The problem and solution have now both been laid before the Israelites:
The problem: They have suffered a drought which has affected their crops and their livelihood.
The reason: they have been more concerned about their own lives and lifestyles than they have about being obedient to God and glorifying Him, as seen by the condition of the Temple, which is in ruins even as their houses are built in luxury.
The solution: rebuild the Temple that God may glorified, both in worship and by the nations around Israel.
The question: what will Israel do?
"Then Zerubabbel the son of Shealtiel and Joshua the son of Jehozadak, the high priest, and all the remnant of the people obeyed the voice of the Lord their God, and the words of Haggai the prophet as the Lord their God had sent him, and the people feared the presence of the Lord. Then Haggai, the Lord's messenger, spoke the Lord's message to the people, saying "'I am with you' says the Lord. So the Lord stirred up the spirit of Zerubabbel the son of Shealtiel, governor of Judah, and the spirit of Joshua the son of Jehozadak, the high priest, and the spirit of all the remnant of the people; and they came and worked on the house of the Lord of Hosts, their God, on the twenty-fourth day of the sixth month in the second year of King Darius." (Haggai 1: 12-15)
1) They obeyed: "Then Zerubabbel the son of Shealtiel and Joshua the son of Jehozadak, the high priest, and all the remnant of the people obeyed the voice of the Lord their God, and the words of Haggai the prophet as the Lord their God had sent him, and the people feared the presence of the Lord. " (v. 12). The first step to making any progress in any part of our lives where God has told us that we are going the wrong way is the exercise of repenting, of agreeing with God about the nature of our sin and turning from it. It may be easy to say, but hard to do because often we have invested a great deal of time and energy in making a decision to go our own way rather than to go God's way and turning around can be embarrassing, humiliating and sometimes expensive.
How do we know that they repented? Because "they feared the presence of the Lord." They had the same reaction that the people of Israel did at Mt. Sinai when the Lord came down on the mountain to deliver the Law: "You speak with us, and we will hear, but let not God speak with us, lest we die." (Exodus 20:19). They acknowledged God as sovereign and were willing to obey Him.
Were they sincere? We know they were, because Haggai take the effort to say that he, as the Lord's messenger appointed by God spoke God's message to them. And what did God say? "I am with you" (v.13). This is a statement God would not have made unless their repentance and obedience was real. It was also a reminder to them of their own history, of when the Israelites crossed the Jordan into the Promised Land. There, too, in the midst of seemingly impossible odds, God had reminded them that he continued to be with them.
2) They worked: "So the Lord stirred up the spirit of Zerubabbel the son of Shealtiel, governor of Judah, and the spirit of Joshua the son of Jehozadak, the high priest, and the spirit of all the remnant of the people; and they came and worked on the house of the Lord of Hosts, their God, on the twenty-fourth day of the sixth month in the second year of King Darius." (v. 14-15) John MacArthur notes "The Lord energized the leaders and the people through His word to carry on the work of rebuilding the temple...The people's response of repentance and obedience allowed God's Spirit to energize them for the task" (MacArthur Study Bible, p. 1334). Through their obedience in repentance and fearing the Lord, God gave them the spirit to work. So they began working to rebuild the temple, to repair the ruins, to bring the wood from the mountains and build so that the Lord of Hosts could take pleasure in the temple and be glorified, as he had stated.
The thought I'll end with today is MacArthur's comment "The people's response of repentance and obedience allowed God's Spirit to energize them for the task". How often do I get that statement backwards? How often do I seek to mentally build up the energy to do something for God rather than starting at repentance and obedience? God is quite clear throughout Scripture that His will is the one that will ultimately be accomplished. If that is so, then I should be less concerned about finding the time and energy and will to do it and more about repenting of those things in my life that keep me from it and simply being obedient to whatever God asks me to do. God is more than able to energize us; are we willing to do the so often seemingly impossible work of repenting and being ready?
Saturday, March 09, 2013
Friday, March 08, 2013
Rebuilding the Temple Part II
As you recall in yesterday's post, the Israelites of 520 B.C. had a problem. They were unsuccessful upon their return to the former capitol of the kingdom, Jerusalem. Their crops were withering. Their livestock was dying. The work they were doing was resulting in nothing but literally rolling out of the pouches and pockets they put it in.
They had the effect; God through prophet Haggai communicated the cause to them:
"'You looked for much and indeed it came to little, and when you brought it home, I blew it away. Why?' says the Lord of hosts. 'Because of my house that is in ruin while every one of you runs to his own house.'" (Haggai 1:9)
God was clear: His people were not honoring him. The Temple, the former dwelling place of His glory, the place where He was to be worshipped and glorified, was a heap of ruins. And after 18 years of their return, little had changed - oh, they had worked on their own prosperity, building houses with wooden paneling, reclaiming fields, starting businesses, but their house of worship was an eyesore in the midst of their rebuilding, the undeveloped center of town that every one turned away from and pretended was not there.
God told them the cause: what was His suggestion for the solution?
"'Go up to the mountains and bring wood and build the temple, that I make take pleasure in it and be glorified,' says the Lord (Haggai 1:8).
Three commands - simple, but direct:
1) "Go up to the mountains" - Get up. Stop what you are working on, the plans that you have laid for yourself about the things of your life and go to the place I tell you.
2) "Bring wood" - As John MacArthur points out, after 70 years of the Exile the trees had re-established themselves. Wood was a necessary component of building - indeed, the people of Israel had paneled their own houses with it. They knew what it was. They knew how to use it. They just never used it in the service of God.
3) "Build the temple" - Put aside your own plans and work on the House of the Lord. Turn away for a time from doing things that are all about yourself and do something that is about Me.
Why? "That I may take pleasure in it and be glorified".
Two points here. The first is that the results of the Israelites work would be the glorification of God to the surrounding nations. It is not that unreasonable if you think about it: people know what we value and treasure by the amount of energy and time we put into it. People who love their cars constantly care for them and people who love their dogs constantly groom and care for them. No different, says the Lord. The completion of My house of worship shows what you value and draws attention to the One who is worshipped there.
The second? Perhaps the most stunning. God says He will take pleasure in the work of their hands.
Let that sink in for a moment. The Creator of the Universe states that He will take pleasure in the fact that humans build something for Him. He could do it Himself in a heartbeat if He wanted to - but He gives His creatures the power of casualty, the ability to please Him through the work of their hands.
Tomorrow we'll discuss how the Israelites responded. The thought for myself - and hopefully for you - is this: What one thing has God spoken to your heart about that would glorify Him? Do you understand what He is asking for? And do you understand - and believe - that doing so will glorify Him and bring Him pleasure?
They had the effect; God through prophet Haggai communicated the cause to them:
"'You looked for much and indeed it came to little, and when you brought it home, I blew it away. Why?' says the Lord of hosts. 'Because of my house that is in ruin while every one of you runs to his own house.'" (Haggai 1:9)
God was clear: His people were not honoring him. The Temple, the former dwelling place of His glory, the place where He was to be worshipped and glorified, was a heap of ruins. And after 18 years of their return, little had changed - oh, they had worked on their own prosperity, building houses with wooden paneling, reclaiming fields, starting businesses, but their house of worship was an eyesore in the midst of their rebuilding, the undeveloped center of town that every one turned away from and pretended was not there.
God told them the cause: what was His suggestion for the solution?
"'Go up to the mountains and bring wood and build the temple, that I make take pleasure in it and be glorified,' says the Lord (Haggai 1:8).
Three commands - simple, but direct:
1) "Go up to the mountains" - Get up. Stop what you are working on, the plans that you have laid for yourself about the things of your life and go to the place I tell you.
2) "Bring wood" - As John MacArthur points out, after 70 years of the Exile the trees had re-established themselves. Wood was a necessary component of building - indeed, the people of Israel had paneled their own houses with it. They knew what it was. They knew how to use it. They just never used it in the service of God.
3) "Build the temple" - Put aside your own plans and work on the House of the Lord. Turn away for a time from doing things that are all about yourself and do something that is about Me.
Why? "That I may take pleasure in it and be glorified".
Two points here. The first is that the results of the Israelites work would be the glorification of God to the surrounding nations. It is not that unreasonable if you think about it: people know what we value and treasure by the amount of energy and time we put into it. People who love their cars constantly care for them and people who love their dogs constantly groom and care for them. No different, says the Lord. The completion of My house of worship shows what you value and draws attention to the One who is worshipped there.
The second? Perhaps the most stunning. God says He will take pleasure in the work of their hands.
Let that sink in for a moment. The Creator of the Universe states that He will take pleasure in the fact that humans build something for Him. He could do it Himself in a heartbeat if He wanted to - but He gives His creatures the power of casualty, the ability to please Him through the work of their hands.
Tomorrow we'll discuss how the Israelites responded. The thought for myself - and hopefully for you - is this: What one thing has God spoken to your heart about that would glorify Him? Do you understand what He is asking for? And do you understand - and believe - that doing so will glorify Him and bring Him pleasure?
Thursday, March 07, 2013
Rebuilding the Temple Part I
I had another experience of God talking to me two nights ago.
(No, not like that: no flashing lights, no voices, no visions. It does not work that way in real life for most of us).
I was pondering the substance of what I wrote about here, about how I see to be making a lack of progress in so many parts of my life. As I thought and thought, lying there, suddenly the 1st Chapter of Haggai leaped into my mind
The Book of Haggai (if you have perhaps forgotten your minor prophets) is one of the shortest books in the Bible. It was written by the prophet Haggai (convenient, no?) over the space of 4 months in 520 B.C. It was written with the intent of spurring the returned Jewish exiles to complete the rebuilding of the second Temple.
Why do I feel like this was something other than an early morning synaptic rush? Because the words of the first chapter, which I have struggling to memorize, suddenly leaped to mind with perfect clarity and recall. At least for me, this is how God speaks - through His word, where often a passage or sentence comes to mind at precisely the moment it was needed.
And what does God say to the Israelites?
"Now therefore, thus says the Lord of hosts, 'Consider your ways'.
You have sown much, and bring in little;
you eat, but you are not full;
you drink, but no-one is filled with drink;
you clothe yourselves, but no-one is warm;
and he that earns wages, earns wages to put into bag with holes" (Haggai 1: 5-6)
"You looked for much and indeed, it came to little., and when you brought it home, I blew it away." (Haggai 1:9a)
This all began to sound very familiar to me.
Why? Why was the Lord saying these things to the Israelites?"
"This people says, 'The time has not come, the time that the Lord's house should be built'". (Haggai 1:2b)
"Is it time for you yourselves to dwell in your paneled houses and this temple to lie in ruin?" (Haggai 1:5)
"You looked for much and indeed, it came to little, and when you brought it home, I blew it away. Why, says the Lord of hosts. Because of My house that is in ruins while every one of you runs to his own house." (Haggai 1:9).
The people had become more concerned with their own lives (as demonstrated in the concern for their houses) than they were about the Lord and his will and glory (as demonstrated in the lack of concern for the rebuilding of the Lord's temple, where the Lord was worshipped and glorified).
The result? The effects are listed in verse 6 and 9a above - but God made it more explicit:
"Therefore the heavens above you withhold the dew, and the earth withholds its fruit. For I called for drought on the land and the mountains, on the grain and the new wine and the oil, on whatever the ground brings forth, on men and livestock, and on all the work of your hands." (Haggai 1:10-11)
The thing to note (beyond the effects, which are specific) is who was responsible for all of this. It was not nature. It was not a random series of events. It was God acting specifically in the lives of His people, acting in a way to bring them back to the things that really mattered rather what they thought mattered.
The question that came through my mind as these words came through my mind was "What? What is the temple of God in my life that has not been rebuilt?" It is easy enough to make the connection in the Old Testament but what does it say to me today? Is it certain that the things I am experiencing in my life at the moment are the results of things similar to the Israelites of Haggai's day? I'd be arrogant to think so much of myself as to say yes. But is is possible that the same could be true? Absolutely.
But what is the "temple of God" - the place where God was worshipped and glorified by the Jews - in my own life?
(No, not like that: no flashing lights, no voices, no visions. It does not work that way in real life for most of us).
I was pondering the substance of what I wrote about here, about how I see to be making a lack of progress in so many parts of my life. As I thought and thought, lying there, suddenly the 1st Chapter of Haggai leaped into my mind
The Book of Haggai (if you have perhaps forgotten your minor prophets) is one of the shortest books in the Bible. It was written by the prophet Haggai (convenient, no?) over the space of 4 months in 520 B.C. It was written with the intent of spurring the returned Jewish exiles to complete the rebuilding of the second Temple.
Why do I feel like this was something other than an early morning synaptic rush? Because the words of the first chapter, which I have struggling to memorize, suddenly leaped to mind with perfect clarity and recall. At least for me, this is how God speaks - through His word, where often a passage or sentence comes to mind at precisely the moment it was needed.
And what does God say to the Israelites?
"Now therefore, thus says the Lord of hosts, 'Consider your ways'.
You have sown much, and bring in little;
you eat, but you are not full;
you drink, but no-one is filled with drink;
you clothe yourselves, but no-one is warm;
and he that earns wages, earns wages to put into bag with holes" (Haggai 1: 5-6)
"You looked for much and indeed, it came to little., and when you brought it home, I blew it away." (Haggai 1:9a)
This all began to sound very familiar to me.
Why? Why was the Lord saying these things to the Israelites?"
"This people says, 'The time has not come, the time that the Lord's house should be built'". (Haggai 1:2b)
"Is it time for you yourselves to dwell in your paneled houses and this temple to lie in ruin?" (Haggai 1:5)
"You looked for much and indeed, it came to little, and when you brought it home, I blew it away. Why, says the Lord of hosts. Because of My house that is in ruins while every one of you runs to his own house." (Haggai 1:9).
The people had become more concerned with their own lives (as demonstrated in the concern for their houses) than they were about the Lord and his will and glory (as demonstrated in the lack of concern for the rebuilding of the Lord's temple, where the Lord was worshipped and glorified).
The result? The effects are listed in verse 6 and 9a above - but God made it more explicit:
"Therefore the heavens above you withhold the dew, and the earth withholds its fruit. For I called for drought on the land and the mountains, on the grain and the new wine and the oil, on whatever the ground brings forth, on men and livestock, and on all the work of your hands." (Haggai 1:10-11)
The thing to note (beyond the effects, which are specific) is who was responsible for all of this. It was not nature. It was not a random series of events. It was God acting specifically in the lives of His people, acting in a way to bring them back to the things that really mattered rather what they thought mattered.
The question that came through my mind as these words came through my mind was "What? What is the temple of God in my life that has not been rebuilt?" It is easy enough to make the connection in the Old Testament but what does it say to me today? Is it certain that the things I am experiencing in my life at the moment are the results of things similar to the Israelites of Haggai's day? I'd be arrogant to think so much of myself as to say yes. But is is possible that the same could be true? Absolutely.
But what is the "temple of God" - the place where God was worshipped and glorified by the Jews - in my own life?
Wednesday, March 06, 2013
A Lack of Progress
What do you do when if feels like every direction you turn is a blank wall leading nowhere?
This is how I feel at the moment - that every direction I walk, every project that I pursue, that everything that I do is leads directly to high wall I cannot get around or over. What seems to be worse, these walls are moving in on me, constricting my ability to make progress.
It is the sense of doing the things you have identified as doing and finding none of them is going forward as you had desired; that the one thing that satisfies you the least has come to take up the most time, squeezing out the time to do anything else - and that this thing is also seemingly of such a nature that the more and more effort poured into it will not result in greater reward and progress but instead in no sense of progress at all.
There is almost a sense that I being bounded in by God, kept from moving forward in anything by His hand. Is it is sin in my life that is causing this stasis? Possibly - certainly it is easy enough for me to always find some sin in my life. If so, one should repent and move on (which I suppose for me is in and of itself something of a struggle). But even as I try to find those issues that are ingrained in my life, there is a real sense - to me at least - that moving through these would not make the least sense of progress on a larger scale.
Is the progress being stopped for some other reason, something that God is doing somewhere else in my life for some other reason? I am not sure that I would know that this is the case even if it is. I suspect this is the sort of thing that one would only realize years after the event looking back.
Perhaps this is simply a problem that cannot be resolved by my pondering it at length. What is so concerning about it is the fact that even though I may have a chance someday of understanding, I have to live through this sense of blank walls every day.
