Still a Step Ahead of Molokai

Many are familiar with the story of Father Damien - a Catholic priest who went to serve what was then called a leper colony (for victims of Hansen's Disease) where patients were segregated on a remote point of Hawaii. [Note: any who are not familiar with Father Damien's story will find greater inspiration in looking up his story now than in what follows below - you can always come back here later - it's not crowded].

A famous scene in his biography depicts the moment when Father Damien, who has contracted the disease himself (after disobeying his orders not to touch or share meals with the patients), begins his sermon one day with the ringing words, "My fellow lepers".

My life has not paralled Damien's in any way - not in drama, or sacrifice - and yet I have recently (for wholly different reasons) felt a kinship with that one moment, when anyone can say to what has been an 'other' group: "My fellow __________."

After reading about Ohio's unemployment woes for years, I find that, in one SMALL way, I will be able to join the ranks of those affected by job insecurities in the months ahead. I hope that I have not been without empathy or sympathy before now, but since I now know that 1/2 of my employment (the payment part, anyway) will disappear after October, I feel a stronger connection to the rest of the folks in Ohio (some of them my dearest friends) who have found themselves unemployed, or - to use the vernacular - underemployed.

While supposedly immune to much of this (due to pledging myself to a system which "guaranteed" full employment opportunities to Full Members such as myself), it turns out that one reason these are called "tough economic times" are because sometimes, when reminded of such promises, the powers that be say, "Tough."

Still, I'm several steps ahead of Father Damien - he had died by the age of 49, in virtual exile from the life he had known. [Seriously, if you haven't looked up his story yet, go do so now - it will do you good - you can at least get started at Wikipedia - Search for "Father Damien"].

Stay tuned for the next step for my small part of the journey that is employment in Ohio in 2010. I may have to read (& take seriously) the blogs that have come before on this site. Who says God doesn't have a sense of humor?

Alternate Exit

I loved fire drills when I was a schoolboy. One minute you were stuck at a desk, and the next moment you were allowed - even required! - to go outside. I always wished we would have a fire drill every week (you can tell I don't remember too many rainy or cold fire drills, BTW).

In 1965 one of our fire drills was different.

It wasn't because there was a real fire - that would have been less weird.

When we (Mrs. Morrison's 5th graders) got to our exit door, there stood our Principal - Mr. Hackler. He was wearing a red beanie and yellow work gloves and holding a red flag in each hand. Around his neck hung a sign that simply said, "FIRE".

I like to think that if it had been a real fire blocking our exit we would have done a better job of reacting (by, say, proceeding directly to our alternate exit). Instead we more or less held an impromptu meeting. Some kids asked Mr. Hackler what we were supposed to do - but he was busy being the Fire, and he wasn't any help. I'm pretty sure that our teachers had been instructed not to talk, as well.

Some kids pointed out that it was still possible to get around Mr. Hackler, but by then we had pretty much figured out that this was a test of some sort. That's when we more or less 'voted' to head for the alternate door - which was further away & IN THE WRONG DIRECTION for us to go for a fire drill.

I point out that it was IN THE WRONG DIRECTION so that I can be a little more forgiving of our 5th-Grade selves. It is a fearsome thing (or at least it was in 1965) to go in ANY direction except the normal one. Remember that this is around the era immortalized in "A Christmas Story" (aka - The BB-Gun Movie - the one with Ralphie). There is that great moment when the recess bell rings and they all desert their friend who has just become frozen to the flagpole by accepting a dare to lick it. Why do they leave him there? As Ralphie 'explains' - "I don't know. The BELL rang!"

We didn't easily decide to go in aberrant directions - but sometimes the Fire is real.

Sometimes there really is a brick wall in our way. Sometimes we figure out that continuing on in the way we expect to go will not only be impossible - it may hurt us to try to hang on to Plan A.

Thank God for Plan B (& C, D, E, etc.) - even though it's almost always painful to turn away from Plan A. There just may be life outside that alternate exit.

Flickering Lights

If you're like me, you wonder sometimes about caveman teenagers.

(What? I can't be the only one ... ?)

Anyway, sometimes when I find myself sitting in front of a television, I remember all of the childhood warnings about how it would ruin my life:

• It will ruin your eyes
• It will rot your brain
• If you sit too far away you will get headaches from squinting
• If you sit too close you will get radiation - and die.

Wow - why did we ever keep sitting in front of something that dangerous? OK, sometimes it's because there is something great on it - think Masterpiece Theater, or the first season of Cheers. Much more often, though, there is nothing great, nothing that absolutely compels us to watch - and still, we are often found in front of the 'idiot box' - and it's at times like that that I start thinking about the caveman teenagers.

