Wednesday, December 31, 2008

New Years Eve


There was a sundial behind the old Tyson mansion in the woods near my boyhood home in Danville, Illinois. It was placed in a little nook overlooking the lake and had the inscription that can be seen in the picture above. The words were confusing, haunting, and almost scary to me back then. My best friend and I would be chasing butterflies or heading back to work on our hidden fort and I would always stop to look at that old sundial. "Grow old along with me!, I would think, That's stupid...who wants to get old anyway?"...and then I would run on.

Now, as an older man, I understand. The best is coming. The best of life and of love and of all that God and the universe have to send is ready to be received. All that is required is my open hand and open heart.

This is the final curtain call for 2008. We are called to live in this and every day fully. There is no time to wonder about yesterday or to regret our mistakes. This is our fresh moment, unsullied chance and new beginning. We have the opportunity to squeeze out every drop of the moment and let them fall where they may. Some will evaporate and some will be rainbows. It may sound silly but it is true. Live, love, laugh and be happy!

“Grow old along with me! The best is yet to be, the last of life, for which the first was made. Our times are in his hand who saith, 'A whole I planned, youth shows but half; Trust God: See all, nor be afraid!'” ~ Robert Browning

Wednesday, December 24, 2008

Christmas Eve 1914

German and Allied soldiers celebrate the 1914
Christmas truce in No Man's Land - this
photograph was considered subversive
and for many years, was censored

Jim Wallis is the founder and heart of Sojouners in Washington, DC. His writings and work have inspired me for decades now. The voice of reconcilliation and compassion that he offers is a rare gift to us all. The article that he wrote in 2002 entitled "Christmas In The Trenches" is my offering for your reflection this year.

Silent Night, by Stanley Weintraub, is the story of Christmas Eve, 1914, on the World War I battlefield in Flanders. As the German, British, and French troops facing each other were settling in for the night, a young German soldier began to sing "Stille Nacht, Heilige Nacht." Others joined in. When they had finished, the British and French responded with other Christmas carols.
Eventually, the men from both sides left their trenches and met in the middle. They shook hands, exchanged gifts, and shared pictures of their families. Informal soccer games began in what had been "no-man's-land." And a joint service was held to bury the dead of both sides.


The generals, of course, were not pleased with these events. Men who have come to know each other's names and seen each other's families are much less likely to want to kill each other. War seems to require a nameless, faceless enemy. So, following that magical night the men on both sides spent a few days simply firing aimlessly into the sky. Then the war was back in earnest and continued for three more bloody years. Yet the story of that Christmas Eve lingered - a night when the angels really did sing of peace on earth.

Folksinger John McCutcheon wrote a song about that night in Belgium, titled "Christmas in the Trenches," from the viewpoint of a young British solder. Several poignant verses are:

"The next they sang was 'Stille Nacht,' 'Tis 'Silent Night'," says I.
And in two tongues one song filled up that sky
"There's someone coming towards us!" the front line sentry cried
All sights were fixed on one lone figure coming from their side
His truce flag, like a Christmas star, shone on that plain so bright
As he bravely strode unarmed into the night.

Soon one by one on either side walked into No Man's land
With neither gun nor bayonet we met there hand to hand
We shared some secret brandy and we wished each other well
And in a flare-lit soccer game we gave 'em hell.
We traded chocolates, cigarettes, and photographs from home
These sons and fathers far away from families of their own
Young Sanders played his squeeze box and they had a violin
This curious and unlikely band of men.

Soon daylight stole upon us and France was France once more
With sad farewells we each began to settle back to war
But the question haunted every heart that lived that wondrous night
"Whose family have I fixed within my sights?"
'Twas Christmas in the trenches, where the frost so bitter hung
The frozen fields of France were warmed as songs of peace were sung
For the walls they'd kept between us to exact the work of war
Had been crumbled and were gone for evermore."

My prayer for the new year is for a nation and world where people can come out of their trenches and together sing their hopes for peace. We here at Sojourners will carry on that mission, and we invite you to continue on the journey with us.

Tuesday, December 16, 2008

Merry Christmas 2008


"I am as light as a feather, I am as happy as an angel, I am as merry as a school-boy. I am as giddy as a drunken man. A Merry Christmas to every-body!”

These are the words of Ebenezer Scrooge given by Charles Dickens in his timeless tale, “A Christmas Carol” published in 1843. I am one of those sentimental, schmaltzy guys who puts on the classic 1951 movie “Scrooge” starring Alastair Sim and watch all by myself so that I can tear up at the end without embarrassment. I do the same with “It’s A Wonderful Life”, “The Cheaters” (re-released this year by Turner by the way), “Miracle on 34th Street” and others. My family tired of my ritual long ago…so part of my viewing alone is to avoid the sighs and grumbles. No problem. They just don’t fall into the category of avid traditionalists like me and I don’t expect them to. Anyway, Scrooge continues to be my favorite without peer. It has long been my Christmas companion (the 1938 version was my first childhood television Scrooge…but it does not compare). The message that comes to me each year with Scrooge is one of conversion to happiness and generosity. It is a message that we are always hungry to hear.

