My 3 Words for 2014 - A Year In Review

‎"Education is an admirable thing, but it is well to remember from time to time that

nothing that is worth knowing can be taught," - Oscar Wilde.

2014 will soon be a memory.  As has become my custom, early in 2015 I will publish the three words that will serve as my guideposts for the year. Choosing the words for the year has taken a different form each time I’ve completed this exercise, and this year will likely see yet another refinement of the process. Though it was not a stated or even consciously recognized goal of this list, I spent a lot of time in deep reflection this year which I found quite helpful.  You introverts, might be on to something.

Lessons Learned from My 3 words for 2014

1.  Breathe – Somewhere along the way I remembered how to breathe again.  I’m not sure where or when it happened, but at some point this year the drowning sensation stopped. I spent more time in silence than ever before in my life.  In my daily life, in conversations (listening more intently) and at a dedicated 5 day silent retreat – my breathe became more natural.  I continued my practice of Aikido, an art where breath power and ki breathing are central to the practice.  My fuse, which had been so shortened, began to find length again. 

2.  Climb – Of all my words this one took the longest to realize any progress.  Perhaps more to the point, I had the greatest physical difficulty with this concept.  It’s only in the past few months that I’ve been able to acknowledge that I’ve made any movement in this area at all.  In many ways, this word is tied closely to my expression of Breathe (above).  I still get caught up in the hyper-focused tunnel vision that causes us to miss opportunities.  This year, however, I’ve been able to force myself to take time to appreciate being in the moment.  These metaphoric (and not so metaphoric) vistas have been truly amazing stops along the way and provided much needed inspiration throughout the year.

3.  Flow – Developing a mind of compassion, as our Buddhist friends would say, has been fundamental to my ability to embrace flow. Following the events of 2012 and early 2013 I was hurt, angry, and determined to never be “a sucker” again.  Likely at the time I couldn’t see that I’d become difficult to be around, grumpy, and in pain.  Not very pleasant, I’m sure. Re-learning to enter the flow life and to fully embrace compassion (toward others and myself) brought me out of a very sad, lonely, dark place.  This practice, inspired by prayer, reading, meditation, spiritual direction, Aikido and the counsel of friends and family – helped me get back on track. 

These words didn’t solve all my problems, or any of my problems for that matter, but they gave me a framework with which to process life over the past year. Whatever it is I've learned thus far, I couldn't find in a book, training video, or seminar.  It had to be lived to be learned.  That said...

It’s been a pretty good year!

Now it’s time to choose the words for what is to come.  Events are already set in motion to give flavor to what is ahead, but these three words and the associated attitude will shape the lens through which I view the world for another year.     

Next post, My 3 Words for 2015.

Post Script:  In addition to my 3 words for 2014 I had some goals for the year.

Writing: Write 52 Short Stories by Dec. 31^st 2014.  – THIS DID NOT HAPPEN.  I wrote about 10 stories this year, yet none of them are ready to submit for publication

Fitness: Return to my 2011 goal weight by Dec. 31^st 2014. – I made progress, but did not make it by December 31^st.  I am currently 10.6 lbs from the goal.

ORIGINS – Author/blogger Mitch Joel at “Six Pixels of Separation” turned me onto Chris Brogan’s practice of identifying “3 Words” for the year.  These three words then serve as motivation and guidelines for all that you do during the year.  Brogan, explains it like this, “In an effort to tell bigger stories, I've found that the concept of three words allows me to think in more dimensions about what I want to do with my life and it lets me apply lots of tangible goals instead of what most people do when they focus on just a finite task.”

See my 3 Words for 2013

Chris Brogan: http://www.chrisbrogan.com/my-3-words-for-2013/

Mitch Joel   http://www.twistimage.com/blog/archives/my-3-words-for-2013/?utm_source=feedburner&utm_medium=email&utm_campaign=Feed%3A+TwistImage+%28Six+Pixels+of+Separation+-+Marketing+and+Communications+Insights+Blog+-+Mitch+Joel+-+Twist+Image%29

Fallen Angels & Living Saints

We often hear about limitations and pain… of corruptions and the sins that drive them.  “Turn on the news and what do I see, a whole lot of people crying don’t blame me.”  Nothing sells newspapers and boosts ratings like stories about sinners and saints.  Especially when the darlings of our public persecution stumble, trip and fall flat on their face.

