The Teacher and the Student

I learned something about Braden (15) a few days ago that I wanted to share.

Braden is a fifteen-year-old who decided early in life — like maybe age two — that the best way to live was by doing right things quietly and consistently. He never seemed to need the world to know what he was thinking or feeling, and whatever people said about him wouldn't change him in the least. He plays on his high school soccer team, loves math and science, and chooses his friends with deliberate scrutiny. He is exactly what you see, and exactly what he knows he is.

So, with that intro, let me share my story. It's tiny, but as big as the universe for me.

His new Church youth leader came up to me at Church the other day and said he had something to tell me about Braden. My ears perked up faster than a doberman sensing a nearby squirrel. Braden is like turning on a light — you don't run home to tell Mom there was light in the room. You tell Mom about the kids who misbehaved in Sunday School. Braden is always consistently present and participative, to the point you just expect exactly what he brings every time. So this was different.

The leader said he'd asked the class what each of them would do if they knew for sure that Jesus was coming in a few weeks. He let each of them sit with that for a few minutes, then went around the room. One said, "I would repent." Another: "I would be nicer to people." Then, "I would try and get myself ready." Then, "I don't know what I would do." Most of the answers were about looking inward — reflective of their own standing, entirely what I'd expect from kids, or from anyone.

Then came Braden's turn. Quietly, and without hesitation, he said:

"I would go tell people."

The leader said there was an immediate change in the room. It was so quietly said, but everyone noticed with their inner ears. A different spirit was felt.

I felt it just hearing the story.

That was it. That was all. So simple, so piercing, so insightful. It affirmed to me that everything I thought I knew about Braden might actually still be true. He doesn't talk about these things. You won't get them at home. We spend most of our time wondering if everything is good and solid when it comes to figuring him out. What a nice moment of validation.

They say it takes a village to raise a child. I believe it. I knew a long time ago — like when the first kid was born — that I was in trouble thinking I could do very much as a parent on my own. It takes touches from a thousand people to shape each person. I'm grateful for a village that includes people like this volunteer leader, who gives his time to teach and counsel my son, and who was generous enough to hand me this small, exquisite window into Braden's heart.

Braden, you made me think twice about how I would have answered that question myself. You were the teacher, and I was the student — and you don't even know it. Once again, just your way: quietly and effortlessly thinking and doing the right things, without looking for validation.

Guitar Moments....

McKenna (17) had spent the long weekend "re-imagining" her room.  It was going through a much needed transformation from a pre-teen "girly" look into a very cool modern hip uptown extravaganza, so she was pretty excited and tired after painting, moving furniture, going through old stuff, making tough decisions on whether to keep clothes that she almost never wears or not...you know, hard teenage issues!

The very cool part of the day came at night when she came into the music room/den and asked me if I would play my guitar to put her to sleep.   I immediately felt a familiar quickening of the pulse, and a little jump of excitement in my heart!  Wow, it had been literally at least 4 solid years since I had done that for any of the kids.  I immediately got serious and pulled out songs from the past that I used to always play to put them all asleep at night.

The notion that this was probably one of those very precious, never-to-happen-again moments was not lost on me at all.  In fact, I knew deep inside that this could very well not happen again.  Just look at the facts:

1. She is halfway through her Junior year  
2. She likes boys almost more than eating
3. She is dreaming of college already
4. She is focused on so many other things.....almost every thought and action moves her to look forward vs. any lingering backward looks at her childhood past, including that of paying attention to parents.... 
5. She is seriously 3 inches from becoming all grow'd up and gone...

So, all this was flashing through my mind as I tuned up old faithful, the guitar I have had since I was 19.  Yes.....cheap, classical, but comfortable and warm.....  I pulled out sheet music that I haven't played for forever.  

I turned out most of the lights.... enough to be able to glance at words and chords to keep myself straight and moving forward, because when you are lulling someone to sleep, much like a baby in a cradle, there is a certain movement....a sway......a rock that must be consistent long enough to make the lulling actually take effect...so, I needed to find that rhythm and keep it going.  

