Pain and Me

One day in class, a professor asked me, "What motivates you, Chris?"
And out of my mouth jumped the statement, "Lack of pain."

Of course this is a very simplistic statement reflecting a very simple thought process.  Who wants pain?  We all shy away from that.  But truth is, we make our greatest strides forward when we confront pain.  I think we are most successful when we face pain with a plan, a goal and a resolve.  We can't fix all pain, but we can face it and deal with it for what it is.

Pain tells us there is something wrong.  It is a call for action.  Sometimes it is a call to confront the fault inside us that is dragging us down.  We remove the splinter in our finger; we wash and care for a wound we have. We vow never to drink so much ever again the morning after.

Like the alcoholic who fights with his addiction to stay sober, so too must we fight our pain.  We must find the cause of our pain and then make a plan to fix it.  We must probe until we find the cause of the problem, then we must figure out a solution, form a plan and go after the pain.

Some pain lasts a lifetime.  Some plans to confront pain take a lifetime to formulate and execute.  (Let me tell you a little secret I learned volunteering at Hospice.  People often, very often, die in pain.  (Yes, even with the greatest cocktail of drugs available.))  I know you didn't want to hear that, but I think you and I should be aware of this.

Very often in life, we must fight and endure the pain of change, the uncomfortableness of progress and the risk of failure.

Not long ago, I had my second physical therapy session since leaving the surgery floor.  The physical therapist was amazed at my progress.  I had faced the pain, I had done my exercises with daily regularity. 

But the next morning....I awoke in great pain.

After minutes that seemed like hours of trying to ignore the pain, trying to convince myself that this symptom of my surgery was not important, that the pain would go away or at least dissipate for a little bit if I fell back to sleep;.....I got up and faced the pain.

I went downstairs and started doing the stretches and exercises the physical therapists prescribed to me.  It was not a convenient time, I think is was close to 2:00 a.m.

The pain didn't go away.  In fact, for moments, it hurt more and more.  But soon, my range of motion came back, with that, the blood flow to the area increased and then the pain dissipated.  Gradually pain became more manageable.  The pain finally gave up its grip on my mind.  I won that round, but it was a close call.

If we can think of our body metaphorically as a car, or an aircraft, then pain is only one instrument on the instrument panel.  Pain cannot be the sole focus of our life.  Sometimes it screams at us and overwhelms our sense of self.  Even then, we must remember it is not the end all be all.

Pain must be dealt with and it must be acknowledged for what it is.  If we fail at this, we run the risk of even greater damage done to ourselves in the long term.

There are other components of our lives that must also be balanced our attention. 

It is best to deal with pain when it is not overwhelming.  When we know we will face great pain, it is best to make a plan in advance and stick to it through that journey we know we must go. 

The solution to great pain is really hard to diagnose while under its spell, as it overwhelms our mind.

Still, even then, the best time to face this monster is right now.

Happy Haloween Tesla!

Halloween is a great time of year.  It allows us to dress up into whatever we want to be. 

Two nights ago, at a coffee shop, I met a guy dressed up as Nikola Tesla.  He was perfect; right down to the very official, dignified clothing of the late 1800s.  He had a machine with him that looked like it came out of a museum.  It was in perfect condition, made out of old, solid wood, with components that, when you pressed the button, gave off an impressive arc of electricity that flashed from one point of the machine to another.

I asked him, "Are you Tesla?" He said, "Tonight, I'm Tesla."

I thought to myslef, "Who dresses up like Tesla?"

You can't dance with that box, nor are you scary looking like a 19th Century scientist.

I left this man after complementing him on an incredibly accurate costume.  As I made my way home, the scene really started messing with my head.  "Who dresses like Tesla on Halloween?" 

Maybe that was Tesla's ghost, stopped by to remind us of great science and great minds.

Happy Halloween!

Tesla, you scared the heck out of me!

Nikola Tesla

Oh won't you please take me home....?

As I approach 50, I often reflect on the inflection points of my life.  One of those huge inflection points was my assignment to the Second Infantry Division, 2/2 Aviation Regiment, Camp Stanley, Korea.  After some jostling around, I  met my goal of becoming a UH-60 platoon leader in A Company.

Camp Stanley was home to the Aviation Brigade (helicopters) and DIVARTY (Division Artillery, (Howitzers, big, big guns!)).

