Got Anger? Try The Anger Solution Blog by John Lee
If you or someone you love, care about, work with or work for has problems with anger, this informative blog is going to help and positively impact all your relationships. It is going to do so by changing how you think and feel about anger by using down-to-earth, common sense and tried and true methods.
Now you can take the tools I've been practicing and presenting for twenty-five years in the field of Anger Management and use them in your own life. I've condensed material from my 3 anger books and added insights gained from teaching, providing workshops and counseling and coaching (individuals, couples and families) into short, easy to read daily messages.
GENERAL INFO--Anger is a fact of life that affects everyone; some more than others. We all have been angry or been around those who are angry and most of us have thought that the world would be better off without this emotion. But here’s the real truth: anger is not your enemy. In fact, it can be your ally; one that can save your relationship, your job and your peace of mind.
This blog will be divided into lessons, the first is about expressing anger appropriately, which is the only way to heal relationships and create greater closeness and intimacy.
For more information go http://theangersolutionbyjohnlee.blogspot.com/
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Sunday, August 8, 2010
Monday, June 28, 2010
What Did You Come Here For?
"Now that it's all over, what did you really do yesterday that was worth mentioning?" Coleman Cox
What did I do yesterday? I can't hardly remember what I had for breakfast yesterday, certainly not the day before. The older I get the more I experience "Mental Pause". I go into a room to get something and by the time I'm there I've forgotten what I came for. What did I come here do in the first place? Why did I occupy this particular body at this particular southern location?
Oh year! I remember now! I came here to learn how to love and be loved, how to forgive and be forgiven, how to be patient and extend patience, to help and be helped, to ask questions and become answers for those few who need me to be even if for just a moment.
Question: What did you come here to do this lifetime?
What did I do yesterday? I can't hardly remember what I had for breakfast yesterday, certainly not the day before. The older I get the more I experience "Mental Pause". I go into a room to get something and by the time I'm there I've forgotten what I came for. What did I come here do in the first place? Why did I occupy this particular body at this particular southern location?
Oh year! I remember now! I came here to learn how to love and be loved, how to forgive and be forgiven, how to be patient and extend patience, to help and be helped, to ask questions and become answers for those few who need me to be even if for just a moment.
Question: What did you come here to do this lifetime?
Sunday, June 27, 2010
Third String
"It's the hardest thing in the world to accept a little success and leave it that way." Marlon Brando
I'm pretty sure that it was "a little success" that could not be embraced or left alone that drove my heart to attack itself as much or perhaps more than it was my genetic propensity. I've said in other places that I always wanted more and success was right up there on the top of that unattainable list.
I was never satisfied with what little I'd achieved. The truth is, I was a for a short while, a second string writer, therapist and teacher and after a few years was finally moved down to third string. The push for first string is the problem, the striving to move from third or second, the unrelenting drive to climb the ladder of success gets so all consuming that is until the ladder falls down on you and need a cardiac surgeon to lift it off.
Today I am content for the first time to be where I am, be who I am, contribute what I can, look back on what I've done and say, "you know it was and is enough" and third string is not bad. At least I'm still in the game and who knows the First String and Second String my give out at any time and then the Coach of coaches may put me back in, but if HE/SHE makes that call I will not wear my heart out in the last quarter of the game.
Question: Are you able to accept where you are or are you still pushing, struggling, driving yourself a little crazy?
I'm pretty sure that it was "a little success" that could not be embraced or left alone that drove my heart to attack itself as much or perhaps more than it was my genetic propensity. I've said in other places that I always wanted more and success was right up there on the top of that unattainable list.
I was never satisfied with what little I'd achieved. The truth is, I was a for a short while, a second string writer, therapist and teacher and after a few years was finally moved down to third string. The push for first string is the problem, the striving to move from third or second, the unrelenting drive to climb the ladder of success gets so all consuming that is until the ladder falls down on you and need a cardiac surgeon to lift it off.
Today I am content for the first time to be where I am, be who I am, contribute what I can, look back on what I've done and say, "you know it was and is enough" and third string is not bad. At least I'm still in the game and who knows the First String and Second String my give out at any time and then the Coach of coaches may put me back in, but if HE/SHE makes that call I will not wear my heart out in the last quarter of the game.
Question: Are you able to accept where you are or are you still pushing, struggling, driving yourself a little crazy?