I began..... the first couple songs were ok-slash-rusty.  It took doing a few more to finally get into the right rhythm.  Then that most amazing thing happened that doesn't occur often, but when it does it is just exquisite.....  I entered into that elusive "zone", where nothing can go wrong.... the words come, the fingers know every chord, the picking hand just moves as if it has never stopped.  It all comes together, you find yourself "in" the song, gliding along, riding it like surfing a long curling wave, as if you are traveling in and on the song itself...you somehow have found a way to "weave" yourself into the words and melody and you are one with it.  It knows you and you know it.  Time stops, and there is only oneness with the music.  It is very much like finding an old friend... everything seems so familiar, as if you just saw them yesterday even if 20 years have actually passed....do you know this feeling?  

Commercial Break:  How do I explain my love for music?....  I really believe I wouldn't be near the person I am today without music in my life.....maybe that is a totally silly thing to say.... I guess I really don't know, but just know my life would be different.  Man I love music.....I would like to think it likes me a bit too...  I know people who love animals as much as people.  I understand why.  They find complete acceptance and no judgement.  They can share love with them.  They are tremendously loyal and consistent. Although I do not share the same affinity of feeling for animals, I find strong parallels with music. My experience is that music always accepts me, no matter what my proficiency of singing or playing is.  It doesn't matter how much time has passed, the old familiar songs are always ready for me, and always bring the same feelings when first learned.  Music accepts me unconditionally, and is always ready to embrace me on my terms.....Music takes pain away....it softens my heart, brings clarity to my thinking, reminds me that I can feel so deeply, it helps remember amazing memories....for me music is an aural photo album.  I can remember people, places and feelings so vividly by hearing certain songs. Yes, music elevates my spirit and enables me to feel spiritual things almost more than anything else.

Back to McKenna....

So, I play all the songs that I used to when they were little kids.... many songs bring a smile to my face as I would often try to get the kids attention by switching words up or making up verses that they never heard before....they loved that... they would always want me to do more of that which often ended quickly because my creative stretch often found its' limits with only a verse or two... but that was fun.  This night there was only silence....me, the guitar, and McKenna in the other room, quiet and just listening....

In high school I often fantasized about playing in a band.... how cool the idea was then!  I have never been a "performer" per se.  I don't really have the voice or complete pkg to do that. I have alway just loved playing and singing for myself and maybe a very small group.....  I never needed more.  

As performances go however.....this night was my finest.  Alone, me and the music, with a perfect audience of a girl snuggled in her bed letting the old tunes soak in, letting her mind wander, unwind and relax.  All these familiar songs gathering around me like old friends me reminding me of treasured memories, people I love, feelings I hadn't felt for a long time.....Mostly though, making me feel as if my "offering" was being accepted, as if I had found "home".

Was it all for McKenna?  Yes....  Did I lose myself in the process?  Yes.  Did I achieve the intended outcome?  Yes....she was fast asleep by the time I was done....how much time had passed?  Who knows, who cares....The music for sure didn't and neither did I.  In the end I am so grateful to McKenna for that particular invitation, more so than all the dozens of others that came often back in the day...because this may have been for the last time, to participate with her in something that means so much to me but that had meaning for her too.  What I will treasure more than my own personal journey is if this becomes a lasting memory for her that will make her smile later in her life when she gets invited by her 17 year old girl to play and sing her to sleep....

God is good...

For Good......no comment, it's perfectly written

Click here to hear audio while reading

FOR GOOD

I've heard it said

That people come into our lives for a reason

Bringing something we must learn

And we are led

To those who help us most to grow

If we let them

And we help them in return

Well, I don't know if I believe that's true

But I know I'm who I am today

Because I knew you...

Like a comet pulled from orbit

As it passes the sun

Like a stream that meets a boulder

Halfway through the wood

Who can say if I've been changed for the better?

But because I knew you

I have been changed for good

It well may be
That we will never meet again

In this lifetime

So let me say before we part

So much of me

Is made of what I learned from you

You'll be with me

Like a handprint tatoo on my heart

And now whatever way our stories end

I know you have re-written mine

By being my friend...

Like a ship blown from its mooring

By a wind off the sea

Like a seed dropped by a skybird

In a distant wood

Who can say if I've been changed for the better?

But because I knew you

Because I knew you

I have been changed for good

And just to clear the air

I ask forgiveness

For the things I've done you blame me for

But then, I guess we know

There's blame to share

And none of it seems to matter anymore

Like a comet pulled from orbit

As it passes a sun

Like a stream that meets a boulder

Halfway through the wood

Like a ship blown from its mooring

By a wind off the sea

Like a seed dropped by a sky bird

in a distant wood

Who can say if I've been

Changed for the better?