Celebrity addiction, Hollywood domestic disturbance, and the rattle of skeletons in famous closets are rarely in short supply.  Even when a person seems to be destined for greatness the fall can come.  Remember Lance? One day a pillar of athletic integrity and a testament to overcoming adversity, the next day a liar.  Shame. 

We encounter fallen angels in less grandiose theaters as well: in the face of the once promising professional who chose to drink away career and family; in the shattered pieces of the workaholics home where spouses and children simply co-habitat the same space forgoing any sense of unity; in the wake of those who compromise anything in order to win. 

Nothing stirs the heart of America like the story of overcoming adversity, but that same heart turns a sour shade of scornful when our heroes fall. 

And it would seem that even the angles fall… hard.

We forget that it is in the fall that we can be raised up again.

No one is perfect, and we know this because, saints walk amongst us.

In the last week, two wonderful women (Eleanor and Helen) passed from this life to the next.   These were not tired old ladies.  No, they were classy, feisty, and both flirting with their 100^th birthdays. 

Both had lived through the Second World War, raised families, suffered disappointments, faced hardships, and went out of their way to make sure that those around them felt love.   Both Eleanor and Helen held a special place in my heart and in the pantheon of my many Grandmas.  These ladies, my two biological grandmas, Helen, Eleanor, and several others, taught me how to become a person of character, by the way they lived.

They didn’t give up.

They didn’t give in.

They didn’t have time for self-pity.

They were about God’s work… looking out for people be they family of birth or marriage, adopted family (like me), or just those who may be in need (whether they know it or not).  All of them outlived their husbands, all of them buried their parents and siblings, many buried some of their own children – yet they found reasons to smile and laugh and love and live. 

None of my Grandmas were perfect, far from it.  Some of them might even go so far as to admit that they were spectacularly imperfect, and after each fall they rose to be saints once more. 

You may not know any of my grandmas, but I bet you’ve met them.  In the faces of the ladies at church, or the nurse who helps you at the ER in place of your own mother, or the kind person at the store who smiles for no reason at all – all of our grandmas are there. 

Living saints do walk amongst us, and it’s time for us to stop a while and appreciate the time we’ve had with them. 

This post is dedicated to my Grandmas:

Mary Catherine

Dolores

Lillian

Helen

Eleanor

Naomi

Rose

Marge

And to your Grandmas, whoever and wherever they be.

Standing Up and Living with Fall Out

“Have you ever felt the odds stacked up so high, you need a strength most don’t posses?”  There is a certain right of passage when an individual takes a stand for something in which they believe strongly.  Whether political, social, or personal it takes guts to stand up and say, “no more.” 

No, I won’t tolerate this proposed legislative agenda.

No, I won’t allow you to drive home drunk. 

No, the way your are treating me is unacceptable. 

The first challenge is standing up for what’s right.  To make a stand, we must be honest with ourselves.  We must overcome the powers of denial so ingrained in our subconscious and admit when actions and inactions are no longer acceptable.  This is especially challenging if it means drawing some lines in the sand for yourself, your kids, and in opposition to those we may respect and love.  The question then becomes where is that line between unpleasant and intolerable.    

“Every once in a while…every once in a while there’s a day with an absolute right and an absolute wrong, but those days almost always include body counts.  Other than that, there aren’t very many un-nuanced moments…”  President Josiah Bartlet, The West Wing 2002. 

There’s a lot of gray area when taking a principled stand so the weasels of self-doubt have ample room to play – scurrying in and out of our mind gnawing at our resolve.   The absolutes we crave, the situations we read about in fiction or pine for on the silver screen, are rare.  Bad guys don’t always wear black or have ominous theme music play when they enter a room.  Unfortunately, most of the important stands one makes in life involve opposing the people we care about, respect, and love.

'There are all kinds of courage,' said Dumbledore, smiling. 'It takes a great deal of bravery to stand up to our enemies, but just as much to stand up to our friends. I therefore award ten points to Mr Neville Longbottom.'  Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone.

Standing up in the face of an enemy can leave one with a sense of heroic pride, but when that opposition is one whom we value as a mentor, friend, or significant other an entirely new set of emotions take hold.  In a healthy relationship discourse can facilitate understanding and reconciliation after such confrontations.  Just as often, however, standing up risks alienation and damage to the relationship. 

