Last of the Boomers

Hall of Fame pt. 2

2011-07-31T12:40:00.002-06:00

Prelude: I wanted to write this post first, but realized when I started that I had to go back to the original and give proper context by writing Hall of Fame pt. 1 first. This post would be more meaningful as a result.....

Part 1 was all about looking through the eyes of the "son" about the "father". Part 2 is now reversed. The "son" has now grown up and is now the "father" having an experience with his "son". In other unnecessary words, this is told through the eyes of the "son-who-is-now-the-father". (I know you didn't need all that, but now it sounds like a cool native American name huh?)

Story: On a more serious note....A few months ago, I found myself with my head in my hands and my heart aching as a result of a poorly orchestrated "conversation" with my oldest son. There are other words for that kind of exchange: argument, confrontation, knock-down-drag-out, etc.... in the end it doesn't matter what it was labeled, the only proper label for it was...."Horrible"

I had violated my own rules of not getting "loud", not bringing up the "past" and by not getting all the details first before exploding.

It is difficult to come to terms with the truth about you being the one who loses trust with a loved one. I had already gone through the normal but unhelpful process of trying to justify every position and comment I had made. I was older, knew more and therefore was "right" by these and the virtue of being the "Father".

As my head lowered with each successive "replay" I came to the realization that all my "expertise" and "experience" weren't worth a hill of beans. In fact, it was if they didn't matter at all. The only thing that had mattered was the slowly creeping-in sensation that maybe somehow I was "wrong". No matter how much I pushed the idea away, it would not back down. It made itself known and silently presented itself for what it was.....Truth!

Sidenote: Isn't Truth the ultimate "face job"? Revenge pretends to be the one that owns the tagline "Hah, right back at you Jerk" but, I think not. Truth owns it outright. It doesn't have to explain itself, it doesn't justify itself.... it doesn't have to. It just "IS". I have come to love Truth more in my life as I make more mistakes and realize I fall short. Truth pierces like no other and it will not be denied. We can pretend to not "see" it, which we all do, but at the end of the day, it will be seen by all.

The time came many hours later, sitting on the couch in the dark, when my heart finally won over my head, and I let truth in to teach me yet again. The feelings of remorse came, the burn of tears through pained eyes and the right kind of authentic hurt was felt.

It was during the latter part of this stage when my youngest son, Braden came over, through the dark and sat down next to me. He then said: "How are you doing?" I said: "Not great".. He then did something he has never done before or since...... he began to simply ask questions about work, what was going on there, he remembered small things that he shouldn't have even known about. He continued with just a few of these questions that took me so off guard, yet I knew that they were heartfelt and not contrived just to "change the subject" if you know what I mean. I was so startled by his maturity and willingness to go where he normally never went. It completely diffused the heavy feelings I was having and it "broke the bad juju" spell I was under. He was so quiet, unassuming and yet he knew that was what he needed to do to help Dad. He somehow knew down deep that he couldn't do many things, but he could just innocently reach out and ask a few sincere questions.

The affect was immediate and powerful. I was able to process from that point quickly and then proceeded to make amends with my oldest son soon after. But what lingered from this experience was what Braden did....not all the stuff in between, but that single, simple well intentioned act of Love he rendered in my behalf. Yes, one might say that my heart transitioned from feeling "bad" to "hurting good". You saved me that day.

Braden, you jumped into my Hall of Fame in that instant and it made all the difference in the world. Sounds strangely "familiar".......like an echo of 25 years ago.

So, that is all, that is it. One simple story, one of many arguments before and since, yet that one will always stand out to me.

Postlude: I have since thought a lot about the notion of being "Saved". In a very real way, Braden "saved" me from that situation. I have been saved by my wife and a few others during the course of my life. In my mind they are all simply examples of the ultimate Savior, Jesus Christ. The truth is, He already did it for me...in fact he did it for all of us. He "saved" us all in every way. If He were here today, he would be doing the work that Braden did for me. In His wisdom he allows each one of us to be angels to one another by exemplifying His eternal mercy and love through small simple acts of love. I have a profound feeling of honor and respect for Braden. Thank you son, for your example....... I hope I can return the favor one day.

My Theme Song

2011-06-26T21:32:00.001-06:00

My life is tethered to a rolling stone,

my dreams are anchored in the wind.

I come from here, I come from there,

in truth I come from everywhere.

My tongue does not have a mother,

my language is an open mind.

Before I learned how to walk,

I already knew how to fly.

Comfort for me is constant motion

continent to continent....

.....ocean to ocean

This is the beginning of knowing me

Hall of Fame pt. 1

2011-05-08T22:30:00.003-06:00

Prelude: It was the summer of '86. I had just returned home from serving in Portugal for 2 years as a volunteer missionary. I was on top of the world. I had just experienced the best 2 years of my life as I knew it then. I was with my parents in Northern VA and had turned my thoughts to work in prep to return for fall semester at BYU. I had landed a midnight to 6am job driving a large van to distribute newspapers to about 30 routes for the Washington Post. I would try and get a couple of hours of sleep before leaving then finish up with a few more on the flipside before going to a second job by 10am.

Story: My dad had decided to for some unknown mysterious reason, to take upon himself a rather "large" paper route. When I say "large" I mean "humongous"!! He did it himself with help of my younger brother JJ. Going to Mom for answers didn't work as she was already banging her head against the wall wondering what on earth my Dad was thinking. Nevertheless, while we were all scratching our heads, Dad was busy designing the absolutely most organized and well orchestrated paper route man has seen. He did maps on his computer, he had a color coding system that the CIA would be envious of. He was very disciplined and he ran that thing like a well oiled machine. If there were an Oscar for Paper Routes....well...nuff said!

Sometimes, when he wasn't careful, and you were in the right position and the right time, you could catch a twinkle in his eye and and a little grin that said something like.. "he he... I am the master of my universe..." minus the stereo typical dramatic evil Draculan laugh that one would expect.....

Now, it didn't matter if it was rain or shine or even "school closing" snow, he never missed a day and almost never missed a paper. He did this for years. Every Saturday evening was spent in our living room with a pile of Sunday inserts....which we all rolled and rubber banded while we watched "Star Search"..... (Ok, so there was no Idol then.... k?) Nothing was funner than getting up super early on Sunday and load up the papers....each one seriously felt like a block of cement. Then running around delivering those chunks of bricks...it look twice as long and we had to finish quickly in time to go to our next favorite thing on Sunday......right....Church! Oh Yeah!! and there was much rejoicing throughout the land....

But once I had taken this nightime job, I had to catch more sleep each morning when I got home in order to be halfway ready for my 2nd job. So, for several months he and JJ were on their own....(except for those bloody Sundays.)

Then came my last day.... the day I would be returning to school and leaving home yet one more time. I remember the day so well... I finished my night route, got home and was on my way into the house when something said to my mind "Go find Dad...!" I immediately decided to follow the voice....I ran the route until I found him.... I didn't have to go too far and when he saw me coming he shouted out "Hey! great to see you..." I said "Put me to work". We finished the route in record time, the day progressed and off I went to BYU.

Fast Forward: Later.... I think it would have been months later... I received one of Dad's letters. I can hardly talk about Dad's letters without feeling a lump in my throat.... . I had come to rely upon them much in my life. No one wrote letters like Dad. I opened the letter and then read about that last day I left for BYU many months ago.

He said that he was already not looking forward to my leaving that day, and knowing he wouldn't see me before I left, when I came bounding down the sidewalk in the darkness to find him and help, he said in that moment I "jumped" into his personal "Hall of Fame". He proceeded to tell me how special that small moment was for him. It was totally unexpected.

I had to stop and rewind and play the "tape" again in my mind. My heart got involved this time. I thought it was nothing....more fun than very important. He saw it quite differently. He drew me into the feelings that Fathers have, a context that I couldn't quite understand at the time, but believed him.

He went on to say for the first of many times how much I made him "Hurt Good". This has become a very special term that he and I have traded back and forth since that time. I have come to know how special that feeling is.

That was it, nothing more; simple really when I think of it, but so profound and it has left its permanent mark on my heart.

Postlude: I have since thought about my personal "Hall of Fame".... Who is in there? Who do I let in? What do they have to do? Do I need to have one? I have thought, and felt about it a lot since then. I have learned there is a door, there is criteria, but I have never written it down. In fact, I am not even sure I could tell you.... but I can say that my heart absolutely knows what the entrance criteria is. I never know when it will happen, but when it does, it is as clear as a whistle through a silent sky. Do you have one? "Hurts Good" works for me.

So, I have stopped scratching my head about Dad's paper route. That letter put that question to bed. I secretly smile to myself in a more knowing way as I think about the many times we spent working together, accomplishing something hard - together. My hat's off to you Dad...You were always way smarter than me Thanks for taking that paper route in order to teach me a life lesson about "hurting good" It has made all the difference.

If you were here today......

2011-05-08T10:42:00.000-06:00

If you were here today.....

Here is what you wouldn't do first.....

Clean the kitchen
Sweep the floor
Cast a glancing eye at the dust here and there
Roll your eyes at the McDonald's bag on the counter

These never were your strengths and thank Heaven they weren't, even though you spent a lifetime worrying over them. I am glad they really didn't matter in the end.....

Here is what you would do instead:

You would be anxious to hear the kids sing and dance, (only you would be able to get them to do it too!)
You wouldn't be able to restrain the urge to teach them something along the way as well, some dance move, or encouragement for something artistic.
You would "ooh" and "ahh" no matter what they did and you would make them feel like it was the most beautiful thing you had ever seen.
You would tell them the stories of how you would dance as a little girl with your sisters for the troops during WWII and how the soldiers would throw pennies on the stage which you loved!
You would tell them to smile and shine all the time
You would squeeze every detail of worth out of each moment
You wouldn't dare leave without letting each know of their infiinte worth and potential and how the Lord would bless them.
You would make each one of them feel so unique and special.
You would give them each a breathless tight hug, as if it would be your last....

They would feel your excitement and enthusiasm for true and free expression.... They would start practicing the minute you left for the next visit.

As I play the film in my mind's eye, it is so clear and vivid that it is as if you really were here. I know the script, I can hear the dialogue, I know all the camera angles, yes...even when to zoom in on a particular moment. Predictable plot? Oh yes!, but always special. I know the beginning, middle and end.... oh, the ends were so hard...the longing looks, the hugs that didn't need to be so tight, but were anyway. Your film is perfect, always re-watchable, always in technicolor, always ending with a lump in the throat.

Keep dancing Mom, never stop and thank you for that lasting legacy....... abraco,

Happy Mothers Day

What Are Words

2011-02-26T09:47:00.014-07:00

"What Are Words"
Anywhere you are, I am near
Anywhere you go, I'll be there
Anytime you whisper my name, you'll see
How every single promise I keep
Cuz what kind of guy would I be
If I was to leave when you need me most

What are words
If you really don't mean them
When you say them
What are words
If they're only for good times
Then they don't
When it's love
Yeah, you say them out loud
Those words, They never go away
They live on, even when we're gone

And I know an angel was sent just for me
And I know I'm meant to be where I am
And I'm gonna be
Standing right beside her tonight
And I'm gonna be by your side
I would never leave when she needs me most

What are words
If you really don't mean them
When you say them
What are words
If they're only for good times
Then they don't
When it's love
Yeah, you say them out loud
Those words, They never go away
They live on, even when we're gone

Anywhere you are, I am near
Anywhere you go, I'll be there
And I'm gonna be here forever more
Every single promise I keep
Cuz what kind of guy would I be
If I was to leave when you need me most

I'm forever keeping my angel close

Although a fairly avid fan of American Idol, I had only caught snipits here and there this season and had somehow missed the whole Chris Medina story. It has become clear to me now that I wasn't supposed to...

