2011: The Year of New and Renewed Friendships

In looking back over the past year I realize even more how necessary friendship is for personal contentment.

Many years ago when I was in college I saw a production of Stephen Sondheim's A Little Night Music. That musical is a study in triads and trios. All of the music is in 3/4 time (like waltzes) and the story lines explore relationships among three individuals, three combinations of individuals, and three compelling identities.

For example, Anne and Frederick are newly married, although Anne is apprehensive to consumate the marriage while Frederick muses over his past love Desiree.

In the background, Henrik, Frederick's son plays the cello which both charms and irritates Anne, who is closer in age to Henrik than to her new husband.

So: Anne/Frederick/Desiree; Anne/Frederick/Henrick. The musical continues to play out scenarios of couples comprised of individuals who each long for just a bit more. It is an elegant tale of the hope for having one's cake and eating it too.

What I remember most about that particular production was the elegance of the choreography. The stage hands--those folks who do the set changes between scenes--were dressed in formal wear and for each set change danced while moving furniture and other set properties.

The metaphor of elegance was woven throughout that production. While the quality of relationships ebbed and flowed, no one was visibly injured. The musical is robust with disappointments, embarrassing moments, and even regrets. But the characters take life's surprises with dignity--and they allow others the same grace.

Healthy social lives should include enough room to take risks, love passionately, make mistakes, and grow--all without the bother of cheap shots from onlookers.

During 2011 I grew a lot. Late in 2010 a social network friend, Mark had a bad break up with his partner. He posted on Facebook a brief, but poignant statement about that devastation. Although we only knew each other from FB, I felt compelled to reach out to Mark, and so began an important friendship which culminated (thus far) to my traveling out of state to meet and enjoy a lovely dinner with him. That friendship came about because of mutual trust and openness to being fully present, even with a stranger.

Later in 2011 I struck up a conversation with an acquaintance from my gym. A casual conversation uncovered mutual feelings of wandering through life--two guys in midlife trying to remember our purposes. From that conversation came a renewed commitment to running, hundreds of miles on the streets of Grand Rapids at all hours of the early morning, several 5Ks, a 10K, and a half marathon with each of us making PRs. There is no more important friendship in my life now than the one I have with my running buddy.

I also enjoyed rekindling a great college relationship with my lovely and inspiring friend, Breisa. We bantered back and forth on FB and through email about running, Buddhism, health, the amazing things that happen on life's journey, and memories of college. In the late summer we had the wonderful, but sad opportunity to meet up at our college homecoming. Sadly, the homecoming also included a memorial service for our beloved faculty member, Dr. Lawerence Campbell, a brilliant pianist who died too young. 

Somewhere in the midst of the year I also struck up a friendship heightened by an ongoing thread of email about life, relationships, running, balance with another Mark. A remarkable athlete whose sensitivity, insight, and humility all inspire me to listen more, run harder, and be true to my intuition.

There are many other friends who I've not mentioned here who each contribute to my renewed sense of wholeness. My partner, all those at IWU's homecoming that I reconnected with, Jack, who continues to be a shining star in my heart, Art whose daily patience is miraculous...my life is a joyful combination of the good of many.

I began this post with a comment about trios and that theme is present in my life: my morning life, or what is sometimes jokingly referred to as my "Westside Life;" my work life, and my home life. These three aspects of me bring balance. The Westside Life includes running through Grand Rapids' culturally complex Polish and Lithuanian westside, my love of the Westsider Diner, and my (new) membership to a Polish hall. My work life is equally necessary--I love my work, my colleagues, the students and the mission of GRCC. And my home life is a miracle...nearly 20 years with John, hosting such a cast of wonderful friends throughout the years, our Chihuahuas and cat...it just doesn't get any better. These three sides of me each make my life grand.

2011's lessons:

Friendship and love are always right in front of us. We need only notice those moments, those opportunities. Too often, I think, we get caught up in replaying drama, telling stories of little horrors from the day--what went wrong at work, what family member acted out, what feeling got hurt. In 2012 take time to notice the abundance of love and friendship in the world. Take time to offer a hand to someone...and reach up and allow yourself to accept a hand when it's extended.

Goals for 2012

Big Life Stuff
My theme for 2012 is moderation and simplicity. I've found that I just carry too much stuff around...physically and mentally. I overpack my briefcase and overthink my ideas and concerns. Someone, I think Jack Kornfield said, "Our minds are like busy tourists. Shopping for things unnecessary to pack into closets already full." In 2012 I will strive to minimize, cut back, simplify, and bring clarity to situations. I also will purge closets, file cabinets, and online folders. And clean my desk more often.

Food & Fitness
During 2011 I discovered a new joy in being outdoors. Once a fan of treadmills and television, I now run outside almost every day. On days when weather is just too nasty, I run the indoor track, but even that takes a lot of patience (and good company!). To more fully take advantage of this new found appreciation of being outside, I'm going camping in 2012. Perhaps a long weekend with a destination run as the centerpiece.

I need to drop some pounds. Calorie Counter says I should weigh 124, which seems impossibly light to me. I'm aiming for 140, which means losing 17 lbs. A breakdown of a healthy plan would look like this:

Daily Calorie Goal: 2041
Carbs: 1020
Protein: 510
Fats: 510

To accomplish this goal I will eat at least one fruit or low-starch vegetable at breakfast, lunch, and dinner. And I'm making a commitment to "three-days dry" per week...probably Mondays, Tuesdays, and Thursdays will be no-booze days. The pounds and puffiness are just not worth it.

I'll also drink at least 2 cups of green tea 5 days a week. It's supposed to boost metabolism and has a bunch of other good qualities...and it's easy. So, I'm in!

I need more Omega-3. And since I can't eat fish, I'm going for walnuts. But just a basic serving size, which is 1 ounce or 14 halves.

And more milk. I rarely drink milk, although I like it. I just need to get in the habit. Maybe every night before bed.

Finally, I'm going to lift or do some sort of weight training at least twice a week. Gaining muscle boosts metabolism and helps shed pounds.

I will run at least 3 5Ks, 3 10Ks, and two longer races--probably half-marathons. I'm already registered for the Fifth Third River Bank Run which is a 25K. And, along with Jeff, I've set a finish goal of 2:28. I'm also aiming for at least one destination run...maybe San Francisco next December so that we can see our friend, Kien and get back to the homeland.

Thinking and Writing
I am striving to write more...and have at least one manuscript published.

I also will get more organized at work. This past year I had a change of assignment, which expanded my responsibilities. I can do everything I've been asked, but the changes really disrupted my rhythm...so I will implement a better plan that blocks out time for the most essential  tasks. I can control my calendar.

I have a great stack of books to read...I'll get those done one-by-one.

