The Voices

 “Does everyone have voices in their head?”

“What do you think?”

The voices.  The voices can be so powerful.  I remember a few years ago, I was traveling for work in Brazil, and I couldn’t get a hold of Laurel.  As background, we had some text exchanges around our one dog Daisy, too many treats, and Daisy throwing up the night before.  The voices started:

“Laurel blames you for Daisy throwing up”

“Daisy is sick and had to go to the vet”

“Daisy is dead and Laurel doesn’t want to tell you”

“Laurel has been kidnapped”

“Laurel is dead”

Spoiler alert, none of these happened.  Yes, the voices are powerful.  I unfortunately had many instances like this when I was traveling a great deal, not sure if it was the lack of sleep, being away from home or what, but these stories were way too frequent.  Since I’ve been traveling less, these situations have lessened, but I’m pretty sure they will never quite go away. 

As many of you know, I’ve really come to enjoy yoga.  OK, that may be an understatement.  I enjoy yoga, yoga studios, yoga teachers, other yoga students, books about yoga….  I think you get my point, I’m hopeful it hasn’t become an obsession, but quite frankly, when Laurel introduced me to yoga four years ago, it started slowly, but eventually, I’ve grown to really love it and love what it’s done for me.

Having said all that, I’m still not the most graceful or beautiful yogi.  I have horrible flexibility, my strength isn’t great, I can’t balance to save my life, and I have the grace of a giraffe.  But, it really doesn’t bother me.  One of our teachers, Brooke, is always so supportive and positive, she’ll say in class when we’re doing a balancing pose, “You guys look awesome!  You look so great!”  I always laugh because I’m pretty sure she’s either not looking at me, or she’s just being incredibly nice.  I never really watch anyone in yoga, and I really don’t worry a whole lot about how I look, I’m virtually positive I don’t look great, but I’m OK with that.

Recently, I’ve been really working on Balancing Half Moon.  I could never do it, and it kind of bugged me that I couldn’t because, I just thought, I should be able to do this.  My issue is that you have to balance on one leg, and my quads are very tight and weak, so it’s difficult for me.  With Laurel’s help and coaching, I started to be able to do it.  Not great, but I was able to balance on my leg with one hand on a block.  I was really excited to be able to finally do this, at least my version.

“How much of what is happening in your head has to do with what’s happening in life, right here?” Baron Baptiste from “Perfectly Imperfect”

On Labor Day, we had an outdoor yoga class at a park.  I love outdoor yoga because I love the outdoors, and also because strangely, I can balance a lot better on an uneven surface compared to a flat surface.  It was a wonderful experience, we had a great time.  Then, the studio posted pictures of  the class, and I was devastated.  The picture was Balancing Half Moon, and as I looked at the picture, I saw three lovely roses, and one really ugly thorn.  Now to be fair, the three around me all are teachers, and their poses were beautiful.  Kim, Nicole and Laurel all had these beautiful variations of Balancing Half Moon, and there I was looking, well, like a really awkward giraffe.

And the voices started…

“You look awful”

“You should be embarrassed”

“What are you doing out there?”

“You should quit yoga”

I kept telling myself what I always tell myself, I’m a work in progress, I’m doing the best I can, and I may not look that great, but I’m on my mat, I’m working at it.  But the voices are powerful, and they were taking over.  On a walk the one day with Laurel, I started crying, and tried to explain to her what was going on.  I love yoga, I don’t want to quit, but I hate the way I look, I hate looking like an awkward old man, it’s embarrassing.  She, as I would expect, gave me the logical answer very similar to the logical answer I was giving myself, but I tried to explain to her, the voices are powerful.

It also took me to a bit of a different direction, but also pretty painful.  I don’t know about everyone else, but when I see a picture of myself, I really don’t have too much reaction.  I know I’m not the best looking guy in the world, and quite honestly, I think I’m looking more and more like Doc from “Back

to the Future” each day, but it really doesn’t bother me.  I started thinking about people I know, mostly women, who refuse to have their picture taken, and refuse to post pictures of themselves on Facebook or anywhere else, and I wondered, what are the voices in their heads telling them about how they look?  It hurt to think that while I hated to see what I looked like in a yoga pose, there are people that just in general hate what they look like, and the voices are telling them, they are ugly, or overweight, or whatever. 

I had a recent conversation with one of the wonderful young ladies I used to work with in Lawrenceville with WIKA.  She was telling me about her son at college, and the voices that are telling him all of those negative things that they sometimes say.  I could easily relate to what he is going through, it’s not easy when you are young, working through those social situations at college, trying to maintain your grades, and have those voices telling you all the things you aren’t good at.  It’s also extremely difficult to be a mother and not being able to do much to help, other than offer those positive comments to try to overcome those negative voices in his head.

While the voices may be powerful, I’ve grown and developed in my ability to deal with them.  The quote above from Baron Baptiste is from one of the chapters titled “The Cosmic Joke”, where he describes that so much of what we believe isn’t real but fabricated in our head.  It’s helped me realize, I’m not alone, there are others who create a new reality like I do.  Another way is this week I’ve been watching a video I found of Hillsong United singing “Break Every Chain” and hearing:

“There’s a power in the name of Jesus to break every chain”

Each morning, when I plank, I’ve been watching and listening to this song, and I hear that phrase over and over telling me about the power of the name of Jesus.  I do firmly believe that Jesus is much more powerful than any of the voices in my head that tell me I’m not good enough.  The voices will always be there, but I’ve been able to deal with them much better through prayer, through song, through reading, through therapy, and yes, through yoga. 

Going back to the comments from the beginning, that was an exchange the other night between Sarah, my therapist, and me.  I asked Sarah that question, and as is typical of a therapist, she turned it around on me (therapists are really sneaky that way).  I’m guessing everyone has some sort of voices in their head.  I’m guessing some are different than others.  I’m guessing some are really strong and persistent while others are those slow, subtle comments that are like a faucet dripping, eventually wearing you down. 

The other day in yoga, Amber started our class with little note cards she put in front of each of us.  The cards had many different messages like:

“You are worthy!”

“You have a light, it’s meant to shine!”

“You are loved!”

This is the one I got:

My hope and prayer is that many people have voices in their heads telling them messages like this.  I hope that when they look in a mirror, they see the light that they are to the world, they know they are loved, they see someone who is worthy.  I’m really hopeful that many out there don’t have those voices that tell them all the things they can’t do in life, but they have voices that tell them how amazing they are, how unique they are and how the world is a better place because of them being in it.

As Laurel and I drove home from that class, I talked again about the voices and what they were telling me.  Again, she reiterated the logical answer, and I said my typical response to the voices, I told her I’d just tell them:

“I’m baptized, so fuck off!”

She told me, maybe you should tell them:

“Brooke says I look great, so fuck off!”

Kindness, Simple Kindness

 “This is a sermon about kindness, simple kindness.  It’s a sermon about the opportunities that we have, all of us, …to treat other people with gentleness, meekness, tenderness, mercy, and kindness.  Sometimes we do; sometimes we don’t, but you know what I’m talking about.  I’m talking about kindness, simple kindness.”  Dr. Thomas Long, from the sermon, “Be Kind, Be Kind, Be Kind”

I first heard this sermon in I’m guessing the late 80’s or early 90’s.  Dr. Long came to Westminster Presbyterian Church in Dayton, Ohio as a guest minister one Sunday, and this sermon probably captured me more than any other sermon I ever heard in my life. 

