Fathers

Fathers, this one is for you.

I am often saddened and dismayed to observe men at their worst. Specifically, when they demean and degrade their children and spouses. I am not even talking about physical abuse. I am talking about those men who have the attitude that they are the "Man of the House" or the "King of the Castle", and therefore, are somehow more important than the other people with whom they live.

And for those of us who do not have such attitudes, this will be an affirmation of what makes being a father so wonderful.

Here is something I learned while in the Army from a wise, older gentleman from my church: Men, we are only husbands and fathers because we are allowed to be, and we must earn that privilege every day. The gentleman who told me this had been married 54 years, so I think he knew something about it.

We choose our spouses, just as they choose us. However, our children didn't choose us. And at some point they will - or not. It depends on whether you give them reasons to choose you. Also, our spouses can later reject their choice - reject us - and still be mothers.

Let me explain. I have a friend who is proud of his Jewish heritage, in spite of the fact that he is, by faith, Christian. You see, his mother is Jewish by birth, and according to him, the Jewish culture traces a person's lineage (determining whether or not they are born in the faith) through the mother. When I asked him why, he simply said, "Because there is never any question as to who the baby's mother is!"

Men, we are only fathers and husbands because our wives and children allow us to be. In other words, a woman can conceive and bear children, and they can never deny the fact that she is their mother. Now, she may not be motherly, but she is the mother. If she chooses, she can separate herself from us and continue to be a mother. However,  if she does so, we cease, in many ways, to be a father.

In other words, even though we have paternal rights allowed by law, whether or not our children see us as a father, depends on their viewpoint; their choice - not ours. If they choose us as a father, then we are fathers. If not, we are not - despite DNA.

The role of a father is to support, guide, provide for, and at times, discipline his children. This is a vital role. If we do not do so in the spirit of love and giving, without seeking recognition or reward, then these same children will turn away from us, and it will be as if they were never born to us.

Because of my fathers injuries and illnesses, he became addicted to pain killers and prescribed narcotics. He never stole drugs or committed crimes to obtain them because he didn't have to. This was a day and age that physicians often just prescribed the medication without control. Nevertheless, for a period of time, he made our lives a living hell.

I was 16, and somehow, I set my father's temper off, and we got into it. This wasn't the first time that he had attacked me physically, but it was the last time. He punched me in the face, breaking my nose. I didn't cry out or attack back. I simply picked myself up off the floor, reached inside my jacket and pulled out a knife - a hunting knife with an 8" blade. Brandishing my knife, I said, "That's the last time you ever get to do that again! If you ever come after me, you will meet this! And remember, you have to sleep sometime! You are no father of mine!" And I left.

In less than a year, we had healed the wounds caused by that incident. I guess it finally dawned on him, that unless he wanted to lose all connection with his children, he had better clean up his act. Because the choice to allow him into my life and to accept him as my father was mine - not his. Unfortunately, he never repaired the relationship he had with my older brother.

Yes, we must, and can, lead by example of what it means to be a good man. We don't have to have money, we don't even have to have much. We just need to strive, as best we can to provide for our families, shelter them from the ills of the world, and give them loving guidance.

Yes, there are times when we must discipline our children. Providing children with no discipline is the grossest type of abuse because we allow them to hurt themselves. Refusing to provide discipline is selfish. However, when discipline is required, do so for the child, not for you. Don't use the occasion to release your own stress. You are stronger than that. Hold your own stress in and release it later through exercise, work or meditation.

Discipline because you love, not because you are angry. Guide because you care, not because you control - because the truth is, you don't control - not ultimately.

Now even the best fathers have wayward children, even children who spend much of their lives dealing with addiction, crime and prison. But, if these fathers can honestly say that they did all they could to be a good father - as best as they knew how - then, in spite of all that their children have done, they will still look at this man as their father.

Men, we are a royal brotherhood. We have the awesome responsibility and opportunity to raise children who are prepared for the world. Children who have the confidence necessary to overcome the challenges they face. There is much to be done, and it can be done, with the proper guidance and direction from a loving father.

The Need to Be Right

I went to a family gathering a week or so ago, and as is typical in most American families, I suppose, the talk turned to politics. I listened to the differing opinions and ideas that caused several of my family members to get rather hot under the collar, and something dawned on me - both sides have this incredible need to be right.

And it's not even enough that they need to be right, but in being so, everyone else must be wrong - and both sides feel this way. And I wondered, why is it that we have this powerful need, and why are we so willing to sacrifice the feelings of others and the sacred relationships we have with those we love the most, just so that we can be right?

From the time we first learn to understand those around us - mainly our parents - we learn right from wrong - right? Wrong. We learn their impressions of right and wrong. We are too young to understand the difference. We are born in innocence with no knowledge of right, wrong; good or evil.

As we learn that we do indeed, have freedom of thought, we begin to question that which we have been told is right. We ask for ourselves, "What do I believe?" And we seek answers. Sometimes we seek answers in school. We seek answers in church. Other times we seek the advice of friends. Sometimes we even seek the advice of our parents.

Sometimes, when we seek answers, we don't really want an answer - we want confirmation of what we just know to be true. And if the source we turn to doesn't agree, well, then they must be misinformed! And we are duty-bound to correct this aggregious oversight! So we saddle up our arguments, arm our intellect with our sharpest eloquence and sally forth, like Don Quixote, and seek to slay the windmill.

So what is it that you really want? Do you want the truth or do you want to feel good about what you already believe? And don't be fooled - it takes great courage to seek the truth.

Fortunately, there is a source of all truth that we can seek out and find - if we are willing to quiet our own arguments, calm our fears and put faith in the journey of discovery. We are all born with vast capabilities of intuition, conscience, spritual awareness, or whatever term you wish to use. Unfortunately, it is not loud, boistrous or demanding. It is quiet, subtle and giving.

It is only when we surrender our need to be right that we can hear the whisper of our souls, that invisible person within who knows all truth. It is only when we quiet our demands and send our arguments back to the stables, and simply accept that we can come to know what is right - FOR US.

Yep, it is entirely possible that two different people - even those from the same family - can both feel strongly from within what is right; only to realize, much to their surprise, that what was right for them is not the same for others!

Now here is the miracle - if you will accept it - it's okay that someone else believes differently than you. You can still be right and allow them to be right as well - because each is right for themselves.

Two words of advice. First, be careful of who you are listening to when you are seeking what is right. Do not rely on the opinions, no matter how well argued, of others. Find silence. Find peace. Find love, especially for those with whom you disagree, and then you will find truth.

Secondly, any time your need to be right causes hurt feelings, strained relationships, anger, negativity and frustration - you are wrong. Not that your opinion is necessarily wrong. Your need to be right is wrong. Very wrong. Every agent of chaos in the universe laughs when we have contention in our lives.

If you can state your position clearly, logically and even with passion, but with peace, then you are right - for you. And you will be okay both inside and out, if someone else disagrees. You will realize and recognize that the need to be right can and does destroy the most precious things in life you will ever have - your relationship with others.

After all, when you leave this world, the only two things you will be able to take with you are your experiences and your relationships - at least the ones you haven't destroyed with your need to be right.

Voices

Today, my father spoke to me. For those of you who have been following my blog, this may come as a shock, because you remember me relating to you the moment of his death. Yes, my father is dead - or should I say, no longer mortal? And yet he spoke to me. I would like to share with you some of the things that he said.

"You are a son; a loving and devoted son to both your mother and myself; and yes, you're much, much more than this! How can I put into words the sadness when something happens to you, or the happiness when I know you're happy? Or the pride when I see you progress in all the things you have done in your life, and it doesn't stop here. I will experience these things with your throughout eternity.


"Lane, you have made me one of the proudest fathers on this earth over one of his sons. And I know that the lump I've felt swell in my throat [which] brings tears to my eyes will happen again as I see you progress with your own life and the things [that] you will achieve."