Being Present
I'm not as thoughtful as I could be about spending money or anything to do with financial planning. During 2012 I will be more attentive to spending wisely, saving money and being frugal. Sorry, American Express.

My morning runs have become my time for meditation. But, while I am delighted with the changes in running, I need to set time aside to meditate and to listen to some of the great podcasts on Zencast.

I also need to see Jack...so a trip to Lakeland is on the list, too.

Finally
I'll keep at least bi-weekly posts on my progress with these goals. And I look forward to some coaching!

Prayer of an Anonymous Abbess

“Prayer of an Anonymous Abbess:

Lord, thou knowest better than myself that I am growing older and will soon be old. Keep me from becoming too talkative, and especially from the unfortunate habit of thinking that I must say something on every subject and at every opportunity.

Release me from the idea that I must straighten out other peoples' affairs. With my immense treasure of experience and wisdom, it seems a pity not to let everybody partake of it. But thou knowest, Lord, that in the end I will need a few friends.

Keep me from the recital of endless details; give me wings to get to the point.

Grant me the patience to listen to the complaints of others; help me to endure them with charity. But seal my lips on my own aches and pains -- they increase with the increasing years and my inclination to recount them is also increasing.

I will not ask thee for improved memory, only for a little more humility and less self-assurance when my own memory doesn't agree with that of others. Teach me the glorious lesson that occasionally I may be wrong.

Keep me reasonably gentle. I do not have the ambition to become a saint -- it is so hard to live with some of them -- but a harsh old person is one of the devil's masterpieces.

Make me sympathetic without being sentimental, helpful but not bossy. Let me discover merits where I had not expected them, and talents in people whom I had not thought to possess any. And, Lord, give me the grace to tell them so.

Amen”

Margot Benary-Isbert

How Wide Should the Path Be?

Over the past month or so several friends have asked me questions. The list below summarizes the questions:

• How do we balance close friendships with marriage or partnership?
• How do I get my social needs met without marring my primary relationship?
• How do I have intimacy, commitment, and passion in friendships that complement--not threaten the intimacy, commitment, and passion in my romantic relationship?
• Is it fair to be asked to choose one over the other?

I've asked myself many of these same questions...

Of course there is no one right response to any of these very complex questions. Because the questions jog around in my mind and heart, I've decided to offer some random thoughts, though.

All of us benefit from having several close friendships. Friendship has been shown to prolong life, increase quality of life, and decrease stress and occurrences of illness.

Relationships...romantic, friendships...even work relationships have three components:

1. Intimacy--the feelings of connectedness that we have without effort--that we just click;
2. Passion--the unstoppable physical reactions that we have to one another. Be it a shared sense of humor or sexual--it doesn't matter--it's the naturalness of it that is important;
3. Commitment--the part that happens in our heads--the active decision to call the relationship something...best friends, running buddies, lover, partner, spouse...to give the relationship a public name.

The combination of any two of these determines the type of relationship we have. But I think it's necessary that the two in the relationship understand the relationship in the same way. If one partner experiences commitment, but no passion or intimacy while the other feels passion, but no commitment nor intimacy...well...you get the picture.

Adaptability
Relationships gain strength when they have elasticity...the ability to stretch to accommodate the changes that partners experience. This is just like birth. The bones have to have some flexibility to allow new life to emerge. It hurts...the benefits are greater than the pain. But monitoring the relationship(s) [i.e., friendships, romantic relationships, family, etc] is necessary. Active reflection allows for growth.

Trust is good
And complex. Each couple or individual has to determine the parameters of relationships. And we all change over time. So, the longer-term the relationship, the more complex the enactment of trust. Trust is built over time, but all couples make mistakes....so the level of resiliency within the couple will ebb and flow. This experience allows for strength to develop. Strong relationships have endured successes and failures. We learn about ourselves and one another by allowing for trial and error. Are some mistakes unrecoverable? Perhaps. The partners of each romantic relationship decide that.

Joy in life is necessary
It has to come from somewhere. It may come from many sources. I believe it is necessary to develop the ability to notice joy--opening the door for someone, offering a smile, helping a stranger with groceries...being in awe of nature. I myself find joy in my surroundings while running. One morning earlier this week it was foggy and misty, with occasional mist. The Grand River looked like glass; the yellow, orange, red leaves on the autumn trees was magnificent. Yesterday during our run around Reeds Lake it was sunny, unusually warm for a November Michigan morning...there were many runners out, the sun was brilliant, the lower Bonnell trail muddy from the melted snow. Some runners might choose to focus purely on their running--pace, gait, breaths per minute. But many, perhaps most notice the scenery.

Having daily joy brings life to life. Never ignore opportunities for cultivating joy.

Talk
Talk. Then talk some more. Words have such healing power...struggling to find the right ones cultivates compassion--for self and others. It is good to be silent sometimes, but language is water and sunshine to relationships.

Breathe.
Be selfish...take time every day to indulge in something for yourself. Have a peppermint patty, go out and get a milkshake...take time to read...whatever...you rejuvenate when you have time alone.

Generosity
Be friends with others. Share an apple fritter with a buddy. Practice being kind. Developing the skill of generosity is a good thing. Share your skills, knowledge, wisdom, company with others...


Relationships are always complex. Don't be scared. And don't accept bad relationships. You deserve the best.

“A person isn't who they are during the last conversation you had with them - they're who they've been throughout your whole relationship.”
― Rainer Maria Rilke

Taste Every Ounce of Friendship

“Live. And Live Well.

BREATHE. Breathe in and Breathe deeply.

Be PRESENT. Do
not be past. Do not be future. Be now.

On a crystal clear, breezy 70 degree day,
roll down the windows and

FEEL the wind against your skin. Feel the warmth of
the sun.

If you run, then allow those first few breaths on a cool Autumn day to

FREEZE your lungs and do not just be alarmed, be ALIVE.

Get knee-deep in a novel
and LOSE track of time.

If you bike, pedal HARDER and if you crash then crash
well.

Feel the SATISFACTION of a job well done-a paper well-written, a project
thoroughly completed, a play well-performed.

If you must wipe the snot from your
3-year old's nose, don't be disgusted if the Kleenex didn't catch it all

because soon he'll be wiping his own.

If you've recently experienced loss, then
GRIEVE. And Grieve well.

At the table with friends and family, LAUGH.

If you're
eating and laughing at the same time, then might as well laugh until you puke.

And if you eat, then SMELL.

The aromas are not impediments to your day. Steak on
the grill, coffee beans freshly ground, cookies in the oven.

And TASTE.

Taste every ounce of flavor.

Taste every ounce of friendship.

Taste every ounce of Life.

Because-it-is-most-definitely-a-Gift.”

Kyle Lake

Friendship as Art

As in all the arts, there is complexity in friendship. Artistotle wrote,

“What is a friend? A single soul dwelling in two bodies.”

