When embraced and appreciated fully we will experience the internal and eternal presence of authentic joy.
Trains Pull Out Of The Station
Editor’s note: This was Bob Jones’ final entry before his death on July 14, 2020. It offers one final lesson from a man who always approached life with hope and a sense of adventure for the road ahead.
A train pulling out of the station reminds me of aging.
It feels like lots of things remind me of aging nowadays (and doesn't take a pandemic announcing the fragility of my generation to stir up those emotions). Finding oneself locked in a 70 year old body should be reminder enough.
Physical activities which used to be easily performed and taken for granted become challenging. Mental acuity slowly dulls. Though these changes are not welcomed with open arms, there is a quality that presents itself which can be embraced. Growing old is not valued in our culture.
As we reach our golden years, we are offered products to keep us looking young, extend our vitality and sharpening our memory. We have a fear and dread of becoming our grandparents.
Good Lord, could it be that this body in the mirror is mine?
Will we try to hide our eyes from aging as if it was a scary movie with Boris Karloff? It needn’t be like this! We can embrace growing old by accepting it with grace.
The process of aging allows us to take notice of the wonders around us if we are able to un-hurry. Perhaps for the first time since we were little, life shows us how magnificent the details can be.
“We can embrace growing old by accepting it with grace. The process of aging allows us to take notice of the wonders around us if we are able to un-hurry. Perhaps for the first time since we were little, life shows us how magnificent the details can be.”
Flowers, birds, little animals, strangers, friends, and family all take on a new sparkle. When we allow this to happen and let go of the need to be defined by what we do in favor of who we are, an inner beauty and grace will be exposed for the very first time. We are made new just when we thought we were getting old.
Wouldn't it be terrific to anticipate this elderhood experience as if it was the exciting adventure of watching trains pull out of the station with on the tracks to who-knows-where?
I was growing up in Danville, Illinois back in the 1950's, “let's go down to the train depot!”, was a signal an adventure might be afoot.
A decade later, the call might come that we should go to the airport and watch the planes take off and land. Sort of an interesting distinction there.
Both were prompts of impending out-of-the-ordinary exploits, but only the train seemed to be all about the transition of leaving. We would dress for dinner and head out to the old C&EI station.
There was a decent restaurant there that made good hamburgers and wonderful hot chocolate sundaes. It was all a big treat. Occasionally we would even hop on a northbound passenger and take a short trip to Hoopeston and visit cousins.
Once you got my Dad started you never know where you might end up.
Open to us was a whole new world.
Bob Jones died shortly after finishing this post on July 14 2020.
What Is Your Heritage? Remembering Who I Am
There is a lot of talk about heritage recently. Some of those conversations surround who our families might have aligned themselves with or where they might have live in the nineteenth century. We seem bound and determined to re-fight the Civil War again.
Who I am cannot be so simple.
Our DNA has bee mixing and remixing for much longer than this country has been colonized. Tracing family ancestry has been a hobby of mine for decades. And there is evidence of a fascinating story that far transcends statuary.
When it comes down to most of us, the whole concept of heritage can get pretty cloudy. Take my direct family an d our involvement in the Civil War. I grew up with tales of valor and a close association with the cause of the Union.
My Great Grandfather Miner belonged to "The Wide-Awakes", a group of your Lincoln activists. My 2x Great Grandfather was responsible for part of the Underground Railroad in Iowa and helped shaped legal decisions surrounding slavery.
My grand fathers brother was a hero of The Wilderness and Gettysburg. Several others fought for The North. Then, in 1967, I changed high schools. to find out from my father that I was related to a classmate who represented one of the oldest Southern families. My grandfather's uncle had been a Brigadier General for the Confederacy. Later research showed that my family was full of blue and gray loyalists and heritage on all sides.
“There is a voice in the Universe urging us to remember our purpose for being on this great Earth. This is the voice of inspiration, which is within each and every one of us.”
We are more than this moment. We are more than this moment in time. When you dig around in your roots the richness revealed will amaze you. Let nobody try to convince you otherwise. Any attempt to narrow who you are or diminishes the scope of who you can become is insulting. Our story of unification is far more compelling than our story of separation.
Our Independence Day Celebrations
There is nothing quite like The Fourth of July.
There are nothing but happy memories surrounding it! I suppose things have happened which weren’t, but I just don’t remember them. What I do remember are baseball games with my friends, swimming all day at the pool, an annual pony ride, picnics and lots of fireworks. I remember specific celebrations with clarity. When my Uncle Bob died, we went to Pittsburgh to gather with Aunt Dottie. Everyone went to the fireworks display together, and it was so spectacular! Streams of red, white and blue filled the sky from the clouds to the ground. It was raining patriotic celebration. I think Uncle Bob was lighting them with a cigar in heaven! I remember putting my babies on blankets at our country club in Danville, and making all of the “ooh and ahh” sounds my parents made with me on the same hillside years before. I remember lots of potato salad.
“You have to love a nation that celebrates its independence every July 4, not with a parade of guns, tanks, and soldiers who file by the White House in a show of strength and muscle, but with family picnics where kids throw Frisbee’s, the potato salad gets iffy, and the flies die from happiness. You may think you have overeaten, but it is patriotism.”
The founders of our country set up a dynamic system of freedom. We have come together each 4th of July to celebrate the truths which seemed self-evident 244 years ago...and remains so today. We are all created equal. This allows us to have deep feelings of home, patriotism and an abiding connection with each other. Each year at this time we gather from sea to shining sea. Disgruntled partisans can put aside their quarrels with the knowledge that our virtues far outweigh our shortcomings.
I remember the bi-centennial party at The Sandusky Homestead with all of my relatives and how awesome it was to be in our family home built just a little more than fifty years after the signing of The Declaration of Independence. Since then there have been so many celebrations. Each adding to the treasure trove of rich memories. This year will be different. The pandemic will keep a lot of the festivities muted or cancelled. But, we will get through this and past it. The hoopla and regalia will return in full force. In the meantime, here is a suggestion. Watch this little vignette from "The Sandlot" for a touch of tear jerking nostalgia. Happy Independence Day to one and all.
Simple Advice for Coping with Adversity.
You don't have to look around much to find a hefty supply of adversity nowadays.