When I say “first heard”, there is a reason for that.  This sermon moved me so much that I got a copy of it from the church on cassette (yes, I know, many years ago, and I’m that old), and I’d listen to it in my car on my drives to and from work.  I can’t even recall how many times I listened to this sermon, but it was countless times, and I can still hear it and see Dr. Long preaching it.  I can’t remember if the tape finally broke, or I got rid of my car and no longer had a cassette deck, but eventually, I didn’t have the opportunity to listen to it anymore.  Thankfully, there is the internet these days, and I found a copy of it on a website.

There are so many reasons why this sermon touched me, but I think one of the biggest reasons why was Dr. Long gave so many vivid examples of people who needed our kindness:

• The woman running the cash register at the local grocery store who’s had a really long day.
• The guy at work who is constantly complaining and spreading negativity throughout the organization.
• The lonely neighbor who just needs someone to listen to them.
• The homeless man who is looking for some spare change as you are leaving Starbucks.

We come across these people every day, and we can choose to be kind, or we can pass them over and move on to what is more important in our lives.  For the most part, it’s easy to ignore these people, and not give them a moment’s notice.  It’s easy to ignore them, unless you see them in the light of God.  As Dr. Long further states:

“To put it bluntly, in the Bible, kindness is an act of civil disobedience.  It’s a refusal to treat people according to the customs and the mores and the traditions of the status quo of the world around us and an insistence on seeing them and treating them in light of who they will become in God’s future”

I recently saw one of those Facebook posts, and I always wonder, is this real or just a fabrication?  It was one of those stories where a person had reached the end of their rope, and they had planned on committing suicide that day.  They worked in customer service, and someone was so friendly, so kind to them, that they changed their mind, and they didn’t commit suicide.  That person obviously had changed their life forever.  While the story may be a fabrication, I still believe it provides a teaching moment.

My experience wasn’t quite the same, not quite that dramatic, but in that moment, it definitely meant a lot to me.  As I shared in my latest blog post, I had a deep plunge recently, and I was pretty down.  No, I wasn’t suicidal, but I certainly had my share of irrational thoughts running through my head.  It just so happened that I had an interaction with a colleague at work, and it made an incredible difference for me.  She had various kind words for me, but she also shared a couple of meme’s or sayings that really touched me. 

Now the one was funny, as you can see:

It made me laugh, and it also for some reason made me think of one of my favorite quotes and words to live by from Nadia Bolz-Weber:

“I’m baptized, so fuck off”

I’m starting to believe I need to rename my blog site since I use this quote so often anymore, but as usual, I digress.  While I don’t have as many issues with people getting down on me for not being perfect, I have plenty of voices inside of my head telling me what a screw-up I am.  So I did enjoy this picture and the sentiment of it.

The one I really enjoyed was this one:

It reminded me so much of an excerpt from Glennon Doyle’s “Love Warrior”:

"We think our job as humans is to avoid pain, our job as parents is to protect our children from pain, and our job as friends is to fix each other's pain.  Maybe that's why we all feel like failures so often - because we all have the wrong job description for love."

And more recently, I read the following from Rolf Gates:

“We are in a hurry to escape the pain we have been in and are still contending with, but our haste is self-defeating.  Do not walk so fast.  The pain you wish to escape is everywhere.  Do not walk so fast.  The grace you seek is everywhere.”

We have this concept of life that we should only embrace the good, the favorable, the enjoyable.  But we also have to embrace the painful, the dark, the fears.  Too many times I’ve let those irrational, devastating thoughts take over and push me further and further down.  I’ve learned, with some success, I need to just let them be, let them simmer, let them bounce around in my head, until it’s time for them to go away and be replaced with something more pleasant.  Key phrase, some success.

In the end though, it comes back to kindness, simple kindness.  Maybe, just maybe, this interaction with a colleague helped me embrace the pain I was going through and not let it take over until I could move to a better place.  Have you experienced this kind of kindness?  Have you made someone’s day with a kind word?  Has someone made your day with a kind word?  In the end, it’s just not that hard, and it can make all of the difference.  No, you may not keep someone from committing suicide, but maybe you’ll be the one voice of love and compassion for someone among all of the negative voices they hear each day.  

Dr. Long closed his sermon with these words from Henry James:

“There are only three things important in human life: be kind, be kind, be kind.”

The Big Lie

 “Let go of the frustration and the judgment, and work with your unruly mind as you would a child or a puppy.  It is very important that you come to know this unruliness in yourself and that you be willing to embrace it, not judge it.”  Rolf Gates

About a month ago, I saw a post from Sheila Ewers where she described, well she described so much.  As Laurel and I always say, Sheila never says anything that hasn’t been well thought out and is very meaningful.  She described many things but what captured me the most was:

“Perfectionism is the antithesis of love. It fools us into believing that we are not worthy of love unless we hide our flaws and crouch behind a facade.”

I’ve lived my life beating the shit out of myself for failures, real or perceived, and not being able to accept that I’m not perfect, I’ve hurt people, I’ve hurt those I’ve loved, and I live in shame for what I’ve done.  I came to the conclusion when I read what Sheila wrote that if I’m not willing to truly live my life, to accept myself for who or what I am, then I might as well die.  OK, please don’t take that wrong, it’s meant to be more of a positive statement.

I then finished Glennon Doyle’s book “Love Warrior”, and I read the one part where Glennon reached her own epiphany, which was:

“We think our job as humans is to avoid pain, our job as parents is to protect our children from pain, and our job as friends is to fix each other’s pain.  Maybe that’s why we all feel like failures so often – because we all have the wrong job description for love.”

She went on to describe that what people need is someone to sit quietly with them when they are feeling pain, to stand with them through the pain.  Our jobs aren’t to take away the pain, but to provide comfort.  We all need to feel and go through pain, it’s natural, it’s a part of growing.  If we try to take away each other’s pain, it stunts growth, it isn’t right, it isn’t fair, it doesn’t help.  

As I read this, I came to the stunning realization, an epiphany, that I’ve had this all wrong my entire life, and I felt like such a failure.  I can’t take away people’s pain, and I have no right to.  I’m not God, and I shouldn’t try to play God.  I cried when I read this because I was so wrong for so long, and I couldn’t believe that I never saw how ridiculous this was.

Recently, I was working with my new therapist in Ohio, Sarah, and as usual, I was doing my stream of consciousness, bouncing around from one thought wisp to the next, new revelations, and I finally stopped suddenly, and said, “am I OK?”

Now, I haven’t been with Sarah for very long, and I do feel badly for her, I often think that my therapists will want to quit or have to see their own therapist because of me.  But Sarah has been able to deal with me so far.  Sarah quickly said, “Yes!  You’re OK.”

Last week I had a business trip to Georgia, and I was able to work in a visit to Hailey, who had been my therapist for 18 months, but we hadn’t seen each other for several months.  We reviewed where I was, what was going on, and we discussed my long-standing inability to deal with shame in my life.  What was interesting to me was how what Hailey said to me weaved perfectly in with what Sarah had been telling me.  Everything was coming together perfectly.

Afterward, I reached out to Hailey by e-mail, and I said the same thing to her that I said to Sarah, “am I OK?”  I followed it up with:

“Who would have thought we’d be talking such nonsense!  Thanks to you, I can look at myself, and with my shame, depression, irrational thoughts, and I can say ‘am I OK?’  And I can relatively confidently say, ‘Yes, I think I’m OK’  You’ve helped me gain an acceptance of myself and who I am, and helped me develop tools to get through the difficult times.  For everything going on in my head, I feel fairly good about myself.”

