My kids are nuts

This has to be the only explanation as no sane person would walk to the school bus in nineteen degree weather wearing shorts. I love my kids dearly but I’m starting to fear for their ability to think straight. Over the weekend, my youngest had a baseball game. Needless to say, but the wind was up and the chill cut right to the bone.

We sat out there for four and a half hours watching two games, cheering for the team and not moving, because that’s what you do. In an effort to be prepared we may have had three blankets each, plus winter coats, scarves, gloves and beanies; you really have to be ready for these sorts of sporting events in the high desert. My son on the other hand, along with half his team, wore only their jerseys and no under shirts. It wasn’t until the very end before a few of them donned their team sweatshirts. It’s as if my kids have some sort of internal heater that keeps them warm even in the coldest of conditions. It could also be that my kids are crazy.

Regardless of which, what is with the wind around here? I suppose it’s always been this way. Parents and grandparents can probably tell the tale of days gone by that were just as windy, but spending seven hours on a soccer field with forty mile per hour gusts, with a 25 degree wind chill, is not my idea of a normal day in Redmond. I suppose I’ve become expectant to some degree. I know it’s coming, for sure, and yet it surprises me every time.

Just a couple of days ago, we were at a track meet for my oldest and the wind would not stop. I observed scores of other parents who were all playing the patient game and doing their best not to leave early and let their kid figure out how to get home. We paced around waiting for the next event, sighing because it was going to start a little later than originally scheduled. As events would end, kids would make their way over to where most of us stood and it was funny to watch as parents would acknowledge their child’s success but would do so as they were quickly making their way to the car, like little stone statues, waddling along because their knees and hips were frozen. We were no different. The race ended and before my daughter could wander off with her buddies, we had done a happy dance of sorts and were sensing the warmth of the car.

I would tell you that I don’t mind the wind but that wouldn’t be truthful. Honestly, the cold is just fine by me, I can layer up, but the wind is something special. I’ve been thinking for a while now, that we need to build some sort of a wind break, kind of like a big bug deflector, and place it right along Helmholtz. This doesn’t help my friends in Eagle Crest but this is just my way of telling them I wished they lived closer. I’m thinking the deflector could be really tall, so the wind would stay up until past Prineville, letting them know we care about our friends to the east. Although, this hasn’t been scientifically tested, so it might just wipe out everyone from Powell Butte on. I’m thinking this could work. It would at least be interesting to try.

Obviously this wouldn’t cut out the cold but if the wind were gone, the cold would be much more bearable. And then I wouldn’t have to think my kids were completely nuts, maybe just a little weird. I can’t figure out where they get it from.

Being the change.

When I was a kid, probably grade school age, maybe ten or so, I loved playing outside. Every chance I got was like a little vacation from anything inside and I used to wait, sometimes not so patiently, anticipating the moment I would be released to get out there. It was almost as if I was a prisoner of sorts to the indoors and going out was my freedom. And that freedom was viewed the same whether it was snowing, raining, sunny, windy or anything. My friends and I quite literally lived to be outside.

Looking back, I think the number one reason why playing outside was so epic was the lack of rules, regulations and encumbrances placed upon us by our parents and teachers. We were responsible for making the rules for the games we played at recess or after school in the neighborhood. Nary was there a time when an authority figure came around and told us we were climbing trees all wrong, or that our game of man-hunt needed more players or our basketball games should have had a referee. We figured it out, on our own, every time. Sure, there were moments of intensity when one of us didn’t agree with something and it usually boiled down to some yelling but in the end, we all came back to play the next day.

Most of us can place a dot on the time line of our lives when we stopped living for the sheer joy of playing outside every day. Few people make a living out of playing outdoors and most of those positions still involve some level of responsibility. This is not meant to be a moment to look back in regret, however. It should be a fond moment of recollection where upon we evoke powerful memories, ones filled with laughter and care free smiles. More importantly, this could be your opportunity to assess your current place in life and make a change or two.

I’ve talked about change before on a few levels and have noted the power that change can have when it means more than just some trite slogan. This is not meant to be slanderous but the truth is that very few people change their every day routines without a major shake up. Modifying behavior is serious business but a quick check of the material found in the check out line at the grocery store would suggest that anyone can do it. And while it is true that anyone can do it, statistically very few people actually commit what is necessary to make a noticeable change in their lives.