I suspect that soon after cavepersons discovered fire the cave parents got annoyed by the endless hours that cave teens would sit staring at it. Why? Because we like watching things flicker - they get our attention. It's not accidental that police cars & fire trucks have lights that flash - it makes us look. So I picture the cave teens being huge fans of this new innovation (they are always the first to know that the next awesome thing is, indeed, awesome).

• You'll go blind if you stare at that fire all night
• Your brain will rot if you don't go to bed so you can be up early for some hunting and gathering
• You'll fall asleep and fall into that thing - and DIE!

For my generation, it was TV - currently it is a variety of screens - computers - DVD players IN CARS (!-my generation could only dream of some future time when such a wonder would be possible) - or 'phones' (a terribly inadequate word for what cell phone/home theaters have become). Sometimes we're staring at these things because they have great information or vital information - but often, I suspect, the hours disappear while we're basically watching the lights flicker.

Just something to think about the next time you find yourself still in front of the television after the good show ends - or when you're checking one more page on Facebook as rigor mortis sets in by way of your carpal tunnel. If you're just watching the flickering lights, give your eyes a rest, and switch your brain back on, and go take a walk.

[BTW - thanks for watching these particular lights flicker for a while].

Life Lessons from my Illustrious Running Career

OK - maybe the career wasn't all that illustrious, but the life-lessons are legit - and one of the earliest directions from my track 'career' was this:

Run through the tape.

Now, just because it has been important advice doesn't keep it from being outrageously funny for a variety of reasons - among them:

• At no point was I ever part of a race that actually HAD a tape held across the finish line, and
• If there ever had been a tape marking the finish line, it would have been long gone by the time I got there, because the winner would have broken it already [see note above re the lack of illustriousness of my running career].

So why did it seem like good advice? Because the REAL message there was to keep running until you passed the finish line. Even if you weren't the first runner across the finish line, someone was keeping your time - and one of the brilliant things about being involved in running is that even if you are not a premier runner, there are still many ways to succeed - including:

• improving your personal best, and (NOT to be underestimated when it comes to personal victories),
• FINISHING.

If you have watched any number of track meets, races, marathons, mini-marathons, 5-Ks - you know that not everyone finishes. Occasionally that will be due to injury, but far more often it is a matter of heart. That's why the people who are watching cheer (and mean it) for those final runners who keep running until they cross the line. (If you have never been present to observe a track meet, I recommend finding a way to attend one - it will do your heart good).

When you are not going to win - or even contend for a top spot - it's tough to keep running.

"Run through the tape" is, in part, advice that can insure that you get your best time - and because I believe in that I have been enormously frustrated over the years by watching world-class runners ease off a few yards before the finish - often missing a world record time by a couple hundredths of a second. My frustration is that of the 'also ran' who would have sacrificed a variety of body parts to have ever held, however briefly, a record of ANY kind (but I realize that these guys & gals have a pocketful of such records, and will probably set more any day).

Most races, though, are not filled with world-class runners - just with folks who realize that there is a choice about running all the way to the finish - OR NOT.

THERE ARE A THOUSAND REASONS TO STOP - and believe me, I know - I rehearse most of them daily. In the end, though, it's still good advice - Run through the tape -

• Even though others (often MANY others) will finish ahead of you -
• Even though it may seem embarassing to still be trying -
• Even though it may not be a day for a 'personal best' -
• Even though any 'victory' accomplished by finishing (be it a race, a workout, a job, a relationship, a project) may ONLY be apparent to you -

Run through the tape - but I've got to go for now - I'm in the middle of several projects, none of which are of earth-shaking importance and many of which seem a little ridiculous, but which are part of today's race - so I've got to go put one foot in front of the other - & then repeat.

No Worse than Ugly Betty

Just a quick blog-related note (especially for the folks checking in here regularly) to say that I was relieved to find out that I was no worse at blogging than Ugly Betty.

If you're not a fan of the (recently deceased) show "Ugly Betty" - it was a great story of a person who was somewhere between 'normal' & eccentric who ended up working in the Fashion industry. Although Betty was designed (no pun intended) NOT to fit into that world, her intelligence, optimism, and willingness to learn and change (without ditching her standards) overcame her co-workers' initial reluctance to embrace her.

Near the end of the show's run, a part of the story was that Betty began a Blog, where she was able to write about the things that mattered to her (while she made her living writing about Fashion). In the last episode it was revealed that, while overwhelmed with work, she had failed to post ANYTHING on her Blog for OVER A MONTH.

I'm still not up to [any useful] speed, but I'm a few days better than Betty.