At the main gate of Camp Stanley was a sign that said "Welcome to Camp Stanley, Home of Guns and Rotors".  That was kind of a take off on the group "Guns and Roses" who were very popular with the soldiers at the time.

Their song, Paradise City was extremely popular.  Especially the chorus that sang "Take, take me home!  Oh won't you please take me home?!"  An assignment in Korea, up close to the DMZ, was considered a tough assignment.  You were on standby all the time, the North Koreans could and might attack at any time.  We were on constant alert and were suspended there in what seemed to be another world, for 365 days.

Looking back on it, with regard to our soldiers, who have been back and forth to Iraq and Afghanistan many, many times, where there are real bombs, real bullets and real death all the time; the 2ID in Korea was a much easier assignment.  But at that time, we didn't have anything of that magnitude to compare our assignment too.

So the song's chorus of "Take me home!!" still resonates with me.

Somedays you think you are going through the hardest part of your life, when actually, upon reflection, it might just be the very best part of your life.

I made it home, but there were others like CW3 Jerry Haney who didn't.  Jerry died in a fiery helicopter crash after he and his crew hit wires close to the Han River.  Jerry had ten days left on his 365 day tour.  He didn't have to take that mission, but he did.  The Korean farmers who witnessed the crash, didn't have to rush into the burning crash to pull out two of Jerry's crew, but they did.  Maybe they didn't know Jerry was still in there.

Flying is dangerous work and let me tell you, I believe Jerry Haney was one of the best instructor pilots we had.  Sometimes your number is just up.  Sometimes you volunteer for just a little bit more than you bargain for.

I miss you Jerry!

When I hear "Paradise City" played now, the first thing I remember is that I did make it home.  The rest is a jumbled memory of flying, of being at the controls of that very powerful UH-60 Black Hawk helicopter under Night Vision Goggles along the DMZ.

And the decisions I made there that will forever echo in the rest of my life.

A few years later, I was assigned again to Korea.  This time I got a picture of me in my favorite office.

I'm sorry, I didn't hear you....

One the things that has undercut my development throughout my 50 years is that sometimes I don't listen.

Listening is hugely important.  The process tells me things I didn't know and perhaps never thought about.

But listening takes time and energy.  I'm always trying to conserve time and energy so that I can.....hummm...what is more important than living in the now?  What is more important than trying to understand what someone is telling me?  Especially my daughter, my son or my wife or those people at work?

Unfortunately the adds on TV are more alluring.  The distant opportunities I see on the horizon of my life capture my mind when actually I need to come down to earth and PAY ATTENTION to those closest to me.

Sad, but true.  I need to work on this very, very diligently.

Harder Better Faster Stronger

Looks like physical therapy is working.  I keep getting stronger, I feel less pain.

The key will be using my time wisely to build myself up.

Country Roads

One of the songs I can play pretty well is "Country Roads" by John Denver.

We dedicated this song to Joe Clay who passed away this summer.  Joe spent years and years of dedication to the Boy Scouts of America.

This summer, Joe Clay went home, and I'll bet he was hiking on a Country Road on the way there.

See you in Heaven Joe!

Facing the Enemy - Pride

As I read Steven Pressfield's book, the War of Art, I get this message:  Our greatest downfall, the one thing our muse will not tolerate, is our pride.

I look back on my almost 50 years almost with amusement.  When I got that feeling in my chest that I was actually somebody, that "People just didn't quite understand how wonderful I was..." feeling - I was headed for a fall.  And fall I did.  The fall wasn't too bad, but that hard stop at the end of it was rather uncomfortable.

Milton wrote in his book "Paradise Lost" about how Satan fell for 9 days before he and his cohorts hit rock bottom.  A nine day fall! The reason?  Pride.  Somehow, the #2 guy in Heaven didn't think he was getting enough credit.  Long way down from there, pal.  In some metaphorical ways, I've shared some of that journey to the fiery pits, though not as far, not as deep and not as hot.

So for me, I reflect my falls and the sudden stop of reality often.  During one of these falls, my ego was badly bruised, almost killed, but never quite.

So as I look to the future, I will be wise to work hard, think deeply, give all I can, serve God and mankind and remain humble.

If I don't remain humble, then I can look forward to another long fall and another hard very stop at the end.

Time

What is time?  It is something a 50 year old man is running out of.

It is something that even Steve Jobs ran out of.

But there seems to be an interesting phenomena that happens to most people as they grow older.  Even as they run out of time, they become more patient.