But it’s how we meet and overcome it that makes all the difference. The best formula I know of has been passed down for generations in my family. Roy Jones was a lifelong educator whose message to his many descendants about living a balanced and happy life was this; "Don't Worry. Don't Hurry. Don't Hate.”
““Don’t Worry. Don’t Hurry. Don’t Hate.””
There were plenty of hard times, economic depressions, two world wars, and deaths of children that Roy experienced over his long life. It certainly wasn't a cakewalk. This is one of the defining examples of Grandpa’s ability to rise above adversity, My cousin, Ed related a tragic story to us at a recent family gathering. Ed was only 19 when he found Uncle Paul’s body in his bedroom. A gun in his hand, our dear uncle had taken his own life. Ed ran to the home of our family doctor who came to the house and pronounced him dead. Dr. Green said that he would go with Ed to tell our grandfather of the horrible incident. Grandpa Jones, over 80 years of age, met them at the door and received the bad news. His tearful response was this; “How could Paul do that? Life is wonderful.” In the moment of greatest suffering Grandpa could only claim the marvel of God’s generosity and the bounty of a life lived with gratitude. There was simply no value in worry, hurry, or hate.
Though we face some difficult situations right now, I can assure you they won’t hang around forever. Gloom and doom projections will have dissipated like fog on the ocean sunrise. An old friend of mine once said; "Things come to pass, not to stay." He is right of course. The trick of coming out better on the other side is to make a conscious decision every day. Don't Worry. Don't Hurry. Don't Hate. You might be surprised at how well things turn out after all.
For more information about Stress Management: Doing What Matters in Times of Stress: An Illustrated Guide is a stress management guide for coping with adversity.
The Bondage of Worry Revisited
People are worried about so many things today. Theses are certainly turbulent times. Last year, I wrote about worry and the toll it takes. My Sunday Journal offering today is a kind of “best of” feature which seemed well worth sharing again. Let’s stop wasting time with worry. It gets us nowhere.
Worry is a jailer who keeps us shackled. He forces us to peer ten steps ahead while reminding us of how inadequately we are prepared for what might come next. I have seen the effects of this in my counseling offices day after day for the past four decades. It manifests in substance abuse disorders, depression, anxiety, and hypochondria. But regardless of diagnosis, the result is that life (which is going on in the present moment) rushes by unappreciated. And hope is stifled. The worry prison makes sure of such things.
Worry is a liar. Studies show that most people spend anywhere from one to eight hours every day worrying about things when only 8% of those problems ever actually materialize. What a waste of time and energy! Freeing ourselves from bondage requires acceptance of this reality.
“Worry does not empty tomorrow of its sorrow, it empties today of its strength.”
I'm always comforted by the way Jesus addresses worry. He gives perfect guidance to listeners in what is known as his Sermon on the Mount. In this message of how to live, pray and serve one another, he gives special attention to worry telling us simply not to do it. (Matthew 6:25-34). He asks if anyone can add a single hour to their life by worrying. Of course, the answer is a resounding NO. For if we are to be free and if we are to live fully...life demands an even more resounding YES. The fact is that our control over outcomes is limited no matter how much we would like to be in charge of them. What is required is that we do what needs to be done and address whatever concerns crop up. After that, we just have to 'Let go and Let God'.
Here is a little slogan I offer to my clients. It's a great reminder when worries show up and try to imprison us.
This is the only moment available to me. This is it. Just this.
Picking Up The Feather
There is a wonderful old story about a mythical beast known as The Firebird and a young hunter who is destined to live out a long association with it. I first heard the ancient tale when I was 41 at a "Gathering of Men" in Atlanta hosted by Robert Bly, Coleman Banks, and Robert Johnson. Bly, and the others unraveled the Firebird legend over the course of a day. It was quite transformational for the hundreds of men taking part in the event. Though there is no space for the long saga of The Firebird in this journal, I can share the opening events upon which the story evolves along many adventures.
Long, long ago, before time was kept on wrists and it rang out in bell-towers, a young hunter rode his horse at full speed through a wide open clearing near the top of a mountain. Vast amounts of wood had been clear cut and gathered there long ago to build a retaining wall for the King's palace. Now it was all grass and wildflowers. The horse he rode wasn't like any you might see today. Much larger and more mighty than a Clydesdale, these horses disappeared from the face of the planet when chivalry died. Some say the Earth swallowed them up and holds them awaiting the day when chivalry returns. Then they will ride again and true justice will reign. So the story goes.
But on this day, the boy was only interested in the exhilaration of speed. Everything was a blur of blue and green as they sped along. Then something caught the hunters eye. A glint of gold caught his attention just at the edge of the wood. He drew his Horse of Power to a stop. There, gleaming in a beam of sunshine, was a magnificent, enormous, golden feather. The young man began to dismount when his horse of power said this; "I know what you're thinking. and I would advise against it. The trouble is not now The trouble is before you." Though somewhat chastened,the young man dismounted and approached the feather. It was unlike anything he had ever seen. Long and sleek with markings of pure gold, it was obvious to him that it came from the tale of The Great Firebird. Nobody had ever possessed such a feather and his mind reeled with possibilities of fame and wealth. His horse chimed in again saying; "Pick it up at your own peril. But there will be trouble" But the young hunter replied that he would pick it up and then take it to the King for what must be vast reward. For nobody had ever possessed a golden feather from the tale of The Firebird. He would make it a gift to the King and receive vast rewards and recognition. And so they sped off for the castle.
The tale goes on from adventure to adventure. There is plenty of trouble, some reward, and much peril to be sure. Good overcomes evil in the end. Heroes vanquish villains. Love triumphs (as far as we know).
It seems to me that we are presented with a big choice. Here and Now. Probably more than one. Like the young hunter, we have been given opportunities. Will we pick up the feather and go off on perilous adventures? Or, leaving the feather behind, will we turn around to grasp what we know and understand? One decision will change the world. The other will maintain the status quo. There is much for each of us to do if we decide to pick up that feather.
Finding Our Fathers
Happy Fathers Day to all. Fond memories and difficult ones alike mix on this day where we recognize the men who gave us life. Expectations of brilliant performances often fall short of the hopes we had. As well, our own children might clearly see where we have fallen short.
Atticus Finch
Very few of us get to draw the Atticus Finch card. Harper Lee’s tribute to him was perfect when she wrote; “Atticus Finch fought the good fight. And that, regardless of outcomes, merits enduring respect. What more can we expect from our fathers?”