We sometimes meet those individuals who, if and as we let them get to know us and we them, seem to be variations on the theme that we use to identify ourselves. I have several close friends...you know who you are, so I won’t call each of you out. These are friends with whom I can completely relax; speak freely, imagine anything, and in whom I seek wisdom and comfort. Not (necessarily) the comfort that is need-based (although sometimes that is the case). But more often, that comfort me when the world seems chaotic or peevish.

These are moments when I don’t need the comfort that comes from good advice, but rather the comfort that arises when one feels deeply understood. As if my best friends have had exactly the same feeling that I’ve had or am having. The mystical treasured moment that announces, “You’re not alone.”

Discovering friends is an art more than a skill. Beyond the mechanics of making friends, perhaps like we did as children, the art of friendship requires
spontaneity,
the ability to be vulnerable,
trust,
and a willingness to take new journeys--through ones’ mind and heart and through new roads, trails, and pathways.

Through friendships--deep friendships (which I find more and more don’t need years to develop--just attention and sincerity)--I’ve discovered characteristics of myself previously uncovered.


I believe in the permeability of being--that we are all connected in some way--through sharing air, the Earth, the sunshine, the reflective light of moonfall...by the sound waves made by our speech, by music, the crash of the ocean, the barking of a dog; the cries of babies. Events, sounds, and experiences that we have on our own, but rarely by ourselves.

We are woven together.

When we discover the particular knots in this net of social connectivity, we can linger, feeling the complexity of the various threads that hold us together in deep friendships. Friendships that go beyond description.

GR Half-Marathon: PR

1:59:45...15 seconds to spare!

After 12 weeks of training, I clipped nearly 10 minutes off my previous best half-marathon time (2:08:06 in the 2006 GR Half). I can't list everything I learned, but here are a few highlights:http://running.about.com/od/faqsforbeginners/f/personalrecord.htm

1. Get a plan and stick to it, but don't be controlled by it. Jeff and I found a plan at Coolrunning.com. Because of work schedules we agreed to get the total number of weekly miles in, but we allowed ourselves to mix the days up. We ran 5-6 days per week usually beginning at 4:30 AM. And we did most of our long runs on Wednesdays or Fridays--before going to work. That built some good stamina.
2. Eat well. We both had goal weights and we made them. But we also paid reasonable attention to nutrition--eating good amounts of protein and trying our best to not skip meals. Being a vegetarian, I had to plan for protein--so lots of eggs and protein shakes helped.
3. Have fun. We had great morning runs with anyone who would join us...Kelly, Tracy 1 and Tracy 2, Rose...anyone who wanted to tag along. We also took the plan seriously, but the running lightly. We laughed, told long stories, and ran fast enough to work, but not so much that we got cranky.
4. Keep a social life! We ate breakfast together a few times a week and tried to have at least one trip to Founders every week.
5. Build up a support network. We were surrounded by good advice and friendship. Bryan, Mark H., Mark W., Mike, Bresia, Johan, Gary, and many more offered suggestions, tips, and plenty of recommendations. And of course, John, Art, and Tish who put up with our schedules, picking up the household slack. Don't underestimate the generosity of partners, wives, and friends!
6. Give yourself permission to run the run the way you can. In the beginning I couldn't do hills. Legs were strong, but lungs weren't cutting it. Jeff ran ahead coaching me up the hill and then walking with me for a block to catch my breath. I promptly went to my allergist who gave me a new regime of meds...hills got manageable. Jeff occasionally had a knee or hip glitch. We just stopped and walked. Our mantra was friendship first, then fun, then competition...we knew that in races that it was every runner for themselves. We started together and then went at our own paces (he's the faster guy). But during training, we went out as a duo. 
7. Throw in some fun run races. We did a 10K and a 5K along the way. Because we grew accustomed to early morning runs (i.e., no sun and no heat), these daytime races gave us some good experiences running at  8:30 AM and 6:00 PM. We even placed in the top 10 of the 5K! (Well, there were only 47 runners, but still...Jeff came in 7th and I, 10th).
8. Get your long runs in no matter what. We ran in wind, rain, cold, and sunshine. Our longest run planned was 15 miles. That morning there was a wind gust advisory and rain. We knew we wouldn't do 15, but we did get in 11. And two days later, with much better weather, we did the 15 mile run in warm sunshine. Five miles were fun and easy, the middle 5 were work, and the last 5 were taxing...but we did it...and those made the difference.
9. Enjoy the race! Race day was rainy and cool. But...we had done that, so we were ready. And, by the time we got to the start, the rain had stopped. Because we had done plenty of prep and homework, we were ready. Dressed properly, with Sports Wax, Vaseline, Sports Beans, and light breakfast eaten 3 hours before the start (run hungry, but not on empty)...and with new shoes (thanks, Mike and Mark!), we took off.
10. Know that the race is work. I broke the race into three 4.5 mile segments. The first segment was fine, even quick. The middle was solid; the last segment got hard. By mile 11 I hurt...a lot. I turned my mind off and just kept at it. I knew that I could come in under 2 hours...and I did
11. Celebrate! Along the way and after. Art and John were at the finish; my buddy Jim tagged me at mile 11 (just when I needed him or someone to pull me along!). Vikki cheered me from the sidelines. Marathon Don was there shaking my hand (and 6,000 others). Mike and Mark were at mile 1 and then again along the way on their bikes--and sending me congratulatory emails. There was beer! And my mom joined all of us for a celebration brunch at Rose's that included the treat of seeing Pilar.
12. Recover. I took it pretty easy for the rest of the day, even taking a nap. But this morning, I went to spin class to move my legs, see friends, including Jeff and getting back on the path.
13. Set another goal. Once a week throughout the winter we're running Reeds Lake--in whatever weather is handed to us. And I'll try to get 20-30 miles in each week.

Persist!

You are capable of more than you know. Choose a goal that seems right for you and strive to be the best, however hard the path. Aim high. Behave honorably. Prepare to be alone at times, and to endure failure. Persist! The world needs all you can give.

E. O. Wilson

Tapering

This photo is of the Grand River, which provides the backdrop for the start and finish of the Metro Health Grand Rapids Marathon. One week away, my mind dances among thinking of my friends who are running the Chicago Marathon today, what the weather will be like for the GR Marathon next week, and tapering.

Tapering...it might as well just be called "a time for anxiety." This is normal, so I'm told. It seems that all the energy and fatigue runners build up from intentionally pushing hard for 12 weeks leaves us jittery with unused energy when we pull back on the miles.