Everything was coming together, the tapestry was weaving together beautifully, all of the pieces were fitting perfectly into the little puzzle I had created.  

And then it all fell apart.  As long and hard as I’ve worked toward this moment, it all unraveled in such a short period of time.

It started simply or with a simple mistake.  I lost my credit card.  Mistakes happen, but I don’t make these kind of mistakes.  I was devastated.  I tried to remember or figure out how it happened, but it really didn’t matter.  I was able to cancel the card, no charges were incurred, I just had to deal with all the issues of getting a new card, dealing with payments automatically charged to the card, etc.  But I had a really hard time accepting that I made such a mistake.  I started questioning my cognitive abilities, maybe I was getting old, and my mind was going.

Then I came home, and I was ecstatic to see Laurel, anytime I’m away from her, I miss her, I can’t wait to see her, I can’t wait to talk to her, listen to her, just be with her.  I didn’t feel the same zeal coming from her, and that was painful for me.  To be fair to Laurel, I was needy due to my mishap with my credit card, I was already down, and I set her or us up with unrealistic expectations.  Still, I was really hurt, and I plummeted.

I spent the next several days immersed in irrationality.  I thought many thoughts.  I imagined many things.  My mind went to all of the worst possibilities and scenarios.  I’ll leave it at that because my irrationality can go in many painful and difficult directions, and no one should have to see what alternative life I can create in such a short period of time.

And the most devastating part of all?  I realized that my breakthrough, my recent awaking and growth, was a big fat lie.  It didn’t take much, and I plummeted back down to the depths that I had allowed to be my prison before.  But this was worse than before because I had soared higher than I had been in such a long time, so the fall was that much further and harder.  I thought I had been able to “embrace, not judge, my unruliness” but I was wrong.  All of the reading, counseling, people who have been great role models, all of the tools I have, and these “little” issues or problems sent me downward.

Still, through it all, there is hope.  I recently spent a weekend with my small group from my former church, and we talked about a lot of things.  One of the things we discussed was hope.  I pulled out one of my favorite sermons from one of my favorite ministers, Sandy McConnel, who was on the retreat.  The sermon was “A Rose in Winter” which he preached way back on December 8, 1996.  Yes, I still have it along with many other of Sandy’s sermons.  As Sandy puts it, hope is faith pointed toward the future, the bird that feels the light and sings when the dawn is still dark, hope is a rose in winter.  

While I may have tumbled, and tumbled badly, I know where I can get to, and I know what I’ve read, the counseling that I’ve received, the role models I have in my life are right.  I can conquer the demons, the irrational thoughts, I can embrace, not judge the unruliness that runs through my head.  And when all else fails, I can use the immortal words of Nadia Bolz-Weber, and I can tell those voices or irrational thoughts:

I’m baptized.  So fuck off.

The Joy of Travel ....

 My spidey senses were tingling

I traveled for work out to Boulder, Colorado, last week, and even under “normal” circumstances, it wasn’t starting off well.  Some idiot planned my trip, leaving Columbus on a 5:30 am flight, with a three-hour layover in Atlanta on Monday morning.  I had to get up at 3 in the morning after retrieving Laurel from the airport at about 6 on Sunday night.  So, less than 12 hours with my wife, most of them sleeping, and getting up at “0 dark 30” for a long day ahead. 

After the fun of Monday, nothing of consequence until Wednesday.  I had traveled to Boulder with my dear friend and colleague, Rick Keith, and he was able to leave early, so he flew out on Wednesday.  He had the rental car in his name, and he was concerned, but no matter, I told him, I’ve Ubered before, and I can do that for the rest of the trip.

Wednesday morning came around, and I had to get an Uber to work, and I put it in my phone, and 30+ minutes?  Really?  Most of the time when I Uber, it’s 3, 5, maybe 8 minutes, but 30+?  When the driver picked me up, I asked him, should I be concerned for my trip to the airport on Thursday?  Well, maybe so, but as long as you schedule your ride, you’ll be fine.  I was still a bit concerned, but I figured, what could go wrong?

What could go wrong, will

I had scheduled my Uber for 5 am, so I got up at 4, and headed downstairs.  My Uber App was telling me that my driver would be there at 5 or so.  Good so far.  I waited a bit, and then about 5:10, I got a notification from Uber that my ride had been canceled, no drivers available (the good news was I got a $5 credit on my next ride with Uber!).  OK, Boulder is about 45 minutes to an hour from Denver airport, so I was a bit perplexed how I would get there. 

I asked the young lady behind the desk at the Hilton Garden Inn, can you get me a taxi?  She had no idea how.  She said that the Embassy Suites (right next door) had a taxi list, and I asked if I should just go over there and ask.  The Security Guard just happened to be standing there, and he suggested to her to just call over to the Embassy Suites and get the list.  Still no real help at this point.  Although the Security Guard did say that buses run to the airport, and I could walk down the block and wait for a bus.  Somehow I didn’t see this as a great option.

I started trying to get another Uber driver.  I tried calling taxi services.  No answers.  I downloaded the Lyft App and tried them.  No drivers.  I kept surfing back and forth between Uber and Lyft, still no drivers.  The young lady told me, I got you a taxi.  Huh?  I never heard her talk to anyone?  She said, it was really weird though, it was all automated, so I didn’t talk to anyone.  My confidence wasn’t very high.  All of a sudden, I got a notice, a Lyft driver was 1 minute away.  Woo hoo!  I got a call, and the gentleman asked me where I was, he was over at the Embassy Suites.  I said, stay there, I’ll be right there.

I found the driver, and I was off to the airport.  He asked what time my flight was, 7:25, and he said, no problem, we should be there by 6:10.  We had a great conversation, he was a young guy like me, and we talked about virtually everything and anything.  All of a sudden, his phone started re-routing him.  I looked at his phone, and it was starting to show 6:30 or later for my arrival.  Well, that’s not so good.  There were some re-routes, but eventually we got to the airport a little past 6:30. 

I ran to the Delta ticket counter, and as I got there, the Delta representative had this nasty look of horror on her face.  Oh shit, I forgot my mask in my rush to get there.  I pulled it out and apologized all over myself.  I got through the airport, and I got to my gate just as they were boarding.  OK, I can relax now, I’m on my way.

What Could Go Wrong, Will (part 2)

We all boarded the plane, and we were settled in ready for the trip to Atlanta, and then on to Columbus.  I had planned this flight and timing for one main specific purpose.  Thursday night yoga with Abbe.  I love all the classes we have, but there’s just something about Abbe, she’s always so nice.  I had missed Tuesday’s class with Nicole, so I really wanted to get back in time for Abbe’s class.

We sat for a while, and then, when you’re an experienced traveler, you can start feeling, this isn’t good.  Sure enough, the pilot came on at one point, and said something was wrong with the plane.  The maintenance people were trying to fix it, and he’d let us know.  I kept flipping to my Delta App, and I saw they were showing a delay.   At one point, the pilot came back on and said, well, that didn’t work.  I flipped to the Delta App, and they bumped the time out to 9 am, which I knew meant, they have no idea.  I kept looking at my anticipated arrival in Atlanta, and I knew I’d miss my connection.  No yoga for me.

