Friendship, Buddyship, and Love: An Incomplete Post on an Important Idea

“No relationship is perfect, ever. There are always some ways you have to bend, to compromise, to give something up in order to gain something greater...The love we have for each other is bigger than these small differences. And that's the key. It's like a big pie chart, and the love in a relationship has to be the biggest piece. Love can make up for a lot.”

― Sarah Dessen, This Lullaby

The week of Valentine's Day has been tumultuous--mostly in good ways, but not without enough shennanigans to get me thinking about what's important in relationships.

Friendship, buddyship, and love are ways of being present with others. They have common characteristics, hallmarks.

Simplicity--maybe not contextually--we have to continue to traverse our way through many unknowns. And many of these unknowns lead to stubbing our toes, tripping, falling, making errors. Sometimes we get bruised--hopefully not intentionally. But sometimes, even as we strive for simplicity we encounter rickety stairs and slick hills.

We are human. We lose our patience. Sometimes lose our temper and act abruptly. In our deepest moments of humanity--which I hope are frequent--we notice our compassionability, our capacity and ability to be, express and accept compassion. This is a hallmark, not only of healthy relationships, but also of intrapersonal strength.  Developing  or expressing compassionability can be daunting.

Perhaps we've made choices that limit our abilities to easily express love and friendship. After all, we're socialized to check boxes--to be either or rather than both and. But of course the experience of humanity is not nice and neat. It is messy, requires spontaneity; it has peaks and valleys. At our own highest highs we revel in awareness, laughter, humor, and buddyships. At our lowest lows we question ourselves. We allow our minds to be overwhelemed with doubt--perhaps shame and regret. I find that no affective state is more distressful than regret--the desire to un-do an action or statement. When we're low, we feel isolated and discontent; raw and unsafely vulnerable.

Love and friendship are solution-focused. Friends, buddys, partners and lovers seek out and embrace opportunities to care for and express caring and concern for one another. Conversely, we thoughtuflly walk away from temptations to blame, take jabs, or make accusatory statements.

We keep our sights set high on the belief that we each have something good to offer one another--that we are partners in a common, higher principle.

Love and friendship have a sense of balance. Relationships have reciprocity, equanimity, homeostasis. We offer support but we also ask for it. We know our strengths and share them--as supports and as lessons.

We are teachers and students of one another. That is an important hallmark; our appreciation and respect of our interconnectivity. We likewise recognize and address our weaknesses. We ask for help from those stonger and wiser--and we accept and respond to valid criticisms of our weaknesses.

Compassionability  resides with our negative emotions (remember, we're human). So don't bother to try to extinguish negative emotions--rather, strive to allow your ability to be compassionate to be the primary source of decision-making when faced with a surprisingly challenge person or situation.

Some pointers on how to cultivate these halmarks:

1. Always take time for lunch...to go to a quiet spot, perhaps a park--and read a book that a buddy suggested.
2. Find a time in the day to listen to silence.
3. Strive to go 24 hours without complaining; repeat.
4. Notice the lives of others.
5. If you see the same people every day, make sure you introduce yourself; know the name of the guy who lockers next to you.
6. Take a subtle no for an answer, but don't read things into everything.
7. Sing along.
8.  Forgive the past. We've all been saints and sinners...and we'll continue to be.

Lessons

I would much rather be with those who openly express their feelings, including fear, pain, and hurt rather than those who seem as though they have such strength that they are exempt from the  realities of life. Authenticity includes the skillful ability to be fully present with all feelings, not just those that society has deemed alright.

It is as important to be able to accept an apology as it is to be able to offer one.

Every day the earth shakes a little bit...sometimes it's gentle, other times there are jolts. This dynamic will not change. We can only strive to have steady footing during the shaking.

The ability of our closest friends to awaken us to our sense of centeredness cannot be appreciated enough. To be with friends in all of our collective complexity is beautiful and voluptious...lusty.

The Real Reason I Love Running

GRCC Runners, Irish Jig, 2011

Giving material goods is one form of generosity, but one can extend an attitude of generosity into all one's behavior. Being kind, attentive, and honest in dealing with others, offering praise where it is due, giving comfort and advice where they are needed, and simply sharing one's time with someone - all these are forms of generosity, and they do not require any particular level of material wealth.

Rainer Maria Rilke

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.

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.

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!

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.

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

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.

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

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.

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.

Seeing our inner Buddha

"Then it was as if I suddenly saw the beauty of their hearts, the depths of where neither sin nor desire can reach, the person that each one is in God's eyes. If only they could see themselves as they really are. If only we could see each other that way there would be no reason for war, for hatred, for cruelty...I suppose the big problem would be that we would fall down and worship one another."

Thomas Merton

Mind, Body, and Spirit: Friendship

Our mind, body, and spirit work together, always and in every way. Just as body only becomes stronger when mind and spirit support that quest, so too does body become weak when our mind or spirit suffer. Only through the constant striving for limitlessness--in mind, body, and spirit--will we accomplish our best. To do this is to inspire--to instill friendship and goodwill in others.

Running and Friendship

Several years ago, actually almost 10 years ago, I co-facilitated a men’s retreat for college-age students. The retreat came about as the result of my work as a counselor at a small, private, Catholic college. The charge given to me was to increase the number of men who might benefit from individual counseling. When I began I had no male clients, but very quickly my calendar filled. Most of the men were 18 to 22 years old and shared common concerns: how to be more expressive, how to be more successful in relationships, how to reconcile religious values with sexuality...everything poignant, but nothing more than the normal existential emptiness of braided youth, masculinity, and spirituality. Yet still chronically troubling to these men.

I worked with all the male faculty and staff on campus to develop a weekend men’s retreat that would explore spirituality and masculinity. Each meeting allowed for a core of interested and available men to emerge as participants and co-leaders. We finally emerged as a group of about 26 students and facilitators--all equally fearful.

We invited a Zen master, a Catholic priest, and a Native American shaman to share their ideas of how men could more authentically express masculinity and spirituality. One lesson offered by the shaman was the observation that many men desire friendships with other men, but then push those away. He went on to describe how in some native cultures, it is custom to express friendship through an embrace. However, sincerity and authenticity are noted by the duration of the hug. He suggested that a true embrace allows for enough time to pass that each man can feel the heartbeat of the other.

Immediately the younger men in the group looked at once validated and fearful--exposing the space that is often left behind when we know how to be expressive and fear the very action that would allow for that expressivity. That space then becomes our own personal emptiness.

Running seems to me to offer an opportunity for authenticity. When we allow ourselves to run with a friend who stays close enough that the two of us share a rhythm--our paced and heavy breathing being the aspiration and inspiration of our combined hearts’ work--then we have expressed friendship.