I was one of the fortunate ones. My Dad was patient but firm and I made it my mission to avoid disappointing him. He loved playing cards with me and my friends when we were teenagers and college kids, always taking us for every dime in the poker pot. I could go on and on. But lots of kids have deep wounds and resentments kept alive by issues of abandonment, abuse, neglect and a myriad of other trauma throughout their lives.
“My friend, this body offers to carry us for nothing - as the ocean carries logs.
So on some days the body wails with its great energy;
it smashes up the boulders,
lifting small crabs, that flow around the sides.
Someone knocks on the door.
We do not have time to dress.
He wants us to go with him through the blowing and rainy streets,
to the dark house.
We will go there, the body says,
and there find the father whom we have never met,
who wandered out in a snowstorm the night we were born,
and who then lost his memory,
and has lived since longing for his child,
whom he saw only once...
while he worked as a shoemaker,
as a cattle herder in Australia,
as a restaurant cook who painted at night.
When you light the lamp you will see him.
he sits there behind the door....
the eyebrows so heavy,
the forehead so light....
lonely in his whole body,
waiting for you.”
I wanted nothing more than to be one of the exceptional fathers, but fell far short of the mark. When my girls were little, I would say that I was very good. Always engaged in their activities, a storyteller who delighted their friends, I took them places, taught them things, and enjoyed every minute of it. Then something happened. A lot of things really. I lost myself. Addiction, money troubles, and deep depression overcame me. I wandered out into an unfamiliar world, and separated myself from everything and almost everyone I loved. I abandoned life...one bad decision after another...and became an alien to my children. I figured the farther I stayed away from them the better off their lives would be.
It takes a lifetime to build relationships and establish any kind of trust after such devastation has been scattered. My greatest joy is that we are working on it together. One step of their choosing at a time. They became the exceptional parents I dreamed of being. In each one of them and their spouses, I see some of my Dad who lives on through their love. Their children will remember them as being kind, patient, tender, and lighthearted. I wish the happiest of Father’s Day to Jon, Steven, and Matt. You are loved and admired more than you will ever know.
Whether our fathers lived up to our expectations or not, Whether we have lived up to our own standards or not, there is always room for hope and healing.
Thanks to Ben White for sharing their work on Unsplash.
Entering Into Solidarity
What keeps some white folks from joining with those who long-suffer the legacy of prejudice, unequal treatment by the justice system. and racism in our country? It should not be flippantly explained away as hardheartedness. entitlement, or a sense of privilege. Mostly it boils down to fear. When we are confronted by awful truths that can no longer be ignored or denied, we become frightened about the consequences.
How will our marginalized fellow human beings rise up to demand change? What will be lost or taken away in the process? Rather than join in solidarity to find common ground, fear leads some into counter-retaliation, blame, and more deeply rooted denial. The result in usually violent.
“We are confronted primarily with a moral issue. It is as old as the scriptures and is as clear as the American Constitution. We preach freedom around the world, but are we to say to the world, and . . .to each other that this is the land of the free except for the Negroes ...?” ~ President John F. Kennedy,
Perhaps we must be shocked out of our complacency in order to join hands in solidarity. It took graphic photographs of non-violent protesters who braved Bull Connors vicious police dogs in Birmingham, and absolute resistance by Governor George Wallace to accept change in 1963, that President Kennedy was fully awakened to the plight of disenfranchised black Americans. He said that the images and situation on the ground made him sick. He found it intolerable. The result was our Civil Rights Act of 1964.
I am encouraged by the good that is coming from the protests of 2020. It appears that we are once again being awakened from the deep slumber of denial. We have been forced to view unspeakable brutality with video recordings leaving no detail spared. Entering into solidarity with those so oppressed seems to be the only moral and right thing to do. We can put our fears aside when we join together to bring about all of the changes, guaranteed in the Constitution "in order to form a more perfect union, establish justice, insure domestic tranquility, provide for the common defense, promote the general welfare, and secure the blessings of liberty to ourselves and our posterity."
Once Invisible
When I was a boy my superpower was invisibility.
My best friend shared the gift. We discovered our unusual abilities when we were 10. There was a cement pond in the woods behind Schlarman High School. It was hidden on the ruins of the old Hegeler mansion. It was a very hot, humid day, and despite the modesty of good Catholic and Presbyterian upbringings, we soon found ourselves two wild naked Indians romping through the ‘wilderness’ unworried about any eyes that might see us. For several years thereafter we did things with bravado that few others would have dared. Clothed and unclothed. We were invisible.
There is another kind of invisibility that is not a superpower. It comes, when one is devalued and rejected. Black Americans, other people of color, and those living on the margins, know this experience well. The disabled and disenfranchised live beneath the view of most people every day.
““I am invisible, understand, simply because people refuse to see me. Like the bodiless heads you see sometimes in circus sideshows, it is as though I have been surrounded by mirrors of hard, distorting glass. When they approach me they see only my surroundings, themselves or figments of their imagination, indeed, everything and anything except me.””
It takes a lot to be recognized as an equal when those with power are not interested. Power discounts the validity of claims that some are ‘more equal than others’ by hearkening back to the good old days when everything was copacetic. Or at least that was their experience. They object to any notion of personal bias. Blaming others is easier and denial has been such a comfortable hiding place. But now the powerless, who never languished in those good old days, will not be ignored. There is too much video evidence that affirms their position. Too many broken promises. Organized and passionate, they will be seen and they will be heard.
There will be backlash. There will be resistance. But, once invisible and then noticed, there is no path back. Change is gonna come as the old song says. It is up to all of us to be a part of it, embrace it, and then to celebrate our oneness.
Shining a Fresh Light on Old Wisdom
Simple yet profound wisdom once was passed around in hard working agricultural America. Sayings that summed up years of experience were spread by elders who had little time for small talk.
Yet there were tales to tell beneath them which gave each an untold importance and perhaps even a touchstone to guide if the listener was willing to ponder. My grandfather, Ches Baum, was one who spread these old sayings around. He was well educated and successful, but often pulled one of the old idioms out in its colloquial form. I was too young and headstrong to understand what he really meant when he applied one to a situation at hand. Sometimes I was amused and other-times rather annoyed. But now they all make sense, and their secrets seem precious.
