Doce Amargo....

I am not sure why.......but for some reason ever since I was like 10 years old I found that I had an attraction to twist endings to stories.  Sometimes they were tragic, often full of irony sometimes just bittersweet.  In Portuguese the term is "Doce Amargo". 

irony: "incongruity between what might be expected and what actually occurs"

I remember first being aware of this when I per chance came across  a book in our family library called "O'Henry's Short Stories". I was in 5th or 6th grade in Jakarta Indonesia.... Let's just say there wasn't a lot of "Must See TV" programming there....leaving loads of time for incredible reading journeys.  O' Henry certainly took me on a number of fantastical ones.... I remember his were the first stories ever that caused so much post-reading reflection.  I couldn't help try and wrap my head around the most interesting ironic twists he weaved into his tapestry of storytelling.  I was 'woven' in with the best of them.... I was an instant fan.

The first short story I read was "The Ransom of Red Chief. It made me laugh. It was good enough to keep me reading more until I eventually read all the stories in the whole book. The stories that stood out were "The Gift of the Magi, "The Last Leaf" and the "The Cop and the Anthem".

These simple but amazing well written stories introduced me to everyday social scenes where very normal people experienced tragedy, humor and happiness sometimes all at once but in profound ways that made my heart feel things I had never felt before as a kid.  O' Henry had a way of "compelling"' me to empathize with the characters way before I ever knew what "empathy" meant --I remember often I would stop in the middle of reading, put the book on my chest and then dreamily play out in my minds eye, how each character would react to, feel and deal with the ironic idiosyncrasies they experienced. It was odd in a way, but I found great interest in evaluating my own response to it. It was an important development stage for me to realize that real "human stories" didn't always have to end with "happily ever after", rather that happiness could co-exist with bits of tragedy, loss or .... with bittersweet irony......Even though I didn't have much of life's experience, I knew somehow that these endings were more "real" than most of the others I had read. They dented me like an old dinged car that could tell a lifetime of stories of roads traveled.    I loved what they did to me.....

"The Gift of the Magi" marked me in particular. The story was written so well and the surprise twist ending left me almost physically breathless--(I know, weird for a 10 year old) but it happened nonetheless. It was my introduction to "IRONY". I didn't know what the word meant, but I became quite familiar with it's application after O' Henry had his way with me.... How he emotionally drew me in to the depth of his characters love and how so ironically it played out in the end was wonderful, but dug at me at the same time. ....It wasn't fair!! They deserved better because their love and sacrifice was pure!! So, I remember keenly experiencing opposing feelings of sadness while at the same time marveling at the irony and how the tragedy of their actions actually reinforced their love for one another! The two main characters may not have ever truly known just how much they loved one another had they not both sold what the other needed. Amazing!.....and he never really had to use sarcasm to make his point.  I felt the immediate conflict of joy and exasperation at the exact same time... the idea that I could not reconcile both left  me restless but sated.  So weird, so unusual...yet so fulfilling at the same time.

Wish I could explain it better for you....

As my life....continued to meander through the years I kept this feeling close and nurtured it with greek tragedies, various foreign films and tragic European romances... I found I continually sought after and felt a closeness to these themes.  I went way beyond O'Henry as each new country I was exposed to offered its' own particular brand of "doce amargo" storytelling.  Every culture has it I learned.  These are universal themes.

So what?  What is the learning here?  
                                                       Good question....  

Here was one example of how things played out that helped me appreciate something that I normally would not have:

Back when I was single and dating. I had set my eye on a girl.  I  "carefully" crafted a series of plans that would introduce me to her without being too awkward.  The 'door approach' worked.  This opened up the door for several short but frequent conversations that ultimately led to me asking her out. We had 1 short sweet non-eventful date.

Weeks later I called her and asked her out again..... I was not prepared for her response, but it had profound affect on me. She said:

"Aaron, I need to tell you that I am not interested in dating you......"

Commercial Break:  You know how in movies there are those sequences that take the form of a super slo-motion-psychodelic-drug induced kaleidoscopish dreamy thing where everything is spinning helplessly out of control..?? Like someone totally tripping out?

Ok, well that started happening to me...., it was surreal....I fumbled for a something to say, but I was caught so off guard that I was speechless.  The way that she delivered that message to me was so honest, so authentic, no games, no umming or ahhing, so perfectly delivered that it simply robbed me of any quick comeback, retort, or even any response at all...... There is a wonderful metaphor that applies here: "Nailing the coffin shut". Basically, all I could actually say, was:

 "Ok....I understand, thanks for being honest with me." and it was over.....she was nice, polite, respectful and pulled the weed out by the root, no chance for any recourse, or any possible growth later... Simple, but effective.........and oh so lethal!

My first emotional response after the initial shock was "Wow am I stupid."   My first rejection. I immediately had more empathy for all other "rejectees". Wow, it really hurt! As I let myself go through the normal "I am such an idiot" process I was somehow able at the same time to realize just what an amazing thing she was able to do.

