Where Angels Land

Last weekend I found myself in this place shown to the left....  a place called Angel's Landing.  A most spectacular and unique place.  There is a reason for the name.... It is like those movie scenes where you see someone on top of a particular peak that they couldn't possibly have gotten to without the aid of a helicopter..... or by the wing's of an Angel.  6 people have died since 2005 exactly where this picture shows.. this last .5 mile spine with chains to help guide each footstep to the final peak.

I didn't really want to climb it.  I was at a family reunion and that morning when roll call went out for those going on this hike, my hand did not raise as part of the "counted" as going.  But something inside said "go".... So, I went.....

My head was telling me that I should go with my two sons.... my heart had something else in mind but I didn't know what that was until later.....later when I was winded, exhausted and taking more and more little breaks on the way up.  It was very hot, I was exerting a lot of energy.  It felt pretty good, although I was out of shape.

During the hike my mind shifted from paying attention to the trail and surroundings to an internal thought that was brewing inside and trying to bubble up....It finally surfaced as I was about 3/4 of the way up.  the thought was pretty clear once if formed in my mouth and I actually said it out loud to myself:

"Aaron, you need to leave something up here that you will not return with...."

I listened to myself as I said it.  I pretended to question myself but I knew exactly what it meant.  I just didn't know where that question came from....or rather, I wasn't sure that was going to be the question.  I have been working on a theory of mine over the past couple of years... which is, maybe if I spend enough time on figuring out the right questions in my life, and then offering them up to Heaven, maybe that is the best way for me to ensure I am on the right path and doing the right things in the moment of that particular question..... (It wouldn't be me if I didn't make this complex)  I knew instantly that the reason I came was  not actually just to be with my kids.....(btw they took off way ahead and didn't see them that much anyway)... rather it was to have this question accompany me on the way up and then extend the invitation to leave something by giving something up.  

The good news is that I have a rolodex of hundreds of things that I could do without that I have collected along the way that are pretty much unnecessary in my life. The bad news was this was not going to be one of those "low hanging fruit" things...  This was going to be something more significant, something that I would not want to give up, something that would make me a bit afraid to not have in my life anymore....something very familiar, something that seemingly would feel safe, but ultimately would keep me from spiritually growing up.....something that would hurt.
  
My thoughts crystallized with each step.  The remaining difficult .5 miles was slow and technical, giving me time to ready myself.  It wasn't easy... I fought and wrestled inside trying to replace the "thing" with another thing, but it wouldn't go away.  It won the day and I was tired inside now, not just my body.  I slowly gave in.  I started to go through the mental motions of giving that up.... offering it to God.  Letting loose the tight grip I had on it.  I tried to "feel" ahead what that would feel like afterwards..... days from now, what would I think and feel... would I recover, would I stick to it... could I sustain and maintain?  I wasn't sure.  But I knew I had to try.

So there on the very top of Angel's Landing I found a quiet little spot, I closed my eyes and offered a very simple prayer.....  "Lord, please send Angels to help me let go of what I need to"  I thought it would be ok to ask that way, given the location.   "And grant me the strength to see it through, to fight through the pain it would bring, to grow up so maybe I could help others do the same."

Some tears came.... partly due the physical exhaustion, mostly due to the parting....like letting go of a friend.... but it was time.  Little boys must grow up.  I have a new perspective on the whole Peter Pan philosophy and empathy for Pan himself. 

"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"                -- GIbran

  I came down from that mountain a bit different.  I thought about if I had not chosen to come.  I remembered the wrestle I had internally earlier that morning.  I felt the victory of making the choice I did.  It was a very interesting experience that I was not planning on.  It happened.... I felt it was important, I felt I needed it.  What was particularly special was what I learned that day.  I learned that listening to that still small voice is important.  I learned that acting on promptings can make a difference... I was reminded that a man named Jesus was willing to give up something too.... for me and for you.  He too wrestled inside and with God, in a way I will never understand. He asked too "if possible, let this cup pass away from me", He was tired and exhausted and yet and he gave up his life of his own free volition.  I was grateful for the experience, yes....even the test, to see what I would do, on such an infinitesimal scale.   