Once, during a the turbulent 1960’s Civil Rights Movement, a family member was redressing protesters and lack of authority the government was showing by not stopping them. Another family member was arguing that it was high time the demands of demonstrators were met. Ches interrupted the debate by saying this. "Tain't nobody perfect." His comment was a conversation stopper.
It's true. Tain't nobody perfect.
We all bring our stories to every situation. None of them can be free of bias. Many have been learned and incorporated with some degree of prejudice. It's impossible to experience life without picking them up and strewing them about as we make our way. Understanding this is central to freeing ourselves from their bondage. Addressing issues, finding common ground, and cooperating towards mutually beneficial outcomes should always be the goal in any conflict. I’m sure that’s what the Constitutional framers had in mind as they considered the First Amendment.
We cannot employ a hammer mentality in which my beliefs are the only valid ones. Because, as Rowan Williams, Archbishop of Canterbury once told us, "If all you have is a hammer, everything looks like a nail.”
It's my opinion that we have been hammer-heads long enough. It's time to make some significant changes in how we deal with systemic racism and social injustice. We will discover that many of the things we think we hate can be mixed together with all of our own imperfections to make surprising new creations.
Jo Jones a pastor from Bentonville, Arkansas retold an old familiar country story that seems very relevant today. It was one that Ches loved to tell and I adapted it to his version.
A visiting Methodist preacher and circuit rider was attending a gathering at the church in Indianola, Illinois. An old-timer, fresh out from the fields was asked to return thanks for all of the well filled baskets which had been assembled for the picnic. His wife, and several other women had baked biscuits. Here was the prayer he offered:
"Lord, I hate buttermilk", the farmer began. The visiting pastor opened one eye to glance at the farmer and wonder where this was going. The farmer loudly proclaimed, "Lord, I hate lard." Now the pastor was growing concerned. Without missing a beat, the farmer continued, "And Lord, you know I don't much care for raw white flour." The pastor once again opened an eye to glance around and saw that he wasn't the only one to feel uncomfortable.
Then the farmer added, "But Lord, when you mix them all together and bake them, I do love warm fresh biscuits. So Lord, when things come up that we don't like, when life gets hard, when we don't understand what you're saying to us, help us to just relax and wait until you are done mixing. It will probably be even better than biscuits. Amen."
Always keep in mind 'you go to school all your life' and tain't nobody perfect. That goes for everybody.
Photo by Liana Mikah on Unsplash
No Room and No Quarter for Racism
There is no place for racism or oppression in any of its many forms in our world.
The values and moral teachings of all religions call for equality, inclusivity, and unconditional love toward all people. God made each and every being along with a planet and universe full of life and wonder. Each creation contains the DNA of its Creator. And God called every bit of it "Good." We are kin. We are family. We are brothers and sisters. What kind of warped, narrow thinking can rationalize the superiority or inferiority of anyone? It is time for a sustained anti-racism movement.
Many people are awakening to the reality of that there have been over four hundred years of unspeakable oppression for the descendants of Africans, kidnapped, sold and enslaved by white men. With the killing of George Floyd, (perhaps for the first time since the Civil Rights Movement of the last century) we have been forced to face culpability in our legacy of injustice fueled by power and privilege.
I’ve been a person who fought for changes in social justice. As a college student, I demonstrated for racial equality, justice, and peace. I wrote articles for my college underground paper promoting non-violence and social/civic responsibility. I took several courses on black history and black literature. But it wasn’t until 1990 that I began to explore what Jim Wallis at Sojourners called America’s Greatest Sin.
“The United States of America was established as a white society, founded upon the near genocide of another race and then the enslavement of yet another”
Members from the fields of education, social service, and leaders of a wide spectrum of religious communities gathered to explore systemic racism using materials from a Sojourners Guided Study. We were black, white, men, women, old, young, wealthy and marginalized. We also attended each other's houses of worship, ate many meals together, and invited one another into our homes. Real conversations built on trust brought about dynamic changes in ourselves and in the community. Groups of those servant leaders continue gathering to this day.
I learned a lot about my black friends that couldn't have happened without those soul to soul gatherings. I had been proud that my Quaker great-great grandfather was a leader of The Underground Railroad Movement in Iowa and ashamed that another ancestor had been a cruel slave-owner. An AME pastor from our group helped me come to reconciliation with family history. He told me that healing can begin at the doorstep of the church but must mature and blossom across dining room tables in our homes. His lessons helped forge my belief that change comes when we are willing to make ourselves vulnerable to one another.
The heat is on across our nation to re-create a law enforcement system that is fair to all. Lady Justice must be blind. Disparity in the way we treat white people as opposed to people of color will no longer be supported. We cannot kneel on the necks of oppressed people and then be surprised that riots and demonstrations follow. Systemic changes must be legislated from federal, state, and local governments. It is up to each of us to reach out in solidarity by gathering in homes, sharing meals, and acting like friends. Then, the pervasive character of racism that cuts to the core of all spiritual truths will begin to fade away.
The ugly barriers of bias and hatred will finally be torn down to reveal the possibilities of a bright American future.
What Am I Supposed to Do?
As tensions rise, knowing what to do does not come with easy answers for most of us.
We have been faced with a seemingly relentless pandemic and a reawakening to the reality of discrimination, violence, mistrust, and hatred with the murder of George Floyd in Minneapolis. Parts of our great cities have been burned and looted as cries for social justice are compromised by lawlessness. Alongside all of this, the fragile mitigation of COVID-19 is threatened as people flock together without regard to social distancing or wearing of masks. What are we to do?
“Be patient toward all that is unsolved in your heart and try to love the questions themselves, like locked rooms and like books that are now written in a very foreign tongue. Do not now seek the answers, which cannot be given you because you would not be able to live them. And the point is, to live everything.”
We have a Zoom gathering of old friends every Sunday where glasses of wine toast another week survived. None of the six of us are exactly Spring Chickens. Let's just say we have been around long enough to be called elders. None of this "senior" business for us. We're just Baby Boomers with wrinkles and lots of experiences. All six served as professionals in fields providing direct service to those who suffer. And each has been active in spiritual/religious life.
We have shaken things up from time to time. So, when the question arose last Sunday, there was a moment of silence and hesitation. "What am I supposed to do?" In the face of these most recent crises, when confronted with hate-filled, conspiracy theory laden, fear and anger, "What am I supposed to say?" Though we batted the questions around and processed our feelings and worries , no answer was ever offered. And, I suppose, that’s because there isn’t any single response that fits all situations. Maybe the questions are more important than any answers.