How many times do we let ourselves fall into that nasty slippery false slope of :

"I don't want to date, I just want to be friends" 

which almost always ends up meaning absolutely nothing but rather fueling a prolonged wishing, hoping and dreaming of a hopeful happy ending by one of the parties....

To the girl it means "It is done, it is over, leave me beast with the least amount of communication possible"

To the guy it means "So, you are saying there is a chance?!!!" (Jim Carey in "Dumb and Dumber). But in my case, the only way I could take it was the same way she meant it, it was "over". The more I marveled at how she did it I found a new respect for her. In fact, I actually appreciated the fact that we both didn't have to spend unnecessary time and effort working towards something that wasn't going to work. It was a bittersweet illumination for me.... liked it although it didn't taste all that great.  Ironic...

As I examine my life, there are things that I coulda, shoulda, wish I wouda for sure....But I like to think of them more as 'doce amargo' moments--trade offs. Sometimes giving something good up......for something better. Sometimes the "better" doce part doesn't show up for awhile, but it always does seem to arrive, even if on its own timetable.  Other times the more bitter 'amargo' part would actually be welcomed.

The times I have experienced bittersweet feelings the most have been with friends. Growing up overseas, always making new friends, then always knowing there would be the inevitable....."leaving" as well.  I grew up with terrible "longings" or "saudades" for friends that I had made and left, knowing that for most, I would never see them again--ever. It caused me great pain as a youth, but in time I learned to appreciate both the newness of the new land and the departure of a place already experienced.  I wouldn't trade all the bittersweet feelings I have had a lifetime of for all the incredible friends that I have had to say goodbye to.....

“Love is a hidden fire, A pleasant sore, A delicious poison, A delectable pain, An agreeable torment, A sweet and throbbing wound, A gentle death.” - Fernando de Pujas

Regret Bites

I have been resisting sharing this post for a while.  I did one of those dumb Dad mistakes which I really regret.

Lexi over here on the left has grown up to be quite the incredible little red haired lady.  She is 14 going on 30.  She knows exactly who she is ("Know Thyself" ), what she wants, who she is going to marry, how much money she is going to have, the kind of car, what her job/career will be and what her husband will be doing in his career... get the drift?  She is sassy pants and very funny and has acquired a healthy sense of self-assuredness.  The kind I certainly didn't have growing up and even envy now.

She has grown up playing soccer in the shadows of her 3 older siblings who all have played competitively and at a pretty high level.  While she hasn't been the 'soccer animal' that some are, she has been that steady, consistent and never misses-a-practice-or-game kind of player.  

Her two older brothers and older sister have all made the High School soccer team as Freshman which is a considerable accomplishment.  All of them most likely will end playing 4 years.  Lexi is a Freshman this fall......So, the topic of High School Soccer girls tryouts came up earlier this Spring.  Mom was getting Lexi all prepped for the idea of it all.  She began coaching her on what she needed to do etc.... meanwhile,  Dad was wrinkling his forehead, being quiet, and not really being on the same page about her prospects and began second guessing Mom's abundant enthusiasm......

As I saw the time for tryouts get closer, I decided the time had come to 'prune' the conversation and expectations down a notch.  I began to slip in little quips like "Listen Lexi, you know just trying out for the team is like winning!"  or  "You are very small, and this is a different level of competition, so just remember that..."  and "How would you feel if you didn't make it this first time round?"  etc.., etc... etc.....

The bottom line was I really didn't think she would make it.  I mean after all, I did live in Brazil, the land of Pele which basically makes me an automatic subject matter expert on the sport.  And it was now my rightful duty as Dad to manage her expectations for her....Oh how the self-justification felt so good.....then.

First there was a month of intense training.  She made it through all the training sessions.  I was  surprised!  This was then followed up with 2 days of actual tryouts.  The first day came.... I got home and asked McKenna how Lexi did: "Fantastic!" she said.... I was like "What??, How??"  "What do you mean?"  She went on:  "She was awesome... she played so well the coaches were commenting on her performance." It wasn't computing for me..... "Be more specific"  "ok... well she did this cool maneuver and dribbled past a defender and went down the line and then crossed the ball to center..."  Me:  "She has never done that before right?"  McKenna: "Right, but she did it today and she killed it!"    Oh no!..... I was in big trouble.  You know that that very bad feeling when you do something wrong in the pit of your stomach ?... yeah, that icky sick lump of horribleness that starts to gnaw at your  soul ?  Well it began for me.....

Lexi walked in the door.... I braced myself for a long series of sarcastic in-my-face comebacks and smack talking.   I waited, she was normal and didn't say anything.... So I finally asked her how she did:  "Good."  She wouldn't even look at me as she confidently brushed by me.... "McKenna told me how great you did, that is so awesome!  Good job!"   her:  "Yup" as it to say: "Tell me something I don't already know...."    One day passed, then another.... she never did her normal "in your face" or "See Dad, you were WRONG!" kind of stuff which she usually relishes in doing....Now she wasn't and it sucked big time... I felt very out-of-the-house.  (*I don't know what that means but that is what I felt).   I finally had to face the music and tell her how wrong I was.  I felt horrible and hoped that she would forgive me. I felt so much shame.

