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Tuesday, November 28, 2017

SHOW UP (WALKING WITH PAIN)

Quick sketch by my son of the hospital atmosphere
My dad has been hospitalized for almost a month.
He's pretty special to me-but he's also complicated.
He's a grandfather to many but I'm 
(of course) 
focused primarily on my little family.
Nothing is more terrifying to children than seeing a beloved adult
buried in wires, machines and sterilized blankets;
knowing that there are hard choices ahead with no guarantees.
My kids adore him and since they are kids, 
they really want all of this to stop so we can get back
to normal.
In the past month, my kids have
morphed between two exaggerated caricatures of themselves.
One version has each kid with 
big, pleading, anime eyes
and 
the other version casts them as 
cranky, irritated and entitled creatures.
They are scared so they keep trying anything to shake us 
out of this nightmare they woke up inhabiting.
It's not working but they keep trying.
And the questions!
The questions just don't stop.

Is Pop going to die?
Is he going to lose his foot?
Will he be able to walk again?
How long will he be there?
Why is he so tired?
How did he get to this point?
Why didn't someone stop him?
Why are hospitals so awful?
Why do WE have to go to the hospital?
When will you be back from the hospital?
Who will feed us?
And inevitably...will you ever look like that?
Will we have to navigate this pain with you mom? dad?
Catching the view from the (hospital) room

I don't avoid.
It is not my way.
We have a family riddled with denial and addiction and dysfunction.
I can't afford to let them pick randomly from
the examples around them to 
emulate a path towards life.
They might not find their way out.
So I do my job and coach them through it.

Here is what I say:

Your pain will always hurt EXACTLY that much.
It will be there waiting for you-
it is patient and relentless and yours.
Lots of people will sell you quick tickets
to get away from pain but it is a scam.
There is no antidote.

Pain is a companion to this life
because it is the price of participation.
The amount of pain you feel is directly in proportion 
to the amount of life you experience.

It cannot be reduced, reused or given away.
If your dog dies, 
your marriage ends, 
you get fired, 
your parent forgets your name-
the amount of pain you feel has already been prescribed.

You cannot run from it
hide from it,
convert it,
or bargain with it.
Pain is pain.


Showing Up

What mitigates pain?

Pain can't be changed into something else.
There is only one thing that I know
that will mitigate pain.
A chaser or companion 
that makes the pain more bearable.

SHOW UP.
Do not hide.
Open up that heart.
Let it break.
We need to experience that pain to grow.
We need to be present
so that we can learn what the pain does;
what it leaves behind.
Glennon says that pain is a traveling professor, here to teach us.
I say, you have to step into class for your lessons.
Get into the classroom-don't play hookie.

You can't fix most things.
Anything really.
Don't show up with that expectation.
You'll just find a new kind of pain.

Show up 
expecting nothing
and giving what you have to give.
There is something present when we show up
that helps us navigate the pain.
It doesn't diminish the pain or take it away.
It just helps us live with it.
Show up.

So when you look back
you will see
where you showed kindness and compassion
that you got up when you were scared,
that you allowed your heart to get broken,
that allowed your heart to get bigger.
I realize how many things are better
richer, more robust
because of the pain required to walk along with them.

It's going to hurt anyway
SHOW UP
so you remember where the scars came from
and why any of it mattered.
You cannot escape pain.
But you can use it to fuel transformation.
You can temper it's edge with compassion
and it gets infinitely less debilitating without 
a chaser of shame.

SHOW UP.
Even if you haven't ever shown up before.
Especially if it feels awkward and terrible and 
you do it 'wrong'.



Floral arrangement by my daughter for our Nourish group meeting.




Monday, November 20, 2017

HOW TO FAIL AT BRIDGE BUILDING

Natural bridge building?  Or demolition?

I think of myself as a bridge-builder.  
My friends and family are in a spectrum of colors, beliefs, and creeds.  
I try very hard to live out my faith by welcoming all, serving all, loving all.
I am committed to participating actively in a story 
where the over-arching theme is 
LOVE
where reconciliation and redemption and connection
 are possible. 

