Lent and the Chocolate Puffs Lesson

In my previous life as an outdoor adventurer, many lessons were learned as I trudged through the harsh environment of what can only be described as extreme back-packing. It is no secret, for example, that when you hike for several days in, say, the Grand Canyon, every ounce you carry matters. This is simply because every ounce you carry is felt in every step you take.

So on just such an adventure, I packed a light-weight sunscreen stick to replace any bottles or tubes. I worked out a plan to share cooking utensils to help lighten the load. I even chose to forego a tent—just too much weight—and opted to sleep under the stars each night.

But when it came to food, I made some poorer choices. I had easily snacked on protein bars back home in the flat lands.  I soon learned that in the desert---these same treats were about as palatable as hockey pucks! They were not only heavy in my pack—they sat heavy on my stomach.

As I tried to choke down these compact little bricks, I found myself increasingly mooching off a fellow hiker. She had wisely packed a mixture of peanut-butter and chocolate puffs that was so much easier to consume. Her snack was much less complicated than my dense protein bars. And yet, my body was fueled just the same. I thought to myself—aha! Sometimes simpler is better; sometimes lighter is preferred.

During this season of Lent, I’ve been thinking quite a bit about the idea that “sometimes less is better.” Little by little, I have been decreasing the number of distractions in my life that slow me down. Some of those distractions are the radio and TV---some of them are foods that make me feel sluggish. As my days become quieter, and my meals become cleaner—I find that my senses are becoming sharper and my steps are become lighter.

Recently, I came upon the following quote:

“Great design is eliminating all unnecessary details.” – Minh D. Tran

I pondered the notion that as God designed us to be great and wonderful, perhaps we just need to strip away some of the unnecessary details---the stories and lies we choose to believe about ourselves—that only serve to weigh us down.

Sometimes it is best to just go with the basics—the simple truth of who we are—or the simplicity of chocolate puffs and peanut butter that can power us onward as we continue to march forth.

Let's Begin Again

Forget January 1^st---I believe that March 4^th is a much better day to begin the year. This isn’t just because it happens to be my favorite day of the year. It isn’t because I get such a kick out of hearing from old friends and feeling their well wishes. And it isn’t a result of the fact that I have been celebrating it for such a long time. I can think of several compelling reasons to promote March 4^th as our new New Year’s Day! Consider this:

First of all, March 4^th comes in early spring when the earth itself is just waking up. I am blessed to live in a part of the country where I can experience all four seasons. While Autumn is still my all-time favorite, Spring runs a very close second. Slowly but surely the monochromatic landscape gives way to pink and white and lavender buds. Tender soft green shoots hold both promise and fragility in beautiful tension. Everything is fresh and alive. No matter how cold or dark or just plain dull the winter months have been, spring turns the page to hopefulness.

And no matter the sorrows or disappointments of the past, spring makes the heart new. In fact, the colder the winter, the happier the spring.

O sad, cold winter

Harsh to prove the warmth to come

Spring makes the heart new

Secondly, March 4^th comes during the Christian Lenten season. While the earth is waking up, my spirit wakes up as I journey through this holy time. There is something about fasting that wakes up my senses. Increased prayer opportunities open my heart. And giving to the poor expands my heart even further. Clean the slate; simplify; chip away at some of those little habits that clutter up who I am really meant to be. Lent can do all that and more. What better way to march forth into a new year?

Finally, March 4^th just sounds more inspiring. I know what it means to march forth! It has a starting point that immediately draws me to the next step. (How does one January 1^st??) March 4^th is both challenging and encouraging at the same time. Take a chance—move forward—be a little bold.

It, like spring, holds my promise and my vulnerability in beautiful tension. Happy New Year, all you who celebrate March 4th!

Marching Forth Even When You Don't Think You Can

Sometimes God’s nudges come like a warm, gentle breeze that caress your cheek and whisper a suggestion to you. Other times, God’s promptings seem like gale-force winds that you try to knock you off your feet. There are just too many signs to be ignored.

Lately, I have felt the inescapable swirling of God’s messages. But I am a stubborn old rock who will not be easily moved. These messages—like the wind—find their way into my thoughts through every little crack and crevice. I’ll be watching TV and a commercial will announce “Change is your destiny!” I’ll be listening to the radio and on will come a book review for The Complacent Class that speaks of our society’s inability to embrace change. Even the little plaque in my bathroom challenges with “What would you attempt to do if you knew you could not fail?” (I know, I know. I put it there for inspiration. Now it only serves to taunt me.)

Here on the eve of March 4^th---which is “the only day that tells you to do something”, I find myself struggling to do the one I need to do to effectively march forth, namely, embrace change.