Happiness has come to me in countless Christmas memories this year as well as the promise of making new ones. My friends and family are making plans to gather all over the country. Bonita and I will be visiting our son, Steven and Mary Jane in Memphis and then heading down to Orlando for the Capital One Bowl on New Years Day. My daughter Courtney and Jon are trying to get down to the warm Florida poolside during the holidays. Daughter Kristy announced her engagement this fall. My Danville gang, the JCOS, gathered in November with me and celebrated. David Gross and Patti have stopped by to visit at our rental home in Florida. Come on down y’all. No kidding! I caught up with Ed and Sharon Williams and had a good reminiscence. Ed has the spirit of Grand Dad Jones in every word he speaks. Joan French is having a grand reunion in Peoria to celebrate 80 years. We are all excited about that gathering (“a good time will be had by all”). I have been married for almost 14 years to the love of my life. You just can’t beat it!

Generosity has presented itself in the unselfish work that I have witnessed at Covenant House in Orlando. If you are looking for a way to help kids that are horribly marginalized and troubled…kids that are ignored and forgotten…please send them a few bucks. It will be used well and appreciated greatly. The particulars are Covenant House Orlando, 5931 E Colonial Dr., Orlando, FL 32807, (407) 426-7888. Scrooge was confronted by the Spirit of Christmas Present who exposed two children beneath his cloak “they cling to me, appealing from their fathers. This boy is Ignorance. This girl is Want. Beware them both, and all of their degree, but most of all beware this boy.” It is a good time to be generous, isn’t it?

So, I send my love and the spirit of happiness and generosity to you all. May the joy of Christmas be with us always. Dare I say it? In the words of Tiny Tim…"God bless us every one.”

Wednesday, November 5, 2008

The 44th President of the United States

The largest percentage of voters since 1908 elected the 44th President of The United States on November 4, 2008. There have been fifty three general elections that have chosen these forty four leaders since 1788. Thirty five of those elections have been held since the December 6, 1865 adoption of the Thirteenth Amendment of The Constitution which officially abolished and continues to prohibit slavery. We have been waiting one hundred and forty three years for the material realization of racial equality in this country represented by the election of a person of color to the highest office in the land. It has been coming. It has been a long time coming. The change that we had been waiting and working for came. It was evidenced by the pride and enthusiasm in my younger daughter’s voice over the phone after she left Grant Park in Chicago last night. It was heralded by an email sent to me from an African American woman and friend in the South Carolina Low Country which said “I am so ELATED AND OVERWHELMED WITH JOY AND PEACE this morning”. It was celebrated by a white business woman who sent me a simple “YEAH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” with a smiley face icon. So this is it. We have all arrived together at this place in history.

It is not a time to sit back and turn the work over to President-elect Barack Obama. We are called to reconciliation with our rivals. We are called to the difficult task of building and actualizing the dream. It means active participation not unlike that collective effort of the “Greatest Generation” during the Great Depression and World War II. We are charged with making hope real.

Can we do it? You know the answer. Yes We Can!

Tuesday, November 4, 2008

Our Right To Vote

The Final page of the Voting Rights Act, signed by President of The United States Lyndon B. Johnson, the President of the Senate, and the Speaker of the House.

This is one of the most significant times in the history of our country. Today is the day when the struggles for equality and the fullness of the promise of the right to vote and participate in our government come to fruition. Today we will elect a man of color as President or a woman to serve as Vice President. We have come a long way. Six amendments to the United States Constitution, in one way or another, deal with the rights of the people in this country to vote. No other issue commands such attention from our government.

My mother was nine years old when the 19th Amendment was ratified on August 18, 1920. Her mother, my dear and beloved “Noie” was 29 when she and millions of other women voted for the first time. She was denied the chance to vote in the 1912 election between William H. Taft, Woodrow Wilson and Teddy Roosevelt. Then she was denied a part in the 1916 election between Woodrow Wilson and Charles Evans Hughes. Nora Helen Gibbs Baum (“Noie”) did vote in 1920. She cast her first for Warren G. Harding, Republican Candidate for President of The United States. It is widely held that Harding’s landslide in 1920 was in a large part due to the enormous turnout of women at the polls. The reconstituted Republican Party (often pronounced “dead” by the press due to Theodore Roosevelt’s bolting from The GOP to form the Progressive Party) was resurrected. Things had changed forever with the amendment that affirms "The right of citizens of the United States to vote shall not be denied or abridged by the United States or by any State on account of sex’.

I was born into a political family and practically grew up in Republican Headquarters. My mother took this right to vote very seriously. She worked hard at every election of any kind for most of her life as did all of her female cousins from Indianola, Illinois. We lived in The Land of Lincoln and, by God, the party of Lincoln was going to win the day. Period. One of her cousins had a husband who was a GOP State Senator. I grew up believing that there was something sacred about voting. It is embedded in me. Never have I missed the opportunity to exercise my franchise. Never. No election is too small and no cause too trivial.