What kind of Dad doesn't cheer her kid on!  Wow....big disappointing moment for me.  It doesn't even sound like me.... but it was me.  It was a jagged pill that I hated swallowing but as I did I was reminded of something my Dad shared with me so so many years ago.  I was thankful for it.  It gave me the perspective I had lost.  You have probably seen this......it affected me deeply then as a 15 year old and I needed it to again now 35 years later.

The Cast
I lost the starring part in Our Town

To Linda, a girl not half as good as me,

Who kept her eyes down

For the whole tryout, and even stuttered.

When the cast was posted

And the high school drama coach

Saw me reading it through my tears,

He put an arm around me and said,

“Now, look—things are not always as they appear.

This is not Broadway;

It’s an educational institution.

We’re here for two reasons—to put on a show,

And, more important, to help people grow.

Someday you’ll see.”

So Linda played Emily,

And she didn’t even stutter.

And I was Third Woman at the Wedding,

Watching and wondering how he knew

What she could really do

If she had the chance.

Since then I have guessed that God,

Being a whole lot smarter

Than my high school drama coach, might be offstage sometimes

With an arm around a questioning cast:

“Now, don’t try to outguess me.

Sometimes the first shall be last

And the last shall be first,

And I’ve got my own reasons.

I need some strong ones to star

And some strong ones to stand back.

And I’m going to put out front

Some you might not choose,

But you’ll see what they can really do

When they have the chance.

Mortality is an educational institution.

We’ve got to put on the show,

And, too, we’ve got to help people grow.”

As I walk through the scenes,

Watch the costumes move,

And listen to the lines

Of the powerful, the weak,

The rich, the poor,

I look at the leads with less awe than most,

And at the spear-carriers with more.

So, I have been watching Lexi's games.  She is awesome.  She has totally stepped up and grown so much in just a few short weeks.  Literally right before my eyes.  Her teammates love her and cheer her on like you cannot believe.    

Hah! I say to you Aaron Brown...  maybe you should leave things in God's hands a little bit more and stop thinking your brain is so dang smart.  

At the end of the day, I am just so grateful for a forgiving daughter who quietly taught me such a valuable lesson and for not hanging on to any bad feelings when she probably deserved to.

Lexi, you perservered, you overcame, you climbed the mountain and you yelled:  "I DID IT!!" you have won the day because of it...Keep on sailing and never doubt your heart!  I wont' ever again...

Today a friend.....

couldn't wait to tell me something incredible!  I felt the urgency before I even got the news..... I was driving around 12:30pm today and felt an anxiousness to talk with them... but I resisted as they were just out of reach...at 12:34pm I received a message from them....hah!  Love those coincidences.!....

It was wound super tight and ready to spring open because of the news inside! Funny I got that from an e-mail huh?  But it was true.... every second I didn't open it made it more crazy.....

I read it....Yes, it bounded open with great energy and full of newsy news...so fun.

Then....I got to the end....

and the words told a little story....
                                                       ........ a very small and simple story....

so small that for most it would have been passed over without a second glance... but for me it was an epic story full of many pages....sprinkled with chapters that spoke of  sorrow, pain and loss of hope, with yet others containing forgiveness, new beginnings and spiritual awakenings.  I read this one tiny paragraph and it was so beautiful tears simply just sprang into my eyes without any warning... I stood up and walked over to my office window and looked outside and felt this incredible column of peace and gratitude for God's goodness flood over me.... my heart was full, and it "hurt good"

I realized in an instant that I was so filled with joy because of how much sorrow there had been for so long for my friend.    I felt a sorrowful ache and happiness all at the same time... so difficult that I can't explain.  Gibran usually finds a way when I can't:

"The deeper that sorrow carves into your being, the more joy you can contain.
      Is not the cup that hold 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."

  Yes...exactly.  

It was one of those extraordinary experiences where you find yourself being overwhelmed with emotions hours later when least expecting anything.... It came at me in waves...on the way home driving, later while eating, then again when out in the yard trimming bushes..... it persisted and I with it....


Gratitude would be the right word, but is seems to fall short, but I just want to thank my friend... for never giving up, being tirelessly good, finding a place for hope where there was only darkness, for leaning continuously upon God and never losing sight of what seemed right inside, for being forgiving and at the end of the day...sharing with me and filling my vessel to overflowing.... Terimah Kasih

Alaska: Shrouded in Mystery and Majesty

To the lover of wilderness, Alaska is one of the most wonderful countries in the world.

John Muir

It wasn't by choice but chance rather that our family was able to visit Alaska via cruise this July.