If taking the stand is the first hurdle, living with it is the second.  The right path is often not the easy path, so this is where our resolve is really tested. Moving forward in the wake of serious disagreement is difficult even if all parties reconcile their differences.  When one or both parties resign themselves to dissolve the relationship or reduce the association to a less perfect union feelings of betrayal and loss abound.  All the guts in the world do not cause our losses, disappointments, and failures to go gentle into that good night.  We carry them with us, even after the initial trauma is addressed

“I follow four dictates: face it, accept it, deal with it, then let it go."
~Sheng Yen

Letting go is the hardest part for me.  Part of me wants to find ways to reconcile.  Part of me wants to “be right” and “win” – whatever the hell that means.  But the larger part gets stuck trying figuring out what I did to lose control of the situation. 

Letting go is admitting mistakes.  Letting go is living with past actions, in-action, and miscalculations.  Letting go doesn’t mean forgetting what happened, it means forgiving ourselves for not being perfect and moving on.  In letting go, we dare to step up to the line and do mighty things once more. 

This post is the 3rd installment of a three part series.  See the 1st and 2nd segments here: Dare Mighty Things and 5 Stages of Grief, Plus 1

“Have you ever felt the odds stacked up so high, you need a strength most don’t posses? … I’m not a coward, I’ve just never been tested.  I’d like to think that if I was, I would pass.”  The Impression That I Get, The Mighty Mighty Bosstones  

5 Stages of Grief, Plus 1

This post is the 2^nd installment of a three part series.  See the 1^st segment here: Dare Mighty Things.  Look for the 3^rd and final segment Standing Up and Living with the Fall Out. 

A young friend recently went through an abrupt and painful breakup.  Knowing my recent relationship history, we spent some time talking about the sense of loss and grief that comes from such a parting of ways.  There really is a kind of mourning that takes place in the wake of a damaged relationship (plutonic, romantic or otherwise). 

In some cases the people involved in the relationship change.  In others true colors come to the surface either over time or in the face of stress.  From time to time there is no single reason at all, and relationships end. 

Often times you miss the other person.  Even if you know (intellectually) that you are better off without XYZ – name the behavior, tendency, addiction, vice, stressor – in your life.  We yearn for the “old days” or the “good times,” even if those days are over or they were never that great in the first place.  We are, after all human and divorce, breakups, and failed friendships signal change, which is sad and scary.  So we grieve.

When dealing with grief many articulate the experience within the context of the Kubler-Ross Model or more commonly, the five stages of grief: denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance.     

I’m no expert in psychology or human development, but I pay attention to people.  From my observation and personal experience the five stages are fairly universal for those who suffer loss.  We also know that the model is cyclical with certain phases repeating.  (I had a hard time getting sucked back to the anger stage.)  Recently, I’ve come to think that there should be a 6^th stage – denial, anger, bargaining, depression, acceptance….and singing! 

Maybe it’s my extroverted nature, tendency to perform, or just my Irish-side flaring up, but sometimes there’s nothing left to do but sing.   Sometimes the songs are sad but a funny/bawdy song can help flush stagnant emotions from the soul just as well.  It’s not about being mean, vengeful, or “getting back” at the ones who hurt us by their parting – rather singing helps us face, accept, and deal with trauma, while jumpstarting the process of letting go.  In other words, singing can help us heal. 

In that richest of traditions of troubadours and tavern singers I close with a song – dedicated to all our Ex-es.  To all those who have chosen the company of others over our specific company – let us celebrate our Jubilation Day.  We’re probably better off anyway.

Steve Martin and the Steep Canyon Rangers

“Jubilation Day” from the album Rare Bird Alert

Check out the rest of the album at http://www.steepcanyon.com

Grateful Acceptance: 3 Words for 2013 Check-In

Today we give thanks.  This does not mean that we are not thankful on other days of the year, but this day in our American culture we pause and reflect with a grateful heart. 

This year I am thankful for a number of things that previously I, like many, would have categorized as “little things.”  I am thankful for the ability to walk. I am thankful for warm boots in the snow, and a car that starts every morning (though I likely just jinxed myself by writing that).  I am thankful for the ability to see my book to have mobility in my fingers to be able to hold it. 