We often forget that The Civil Rights movement was mostly about voting. It was not until President Johnson signed the Voting Rights Act on August 6, 1965 that the 15th Amendment was given the teeth it lacked since ratification in 1870. Somewhat less than half of my childhood was spent in Florida. We had a home near Ft. Lauderdale. The experience of living in both the North and the South gave me an interesting view of how the system worked. I was ushered out of a “Colored” bathroom when I was eight years old…naïve to the fact that we were not allowed to pee with people who had a different color of skin. It made me angry. We were not allowed to drink from the same water fountains in the South. Worse than that…few who were really affected could vote to change it. The polls were taxed and tests were administered to limit or eliminate the ability of “colored people” to protest such treatment or elect representatives to do so. Ninety-five percent of African American voters, free for the first time to vote without fear of being turned away, cast ballots for Hubert Humphrey in 1968. This number of new voters might have changed the election in other years. But 1968 was not to be the time. The situation in America was fractured beyond political recognition. Richard M. Nixon would carry the day by convincing Southern voters that he would be a “law and order” president who would keep them safe. He appealed to a “silent majority” which, in The South, meant white people. It was, however, to be different in 1976. Jimmy Carter was elected the 39th President of The United States by the smallest margin since 1916. His slim victory is attributed by many to be due to the turnout of black voters in the deep South. Things had changed forever with the amendment that affirms “The right of citizens of the United States to vote shall not be denied or abridged by the United States or by any State on account of race, color, or previous condition of servitude”.

The 92nd Congress enacted the 26th Amendment which was then signed by President Nixon on July 1, 1971. People between 18 and 20 who had been doing most of the fighting and dieing in Southeast Asia could finally vote. It was a grand day for us. I voted for my first time on November 7, 1972. The new law didn’t make it in time for an earlier vote for me. There were more presidential candidates on that ballot than I have ever seen. Richard Nixon, George McGovern, George Wallace, Scoop Jackson and a whole herd of others. I will never forget the sense of awe that I experienced. It was a real right of passage. I felt like a real adult for the first time. A full citizen. The vote of young people has been volatile and unreliable. Turnout has been spotty. It was not until this year that college aged people grabbed the reigns of their power to shape the government. They have worked and are voting in record numbers. It does not matter who they are supporting. The important part is that they are engaged in the process. Things had changed forever with the amendment that affirms “The right of citizens of the United States, who are 18 years of age or older, to vote shall not be denied or abridged by the United States or by any state on account of age”.

A young racially mixed man with a funny name and a woodsy woman from Alaska are at center stage today. How can we help but be proud? This is the United States of America. It can only happen here. Voting is sacred. My mother was right about that. Double lines in Greenville, SC at noon on November 4th are one and one half hours long. That has never happened. So go out and do it. You have a responsibility. To borrow a phrase…I’m Fired Up and Ready to Go…(not to tip my hand or anything).

Wednesday, October 22, 2008

My Most Unforgettable Character

When I was a kid, Readers Digest could always be found in our bathroom (Dad called it The Library). The little magazine book had monthly feature departments, such as "Toward More Picturesque Speech" and "Drama in Real Life." Readers could participate with the submission of humorous and joke fillers as well as a section called "My Most Unforgettable Character". I thought that someday I would write a story about my grandfather or my dad. They were certainly worthy subjects…and still are. I have written of them often. It occurred to me this morning that I have never written about Steve Magin. It surprised me really. He is, in many ways, my most unforgettable character. I would like to share the story with you.

Steve was born on March 13, 1950 in Danville, Illinois. Danville certainly qualified as The American Heartland kind of town. It was surrounded by miles and miles of rich farmland and was the home of burgeoning industries such as a General Motors Foundry. His parents were unusual in that his mother actually worked outside of the house at The VA Hospital. Mr. Magin was an engineer at the local TV station. They were Roman Catholic and their three kids attended Catholic Schools. I lived across the street and down the block from The Magins. We were the same age. It still baffles me that we did not meet until we were eight years old. Even when a new kid named Gary Cox moved in just two doors down from Steve in Second Grade we did not meet. Gary and I both attended Edison Grade School and became fast friends. We watched him over the fence once or twice but never went over to play. There are probably several reasons. They were not Protestants, we went to different schools, our parents were from different social circles with different values. Who knows! The fact is that we did meet. It was a summer day in 1958. My friends and I were playing baseball in The Golden’s side yard as usual when I saw two kids coming down the alley towards us. They just stood there and watched. I don’t know what we might have said, but one of them bent down, picked up a rock and threw it at us. Not all that fair because the alley was covered with rocks and we had no supply. We scattered to a neighbors house and got a bunch of apples while Scott Golden held up the battle. By the time the rock and apple fight was done we were getting called to come home for dinner by inpatient mothers. I was alone the next day when one of the kids came back down the alley. I greeted him by saying “Hi! Where’s your brother?” This was probably more to make certain that the kid I imagined was his brother wasn’t hiding in wait with another barrage of ammunition. He explained that his brother was away at school or something and that the boy from yesterday was a friend of his and not with him right then. It appeared safe so we approached each other, exchanged names and started talking about things that eight year olds talk about. It was the beginning of our life-long friendship that now spans fifty years. What a journey! Steve and I have shared every milestone and mishap. We have been there to listen, laugh and cry with one another. We have been high (in more ways than one) and we have been low. A man named Pavel Florensky said “Friendship love knows a friend not by his outward pose, not by the dress of heroism, but by his smile, by his quiet talk, by his weaknesses, by how he treats people ordinary human life, by how he eats and sleeps". I think that sums up the great gift of our long relationship. I could write volumes about the friendship itself. My intention here, though is to tell you about the unusual character of Steve Magin.