But I think we need to have a talk
about this important work.
Building bridges doesn't happen accidentally.
Especially if that divide is larger than your average person's hop.
Bridge building is work.

One obvious thing:  
I'm using a bridge as a metaphor for connecting humans.  
There's not a bone in my body that can build an actual bridge.  
I am the opposite of an engineer.  
I deal in words and thinking and feeling.  
On my best days, if we're talking about plants and landscape-
I can somehow magically incorporate spatial 
relationships and angles into something others can understand.  
It looks like measuring and consideration but trust me when I say...
most of my foray into design and functionality
is powered exclusively by EMOTIONAL MATH.  
Calculus, complicated densities of materials or the calculation of sine waves
 are all things I put on the mental shelf once I received 
my college degree.  Go Wolfpack! 
So if you're looking for advice on wood, stone, or steel bridge building...
you should use the next link suggestion in google.
What do you think was happening on this bridge?  Random statue of a sad guy in a sombrero?


Even though I think of myself as a bridge builder,
the struggle is REAL during this season.
Maybe during this life?
Not just the holiday season that is coming up
or the family medical crises
or the political and socio-economic upheaval
we are experiencing in America.

Bridges are falling all around.
Building new ones seems impossible some days.
It's like no one has the materials anymore.
It's hard to even build one in a community where you are right now,
among people you thought were your friends.
Many a pleasant conversation
turns into a verbal brawl 
or character assassination
based on a brief, 120 character comment.

All of these are topics that could incite a riot or
 in the least become a rallying cry for dis-owning 
your childhood best friend based on social media posts
 within my own community:
Politics (obviously right?)
National Anthems
Police Presence
Value of Life
Religion
Vaccinations
Gluten
Jeggings


The motto of most communication right now rests 
between 'Take No Prisoners' and 'Build a Wall'.

Mention that you support the NFL players' right to protest, 
and your favorite uncle is likely to flame you out on social media.  
Don't think we should speak disrespectfully of a person 
who holds the office of President? 
 Prepare to be called a red hat republican nazi.  
There is little room for gray in most of our conversations these days.  
We either don't talk about it or
 we talk only to those who hate the same things we hate 
(thanks to Brene Brown for sharing the language around that last idea).

So what do we bridge builders do
in the face of these difficulties?
We keep trying to build bridges! 
However....I find that there are times when I might think
that I'm building a bridge but I'm actually working
VERY HARD
on building something else.
Here are some insights into my personal failures.



Ways to Fail at Bridge Building:

Is this a bridge or a tower?

Build a Tower  

Basically, when you're trying to build a bridge with someone, 
you've got to remember that they are in a different place than you.  
You are not starting from the same place.
You are here.
They are far away.
Where they are is fine.
Where you are is fine.
You both like and enjoy where you are.
Bridges allow flow between those two places.
They don't eliminate one of the two places.

If your goal is to bring the other side
over to the exact spot you're currently starting in.....
you're not building a bridge.  
You're building a tower.  
There's no room for the other person in that scenario.  
There's only room for you, your opinion, your ideas, your facts.  
Towers are lonely places.
They don't expand easily
and they can be pretty rigid.
Things and people go into towers 
and often don't come out.
Bridges are ways to meet someone other than yourself. 
They are connections where people actively move in both directions. 
It is possible,
just possible
that you have something you could learn from
the person who holds a different viewpoint or opinion than you.
Bridge building is about listening,
empathy and compassion.
Not conversion.

So....
when your black friend starts posting about BLACK LIVES MATTER, 
do NOT start defending BLUE LIVES or ALL LIVES 
or how you cannot possibly be racist because you have black friends. 
Do NOT start trying to get someone converted to your opinion. 
You are missing the point.  
Ask questions, listen to the answers, try to understand.  
Step out, knowing that your bridges are meant to show you 
somewhere other than where you are right now.

Can you see what's over there?  