I've built up to running between 36 and 51 miles per week. Now I have to be content with fewer than 20 miles this week. Some say don't run at all. It feels like withdrawal. And I'm sure it is. Running releases endorphins...chemicals in the brain that reduce stress, anxiety, and even depression. So drastically cutting back on miles may increase the likelihood of moodiness (which my partner will confirm).

Here are my goals for this week's taper:

1. Rest and sleep. Perhaps rest is most important, because sleep patterns, at least mine, are hard to change. I like getting up at 3:45 AM and enjoying the morning. With or without a run, I'll continue to get up early. But, I'll invest in some walking, some cross-training, and at least 20 minutes of meditation. Keep monkey mind at bay.
2. Eat well. A few more carbs, a little healthy fat, and a balance of protein. And cut back on the booze.
3. Stay social. I'm surrounded by such amazing runners and athletes. It's my nature to isolate when I get stressed. This week, I'm hitting the gym every day and soaking up the good energy. I'm also checking in with my other running buddies around the country.
4. Set post-race goals. Jeff and I have already made a pact to run Reeds Lake once a week throughout the winter. I'm also treating myself to some new shoes.

 Tapering is a part of this path. I'm gonna face it with as much commitment as I have the training plan.

Simplicity

Simplicity, originally uploaded by michiganzen.

“I've heard it said that people come into our lives for a reason
Bringing something we must learn
And we are led to those who help us most to grow
If we let them and we help them in return.”
― Stephen Schwartz

Conquering the Long Run

“I do not believe that sheer suffering teaches. If suffering alone taught, all the world would be wise, since everyone suffers. To suffering must be added mourning, understanding, patience, love, openness, and the willingness to remain vulnerable.”

― Anne Morrow Lindbergh, Gift from the Sea 

At noon yesterday Jeff and I finally left the Y to head out for our 15-mile long run--the longest run scheduled on this training plan.  The weather couldn't have been better. Low 50s, sunny skies, and light breezes. We wore tights (for the compression), long sleeves...we had a packet of Hammer Gel to share and a bag of sports beans; Jeff had stashed water and Gatorade at our 10-mile marker.

The first 5 miles was just right. We chatted, ran along the Grand River to West River Drive where we stopped for our water break. We took off from there to White Pine Trail to head up to  Fifth Third Ballpark. Our buddy Mike told us to keep running until we smelled Wendy's...that would be 7.5 and then we could turn around. We passed Burger King and wondered if Mike got his fast food smells mixed up. Nonetheless, we kept running. Sure enough we entered an invisible cloud that smelled of grease and bacon. Wendy's was in sight! We stopped to celebrate by sharing our Hammer Gel and took off again for the trek back.

About 2 miles into the return, so approximately 9.5 miles, the reality of a really long run kicked in. Jeff, as he always does, ran faster when it got tough...I followed, slower than Jeff, but keeping an even pace. We made it back to the 10-mile mark--stopping for the last time to grab some water and Gatorade from our stash. We took a couple of minutes to regroup and took off for the last five miles.

We made it to Riverside Park, noting that we only had to get to the Shell station on Monroe and Ann and then to Leonard Avenue and back to the Y. By the time we passed the Shell station, our legs were heavy and persistent pain moved in. Not feet, knees, or hips--everything...we just kept going.

My strategy is to welcome the pain...make room for it...observe it...anything but act like its not there. The pain of running is as much a part of the experience as the beauty of the Grand River, the breeze, the sunshine...we just all have to get along in our reality.

We both made mention of our discomfort, but we kept at it..."take a step, take another, then do that again," I chanted as we kept our pace. Jeff practically cheered when we could see the Varnum Building--our reminder that the Y was just beyond. We took a walk break over the 6th Street Bridge, then sprinted along the River Walk...dancing around the ArtPrize tourists...knowing that we were within a mile of the Y. We made it to O'Tooles, but didn't let up...until we made it to the parking lot of the Y. A high-five, shared pats on the back and some mild swearing ensued...but we were ecstatic to have completed the long run.

After a quick shower, we headed to Founders!

Prepping for the Wind and Rain: Lessons in Adaptability

Jeff and I planned a 15-mile run for yesterday, but two obstacles resulted in a revised goal: a daunting forecast of rain with a high-wind advisory and a change in work schedule requiring Jeff to be at work by 7 AM. So, we adapted, deciding on a 10 mile run that would begin at 4:30 AM--rain or not. We couldn't avoid the work-schedule requirement, but we could face up to running in the rain and wind.

In preparation for the inevitable I did my homework and came up with this list of precautions for running in wet weather:

1. Lube up. Especially feet. They will be wet, no doubt. Wet feet are more likely to blister and chafe than dry feet--keep a film of Vaseline between skin and socks.

2. Once you're wet, you're wet...it won't get worse, so just settle into the feeling.

3. Be careful to not slip on wet pavement, bricks, branches, flattened squirrels, leaves, etc. Falling is bad.

4. Unless it is torrentially bad (lightning, and persistently dangerous winds--that can lead to falling branches) go for it. Every runner has to run in the rain at some point (and we have, several times in the past few months ran through summer showers).

5. Dress in wicking layers.

6. No cotton on your head--it will get soggy and heavy.

7. Gloves are probably a good idea. Choose gloves that will protect from moisture and are appropriate for the temperature. In the early fall when the temperature is just cool I wear a light pair of running socks--I always have an extra pair and they are cheap--and lighter than my running gloves.

8. Have a back-up plan. We decided to shift our 15-miler to Sunday or even Tuesday--something early in the week so that we could still be faithful to our taper.

9. If you're planning for a half-marathon and you're up to 15 miles, you're really, really ready even if circumstances stop you from the longest run on your schedule!

10. Remember why you're there. A running plan should not be a set of rigid rules. Running (unless you're a professional competitor) is supposed to be for fun, friendship, and fitness. If your plan leads to stress, then you might re-think why you're running in the first place.

And so, with all that in mind, we ran. The temperature was chilly, but we were ready. And, remarkably, it was wet and windy, but not raining when we set out. We trekked along our route--through the city and out to Riverside Park, then on to West River Drive where Jeff had stashed a couple bottles of water for us. We had a few showers and some heavy gusts, but nothing dangerous. We returned to the Y in plenty of time for some steam, good chat with friends, and for both of us to get to work without too much hurrying. 

Oh, and our 10-miler turned out to be 11 miles...15 might happen tomorrow. We're ready.





The photo for this post is from last year's GR Marathon. The city is most beautiful at sunrise.

Some Encourgement to My Running Friends (and to me, too)

I took the photo above onthe morning of last year's Grand Rapids Marathon. I hope that we get to enjoy a sky that blue this year.

Jeff and I will run our longest training run of the season tomorrow morning--15 miles, starting at 4:15 AM. The forecast is calling for showers and gusty wind...not ideal. But, we're hanging on to our commitment.

