Another Stranger I'll Never Know

Her head turned and she gazed over her shoulder, across the red silk of her blouse, rippled by the tilt of her head, the pivot of her neck. Her jade eyes, clear and moist, seemed to find mine and I felt a stirring of hope, a long absent curiosity. I wondered about speaking to her, just a word to break the translucent expectations that divided us, that had always divided us and made us strangers. My mind raced to summon the right words. My legs flexed to stand, to walk.

She turned, her hair sliding back into place along her back, bouncing, as if swaying to the final measure of some distant rhythm, and she was gone – again.

The Greatest of Miracles

Much can be said for miracles. Read for a moment or two on blog topics like wholeness, cancer, poverty or economic struggle and you are sure to run across a ‘miracle story’ or two. Cancers are healed, injuries vanish, accidents are avoided, and consequences evaporate like a morning fog. We find ourselves in awe, even disbelief – amazed.

While all of these events are certainly worth noting and even celebrating, on occasion (like right now) I am reminded of what seems to me to be the greatest miracle of all. This is not a miracle of healing, financial success, physical triumph or an underdog victory. I would describe the greatest of miracles this way: that a person whose very soul is broken, twisted, ill worn and misshapen can - from the very core of their being, change and become someone of loving and graceful spirit.

Or, said another way – that God can transform a human heart.

It is a miracle I depend on, every day.

Listening for the Voice of God

After attending a faculty concert at the University Of North Carolina School Of The Arts in honor of Mozart’s birthday (great music), my wife and I decided to rent and re-watch “Amadeus.”

The movie is a master piece and tells the story of Mozart’s musical genius through the eyes of the aged, embittered Salieri, a court composer and contemporary of Mozart. What struck me profoundly was Sallieri’s struggle – he speaks of holding within himself the appreciation of and desire to create, divine music and yet, he must live with the reality of his inability to do so.

I believe many of us struggle with similar tensions, unrealized passions. I believe we often find ourselves frustrated by the limitations of our craft to contain something larger than us. Yet, I also believe that it is this desire to manifest something greater than ourselves that can make us truly a vessel of Divine love and empowerment. It is a reoccurring theme and one perhaps worth acknowledging…

Cup of Coffee and Quality Conversation

Yesterday I had a visit with a good friend of 5 years now. We met innocently enough at a local coffee house (Café Roche) and talked over hot coffee and warm pastries.

We spent about 2 hours together and I left with a bitter –sweet awareness.

The Sweet – We listened and talked to each other. We asked questions to better understand perspectives. We recalled life experiences and things we had read or seen to add depth and breadth to the conversation. We wondered together. We laughed, debated and shared silence together. I left feeling grateful for the time and stimulated in my thinking and creative passion.

The Bitter - I don’t have good, quality conversations of substance nearly often enough. I know I am busy at work and at home. I know the trend is for 140 character interactions, online chatting, blogging/commenting and trite verbal exchanges (and I’m very good at those – I’m just saying), but I wonder if there isn’t more to it.

Have we somehow developed into a culture where conversation has been replaced with brief proclamations and affirmations? Has the art of informed group inquiry (was there ever such an art) become too complicated, too time consuming? I think one of the reasons that I love sharing coffee with others – just about anyone – is that it slows things down and creates a moment for conversation. It is hard to be in a hurry when you are holding and trying to drink very HOT liquids!

My life needs more time for coffee and conversation, more space for debating, wondering with others. What about you? Care to join me for a cup of Joe?

Not a Relief for Haiti Post

I am touched by the tragedy in Haiti and the outpouring of support to those affected. I must, however, take this moment and stand on a soap-box cause of my own.

The current death toll is reported at over 200,000 with 1.5 million rendered homeless. This is a tragic event, similar to the tsunami of 2004. I have and will continue to offer my financial contributions and prayers. I hope you will do the same.

My soap box is that in the United States alone, there are over 180,000 deaths annually due to alcohol and other drugs (not including drug and alcohol related traffic deaths). The estimate cost to Americans each year for illicit drug use and related crime is around $65 billion.[1] There is numbness to this astounding reality. We don’t hear pleas from the White House to text for support, or celebrities and emergency response groups banding together to raise awareness and funds. What is more, how quickly would we respond if the technology and expertise to prevent the earthquake in Haiti had been available? Yet, much is known – both medically and socially - about the causes and treatment for addiction and those affected by it.

So, my pitch is that we must find a way of raising our awareness and response to a killer that surpasses the tragedy in Haiti every single year in the USA. At this point I would recommend a charity, program or group for you to donate to or support, but other than local programs – I’ just not aware of one good source to fund or support. So, search your local charities and give of your money and your time.

-Steps off soap box-

We now return to our regularly scheduled blogging…

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[1] http://www.ncjrs.gov/ondcppubs/publications/policy/ndcs00/chap2_10.html

You Change Your Attitude Now

“The greatest discovery of any generation is that a human being can alter his life by altering his attitude.” –Williams James

I spent 8 years in higher education, 15 years beyond that as a pastor for a mainline denomination, and studied human psychology, pastor counseling and theology. It took a man with no more than a high school education and a background in construction to teach me something real about people, about me.

I was having a bad day and it wasn’t even 10:00 am. I’d had an argument with my wife. My children were not behaving the way I wanted them to, and my work schedule for the day was so packed that I knew I wouldn’t be able to get all of it done. My brain hurt, my back hurt and I pretty much hated everything and everybody at that moment.