Maybe being marginally better than a fictional TV character is not setting the bar really high, but I'll take my 'victories' where I can get them. Stay tuned.

Life Lessons

I'm noticing that many of the things that end up helping me get through a day come from surprising sources. Moments from my distant past that seem like they should only be a part of the past end up surfacing day by day.

Example: Cross Country - My Cross Country "career" consisted of 2 seasons as an Ohio Northern University Polar Bear. I went out for the team for a variety of reasons -

• It was my first Fall in a new school and I didn't know anybody.
• Although we didn't have XC (that's how the insiders talk) at McComb High School, I had eventually become a 2-Miler in Track (after discovering that I was not built for speed, but I did have some slight talent for endurance).
• It was an open invitation - anyone could walk on.
• I was bored.
• I didn't know (fortunately) that the Races were 5 miles long.

There was not a lot of intensive coaching involved for XC, at least 'back in the day' - we mostly ran long distances, tried to take care of our feet, and took fistfuls of the salt tablets that used to sit around in locker rooms.

One piece of advice, though, comes back to me almost every day:

Even if you have to slow to a walk,

DON'T STOP.

Maybe it comes back because of the number of days when I am slowed to a walk - or a crawl - and the temptation to just pack it in is VERY great. Although my XC career was brief, it's impact shows up on days like today, when I'm hauling around the equivalent (in weight) of 2 of the 'me' I was when I was running, but I still finished the first non-interrupted week of my Walking for Your Life program (which is what it seems like - a walking program aimed at putting off being dead for as long as possible).

What I'm doing shouldn't seem hard - but if you can imagine walking for 1/2-hour twice a day with a beach ball made out of lead tied around your waist, you can get some idea of the difference between me now & me as a Polar Bear - so sometimes hearing the advice above is what makes it possible to take one more step - & to edge closer to life than death. I recommend it.

Funeral for a Friend

I took part in a funeral for a friend this week - It was the person who was my first connection to the Internet, so it seems appropriate to spend a moment to memorialize her in this online forum.

S. was something of a Contemplative or Mystic - a cousin to some of the hermits and/or monks sometimes referred to as the Desert Fathers - although she would have laughed at the name. I think of her this way because of the reading that she did, and shared with me. When she would print out a quote from, say, Simone Weil [a French woman, born to an agnostic Jewish family, who followed her sympathies towards early-20th century workers to the point of declaring herself a Bolshevik by age 10, and who later came to be known as a Christian mystic - a fairly interesting path lived out in a 34-year life], I used to think, "Who READS these people?" - but then I realized, S. did - and she was able to mine these eclectic sources deeply.

S. herself came from rural northern Indiana - a true daughter of the great American Midwest (evidenced in part by her support for the Cubs ... of course). You never know where you will find the next Contemplative. I use the term to refer to someone who pays attention as they go through life, and who consequently finds wonder and amazement in some pretty ordinary-looking places. She made me think of the familiar lines from Elizabeth Barrett Browning:

"Earth's crammed with Heaven,

And every common bush afire with God -

But only he who sees takes off his shoes -

The rest sit round it and pick blackberries."

Unlike many mystics, though, she did not accomplish her contemplation by removing herself to the Desert. Along with her husband she raised a family and worked in very concrete ways to improve Sunday Schools and other ministries in the Churches which were part of their lives. Together, also, they fought a heroic battle with a still-mysterious brain disorder in the final years of her life. You never know where you will find the next Contemplative - or the next heroes.

She chose the lines below to be shared at her funeral. They are by G.A. Studdert-Kennedy, from "The Kiss of God" - With the regret that comes from knowing that I have lost the source of some surprising and insightful glimpses into the wonders of God in the everyday world, I share them here:

So, I looked up to God

And while I held my breath

I saw Him slowly nod,

And knew ... As I had never known aught else,

With certainty sublime and passionate,

Shot through and through

With sheer unutterable bliss,

I knew,

There was no death, but this,

God's kiss,

And then the waking to an everlasting love.

Do you ever get it worng?

This post is only for folks who have, in the past, made mistakes - or for those who have failed miserably - or those who are currently in the midst of making a royal mess of things (the rest of you undoubtably have better things to do than read this blog - now would be a good time to go do some of them).

The title of this post is, of course, an homage to the tremendous tag-line from the 1973 movie Westworld, about a futuristic amusement park where human-like androids enabled rich guests to safely engage in all kinds of fantasies - including winning Old West gunfights (against Yul Brynner as a very cool robot Gunfighter). Advanced computer technology was in place to ensure the safety of the guests, but just in case you had any doubts about the likely failure of the "fail-safe" measures, the posters for the movie contained one of the great lines of all time:

"Where nothing can possibly go worng."