It was a family affair.  Chelta's 92 year old father wanted all his kids to go.  Back in the day....like, way back in the day....he put himself through dental school by going up to Alaska from Seattle, each hand holding a trunk full of samples and sold door-to-door all summer long along the small fishing towns of southern Alaska.  He sold blankets, suits, clothing and coats for Utah Woolen Mills a fine clothier operation based out of SLC, UT.  He did this for 4 years.  He left his family without means to communicate with them throughout the time he was gone.  He would wire money periodically. He met some extraordinary people, but mostly had to deal with the extreme feeling of isolation while trudging around in the rain in a suit knocking on doors facing immense rejection.

Surprisingly, as long as I have known him, his most fond and most consistently retold stories are those of Alaska.  To me, it seemed that experience was so intense that it 'marked' him indelibly, like a tatoo on his soul. Unlike most tatoo's, this was not one that resulted from a  drunken stupor....rather he earned his over time....grinding out an existence with nothing, and overcoming all the obstacles and not needing the world to know.....only he did...which was enough.
So, for the pat 20 years or so I have used a full palette of colors to paint and re-paint the stories he told, the faces, the scenery, the rain, the faces and details on the canvas of my mind.

Now, here we were... actually GOING to Alaska, to brush up against some of those often talked bout places and to finally match those "mental paintings" with reality of seeing, breathing, and stepping on the soil of those same towns....at least a few of them.

It was a fantastic journey.  Much had changed.  As is with almost all good "secrets" , we hope they don't always get "found".  Well, these towns probably needed to be found or they might not even be there, but they couldn't escape the inevitable "commercialization". However, everything just "inches" from the "touristy" storefronts, jewelry stores and other traps was ALASKA... the real stuff.  Wow, and the real stuff was incredible.... other worldly.... I spent hours just watching the passing scenery from the top of the ship.  There was so much mystery and raw power emanating from the wilderness.  Every time I saw these blanketing clouds creeping over the mountains my mind conjured up fantastical images a la "Lord of the Rings".  The images triggered my imagination and I embarked on a thousand possibilities.......


Later, we had an excursion in Juneau to go canoe up to a glacier..... It was spectacular.  We couldn't get too close due to possible calving, which would have been not a good thing for us in a small canoe. The odd feeling of both immensity with beauty at the same time was extraordinary.  The blue color of the ice was so unusual.  






On the way back from the actual glacier we came across an amazing chunk of glacier floating in the water that was made of the absolute most beautiful "blue" that I have ever seen.  It looked like some kind of special effects fake prop for some movie, but it wasn't!  It was just this awesome chunk of glacier that was "glasslike" and so so so blue that you cannot even believe it.

I wanted to get close enough to touch it and it was just perfectly smooth ice. It was one of those things that I knew I probably wouldn't see again as there were many other glacier chunks but were the normal white/blue that you typically see.  This one was so different from all the rest.

Very very cool ice....







There were times when I thought it was too weird to be on this huge ship invading these fjords to see the wilderness.....the irony was that I wouldn't have seen near the expansiveness of Alaska without a ship that could do that, yet at the same time I wanted the ship to get the heck out of the place and just leave it be.... leave this mysterious place in its' own silence.










There were two seascapes that captivated me the most.  On both occasions I just happened "into" them.   One was the first night out, I couldn't sleep.... I got up and it must have been about 2am and I went out on deck 7 and sat on a reclining lounger and just spent time listening to the wind but mostly got lost in the "midnight blue" of what was in front of me.  I was immediately glad that I didn't have access to any music for a change.... it was just me and that incredibly eerie cool space.  I soaked and soaked......


A second time I woke early and went up on deck to see this scene awaken my senses.... it was hard at times to see where the sky actually ended and the water began.  It was a perfect stillness and so beautiful it filled me with emotion.

Cruises for cruising sake I don't think are for me.... but cruises as a means to an end of seeing, feeling and experiencing some of the most intense scenes Alaksa had to offer ? Oh yeah, I am all in.  Thanks Dad... You probably will never know how much more I got out of this generous gift you gave besides reliving your stories and seeing the paths you trod, but oh so much more.  

Thank you for filling my vessel

Hey Roland.....

.....I was looking for you today.  It started this morning in the car.  Not sure what prompted it, but you were there, maybe you were the one calling me hoping I would answer.  Sometimes I wonder just how two-way the process actually might be.....

I began talking to you in my mind....maybe not exactly talking out loud, but mind-talking,which ended up more like just showing you all my thoughts vs actually saying them.

I wondered how you were doing...  I wondered what your feelings might be as you watch Reece leave on his mission.  It must be amazing for you.  I am sure you have shared so much with Mom.  I can only imagine what you two must be sharing together and wishing we could be with you.....but you have to wait huh?  So often it seems that when we, humans, lose people here that we want them back.  I wonder if the sentiment is the same for you there.... do you wish we were there or not?  If things are what I imagine, then you must be crazy not to have us all there with you...