Saturday, June 26, 2010
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?
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?
Friday, June 25, 2010
Passionate
"Man is only truly great when he acts from the passions." Benjamin Disraeli
A million years ago when I began my career I did so from a place of passion. Money, prestige, fame, or even pats on the back were not motivators. Joy, seeing people be moved to tears or laughter, a feeling of satisfaction that only comes from doing what you love was what got my juices flowing. I was energized by putting work clothes on my youthful dreams of teaching and writing.
Somewhere along the line passion declined, profit proliferated, energy waned, joy subsided, and in the end, not only were the juices not flowing, but obviously neither was the life blood to my heart. I had clogged arteries, clogged priorities, and a partly cloudy brain with constant thunderstorms that would rain down on my soul and drown out the still small voice that said, "Stop, rest, retreat, re-group and reconnect with your heart's desires to help people again and forget about how much or how little they can pay.
Today is the only day I have for sure (and not even the rest of the day is a given) so I will re-vision and renew my commitment to doing what I truly love.
Question: What were you once passionate about that is still calling you in your dreams?
A million years ago when I began my career I did so from a place of passion. Money, prestige, fame, or even pats on the back were not motivators. Joy, seeing people be moved to tears or laughter, a feeling of satisfaction that only comes from doing what you love was what got my juices flowing. I was energized by putting work clothes on my youthful dreams of teaching and writing.
Somewhere along the line passion declined, profit proliferated, energy waned, joy subsided, and in the end, not only were the juices not flowing, but obviously neither was the life blood to my heart. I had clogged arteries, clogged priorities, and a partly cloudy brain with constant thunderstorms that would rain down on my soul and drown out the still small voice that said, "Stop, rest, retreat, re-group and reconnect with your heart's desires to help people again and forget about how much or how little they can pay.
Today is the only day I have for sure (and not even the rest of the day is a given) so I will re-vision and renew my commitment to doing what I truly love.
Question: What were you once passionate about that is still calling you in your dreams?
Wednesday, June 23, 2010
Less Really Is More
"Unhappiness is best defined as the difference between our talents and our expectations." Edward De Bono
Before my heart attack I thought I really should do more, be more, say more, think more, feel more--more, more, more. It was like whatever I did was never quite enough. Doing less didn't seem to be an option at the time.
Now I do less and less and enjoy what little I actually do more and more.When people would say, "less is more," it never really made sense but it finally does now, not just intellectually, but emotionally and even spiritually.
The "still,small inner voice" is becoming more important than ever and by doing less it is even getting louder, more audible, and clearer. To grow spiritually which is more important than ever, I have come to realize that by doing less work, less talking, less traveling I get to focus on just being loving to my wife, friends, family, my God and most of all myself.
Question:Are you allowing yourself enough quiet and stillness?
Before my heart attack I thought I really should do more, be more, say more, think more, feel more--more, more, more. It was like whatever I did was never quite enough. Doing less didn't seem to be an option at the time.
Now I do less and less and enjoy what little I actually do more and more.When people would say, "less is more," it never really made sense but it finally does now, not just intellectually, but emotionally and even spiritually.
The "still,small inner voice" is becoming more important than ever and by doing less it is even getting louder, more audible, and clearer. To grow spiritually which is more important than ever, I have come to realize that by doing less work, less talking, less traveling I get to focus on just being loving to my wife, friends, family, my God and most of all myself.
Question:Are you allowing yourself enough quiet and stillness?
Tuesday, June 22, 2010
Priorities-Again
"For my thoughts are not your thoughts. Neither are your ways my ways..." Isaiah
I never in a million years would have thought that what I needed was a heart attack to motivate me to get my priorities straight. Indeed to a large degree I thought I had them straight. Well if not straight at least not that crooked. But "the crooked shall be made straight," I think Jesus said that and if he didn't I'm going to guess he thought it. Anyway that is what it took--lying flat on my back.
You see four months later as I sit here writing I know in my heart that had I died this time last year many would have said, "he worked hard," "he wrote a lot of books," and maybe they would say "he even helped a few." Now I realize that if people don't say after that Fat Lady has sung her last song, "In the end, he worked hardest at love," then I will have missed the mark again.
Question: What will they say about you?
