The joy of running

I’m learning to like running.

“How?”, you ask.

By not making any plans.

Saturday afternoon I set out to run at least two miles. Two miles marked the full extent of my planning. I had no set route. No GPS to measure my progress. No phone or clock to keep time. Nothing but a beautiful day and time. My feet hit the end of the driveway and I turned right, but within less than twenty strides I’d decided to explore. Another twenty strides and I turned left onto a street I’d never taken before.

Abercrombie sported a few people up and down the street and I zigzagged back and forth in an effort at mobile social-distancing. By this time I had already started to breathe a little harder. I’m no six minute miler. More like a ten minute miler. I pushed a little, but I settled into a pace I could keep without stopping. I ran until what amounted to a dead end before retracing my steps and heading back home. I felt great as I pushed myself all the way to the driveway and, slowing to a walk, walked right past. Over the next mile I strolled, sprinted and punched my way into a cooldown before finding my driveway again and turning in.

I felt great! And I felt appreciation for the freedom I’d had to simply be.

No real goals.

No timer.

No schedule.

Just me and the open road.

And I loved every minute of it.

So much so, in fact, that every run since has turned out the same way. I run until I don’t want to run. Strangely, I find I’m running faster, longer and harder than I did when I had goals, timers and a schedule. It leads me to wonder what other places in my life would benefit from such freedom? Something to explore another day.

So, like I said, I’m learning to love running by not making any plans.

What about you? Care to give it a try?

Praying with an open hand

“Be careful what you pray for. You just might get it.”

Anyone in church circles has probably heard this admonition before. I came face to face with it last week as I struggled with my longings. I wanted to pray. I wanted to ask God to fulfill my desires. I wanted to entrust my hopes to Him with anticipation. And then I heard these words from the recesses of my mind. I began to worry over the rightness of my desire and felt a deep sorrow.

Thankfully, I dared to question this so called wisdom that I’ve taken at face value for so long. I won’t completely throw it out. After all, I do believe there is wisdom in these words. However, that wisdom can only be found in a right understanding of who God is. When I addressed my fears, I realized my expectation saw God’s “you might get it” answer as bordering malicious, as a punishment.

But that’s not the God I serve!

The truth is found in the reminder that God is love. At any point He chooses to give us our desire where it causes pain or hurt, His purpose behind doing so is one of Love. It is a gift to make us into better men and women, better children.

Armed with such a hope, I returned to my desires and began to pray freely. It reminded me of Christ in the Garden. His prayer in the Garden is raw and honest. He prayed freely before God and shared His desires without reserve. And when all was said, He submitted himself to the Father in complete trust – “not my will, but yours be done.”

For me, it can be summed up in these words. Pray with an open hand.

Ultimately, desire is desire. I want what I want. What I’ve come to believe is that I can bring all of me to God, and that includes all of what I want. Ultimately, he may say no. He may also say yes in order to teach me. Note here, not to punish me! And He may also say a simple and gracious yes. In all of this, I’ll never know if I don’t ask. And if I am truly in a relationship with Him, I will want to entrust it all to Him. He loves me and has my best at heart.

So, knowing all that I will pray what is raw and honest while trusting Him to answer as is best.

And I will pray with an open hand.

Sail on

Photo by Johannes Plenio from Pexels

blessing the boats  (at St. Mary’s)

by Lucille Clifton

may the tide

that is entering even now

the lip of our understanding

carry you out

beyond the face of fear

may you kiss

the wind then turn from it

certain that it will

love your back     may you

open your eyes to water

water waving forever

and may you in your innocence

sail through this to that

This morning I struggled to rise. While some days bring with them a dawning of boundless hope, others weigh heavily like leaden clouds on the horizon. Today began with darkness and the scent of ozone and rain. It would have been easy to roll over and seek escape, but I did not.

Recently, I heard another man share his own struggles. Days when, despite all his success and gifts, he must make a conscious decision to get up and do it all again. Today was my day. And I rose to face the day, to carry out today’s tasks no matter how small, to embrace the present, and to entrust my back to the wind. I will face my unknown waters, waters “waving forever”, and sail on.

Dairy is Everywhere (and other things)

This past week saw the beginning of a fast from dairy. A grand experiment in pursuing a healthier and more mucus free lifestyle. And, as of today I have a perfect record of failure.