It has been several months since you left.  I have had many conversations with you.... I am going to pretend that you know them all and are right there in the moment with me.  I am so grateful for that.

I miss you... 

That is mostly what I wanted to tell you.  I thought of Cheryl the other day and I immediately called her.  We got through the normal catch-up chatter and then rode a "Roland" wave for about an hour.  We walked through everything again.  We laughed, cried and enjoyed all of you that we could through a phone.   Cheryl hadn't heard all the things that happened those final days. It was really good for me to walk through them again.  I let all the emotions surface and it was like a cool fountain of water as they sprung upwards and then came down all over me.  It was as if we both bathed in Roland rain.  The sadness didn't win the day, your light and energy did!  We ended the call, purged, washed and clean, grateful for you and your life.  You are missed.... you are loved.  Your life continues to be a gift to us.  That is what I wanted to tell you....

I miss you...

.... and to let you know that I accept your gift and all your love you had inside for all, for me.  Thank you for sharing.  I love that you are now always there no matter when I need you.... 

So grateful.... please accept all my love.

World Cup Recap: A Poem to Numb the Pain

"A pitch in South America, the Germans came to play.
But no one told the home team they should show up on that day.
A goal! A second! Once again! And then again two more!
Before the half it was a laugh. The second was a snore.They had excuses. "This guy's hurt. And that one has the flu.

"The Germans are all robots! There was nothing we could do!"
The home crowd wept, they gnashed their teeth, and then did fall a hush.
For Germany had made, mit schnell, the Brazilian nation blush.

America looked on, bemused, the total deconstruction,
Of Germany's immense assault, and Brazil's spare production.

It was surreal....completely not possible....and yet it happened right before my unprepared eyes.  

The unraveling of Brazil vs. Germany was something that I will never forget.  It was like watching a train wreck in slow motion

I have watched hundreds of soccer games in my life, but I have never seen a game like that.  I hope I never see one like like for any team or any country ever again.  I wouldn't have even wanted Brazil to win like that.  Yet, it happened.  It really did.  The loss of hope was staggering.... This is the kind of impact that will actually probably change the way elections go in the country.

The consolation game vs Netherlands did nothing to boost confidence, in reality it confirmed what was now suspect.  Brazil really sucked!   It will take some serious rebuilding for many years to overcome the psychological damage that was done to this people and nation.  I am an ex-pat and am still struggling and have pushed the "bad ju ju" into the furthest recesses of my mind's memory.  When someone brings it up I actually run and jump with both feet into the pool of Denial and swim as fast as I can.

Overall, it was an excellent World Cup, but it will be forever marred for me.  I had so much hope for Brazil.  Some say, "Dude, get over it.....it is just a game!"  Normally, ok.....I get it.  Not in this case....this is Soccer, this is Brazil and this is The World Cup.

So, here we are, no more tears, no more gnashing, no more energy to wonder why....what do we do when we face failure of absolutely epic proportions?  

It reminds me of a few lines from the famous "Casey at the Bat" from Ernest Thayer:

The sneer is gone from Casey's lip, his teeth are clinched in hate;
He pounds with cruel violence his bat upon the plate.
And now the pitcher holds the ball, and now he lets it go,
And now the air is shattered by the force of Casey's blow.
Oh, somewhere in this favored land the sun is shining bright;
The band is playing somewhere, and somewhere hearts are light,
And somewhere men are laughing, and somewhere children shout;
But there is no joy in Mudville — mighty Casey has struck out

 I believe God loves sports.  I think he loves athletes.  It seems as if He uses sports as a means to teach many life lessons.   In many ways I believe sports is a metaphor for life in general.  There are rules, practice, coaches, a team to support, motivation, skill, desire, heart mind and soul.  The will to win, there is loss and much adversity, even injury.  Sports builds character...especially to those who face loss head on and then pick themselves up and try again.  Really no difference for you and me is there?  Sometimes we think we do things (sin) to such a degree that there is no hope.  We can fall into victim stance, in essence we surrender our agency temporarily.  We think we are at an "end".  But we aren't.  We never are.  There is always another chance, even for us.

This isn't the end of Casey's story either....the rest of the story happens 20 years later when a guy named Grantland Rice returned with "Casey's Revenge":

In his darkest hour, Casey has a chance to redeem himself--another at bat--last inning--against the same pitcher that struck him out.  He has two strikes and everyone thinks he is going to choke again...then:

A whack, a crack, and out through the space the leather pellet flew,A blot against the distant sky, a speck against the blue.

 He hits a home run and Mudville goes crazy!  My experience says that sports fans are forgiving, even in places where sports mean everything to people.  And as Brazil's players try to find themselves again over the next 4 years, they could make this line from Rice's poem their mantra:

The lane is long, some one has said, that never turns again, and Fate, though fickle, often gives another chance to men

I love Brazil with all my heart.... I know this people, they will rebound and they will do the necessary work to overcome.  I am grateful that Heaven is willing to take a chance on me and continues to give me opportunities time after time to get it right..... for the perfect brightness of hope.   