I sat down this morning at my laptop with the intent of plowing into some "homework" that I was behind on for work. Instead of pulling up a work file, I went to right to Yahoo.com for some reason and noticed a little vid clip about Chris Medina not making the top 24. The story says that Chris went into the studio a day or so after his elimination to record a song called "What Are Words." A well known producer wrote the song after being inspired by his story and asked Chris to record it.

My curiosity was piqued...So I clicked on the video clip.

.....I wasn't prepared for the emotion I found rising up into my chest......I liked Chris's voice, the melody was simple, but full of emotion and the words rang in my ears. They were a perfect fit for his own story...... But what really got to me was Chris himself: his example of deep devotion, commitment and loyalty to a now brain damaged; disabled fiancee who once was a beautiful fully functioning woman.

I don't know Chris, never will, but I don't need to..... I know enough about him to cause myself to ask some important questions that I need answers to:

"Am I that loyal?" "Do I honor my friends and loved ones by keeping my promises?" "Is my back and heart strong enough to do what Chris is doing if needed, regardless of any circumstance?"

He is the kind of example that helps all of us who are married or commited to remember a few key words and phrases of things we promised each other once upon a time....did we really mean these words we said?

I promise to be true to you in good times and in bad, in sickness
and in health. I will love you and honor you all the days of my life. I, ____, take you, ____, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do us part...

These may not be everyone's words, but there is enough here to make anyone stop and think regardless of what you may have actually said to each other at your wedding/event.
What I found myself thinking was how much these words apply to friends as well. I found myself replacing the blanks above with specific names........then reading it again in that context hopefully wishing that at the end that I felt good about where I stood.

Honestly, with more names than I wanted to, I find myself lacking..... I have somehow rationalized and justified my own pride for dismissing these particular few, deciding to not be part of their lives, or at least in a much more diminished way.... Intentionally placing distance between them and me and somehow feeling smug and "right" about it.....

...... At the end of the day, I am wrong.....

Do the reasons I come up with really matter? Are my hurt feelings enought to sever relationships with people that I have or still actually love? Who cares if someone threw me under the proverbial bus? Maybe they embarassed me in a way that seemed so unforgiveable at the time. I can think of a hundred reasons why I could be "right" and justified in not being loyal, but as I think and "feel" through it, I can't escape the sense that I am wrong. My arguments don't hold water after all.

Surely, I am one who has and continues to have the kind of friends and loved ones that have never given up on me, no matter what, and there have been very good reasons why they shouldn't have done so...

So, my friends, should we join hands and ask ourselves what Chris is asking us to do? See if our Words really do matter that we say to each other? I feel a sense of recommitment and a desire to let bygones be bygones....water under the bridge as they say. I hope you do too....

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nQY4dIxY1H4&feature=feedf

"Cuz what kind of guy would I be..... if I was to leave when you need me most?"

In Memoriam: Vivi Guimaraes

2011-02-03T21:52:00.021-07:00

(Today) one of Heaven's daughters was called home..... she was a bright star in our small but special global village of EABers. We were better because she was part of us......
On paper she was Viveka. As for me and everyone else I knew, she was simply..... "Vivi"
I have no special claim on her, she wasn't my best friend, I did not spend significant time with her, I cannot say I was close to her. In fact, she was 2 grades older, which in high school is like 2 decades, and I could probably count on 2 hands the number of times she conversed with me directly......
So I ask myself.......what is it then? Why do I feel what I feel? Where does the dull ache in my head come from? The muddled thoughts and heavy heart? Why does it feel so especially personal? At the end of the day, I cannot say, but I think it was because she was part of something I belong to. Her leaving takes a little part of me with her because we are all still part of the EAB family despite the fact we were a tiny little high school in the middle of nowhere. We are bonded by our collective experience.
As I reflect back on my memories I can recall some things that did make my knowing her special.......What I remember most was what I saw as an interested observer.....I watched her deliver hundreds of individual "Hi's", "Hello's", "Oi's" and "Tchau's" that collectively won me over. She wore cheerful like a favorite pair of jeans, comfortable and natural..., it became her own "designer brand of fashion". She was a beautiful person on the inside and out. She had the ability to attract many.....you would want to be where she was and be part of what she was conversing about. There was a freshness about her that made things especially nice.

What was very special about Vivi was her smile...... Her smile could melt Alaska. Getting a direct "hit" smile from Vivi was a special treat. How generous she was with that gift. She made it her constant companion and everyone close by benefited and felt its radiance. She didn't play favorites with it..... rather she was willing to share it with the whole world freely, without hope or expectation of something in return...... My sense is that if you wanted to know Vivi, you just needed to feel a few of her smiles. I am fortunate I did.

She was the kind of person that without meaning to, could instantly make any Jr High School kid want to be a "man" and make any man want to be an "9th Grader" all over again.......Flirtacious....but never fake.
Above all else, she loved and had a big heart........ If there were one message I could leave with her today, it would be to let her know that she made an everlasting ripple in the EAB experience. We loved her as she was, despite what the world threw her way. Her trials didn't harden her heart, rather they opened it even further. Thank you Vivi for your life, your bright spirit, your acceptance, what you taught us all about love and friendship......You will be missed.
Yes....On paper she was "Viveka" . As for me..... she will always be "Vivi" and her smile filled the whole world.....
Abraco

Finishing Positions

2010-10-03T22:45:00.012-06:00

Accidentally came across this on FB today... on my brother's page...... It is my Mom, in her teens doing hula. The skirt was made from soft rope sent her by her brother Milo from the Philippines while he was in the service. If I haven't mentioned it before, Mom was a professional dancer and teacher. She taught dance to hundreds of people all throughout the world all different styles of dance. My love of dance came from her love and passion for dance....

I was completely caught off guard and wasn't prepared to receive the emotional wave of "saudade" that came over me. I had never in my life seen this picture of her before...

I was struck by her youthfulness and commitment to her craft. I always knew she loved Dance, but I never understood how much she loved "to" dance..... I knew it, but I never saw her do it much, so it was always Mom the dance "teacher" never the "performer". this simple and oh so elegant photo is exquisite to me.

She always talked about the "details" of dance....like how the arms, hands and fingers were supposed to be positioned. She was a great believer in "follow through" with every dance step or motion. She was all about the total finished and polished ends of dance, not just the steps in between that got you through the dance. I can't remember how many times she would talk and teach these "finishing" principles to her students...(which more often included her kids than others...)

Mom was not a great orator, speaker or communicator. Expressive, creative and enthusiastic..? oh yes... but she struggled for the words at times off the dance floor....but the principles were the same...she always taught us about doing the "basics" in life....like cleaning our rooms, dressing with clean clothes, brushing our teach, wearing good shoes, and "finishing" what we started..... she loved and respected people who "followed through".....

So ironic that only now, as I see this photo that I realize how what she was teaching in Dance class was what she was teaching us in life.... She wanted us to "end well" not just get through. but to do the basic things that would help us be successful later, to reach our full potential....or in other words to "finish" life's dance with the right positions. She knew that if we could get the basics down pat, then the little nuances of a finger position, a crook of the neck etc... would complete the dance.

So, what caught my eye dramatically when I saw this picture? ........it was the absolutely perfect right arm position. The elbow turned so gracefully with a completely "finished" right hand and finger position.....So beautiful and simple

...She actually "KNEW what she was talking about... she knew it because she felt it inside and made it apart of her. She never danced sloppily or lazily.....she didn't want me living my life any differently.... To think she knew it at such a very young age. It took my breath away to see her arm, hand and fingers this way for the very first time in my life, only now....ironically, after she is gone.

With tears streaming down my face I find myself wanting to let her know that now I know what she meant....... about finishing, ......about doing the basic little details that will ultimately complete the dance of life she had given me. I feel that I now have to reflect on my life and see if I am finishing in a way that she would be pleased with and following through will all the "steps" she taught me...... She left a legacy of her life that far surpassed her greatest performance on stage. She was a consumate artist, but she knew in the end, what was most important were finishing life's and God's steps and movements..... She "finished" her life's dance in perfect dance position and that has made all the difference to me.....

..............Mom, I never missed you more than right now.

Tyler Ward - Original Song - "Everything" - Available on iTunes

2010-09-23T21:39:00.000-06:00

Wonderful new song from a youtuber extraordinaire!

Turning the Tables....

2010-09-05T13:39:00.005-06:00

The other morning I was eating a bowl of cereal while reading a magazine and Alexa came up to me and suddenly grabbed the magazine and ripped it away and said defiantly:

" You can't read while you eat, if we can't watch TV while we do our Homework!!"

I was all "What??" She reminded me that I am always telling them (kids) that they can't watch TV while they do their homework and so as only 'smart-like-a-fox-Alexa can, she made the connection that I then in turn should not be able to enjoy any reading entertainment while doing the necessary chore of "eating"....... it made me think about it from a perspective that I never would have without her "intervention". In fact, the thought stayed with me all day long like an annoying subconscious nagging.......

FYI: Interestingly enough here are 2 links:

http://www.facebook.com/pages/Eating-While-Reading/372709172814

http://www.facebook.com/pages/Doing-homework-while-watching-TV/258275515808

Heartspace the Ultimate Treasure Trove

2010-08-30T23:08:00.005-06:00

As a kid, I loved reading books about pirates and their constant drive to search out buried treasure. They would go to great lengths to both both bury and then later find chests of treasure of gold, silver and all manner of precious things. The fantasy of it all always captured my imagination....

I have since thought much about treasure since those early and eager days of soaking in a good pirate story on a Friday afternoon after school.... What seemed so fantastical then has become a reality to me now.

I too have buried treasure. I have collected my own silver, gold and shiny things from my own journeys to faraway lands, they just don't happen to look like coins or jewels. My chest is full of singular exquisite experiences, each of which has been captured, recorded and "buried" deep in my treasure chest called my Heart.

There are names, faces, landscapes, images that never end and smells, oh yes....even smells! Wondrous smells that fill the senses like a thick fog that rises as each memory unfolds and makes itself known once again in my mind's eye. Smells that conjure up whole experiences...each with their own particular "scent". The familiarity of smell is so strong and it has so little to do with food, but rather it becomes an anchor for each treasured memory. The pungent smell of a busy open market in Indonesia, or the earthy-clean dirt smell after a summer rain fall in a mountainous rice paddy.

The treasure chest of my heart is so deep and wide. It never seems to matter how many people I meet or experiences I pass through, there is always room to put one more for which I feel so grateful.....I call it my "Heartspace"

What I enjoy most about my journeys that delve into my heart, are the small moments that have been tucked quietly away that sometimes have lay so dormant, they seem forgotten...until a smell, a name, a face, some reminder triggers that small but significant moment to instantly appear on the movie screen of my mind and suddenly relive a wondrous memory, one that was almost just forgotten, almost out of reach.....but never gone, never fading and always willing to be selected again and again for an instant burst of energy or for a balm of gilead, to heal a current hurt, mend bent feelings or simply to put a new smile on a well worn face.

There have been times when I didn't think I could fit any more into my heart, either too hurt or too full of love to allow more in. But, the reality is that despite my best efforts my heart has its' own mind, it stores things that I wouldn't have chosen to store, but often turns out to be some of the most special treasure of all.