I know that life is still ridiculously awesome, and I am thankful every day for this amazing gift. I also know that I am human, and as such, I tend to resist change. I suppose this has something to do with my need to be in control of everything within my power. (Yeah, I am working on that problem.) It may also have to do with a fear of the unknown—which really links back to the whole control issue.

For me, marching forth means to have a willingness to bravely move forward into a future that is not fully known. Moving forward involves change---and change is good. After all, change is growth--change is progress--and as the old saying goes it is the only thing that is permanent. I want to make peace with change---but I know I cannot do it on my own. All I can do is laugh and delight in the knowledge that God’s love is so overwhelming that these not-so-subtle messages about embracing change continue to come my way. What a happy mess to be in! Eventually, these loving gale-force winds will dislodge me and carry me along the path that lies before me.

Am I brave? Not at all. Will I march forth anyway? Absolutely! I don’t know what kind of changes are in store for me, but I am reassured that God is with me. After all, if God keeps dropping these big ole hints—then something good must be around the corner!

As much as I’d like to speak brightly and boldly about the importance of marching forth, I’d rather be honest and acknowledge that sometimes we can march forth with no small measure of fear and uncertainty…and that’s OK, too!  

Carving a Life

Every now and then, a phrase will grab me and throw me into a whirlwind of thoughts. What does that phrase really mean? And what does it mean for me? Waiting on a flight recently, I overheard a TV interview that I could not see from where I was seated. The phrase in the interview that leaped out at me was “I have chosen to carve out my own path.”

At first the thought of this phrase exhilarated me. How exciting to be able to choose one’s own destiny. How freeing to not be limited by what other people tell you to do. How thrilling to be able to design a path in life that has never been taken before.

It sounds nearly irresistible, but it does not come without its challenges. Carving a path is nothing like charting a course. The airlines charted a course to get me to Pittsburgh and back. The GPS on my phone charted a course to a local restaurant.  I even consulted a good old-fashioned paper map and landmarks to navigate downtown Pittsburgh.

When I chart a course, I merely connect a set of pre-determined paths together. When I carve a path, I am embarking on something entirely new—uncharted territory, as it were. And carving a path is much harder than following a course.

When I used to hike in the Grand Canyon, the unmarked paths required a great deal of effort. I needed to be very aware of my surroundings, and constantly focused on the path for each step I took to avoid twisting my ankle on rugged terrain. I also needed to search for cairns to be sure that I was following the right path. When I would come upon a clearly defined, smooth and level path, I called it a “highway” and was immediately able to increase my speed (especially helpful if I was losing daylight), or just cruise along almost as if I was on a conveyor belt.

So as enchanting as carving a path for my life sounds, I realize that it requires a lot of hard work. But if I think of my life—this precious, precious gift—as a pre-programmed setting on a GPS that anyone can access, or even as a safe and sure smooth path that requires little effort on my part, I am saddened. Such a life seems so boring, predictable and uninspiring.

Looking at carving a path may seem like too much effort. (I picture bushwhackers hacking out a trail in the jungle.) But if I consider carving a path like carving a statue, then I find hope. It has been said of great artists that to create a beautiful statue, they merely remove the excess material to reveal the beauty that was hidden within. So, I will march forth in a unique way in the hopes of revealing the singular life that has been gifted to me. I hope you will, too!

Clear Your Mind and Dance

Today simplicity and happiness are so trendy. Everywhere you look you hear about ways to simplify your life and ways to be happier. You may even hear that you can’t find one without the other. 

Could it be that as a society we have finally turned the corner on our consumer-driven ways and have embraced a “less is more” philosophy? Perhaps for some. But the emphasis on simplicity may be just another ploy to sell the latest, greatest product designed to make our lives easier. And we find ourselves bewildered that it takes more and more to achieve the “less is more” goal. Divesting ourselves of material goods is harder than it seems.

But let’s say we do turn the corner and choose a less product-dependent path. We may discover that we have just moved from accumulating goods to accumulating information. We soon realize we are on yet another cluttered path—strewn with too much information and entertainment. Just when we thought our load was lighter, we wonder at the exhaustion we experience by consuming huge amounts of news, entertainment and social media. I have often thought that Facebook reminded me of the East Australian Current as depicted in the movie Finding Nemo.  

“Crush: Okay. Squirt here will now give you a rundown of proper exiting technique!

Squirt: Good afternoon! We're gonna have a great jump today. Okay, first crank a hard cutback as you hit the wall! There's a screaming bottom curve, so watch out! Remember: rip it, roll it, and punch it.”

It is initially fast and fun, but once you get sucked into it, it is very difficult to disengage. And that is just one of noises that crowds into our minds. Is it any wonder there is an increase in alcohol consumption and the use of sleep aids these days? We can’t relax and slow down our information-saturated brains. Even if we make the argument that we are switching from collecting things to collecting experiences, we may still fall victim to “doing” more than “being”, and happiness will continue to elude us.