Look at it this way; we have all committed to some sort of change in our lives at some point. Whether as a New Year’s resolution, or because of a commitment to a loved one or friend, or possibly because of a dare or a bet, we have lots of good reasons to make a change in our lives. For example, when you commit to lose weight, your diet has to change. This means all the food in the refrigerator and freezer has to change too. The way you cook, the way you shop, the places you eat out and so on. How many people do you know who have literally turned their lives upside down for their diet? And yet somehow we expect some miraculous change to come?

And how about when you commit your life to Jesus? Have you read the Bible? It says that when you say yes to Jesus, your old life has to go and you begin a new life. This means that all the old habits have to be thrown out. Things like cussing, lying, cheating, your driving habits (you know who you are) and so on. How many born again Christians do you know who have literally turned their lives upside down for their faith? Is it OK to live as a Christian just on Sunday morning? Are we somehow changed from the inside out just because we say so?

Here’s what I think: change comes at a price. What price are you willing to pay? For a lot of people, change is expensive and it’s not worth the eventual cost, so therefore most people only talk about it, they don’t actually follow through. Seeing change through to fruition requires accountability and cannot be achieved without it and most of us don’t want anyone to see us fail, so we bail out and make up excuses. Personally, I’m tired of excuses. Like the line in the song goes, “I am the king of excuses. I’ve got one for every selfish thing I do.”

Getting out from under the scepter of excuses takes bravery; and a really big shovel. I think it also takes getting outside of our current situation and assessing where we are in the world, where we are in our community and where we are in our family dynamics. We tend to place these restrictions on ourselves because it’s what we’ve become accustomed to. Old habits die hard, it’s true, but it is indeed possible to bury them where they belong. If you’re struggling with an old habit, maybe it’s time to ask someone close to you to hold you accountable to the change you wish to see in yourself.

When we were kids, if there was something we didn’t like we were told to change it, provided we had the power to do so. Usually it was an attitude. Funny how these things come around again.

Questions without answers

I need to vent.

Sometimes all I need is a platform from which to air my thoughts, my frustrations, my anger, my ideas...all the little things that rattle around in my head. This blog has served to fill that for a long time but I don't contribute often enough. As a consequence, I am constantly feeling like I have something on my chest. This weight of words is very heavy at times but ultimately I am the only one responsible for relieving that weight. All it takes is putting pen to paper, or more aptly, fingers to keys, and the weight lifts immediately. I love that about writing.

Currently, there are a few things that need to get out of my head.

First of all, the tragedy in Boston has really chapped my behind. Before diving too far, please know that my heart goes out to the families affected by the loss of 3 people, to the families affected by the injuries to more than 170 people, including life altering injuries like the loss of a limb and to the thousands of runners who were there for nothing more than running a truly epic race. This was indeed a tragedy.

Beyond that, let me say how disgusted I am by the immediate and vehement rhetoric that followed this tragedy. It is difficult for me to fathom how any sensible human being could be so filled with so much hatred, that the first thought that pops into one's mind is to believe this tragedy was caused by a Muslim. Quite literally, there is no proof whatsoever to suggest such an accusation. No group or individual has come forward claiming responsibility for these acts. There are no suspects who have been made public that would suggest these claims. And yet, within mere minutes of the events of Monday the 15th of April, hundreds of very public individuals took to the airwaves to condemn someone or some group without even the faintest piece of proof.

My friends, you should be offended. You should be sickened by the sheer ugliness that has become commonplace. As a society, I would hope and pray that each of us wished for some sort of unity for our country and for our world. This is not to suggest that peace is some big Kumbaya moment, but we each should understand that in order for any sort of unity to have a chance, we have to work together, we all have to accept some level of responsibility. The idea that an eye for an eye only leads to more blindness is a concept that seems to have been lost on a lot of very angry people. The fact that they themselves have already become blind, so to speak, is ironic, but there may be no saving some people.

What probably bothers me most is the fact that there are thousands of people who hear the vitriolic statements and agree with them. I know very sensible people who jumped on the bandwagon and replied to those same hate filled statements with assent. Do you really think that by eradicating one group of people, all the hate will be gone from the world? My dear friends, the hate will live on in your hearts, to be propagated in the future by the next thing you come to hate. Boston is simply the latest in a deluge of tragedies that we learn about on an almost daily basis. I pray it becomes something we can learn from, not something that pushes us further away from each other.