I write my own stories now, of traveling afar and finding treasure that I add to the miracle of my never ending, always expanding heart.

What a Cat actually taught me

2010-07-13T17:28:00.009-06:00

Something happened yesterday that is a first for our family. We had noticed that Blossom, our cat of 8 years wasn't around after a day and night. This is very unusual for her. She was a very curious cat, but only within a 10 foot circle.....meaning, she was very cautious and never roamed the streets or neighborhood like other cats. She was very afraid of other cats and usually did not fare well in spats. We often found ourselves "saving" her at night when others would wander into her space. We always vehemently tried to shoo the others away to protect Blossom. She was one of the more friendly and socialble felines I have known. She loved being part of the family. Often we would go on walks and she would come thinking she was part of the pack. She didn't like to be alone and was gracious with her time by taking turns with all the kids, sleeping on their beds for a portion of the night. Early on she would do more biting and scratching, but she finally grew out of that. She was naturally restless during winters, being cooped up inside and would race around the house to rid herself of nervous idle energy. The kids adored her. I was the most aloof. I didn't ever have a pet, other than birds that for the most part weren't emotionally connected to me very much.

Having grown up overseas, I was trained in my youth to pick up a rock when I saw a dog or a cat.....as they were usually living in the streets, often diseased and rabid and not looking for a nice "pupppy" moment, rather their next meal! I never developed a feeling of empathy or love for an animal in particular. Most of the time I remember being afraid of dogs and just not liking cats. I wasn't Blossom's best friend.... I didn't cuddle with her or pet her very much. My allergies didn't help engender any affection either..... I would occasionally pet her when noone was looking in order to maintain the reputation of being the "big bad Dad who didn't like her". Some of that was true, but not all..... I didn't know how much until she was gone.

So after 2 days we started to worry and put up signs. We called the pound and then we went looking. The dread feeling in the pit of the stomach began to form and Chelta and I braced ourselves for the worst. Yesterday afternnoon the kids found her not too far from home silent in the street after being hit by a car. They came back home crying with shock and were unconsolable in their grief as they told us. We hugged them fiercely and let them cry. Some caring neighbors helped us retrieve Blossom's body and we placed her in a towel and we buried her in our yard. There was a special spot under some trees. We said a prayer of thanks and wished her well on her next journey..... They kids were very cute and made some creative heastones which are now placed on her resting spot. A very fitting restspot.

What I wasn't prepared for at all was the pang of loss that I felt. It was clear to me that I was "involved" and did feel something after all. It was actually kind of encouraging for me to know that I wasn't completely devoid of all feeling even though I invested so little. Part of it was empathy for the kids, but there was definitely a hollower spot inside me.... I have come to the realization that I only have Blossom to blame for this...it is her fault that I actually did come to admire her and her ways with people. I am thankful for that "pang" of hurt, of loss.

It reminded me that although I may not like everyone in this world, I can't really completely divorce myself from all feeling or total lack of association. Even fools have their bright spots.... they even have Mom's that love them! I am not sure if I would have drawn this conclusion had she stayed... I never reflected on what a cat might be teaching me!!! Heavens..... I would never spend time on that..... but in her absence, I found myself digging down deep and feeling these nuggets of sorrow and she ended up teaching me something valuable about my relationships with others....especially those that may not be in my personal "hall of fame" but that I must love regardless..... and look for those things that are positive and enlightening, even if I have to look deep to find them. Blossom, you crafty ol cat... you have earned my respect and love after all..... touche! Happy journeys.....ate a proxima visita.

Scratching a recurring Itch.......

2010-04-26T21:51:00.007-06:00

I have always been that person that looks longingly down every lane that looks like this picture.... It is difficult to squelch the desire to turn down every interesting looking lane. I have found that this also occurs on the inside of me too.....Every so often, I find a certain restlessness inside.... It usually is unprovoked and sudden. The feeling is not anxiety, but rather feeling that something "pulls" me elsewhere. It is not always a place that I can articulate, but the "pull" is strong, pervasive and persistent. It starts with a notion, then progresses into a slow steay beat of a drum. The pace doesn't quicken, but it becomes constant. It isn't an "itch" that I can "scratch" locally.... meaning, I can't simply go to a movie, read a book, or go shopping to escape the feeling.

It usually remains until I actually physically leave where I am and travel to a place that gives me a new perspective and reminds me of who I am. I am often confused by the idea that that "leaving" often means "finding" myself. Regardless......until I do, the beat becomes a dull ache in my soul. Recently that ache came, but I really had no place, plans or way of leaving... but then a trip appeared-- Chicago for 4 days. Wow! Did that do the trick. I walked for hours downtown, strolled along the boardwalks parallel to the inlet waterways, took pictures of tall beautiful buildings, ate at open air cafe's and watched the teeming life of people passing by. There was a sense of business and everyone was going somewhere.

I can't seem to articulate why, but I found again the return of that comfortable feeling of remembering who I was seep into my soul.....it felt familiar as if I knew the place and it's people for a long time and the place knew and accepted me back..... It is silly to think I have to go somewhere else to remember who I am because I know who I am on paper.... I am my Mother's son, my wife's husband and my children's father......right? You would think that one would know these things without any shadow of a doubt. I know that I am a child of God that I have purpose and meaning in my web of relationships. This "itch" however... is something else. I used to think that I would grow out it of when I got "bigger". At times I thought the feeling was really just a manifestation of my own selfishness, which I still am not sure it isn't. I would like to think that it isn't, but maybe I am self-deceived in saying that.

All I really know is that I feel the "pull" and when I do finally leave and immerse myself somwhere else that a balm forms and erases the ache. I come back different, at least for a while, feeling alive again and refreshed. But above all else, I have a greater sense of being connected to everything and that helps remind me of who I am, which I find incredibly meaningful. Being able to feel deeply in this way is a relief and unburdens me in a inexplicable way. There are some itches that I hope never go away.......

Saudade

2010-03-29T19:55:00.048-06:00

Saudade... Nothing can stir my emotions more quickly than hearing this word... It is an example of what I love best about other languages. It is one of those unique words that when translation is attempted, it only gets close...but never quite gets the full essence. In basic terms it means: longing or nostalgia which are both great words by themselves that evoke emotion in all of us. However, it does not convey the depth and magnitude of what it means to the Portuguese speakers of the world....For those who come to speak "Saudade" from their own experience, they enter a world that has been described by many poets and musicians as "suffering of the heart". I learned about this early in my life before I ever knew the word. Although Brazil and Portugal call it their own, many identify with it. Third Culture Kids in particular understand the true meaning and anyone that has spent time away from their home abroad that has immersed themselves into the fabric of other cultures....Casual "tourists" do not qualify. This is about climbing into the eyes of a people and then searching until the soul deep within is discovered. For me, Saudade has always been closely associated with "Doce Amargo" which means "Bittersweet". The reason Saudade has found such a comfortable place in my heart is because I spent my childhood making and then leaving new friends, places, cultures, sounds and smells. I never lived those moments casually, on the contrary, I gave my heart and soul to each place and left of bit of myself in each place just as each place in turn left a permanent bit on me. I lived much of my youth "longing" for those memories with a lump in my throat, my heart "hurting good" always feeling a profound sense of gratitude that I could feel and hurt that much for people and culture that was not my own.
Khalil Gibran captured much of this feeling for me in his poem "The Prophet"

Joy and Sorrow

Your joy is your sorrow unmasked.

And the selfsame well from which your laughter rises was oftentimes filled with your tears.

And how else can it be?

The deeper that sorrow carves into your being, the more joy you can contain.

Is not the cup that holds your wine the very cup that was burned in the potter's oven?

And is not the lute that soothes your spirit, the very wood that was hollowed with knives?

When you are joyous, look deep into your heart and you shall find it is only that which has given you sorrow that is giving you joy.

When you are sorrowful look again in your heart, and you shall see that in truth you are weeping for that which has been your delight.

Some of you say, "Joy is greater thar sorrow," and others say, "Nay, sorrow is the greater."

But I say unto you, they are inseparable.

Together they come, and when one sits, alone with you at your board, remember that the other is asleep upon your bed.

Verily you are suspended like scales between your sorrow and your joy.

Only when you are empty are you at standstill and balanced.

When the treasure-keeper lifts you to weigh his gold and his silver, needs must your joy or your sorrow rise or fall.

I recently came across the words of Pablo Neruda, a famous Chilean poet who wrote this incredible passage which caught the essence of Saudade....

Saudade

Saudade é solidão acompanhada,
é quando o amor ainda não foi embora,
mas o amado já...

Saudade é amar um passado que ainda não passou,
é recusar um presente que nos machuca,
é não ver o futuro que nos convida...

Saudade é sentir que existe o que não existe mais...

Saudade é o inferno dos que perderam,
é a dor dos que ficaram para trás,
é o gosto de morte na boca dos que continuam...

Só uma pessoa no mundo deseja sentir saudade:
aquela que nunca amou.

E esse é o maior dos sofrimentos:
não ter por quem sentir saudades,
passar pela vida e não viver.

O maior dos sofrimentos é nunca ter sofrido...

At the core of Saudade is love but only if it is just .... "out of reach". For the Portuguese, the suffering for them was knowing their best years were centuries ago, when famous seamen roamed the world discovering new worlds....

It is very telling that saudade came from such a maritime culture as the Golden Age Portuguese. Imagine the wives and children of sailors, leaving them for long, mysterious periods of time at sea. Sailors’ families were perhaps the first to feel real saudade, not knowing if their loved one would ever return, but also being proud of their spirit and accomplishments.

What buffers my feelings of saudade during my earthly life is the knowledge that I have that loved ones, regardless of distance or geography will be met again in the next life and I shall feel again the warmth of their embrace, the hole in my heart will be filled with their celebration. I will speak their language and they will understand the soul of me, not just my words. This is what I truly long for... what I have true Saudade for, with the exception that it is now no longer just out of reach, but rather....... just within. Maybe there is another untranslateable word that Heaven uses which is Saudade fulfilled.... something that fills all the gaps that have been beyond our capability here. Could it be that word is Grace? A small still voice whispers to me that it is....... the word that reconciles Joy and Sorrow, that fills the void Saudade creates. Thank God for One special heart that suffered above all others, that our hearts longing could find Eternal rest.

Unplanned Lane Changes....

2010-03-07T17:35:00.003-07:00

I asked a group of people today during a training session… “what happens when you have alignment problems with your car?” After the usual suspect responses surfaced, this one floated above the others…”You get unplanned lane changes” I laughed out loud while thinking "What an excellent response". My mind wouldn't let the metaphor leave all day long … There was something more there, I just needed to sift through it a bit to find out what it was….. It has something to do with “Change” Sometimes we intentionally cause change in our lives….. other times change seems to happen “to” us. It is the latter that I think applies here. Those unforeseen, gotcha’s…
One simple lane change can mean a world of difference. Robert Frost coined the phrase "The Road Not Taken" in his unforgettable poem...whether by choice or not, one can get a different view, a different perspective, a different experience as a result of a lane change. I think that is the trick…. Not wondering how you got there or always why…but rather focusing forward, in on the new view… what do I see and what can I learn? Often it is the attitude with which we frame our "lane" and that is what I think the poet meant when he said "I took the one less traveled by, And that has made all the difference..."

Fingerprints in My Life

2010-03-07T17:13:00.004-07:00

I have been reflecting on “fingerprints” and their meaning in my life.