That, too, is a sense of no progress leading nowhere which is difficult to live with.
This is how I feel at the moment - that every direction I walk, every project that I pursue, that everything that I do is leads directly to high wall I cannot get around or over. What seems to be worse, these walls are moving in on me, constricting my ability to make progress.
It is the sense of doing the things you have identified as doing and finding none of them is going forward as you had desired; that the one thing that satisfies you the least has come to take up the most time, squeezing out the time to do anything else - and that this thing is also seemingly of such a nature that the more and more effort poured into it will not result in greater reward and progress but instead in no sense of progress at all.
There is almost a sense that I being bounded in by God, kept from moving forward in anything by His hand. Is it is sin in my life that is causing this stasis? Possibly - certainly it is easy enough for me to always find some sin in my life. If so, one should repent and move on (which I suppose for me is in and of itself something of a struggle). But even as I try to find those issues that are ingrained in my life, there is a real sense - to me at least - that moving through these would not make the least sense of progress on a larger scale.
Is the progress being stopped for some other reason, something that God is doing somewhere else in my life for some other reason? I am not sure that I would know that this is the case even if it is. I suspect this is the sort of thing that one would only realize years after the event looking back.
Perhaps this is simply a problem that cannot be resolved by my pondering it at length. What is so concerning about it is the fact that even though I may have a chance someday of understanding, I have to live through this sense of blank walls every day.
That, too, is a sense of no progress leading nowhere which is difficult to live with.
Tuesday, March 05, 2013
Struggling Again
I am going through one of my periodic struggles with accepting life as it is.
Fear Mor leaving has been a great struggle. Essentially I am now responsible for the work of two people. The schedules have not slowed down, you understand, just the the availability of personnel to the job.
The outcome? In order to make sure things continue on this means working later. No great surprise, I suppose - except that it means that once again the timeline of my life is going to get compressed. Potentially a great deal.
The critical stuff will get done of course - I'll still see my family and have time to eat and walk the dog and ensure I get the amount of sleep that I need. But the parts that make life savoury - the fun items, the things for me - are starting to recede to the background as they do during times like this.
I always have problems when things like this happen. Intellectually I understand that God is under no compulsion to provide me with a life that allows me to use my talents the way I see fit and enjoy, but the reality of the situation is painful when it smacks me in the face. This is what it is to be an adult: to do what needs to be done when it needs to be done and put off the rest.
But until when? That is the part that seems to leave me grasping in situations like these. And what is the reward from such situations? Merely maintaining what I have? That hardly seems to be any kind of meaningful reward for essentially surrendering parts of your life to a series of events which ultimately do not matter except as a vehicle of paying for your existence.
How to break out of this? Oh, I wish I knew. All I see before me is waves of paperwork and hours of review. Any incentive has been stripped away to the bare minimum of "Do it because".
Is this truly life?
Fear Mor leaving has been a great struggle. Essentially I am now responsible for the work of two people. The schedules have not slowed down, you understand, just the the availability of personnel to the job.
The outcome? In order to make sure things continue on this means working later. No great surprise, I suppose - except that it means that once again the timeline of my life is going to get compressed. Potentially a great deal.
The critical stuff will get done of course - I'll still see my family and have time to eat and walk the dog and ensure I get the amount of sleep that I need. But the parts that make life savoury - the fun items, the things for me - are starting to recede to the background as they do during times like this.
I always have problems when things like this happen. Intellectually I understand that God is under no compulsion to provide me with a life that allows me to use my talents the way I see fit and enjoy, but the reality of the situation is painful when it smacks me in the face. This is what it is to be an adult: to do what needs to be done when it needs to be done and put off the rest.
But until when? That is the part that seems to leave me grasping in situations like these. And what is the reward from such situations? Merely maintaining what I have? That hardly seems to be any kind of meaningful reward for essentially surrendering parts of your life to a series of events which ultimately do not matter except as a vehicle of paying for your existence.
How to break out of this? Oh, I wish I knew. All I see before me is waves of paperwork and hours of review. Any incentive has been stripped away to the bare minimum of "Do it because".
Is this truly life?
Monday, March 04, 2013
Why Write?
I am in the process of re-evaluating my writing.
Oh no, not the fact that I write. At this point I think that it is too firmly rooted in my pysche for me to ever walk backwards from doing it. It has become a part of my life - literally a part of my mornings which I design around to insure that I get to do it - and I can honestly say that I miss the days when I do not.
No, what I am re-evaluating is why and where and for what I am writing.
Why? Why do I write? Originally it was to become a great voice in writing on the Internet. Then it shifted to become a great voice writing for my industry, then for homesteading, then finally for success. In each and every one of those cases, things have not turned out as I intended. Instead, I have come to write mostly for myself and a small cadre of readers (most of whom I know) as a sort of mental and spiritual exercise.
Is that okay? Is that enough of a reason to do this? I think so - after all, if I alone benefit from the daily activity of writing it (much like journaling) becomes an activity of growth. And the off chance happens that I someone reading something is helped as well.
Where? Ah. I've got at least three blogs spead across the Internet now, all doing different things. Is this a spreading too thin of my energy? Does one of them make a difference more than the other two? Or in my desire to throw as many things against the wall as I can and hope something sticks have I overstepped my ability?
Because that falls into the what I am writing for. I can make an argument that I started writing in different places in the (apparently) vain hope that I would find the magic combination that would finally establish a career in writing: if I could not appeal to this audience I would appeal to another audience.
But the audiences have never come in the overwhelming amounts that my mind saw. The links from other sites never really appeared. Alas, the commercial offers also never seemed to find their way to my inbox along with the book offers I was so sure would show up.
So why am I writing?
The (unfortunate) reality is that at this juncture I am probably never going to make my way into the ubercompetitive quickly moving environment of top blogs or websites. My chances of magically being "discovered" are probably nil. I am one man, writing mostly about small subjects important to me.
But that doesn't change the original benefits I identified above. I grow through this process. Occasionally I help someone else. Perhaps that is enough.
The amount of blogs I write? Perhaps that is something that I need to seriously look at - not so much from a branding perspective as an effort and quality perspective. I am perceptive enough to realize that there are limits on my time, limits that in turn limit what I am going to be able to do well.
But stop writing altogether? I do not see that as something that I want or need to consider. It has become too much of my personality - because even with little exposure and in a quiet corner of the blogosphere, to write a blog means that one is a writer. And to write, in some way, is to change the world.
Oh no, not the fact that I write. At this point I think that it is too firmly rooted in my pysche for me to ever walk backwards from doing it. It has become a part of my life - literally a part of my mornings which I design around to insure that I get to do it - and I can honestly say that I miss the days when I do not.
No, what I am re-evaluating is why and where and for what I am writing.
Why? Why do I write? Originally it was to become a great voice in writing on the Internet. Then it shifted to become a great voice writing for my industry, then for homesteading, then finally for success. In each and every one of those cases, things have not turned out as I intended. Instead, I have come to write mostly for myself and a small cadre of readers (most of whom I know) as a sort of mental and spiritual exercise.
Is that okay? Is that enough of a reason to do this? I think so - after all, if I alone benefit from the daily activity of writing it (much like journaling) becomes an activity of growth. And the off chance happens that I someone reading something is helped as well.
Where? Ah. I've got at least three blogs spead across the Internet now, all doing different things. Is this a spreading too thin of my energy? Does one of them make a difference more than the other two? Or in my desire to throw as many things against the wall as I can and hope something sticks have I overstepped my ability?
Because that falls into the what I am writing for. I can make an argument that I started writing in different places in the (apparently) vain hope that I would find the magic combination that would finally establish a career in writing: if I could not appeal to this audience I would appeal to another audience.
But the audiences have never come in the overwhelming amounts that my mind saw. The links from other sites never really appeared. Alas, the commercial offers also never seemed to find their way to my inbox along with the book offers I was so sure would show up.
So why am I writing?
The (unfortunate) reality is that at this juncture I am probably never going to make my way into the ubercompetitive quickly moving environment of top blogs or websites. My chances of magically being "discovered" are probably nil. I am one man, writing mostly about small subjects important to me.
But that doesn't change the original benefits I identified above. I grow through this process. Occasionally I help someone else. Perhaps that is enough.
The amount of blogs I write? Perhaps that is something that I need to seriously look at - not so much from a branding perspective as an effort and quality perspective. I am perceptive enough to realize that there are limits on my time, limits that in turn limit what I am going to be able to do well.
But stop writing altogether? I do not see that as something that I want or need to consider. It has become too much of my personality - because even with little exposure and in a quiet corner of the blogosphere, to write a blog means that one is a writer. And to write, in some way, is to change the world.
Friday, March 01, 2013
Posting and Disliking
Wondering again about how active I am on a well known social site.
I had the experience this week of someone posting a seemingly snarky response to a (at least theoretically) inspirational quote. It wouldn't have struck me as odd but it is the third time that such a thing has happened in the last six months or so.
Reading the quote helps nothing - one feels kind of offended after one reads it and quite possibly angry (I was). But the initial response - fire back a response - is never the correct one; you look exactly like the person who posted the quote and the web has hardly demonstrated itself to be a forum for useful discussion. My initial response was simply to take a bit of a break from posting anything at all.
There are two ways that I could go. The first - more of an observation - is that this well known social site, while being useful for reconnecting friends and family, may have some of the problems that any reunion does: we think we are seeing and talking to the people that we knew years before when in fact the years have intervened. We change - but the patterns of relationship and our understanding of how people used to be may not have. It comes out when we interact - we either retreat to older forms of relating, essentially picking off where we left off in high school and ignoring the fact that 20 years have intervened, or we come to the jarring realization that our friends (and ourselves) only inhabit bodies that look like us; the person has changed.
The second way is a general questioning of this entire idea of social websites and indeed of putting one's self out there at all.
Have I enjoyed the well known social website? Yes. It has allowed me to connect with people whom I had not seen in many years and catch up. It has renewed some friendships in meaningful ways, which is always a good thing. And it has allowed me to share our lives with our family in real time.
But beyond the basic contact - why am I doing this?
The same question could said about any writing I do - this blog, for example. I have long surrendered the notion the that this blog was going to be a mechanism whereby I catapulted any writing career to something semi-self supporting. Certainly it serves a function as a sort of online journal for myself and does keep me writing, which are both useful things and enhance my life.
But does continuing to try to significantly engage through inspirational quotes on a well known social site serve the same purpose? I am not sure.
I have not decided what the final outcome will be - there are people who claim to get something out of what I find and for that I am grateful. I suppose the question is does that outweigh dealing with the reality that "friend" has come to have a significantly different connotation than it used to.
I had the experience this week of someone posting a seemingly snarky response to a (at least theoretically) inspirational quote. It wouldn't have struck me as odd but it is the third time that such a thing has happened in the last six months or so.
Reading the quote helps nothing - one feels kind of offended after one reads it and quite possibly angry (I was). But the initial response - fire back a response - is never the correct one; you look exactly like the person who posted the quote and the web has hardly demonstrated itself to be a forum for useful discussion. My initial response was simply to take a bit of a break from posting anything at all.
There are two ways that I could go. The first - more of an observation - is that this well known social site, while being useful for reconnecting friends and family, may have some of the problems that any reunion does: we think we are seeing and talking to the people that we knew years before when in fact the years have intervened. We change - but the patterns of relationship and our understanding of how people used to be may not have. It comes out when we interact - we either retreat to older forms of relating, essentially picking off where we left off in high school and ignoring the fact that 20 years have intervened, or we come to the jarring realization that our friends (and ourselves) only inhabit bodies that look like us; the person has changed.
The second way is a general questioning of this entire idea of social websites and indeed of putting one's self out there at all.
Have I enjoyed the well known social website? Yes. It has allowed me to connect with people whom I had not seen in many years and catch up. It has renewed some friendships in meaningful ways, which is always a good thing. And it has allowed me to share our lives with our family in real time.
But beyond the basic contact - why am I doing this?
The same question could said about any writing I do - this blog, for example. I have long surrendered the notion the that this blog was going to be a mechanism whereby I catapulted any writing career to something semi-self supporting. Certainly it serves a function as a sort of online journal for myself and does keep me writing, which are both useful things and enhance my life.
But does continuing to try to significantly engage through inspirational quotes on a well known social site serve the same purpose? I am not sure.
I have not decided what the final outcome will be - there are people who claim to get something out of what I find and for that I am grateful. I suppose the question is does that outweigh dealing with the reality that "friend" has come to have a significantly different connotation than it used to.
Thursday, February 28, 2013
Wednesday, February 27, 2013
Shelf Life
Does everything about our lives have a shelf life?
No, not the actual living part of it - that I get. And I even get that in some cases roles in our lives - like family and children, for example - have a sort of shelf life that may eventually change into something else. But for other things - interests, careers, even relationships - do they all have a shelf life, a "best by" date, a point beyond which they fail?
I ask this question in view of getting answer I didn't really want to get for somewhere between the 15th and 20th time in four years. It is the kind of thing that, in my industry, you are supposed to look at - a sort of feedback loop that theoretically allows you to make improvements and corrections to a system to make it better.
But in the example of shelf life, there is no coming back from moldy food. There is no correction you can make (well, possibly cutting off the mold and eating the rest, but that is hardly a recommended option) to bring it back. It is is really not good for anything except disposal.
Are our careers like that too? Our interests? Even our relationships? Do they all have shelf lives, expiration dates that somewhere appear on the cans of our existence that I somehow cannot see?
And what do you do with that? It is not like a store, where one simply goes in and purchases another loaf of bread or piece of cheese. It is something that it in many cases has taken years to get to a certain point and in some ways is irreplaceable - in at least time and energy, if not relationships.
Can one - is it even possible - to get a dating extension on any of these things, to find out from the manufacturer that they have tested it and have given it a longer date? And if so, who would one apply to for such information?
One can only hope, I suppose - rather than live with the vision of sitting in the pantry of one's life, looking at can after can coming up "Expired".
No, not the actual living part of it - that I get. And I even get that in some cases roles in our lives - like family and children, for example - have a sort of shelf life that may eventually change into something else. But for other things - interests, careers, even relationships - do they all have a shelf life, a "best by" date, a point beyond which they fail?
I ask this question in view of getting answer I didn't really want to get for somewhere between the 15th and 20th time in four years. It is the kind of thing that, in my industry, you are supposed to look at - a sort of feedback loop that theoretically allows you to make improvements and corrections to a system to make it better.
But in the example of shelf life, there is no coming back from moldy food. There is no correction you can make (well, possibly cutting off the mold and eating the rest, but that is hardly a recommended option) to bring it back. It is is really not good for anything except disposal.
Are our careers like that too? Our interests? Even our relationships? Do they all have shelf lives, expiration dates that somewhere appear on the cans of our existence that I somehow cannot see?
And what do you do with that? It is not like a store, where one simply goes in and purchases another loaf of bread or piece of cheese. It is something that it in many cases has taken years to get to a certain point and in some ways is irreplaceable - in at least time and energy, if not relationships.
Can one - is it even possible - to get a dating extension on any of these things, to find out from the manufacturer that they have tested it and have given it a longer date? And if so, who would one apply to for such information?
One can only hope, I suppose - rather than live with the vision of sitting in the pantry of one's life, looking at can after can coming up "Expired".
Tuesday, February 26, 2013
Monday, February 25, 2013
Interruptions
Do you ever have one of those weekends that is almost nothing like you plan it to be? You hope for a weekend of both rest and accomplishment, of letting the body rest even as the mind is brought to life by activities. Instead, what you find is a weekend in which you are busy running from place to place and task to task - none of them precisely what you were hoping for, of course - until you reach the end of Sunday and realize that another weekend has fled by and you have gotten so little accomplished.
It is terribly frustrating of course, because that was your time to do such things. The week will rapidly be consumed by the dreadnought known as "Work" with a few hours plugged in here and there to make things seem palatable. And the week, it always seems, precludes any forward progress on anything that you would like to be doing. The weekend will come again, of course - but it always seems to have another set of tasks that need to be accomplished, leaving one a bit farther behind than the previous week.
And this, we grumble, is life.
But perhaps it really is life - just not life as we picture it.
Our lives are too often built on the theory that they belong completely and totally to us. They are our possession: unearned by us, uncreated by us, they may appear to be gifts which are are to be spent however we will. To not spend them on ourselves - to have them consumed by the parts of life we consider as useless or wasteful - seems like the greatest waste of time.