No, I did not receive a ghostly visitor or a heavenly manifestation. I received something much more tangible - a letter. He wrote it to me on 19 November 1982, when I was 18 years old. I remember how much it meant to me when I received it - how much more it means to me now!

For some reason, unknown to me, I awoke this morning at 4:00. I went directly to my office, opened a file drawer and withdrew on of my journals (I have 11 volumes, thus far). I began to read of my teenage years - when I started writing in my journal, and I came across this faded, 4-page letter from my father.

Once again, I am reminded of how important journals are and will be - not just to my posterity, but to me. By being able to pick up my journal and read of past accounts, thoughts and feelings, I gain a much greater insight into who I am today - and how I got here.

Let me share another entry with you.

11 October 1982

 I have made the decision to let my wife, after marriage, read this journal that she may more fully understand me. I have no knowledge of whom I will marry (I had a steady girlfriend at the time, whom I did not marry). I don't know if I've even met my wife yet, but Honey, please realize as you read the relationships I've had with other girls, [that] the feelings I had were written by a 16, 17 and  18-year-old boy who could never know who is right for him. I will always hold a special place for these girls in my heart, but you are the one I've chosen to be with me throughout time and all eternity."

As you can imagine, this was a great surprise to me today - I don't remember even writing those words, let alone having made that decision. And that is the miracle of journals. You can record - to a degree - who you are at the moment, and it will surprise you in later years.

At times you will read in amazement your own wisdom for one so young (you always seem young in your journals), and laugh at the folly of your youth. You will remember with fondness, past glories and fun events, and will read with pride and renewed determination of the difficulties which you have overcome.

I have been writing in journals since 25 December 1979, when I received my first journal as a Christmas gift from my parents. Have I written every day? No. Have I recorded every major event in my life? Again, regrettably, no. But I have compiled a history - somewhat - of 31 years of my life; for me, my wife and my posterity. And it will continue as long as I have the capacity to do so.

My friend, please, I am begging you, keep a journal. Please create this great foundation of support for yourself and your family! No matter who you are, how old you are, or what you have done, your journal will be treasured. You will treasure it and your loved ones will, too.

Here is a letter, written by my grandfather:

February 2, 1981 (My grandmother's birthday)

Dear Olga, Mother and most of all my loving wife and sweet-heart that I have owned for 52 years, 11 months and 22 days. You are the most precious part of my life and I am looking forward to having a few more years to follow, with pleasure and happiness.

And have a happy day to start the ball rolling

All my love and best, Your Loving Husband

P.S. Buy something special for your birthday. Sorry I never got you a card

Today, my father spoke to me. What a joy it was to read his words, written in his beautiful penmanship! Oh, how I wish he would have kept a journal. I could surely use his advice. Today I was reminded that I have come from a family of love - generations of love. Love so deep that I cannot comprehend it.

All of this and more is my miracle of the day - because of a journal.

Anticipation

Time is...
Too slow for those who wait,
Too swift for those who fear,
Too long for those who grieve,
Too short for those who rejoice.
But for those who love,
Time is not.
            -- Henry Van Dyke

"The anticipation is dreadful! I hope it lasts!" Said Willy Wonka in the movie, Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory - the one starring Gene Wilder, made in 1971. I love that statement. Anticipation can be the savory sauce that gives spice to life.

Unfortunately, it can also be the curdle in your milk. How often have you anticipated an event, say a movie release, and it wasn't what you expected? If you haven't had this experience, wait.

And the problem lies in our imagination and expectation. I have found that the most wonderful anticpation happens when I don't know what to expect - like Christmas. You don't know what you are going to get. You only know what you have given others. In other words, I guess, the best anticipation comes when you give instead of expect to get.

You see, you can always control what you give and to whom you give. You don't have much control over the other side of the equation - what you get and from whom you get it. When you give, you know that even if you are never recognized for your gift (service is often that way), you will feel a wonderful, happy glow inside. You will know that for one brief period of time, you were doing good. You were good.

Can you stand the wait? Is the anticipation getting to you yet? Wait.

Another aspect of anticipation lies in the planning. Spontaneous giving is always wonderful - I fondly remember helping an elderly couple with a flat tire on the highway, but that's another story.

Giving with a plan - mwa ha ha ha ha ha! It's delicious! You choose your target - they don't even know. They are going quietly about their business, caught in a rut. You watch them. Their shoulders are a bit slumped, they seem weary - or not. Maybe they have a spring in their step - it doesn't matter. What matters is that you know something about them that they, themselves don't know. You know that soon, very soon, they will receive a gift.

And the gift doesn't have to be grand or expensive. It can be small and cost nothing. But is is from you. In your mind you ask yourself, "Do I give it anonymously or do I let them know from whence it came?" You ponder, "Do I give it to them in the morning, or in the evening?" Can you feel it? Isn't this fun?

How's your anticipation meter? Mine's going off the chart, and I haven't even started planning yet!

Finally you decide the day and the time. You gather all the resources necessary and....

And....

And...

How's your anticipation meter now?

Quietly, without note or fanfare, you  give. The recipient doesn't even know, as yet, that they have been given a gift! It could be a smile, a cookie, a hug, or just a loving thought. And then the miracle happens!

The miracle of reflection - every emotion that you put into your gift comes back to you, reinvigorated and stronger than when you released it! The anticipation you had is fulfilled and you bask in the glow of reflected warmth and love.

Hope for Eternity

So here I am at LDS Hospital in Salt Lake City, Utah waiting. My wife is undergoing yet another test to (hopefully) determine what has been the cause of so much abdominal pain and difficulty with eating. This is nothing new - we have been dealing with this since July, 2006. And yet, it is new - new doctor, new procedures and tests - new hope.

How many times can a person have their hopes dashed to pieces and still find something inside that whispers, "Someday... someday..."? It has been my experience that there is no end to being able to find hope and and peace - even in the most difficult of circumstances.

Probably the most difficult test of this resolve came when my father, only 66 years of age at the time was diagnosed with Glioblastoma Multiforme. Sounds dreadful doesn't it? Well, it is. It is a 100% fatal cancer of the brain. Unlike most cancers, which are caused by constant replication of malignant cells, this cancer mutates healthy cells instead.

The day that they diagnosed my father, I spent the evening reading all I could about the disease - did you notice that is is capitalized when spelled? Only the worst diseases get that. Every article I read and every story told seemed to be another brick in my spiritual backpack. Soon I felt the weight of what lay in store.

My parents, I don't think, had truly come to understand that he had only a few weeks - a couple of months at most. But I did. I shut down my computer, turned out the light to my office and walked into our bedroom. I quietly climbed into bed so as not to wake my wife and wept. It was like a dam burst inside my heart, and unable to control myself, I sobbed.

My dear, sweet wife woke up, turned on the lamp - somehow the light made it a little better - and held me. And I cried. I was 40 years old and I cried like I had never cried in my life. I thought I was going to suffocate because I was sobbing so deeply - but I couldn't stop.

The human body cannot sustain such emotion - it takes too much energy. Eventually, perhaps only a few minutes later, perhaps an hour later - I don't remember - I cried myself out. I had no more tears to shed. And then the miracle happened.

Somewhere, somehow, I began to think about my father's life. I began to think about all that he had taught me and all that he had done for me. He wasn't the perfect parent - far from it, in fact. Nevertheless, I realized that he had given me much upon which I had built my life and my attitudes to life.

Then I began to think about eternity. I realized that the human brain, because it is made up of finite material - material that will eventually decay and return to dust - cannot comprehend with much clarity, the concept of eternity. It is only in the imagination - the intangible part of your soul that you can comprehend. It was then that I realized that there must be more to life than this mortal existence. More than just faith or religious belief, I knew. Logic supported my knowledge.