Steve has chosen to live simply. He had every opportunity to embrace The American Dream and live it out to the fullest. He was valedictorian of his private Catholic High School and graduated from The University of Illinois at the top of his class. He was a brilliant mathematician and a talented psychology student. His grasp of statistics made him a natural researcher. He was hired by The United States Department of Defense and became an important procurement officer. Steve was courted by several defense contractors and could have “written his own ticket”. This was not to be. There is a kind of spiritual morality that flows deeply through this guy. It is not the kind of stiff morality that we are used to seeing and hearing. Not the righteous, all knowing religious type that preaches its’ brand of salvation from the pulpit on Sundays or on Christian radio. His lives a peaceful, non-violent, compassionate life that is an observable testimony. Steve has spent and continues to spend his time as a kind of “servant leader’. He believes that all life is sacred and this belief is lived out in everything he does. It is not the work that he did with Educators for Social Responsibility, his peace activism, tax resistance or various “listening projects” that define him. He may be defined by a life lived for others. He has cared for his parents and relatives in long sicknesses. He counsels those who are struggling with every kind of problem imaginable in his beloved North Carolina mountain communities without professional charge. He freely gives his time and ear to anyone who needs him. But even more than all of this…he is better defined by his choice to live in solidarity with those who are impoverished.

Steve Magin has lived in abject poverty for more than a quarter century. He has chosen to do without the material comforts that we have come to believe are necessities. His homes have often been rent free or bartered. They frequently do not have running water, electricity or indoor plumbing. He chops wood for heat and cooking on an old “cook stove”. He labors in the fields, does landscaping, prepares taxes and other odd jobs to supply him with basic food and transportation. He has never owned a car that was worth much more than a couple hundred dollars. This self imposed marginalization allows him to identify with those who do not or cannot access the wealth of our modern society. He also lives like he does to enlighten all of us who know him and all who may encounter him with the wisdom that we do not have to strive for more and more…that we can do with and can enjoy life with less.

I believe that Gandhi is correct in his assertion that “Man becomes great exactly to the degree in which he works for the welfare of his fellow-men”. If this is true, then Steve has attained greatness. He shows us that it is possible to live simply and in service to others which enables us to have the courage to take whatever steps are appropriate to do the same, in some small way, ourselves. This Steve Magin is quite a person and quite a hero. He is my friend. He is my most unforgettable character.

Tuesday, October 21, 2008

What Makes Life Good?


I was asked by Steven, my terrific step-son, to write a short piece on "what makes life good" for a class that he is taking. Some of the things that I have included are restatements of previous entries. Still...I think they are worth remembering. I love the poem that is included. It was given to me by Alice Richards, a friend of the family. Alice was one of those people who really lived life with gusto. I will never forget her.

What are the things that make life good? My grandfather, Roy Jones, was one who seems to be able to grasp this better than most. He was saying “Life Is Good” as a motto long before it became a slogan. He was able to say it with conviction in the face of great happiness and extreme tragedy in his life. He lost everything that he owned in The Great Depression and lived to see his beloved wife die. A son committed suicide and a daughter struggled and succumbed to TB. A beautiful granddaughter was murdered. Still, he maintained his optimism and love of life. Still he said “Life Is Good!” It is hard for most of us to understand this. How does one maintain such a perspective? I think that it is a matter putting first things first. What really is important? An old man up in the mountains in North Carolina once said to me that he “never saw a U-Haul behind a hearse”. That is true, isn’t it? We put so much emphasis on financial success, the accumulation of possessions, influence and prestige. These, in the long run, mean absolutely nothing. When the scorecard is finally tallied, the only thing that matters is love. Did I love…and was I loved? Were there people who delighted in me and people in whom I was delighted? Did I laugh and celebrate with my loved ones? Did I take time to slow down and appreciate the beauty of everything around me? There was a great little poem called “I’d Pick More Daisies” by Nadine Stair (when she was 85). It goes like this:

If I had my life to live over,

I'd try to make more mistakes next time.

I would relax.
I would limber up.
I would be sillier than I have on this trip.
I would be crazier. I would be less hygienic.
I would take more chances,
I would take more trips.
I would climb more mountains, swim more rivers, and watch more sunsets.
I would burn more gasoline.
I would eat more ice cream and less beans.
I would have more actual troubles and fewer imaginary ones.

You see, I am one of those people who lives prophylactically and sensibly and sanely, hour after hour, day after day.

Oh, I have had my moments
And if I had it to do over again, I'd have more of them.

In fact, I'd try to have nothing else. Just moments…one after another instead of living so many years ahead each day. I have been one of those people who never go anywhere without a thermometer, a hot water bottle, a gargle, a raincoat, and a parachute.

If I had to do it over again,

I would go places and do things.
I'd travel lighter than I have.
If I had my life to live over,
I would start barefooted earlier in the spring and stay that way later in the fall.
I would play hooky more.
I wouldn't make such good grades except by accident.
I would ride on merry-go-rounds.

I'd pick more daisies!

My Dad said that the things we take so seriously today won’t mean a thing in a hundred years. So here’s what sounds good to me. How about a nice glass of wine at sunset on the beach...sitting next to my darling wife…..joined by a couple of great friends…..watching our kids or future grandkids playing in the surf…..flying kites…..with the sounds of some old melody coming from a band in the distance…..getting up to dance a slow one together! Now that’s good. Who loves ya baby?

Tuesday, October 14, 2008

Changing Attitudes & Latitudes

The news of the day has been filled with catastrophic economic forecasts, anguish and the predictable finger pointing on all sides. The years of work that I have done with kids and adults in trouble makes this mind set seem somehow normal. My clients are experiencing situations that have shaken their foundations and turned their lives upside down. The first thing that we try to adjust, after crisis intervention, is attitude and outlook. This is a realignment of self concept and perspective…and it is critical to change and empowerment.