There are mine on others, and theirs on me. The cool thing about fingerprints is that although invisible to the naked eye, each print is unique and is linked to a specific individual and memory. The idea that there are thousands of individual prints on me that all have a name and face warms my heart. They say that we are never really alone…. I believe it. Although I could find myself alone in the mountains or on a beach I am not alone.

They say that God is always with us…. Could it be that He is with us by virtue of these many fingerprints ? Each has a face, a name and a distinct impression left by loving heart and hands that have branded our beings with memories. It is ironic in a way that we spend a good portion of our lives removing unwanted fingerprints—we clean the fridge, countertops and windows…. As for those on me..... I hope they never leave!

There is something about their quiet persistence on my life that I cherish. Although memories can fade, the influence doesn’t…the mark has been made, the invisible imprint bonded forever....

Summer Afternoon

2009-11-12T17:38:00.001-07:00

Do you find yourself ever passing something, then on second thought stopping and exploring a bit further. I was driving, saw this place, something said "stop!" so I did. It didn't say anything else, but I felt I should "browse" a bit and have myself a familiar "self-walk about."

Being alone with my own thoughts for any period of focused time can be very dangerous, but on this occasion I took the risk. It was such a pleasant and relaxing environment . I found myself thinking about how places like this can cause some many emotions within. There have been numerous occasions where I find a ......."place"...... and there is something about these places in and of themselves that forms a solid memory of emotion inside. It first causes an emotion, then quickly leads to reflection of what the feelings might mean and almost always they lead the mind to wander aimlessly and although only for a few brief moments....it almost always seems like forever, as if time stops.... maybe you know what I mean.

I am not always sure when this will happen, but I always know when it does. It is often most unexpected as in this case. I love that these "postcard" moments can be so moving and convincing..... of deep down spiritual wonderment. To me these moments make up the ultimate slideshow of my life. I can hear the music as each slide transitions to the next.....a long sequence of lifelong moments that truly show the real me... My "Youtube" video that I take with me and keep adding to. No......World hunger wasn't solved, no war's ended and no shattering revelations revealed, but rather a moment to pause and remember who I am. I thrive in these moments!

Birthday Memories

2009-09-30T13:17:00.005-06:00

Just had my birthday and got this card....from "Paco". It was hilarious and I loved it. Not only does one benefit from the visual image of Paco dancing, inviting others to join him in the dance of life, but one can also become mesmerized by the sparkles from the actual blue glitter found on the card when in the right light angles!! Wow what a bonus.

Is there a lesson here? Oh absolutely yes, my friend there is..... I have friend that so revers me that they would go out of their way to sift through thousands of useless, meaningless Hallmark cards and come up with this gem! Hah! Do you have such a friend? Makes one think doesn't it.....? I certainly hope you do.. I am lucky I do......

So, I will join Paco in his celebration of dance and life...........I just won't wear the frickin' tights

Leadership by "Me"

2009-09-30T13:08:00.000-06:00

I was at my first Information Technology Conference recently and there was a great keynote speaker Dr. Jackie Freiberg who had some cool spin on Leadership.

I took a picture with my phone of one of the slides that was shown which provoked a lot of thought. Her burning platform is that we "choose" to be leaders, vs. waiting to be assigned that role.

The idea that we are essentiually "designed" to choose is so powerful. I love this notion and I think it goes beyond the work roles we lead within the 4 walls of a work cubicle (...ok mine only has 3...but who is counting?) but has implications and applications in all our roles of life: Husband, Mother, Brother, Teacher, Son, Father, Individual Contributor.....and yes...even those of Twitterer, Texter and Social Networker Extraordinaire.....

If my DNA is designed to be free to choose......then for sure I am completely and ultimately "Defined" by my choices. I am built to stand up and choose.....It is up to me. Although this isn't a new principle, I responded to the strength and emotionality of the "slogan". Sometimes in the work place we "wait" to be "acted upon" instead of "acting". We seem to always want someone to tell us what to do. We want all the expectations and rules to be explained to us....Often they are elusive and not clear...So what do we do in those situations...Blame our boss?, point at the lack of organizational maturity? Sit back and mire ourselves in non helpful rhetoric?? Yes..often we all do this.. We hide behind the excuse that the mission isn't clear, the objectives unknown and the vision blurry. Leaders set the vision, even if that means on our own without any supervision at all. We can choose to define our path, make sense where there is none and march forward. We just have to want to...

I admire people who do this..Not just "mavericks" that throw caution to the wind, but rather Innovative thinkers that decide to reach out beyond their "cubicle" thinking and build bridges between departments and people that wouldn't normally have anything to do with each other. They become "catalysts" or "enzymes" for change. They find ways to replace"Yeah, but!" with "Why Not?" They transform sideways like wildfire....they don't wait for the "top down" approach and the out of reach promise of "alignment".

Someone wise early in my career said "Aaron, rather than worrying about roles and positions, just "find a need and fill it".... I have integrated this as my slogan for my career. It has helped guide me immensely to create new opportunities vs. waiting for them to "magically " appear. I have found that by caring less about position, title and level, and more about needs, delivering value and building relationships that I have had so many doors open to me that have enriched my life, introduced me to new people and ironically enough.....money has never been an issue as a result....it always just followed nicely behind that mantra.

Dance, Love, Sing.....Live

2009-08-07T22:24:00.004-06:00

Brice Royer from TCK posted something today about what one would do if they found out they only had 6 months to live. I like walking through these types of exercises because it helps me do something my Father always taught me.... to not only "see" ahead how things might be....but to "feel" ahead as well...

What quickly started out as a list of things "I" wanted to do.....turned quickly into a list of "People" I would want to see and spend time with. Sure, I would love to finally write enough songs and record that "one" CD, and see Italy and Spain, and go to Wimbledon or the US Open, watch Ronaldinho play "ao vivo", and dance! Nothing wrong with that right?

But, in the end, it would come down to people for me. I would spend 2 weeks making lists of names of everyone....everyone in my life that I could recall, and then spend all of my money, resources and time tracking them down and telling them I loved them and how special they are to me...... the more I think about it....it is the only thing I could do without leaving with regrets...

Yes...without question I would trade a peek at Michelangelo's David for a 1/2 hour walk with my daughter........ and......... along the way, I would ask forgiveness of a few as well....

........What would you do?..... I am curious

A Room with a View...

2009-08-03T16:38:00.011-06:00

I spent a good deal of time on my roof the past week reshingling...because the pitch is so steep I often had to pause and rest. During these mini-breaks I found myself canvassing the entire neighborhood from a totally different vantage point. I loved the "birdseye" view but the enhanced perspective even more... I could track many people and things going on at the same time, as the circle of my peripheral vision was much wider....

.....then my thoughts would take me back to my younger years in Indonesia where me and my siblings would spend all kinds of time on our roof. It was so large and unique with lots of nooks and crannies for hiding. A favorite game was Hide n Seek. My bro Roland was particularly good at this...he would dissappear on the top of a roof of all places and we literally wouldn't be able to find him. It was great fun and often I would find myself up there just to think and be alone. I loved the perspective of being hidden but up in the sky....... it was different than being in a closet or under a bed. It was a place that would elicit dreams and fantastical thinking....

So....my mini-breaks sometimes turned into major nostalgic moments... I decided then and there that the next time my wife was gone I would take my 3 youngest kids up on the roof and share with them my foreign rooftop stories! Plus I knew they would love going up there. The first time up they were giddy with fear and excitement together. They loved it! I would tell them how to walk appropriately, what to avoid and where they could "hang out" without anyone seeing them, underneath the shade of some large leafy overhangs. I would tell them my stories of hide and seek, and other adventures. The other reason they loved it is becaue their older brother doesn't know it yet! Ha! He will be so ......shocked! So I totally loved the idea of passing the baton to them, now they can have their own rooftop adventures in their own way....(and hopefully not die!)

POSTLUDE:..... God...... must have the ultimate "rooftop" view and perspective. He can see all, all at once. He is 'hidden' only in some ways, but ever watchful. He is so "high" and yet can "zoom" in on any one event or person at will.... I normally don't like the feeling of someone looking over my shoulder or the notion of being spied upon...but yet in this context.....I like it....alot!. I felt a bit of that just being 30 feet higher myself. He, being a 'bazillion' feet higher can only mean He needs to be so He can keep his circle of peripheral vision perfectly sized to see all of us.....

Quality:Time

2009-07-15T11:36:00.005-06:00

What is QUALITY ? I remember distinctly in a college Org Behavior class when I first heard this question as it was posed to us by our professor..... in the end he said QUALITY = The CUSTOMER I remember pondering that for a long time....at first it didn't make sense to me intuitively. I always associated Quality with words like: The best, high competence, expensive, durable, reliable, excellent....

So, there are many definitions. Here is a generic one that I will use for the purpose of my post today:

Measure of excellence or state of being free from defects, deficiencies, and significant variations. or in other words: "The totality of features and characteristics of a product or service that bears its ability to satisfy stated or implied needs."

So, ultimately, only the customer can say what is or is not "Excellent"....not the producer of said service or product, even if they continuously improve that product or service again and again....it is not up to them to know, rather it is up to the "consumer" or Customer to decide if their needs are truly met or not. That is why some feel McDonalds is high quality - because they know exactly what they get every time they go. Others would disagree and relegate McD's to be on the "low" side of quality. Just as some would rate a Ferrari as extremely high quality, there are others who value reliability, do not.

The other day, I learned something about QUALITY TIME . I was at my in-laws out on their deck, which overlooks the 11th fairway of a golf course. A very peaceful and serene setting with the Red Rocks of Southern Utah as the backdrop against lush green grass and trees of the 11th hole. I was laying down on a comfy lawn recliner allowing the warmth and natural ambient noise gently waft me to a near dozing state. My son Braden came out (10) and he came over and gently moved onto the recliner with me and snuggled in. It was a wordless moment and I put my arm around him securing him in. 1/2 hour passed and we both fell into our own respective dream states and slept. When one of us stirred, it woke the other and as silently as he slipped in, he snuck out and went on his way. No words were spoken, yet I felt incredibly fulfilled and satisfied and my sense was that he did too.

That small experience told me that "The totality of features and characteristics of a product or service that bears its ability to satisfy stated or implied needs" had been accomplished. I wasn't "selling" anything to him...in this case being "quality time" with kids...but rather a service was rendered unconsciously that satisfied impled needs of both of us...not just Braden.

It forced me to re-think what the world calls "quality time". Is there a difference between a spending "time" vs "quality time" with kids? Does spending 12 hours in a car going to Disneyland automatically mean you are spending "quality time" with your kids? Or, the promise of spending a "day" together that is mostly about getting "check boxes" checked off and less of any real interaction? Have you ever spent "time" doing a puzzle or game with a kid, while your mind and heart are really somewhere else? Isn't that still Quality Time?

I don't think the Parent "producer" gets to define what Quality Time is or means......the Kid "customer" does. All the planning for the best "product/service" in a parents mind for quality time will most likely fall short if it doesn't meet the stated or implied needs of the customer. How easy for me to fall into that trap of self-deception convincing myself that by spending "time" with my kids that I would automatically be "filling their needs"....

Sometimes I may get lucky, but maybe it is time for me to start surveying my customers a bit better....spending more time getting insight from Heaven on what their "implied" needs might be, and listening to those they are "stating" that I often gloss over and less about what I think they need...

ab imo pectore....