This morning, as we finished our second 8-mile run of the week I remembered the words of Abram Maslow:

“We fear our highest possibilities (as well as our lowest ones). We are generally aftraid to become that which we can glimpse in our most perfect moments, under the most perfect conditions, under conditions of greatest courage. We enjoy and even thrill to the godlike possibilities we see in ourselves in such peak moments. And yet we simultaneously shiver with weakness, awe, and fear before these very same possibilities.”

Maslow went on in the next paragraph to charge us with aiming higher:
“If you deliberately plan to be less than you are capable of being, then I warn you that you’ll be deeply unhappy for the rest of your life. You will be evading your own capactities, your own possibilities.”

So, I suppose we should do our best (and dress well!).

Jeff and I are in peak week, running our longest run on Friday, three weeks before the Grand Rapids Half Marathon. We've 15 miles planned, complete with course picked out and water and Gatorade stashed along the route.

Tuesday morning we ran 5 miles, once again, or at least for the second day in a row, missing the rain (which is coming down as I write this post). The run was great...sprinting along through the city and seeing some ArtPrize pieces.

This morning we faced the rain, consequently running 8 miles or 56 laps on the track at the YMCA. If we have nothing, we have commitment!

Best Week Ever (or at least in recent memory)

What makes a great week? 1. Staying in touch with new and old friends who make a difference. 2. Getting miles in, even when it's hard, and I'm by myself--because we promised. 3. Getting clarity at work--knowing what to do and why-even when it's a lot. 4. Being with friends who get promotions and make progress with their professional goals. 5. Meeting new folks who are so inspired that they are inspiring. 6. Getting to a race that is struggling for runners...debating whether or not to run it (even though we're registered); running the race (which was laughably unorganized--brimming with sincerity, but drowning in confusion)--and finishing in the top 10! 7. Going to Founders Brewery to celebrate the triumph of an acquaintance who is outrunning cancer--and while there, bonding with other caring runners who each have hearts bursting with love. 8. Getting a very long run finished after all the above (16 miles in 24 hours) and having a remarkable conversation along the way. 9. Being with friends who have lost loved ones and feel stronger because of those transitions. 10. Finding deep friendship over peanuts and beer.

I learn by going where I have to go

The Waking

I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow.
I feel my fate in what I cannot fear.
I learn by going where I have to go.

We think by feeling. What is there to know?
I hear my being dance from ear to ear.
I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow.

Of those so close beside me, which are you?
God bless the Ground! I shall walk softly there,
And learn by going where I have to go.

Light takes the Tree; but who can tell us how?
The lowly worm climbs up a winding stair;
I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow.

Great Nature has another thing to do
To you and me, so take the lively air,
And, lovely, learn by going where to go.

This shaking keeps me steady. I should know.
What falls away is always. And is near.
I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow.
I learn by going where I have to go.

T. Roethke

August

The longing is like
a fever
which I hope soon breaks

Allowing Awareness

"We do not believe in ourselves until someone reveals that deep inside us something is valuable, worth listening to, worthy of our trust, sacred to our touch. Once we believe in ourselves we can risk curiosity, wonder, spontaneous delight or any experience that reveals the human spirit."
— E.E. Cummings

Is this not enough?

This photo was actually taken by my friend, Art. We were at Ravinia last weekend to see and hear Jennifer Hudson, who was amazing!

Lately I've been inspired by the metaphor of "dancing." It all began with a spontaneous urge at a Pink Martini concert, then Jennifer Hudson at Ravinia, and yesterday I remembered Matt Alber's perfect video of End of the World.

I also often think of dancing while I'm running...rhythm, staying in step with my running buddy or our small (but mighty!) group of early morning runners.

This morning I chose some music at random and up popped DMB's terrific song, Pig.


Oh, isn't it strange
How we move our lives for another day?
Like skipping a beat
What if a great wave should wash us all away?
Just thinking out loud
Don't mean to dwell on this dying thing
But look at my blood
It's alive right now,
And deep and sweet within
Pouring through our veins
Intoxicate moving wine to tears
And drinking it deep
Then an evening spent dancing
It's you and me...

This love will open our world
From the dark side we can see a glow of something bright
Oh, there's much more than we see here
Don't burn the day away

Is this not enough?
This blessed sip of life,
Is it not enough?
Staring down at the ground
Oh, then complain and pray for more from above,
You greedy little pig
Stop, just watch your world trickle away
Oh, it's your problem now
It'll all be dead and gone in a few short years

Just love will open our eyes
Just love will put the hope back in our minds
Much more than we could ever know
Oh, so don't burn the day away
Don't burn the day away

Come sister, my brother
Shake up your bones, shake up your feet
I'm saying open up
And let the rain come pouring in
Wash out this tired notion
That the best is yet to come
But while you're dancing on the ground
Don't think of when you're gone

Love, love, love, what more is there?
'Cause we need the light of love in here
Don't beat your head
Dry your eyes
Let the love in there
There's bad times
But that's okay
Just look for love in it

And don't burn the day away...

Look, here are we
On this starry night, staring into space
And I must say
I feel as small as dust lying down here

What point could there be troubling?
Head down wondering what will become of me?
Why concern "WHAT" we cannot see
But no reason to abandon it
The time is short but that's all right
Maybe I'll go in the middle of the night
Take your hands from your eyes, my love
All good things must come to an end some time
But don't burn the day away
Don't burn the day away...

Come sister, my brother
Shake up your bones, shake up your feet
I'm saying open up
And let the rain come flooding in
Wash out this tired notion
That the best is yet to come
But while you're dancing on the ground
Don't think of when you're gone

Love, love, love, what more is there?
'Cause we need the light of love in here
Don't beat your head
Dry your eyes
Let the love in there
There're bad times
But that's okay
Just look for love in it

Ten Tuesday Thoughts (Written on Wednesday Morning)

Looking through a garden gate in Saugatuck, MI

Tuesday was quite the day. I'm just settling back into my work routine after enjoying two weeks (mostly) away from my office (I say "mostly" because I am almost never free from my self-imposed monitoring of email...but that's another post).



John was away for most of the first week, which gave me some time to be alone and putter...going to Saugatuck, Barnes and Noble, and playing the piano. The second week we enjoyed the company of John's mother and father and niece and nephew as well as my mother who all stayed with us.

But, upon their return to southern Illinois this past weekend, I began to reflect on their lives. So my mind became a jungle for monkey mind...thinking about aging, caretaking, retirement, financial planning...all those adult things.

To make matters more complicated, Toonces, our precious cat of 18 years seriously declined and we had to allow him to transition...and then Monday afternoon we endured a harsh storm that took a large part of one of our maple trees down.