Just about the time I retired from the Army, I picked up the guitar.  When I was barely good enough, I started playing for the people at Pikes Peak Hospice.

Most of the people I played for at Hospice had, on average, about three weeks or less to live.  Yet almost each one of them was very, very patient.

Of course, a very sad part of this is that most of them were alone and they spent much of their remaining time watching TV.

I think when people start to die, it is hard for those who love them, to spend time with them.

The last days of a person's life are often the only time a person confronts his or her own mortality in a very direct, honest way.  

At some point, the reality of death and the need to confront it, becomes unavoidable.   As this happens, everyone in the room is reminded of their own mortality.  This can be an uncomfortable subject for most Americans.  Hence, many Americans (like my Dad), die alone, in a hospital or hospice bed, often just watching TV.

The photo above is of Ruth Hasty and I.  She passed away about 12 hours after this picture was taken. She loved music, especially guitar music.  What an honor it was to share this very special time in her life.  

What do you say to someone who is dying?  Sometimes all you can do is sing a song or say a prayer.

Ruth died surrounded by her son Les (who also played the guitar for her), and many of her friends and family.  

Ruth's death was sad, as I think all deaths are, but in her case, I cannot imagine a more beautiful and  dignified way to pass on.....

  

Fixing Stuff

As I approach 50 years old, I learn more and more about how important time is and how important our contribution to the world is.  The time of laziness and sloth is, I hope, behind me.  I pray that the remaining time in my life will be spent in pursuit of the great and the good.

With that in mind, there is no time wasted in even the small tasks of cleaning the house or doing the dishes.  These events give me time to reflect on what I have done and I what I need to do.

In his autobiography, Gandhi wrote about cleaning urinals. He left me with the impression that is was very important to do things he disliked, especially if they help clean a dirty environment for himself and for others.

I really don't like cleaning.  It forces me to take action and to make decisions.

What to keep, what to throw away, what to give to others.  And those thing I keep, where do I put them?  Are they really that important? Would it make my life easier to manage if I gave them to someone else in need?

What was it Emerson said, "We should do those things that we fear."  ?  I think that goes for cleaning too.  We should do those things we need to do, especially if we hate them, because it is good for our soul.

The Meaning of Now

As I approach 50, the meaning of now takes a whole new sense of urgency.  I've started to loose my hair, I gain weight and lose muscle faster than ever.  And on the horizon looms that time that we all must experience, death.

When will it come?  I don't know, nor do I spend much time planning for it, but I know it is there and there is no escape from its inevitability.  So life takes on a greater sense of urgency to complete those things started and to start those things that need to be begun.

And really, there is only one time that we live, and it is Now.  The future fades off into an undefined horizon, the past sets behind me like a setting sun.  Today and now is all I can manage, and what I have to manage is more than enough.

Goals in the future are not as important to me as is connecting with real people.  Gone now is the shroud of whom I want once wanted to pretend to be.

No, today I am who I am and really, I hope you get to know me now. There is no one I will pretend to be.  There is only me trying to be the best me I can be,....now....

Smile!

Of all the places I've been to, Angola made the biggest impact.  Angola changed me.

This picture was taken in Kuito, Angola.  It was the place where their 27 year civil war ended.  Look who is left.  Street kids, likely with parents who were killed in the war.  The boy in the wheel chair with the unforgettable smile was a victim of polio.  His friends take turns pushing him down the dusty streets.  

There they are.  No parents, the 7th poorest county in the world, emerging from a terrible, terrible 27 year civil war (I think our Civil War last a little more that two years and we still talk about it.)  

What courage these children show me!  What optimism!  I have the greatest respect for these people.

Before I left, I gave away all of my money and all of my food.  Maybe that was a good thing.

If I stay here with you now...

Ah, that Old Lynyrd  Skynyrd Song "Free Bird".  The memories come rushing back to me. How many times have I sang that song?  To me, it is about a guy who feels compelled to leave his high school, his hometown, his sweet heart and travel the world, because "there are too many places I've go to see".

As I work with the song on my guitar now, I look at the lyrics with a more jaded eye.  As I approach 50, I see the ghosts of things passed and opportunities missed.  Yeah, I travelled, but at what cost?