AND…

I am thankful for the kindness of strangers and for good friends who tell you want you need to hear even when it is hard.  I am thankful to be surrounded by people who love me (including my idiosyncrasies, not despite them).  There is a lot for which we can be thankful. 

This year also has taught me the important lessons of impermanence.  The Buddhist monks teach that all existence is in a state of motion or flux, and this sentiment is echoed in the Judeo-Christian experience as well in the pursuit of a union with God.

Good jobs come to an end.  Friends move across country.  Highly functioning teams break up.  The aged, the ill, and the unlucky pass away.  Children lose touch with parents.  Siblings fight.  Spouses grow apart.  People change.

There are a lot of reasons why people come and go from our lives, and more often than not those departures are painful.  Lately, I’ve tried hard to focus on the value that comes from having people in our lives, no matter for how long.  I’m calling this exercise Grateful Acceptance.  It’s about the framework, like remembering college friends I haven’t spoken with in a decade; or reflecting on kids I tutored while in AmeriCorps; or thinking about the kid who beat me up in middle school; or the guy I passed on the street…

“All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given us.”
― J.R.R. Tolkien, The Fellowship of the Ring            

I remember a morning while I was in high school; my dad and I were up running errands early on a Saturday morning.  Between stops we headed into a restaurant for breakfast.  On the way in a homeless man asked if we could spare some money so he could get something to eat.  Without missing a beat my dad said, “No, but if you would like to come in and eat with us I’ll buy your breakfast.”  I’m not sure who was more surprised the stranger or me.  And that’s what we did, on a random day in 1995. 

That day had a profound impact on my life.  It opened the door for one of the most important conversations I’ve ever had with my dad.  It allowed me to see, first hand, the lesson that “we never know how much of an impact the little things we do will have on people.”  It allowed me to see love in action.  

So today, I am thankful for those who have shown great love through small acts of service.   I am grateful for all of the people who are and have been a part of my life, because every one has helped me become the man I am today. 

And for that, I am truly thankful. 

http://catholicgentleman.net

9 Months Ago, I Couldn't Walk

9 months ago I couldn’t walk.  My ankle was shattered and I was awaiting the first of my two surgeries to put it back together. 

Today, I ran up three flights of stairs to get from the basement to my office. 

9 months ago, I was married, but in a relationship that was destructive, unhealthy and in which neither party was very happy.

Today, I am divorced, but I’m seeing a woman who has restored my faith that people are as kind, loving and understanding as I know they can be. 

 9 months ago, my family was a group of people I loved very much, and saw as often as possible. 

Today, my family is still my family.  But I realize now, that without their love and support, I might not be here.  (Literally, in one sense, as my parents and youngest sister were the ones that found me in the back yard when I broke my ankle.)  On another level they have been the backbone of support during my physical and emotional recovery. 

It’s no secret that over the past 9 months I’ve been hurt, angry and frustrated over what has happened.  No one looks forward to a major injury or a divorce or any type of traumatic event – yet we all suffer.   Like most who known deep pain it’s easy to get sucked into focusing on the dark side of events.  [Change, fear, betrayal, misfortune, misery, self-pity, self-loathing, guilt, shame, just to name a few.]

In addition to those feelings of pain and suffering, I have also known tremendous gratitude and humility as I’ve been able to rely on my parents, brothers, sisters (including sisters-in-laws), as well as busloads of extended family, adopted family, and friends both old and new. 

In a recent blog post on The Art of Manliness, Brett and Kate McKay speak of the importance of a family culture.  I couldn’t agree more.  My parents built our family into a team, a unit, a group that – even though we don’t all agree with each other all the time – have each other’s back without fail.  The McKay’s identified three pillars of creating a family culture: 1.) Values, 2.) Norms, and 3.) Rituals / Traditions.  I can see each of these elements in my own family growing up.  It is those value, norms, and traditions that have helped me through the most difficult times over the past year. 

General George Patton said that, “No man is unafraid in battle, but discipline produces in him a form of vicarious courage.” 

Life has felt like a battlefield over the past 9 months (longer if I’m totally honest with myself) and it has been the discipline I learned in my parents’ household, which has allowed me to stand resolute and continue on.  At my core, I know who and what I am, which itself is a direct product of how I grew up.  Even when we are shaken to that core by forces beyond our control, the core does not crack.

9 months ago, life seemed pretty up in the air and terrifying.