Questions lead us away from the raging storm into a place of consideration and contemplation. We breathe for a moment and think before doing anything. Just think. Any of us can choose to fan the flames of violence with what we say and do...or, by our silence, can implicitly give permission to hate. But, we can also chose to use our words and actions to object with respect, stand nonviolently in solidarity, and offer healing by intently listening and finding common ground.
Nobody is untouched or undisturbed over the turbulent happenings of 2020. It seems like one thing after another keeps trying to pile on as we rush headlong into disaster. Governmental leaders are trying to do their best, but the results haven't been so good. But one calm, positive, compassionate voice will make an incredible difference. One leader, followed by a choir of others can right our ship and help us find our way. Senator Robert Kennedy gave that kind of speech in 1968 Indianapolis after the murder of Dr. Martin Luther King. It didn't magically bind up all of our wounds, but rather gave us direction and reminded us of who we were. It reset the tone. I've listened to it several times lately, and offer its timely words for all of our readers today. There is a way back to sanity. We have all the right stuff to rise above the suffering. A new age of social justice and an awakening to better understanding one another is at hand. Be that one voice to make it happen.
Mental Health Awareness Month; Be Wary of Loneliness
May is Mental Health Awareness Month.
Even as quarantines, physical distancing, and other measures have been put in place and practiced to protect us, they have also created a dangerous uptick in loneliness. Domestic violence, situational depression, substance abuse, and suicide have risen to cause a side-by-side epidemic.
Extreme loneliness was already referred to as “The Loneliness Contagion” two years ago when I first penned a resource for ChaplainUSA.org. The recent coronavirus measures have only intensified an already critical situation. John Cacioppo, PhD from the University of Chicago believes it is spreading from person to person like a disease. Though experienced inordinately among millennials, it is increasing across the generations.
Where Is This Loneliness Coming From?
Dr. Shannon Monnat says that we live in an era of individualism, disinvestment in social safety nets, declines in social cohesion, and increased loneliness. Isolation due to lots of time spent on social media sites while glued to cellphones is one of the reasons for decreasing real life interactions and what is being called the Fear of Missing Out. Though there are multiple chatting contacts, swapping of photos and other kinds of interaction, people are feeling lonelier than ever. This is strikingly similar to the social isolation commonly known as an experience affecting the elderly due to decreased mobility and loss of friends and partners. Despite the fact that younger people have massive quantities of friends online, this increasing loneliness stems from a decreasing quality of relationships. In other words, a person may have a lot of friends but still find that their needs for social contact are not met.
We have a fundamental need to belong. This is what gives life meaning. In order to feel a sense of belonging there must be the presence of authentic as opposed to virtual relationships. They must be based on mutual caring responses in which we feel loved and valued. It is also necessary to have frequent interactions with other people. Loneliness diminishes or disappears when we feel like we matter.
The Extreme State; Loneliness and Repetitious Behavior
I am not a mechanism, an assembly of various sections.and it is not because the mechanism is working wrongly, that I am ill. I am ill because of wounds to the soul, to the deep emotional self, and the wounds to the soul take a long, long time, only time can help and patience, and a certain difficult repentance, long difficult repentance, a realization of life’s mistake, and the freeing oneself from the endless repetition of the mistake which mankind at large has chosen to sanctify. ~ D.H. Lawrence
Dr. Corinne Gerwe has done extensive research on what she calls the Extreme State. Her research shows that loneliness can be a predominant feeling which is responsible for igniting addiction and chronic relapse. Her book, The Orchestration of Joy and Suffering: Understanding Chronic Addiction (Algora Publishing 2001), explores the relationship between childhood experiences resulting in extreme feelings and subsequent behaviors that relieve or diminish the intensity of the feelings. She demonstrates that the behavior patterns, including addiction can persist throughout a lifetime. Dr. Gerwe found that when loneliness is experienced in the extreme (or for long durations) that the brain begins to search for relief found in behaviors. Neuronal pathways provide quick solutions to resolve or lessen the intensity of the feeling. Even behaviors which have proven to be destructive such as drug and alcohol abuse are repeated and repeated. It is a cycle that feeds on itself. For example, one set of behaviors that results from loneliness is isolating oneself. It would seem counterintuitive yet is one of the most common responses. As a person withdraws from the world, isolates and avoids, they become even lonelier and more likely to use substances for relief. Is it any wonder that powerful opioids, which practically eliminate physical/emotional pain and suffering are being used to combat chronic loneliness?
Health Issues Result from Loneliness
Loneliness is killing us. It has been reported by Richard Lang, MD of Cleveland Clinic that loneliness affects 60 million Americans and that chronic loneliness poses a serious health risk. New research suggests that loneliness and social isolation are as much a threat to health as obesity and smoking cigarettes. It can impair cognitive performance. Loneliness is one of the feelings most associated with suicide. Socializing and interacting with other people is a basic human need. If social needs are not met, a person can start to feel lonely which leads to depression and possibly suicidal thoughts. Finally, studies show that loneliness increases the risk for early death by 45 percent and the chance of developing dementia in later life by 64 percent. There seems to be no doubt that loneliness is an epidemic, a contagion and one of the most serious health risks facing us today.
Relationships Overcome Loneliness“
I once counseled a young man who was suffering from intense loneliness. He had just started his freshman year at a local college and had changed from a happy, confident, outgoing high schooler to an isolated, self-conscious, anxiety ridden guy. All of his friends had gone away to other schools and he was the only one left behind. There were no more service clubs or sports teams in his life. His studies were going nowhere. Jeff was considering suicide. It was not that he was alone. He had a roommate, lived in a busy dorm, had joined an intramural football squad and was attending church on campus. He was a busy as he could be. But there were no real quality personal or community relationships. He might as well have been a hermit for the overwhelming loneliness he was experiencing. Jeff’s situation is not uncommon. Senior citizens who retire from their life’s work know well what he was going through. Folks who relocate to another part of the country for great work opportunities understand it. Suddenly, what I call a ‘peopled life’ becomes vacant. The answer cannot be found by busying oneself. For Jeff, and all the lonely people, the solution lies in connecting and creating personal relationships through belonging to meaningful community. A feeling of being understood and valued creates a closeness that is being craved in loneliness.This closeness doesn’t have to be something that happens randomly or by accident. For Jeff, we connected with a religious fraternal campus organization. He joined and was embraced by the members. He had a new family of friends. He also began attending AA meetings at a nearby community center. There he found other people who were struggling just like him. The members met for coffee and had frequent social events. His loneliness faded into oblivion. It was as simple as that.