But what if our lives are not about us? What if they are about the One who gave our lives to us, Who gave us 24 hours to spend each day? We believe too often that we should be the arbitrator of what constitutes a good use of our time. God says otherwise.
I have a series of hopes and dreams for my life, things I would like to do, goals I would like to accomplish. I was hit last night by the very real thought that I may accomplish few or none of these.
Am I okay with that? Can I deal with the fact that those things I consider important may never be accomplished by me? Or can accept the fact that there are possibly more important things that God wants me to accomplish, carefully hidden in the guise of ordinary tasks I would disdain and interruptions that turn me from tasks I would rather do?
Ultimately our lives are not graded by what we accomplished for ourselves but what we accomplished for God. And God is a good God - He gives us the opportunity to accomplish these things, sometimes pressing them into our lives - cleverly disguised as the things which we interpret as interruptions.
The things we often call life.
It is terribly frustrating of course, because that was your time to do such things. The week will rapidly be consumed by the dreadnought known as "Work" with a few hours plugged in here and there to make things seem palatable. And the week, it always seems, precludes any forward progress on anything that you would like to be doing. The weekend will come again, of course - but it always seems to have another set of tasks that need to be accomplished, leaving one a bit farther behind than the previous week.
And this, we grumble, is life.
But perhaps it really is life - just not life as we picture it.
Our lives are too often built on the theory that they belong completely and totally to us. They are our possession: unearned by us, uncreated by us, they may appear to be gifts which are are to be spent however we will. To not spend them on ourselves - to have them consumed by the parts of life we consider as useless or wasteful - seems like the greatest waste of time.
But what if our lives are not about us? What if they are about the One who gave our lives to us, Who gave us 24 hours to spend each day? We believe too often that we should be the arbitrator of what constitutes a good use of our time. God says otherwise.
I have a series of hopes and dreams for my life, things I would like to do, goals I would like to accomplish. I was hit last night by the very real thought that I may accomplish few or none of these.
Am I okay with that? Can I deal with the fact that those things I consider important may never be accomplished by me? Or can accept the fact that there are possibly more important things that God wants me to accomplish, carefully hidden in the guise of ordinary tasks I would disdain and interruptions that turn me from tasks I would rather do?
Ultimately our lives are not graded by what we accomplished for ourselves but what we accomplished for God. And God is a good God - He gives us the opportunity to accomplish these things, sometimes pressing them into our lives - cleverly disguised as the things which we interpret as interruptions.
The things we often call life.
Friday, February 22, 2013
Being Number 2
Life seems intent on reminding me that my place in it is as number 2.
Not the leader. Not the starring role. Not the one in charge - instead, I am reminded again that my role is second trumpet, supporting actor, someone pushing scenery around on a darkened stage.
Part of me simply thinks that I should have learned this lesson by now. I've had literally years of practice doing it and yet, every time this situation arises again I feel shocked and amazed that it has occurred again. It is as if my I consciously ignore what the circumstances are telling me and look to some vision only I can see about the way things ought to be.
I do get jerked back regularly though - every time the assignments come down as assignments, every time suggestions are pushed aside and I am "told" what I need to do and think, every time something I thought I was talented in is revealed to be not extraordinary (as if may have been in my mind) but simply ordinary - and if ordinary, easily replaceable or perhaps not even necessary.
Maybe the fault is my own. Maybe I confuse leadership with visibility. Sure, it is possible to be a leader without visibility - but if this is an acceptable situation, why do so many leaders insist on the attention as well as the acknowledgement?
Because ultimately being number 2 is about doing the work that needs to be done in a way that someone else gets the credit for it.
Maybe that is the source of my - I don't even know what to call it: anger? despair? depression? - this realization that the expectation by the ones leading is that you will do the work quietly and competently and then stand aside as the credit flows to them. And that somehow, this is an acceptable situation for everyone concerned: for them receiving such credit as the normal course of events, for number 2 to quietly return to the shadows and work in nameless recognition.
I keep trying to break out of this mold, yet constantly seem to be thrust back into it. Is it possible that life is trying to tell me something?
Not the leader. Not the starring role. Not the one in charge - instead, I am reminded again that my role is second trumpet, supporting actor, someone pushing scenery around on a darkened stage.
Part of me simply thinks that I should have learned this lesson by now. I've had literally years of practice doing it and yet, every time this situation arises again I feel shocked and amazed that it has occurred again. It is as if my I consciously ignore what the circumstances are telling me and look to some vision only I can see about the way things ought to be.
I do get jerked back regularly though - every time the assignments come down as assignments, every time suggestions are pushed aside and I am "told" what I need to do and think, every time something I thought I was talented in is revealed to be not extraordinary (as if may have been in my mind) but simply ordinary - and if ordinary, easily replaceable or perhaps not even necessary.
Maybe the fault is my own. Maybe I confuse leadership with visibility. Sure, it is possible to be a leader without visibility - but if this is an acceptable situation, why do so many leaders insist on the attention as well as the acknowledgement?
Because ultimately being number 2 is about doing the work that needs to be done in a way that someone else gets the credit for it.
Maybe that is the source of my - I don't even know what to call it: anger? despair? depression? - this realization that the expectation by the ones leading is that you will do the work quietly and competently and then stand aside as the credit flows to them. And that somehow, this is an acceptable situation for everyone concerned: for them receiving such credit as the normal course of events, for number 2 to quietly return to the shadows and work in nameless recognition.
I keep trying to break out of this mold, yet constantly seem to be thrust back into it. Is it possible that life is trying to tell me something?
Thursday, February 21, 2013
Two Work Cultures
There are two types of work cultures.
One is the culture of blame. In this culture, the primary push is to avoid getting blamed for failure or not accomplishing goals. The work environment is one where everyone is keenly aware of what their particular task is, when they did it, and precisely how long the next person in the chain has had it. Meetings in this culture usually devolve into discussions of what has not been done, who has not done it, and how long it has remained undone.
The other is culture of getting things done. In this culture, the primary push is to solve problems. Individuals within each function may have tasks that are contributing to the whole, and may even find themselves in the position of not having accomplished certain things - but on the whole there is not a sense of any one person being singled out. Blame is not emphasized (although responsibility may be pointed out for significant outstanding tasks); instead, the point of the work is to move things to completion and conclusion.
One of these cultures emphasizes the end result. The other culture emphasizes not getting blamed and accomplishing your own tasks, even if the end result is not achieved.
The overall effect? The first culture creates an atmosphere of back watching and documentation, where people spend as much time covering themselves as they do doing the work. The other culture creates an atmosphere where people are willing to admit mistakes more freely, work collaboratively, and ultimately succeed together.
Which culture would you want to work in?
One is the culture of blame. In this culture, the primary push is to avoid getting blamed for failure or not accomplishing goals. The work environment is one where everyone is keenly aware of what their particular task is, when they did it, and precisely how long the next person in the chain has had it. Meetings in this culture usually devolve into discussions of what has not been done, who has not done it, and how long it has remained undone.
The other is culture of getting things done. In this culture, the primary push is to solve problems. Individuals within each function may have tasks that are contributing to the whole, and may even find themselves in the position of not having accomplished certain things - but on the whole there is not a sense of any one person being singled out. Blame is not emphasized (although responsibility may be pointed out for significant outstanding tasks); instead, the point of the work is to move things to completion and conclusion.
One of these cultures emphasizes the end result. The other culture emphasizes not getting blamed and accomplishing your own tasks, even if the end result is not achieved.
The overall effect? The first culture creates an atmosphere of back watching and documentation, where people spend as much time covering themselves as they do doing the work. The other culture creates an atmosphere where people are willing to admit mistakes more freely, work collaboratively, and ultimately succeed together.
Which culture would you want to work in?
Wednesday, February 20, 2013
Unexpected Free Time
Yesterday evening something happened which has not happened in a very long time: I had free time and nothing to fill it with.
It crept up on me unaware. I looked up after dinner and washing dishes and it was only 7:00 PM. I started going through my list of things I usually do. Harp? I had done it already. Iaido? I had class that night. Weight Training? Done yesterday. Suddenly I found myself at a loose end.
Which struck me as ridiculous. Here I am, someone who constantly has things I would like to be working on (or in the case of work, have to be working on), without an immediate thing at hand to do and no idea what I should be doing. Had it really been so long since I had the concept of free time thrust into my hand?
What did I do? I finally read, something which I ordinarily love to do - but not the first thing that jumped to my mind. Even when I was reading, I had this constant sense of nagging at the back of my mind, as if there was something else - some undefined quite important thing - that I should be doing instead of what I was doing.
The whole incident lasted only an hour, but the sense of it followed me to class, back home, and into the bed at night. Perhaps I am wrong, but the fact that free time comes as a surprise and I have to struggle to fill it with something I enjoy tells me - perhaps - that there is perhaps not enough extra time built into the fabric of my life. After all, activities we do should be something that we enjoy, not chores which become burdensome tasks in their own right. And free time should not be seen as an unexpected guest with nowhere to sit but as an expected friend with a comfortable chair and a book waiting for it.
Because free time, like guests, will eventually find its way to other doors if not welcomed at our own.
It crept up on me unaware. I looked up after dinner and washing dishes and it was only 7:00 PM. I started going through my list of things I usually do. Harp? I had done it already. Iaido? I had class that night. Weight Training? Done yesterday. Suddenly I found myself at a loose end.
Which struck me as ridiculous. Here I am, someone who constantly has things I would like to be working on (or in the case of work, have to be working on), without an immediate thing at hand to do and no idea what I should be doing. Had it really been so long since I had the concept of free time thrust into my hand?
What did I do? I finally read, something which I ordinarily love to do - but not the first thing that jumped to my mind. Even when I was reading, I had this constant sense of nagging at the back of my mind, as if there was something else - some undefined quite important thing - that I should be doing instead of what I was doing.
The whole incident lasted only an hour, but the sense of it followed me to class, back home, and into the bed at night. Perhaps I am wrong, but the fact that free time comes as a surprise and I have to struggle to fill it with something I enjoy tells me - perhaps - that there is perhaps not enough extra time built into the fabric of my life. After all, activities we do should be something that we enjoy, not chores which become burdensome tasks in their own right. And free time should not be seen as an unexpected guest with nowhere to sit but as an expected friend with a comfortable chair and a book waiting for it.
Because free time, like guests, will eventually find its way to other doors if not welcomed at our own.
Tuesday, February 19, 2013
Monday, February 18, 2013
Not Feeling It
I'm not really feeling it this morning.
To be fair, I was not really feeling it all day on Sunday either. It was just a lethargy, a sense that I didn't really want to do anything - and whatever I did try to do went nowhere. No interest. No energy. No effort. Just a sense of of "Leave me alone".
There was just this vast sense of things not making a difference no matter how much I try. No matter what goals I set, no matter what I try to do, most of my life seems to be remarkably stable - or staid, depending on how you want to look at it.
And now Monday has come.
I don't quite understand this feeling. It is not so much a feeling of depression as it is of having no energy to speak of at all - or at least, energy for action. I don't feel unable to move and make efforts, I feel uninterested in moving and making efforts.
Why? A very good question indeed, one I wish I had a better answer to. In the back of my head is the suggestive thought that no matter what I try to do, it always seems to lead me back to about the same place. Or perhaps it is processing the thought (yet again) that choices I made years ago have finally proven to lock me into a place where I did not anticipate being and now that I am here, leave me unable to attempt to move out from under them.
I wish I knew the cause, because existing without a level of interest in anything is as painful as it is boring.
To be fair, I was not really feeling it all day on Sunday either. It was just a lethargy, a sense that I didn't really want to do anything - and whatever I did try to do went nowhere. No interest. No energy. No effort. Just a sense of of "Leave me alone".
There was just this vast sense of things not making a difference no matter how much I try. No matter what goals I set, no matter what I try to do, most of my life seems to be remarkably stable - or staid, depending on how you want to look at it.
And now Monday has come.
I don't quite understand this feeling. It is not so much a feeling of depression as it is of having no energy to speak of at all - or at least, energy for action. I don't feel unable to move and make efforts, I feel uninterested in moving and making efforts.
Why? A very good question indeed, one I wish I had a better answer to. In the back of my head is the suggestive thought that no matter what I try to do, it always seems to lead me back to about the same place. Or perhaps it is processing the thought (yet again) that choices I made years ago have finally proven to lock me into a place where I did not anticipate being and now that I am here, leave me unable to attempt to move out from under them.
I wish I knew the cause, because existing without a level of interest in anything is as painful as it is boring.
Friday, February 15, 2013
Past and Present
Do do-overs exists?
I am not talking about the ordinary kind of course, the "Hey I wrote that wrong, let me correct it" or "I forgot milk at the store - let me run back and get it.". No, I am thinking of the "Peggy Sue Got Married" kind, the big step back in time or space to have the chance to re-cast a significant decision.
I ask not so much from the need to step back and retake a particular decision (although is there not a decision we would all like to remake?) so much as reconsideration of the purpose of wisdom in our life and how we use it going forward. It is an interesting conundrum: we only gain experience as we move through life, but it is always most easily applied looking behind us to what has been. It is far more difficult to apply what we have learned to what is coming up.
That is the great part of movies that take someone back. They have the benefit of having lived through the impact of their decisions - both the good and the bad elements - and can carefully weigh whether a different course would be worth it. They can apply what they have already learned to the decision that they could make again and theoretically evaluate if a different one would have been better.
It seldom is of course, at least in the movies, and the character always determines that the decision they made was the correct one even with all of the bumps in the road that may have occurred since them. Is it fear of the unknown of the new decision? Is it a realization that every decision results in good and bad things in our lives? Or is it that they are simply using the wisdom that they gained to inform their decision to live with the choices that they have made?
There are, of course, no time-space continuum jumps that allow us to go back and remake the decisions of our lives - yet interestingly, there are countless opportunities which cleverly hide themselves as new incidents or decisions to be made but are in fact simply versions of the choices and incidents we have faced in our past. These, then, are the true "do-over" situations that occur to us every day: not that we go back in time to remake a decision, but that we have the opportunity to make a decision using the wisdom that we have gained.
The question is, will we apply what we have learned in the here and now based on the past? Or will we continue to think longingly of the day our lives changed because of a decision, never realizing that the past is present today?
I am not talking about the ordinary kind of course, the "Hey I wrote that wrong, let me correct it" or "I forgot milk at the store - let me run back and get it.". No, I am thinking of the "Peggy Sue Got Married" kind, the big step back in time or space to have the chance to re-cast a significant decision.
I ask not so much from the need to step back and retake a particular decision (although is there not a decision we would all like to remake?) so much as reconsideration of the purpose of wisdom in our life and how we use it going forward. It is an interesting conundrum: we only gain experience as we move through life, but it is always most easily applied looking behind us to what has been. It is far more difficult to apply what we have learned to what is coming up.
That is the great part of movies that take someone back. They have the benefit of having lived through the impact of their decisions - both the good and the bad elements - and can carefully weigh whether a different course would be worth it. They can apply what they have already learned to the decision that they could make again and theoretically evaluate if a different one would have been better.
It seldom is of course, at least in the movies, and the character always determines that the decision they made was the correct one even with all of the bumps in the road that may have occurred since them. Is it fear of the unknown of the new decision? Is it a realization that every decision results in good and bad things in our lives? Or is it that they are simply using the wisdom that they gained to inform their decision to live with the choices that they have made?
There are, of course, no time-space continuum jumps that allow us to go back and remake the decisions of our lives - yet interestingly, there are countless opportunities which cleverly hide themselves as new incidents or decisions to be made but are in fact simply versions of the choices and incidents we have faced in our past. These, then, are the true "do-over" situations that occur to us every day: not that we go back in time to remake a decision, but that we have the opportunity to make a decision using the wisdom that we have gained.
The question is, will we apply what we have learned in the here and now based on the past? Or will we continue to think longingly of the day our lives changed because of a decision, never realizing that the past is present today?
Thursday, February 14, 2013
Carrying Motivation
Motivation can be a hard thing to capture at times, especially when the motivation you are trying to capture is to break out of a current chain which you care little for.