Should chance and you meet on this mount someday.... I openly invite you to consider what question you could ask yourself as you reach that place where Angel's land and Heaven feels a bit closer.

Pray for me....that I can "stick this landing" like I need to, and I will pray for you....

Coming Home

The last time a picture had such a powerful emotional effect on me was when I saw my mother as a young woman dancing  for the very first time.  (*See "Finishing Touches" post)

When I saw this one today, two days before Landon comes home from his 2 year mission, I was struck by 100 things all at the same time and I didn't even know what they all were, yet at the same time they all made sense in my heart and I knew that I would slowly dissect each segment -- like peeling apart an orange a section at a time.  Mostly I just had a "knowing" feeling.  Immediate knowing.  A new friend of mine would call it "Suchness."  It was much more about feeling this photo than it was about seeing or looking at it.  I fell instantly in love with it... with what it captured, conveyed and spoke to my heart.

I love first that it is in black and white.  It almost has a a late "50's or early 60's" feel to it.  A bit of a throw back.  The fact that he is completely alone, headed across this bridge... Oh, what a bridge it is!  A major bridge in his life, a metaphor of the transition back, a crossing.... a rite of passage..... a moment of maturity, a resoluteness in his posture and step.  He isn't wavering is he...No, his gaze is fixed, his air of assuredness noted and his sight is set and it isn't downward, it is set on the prize...

Once someone I respected a great deal offered me some counsel after a particular trying assignment I had on my mission.  I had been in one area for 9 months and confined to an office.  He said, when you leave this area for the next one, don't look back.  Do a 180 degree direction change and just move forward and don't spend anytime looking over your shoulder wondering, or fretting about what will come behind you.  It was exactly what I needed.  I needed to give myself "permission" to move forward, no regrets, no doubts.  I feel this is exactly what this picture conveys to me.  Landon isn't wondering or fussing about what he is leaving.  He has done it, completed the requirements, given his all....now ready for the next experience...the wind at his back.

Noone is watching, he doesn't need that... he has his own terms.  Seems right.

I said two years ago I would catch you on the "flipside"  Just pretend Landon that we are on the other side of that bridge.......

"Well done thou good and faithful servant"

Father's Day

Landon posted the other day on FB.  I didn't even know about it until it had been there a while.  He said some very special things that tore me up inside, in the very best way of being torn up inside.... I couldn't hold this one back at all... it just power punched me right in the heart and I was a pool of goo after that....literally I think I just melted onto my knees.

First:  The photo.... How on earth did he get this??  I don't even remember owning this one.  Rod Manning was my companion in Portugal when I served my mission for the LDS Church back in....uh oh...are you ready?   1985.   Landon is on the right, looking better....as he should, with his last companion in Edmonton.  What a cool pic!  I will treasure this one....

Second:  The honor......What an incredible way to honor this long standing LDS tradition of serving missions.  Mine changed me and my life forever... I believe Landon's has done the same for him.

Third:  The gratitude.....this is pretty profound for me.  Other compliments are wonderful.  This one....wow... kinda can't really express or completely take in yet.  It is like the water overflowing a pitcher in the sink...  not enough room.  I think of all the people in my life that it took to help form my choice to go.  Too many people, not enough words.  This is just so very deep and special to me.  

So what is the lesson?  Do good things... all the time,  'cause someone is watching and you truly never know what the ripple effect can be....

You think that sometimes it is the things you say that might be the biggest part of parenting.... finding the right words, saying them the right way, trying to never miss those teaching moments that are so fleeting... but this is a reminder that maybe one of the best parenting practices was about something I did vs said.   Especially crazy since my mission was 30 years ago, long before I was a parent.  Interesting to now hear Landon's thoughts and feelings about what I did so many years ago, now continues to influence him in a pretty significant way.  

Humbling is what it is..... and beautiful too.  I love you more than you will ever know.  Thanks for taking the time, sharing your words, hoping and knowing that I would love it.  Thanks for your generosity.