I never in a million years would have thought that what I needed was a heart attack to motivate me to get my priorities straight. Indeed to a large degree I thought I had them straight. Well if not straight at least not that crooked. But "the crooked shall be made straight," I think Jesus said that and if he didn't I'm going to guess he thought it. Anyway that is what it took--lying flat on my back.
You see four months later as I sit here writing I know in my heart that had I died this time last year many would have said, "he worked hard," "he wrote a lot of books," and maybe they would say "he even helped a few." Now I realize that if people don't say after that Fat Lady has sung her last song, "In the end, he worked hardest at love," then I will have missed the mark again.
Question: What will they say about you?
Monday, June 21, 2010
Purrrrrfect Prescription
"Creation is a drug I can't do without." Cecil B.DeMille
I never thought I would be on such good speaking terms with a pharmacist. Since my heart attack I am taking things with names I can't even pronounce. But the real prescription that I am following religiously is really keeping my ticker ticking:
1. Every day tell wife how much I love her.
2. Let my two Giant Malamutes take me for a walk every day.
3. Pet white cat once a day and listen to her purrrrrrrr.
4. Every third day try to make friends with Black Cat who growls like a dog at me.
5. Try to not watch much bad television especially news programs.
6. Live by my "inner clock" and worry less about deadlines--pun intended.
7.Remember to thank God for every day that I am on this side of the green summer grass.
Question: Do you need your "Life Prescription" refilled?
I never thought I would be on such good speaking terms with a pharmacist. Since my heart attack I am taking things with names I can't even pronounce. But the real prescription that I am following religiously is really keeping my ticker ticking:
1. Every day tell wife how much I love her.
2. Let my two Giant Malamutes take me for a walk every day.
3. Pet white cat once a day and listen to her purrrrrrrr.
4. Every third day try to make friends with Black Cat who growls like a dog at me.
5. Try to not watch much bad television especially news programs.
6. Live by my "inner clock" and worry less about deadlines--pun intended.
7.Remember to thank God for every day that I am on this side of the green summer grass.
Question: Do you need your "Life Prescription" refilled?
Time Off
"Happiness may well consist primarily of an attitude toward time." Robert Grudin
I took some time off last week from writing this blog. I had to reassess my usage of "time." For several weeks after my heart attack and surgery I thought I was running out of time so I began running through lots of things. I ran through my memory searching for people I needed to reconnect with. I ran through my dreams making sure every morning I was remembering as many as possible looking for clues and messages that would add meaning to my life and help me understand where I was, who I am and what I wanted to do next in life. I ran through books like a marathon man getting through each page as fast as possible.
I was in such a hurry, just like pre-heart attack days, but only this time I was more internally than externally directed as if somehow this made my rapid pace justified. I decided to slow down, take some deep breaths and hope and trust that what needed doing would get done, who needed to be connected with would be. A new attitude towards time.
Question: Do you know what time it is for your deepest self?
I took some time off last week from writing this blog. I had to reassess my usage of "time." For several weeks after my heart attack and surgery I thought I was running out of time so I began running through lots of things. I ran through my memory searching for people I needed to reconnect with. I ran through my dreams making sure every morning I was remembering as many as possible looking for clues and messages that would add meaning to my life and help me understand where I was, who I am and what I wanted to do next in life. I ran through books like a marathon man getting through each page as fast as possible.
I was in such a hurry, just like pre-heart attack days, but only this time I was more internally than externally directed as if somehow this made my rapid pace justified. I decided to slow down, take some deep breaths and hope and trust that what needed doing would get done, who needed to be connected with would be. A new attitude towards time.
Question: Do you know what time it is for your deepest self?
Saturday, June 12, 2010
An Interior Kind of Wandering
“The real voyage of discovery consists not in seeking new landscapes, but in having new eyes.” —Marcel Proust
The grass isn’t greener on the other side of the valley. It’s just different, full of mystery. Here is where I stand and there is much uncharted territory right under my feet. I could go elsewhere if I like, but I'm certain to find the same unfinished business.
Still, sometimes I have to jump the fence that surrounds me. When I need to break free from an old perspective, roaming awhile like I did yesterday can do a lot of good.
The older I get the more I see that the most fruitful journey isn’t an exterior kind of wandering. It’s exploring my interior landscape. A silent walk, a weekend retreat, a timeout from relationship and responsibility allows me to discover new ground inside myself.