You want too, of course and you should have every reason: the road that led to this point is has reached a wall that simply cannot be crossed and other roads seem to branch off from this point. And to say on this current course of action is to ensure that nothing changes at all and nothing will change at all, that you will be exactly in the same condition you are, the condition you loathe so much.
And yet you sit there, looking at the wall, unable to turn.
Why? Because you suddenly realize that every road that leads from this wall is really just leading to the same sort of wall somewhere else. The scenery may change but the end result at least seems to be the same as the result you are facing. And thus motivation slips between your fingers as you consider the fact that in changing, you are likely not to change anything at all.
Which is a bit ridiculous, of course. Not all change is bad, even if it lies in merely shifting from one thing to another in the same palette. We cannot see all things that will happen in the future even though parts of it look the same as they current existence we have. The thing that looks so similar to that which currently know may in fact be the gateway into something we totally cannot imagine at this point.
It is foolish not to at least try these other roads - but oh, the sinking sense of turning to face a road on which the pavement and lines appear so much like road that we are on. In a sense it almost becomes an act of faith, a belief that things can change even when they seem that they cannot.
Which makes for an important lesson: motivation cannot always be counted on to be the initiator of an action. Sometimes we must carry it on our backs until, energized by progress, it is able to start walking on its own.
You want too, of course and you should have every reason: the road that led to this point is has reached a wall that simply cannot be crossed and other roads seem to branch off from this point. And to say on this current course of action is to ensure that nothing changes at all and nothing will change at all, that you will be exactly in the same condition you are, the condition you loathe so much.
And yet you sit there, looking at the wall, unable to turn.
Why? Because you suddenly realize that every road that leads from this wall is really just leading to the same sort of wall somewhere else. The scenery may change but the end result at least seems to be the same as the result you are facing. And thus motivation slips between your fingers as you consider the fact that in changing, you are likely not to change anything at all.
Which is a bit ridiculous, of course. Not all change is bad, even if it lies in merely shifting from one thing to another in the same palette. We cannot see all things that will happen in the future even though parts of it look the same as they current existence we have. The thing that looks so similar to that which currently know may in fact be the gateway into something we totally cannot imagine at this point.
It is foolish not to at least try these other roads - but oh, the sinking sense of turning to face a road on which the pavement and lines appear so much like road that we are on. In a sense it almost becomes an act of faith, a belief that things can change even when they seem that they cannot.
Which makes for an important lesson: motivation cannot always be counted on to be the initiator of an action. Sometimes we must carry it on our backs until, energized by progress, it is able to start walking on its own.
Wednesday, February 13, 2013
Tuesday, February 12, 2013
A Commitment to Excellence, A Commitment to More
A commitment to doing more is becoming more and more difficult for many.
It concerns me, because I work in an industry in which the standards are always increasing, not decreasing - yet so often the response is "Why do we have to do that? It is more work." The problem is, I see that becoming more and more of an issue not just within the work environment but outside of it as well, where anything which does not enterain falls into the category of "boring".
I know - potentially I sound like a grumpy oldster, reminiscing on those days of yore when we pounded rocks to make our own sand. But I am also an observer of human nature, and think I have lived long enough (and certainly read enough) that I can begin to make some consclusions about cause and effect.
To succeed in anything is to do more. It is to consciously move beyond the minimum of effort to reach a higher level. The hackneyed phrase "There is no shortcut to excellence" is true. It takes more than just what we are willing to do - it takes what we must do.
I'm sure that many understand this in the context of things they like to do. Where they would disagree with me in the things they have to do: the unpleasant tasks, the boring tasks, the tasks that we "must" do. To these sorts of tasks, the thought too often is that "minimal is enough". The fact that the thought is often echoed consciously or unconsciously by those above them who are more concerned with results rather than doing things correctly and completely only strengthens this opinion.
But where does this thought pattern lead, this thought of not doing more simply because we don't like it or it bores us? We hate to consider that those who serve us would also have such an opinion - after all, our food should be fully cooked, our paint preparation fully mixed, our car to be completely fixed instead of partially fixed. In every way that impacts our lives, we believe that we should be the focus of an effort of 100% completeness, every time - even if it takes doing more.
But if that is our expectation of others, why is that not the expectation of ourselves?
The reality that history and human experience demonstrates to us is this: given long enough, a lack of doing more in even the most trivial of things becomes a habit. Habits become lifestyles. Lifestyles become the societal norm. But society is a complex mechanism involving thousands, perhaps even millions of smoothly working parts. If enough of those parts become broken - if the individual wheels of effort are removed from their axles because it is too much effort to do them - then eventually the machine will break down - and the society colllapse.
Overstating the case? Possibly. But ask yourself this: if the effort I sink into my most boring task is the same amount of effort that my mechanic sank in to fixing my brakes, would I drive my car?
Excellence is something that springs from a sincere life of effort - sine cera, without wax to hide the cracks in our plateware but as a whole which is complete and thorough. We cannot pretend to separate effort in some parts of our lives from a lack of effort in other parts of our lives and maintain that we seek to live a life of excellence.
It concerns me, because I work in an industry in which the standards are always increasing, not decreasing - yet so often the response is "Why do we have to do that? It is more work." The problem is, I see that becoming more and more of an issue not just within the work environment but outside of it as well, where anything which does not enterain falls into the category of "boring".
I know - potentially I sound like a grumpy oldster, reminiscing on those days of yore when we pounded rocks to make our own sand. But I am also an observer of human nature, and think I have lived long enough (and certainly read enough) that I can begin to make some consclusions about cause and effect.
To succeed in anything is to do more. It is to consciously move beyond the minimum of effort to reach a higher level. The hackneyed phrase "There is no shortcut to excellence" is true. It takes more than just what we are willing to do - it takes what we must do.
I'm sure that many understand this in the context of things they like to do. Where they would disagree with me in the things they have to do: the unpleasant tasks, the boring tasks, the tasks that we "must" do. To these sorts of tasks, the thought too often is that "minimal is enough". The fact that the thought is often echoed consciously or unconsciously by those above them who are more concerned with results rather than doing things correctly and completely only strengthens this opinion.
But where does this thought pattern lead, this thought of not doing more simply because we don't like it or it bores us? We hate to consider that those who serve us would also have such an opinion - after all, our food should be fully cooked, our paint preparation fully mixed, our car to be completely fixed instead of partially fixed. In every way that impacts our lives, we believe that we should be the focus of an effort of 100% completeness, every time - even if it takes doing more.
But if that is our expectation of others, why is that not the expectation of ourselves?
The reality that history and human experience demonstrates to us is this: given long enough, a lack of doing more in even the most trivial of things becomes a habit. Habits become lifestyles. Lifestyles become the societal norm. But society is a complex mechanism involving thousands, perhaps even millions of smoothly working parts. If enough of those parts become broken - if the individual wheels of effort are removed from their axles because it is too much effort to do them - then eventually the machine will break down - and the society colllapse.
Overstating the case? Possibly. But ask yourself this: if the effort I sink into my most boring task is the same amount of effort that my mechanic sank in to fixing my brakes, would I drive my car?
Excellence is something that springs from a sincere life of effort - sine cera, without wax to hide the cracks in our plateware but as a whole which is complete and thorough. We cannot pretend to separate effort in some parts of our lives from a lack of effort in other parts of our lives and maintain that we seek to live a life of excellence.
Monday, February 11, 2013
Re-Writing
I realized yesterday that I have made a fatal error in my writing: I let myself become defined by what I was willing to do rather than what I needed to do.
In a great many things I am self taught. This has the advantage of 1) being able to understand how to pick up something and begin a course of study and 2) being able to learn something outside of the "normal" system of instruction. The disadvantage, of course, is that one tends to feel that one may be missing specific or useful elements.
And so one tries to compensate. One writes, for example, but one has never had any formal training in creative writing. The solution? Buy a book of exercises and start doing those in hopes that additional improvements will present themselves. Unfortunately, the problem with this theory is that exercises are never quite as exciting as writing - and so, one comes to define one's writing by what exercise one has completed. Find a book with enough exercises to deflate the soul, and one stops writing very much at all.
Which is silly. This is a paradigm that I really need to break away from. In this era of multiple alternate learning techniques and technologies, I am still plodding away with something that does not seem to be working all that well.
What is the best way to improve writing? Write. Any published author would tell you that. The important thing is to write - regularly, consistently - even if it does not result in the completion of exercises or a book. By doing, we learn - not necessarily by performing exercises.
And so I have corrected this fatal mistake. I have gone back to the model that did work for me via Nanowrimo: a set number of words for a set period of time. I'm not quite up to the level of November, of course- I'm not seeking to prove I can write a book in a month (I've done that already). What I am seeking to do is to give myself a vehicle whereby I can insure that I write frequently and consistently.
Exercises do not determine results. Results determine results - and reward.
Write on, Friends.
Friday, February 08, 2013
Specialist or Generalist?
Does one do one thing well, or many things reasonably?
This is the puzzle to which I keep coming back: is focus on one thing the path to success or a more generalized knowledge of many things?
Specialists are useful, of course, and well rewarded. They have keen insights into the nature of whatever it is they are specialists of. They are able in many cases to command high salaries. The best of them never go without a position.
But my restraint in not wholeheartedly being a fan is that specialization is a fine thing as long as your speciality is in demand. When it falls by the wayside, or even when it becomes less important than it was, you find yourself in the position of having too many crocodiles in a rapidly drying pool. Spend time around a dying industry and you will discover precisely how polite even the most educated can be when the focus of their years of experience and expertise is disappearing.
Generalists are not nearly as well rewarded as a rule. But they are useful: the ability to pull from a vast store of knowledge can be a great thing for problem solving. And perhaps they don't know as much about one thing, but they do know something about a great many things. This makes them more flexible.
Specialists and generalists both have their place, of course: without specialists we would not have the advances in technology and medicine that we have; without generalists much of the underlying work to make these advances possible would not be performed. Both types are necessary to keep the ecosystem of society moving forward.
Which am I? I'm generalist. I'm just too interested in too many things (most of which will never be a direct career choice, of course: the roles of harpists and swordsmen are fairly limited in our current society) to become an expert in one. There are just too many interesting things in life to specialize: even when I am reading, I inevitably find more that I could learn about. I need to become better, of course: if one wants to do something well, one must acquire some level of expertise in something.
But some level is not to the exclusion of everything else. I may (as I do) have to learn more about my career field to move along in it; that will never replace the need (and want) to learn about cheese and cattle and Japanese history and why bees do what they do.
Because you never know when the battle of Ichi-no-tani will inform your day to day life.
This is the puzzle to which I keep coming back: is focus on one thing the path to success or a more generalized knowledge of many things?
Specialists are useful, of course, and well rewarded. They have keen insights into the nature of whatever it is they are specialists of. They are able in many cases to command high salaries. The best of them never go without a position.
But my restraint in not wholeheartedly being a fan is that specialization is a fine thing as long as your speciality is in demand. When it falls by the wayside, or even when it becomes less important than it was, you find yourself in the position of having too many crocodiles in a rapidly drying pool. Spend time around a dying industry and you will discover precisely how polite even the most educated can be when the focus of their years of experience and expertise is disappearing.
Generalists are not nearly as well rewarded as a rule. But they are useful: the ability to pull from a vast store of knowledge can be a great thing for problem solving. And perhaps they don't know as much about one thing, but they do know something about a great many things. This makes them more flexible.
Specialists and generalists both have their place, of course: without specialists we would not have the advances in technology and medicine that we have; without generalists much of the underlying work to make these advances possible would not be performed. Both types are necessary to keep the ecosystem of society moving forward.
Which am I? I'm generalist. I'm just too interested in too many things (most of which will never be a direct career choice, of course: the roles of harpists and swordsmen are fairly limited in our current society) to become an expert in one. There are just too many interesting things in life to specialize: even when I am reading, I inevitably find more that I could learn about. I need to become better, of course: if one wants to do something well, one must acquire some level of expertise in something.
But some level is not to the exclusion of everything else. I may (as I do) have to learn more about my career field to move along in it; that will never replace the need (and want) to learn about cheese and cattle and Japanese history and why bees do what they do.
Because you never know when the battle of Ichi-no-tani will inform your day to day life.
Thursday, February 07, 2013
Question Without Answer
Why am I doing all this?
I ask myself as I watch my schedule morph from day to day until I find the bulk of my time and energy is taken up by work - not just longer hours and more to do, but more time that it lives on my brain. With the hours, of course, comes either less sleep or earlier bedtime, which cuts into doing the things I really do enjoy doing. Before I know it, I am suddenly in the thrall of that which must be done with a sprinkling on top of that which I might like to do.
Why am I doing all this?
It is certainly not for any sense of getting ahead - that door has pretty much effectively closed at this point. Nor is it from some glorified sense of "doing good" - I've been doing what I am doing long enough to know the limitations of that area. Out of fear? Possibly - fear of being singled out as ineffective, lazy, a non-performer - but even then that doesn't seem explain the larger sense of why I push myself harder and harder at something which I know in my heart of heart makes no difference.
Why am I doing all this?
There are no "good solider" awards for life that I am aware of. Effort alone is no guarantee of any kind of reward - and I have been doing my line of work long enough to know that the lights can go off with very little notice indeed.
It is just in my heart of hearts I cannot believe that collecting data and writing documents for things that will not matter in five years is hardly living life to the fullest.
Why am I really doing all this?
I ask myself as I watch my schedule morph from day to day until I find the bulk of my time and energy is taken up by work - not just longer hours and more to do, but more time that it lives on my brain. With the hours, of course, comes either less sleep or earlier bedtime, which cuts into doing the things I really do enjoy doing. Before I know it, I am suddenly in the thrall of that which must be done with a sprinkling on top of that which I might like to do.
Why am I doing all this?
It is certainly not for any sense of getting ahead - that door has pretty much effectively closed at this point. Nor is it from some glorified sense of "doing good" - I've been doing what I am doing long enough to know the limitations of that area. Out of fear? Possibly - fear of being singled out as ineffective, lazy, a non-performer - but even then that doesn't seem explain the larger sense of why I push myself harder and harder at something which I know in my heart of heart makes no difference.
Why am I doing all this?
There are no "good solider" awards for life that I am aware of. Effort alone is no guarantee of any kind of reward - and I have been doing my line of work long enough to know that the lights can go off with very little notice indeed.
It is just in my heart of hearts I cannot believe that collecting data and writing documents for things that will not matter in five years is hardly living life to the fullest.
Why am I really doing all this?
Wednesday, February 06, 2013
Tuesday, February 05, 2013
Servant
I wrestled last night with the concept of being a servant.
A servant. Second violin. Someone who quietly works in the background, doing what needs to be done without fanfare. A very difficult concept for me - not the working quietly in the background of course - 15 years in my job field have prepared me for that - but the fact that this very well may be what there is.
There is - was? - a point at which I really kept hoping that I was leader material, that I would be a leader. To set the tone, to be in front, to boldly move into areas with others following. And to be recognized as such.
But the tone of my life - if I'm honest about it - is not that at all. Whether if by seemingly taking myself out or being silently removed by God, those positions that I had thought I would do or was fit to do have turned into doors which quietly, peacefully were closed in my face.
Ah, says the world at large. That's okay - the world needs doers. We need a silent army of people to do the very important minutiae that needs to be accomplished. It's not as if everyone can be a leader - but everyone can be a servant.
Which is fine, I suppose. It's not as if my attempts at leadership have been that successful up to this point - and people are always ready for more help.
But I guess the thing that unsettles me as I see those horizons darken is simply the fact that a servant is never recognized. The work is expected to be accomplished and more often than not scarcely acknowledged when it is. To be a servant seems to be an acceptance of the fact that one will not lead - and by not leading, one comes to accept that the act of accomplishing a task is more than likely all the acknowledgement that will come.
To accept that fact that most of what one does will be unrecognized may be facing the truth as it comes, but it is hardly the sort of fact that makes the truth comforting.
A servant. Second violin. Someone who quietly works in the background, doing what needs to be done without fanfare. A very difficult concept for me - not the working quietly in the background of course - 15 years in my job field have prepared me for that - but the fact that this very well may be what there is.
There is - was? - a point at which I really kept hoping that I was leader material, that I would be a leader. To set the tone, to be in front, to boldly move into areas with others following. And to be recognized as such.
But the tone of my life - if I'm honest about it - is not that at all. Whether if by seemingly taking myself out or being silently removed by God, those positions that I had thought I would do or was fit to do have turned into doors which quietly, peacefully were closed in my face.