While someone, somewhere is sitting in judgment, I am laughing and preparing for my next attempt. This has been an incredible learning experience. I had no idea dairy had such a prominent place in my life. When I’ve tried to relate it to others, I tell them dairy flies under the radar. Sometimes, like this morning, it is the bedfellow of habit. “With cheese” fell so smoothly from my lips that my conscious self only became aware once the creamy melt settled onto my tongue. Most times, I am simply unaware. Having never considered it before, I know nothing of its hideaways. Cereal and lattes are easy to avoid. Yogurt and cottage cheese only slightly more troublesome. But I never saw butter chicken curry coming, and only barely dodged Tira Misu. If any lesson is to be learned, it is this – dairy is everywhere!

Or maybe there is something more. It’s been refreshing to engage in battle with something I can laugh about, and I hope it will translate to other, more sensitive places in my life because failure is a great teacher.

So I guess what I’m saying is this. Go forth and fail. Laugh at yourself and learn all you can.

Oh, and dairy is everywhere!

Moving on

Three years ago I bought a house. I believed it to be the best decision for me, and at that time it was probably true. Today, however, I am moving out of that house and preparing to sell. Time have changed, and I with them.

Preparations for today have stirred up memories like sediment in a stream, and my mucking about has only brought up more. In some ways, it was an act of desperation. I’d enjoyed exceptionally low rent for several years, but the house I’d lived in would soon sell. I had to move, and nothing on the market could match my budget. Oddly enough, here in Memphis a mortgage payment could be far less than rent, and it didn’t hurt to know I would ultimately be investing money in my own pocket rather than a landlord’s.

As for other reasons, I was seeking a more “normal” life. My life has never exactly conformed to the status quo. Sometimes I see that as an amazing gift. Others, I wonder what I’ve been doing with my life. At that point in time, I knew the life I had been living needed to change. For the me of three years ago, change meant more stability and more money. So I began pursuing a management career at Starbucks and bought a house. I know I hoped it would bring some legitimacy in the eyes of others, and maybe a wife.

You may wonder, how did that work out for me? Well… not bad. And not in any way like I planned.

For one, I never saw the money I hoped for. Turns out management is not something I’m well suited for. And the house, while quickly paid off due to an inheritance, became a time and money sink. I never had enough to make it the house I’d hoped it would become, and I realized 1,600 square feet with a front and back yard is a lot of real estate to manage for one person.

That said, these past few years it has been a gift. Paid off, it gave me the freedom to leave Starbucks, and after the chaos of my experience there I needed to leave if only for my mental health. In the interim between my sister selling her house and purchasing a new one, it provided a home for her, my niece and my nephew. And when a friend needed a new place to stay, I had an extra room for him. But most of all, this house has been part of a process of learning about the world and myself. I better understand the value of my time and mental well being. I had to learn that lesson through imbalance of a job, a life and a home.

All in all, it served its purpose and I am grateful I made the decision. But as I mentioned before, times have changed and so have I. I’ve rediscovered my long lost dream. I’ve found peace in who I am, and I am not trying so hard to match up to what others think is normal. (Note, if you happen to be looking for a life partner, it might do well to find someone as crazy as yourself.) And I am free. Free from most of the obligations of my peers. It is startling to realize I have the same freedom I did the day I first braved the world and left for college.

Thankfully, I also have a little more experience and, I hope, wisdom. And soon, once the house is sold, I will also have a fair starting point for this next stage of life.

All in all, I guess life is still life. I made the best call I could at the moment. I ran it for all it was worth, and now it’s time to move on. I don’t regret the struggle. I certainly don’t regret the blessings that shined linings of silver on sullen, grey clouds. They made me who I am, and have laid and are laying the foundation for what comes next.

& what’s next?

Well, I’ll save that for another day.

2020 Vision

2019 was a special year for me. It opened the door on dreams I had locked away. Hope awakened belief, and I began to listen to voices that had, in all likelihood, always been there. Voices daring me to embrace the dream. A dream I had never been able to completely do away with no matter how broken or battered I became. And last year, I took my first steps as I started writing songs and played my first solo show.