Today, life still seems up in the air, but I am grounded and encouraged every day by the fundamentals that remain true:  People are genuinely good.   With the support of family and friends you can survive anything.  Whatever doesn't kill you, has to make you stronger (if it didn't make you stronger you'd be dead).  

It may sound morbid, to end on this note, but I hope you can see that there is hope here.  A hope that has been somewhat absent for quite a while, but has finally found it's way home.

This post is dedicated to my parents, brothers and sisters.  I really couldn't have made it this far without you.  Thanks. 

Blue Monday: The Soundtrack of Our Lives

One of the unexpected developments during my two tours in Charleston was a new found love of live music – especially the Blues.   From 2003-2005 I lived in a city with nightlife for the first time in my life.  This was also my first real exposure to live music at every turn.  Charleston is a great city for performers and artists.  Great music is tucked into the nooks and crannies that pepper King, Queen, Market, and High Street.   Cover bands, jazz, rock, reggae, country, and the Blues provided an eclectic soundtrack for my two years in Chuck-town. 

My favorite club, however, was Mama’s Blues Palace on John Street.  The house band Mama & the Misfits was the lovechild of a pair of retired schoolteachers.  Mama and Papa Dupree, their son Jo-Jo, and a group of some of the most talented artists I’ve ever heard blew the roof off that club every weekend.  My friends and I made it a point to check out the show at Mama’s as often as we could. 

It was in that dingy little blues bar on John Street, where we met Del Rae, a jazz singer, piano player, and composer.   Del, who famously hated Stevie Wonder for beating her out for ‘song of the year’ at some point in the late 70’s, was standing the warm up act.  Well into her 80’s by the time we met her, she warmed up the house for an hour every Thursday thru Saturday. 

After her set she’d visit with us early birds and let us buy her a drink.  She was a great old lady.  She was one classy lady (unless you got her talking about Stevie Wonder).  Over the course of our visits, Del taught us that music had to come from the soul, and as long as you had music you could live a long and happy life. 

Mama’s Blues Palace closed in 2004, while I was home for a visit so I missed the last show.  The Misfits broke up, and Mama only rarely played during the last year of my assignment in Charleston.  I am happy to report though, that Mama, Papa Dupree and Jojo are back performing in the clubs of South Carolina under the new name of Mama & The Redemption Band. 

There is an impermanence of life that forces us or allows us to change, adapt and evolve – that’s true in the Blues as well.  No one sings about being blue, always being blue, and staying blue forever.  The Blues are about transitions.  Times were good, now they’re not.  Times are bad, but tomorrow will be better.  I’m suffering, but I have my guitar so it could be worse.   That’s why we come back to the blues, because we are always in transition.   Riding the wild rollercoaster of life, and jamming the entire way.  

Mama and The Redemption Band (formerly Mama & The Misfits)




***NOTE:  I have not had much luck finding any of Del Rae's music (at least not the Del we met).  If anyone is able to point me in the right direction to songs either written or recorded by Del, I would be most grateful.  We have her picture and an autograph -- but I'd like to hear her sing again.  Thanks, NTS.

Gut Check: Writing Straight with Crooked Lines

(Note:  I’ll continue on with the Blue Monday series later, but this post seemed more timely.)

As I mentioned in my first post of 2013, words only have power if they inspire actions – and I include new ways of thinking as an action.  One of my 3 words for 2013 was guts, and it’s the word that has been most on my mind recently.  2012 presented a few more challenges than perhaps anyone had anticipated, but the darkness of struggle and suffering is the most fertile ground for seeds of hope to take root. 

Some years ago I heard a quote while on retreat that has become a mantra of sorts for me this past year.  I believe the author is Thomas Merton, and it is simply this: “God writes straight with crooked lines.”  This simple phrase has taken new meaning at various stages over the past year.  Each time it seems that I’ve arrived at a new understanding something unexpected brings me to a deeper appreciation of the sentiment. 

From my perspective, this phrase embodies the idea of guts.  Faith takes courage.  If we are to have faith in God, in life, in ourselves, and each other we must have the guts to live.  We must acknowledge that life happens, and events unfold that are out of our immediate control.  Then the idea that we cannot always see around the corners on our path (the crooked lines) becomes easier to accept.  Once we accept that there are twists and turns in our road, it becomes a little bit easier to understand that despite our fears there is forward motion. 