Ah, says the world at large. That's okay - the world needs doers. We need a silent army of people to do the very important minutiae that needs to be accomplished. It's not as if everyone can be a leader - but everyone can be a servant.
Which is fine, I suppose. It's not as if my attempts at leadership have been that successful up to this point - and people are always ready for more help.
But I guess the thing that unsettles me as I see those horizons darken is simply the fact that a servant is never recognized. The work is expected to be accomplished and more often than not scarcely acknowledged when it is. To be a servant seems to be an acceptance of the fact that one will not lead - and by not leading, one comes to accept that the act of accomplishing a task is more than likely all the acknowledgement that will come.
To accept that fact that most of what one does will be unrecognized may be facing the truth as it comes, but it is hardly the sort of fact that makes the truth comforting.
Monday, February 04, 2013
Non-resolution
There is nothing worse that being consumed by a problem that you cannot resolve.
This is what ended up consuming me last week, turning all of my attention inward, ensuring that I was essentially unable to work on anything else. By the time Friday rolled around I was mentally and physically exhausted, wrapped up in a battle that I was not fighting with the problem but within myself - a battle that I simply cannot win.
It confused me a bit when I finally was able to sit and look at it relatively rationally on Sunday. After all, how could something that I thought I could impact end up being such a dead end, leaving me exhausted (and incredibly upset)? One is supposed to take action on one's problems; what happens if by taking action it simply means you do nothing at all?
The same story awaits me this week as it did last week. The problem is still there and it still won't go away. What will I do? Will I seek to attempt to manage it via my emotions and energy and become the same person that I was last week?
No. That simply won't do.
Instead - at least for this problem - it is time to finally acknowledge the fact that there is simply nothing to be done about it in my power. All I will be able to do go through my day head down, eyes on my tasks, setting emotion aside until I reach the end of my day, when I can begin to spend time and energy on that which is important.
That which we cannot change, we must endure.
This is what ended up consuming me last week, turning all of my attention inward, ensuring that I was essentially unable to work on anything else. By the time Friday rolled around I was mentally and physically exhausted, wrapped up in a battle that I was not fighting with the problem but within myself - a battle that I simply cannot win.
It confused me a bit when I finally was able to sit and look at it relatively rationally on Sunday. After all, how could something that I thought I could impact end up being such a dead end, leaving me exhausted (and incredibly upset)? One is supposed to take action on one's problems; what happens if by taking action it simply means you do nothing at all?
The same story awaits me this week as it did last week. The problem is still there and it still won't go away. What will I do? Will I seek to attempt to manage it via my emotions and energy and become the same person that I was last week?
No. That simply won't do.
Instead - at least for this problem - it is time to finally acknowledge the fact that there is simply nothing to be done about it in my power. All I will be able to do go through my day head down, eyes on my tasks, setting emotion aside until I reach the end of my day, when I can begin to spend time and energy on that which is important.
That which we cannot change, we must endure.
Friday, February 01, 2013
Thursday, January 31, 2013
Wall
There are days
where it simply doesn't feel
as if I can do anything right.
The day where,
after working for hours on something,
you realize you've really made
no progress at all.
There is nothing as depressing
as such a day:
you spend the rest of the evening in shock,
reviewing everything you did
and seeing it turn to ash.
And then, sighing,
you get up to start the day again.
Is it simply that you have missed something
that was there all along,
or that you are so mired in today
you cannot see tomorrow?
where it simply doesn't feel
as if I can do anything right.
The day where,
after working for hours on something,
you realize you've really made
no progress at all.
There is nothing as depressing
as such a day:
you spend the rest of the evening in shock,
reviewing everything you did
and seeing it turn to ash.
And then, sighing,
you get up to start the day again.
Is it simply that you have missed something
that was there all along,
or that you are so mired in today
you cannot see tomorrow?
Wednesday, January 30, 2013
Crossroads of Skill and Time
I am coming to find myself at a crossroads.
I keep looking for the ability to succeed in areas that I know and am comfortable; what I am finding is those areas (for the most part) are simply crowding me out.
The Ravishing Mrs. TB said it best to a friend: "It's not as if he doesn't have things he likes to do; it's just that he can't get paid for them." True enough, I suppose - and it tracks with my thinking that more and more, success is truly achieved when you are doing what you want to be doing - and doing it well.
Can people succeed at doing what they don't like doing? Of course they can - people do it every day. But what I suspect - at least what is true in my own life - is that succeeding in something you don't really care for is like binding a heavy stone to your back and walking up a steep mountain. You can make it of course, but you will be excessively exhausted when you do and probably not have enjoyed the journey.
Effort equals skill and skill leads to success. But effort takes time and time to succeed - time to practice, time to learn - and it only comes freely when we find something we are willing to spend the time in. When we find something that we enjoy.
I write "looking to succeed in areas I know that I am comfortable" because in the last few weeks it has become apparent that in some of those areas, I am simply not going to move forward. I can expend additional effort in them but the chance that it will result in increased reward is slim to none.
And thus, I find myself at the crossroads.
I have (in the back of my head) occasional visions of what I could and would if I were succeeding in what I truly enjoyed. They are sometimes wild to be sure and off the beaten path (although, I suppose, not off the path for anyone who knows me), but they are the sorts of things that putting effort into is no difficulty at all but rather a joy. The sort of things that one springs out of bed to accomplish in the morning instead of dragging one's self out with a shudder.
The crossroads is coming. How do I turn?
I keep looking for the ability to succeed in areas that I know and am comfortable; what I am finding is those areas (for the most part) are simply crowding me out.
The Ravishing Mrs. TB said it best to a friend: "It's not as if he doesn't have things he likes to do; it's just that he can't get paid for them." True enough, I suppose - and it tracks with my thinking that more and more, success is truly achieved when you are doing what you want to be doing - and doing it well.
Can people succeed at doing what they don't like doing? Of course they can - people do it every day. But what I suspect - at least what is true in my own life - is that succeeding in something you don't really care for is like binding a heavy stone to your back and walking up a steep mountain. You can make it of course, but you will be excessively exhausted when you do and probably not have enjoyed the journey.
Effort equals skill and skill leads to success. But effort takes time and time to succeed - time to practice, time to learn - and it only comes freely when we find something we are willing to spend the time in. When we find something that we enjoy.
I write "looking to succeed in areas I know that I am comfortable" because in the last few weeks it has become apparent that in some of those areas, I am simply not going to move forward. I can expend additional effort in them but the chance that it will result in increased reward is slim to none.
And thus, I find myself at the crossroads.
I have (in the back of my head) occasional visions of what I could and would if I were succeeding in what I truly enjoyed. They are sometimes wild to be sure and off the beaten path (although, I suppose, not off the path for anyone who knows me), but they are the sorts of things that putting effort into is no difficulty at all but rather a joy. The sort of things that one springs out of bed to accomplish in the morning instead of dragging one's self out with a shudder.
The crossroads is coming. How do I turn?
Tuesday, January 29, 2013
Deciding and 40 Miles
I'm trying to run farther.
The genesis of this is silly thing: in a fit of "I can set a goal" on my electronic trainer program, I put in a goal of 40 mile in three weeks. Not a big deal, right? That didn't account for the New Home cold, where I missed some days (as I mistakenly figured that 30 F was too cold to run). Suddenly, I looked to the timing and realized I had only 43% completed with a week to go. I calculated the difference - and found that, with a little pushing on my part, I could make it.
And so, starting yesterday, my mileage went up.
The biggest challenge I found is not that the distance is about twice what I usually run. That's not so hard as I'm not running for time (now) - maybe that will come later. The hardest challenge has actually been the fact that I am really running that far.
It comes down to mental decisions - something that I have pondered and noted before. The decision that, before I even step on to the road, I am going to run the distance that I am going to run.
Knowing that decision up front makes the whole event a great deal easier. Certainly there are places where I can step aside and pull back, that I can peel off early and go home to the cup of coffee that awaits me. But I've decided in my mind that I am going to accomplish this thing, and so I am committed to doing it.
The remarkable thing, of course, is that life is no different.
We complete that which we set our minds to. Think in your own life: what are those things which you did completely? They are the things which you decided to do - up front, before you even began the thing.
This is a critical step and one often missed. How often have I done the opposite: started an activity not deciding up front that I would finish it and then, when I get halfway through and am suddenly bored or tired or have lost interest, finding the way out prior to finishing.
Commitment is the key.
Does it have to be a written commitment? Some writers would say yes - and maybe in some situations that is true. Certainly I don't write down finishing my run in the morning - but I decide it in my head before I step out the door.
Will I make my running goal? I don't know - even without a commitment, it is still a fair distance to make up. But even in trying, I have found another key to success: Decide before you Do.
The genesis of this is silly thing: in a fit of "I can set a goal" on my electronic trainer program, I put in a goal of 40 mile in three weeks. Not a big deal, right? That didn't account for the New Home cold, where I missed some days (as I mistakenly figured that 30 F was too cold to run). Suddenly, I looked to the timing and realized I had only 43% completed with a week to go. I calculated the difference - and found that, with a little pushing on my part, I could make it.
And so, starting yesterday, my mileage went up.
The biggest challenge I found is not that the distance is about twice what I usually run. That's not so hard as I'm not running for time (now) - maybe that will come later. The hardest challenge has actually been the fact that I am really running that far.
It comes down to mental decisions - something that I have pondered and noted before. The decision that, before I even step on to the road, I am going to run the distance that I am going to run.
Knowing that decision up front makes the whole event a great deal easier. Certainly there are places where I can step aside and pull back, that I can peel off early and go home to the cup of coffee that awaits me. But I've decided in my mind that I am going to accomplish this thing, and so I am committed to doing it.
The remarkable thing, of course, is that life is no different.
We complete that which we set our minds to. Think in your own life: what are those things which you did completely? They are the things which you decided to do - up front, before you even began the thing.
This is a critical step and one often missed. How often have I done the opposite: started an activity not deciding up front that I would finish it and then, when I get halfway through and am suddenly bored or tired or have lost interest, finding the way out prior to finishing.
Commitment is the key.
Does it have to be a written commitment? Some writers would say yes - and maybe in some situations that is true. Certainly I don't write down finishing my run in the morning - but I decide it in my head before I step out the door.
Will I make my running goal? I don't know - even without a commitment, it is still a fair distance to make up. But even in trying, I have found another key to success: Decide before you Do.
Monday, January 28, 2013
Ungrateful and Contentious
"And they (the children of Israel) journeyed from Elim, and all the congregation of the children of Israel came to the Wilderness of Sin, which is between Elim and Sinai, on the fifteenth day of the second month after they departed from the land of Egypt. Then the whole congregation of the children of Israel complained against Moses and Aaron in the wilderness. And the children of Israel said to them "Oh, that we had died by the hand of the LORD in the land of Egypt, when we sat by the pots of meat and when we ate bread to the full. For you have brought us out into this wilderness to kill this whole assembly with hunger." - Exodus 16: 1-3
"Then all the congregation of the children of Israel set out on their journey from the Wilderness of Sin, according to the commandment of the LORD, and camped in Rephidim, but there was no water for the people to drink. Therefore the people contended with Moses and said, "Give us water, that we may drink.
So Moses said to them, "Why do you contend with me? Why do you tempt the LORD?"
And the people thirsted there for water, and the people complained against Moses, and said "Why is it you have brought us out of Egypt, to kill us and our children and our livestock with thirst?" - Exodus 17:1-3
We know the story, right? The Children of Israel, that ungrateful lot of grumblers, complained their way across the Sinai until, in the height of their sin and grumbling, they were punished by God with denial into the Promised Land and 40 years of wandering until that generation died off. Next slide, please, showing the Conquest of the Promised Land.
But wait? Notice the chapter heading. Only three chapters previously in Exodus 11-12 God freed the people from slavery and only 2 chapters earlier in Exodus 13 He parted the Red Sea. We are not talking about a long period of time between one event and another. This was only weeks, perhaps days, after God's miraculous actions.
And God abandoning them? The Pillar of Fire went forth by night and the Pillar of Cloud by day, a visible presence of God's guidance and protection. They were hardly alone.
Yet in spite of all this, they seem to act as if none of this had happened and that they are completely alone. Instead of remaining in a place of gratitude, they attack God for failing to provide for them.
They attack. Notice that. They don't ask humbly, in faith. They don't beg. They demand, they contend: "Give us! You brought us here to kill us!"
We snicker a bit mentally perhaps, say "idiots" to ourselves, and read on. But are we any different? We have God's spirit within us. We have His promise to always be with us. We have His daily provisions for us. Yet we are no different, screaming "Give us this" at the top of our lungs and demanding that God fulfill our needs in our ways instead of trusting in Him.
God guard us from ungrateful hearts and demanding spirits that fail to see His goodness and fail to trust in His provision
"Then all the congregation of the children of Israel set out on their journey from the Wilderness of Sin, according to the commandment of the LORD, and camped in Rephidim, but there was no water for the people to drink. Therefore the people contended with Moses and said, "Give us water, that we may drink.
So Moses said to them, "Why do you contend with me? Why do you tempt the LORD?"
And the people thirsted there for water, and the people complained against Moses, and said "Why is it you have brought us out of Egypt, to kill us and our children and our livestock with thirst?" - Exodus 17:1-3
We know the story, right? The Children of Israel, that ungrateful lot of grumblers, complained their way across the Sinai until, in the height of their sin and grumbling, they were punished by God with denial into the Promised Land and 40 years of wandering until that generation died off. Next slide, please, showing the Conquest of the Promised Land.
But wait? Notice the chapter heading. Only three chapters previously in Exodus 11-12 God freed the people from slavery and only 2 chapters earlier in Exodus 13 He parted the Red Sea. We are not talking about a long period of time between one event and another. This was only weeks, perhaps days, after God's miraculous actions.
And God abandoning them? The Pillar of Fire went forth by night and the Pillar of Cloud by day, a visible presence of God's guidance and protection. They were hardly alone.
Yet in spite of all this, they seem to act as if none of this had happened and that they are completely alone. Instead of remaining in a place of gratitude, they attack God for failing to provide for them.
They attack. Notice that. They don't ask humbly, in faith. They don't beg. They demand, they contend: "Give us! You brought us here to kill us!"
We snicker a bit mentally perhaps, say "idiots" to ourselves, and read on. But are we any different? We have God's spirit within us. We have His promise to always be with us. We have His daily provisions for us. Yet we are no different, screaming "Give us this" at the top of our lungs and demanding that God fulfill our needs in our ways instead of trusting in Him.
God guard us from ungrateful hearts and demanding spirits that fail to see His goodness and fail to trust in His provision
Friday, January 25, 2013
Turning from Sadness
"Therefore, my advice to you, friends,
is to turn aside from troubled and anxious reflection
on your own progress,
and escape to the easier paths of remembering the
good things God has done.
In this way, instead of becoming upset by thinking
about yourself,
you will find relief by turning your attention to
God...
Sorrow for sin is indeed a necessary thing,
but it should not prevail all the time.
On the contrary, it is necessary that happier
recollections of God's generosity
should counterbalance it,
lest the heart should become hardened through too
much sadness
and so perish in despair."
- Bernard of Clairvaux, The Way of Simplicity, Esther De Waal
is to turn aside from troubled and anxious reflection
on your own progress,
and escape to the easier paths of remembering the
good things God has done.
In this way, instead of becoming upset by thinking
about yourself,
you will find relief by turning your attention to
God...
Sorrow for sin is indeed a necessary thing,
but it should not prevail all the time.
On the contrary, it is necessary that happier
recollections of God's generosity
should counterbalance it,
lest the heart should become hardened through too
much sadness
and so perish in despair."
- Bernard of Clairvaux, The Way of Simplicity, Esther De Waal
Thursday, January 24, 2013
Wednesday, January 23, 2013
Noto
Last night at Iaido class we practiced toho waza, a very simple (and very old) kata that was subsumed from another discipline. It is a series of five simple kata involving the basic cuts. Five kata, one hour - we got a lot of practice. But for the first time I paid real attention to the noto.