Now, it is 2020 and the dream continues as I take up a new challenge. I find it interesting that this is 2020, the scrip for perfect vision, especially as this is a year of clear vision for me. Over the next year, I will be documenting my journey via social media. When I chose to accept the challenge, I knew I would have a lot to learn. But that was the point of the challenge. To live openly in hopes that someone else might find inspiration and begin a journey of their own. Maybe, in chasing my own dream, I can help someone else also embrace who they are and what they hope for.

What is that going to look like? Well, the big picture goals for the year are to share the story and to write enough music to record my first EP. In order to reach those goals, countless smaller ones await me. One, selling my house to open the door for more time and financial freedom. In a word, simplify. Two, write the first song. It’s in the works as I refine my aforementioned ugly, little baby. Three, begin the social media journey that will hopefully inspire and encourage while building a platform for my music to come. Today marks my first steps here as, in a short while, I will record a short video on Instagram much like this post –  a declaration of intent and an invitation to join the ride. Once I have it ready, I’ll post it here so you can join me there as well.

This may well be the first year I have ever began with such a sense of purpose, and I can’t wait to see where it takes me. Already the wheels are spinning, and it looks like its going to be a wild ride!

Something good

“If you smash into something good, you should hold on until it’s time to let go.”

-Marcello, Under the Tuscan Sun

These words are one of several ideas to remain with me after watching Under the Tuscan Sun. To me, they represent the acceptance of a gift and the willingness to live in the present. So I felt sadness to find they were uttered as a precursor to an affair. Heavy with the weight of inevitability. All affairs must end.

At another point our lead declares her fears aloud. With tears she lays out her hopes for a home, a wedding and full rooms. Hopes she doubts she’ll ever see. And the man who is quite possibly my favorite character in the film tells her the story of a train from Vienna to the Alps, a train whose tracks were built before they had a train that could make the trip.

Finally, from the lips of a care free and enigmatic actress comes a story from her childhood. She spent the entire day searching for ladybugs. She found none. In the end, she fell asleep on the grass only to awaken covered in ladybugs.

Each of these moments is a lesson in itself. But I think each of these moments is a part of the picture that it took an entire story to paint. Juxtaposed they gain a greater meaning.

It is a gift to live in the present, to take hold of good things and hold on until it is time to let them go. But a life lived in the present without care for the future is dangerous, both to ourselves and others. It is in looking to the future that we build the foundation capable of holding and manifesting our dreams. And if we are willing to commit to the tracks, trusting in the train to come, it sets our present on a set of tracks that will lead us toward our dreams. But this too is something to be wary of. In looking too closely for one particular future – one job, one relationship, one mission, we may find that we miss it entirely. Maybe by returning to the present, even at times having fallen asleep, we will awaken to find we have found the very thing we’ve been seeking.

To be honest, this is a path I am learning to walk. It is messy, and full of as much pain and hurt as it is comfort and joy. And as much as I feared it in the past, I think it’s supposed to be that way. I’ve come to realize that I don’t regret mistakes nearly as much as I regret chances not taken. I suppose we’ll see how that turns out.

 

Some days are like this

I’ve been up for just over four hours as I write this post. I feel as if I’ve accomplished little despite knowing the opposite is true. Thus far in my day I’ve completed my morning pages while enjoying breakfast at Brother Juniper’s, written two haiku, made headway in the song I’m working on, spent some time studying the Psalms, and found a pair of pants that fit. The last alone stands as a feat worthy of mention. So why is it that I feel an empty desperation?

Before I begin, I must first emphasize the word “feel”. Feelings don’t always match up with reality. And today, my feelings have waged war against me. I won’t deny them. I’m done playing that kind of game. Instead I hold them up and try to learn from them. Today they tell me that I hold something so dearly I am unwilling to let it go. Should it come to pass, even for mere seconds, my entire day will be filled with a sense of fulfillment. By contrast, fear of losing it projects me into an imagined future and borrowed pain.

I know enough to recognize my enemy. I know enough to engage him. But I don’t know if I’ll win this battle where anxiety seethes just below the surface. I find myself with the Psalmist crying out, “Why are you cast down, O my soul, and why are you in turmoil within me?” And with the Psalmist I remind myself to “Hope in God; for I shall again praise him, my salvation and my God.” It is a declaration. It also, I note, makes no promise on time of delivery.