I've been around the world two or three times in either direction and have lived outside my hometown for about 29 years.  I've lived in Asia for seven years, lived in Europe for four years.  I was in Tiananmen Square, China just months before the Tenamin Square Massacre.   I had my picture taken with Chinese Soldiers about half my height right where the students would later build a model of the Statue of Liberty in protest to their Communist Government's policies.

I've flown helicopters at low level, in formation, full of screaming Infantry soldiers under Night Vision Goggles along the DMZ  between North and South Korea.  I've been to almost the furthest southern tip of Africa to the furthest northern part to the furtherest western part of Africa.  I guess that checks the block.  There were "too many things I've got see".

But really, in each place I was, it was the human element that resonated with me.  It was the people that helped me see a deeper part of the humanity I live in and I live for.  I could have easily seen all that in the eyes of the high school girlfriend who believed in me so much, so long ago.

As I go back to learning the lyrics of the song, I find the words to be very narcissistic.  I've rewritten the words to my version of this song.  Insert "Lord help me, I must change..." instead of "Lord help me I can't change..."

Dude, when reality finally catches up to you, you are gonna change.  You better learn to embrace change, change in the right direction, keep your bearings and still remember who the person you are what what it is that you are all about.  If you are lucky and you pay attention, maybe that won't change.......

Great song, but the words are just too narcissistic for me now.

A friend and I in Morocco, or was it Tunisia?

Free Bird anyone?

I'll be working on that song for a while.

Capturing Ideas Now

A while ago I saw a presentation on TED (http://www.ted.com/talks/lang/eng/elizabeth_gilbert_on_genius.html).  It was given by Elizabeth Gilbert, an author who wrote "Eat, Pray and Love" a best seller that seemed to come out of now where.  Then she spoke about the downside of success, especially if it comes very quickly and unexpectedly to someone.

She spoke about how the Ancient Greeks and Romans believed in the concept of genius and the muse.  Genius to the Ancients was not something you are, it is something that happens to you on occasion and when that occasion happens, you need to capture it and share it with others.  It is often a fleeting opportunity that does not return.

As I look back on most of my Army life, I see my much failed philosophy of trying to be exactly as the Army wanted me to be.  I was not trying to develop myself and my unique capabilities / experiences, I was trying to conform myself to that organization's vision of a perfect officer, perfect pilot, perfect....well, you know.

The end of the story is I never made it.  I demanded of my family and myself huge sacrifices to be put at the alter of the big green machine.

The real end of the story is what the Army did with me.  I have a unique ability to keep in mind what is important, I'm very trustworthy and at the same time, I have what seems to be an unusual ability to work with people of other cultures in often strange and scary places, without being rattled.

The Army sent me to Africa, sometimes by myself to work with other governments on bilateral and sometimes multilateral civilian / military exercises.  I was great at this.  I loved it....but once again it did not conform to the image I had of what I should be doing.  By then I had spent 8 years overseas and I felt it necessary to take my family back to the US, where they could once again learn about our great country and know what it was like to be Americans who lived in America.

It took the Army about 18 years to see the unique qualities I had to offer.  It took me 24 years to figure out the same thing.

So I had that fleeting moment, that great stroke of luck that put me in the right place at the right time.  The real funny thing was that it was not my idea, but the Army's.

Today, as I approach 50, I'm less likely to conform to the norm of what others want me to be or do.  I am  more likely to take inventory of the special gifts I have and to give those gifts of mine to help others.

Thanks Army for the great opportunity you gave me!

Me, outside a hospital in Kuito, Angola, 

Western Africa

Some day I will.....(fill in the blank).

As I approach 50, that 'some day' that I was always going to do this or that comes dangerously close to withering away, or becoming extinct, or at least hard to fir intro an already over committed schedule.

Some day, some day... if you are reading this and you are under 50, remember me.  That little voice inside your head that says you really need to do this or that...please don't ignore it.

As I approach 50, for me anyway, that little voice becomes louder and louder.  At this point in my life it sounds almost a clanging gong.  "You're running out of time....you need to do this right NOW!"  This is what I hear when all is quiet and there are no other distractions in the present.  Sometimes I hear it at night, sometimes I hear it in the shower.

So now I'm doing those things.  I wrote a song, I'm doing this blog, I practice the guitar daily, I joined the church choir, I study Latin and Spanish phrases every morning.

I wonder where this is all taking me.

In the mean time, please learn from my mistakes, learn from my lost time.  Do what you are called to do NOW.  Don't wait for the little voice to turn into a clanging gong.