And of course things did go worng - er, wrong - VERY wrong.

This is not a post about the hubris of those who trust in technology, though - this is about when things go very wrong - and when it's our fault - and about the temptation we have at such moments to just throw in the towel and give up and decide that we are, really & truly, failures.

While I have never been any good at keeping up with Christian recording artists, many years ago I came across the artist Don Francisco. At that time, at least, he was most known for recreating Bible stories in dramatic songs - (he's the guy behind "He's Alive" - heard in many Easter celebrations - you can find a way to connect with his music below).

He has a song called "There is No Condemnation" which speaks to the days when I'm so busy kicking myself that the rest of the world would have to wait a turn. Perhaps you are familiar with the feeling. This is not about times when someone incorrectly assumes that I have messed up, or when I'm unjustly accused of failure - this is about when I have, for sure and for real, made a mess of something (hey, it happens). In the midst of a song about the morning after a personal failure ("...when I was so far down that even up looked wrong") - he uses a beautiful phrase :

"It doesn't matter what you've done,

it matters what you'll be."

Wow - what a thought - particularly for folks who profess to believe that we are creatures of Eternity. In the song Francisco has Jesus telling the songwriter, "Satan, the accuser has been whispering in your ear - you just tell him you're forgiven - he has no business here." It matters what you'll be. What a doorway out of self-pity, & self-punishment, & self-hatred - and all the things that make us want to take ourselves out of the running and stop trying.

There are times when I even actually remember it.

++++++++++++

[As always, if this is your first visit to Leaving Nadderby, I urge you to click on "Looking Back" for an introduction (& an explanation of the name). Under the BLOG ARCHIVE, click on 2008, then on February 2008, & then on the title: "Looking Back" (or browse through several if you are so inclined). Don Francisco can be found online at: http://www.rockymountainministries.org/index.html - there's even an online radio station there featuring his music and that of some of his associates.]

Rocky II

No - not the sequel to "Rocky" - where the rematch with Apollo Creed does take place - although that movie has it's share of inspiration, too.

This "Rocky II" refers to another moment of greatness for Rocky Balboa - one that doesn't show up on screen. It was when he gets out of bed at 4:00 a.m. the second morning.

It was a great thing for a bleary-eyed pug to roll out of bed and start to train the day after he was named to fight the Champion, but he would have never made it to a point where he could "go the distance" if he had not gotten up the next day, too - another day when no one was there to cheer (or even to notice) - another day when he was still basically, as fighters go, a bum (one day of training doesn't make you strong, it just makes you hurt).

The day that I wrote the last blog was one of the first times in months that I was able to undertake my modest physical regimen. Health - the Ohio Winter of '10 - spirit struggles - take your pick from the menu of brick walls that had stood in the way. That day I was able to resume my 'cellphone plan for cardio' (set a timer on the phone for 15 minutes - walk away from home until the timer rings - turn & return home, and 'voila' - 30 minutes of cardio).

It turns out that the difficult thing in reality was to go back out & do the afternoon portion, and to go out the next day - that's when I thought of Rocky.

I thought about the moment, unrecorded in the movie, when he got up again at 4:00, & chugged another 5 eggs (still not recommending that, BTW), and went out and jogged one step closer to the prize.

Here's to everyone who is gets up and goes today without cheers, without visible results, sometimes even without any encouragement, and takes the step. Good work.
+++++++
[As always, if this is your first visit to Leaving Nadderby, I invite you to click on the Archives for 2008, then click on February & go to "Looking Back" for an introduction to the site (& an explanation of the name)].

Rocky - Our Lenten Guide

Picture Rocky Balboa running up the 72 steps of the Philadelphia Museum of Art to the music of "Gonna Fly Now" - at the top of the steps he throws his hands in the air in celebration as he looks out over a scenic view of Philly.

It's a great scene - & it has inspired countless folks to re-live the moment and run up the stairs when they are there. One of the best videos of this is at http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hMm99pHMR5Y - give it a look (it will do you good) - then come back for the REAL inspirational moment of "Rocky".

BACK? Good. As great a moment as that is, there is an earlier, truly inspirational moment in the movie. It's the moment that made we want to use Rocky Balboa as my guide for Lent this year.

It's the scene when Rocky's alarm clock goes off at 4:00 a.m., and he stumbles out of bed & cracks several eggs into a glass & chugs them (that's not the inspirational moment - wait for it). Then he walks out into a dark street, with no crowd, with no energy, in maybe the sorriest-looking sweatsuit in cinema history, and begins to jog down the street.

That's the moment.