As we rejoin and reopen, it is important to reconnect. Community is within our control to create. This contagion or epidemic of loneliness can be mitigated just like COVID-19. We have the power to help others find the way out of loneliness. That power is found in real relationships.
The Culture of Life; A Garden Entrusted to You
Darkness and death have put on a ghastly show in every theatre and on every stage around the world this year. And though many of us have joined together as beacons of peace, charity, and love, others have sulked onto the streets to argue, spread ill will, and divide. We neither have to endure nor play into the hands of haters. We can overcome evil by not tolerating it in any of its forms. It is up to us to stand as a Culture of Life which will not be crushed by politics, prejudice, and fear.
Gloom is always overpowered by light.
Years ago, my family would gather at Allerton Park near Monticello, Illinois for our annual April Birthday celebration for Grandpa Jones. The elegant mansion and manicured gardens were once the property of railroad magnate and philanthropist, Robert Allerton.
Allerton Park’s The Sun Singer
All of us children were allowed to explore and run around willy-nilly, discovering sculptures, artwork and colorful flowers. But one of the most stunning displays at Allerton was never in bloom until the middle of May.
So, sometime later in Spring my dear Aunt Beulah would take us to the park so we could walk on top of a wall overlooking thousands of perennial peonies. The gardens were just beyond the Three Graces, a Greek statue of goddesses signifying beauty. cheerfulness, and elegance bringing joy to the world.
I never left without being in awe. When we returned to Beulah's one time, I went back to Grandpa's room to ask him about the peonies and statue. He said that the Peony Garden was his favorite, as it had been for Mr. Allerton. And then he went on to say; "I think that life is wonderful and full of wonder. Spring starts with bluebells and ends with peonies. Winter never wins." Grandpa planted seeds for my faith in a Culture of Life.
The concept of a Culture of Life confirms to me that everything eventually gives way to Wonderful. I frequently write about it. My lectures and therapy sessions with clients were filled with it. This is a touchstone of my faith. I can embrace that life is wonderful in part because I have experienced struggle and trouble.
Two members of my family have lost their lives to violence. I have learned that life is difficult even when we are not faced with a pandemic! There is no use in denying the fact. We win and lose, slip, fall, and triumph. People get sick and die. Money comes and goes. This is the way it is. My personal struggles and troubles could make me bitter or imprison me in resentment. But I’ve been down that path and refuse to travel it again. So, with all of the tragedy, how can I continue to affirm that life is wonderful?
“The wind, one brilliant day, called
to my soul with an odor of jasmine.
”In return for the odor of my jasmine,
I’d like all the odor of your roses.”
”I have no roses; all the flowers
in my garden are dead.”
”Well then, I’ll take the withered petals
and the yellow leaves and the waters of the fountain.”
the wind left. And I wept. And I said to myself:
”What have you done with the garden that was entrusted to you?””
Scott Peck wrote about these difficulty of life postulating that they can become our transcendent truth when we truly see it as so. Our difficulties can destroy us or bring forth a stunning garden of compassionate delight.
I believe that we can become A Culture of Life blessed by the attributes of Three Graces only when we accept everything and everybody as being one in God’s eternal loving embrace.
Then, this Culture of Life will overcome tragedy, trials, and difficulties. The fight to comprehend why bad things happen…and the unfairness of it all…will disappear. There will no longer be a need to blame other people, places, or situations for our problems. We will take personal and communal responsibility. Indeed, we will embrace the now-familiar phrase, "We are in this together."
Heal, Help, And Comfort; Just Do The Next Right Thing
I wonder what we have learned and how we are changing as the pandemic morphs into the next phase.
The toll taken and then demonstrated on charts seems to indicate that maybe we are bending the curve as they say. Many of us have become restless and still more have lives turned upside down. So now what? Some people are wearing masks and some will not. Some are maintaining social distance while others flock together. Some are sheltering in place and many are going about as if nothing is wrong. We cannot afford a Pollyanna attitude at this phase of recovery. There are still problems facing us and they require a grassroots effort if we want to come out of this tragedy for-the-better. Federal, State, and Local Government can only do so much. The bulk of the responsibility lies with each of us.
There are three things all of us can do...Heal, Help, and Comfort. It’s possible for us just do the next right thing...and then the next...and so on.
Heal; Before we can do anything to be useful to others, it is urgently necessary to make sure we are healthy. Taking of body temperature frequently, getting tested if there any suspicious symptoms, and maintaining good daily wellness routines are best practices. Just like they tell us on airplanes about emergency oxygen masks; take care of yourself first. But sadly, people are letting go of personal safety habits developed during the shelter in place time. As those businesses and leisure venues begin to reopen there are too many folks no longer taking safety measures seriously…throwing good common sense to the wind. We cannot afford to stop trying to mitigate the spread of this disease because it's just not over yet. We depend on each other to protect our wellbeing through personal responsibility and kindness.
Help; The hand we extend to others might be the only one offered today. Economic fallout over the past three months has been calamitous, especially for those on the margins. Millions are going hungry every day as demonstrated by endless lines at food pickup points. When a problem is as considerable as this one, it's hard to know what to do. Calling up an elderly neighbor to see what things are needed is a good start. If your own resources are low, the call to check in can be every bit as helpful. Donate to local food banks. All we have to do is think creatively, roll up our sleeves, and reach out.
Comfort; Compassion has no price tag. People are suffering significant losses and need to hear words of oneness and solidarity. Perhaps the only thing harder is the loneliness than goes along with it. The National Institute of Mental Health is warning that nearly half of Americans report the coronavirus crisis is harming their mental health. Experts worry that just as hospitals were unprepared for a tsunami of patients, just as vulnerable is the underfunded mental health system. Historic numbers of those experiencing depression, substance abuse, post-traumatic stress disorder and suicide are already beginning to overload resources. The words we speak, cards sent, and support given can make all the difference when someone is feeling the dark emptiness of grief.