Developing a positive perspective and positive thinking result in a demeanor that anticipates successful outcomes, happiness, joy, bliss and good health. It is important to visualize and verbalize the constructive and beneficial aspects of every situation. Picture the way that you want things to turn out and move forward as if it has already happened. This will remove roadblocks and negate the comments of those who might not support or appreciate your efforts. Put a positive spin on things by practicing affirmative self talk.

Examples of this might be saying things like:
  • This is an opportunity to learn something new!
  • There is a solution to every problem!
  • I’m going to take a chance!
  • There is another way to open up a channel of communications!
  • Let’s look at this from a different angle!
Remember to stay away from self blame, avoid making things out as a disaster and that few things are black or white. The Zen Master said that the sky is blue regardless of what we see. He is right. Shades of grey and storms won’t last forever. Hidden behind the clouds is the blue sky. Mishaps and interruptions occasionally block the brilliance of our lives. But, like the rainy weather, will clear away so we can open up to a brighter horizon. I am living and working in Florida right now. It rains a lot…and just before it clears…there is frequently a rainbow. You can count on things getting better. It helps if you participate in the process.

Friday, October 3, 2008

Fiscal Flight


We are awaiting the decisions of our legislators in respect to the country’s economy. There is great angst and controversy surrounding the best strategy for solving the situation. Each side has arguments with merit. Our future and stability rely on putting aside partisan politics combined with a rolling up of our collective sleeves to quickly find short and long term answers to our crisis.

It is important to try not to get discouraged when we find ourselves facing such overwhelming obstacles. It can be easy to feel stuck. Outside forces of life seem to be creating circumstances preventing us from solving our problems. It is easy to blame everyone and everything outside of ourselves. The first course of action is to take a good hard look inside. Personal responsibility for our own financial dilemma must be taken into consideration. Choices that we,as individuals, have made can be corrected. Choices that our nation has made can be corrected as well. The second thing that we must do is to be decisive. It is amazing how often we can get in our own way without even being aware that we are doing so. We cannot afford to STAY stuck.

We are a great people with a sound system of government. It will not fail unless we lose confidence in our ability to persist and endure. We have important things to do. The biggest mistake we can make is to take no action.

Wednesday, September 24, 2008

Three Gifts

I was given the gift of perspective yesterday. As a matter of fact, there were three gifts.

The first was received during a visit to Covenant House in Orlando. My intention was to volunteer some time helping kids in trouble. That will most probably happen once or twice a week starting in the near future. I fully grasped what I was in for as far as facing the enormity of difficulties and challenges that Covenant House kids deal with every day. They are children who find themselves homeless and often cast away. As such, they have done anything imaginable… and perhaps unimaginable…to survive. This I knew. What I did not realize was how deeply spiritual such a shelter (better called sanctuary) could be. I am not talking about religiously driven at all. Almost every service for homeless folks is sponsored by a church group of some kind. People in residence are often required to avail themselves of the worship and teachings of the parent organization. Not so with Covenant House. It has roots and affiliation with the Roman Catholics but that connection is never part or parcel of the services provided for the kids. They have a spiritual director and offer retreats…but are completely ecumenical in nature. The perspective that I gained was that with all of the pain and struggle there was a deep sense of serenity and love in that place of sanctuary. Lives and outlooks are transformed by people who choose to act out of love rather than fear and with kindness rather than anger. There is no judgment. There seem to be joyous rather than embittered people there. There is a feeling of generosity as opposed to the covetousness that you might expect.

The second gift was received unexpectedly through the miracle of email. I have been blessed with some friends that have been with me since grade school. We have decades of history between us. The political season sparked some interesting, funny and challenging exchanges of electronic thoughts. One of the guys, Joe, decided to expand the discussion to a network of other old friends with whom he communicates. So, without notice, an email was received that had names of several guys who I had not heard from or really thought of in years. All of them go way back into my childhood. The unanticipated reunion was a tremendous treat for me. I more deeply appreciate the presence of friends than ever before. Years of distant separation mean little. The gem that is friendship cannot be overvalued. New friends and acquaintances are great. But nothing compares to old friends. They are family.

The third gift of perspective was given to me by my dear wife. She is a lifelong teacher of kids with special needs. Her tough times are never about her students but surround the administrative folks, co-workers and often parents. She is fiercely dedicated to her pupils. They have her as an advocate for as long as five or six years in her high school contained classroom setting. My admiration for her and for her work is great. I have never known anyone who would go to bat, fight for understanding and battle the system like she does. Bonita was relating the most current struggle with people in charge who were more concerned with protocol than the welfare of one of her kids. She was willing to do what was right in advocacy for the boy at the very risk of losing her job. I am so proud of her…and was reminded of yet another facet of her delightful nature. She is the love of my life.

So there are the three gifts from yesterday. It feels like Christmas.