Life, if anything is energy. First law of thermodynamics: Energy can never be destroyed. It can only be altered or redirected. Life can never be destroyed. Whether one believes in heaven or hell or anything in between is their decision. But no matter your belief, life does go on. I knew that with more certainty than I had ever known anything before. Three months later, my father died.

I was there. Right beside him, holding his hand when he gasped his final breath. I felt his soul leave - like a wind that brushed my mind, I felt it. I knew then that I was right - life is eternal. My mother, of course, broke down, as did my wife. I didn't. I was at peace. I wasn't happy, but I was at peace. The only negative feeling I had was one of regret. Regret that I hadn't asked him for his blessing before he left.

I suppose sitting in a hospital makes one think of mortality - and immortality. And I have hope. I hope that the doctor will be able to find something that can be corrected to give my wife relief. She deserves it. But if not, life goes on. We will continue to hope, to pray and to believe.

Valor

The story is told of a young man who, for his final examination in Philosophy, was given just one question that he needed to answer. This question represented 1/3 of his overall grade. The question was, "What is courage?" His reply, which he submitted and then immediately left the classroom was, "This is."

Courage is probably the most important of all virtues, because without it, all others get trampled by the pressures we all endure. When faced with a moral dilemma, it is courage that helps us define our convictions and then hold fast to our decisions, come what may.

I was in the Army for 8 years, and I had the opportunity to compete for "Soldier of the Quarter" for the entire 7th Infantry Division. I had already won the accolade of Soldier of the Quarter for the Battalion and had prepared strenuously for this prestigious event. I didn't win. I missed one question, and the winner did not. The question that I was unable to answer satisfactorily was, "What is the definition of valor?"

Standing in front of the review board, my quick and ready reply was, "Courage." My answer hung there for a few moments and one of the officers pressed, "Have you anything to add to your answer?" I puzzled for a moment about what he was seeking, and not finding any better response, I replied, "No Sir." He then said, "Sergeant Jessen, valor is courage - but it is courage under fire or in the face of mortal danger."

I have never forgotten that incident. I often reflect how many times in my life I should have shown valor and did not. And for the moment, I would like to redefine valor to say that it is, indeed, courage under fire - under the fire of ridicule, criticism, and scrutiny. For most of us, this type of valor is the hardest of all to muster.

Most soldiers and marines who are awarded medals for valor often say that they didn't think, they just acted and did what they thought was right. And that, I believe, is the lesson. They didn't think because they didn't have to. They had trained, rigorously, on what to do in combat situations. In other words, they had decided long before they ever saw combat how they would react under fire.

And perhaps that is the easiest way to summon courage in difficult circumstances - to have already decided what is right for you - before you are ever faced with ridicule, criticism and scrutiny. To have determined that you would not surrender your values under pressure.

I remember in junior high school an incident that taught me why it is important to have courage in defending your values - you see, I failed to do so. Throughout grade school and most of junior high school, I was picked on and ridiculed by most of the other kids - violently, at times. There was one boy, named Brian, who did not. He accepted me the way I was - poor and unclean in appearance. He did not label or criticize or make fun, and I considered him a friend.

One day, in gym class, we were to begin learning about wrestling. Much to the surprise of the other boys, I was unbeatable. Not because I was massive or strong, but because I had an older brother who was much bigger than I and who constantly tried to pin me down. I had learn to be quick and how to use leverage to my advantage - the two traits of a good wrestler.

In the locker room, many of the boys who had been my tormentors in earlier years look at me with newfound respect and congratulated me on my skills. It felt wonderful! Brian, however, failed miserably and was unable to pin or even escape from any of his opponents.

As we stood at the door of the gym waiting for the bell which would release us for lunch, the boys who normally tormented me began to make fun of Brian. Quickly, I remembered that he had stuck up for me many times before, and that I should do the same for him. Instead, I joined in the taunting about his lack of ability as a wrestler. I was glad that, for once, I was not the object of scorn. My courage evaporated in my need to be accepted.

The next day, Brian failed to get on the school bus. That was not unusual - most kids missed the bus at least once or twice. However, when we settled into our desks in home room - first period, the principal came over the intercom system to make his usual morning announcements. That day, however, he was very somber and said, "We would like to offer our condolences to the family of Brian _______ who died last night. Funeral services will be held on...." I will never remember the rest of the announcement because I ran to the bathroom to throw up.

Never surrender your courage when you know what is right. The consequences can have dire affect. Most of the time, the consequences will go unseen, but what they do to you inside can weaken you to a point where you no longer know what your values are.

Decide ahead of time what you will stand up for and what you will not stand for. Stick to your decision, and if worse comes to worst, you will always be able to look back and say, "I did what was right, no matter what."

Simple Things

The greatest home theater system in the world will do you little good when you are out of toilet paper. Not that we have the greatest home theater system in the world - or any home theater system, for that matter. But we do have toilet paper.

This morning I was brushing my teeth, and I happened to glance down at the container where the spare rolls of toilet paper are stacked, and it was completely full, and I smiled. Then I wondered, why did that make me smile? It's because that, although it really is a simple thing, it is important.

I think that most of us found the world to be magical when we were young. We could spend hours watching the busy activity of a colony of ants as they scurried back and forth in an orderly procession bearing food back to the colony for storage.

Or a caterpillar inch its way along a leaf. Once,as a child, we found the chrysalis of a Monarch caterpillar and took it home. We watched it day after day, all winter long, as the magic happened inside. When the new butterfly emerged we had a birthday party and all sang happy birthday to the new arrival. As it floated off on the breeze we waved goodbye, and I always imagined that I had a friend out there, somewhere, that would speak well of me to the other butterflies.

What good does it do to know the exact molecular configuration of a polypeptide when you don't know how to smile? Is there any magic at all in knowing the exact number in your bank balance at any given moment, if you don't know how to give love? Scrooge found out the importance of the simple.

I am not saying that the complicated things of this world are not important. I am merely suggesting that all of us need to be more childlike (not childish) at times, and see the simple. When we do, we will be reminded of all the miracles that surround us.

Or if you want to escape into a world of wonder, read Peter Pan. Not the Disney picture book, but the novel by J. M. Barrie. Clearly, here is a novelist who could see and remember the magic of the simple things - like a shadow. Remember, Peter cries when he cannot reattach his shadow...

A simple gesture, a smile, a hug, a pat on the shoulder, often does more to lift the spirits of another that an entire hour of intense therapy. Feel the magic inside and close your eyes and listen. Right now I hear the ticking of my wall clock and my mind is swept back to childhood when I would listen to the watch on my daddy's wrist - tic, tic, tic... magical.

I hear my wife outside digging in the dirt. She likes dirt. Well, not dirt. But dirt - you know, the kind you find in gardens and outside in the yard. She likes to dig in it. For her, this is magical. She knows that by the simple process of poking around a bit, turning the soil a couple of times and then dropping in a magic bean (okay, its a seed), a miracle will happen.

And what a miracle it is. I don't know how to create a flower! I only know how to plant a seed. I don't know how to manufacture a tree, but I surely do like them. Miracles.

In your busy, hectic day, always remember to set aside a moment for the simple things. Sometimes there is magic in just putting your feet up. Feeling the pressure drain away and the aching throb lessen is a a miracle of relief.

Oh, how I love this life of ours! Get rid of the complications when you can and find the simple things that will always, always, make you smile!

Heroes

As we meander down the path of life, we bump into all types and personalities. With some we share a moment and with others we share a life. I have learned that, sometimes, those we bump into have long passed on, others are still here, and some are yet to arrive. Of all these, there are a few who stand out as examples of who we would like to emulate - our heroes.