"Maybe I have been living much too fast, too feverishly, forgetting to pay attention to what is happening here and now, right under my nose." ~ Henri Nouwen
The 2019-2020 pandemic reminds me that a simple formula for navigating daily life is "just do the next right thing.” My rather extensive psychological training left me feeling that human beings were very complicated. Of course, we are to one degree or another. But, steeped in a mire of my own trials and entanglements, I lost track of how to manage my own affairs. The damage inflicted on myself and my loved ones was extensive. Wreckage of disastrous proportions was strewn everywhere. Luckily, I got the help I needed before all was lost. During a mental health/spiritual retreat of 2000 I found several mentors to lead me back into the light, but one stands out for his simple directions. I found myself sitting in front of his desk feeling more like a 12 year old boy than a 49 year old man. My words spilled out for several minutes as he listened patiently. The barbs and foibles, miscues and mistakes, lies and disguises were all summed up in a blubbering mass of my emotion. His response was heartfelt and brief. He said “Forgive yourself. Just go out and do the next right thing” That was it. No lecture, no judgment, no pontificating over my dilemma. Nothing has really been the same ever since.
So there it is. Just go out and do the next right thing. Heal, help and comfort. Shower the people with love. That's not so hard, is it?
2020 Vision of Mother's Day
The annual celebration of Mothers has come again. I have written several columns over the years about the one-of-a-kind love they give us.
The bond we share with the woman who gave us our first breath is greater than any other we will experience in life. Regardless, most of us spend a good deal of time trying to separate and set boundaries with our mothers. That could be because they seem to so gleefully relish nosing around in our business…offering unsolicited advice despite any resistance we might offer.
We might think of ourselves as adults or even as their adult children, but they don't see it that way at all. To them we are just five year olds in bigger clothing. With all of that (oft failed) limit setting in mind mothers usually aren't fully appreciated until we don't have them any more. Holidays and special occasions are never the same after they’re gone. And there is nobody to call when our knees or egos get skinned.
This Mother's Day is much like the past 32 that have come and gone without my Mom. But it's different too. We've been in quarantine for fifty-odd days and I would like nothing more than to hear Mother's voice assuring me that all will be well. I know that is true, but she’s the one I would believe in the bottom of my heart. Her life story of resilience is the gift she left to cheer me on in place of those words of encouragement, loving arms, and kisses so freely offered.
“The truth is, when our mothers held us, rocked us, stroked our heads -none of us ever got enough of that. We all yearn in some way to return to those days when we were completely taken care of - unconditional love, unconditional attention. Most of us didn't get enough.” ~ Mitch Albom
It’s not easy to be grateful when life seems overwhelmingly unfair. I have been around people who have pulled it off none-the-less but none more bravely than Mom. Her load in life was heavy. She married young to a wonderful guy who was charming, intelligent and athletic. They had a beautiful son, Jack, and life seemed full of promise.
Then, without warning Edgar, the love of her life, was taken away by a virus leaving her a widow and single mother. She met and married my Dad several years later. While while he was overseas fighting in World War II she gave birth to their little girl, Mary Kathryn. Mary K died of brain cancer five years later. There were good times that followed. I was born. My folks prospered. Then, in 1975, my Dad died with ALS. Jack died in 1978 by his own hand. Mother had every reason to be filled with sadness. Sometimes she was overcome by it but always found ways to bounce back. She chose to be happy. Her celebrations were lavish and fun. Kathryn is remembered by friends and family with one word proclaimed over and over. Grace. She taught us that this is how life works when we choose happiness over melancholy.
"When I was 5 years old, my mother always told me that happiness was the key to life. When I went to school, they asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up. I wrote down ‘happy’. They told me I didn’t understand the assignment, and I told them they didn’t understand life." ~ John Lennon
I wish that Mom could have been spared the intensity of anguish in her life. I wish that I could have been a better son. That's the way it is for most of us. If only we had been more attentive and understanding. We become orphans at some point with no parent to correct our path and we yearn for mothering.
We would love to hear the words of our childhood from a mother who says “Don’t worry honey. Everything will be okay.”
Those words still resonate in our lives. They are bread for the journey. They offer a perspective of promise that we can always tap. Thanks Mom. I know. It’ll be fine.
A Need For Security; How To Use Your Get Out Of Jail Free Card
We human beings have an instinctual drive for security encoded on some DNA marker.
Cave dwelling ancestors sought rock shelters for good reasons, and, over the eons, passed on that basic survival legacy to us all. But we remain a vulnerable species. It seems like the more protective measures we take, the more isolated and frightened we become. Layer after layer of security measures is added until finally we are trapped in jail cells of our own making.
I heard a woman on the radio a few days ago who was discussing the "reopening" of the world as COVID-19 restrictions are lifted. She remarked that "Just because you can go out again doesn't mean you have to." It made me remember hours and hours of playing Monopoly back when it was a quite popular indoors form of entertainment. We unintentionally worked out all kinds of personal issues by role-playing tycoons and spendthrifts. We even discovered the importance of cooperation and compromise to get what we wanted. But what the person being interviewed on the radio show said reminded me about the valuable strategy in Monopoly of keeping and/or using your Get Out of Jail Free card. At early points in the game you use it readily (when rolling doubles doesn't work) and hold on to it when there are hotels lurking to rob you of money accumulated. You can sit in jail and collect rent while having no risk of bankruptcy.
We do have a choice to get out from behind the doors of our recently sequestered lives. And I hope that we do so with caution and integrity, thinking more of others than of ourselves. There is another kind of jail that is more troublesome than the one which has kept us inside for a couple of months. The prison of fear that drives wedges between us threaten us far more than facemask and six feet apart rules. Saint Augustine taught that we are engaged in an internal battle between the love of self, closed to transcendence, and love that gives of itself and thereby finds God. For the past several years, we have been losing that battle. Absorbed in self-interest, we have engaged in divisive politics, separative religious practices, and intolerance of those deemed unlike 'us' in dozens of ways. We have been hunkered down in an ever failing attempt to maintain safety and security from unseen fears more deadly than any virus. It's time to throw in our Get Out of Jail Free card.
