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?

Beyond the realm of coincidence

“Oh Lord, all my longing is before you; my sighing is not hidden from you.” -Psalm 38:9

Wednesdays of late have been an irritation. To put it in context you have to understand I work open to close on Wednesdays. It makes for a long day, but that alone isn’t the source of frustration. Opportunity is. I find myself busier than I’ve ever been and loving every minute of it. So my mid week is an interruption, and I hate interruptions.

Yesterday, however, was an exception. I arrived at work without any other thing on my mind to do for the day. I was at peace. If I understood all the reasons why, I’d try harder to plan so I could live there. Since I don’t, I chose to enjoy it.

But as the day went on my peace faded. Expectations I’d held for the day didn’t come to pass and the knot of anxiety began building in my gut. Magnificent stories began crafting themselves in my mind. Great myths and legends to fill the void created by my lack of knowledge. By the way, I’m a great story teller. Sadly, that also means I’m an exceptional liar when it comes to the unknown and I couple that with expecting the worst. It’s uncomfortable to say the least.

In this state, I wasn’t prepared for the last minute rush of customers. About ten minutes to close, a family of ten and a couple others walked in the door. I cursed myself. I cursed God. Then I put on my customer service face and started helping them. In the midst of this I received a single message that turned everything around. The customers who would keep me well past close became a blessing instead of a curse. And the very thing I’d longed for might yet come to pass even at this late hour.

I was chastened. God showed me in a single moment that everything sits in the palm of His hand. He went out of his way to stack the odds beyond the realm of coincidence so I wouldn’t miss it, and I heard him loud and clear.

I see you.

I love you.

I know your longings.

Trust me.

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.

Getting there

This morning’s commute set me right in the middle of rush hour traffic. To my considerable relief I found myself in the steady lane. No stops. No sudden bursts of speed. Only a slow but consistent spin of tires on pavement. It made for a stress free ride past lanes clogged on either side. With relief came recognition. There is benefit in constancy.

That acknowledgement makes perfect sense following Friday’s frustration. All day Friday I felt the frustration of being stuck. Much of my life right now is waiting. I’ve done all I can do, and now I am waiting on others so that the journey can continue.

Yet, I also remember the thrill of the rush of activity that brought me to this place. There is a profound joy in busyness and chaos. At least when it’s in my favor, and I had a good run before traffic ground to a halt.

In the end, every one of these circumstances take us to our destination, and I’m not sure one is any better than the others. I appreciate the consistency and low stress of a steady pace, but I also find value in the highs I only find in the company of troubled lows.

I’ll do well to remember. It’s all part of getting there.

A little inspiration at the end of a rope

I am tired, and wondering if I’ve bit off more than I can chew again. But tonight as I sit here, I am also irritated. I want to be able to handle more. I feel weak.

Last night, I started running again. That single mile reminded me muscles ache and lungs burn. That single mile also begin purging my lungs. It hurt a little, but it also felt great. Furthermore, it reminded me that building stamina, strength, and wind is going to take time. It won’t happen overnight.

So I sit here tired, but I am writing this post. Thankful to have found a moment’s inspiration to share. I have to trust that, as I find my path, I will get stronger and then I will be able to handle more. I will feel a little less weak. I will get a little closer to living the life I want to live.

In the meantime, I know I need to give myself grace to figure it out. And honestly, I probably need to rest. Resting is something I’m not good at, but I’m fairly certain I’m experiencing weariness right now because I have been pushing myself too hard. I need to give the well time to recover.

My thoughts are many and scattered, but I’ll write a few of them here anyway. It’s a way of sharing some of what’s running about in my mind.

I am not sure whether daily haikus are a good idea or not. On the upside, they challenge me to regularly flex my creative muscles, but I hate it when I feel like I’m phoning it in for lack of inspiration or energy. I don’t want to cop out, but I don’t want to wear out either. And this week, I’ve done nothing. By the time I got home I have been drained emotionally, spiritually and physically. There has been nothing left to give. (I am also spending more time writing songs, which is what I set out to do with the haikus in the first place. That may be enough.)

Mornings are my most valuable time. I need to get them back. That means taking control of my nights again.

I love the people who have given me a place to stay while I am selling my house. They are dear and generous friends. At the same time, I am ready to be back in my own space again. Change can be good, but I certainly feel it as it’s wreaked havoc on my routines. Making new routines is exhausting. Necessary, but exhausting.

And lastly, my thoughts have brought me full circle to an earlier conversation. It’s the reason I won’t give up on all of this even as it wears me out and forces me to figure out this chaos. I don’t remember exactly what my friend and I were talking about, but it came back to the sheer numbers of our culture who are busy watching other people live their lives. I won’t say it’s all bad. It probably isn’t. You know, all things in moderation. But as I limit the shows I watch, the media I interact with, the social media I consume, I find I’m living a little more. It’s harder to live that way. Mostly because I’m having to learn new, more valuable things to fill my time. The vacuum created by giving something up is the greatest danger. It begs for that easy habit to step back in. And going back to the start of this post, new habits don’t come quickly or easily. But I guess, even as tired as I feel, I don’t want easy. Easy won’t get me where I want to go.

In the end, I want adventure and excitement. I just want to make sure it’s my own.

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.

Life lessons bound in leather

This journal is one of my favorite Christmas gifts, and as of today I am 40% of the way through it. I felt a little sadness as the imminence of its passing crossed my mind. Soon I’ll trade it’s cloth-like paper for the smoother, modern sheets of my usual journal of choice, a Moleskine Cahier. The quote etched leather binding will give way to plain card stock, and the legal style horizontal binding transition to a more tradition vertical binding. And while that day is still a ways off, its passing is inevitable.

Today it marked a reminder that all good things must end. Yet even as I see that day approaching, I will continue to use my journal to the fullest. I will not shorten my time with it in hopes of making it last a little longer. I will not avoid it, and in using other journals keep it closer for just a bit longer. I will not put it on a shelf to admire from afar. I will not run from the inevitability of our parting.

Instead, I will continue to meet inspiration, joy, worry and sorrow within its pages. I will continue to take pleasure in the feel of the paper, the way it takes the lead of the pencil, and its unique aroma. I will enjoy it until they day comes that our time together has come to an end, and then I will, with fond memories, move on. Made better by my time with it and ready to embrace the new and the different.

Such is today’s life lesson. One found in blank pages and pencil lead. One bound in leather.

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!