Landon.... I can't really find the words to express the gift you just gave me.  I will find room for it, and I will make a special place to honor it with you.  A trophy, a legacy, an echo of eternity.....


                                        Thank you.
                                               谢谢

The Sound of one Million Memories

The second time I ever heard "Careless Whisper" was on the plane leaving Madeira. The saxophone had barely started when something in my chest gave way. I was nineteen. I didn't even really know who George Michael was yet. But I knew what that song held — seven months of a life I was leaving behind, pressed into four minutes of music like flowers dried between the pages of a book.

The first time I heard it was the day I arrived. It was playing on the radio when I walked into Mae Amelia's house for the first time — she was the first member of the Church ever on that island, and she had built a small apartment in her garage just for the missionaries. She became our second mother before we'd even unpacked. She cooked every meal. She let us eat with her family. She had this way of making you feel like you had always belonged there, even when you'd just arrived from somewhere else entirely — which, for me, was always. I remember noticing the song that first day and thinking: this place is going to be something. And it absolutely was.

Have you ever heard a song and found yourself suddenly, completely somewhere else? Not just remembering — actually there, immersed in every detail, every feeling, every smell. It happens with a phrase sometimes, or a word, or the particular way light falls on an afternoon. Something outside you reaches in and pulls the past forward. The feeling is never really gone — it has just been waiting. Patient and knowing, like an old book pulled from a shelf, dusted off, opened to find that the underlined passages still land exactly as they did the first time. Still relevant. Still deep. Still yours.

Memories never truly fade. They get put aside, just out of reach — until something calls them back. And then they are astonishingly present. Every detail, every emotion, fully assembled and ready. The subtle creak of the memory door opening is the sound of one million memories. An invitation to return and drink deeply from a well that never runs dry. Every memory its own destination — its own language, tone, and timbre. Its own feeling that is never truly forgotten.

Just like mine on that plane. I wasn't prepared for what those opening notes would do to me. Every face. Every doorstep. Every meal around Mae Amelia's table. A million moments flooding back all at once, before Madeira had even disappeared beneath the clouds.

I am hearing a lot of creaks these days. Kids leaving home, changing jobs, friends no longer seen. But when the door opens, what comes through is almost always beautiful — warm and familiar, like falling water over rocks. The hard part is knowing I can't stay. I have to wake up, return to today, and find what it takes to make the next memory worth visiting someday.

Remembering, to me, is the sound of one million memories.

May you hear the creak of your own remembering — and when you do, may you return, soak, and marvel at what you find. Nothing is so sweet or so powerfully moving as those little trips that capture your imagination, refine your purpose, and remind you who you really are.

Remember well.

The Meeting Place

Out beyond ideas of wrong doing and right doing, there is a field.     I will meet you there.            -Rumi

The Invitation

It wasn't supposed to happen this way. But it did. She invited me. And it made all the difference.  When it comes to my faith, I am usually the one doing the inviting. I'm not sure why it happened differently this time. It was unexpected, unintended and unsolicited. But boy am I glad.

There was a special building being built in her town. Just down her street actually. A house of faith — interestingly not of hers, but of mine. Which only deepened the irony of what was about to happen.

LDS Cordoba Temple

She had been watching it being built for a few years, just a few blocks from her house. One day she asked me if I knew about it. I didn't. So I looked it up and informed myself. She asked about the Open House — I explained that the building would be open to the public for a few weeks before being dedicated. And then she invited me to come down and go through it with her and her family.

I think you can guess what I did.

What is it about invitations that do something to us before we even respond? Think about a recent one you received. A wedding, a graduation, coffee with a friend. You probably don't remember consciously registering it — but you remember feeling glad. Even if the event itself was forgettable, the invite wasn't. That feeling of being beckoned toward something, of being seen as someone worth including — it lingers. It creates anticipation. It whispers that you belong to something bigger than yourself.

That is what an invitation does. It doesn't demand. It hopes. It draws you in and then quietly asks — do you see yourself here?