On this journey I know I need time to see things anew, to contemplate the challenges before me. I may need to grieve deeply to renew my search or sing, laugh or forgive. This is not a blind quest, but a kind of roaming that clears the eye, empowering me to see the truth right here, right now.
Question: Is it time to wander inside?
The grass isn’t greener on the other side of the valley. It’s just different, full of mystery. Here is where I stand and there is much uncharted territory right under my feet. I could go elsewhere if I like, but I'm certain to find the same unfinished business.
Still, sometimes I have to jump the fence that surrounds me. When I need to break free from an old perspective, roaming awhile like I did yesterday can do a lot of good.
The older I get the more I see that the most fruitful journey isn’t an exterior kind of wandering. It’s exploring my interior landscape. A silent walk, a weekend retreat, a timeout from relationship and responsibility allows me to discover new ground inside myself.
On this journey I know I need time to see things anew, to contemplate the challenges before me. I may need to grieve deeply to renew my search or sing, laugh or forgive. This is not a blind quest, but a kind of roaming that clears the eye, empowering me to see the truth right here, right now.
Question: Is it time to wander inside?
Friday, June 11, 2010
Taking A New Road
"Everything in life is somewhere else, and you get there in a car." ~E.B. White
Today, like many days when I have nothing really pressing to do I drive down quiet, unfamiliar country roads just to see where they go. I am never disappointed because I don't drive with any expectations. I just go to see what I can see and where I'll end up. Sometimes I drive for thirty minutes to an hour and get totally lost only to eventually come upon something that tells me where I really am.
Now that I have survived a heart attack I don't really know where I am because I'm heading down another kind of road--one that I have never been down before. I don't know where I'm going but I have a clearer idea of who will be my traveling companions than I ever did in my youth. Back then it seemed I was always picking up temporary relationship hitch-hikers that very often wanted out sooner than I or I would rue the day I picked them up.
Brenda, the friend I spoke to today after not talking for 30 years ago is still riding along with me. My beautiful wife is by my side co-piloting and switching off occasionally as pilot when I become road weary. My aging, but relatively healthy mom, dad, mother-in-law, father-in-law and my sweet friends Bill Stott and Robert Bly, about a dozen long time friends not to mention my brother, sister are all sitting comfortably in my mortality motor vehicle.
This road winds, curves, and delights and I can't even see around the next bend. I can't hardly wait to see where it takes me.
Question: Are you taking roads never before traveled or just taking the same old ones?
Today, like many days when I have nothing really pressing to do I drive down quiet, unfamiliar country roads just to see where they go. I am never disappointed because I don't drive with any expectations. I just go to see what I can see and where I'll end up. Sometimes I drive for thirty minutes to an hour and get totally lost only to eventually come upon something that tells me where I really am.
Now that I have survived a heart attack I don't really know where I am because I'm heading down another kind of road--one that I have never been down before. I don't know where I'm going but I have a clearer idea of who will be my traveling companions than I ever did in my youth. Back then it seemed I was always picking up temporary relationship hitch-hikers that very often wanted out sooner than I or I would rue the day I picked them up.
Brenda, the friend I spoke to today after not talking for 30 years ago is still riding along with me. My beautiful wife is by my side co-piloting and switching off occasionally as pilot when I become road weary. My aging, but relatively healthy mom, dad, mother-in-law, father-in-law and my sweet friends Bill Stott and Robert Bly, about a dozen long time friends not to mention my brother, sister are all sitting comfortably in my mortality motor vehicle.
This road winds, curves, and delights and I can't even see around the next bend. I can't hardly wait to see where it takes me.
Question: Are you taking roads never before traveled or just taking the same old ones?
Thursday, June 10, 2010
Hindsight 20/20
“The pond is fed from within.” —William Lyon Phelps
A pond evaporates in a time of drought, and it takes a long time and a lot of rain to fill it up again. For a few years before my heart attack I too often felt like a dried-up pond, a soul that resembled the Sahara desert, an empty well. In my parched condition I would often look back and try to see what I was really giving others? I try to see when serving switched into struggling?
The work I want to do now should water my soul and keep it strong, as good food nourishes the body.