The one bit of good luck was that I had tried texting Laurel and calling her, and she hadn’t responded.  My natural inclination always goes to she’s dead, she’s kidnapped, she’s unconscious, whatever possible disaster could have happened.  I’ve been down this road before, when these situations occur, I worry the whole flight until I land, and have a reply text waiting for me.  In this case, the delay allowed Laurel to get back to me, and I knew no tragedies had occurred.

All of a sudden, the pilot came on and said, they somehow fixed the problem, we would be leaving within 15 minutes.  OK, most likely, I’d still miss my connection, but I had a shot.  We got out of Denver and on our way to Atlanta.  We landed right around the time my plane was taking off.  I still tried to get to it in time, I was only one terminal away, but I probably missed it by 15 minutes.

I headed to the Sky Club, thankfully all of my travels have allowed me to still have access, and they told me I was re-booked on a later flight.  My Delta App still had me on the previous flight, so I was theoretically up in the air at the moment, but of course not.  They couldn’t give me a seat assignment, I would get it at the gate.

What Could Go Wrong, Will (part 3)

I worked my way to the gate when it was getting time to leave.  Now, as some background, I was lucky enough to be upgraded on my previous flight to First Class due to my status, but I harbored no illusion that would happen on this flight.  To be honest, for a short flight like this, I really don’t care other than wanting to get off the plane as quickly as possible, particular after the long day I was having.

I got to the gate, and I noticed the displays.  There were no seats available in First Class, and I was the second one in line to get one of those no seats available.  I looked at the Economy Comfort seats, and there were seats available, but I wasn’t on that upgrade list.  Again, for the most part I didn’t care, other than just wanting to get off the plane quickly.  The young man had no idea why I wasn’t on the upgrade list, but he was able to put me in Economy Comfort, so that was a good thing.  As a side note, my Delta App was still telling me that I was on that other flight, and it was also telling me my suitcase was on the ground somewhere. 

As we got close to boarding, the gate agent said that there was a problem with the plane, it was too hot, they were trying to get it to cool down before they boarded, just a short delay.  A bit later, no, the plane was broken, they needed to find a new plane.  No idea when and what gate.

So I headed off again to another Sky Club to see if I could find out something about my flight.  Note, my Delta App still had me on the previous flight and my suitcase somewhere on the ground.  I asked the young lady at the Sky Club if she knew anything about my new flight.  She got a bit offensive and told me that she didn’t have any information like that, just my name, account number, personal information, but nothing about my flight.  Now, they always do have that information, which is why I asked, but at that point, I had lost my energy to argue, discuss, anything, I just moved on.

I found a seat in a very crowded Sky Club, and started texting Laurel, venting.  She sent me back a text with the universal instructions for stress – just breathe.  My elevated text back was, “I CAN’T BREATHE, I HAVE THIS STUPID MASK ON!”  Of course, you have to wear a mask throughout your travels, and it was getting to be a pretty long and frustrating day wearing that mask.

I finally found out my gate and new time of departure, and I eventually made my way to the gate.  I looked up at the display, and there were seats available in First Class, but somehow, I wasn’t on the upgrade list.  At this point, I had lost my ability to care, I was close enough to the front to get out quickly once we finally got to Columbus.

The rest of the trip was uneventful, thankfully, although I came close.  I kept thinking, the perfect end to this day would be getting a ticket on the way home.  I kept trying to watch my speed, but I was tired and anxious to get home, and at one point, I looked up, there was a police car on the side of the road, and I looked down, and I was going 80 miles per hour.  Somehow, I avoided it and didn’t get that ticket.

For as much as I travel, I’ve had quite a few experiences like this, but this one is in the top 10% or so of difficult travel days.  I think it was just the number of things that went wrong.  But also, I think post-pandemic, or still pandemic, travel is different.  I told Laurel, people, for the most part, just seem meaner.  They are relatively rude and all about themselves.  And the people working don’t seem nearly as good.  I don’t blame the young lady at the desk at the Hilton Garden Inn, but as Nancy Cox-Lupori would say, she was as lost as Alice.  She really didn’t know what to do.  I’ve always praised Delta for the great customer service they provide, but between the people and the Delta App, there was a lot to be desired, this wasn’t their best experience.

But How Was the Play Mrs. Lincoln?

I always love to find the good in an experience, and I tried and found several.  They were:

• Yes, how can I complain when I’m Diamond Medallion, get access to the Sky Club and get upgrades?  I agree.  To be fair, I paid dearly for this over the years, but still, most don’t have this luxury.  I’m very thankful for being able to go into the Sky Club and to have chances to be upgraded.
• The Lyft driver I had was a wonderful man.  I loved talking to him, he really brightened a very poorly-started day for me.
• There was a lady sitting behind me on the flight to Columbus, and she made friends with everyone around her.  This was her first flight to Columbus.  The questions started, are you from Columbus?  Where do you work?  What do you do?  Are you a Buckeye fan?  I’m a Gamecock fan.  She never met a stranger.
• On my flight to Columbus, there was a young lady sitting next to me with her, I assume, grade school daughter.  I was sitting there finishing Glennon Doyle’s “Love Warrior”, and tearing up periodically.  All of a sudden, she pulls out the Wall Street Journal, and starts reading it.  I couldn’t help think, what irony.  This picture really seems reversed.  And then I thought, no, it isn’t, or it shouldn’t be. 
• Waiting for the bags in Columbus, there was another young guy like me, but he was a former military officer, you could tell by his clothes and his backpack.  He had his granddaughter with him, she was probably 3 or 4.  I saw him take her little pink backpack, and attach it to his huge military backpack, and put it over his back.  To see this hardened military guy with this little pink backpack, I really wish I could have gotten a picture, it was really a beautiful moment.

In the end of course, I survived.  It was a long, painful day, but I also found some bright moments along the way.  Once I had the opportunity to look in the mirror when I got home, I told that idiot who planned this trip that he really screwed this one up.  But at least he has that $5 Uber credit to look forward to!

Leaving Church

 Editor’s Note: Thanks to Barton McMillan who inspired me to write this, even though he doesn’t know it.  You’re a very good man, who deserved to be treated as such.

“God wants the mainline church to die”  Reverend Allen Hoskyn

Very strong words, and I’m still not sure I believe them.  And to be fair to Allen, he spoke them to me many years ago, and I have no idea if he still believes them, or even believed them then. 

I do know that it’s time for me to take a sabbatical, or extend the sabbatical I’ve been on.  I’ve lost faith in the church, or at least the church we’ve created, and I can’t see returning for the foreseeable future.  And that’s OK.

Each time we’ve moved over our 38 years or so of marriage and raising a family, one of the first things Laurel and I would do when we moved to a new community was to find a church home.  It was up there in the priorities with getting utilities set up and emptying moving boxes and setting up our home.

Jesus has left the building

Just like with anything else in life, it hasn’t been just one thing that has dampened my enthusiasm for church.  I will say that I’ve had two very negative experiences over the past year, one at our former church, one at the seminary where I served as a Trustee, that left me really jaded toward our leadership, including me.  Those were probably the tipping points that pushed me over the edge. 

But it’s been more than that, it goes deeper, I’ve had many small events over the last few years that have caused me to hit the pause button and say church isn’t the place for me right now.  I guess part of it could be blamed on the pandemic, we lost our weekly ritual of attending church and the assorted other activities during the week.  Fundamentally though, I just believe the church has lost its way.  We have lost our way.  I know it’s an overstatement to say Jesus has left the building, but I’m not sure we are keeping Him as the focal point of what we are doing as a church.