That’s why life is about the journey.  That’s why life is a process to be experienced.  It is through that process, as Bruce Lee explains, that we learn and grow.  “Since life is an ever-evolving process, one should flow in this process and discover how to actualize and expand oneself.”  And that’s the point - growth.

Real growth takes guts. 

Guts to take risks.

Guts to have faith.

Guts to act despite our fears.

When we have the guts to live, we become open to good things, unexpected things – and there we often find joy. 

As Lent comes to an end; as we move forward along our path; as we encounter new people and experiences – let us all recommit to having the guts to live our lives, to have faith in the goodness of one another, and appreciate the crooked lines.

Carolina On My Mind

This is not a post about James Taylor.  This is a post about Thursday.  In the AmeriCorps*NCCC world it’s Team Leader Thursday.  Normally I wouldn’t devote an entire blog post something I got from a Facebook post, but today it stuck with me.  

I had a great Team Leader (TL).  Jen Karmels built our team around the values of patience, flexibility, and a healthy sense of humor.  But it was her presence that helped us become a highly functional and cohesive unit.  When we suffered, she suffered.  When we need a friend, a mentor, a ride to the doctor or a swift kick to get us back on track, Jen was right there.  Even these many years later and miles apart Jen remains a presence in our lives. 

Author, poet and Buddhist Monk, Thich Nhat Hanh says that, “the most precious gift we can offer others is our presence.”  In this world of overburdened attention spans, jam packed schedules, and an addictive tendency to try and do everything – we loose sight of this profound truth. 

Earlier this morning I learned that my teammate Rosa’s sister passed away last weekend.  I cannot imagine the sense of loss that their family must be going through.  But I know Rosa, and her parents.  I know that in the days and weeks to come they will be reflecting on the good times they had with Ana.  In this context presence takes on an entirely new meaning and perhaps urgency. 

Presence is one of my 3 words for 2013, but being present is a practice that can be beneficial to all.  So on this Thursday, let us take a moment to be present to one another.  Hug your kids, spend time with your family, call a friend who you’ve been meaning to talk to for a while, take a risk and offer a kind word to a stranger.   But do something to reach out.  In the end, it’s those moments in which we are present for one another that stay with us.  

"Today is a gift, that's why it's called the present" Master Oogway

http://youtu.be/Znnj1oFxCR

My thoughts and prayers go out to Rosa, Ana and the entire Strandemo family.

Nun of Your Business

This afternoon NPR aired a piece by Heidi Glenn called Losing Our Religion: the Growth of the‘Nones.’  The long and short of the piece is that more American’s are choosing to not identify with one of the major established organized religions.   My first reaction after reading the piece was, “duh!”  Followed closely, by the urge to bury any fledgling ideas for this post in the shed out back and forget about it. 

However, one of my words for 2013 is guts, and we’re all going to need some to have this conversation.  Because that’s what I am convinced the Pew Study is referencing, a national (and perhaps worldwide) conversation that involves the entire human family. 

“Religion is like a knife: you can either use it to cut bread, or stick in someone's back.”   Desmond Tutu

There is a bad taste in people’s mouth regarding religion. Leaders of various organized religious groups turn out to be corrupt, dishonest, selfish, dangerous, or worse and people lose faith.  Too often religion is used for cutting down our opponents, rather than providing a common ground for dialogue.  But religion is the human institution, made up of human beings, and therefore subject to human flaws and shortcomings.  

As one who is an active member of a traditional organized religion, I struggle when church scandals take place.  I am saddened and frustrated when religious leaders make statements, which I believe are counter to the accepting and forgiving spirit of the faith.  For these concerns there are internal dialogues, which must be held to enact changes here too, but that’s a topic for another post. 

Please understand, that I’m not encouraging or justifying why more people are walking away from religion.  I believe that faith is a fundamental element for wholeness and provides unique gifts and insights into the world.  But in order to start talking about solutions, we must identify some of the problems.  After reading the NPR article and the Pew Research, there are a couple of pieces that the authors missed. 

People are tired.  It’s been my experience that people are just tired of the perceived judgment that comes along with most religion.  Whether from official leadership or zealots down the pew, most Westerners are done with petty judgments.  And I can't say that I blame anyone who has reached this point.  