A real conversation always contains an invitation. You are inviting another person to reveal themselves to you, to tell you who they are, what they want, what they need.

And then there are those rare ones that invite you home. The ones that produce that particular burn in the chest that only ignites when something deeply familiar is recognized. When you find home you find yourself — the best version, the truest version. You remember that you matter to someone. That you belong somewhere. Both people feel it at the same moment and neither can quite explain it. No conditions, no expectations, no promises. Just complete trust and the quiet sharing of what is most important. Differences in culture, language, background — they dissolve instantly, like magic powder in water, producing something that satisfies but never quite sates.

I traveled halfway around the world to walk through a building I already knew. What I didn't expect was what I would witness inside — a labor of love that humbled me completely. People giving everything they had for others far less fortunate, never treating anyone as anything less than equal, always with ultimate dignity and respect. I had come to share something of mine. What I received in return was worth so much more than anything I brought.

"And there are those who have little and give it all. These are the believers in life and the bounty of life, and their coffer is never empty. There are those who give with joy, and that joy is their reward." — Gibran

I left quietly changed.

But here is what I have been sitting with ever since. None of it happens without her. Not the invitation, not the journey, not what I witnessed inside that building. And she didn't become someone who could invite me home overnight. That took decades. It took e-mails, and phone calls across hemispheres, it took her in Argentina and me in Utah, it took years of life lived separately but somehow still together — the kind of friendship that doesn't require proximity to stay warm.

She invited me to my own temple. A woman of different faith, different continent, different everything — and yet somehow, she knew exactly where I belonged and beckoned me toward it.

It wasn't supposed to happen this way. But it did. She invited me. And I am still, quietly, on my way home.

Gracias Maria Jose

Dad...My Life's Caddy

This phenomenal 21 year old won the 2015 Masters golf tournament today.  He led from the beginning and never looked back.  Great story, wonderful to watch, and a TV ratings dream come true.

I love golf... Not because I am any good, because I am not... in fact, I am horrible.  But I love the sport because it is so difficult and challenging and like life, so hard to master.  I am not going to compare it to other sports but just accept it for what it is.  There is something about just being "on" a golf course that really captures my imagination.  The quiet stillness and natural beauty have a lot to do with it.  The unfortunate part of the whole deal is having to hit a rather insignificant ball with a metal stick without losing one's proverbial "religion." Ironic for sure, for those hard core enthusiasts that consider golf their religion.  The hitting part usually bites for me, but, I whack away anyway and follow that little guy all over the place.

As I watched these very experienced golfers I started to notice their interaction with their caddies.  It kind of hit me funny.... watching the world's best constantly counseling with their caddies on every single drive, iron and putt....  Why I wondered?  These guys know what they are doing.  They make millions of dollars and have extreme technical and physical excellence.  What is it about these caddies that make them so invaluable?

They are not employees of the club or any association, rather they are classified as "independent contractors."  Their whole existence is to:

• Carries a player's bag and clubs
• Know overall yardage, pin placements and club selection
• Gives insightful advice and moral support. 
• A good caddy is aware of the challenges and obstacles of the course being played, along with the best strategy in playing it.  

The great British golf writer Henry Longhurst once said: "A good caddie is more than a mere assistant. He is a guide, philosopher and friend".  Other people have likened a caddie to a co-competitor/teammate, strategist, best friend or even a wife without benefits... ha!

Aware of the challenges and obstacles of the course

A typical caddie goes out prior to the tournament to walk the course, check yardages, identify ideal targets/landing spots, identify any "danger" areas to avoid, check the slope and breaks of the green, check weather patterns, prevailing wind direction, etc. They collect this information to help make informed decisions to the player during the tournament, or to help a player strategically prepare for a round prior to teeing off.....