Wednesday, September 10, 2008

A September 11 Perspective



This article about September 11, 2001 was written by Mr. Cornel Nistorescu and published under the title 'C'ntarea Americii, (meaning: 'Ode To America ') in the Romanian newspaper Evenimentulzilei (meaning: 'The Daily Event' or 'News of the Day') As we remember the tragedy of that September day in 2001 and recall the great suffering of our nation let us also celebrate the personal freedom that we share in The United States of America;
~An Ode to America ~
Why are Americans so united? They would not resemble one another even if you painted them all one color! They speak all the languages of the world and form an astonishing mixture of civilizations and religious beliefs.
Still, the American tragedy turned three hundred million people into a hand put on the heart.Nobody rushed to accuse the White House, the Army, or the Secret Service that they are only a bunch of losers.
Nobody rushed to empty their bank accounts.
Nobody rushed out onto the streets nearby to gape about.
Instead the Americans volunteered to donate blood and to give a helping hand.
After the first moments of panic, they raised their flag over the smoking ruins, putting on T-shirts, caps and ties in the colors of the national flag. They placed flags on buildings and cars as if in every place and on every car a government official or the president was passing. On every occasion, they started singing: 'God Bless America!'
I watched the live broadcast and rerun after rerun for hours listening to the story of the guy who went down one hundred floors with a woman in a wheelchair without knowing who she was, or of the Californian hockey player, who gave his life fighting with the terrorists and prevented the plane from hitting a target that could have killed other hundreds or thousands of people.
How on earth were they able to respond united as one human being? Imperceptibly, with every word and musical note, the memory of some turned into a modern myth of tragic heroes. And with every phone call, millions and millions of dollars were put into a collection aimed at rewarding not a man or a family, but a spirit, which no money can buy.
What on earth can unite the Americans in such a way? Their land? Their history? Their economic power? Money?
I tried for hours to find an answer, humming songs and murmuring phrases with the risk of sounding commonplace, I thought things over, I reached but only one conclusion...
Only freedom can work such miracles.
Cornel Nistorescu

Thursday, September 4, 2008

No Time For Negativity

The challenges and opportunities that face us in these complicated times cannot be met by using devisive smug sarcasm or sardonic humor. The politicians that are seeking leadership positions in The United States should not stoop to such tactics in these times. I find it impossible to imagine Abraham Lincoln, Franklin Roosevelt or John F. Kennedy wasting valuable time plotting ways to insult or injure rivals when the most important issues of their time were facing them. Lord Kames of England said that no person did a designed injury to another but at the same time did greater to himself. Honesty and humility are qualities that are in short supply. They are character traits that we must demand in this political season. Our new leaders will guide us through the storm or allow us to perish in its’ wake.

Monday, September 1, 2008

Labor Day & Honoring Labor

It is Labor Day. All of these holidays are starting to look the same nowadays. Backyard cookouts and fireworks made it feel like The Fourth of July! It is a good time for all of us to look at the state of labor in this country. We are not doing very well. Working people are struggling and poverty is increasing. Labor Unions have been virtually powerless since President Reagan hired scabs to disempower Air Traffic Controllers in 1981. Big business has done well and employers are unafraid to overwork and to underpay. The results have been catastrophic.

Nearly one-fifth of all children (17.6%) live in poverty; about two thirds have one or more working parent. Since 1992, the share of poor children with at least one parent working full-time has increased by 60 percent.

According to the Current Population Survey conducted by the Census Bureau in 2005, nearly 16 million people had incomes below half of the poverty level: less than $9,903 for a family of four or $5,080 for an individual. The poverty threshold in 2005 was $19,971 for a family of four or $9,973 for an individual in 2005. According to a report by McClatchy Newspapers the percentage of people living in severe poverty has reached a 32-year high. The analysis found that the number of severely poor people has grown by 26 percent from 2000 to 2005.

In 2005, 24 percent of all workers had year-round, full-time work that did not pay enough to keep a family of four above the poverty threshold. The Bureau of Labor Statistics has calculated that the share of jobs requiring a high school diploma or less will remain virtually stable in the next 7 years at around 47% percent. Although more jobs will be created in those years, according to the Bureau of Labor Standards, 18 of the 30 fastest growing job categories pay low or very low wages and are the least likely to provide employer-based benefits such as health care, sick leave, day care benefits, and educational benefits.

At the 350 largest public companies, the average CEO takes one hour and fifty-five minutes to earn the annual pay of a full-time minimum-wage worker.

So as we celebrate with Labor Day Sales, Jerry Lewis and the closeness of family and friends today let's honor the people who work by promising to deliver real change this year. We have a voice. We have the right to vote.

Friday, August 8, 2008

The Olympic Games


The Beijing Olympic Games begin today, 08/08/2008. The number "8" is traditionally associated with wealth and prosperity in Asian cultures. It is also, in its' laying down form, the symbol of eternity. This date only occurs once every 100 years...and it will be the only time in most of our lives that the combination of numbers will occur. What a celebration of life! Not in terms of money and possessions...but the real riches that are offered to us on this once-in-a-lifetime occasion. We already possess the material wealth and prosperity that it takes to feed a hungry world and to eliminate much illness. Eternity asks us to participate. I think it is important to allow the spectacular gathering of the world's best athletes to serve as a symbol of hope for cooperation. We will always have political differences and there is certainly plenty of human suffering to showcase in the world today. But this event shows that we CAN participate as one world and that there ARE possibilities. Let's spend some of this time NOT taking ourselves so seriously and witness the games for what they are. Let's give thanks for the wealth and prosperity that has been given to us and seek more ways to distribute it to those in need.