Noto, in case you do not remember, is the simply act of sheathing the sword. In motion, it simply consists of wrapping the thumb and forefinger around the koiguchi (mouth of the scabbard), flipping the mune (back of the blade) over the koiguchi and the arm, pulling the ha (blade) back to the right until the kisaki (tip) drops into the koiguchi, and then inserting the blade to the tsuba (hilt). The speed of the insertion can vary - last night, we practiced putting 2/3 of the ha in quickly and the last 1/3 in slowly.
As we practicing the kata - nukitsuke, kata, noto - I came to realize that there was something almost mystical about the noto - a good one, anyway.
The noto in and of itself is not the main part of the attack and defense, nor is it the critical part of removing the blood from the ha (chibori); it is the final step of the kata, the end of the process. It can be the most overlooked part of the exercise - after all, it is not a block or a cut.
But it is critical. The angle the elbow, the hold of the hand on the tsuba (hilt), the plane of the blade and the scabbard (they should be perpendicular to the body, making a "T"), all are a part of the larger whole of the kata. Without a good noto, the work of the rest is essentially undone.
The mystical comes from a noto well done. There is a way the blade slides into the scabbard when the angle is just right - where it does not catch slightly on the inside of the scabbard due to a misalignment - that makes the entire move feel right. The movement feels not so much as a separate motion as it does the completion of the entire action of the kata. I cannot fully explain the feeling in a meaningful way - but it is something that if it is done right gives a sense like nothing else I have ever felt.
I have commented before that iaido is really just a preparation for life in a different fashion. The same is true of noto - a reminder that every part of our lives - the ending of actions as well as the beginning - deserves our utmost attention and that an ending well done is no less important - perhaps even more so - than beginning well.
Noto, in case you do not remember, is the simply act of sheathing the sword. In motion, it simply consists of wrapping the thumb and forefinger around the koiguchi (mouth of the scabbard), flipping the mune (back of the blade) over the koiguchi and the arm, pulling the ha (blade) back to the right until the kisaki (tip) drops into the koiguchi, and then inserting the blade to the tsuba (hilt). The speed of the insertion can vary - last night, we practiced putting 2/3 of the ha in quickly and the last 1/3 in slowly.
As we practicing the kata - nukitsuke, kata, noto - I came to realize that there was something almost mystical about the noto - a good one, anyway.
The noto in and of itself is not the main part of the attack and defense, nor is it the critical part of removing the blood from the ha (chibori); it is the final step of the kata, the end of the process. It can be the most overlooked part of the exercise - after all, it is not a block or a cut.
But it is critical. The angle the elbow, the hold of the hand on the tsuba (hilt), the plane of the blade and the scabbard (they should be perpendicular to the body, making a "T"), all are a part of the larger whole of the kata. Without a good noto, the work of the rest is essentially undone.
The mystical comes from a noto well done. There is a way the blade slides into the scabbard when the angle is just right - where it does not catch slightly on the inside of the scabbard due to a misalignment - that makes the entire move feel right. The movement feels not so much as a separate motion as it does the completion of the entire action of the kata. I cannot fully explain the feeling in a meaningful way - but it is something that if it is done right gives a sense like nothing else I have ever felt.
I have commented before that iaido is really just a preparation for life in a different fashion. The same is true of noto - a reminder that every part of our lives - the ending of actions as well as the beginning - deserves our utmost attention and that an ending well done is no less important - perhaps even more so - than beginning well.
Tuesday, January 22, 2013
Cubed
Yesterday I relocated back to a cube.
This has been part of a larger move which will eventually see large portions of my area relocating to one space or another, a sort of corporate periodic migration which seems to occur from time to time as, driven by the call of efficiency or a new reporting structure or perhaps even just a fancy, people are uprooted from one workplace and move to another.
It's also odd because this will be the first time in almost 4 years that I've been in a cube - and many years longer since I've shared one with someone else.
I will not lie and say that it was not a bit odd yesterday. It is odd to move your stuff from where you've been for almost four years - almost a cocoon of sorts, your safe office - to a place which is much smaller and where you feel much more exposed - in my case now, with my back to the entrance. And even after you spend the hour readjusting your computer and your screens to get them right - although they won't really be right for another week or so - working there still seems odd: what creatures of habit we become, that the perception of what is around our computer screen can affect how we work. And the ambient noise is the most disturbing of all: I went from no noise at all to the chatter of individuals around me, the hum of pieces of equipment I don't recognize, and the occasional "SLAM" of the door going outside as people leave.
It is not that the change bothers me per se, I suppose - I've maintained for a long time that work is not my home and wherever I sit is merely the location I happen to be at to do my work. And supposedly good things will come out of this at the end, a reorganization that will make things more efficient. The thing that does nag on me is the horrible sense that somehow I have been effectively demoted in the eyes of others - perhaps sort of a continuing sense that I - and my function - are considered to be of less importance than they were before.
The saddest part I suppose is the fact of moving from where I was. There are a great many memories tied up in that office. I spent time there rebuilding the understanding of QA by being a location for others to come and talk. At one time three of us were placed in tight quarters in that area; the camaraderie that was built there still lingers to this day. Tears were shed, decisions to leave were made, in some cases lives really were affected in that office. That part is gone now, dispersed to cubes with walls that fall short of the ceiling and doors that don't exist, a blip in the history of the company that has now passed with the wind.
I am sure that I will get over such things - I always manage to and after all, nothing is forever. Still, there is a lingering sense this morning that something has changed - something that was unique not just about where we were but how related - and that it will never be the same.
It will be much more like...work.
This has been part of a larger move which will eventually see large portions of my area relocating to one space or another, a sort of corporate periodic migration which seems to occur from time to time as, driven by the call of efficiency or a new reporting structure or perhaps even just a fancy, people are uprooted from one workplace and move to another.
It's also odd because this will be the first time in almost 4 years that I've been in a cube - and many years longer since I've shared one with someone else.
I will not lie and say that it was not a bit odd yesterday. It is odd to move your stuff from where you've been for almost four years - almost a cocoon of sorts, your safe office - to a place which is much smaller and where you feel much more exposed - in my case now, with my back to the entrance. And even after you spend the hour readjusting your computer and your screens to get them right - although they won't really be right for another week or so - working there still seems odd: what creatures of habit we become, that the perception of what is around our computer screen can affect how we work. And the ambient noise is the most disturbing of all: I went from no noise at all to the chatter of individuals around me, the hum of pieces of equipment I don't recognize, and the occasional "SLAM" of the door going outside as people leave.
It is not that the change bothers me per se, I suppose - I've maintained for a long time that work is not my home and wherever I sit is merely the location I happen to be at to do my work. And supposedly good things will come out of this at the end, a reorganization that will make things more efficient. The thing that does nag on me is the horrible sense that somehow I have been effectively demoted in the eyes of others - perhaps sort of a continuing sense that I - and my function - are considered to be of less importance than they were before.
The saddest part I suppose is the fact of moving from where I was. There are a great many memories tied up in that office. I spent time there rebuilding the understanding of QA by being a location for others to come and talk. At one time three of us were placed in tight quarters in that area; the camaraderie that was built there still lingers to this day. Tears were shed, decisions to leave were made, in some cases lives really were affected in that office. That part is gone now, dispersed to cubes with walls that fall short of the ceiling and doors that don't exist, a blip in the history of the company that has now passed with the wind.
I am sure that I will get over such things - I always manage to and after all, nothing is forever. Still, there is a lingering sense this morning that something has changed - something that was unique not just about where we were but how related - and that it will never be the same.
It will be much more like...work.
Monday, January 21, 2013
The Beauty of Holiness
"Worship the LORD in the beauty of holiness,
fear before Him, all the earth!" -Psalm 96:9
We are a people who are obsessed with beauty. We (at least we in the US) spend millions each year on things to make us more beautiful, be they clothes or make-up or gyms. We have entire temples - call them malls if you would like - that are dedicated to the proposition that beauty is something that can be purchased and arranged, if only we have the right things. Our entertainment is also possessed by an insatiable thirst for beauty. Stars are ranked on beauty; people watch the arrival of stars to award ceremonies purely for seeing how beautiful they appear.
This obsession with beauty has its dark side, of course. For every beautiful person, there are many who are not. Husbands will leave wives and wives husbands because they have found someone more beautiful. And for those that are beautiful, there is a huge pressure to remain on top of the beauty curve, sometimes leading to destructive behaviors such as anorexia or drug addiction- or even worse.
So what do we make of a comment such as above, where we are commanded to worship the Lord in the beauty of holiness?
What is the beauty of holiness anyway? It surely cannot be something physical or corporeal - although we see the workings of such beauty in the world around us. And it is surely not something which is widely recognized - for if it was, I am sure that our commercial society would find a way to market it.
It must be something beyond our ability to see, although not beyond our ability to comprehend as we are commanded to worship the Lord because of it.
What is holiness? Ultimately it is the absence of sin. It is what God is - pure, undefiled, without sin.
Can I imagine someone without sin? Without a single attitude or action that does not honor God? Who never, ever does anything against the will of God? Can I imagine myself even for 10 seconds being that way - not just by the absence of sinning (if I stand in a dark room and think nothing, I can do that) but by a total removal of the sin nature?
Imagine a being so pure that, like the beauty of an unspoiled natural setting, our hearts are lifted up simply because of the existence of such a thing. Imagine the most beautiful natural scene that you have ever seen and how you felt - and then imagine that this existed in a Personality that interacted with you.
This, I think, is the beauty of holiness.
Holiness is not always attractive in our world, of course. We do not see God on a daily basis - we see His people. And they are not only holy - no, let us personalize it: I am not always holy. To the extent that I am not is the extent to which I fail to allow God to shine through me. The extent to which I mar the beauty of holiness with the ugly of sin. I am - as undoubtedly we all are - a marred imago Dei. To look at any of us probably serves to not recommend holiness to anyone.
Which is why the psalmist directs us as he does. Ultimately our hope and our source is not ourselves but rather the God who is perfect in all His ways. Who is holy. And Who through His holiness is beautiful, like the beauty of a red-gold sunset or the rugged beauty of the coast or the harsh cry of the hawk flying over the pines.
Worship the LORD in the beauty of holiness,
fear before Him, all the earth.
fear before Him, all the earth!" -Psalm 96:9
We are a people who are obsessed with beauty. We (at least we in the US) spend millions each year on things to make us more beautiful, be they clothes or make-up or gyms. We have entire temples - call them malls if you would like - that are dedicated to the proposition that beauty is something that can be purchased and arranged, if only we have the right things. Our entertainment is also possessed by an insatiable thirst for beauty. Stars are ranked on beauty; people watch the arrival of stars to award ceremonies purely for seeing how beautiful they appear.
This obsession with beauty has its dark side, of course. For every beautiful person, there are many who are not. Husbands will leave wives and wives husbands because they have found someone more beautiful. And for those that are beautiful, there is a huge pressure to remain on top of the beauty curve, sometimes leading to destructive behaviors such as anorexia or drug addiction- or even worse.
So what do we make of a comment such as above, where we are commanded to worship the Lord in the beauty of holiness?
What is the beauty of holiness anyway? It surely cannot be something physical or corporeal - although we see the workings of such beauty in the world around us. And it is surely not something which is widely recognized - for if it was, I am sure that our commercial society would find a way to market it.
It must be something beyond our ability to see, although not beyond our ability to comprehend as we are commanded to worship the Lord because of it.
What is holiness? Ultimately it is the absence of sin. It is what God is - pure, undefiled, without sin.
Can I imagine someone without sin? Without a single attitude or action that does not honor God? Who never, ever does anything against the will of God? Can I imagine myself even for 10 seconds being that way - not just by the absence of sinning (if I stand in a dark room and think nothing, I can do that) but by a total removal of the sin nature?
Imagine a being so pure that, like the beauty of an unspoiled natural setting, our hearts are lifted up simply because of the existence of such a thing. Imagine the most beautiful natural scene that you have ever seen and how you felt - and then imagine that this existed in a Personality that interacted with you.
This, I think, is the beauty of holiness.
Holiness is not always attractive in our world, of course. We do not see God on a daily basis - we see His people. And they are not only holy - no, let us personalize it: I am not always holy. To the extent that I am not is the extent to which I fail to allow God to shine through me. The extent to which I mar the beauty of holiness with the ugly of sin. I am - as undoubtedly we all are - a marred imago Dei. To look at any of us probably serves to not recommend holiness to anyone.
Which is why the psalmist directs us as he does. Ultimately our hope and our source is not ourselves but rather the God who is perfect in all His ways. Who is holy. And Who through His holiness is beautiful, like the beauty of a red-gold sunset or the rugged beauty of the coast or the harsh cry of the hawk flying over the pines.
Worship the LORD in the beauty of holiness,
fear before Him, all the earth.
Friday, January 18, 2013
Compliment and Castigation
"I can live on a good compliment for two months" - Mark Twain
There is nothing - absolutely nothing - like the power of a compliment, especially a compliment which one did not expect to receive. It is simply amazing how such a thing can radically change one's day.
The funny reaction that I noticed when it happened (and yes, I actually did get one) was my own interenally response. There was an initial burst of "Wow, that's great! Somebody got it and liked it", which was almost immediately followed a second burst of a dampening of the spirits and justification of why the compliment was really not that big a deal, sort of a "Well, I suppose so, but..."
It was fascinating to watch, this internal discussion of point and counterpoint that occured with myself, as if I was a third party observing from the outside: the one person, happy and reveling in an earned reward, the other person reminding them how little they actually did to earn it and that it didn't really count anyway. I do not know that I have often been conscious of this interaction - or that I could watch it as a third person.
As I mulled it over last night, what I came to realize is I tend to do this a great deal to myself: I consistently find ways to make things like compliments small and find reasons why good things like that are either undeserved or simply not that big a deal. That strikes me as very odd, considering the fact that those are the sorts of things that (at least I claim) I would like more of in my life.
I don't know that this sort of thing rises to the level of a true self hatred; it does not seem nearly that severe. It just seems to be more of a grumbling presence, someone who has determined that it will not be happy and therefore all around it will not be happy either, a sort of dour companion that (if I think about it) I have had hanging around with me for a very long time.
I am thinking, perhaps, that it is time I gave this fellow a vacation and see what his replacement is like.
Thursday, January 17, 2013
Wednesday, January 16, 2013
Dear Dr. Martin
Dear Dr. Martin:
I have recently received with interest a compilation of your Table Talks in the book Off The Record with Martin Luther. It is a summary of the conversations which occurred in your off moments - primarily at your dining table (thus the name), but also in other parts of your life - which others took the effort to capture. I'm grateful to have the abridged version, as I learned that the original works constitute some six volumes.
First of all, thank you for be gracious enough for letting others capture your words. There are many throughout history who have sought to control their image through their words and what they allowed others to say about them. You were kind enough - or secure enough in yourself - to let the record stand as it was recorded.
In one way it is very difficult to read - 450 or more years have passed between when they were recorded and when I am reading them, and the world is (in many ways) a very different place. My worldview is the output of things that you could have never envisioned at the time; your worldview is the product of things which I'm sure never made it into any history book. And were we to meet today (we will meet someday, of course) we probably could not even speak: my high German is different than your Saxon dialect, and the Latin you used as an international language is at best a broken form of communication for me.
But it is a pleasure - an extreme pleasure - to read your conversations. It is amazing to me (so far as I can tell) about how honest you are - not just with your opinions, but with your inner thoughts as well. You confess to anger and times of depression. You have a great love for all children, especially children of your own. You are bold in your opinions - perhaps sometimes too bold for my taste, but then again I was never threatened with death and had to go into hiding. I also must confess (guiltily) that I enjoyed the story of your arguments with the town mayor for tearing down your heated tower study to build a town wall (I, too, would be grumpy as well).
I look forward to spending more time with you, and hope you will forgive the occasional questions which will inevitably arise.
Your Faithful Student,
Maighstir Toirdhealbheach Beucail
I have recently received with interest a compilation of your Table Talks in the book Off The Record with Martin Luther. It is a summary of the conversations which occurred in your off moments - primarily at your dining table (thus the name), but also in other parts of your life - which others took the effort to capture. I'm grateful to have the abridged version, as I learned that the original works constitute some six volumes.
First of all, thank you for be gracious enough for letting others capture your words. There are many throughout history who have sought to control their image through their words and what they allowed others to say about them. You were kind enough - or secure enough in yourself - to let the record stand as it was recorded.
