Sunday, July 26, 2009

Teach, Your Children Well, Their Father's Help..

Now that Crosby, Stills and Nash are coursing through your head, let me tell you how my day has gone.
It is Sunday morning, my bride is in Amarillo visiting the grand kids, it is cool and quiet. I have decided to go work out after a Saturday of dietary impropriety. I took my dad to dinner (at 4:30) and his favorite place is Catfish Haven. Fried catfish, fried hushpuppies, and a nod to non-fried, a baked potato. My only defense is I wanted to be a good son and take him where he wanted to go. And, unfortunately, it was really good.
So I drove home late last night, turned in and was up and running to the health club as early as I could get rolling. Sort of a penance for bad behavior.
Arrived at the health club at 6:15AM and hoping I would be alone, but no such luck. There was a guy there with his 10-12 year old daughter. As I walked in, it was obvious he was trying to instruct in the different machines and it seemed that when I arrived his tone went up a little, his demeanor was rude and condescending. AS is the custom at health clubs, I made no comment, did not make eye contact, and went about my business.
But here is what I heard...
"Not like that! You have to adjust for your height! Can't you see the adjustment knob?"
"Hurry up, I'm way past my hour for a workout."
"You need to work out, that's the only way to get rid of your flab"

At this point I almost intervened. I'm still seething and feeling guilty about not doing so. I'm sure he would defend himself and say that he was "teaching" her how to work out.
First of all, never take workout instructions from a 40-year-old guy who has a watermelon belly and stick legs. Either he doesn't know what he is doing or he doesn't believe it. I have managed to attain his level of physical fitness by not exercising and eating the wrong foods (see above)
Secondly, stop showing out in front of the crowd and belittling your kids.
Here is my take on parenting:
1. It takes 10 times more honest encouragement than criticism to raise a healthy, balanced person.
2. There has be equal portions of compassion/firmness; sacrifice/satisfaction; humility/honesty; respect given/taken.

There should be required course for parents to be, before the festivities begin, each parent-to-be should be given a 100 hour course on what it means to be a parent. Of course this would only accelerate the decline in birth rates in America, but we would be so much healthier. Of course we do have a course..it is called being parented. I have no idea what this guys role models are for parenting, but I suspect he is emulating what he saw as a young boy. He thinks teaching is authority and control and dominance and he is teaching his little girl these life lessons. This young girl is learning that men are overbearing, rude, inconsiderate, hypocritical, demanding, and loud. He is teaching her resentment, insecurity, and ultimately insolence. Her future is going to be one filled with trying to find some guy who will not treat her like her father did. Unfortunately, we have all seen women who ended being attracted to precisely the kind of men they experienced as young girls. I shudder to think what kind of life choices she will make due to her young training. I suspect that if she shows up for his funeral, it will be to make sure that this moron, who made her life miserable, is finally in the ground.

But I have to be careful. I have a little of this guy in me. We have too many friends that imploded later in life due to insecurities buried deep in their souls as little girls or little boys, insecurities that sat like a ticking time bomb. When it exploded later, the shrapnel hit their husbands and kids and friends, and the ticking was so quiet no one heard it. The shattering explosion they heard and felt, but not the impending nuclear event. So I have to wonder what I have buried deep within my kids. Did my training set them up to fail? Will they be able to handle the disappointments without destroying themselves or those around them? I may never know, because sometimes the timer is set to go off when the culprit who set the bomb permanently leaves the scene. BOOM! Where did that come from?!??

Yes, indeed, we teach our children well. But character traits like honesty, integrity, compassion, mercy, and humility are more caught than taught. We live what we believe. Teach your kids this, and the rest will work out.

My bride came across a great quote that reminds me that as my kids approach middle age, my job is not done.."When teaching your son, you are teaching your son's son." Chilling.

Godspeed to all of us out there who still have some teaching to do.
Don

Tuesday, July 21, 2009

Living Plan B

There are times when we hear something that seems to stop the world for a moment. Phrases or words that seem to either reorient us into our story, or define the story in a way that causes us to stop and reflect on the profound import of our lives.