I would like to honor some of the heroes in my life and share with you why I look up to them. Each has characteristics that I admire and flaws that I understand. It is by seeing and choosing the better part that I can find a path that makes me better, too.

First and foremost is my wife. I know it sounds corny but she really is my best friend. We were pen-pals for 6 years before we officially dated, and my life would not be complete without her. She is my hero for three reasons:

1) She is an awesome mother. All her life she wanted to be a mom, and she has never, not once, felt that her children were a burden or "the enemy". And they know it. She has raised them to be wonderful adults who have great capacities for love and strength.

2) She is a savior to her father. She donated her kidney to him. But that is the way she has always been. She will give anything she has, if it will help another. Not because she seeks honor or recognition, but because she has true compassion.

3) She is courageous. She has had to deal with some very serious illnesses and trauma in her life, and yet she soldiers on. She never gives up, but forces herself out of bed to take care of me, her children and our home - sometimes even when in agonizing pain.

My next hero is my son. This young man will change the world. He is visionary and he is determined. He has an amazing talent for not quitting on things that matter to him. I also admire his musical talent. Many people have similar musical capabilities, but I am privileged to witness his talent first hand.

My next hero is my daughter. She has always been honest. She always tells the truth, even when it hurts. And yet she is also my sunshine. She, like her mother, is extremely compassionate and caring. She has a talent, one of the most powerful talents I have ever witnessed - she has the ability to make others smile and feel accepted. Few people can genuinely do so.

I also admire George Washington. I admire his courage and faith in the face of impossible odds. His humility was his greatest strength. After holding office as President of the United States, he willingly stepped down from office. Most others, throughout history, would have held their positions as long as possible and only surrendered after much strife and even bloodshed.

I admire Thomas Jefferson. His vision of what it meant to be a free country was a catalyst for change. He saw the importance of allowing the people to choose for themselves their own society and destiny.

I admire James Madison. His concern for the welfare of the people gave us the Bill of Rights. Were it not for his determination, we would not have the liberties we enjoy today, and our Constitution would most likely have failed.

I admire my ancestor, John Tanner. He was a wealthy land owner from New York who gave all that he had, and was even willing to lay down his life for his faith. It was his sacrifice that saved his new-found religious leaders from having to sacrifice the first temple they ever built. Once he accepted this new faith, he never looked back - only forward, through great trial and tribulation.

I admire my paternal grandfather. He provided for his family through the Great Depression and, in spite of losing a leg to an industrial accident, was a self-made man of success. He was a brilliant mechanic and loved his grandchildren with all of his heart.

I admire my mother. She is the hardest working person I have ever known. She provided for our family in spite of having never graduating high school. She continues to work even to this day.

I admire my brother. Many times, when other children would have picked on me, he took their abuse. He always stuck up for me and believed in me.

I admire my sister. She is willful, stubborn and hard-headed. And it is these traits that have brought her great success in life. But I admire her softer side - the one that she doesn't let the rest of the world see. She has a great heart.

I also admire my boyhood scout leaders, church leaders and current church leaders. They were all men of integrity and honor.

This is, of course, a short list of the men and women I admire. So why have I shared this with you? Because I believe that when we take time to reflect upon those people whom we admire and respect, we realize our own values. Their strengths are like a homing beacon, keeping me on course and pointed in the right direction.

Now here comes the fun part. I try to see something admirable in every person I meet. I don't always succeed, but I can usually see something in the other people I meet from which I can learn how to be a better me. As Aesop said, "If I and two others travel a road, one will always be my teacher and the other my student. And who is which depends on the matter at hand."

Seeing the Invisible

I have long believed in the saying that I am not a mortal person having a spiritual experience. Rather, I am a spiritual person having a mortal experience. I first started to ponder this when I was in high school, and being somewhat of a tease, I would tell my friends that they didn't really exist.

The reason I gave for that statement was that everything I see, touch, hear, taste or smell exists only in my mind. Why? Because that is where I perceive it. If my mind couldn't process the signal from my senses, they would not exist - for me. Just like a blind person doesn't spend money on light bulbs.

Over the years I have come to realize that, although I was teasing my childhood friends, I had stumbled onto something very profound. My perception creates the person I see. And this is true of all of us. Bigotry is the evil example of this truth. If I perceive someone as a bad person, no matter what he or she does, I will condemn it. Even if they do something good for me, I will look for and identify an ulterior motive - even if I have to jump to a wrong conclusion (see my blog about questions).

On the other hand, if I see someone as a good person, even when they make mistakes, I will look upon them with compassion and understanding. I will seek to help, guide, and if nothing else, just listen. And here is the miracle. Everyone can be a good person - I just have to see them as such. In other words, I have to see the invisible.

If I am a spiritual person having a mortal experience, then so are they. That means that the spirit within them - the eternal part of their being - is good. Their spirit and my spirit came from the same source - the source of ultimate love. And that is a source that cannot create anything but that which is good and necessary.

I love this joke. Mrs. Smith was known throughout town as a woman who could always find something good in everyone. She would always point out the good qualities of her fellow man to her neighbors. One day, a minister decided to test her ability. While visiting he said, "Surely, Mrs. Smith, you cannot find anything good to say about Satan!" The old woman thought for a moment and then replied, "Well, I can say that he is a very hard worker," and with a twinkle in her eye she continued with, "which is more than I can say for some preachers."

Seeing the invisible is recognizing that it is in the invisible of our minds that we see everything. Our perceptions - our thoughts - are our realities. It does take practice, but if you simply choose to see your fellowman as a spiritual being - not a perfect being - then you will see that there is good inside. And this requires choosing to love rather than to judge, label and condemn.

When we let go of our perceptions and send out love, that is what colors our perceptions. We see through the eyes of love and fell compassion. We see that the those who have done wrong - those who have hurt us and deceived us - as troubled souls.

I also love the saying, "There but for the Grace of God, go I." Who is to say that if I had walked the path of the other person and had been taught the lessons in life that they had, that I, too, would not have behaved similarly? And that is how we save ourselves and our humanity.

We are the only creatures on this planet that have the ability to see the invisible. So I am sending out an invitation to the world. Please look for the invisible person who resides within the man, woman or child standing before you! Please look for the invisible person encased within your own body!


If more of us would see the invisible, more of us would see reality. More of us would see beauty, because, as Tagore says, "When we see beauty, we know it as truth."

Faith is a Shovel

I am only One,

But I AM one.

I cannot do everything,

But I can do something.

All that I can do,

I ought to do.

All that I can do,

By the Grace of God,

I will do.

            -- Helen Keller

I have a saying, I don't know where I got it, but it goes like this: I wondered why somebody didn't do something. Then I remembered I am somebody!

I find it interesting how many people talk about faith; and yet fail to do. Faith is not a state of being it is a state of action. My brother used to tell me that if I were to have the faith to move a mountain, that I should get a shovel.

Great works - even small works - start with great faith. If we want more of anything in our lives we must have the faith necessary to make it so. In other words if you want more happiness, don't go looking for it - be it. Be happy. Have faith that you can be happy. Not every day. Not even all day. But just right now, this moment, for just a moment, be happy. I give you permission. You don't need my permission, you know!

If you want more love in your life, be love. How can anyone with a sour, sad, faithless disposition expect to have love when that are thus oriented? That would be like standing in a field at dawn and facing west and wondering, where is the sun? You see it all around you, but you can't see the sun - you are looking in the wrong direction. Look inside yourself and find your own love, be your own love, and other love - outside love will find you. You won't have to go looking for it, because it will already be there.

You cannot look to the outside world for those things you want (and need) in life. You have to look within first. You have to develop a faith that it will appear, and then be that which you desire. If you want to be a mountain mover, start shoveling. 

Our inner world - our inner dialog creates our outer reality. If we cannot see ourselves as happy, loving people, we cannot ever become so. If we cannot give love to those around us, we cannot receive the love others would give us.