2009-06-01T19:51:00.003-06:00

I find myself at a loss when it comes to articulating that which I am most thankful for....There are the obvious usual suspects: Family, faith, kids, house, freedom and safety etc..... Even though we should treat everyday as Christmas, I for one, typically fall short. But, I am grateful that events like Thanksgiving and Christmas gently "nudge" my soul into remembrance....This year it felt more like a "kick in the pants" so, I figured I would spend a bit of time reflecting and capturing a few special things not often found on the "Top 10" list that I am particularly grateful for:

- Each Breath.... I inherited Mom's asthma, although it took her life, I am grateful she shared some of it with me. At times....when I find myself struggling for air and breath, I find a quiet dark place to relax, focus and recover..... it is in these moments I often feel close to her and draw upon her courage to get through.

- Water....particularly of the "Hot" kind. I find water amazing -- Earth's blood. I have strong vivid memories of playing in the very warm rains of Indonesia with my younger brother. We would climb trees, play basketball and explore during great rainfalls thinking we were great adventurers impervious to the elements! The blueness of cold water and the "green glassnessness" of Lake Powell.... In the end Hot showers when cold are when I like it the most....

- Empathy.... Heinz Kohut defined empathy as:
“the capacity to think and feel oneself into the inner life of another person.”
To those who show me they understand me, I am extremely grateful......as not many do genuinely. I have found it cannot be faked, often mistaken with Sympathy and can draw people close to you, even when you only know a smidgeon about them. It has been a good friend to me both on the receiving and the delivery -- as the "Empathy Symbol" illustrates so well it is a 2 way street, can't really be done in selfishness and fosters more love for others when implemented.

- Music.... What can I say? I know people who console themselves with pets.... especially during sad times..... For me it has always been music. Music has taken me to places that are not on "Mapquest"....Music is the Sister of Imagination... Music often ignites my imagination and then takes me on fantastical journeys. I can say I know what it is to fly, because music has given me wings. Music inspires, comforts, enobles, and has been a light in dark times. It speaks to my spirit and stirs my soul in inexplicable ways..... I love getting lost in its' spell....

- The perfect pair of jeans.... So vain..I know, but it is true. They only come around ever decade or so, maybe even a lifetime.....and you know when you have them.....because all your others ones "aren't them"..... right? You try to hang on as long as society lets' you (ahh...the holes) and the way they just make you feel.....well, it is like you can do no wrong!! My best are still folded up -- unwearable, but a man can dream right....?

“Blue jeans are the most beautiful things since the gondola.”

- Discovering paths less travelled.... no explanation needed..... Here is one of my faves .... The Gardens of Versailles. I got lost this day....but "found" some important things in the end. I am grateful for parents who loved getting "lost" and experiencing new things..... what wonderful doors they opened up to me. I haven't found an door that I didn't find "interesting".....

- The right Dance with the right Music with the right People..... well, the perfect Trifecta! (oh yeah...with the right jeans) *see previous blog post about Dancing. I am thankful that it is ok to express the joie de vivre through dance. That it is ok to do anywhere and anytime with no apologies....even if your kids call you weird. I am convinced there will be dancing in Heaven

- Spending a night with my good friend Francisco at "Chez Frankie" in Atlanta.... We have literally talked all night, slept, brunched, and resumed talking, listened to music, reminisced on old times, talked about life and the pursuit of happiness, shared secrets and our hearts..... We have done it about a 1/2 dozen times....Hallmark memories for me. (*I discovered Gibran on my first visit to Chez Frankie's in Atlanta.) I can't wait to come to his housewarming party as he intiaties his new home

- Memories..... To me they are a lifeline, a constant reminder that I have lived and loved others...that I have mattered even as a tiny dot in a big world...that my heart was engaged,

that I contributed....not only "consumed". They validate my existence and help me remember who I am.

"Mister God this is Anna".... Is it too silly to keep a childhood dream alive by hoping I can meet Anna one day? Few things have broken my heart open and turned it inside out as Anna did in this book. She was meant for another world and time.....but I am grateful for the few moments God shared her with us.....and how she spoke directly to me, I will never forget.

Chelta..... No ordinary love, from an extraordinary woman....only a few know how much she is willing to sacrifice and.......... only 1 knows how she can "save" someone from the depths of despair. God's consumate daughter. Beauty that takes your breath away, a spirit that will shake your soul and clarity of purpose that never wavers. She is unmovable, unquenchable and possesses a fire for life that never flickers. How I am with her I will never fully understand......

te amo ab imo pectore

"You" by Schiller feat. Colbie Caillat

2009-03-13T09:56:00.012-06:00

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=h6nrPbQxIpU - hope you enjoy

I have followed Schiller for a while mostly for his ambient pop dance tunes....But came across this one late last night and it kind of captivated me in a more soulful way. (He does some great collaboration with many artists including Lisa Gerrard and others......)

Although the overall beat makes me tap to the rythm, I like the lyrics, they remind me of two things:

1. Unrequited love.....which is always interesting to me. Alot of my friends are dealing with this right now.....I guess people always will.

2. From a different perspective, it is also reminds me how I have often felt about being a TCK (Third Culture Kid) -- feeling alienated at times in my own country. The process of "repatriation" was the most difficult in my life. The one place I always thought would be "Home" .....at last, after all the years of being overseas turned out to be the most "foreign" of them all...especially Utah, home of my faith and family. So, I replace the word "YOU" in this song with any place I lived that I still long for. Mostly this would be Brazil. So, I still long for Brazil, my friends, the music, the culture, my incredible experiences there with other TCKids and friends at church and school. I have moved a few places in the US thinking that would be a way to "scratch that itch" and that has helped. But feeling completely at "home" is still elusive.......for the most part I am reconciled to the reality that I have made choices that will most likely keep me here in Utah for a long time. I am pretty ok with all that comes with those decisions.....But still down deep, from time to time, I take out a bottle of "saudade" (nostalgia) and open it up and wallow in the heady aroma of my unique past and am grateful that I still have longings...and this song captures that for me.

YOU
Turn down the silence, Inside my head Bring back the colors Were you insane?
Further from where I´ve started
Further to go Keeping my heart under control
Why do I still feel you? Feel you.... And though you´ve gone I still feel you, feel you All I need is you......All I need is to feel you, feel you
Why did you change your mind and run away? Thoughts of you by my side are starting to fade I know that you should be mine, So I wont let you go Everyday I´m trying to get close
Why do I still feel you? Feel you ......And though you've gone I still feel you, feel you.
All I need is you All I need is to feel you, feel you
Stop running all the time don´t fight the feeling inside Cause when you try to hide don´t matter where you go it´s deep in your soul

First Time in Heels....

2009-03-13T07:52:00.003-06:00

Last Sunday I was coming down the stairs and McKenna (daughter) brushed by me on her way up....Something caught my eye and I looked back and she was wearing heels.....! The image stopped me in my tracks.... The words started out of my mouth without thinking...."hey, what do you think you are doing in those?" I said. She smiled and said "I am wearing Mom's heels". Obviously...but that wasn't what I was really asking.

Nevertheless, at the moment my mind was confused....ok, she was now 12 and all, but still....HEELS?? Not yet right? Isn't that more like 15 - 16?? Geez!

She proceeded to clunk up the stairs. I meandered down and kept getting ready for church, but the image wouldn't leave me and something was bothering me......

So what was I asking her? I think what I was really asking was "Hey, what do you think you are doing being all grown up enough to wear heels already." All of a sudden, here I was in one of those surreal moments, those "rites of passage" that we all go through. I didn't know there was one for "First time in Heels" but this experience definitely qualified as one. A few minutes later I walked back up and found her, I asked her to turnaround so I could see all of her in this "moment" she was having.... She was smilliing, also now wearing one of Mom's jackets too.... Wow, she looked beautiful. I finally swallowed hard and smiled back at her...I said to myself "Ok Aaron, it is going to be ok......I think". She wasn't very elegant in them, but it didn't matter....it felt right in the end. It was time for McKenna to pass through that special door in her life -- leaving her childhoold in one room, while embracing young womanhood in the the next -- excited to embrace the new experiences and opportunities that would shape the next phase of her life. Amazing what a small pair of shoes can do to transform a little girl -- She would never be the same again.....and neither would I.

"Spread your wings and fly"

It's the Little Things that Count......

2009-03-03T00:05:00.003-07:00

I came home the other day from a meeting and there was a big yellow 8x10 sheet of paper taped to the front of the gargage....It said:

"Hi Dad, we are playing in the back yard...

so don't worry when you go in"

I am not sure why, but I stopped and smiled...I examined the poster more closely, I could tell by the detail and the balloon letters that they had taken some time to do it "nice"...it wasn't a hurried note. Of course it was my two girls that did it. But more importantly, I loved the way it made me feel inside. That they took the time to concern themselves with what I might feel coming into an empty house and maybe worrying about them.... What amazing Emotional Intelligence kids have. What is it about adults sometimes that makes us regress or lose our ability to just be in the moment...everything gets "scripted" and we live out these stupid roles and we forget or just don't do the little notes that go such a long way to making one feel cared for and concerned with... I know many of us do those things...but it was a beautiful and simple reminder to me that a few key words can put a smile on the face, change a heart for the better and bring peace to a Dad. Yes, I didn't even go check on them....I wanted to honor their note and although they didn't have to do it, it made all the difference for me......

I wonder if God leaves us notes all over, trying to get us to notice His hand in our lives....Simple "notes" posted here and there, with simple words that when found and read make all the difference with just a little attention from us. If He feels anything like I felt then His heart would be full of joy and peace. I hope I don't miss too many of His yellow notes....

Walking in NYC...

2009-02-26T00:32:00.007-07:00

So....I find it interesting that certain big cities have their own way with me....ok, that sounds a bit weird...but it is true. In Amsterdam I ride bikes everywhere, in Paris I metro all over, see the sites, stop in at a cafe and watch people. In Munich I drive the autobahn and find a great bierhaus and make dinner last all night. In Jakarta I immerse myself in the pungent markets, bargain for curios and shop..... In Shanghai you get a car and a guide and go browse 200 tailors shops and bargain for hours until you find a complete custom suit for a $60.00 completed overnight.....ok and then stop in for a little neck and shoulder massage. In Brazil it is all about the beach, churrasco and dancing all night long.

NYC, it has always been about long timeless walks for me. Even though the first time was all about seeing the sights....I had long walks going from one to the other. There was so much to see, so many sounds it is as if the city "requires" you to be on the street.

It is January 23rd, I am standing on the sidelines, getting my bearings, setting the grit in my jaw, gauging the pace of the never ending stream of people and calculating the right first step.........I slip into the fast paced stream of the streets. The ever present sounds of industry and traffic are ever present, but in a short while they all seem to fade into background ambient white noise. The steam of the cities' underbelly rises from every vent and grate as if an active volcano is reminding you that the city's heartbeat is very much alive and just below the surface. I start walking briskly, to keep up with the flow and energy.

Everyone is in black, except for me... I have my 80's black and white tweed extra long overcoat (Dick Tracy-esque....yes people tease me, but I love it) pulled around me, tied at the waist with my collar flipped up around a wool scarf. I am warm, but the artic wind gusts unpredictably and whips at my face and ears, giving me an intant full body chill. I am going to have to quicken my stride in order to get into the necessary groove and vibe of the flow. I start at 48th street and head east for 4 long blocks. Right before I turn left to go north, I have found my stride and am in a drafting position--ready for any slight change in the "peloton" of people all around me...people are in the own worlds although only inches apart.. cell phones, texting, eating, reading, living their lives as they walk. They only sleep for a few short hours in the studio boxes high above the teeming life of the sidewalks and streets. It is in the street where they truly "live". Although I am able to keep up with the pace, I know I don't belong...it is not my "country" and I am just an alien observer taking a snapshot of someone else's world. But the energy is infectious and I want to be a part of it...so I walk on.....