These can be words that define a nation, We the People...Ask not what your country can for you...I have a dream. All have shaped us as a culture, the DNA of these words change who we are and how we view our world, our hope, our past and our future.
Or the words can be personal. words that change the scope of our future..I do...I promise...I will never...I never thought...

Somewhere early in our journey we develop a picture in our heads of how this life will look. The house will always be clean and full of fun people, the car will always start, the boss will continue to heap praise, Sleeping Beauty will always wake up pretty and compassionate, the kids will grow up to be strong and confident and will always come home to visit.

My bride was talking to one of our kids about the disillusionment they are experiencing, about some decisions they are making that are heartbreaking for them and for us. And my bride in her quiet, understated, attention averse way said, "We all live plan B" In an instant my bride summed up in 5 words a truism of our existence. We truly live Plan B. These few words sum up all the failed promises, the broken dreams, the illusions shattered by reality. Somewhere along the way we discover that the picture in our heads is nothing more than an illusion. We compare our reality with a myth, and walk away disappointed.

We have found that parents get sick and die. We have found that bosses treat us poorly. We have found that sickness and heartache tracks our kids down and attacks without compunction or mercy. We have found that religious leaders treat us as commodities and not community. We have found that the greatest disappointments are those we find in ourselves. We have found that the answer to prayer can be painful silence. No, indeed, this was not Plan A.

It is a temptation to look around and feel that everyone else is living Plan A, which only deepens our disillusionment. Others have it all together. And so we compare the illusion of their Plan A to our mundane Plan B, and we lose hope, we lose faith, we lose joy- with ourselves and those close to us.

But I look at the old book and realize that a mere two chapters are spent on Plan A. I realize that the mission is spelled out in Plan B. It is in this story that I realize that Plan A is imaginary, but Plan B is lived! Plan B is carried out with sacrifice and passion, with suffering and joy, with loss and victory. Then I begin to take inventory of what Plan B has brought me. Compassion for those suffering loss of a child, sympathy for those who lost a mate, value of friends sustained through the years, satisfaction with an existence of life making and love making, and finally a sense of significance through the mission of one who better understood the value of Plan B, even at great price.

The grandeur is in the embracing of our Plan B life.

So for those who are lamenting the missed opportunity of Plan A, embrace Plan B. Plan A is imagined...Plan B is lived.

Godspeed
Don

Tuesday, July 14, 2009

Sleepless In Seattle

Traveling has always held a certain fascination for me. It may, in part, be because my folks rarely traveled. I remember the one big vacation of my childhood was to Six flags over Texas and being at that odd age where I was either too small or too tall to ride the rides. I remember my mom telling my dad, "we have to find something for him to ride, everyone else has ridden a ride." This was back when Six Flags had the stagecoach ride (with real horses) and bison grazing in a pen. My most vivid memory of this trip was the swimming pool at the Holiday Inn. When you are accustomed to a muddy creek, probably only 20' wide, then the pool seemed as big as a football field. Of course I got water in my ear, which caused an infection...well, it was fun at the time.

There is something in my nature that gets very restless with the routine. The Meyers-Brigs folks peg me at ENFP...strongly each area. Which means that about the time everyone is settling in and beginning to enjoy the event, I'm wondering, What's next? Are we through here yet? Let's move this party along! My bride does not find this aspect of my nature as endearing as you would imagine. But she has a little of this in her as well. We bought a new house a few years ago and it wasn't 15 minutes before she is making a list of things she wanted to change, new paint color, new door knobs, new faucets, on and on. this is the a slightly different version of my nature. And, by the way, I don't find that as endearing as you would imagine. I would rather gather a fun group and go on a road trip!

But I have the perfect work situation for me. travel all over the USA, either selling or mediating problems, move on to the next stop. This week is Seattle, then Phoenix, then City of Angels, then home late Thursday night. Conflicts to be resolved, sales to be boosted, reps to be managed, then out again, before the dust can settle, on to the next event.

The two major drawbacks for me at this stage in life are: 1. Sleep, it is almost impossible to get a good nights sleep in different time zones, traveling late at night, up early (thanks mom and dad for drilling that in early) and 2. Finding rest for a body that travel beats up. I'm finding that every once in while, as much as I resist the notion, the body has to rest. Muscles and brain and probably spirit need a moment to stop and reflect and just gear down.