All religions affirm that love is the authentic force of the universe. None dispute that God is Love. They provide a pathway to freedom if we are willing to let go of hatred, fear, and resentment. Likewise, the folks of 12 Step programs provide a rather simple model that allows one to cash in the old Monopoly card. Former First Lady, Betty Ford who was a recovering alcoholic, once offered that after completing the first eleven steps of AA a person is called to action. She went on to say the AA 12th Step was a blend of spiritual awakening, carrying the message, and daily practice. It kindles a joy of living. -
“Having had a spiritual awakening as the result of these steps, we tried to carry this message to alcoholics, and to practice these principles in all our affairs.” 12th Step of AA
The way out of our jail may not be as easy a board game strategy. Because, like recovery from addictive illnesses, it demands an acceptance of the problem and a desire to change. We will have to tear down walls as President Reagan demanded rather than build up new ones. We will have to open our arms to one another just like the welcoming Lady Liberty. We will have to once again embrace Lincoln's vision of a new nation, conceived in liberty and dedicated to the proposition that all men are created equal. We will have to retrieve the magic of the ordinary and rediscover sacredness in each thing as Richard Rohr implores.
It has been suggested by historians that the Kent State Massacre fifty years ago this week (May 4, 1970) started American polarization and we have never been the same since. Perhaps that is true. But if one such terrible event could change us so dramatically, couldn't the experience of this pandemic foster a turn for the better? Couldn't we come together united in an effort to heal rather than hurt?
I'm happy that there has been a resurgence of interest in Monopoly, other board games, and family jigsaw puzzles during the pandemic. We've found both old and new ways to connect. If we are able to carry some of that spirit forward, secure in our oneness, the Get Out of Jail Free card will have been played.
Each of Us is Essential
There isn't a day that goes by in which we fail to hear something about essential workers.
During this health crisis, and time of great need, they have come to us like masked angels to rescue, protect, and comfort. We cheer them sequestered behind windows, create home-made gowns and face coverings to keep them safe, and appreciate them in our hearts more than they will ever know. Here's to each one...essential in every way.
“I am praying today that in this moment there is also a shifting of our values that allows us to see that in God’s eyes everyone is essential.”
When working as a counselor/therapist/administrator in hospitals and clinics I was deemed to be essential for the wellbeing of our patients. If weather or some other crisis kept others home, it was necessary for me to show up so that medication and supportive treatment could be given.
The people I served were almost always grateful and glad to see me, and I have to admit, their appreciation was heartwarming and more treasured than any paycheck I ever received.
Retired from the field for half-a-decade, it still makes me feel like I did some things that made the world a little better. Now, I use those 46 years of experience to give a personal touch to my work as a professional journalist. Now I am non-essential by definition. But here's one thing I have learned. There is no one among us who would fit that characterization. Each of us is essential.
Father Giuseppe Berardelli
Father Hamlin's point of course is that our sacred and essential identity in God's eyes is at the core of who we are. We are powerfully made from all eternity. There has never been one like you and there will never be another. His prayer that our values might shift so that we could clearly see this in every person we encounter is one we all need to embrace. There is no obscure life nor is there an obscure death.
One example of many is that of Father Giuseppe Berardelli from Casnigo, Italy who gave away the life-saving respirator purchased for him by his parishioners to a younger patient who was also struggling with novel coronavirus. The priest didn't even know the person but gave his life so the other might survive. There was no fanfare for Berardelli. But he was certainly essential.
The pandemic will ultimately go away, becoming a part of history.
One hundred years from now few will be alive to share their memories of it. There might be some stories of silly people who crowded beaches at Spring Break in defiance of a disease that would kill so many due to their recklessness.
Mention might be made of irresponsible leaders who called COVID-19 a hoax, played golf and worked out in gyms despite the risks, or visited hospitals without protective equipment, setting a standard with untold consequences.
But there might be a better story to be told…not only of heroes who emerged but of a culture transformed. Our grandchildren and their descendants could live their lives with a universal awakening that every person and all living things are essential. Wouldn’t that be a game-changer.
And what wonderful world it will be.
The Land In Between; Moving From What Was To What Shall Be
We now find ourselves living in a different reality. What has been a period of practically universal seclusion is gradually changing.
The refuge of our homes during this pandemic has been both comforting and exasperating for most. Of course, there have been many who did not find safety in a refuge. And there were some who had no refuge at all. Heavy burdens of sickness and death have affected hundreds of thousands. Millions have been diagnosed around the world. Caregivers and first responders, heroic in everyday sacrifice, are exhausted. Suddenly unemployed workers wonder where they will be if jobs don't return soon. People are standing in lines for food as the supply chain begins to teeter. What has been is ending and what shall be is unknowable. I call it the land in between.
“We are empty and receptive—erased tablets waiting for new words.” ~ Richard Rohr
What we want to do more than anything during these in-between times is to grasp for the reality we once had. Another is to project and worry about what life will be like in the future. Though it if feels as if we are in the midst of turmoil as change comes, the truth is that the land in between is a perfect place for finding the willingness to discover new paths. It provides the opportunity to put into practice what we have learned during these difficult times. We can define what sort of appreciation we will give to the most important things going forward. It is an invitation to come closer together than ever before and to celebrate the gift of being alive without harming others in the process. It is the place in which we finally recognize that life rarely turns out the way we think it will...and almost never how we plan it.
My uncle and my father were best friends. They delighted in each other as boys growing up in Monticello, Illinois, served in the Navy together during WWII, and though separated by several states, later on, stayed very close as they raised families and built successful businesses. The annual or semi-annual visits with each other were so festive that their boys imagined being an adult must be a lot more fun than being a kid. Bob and Ken dreamed of retiring, playing golf, dancing, having parties, living close by, and growing old together. But a lifetime of dreams dissolved when Dad died before any of that could come to pass. My uncle told me that he would never get over it. But he did. By suffering through a long residence at the land in between, he discovered a way through his brokenness and remapped his life. He extinguished denial and opened up to the love of his wife, children, and grandchildren. When he died, there was an enormous celebration of his life well-lived. I'm also sure that he and Dad are having a big-time playing another round of golf in eternal bliss.
I am one of those people who makes a continual effort to live without regret. This day, this hour, and this moment is a springboard to possibilities. I believe that what has happened in the past months will shape a new, compassionate reality for the majority of people. We may feel as if the comfortable trappings of life have been stripped away. But they have not. We have shed one skin in favor of a new one. Take time to breathe and savor this land in between. There is no doubt in my mind that we can become a whole new world.