I do believe I have been

Changed for the better

And because I knew you...

Because I knew you...

Because I knew you...

I have been changed for good...


Thank you

Deixar ir.....

Sometimes letting go is the only way to find out if you are meant to.....









  

The Perks of being a Wallflower

I felt like sharing something that struck me like lightning tonight. I was watching this movie with my kids (yes...on clearplay) called "The Perks of being a Wallflower". I think it is very cool. The script, the acting and the direction is very very good. The music was very 80's which of course always makes me smile. There is a part in the film where the "wallflower" character asks his thoughtful and concerned English teacher: "Why do nice people choose the wrong people to date?" The English teacher replied:

"People accept the love they think they deserve"

I had to stop the DVD and write this down.... There is nothing new about it, I have heard 1,000 things that resemble the intent, but only this time did it hit and then sink in...... like thick paint running down a wall.

I will have to process this for a while because I know there is something both you and I can learn from this. But only after some reflection and honest self-evaluation.....

Sometimes I feel like I have so much love to give — but when others try to give it back I close up. I resist. And I don't know why.

Why do I do that? Am I not worthy? Not good enough? Did I make too many mistakes? Can't forgive myself? Is that it — I decided somewhere that I should just get less?

And is that the same wall between me and what Jesus already offered? Is that the difference — believing in Him versus actually believing Him? Believing that I deserve what He already paid for?

Maybe. I don't know. But I feel like there's something there.

What would it take to lower those walls? I'm not sure I know yet. Part of me worries that accepting love too freely feels arrogant — like I'm claiming something I haven't earned. But maybe that's exactly the wrong way to see it.

Nobody earns it. That's the whole point.

So maybe it starts small. A quiet "yes" when someone offers kindness. Letting it in without immediately explaining why I don't deserve it. And each time I do that — each time I accept rather than deflect — I think I'm not just becoming more open. I think I'm actually practicing faith. Trusting that what Christ said about my worth is true, even when I don't feel it yet.

That feels like the better destination. Not just a man with fewer walls — but a man who believes more deeply.

In Memoriam II

On paper his name was Earl....

I only knew him as Roland. 

He came endowed with unique gifts and talents. 

Some of which I came to know and love, some I saw from afar, and others I never came to truly understand or fully appreciate.

He was elusive, but present

He had a way of looking at things that you and I wouldn’t

His ideas were big, his heart was bigger, and his love of God won the day

He was kind in unusual ways:

1.     He was very humorous and funny which always put others at ease and made others feel very comfortable. 

2.     He was serious but never took himself too seriously which made him accessible to all

3.     He shared his love of art by sharing expressions he created with everyone

4.     He was intense and had complex ideas but at the end of the day he preferred simplicity

5.     He was scholarly, had a PhD, you never would have known it, as he was never pompous.

6.     He knew a lot and was very smart, but he never led with ego.

7.     He was a loner but always drew people into him…. You wanted to be around him.

8.     He taught me how to forgive: (see My cup runneth over post)

His kindness to me was “Immediate, simple and piercing”

He showed his love of God in the way he spent the last days of his life. 

He knew what was coming…

He demonstrated the kind of courage that you don’t see often, 

by refusing to let the cancer beat his spirit.  

He was so kind and loving in how he shielded us from that struggle.  

And in the way he quietly and reverently slipped from this life to the next.

We only felt the humor, the wit, the beauty of a life well lived.

“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?

Only when you drink from the river of silence shall you indeed sing.

And when you have reached the mountain top, then you shall begin to climb.

And when the earth shall claim your limbs, then shall you truly dance.”  

 Khalil Gibran

Yes…. on paper he was Earl, but to me, he will always be “Roland”

May his beautiful life be celebrated forever.

God is Soft...

What is soft....?

babies are soft...

Blankets are soft.....

lips are soft....

kisses are soft.....

feeling understood is soft....

Love is soft.....it has no hard edges or sharp points.... they say that love can hurt.... It only hurts good.  The hurt part of that equation is that it can be so deep that it pulls everything you have down with it, and that can hurt because there doesn't seem to be enough room to pour everything we have down into that space that we want to be totally consumed in.....

Saying goodbye can hurt, but it isn't hard and can still be soft......if you let it.