; )

  

Forgiveness

Part of getting older is dealing with burdens of the past.  Like too much stuff can clutter a home, so can unresolved issues and those times when we need to forgive others.

I have found that forgiveness is not a one time event, it is a continuous process that lasts as long as memory, perhaps even longer.

So much of my past I hope other people forgive me for.  Perhaps even more so, I should forgive early, often and now.

Three Strikes and You're Out? More like Infinity

Life is not like being at bat in a baseball game.  Three strikes and you are out.  In life you can swing as many times as you want.  You call yourself out, nobody else can.

Funny thing, lots of times in my life I thought I was suppose to leave the batting area...and go... where?  To another batting area.  Hummmm.

Maybe we just need to learn from each ball the pitcher throws at us.

Keep swinging, and swing for the bleachers!!

This picture was taken of me during my last flight at the controls of an aircraft while still in uniform.    Who would have thought it would have been in an Air Force F-16 D during a 3 v 4 Air to Air Combat Training mission above Venice, Italy?

Look closely at the name on the aircraft under my arm.  2Lt M. Kathleen......  I didn't fly with her.  I flew with a guy who had the call sign K-squared.  I got to meet Kathleen though.  She was a blond haired, blued eyed 22 or 24 year old.  She told me that she enlisted in the Air Force as a crew-chief, went to a Jr. College, then a University and got her commission through OCS.  Up to that point, I rarely told anyone I went to a Jr. College.  When I went to flight school, most of my classmates were graduates from West Point or some other elite College or University.

I'm proud of Kathleen's journey.  She went from the humble beginnings of an enlistment, to a Jr. College, to a University, to an Air Force Commission to  flying one of the best fighter aircraft in the world.  Not bad, huh?

OBTW, I went to Otero Jr. College (OJC) in La Junta, CO, before I got my undergraduate and graduate degrees.  OJC was the best academic education I ever had.  Sorry it took an F-16 pilot to give me the courage to admit that.

Make 50 or Die Trying

Making 50 is no big deal.  Just live 50 years and there you are, 50.

The truth is you have only two choices, get older or die.

There is a lot of pressure in the people I deal with daily to hide age, to dissipate its effects and to deny the inevitability of the process that takes its toll on every one of us.

At this point in my life, I'm doing to take a view that is as reality based as I can stand and make a plan for the next X years that still remain for me to walk this earth.

Anybody want to join me?

Replacing Bad with Good

Replacing Bad with Good is one of the things I strive to live by.

If something bad happens, what do you do?  Often my immediate response is to return in kind.  As I've seen through my life though, this continuos 'do loop' is a waste of time and energy.

I think we need to take a hint from the teachings of the Bible, the Ancient Greeks and Romans and many other wise people who have walked before us.  This world is a bit dysfunctional, bad things will happen. What will our response be?  To forgive, to replace the bad favor with a good favor.  There is the rub.  That is the challenge.

That is to say not to be Holier than Thou, but rather, to really mean it, to really try to give back good even when handed a bad situation.

Dreams I'll Never See

I had a hard time getting up again this morning.  Was it my shoulder?  Was it the pain killing drugs fading away or was it the anxiety of all I think I need to do today manifesting itself into one moment in the morning?

Never mind.  The cause does not matter as much as the solution.

My brother would often listen to Molly Hatchet's Song "Dreams I'll Never See" when he got up in the morning.  As I stumbled through my daily readings, my shower and trying to comb my hair with a shoulder not quite ready from prime time, the melody of the song hit me.

The song begins with a guitar riff that is very distinct.  The notes of that music took me back in my memory of a time in 1978 - 1980.  In those days we faced what we thought were almost a hopeless situation, caught in a financial nightmare, unable to break free of all the issues, known and unknown that surrounded us.

But the song's message to me was you get up and try any way.  You may not see your dreams come to fruition, but maybe that's a good reason to try anyway.

Funny how songs of the past become the sound tracks of our lives isn't it?

The solution to my funk was to hear that song that drove my brother and ultimately me, further along to where we needed to go...

"Just one more morning, I had to wake up with the blues,..."

"I've got dreams I'm never gonna see

Lord help me baby, dreams get the best of me...."

Pull myself together, gonna put on a new face ya,

Climb down from the hill to and see what I can see..."

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=z_3SydJVaE0

Starting the Day

It seems what every I do in the morning, I get done.