So where else can we turn to experience simplicity and happiness? There is another path we can choose and it is one that I am just beginning to traverse. In addition to reducing material goods and limiting information and entertainment consumption, I am also working on clearing my mind through meditation. I am the first to admit that my mind is still quite cluttered, but each time that I accept and release my whirling thoughts, I open some room.

And in that space between thoughts is the beautiful silence where Love lives and speaks to me. And that is where true happiness may be found.

I visualize a bigger expanse in my mind—open and clear and inviting. I am reminded of an old expression for a generous space---“You could have a dance in here!” How delightful! I am clearing the way for the dance of my imagination and marching forth down the happiness road.

Into the Fire

Once upon a time, somewhere in a remote field out in the middle of Texas, I found myself physically pushing away calves intent upon walking into the camp fire a group of us on a retreat had made. It was as if they were moths—and all of us around the fire tried our best to bat them away. I remember thinking, “How stupid are these creatures? Why are they insistent on going directly into our fire? Don’t they know any better?”

That is probably the point. They did not know any better. They had not yet learned how to distinguish light and warmth from pain. It seemed they practically had to singe their velvety noses before they learned what we already knew—that fire can be both good and bad. We couldn’t reason with them. And our attempts at re-direction was largely useless. They had to experience the fire for themselves before they could learn about it.  

It may be a bit of a stretch—but every time I thought of today’s reflection, I couldn’t help but think of those silly little cows. I have been thinking lately about the merits of embracing life’s challenges head-on. It is my natural inclination to avoid conflict and challenges. I tend to prefer a peaceful, calm (read: predictable) environment. I know that challenges help me grow, but racing to meet challenges head-on is, for me, tantamount to running full-on “into the fire.”

Let me clear: I am not in favor of recklessly heading into known dangers.  What I am trying to do is convince myself that conflict is good—and that accepting challenges provides the most personal growth.

It has been said “what you resist, persists.” If I continue to avoid challenges, the more they will be a part of my life. I do not desire more challenges, so how do I turn this around? As with most things, I believe it is a matter of attitude and perspective.

What would it look like if I not only accepted challenges in my life, but sought them out? What if instead of shrinking from challenges, I began to look at them as amazing opportunities for growth? I know that I want to grow, so I want to begin to approach challenges as teachable moments. I want to understand conflicts as revealing to me what I can and cannot handle. And during this growth in self-knowledge, I would begin to see more and more how God is with me and strengthening me through each challenge.

And, as I embrace my challenges more and more, they would begin to diminish in my life. This is not because there would be fewer challenges—but because I would no longer view them as such. I would see them as the life-enriching experiences they were designed to be. Maybe not quite as risky as little cows learning about fire—but certainly dwelling at the edge of my comfort zone—where life begins and I continue to march forth.

How to Ace the Ultimate Test

I hesitate to submit this post because of my irrational fear that if one solves the mystery of the Game of Life, then the game will be over---and I’m just not quite ready to “cash in my chips” as they say. However, being true to my commitment to convey what I am currently contemplating, I have little choice.

Besides, I suspect that my ramblings are no more certain than saying that the Hokey Pokey is really what it is all about. However, my theory does bear some consideration. So, on the slim chance that anyone reading this happens to share my fear, feel free to read no further. There. Disclaimer stated.

The burning question is: How can I ace the ultimate test of life? Answer: By realizing that there is no ultimate test!

Impossible, you say. Life is just one big cosmic test, and every day we must strive to get it right.  And then you die, and Peter waits at the pearly gates for the final test. There must be a test!

Oh, trust me, I am well-acquainted with the notion of life as a test. I have spent my conscious life seeking ways to “ace” it. This is also known as perfectionism. One of my earliest childhood memories involves me trying to ride a tricycle up the front sidewalk. The smooth sidewalk curved slightly and I couldn’t quite negotiate the angle. I rode into the grass and fell over. I thought to myself, “Well that was stupid. Don’t make that mistake again!” Don’t judge. And please don’t psychoanalyze me. Just know that my basic orientation to life has always been that of a big test.

As a young adult, I subscribed for years to a periodical called Bottom Line: Personal. Its subtitle was “How to Do Everything Right.” What a claim! And what an expectation of mine to think it was even possible. That notion of perfectionism remained my M.O.--my modus operandi. I continued to try to do everything right and make everyone happy.

So why this nagging belief that life might not, in fact, be a big ole cosmic test? I was reminded recently of a conversation that had caused a crack in my cosmic test notion a while back. God wanted to remind me of this crack, so He brought it up again. On both occasions, I was told of an experience where an intense spiritual encounter resulted in waves of uncontrollable laughter. Laughter! It is such an unlikely and unexpected response to a spiritual encounter, that it rings true. I believe God wanted to remind me of His magnificent, magnanimous, affirming and non-judgmental nature.