Forca la meu querido Brasil!  Vou ser paciente contigo e sempre sera torcendo ao teu lado.

Doing Hard Things

Every 4 years our  regional Church congregation puts on a pretty amazing even called Pioneer Trek.  They organize about 30 families consisting of:
1.  Ma's and Pa's
2. 10 - 12 kids p/family
3. One handcart
4.  One 5 gallon bucket for each kid

They travel for a few days going over the exact same trails that early Utah pioneers did to instill a sense of historic appreciation of their legacy. They dress up like pioneers (except for the nikes) and have an incredible experience that challenges them physically, emotionally and spiritually.

There were about 30 handcart families this year and they went out to Muddy Creek Wyoming -- site of an authentic Mormon pioneer trail.  They did 3 days of handcart pulling, sleeping in the pouring rain, watching occasional surprise re-enactments of pioneer stories involving actors pretending to be Indians, cowboys and other pioneer leaders with horses illustrating what it might have been like back in the day.  They square danced, they played pioneer games, and pulled handcarts many miles each day.

One particular event is called the "Women's Pull".  All the girls and Ma's all had to pull the handcarts up a hill while the boys and Pa's stood by and watched.  This was to simulate what actually happened in some cases historically as many of the men had to leave their families temporarily to fight with US forces in skirmishes and battles that flared up on the frontier.  Making the men and boys witness the girls struggling to get handcarts up the steep embankment caused quite a bit of emotion.  The urge to jump in and "save" them was pretty strong.  The experience was intended to cause that kind of emotion, empathy, and appreciation for their efforts.  It also did the same for the women--how important it was to have the men helping pull handcarts all those miles.

They didn't starve but went without enough to appreciate what going hungry could mean.  The first night brought a complete horrendous thunder and rain storm.  We were driving up to help with pioneer games on the freeway the night before and could barely see the road.  Totally scary.  We could only imagine what all those families were going through while we were driving. We thought about our kids..... 

We arrived the next morning at the appointed time to help with games hoping we would see our 3 kids.  We were not quite sure what to expect.  We braced ourselves thinking that they might be totally wet and miserable and might not be having as good of an experience. What we encountered was completely the opposite.  Little Lexi came bounding up to me as soon as she recognized me and with the big smile on her face started telling me about the events of the night before.  She was "all in" as they say.  She weathered the storm extremely well.  Then just a few minutes later McKenna came bounding up too!  She was wearing an extraordinary attitude and was on a "natural high".  She had all this zippy zesty energy.  The girls hugged each other and then sat down and immediately started chattering like chipmunks.  I had to take a picture....Their weathered faces framed immensely beautiful smiles!   "Ah...." I said to myself inside.  "They had the experience I was hoping they would have".  They loved that they had to get all soaked and cold and that it was hard.   I saw Braden and he turned.  Oh my, this cowboy thing totally fit him to a "T".  I didn't even need to ask, but of course did.  "How is it going?"  "Could be harder, but it is good."  Braden was ready to chase down a live turkey, kill it and cook it up like they did in early days.  Yep.  The storm barely phased him.  He was ready for alot more, but he made the most of what the program offered which was great.

Doing hard things..... How important is that for all of us?  What about doing hard things well?  It is a difficult thing in this day and age to manufacture experiences that teach youth how to do hard things period, much less to do them well.  The proverbial farm that we used to be able to send our kids to during the summer doesn't really exist anymore.  There are a few here and there, but things have changed. 

Trek is one of those true blue experiences where they can learn the lessons of doing some very hard things.....if they are willing.   It only comes around every 4 years so we are so grateful for those that put this program on and for kids that want to have that stretch..... the desire to grow and be extended beyond normal limits.  To learn what those things mean and how they can apply them in their lives.  These hopefully will provide the necessary preparation for what this crazy world intends to throw at them later.

Cowgirls

At Church 2 days later both Lexi and McKenna were invited to share their personal experiences with the entire congregation.  It was heartwarming to hear what they each learned and to see how the experience touched them in a very spiritual way as well.  Their faith was strengthened.  My heart was lifted, my vessel filled.

We don't have to go on a pioneer trek to learn how to do hard things well.  In fact, we don't have to look very far do we, to see that there are piles of hard things all around us.  The trick is to figure out how we will move "through" them.

• Being patient.....
• Maintaining a positive attitude when things don't go your way....
• Willing to be first....
• Leading when no one else will....
• Accepting feedback without resentment...
• Learning to love the journey you are on....
• Loving one's choices.... 

In essence....."learning to dance in the rain" like these 3 did.  I know others who do this so well.  I am so grateful to them for their examples.  Literally they pave the way for me to follow.  They give me the inspiration and motivation to follow suit.

 

 

 

Things we found in the Fire....

School ended for the kids a week or so ago.  They somehow seem to accumulate piles of paper in the form of homework, notebooks, tests, quizzes, syllabus', notes  throughout the year.