And let’s be clear, my decision isn’t the right decision for everyone, and while it may appear that I’m painting a broad brush condemning the church, there are still many people doing a lot of great things within the church.  In fact, my next blog post is titled, “When the Church Does It Right” followed by “Faith”, which will highlight where I am on my current faith journey. 

For those who have come to know God, the whole world is a prayer mat

While I could focus on the many negative examples of why I’ve made this decision, I’d like to focus on a few positive examples of why I’ve moved on. 

The first is our yoga studios.  Each time Laurel and I have found a new yoga studio, we are welcomed into a new community.  There is no judgment, we are free to come as we are.  I have absolutely no idea if any or all of the people there are Christians, Muslims, Jews or whatever, but I don’t care, and they don’t either.  They are kind and caring.

The second has been the book club I’ve been a part of for the past year from our yoga studio in Georgia.  The class was called “Don’t Look Away”, and we read a book a month related to understanding and dismantling racism.  Each week we would gather and discuss the book we were reading, and we would share our thoughts and feelings about what we read.  Again, no judgment, we were free to say what we felt and share our beliefs.  And again, no idea if any were Christian or not, but they were kind and caring.

For me at least, I’ve been able to find Jesus more readily outside of the walls of church.  I have no idea if any of these people know Jesus, but I am finding Jesus within them.  I feel comfortable with them, I belong.  While I wouldn’t advocate or believe this is the right answer for everyone, I still believe the church serves a very useful purpose in our society, I just don’t think it holds the right answer for everyone, or at least me at the present time.

To my friends and family, no worries, I’m still a devoted follower of Jesus Christ.  I’d prefer to keep looking for and finding Jesus where He is.  And the good news is, He is everywhere, we just need to look.  In fact, I just saw Him again today in a new coffee shop we went to in Delaware called Coffeeology.

“So the last will be first and the first will be last” Matthew 20:16

And who knows, I may come back someday.  I’m hopeful that I can find a church like Nadia Bolz-Weber’s church where the people like me get the opportunity to worship with those that Jesus hung around with, the ones who are not welcome in most churches.  I believe my dear friend Dave Carr has found that in Hayward Street Church in Asheville, and hopefully someday, I will too.

 In closing, I’ll offer up some words from “Beyond Words” by Frederick Buechner.  I know, I’ve quoted him before, but seriously, he can say it so much better than I can:

Jesus said, "I am the Road, also the Truth, also the Life. No one gets to the Father apart from me." John 14:6.

He didn't say that any particular ethic, doctrine, or religion was the way, the truth, and the life. He said that he was.  He didn't say that it was by believing or doing anything in particular that you could "get to the Father." He said that it was only by him-by living, participating in, being caught up by the way of life that he embodied, that was his way.

 

 

Shame

“I’m disappointingly human”

Back in September, I wrote a blog post about Belonging versus Fitting In, the difference between the two and where I feel like I belong and where I don’t belong.  As I noted in the blog post, my therapist Hailey really helped me understand the difference between the two, and she used a quote from Brene Brown to highlight it.  Belonging is us being ourselves while fitting in means we have to become something else.  I think, or hope,  most of us would prefer belonging.

Since then I’ve been reading Brene Brown’s “Daring Greatly”, which has been one of the most powerful books I’ve read in a long time.  The main premise of the book is that we need to have the courage to be vulnerable to “live, love, parent and lead.”  As I’ve noted to some people, what’s great is I read it after Laurel, so it had all of the important parts underlined and highlighted, so I could know what to focus on. 

In this book, Ms. Brown draws the distinction between Guilt and Shame.  Guilt is “I did something bad”.  Shame  is “I am bad”.  Quite literally, the heart of the matter for me, and I’ve run through this so many times with Hailey, and while my head understands the problem, my heart still won’t.  Does God forgive you?  Yes, of course, God forgives everyone.  Does Laurel or whomever forgive you?  Yes, Laurel and most people are kind enough to grant forgiveness.  Do you forgive others?  Of course, everyone deserves forgiveness.  Can you forgive yourself?  No.

While this was yet another exercise in my seeing the various ways I have failed in my life, the whole discussion on shame was eye-opening and incredibly painful.  Shame is what we do, who we are, how we treat each other to get what we want.  Ms. Brown told so many stories, so many anecdotes of people expressing how they had been shamed.  Spouses, children, parents, co-workers describing instances when they had been shamed.  The stories were devastating, mostly because I had seen them, experienced them, felt them, and most painfully, used them.  I thought of the words from the Bob Seger song, “Night Moves”, but with a slight twist:

“I shamed you, you shamed me, but neither one cared.  We were getting our share”

For me, the easiest or most painful ones were the times I had shamed Laurel or my children.  I’m not sure who gets shamed more, women or children, but it’s probably a close race, and frankly, doesn’t matter.

I read some of those stories, and I could go through and check the box.  As noted, Laurel had already read it, and marked specific areas, and while it wasn’t meant to be a “wake up call” for me, it was.

• Shaming for sex.  Laurel told me the one story,  and I can’t even remember if it’s in the book or maybe in another book she read, but as she stated it, after working all day, feeding the kids, getting them bathed, getting them in bed, and all you want to do is curl up on the end of the couch and eat some ice cream.  But your husband wants to have sex.  Check.
• Shaming by comparing her to other wives and finding her lacking.  Check.
• Shaming by thinking I could run our household like a business, and not realizing she was really good at running the house.  Check and mate.

Now, the good news is that after some rocky early years, I grew to love Laurel more and more each day.  More importantly, I grew to value and appreciate her and the gifts she has.  She is amazing with the kids, much better at it than me, and she runs our house impeccably, she is really good at it.  I really don’t believe I could have a better partner or spouse, she is truly amazing.  If there is anyone lacking in this relationship, it’s me.

When it comes to our children, I found many of those examples and stories coming way too close to home also.  While unfortunately I could probably come up with hundreds, some brief examples:

• I  remember when Kelly was a pre-teen and playing soccer, I would always say to her, "Where does it come from Kelly?" and she was supposed to answer back, "It comes from the heart sir!"  (I think I read too many motivational books).  You know, it really seemed kind of funny at the time, but maybe not so much for Kelly...
• I remember drawing up a contract with our daughter Megan.  With signatures.  As Megan noted, “you always try to treat us like one of your employees.” 
• I remember being embarrassed at times with Sean and Patrick when they were in middle school. The most odd and ill-fitting kids seemed to always gravitate to our sons.  That seemed to continue into high school and even college.  As I look back, they were doing what we all encourage people to do, be kind to those who need kindness.  What did Jesus say?  Something like, “what you have done for the least of these, you did for me”.  I’m incredibly proud of them now for doing this, and my embarrassment has shifted to me.

Probably the most telling to me was an example from the book.  Ms. Brown described a time Toni Morrison was on the Oprah Winfrey show.  Ms. Morrison said that whenever your child walks into the room, your face should light up.  She said, “let your face speak what’s in your heart.”  Ah, not quite what I did.  My kids used to talk about my “mean face”.  I’d ask, “what do you mean, my mean face?”  They’d say, you had your mean face on, you looked at us with your mean face.  I’d tell that that was just my regular face.

I recently shared this story with Nancy Cox-Lupori, who used to work for me.  I knew how much she would appreciate it.  Nancy and I had a great working relationship, and she would call me out when I needed calling out.  When I had “that face”, she would say, “Stop with the Snoopy face.  Quit scowling at us.”  If I could only have had Nancy around when I was doing that to my children….