I head towards 69th Street. As each block passes I transition from watching everyone else and begin to recede into my own thoughts. I find that in no time at all I am lost deep into my mind's eye playing out stories of what it might be like if I lived there....what would I do.....who would I meet and what would I see and eat.... would the city "harden" me? ....Would I get burned out?.... would NYC live up to it's reputation. This particular night I meet a wonderful friend of a very very close friend. We find a small quaint wonderful Italian place and share an authentic margherita pizza... the tomatoes and cheese are just right....the basil and olive oil complete the circle. We talk for hours about our mutual friend. Time stops for a while....the the inevitable phone rings... kids need tending and friends need to leave.

I find myself back on the streets with a long walk back to the Hotel. I relish the idea of losing myself again in my thoughts, now fueled with a brand new moment to fuse into my existing memories. I contemplate the beauty of friendships, how one simple connection can lead to so many others....how we are all really all connected in one giant web....we just don't have the time here to meet everyone of us, so we reach out and make memories with a few choice ones a long the way.... and hope that is enough to get us through.

As the late night noise lessens around me, my thoughts deepen, I am now living the lives of my two friends... two friends who have found each other and have been together for many years, but never really together... My mind plays out scenes of their lives...completely randomly...I can see each of them vividly in specific situations, imagining how they found each other, how they have become close and the things that keep them from becoming closer. My mind wanders as if it knows where it should go, unaided by any scripts or prompts....it takes me to places that shed light on what might make them tick, I can all of sudden see why they form the opinions and thoughts they do, I can see it from their perspective, I can almost feel their joys and pain.....and I find myself with wet eyes realizing that they have so much to offer one another yet they aren't able to see what I can see in my mind, because they can only see themselves.

I feel my heart hurting a bit....with the realization of what "could" be...but probably won't be... It is heavy feeling that seems to match the cold city and icy wind.....This is NYC, it isn't bright and "fun"...it is brutal and true. Ironically, I realize that I don't feel sad a at all but rather a rich sense of melancholic honesty...a hurt that still feels "good" because it isn't sugar coated -- just like the City.....A refreshing look at what is "real" and not what is "ideal". I am not sure why it only happens here... all I know is that walking in the Big Apple brings out emotions and feelings that mean a lot to me.....

New meets Ancient

2008-11-24T14:40:00.004-07:00

This is one of my favorite pictures and it led to one of the most thoughful gifts I have received....from Chelta.

It was only a few years ago when I found this amongst my father's trunk full of slides and photos. I had never seen it before. When I was told the little dude was me I was so glad that I had some momento of Iraq. We lived there in late 60's and were eventually evacuated due to the 6 day war. But before that happened, my parents, who had a penchant for all things cultural, had the good sense to take some excursions and family field trip while there. This was one of those. I do not know the name of the place, but it was just a really cool place that they stopped one afternoon and with the setting moon and snapped this shot of these ruins.

I have always liked the juxtaposition of the "new" (me) against the "old" (ruins)..... There is something about the innocence and naivete of the small child being in the forefront of the dramatic backdrop of ruins. Surely battles have been fought here, hordes of people have passed through these walls each with their own story written by each passing footprint. Time has eroded the structure, but it hasn't diminished the majesty and noble "personality" it still maintains. Sometimes Americans make reference to "old" things in this country....They don't really know what old is.....and then there is "ancient". To me this feels....."ancient".

I can't tell you how delighted I was when Chelta surprised me with a valentines gift of a wonderful 18" x 24"enlarged photo with crystal clear colors. She had taken that slide from my Dad which was cracked and old, then had it digitally recreated and retouched. It hangs in my home as a constant reminder of some of the cool places we were able to experience.

McKenna's Museum of Whimsical Art...

2008-11-19T22:41:00.010-07:00

This is just a small tribute to McKenna.....I love your work....Keep it up!!

Spring

Polka Dots

Mountains

Fireworks

Dots

Dots on Squares

3 Ducks

A Window to Her Soul

2008-11-14T22:47:00.005-07:00

I was looking through some of my kids files tonight....mostly just curious what they were up to....browsing around and I opened up my daughter's (McKenna 12yrs) folder where she keeps her artwork.... I was so surprised at what I found. Years ago when she was little I showed her how to use MS Paint to draw basic shapes and lines etc... I really hadn't paid much attention since. She isn't the showy type anyway, so that made my late night discovery all the sweeter.... The one posted here is called "Bunny". Funny...huh? Most of her artwork is labeled very matter of factly -- exactly what it is...nothing more. In this case I am not sure why the ears are 'hovering' disconnected above Bunny's head or why her front paws are so tiny. It almost seems as if Bunny just got spooked, but the poker face doesn't quite sell that all the way. Although Bunny's eyes are also disproportionate to the size of his/her head, they still manage to pierce through with the shade of blue she chose.....The wonderful placement of the whiskers and mouth.....a subtle wry skewness really comes through. I appreciate the contrast of the roundness of the circle shapes of the Bunny with the very angular, hard straight lines of the green background. I just love the Picasso-esque modern abstract portrayal of such an unassuming creature.

I thought I would share this because anyone who knows McKenna knows she would NEVER prance her art around, not even to family. She is fiercly private and has a 24x7 guard posted at her well of emotion, only giving glimpses here and there on her terms.

You know how you come across a new song that takes your breath away and you can't stop listening to it? Or discover a new unsuspecting favorite movie that sings to your soul and marks you in a special unforgettable way? Well....for me this is very much like that. It helps to know the artist doesn't it? I do know that I felt a deeper level of appreciation for Michaelangelo's work after I read "The Agony and Ecstasy" because I knew him better and began to "see" him more through his art aside from the art itself. Therefore, I don't expect anyone to "feel" anything from this piece other than a whimsical bunny figure....which is just fine. For me this is one of those special "finds".....Often, when asked, she is unable to completely articulate the feelings and emotions she experiences. Art is a way for her to do that......

If this were only really about a Bunny...but it isn't. It is more about stumbling across a small clue about who she is and what she feels. I thank God in Heaven for the ability to create, so that this Dad can glimpse through the window of art, and peek into her soul......... McKenna, you will probably never understand the power of this "moment" for me. Thank you so much..........I cannot recall ever feeling so intimate about art until now.....or closer to you.

Kewl New Vibes.......

2008-11-14T21:52:00.002-07:00

....Just came across a great new band: Thriving Ivory. Someone really nice clued me on them....Great new sound, the lead singer has a very unique vocal quality. Check out their new video "Angels on the Moon" I put a few new songs on the playlist....

Shoes Rock!

2008-10-25T08:22:00.004-06:00

What is it about shoes that make me feel I can never have enough ?? I am not going to say how many pair I have...but all I know is that there is always at least one pair lurking out there......just out of reach, consuming me, making me wonder how I can pull the potential purchase off and still feel justified!! .........I wonder what Mr. Cole Haan will do with his extra time in the next life.....

Amizade......

2008-10-16T23:02:00.005-06:00

I read today something that made me think:

"Friends are the brothers/sisters that God let us choose".

It made me think about friendship from a different angle. I do feel we are all brothers and sisters in God's family, but friends aren't family necessarily. Sometimes family can be friends, sometimes not.

I feel that I am not only a product of my family, but of my friends as well. I realilze that isn't an earth shattering news flash by any means....but because I lived a life of a diplomat-brat in many different countries, I was particularly influenced by different cultures, surroundings and people beyond just my family.

There is something quite unique about arriving in a 3rd world country, ripe with new and interesting smells, sounds, people and to top it off -- not being able to communicate. The nice tight lines of your "known" comfort zone become very fuzzy and you can't quite make them out no matter how much you "squint"! It is like holding on to slippery soap......You feel out of place, out of sorts, and maybe even out of "sight" at times. A good friend told me recently their experience of moving all over made them feel "invisible". It was a terrible feeling that lingered far too long.

I was lucky, no matter where we moved we had a built in "Transition Kit" it was called Family. Funny how fast you start to look at your younger punk brother who you normally wouldn't want to spend more than the required "30 minutes for dinner" with through different eyes. All of a sudden he is the only thing that seems to make sense in this new place. How ironic that it becomes so easy to find interesting things to do together in this new context. Moving bonded me to my siblings and parents. What fantastic memories I have and we often draw upon them during get togethers and reunions.... Moving wasn't the only reason, but definitely a factor in facilitating my family to become "friends".

It is difficult for me to even talk about how much my friends have meant to me over my life. I know that no matter how many words I may write, it will sell them short with respect to their total influence on me. My parents led by example....they seemed to always see the best in all people and cultures. I couldn't begin to list the number of wonderful people that I have come to know over my life. So many hundreds of faces and names that significantly impacted my thoughts, my heart and my life.........and continue to.

Friendship for me is as real as drinking deeply from a cold water fountain when in dire thirst. It is almost palpable and tactile for me. Spending quality time with friends is what I would do with most of my time if time was what I had. Even with family, work and church responsibilities I find I can still carve out time for friends. It is never enough, but sometimes just a few moments can really "hit the spot".

My Dad once told me in a note that it "hurt good" to be my Dad. It was a compliment to me. The metaphor stuck forever. It made immediate sense to me both mentally and emotionally. It is a "heart" feeling. It is the feeling I aspire to when it comes to my friends. Not in every exchange, but to have occasional moments where we both may find a lump forming in our collective throats. An all knowing, unspoken spiritual connection of meaning that binds, edifies and enables our spirits to soar because we have simply been willing to be open and share, despite the risks.

I love my friends, old and new. They add spice, variety and depth to my life. I love them for their unconditional acceptance of me and all that I bring to the table....(baggage included).

They are in my thoughts often and I catch myself asking Heaven to consider them in all of its doings. I am forever grateful and indebted to them for helping my life's journey be ever sweeter.

Thank you for making my heart "hurt good"........

Advice for Life.....for Free

2008-10-10T21:13:00.011-06:00

I will never forget the first time I heard a most unusual and unique Pop hit called:

EVERBODY'S FREE (TO WEAR SUNSCREEN) 12/06/1999

I was in my car when I first heard it and found it so catchy. I had no idea who the artist was and like every other time I have heard a great song on the radio, the DJ's didn't announce the name at the end! (Ever happen to you?--drives me nuts!!) I remember how distinctively some of the words and concepts in the song immediately felt "right on" to me. I found myself trying really hard to listen intently while trying not to get in a wreck at the same time. It was hard...

When I finally found out it was Baz Luhrman I was thrown for a loop. I only knew him from his first movie "Strictly Ballroom" which is one of my favorites. (*Highly recommended)

So, hearing a tune by him was odd and out of place, but yet at the same time, it wasn't as he is such a versatile and creative individual. In fact, I am not sure if he ever released any other record since, although he is extremely musical and weaves it into all of his work. (Moulin Rouge was incredibly interesting and his noveau modern interpretation of Romeo+Juliet was another eccentric brilliant piece *Not for all).

I am not sure what hit me today that reminded me of this most interesting little record, but as I pulled it out of the "cold storage" for the first time in many many years I was hit by how much of it still resounded in my bones.