My brain started doing that connection thing.... I began to understand in a more profound way how this caddie idea could apply to my life.  Imagine.... a life's caddie.   Immediately an image formed in my mind... quickly as if he had always been there, just out of sight, possibly waiting for me to make this connection, there he was..... My Dad

What a powerful impact that had on my heart!   As I started to reflect more, I realized that my dad has totally been my life's caddie.   He has walked most of life's courses, checked the yardages, identified ideal landing spots, identified the danger areas to avoid and checked the slope and breaks of life's greens.  He has walked many a course building experience to then share with me, the uniformed "life's rookie golfer" at each tee.... How grateful I am for his wisdom over the years.  His loving and supportive counsel and moral support and encouragement.  

Every time I have stood on a "new" course wondering just where the fairway bends, where the sand traps lie, where the right places to "aim" might be he has been there.... quietly, consistently and ever supportive.  He never goes away.  He is always there within reach.  How much better it is to drive the ball with more faith and confidence with just a bit of experienced wisdom from someone who has been there--done that.  Someone that is totally trustworthy, someone that would never lead me astray, someone that wants me to win even maybe more than I do.  He has helped me avoid danger zones so many times.  Learning to have faith in his counsel has been a lifelong journey....  How comforting is is to know that we don't have to golf this life alone--guessing at each new hole.  His willingness to walk before me and then help me through my ignorant struggle is the stuff life is all about.  He can't drive the ball for me....No, I have to do that and he knows that... Somehow he musters the quiet enduring patience to guide me nonetheless......

 What is so beautiful to me, is knowing that he doesn't even have to be physically present anymore, rather,  If I focus and listen carefully,  I can hear him say as if he were:

  "You may want to think about aiming for that tree, because landing there sets you up for a great next shot to the green and avoids the sand trap."

And the ironic sense of legacy is not lost on me as I now think of passing that down to my own children.  How good of a caddie have I been?  Do I sense the right things to say at the right times, lifting at times, building, nudging and trusting?  Or am I overdoing it, am I saying too much, my expectations too high?  So many questions to reflect on... What helps me the most, is to think about what Dad would say, and then do likewise.... yes.... that is when it is best.  

Postlude: Surely, God, our Father knew we would need guidance during our lives here on earth.  He didn't leave us without a caddie either.  He freely gave us his Son and the gift of the Holy Ghost to lead and guide each one of us on our individualized paths.

Howbeit when he, the Spirit of truth, is come, he will guide you into all truth: for he shall not speak of himself; but whatsoever he shall hear, that shall he speak: and he will shew you things to come..   John 14:26

I thank both Fathers,  in Heaven and on earth, both carrying my bag, helping me along my way... my gratitude is deep, and am indebted to them...

                                                                       ...... I never want to golf alone again.

Honorable Friend

"And what is it to cease breathing, but to free the breath from its restless tides, that it may rise and expand and seek God unencumbered?"

Chi, a classmate of mine from high school in Brazil.  He was from Nigeria.  This past week I received a text from a close friend regarding his death and passing.  I immediately called to get  more details.  It was very surprising to hear, we were both bewildered and saddened by the news.

I was not very close to "Chi" as I remember us all calling him.  I do remember a few things:  He seemed like he was 7 feet tall.  He was always happy and seemingly could make friends with anyone anywhere.  Very unassuming and very gracious for a diplomat's kid that had lots of benefits.  He sought after friendship vs waiting for it to happen.  Most of what I know comes from what others have shared about him, especially my close friend recently in his FB tribute to him.

My goal is not to honor Chi in this post...... rather my close friend Francisco, who did that in his own most significant way....

What is interesting is that Chi actually passed away last summer, but none in our global village seemed to know.  That piqued my interest.... I asked my friend how he found out. 

 I N S P I R A T I O N

He said that he just kind of suddenly came upon the idea as he received a skype update message that had Chijoke's name which then triggered an immediate impulse to send an email to his account to say "hi" as it had been about a year since last contact was made.  What came back was a response from Chi's wife explaining the situation.  Wow... "that was inspired" I thought.  "How cool..... How beautiful"

E M P A T H Y

"And when he is silent your heart ceases not to listen to his heart;"

My friend then spent the next 1.5 hours just talking with her, letting her unwind the details, letting the story flow, the events that led up to and since his sudden passing.  He said it was almost as if she hadn't really completely gone through the grieving process, as if it has just happened.  She spoke of the sudden diagnosis followed by 3 quick killer weeks that took hi before she knew it.   She poured out the contents of her heart and my friend just listened and was "there", present, soaking it all in, absorbing the pain, the emotion....yes even the quiet spaces in between the words, where the silent seconds sear the heart... not knowing what to say... wondering where the words would come from. He was completely "there" for her. It was unexpected, uninvited....but drawn desperately in for sure, even if only for a brief moment, in order to relieve the bottled up pain and expression needing release.