And I think, why would an intimate encounter with the divine produce spontaneous laughter—unless it turns out that life is not an ultimate test and I have been fretting and worrying for nothing? What if life is more gift than test? What if, instead of an ultimate test, we fall with absolute giddiness into the open, welcoming embrace of love?

I invite you to march forth with me into the bliss of this new M.O.

Embrace Your Natural Laziness

Is laziness a good thing or a bad thing?  Years ago, I read a book called The Importance of Being Lazy by Al Gini that makes a compelling argument in favor of laziness---but that is really not the focus of this post. I just couldn’t call it “Embrace Your Natural Laxity”—although that is what I mean to speak about. I feared the title would give the impression that I intended to speak about bodily functions.

So this reflection is all about laxity. During meditation, the other morning, I focused on the thought of relaxing in the healing presence of God—but my mind quickly minimized the thought to just the word “relax” that I breathed in and out for several minutes. What a word! Some may hear it as an invitation and others may interpret it as an admonition. But when I drew the word out slowly to two syllables, it became for me a gentle reminder.

The definition of the word relax is “to make lax or loose, less severe or strict; to reduce in intensity; relieve from effort or strain; to become less formal, aloof or tense; to take one’s ease; rest.” Everything about the word sounds lovely! It occurred to me that if I broke the word down to “re” and “lax” then it meant to go back to a lax state again—to revisit a slackened state anew.

What if we are natural-born slackers? What if relaxing means to return to our original state of non-rigidness? What if this insanely fast-paced world is, in fact, unnatural? Is it just me, or doesn’t it seem as though life is getting busier and busier—and the consensus is that it is supposed to be this way? Relaxation and vacations are anomalies.  They are valued and treasured because they are so rare.

One definition of relaxation is: “The return or adjustment of a system to equilibrium.” In other words, relaxation isn’t just something that is nice if you can get it. It may actually be the state of balance that we are intended to be in all the time. We think that productivity and industry and tension are the norm—and that a relaxed state is the exception. But what if we have it the wrong way around?

This is crazy talk, you say. Why if one is always relaxed then one is on the slippery slope to sloth—and that is deadly. I am not advocating for sloth—or even laziness in its irresponsible form. All I am saying is that we were not made to be wound up 24/7, and I am afraid that many of us have made a tense, non-relaxed state our status quo.

Structure and routine are all well and good, but I can’t help but wonder how much sweeter life would be if we could dial back the intensity and just relax. As you march forth, may you recover your lax state—and revisit it often!

She Saw No Good Reason to Act Her Age

It is a bright and shiny new year---well, just one day in! Right out of the gate I am confronted with a challenging thought: To what degree is my body holding back the potential of my mind?  It is not new that the health of the body is connected to the health of the mind.  But I am the first to admit that I spend quite a bit more time on improving my mind than my body (like 90% to 10%.) I am not proud of this fact. It is with no small measure of self-reflection that I confront this question.  

What is the origin of this challenging thought? Well, I love movies and I love free time! And so, I found myself on New Year’s Eve, watching a 2015 movie called The Age of Adaline about a woman who never grows old. Watching it wasn’t intentional. I just happened to have the movie on hand, and I just happened to have some free time to view it.

Right away I noticed that it seemed like a good choice for New Year’s Eve because the main character was born on New Year’s Day, and her life was dramatically changed one New Year’s Eve. What I wasn’t prepared for, however, was how I was struck by the image of a person whose mind continued to expand with no obstacles to her physical body. I began to wonder…if we really took care of our bodies to the best of our ability, would it free our minds to reach their greatest potential?

The premise of the story was that a freakish near-death experience had caused a young woman to stop aging at 29 years. Adaline continued to grow in wisdom and knowledge while her body remained the same. She spoke multiple languages and was well-versed in historical facts (presumably because she had lived through them.) I wasn’t sure if she was so brilliant by nature or by the fact that her body never slowed her down.

New years prompt us to consider renewed health and fitness goals. I wonder how a person might navigate life much more gracefully if one’s body didn’t break down. And not just gracefully—but more mentally powerfully. This notion fascinates me. Take away the challenge of adapting to an aging body, and the sky is the limit for intellectual growth.

Since it is unrealistic to plan on a freakish near-death experience to arrest the physical aging process, the next best thing is to take very good care of our physical bodies. I know that the aging process is inevitable---with the obvious exception of death. In the time I have remaining, I accept the challenge to make every effort to allow my mind to thrive in a body that is not an obstacle to my personal growth. On January 1st--I went on a bike ride!

Grateful to a random movie to remind me of the mind-body connection, I am marching forth to a better tomorrow!