As long as you believe that other people, events or conditions are necessary for you to have those things you want in life - you will never have them. You and you alone are responsible for who you are, what you believe and what you become. It is your divine right to set your own course.

The only exception to this is when your course would take that same right from another. We must learn to allow others their otherness. We must recognize that different is only that - different. As long as that difference does not disallow others their right to be different, then we must accept that their difference is okay.

Faith is belief in action. It is hope with legs. It is life with living. Have faith in yourself. Do those things that will allow you to be all that you wish to be.

Labels

"Sticks and stones may break my bones, but names can never hurt me." I must have said that every day during my grade school years. I was picked on - a lot. But even as I said it, I knew it wasn't true. It isn't true - never was. Names hurt. Labels hurt.

If we let them.

You see, now that I am no longer in grade school, I've come to realize that the only time someone else's comments can hurt me, make me angry, make me sad, or make me frustrated is if I allow them to.

Just because someone calls me stupid doesn't make me stupid. I didn't suddenly lose IQ when they said that. Can you imagine if that were the case? Someone says "you're stupid" and suddenly your IQ drops! I think within the course of a week all of us would have such low IQ's as to need institutionalized care!

Eleanore Roosevelt's statement (and I paraphrase) that no one can make us feel inferior without our permission is true. We need to recognize that when others put labels on us, it labels them - not us. All it proves is that they are someone who needs to label others. It doesn't prove that we are what they say we are.

Recognize that when others label, there is an intention behind the barb. What they call us is not nearly as important as why did they label us in the first place? What is going on inside them that they need to spit out this label? Are they feeling angry? Jealous? The barb is about them - not about you.

So what about the labels we give ourselves? What does it mean when we say to ourselves, "Lane, you're an idiot?" Like any other person saying it, just because the label has been placed, it doesn't change who I am - unless I allow it to.

You see, when someone spits out a label, it represents what's inside. To borrow an analogy from Dr. Wayne Dyer, when you squeeze an orange, what do you get? Orange juice. Why? Because that's what's inside!


If, when someone feels pressure, either from you or some other source, and it causes them to spit out a label, it does so because that's what's inside of them. Whatever emotion they carry around inside them that causes them to criticize and label others comes out when under pressure.

So what about the labels we put on ourselves? First of all, when you feel inclined to label yourself (or after the label is placed), ask yourself, what made me say that? What emotion was I feeling when I labeled myself? It was, I assure you, a negative emotion, most likely related to fear.

You were afraid of something, and that fear put pressure on you that caused you to spit out that label. The fear could be anything - fear of the criticism of others, fear of failure when compared to others, fear of offending others - the list is endless.

And here is the most wonderful part of the story - the miracle. You choose whether or not to accept the fear as real. Fear is a choice. You choose to accept it, you choose to believe it and you choose to let it label you.


The next time you feel the need to label - yourself or others, stop and question your emotions. You can control your emotions by just choosing to do so! No, it's not easy, but it is oh so worth it. Imagine how well you would feel - how well you would function, if instead of labeling yourself, you complimented yourself instead! How much better would your day be?


Just take it one moment at a time. Don't worry about the rest of the day, tomorrow or the rest of the year. Just think about the moment. Make a choice now that the next time you want to label yourself that you are going to choose another path, that you are going to let go of the negative emotion that spawned your label and seek instead an emotion based in love. Love for yourself, love for the world in which we live, love for your family, your fellow man (or woman); love of anything. It is impossible to create a label when you feel love.

Of Purpose and Chaos

Deepak Chopra explains chaos theory by using an example of Grand Central Station in New York. Imagine that you were able to look at the activities taking place at Grand Central Station - all of them. From the surface, everything seems chaotic; people are rushing here and there in a seemingly state of chaos. But at a much deeper level, we know that there is order to all of it. Every person that is rushing about - and those that are not - are doing that action for a reason. There is no chaos. Everything is happening for a reason.

In other words, according to chaos theory, there is no chaos at all! Everything that happens in life does so for a reason.

Why are you here? Not at this blog, but in existence? Why do you live right now in this moment of time? It is not chaotic; there is a reason - what is it? In other words, what is your purpose? Everything exists for a reason; a purpose. What is yours?

All of us, at one point or another, are faced with this question, and finding the answer is the adventure of a lifetime - literally. It is an exciting crusade of discovery and experience. It is a wondrous awareness that we seek. Man (or woman) know thyself. That is the task at hand.

One other clue about your purpose. It is unique. Your purpose is not the same as mine, just as two passengers at Grand Central Station hurrying toward the same train have different purposes; although they may travel together for a time, they have different reasons for being there. Your purpose is for you alone and it is vital. Vital because only you can accomplish it.

Know that you are here to accomplish something that only you can do. It doesn't have to be earth-shattering or history-making. But it has to be done. A perfect example of this is my father. From a materialistic and historical perspective, he didn't amount to much.

My father was born with a brain injury that left the right side of his body with palsy; unable to be used - or so the "experts" said. At a relatively young age - 32, I believe (I was very young - 3 or 4 years old), he injured his back and was totally disabled for the rest of his life. At one point he was addicted to pain pills and other narcotics prescribed indiscriminately by his doctors. He never held another job.

He died at the age of 66 from a brain tumor. After he was diagnosed and told that his condition was terminal, he shared with me some of the many regrets he had. How he had wanted to accomplish so much more with his life, and would now never have the opportunity. And then he shared the things that he wouldn't ever do different; things of which he felt accomplished and proud.

And here's the point. His life was not unfulfilled. He had accomplished his purpose - several of them, actually. One of which is me, writing this blog. Late night discussions had with my father as a teenager and young adult shaped my understanding of life, and set my feet upon a path of looking for that in life which cannot be seen, but which directs all that we do.

His sadness and regret - of which he was unaware - was that he never understood what his purpose was. He wanted to do things that would be historical and earth shattering. But that was not why he was here.

All of us are faced with this same difficulty. Finding out what our purpose in life might be, and the only way that I know to discover your purpose is to surrender. Give in to that hunch that you have inside you. Let out your inner, hidden voice. Give action to that which you feel deeply inside you.

Each of us has a unique, special blend of talents, thoughts, ideas and experiences that make us who we are. We simply need to get in touch with those things. I know it is not easy - believe me, I know. But it can be done. You will recognize your purpose because it will feel natural for you - you would do it (will do it in many cases) without reward or compensation. You will feel yourself touch that infinite source of all that is when you are engaged in your purpose.

Whatever forces have brought you to this point - here, right now, reading this blog - they have wanted you to receive this message. Perhaps it is one that you have heard before and one that you will have to hear many times yet to come before you allow your purpose to take life. It has taken me 46 years.

All my life I could sense and see things that others couldn't - or wouldn't - understand. I have read hundreds, possibly even thousands of articles, books and papers on self awareness, self improvement and making the journey within. And all of that was so that I could write this blog.

And here is the funny thing about it. The realization that this is a part of my purpose and what I am here for came to me in the bathtub! As sure as if I had been struck by lightning, I realized that I needed to start writing this blog. I didn't know if anyone would read it - still don't for that matter - but that wasn't important. I know that there is purpose in what I am doing, and I feel something inside that I wish I could just hand to everyone that I meet - JOY! Complete, total joy. I love this because I know that is is something that I am uniquely suited to do - that I am meant to do.

Whatever it takes; however long it takes; where ever your search takes you, find your purpose and let it loose.

Don't worry about what other's might think. Don't worry about whether or not it will "make a difference," because all things make a difference. My father made a difference - a great difference.

Questions

Our minds are amazing things. From the moment we are born (probably even before that), it seeks to understand the world around it. It seeks to answer questions.