Friday, July 4, 2008

The Fourth of July

It is a grand celebration of independence and freedom that we offer on The Fourth of July! We have struggled for two hundred and thirty two years in an effort to live-out and to improve upon ideas and dreams of those who courageously stood in defiance of tyranny. We continue to evolve and, as we do so, become the realization of those hopes and passions that drove our ancestors. We create new and beautiful art and literature, music and dance. We advance medicine, science, and technology. We work for social justice and peace. We fight and die in foreign lands. We welcome strangers from borders that are increasingly guarded. We labor long hours at jobs that consume us in order to raise new generations of patriots. We stand for civil rights and The Bill of Rights. We engage in politics and unpopular causes despite the leanings of the majority. We worship or chose not to worship without fear of reprisal.

This is The United States of America. May we never cease to appreciate who we are. May we never cease to desire change. May we always strive for improvement.

Saturday, June 14, 2008

Tim Russert ~ “Timmy We Hardly Knew Ye”


I was taking a look at my email yesterday...quickly deleting the accumulating garbage...when I saw one from NCforObama entitled Tim Russert Has Died. My thought was that "this is not funny". I followed the link to find out that it was true. Tim and I were both born in 1950. He was not someone that I ever met in person but felt like he was one of my high school friends. Routines on Sunday morning revolved around being promptly present with breakfast in front of Tim at 9:00. We never called it Meet The Press. It was a call from from my wife at the porch to the back yard where I was working saying "Tim will be on in ten minutes...hurry up!". It almost makes me feel silly now in a way. We sound like my parents. But the truth is...Tim Russert was THAT important. His interviews and discussions were revealing and allowed us to use our own brains. They educated us without dosing us with liberal or conservative values. He was a good natured, sports loving, family man...from my generation. He spoke the truth. Kenneth O’Donnell and David Powers wrote a book of memories about President Kennedy called “Johnny We Hardly Knew Ye” using the title of an old Irish ballad for the title. Here, in Tim Russert, is a fine Irish American life called home too soon as well. Timmy…We Hardly Knew Ye. There are none like him...and we will miss him greatly.

Sunday, April 27, 2008

Finding Delight


I was having an especially difficult time adjusting to my life as a divorced man in early recovery many years ago. My mind was racing, my new job was confusing and I was filled with regret and doubt. It was a beautiful mid spring day in Champaign, Illinois and I decided to get out of the office and take a walk on the downtown mall. Just as I rounded the corner a voice greeted me with a cheerful "How-do" (An old Midwestern hello). I looked up to see a weathered homeless man sitting on a bench in the middle of what used to be the main street. "Hello", I said. He went on..."You know, I used to sit here when this was a street and I would watch the cars go up one side of the road and back down the other. Now I get to sit here and watch the people just walk and talk and walk up one side of this mall and down the other side." I looked at him blankly and said "Oh?". He grinned toothlessly with warm understanding eyes and said words that I have never forgotten. "I delight in it...I delight in it". My spirits lifted. I noticed that the air was cleaned with a morning shower and the bright prairie sun glistened. He grasped what I had failed to grasp. He understood how simply delightful even the most simple things can be...and are.

Meister Eckhart, the thirteenth century Dominican mystic theologian said "wisdom consists in doing the next thing that you have to do, doing it with your whole heart, and finding delight in doing it". Such wisdom escapes us in our daily journey all too often. The picture that I attached to the blog is one that I took on a recent trip to Maui. It is on a road that leads to a delightful part of the island that is less visited than the other parts. Well worth the slow and winding trip with multiple stops and pullovers. No hurry, no worries...just hang loose. Delight in it today.

Sunday, March 23, 2008

Expectations & Shakeups


Probably the most amazing thing about Easter and about Recovery is the reversal of expectations. The situation on Good Friday and Holy Saturday is stark and raw. Nothing is going to change this reality. People and their families who are in the whirlwind of addiction can imagine no end to the downward spiral that is smashing and destroying everything in its path. You wake up in the morning with expectations that everything is going to be the same and the most amazing thing has happened. There is an empty tomb. The one who was dead is alive. And even better than that…everything is going to be okay. Better than okay!

Who’d ‘a thunk it? Who would believe it? In one brush stroke the world view changes from black and white to color. It is like the scene from the Wonderful Wizard of Oz when the film changes from Kansas to Munchkinland. Color everywhere. The storm is over. The witch is dead. How did it all happen? The truth is that things had been set in motion for some time but we were unaware. The miracle was waiting for today. The miracle is today.

We respond to this shakeup with awe. The new world at our feet is boundless. The promises are fulfilled in each step forward. Recovery from addiction and salvation from bondage are virtually one in the same. Senator Barack Obama talks about the Audacity of Hope. There is also an Audacity of Easter and an Audacity of Recovery. Life is new and we have the power of change in every step that we take.

Saturday, March 22, 2008

Holy Saturday ~ Developing An Ability To Grieve


I wrote last year about the darkness of pathless places. Holy Saturday brings us here, as it always does, to look into the depth of emptiness. Why? Most of the contemporary Christian churches diminish or just ignore this day. We crowd it in to a passion play and move quickly to the happy ending. It is hard enough to deal with the tragedy of death and horror of the ordeal of Jesus’ path. It makes it even worse to have to sit and wait, in the unrelenting darkness of grief that comes with Holy Saturday. We just can’t seem to come to terms with it.