As I reflected on all of this, I could come up with so many ways I shamed Laurel and our children, but I couldn’t think of times I shamed people at work (I’m sure Nancy could give several examples).  As I thought about it, I did remember a situation where I shamed someone at work, and I really did it well.  I was teaching a training class on written communication at Touche Ross, and for the most part, accountants weren’t very good at written communication.  There was one young man, Scott Soutar, who had written a memo that had many misspellings, poor grammar, etc.  I used it as an example for a group of employees, with Scott in the audience.  Yes, I was that insensitive.  Until the scenario played out completely,  I didn’t realize how insensitive I was.  Scott was devastated, and I was devastated once I saw what I did.

As Laurel has told me, and I do agree with her, we can’t focus on all the areas we have failed when we read this book.  I do agree with that.  Part of what hurts is realizing how much I have used shame to hurt those I love.  Part of what hurts is realizing that I’ve had it done to me too.  What hurts so badly though is to realize it is who we are, how we treat each other, how we control each other.  It has become such a natural part of our lives. 

“Don’t let the perfect be the enemy of the good”

OK, I've given you how I've embraced some of the negatives I've found about me reading this book.  But, my God, the positives.  Ms. Brown gives us so many ideas and examples of how we can have the courage to be vulnerable and be better leaders, better parents, and most importantly, better human beings.  Let me highlight some positives I’ve gleaned, which is why it was so critical for me to read this book:

• It got me writing again.  One of the sections of the book discusses that trying to be perfect is the enemy of creativity and art.  Art is never perfect, it’s expression, and it’s who we are or what we’re feeling at the time.  I quit writing because I was striving so much for perfection.  I need to realize, my writing has never been perfect, it never will be, and that’s OK.
• I don’t care about proving myself anymore.  That really has evolved over the past several years, but this book reinforced it for me.  I will do the best I can do, and if that’s not good enough, so be it.  I won’t be shamed into doing what someone else would want me to do or be.
• I am working on my facial expressions, I’ve thought about anyone I meet, waiters, store clerks, co-workers, my family, a smile can change so much.  Especially with our loved ones, let them see how they light up our world, but do it with those people you meet along the way.
• I have given away at least five copies of this book to people who mean something to me, and I will continue to give this book to people who can gain from it.  I really believe this book is that life-changing. 
• I am encouraging colleagues to avoid this type of behavior (shaming) and to do the same with their colleagues.  It just doesn’t belong in any setting.  We can and should be better than this.
• I am doing my best to have the courage to embrace the vulnerable.  I’ve written and re-written this blog post over the last few weeks and debated posting it.  I’ll admit I’m scared of what people will think of me for some of the ways I have used shame in my life to get what I want.  But, I’m hopeful, just like one of my favorite lines from a TV show, “Last Tango in Halifax”, you all will realize that I’m simply disappointingly human.

Starting at Second Base

 As part of the pandemic-season rule changes a few years ago, MLB introduced its new, and somewhat
controversial, extra-innings format. During the regular season, all extra innings began with a runner on second base and no outs. 

As I think back over my long career, 38 years or so, five companies, I can count on no hands the number of people of color who have been in leadership positions in those companies, and I can count on one hand the number of women who have been in leadership positions in those companies.  The only place that did have some diversity was Goodwill Industries of Dayton, but that was a significant anomaly in my career (but such a blessing!).  

My favorite story to tell, although it’s really painful and doesn’t reflect well on me, was from my first job experience at Deloitte.  I started off with Touche Ross, and about five years in or so, we merged with Deloitte, Haskins and Sells, and become Deloitte and Touche, eventually, just Deloitte.  I know, so complicated….

When we merged, I was a Manager at the time, and on the Touche Ross side, we were all a bunch of white males.  On the Deloitte side, they had some female managers, and even had a female Partner, Laura Pannier.  We sat down the one day trying to figure out how in the world they had females in management, and the idea was struck, maybe one of us should have lunch with Laura and ask her how they do it.  I volunteered, I thought this would be a great way to bridge the gap, cross over, get to bond with my new colleagues.  Wow, I hope you all can see at this point, what a horrible idea this was.

I called Laura up, and asked her if I could go to lunch with her.  We met, and I introduced the question,  “how do you have women in management in your office?”  She didn’t even come close to hiding her anger, her disdain, for the question or concept.  Why would you even ask this question?  Why would they send you to ask this question?  Why would you be dumb enough (she didn’t say it that way, but it was pretty apparent) to be the sacrificial lamb to ask this question?  It was so painful I can only remember a few points such as encouragement, inclusion, and respect.  Needless to say, it wasn’t a very pleasant lunch.  She did pay for it though, so I guess it wasn’t a complete loss.

A few years went by, and I remember sitting in my office minding my own business at Barco Graphics, when Karen Martenia paced outside in the accounting office upset about something.  Karen always seemed to be upset about something.  She then said the words that sent me to a whole new level of anger and rage:

“When I come back in my next life, I want to be a white man, so I don’t have to do anything.”

There was no doubt, that comment was directed at me.  And for the life of me, I couldn’t figure out why.  I had always been nice to Karen, I couldn’t think of any reason she would direct that comment at me.  

Didn’t she know how hard I worked?  I usually got in about 7 in the morning and worked until 6 or 7 at night.  I was there every Saturday morning, working, in most cases, all by myself.  In many cases, I came in on Sunday nights, I brought the kids to work, so that Laurel wouldn’t get mad at me, we would make that drive over to work, and I’d put in a few more hours to try to catch up.

I worked my ass off!  I worked my ass off my entire career.  How could she ever make a comment like that about me?  I sat there and boiled, I never said anything, for fear, I would get into trouble for insulting a minority.  Karen checked most of the boxes, she was black, female and Hispanic.  I bit my tongue, gritted my teeth, and kept right on working.

As I’m nearing the final years of my long career, I think about that moment, and so many more, and I think about those words.  Hadn’t I worked my ass off my whole career, for that matter, my whole life?  Well, no……

• Like some or many teens, I was a tad bit lazy growing up.  I was relatively smart, but I put in as little work as possible to get by in high school.  I had pretty good test scores, average grades, and I could have gotten into many schools, but I even debated whether to go to college or not.

• My parents would have none of that.  My Dad quit school in the 9th grade, drove a truck and worked his way up to managing a truck terminal.  I was going to college.

• I had my share of “issues” as a youth, minor offenses, alcohol, OK, we should leave it right there in case I run for political office.

• I took the easy route, I went to college in my hometown, I went with friends, I spent my freshman year playing pool.  I got pretty good at pool, but my grades seemed to run counter to my pool-playing abilities.

• I finally “woke up” somewhere around my sophomore year, and I did start to work, and I worked pretty hard from that point forward.  But I had a head start.  I was able to flounder along for roughly 20 years, while someone like Karen, I have my doubts she shared that luxury.

If I wouldn’t have been pushed by my parents, I would have never gone to college.  If I wouldn’t have grown up in a very, very white community, where “boys will be boys”, my transgressions may not have been forgiven so easily.  If I wouldn’t have had many people looking out for me, I may have never gotten into college or survived my desire to play pool rather than go to class.  I was given many chances to recover from my lack of initiative.

How would my life have turned out differently if I wouldn’t have had so many opportunities to get on the right path?   Again, do those of us who don’t look like me share that same luxury?  I could be wrong, but I have my doubts.

