Reinvention

​Once in a while I actually read the AARP magazine that comes to our house. There’s always an article about reinventing yourself after a certain age. Like who you’ve been for the past 50+ years just isn’t working. Like no one is buying your model any more, because they can’t find parts.

Maybe you just need a new hair style or maybe you could go back to college so the younger students can tell you how smart you are, which is hilarious because if you’ve lived this long you’re gonna seem smarter anyway – especially to college students who’ve just left home for the first time.

It’s always possible to start fresh. I’m not saying to start completely over. That’s not possible. You can’t be reborn. You can’t change the crazy things that have happened to you. But you can reevaluate where you are and go a different direction any time you choose.

Maybe you don’t need a big change. Maybe just something subtle. Something other people might not even notice. Maybe you just change up your morning routine or drive to work a different way for a few weeks. Maybe you start paying attention to the mint dates on your pocket change or eat something off the menu you normally wouldn’t.

Little changes like that could change your perspective or make you stop and think. It doesn’t hurt to give yourself a jolt every once in a while. Knock yourself out of your usual routine. Afterall, what’s the worst thing that could happen? It’s not like you’ve lost anything and who knows, it might even change your life.

John Cotton

His name is John Cotton.

Friday morning I went to Bagel Dock in Calabash to pick us up breakfast. It wasn’t busy so I figured the wait since the three toasted bagels with cream cheese I ordered wouldn’t take long.

I took a seat on a bench next to a younger woman. We exchanged some small talk. Her order came and she left.

Then I noticed another person who had been in line behind me got his order and left. Hmm.

Then a young man in his mid-twenties came over and asked if he could sit down next to me.

“Sure,” I said and motioned to the bench.

He sat, leaned over, and said, “They have the best bagels here.”

“I totally agree! Now I just need to find a place that has decent pizza!” I laughed. “Are you vacationing?”

“No, I’m originally from Philadelphia. I’m down here living with my parents while I wait for a heart transplant. I was born with a congenital heart defect,” he said.

He was a small framed guy with light brown hair and a kind face. His curly beard sprung out like little copper wires from his face. He could have passed for younger version of Santa Claus.

I noticed another person who had come in after me who got their order and left. Hmm.

“I’m concerned about my health insurance. I’m on my Dad’s right now and if things change with the ACA I’ll have a pre-existing condition and I’ll be screwed,” he said.

“I know,” I said. “I’m on ACA right now. Who knows what’s going to happen.”

“I don’t usually talk politics, but I really miss Bernie,” he said.

That made me laugh, I liked Bernie too, and we proceeded to talk politics. We discussed single payer healthcare, the chances of expanding Medicaid, the mess in Washington DC, and disbelief that anyone could support Trump. Needless to say, we had an immediate connection.

“My Dad recently showed me a bill he’d saved from one of my surgeries. It was two million dollars! Two million dollars because we have a capitalistic healthcare system,” he said. “We’re the greatest country in the world and we can’t figure this out.”

“I know,” I said. “It’s ridiculous.”

Then his order came and as he stood up to leave he reached to shake my hand. “Enjoyed talking with you,” he said.

“Me too. What’s your name?” I asked.

“John Cotton,” he said.

“Well, John Cotton,” I said. “I’ll be praying about your heart transplant.”

“Thank you so much,” he said.

That’s when the owner’s wife looked over at me and said, “What are you still doing here? Where the heck is your order?!”

I shrugged my shoulders.

“I’ll get on that right away!” she said and scampered off.

“No problem,” I said to myself. I knew but for that I never would have met John Cotton. And you know what? I’m glad I did.

The Fabric of Life

We are part of one continual piece of fabric unrolling from the bolt of life. It is at once an intricate tapestry and at another the sailcloth of dreams. It can be soft as silk one day and harsh as homespun the next. It can be as airy as linen or as heavy as sack cloth. It’s a magical changing fabric where the only constant is the warp and weft of daily life. The threaded fiber that connects us all.

We stitch together our lives as best we can. We cut life on the bias with the greatest care, we leave allowance for the seams, interweave our closest friends and family, and reinforce areas of greatest wear and tear. Whether by the inch, or foot, or yard we make our way. We run our stitch and carefully bind the edges so as not to fray. Because in the end the garment we are making is who we truy are.

Thoughts on Faith

There is an old story about a Protestant minister who died and went to heaven. St. Peter met him at the Pearly Gates and as they walked down the streets of gold the minister noticed a group of people way off in the distance. “Who are those people?” he asked. St. Peter said, “Shhhh, those are Catholics. They think they’re the only ones here.” Later they saw another group off in the distance and the minister again asked, “Who are those people?” and St. Peter said, “Shhhh, those are Muslims. They think they’re the only ones here.”