A year ago we started our first end of school bonfire in the backyard firepit.  This means burning all of those piles of paper.  The time had come for year No. 2.  We like to call it Family Home Evening with a twist:  The lesson, activity and treat are all wrapped into one.

1.  The Lesson:  Discussions of what transpired during the year.  Everyone talks about their highlights, lowlights and what they learned.  It usually involves talking about crazy teachers, horrible homework, ridiculous tests, friends, and awesome events.
2.  Activity:  Wadding and throwing of paper accurately into the fire.  (Super highly underrated activity btw)
3. Treat:  Wadding and throwing of paper accurately into the fire!!  :   ) ....... Actually, the treat is S'mores at the end!  

So, we gathered up all the years' schoolwork, sorted into 5 piles, one for each of us, found matches, lit the kindling and started wadding up every single paper into a ball and started throwing them into the fire.  There are seriously hundreds of pages.  One by one each is scanned, sometimes re-read and occasionally placed into an unexpected "save" pile.  It usually takes a couple of hours.  During the wadding and throwing we start reviewing the year.... we recount the highlights, re-tell the stories, hear new things that never made it to conversation until now....as if they just happened. 

 COMMERCIAL BREAK:  Parents- you want to get your kids talking?  Get a bonfire going where they can throw things into it and they will start talking about things you never would have heard otherwise......So fun!

After we get enough coals going, we put in the tinfoil dinners while we keep going.  I come across some little treasures in my pile of soon-to-be-burnt offerings.  They are short stories that McKenna wrote in English.  They are totally hilarious fairy tales full of cheesy romance with contrasting death and destruction sub-themes weaved in.  I read these out loud to the rest of the family causing everyone to end up belly laughing.  Those are keepers.....Then there are those precious gems I find......the little genius doodles that are drawn in the margins of Chemistry homework.  Little sketches long forgotten.....almost burned to death....saved by virtue of a ceremonial ritual.

I pause and check the tinfoil dinners as we hear their juices crackling and hissing inside.  They smell as good as if we were camping.  I throw the first one on a doubled-up paper plate and burn my fingers trying to open up the two layers of foil.  The steam pours out and the smell engulfs my nose....."Ahh!  I hope the potatoes and carrots aren't crunchy" I say to myself.  First bite of potato is perfect.....almost scalds.....Ok, enough of that.... you know what I am talking about.  I get them all ready and we dine like kings....

.....the fire has died down while we have eaten so now needs to be stoked again..... soon a steady stream of paper wads all find their way into the fire....one by one.....the orange flames grow longer and brighter......the aura of heat returns....I back my camp chair back a foot.....finally, the piles of paper are gone....the conversation quiets.....S'mores are finally eaten and then an unplanned transition occurs.....we all slowly fix our gaze on the fire......eyes transfixed--what an easy place to get lost in....

Fire is so metaphorical.  Most of the time the word conjures up feelings of panic and fear. We spend a lot of time preventing and putting out fires.  For good reason......However, the world actually needs fire.   It is a cyclical phenomenon that is important to Earth's environmental life cycle.  

 Fire burns down things so that new things can come up and grow. 

I began connecting what we were doing with that life cycle idea--We were closing out a school year in order to prepare for a new one.  We were purging.....ending things so new things could begin.  It was a cool revelation of how the moment of throwing something tangible became a process of "tossing' other non-paper "wads" of other things in our lives into the "fire" of life.  With each toss, something new was put in its place.... a new hope, a new horizon.  New dirt to seed thoughts ideas and actions.  New growth.......Our little experience became a spiritual experience.  We found the Spirit in the fire.

Some things we found in our fire:
1.  Fire can bring families together
2.  Kids get it when you provide the right environment for learning
3.  Ending things together on our own terms can feel incredibly satisfying
4.  There is spirituality in fire
5.  There is spiritual fire
6.  Spiritual fire can cleanse 
7.  We need Spiritual fire to live our lives in meaningful ways.
8.  There is a forever supply of new beginnings and growth from fire

There was another fire once.... long ago a man was asked to build a fire, and sacrifice something very dear to him in that fire:

 "And Isaac spake unto Abraham his father, and said, My father: and he said, Here am I, my son. And he said, Behold the fire and the wood: but where is the lamb for a burnt offering?"                                        ---Genesis 22:7

Maybe he knew, maybe he didn't, but either way Isaac was going to be that offering put into that fire.  God stayed Abraham's hand but he learned the greatest lesson that day because it was a mirror of what God would end up doing with His son Jesus Christ.  Abraham received a taste of what it would feel like for God to witness the sacrifice of His Son.  Abraham found a profound lesson in that particular fire....

The ultimate sacrifice, the ultimate fire, the ultimate hope and new horizon.

I wonder what we are going to find in next years fire.... ?  What will you find in yours?