When he's not being cheered - when he's not in shape - when he's still basically a bum - and he still takes off & begins to train. It's not pretty. When he first tries the run up the steps at the Museum, he is not triumphant. He's out of breath - gasping - bent over - beat, as he slowly makes his way back down the steps. Did you miss the inspirational part? It was when he began to run down the street - when he said "yes" to training for this impossible fight. That's when I knew that he would be a good guide for Lent (or for any other day of a lifetime).

Christians need to learn to pray. As a group we're not very good at it. We confuse prayer with sitting on Santa's lap in December, with our list of wishes. We forget that prayer is about moving ourselves closer to God's will and not about moving God closer to our shopping list of desires.

There is a way to learn - IF we are willing to try when we're not yet very good at it - IF we are humble enough to take some 4:00 a.m.-type steps of our own - if we're willing to return to the first days of our 'training' in prayer.

Pray the Lord's Prayer. Pray it when it's not inspirational. Pray it when it doesn't even seem real because you've heard it so many times. Pray it until it becomes a prayer again. Someday it may be possible to move on to the prayers that ascend to the mountaintop - but that day won't be today - and it won't be tomorrow - but those days of obedience to the idea of prayer need to happen if we are ever to reach the heights of what prayer can do.

The world needs what the Church can become - and we have settled for far too little. It's fun to run up the steps and dance around. The hard work is when it's dark and we're alone and even feel a little foolish for trying - but if believers take those first steps of obedience, we're gonna fly now.

+++[As always, if this is your first stop at "Leaving Nadderby", I suggest that you click on the "Looking Back" blog (from February 2008 in the archives) by way of introduction to what the Blog is about.]

Charles Emerson Winchester was right!

If you watched "M*A*S*H" (the great TV show, not the movie), you will recognize Charles Emerson Winchester as the somewhat effete, self-assured surgeon who came into the mix later in the show. While Hawkeye was, early on, constantly in the business of trying to introduce Winchester to "meatball surgery" - do it fast, do enough to keep the soldiers alive, & start working on someone else - Winchester (in the early days) kept repeating his mantra:

• I do one thing,


• I do it very well,


• Then I move on.

Hawkeye, of course, was the hero of the show, reflecting the reality that a Mobile Army Surgical Hospital needed to engage in triage and speedy, imperfect surgery to keep the greatest number of wounded soldiers alive.

Since most of us are NOT frontline medics, nurses, or surgeons, though - maybe we ought to pay some attention to Winchester.

This thought comes after watching a PBS show about multi-tasking. Several college students were shown in classes texting, emailing, even Twittering for all I know, & complaining that their profs just didn't understand that they were completely capable of handling all this while still receiving & understanding a lecture. (If you are waiting for the part where the old fogey delights in being proved right - here it comes).

As folks in some of the same schools featured in the show begin to do research, it turns out that, to be blunt, it's a load of ... well, something unpleasant. It turns out that the brain is wired in such a way that, technically, it does ONE thing at a time. Since it can SWITCH with great speed, it is possible to have a lot of irons in the fire at one time (picture a young mom with a toddler, a vacuum cleaner, the FedEx guy at the front door, & a draft of a doctoral thesis on her computer screen). The trick is that ALL of those tasks are addressed by a rapid switching between tasks which causes all of them to suffer in terms of performance. In other words, we ALL:

• Do one thing,
• Do it well (if we're concentrating) or poorly,
• Then move on.

Some have described our current lives as being 'a mile wide, and an inch deep'*. Please understand, I love my texting, my email, my Google, and they will will only get my computer away from me when they pry it from my cold, dead fingers. Still, I think that we need the deeper places & experiences in life - and the world needs what we discover when we turn these phenomenal brains to moving deeper.

If Winchester is not enough of a guide for life, consider that among those Christ called 'blessed' in Matthew 5 were the "pure in heart". This is a call for FOCUS in life, not just for some fastidious avoidance of 'bad things'. It means concentrating - with our minds and therefore with our lives - on something worthy of that attention.

This doesn't mean that we never "play" again - sometimes I want to find out great things online, and sometimes I'm basically watching the lights flicker in a new way [see future post on "Flickering Lights"] - we have to breathe in AND breathe out. This is just a call, a plea, to pay attention - remember what Thoreau said about the 'unexamined life' (& if you don't recognize that - it's GOOGLE time!).


*My first Blog FOOTNOTE: The quote originally came from an old Westerner who, upon dealing with the Powder River for the first time, declared it to be 'a mile wide, an inch deep, too thick to drink, and too thin to plow' - wow, that makes me want to visit (I think I'll head over to Google Earth).