My boss at the time took note of my very bad attitude and asked me to come into his office. I did. He listened to my story and then paused before saying, “You have two choices this morning. You can stay pissed and have a sorry day, or you can do something about your attitude.” He reached in the desk drawer and handed me a card* that resembled one of those “do not disturb” door hangers. On the front and back were a series of saying, positive affirmations. He told me to take it and if I wanted to change my attitude to read the sayings out loud on the way to my first appointment for that day. My attitude wasn’t very receptive. I thought of all the psychological cliques that I knew. I thought about how what I was going through was much bigger than a few clever and witty sayings. I thought of a hundred reasons why his suggestion was, at best, inadequate. I didn’t challenge him. I took the card and headed for the truck. As I walked out of his office he said one more thing, “I bet you’re too chicken to try it.”

I smiled and for some reason warmed up to the idea of proving him wrong. On the way to my first appointment, I read them out loud:

“I will win. Why? I’ll tell you why – because I have faith courage and enthusiasm.”

“Today I will meet the right people in the right place at the right time for the betterment of all.”

“I see opportunity in every challenge.”

“When I fail, I only look at what I did right.”

“I’ll never take advice from someone more messed up than I am.”

The readings continued, and so did the change in my attitude. There is great power in the words we speak to ourselves, and by the time I was done – I did feel better and begin to think on the things I could do to be effective and successful that day. I had once of the most productive days ever. I have never forgotten that lesson.

*The card is produced by Tom Hopkins International and can be found here: Shower Card

Just Regular Please

No thank you. I do not want it super sized, mega-made, biggied or mutated. I just want this day regular, normal, simple, as it arrived…

I have had enough of different, trying, intense, involved, complicated, volatile and demanding for the time being.

I'll take a normal day. Thank you.

Too Sensual for Public Listening Music

I was minding my own business, driving with business colleague to lunch when my iPod shuffled right up to a song that made me very uncomfortable. I may be alone on this one, but there are some songs that are so sensual that I’m uncomfortable hearing them in social settings. Two of them on my list of “too sensual for public listening” are:

Paula Cole – “Feeling Love”

Christina Aguilera - “Nasty Boy”

So, when driving to Steak Street with a female colleague, it is best not to hear Christina Aguilera singing, “Give me a little taste of that sugar below your waist.” Trust me.

What about you? Is there a song that makes you blush if playing in public?

Opus 72

Do you know the number one song from 1972? I do, and I’ll never forget it.

It was New Year’s Eve 1972 and I was listening to a radio program, Opus 72, the top 100 hundred songs of the year counted down. I was home alone. I know, it sounds pitiful, but I was happy – I was 14 and home for the holidays from living away at Military School. We lived in a new home on the water in Murrells Inlet, SC and I was enjoying the time alone with my run of the house. I had set up my stepfather’s reel-to-reel tape recorder to record hours of the countdown.

As the hours ran on, I enjoyed song after song, many of which I was hearing for the first time (living in a Military School where the current events were not so assessable had its draw backs). Time rolled on and one by one the songs played. Then the number one song was announced, at midnight – Roberta Flack’s version of “The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face.” I had never heard the song before and was overwhelmed by the romance and beauty of it. There, alone on New Year’s Eve, I felt a real message of love and dedication between two people. That song touched a real longing and desire within me and at 14 I knew I wanted to love like that.

I was such a sappy romantic.

First Time Ever I Saw Your Face

The first time ever I saw your face
I thought the sun rose in your eyes
And the moon and stars were the gifts you gave
To the dark and the empty skies, my love,
To the dark and the empty skies.

The first time ever I kissed your mouth
And felt your heart beat close to mine
Like the trembling heart of a captive bird
That was there at my command, my love
That was there at my command.

And the first time ever I lay with you
I felt your heart so close to mine
And I knew our joy would fill the earth
And last till the end of time my love
It would last till the end of time my love

The first time ever I saw your face, your face,
your face, your face ...

"My God" and 1975

Time at home has allowed me to dig out some old CDs and take a musical ride through time. With the holiday season and all of the festivities associated with it all but over, we have cleared away the torn wrapping paper, empty boxes and some of the Christmas decorations. Today I’ve managed a few minutes to simply sit in the living room and listen to music. I would normally listen to satellite radio or an iTunes play list, but today I’ve dusted off some of the CDs stacked about the room and found an array of music that I haven’t heard for some time. Right now, it’s Jethro Tull’s “Aqualung.”

With this music comes a specific memory. This album takes me back to 1975, Myrtle Beach, SC where I grew up. I remember one very specific day in May, an afternoon after my birthday but before the summer break in between my junior and senior year of high school. I was still driving the hand-me-down family car, a 1966 Chevrolet Bellaire, and at that particular moment was cruising north on Highway 17 between Murrells Inlet and Myrtle Beach headed into town to join friends for pizza and some night time fun. The car stereo was blasting, powered by an 8-Track tape player as I listened for the first time to “My God.” What I remember today, is somehow in that drive I felt very free, and I knew that even though I didn’t fully understand what Tull was saying – I knew two things: There was more about God to learn than my parents had taught me and I liked this crazy, in-your-face, music.

I still know those two things.

"My God"

People -- what have you done --

locked Him in His golden cage.

Made Him bend to your religion --
Him resurrected from the grave.
He is the god of nothing --
if that's all that you can see.
You are the god of everything --
He's inside you and me.
So lean upon Him gently
and don't call on Him to save you
from your social graces
and the sins you used to waive.
The bloody Church of England --
in chains of history --
requests your earthly presence at
the vicarage for tea.
And the graven image you-know-who --
with His plastic crucifix --
he's got him fixed --
confuses me as to who and where and why --
as to how he gets his kicks.
Confessing to the endless sin --
the endless whining sounds.
You'll be praying till next Thursday to
all the gods that you can count.