Let’s take it a step further.  While Karen may have checked several boxes when it comes to breaking the diversity barrier, I would still say, no matter what box you check, it’s not so easy.  And sadly, we are losing many gifts and opportunities from not having more diverse leadership and different styles, personalities and backgrounds to allow us to make the best decisions for our organizations.

I find it interesting as white males we don’t see the disparity, the huge gap, the head start we have in our careers.  From the beginning, I had people looking out for me, people watching over me.  That’s not the case for many in our society.  From the beginning, I entered into a fraternity where everyone looked like me.  I started out with a bunch of white guys, some young, some old, to a bunch of old white guys over time, sitting around, making decisions for the companies I worked for.  We all talk the same, we all look the same.  Sure, we have different personalities, but it’s a homogeneous environment.  How does a person of color, how does a woman, break into this exclusive club?  Why would they want to?

How do we break this cycle?  That’s a great question.  I went to a seminar a few years ago, and one of the sessions was on women in management.  One of the speakers talked about how women applied to the organization she worked at because there were so many women and women of color in management there.  They saw the opportunity, and wanted to be associated with an organization that valued women.  I would anticipate that this would hold true for anyone in the workforce, people want to be somewhere where they view that they can hold an equal seat at the table.  If we continue to maintain leadership models where it is all white males, with maybe a sprinkling of one female or one person of color, I just don’t see us making the necessary shift in our culture.  And again, we will sadly miss the opportunity to grow and advance our organizations to much greater levels.  

Going back to Karen Martenia, why the comment, why did she lash out at me?  Ah, I was an easy target.  I was a young, white guy holding a management position in a company where Karen had zero chance of ever moving up.  I had started off at second base, I was the beneficiary of the unwritten rules that we’ve implemented in our society that benefit white males like me.  Karen?  No idea what her history was, but I’m envisioning, she walked up to the plate with an 0-2 count and Nolan Ryan on the mound.  She really didn’t stand much of a chance.

Being Peter

 Then they seized him and led him away, bringing him into the high priest's house, and Peter was following at a distance.  And when they had kindled a fire in the middle of the courtyard and sat down together, Peter sat down among them.  Then a servant girl, seeing him as he sat in the light and looking closely at him, said, “This man also was with him.”  But he denied it, saying, “Woman, I do not know him.”  And a little later someone else saw him and said, “You also are one of them.” But Peter said, “Man, I am not.”  And after an interval of about an hour still another insisted, saying, “Certainly this man also was with him, for he too is a Galilean.”  But Peter said, “Man, I do not know what you are talking about.” And immediately, while he was still speaking, the rooster crowed.  And the Lord turned and looked at Peter. And Peter remembered the saying of the Lord, how he had said to him, “Before the rooster crows today, you will deny me three times.”  And he went out and wept bitterly.

My two favorite church services each year are Maundy Thursday and Easter Sunday.  Due to the pandemic, I’ve had to miss those services these last two years, which has been painful for me.  To be honest, it makes me angry, but I digress.  While I love the pageantry and the joy of Easter Sunday, I find Maundy Thursday to be so powerful, and poignant, I’ve always found it to be the service I really gravitate to.  I’ve seen the churches that I have attended do a phenomenal job of drawing the emotion out of this service and make it real for all of us.

There are so many moments in those last few hours that Jesus had with his disciples, the betrayal, the capture, the denial, and I often focus on the denial.  Maybe it’s because Peter’s denial is mentioned in all four Gospels, or maybe it’s because I can feel that pain that Peter feels.  We often look at Peter as “lesser than”, and wonder how could he have done this?  How could he have denied Jesus at such a time?

Have you ever had a Peter moment?

I remember back two years ago, I was wallowing in my own Peter moment.  I had denied Jesus.  The story doesn’t matter, but I had turned my back on Him.  My rationale or reasoning was far less than Peter’s, my life wasn’t on the line, it was much less.  I remember going to yoga on Good Friday morning, and I remember lying in shavasana at the end of class, and I wept bitterly.  All I could think was how I sometimes looked at Peter as failing Jesus, and I kept thinking I’m no better than Peter at this moment, I have failed Jesus.

But haven’t we all failed Jesus at some point or another, or really, maybe on a daily basis?  And that’s the beauty of this story.  Now, I’m no Biblical scholar, but I’ve heard that this story gets told so much, because Peter wanted it told.  The point of the story isn’t Peter’s denial.  It’s Jesus’ love for us no matter what, no matter if, and when, we deny Him.  

As I looked at this moment, I was drawn to all of the beauty that has been created around this story.  The one that struck me the most was surrounding J.S. Bach’s composition, and the question was:

Inevitably we suffer with Peter; but the uncomfortable question Bach asks us to consider is, would any of us have emerged from his ordeal with greater credit?

Peter loved Jesus, and Jesus knew that.  Earlier in the scripture Jesus asked Peter three times, “Do you love me?”  Peter of course answered yes, and he did love Jesus, he just couldn’t muster the courage to stand by Jesus in a very difficult situation, when his own life was on the line.  As noted, I have denied Jesus with much less on the line, but just like Peter, I know that Jesus loves me no matter what.  And my love and devotion for Jesus doesn’t change, even when I have those moments where I deny Him.

The pain, and the beauty, of Maundy Thursday never disappoints and keeps us pointed toward Easter Sunday.  While we rejoice today in the glory of Easter Sunday, let’s not forget the betrayal, the capture, the denial that got us here.

Finding Joy?

 “Joy dials us into the world around us.  Our attention is right there, our hearts are open, our minds are open, and our motivation is to know what is true.”

Spoiler alert:  I haven’t found it, but I’m still searching, and I know, I will find it.

Over the past several months, in the midst of the dreaded pandemic, Laurel and I began the planning and preparing for a move from our home of 14 years in Georgia to Ohio.  I made the decision to make a job change, within WIKA, and Laurel, as usual, was willing to stay by my side as I went off looking for the next windmill.

Fast forward to the last few months as we began the official, and hard, transition.  We put our house up for sale, and as has been the case lately, it sold in a day.  We had that immediate reaction of great!  Our house sold!  Shit!  Our house sold!  We had about a month to get our move planned, get rid of excess furniture, clothes and stuff.  Every day was spent working on getting all of the work done to prepare to vacate our home.

The hard part was that we just weren’t ready, and we didn’t realize, we just weren’t ready.  On one hand, it was a lot of hard work.  On the other hand, it was ripping us apart emotionally.  We had never lived in one home for this long, and we had fallen in love with our home, our neighborhood, our church, our yoga studio, everything.  We spent a lot of time transferring those feelings to our dogs, Little Bit and Daisy, as they kept trying to figure out where all the furniture was going, and why everything that

had been a constant for them was no longer a constant.  The final painful moment was when we sold Daisy’s love seat, and she couldn’t watch the squirrels in the backyard anymore out the window.

The day came when we had to leave, and no surprise, we both cried.  I had never imagined this would be so hard.  But we never imagined how hard the next steps would be.

We couldn’t leave Georgia yet, so we couldn’t make our move to Ohio.  I had a commitment for Confirmation Sunday to be there for my confirmand, Tucker Phillips, and I would never miss that.  And our son Sean and his fiancée Chandler were coming to visit over Thanksgiving (another spoiler alert, they never made it, due to the pandemic).  

