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.