Isaac spoke to Abraham his father and said, "My father!" And he said, "Here I am, my son." And he said, "Behold, the fire and the wood, but where is the lamb for the burnt offering?" - See more at: http://bible.knowing-jesus.com/topics/Fire#sthash.fIRMgKq1.dpuf

Isaac spoke to Abraham his father and said, "My father!" And he said, "Here I am, my son." And he said, "Behold, the fire and the wood, but where is the lamb for the burnt offering?" - See more at: http://bible.knowing-jesus.com/topics/Fire#sthash.fIRMgKq1.dpuf

Isaac spoke to Abraham his father and said, "My father!" And he said, "Here I am, my son." And he said, "Behold, the fire and the wood, but where is the lamb for the burnt offering?" - See more at: http://bible.knowing-jesus.com/topics/Fire#sthash.fIRMgKq1.dpuf

O Jogo Bonito World Cup 2014

There is only one thing better than Brazilian soccer and that is Brazilian soccer during the World Cup.  More people watch the World Cup than the Olympics.

It is difficult for the average non-soccer follower to completely understand because the level of intense enthusiasm and expectation that Brazilians have is actually beyond that of any sport here in the US or, in my opinion, any other sport in the world.  It is an incredible feeling to be at just a normal club soccer game which I did once in Rio de Janeiro at Maracana stadium (100,000 cap.)  That was like an NBA finals experience.   So, I can't really wrap my head around what it will be like today or the rest of the tournament during the World cup games when Brazil plays.

Soccer is more like a religion in Brazil than any other country.  Banks close, stock markets respond to local club team wins and losses. Most people don't work on game days.  It is in their blood.  I remember back in '82 when Brazil lost someone wrapped themselves in a flag and jumped off a building....  yeah, intense.  I remember one Sunday at church our leader got up and said that he was cutting short our meetings so the congregation could go home and watch the game!


One Englishman summed it up best:

"Some people believe football is a matter of life and death. I'm very disappointed with that attitude. I can assure you it is much, much more important than that."

Bill Shankly - English soccer manager.

When they play at their best, it is something beautiful to behold....  Their style is unlike others.... totally fluid, creative and free flowing.... It would be like comparing free style Jazz to an orchestra playing classical music.  You have no idea what combinations are going to come out each time they come down the field, just like a saxophone solo.  So that is why it is so captivating to watch.

It is amazing that a simple love affair a young Brazilian boy has with a soccer ball can inspire an entire nation. Today one "boy" named Neymar scored twice to lift Brazil to the first win of the 2014 World Cup.  His country cheered in unison around him.

Call me a traitor but I have to go with Brazil during the World Cup.  Futebol, está no meu sangue....

Vai Ganhar o Jogo Bonito

"Hey Dad, I got some Art Supplies today!"

Girl 1

How many times have you bought little art supplies kits over the years for your kids?  Remember how cool they were to get as a kid....All those crayons and colored pencils all lined up next to each other. Paintbrushes and sometimes pastels (which were always funner to look at then actually use).  I remember how fast crayons and pencils would break or get lost.

So, this is what McKenna told me two days ago. She went out and bought some "art supplies". Sure, why not..... it's the first week of summer.....she is trying to rehab her torn ACL.  So, she has a bit of time to kill..

I was expecting maybe some bunnies, kittens or little puppies that she is always squealing about.  I find her new sketch book on the computer desk.....II can never resist....(which she knows)....and so I open it and there is "Girl 1".  I look and wonder "Really?  McKenna did this?"

Just then she walks in... I am like, "woah, this is really nice!"  She smiles and says "Thanks".  I ask, "When did you do this?"  "An hour or so ago" she says.  I look at her again and she gets this cool smile as if she has been waiting for months for me to walk into this conversation..... oh yeah, she knows she just did something very good.

Girl 2

Fast forward two hours.  I get home after doing some errands.  I stop by the book again to see how Girl 1 is shaping up....Instead I see Girl 2.  "What the...?" So I ask: "Where did this one come from??  She says casually:  "I wanted to do another one..."  I'm all:  Really.....?

I take my time and soak in the details.  The wispy hair strands, following the line of sight of her eyes makes me want to know what she is looking at.., the forward hunchedness of her shoulders....The overall expression is something like "reflective but aloof". Makes me wonder what she is thinking about.  It was fun to absorb this for a minute and then connected the dots to what some simple Art Supplies can actually do!

*Quick Rewind:   I remember how at school I had my school supplies box.  It consisted of a small bottle of paste and a bunch of popsicle sticks, glue, bad scissors, crayons etc....  it was fun to organize all the little parts into their proper space.  By the end of the first week it became a junk box.  They produced wonders such as a handprint turkey and gluing popsicle sticks together to make a beautiful but completely "disfunctional" fan.

McKenna,  I love your work.  This is week 1 of an entire Summer.  There are lots of blank pages left in your sketch pad.... Man I cannot wait to see what will end up being in there by August 30!

Here's a shout out for Art Supplies!

.