Use the Teleportation Strategy

Every great sci-fi universe has a way for humans arrive at 
a specific point and place without prolonged travel,
without landing on top of a small child or an old lady, and
without looking completely out of place.  
Sounds great right?
You imagine a place, pop in a couple of coordinates
makes some weird noises and TAH-DAH!
You are there!
On the other side!

Neither our science nor our attitudes 
have caught up to that level of connectivity yet.
  If your position is super far away, 
there's little chance you can see what's over there
on the other side.
Anything that you try to send over, gets dropped in the water
or lands on top of an unsuspecting bystander.  
Teleportation as a strategy in the real world
means there will be collateral damage.

How does this relate to bridge-building between humans?
Well, we can't insert our details into the middle of someone else's story
 and expect it to blend into the landscape.  
Anything we try to poke into someone else's story looks fantastical
 and definitely doesn't belong.  
It will not be accepted.
It will not be received well.   
The truth of this increases as the emotional weight 
of a topic increases. 

Here's an example I encounter often.
For many people, the role that Jesus has played
in their lives is the a story of pain, judgement, repression and/or abuse.
The Christians they have encountered
 have cemented that belief
again
and again
and again.

If I show up talking about the beauty of Jesus
how grace-filled my life has become,
how accepted I am in my brokenness
how beloved my soul is to God..
that story is too far-fetched to be accepted,
too counter to the reality that the person has experienced.
It is going to be rejected.
It doesn't fit with the other person's experience.
It cannot be over-ridden that easily.
And it should NOT be.
Bridge or wall?  How can you tell?

Let's say I insist on my facts.
My Jesus IS the only way.
My Jesus is the truth, the light.
Accept him OR ELSE.
I will be accepted...as another person trying
to repress, abuse, and harm in the name of this guy named Jesus.


I can't try and insert my story or opinions
right smack dab in the middle of someone else's story,
beat them down with my story
of hope and redemption.
That is not bridge building-that is a hallucinogenic trip.
And a bad one at that.

So what can you do?
Ask questions.
Can't think of any?
Try these:
Why do you feel that way?
What contributed to the narrative?
How could you feel loved or supported?
What do you need from me?

Acknowledge their experience.
Take yourself out of their story-because you have earned no place there.
Do not try to refute or change their understanding.
Say thank you for sharing something with me.
Bridge building takes time.
It is not a one and done conversation.
You cannot teleport in and then hop back out again.

Bridge building takes stamina...

Start on a Weak Foundation

I have done or witnessed this particular failure more often than any other.
I think it happens the most often because it has the best intentions.
People who naturally want to build bridges are also the most likely to use themselves up in the building.
Bridge building does not work when the builder is weak.
You need a strong foundation in order to extend 
a bridge over troubled water.  
You can't start on shaky ground and hope to reach the other side.  
Bridges that have a weak foundation will fall apart-
if they ever make it over at all.



You start with where you are..and you get a good solid structure.
Getting a good solid foundation takes a lot of work.
It cannot be rushed-
even if you are somehow afraid that the world is burning down 
without your assistance.
You have got to pause, take care of yourself first
BEFORE
You can take one step towards work on a bridge.
You need a community who loves you.
You need extreme self-care practices at the ready.
You need to be safe in your own skin without the bridge.
Everything cannot depend on making this bridge.

What does that mean in real life?  
It means that if you're already unhinged at the annual 
Thanksgiving gathering, already tired and over-whelmed....
then you should not attempt bridge-building when Great-Aunt Betty starts comparing gay marriage to the early days of Sodom and Gomorrah.
You should walk away.
You should maybe write about it later.
Or have another conversation.
If you engage when you are not solidly supported,
there will be no bridge.  
There will just be a shock and awe attack with your 
previously beloved Great-Aunt Betty on one side (with her pecan pie)
and you feeling shame and horror on the other. 
And the bridges that existed before
will now also be shaky-maybe even broken.
Sometimes you need to be above and removed for the bridge to be built-and that is OK!

It means that 
sometimes you have to save bridge building for another day.
Sometimes you have to say 'Bless your heart'
or tag in your friend who is thoughtful and well-rested.
You cannot build a bridge without solid footing.