G E N E R O S I T Y 

"It is well to give when asked, but it is better to give unasked, through understanding;"

I believe the resource we all possess that is the most difficult to give liberally is that of our time and heart.  People will part with money before they will give up their time.  Then there are those that show some type of pretense of sharing their time, but is easily seen through as a weak smoke screen that fades quickly with even the softest faint breeze.  True generosity to me means giving your all in that moment when the moment requires it.  That moment that requires 100% immediately..... total immersion or nothing.  It also means it seeks nothing in return for that gift.

     "For love that seeks aught but the disclosure of its own mystery is not love but a net cast forth: and only the unprofitable is caught."

I loved that my friend understood this.  No question.  When the time came, the need was surfaced, he dove in.....all in, and it made all the difference.


                           D E V O T I O N

"And let your best be for your friend."

So, because of his devotion and esteem for his friend, Chi, he decides to do the unthinkable....yes, he posts a FB memorial in behalf of Chi.  My friend doesn't do FB.  He doesn't post, he doesn't poke and doesn't like.... but this day he didn't "post" -- he honored.  Thanks you for showing your best for your friend and to the rest of us of how we should treat each other....  I learned a lot about friendship today.

https://www.facebook.com/francisco.ruiz.3781?fref=ts

    

Why is Change so Hard?

Let's face it... change is hard.  It really is.   The fact is change hits all of us every day in a myriad of different ways and waves. Most of the time it is painful.

Do you typically feel that when you experience change, it usually feels like something happened "to" you vs. "for "you? 

Especially if the change wasn't something you were the author of rather the victim of....

What seems so ironic to me is that everything we know about change is that it is inevitable in all aspects of our lives, yet, we typically resist change when it occurs.  I find the tension between the absolute primal need humans seem to have to progress and grow and the incredible resistance that is so often propped up by those same humans to prevent change from happening so fascinating.

Although I have my own unique point of view, all of us are subject matter experts when it comes to change due to the fact that change is so elemental to the fabric of our lives.    As a guy who moved constantly from country to country growing up, the proverbial pool I swam in was a constant churn of change--new people, new schools, new cultures, new languages, new customs, new sounds and smells......  Although I was taught to view change as a positive thing, I developed a particular perspective that taught me 3 key lessons:

1.  Change is almost ALWAYS personal

2.  Change is almost ALWAYS emotional

3.  Change is almost ALWAYS messy

Because at least in my experience these 3 things always happen, I have come to appreciate better why so many people struggle with change, even when self-inflicted or self-produced.  It is because when these 3 things happen the next thing almost always happens:

R E S I S T A N C E 

We resist change like crazy for the most part.  What is so crazy interesting to me is that we, in certain roles have no empathy for this principle yet in other roles we totally do.  Let me try to explain:

As managers, parents or teachers we initiate change all the time.  We introduce it to our children or our employees constantly.  And yet when they seem to "resist" or "not obey" we grow impatient and often frustrated because they don't comply as quickly as we would like.   On the other hand, in our other roles of being children, siblings, employees or students and experience the receiving end of change we resist just as much!   

 In other words, It is ok if I make my kids' life crazy and expect them to be happy with change I introduce, but then at work it is completely ok for me to be very defensive, non-cooperative and resistant to changes that occur if I don't agree with them.