There are nuggets of truth here, at least for me and I see lots of application in my life. In fact, I found myself mentally highlighting particular words and/or phrases that have meaning for me. In ended up doing so in RED. Ironically, I must admit that I have actually taken and pondered much of his advice, which he openly acknowledges as "worthless", which is probably why I listened a bit more carefully from the onset.

I encourage you to click on the link above and see the video for yourself. I have posted the words below. I may elaborate on some highlighted sections over time. Some now and some later..... Still need to think about that.

I hope you enjoy as much as I have and if you don't, maybe it will still make you think and do a self check on your own life.....are you close or far? Noone says you have to be one or the other, but for me, I want to be "close", so I keep checking in on myself to see if I am still dancing.......no matter where I am.

Ladies and Gentlemen of the class of ’97Wear Sunscreen

"If I could offer you only one tip for the future, sunscreen would be it. The long term benefits of sunscreen have been proved by scientists, whereas the rest of my advice has no basis more reliable than my own meandering experience I will dispense this advice now.
Enjoy the power and beauty of your youth, oh never mind, you will not understand the power and beauty of your youth until they've faded. But trust me, in 20 years you’ll look back at photos of yourself and recall in a way you can’t grasp now, how much possibility lay before you and how fabulous you really looked, you are not as fat as you imagine.

Don’t worry about the future, or worry, but know that worrying is as effective as trying to solve an algebra equation by chewing bubblegum. The real troubles in your life are apt to be things that never crossed your worried mind, the kind that blindside you at 4pm on some idle Tuesday.
Do one thing everyday that scares you

Sing

Don’t be reckless with other people’s hearts, don’t put up with people who are reckless with yours.

Floss

Don’t waste your time on jealousy, sometimes you’re ahead, sometimes you’re behind, the race is long, and in the end, it’s only with yourself.
Remember the compliments you receive, forget the insults, if you succeed in doing this, tell me how.
Keep your old love letters, throw away your old bank statements.

Stretch

Don’t feel guilty if you don’t know what you want to do with your life, the most interesting people I know didn’t know at 22 what they wanted to do with their lives, some of the most interesting 40 year olds I know still don’t.

Get plenty of calcium.
Be kind to your knees, you’ll miss them when they’re gone.
Maybe you’ll marry, maybe you won’t, maybe you’ll have children, maybe you won’t, Maybe you’ll divorce at 40, Maybe you’ll dance the funky chicken on your 75th wedding anniversary What ever you do, don’t congratulate yourself too much or berate yourself either Your choices are half chance, so are everybody else’s.

Enjoy your body, use it every way you can, don’t be afraid of it, or what other people think of it, it’s the greatest instrument you’ll ever own.

Dance, even if you have nowhere to do it but in your own living room.

Read the directions, even if you don’t follow them.
Do not read beauty magazines, they will only make you feel ugly.

Brother and sister together we'll make it through. Someday a spirit will take you and guide you there. I know you've been hurtin', but I've been waitin' to be there for you. And I'll be there just helping you out whenever I can.
Get to know your parents, you never know when they’ll be gone for good.
Be nice to your siblings, they are the best link to your past and the people most likely to stick with you in the future.
Understand that friends come and go, but for the precious few you should hold on. Work hard to bridge the gaps in geography and lifestyle because the older you get, the more you need the people you knew when you were young.
Live in New York City once, but leave before it makes you hard, Live in Northern California once, but leave before it makes you soft.

Travel.

Accept certain inalienable truths, prices will rise, politicians will philander, you too will get old, and when you do you’ll fantasize that when you were young prices were reasonable, politicians were noble and children respected their elders.

Respect your elders.
Don’t expect anyone else to support you. Maybe you have a trust fund, Maybe you have a wealthy spouse; but you never know when either one might run out.
Don’t mess too much with your hair, or by the time you're 40, it will look 85.
Be careful whose advice you buy, but, be patient with those who supply it. Advice is a form of nostalgia, dispensing it is a way of fishing the past from the disposal, wiping it off, painting over the ugly parts and recycling it for more than it’s worth.

........But trust me on the sunscreen

Brother and sister together we'll make it through. Someday a spirit will take you and guide you there. I know you've been hurtin, but I've been waitin' to be there for you And I'll be there just helping you out whenever I can Everybody's free oh yeah, Everybody's free oh yeah

50 Words....Post lude

2008-10-06T22:06:00.003-06:00

By request of an interested family member, I am adding to my previous post. Since very few people see this blog, I am very prone to fulfilling any request, especially since in this case it sheds more light on both my Grandfather and Father.

I am including my Dad's original 50 word assignment he did for his Father: Earl Marion Brown, who grew up as a pioneer rancher from Southern Arizona/Northern Mexico. Those who knew him will appreciate this snapshot.

“He was tall in the saddle, but when he landed, he was short and, somehow, seemed more firmly planted than those around him. His gaze was steady and direct, and his natural good will was masked by what looked like a scowl to anyone who didn’t know him well.”

In addition, I am including two other sets of 50 word snapshots of my Dad. When I decided I was going to do this for my Dad's birthday I issued an invitation to others in my family to see if there were anyone else wanting to join me. Part of the allure for me was to see what others would write about my Dad so I could learn more about him, while at the same time, thinking that several 50 word descriptions would just make the gift for him even better! So, I thank my brother Roland and my Aunt Earlene Porter (Dad's youngest sister) for contributing to the cause and supplying 2 beautiful works of prose that I included in Dad's birthday gift. Enjoy:

He's affable and accepting;
Admirably astute, yet always unassuming.
While eloquently Erudite, his evenness sets all at ease.
Faithful and facade-free, he faces forward.
A wizard with words, he wields well-worn Wisdom
and Wry wit equally well.
In poetry and practice, the pure is pronounced,
The paltry, purged.
Earlene Porter – Mar ‘05

Disguised as a simple, globe-trotting Cowboy,
He is salt of God’s final sprinkling.
Cloaked in unassuming human-ness,
He maintains sweet savor
While thousands of improved lives,
Trail quietly behind.
E.Roland Brown – Nov ‘05

50 Words

2008-09-26T19:55:00.008-06:00

When I was a Freshman in college, I had a writing assignment for an English class which was to describe something in great detail but with only very few words. I must have told my Father about it because about a week later I received a letter from him that included a piece of paper that had one paragraph written on it. It was an assignment he had completed in college many years before that he had saved. I was so surprised he had saved it! I read the paragraph and didn't quite understand it. I called him up and asked him about it. He said when he was a Freshman his assignment was to describe his Dad in 50 words.

Now, with greater context, I re-read his 50 word paragraph describing Grandpa. Wow....! It was perfect. I re-read it over and over....(yes! I did count the words just to make sure too--50). Those few words not only described him well, but captured his "essence", which really surprised me. It was really really good. I was so impressed with how well Dad had managed to choose each word and then string them together so succinctly to capture so much of someone in just 50 short words.... I know I completed my assignment, but can't even remember what I ended up doint it on......obviously it did not have the same impact on me or the professor!

Fast Forward 23 years.......I am rummaging through old stuff, waxing nostalgic ,and I come across Dad's letter and the 50 word assignment he sent me so long ago. I smiled to myself and replayed the short exchange we had so many years before. So, I re-read it again. The power of it had not dwindled with time--There was Grandpa, alive and well forever captured in "ink". I had not seen my Dad for about 3 years (longest for me at that point) and I was really missing him. I started noodling about what he had done for his Dad. What a wondrous gift, that 50 word "statue" that was so complimentary to who he was. I wondered further.....what 50 words would someone choose for me? That quickly turned into an excited notion that formed in my head...."hey, what if I do one for Dad?" Hmm..... I wonder, could I pull it off? I knew inside that I could never get it quite as right as he did, but a desire grew inside me to try. So, I set off right then and there....I opened up Word and started brainstorming and freeforming, electronically listing words, adjectives, superlatives etc...... I realized after 1 hour that I had 2 pages full of awesome stuff. Now the hard part....whittling down. Easier said then done! I started the laborious process of trying to condense a lifetime of experiences and characteristics into a couple of paragraphs. It became increasingly difficult and I found myself getting quite upset and frustrated....I started spewing forth not-so-nice expressions under my breath and finally after 2 hours hit "save", pushed my chair out and stomped off to release my pent up emotions with a nice Dr. Pepper. "Dang!@#&!! ; How come it was so flippin' hard??" For the next few nights I continued to tackle the problem at hand.....nothing seemed to flow, there was too much and I just could not emotionally handle the "cutting" that was required. I decided to let it rest after a week.

Fast forward 10 months...... No, I hadn't forgotten. I had continued to think and ponder about it for months but just couldn't wrap my head around it. It had to be a "feeling" and it was like grabbing a bar of soap in the bathtub--very elusive. What started as this optimistic poetic piece that I thought I could knock out in a couple of days had turned into a long, drawn out, focused mission that had pushed me and stretched me in very important ways. I began to pick up where I left off.

Somehow, someway, how, I am still not sure, words started to come together and more importantly their combined meaning created little parts of the "essence" of Dad (if that makes sense?) --at least it seemed that way to me. I started to get a little bit excited and I persisted. It took the next two months to finally get it down into about 70 words. I knew I was close but it just wasn't "perfeito" (perfect). Finally, after simply going over it over and over again I found myself counting ....50! I had done it! I felt so powerful....and then in the same heartbeat I second guessed myself and wondered "Is it even close?" "Is it good?" "Does it capture his soul the way he did his Dad?" .......Probably not, but it was good enough for a non-writer type.

I waited almost another year for his birthday to give it to him. I had it done in nice calligraphy and framed it for him. It was my most important gift to him and I considered it a way for me to honor him.

So.......I have thought long and hard about about posting my 50 word assignment on this blog.....I am well aware of the fact that to any reader this will not seem much, because of how personal it is to me. I do not expect anyone to respond as I have, but I share it regardless because I want to extend an invitation......... yes to you! I strongly suggest everyone go through this process. You will learn more about yourself and this person than you ever imagined. You will recall special moments that you may have forgotten, you will see just how amazing the person really is. Feelings and emotions will come as you think about how to capture them with words. It is a wonderful thing.

Should you accept this homework assignment, may it wring your insides out and frustrate you only because at the end of the day, your love and appreciation will be bigger, deeper and more meaningful.....at least that was my experience. I pray it be yours.....

When the time came to place my 50 word gift in his hands....I was wearing my heart on my sleeve and was "brimming" with emotion....he would never know how long it took or how hard it was for me...he didn't need to. I knew how much he loved his Dad, and I wanted to let him know how much I loved mine.....

Normally greets with a pun. Although avoids advice,
His wisdom pierces and lingers.
Soulful and Eloquent,
Would rather be driving a long haul rig.
Darts of self doubt only set the grit more firmly in his teeth
Never sweats the small stuff.
Passionately paints with poetry. Melodic;
.…aches for Daddy
Aaron L. Brown -- Jan’05

Know Thyself.....

2008-09-24T16:53:00.018-06:00

I walked in the door last night coming home from work and as I passed through the entryway I turned my head, saw a few of the kids watching TV and greeted them with a passing: " Hey Dudes.... how goes it?"

As I continued my forward motion and started to head up the stairs I heard a retort behind me that said emphatically: "Hey!... I am NOT a Dude, Dad!!"

I turned around and......yes, there was Alexa with her arms crossed across her chest, hips bent one way, with one of her "Bring it on Dude" attitudes written all over her face. (.......Do they always come with red hair!!?)

I could tell she was waiting for the "right" answer from me. I squirmed uncomfortably realizing she was making me nervous! (Like getting caught stealing cookies from the cookie jar). I realized it was FEAR! ......How could a tiny little girl cause make me sweat??!!