It even means that some kinds of bridges will
be forbidden to you.
If you've been traumatized by something
sexual abuse, racism, addiction....
you may not be able to work on building bridges there.
You may be so hurt and triggered that there is no way for you
to build that bridge.
Ever.

Do the work on your foundation.
Then see where the bridges are needed
that you are able to work on.
There are enough bridges that need to be built
and you don't have to build them all.

Wherever you are on your journey
I hope you have peace and support through the coming season.
We need more bridges than ever before.
We need to set these bridges to be strong.
So do what it takes to do it right.

This is a bridge too...amiright?  






Friday, November 03, 2017

DADDY LESSONS



My dad has been hospitalized for about a week with a 
life threatening medical situation.
The current situation is a culmination of his life choices, 
his experiences, and his pathology.
All of this was preventable
but none of it was preventable by the person that he is.

It's made me reflect on the ways that we understand our parents
the context that they have for us
and how the view of a parent evolves and matures as we do.

This post is sort of a portrait of the man who is my father-
but I fully recognize that this is only one of the facets of him-
not the sum total of him or even how others see him.
He's beloved.
He's human.
He's complicated.
My PawPaw and my 15 year old Dad.

My dad is a high-functioning alcoholic.
He is a passionately dedicated smoker.
He is a lover of all salted pork products and doughnuts.
He is a product of his generation and place....
where men worked hard, lived harder, and died happy.

He thinks exercising as a purposeful activity is stupid.
He actually thinks lots of things are stupid.
Hobbies, fiction, non-fried vegetables, TV preachers and politicians.
That's the word he uses...stupid.
But he says it like sch-TEEEEW-pid.
With feeling and finality.

He was a custodial engineer for 20 years with a school system.
That is a fancy way of saying he was a janitor.
Before that, he was a sewing machine repairman in textile mills.
Like everyone else in our family and our area during that time.
During the week, he worked 12 hour shifts.
On the weekends, he mowed, gardened and chopped wood-
in 12 hour shifts.
Until this year, I have never known a time that he was not physically active.
So I guess that is why exercise makes no sense to him.
Who needs to practice lifting and hauling?
Only lazy people in his mind.
My Dad and me circa 1975.
Two years ago, he had a stroke and was hospitalized for about a week.
Before that, he had been to see a doctor twice in his adult life.
Twice.
Once to get a general physical required to get his custodial engineer job.
One more time as a follow up to that appointment.
And then never again until the stroke.
He didn't go when his breathing sounded like a car back-firing 
for an entire winter.
He didn't go when he broke his wrist at his grand-daughter's roller skating party.
He didn't go when his legs hurt while he waxed the floor at school
or when he ached as much in the morning as when he went to bed at night.
This time around in the hospital, he's getting his first ever doses of antibiotics.
Can you imagine?
He has never had a z-pack.
Never.

Dad's first ever hospital visit-it was scary but not as scary as this one.

He is a creature of obsessive habits.
Any change in his routine is a red flag.
He prescribed himself a regulated amount of alcohol for years.
During the week, he had six beers nightly.  
On weekends or holidays, he might have 12.
Very rarely did he change his consumption by more than 
one or two beers
which is how we knew something was wrong two years ago
 when he had a stroke.
He forgot to drink.


He gets up at 8 and goes to bed around 9.
Always.
He watches the Young and the Restless every day.
Every Day.
He gets up in the morning 
and drives to the gas station to get a
biscuit, a paper and a pack of cigarettes.
Every day.
Until recently.

Halloween in the 80s-he was a very padded,happy clown.
He is vain.
In spite of his dislike of doctors, he will happily go to the dentist.
He wants his hair and beard trimmed.
He keeps an NC State cap perched on his bald head at all times.
He likes his person and his house to be neat and tidy.
He has incredibly blue eyes and refuses to wear glasses.
He can see fine thank you very much
while he holds a paper out 2 feet from his face.