We've all experienced a time that, when the lights are low, we see something that gives us a start, and the question that immediately is sent to our brains is, "What's that?" Not in words, but in feelings. It all happens so fast that we don't have time to put it into words.

And an amazing thing happens. Our brain gives us an answer - not always the right answer - but an answer, nonetheless. I noticed this as a universal human condition when, as a teenager, I saw the movie, On Golden Pond with Kathrine Hepburn and Henry Fonda.

In it, Norman and Ethel Thayer (Fonda and Hepburn) are surprised by a visit from their daughter, Chelsea (played by Jane Fonda - Henry Fonda's daughter) and her boyfriend, Billy Ray, and his son, Billy. That first night, Ethel and Chelsea decide to go skinny dipping in the lake and invite Billy Ray to come along. Billy Ray, a Los Angeles dentist slowly makes his way to the lake. He never arrives because he keeps stopping, fearfully peering into the darkness, trying to make sense of the dark shadows and shapes all around him. At one point, Ethel, wrapped in a robe and toweling her hair dry comes along the path and Billy Ray stops her and asks, pointing in the darkness, "Is... is that a bear?" Ethel laughs and says, "No. That would be a bush."

You see, Billy Ray's mind, trying to make sense of the world around it had reached the conclusion that the bush must be a bear. And here is the important part - Billy Ray's fear was the same for a bush as it would have been for a bear. It was the same!

So how important are the questions that we ask ourselves? Probably the most important questions that we will ever ask. If you ask yourself, "Why can't I do this?" your brain will go to work to find an answer, and it will find one - even if it is the wrong answer! You can reach conclusions that limit you and rob you of any chance of success, simply because you asked yourself the wrong question. 


What would have happened if you would have asked the question, "How can I make this work?" or "What do I need to do to get this right?" Your brain would devote its time and energy to answering those questions. Even if it takes a lifetime. You see, the other thing about the brain is that it never forgets a question that you pose to it. 


The questions we pose might lose out in priority to other needs and questions, but it is never forgotten. An example of this is when you are trying to remember someone's name and it just escapes you. You rack your brain for the answer to the question, "What is his name?" Finally the moment is passed and you no longer need the person's name, and what happens? Yep. The question is answered, and you remember the person's name.


So the next thing we must explore is how does the brain prioritize the questions posed to it? The answer is two-fold. Questions fueled by emotion take priority. The greater the emotion, the greater the priority. The other method of prioritizing is repetition. When you repeat the same question to your brain over and over, it gains greater and greater priority for your brain. When you repeat the same question with emotion, you have truly unlocked phenomenal power.

Always pay attention to the questions you ask yourself - before they are even formed in words, and ask those questions that will lift you and inspire you rather than depress and confuse you. Don't ask from a position of fear but ask from a position of confidence that, given enough time, your brain will find the answer - even if it takes years, you will get the answers you need to solve any problem.

Of Service and Love

There is a proverb that goes something like this:

If you want to be happy for an hour - take a nap...

If you want to be happy for a day - go fishing...

If you want to be happy for a year - inherit some money...

If you want to be happy for a lifetime - serve others.

I have never been able to be of service to someone else without developing a feeling of respect, friendship and love for that person. I better understand their lives and their needs and their souls. And that is miraculous.

What I always had difficulty with was allowing others to serve me. I don't hesitate (well, not too much) when called upon to do service, or when I see others that I can help. However, stubborn, ol' me just won't ask for help from others. What a shame. Thankfully, I have been forced to learn otherwise.

Last September I shattered my right tibial plateau and developed compartment syndrome - which I have explained in earlier postings. I found myself in a position where I could do nothing - well, very little - for myself. I couldn't even go to the bathroom without someone half-carrying me there.

Day after day, week after week, I had to rely on others to help me. I had those who helped me change my clothes, those who helped me care for my wounds, those who helped learn to walk again. And something wonderful happened. I found that I truly loved these men and women.

I know that helping me was part of their jobs as doctors, nurses and rehabilitation therapists. Nevertheless, they did something for me that I can never repay - they gave me my life back. How can I not love them?

Recently, I was in the area of the rehab clinic and the hospital where I was cared for. I had some time, and decided to visit my caregivers and express my gratitude. It was as if all the parts of the jigsaw puzzle of my life for the past 6 months came together to form a perfect picture.

I hugged each of them - without embarrassment or fear; after all, they had definitely seen me at my worst! And I thanked them for working with such dedication and faith in me. Tears were shed and smiles were big. Moreover, I could see the other patients - patients that were now in the same position I was in just a few months ago - looking at me with hope and trust.

Yep. Service engenders love. Let others serve you and you will have a friend for life. Serve others and you will be someone else's friend for life. It is service that will save us all - or condemn us, if we fail one another. I applaud Disney's current crusade to inspire 1 million people to do service. I hope that we all can seek ways to serve without a trip to Disneyland. Because when you truly serve, you are on the road to heaven anyway.

Your Infinite Worth

As Americans, we believe, as is stated in the Declaration of Independence, that all men are created equal. We tend to forget that the most important word in that belief is created, not equal. Whether you believe in a Divine Creator or not, you are a created being - your parents can attest to that.

At birth, we are all equally dependent upon others for our very survival. We depend on them for food, shelter and above all, love. We are loving organisms. We can feel deep within us that great emotion that gives life to living. Without love we may be alive, but we are not living.

The most important kind of love is love of self. And this is where equality stops and wonder can begin. Isn't it wonderful that you are different from every other human being? Isn't it wonderful that you have your own thoughts and ideas that are unique to you, and you alone?

Many people don't like being different. This is because they long for acceptance. The problem is that before they can ever feel accepted by any other person, they must accept themselves, as Cromwell said, "Warts and all." You are the perfect example of you. No one else can compare. You are special because you are one of a kind.

Of all of the cell configurations that came together to make you - WOW! It blows my mind to think of all the infinite possibilities - and those infinite possibilities made YOU! How great is that? There will never be another you. There will never be another being who has the necessary combinations of your DNA and your experiences, both seen and unseen.

Henry Marsh, a world-renowned track and field athlete once said to me, "You are the sum total of all your experiences." That means that everything you have gone through - the good and the bad - has molded and shaped you to become the unique and special person that you are.

Who wants to fit in when there is a space, a purpose, a reason for being that only you can fill? There are things that must be done - things that will set conditions and circumstances in motion that only you can do. Like the line of standing dominoes, if you aren't there to start the chain of events, nobody else will.

Do this. Stand in front of a mirror. Stop looking down at your waist or up at your hairline! Look in your eyes - no, don't look away. Keep looking. Look deeper. The shadows that haunt your soul and would hide your uniqueness fade away as you look into the mirrored reflection of your soul.

You're still in front of the mirror, right? Good. Stop comparing yourself to others - even your former self (you can't go back in time, no matter what Hollywood says). Look at the unique flecks of color contained in your irises (the colored part of your eye) - NOBODY has that same pattern (not even your identical twin). Look how the colors blend and harmonize. Your soul can and should be the same with your heart - in harmony.

Feel the love - let it out. Let go of your fear. Other loves in your life may fade, be taken tragically away or walk spitefully away from you - and this hurts like no other pain in the world. But the love you get from yourself will never leave you, it will never abandon you. You can trust your heart to yourself - it will be in good hands. Love yourself and you will feel yourself respond with love for you.

I know that it sounds like I am talking about two different people, and in a way, I am. You are a combination of the person you are when you are with the world, and the person you are when you are with yourself. Realize that yourself will always support you, love you and be there for you. You will never, never be alone.

If you could only see yourself the way the universe sees you! You are a god or goddess - unique and powerful of thought and emotion. Your inner world is your domain of magic and power. Always take time to spend time with yourself - your true self. Who cares what everyone else thinks? As long as you love yourself and yourself loves you - who cares?