God is soft....

Mom....I know you saw this one!

Click here: Wicked Game - Travis Wall and Amy

I have been watching SYTYCD since the first episode of season 1.  I love this show... I love the dance, I love the music, and choreography.  What is most special is that I often wonder if Mom is watching with me through all these years..... I like to think she is.  I often find myself wanting to look over at her to see how her face and body are reacting to each number... Without fail she could not watch any dance with just her eyes... she watched with her whole body and soul.  I loved that about her.  It made me change the way I watched music and dance forever.

Mom was a dancer, but I knew her best as a choreographer.  I have a special appreciation for that part of her craft as it often goes unheralded or understood.  The dancers make it come alive...the choreographer is held hostage by the dancers... unless she can design, tailor and inspire the dancers to "live, breathe and ultimately create" the dance, it may not work.  I was a student of Mom's for many years.  I danced her choreography to tap, charleston, swing, etc.... growing up.  I loved performing and I still remember many of the routines.  I remember Mom agonizing and staying up late writing moves on reams of paper trying to figure out the right sequencing... playing, stopping, rewinding the music over and over matching steps on paper with the precise point of music.  It was her creative process.  I never really understood it but loved it.  She left a legacy of choreography literally all over the world.  Hundreds of students can say they were taught by Mom and many of my friends still tell me that from Brazil and Indonesia.  They remember those experiences and were glad she was their teacher.  She loved to praise her students.  She had patience and empathy to no end.

Season 2 produced a wonderful dancer named Travis Wall, one of the top dancers who was runner-up that year.  He moved quickly on to be a top choreographer and has since helped with the show for many years.  This particular video was a recent number on Season 10 that was not only choreographed by Travis but he is a dancer in it as well.

It is one of those pieces where time stops, chills come over the body and emotion rises in the chest, at least for me it did.  I love how this art form can make me feel.  I am not sure why dance does this to me, or music, but there is something spiritual about it and it feels familiar to my soul.

I thank God for music and dance... it is part of me and I feel so connected to it.  I owe it all to my Mom.  So, yes, I know she was there watching this with me... and this time, as I turned my head and looked to her face for the reaction........this time she was there...... and I saw the tears running down her face and her hands crossed against her heart silent exclaiming how beautiful it was.

"Thank God for the artist's part" was a line my Dad wrote once in a poem honoring Mom and her contribution to dance.  I honor both her and Travis tonight.

Good lump in the throat experience and was so happy Mom was there.....

On Friendship

Kahlil Gibran

Your friend is your needs answered.

He is your field which you sow with love and reap with thanksgiving.

And he is your board and your fireside.

For you come to him with your hunger, and you seek him for peace.

When your friend speaks his mind you fear not the "nay" in your own mind, nor do you withhold the "ay."

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

For without words, in friendship, all thoughts, all desires, all expectations are born and shared, with joy that is unacclaimed.

When you part from your friend, you grieve not;

For that which you love most in him may be clearer in his absence, as the mountain to the climber is clearer from the plain.

And let there be no purpose in friendship save the deepening of the spirit.

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.

And let your best be for your friend.

If he must know the ebb of your tide, let him know its flood also.

For what is your friend that you should seek him with hours to kill?

Seek him always with hours to live.

For it is his to fill your need, but not your emptiness.

And in the sweetness of friendship let there be laughter, and sharing of pleasures.

For in the dew of little things the heart finds its morning and is refreshed.

Man I love this poem and I love this guys' work.....He slays me every time I read it.  I see myself "in it" but with a new perspective and new insight at each read.  He explains things that I cannot....he somehow knows exactly how I feel.  I can't read this without a lump in my throat.  I would have loved to have sat down with him, with a nice big ol' Big Gulp brown drink and then chatted with him about his inspiration for this and his context.  I find him fascinating.  This particular piece has blessed my life to no end...... Thank you!

Matando Saudades

re·un·ion/rēˈyo͞onyən/

Noun:  An instance where two 

or more people coming together 

after separation.