In one way it is very difficult to read - 450 or more years have passed between when they were recorded and when I am reading them, and the world is (in many ways) a very different place. My worldview is the output of things that you could have never envisioned at the time; your worldview is the product of things which I'm sure never made it into any history book. And were we to meet today (we will meet someday, of course) we probably could not even speak: my high German is different than your Saxon dialect, and the Latin you used as an international language is at best a broken form of communication for me.
But it is a pleasure - an extreme pleasure - to read your conversations. It is amazing to me (so far as I can tell) about how honest you are - not just with your opinions, but with your inner thoughts as well. You confess to anger and times of depression. You have a great love for all children, especially children of your own. You are bold in your opinions - perhaps sometimes too bold for my taste, but then again I was never threatened with death and had to go into hiding. I also must confess (guiltily) that I enjoyed the story of your arguments with the town mayor for tearing down your heated tower study to build a town wall (I, too, would be grumpy as well).
I look forward to spending more time with you, and hope you will forgive the occasional questions which will inevitably arise.
Your Faithful Student,
Maighstir Toirdhealbheach Beucail
Tuesday, January 15, 2013
A Tire, A Screw and God
There is nothing more disheartening than looking out the window at work and seeing your car settling down on slowly leaking tire. But there it was, no matter how I cocked my head at it.
Sighing, I went to grab my keys and re-park on the level area of the parking lot - a short 30 foot journey, but depression tends to add distance. I got out and started pulling out my jack and spare - which, it turns out, I've become very adept at doing over the last three years, seemingly having more flat tires in that time than all the previous years of driving.
The cold in the air probably sped along my efforts: within 10 minutes I had the tire off, the tiny replacement back on, and the jack back in the car. I walked back in but my mind was already moving to where I would get the tire fixed - I would have to leave early, of course, with no guarantee of what the cost would be.
So I pulled out an hour early to head back towards home. The curse of the "doughnut" is, of course, that you really shouldn't go above 50 mph - which gives one even more time to think and grumble as you slowly make your way back home.
I arrived at the tire store and showed them the time. We are a little busy, they said - it might take 30 or 45 minutes. Fine, I nodded, and went to sit in the waiting area amongst the stale coffee and History Channel to patiently wait.
About two hours later, I got the car back.
I started to snarl about the whole thing on the way home - the tire, the time - then I started to think of the actual events:
1) My tire did not go flat until I reached work, so I did not have to change it while worrying about dodging traffic.
2) The offending screw was directly on the top of the tire, allowing it to be repaired.
3) I have a job where leaving an hour early is not an issue.
4) The tire repair cost me nothing (apparently the hazard fee was worth it).
Does the whole event make me any happier? Not really. I still hate flat tires (although my changing speed has dramatically increased)? But what it does, correctly, remind of is something that I posted last week from Bernard of Clairvaux:
"We are commended to gather up the fragments, lest they be lost,
which means that we are not to forget even the smallest benefits"
Even a tire and screw can be a potent reminder of the graciousness of God.
Sighing, I went to grab my keys and re-park on the level area of the parking lot - a short 30 foot journey, but depression tends to add distance. I got out and started pulling out my jack and spare - which, it turns out, I've become very adept at doing over the last three years, seemingly having more flat tires in that time than all the previous years of driving.
The cold in the air probably sped along my efforts: within 10 minutes I had the tire off, the tiny replacement back on, and the jack back in the car. I walked back in but my mind was already moving to where I would get the tire fixed - I would have to leave early, of course, with no guarantee of what the cost would be.
So I pulled out an hour early to head back towards home. The curse of the "doughnut" is, of course, that you really shouldn't go above 50 mph - which gives one even more time to think and grumble as you slowly make your way back home.
I arrived at the tire store and showed them the time. We are a little busy, they said - it might take 30 or 45 minutes. Fine, I nodded, and went to sit in the waiting area amongst the stale coffee and History Channel to patiently wait.
About two hours later, I got the car back.
I started to snarl about the whole thing on the way home - the tire, the time - then I started to think of the actual events:
1) My tire did not go flat until I reached work, so I did not have to change it while worrying about dodging traffic.
2) The offending screw was directly on the top of the tire, allowing it to be repaired.
3) I have a job where leaving an hour early is not an issue.
4) The tire repair cost me nothing (apparently the hazard fee was worth it).
Does the whole event make me any happier? Not really. I still hate flat tires (although my changing speed has dramatically increased)? But what it does, correctly, remind of is something that I posted last week from Bernard of Clairvaux:
"We are commended to gather up the fragments, lest they be lost,
which means that we are not to forget even the smallest benefits"
Even a tire and screw can be a potent reminder of the graciousness of God.
Monday, January 14, 2013
Day of Rest
Yesterday was a true day of rest.
I planned that way. As part of my revamping of goals and how I execute on them, I did some readjustment and some scheduling to ensure that Sunday by noon I would have accomplished everything that I hoped to accomplish for the day, leaving the afternoon available. It turned out to be one of the most randomly frustrating things I have done in a long time.
Part of the issue was the fact that I had made some cheese in the morning and hoped to be done with it - which didn't happen. I had to keep working with it all afternoon (note to self: no cheese on Sundays).
Part of the issue was fact that my thigh and knee were not co-operating as I wish they would have, leaving me to a bit more inactivity than I would have like (note to self: monitor your exercise a bit more to make sure you are not messing anything up).
But the biggest frustration? Apparently I've lost the ability to be.
I found myself constantly trying to do other things: I'd read something, then I'd immediately read something else. My attention span flitted between three different books I have been reading - as well as the cheese on the back of my mind and anything else that seemed to wander through.
So what is my assessment of my attempt at a day of rest? Not very good, quite frankly. My mind was a blur of activity, my body complained, and my attention kept getting split between a number of things, leaving it scarcely enough time to focus on any one thing.
A good learning experience, of course. I intend to continue to work towards making Sundays more of day of rest and time with family. Like my goals for this year, I just need to work on learning how to execute on them.
Who knew a day of rest was so much work.
I planned that way. As part of my revamping of goals and how I execute on them, I did some readjustment and some scheduling to ensure that Sunday by noon I would have accomplished everything that I hoped to accomplish for the day, leaving the afternoon available. It turned out to be one of the most randomly frustrating things I have done in a long time.
Part of the issue was the fact that I had made some cheese in the morning and hoped to be done with it - which didn't happen. I had to keep working with it all afternoon (note to self: no cheese on Sundays).
Part of the issue was fact that my thigh and knee were not co-operating as I wish they would have, leaving me to a bit more inactivity than I would have like (note to self: monitor your exercise a bit more to make sure you are not messing anything up).
But the biggest frustration? Apparently I've lost the ability to be.
I found myself constantly trying to do other things: I'd read something, then I'd immediately read something else. My attention span flitted between three different books I have been reading - as well as the cheese on the back of my mind and anything else that seemed to wander through.
So what is my assessment of my attempt at a day of rest? Not very good, quite frankly. My mind was a blur of activity, my body complained, and my attention kept getting split between a number of things, leaving it scarcely enough time to focus on any one thing.
A good learning experience, of course. I intend to continue to work towards making Sundays more of day of rest and time with family. Like my goals for this year, I just need to work on learning how to execute on them.
Who knew a day of rest was so much work.
Friday, January 11, 2013
2013 - Two Weeks In
So - two weeks in, how is the goal structure going?
Interesting question. The results I am seeing are not quite what I was expecting.
It seems that I have three categories the goals have fallen into:
1) Things which, having set them, I am being very diligent in accomplishing. This encompasses 9 goals or about 33%.
2) Things which, having set them, I am not yet regular in working towards. This encompasses 11 goals or about 39%
3) The remaining goals which I have taken no action at all on yet. This encompasses 6 goals or about 28%.
Obviously, category one is going as well as can be expected. Category three, for the most part, have not been worked on because there is no action I can take in the first two weeks of the year to move towards them.
It is the soft center that is of interest to me, that 39% which I have taken some action on but not regular action on. What is it that hinders me from doing better on those and how can I move such things forward more towards completion?
One factor that seems to be playing in is time and scheduling. For those items that I am actively making progress in, I have scheduled the activities into my day such that I do them approximately the same time every day. It seems that at least some of those items in the soft center - especially those that need daily activities - suffer from the fact that I have not yet found a permanent schedule that allows me to schedule them in at a regular time to help me as a prompt to act.
Another factor is that some of the activities don't necessarily have many small tasks to move towards completion - they have perhaps a few infrequent things that may ramp up from time to time but most of the time stay at a single level. Keeping track of these - and keeping motivated about them on a daily basis instead of only realizing once a week or so I didn't take action - is going to be a challenge.
Still, let us take things for what they are worth. Doing something on at lest 72% of what I wanted to act on this year is far more than I could have hoped for. With a little bit of tweaking I think I can move more into the "Take action every day" category. That alone is cause for celebration.
Interesting question. The results I am seeing are not quite what I was expecting.
It seems that I have three categories the goals have fallen into:
1) Things which, having set them, I am being very diligent in accomplishing. This encompasses 9 goals or about 33%.
2) Things which, having set them, I am not yet regular in working towards. This encompasses 11 goals or about 39%
3) The remaining goals which I have taken no action at all on yet. This encompasses 6 goals or about 28%.
Obviously, category one is going as well as can be expected. Category three, for the most part, have not been worked on because there is no action I can take in the first two weeks of the year to move towards them.
It is the soft center that is of interest to me, that 39% which I have taken some action on but not regular action on. What is it that hinders me from doing better on those and how can I move such things forward more towards completion?
One factor that seems to be playing in is time and scheduling. For those items that I am actively making progress in, I have scheduled the activities into my day such that I do them approximately the same time every day. It seems that at least some of those items in the soft center - especially those that need daily activities - suffer from the fact that I have not yet found a permanent schedule that allows me to schedule them in at a regular time to help me as a prompt to act.
Another factor is that some of the activities don't necessarily have many small tasks to move towards completion - they have perhaps a few infrequent things that may ramp up from time to time but most of the time stay at a single level. Keeping track of these - and keeping motivated about them on a daily basis instead of only realizing once a week or so I didn't take action - is going to be a challenge.
Still, let us take things for what they are worth. Doing something on at lest 72% of what I wanted to act on this year is far more than I could have hoped for. With a little bit of tweaking I think I can move more into the "Take action every day" category. That alone is cause for celebration.
Thursday, January 10, 2013
Gratitude
Learn not to be tardy or sluggish in offering thanks
learn to offer thanks for each and every gift.
Take careful note, Scripture advises,
of what is set before you,
so that no gift of God,
great or moderate or small,
will be deprived of due thanksgiving.
We are even commended to gather up the fragments,
lest they be lost,
which means that we are not to forget even the
smallest benefit.
Ingratitude is the soul's enemy,
a voiding of merits,
dissipation of the virtues,
wasting of benefits.
Ingratitude is a burning wind
that dries up the source of love,
the dew of mercy,
the streams of grace.
- Bernard of Clairvaux, quoted in The Way of Simplicity: The Cistercian Tradition by Esther De Waal
learn to offer thanks for each and every gift.
Take careful note, Scripture advises,
of what is set before you,
so that no gift of God,
great or moderate or small,
will be deprived of due thanksgiving.
We are even commended to gather up the fragments,
lest they be lost,
which means that we are not to forget even the
smallest benefit.
Ingratitude is the soul's enemy,
a voiding of merits,
dissipation of the virtues,
wasting of benefits.
Ingratitude is a burning wind
that dries up the source of love,
the dew of mercy,
the streams of grace.
- Bernard of Clairvaux, quoted in The Way of Simplicity: The Cistercian Tradition by Esther De Waal
Wednesday, January 09, 2013
Acknowledgement
We were have a post-delayed Christmas lunch Pow-Wow around the Comppound, the sort of conversation which occurs when one is back but not quite ready to get back to work. I commented in passing to Fear Beag that was nice to see so many people at the lunch table compared to some years past, when it has been so few. I even noted that An Ghearmailteach was mentioned. Both of them agreed, even noting in one case that someone that had never been mentioned - in a year - was noted.
I didn't think much of it until I was thinking later about the question of acknowledging people. Suddenly I realized it for the insult that it was.
To acknowledge someone is not the same as to become their friend. It is not the same as asking them to be part of your life. It is, however, noted their existence and granting them the respect that one deserves for being and doing. It matters more, of course, when the people in question are doing something for or around you from which you benefit directly or indirectly.
In wondering why this is, I wonder what it says about the people themselves. Is it because they are uncomfortable? Is it because they do not know what to say? Or is it from a simple practice that unless someone is directly contributing to my life or my being, they are not worth notice?
It may seem like a minor point, but (having been on the other side of this multiple times) it is a matter of greatest concern in situations where people live and work together. There is a certain level of decorum that simply must be maintained if we are to function as a group. Not acknowledging people - essentially pretending that they do not exist - does nothing towards accomplishing anything and certainly does not change the fact that they are actually there. And believe me - people do notice.
The challenge for myself is to find that I do not fall into the same trap.
People exist - especially those doing something from which you benefit. Take a moment to at least nod or say hi. Just because they are not doing what you are doing does not mean they have no value.
I didn't think much of it until I was thinking later about the question of acknowledging people. Suddenly I realized it for the insult that it was.
To acknowledge someone is not the same as to become their friend. It is not the same as asking them to be part of your life. It is, however, noted their existence and granting them the respect that one deserves for being and doing. It matters more, of course, when the people in question are doing something for or around you from which you benefit directly or indirectly.
In wondering why this is, I wonder what it says about the people themselves. Is it because they are uncomfortable? Is it because they do not know what to say? Or is it from a simple practice that unless someone is directly contributing to my life or my being, they are not worth notice?
It may seem like a minor point, but (having been on the other side of this multiple times) it is a matter of greatest concern in situations where people live and work together. There is a certain level of decorum that simply must be maintained if we are to function as a group. Not acknowledging people - essentially pretending that they do not exist - does nothing towards accomplishing anything and certainly does not change the fact that they are actually there. And believe me - people do notice.
The challenge for myself is to find that I do not fall into the same trap.
People exist - especially those doing something from which you benefit. Take a moment to at least nod or say hi. Just because they are not doing what you are doing does not mean they have no value.
Tuesday, January 08, 2013
Editing
I am going through the process of editing the manuscript that I generated in Nanowrimo 2013.
I have never much enjoyed editing. I'm not really sure why - for that matter, I have never really wanted to re-read anything I have written after I am done with it. In fact, it is almost to the point of being something of a phobia with me.
Why is this? I'm not really sure. Someone who feels that I suffer from pride might say that I am too proud to consider the fact that I would not question that I could make a mistake. Someone who feels I suffer from insecurity might say that I have no confidence in what I wrote. Someone who feels I am lazy might say that I just don't want to finish the job. Someone who feels I am too much of a perfectionist might say I avoid it to avoid confronting the fact that I am not perfect.
My thought? A combination I believe: on the one hand the very simple belief the editing is not part of the creative process, not part of the "fun". Writing is the making of someone from other things - or in the case of writing, making something from nothing but your mind. Editing, I perceive, is not "fun": it is the crawling through of each individual character, word and phrase looking not only for direct error but an indirect phrasing or something that could be improved.
The other fact is, I believe, my underlying distrust of criticism.
I have trouble with criticism (there, I've said it). What is new, you might ask - it is not as if anyone really gets excited to receive it. True enough I suppose. Still, I have always had an issue with criticism, even if it is offered in a professional manner, even if it is offered for things that are not personal. Why is this? A combination at play again, I suppose: on the one hand a sense that everything for me is personal, that everything I do (even if it is not personal) is an extension of myself. On the other, a deep and abiding sense - fear, even - of how criticism has been used in the past, as tool not to correct and improve but to destroy.
Common enough in everyone's lives I suppose - we have all been the victim of criticism meant to do something other than improve. But I know few cases where the individual themselves is concerned that their own self-criticism is designed to destroy themselves.
I think like anything else editing is a process - not only in learning to do it, but in learning that it is not the fearsome thing you perceive it to be, and that it is possible to trust even yourself to deliver criticism which is of use rather than destructive.
I do not know that I will ever come fully to terms with editing - as I said, it is not the most entertaining part of the process. But perhaps I can at least come to a sense that it is a valuable one - and one that perhaps I trust myself to do without tearing myself down too much.