In fact...he is always 'FINE'.
That is code for leave me alone.
He is fiercely independent and does not want anyone looking at him.
As a child, he had a speech impediment and was weak and sickly.
He can still be hyper-sensitive about being the focus of attention.
He will go to great lengths
including ignoring his own health 
to keep people from interfering in his routine or 
badgering him, or being a burden.
He is the single most stubborn human I've ever met.

He is superstitious and a constant worrier.
Watch out for thunderstorms on the way to work SugarBear....
(what will I do if I encounter a thunderstorm exactly?)
Do you have enough gas?  Don't ever let it get below half a tank.
Are the eyes on the stove off?
Did you check?
Is the iron plugged in?
Go back and see.

Be careful.
Be safe.
You're getting on a plane to where?
Are you crazy?
Watch out for snakes, fast cars, hateful men, spicy food, 
citrus fruit, loud noises, illnesses.
Be careful.
Me and Dad last Thanksgiving
He is careful.
Full of care.
He is tenderhearted and gracious.
I have watched him all week in this hospital be kind to people 
who are putting him through his literal idea of hell.
Needles, doctors, foreign surroundings, IVs and alarms that beep
loudly for no apparent reason.
Plus they took his clothes (except his NC State cap).
You could not craft a more terrifying experience for him.

And yet....
When he has nothing nice to say...even in hell...he shuts up.
Occasionally he makes a joke about his pain or discomfort.
He has convinced all his nurses to make him milkshakes.
And ignore his steady intake of cookies and Halloween candy 
given by the grandkids.
He is pleasant and welcoming.
He is gracious.
He is full of grace.

He has a deep, deep voice and when I was little, 
I was scared of him.
He's often super serious-even when delivering a joke.
And when I was little...he was sooo big.
A giant at 5'7".
Until I figured out that he is the sweetest of the sweet.
He has several shotguns but he hasn't killed a deer in 40 years.
He will eat what others hunt but he can't bring himself 
to kill something so beautiful.
He taught me how to do a dove call with my hands cupped,
how to sucker a tomato,
how to honor a moment,
and how to turn the other cheek.

He recently told me that he is a Presbyterian.
This cracks me up because I've seen him willingly inside 
a church only at weddings.
But he said it so seriously so I will have to take him at his word.
Presbyterian he is.

I have called him a redneck Buddhist since my early twenties when his 
advice to a bad breakup was....
"I sure did like that boy but...he will reap what he sowed.
Just watch and see SugarBear.  
What goes around comes around.  
I know your heart is broken but better to know the truth. 
You take care of you.  
The world will take care of that boy."
He was right.

He has never said one word about my mother
that wasn't calm and supportive and saving room for a child's love.
She's my mother and he will always honor her to me.
Not because she deserves it by her behavior to him
but because to do less would be forsaking his job of Dad.
That he can maintain that perspective after
everything my mother has done to him and to our family
is something I would love to be able to emulate.
He is a father and a grandfather extraordinaire.
Dad and 15 year old me

He graduated high school as his highest level of formal education.
He doesn't have a checking account or a credit card.
He carefully tracks and regulates his spending-never going outside of his means.
He despises travel-
anything farther than an hour or so is not really worth seeing.
Not if you have to be away from home and routine.
Not if you have to eat strange things.
But when there is something that he wants to know or understand
he can be quietly relentless.
When I told him I planned to go to college, 
he asked me why I would want to do such a thing.
And then...he became incredibly engaged in what I was studying.
He would ask about my subjects and then find 
articles or information to talk about on my breaks.
When I worked for a startup in the dotcom glory days, 
he educated himself about stock options.
If it comes on the news, he will know it.
If it sparks his interest, he will dig deeper.  
How he manages to dig deeper I haven't figured out 
yet since he doesn't know how to use a computer.
He's probably a genius-although he really 
hopes you don't figure it out.

It took a long time for us to sort out the disaster of my childhood.
He is incredibly patient and kind...
and as a dad, he just tried to do the next, right thing.
Sometimes he screwed up.
But most often...he was brilliant-even though I didn't know it.
He held the light for me so I could find the path of 
LOVE
when everything around me was dark.
He's complicated.
But he's also the best.

Current view of my dad.  All prayers for him are appreciated.