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