I have never much enjoyed editing. I'm not really sure why - for that matter, I have never really wanted to re-read anything I have written after I am done with it. In fact, it is almost to the point of being something of a phobia with me.
Why is this? I'm not really sure. Someone who feels that I suffer from pride might say that I am too proud to consider the fact that I would not question that I could make a mistake. Someone who feels I suffer from insecurity might say that I have no confidence in what I wrote. Someone who feels I am lazy might say that I just don't want to finish the job. Someone who feels I am too much of a perfectionist might say I avoid it to avoid confronting the fact that I am not perfect.
My thought? A combination I believe: on the one hand the very simple belief the editing is not part of the creative process, not part of the "fun". Writing is the making of someone from other things - or in the case of writing, making something from nothing but your mind. Editing, I perceive, is not "fun": it is the crawling through of each individual character, word and phrase looking not only for direct error but an indirect phrasing or something that could be improved.
The other fact is, I believe, my underlying distrust of criticism.
I have trouble with criticism (there, I've said it). What is new, you might ask - it is not as if anyone really gets excited to receive it. True enough I suppose. Still, I have always had an issue with criticism, even if it is offered in a professional manner, even if it is offered for things that are not personal. Why is this? A combination at play again, I suppose: on the one hand a sense that everything for me is personal, that everything I do (even if it is not personal) is an extension of myself. On the other, a deep and abiding sense - fear, even - of how criticism has been used in the past, as tool not to correct and improve but to destroy.
Common enough in everyone's lives I suppose - we have all been the victim of criticism meant to do something other than improve. But I know few cases where the individual themselves is concerned that their own self-criticism is designed to destroy themselves.
I think like anything else editing is a process - not only in learning to do it, but in learning that it is not the fearsome thing you perceive it to be, and that it is possible to trust even yourself to deliver criticism which is of use rather than destructive.
I do not know that I will ever come fully to terms with editing - as I said, it is not the most entertaining part of the process. But perhaps I can at least come to a sense that it is a valuable one - and one that perhaps I trust myself to do without tearing myself down too much.
Monday, January 07, 2013
Course of Study 2013
One of the gems that Jeffrey Fox has in his book How to Become CEO: Rules for Rising to the Top is that every year one should learn about one new area. The point that he makes is not only is it a habit that all good CEOs should have - after all, one should be able to learn about a new industry or ways to better perform in the industry that one is currently in - but that it also makes for a more well rounded personality and allows a person to begin to see connections between things.
With that in mind, I have selected the course of study for 2013 to be the year of Alternative Energy.
Why Alternative Energy, you might ask? Fair enough. It's certainly not something I've ever talked about in great detail here or with anyone else. And my reasons for doing so are not the typical ones:
1) Cost: Simply put, I'm looking for ways to reduce what I spend. Utilities - electricity, gas and the cost thereof - are two factors that are controllable to some extent, not just by total amount of usage but by the generation therelf.
2) Independence: I've read enough economics and thought through the facts to realize that while I may never be able to completely divorce myself from any system (or want to), the ability to control any aspect of my life is a good one.
My first selection for the year for Off the Grid: Modern Homes+Alternate Energy by Lori Ryker. It was probably not the first book that I would have chosen to start with - but it was the first book that came through as a hold at the library.
The book was actually one of the type of the books I typically don't own: a coffee table sort of book with a short primer of details followed by a series of 6 or 7 different examples of homes that had been designed for alternative energy. It's always nice to look at pictures of what other people have created (even as I subconsciously wonder what the cost was). It was a pleasant place to begin thinking about the concepts of alternative energy and its use.
However, the one thing that did strike me was exactly how unrealized my own reasons were in the text. The book talked very little about cost or independence; instead, it dwelt more on the environmental and aesthetic reasons for considering alternative energy. That's fine, I suppose and motivates a great number of people. The thing that surprised me was that an entire market - people like me - were left virtually unaddressed. An interesting oversight or a trend in industry literature? We'll see.
My aspirations from this exercise? To acquaint myself with another area of knowledge, to be sure. Perhaps to find some small ways to begin to address my own dependence on the system. But I am also looking forward to the sheer pleasure of discovery, of learning something knew about which I know virtually nothing.
With that in mind, I have selected the course of study for 2013 to be the year of Alternative Energy.
Why Alternative Energy, you might ask? Fair enough. It's certainly not something I've ever talked about in great detail here or with anyone else. And my reasons for doing so are not the typical ones:
1) Cost: Simply put, I'm looking for ways to reduce what I spend. Utilities - electricity, gas and the cost thereof - are two factors that are controllable to some extent, not just by total amount of usage but by the generation therelf.
2) Independence: I've read enough economics and thought through the facts to realize that while I may never be able to completely divorce myself from any system (or want to), the ability to control any aspect of my life is a good one.
My first selection for the year for Off the Grid: Modern Homes+Alternate Energy by Lori Ryker. It was probably not the first book that I would have chosen to start with - but it was the first book that came through as a hold at the library.
The book was actually one of the type of the books I typically don't own: a coffee table sort of book with a short primer of details followed by a series of 6 or 7 different examples of homes that had been designed for alternative energy. It's always nice to look at pictures of what other people have created (even as I subconsciously wonder what the cost was). It was a pleasant place to begin thinking about the concepts of alternative energy and its use.
However, the one thing that did strike me was exactly how unrealized my own reasons were in the text. The book talked very little about cost or independence; instead, it dwelt more on the environmental and aesthetic reasons for considering alternative energy. That's fine, I suppose and motivates a great number of people. The thing that surprised me was that an entire market - people like me - were left virtually unaddressed. An interesting oversight or a trend in industry literature? We'll see.
My aspirations from this exercise? To acquaint myself with another area of knowledge, to be sure. Perhaps to find some small ways to begin to address my own dependence on the system. But I am also looking forward to the sheer pleasure of discovery, of learning something knew about which I know virtually nothing.
Friday, January 04, 2013
Screaming At The Top Of My Lungs
Oh, yesterday was a fine day.
Have you ever arrived home so angry you could hardly think? So angry that you come in the door and nothing seems right - that everything that would not normally bother you has become a personal source of irritation designed to provoke you even more?
It is the sort of anger that builds, one that you carefully keep under wraps all day and try to manage because it is a new year and you are really trying to make a go of things. You feel it rising and you push it back down, trying to take refuge in the things you can control or what the appropriate response that honors God is. But things keep building up - not big things as if an avalanche had suddenly buried you but small things as if someone was purposefully building a wall, brick by brick.
You don't realize the wall until after your away for a bit. Then you turn and suddenly realize that the wall is there - had been there for a while, quietly built behind you while you were trying to make a go of things. You had just missed the building of it. And the cliff that is now in front of you gives you nowhere to go.
In your frustration you try to tear the wall down - and discover a second truth, that walls built by others are often very difficult to tear down by yourself. This increases your frustration even more as your nails chip and your fingertips bloody. The anger builds as you try to get a grip, your mind gratuitously engaging in the things you would like to say which probably would not solve the problem, but would at least give you a sense of control in the situation - a sense of control that is missing now.
And then everything else simply doesn't seem right. Things that were slightly out of place become personal insults, simple errors or situations become personal plots against you. Finally you throw up your hands and decide you are going to bed early, because that is the only resolution to the situation that seems feasible.
Perhaps in bed you try to look at the situation a bit more philosophically, try to put reason and perspective to the situation, maybe even try to map out strategies to deal with it. But you find that revisiting the situation only reminds you of the wall built behind you and the cliff in front of you - and you relive the emotion all over.
Oh, yesterday was a fine day.
Have you ever arrived home so angry you could hardly think? So angry that you come in the door and nothing seems right - that everything that would not normally bother you has become a personal source of irritation designed to provoke you even more?
It is the sort of anger that builds, one that you carefully keep under wraps all day and try to manage because it is a new year and you are really trying to make a go of things. You feel it rising and you push it back down, trying to take refuge in the things you can control or what the appropriate response that honors God is. But things keep building up - not big things as if an avalanche had suddenly buried you but small things as if someone was purposefully building a wall, brick by brick.
You don't realize the wall until after your away for a bit. Then you turn and suddenly realize that the wall is there - had been there for a while, quietly built behind you while you were trying to make a go of things. You had just missed the building of it. And the cliff that is now in front of you gives you nowhere to go.
In your frustration you try to tear the wall down - and discover a second truth, that walls built by others are often very difficult to tear down by yourself. This increases your frustration even more as your nails chip and your fingertips bloody. The anger builds as you try to get a grip, your mind gratuitously engaging in the things you would like to say which probably would not solve the problem, but would at least give you a sense of control in the situation - a sense of control that is missing now.
And then everything else simply doesn't seem right. Things that were slightly out of place become personal insults, simple errors or situations become personal plots against you. Finally you throw up your hands and decide you are going to bed early, because that is the only resolution to the situation that seems feasible.
Perhaps in bed you try to look at the situation a bit more philosophically, try to put reason and perspective to the situation, maybe even try to map out strategies to deal with it. But you find that revisiting the situation only reminds you of the wall built behind you and the cliff in front of you - and you relive the emotion all over.
Oh, yesterday was a fine day.
Thursday, January 03, 2013
A Lack of Control
How does one manage when one is not in control of so much of one's life?
This is the problem that haunts me frequently - even today, as I get ready to to head out. My mind is already bubbling with the fact that it seems so little of what I face from day to day is in my control, but I am expected to live and work and produce competently within that lack of control. It is as if one has no power, but all the accountability.
Stephen Covey fails me here in this regard. He would say (as he does in The Seven Habits of Highly Responsible People) that I am responsible, that I have to power to choose my response. I may not control these situations, but I can control how I choose to act when they come up. He would then (I think) point me to the the concentric circles of "Things in my control" surrounded by the larger circle of "Things outside of my control". Concentrate on the things that are in your control, and you will expand the circle to include more of the things that are outside of your control.
My problem is that the even if I just try to manage the things that are in my control, the circle continues to contract rather than expand. The things that I can control dwindle down (really) to those things that no-one else really wants to deal with, the things (that seem, at least) to be completely unnoticeable and unwanted. Within these bounds, of course, I am told to "Exercise my authority" and "Be tenacious and dogmatic" - but being tenacious and dogmatic about the placement of the garbage can, in the end, is scarcely something that matters.
My time, I suppose, is still my own. I can still choose how to use it and invest it. I suppose even my responses remain my own, even as I recognize the fact that I can do very little to respond that will actually change my situation.
What am I missing that I could do to change the situation? Or is this simply a reality that, like it or not, I simply need to accept?
This is the problem that haunts me frequently - even today, as I get ready to to head out. My mind is already bubbling with the fact that it seems so little of what I face from day to day is in my control, but I am expected to live and work and produce competently within that lack of control. It is as if one has no power, but all the accountability.
Stephen Covey fails me here in this regard. He would say (as he does in The Seven Habits of Highly Responsible People) that I am responsible, that I have to power to choose my response. I may not control these situations, but I can control how I choose to act when they come up. He would then (I think) point me to the the concentric circles of "Things in my control" surrounded by the larger circle of "Things outside of my control". Concentrate on the things that are in your control, and you will expand the circle to include more of the things that are outside of your control.
My problem is that the even if I just try to manage the things that are in my control, the circle continues to contract rather than expand. The things that I can control dwindle down (really) to those things that no-one else really wants to deal with, the things (that seem, at least) to be completely unnoticeable and unwanted. Within these bounds, of course, I am told to "Exercise my authority" and "Be tenacious and dogmatic" - but being tenacious and dogmatic about the placement of the garbage can, in the end, is scarcely something that matters.
My time, I suppose, is still my own. I can still choose how to use it and invest it. I suppose even my responses remain my own, even as I recognize the fact that I can do very little to respond that will actually change my situation.
What am I missing that I could do to change the situation? Or is this simply a reality that, like it or not, I simply need to accept?
Wednesday, January 02, 2013
Vision
"Our culture lacks vision in almost every arena. How do you get vision? You have to be passionate about something. You must visualize the life you want to create and then be disciplined enough to get there. Really, accomplishing your dream is not so much about mechanics and opportunity as it is about character qualities: self denial, perseverance, commitment, focus." - Joel Salatin, You Can Farm
What is your vision for your life? What is my vision for mine?
More specifically, what is your - or my - vision of our life for 2013?
I know individuals who are more passionate about sports teams they watch or the state of their automobile than are passionate about something in their life that will lead them somewhere.
Salatin is right that we no longer talk in terms of vision. Vision, if anything, has come to mean a sort of metaphysical visitation - not a practical sort of thing that we can use in our daily lives.
But think for a moment: those (at least in the Bible) that walked away from a vision of God came away passionate. Isaiah in Isaiah 6, Ezekiel in Ezekiel 1 and 2 - even Peter, James and John at the Transfiguration - all walked away from their visions passionate about their calling and their God. That vision sustained them, drove them on in the face of life.
But can the same level and intensity of vision be applied now, to our own daily lives? Of course it can. It's just that we have forgotten how to do it.
Think back to a time when you were really enthusiastic about something: a new sport, a new author, a new hobby. Thoughts of it filled you at all times. You could not visualize anything that did not involve this thing. You slept it, dreamed about it, lived it.
For most of us, that is where it ends. Life has a way of overtaking our visions and enthusiasms. They don't play out as we expected or we had to get a "real" job or it did not live up to the promise that it offered. We come to believe that visions are for the young and (perhaps) foolish, that we dwell in the world of reality and practicality.
But what if we are wrong? What if is not the vision seekers that are unrealistic, but we who have allowed ourselves to believe that visions can never come true?
The reality is that every day there are individuals who are out living their visions - their dreams -while the rest of us plug along thinking that such things are simple not possible.
But apparently such things are.
We only need vision.
What is your vision for your life? What is my vision for mine?
More specifically, what is your - or my - vision of our life for 2013?
I know individuals who are more passionate about sports teams they watch or the state of their automobile than are passionate about something in their life that will lead them somewhere.
Salatin is right that we no longer talk in terms of vision. Vision, if anything, has come to mean a sort of metaphysical visitation - not a practical sort of thing that we can use in our daily lives.
But think for a moment: those (at least in the Bible) that walked away from a vision of God came away passionate. Isaiah in Isaiah 6, Ezekiel in Ezekiel 1 and 2 - even Peter, James and John at the Transfiguration - all walked away from their visions passionate about their calling and their God. That vision sustained them, drove them on in the face of life.
But can the same level and intensity of vision be applied now, to our own daily lives? Of course it can. It's just that we have forgotten how to do it.
Think back to a time when you were really enthusiastic about something: a new sport, a new author, a new hobby. Thoughts of it filled you at all times. You could not visualize anything that did not involve this thing. You slept it, dreamed about it, lived it.
For most of us, that is where it ends. Life has a way of overtaking our visions and enthusiasms. They don't play out as we expected or we had to get a "real" job or it did not live up to the promise that it offered. We come to believe that visions are for the young and (perhaps) foolish, that we dwell in the world of reality and practicality.
But what if we are wrong? What if is not the vision seekers that are unrealistic, but we who have allowed ourselves to believe that visions can never come true?
The reality is that every day there are individuals who are out living their visions - their dreams -while the rest of us plug along thinking that such things are simple not possible.
But apparently such things are.
We only need vision.
Tuesday, January 01, 2013
Happy New Year 2013
Oh helper of workers
ruler of all the good,
guard on the ramparts
and defender of the faithful,
who lifts up the lowly
and crushes the proud,
ruler of the faithful,
enemy of the impenitent,
judge of all judges,
who punishes those who err,
pure life of the living,
light and Father of lights
shining with great light,
denying to none of the hopeful
your strength and help.
I beg that me, a little man
trembling and most wretched
rowing through the infinite storm of this age,
Christ may draw after Him to the lofty
most beautiful haven of life.
- Colum Cille (Columba) of Iona (521-597 A.D.)
ruler of all the good,
guard on the ramparts
and defender of the faithful,
who lifts up the lowly
and crushes the proud,
ruler of the faithful,
enemy of the impenitent,
judge of all judges,
who punishes those who err,
pure life of the living,
light and Father of lights
shining with great light,
denying to none of the hopeful
your strength and help.
I beg that me, a little man
trembling and most wretched
rowing through the infinite storm of this age,
Christ may draw after Him to the lofty
most beautiful haven of life.
- Colum Cille (Columba) of Iona (521-597 A.D.)
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