There are a cascade of things to do each do, all of them in some way important, but only a few will get done.

Only a few tasks can be started in the morning.  Later in the day, many of my tasks attempted will be thwarted.  Some of my attempts at the tasks at hand will end in failure or incompleteness.

I guess I've seen almost 50 years of this process, seems I'd be accustomed to it by now, but I'm not.  I often face the day looking at all the things I probably can't or won't get done, hence what does get done is worry and fretting over trivialities.

This is a HUGE mistake.  Very likely, my life is half over.  I am lucky to be here.  It is a privilege to get to do ANYTHING.  This will be my new attitude starting today, starting this morning!

Echoes of the Dreams Gone Bye

Part of my midlife crisis was to learn to begin learning to play the guitar just before I retired from the Army.

After 9/11 what could I do?  As a helicopter pilot with almost 20 years in the Army, go to war, just like everyone else.  So I waited my turn....

And somehow, for some reason, the Army turned me into a civilian/military exercise planner and sent me everywhere.

As an exercise planner stationed in Europe, I helped to plan civilian / military exercises with nations from Iceland to South Africa.

In the middle of that range was some work I did in Northern Africa and the Caucuses.  There I worked with the people and militaries of Tunisia, Morocco and Azerbaijan. 

In Baku, Azerbaijan, my hotel room was about 45 miles from the border of Iran.  It was about 60 miles to the Iranian capital and about 120 miles from the boarder of Iraq.  For the most part, I worked and traveled among the Muslim people of these countries without a machine gun on my back.  I think the experience I got from being there was much different that my of friends who were deployed to Iraq and Afghanistan wearing full battle rattle.

Me and two other guys somewhere deep in the Medina of Robat, Morocco, Sept 11th, 2004 (?)

What can I do as a fellow human being on 9/11?  My response was the opposite of many.  I picked up the guitar to learn to play Schubert's version of Ave Maria.  Why Ave Maria?  Well, the song is a tribute to Mary, Mother of Jesus and she (a poor, Jewish, middle eastern woman) is an example to me of someone who had great faith in her God, her son and her beliefs.  She did not lose her faith in spite of a complete meltdown in her world. She saw her only son crucified, tortured to death and still believed in her God, her Son and in herself. Three days later, Jesus rose from the dead and Christianity took shape.

Maybe when I play Ave Maria at Church or even on the corner of a city street, I will somehow drown out the sounds played and replayed of the airplanes crashing into the Twin Towers.  I will drown out the hatred that still resides even in my own mind.  Somehow, maybe in this very humble contribution to the world, I will be replacing something very bad with something good.

Well, four years later and I'm still working on the music.  I've had years of private lessons, summer camps and group guitar classes.  Each day, each 9/11, I get a little closer to creating the music as it should be played....but I'm not there yet.  This year I played at the beginning of Mass with a friend of mine who played the violin.  Lots of people said it sounded great.  Yes, thank you, but it is not good enough yet.  My journey continues.

My guitar teacher (Charlie Hall web site at:  http://www.dayjobmusic.com/charlie.htm ) said to me, "Chris, you will be able to play Ave Maria on September 11th, the question is 'What year?'"

In a moment of pure insanity at the Colorado Roots Camp last summer, (http://www.coloradorootsmusic.com/index.htm) I signed up for a song writing class with the teacher, Penny Nichols.  On the first day of class she said that everybody has at least one song inside them, some people have hundreds.

It took me almost the whole week to come up with my song.  In the end, I was inspired by the pictures of my two Grandfathers and my Father.

All three of these men have passed away and their pictures are right in front of me in the place I practice guitar every morning.   The other inspiration came from refinancing our house.  We got a 4% or 5% interest rate on a 30 mortgage.  That's good, right?  Then I started thinking...."Let's see, I'm almost 50 and I have a 30 year mortgage....on my house....?

"How do I get myself into these messes?"

So there is the song.  It is looking back at almost 50 years of trying to do the right thing and messing up constantly.  What to do?  I almost want to give up. But then I look into the eyes in the pictures of the the three men I greatly admire, each of them now gone.  Each of them carried the message to me, "Start again."  It is like they were saying, "OK, things are messed up, perhaps hopeless, so what?  Start again.  Try to get it right this time around."
I spent most of yesterday recoding that song with a friend of mine, his wife and their son on the piano.  Below is a link to the song.