Clearly we do not know what we do not know, but we should understand one thing – there are many different religions and many different kinds of adherents to thoses religions. If there was only one true faith you could safely assume there would only be need for one. If anything it heartens me to realize that there are many paths, and many ways, and many seekers. It tells me that God, regardless of how we understand Him/Her, reaches out to us individually not based on organized and qualified groupthink, but on what answers to our own individual and unique spiritual condition.

I grew up in a Christian family going to a Christain church, attending Sunday School, graduating from a Christian college, and reading the Bible as God’s Word. These were the tools that were given me to help me understand the world and be a better person. They have stood the test of time not by way of indoctrination, but through my own personal experience and relationship with the God of my understanding. And yet I refuse to condemn or criticize those who don’t believe as I do. I don’t consider them “lost”. I consider them fellow travelers who are seeking spirituality the same way I am – the best way they know how.

I know there will be those who will disagree with my comments, and that is a good thing. I rely on the different thoughts and beliefs of my family and friends. They force me to consider and reconsider the things I think and believe, which in turn makes me a more thoughtful and understanding person. Over time I have come to see that kindness and respect is more than just “The Golden Rule”. It is the holiest way to live and the way I continue to shape my life everyday.

Someday, my friend, when we cross over it will all be made clear. We will know the truth and it will truly and totally set us free. In the meantime I say with the most heart felt love and respect: Namaste, Shalom, As-salamu Alaykum, and God bless.

Your Idealized Self

It’s hard not to compare yourself to other people both personally and professionally. If you’re a living breathing person you probably do it. I’m not ashamed to tell you I do it myself. But I think it’s important to take a look at exactly what is going on when we do this.

First thing to understand is our perception of someone is simply what we imagine to be real. It lacks all that messy getting to know the down and dirty of another person’s life – what they worry about, what they fear, what they don’t care about, what they love, and what they do when no one is watching. We don’t have the luxury of actually being someone else. We can only imagine what it’s like.

Idealism is a uniquely human trait. We apply it not only to our hopes and dreams, but vicariously through comparison. When we idealize another person we fabricate a third entity. That person is neither real nor unreal, but actually something in between. Such comparisons can be self-defeating. They feed into our negative self image. That voice in our head that continually tells us we’re screwed up.

Secondly, it’s important to note that one persons perception might be totally different than anothers. This is because our assessments are based not on finite knowledge, but on our own experience, points of view, and preferences. Those things are uniquely ours and cannot be shared.

So what to do? When we compare ourselves to others what we are really looking for is a yardstick by which to measure if we’re okay. Do we measure up? Are we on the right track? Where are we on the spectrum of decency and intelligence? What are our shortcomings?

When I was in college I worked at a camp during the summer. My first year I had a young camper in my cabin who’s parents were going through a divorce. They had sent her to camp in hopes of distracting her and to avoid the messiness of it all. But she knew. You could tell it. Overtime we developed a bond. Even after camp we keep in touch for quiet a while.

It was twenty years later that I accidentally ran into her again. And although I’ve shared this complete story before* for the sake of this essay let’s just cut to the part that applies. She showed me a picture she had been carrying in her wallet those past twenty years of the both of us, arms locked around each other, with our baseball caps screwed on.

She told me that whenever she had a difficult situation or decision to make she would ask herself, “What would Kris do?”

I shot back, “You don’t want to know! I haven’t made some very good decisions since then.”

That’s when she said, “Oh, it really wasn’t about that. It was about having an ideal. Something to look up to and shoot for.”

This, my friends, is where we need to be when it comes to our comparisons. We need to realize the attributes we formulate and idealize in others are the very things we already have within us. We just need to live up to them. To be our best selves.

I’m not saying expect perfection, but know your ideal self. Know who that person is and what they can be. Be fearless in your assessment, but fair in your judgment. We’re works in progress until the last bell rings. In the meantime gather those fine qualities you see in others, apply them to your life, and realize those qualities are already in you.

* https://krishillenburg.wordpress.com/2016/06/03/on-my-mind/

Waiting

The single most important skill you can develop as an adult is waiting. As human beings we do more waiting than anything else. Learning to wait in a calm centered manner provides a place to exist where we are not dragged into events and circumstances that we cannot control.

I learned this in Quaker Meeting for Worship where, during an unprogrammed meeting, all participants wait expectantly for leadings from the God of our personal understanding. We wait for things that will give guidance to our souls. Things that speak to our collective and individual conditions.

I have never yet left one these meetings where I was not enriched by what was either shared or not shared. And although verbal ministry is a blessing, silence can be the greatest healer of all. Amid this congregational waiting, this silence, this holy expectation, is an opening created for “that still small voice”. The urgings of the One we seek even as we are sought.