How many times did we as parents inform our kids about a new change -- (ie Moving the family back from NY to Utah) and expect them to be totally fine with the idea.  We couldn't seem to understand why one would start crying, another would be screaming for joy, another would be totally silent and yet another was saying "ok" on the outside, but was dying on the inside.  Then we would get emotional and try all the wrong messages to quickly corral them into the barn of "happiness" in order to make ourselves feel good instead of helping them move through the idea.  This never happens to you right?

The key is that we are responsible for moving ourselves through change, no one else is.  Yep, it means we have to be "big" girls and boys and grow up.  Nothing reduces us to our true selves like change.  You want to check to see just how mature you really are take a big look into the change mirror and see how you react.  There is a very slippery slope of allowing yourself to become a "VICTIM" vs a "VICTOR" of change.  The deepness and wideness of the chasm is vastly different depending upon which perspective and attitude you choose to embrace.  Both are charged with emotion, but one can mire you in the dip of despair and takes a lot longer to move through vs the other where you muster the courage to face and move through change as quickly as possible.

By shifting our perspective just a bit, we can leverage change as a powerful influence in our own and others lives.  If we know these 3 things about change and then always remember that people resist change then we are armed with knowledge that we can use..... we need to manage our expectations knowing these dynamics.  We can prepare people more carefully, we can now be more patient because we now anticipate and expect resistance instead of secretly hoping that people will just simply be happy with changes that happen to them.  In other words, plan on these 3 things and just knowing that can make a significant difference.  It has for me.  We now involve our kids much differently so they are actually helping "design" the change vs. being the nail that waits for the parental hammer of change to eventually hit.  

The other really cool thing about knowing these dynamics and principles of change is that it is entirely OK to be emotional when change happens.  It is inevitable and very ok to feel whatever it is that is felt.  The issue is that we tend to place a value of "Good" or "Bad" to these varying emotions when change happens.  All emotions are ok during change.  There is no such thing as "Good" or "Bad" when it comes to these emotions.  They just are..... we can't put a value judgment on them just because we have stupid expectations of what they should be.  Knowing this and learning how to alter our expectations can be hugely helpful to us and them.

So, pausing for a sec.... do you agree?  Maybe with a few things....?  I am ok with that.  Think about the different changes in your life....... what did you feel?  For how long?  What got you through? Think about your different roles....  Can you see yourself in this picture?   I hope I can just reflect the mirror back on your for a moment in order to assess how mature you are in your journey of change.   

Do I have it all figured out?  No...but I can say that understanding these simple dynamics of change have made a world of difference for me and mine.  I have learned to embrace change.....to make it happen......to anticipate it......yes, even to love it.  I think it is the only thing that makes us grow and stretch in our lives.  Who wants to be "warm safe and dry" at the expense of growing and maturing into the people we are meant to be.  What a huge regret it would be if we look back and see what could have been if only we had modified our view just a hair differently with respect to change that we experience in our lives.   I love how it rips us out of comfort zones, mediocrity, staleness, complacency and stagnation and how it can open our eyes to new vistas, horizons and eternal progression....

....... So take some bite size steps today to help you through whatever pain change has brought you.  keep moving....and good luck!!

The only way to make sense out of change is to plunge into it, move with it, and join the dance

-- Alan Watts

Lessons in Choreography

cho·re·og·ra·phy

noun \ˌkȯr-ē-ˈä-grə-fē\ : the art or job of deciding how dancers will move in a performance;

 I experienced something pretty amazing today that I must share.  Today in Church, during our main congregational meeting members in the audience were invited to come up and share spiritual experiences or feelings regarding their faith.   Usually adults are more prone to share personal things in front of a pretty large crowd than younger folk.  Today a 'younger folk' about the age of 8 made the long walk from the back of the room with intent in her stride.  She came up to the podium, pulled the microphone down to her level, and began a very earnest delivery......

"You all know that I love to act"  she began....  Next came:   "I have pretty much done it since I was like uhm...4".  "I have done a lot of plays and an important part of acting means that you always have choreography"....  

I looked out at the audience and saw lot's of smiles.  What I mostly saw was that she had every single pair of eyes fixed on her waiting anxiously to what she was going to say next.