We moved into an Airbnb for three weeks, and it started off badly from the outset.  We chose the house because it was pet friendly, and we were supposed to have it to ourselves.  When Laurel entered the front door, she could hear dogs barking.  She came back outside and called the owner.  The owner lived downstairs with her two dogs.  We thought, it’s three weeks, how bad could it be?

It was that bad.  Our dogs would hear her dogs and bark.  Her dogs would hear our dogs and bark.  It was more than that though.  For whatever reason, Laurel and I, and the dogs, never seemed to feel comfortable there.  We could never put our finger on it.  The furniture wasn’t comfortable.  The neighborhood wasn’t the nicest neighborhood.  There were a lot of big dogs in the neighborhood, and each time when we’d take the dogs for a walk, if Little Bit saw or heard one of those big dogs, she’d want to head back home.  I spent each week in Ohio, and Laurel had to deal with all of this.  Every day when I’d call her, she’d cry.  Now, Laurel has always been the rock in our marriage, so this was not like her, she has handled everything during our 38 years together.  I’d ask her what was wrong, and the best way she could put it was from a book she had been reading, and the one line from the book:

“Nothing awakens feelings of deep terror like the experience of absolute disconnection from others.”

We not only had left our home, but we had left all of our connections behind, and nothing felt comfortable or safe to Laurel anymore.  

After we made it through those three weeks, we moved into a hotel for five days, and our plan had been to drive to Ohio after those five days and move to a new hotel in Ohio.  As much as we dreaded the idea of having our dogs in a hotel, it actually went pretty well.  They loved the king-sized bed, and they enjoyed the room much more than the house we had been in.

For once I got a good idea, and instead of going to Ohio, we made a side trip to my Mom’s home in North Carolina, and I left Laurel and the dogs there for a week while I went to Ohio.  But, of course, this didn’t go smoothly either.  Just as we made it into North Carolina, we stopped at a rest stop.  When we got back into our car, the battery was dead.  We had to call Roadside Assistance on the Sunday after Thanksgiving, and wait patiently as we waited for someone to come give us a jump.  The whole time we stressed and worried, what if it’s more than the battery?  What if we have to be towed?  We had two dogs and all of the stuff we could carry with us in the vehicle, where will we find a hotel out in the middle of nowhere that also somehow takes dogs?  Luckily, it was only a dead battery, and we were on our way.

We were also almost out of gas at that point, and so we had to stop, and of course keep the car running, so we didn’t have a dead car again.  As we stopped at a gas station, Laurel insisted on checking the trunk to make sure everything was still there.  I started losing my mind, where could it have possibly gone?  I started storming off, walking to ?  Yes, where was I walking to…

As we got back in the car, and Laurel sat there crying, I started yelling “What has happened to you?  Why are you like this?”  Laurel answered, “Everything is back there.  Everything we have is back there.  We can’t lose that.”  Immediately for some reason, a sense of calm came over me, and I said, as I pointed to Laurel and me, “No.  This is everything.  None of that matters.  The only thing that matters is you and me.”

The week at my Mom’s home went great for Laurel and the dogs, and also for my Mom.  Laurel, Little Bit and Daisy got to celebrate my Mom’s 92nd birthday with her.  And the next weekend we were off to Ohio for another 18 days or so in a hotel.  This hotel experience hasn’t been nearly as positive as the previous hotel stay, but that wasn’t the most difficult part.  I started unraveling.  

As the last few months have unfolded, and we got busier and busier, I moved away from those activities that grounded me and kept me at peace.  I stopped watching our church services online.  I stopped attending the Forum, our Adult Education classes online.  As most of our worldly possessions moved without us, I quit doing our book club online, I didn’t have the books.  I quit attending my Small Group meetings from my former church online.  Finally, when we left Georgia, I had my final yoga classes, which really hurt, since that was one of the last “in person” activities I was able to participate in.  And the worst, and I anticipated the most painful, I had my last session with Hailey.  I had spent close to a year and a half with Hailey, she had made a huge impact on me and helped me transform myself dramatically, and now, I would have to miss those weekly meetings of grounding and bringing my life into perspective.

I gradually became grumpier and grumpier, and I would get angry over all the little things, and really angry over the big things.  Many of these are “first world problems”, I’m tired of wearing the same clothes out of the same suitcase for the past seven weeks.  I’m tired of living out of a hotel room, or worse, for the past seven weeks.  I’m tired of eating crappy food for the last seven weeks.  Back to the story above about the dead battery and stopping for gas, when we stopped, there was a homeless couple begging for money at the gas station, so yes, I have little to be complaining about.  But, I couldn’t seem to help it.

And the big things.  We couldn’t find a house.  The housing market in Columbus is completely insane, and it took forever to find a home.  We finally did, but it was really painful.  We’ve had difficulties on our mortgage and with wiring money, and in both cases, it was with the bank we’ve been doing business with for many years.  In this day and age, it really shouldn’t be this hard but it was.

As noted, in many ways, this shouldn’t have been a surprise that I was losing my way, my focus.  The only activity I had that was grounding me was reading Rolf Gates’ “Meditations on Intention and Being” (the quote at the beginning is from this book) and reading the Bible in the morning.  As a side note, my choice on Bible readings didn’t help much though either, I have been going through the Bible this year, and I’m currently on the Old Testament and the prophets.  Not always the most uplifting stories from the Bible.

Just when I was growing tired of being even around myself and treating my small little family of Laurel, Little Bit and Daisy badly, God intervened.  As I had an e-mail exchange with my friends from the Forum, I made a comment about not being there anymore or something like that, and Chuck Achuff suggested I teach one of the classes in December.  The Forum was studying Adam Hamilton’s “Incarnation”.  I was somewhat shocked, and hadn’t really thought of attending, let alone teaching, but I said yes.  I’m not sure if you have read any of Adam Hamilton’s books before, but I don’t think anyone could feel badly after reading Adam Hamilton.  And Incarnation didn’t disappoint, there were so many meaningful insights that helped bring me back to who I am and to focus on what is important in life.  The Light of the World.  The Word of God. Joy.  

“If you can calm the raging sea, you can calm the storm in me.”

I also started taking some ownership for myself of bringing myself back to life.  I started running on the treadmill at the hotel, and listening to contemporary Christian music.  Since they are practicing safety, you have to sign up for the exercise room, and you have it to yourself.  So I was singing loud and singing proud as I ran, and thankfully, hopefully, no one could hear me singing.  At least for their benefit…  And one last thing, I noticed on the treadmill, three little buttons, they said, “Quick Start”, “Pause” and “Cool Down”.  I used the last two as metaphors for myself, and as I ran and sang, I would stare at the last two, and try to focus on pausing and cooling down.  

As I noted in the beginning, I haven’t quite found joy yet.  But I’m getting there.  I love to use another metaphor for myself for joy.  The last time we were able to be at church before the pandemic, I got a big hug from Meera Phillips.  She is Tucker’s sister, and I got to see her again at Tucker’s confirmation.  Meera is the embodiment of joy.  When I want to visualize joy, I visualize Meera, who can even smile with her eyes with one of those dreaded masks on.

This won’t be a classic Christmas for us.  We should be in our new home by Christmas, barely, and there will be no presents, no tree, no decorations.  But as we all know, that’s not Christmas.  I’ve come to realize, as the Grinch did, maybe Christmas means a little bit more.  Christmas is so much more.  The Light of the World.  The Word of God.  Joy.

“And the angel said unto them, Fear not: for, behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people.  For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, which is Christ the Lord.”