She just sat there and waited while I fumbled to come up with the right words. I began to explain to her that she was my little "Dudette"(....he he, nice recovery I thought.....) WRONG! That did not fly at all - in fact, her only response was to shift her weight from one foot to the other, now showing signs of growing impatience..... "Quickly Aaron" I thought..."you are striking out here". The only thing I could come up with was a feeble "It just means I love you honey!" .... If there had been a referee right there I would have been presented with a "Red Card" and ejected from the game for such a weak performance! Needless to say, she realized how pathetic I was, rolled her eyes and walked away.....

but not before she reminded me that she was a "GIRL!!!!! and that her name was ALEXA CHELTA BROWN".....

Now, all kidding aside. I sat down on the steps right there and let my mind take in the power of her few words.... What came clearly to my mind was: "Know Thyself"

I sat there and marveled at the fact that Alexa, who is 8 yrs old, not only knew who she was, but did so with great "enthusiasm" and conviction!

No, she most definitely is not a "dude" in the strictest sense of the definition. I may think of her as my "little Dude" but in the larger scope of reality -- No, she is not!

What caught me was how quickly she responded and the mighty attitude she said it with. She knew exactly what she was NOT--which really is a reflection of knowing who she really IS right?

I reflected upon the world that she has to grow up in....a world that is more confusing with every passing day. A world that I feel has often confused the "who am I? " question. It is less clear for young people today to "know who they are" because there are so many influences pulling them this way or that. The only way to make sense of anything the world "defines" is to: "Know Thyself"

As I sat there and let the full extent of her self-knowledge wash over me like a flood and I received a calm feeling and a lump in my throat. She didn't get that from me or Mom did she? No..... she came hardwired with that information, at least I hoped so, and also hoped that maybe Heaven had a hand here, helping her after all -- to know who she is, where she came from and what she is supposed to do.

Can she put her faith and belief in a simple still, small but powerful "feeling"? Is she prepared to face the world that might tell her she is any number of different things?.......... Yes! There is no question at all. She knows....... and anyone, including her silly Dad, that tries to tell her otherwise has another thing coming, that is for sure.

....After a few moments, I got up, continued where I had left off, and a knowing smile started to form on my face replacing the lump in my throat. I said a quiet prayer of thanks for that reinforcing feeling, not so much that I knew she knew, but more importantly that she knew she knew. I did an instant quick "check" internally, to see if I still knew as she seemed to know........Ahh, .it was a good moment for me, to remember too, who I was and to have that feel right.

"Be who you are and say what you feel, because those who mind don't matter and those who matter don't mind. -- Dr. Seuss

No, Lexi, I will never mind when you speak what you feel, I consider it a blessing to know you, associate with you and to constantly learn from you....May you never lose that sense of identity and courage -- My money is on you -- never the World!!

Famous Last Words....

2008-08-31T21:54:00.003-06:00

This past Saturday I attended the funeral of my uncle Bill. He was a couple of years younger than my Dad, but always seemed more of a big brother to him. Without going into details, he was an incredible man. His life full of service to church, family and community. Those who gave him tribute spoke of a man that quietly and persistently "endured to the end" and left a large wake of touched lives. I felt so inpsired listening to all that was said of him and found myself unconsciously reflecting upon my own life and then jumping forward in my minds eye to my own funeral...."what would be said of Aaron Brown?"

What would I really want to be said of me? Many things came to my mind in a flash, but they all fell short. I realized that many would probably say things like "he was fun", "always smiled", "easy to get a long with" etc..... As I listened to myself vette these out, I realized it wasn't enough. I wanted to hear stories where I did things for others that went "unnoticed" and anonymous, like I was hearing about Uncle Bill....I wanted to hear stories from my kids that said "I watched my Dad help others and led by quiet example" or "My Dad often gave more than he really had the means to give". I didn't want to hear about "things" but rather a lot about "people".

I was very grateful for a few quiet introspective moments that helped me sift all these thoughts and recalibrate my heart and priorities. I realized it was time to shift into a gear higher than every day mediocrity and stretch myself to do more, but quietly. To love for charity sake, not because of duty or because someone would notice. I left rejuvenated and realized I understood that funerals can provide a wonderful opportunity to evaluate oneself--to take stock, check and measure where one stands. Not compare....but rather, take the best of those who have passed on and strive to apply it to our own lives to be better. Thank you Uncle Bill for a consecrated life of enduring example. I won't get up at 4am and milk cows like you did, but I can certainly do better in my own modern realm.

Thanks Mom, for Dance...

2008-08-29T09:42:00.008-06:00

I recently attended a high school reunion in D.C. and couldn't wait for the pinnacle activity of the event: "The Dance". It was incredibly fun and most of us didn't want it to end. I love dancing and can't remember when I didn't. I am not sure why, but I find it interesting.... What is it about dancing that makes me feel what I feel? If I were an alien sneaking a peek at our world and saw a bunch of people moving and contorting to loud noise I would probably re-think any invasion strategies. I have often wondered why certain songs can actually make my body move impusively and unconsciously often resulting in a sense of excitement, exhiliration and sheer joy. It is a wondrous thing I think, which I owe to my mother.

She was a professional dancer. She taught her 6 kids all styles and techniques: ballet, tap, charleston, swing, fox trot, square dancing and yes, even synchronized swimming.... She instilled in us a love for all styles and often she would look for any excuse to get up and dance, even if in a restaurant. I loved her uninhibited way of expressing herself through dance and I would like to think I have been "imprinted" by her. It was the creative process she loved and then to see her joy in watching her students perform was something to behold.

Some music is great as background to conversation, or just to "chill" to, but some music is designed to specifically be expressed on the dance floor preferrably with one's best friends. That is what I experienced last week. "Freak Out" says Le Chic...well, they definitely got that right!!

Dancing with my good friends from EAB High School (Brazil) is more than casual dancing...it is an extension of our friendship and ultimately a group celebration of life itself. Thank heaven for music and dance....it makes the dance of life so much more sweet! ......and thank you Mom for the music you made in my life...I miss you.

Life's Monkey Bars

2008-08-01T16:31:00.008-06:00

I went on a spur of the moment bike ride with my two youngest today; Braden (10) and Alexa (8) and we decided to bike over at their former elementary school. We had a fun time playing follow the leader and chasing each other all around the playground and parking lot. Then when it was time to go, Alexa said "Just a minute Dad, I have to go do something". I wondered what that might be. She sped off to get on with it with some urgency.

I came around the corner and saw her scaling across the monkey bars hand over hand. She made it across and said at the end with great gusto "I did it!!" Having seen her scale many monkey bars before I wondered what was different about these. I asked her. She said that she had never been able to do it here before she transferred schools. I understood. She had tried and tried and tried to cross while there, but never could. In that moment my heart did a little jump for joy, for her.

This had been on her mind for almost 2 years and she was intent on not leaving any unfinished business. She was going to get her goal and she did. I was so impressed with her sense of wanting to accomplish that, the urgency she felt and desire to fill a gap and not delay further.

It was such a brief and small moment, but it left a lasting impression on me.

What gaps have I not closed? Do I have what it takes to create the urgency sufficient to "finish" the things that are still undone in my life, now... and not later? As I have reflected on this my mind turned to the scriptures. There are so many great examples and stories of others who also experienced their own reflective moments on this topic. The apostle Paul wrote in 2 Timothy 4:7:

"I have fought a good fight, I have finished my course, I have kept the faith"

Then, the best example of all, Jesus found himself near the end of his course, he was in the Garden of Gethsemane and offered the most sublime intecessory prayer as he atoned for the sins of the world. In John 17:4 he said:

I have glorified thee on the earth: I have finished the work which thou gavest me to do.

Then, the final closing remark of his life was in John 19:30. He was the ultimate "finisher".....

"When Jesus therefore had received the vinegar, he said, It is finished: and he bowed his head, and gave up the ghost."

We all have our own fight, our own course and our own faith to find and finish. I have often found myself wanting to skip to the end, look for shortcuts, or wander off on seemingly interesting side roads that can be distracting to my real purpose and path.....

At the end of the day, there is no question what I need to do. I have been given a clear line of sight. I know this inside of myself. I feel as if Heaven has confirmed it. I have to follow Alexa's example, even if I missed somethings here and there along the way, I am reminded by all the examples above that I can still "finish" no matter how many times I fall when trying to cross the monkey bars of my particular life.......

Until then, Thanks Lexi, for a beautiful small moment and your example of finishing what you started.

Jumping in with Both Feet!

2008-07-22T10:19:00.005-06:00

Whenever we moved to a new country, my parents would readily send us, (kids) out with money to buy milk or bread etc.. Early on, I remember not being very happy about this and thought it was very unfair since we didn't know the language or even where the stores were. Once the complaining cycle fizzled out, we would then venture out into the new "hostile" world with some weird looking money in our tight fisted hands knowing we couldn't come home empty handed. I remember the fear of not even knowing which direction to walk or how to even ask anyone anything. Once a store was found we would begin the process of emphatic pointing, mumbling English under our breath and other frantic non-verbal motions to help the patient store owners to understand what we needed. They would quickly figure out what we needed, smile, and then help us with the pronunciation of the correct words and we would repeat them back to our new teachers so they could laugh and whisper funny things to each other. We would leave feeling kind of stupid but happy with our transaction. This continued until it became more of a game and I for one actually ended liking it as we got older and more confident.

My parents were so wise to "embed" us quickly into the culture, people and language. They refused the development of any pattern of "non-engagement". It was through their example I learned what it meant to be the "stranger", to be so appreciative of someone else's patience, for willingness of others to help me when they didn't need to, that people are good no matter where they live or what they believe. What began as a simple lesson in new vocabulary would often result in a very fun relationship with new found friends that couldn't wait until we came to buy something each time to hear us repeat those few words they taught us and for the exchange of smiles. Those simple relationships opened many doors to greater mutual understanding, respect and love in my life.

My parents always saw the best in new cultures. Of course they saw the dirt, the grime, the reeking smells of poverty and the beggars in the streets, but never did this cause them to isolate us from all of that. I am so grateful for those lessons. My life is so rich because of those wonderful "engagements" with many cultures and people. I thank my parents every day for their example and for teaching me to jump into new things with both feet!

I hope I can apply this wisdom my own life and remember to continue this tradition with my own kids -- yes, even in Salt Lake City, UT which to me is one of the most "foreign" communities I know...

In Denial....

2008-07-18T18:02:00.002-06:00

I found out today that I am actually the very last of the Baby Boomers! I really never knew, or maybe didn't want to know that 1964 was the last year of this group. I never considered myself as one and still even now resist the categorization. Not that they aren't well meaning, beautiful citizens of the world, but rather that I always secretly liked the idea that I was somewhat "in between".....Not really a BBmer and not really Gen X -- A "non-classified" entity! This meant I was special, unique in some way. Ahh, but all ideals must meet their respective realities no? Does it change anything? No, not really. Only that I am grouped with a large body of stats that I really do not relate to at all. I am not sure which group I identify with, but have always felt that I was more of a "world citizen" or a "global villager" if you will instead.

But I am ok with this new knowledge. I will consider myself a "Bridge" that spans between the two. I will take the best of both and walk away with more. So, althought I have enjoyed being in denial, I will simply relish the fact that I can be part of a group and still maintain my individuality and uniqueness.

The classification doesn't define me or who I am, it just tells me when I am supposed to retire......