Religions change at a glacial pace.  Most major religions are struggling to meet people where they are.  Many groups try to apply old models to a new generation of people who are used to a user-centered instant update approach.  When they don’t find what they want, people walk.  This attitude is not all that dissimilar to the “lack of customer loyalty” cited in business discussions.    This capitalism of religion means that if a religion says something I don’t like then I’ll go across the street to someone else.

People don’t need religion to function in society.  The role of religion as a functional element of daily life has diminished.  1,000 years ago your religion determined your worldview, but it also had strong influence on where you lived, what profession you held, when you worked, who you did business with, and served as a persons fundamental social and cultural identity.  The rise of nationalism brought competition with religion for our loyalty, but even then religion maintained influence.  100 years ago a person’s religious affiliation determined an individual’s place in the community and their social circles.  Today, to many, religion is a checkbox on a form, a line on the online bio, and a place you go for an hour a week.   The schism between religion and secular aspects of our life is so complete that a person can function without religion and notice very little societal impact.

Religion, for all it's faults is not the faith.  Religion is not the spirit of the movement.   

Religion can (and often does) serve as the embodiment of the ideas of a faith tradition.  When members of the Red Crescent or Magen David Adom bring relief to those in greatest need - religion becomes the hand of God.  When Nuns, Brothers, Priests and ministers bring reconciliation, comfort, and healing into prisons and communities who have known violence - religion becomes the face of God.  When groups from churches, temples, mosques, and synagogues reach out to the surrounding neighborhood to build community - religion becomes the family of God.  

I think that if we all exercised a little more compassion and understanding, that the major religions would have an easier time connecting with people.  All across the board, we can all get a little better about meeting people where they are.  And if we do that, we may just start seeing some progress.     

This post really doesn’t answer the big questions, but I hope it starts or continues or in some way benefits the conversation.  

“I really feel that some people neglect and overlook compassion because they associate it with religion. Of course, everyone is free to choose whether they pay religion any regard, but to neglect compassion is a mistake because it is the source of our own well-being.”  The Dalai Lama                  

(Come on, you know I had to do it)

2012 in Review: The Fate of Hope

Last New Year's Eve, I wrote a post called 2012: A Year of Hope, and as the year comes to an end it’s time to take stock of where we are.

Hope is a funny thing.  It seems to shine the brightest when we can see and feel nothing but darkness.  

This year, December 14th became a day that will stand out for many.  From some it will forever be the anniversary of great tragedy and loss.  The tremendous amount of pain and senseless suffering associated with the Sandy Brook Elementary school shooting will remain a scar on our national psyche for many years to come.  In the wake of this massacre it might be easy to believe that darkness has won. 

But just hours after the tragic events of the shootings in Newtown, Connecticut, two friends welcomed theirdaughter into the world.  Two people who are kind and generous and loving experienced, in an instant, their family, their love, their joy expand beyond comprehension. 

And so, hope enters the world.

If we widen the scope, 2012 has not been an easy year by any account.  There is plenty to be upset about.  Our hurts seem to have multiplied.  We are weary from extreme acts of senseless violence and a nasty campaign season.  We are bitter from loss at the hands of hurricane Sandy and our in ability to recover fast enough.  We are heartbroken, as good people who want to work remain unemployed or under-employed.   We are plugged in, but seem to be farther from the people in our lives.  We are surrounded by information and entertainment, and often feel isolated, alone, and bored.

And yet, we are still here. 

AmeriCorps members, National Guard, and many others are still serving in the aftermath of Sandy. Teachers, parents, administrators, and local law enforcement across the country are working like never before to keep our kids safe.  Children are being born, and growing up, and being loved by their families.  People everywhere are starting to talk about being tired of the anger and violence that seems to be everywhere.  Many of us are lucky to have family and friends close at hand, which is a bigger blessing than we regularly acknowledge.  

Despite the frustration and pain, the disappointment and loss – the great experiment continues.  

Like the phoenix hope often seems to rise out of the ashes of disappointment, sorrow and suffering.  St. Augustine believed this when he penned the lines: “Hope has two beautiful daughters. Their names are Anger and Courage; anger at the way things are, and courage to see that they do not remain the way they are.”

This year may not have turned out like any of us expected, but if we embrace anger towards that which is wrong in the world and the courage to become an agent of change, then we will get things done in 2013.  

Thus, hope lives on.