High School Miracle

The following is told by a retired high school principal.

"I once attended a swim meet at the local high school. It was a relay meet, meaning all of the races were relay races of varying length and stroke.

"The event was the girls 200 m freestyle relay. As all of the girls climbed onto the starting blocks, there was a delay as the swimmer in lane three was helped onto the block; she had muscular dystrophy.

"At the starting gun, all of the swimmers leaped gracefully into the water. All except lane three; she just tumbled forward headlong into the water. It seemed a miracle to me that she could even swim at all. Her arms were mobile only from the elbow down, and she had no reach. Her legs were so weak they couldn't kick against the water.

"She had barely begun her long 25 m journey to the other side of the pool, when the healthier, more capable swimmers, touched the far wall and were on their return laps. The faster swimmers returned and touched the second relay, and these swimmers too, leaped gracefully into the water. Still this valiant, courageous young woman continued her long and laborious journey. I was surprised she even made it to the far wall.

"By that time, all the other swimmers were finished; all of the relays complete; the race was over. I expected her to end the race and climb out of the far side of the pool. Instead she turned, and with a moan of exhaustion, began the painful return to the near side of the pool.

"The true miracle that I witnessed was not just this valiant young woman's effort, but the behavior of the other swimmers, coaches and spectators. As this woman gave her all just to complete the race, these others began wildly cheering at one valiant spirit's determination to endure to the end.

"Stroke after stroke, we could hear her ragged breathing as her will to finish pushed her body as far as it could go. When she returned to the near side of the pool and ever-so-lightly touched the starting block that place erupted! This valiant spirit had won the race, even though she didn't finish in 1st place. It would've been easy for the other swimmers to mock or tear down her efforts, but they were valiant enough to recognize a hero when they saw one"

Today, I too saw a hero. Several years ago my wife was involved in a motor vehicle accident and sustained a closed-head injury. As a result, she lost a significant percentage of her IQ, and her ability to read and do simple math functions. Many people, having suffered such a traumatic loss, would have given up all hope of recovering that which they had before the accident.

Not my wife. She realized that if she wanted to be able to read and do math, she would have to learn how, all over again. Swallowing her pride, she went to the store and purchased several grade-school level workbooks on reading and arithmetic. Even though she has been doing this for some time, today I had the opportunity to watch as she struggled to learn again how to count up money, do simple addition and multiplication problems, and complete exercises to learn the difference between short and long vowels sounds.

I know it was not easy for her. Not just because she is relearning (which is difficult for anyone), but because she knows that as a woman whose children are both married, she is learning at the level of a seven or eight-year-old child. She is a hero, because like the swimmer in the previous story, she realizes that she is not in competition with anyone else. Her triumph comes from just finishing the race; from enduring and pushing through to the end.

More About Choice - And Responsibility

The wonderful thing about choice is that everyone has the ability to choose for themselves. The problem with choice is that everyone has the ability to choose for themselves, and they never seem to choose what I want!

Choice is an awesome power. By choice the Panama Canal came into being. By choice we have electric lights, computers, and all the wonders of technology. All of our modern conveniences (and even the modern inconveniences) came about because some chose to create them.

We all have the power to choose. Where we run into problems is when we try to control the consequence of our choices. Every choice has a consequence. Every intention has an outcome. Every action has a reaction. This is true in all aspects of life - not just Newton's laws of physics.

Imagine if you will a group of teenagers sitting around a campfire. I choose teenagers because I once was one, and I had an experience very close to this example. One teenager turns to the next and says, "I dare you to run through the campfire! If you are fast enough, you won't get burned!" The recipient of the dare now has a choice.

He can choose to accept the dare and run through the campfire or he can choose to ignore the taunt and stay seated. Here is the rub: once the choice is made, the consequences are out of the hands of the one making the choice. If he decides to run through the campfire and it doesn't go as planned, he has no choice about whether or not he gets burned.

If, however, he decides to stay seated, he has no choice as to whether or not his friends make fun of him and call him a coward.

Such is the nature of choice. But what about the choices of others that affect us, for good or ill? Why should we have to deal with the consequences, even though it wasn't our choice? If someone runs through a red light and hits my car in the intersection, I still have to deal with it, even if it wasn't my choice that caused the accident!

In order to understand how to deal with such inevitable events, we have to turn our attention to blame and responsibility. Many people think that these two words mean the same thing - but they do not. In fact, they are, from a certain point of view, exact opposites.

In the movie Dirty Dancing, Baby, the lead character, and her family are spending their summer vacation at a resort that provides activities, entertainment, and more. One of the entertainments is a dance show followed by dance instruction. The two star dancers of the show are Penny and Johnny.

Baby begins to spend time with the dancers and befriends Johnny. One night, when she goes to the cabins where the staff lives (which is off limits) she finds Penny in a dreadful state. Penny has gone to a clandestine abortion clinic and the results have left her in agony.

Baby runs to get the assistance of her father, who is a physician. He, of course, comes to the rescue. He spends considerable time with Penny while Johnny, Baby and others wait nervously outside. When the father comes out of Penny's room he asks who is responsible for Penny. Johnny accepts that responsibility.

The father assumes that Johnny was the father of the baby and forbids his daughter, Baby, to have anything to do with him. Later it is discovered that one of the waiters of the resort, a man whom the father thought was a young man on the path to great success, is the real father.

Here is where everything became confused. The father was looking to blame - he was looking in the past to identify the culprit. Johnny however, was accepting the responsibility for caring for his friend, Penny. He was looking forward to the future and focused on how to fix the problem, not find the culprit for it.

He could have easily said that the waiter was responsible, but he knew the waiter wasn't a responsible person. He didn't take responsibility for the pregnancy in the first place, he certainly wouldn't take responsibility for the cost of the doctor's services!

Responsibility comes from the word response. It is a word of action. When we take responsibility for our lives and the events that arise, we are not necessarily taking blame. We are taking action.

Now, the hope is that whomever is to blame will also take responsibility and fix the problem. But what if they don't? What if there is no one to blame? What then?

Over the last few decades, for some reason, society has avoided taking responsibility for everything around us, from economics to seat belts. And the reason is clear. Too many people are like Baby's father. They confuse responsibility with blame.

We can stand up and take responsibility because we choose to do so. We can respond to those situations in life - those consequences - that are not our fault and find a solution. If we wait for others - those we would blame - to take responsibility, we will wait for a very long time.

When Bad Things Happen

When bad things happen to people, they often ask the question, "Why me?" I., too, have found myself in the situation. September 23, 2009 was a day that changed my life. I was involved in a motor scooter accident that left me hospitalized for 3 1/2 weeks, and then bound to a wheelchair for another two months. I am now just learning to walk again without crutches or cane.

While in the hospital, I had a total of four surgeries; one on my left wrist, and three surgeries on my right leg. I had fractured my left wrist, and shattered the tibial plateau of my right leg. Amazingly, even though my helmet was shattered, I sustained no head or spine injuries.

My most recent surgery was just two weeks ago; I had arthroscopic knee surgery to remove torn cartilage from my right knee. At my postoperative examination, the doctor told me that he had done all he could, and that it was now up to me as to how long and how much use I would get out of my knee before having to undergo a complete knee replacement.

And here's the frustrating thing. There is no one to blame. The cause of the accident was that the rear tire blew out. This is a tire with less than 1200 miles on it with no cracks damage or other reason for blowing out. It would be easy to say "Why me?"

I have never felt such intense pain. It is said that when you reach your pain threshold, either the affected area goes numb, or you pass out. I was blessed with neither of these occurrences, and remained awake and lucid up to the moment they took me into the operating room. I would never, never wish this kind of pain on another living creature. And so now I find my self asking the question, "Why not me?"