Our culture cannot tolerate or honor sustained grief. We demand that the business of it move along and get done. Our patience with those who suffer wears thin and we want them to “get over it”. This inability to allow grief to process is powerful force that plays a major role in much of the depression and chemical dependence that I treat every day in our outpatient clinic. It lies at the bottom of unresolved emotions and unfulfilled actions that have been repressed in a desire to make people believe that “everything is okay”.

We do not always have to be left with comforting words. Sometimes we have to be joined in silence and allowed to wail. There comes a time when the harsh reality of pain, loss and suffering must be experienced. Lincoln understood this as he gave his address at Gettysburg. Whitman grasped it as he wrote “O Captain! My Captain!” A writer named Adolofo Quezada lost a young adult son and lamented his “dreams forever unfulfilled”. After a near breakdown, he came to believe that if he allowed himself to let go and experience all that comes of grief, then and only then, would he find the comfort of new life.

Keeping Quiet ~ by Pablo Neruda

Now we will count to twelve
and we will all keep still.

For once on the face of the earth
let's not speak in any language,
let's stop for one second,
and not move our arms so much.

It would be an exotic moment
without rush, without engines,
we would all be together
in a sudden strangeness.

Fishermen in the cold sea
would not harm whales
and the man gathering salt
would look at his hurt hands.

Those who prepare green wars,
wars with gas, wars with fire,
victory with no survivors,
would put on clean clothes
and walk about with their brothers
in the shade, doing nothing.

What I want should not be confused
with total inactivity.
Life is what it is about;
I want no truck with death.

If we were not so single-minded
about keeping our lives moving,
and for once could do nothing,
perhaps a huge silence
might interrupt this sadness
of never understanding ourselves
and of threatening ourselves with death.
Perhaps the earth can teach us
as when everything seems dead
and later proves to be alive.

Now I'll count up to twelve
and you keep quiet and I will go.

Pablo Neruda (1904-1973), "Keeping Quiet"
Extravagaria (translated by Alastair Reid)
Jonathan Cape, London, 1972, pp.27-29

Friday, March 21, 2008

Feed My Sheep...A Holy Week Reflection


The story of Holy Thursday and early morning Good Friday are so filled with our human experience. It is hard not to identify with what is happening here because it is a story of success, celebration, love, bitterness, confusion, resentment, fear, anger and sadness. The full range of experience is contained in some twelve hours. The most incredible part for me, however, is that even this story ends in complete and unconditional forgiveness. It is among my favorite images.

At the end of the day in all of his human weakness and frailty, Peter denies and betrays his best friend. Not once, but three times. It has been offered up that the third time was in earshot of Jesus and that he turned to meet the eyes his brother. Peter must have expected sad disappointment in that gaze… or some fire of condemnation. Rather, those eyes were filled with compassion, love and understanding. There is a Russian Icon of Jesus that captures that moment which can be found in a book called “Behold The Beauty of The Lord” by Henri Nouwen. I am so moved by this painting. Peter retreats in shame. His forgiveness is reinforced several days later by a risen Christ who recalls the three denials with three questions, “Do you love me?” When these questions are followed by the directive, “Feed my Sheep”, Peter is given charge of the followers.

This is the powerful forgiveness and charge that is given to us today. We are called regardless of who or what we are. Called to rise above that which is ordinary and easy. Called to be useful to others. Called to service. We are frail, broken, tragic and lost…but in the final analysis…forgiven and loved. Forgiven and loved beyond any limitations of our thinking and imagination. This is a truth that we can all celebrate.

Friday, January 11, 2008

Slow Down You Move Too Fast


“Those who dwell among the beauties and mysteries of the earth are never alone or weary of life” ~ Rachel Carson

We are fascinated by a little inch worm making his way along a twig, a frog sitting on a lily pad, the patterns of frost on the window when we are children. The beautiful details are everywhere and we lie on the front lawn and marvel at them. Clouds have shapes that turn in to Mickey Mouse. Birds all make different songs for us to imitate. We go inside and our parents ask “What have you been doing?” and we can’t even begin to tell them. Don’t they KNOW ?

The problem is that the adults have mostly forgotten. They are too busy with jobs and shopping…cooking and cleaning… being responsible for something or another…to slow down and appreciate the mysteries and miracles around them. They grew up and have taken the details for granted. They think that there is not enough time. A friend told me that she needs peace in her life. Peace is all around us. We only have to lie down on the front lawn to witness it’s awe.

How can I slow down and savor life today?

Tuesday, January 1, 2008

Happy New Year



"The tumult and the shouting dies;
The captains and the kings depart:
Still stands Thine ancient sacrifice,
An humble and a contrite heart.”
~ Rudyard Kipling (Recessional Hymn)


It is a new year. Our calendar turns again if only to remind us that we have an opportunity. We may envision a new beginning and enjoin our hopes, dreams and resolutions with those of so many others who are doing the very same thing today. This is the day that we can see the crossroads at which we stand and make a decision that will change the course of our lives. This is the day.

The New Year is the perfect time to ask myself two burning questions:

• When all is said and done...What is important?

Stand back a look at the big picture. You have principles and dreams. Life is too short not to follow and be true to them. Don’t put them aside anymore.

• Are the things that I am doing helping or hurting (myself, the ones that I love, the community at large)?

The impact that you have is immeasurable no matter how insignificant you THINK that you are. Make every moment count.

Everything will be better if you follow these questions in 2008. Life will be good. Explore. Dream and Discover. Change the world today!

"Le present est gros de l'avenir" (The present is big with the future)