Here's what I've been reflecting on:

1. If you cannot adapt to change, you cannot grow.
2. Letting go of something or someone you love allows the heart an important opportunity to expand. That's why it hurts.
3. Motivation is nice, but one must be able to do without it.
4.  If you choose do something, do it with your entire being. If you find the time isn't right (for whatever reason), let it go completely. Your actions are important. Don't be half-assed about them.
5. Empathize before speaking. Think of what it would be like to be the person hearing your message. Always leave the door open for more conversation.
6. If you are closing the door on future conversations, do that with respect and grace. 
7. Avoid drama. It's old and predictable to many of us. Be original with your kindness.
8. Say what you mean, but do it respectfully. Challenge yourself to find the right words even when delivering a critical or difficult message.
9. Plan, but be flexible. Let life unfold as it does...learn to ride the waves.
10. Give more than you get...make generosity--in goods, friendships, family relationships, with colleagues, and strangers robust and filled with energy.

Letting life happen

"Praise and blame, gain and loss, pleasure and sorrow come and go like the wind. To be happy, rest like a giant tree in the midst of them all"

— Siddhārtha Gautama

Of course, sometimes even trees get challenged.

Beginning the day with Kerouac

"Life must be rich and full of loving--it's no good otherwise, no good at all, for anyone."

Running Beyond Running

May, 11 2007,  Fifth Third River Bank 25K

Running is no more about legs and lungs than playing the piano is about fingers and mind.

I've been struggling with my running for the past few months, actually almost a year. And yet, I trod on--waiting for a reasonable level of comfort and self-confidence to return. Those are within reach, but not quite here yet. But I have learned a few things--most of them yesterday and today, thanks to Jeff.

1. I'm not alone. The more I talk about these changes and challenges with a few close friends the more I hear some version of the same story. It seems that running "easy" is episodic (I've never ran easy, for the record--I just haven't had as much struggle as I've been having).
2. Age has little to do with running easy. Most of the runners I admire are older than I. They just look stronger and stronger. That's a great source of inspiration and motivation.
3. Yesterday I had a lousy run. And it was terrific. A planned 7 mile run turned into a few miles of jogging, then lots of walking. That walking opened the door to a great epiphany. I run with a good friend, and occasionally a few others who join for our traditional 1.5 mile warm up and a longer run that always follows.
4. This epiphany. Yesterday, running in the very early morning darkness and humidity, I knew I couldn't finish the run. But Jeff was fine with that. We took several walk breaks that eventually turned into a long walk. Determined to at least fulfill our set time for running, we continued chatting and walking. And noticing. Noticing the sunrise, the gravel (we'd ran that gravel before but were amazed at how treacherous it was in the light and when we paid attention). We noticed our stories. Our usual snippets of heavy breathing conversation turned into actual communication. And we became more present--liberated from watching the time, looking for potholes, avoiding skunks--we faced up to the reality that on some days the pavement and gravel move easily under our feet, but on others, we just have to be two middle-aged guys making an effort. And noticing a great sunrise.
5. With renewed commitment we forged out again this morning. First finishing our 1.5 mile warm up with "the Tracys and Kelly," and then continuing for another 8 miles. The run was easier--not because my legs or lungs were suddenly stronger, but because I understood that the run wasn't just about legs and lungs.

Running affords us the opportunity to be in a series of moments with tremendous energy. Running with a friend or group is a special experience that weaves our individual experiences together into one more vivid and robust experience. It allows us to be pulled forward by the stronger runner and to slow a bit for those who are gaining strength.

Just as playing the piano truly has very little to do with knowing or playing the right notes (those are given and serve as the most basic foundation for actually "playing" the piano), running is more about paying attention to the experience of living. And because of that, we should allow our pain to be overtaken by the friendship of our fellow runners and beauty of unexpected sunrises.

"Do stuff. be clenched, curious. Not waiting for inspiration's shove or society's kiss on your forehead. Pay attention. It's all about paying attention. attention is vitality. It connects you with others. It makes you eager. stay eager." 

Susan Sontag

Freedom

Mark's Arbor

"Be empty of worrying.

Think of who created thought!

Why do you stay in prison

When the door is so wide open?" 

— Rumi (The Essential Rumi)

Making Space for Living

Sunrise in Traverse City

Lately I've been thinking more about the work of Virginia Satir, especially her Five Freedoms. Here they are in case you're not familiar or need a quick review.

• The freedom to see and hear what is here, instead of what should be, was, or will be.
• The freedom to say what you feel and think, instead of what you should.
• The freedom to feel what you feel, instead of what you ought.
• The freedom to ask for what you want, instead of always waiting for permission.
• The freedom to take risks in your own behalf, instead of choosing to be only “secure” and not rocking the boat.

Life can be difficult, but more often than not, life is neutral. It is only through our habit of labeling experiences that life is characterized. We have an experience that brings pleasure (like walking along a warm sandy beach) and we label it "good." Someone disagrees with us at work and we call it "bad."

We have the opportunity to live a life of fulfillment through becoming more accepting of experience. When we set rigid expectations of how life "should" be, we set ourselves up for disappointment. Suffering may be thought of as the space between how things are and the illusional expectations that we've set in our minds. Living a life of acceptance can broaden our experiences into one, coherent reality. I often aim for curiosity--just being in the moment and observing reality with a sense of appreciation--welcoming the unexpected.

So what would be different?

We would be more open to the viewpoints of others--not needing them to be this way or that, but able to empathize with the perspectives of others.

We would be less critical of others and of ourselves. We would broaden our ability to be accepting.

We would be more tolerant. We would allow room for people to be themselves--to let experiences unfold without rescuing, enabling, shaming, or judging people for their choices.

We would be more accepting of ourselves. We would not paint ourselves into corners of how we "should" be. We would uphold our personal truths--live our lives with authenticity--taking plunges into the wonder of our realities.

This all takes practice. That practice can begin with awareness. Notice today how often you feel a need for some event or someone to unfold in a particular way--just make a quiet list of the feelings you have when these moments arise.

Notice how often you create dissonance (intentionally or unintentionally) by trying to please the spoken or unspoken expectations of someone else.

Begin to act with more authenticity. Allow yourself the freedom to be who you are--to make decisions based on your own needs, your own values, and your own goals. This change need not be selfish--but out of self-respect. It is wise to allow others to be equal to us, but habitually putting the fears, needs, wants, and fragilities of others ahead of our personal freedoms can lead to a life of chronic resentment, frustration, disappointment, or shame.

It is okay to be yourself. And today is a good time to begin.

Noticing Friendship

I've had such an interesting week. John was gone away to a cool professional development event, so I took a few days off work so that I could stay close to the dogs and cats. And I really needed some time away from my office.