Nobody wants bad things to happen to them, and yet it is in the difficult, even life threatening trials that we discover who we really are. We find reservoirs of strength, determination, and hope that we have never tapped into before. My body, and its capacity has been reduced, but my spirit has been enlarged.

I don't know that there is an answer to the question of why bad things happen, but they do. And in this moment we have a choice. We can choose darkness and the abyss, or we can choose to rise above mentally and spiritually. The problem is, no one can make this choice for us; even if we are surrounded by loved ones, we are alone with our own spirits and minds. The choice is ours alone.

It has been said that we live in a world of chaos. But that is not true. There is a cause for every situation, for every event, there is a reason. This is not to say that someone is to blame, because often there is no one to blame. So in asking the question why do bad things happen, we must recognize that they happen for a reason.

I believe that we as human beings have the capacity as individuals, and as an entire species, to overcome and enlarge our souls when faced with tragedy and disaster. We must recognize that suffering is part of the human experience; a very necessary part.

Without suffering, we would never know how strong we really are. Without suffering, we would not have opportunity to grow. When life is easy and there are no challenges before us, we weaken and become less than who we really are.

Nobody wants bad things to happen to them - not even me. But when tragedy strikes, as it inevitably will, choose to be more, choose to rise above - choose greatness. Decide now that no matter what happens in life, you will survive, that you will rise above; that you will not quietly go into the night. Yours is a legacy of human endurance. It is your right, and your liberty to rise above.

You Always Have a Choice

Last Saturday I was witness to a miracle. In June 2008, my son married a beautiful, wonderful young woman. I can freely admit that I would not have chosen her as wife to my son - boy, am I glad that choice was not mine to make! She is perfect for him - and he knew it.

Back to the miracle. She is, after two miscarriages, now in her second trimester with my first grandchild. There is a company that conducts an ultrasound exam which family members are invited to attend. Huddled in a darkened room with the in-laws, my wife and I got to see this new life for the first time.

Now the miracle that I witnessed was not one of modern medicine and ultrasonic imagery. It was one of choice. As many parents (and grandparents) do, they wanted to determine the gender of the baby. However, the baby was very active; moving kicking and tumbling one direction and another, and the technician was struggling to get that revealing pose.

Jokingly, my daughter-in-law said, "It doesn't want you to see!" And that's when I realized the miracle. This child, unborn as it is, was making choices. It can be argued that those choices were reactions to the pressure of the ultrasound device pressed against the womb, but the direction and frequency of movement were not directed by the technician - they were decided by the baby.

All of us, even before we were born, have been given the gift of choice. What a wonderful thing this is. We can choose for ourselves how to think and how to respond. When faced with difficulty and hardship, the one thing that remains is our ability to choose.

I recognize that there are psychological and physiological conditions that warp and distort one's freedom of choice. But even then, it is apparent that these suffering souls still make choices for themselves.

So what does this mean to me? It means that I can, as penned by William Ernest Henley, be the master of my fate; the captain of my soul. I cannot choose everything that happens to me - that would involve taking the ability of choice away from others - which cannot be done. I can always choose, however, how to respond to what happens to me.

I love knowing that I can choose how to respond to life's inevitable tragedies. I did not choose to have an accident on a motor scooter that left me hospitalized for 3 1/2 weeks and bound to a wheelchair for months afterward. I did not choose to have my father die from a brain tumor.

I did not choose my daughter-in-law.

I can, and did choose how to respond to these events, and it is in that moment of choice that I share common ground with the infinite - God, if you will.

Of Eagles and Ducks - I Choose to be an Eagle

This posting is in reference to a well-known analogy given by Dr. Wayne Dyer, wherein he talks about the differences between eagles and ducks - not the birds, but the people.

There are those around us who simply soar - like eagles. In everything they do, they rise above. They meet every challenge - sometimes with great difficulty and heartache, they overcome every obstacle and they see broadened horizons. These are the eagles.

Then, of course there is the majority - the ducks. Quack, quack, quack. (To be said with a nasal sound as irritatingly as possible). These are they who go through the motions but never put in the emotion. They do all that is required, but not all that they could. They turn away from difficulty and quack their reasons for not being able to do more. They live in the world of "Can't Be Done" and do not raise their eyes to broader horizons, but are satisfied with the pond in which they live.

We all encounter ducks and eagles in every walk of life. Today, I met an eagle - at Denny's.

Many people think that eagles are CEO's, affluent and powerful individuals in the world. And while people of this caliber may very well be eagles, not all eagles are so prominent.

The eagle I met today is the manager at a Denny's Diner. When we walked in, everyone was busy taking care of the patrons seated in the dining area. He came from the kitchen area to the front and greeted us enthusiastically and seated us promptly.

During our stay he came over 4 different times to see that all was taken care of. And he did this for every patron. One patron who was short on time asked when his waitress would be taking his order, and he didn't go find the waitress - he just took the man's order, placed it with the kitchen and continued making his rounds.

And here is the most exciting thing of all - every single person that waited on us and the rest of the patrons had the same attitude and work ethic. Eagles attract other eagles and inspire the ducks to raise their heads and become eagles.

I said to my wife that I wished we could look ahead twenty years into the future to see where this 20-something year-old manager would be. Because I know this: even if his occupation is a janitor, he will still be an eagle - out-performing and lifting all the other janitors around him. But I believe that he will be well on his way to great success - success that he defines and strives for.

I want to be an eagle. I'm tired of being a duck. All my life there has been that secret something inside that has whispered to me that I have within me the ability to soar - to be an eagle. I talk to hundreds of people every year and have talked to thousands over the past decade, and I realize that I am not alone.

So this is a call to all those who wish to soar, who wish to rise above the mundane and become more! Shed your duck feathers and see yourself as an eagle. This young man confirmed for me something that I really have known all along - everyone in life can be an eagle. Everyone.


How does one do this? The first step is to realize that you are an eagle who has been told by circumstance, society and, unfortunately, even those who love you, that you are a duck. Ducks stay on the ground and are not prone to fall. Eagles can fall, and that is why they want you to be a duck. 


But the thing about eagles is that when they fall, they shake off the dust, spread their wings and take flight again, never looking back on their fall as an indication that they have suddenly become a duck. They know that they are eagles, and you can too.

Why This? Why Now?

Explaining why I am writing this blog may be a bit of a challenge because, as is often the case, feelings are difficult to put into words. Nevertheless, it is the medium of communication that is a transcendent quality of humans. All forms of life communicate - we do it with words.

So here goes. All of us, at some point in life, must answer the question, "Why am I here?" I don't mean this from a religious perspective of what we do with our mortal probation to prepare for the eternities. I mean from a contributory perspective.

Perhaps a better way to word the question would be, "What do I have to offer that is uniquely mine and can do the most good?" For Thomas Edison, it was the electric light bulb, and he was so determined to make it a reality that he failed 10,000 times in order to succeed.

So, why this? Because it is what I am uniquely suited to do. I don't mean this as a point of bragging - I see it as an obligation. I am not a gifted scientist - as my college algebra instructors can testify. I am not an award-winning entrepreneur - as my failed business attempts can illustrate.

I do, however, possess a gift. It has taken 46 years of pain, frustration and confusion to identify this gift, although it was there from the very beginning. I just thought it was how everybody functioned.

I will try to put this gift into words, and if I fail, it is not the fault of the determination and passion that drives me, but the fault of being me. I help. I counsel. I see the miraculous in so many things that seem ordinary to others. And so many of these others - perhaps you, dear reader - are suffering from tragedy, pain, loneliness, grief and a hundred other negative things that seem to drag you down into a pit of woe.

I don't know why, although I too, have had my share of difficulties (more on that later),  but I have remained optimistic, hopeful and eager for the future. And I have a way of helping others find that within themselves. I hope that I can do the same for you.