Hide and Seek

"All my adult life, I've hidden in my work. Not behind it, but deep inside it..." Rheta Grimsley Johnson

Like most men I learned to work for a living instead of learning how to live while working. I learned to work as we say here in the South, "from kin to can't". Well I can't anymore. Well that's not entirely true--I could--but at this point in my life choose not too. Don't get me wrong. I will always work. I believe retirement was invented to give the factory worker time off their feet and their brain a rest from the repetitiveness that assembly lines demanded.

But the kind of work I will do has got to be more like the way it started. For example-- I ran a counseling group because I enjoyed it. But by the time I stopped I was running four or five a week and dreading all those after the first two.

Like the author in the quote above I see now that I was playing hide and seek. I hid from large parts of myself and sought parts that others had kept hidden from themselves because that was my job. Now my number one job is to heal, love, be loved, and come out, come out, wherever I am and work on myself while working for love.

Question: Are you working the life right out of yourself or loving your work?

Wrestling Mortality

Mr. Mortality challenged me to a fight 12 weeks ago last night. He almost won. A strong wife, a good heart surgeon, and lots and lots of prayers beat the fellow back into his corner but he left, I hope, a lasting impression regarding wasting time.

Six months ago I felt like I had lots and lots of time as T.S. Elliot says in the poem The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock, "...time for decisions and a hundred revisions..." or something to that effect. I thought if we lived in our small cottage in Mentone for four or five more years we would still have plenty of time to live elsewhere--you know where there are lots of book stores and great restaurants.

Years ago I used to have some of my clients and workshop participants do this exercise where I would say, "Imagine you only have 10 years to live. Where would you go? What would you do? Who would you take with you? What are you waiting on?

Mr. Mortality is not whispering this question in my ears. He is practically yelling it?

Questions: Where would you go? What would you do? Who would you take with you? What are you waiting on?

To Be There or Not To Be There

During my period of recovery from my by-pass surgery I saw something that shocked me, disturbed me and enlightened me a little about being there and not being there for friends and family.

There were people I had known for two or more decades that I thought would have gotten in a car or a plane without hesitation--to come to our home in Mentone and cook meals, hold my hand and soothe my soul--that didn't come. Some didn't even call or email. Then there were people that I'd known maybe less than a year or three who not only called, they came, they cooked, and they touched my soul deeply.

During this time my own behavior or lack of was mirrored back to me. I thought about all the people that had serious operations, major losses and transitions and I had not been there for them. These friends of over 2 to 4 decades, family members I'd loved and who loved me had to negotiate these pains and problems while I was "too" busy being on the road and available for people I barely knew. After all it was my job, what I did, but I wish now with all my heart that I had been more balanced in my being there and not being there.

How are you doing with regards to being there for those who really matter?