Another thing on my mind lately are marriages. I have been burdened, in a good way, by the deterioration of marriages and families and relationships. My heart aches when I hear of another family that is being torn apart by a plethora of factors. This burden really has nothing to do with gay marriage or which kind of family dynamic is struggling, I may tackle that later, but instead I grieve every time I hear about another couple that chooses to walk away. I have been so blessed by an amazing wife and the two of us have built a fantastic life together. Recently we watched a video that prompted us to discover that we are equally burdened by the same thing. That epiphany is leading us to look into how we can help.

Ultimately, I am convinced that people simply do not talk to each other enough. The lack of good communication is what is tearing this world apart and it's happening one family at a time. Couples come together because of a mutual attraction. But when that fades, a lot of times there is nothing of substance to sustain a relationship. It's almost as if couples need to be taught how to talk, how to effectively communicate what is on the inside, in order to grow and learn to love the person right next to you. I read something recently that suggested true love is simply a fairy tale. The idea is that real love takes a tremendous amount of work and that every relationship has the potential to stand the test of time if both people are willing to work at it. It's an interesting theory, and while it fails to address the issue of compatibility, it does correctly note that every relationship requires a great amount of work from both sides.

Lastly, I am about to make a rather serious change in my life and have been writing lately on the subject of change. I will make a point to post some of those writings to this blog very soon. In the mean time, I am grappling with some unnerving thoughts relating to managing this upcoming change. There is the issue of relating this major change to the world, so to speak. It is a good thing for me and naturally I want to shout it out but there are a lot of affected parties. I have kept it a secret until now and plan to continue to do so until everyone that needs to know has been told, but it has been hard not to blurt it out. I think the one thing that digs at me most is knowing that every time we make a change in life, the impact is felt far beyond what we can immediately see. I have written about the ripple effect before and this time is no different. Being sensitive to who these changes will impact is important to me and so I travel this road lightly for now so my ripple will hopefully be navigable by all.

Soon enough, a few thousand people will know and will be affected by this upcoming news. My immediate prayer is for knowing the right words to say and the right steps to take so as to be as honorable as possible in this time of change. For those who read this, stay tuned, that news is coming soon.

As I reread this tonight, I am seeing a very common theme in all of this and it is the word communication. It seems to me that much good could be had if we would simply be willing to talk to each more from an insightful perspective, and not an incite-ful one. I guarantee we have would wind up with more answers than questions.

The why

Writing is my escape.

I’ve been writing for over twenty-five years now and it has never occurred to me that I might need to explain my need and/or desire to write.

I was on Twitter this morning and there are several fellow writers that I follow, including one guy who dove into detail about why he writes. He’s been writing since May and is considered an avid blogger. As he poured it out on the page, his reasoning was sound and his methodology was solid. This is a guy who writes because it truly makes him happy, but even more than that, it is quite literally who he is.

So I sat there, sipping my coffee, considering for a moment why I write. I started thinking about the years I have spent putting my thoughts down. For a long time, I kept those words very private and then slowly I started sharing my thoughts.

That release of words from my brain onto paper was nothing short of miraculous for me. It kept me sane when all I really wanted to do was scream. For the last several years I have posted most of my writings online, with the idea that maybe others could relate or possibly benefit from anything my rambling heart might say.

To some degree, writing is visceral. Instinctually I will grab a pen and paper and write based on something I heard or read. I do it because I feel it’s the right response to the questions and statements in my head. Sometimes all I really need is an opportunity to let those words get out of my brain and onto paper.

What’s always fascinated me is, once I get the words out they become more alive, like they could give life or take it away depending on who was reading them. Words are like that, in so much as they have the ability to create or destroy. We build up or tear down with our words and it makes no difference whether those words are spoken or written, they can have the same impact. Once I get them out of my head and onto paper I reveal their intent. This fact has helped me shape a lot of my most current works because I have become much more reflective of what I have to say.

Not once have I given any serious thought to a book, though. It seems I have enough content built up of a few choice topics that would allow me to consider such a venture, but I’m not sure I was built for such scrutiny. Once I post something online, I can advertise it’s there if I think the post was good, or I can leave it for others to find, knowing in my own sheepish way that the article may be offensive to some, or that it may be too specific for a broad range or readers.