How then, do I fight this battle in the meantime?

First, I borrow another lesson from Psalm 43. I pray, “Send out your light and your truth; let them lead me.” Lead me into the presence of God – to his ‘holy hill’, his ‘dwelling’, to ‘the altar of God’. There I will strive to lay my desire for control on the altar of sacrifice and take up my song of praise.

Next, I align my actions with my goals and my purpose. I am on a journey, and I am deeply thankful to know where I am going. No matter how I feel right now about what the future might hold, I have agency to invest in what I hope the future will hold. So I will continue to write, to play and to invest in shaping myself right now to become the man my future will require.

My goal is to end my night with the assurance that I courageously moved further into the unknown future. So long as I can see the slightest step forward my day is a victory, even if I lose the emotional battle. While I hope for deliverance or the sweet mercy of God choosing to answer my desire, I know that even if it does not come I am the better for it, having been forged in the fire and having forged my way ahead.

Take courage

“Real courage is moving forward when the outcome is uncertain.”

– fortune (wisdom) cookie

Yesterday’s wisdom is the crystallization of weeks of thoughts, ideas and actions. To dare great things is to court risk, and to court risk is to walk alongside the unknown. Monsters still hide in the darkness. Great workings of the imagination still turn cast off clothes into scaly hides, or a dull reflection into menacing eyes. We still fear a moment’s inattention will bring us to ruin. Our monsters have merely changed form.

Failure, Loss, Hurt… these are some of the monsters we face when we dare big dreams. They hide in the unknown waiting for us to let down our guard. And just as they did before, our monsters paralyze us with fear. And fear turns our imaginations against us.

The answer is courage. But what is courage? I believe courage is what we choose to do even when we are terrified. It is a step forward into the unknown future when we aren’t sure what awaits us there.

But how?

Here’s a few ways I’m learning to be courageous.

• Turn your imagination against your fears instead of using it to serve them. I was reminded that I conquered my nightmares as a child by turning myself into the hero and destroying them. It’s the same idea. Imagine the future that strengthens you to carry out your goals in the present.
• Set goals and lay out a path to get there. This helps in imagining a future that spurs you on. It also gives you day to day tasks to carry out that bring you closer to your goal. Every night I sit down with my guitar in the silence before bed. It’s one of my little steps into the unknown. Every night I’m rewarded with something new in the song I’m working on right now.
• Trust little steps. When we were kids, that first great act of courage may have simple been to free our voice so that we could cry out for help. The same is true now.
• Don’t be afraid to ask for help or join hands with like minded dreamers. We’re stronger together.
• Make time to recount all the things you have to be thankful for each and every day. Gratitude is an extremely powerful tool! It makes it hard to give in to despair when you see what God is doing in your life as you chase your dreams.
• And sometimes… just take a step.

Take courage! The future is unwritten, and that is in your favor!

God’s Little Never Angels

It was a little over a year ago that I first heard of Never Angels. I don’t recall the details clearly, but the man who told me about them gave clear advice.

Be careful what you say you’ll never do!

He recalled his own past and the fate changing words, “I’ll never live in (insert state name here).” It was then, he said, that God sent out his Never Angels, and he soon found himself pastor of a church is that very state.

While I don’t necessarily believe in the existence of a covert branch of the angelic realm bending fate against our will, I have come to appreciate a healthy challenge to my own “Never”s. Looking back I’ve started many sentences with “I never”. I don’t have to look far. Take last weeks declaration as an example.

“I’ll never again own an Apple product!”

But today I ate my never pie as I read reviews of the new iPhone 11. Put bluntly, for the path I intend to take in the near future it may be the best tool for the job. And it may not be, but if it is… Well, I’ll own another Apple product. Worse yet, I’ll be the better for it.

You see, Never is a dangerous word. Never is a biased word. Never is a closed word. Never refuses to look any deeper than its expectations, and I am learning to be wary of Never. I think Never might be one of my greatest enemies. He draws close and pretends to protect me while holding me back. He provides the well intentioned platitude that gets in the way of the new, of growth and of adventure. He blinds and distracts me from the tools I most need. Worst of all, he feels safe.

But I think maybe I don’t need him. I need a whole cadre of Never Angels helping me go places I never thought I would!