During the week I became increasingly aware of how much I value friends. I know a lot of people, but I have always been very dichotomous about how I spend my social energy. I'm perfectly happy being alone for 6 or 8 hours (I suspect this comes from sitting at the piano in university practice rooms for hours on end). And then I'm hungry for social time--I like places that have a lot of energy and a lot of people. I like to see everyone and listen in on conversations and chatting it up with anyone. I'm good with that for 3 or 4 hours, and then I'm ready to go back and be alone. Very either/or.

But this week, because of John's absence and my time away from my office,  my pattern was disrupted. Actually, it was liberated. I just suddenly had no real schedule.

Things I Did

1. Had a great spin class with my running buddy, Jeff
2. Had a few beers at Hopcat--great local place
3. Had several decent runs, including a 6+ mile trek around Reeds Lake at 4:45 AM
4. Treated myself to breakfast and or lunch out too many times (including having a Caprese salad and fries on my cheat day)
5. Caught up with Eric while enjoying Rowster coffee at Kurt's great coffee place
6. Drove myself to Saugatuck where I had said salad and fries, walked the pier, took photos, and finally headed to Oval Beach

I could go on...but you get the idea...I just invested in events rather than being at the mercy of an hourly calendar. And I invested in people.

What I Learned

1. I have really great friends. Sure, I do have some lifelong friends (or at least decades long), but I also have good energy from others in my day-to-day life. Sometime deep friendships are simply discovered by noticing and striking up a conversation with someone you see every day--by asking someone to go for a run.
2. People you've never met face-to-face can be a catalyst for epiphanies. My friend Mark shares his life with me and through that I see the whole world differently--with much greater brightness and hope and humanity.
3. I know very few people who aren't deeply interesting. Taking the time to get to know people...to listen to them and learn about their lives is surely a component of enlightenment.
4. I know more about myself whenever I get out of the way and listen to the passions, ideas, and challenges of others. 
5. We are all much more alike than not. As Rumi said,

"I, you, he, she, we

In the garden of mystic lovers,

these are not true distinctions." 

 

Noticing the benefits of noticing brings us all in touch with one another. That is a fundamental component to appreciating our interconnectedness. When we see others--when we allow time and space for others to freely share their ideas and experiences with us--we then see a little more of ourselves.

Perseverance

"Life is complex."


"Each one of us must make his own path through life. There are no self-help manuals, no formulas, no easy answers. The right road for one is the wrong road for another...The journey of life is not paved in blacktop; it is not brightly lit, and it has no road signs. It is a rocky path through the wilderness. "

— M. Scott Peck

 

 

Inspired by early morning resolutions...more running, continue learning the Chopin Polonaise Fantasie, eat better, drink less, write more, become more skilled with photography, meditate...I'm reminded that this habit of early morning resolution-making is the result of so much unfinished business. This list is a recurring list to which I only need to commit. And so, I'm out for that run, but not without first reviewing this poem, a favorite.

 

Autobiography in Five Short Chapters

 

Chapter 1

 

I walk down the street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I fall in.
I am lost ... I am helpless.
It isn't my fault.
It takes forever to find a way out.

 

Chapter 2

 

I walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I pretend I don't see it.
I fall in again.
I can't believe I am in the same place.
But it isn't my fault.
It still takes a long time to get out.

 

Chapter 3

 

I walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I see it is there.
I still fall in ... it's a habit.
My eyes are open.
I know where I am.
It is my fault.
I get out immediately.

 

Chapter 4

 

I walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I walk around it.

 

Chapter 5

 

I walk down another street.

 

~ Portia Nelson ~

Living with Ambiguity: The Paradise of Being an Artist

“if the future is to remain open and free, we need people who can tolerate the unknown, who will not need the support of completely worked out systems or traditional blueprints from the past.”

Margaret Mead

Why I Ran the Fifth Third River Bank Run: 7 Lessons I Learned in 6 Miles

1:04:29

That's my chip time for this year's River Bank 10K.  It's not fast. And, it is to date, the slowest 10K I've ran since I first began running in 2006.

For the past two years I've ran the 25K--through storms, flooded course, 40-mile per hour wind gusts, and temperatures in the high 30s. The runs have been hard, which is made more intense by my stubborness to continue running despite my lack of any natural aptitude for it. I just run because I think I should.

In 2009 and 2010 I ran for Gilda's Club Grand Rapids. Inspired by my family's experiences with cancer, I decided to seek pledges from friends so that 1) Gilda's Club can continue their vital programming and 2) I would make the run about something more important than my roster of completed races.

For the past year I've been swarmed with small health problems: bouts of vertigo, a troubling colonoscopy that led to a series of biopsies (they all came back fine), a visit from my old friend "minor depression"

Like wandering into a ghost of gnats, none of these problems resulted in anything life-threatening, but as a series of issues, they just wore me down. And interrupted my running.

I still managed to do a few runs in 2010, including the Monster Dash Half Marathon in Chicago on Halloween morning. Spending time with friends, Steve and Bryan during that race reminded me that the joy of running had not left me.

In December, inspired by the Monster Dash and trying to leave the tiny room of depression that seems to always be in the house that is my mind, I began to train for the River Bank 25K. All was going pretty well. I logged my miles diligently, following the guide that came in the mail. I chummed around with good runners and smilingly accepted their abuse as they braved the snow and ice while I sweated it out on the treadmill.

By March I was in pretty good shape, although struggling to manage unexplained weight gain. I ran the Irish Jig 5K and felt every foot fall--with my 165 lbs (15 lbs over my typical weight) making everything more difficult and slower than usual. Nonetheless, I finished just fine and enjoyed the afterward at Rose's, our tradition.

And then I stopped running. Sluggish and uninspired I simply stopped running. Between March's Irish Jig and last Saturday--the day of the River Bank Run I didn't run at all. I did work out, but only out of obligation.

But--during that time I became keenly aware of friends, family and acquaintances who were experiencing all sorts of health problems. I attribute this to my age group--as I near 50 I'm just around more people who begin to have things happen to them that, well things that happen to people who are 50ish.

One guy fell during a training run only to find out he has a brain tumor. Another runner friend's father-in-law was diagnosed with cancer--and died within weeks. And then I had a bout of Schatzki Ring--a chronic condition on my roster of strange health problems that manifests by my not being able to swallow. One week before the Run I landed in the hospital--twice. Once in the ER and then again for the procedure that expands my esophagus.

And then I made the decision to run the River Bank. I just couldn't give in to all of these things. I thought, "As long as I can start and finish, I'm running."

And I did.

Very slowly, but with a mental lightness and enjoyable determination. And with great support from friends who ran alongside me.