"Echoes of the Dreams gone bye.....Grandfather says.....'Start again!!'"

Rolling with the Changes

REO Speedwagon has a song about rolling with the changes.

Roll with the Changes

 I think this concept is the key to aging gracefully.  It may also be a useful tool to living gracefully in the present.

Change is inevitable; changes in our bodies, our income, where we live, our marriage status, our jobs.  Key here is not to hold on too tightly to the past, but rather to learn from it and keep those lessons in context.  I will strive to use those lessens anytime I can on the CURRENT situation at hand.  I cannot and will not live in the past.

I am not the 19 year old I once was.  I'm this guy with the memories of some great things, but I've got to get up in the morning and be the guy I am today.

We are here and now.  That's cool.  It is our chance to shine, but someday soon, our lights will dim and it will be someone else's turn to shine.  How do I gracefully exit the stage of life for the next act?

I think the best way is to be the person God created and to give the effort 100% of my mental and physical energies now.  If done correctly, I will know when it is time to leave.  I hope when I do, I give the new guy a great introduction and to the best of my ability, to support and facilitate the gifts he can now give the world.

Maybe that's what being a Grandfather is all about, giving to those who replace you as you gracefully exit the stage of this life...

Steve Jobs, now that guy made a dent...

Steve Jobs passed away yesterday.  He was 56 years old.  That's 6 years older than me.

It is amazing what he got accomplished.  I wonder, when it is all said and done for me, what I will have accomplished?  Perhaps I will never know the impact of my work or my life.  Perhaps knowing is not as important as doing.

I will let others judge the trail I leave.  As for me, I will do what I can to the best of my ability....and I will sleep well at night.

Your children come through you, but not from you...

In Kahlil Gibran's book, "The Prophet" there is a chapter dedicated to children.  In it, his main character, The Prophet, says:

"Your children are not your children.
They are the sons and daughters of Life's longing for itself.
They come through you but not from you,
And though they are with you yet they do not belong to you."

How true this is.  I strive to be the best parent possible, and yet on the face of it, I fail often on my efforts to be the parent I strive to be.

"You may give them your love, but not your thoughts,
For they have their own thoughts.
You may house their bodies but not their souls,
For their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow, which you cannot visit, not even in your dreams.
You may strive to be like them, but seek not to make them like you.
For life goes not backward nor tarries with yesterday."

He goes on to talk about the pain of parenting...

"You are the bows from which your children as living arrows are sent forth.
The archer sees the mark upon the path of the infinite, and He bends you with His might that His arrows may go swift and far."

And then Gibran asks us as parents to give willingly....

"Let your bending in the archer's hand be for gladness:
For even as He loves the arrow that flies,
so He loves the bow that is stable."

I guess that is the trick isn't it?  I need to be as stable as possible, bare the pain and give the task 100% of my strength.

The two hardest things I've ever done in my 49+ years on earth is:
1.  Stay married
2.  Raise two kids.

The jury is still out on both of these things.  Let's just say that I've done my best.  The chips fall where they may.....

Combating Entropy

As I grow older, I must come to terms with the limitations of healing that my body can provide.  My mind is something completely different.  It seems as though my mind is getting sharper as my eyes require reading glasses and that 7 minute mile becomes more and more of a memory than a reality.

Dad and I in 1963

Can you spot the 50 year old man in the picture?  Yes, that's me standing upon my Dad's shoulders.  So much of my accomplishments have been through the steady hand and support of others, even when I thought I was doing all the work.

Many years forward, I now stand alone on my Father's birthday.  No, I shouldn't say that. Dad has passed on, but I have many people of my own to hold up and to balance on my shoulders.  It is time to take the seat in the back and become a supporting actor in the movie of life, all the while, challenging my brain and my body to be as strong and as quick as possible.

CGB.

The Spirit...

Last night I met Woody Crumbo's daughter.  Woody was a famous Indian Artist and good frind of my father's.  Woody's daughter was in my hometown giving a presentationg of a documentary she had made of her father.

In the docuemtary, I heard the voice of Woody talking about how an artist puts spirit into a painting by putting much of himself into the work.

Seth Goden says the same thing.  We must go to our work with our whole self, our art, our passion and the spirit that lives within us.

I agree.  Now to live with spirit!  Few days of my life here on earth have really been living in the spirit that is me.

This will be a new leaf for me...