It’s odd how writing can be so freeing at one moment, then create a certain amount of anxiety the next. It’s like my right hand has the pen but my left is chained to the desk. Regardless, I pray that when you read this you can envision the colloquial nature with which it was intended, knowing that I could very well have just told you all of this. At the end of the day, I am thankful for the chance, however, to share what’s been on my mind. It is truly, my escape.

Blog away

Blogging is many things to many people and over the years, it has become an exceptional tool aside from what it means specifically to each writer. As a writer, I have enjoyed blogging for many of those many reasons, including the opportunity to clear my head some days. Posting to my blog can be very refreshing, like finishing something productive and looking back on your work knowing the task is done and you won't have to do that again. So much of my motivation for writing over the years has been to get my thoughts onto paper, just to free up hard disk space in my brain, allowing me to think freely about other important, or inane, topics.

Lately I have found that I am writing less, taking notes less, journaling not at all and therefore not getting thoughts out of my head. This has created an issue, not unlike packing 40,000 people into a 30,000 seat stadium and expecting to pack in another 20,000. I attribute this latest writing block to the busy-ness of life, but ultimately it is just an excuse. It's certainly not for lack of desire, or for lack of content with which to write about. I have 2 kids after all and my blog could write itself with just the drama of a middle school girl. But what I need most is simply to sit and write. I know it's therapeutic and I understand the stress relief that accompanies writing, but those are not motivating factors. I have also written from the perspective of being angry and using my blog as a platform to vent my frustrations, which is in itself a form of stress relief but again, even with all that is going on in the world, even with the plethora of things to write about, I still lack the motivation to sit down on a regular basis.

So much has changed in the last several years and just the other day it caused me to pause and reflect. Ten years ago I was truly a different individual. I was married and was about to be a dad but I lacked any real maturity that age and experience brings. This last ten years has seen such monumental change that I'm not sure I could have predicted where I would be or what I am considering as I look just 5 years into the future.

When people talk about the formative years of a child they refer to a time when there is major growth in areas of physical, mental and emotional states. But not much is said regarding the formative years of an adult mind. The reason for that to me seems simple because as we grow we mature and as we age we hopefully become wise with time and experience. But the transition into adulthood seems to happen at age 18 and then magically we become adults. This is simply not true. Most 18 year-olds I know are hardly prepared to live on their own nor do they comprehend the world as a whole beyond their own street. I know there are exceptions but this is the rule. Most men and women spend 10-15 years transitioning into adulthood after they turn 18, which means that the formative years for an adult are between 18 and 33.

Instead of conquering that fact, we as a society expect our 18 year-olds to do things they are truly not ready for, like live on their own, fight for our country, become parents, manage the stresses of a job, pay bills and so on. I personally find it appalling that we as a society expect so much but help to prepare so little. Home Economics classes in high school are wonderful but they are merely a drop in a very large bucket. If every one of us had the opportunity to move away from home and attend college following high school, we might have learned independence, self government, discipline and many other traits necessary for life in this world. But sadly, the cost of higher education has kept many kids from having an experience like that.

As I reflect on my life during that time it was a tremendous opportunity for growth that I failed to grasp and manage. Looking back, those formative years of my adult life were laced with a rebellion of sorts. I didn't want to grow up but I wanted all the responsibility and respect I thought I deserved. My body may have graduated high school at 17 but my brain put the transmission in park for a few years. Only now do I feel as if I have come some sort of distance, able to track maturity as if on a graph, comprehending what it means to be an adult. It's not to say that up until now I wasn't an adult, but I certainly have struggled with moving past some sophomoric perspective in my mind.

I love to write. I love that I can come here and free these thoughts onto this space and then walk away. I can return anytime and revisit these thoughts and even add to them if I choose. Part of these past 10 years has been the ability to reflect on what is necessary for rational thought on a daily basis. Much of my faith has been grounded in the idea that I sit here and rationally believe that Jesus is my savior. I don't question that. But 10 years ago I had no idea what that meant. Age has made a difference, as has experience, but nothing can replace the simple truth that the brain needs to proceed through formative times of learning and I have certainly enjoyed that last 10 years more than any other time in my life.