So here I am in Seattle, got in late, slept poorly, ready for the battle. I am Starbucks enforced, prayer fortified, ready for the day.

Godspeed to all those who slept in, I'm a little jealous, but not much.
Don

Wednesday, July 8, 2009

Have It Your Way

This past week I had a short, one-day business to trip to Tampa. It was just a quick, in and out, show the product, jump back on the plane, head home. So when I landed, i decided to take taxi to the appointment. That way I don't have to rent a car, get directions,figure enough time to return it, catch my flight. It seemed much easier and more efficient, and probably would cost less.

So I wheeled my sample bag and roller briefcase to the cab stand, told the guy where I was going, gave him the address. He informed me that the location was pretty close to the airport and there would be a $15 minimum charge, no problem, I'm still ahead.
The taxi pulls up, I throw my stuff in and pile in behind it. I absentmindedly gave the address to the taxi driver, who sounded like those guys in the commercials for Jamaica, and settled back.

In a heavy accent, and what sounded a little brusque to me,
"What's the best way to get there?"
I'm stumped and just little taken aback. I don't know, I've been there, but I can't tell you where it is. "Umm, it's about 5-10 minutes from the airport." Stupid answer I know, but I felt intimidated, almost speechless, and a little panicky. I don't know where I'm going. I've ridden in taxis all over the US and other countries, New York, Chicago, Lisbon, City of Angels, I have never been asked the best way to get there!

Then I developed a little bit of attitude (I know, shocking) In my head I was screaming, "Dude! it's your JOB to know the best way to get there!" I pay you money to know, not ask me. "I don't know where it is, but I need to be there in 10 minutes." Then I noticed a well-worn Mapsco (early low-tech version of a GPS, actual map with pages and everything) But the driver insisted on calling the home office, apparently to complain about the lack of quality fares coming from the airport. When the home office was no help, he then reluctantly pulled a GPS from the glove box and looked it up!
We were two turns and about 4 blocks away.

It occurred to me that this infatuation with customization had gone way too far. I think corporate America needs to go back to the basics, make a product or service, market said product or service, and deliver said product or service. I go to specific restaurants because I like the way THEY fix it, not fix it to my personal tastes. Yes it is a risk, but that is what life is all about, coming up with the right product, at the right time, and having everyone jump on your bandwagon.
His tip was unexceptional, but, dang it, his service left me a wreck going into an important meeting.

I don't want to have it my way. Fix it your way, and if I like it, I will come back. The last thing the world needs is life customized around one old coot.

Keep your mapsco's handy, apparently we are going to need them.
Godspeed,
Don

Saturday, July 4, 2009

Quiet Time

My favorite time of the day is just before the sun comes up. Today, as I write these words, the house is cool and quiet, my bride is still snuggled in sleeping as one with no hurry or plans. The entire universe seems to be resting, recovering from anther hot, Texas, summer day. It promises to be another hot one, but this morning, this July 4th morning, it is so calm, so...nice.

My thoughts and ideas that seem to swirl woke me this morning, but the cool Texas morning, the hot mug of coffee have diverted me, at least momentarily from the constant churning activity in my head.

My curiosity about things spiritual make me wonder if the Jewish carpenter turned rabbi would enjoy this morning. He was a spiritualist, he liked the moments of quiet reflection with his Father, and his thoughts. Do we share this moment of quiet contemplation? For the moment do we let the cares of ministry, and sectarianism, of self-centeredness, of pride, of planning and organizing, of chaos and confusion simply be set aside, and a moment with the Father be enough? Can our natures be at peace with what I prefer to call "wasting time with God"? Even now, as I try to express what this means to me, the mundane is creeping in. Lawn mowing, breakfast to be cooked, gathering up for the holiday and the all the events, all conspire to end this moment. But there is a slice or remnant of "peace" that will find a place in my spirit. It snuggles in close to my heart and reminds me that, just as I cherish the moments of snuggling with my children and grand-children, so the Father enjoys our moments of nearness to Him.

Godspeed today.
Thanks for the moment, Father.
Don