Dilbert" cube world.

The odd thing is that whatever the purpose is, I am sure of what this will not accomplish: any actual improvements to the system. Our products and services will not be better, we will not be more efficient, and this in no way increases our bottom line. It looks better to individuals as they periodically walk through, but doesn't really seem to actually improve anything.

I snort and become vaguely annoyed that it is happening at work; I ignore the fact that the same is probably true in my own life.

How often do I do the same in my own life? Repainting the outer walls, moving things around in my head or my life, trying to do things which give the impression that real change is being made, while in fact no substantive change is being made in my own life? I'm kinder to myself than I am to the others, but the reality is the same.

What real changes am I making to my own life? Not illusory or for show, but for real?

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.