"Choreography means that you have to learn steps in order to do the play right."  "So, I have to try very hard to learn all the steps in order to do the play right,  so I practice a lot"

I will just pause here for a sec....  

First of all, she had me at "You all know that I love to act".  No, I didn't know that, but felt admittedly guilty that somehow I should have.  She had that way about her.  If only I could convey with words her flawless delivery, the effortless confidence and her absolute matter-of-factness you might be able to truly taste what it might have been like......

Second, there is something not quite right about a second grader throwing around vocabulary like "Choreography" and then being so kind to make sure, we, the adults in the audience would be sure to understand so she explained it real simple like so we could "follow".  It should have felt condescending or pompous... but no, it was pure child-like honesty.

Third, I have never heard a better explanation ever......!  And I think my mom, a professional choreographer and dancer would agree with me.

"So, I was thinking......  If learning the right steps to do a play right is important, then maybe like Choreography, it is important to know the right steps to return to God."

Uhm.... ExquEEZE me??!!    


"I have been baptized so that is good... that is one of the steps.  But I need to figure out the next ones in order to get all the way back."

"So, I have decided that it is really important to figure these out, so I am going to do that.  I am going to figure out all the next steps, practice hard and then I can get back to God."
 
Then she sat down.....   She hushed the crowd.  Everyone was trying to figure out if she was for real or not.  For me, I didn't even hear the next 4 speakers.... I was lost in a different place.  For a guy who really likes metaphors and connecting them to life I was really thrown in a most excellent way.  This little girl blew me away!...   Here is what I learned:

1.  She knows who she is in the most profound way.  She is a daughter of God.  She wasn't wasting anytime talking about how she was going to make Mom and Dad proud of her acting.. oh no, she was way beyond that "childish" game.

2.  She nailed the doctrine of eternal progression.  That we all are here to prove ourselves, to "practice" to try and learn our path and the "steps" to get back to Heaven if we want to. She really wants to.

3.  She knew, somehow, that the performing arts from her vantage point were simply a means to a much more spectacular and grander end.  She saw the end game at 8 years old.  She was connecting some major life dots that most never do.

4.  She was willing to share this simple but so profound formula with the rest of the world..... that being our local congregation.    Honestly, I don't think it mattered how many were in the audience in the least!  She needed to inform us of what she was going to do as if to challenge us to see if we would do the same.

She did more to cause me to think if I actually knew what the next steps in my life were than anyone else that spoke.  I felt her unasked invitation penetrate my heart and really made me take a few minutes to take stock of where I was and what I needed to do next.

Mom always taught a whole dance to others by breaking it up into small chunks of steps and movement.  She would teach little steps and then have us practice them until we became really good at each one.  We would often tire of the repetitive process of practicing seemingly boring and uninteresting steps that seemed to have no rhyme or reason in and of themselves.  It was only after many hours of practice that we started to see the beauty and grace of stringing steps together into patterns and rhythms that would end up as an entire dance.  Only when we saw how the small steps linked to the whole story did we see.  I think that happens a lot to us with the choreography of our lives.   We think the daily routine is too tedious, too insignificant and we fail to see the bigger picture of how each or day leads to weeks, months and ultimately an entire life full of little steps.

Mom would always teach in front, leading and showing us the way, ever so patient as we fumbled with technique.  She knew what the whole story and dance looked like.  That is what gave her the will to wait and watch us master the steps and then put feeling into them which ultimately brought us closer to her vision of what the dance was really about, and also what would bring us the most joy as well.  This little girl somehow knew that God was doing the same thing, leading out in front, being the example, showing us patiently the way, asking for us to have faith in the little steps so that one day the collective sum of all them would lead to a beautiful legacy and reunion.

I am figuring out my next steps right now....  I feel more urgency today than I did yesterday.  And I know I am going to have to practice a bit harder now than ever before because this particular performance is different and has a most amazing finish because of how the story ends.  I want this one too.  I just needed a little reminder about how important it really is to me....

.....I learned some lessons in Choreography today,  I wonder what story the steps of your dance is telling you....