I learned what I already knew:

1. There are always obstacles to training
2. Ilness and death co-exist with us every day and everywhere--we might as well make room for them at the table
3. Doing something is better than resigning oneself to being on the sidelines
4. It's good to be nobly determined
5. Noble determination is different and better than ego-driven stubborness
6. Fast is nice, but not necessary
7. The guy who jumps out of the sidelines 500 feet before the finish and pushes you through is proof of good in the world

Now, stop reading and go do something worthwhile!

Clinging

It's not that we lack the ability to be fully present, it's that we are often too fearful to let go of the past.

Ten Strategies Toward Becoming Centered

1. Allow life to unfold. Be mindful with your thoughts, words, and actions. Trust others to do the same. Live your life, not the lives of others.
2. Avoid blaming. Blaming snaps us back to the past, as if re-living an event might change it. Accept this moment as the only true reality. Allow the past to pass. Be forgiving; seek kindness.
3. Relax; avoid seeking perfectionism. Accept people for who they are. To those who seem authentic and kind, invite them into your world as you choose. To those who seem to be guided by suffering (and therefore, bring suffering to others), excuse them from your life. Set boundaries.
4. Bring resolution to all conversations, conflicts, and commitments. Follow through, enjoying the sense of calm that results from feeling the resolve of tension in thoughts, actions, or promises completed.
5. Take time everyday to appreciate the interconnectedness of life. Too often we can feel constricted by a self-inflicted sense of uniqueness. As if the flaws of our being, our struggles, our traumas have happened only to us. We all suffer. We all have caused suffering. We all have been helpful. We are mostly alike. Moving toward a place that honors our ability to share our authenticity with others allows us to be free...to breathe more deeply.
6. Enjoy the candor of life. Often we're taught to deny our feelings, fears, hopes, dreams. Open up and allow your true self to be fully present.
7. Call things what they are. Don't try to dress up life, or hide. The beauty of life is found in its blemishes. Great things happen to us. And lousy things do to. Accepting reality allows us to be more fully present, not having to create a false world of how we wish things were. Accept this moment.
8. Be trustworthy in all your thoughts, words, and actions. Be sincere.
9. Allow yourself to perceive, think and interpret, feel, desire, or imagine in your own way. Extend that honor to others, too.
10. Give others space to have their own code of life. Don't assume your pathway is the right one for everyone else. We all find our way in our own ways. Extend a hand, but respect the boundaries, beliefs, dreams, and hopes of others.

Long Point Light

Long Point's apparitional
this warm spring morning,
the strand a blur of sandy light,


and the square white
of the lighthouse-separated from us
by the bay's ultramarine


as if it were nowhere
we could ever go-gleams
like a tower's ghost, hazing


into the rinsed blue of March,
our last outpost in the huge
indetermination of sea.


It seems cheerful enough,
in the strengthening sunlight,
fixed point accompanying our walk

along the shore. Sometimes I think
it's the where-we-will be,
only not yet, like some visible outcropping


of the afterlife. In the dark
its deeper invitations emerge:
green witness at night's end,


flickering margin of horizon,
marker of safety and limit.
but limitless, the way it calls us,

and where it seems to want us
to come, And so I invite it
into the poem, to speak,

and the lighthouse says:
Here is the world you asked for,
gorgeous and opportune,

here is nine o'clock, harbor-wide,
and a glinting code: promise and warning.
The morning's the size of heaven.

What will you do with it?

Finding Calm

I can find calm most readily when I let go of believing that I am responsible for the feelings, actions, or attitudes others.

I can influence and be influenced, but at the end of the day I am only responsible for my actions.

Everyone's path makes sense to them. People choose relationships--family dynamics, friendships, and partnerships--for reasons that suit them. They don't have to make sense to me.

Seeking "the perfect" in anything is self-defeating. Make a little progress every moment. Revel in experiences that bring peace; strive to move through experiences that feel shameful, frustrating, or disappointing.

It is good and wise to put ourselves first. We may raise children, take care of friends and family, and support colleagues. But none of this is possible without making ourselves the priority.

Find courage everyday to speak up. Ask for what you need.

The Beauty of Friendship

I sometimes, perhaps often think we underestimate the joy of friendship. Think of how much time is spent speaking poorly of others, or wishing that they were somehow different, or perhaps just complaining about life.

What if we took time to regularly consider the affection and respect that is within our reach? What if we extended a hand, a note, or smiled and just said "hello" to a friend, a colleague, or even a stranger.


Friendship can be serendipitous, but it should be sincere. Sincerity requires reflection...and noticing the lives of others.

John and I once were in GB Russo's, a local, family-owned, Italian, gourmet market where many locals shop. While standing in the checkout lane we noticed a very large woman sitting on a bench. Near her stood a man, seemingly near her age...perhaps her husband. She held in her hand a sturdy cane, that was failing her in her attempts to rise off the bench. The woman had a complex look of frustration, fear, embarrassment, and fading hope on her face. I suspect we've all had that look at one time or another.

John and I immediately recognized that she was not able to stand. I asked John to help her and suggested that it might take both of us. He said, "No, I'll just go over and speak with her." He did and I (and everyone else in the three checkout lanes) looked on. John, the man, and the woman chatted a bit. She was smiling and looking at John with as much hope in her eyes as I've ever seen. Within a few minutes the woman made another attempt to stand up. It seemed to me that everyone in the front of the store was quietly cheering the team of three.

With John on one side and her friend on the other and with cane in hand she was able to raise her center of gravity high enough to stand. She triumphed over the low set bench!

She thanked John and made her way out of the store with he friend and their small bag of groceries. John came back to the checkout lane where I was finishing our purchase. He had a big smile and slightly teary eyes. Others, our small checkout lane community, also were all smiling. The day was better for everyone.

John quietly said, "She just had knee surgery and is not yet strong enough to sit and then stand. She got tired walking around the store and needed to sit down, but she didn't think she would get stuck. She's fine now."

A student asked anthropologist Margaret Mead for the earliest sign of civilization in a given culture. He expected the answer to be a clay pot or perhaps a fishhook or grinding stone.

Her answer: 'A healed femur.'

Mead explained that no mended bones are found where the law of the jungle, survival
of the fittest, reigns. A healed femur shows that someone cared. Someone had to do
that injured person's hunting and gathering until the leg healed.

The evidence of compassion is the first sign of civilization.

When John and I noticed the woman on the bench...when we made eye contact, when everyone in the checkout area notice--and when John offered the woman help, we all became friends, if just for a moment.

But that's the sincerity, the purity of serendipitous friendship. There is no guarantee of "commitment forever," merely the decision to do right moment-by-moment. Sometimes friendship is helping someone we've not yet met, and other times it is reaching out to begin a relationship with someone whom we feel as though we've met, but can't quite remember when.

When we take advantage of these moments that are handed to us, we make our interconnectedness richer...we get thankful expressions, memories, and sometimes even video cards that leave our hearts full.

Never underestimate the opportunity of each moment.