Life is full of frustrating stops and starts. Learning to wait allows us to manage the traffic in our heads. To avoid the gridlock of misdirected anger over things we never had any control over in the first place. If we let it impatience can turn into a flood that carries everything away.

Learning to wait puts us in a space where we can find calmness amid life’s unwieldly circumstances. It can raise our level of conscious kindness and patience so that we can share those with our fellow travelers. That awareness and how it guides our lives ends up being a safe habor for us all.

Synchronicity

​Did you ever experience synchronicity? You know, that sense that things that are happening have a rhyme and reason? With everything going on in this world it’s hard to believe one thing could magically relate to another. That somehow things connect in unexplainable ways. Scientist will tell you there us no such thing as synchronicity, but your experience says differently. It can’t be quantified or studied. There’s no set method or formula to make it occur. It’s difficult to study or prove something like that one way or another.

And yet there have been times I needed a sign – assurance that I was going in the right direction or needed guidance for my next move. I throw it out to the universe to see what happens and, what do you know, I actually get a sign! Something arrives in the mail, a friend I haven’t spoken to in years calls, I finally find that thing I lost 6 months ago, a feather drops out of nowhere onto my path, or a penny shows up someplace odd with a date on it that relates to an event that’s very important to me. I shake my head and wonder how much there is in the universe that we simply don’t understand.

Some people will tell you this sort of thing happens all the time. That you can actually train yourself to experience synchronicity more often by being open to it and looking for those connections, and that may be true. It’s easier to see connectedness when you’re intently looking for it. When you start expecting it and not just thinking it’s some occasional event outside of your normal experience.

To be honest I still sometimes struggle with the idea that there’s Someone or Something out there that cares about where my life is going and what I do on a daily basis. Of course, I live my life like there is – better safe than sorry, but I’ve had things happen that can’t be explained. Mystical and otherworldly things. Things I just can’t shake off as accidental. When they do happen it’s hard to deny that there’s a Hand in it in some way.

But maybe that’s why it’s so amazing! That we really can’t know for certain. There’s a part of life that can’t be explained or totally known. We simply have to take it on faith and trust our experience. Trust our inner knowing. The reason we see it, experience it, and recognize it is we aren’t just physical beings we’re spiritual beings too. We just happen to be living in this physical world right now so maybe, who knows, when we get to the other side perhaps it’ll all make sense.

In the meantime . . . I think I’ll just go with that explanation.

It’s Business

​Why are we so surprised? It only makes sense that when you elect a business person as President businesses will end up running the country, what passes for diplomacy will come to resemble a take over, workers will be estranged from policy and representation, healthcare will be modified so that insurance companies reap the benefits and not those who are supposed to have coverage, natural resources will be unprotected and sold as commodities, educational success will be judged by profit margins and not the knowledge of the students, and those with influence money and position will be protected from paying their fair share. It’s just the nature of the beast.

Spraker Road

​This past week I saw some of the most beautiful country on my drive to Indiana for the family reunion, and although Indiana is my home state I’m in love with so many others.

On my way up I stopped in Wytheville, Virginia. After getting my cabin squared away at the local KOA I was off to find the original Hillenburg homestead. It was a bit of a drive to Spraker Road in Crockett, but the hillside views were beautiful and the vistas were stunning. It reminded me so much of Vermont.

As the farm slowly came into view I felt my heart clench in my chest and tears began to well in my eyes. It was as if I knew this place. Knew it from deep within my ancestrial DNA. I could feel the roots of my family tree running underground towards me.

Johann Daniel Hilgenberg was born September 10, 1752 at Rohrenfurth, Hessen-Cassel, Germany. He joined the Hessian Army at the age of 24 and was sent to America to fight with the British during the Revolutionary War.

He fought in New York and New Jersey and was captured by Washington’s Troops at Trenton. He was held as a POW for one year before being swapped in a prisoner exchange, but on April 24, 1779 (after the Battle of Savannah) he deserted the British Army, crossed the Zitterauer’s Bridge near Purysburg, South Carolina and made his way through North Carolina to Wythe County Virginia where he eventually married, settled down, and had children.

Daniel, as he came to be known, was a Weaver by trade. He died sometime in 1819 at the age of 67. It’s said he was buried on his farm on Spraker Road. The very farm where I was now standing like a distant time traveler.

Sometimes we connect ourselves to people, sometimes we connect ourselves to things, and sometimes we connect ourselves to places – places we’ve never been and perhaps we’ll never go. But sometimes we do go. Sometimes those ancestral roots make a place more real than they otherwise might seem. But I can tell you now, with great confidence, the power of such connections should never be underestimated.