After all, I think there are really only a few things I truly know in my life.  Most things I take on hunches, instinct and faith.  When it comes to a "surety" of things, well, I only know of a few things.....One of them is about "Friends".
There is something about the connection we feel with one other in this life that just can't possibly be an accident, happenstance or coincidence....at least not to me.  
We spend our lives seeking "reunions".... Why?  Why do we long for childhood friends?  Friends when we were 5, 6 or 7 years old?  All we did then was play silly neighborhood night games, ride bikes, shoot BB guns, play dolls and build forts.... Why do those memories linger so strongly and seem to permeate our brains like permanent ink?  Why do we feel the ache inside at night when we try and sleep but our minds go back to those simple memories of those wonderful times, replaying the movie over and over, even though often, those simple things we did seem now so insignificant, but so powerful?  Why do these memories of people keep us up at night....we wonder what they might be doing now, would they still remember us?  Do they dream of me?.... I find myself doing this often as if I am secretly wishing for a fantasticial "peter pan" moment to go back and do it all over again......

What is the longing (saudade) that we feel?  Why are good-byes so hard?  Think about it.... once in a while we do end up finding a childhood friend, seeing someone from high school all over again and in 5 minutes we have "caught" up.... simple, sweet, there is nothing more except a reminder that, "yes indeed", this person does exist, that we did do those things and that it was good.  Why does 'seeing' that person(s) have to be so much part of the deal.  Does seeing them make the memories different?  Probably not because they are what they are....But seeing the person, actually making that "contact"......the mutual look in the eye.... the silent but knowing feeling inside that we are briefly....all that we were before, that does seem to keep the memories alive and it validates that they were so great after all..  

I have learned that sometimes we think the magic is in the talking, the conversing.... maybe sometimes it is for some.  But for me, there is a security and comfort that comes from knowing that the connection we have emotionally doesn't necessarily require 

words......that the space where the  magic  happens is not what we say, not even reliving

 the stories from yesteryear, but just that silent knowing that we are still connected... that we feel the same way, that we are.....yes, still friends even though we haven't talked for years.  I have literally experienced my well being completely filled with just one knowing connected glance....that is all I needed, in fact, it was all that we both needed.  

One odd thing that can happen, is when the reunion goes too long.... when that one extra day you thought would be awesome to extend the connection in the end actually didn't help after all.... The realization that maybe it didn't need to go that far, that deep all over again....  Just because you were best friends "then" doesn't mean you still are now... does that make sense?  I have played that game and lost... meaning, I have found myself thinking, hoping even believing that the reunion must mean something more now for the future.... when it really doesn't.  It wasn't about changing the future, it was more about remembering enough about the past, which in turn validates the present, which then allows one to move forward.....and to allow them to do the same with no obligation of some new expectations.  This hurts when it happens, but mostly we do it to ourselves....

Can I just say that I have had my fair share of these experiences..... Nothing makes me feel more alive, more relevant, more real than anything else.  It is as literal a thing then anything else I know  to remember who I am in those moments.  No wonder I find myself really secretly loving reunions of all kinds.  Why wouldn't I want to seek that out and feel as often as possible?

So, being a guy that has spent his life saying "goodbye" to friends all over the world, I relish now the fact that I have a lifetime to pursue "reunions" of all kinds.  The pain then... of saying goodbye, it balanced now with connecting with each one that I know now.  The hot tears of separation are replaced with warm tears of joy. 

Maybe I am not alone in this world after all

I don't know if I need religion to believe this because I wonder if all people don't feel this way in some form or fashion.... maybe not as I have explained it, but in their own way.... but I do love the fact that my religion does support my feelings about "Reunions".  In fact, it presents this idea that we were all together before we ever came to this earth.  That we were connected first "then", so that one day, we would be re-connected all again "later".  Is it out of the realm of reason to think this could be true given that during this life we feel so compelled to "Reunion-ize" so much and so often?  It is possible that the feelings of belonging and yearning to be with others came with me as I was born to this earth... that they aren't temporary, fleeting and insignificant?  Rather that they are part of me and part of my discovery and journey here is to seek those out that can help me be my best self, whether that was a 2nd grade side kick or just a work colleague or those few that somehow completely understand me in ways that even my family may not.

So, I don't know about you, but for me....yes, I will choose to yearn for reunions with my friends as long as I am able.  Some will be sooner than others.  Ultimately I look forward to that one last final reunion that I believe binds us all together beautifully and eternally.  You know who you are... you are so important to me, I cannot even properly express my love for you....let me just say that:

 I needed you "then"       I need you "now"          and I will need you "later"

You are my Friend