With 20/20 hindsight I see that some of the jobs I did, even the creative work I produced,became too big and too important, obscuring everything else in my life. I, like many who so desperately hope our soul will be healed through accomplishments and achievements lost sight of what is really valuable, real, and eternal. As the great Albert Schwietzer said,"The only ones among you who will be really happy are those who sought and found how to serve."
Question: Is the work you are doing make you feel moist or parched?
A pond evaporates in a time of drought, and it takes a long time and a lot of rain to fill it up again. For a few years before my heart attack I too often felt like a dried-up pond, a soul that resembled the Sahara desert, an empty well. In my parched condition I would often look back and try to see what I was really giving others? I try to see when serving switched into struggling?
The work I want to do now should water my soul and keep it strong, as good food nourishes the body.
With 20/20 hindsight I see that some of the jobs I did, even the creative work I produced,became too big and too important, obscuring everything else in my life. I, like many who so desperately hope our soul will be healed through accomplishments and achievements lost sight of what is really valuable, real, and eternal. As the great Albert Schwietzer said,"The only ones among you who will be really happy are those who sought and found how to serve."
Question: Is the work you are doing make you feel moist or parched?
Wednesday, June 9, 2010
Questions or Answers
“Questions are the keys that cause the secret doors of the psyche to swing open.” —Clarissa Pinkola Estés
As a boy I was taught that men, real men were supposed to have the answers to life’s questions and solutions to all life’s problems. In my twenties I would reassure myself whatever I didn't yet know, I would surely understand in my thirties. Of course, the thirties came and went and I hoped that the remaining mysteries (there were so many) would all be solved by midlife.
As I prepare to say goodbye to my fifties I finally have begun to realize that the most important questions are still unanswered and may go unanswered. At this point in my life I am beginning to wonder whether “answers” that are static, never-changing even exist. Such a moment represents a golden opportunity.
I'm beginning to get the sense that it’s time to stop pretending I can ever get THE ANSWERS and that now is the time to really start asking more questions. Perhaps it is in the process of being ready to simply ask "and ye shall receive" is where I was meant to be all along. Simply engaging in the mysterious unknown, being the perpetual student is what brings me closer to my own center and gives me a better chance of finding a little more serenity.
Question: What questions do you still find unanswered no matter what age you are?
As a boy I was taught that men, real men were supposed to have the answers to life’s questions and solutions to all life’s problems. In my twenties I would reassure myself whatever I didn't yet know, I would surely understand in my thirties. Of course, the thirties came and went and I hoped that the remaining mysteries (there were so many) would all be solved by midlife.
As I prepare to say goodbye to my fifties I finally have begun to realize that the most important questions are still unanswered and may go unanswered. At this point in my life I am beginning to wonder whether “answers” that are static, never-changing even exist. Such a moment represents a golden opportunity.
I'm beginning to get the sense that it’s time to stop pretending I can ever get THE ANSWERS and that now is the time to really start asking more questions. Perhaps it is in the process of being ready to simply ask "and ye shall receive" is where I was meant to be all along. Simply engaging in the mysterious unknown, being the perpetual student is what brings me closer to my own center and gives me a better chance of finding a little more serenity.
Question: What questions do you still find unanswered no matter what age you are?
Tuesday, June 8, 2010
What is Happening?
“The foolish man seeks happiness in the distance, the wise grows it under his feet.” —James Oppenheim
Some days before my heart attack I would wake up hell-bent on happiness. If I pause now I usually notice that I’ve found it, and wonder how I got here. More often than not my happiness comes from what happens, and what I do with it. For me these days happiness exists in what’s happening now, not in my daydreams of what’s going to happen some other day.
Wise souls in all ages have been saying this same thing for thousands of years. While I can't put any claim on wisdom yet I do know if I don’t practice the art of finding my “happiness” right where I am, then nothing that changes outside me will make me happy.
Question: Is what is happening now in your own life resulting in happiness?
Some days before my heart attack I would wake up hell-bent on happiness. If I pause now I usually notice that I’ve found it, and wonder how I got here. More often than not my happiness comes from what happens, and what I do with it. For me these days happiness exists in what’s happening now, not in my daydreams of what’s going to happen some other day.
Wise souls in all ages have been saying this same thing for thousands of years. While I can't put any claim on wisdom yet I do know if I don’t practice the art of finding my “happiness” right where I am, then nothing that changes outside me will make me happy.
Question: Is what is happening now in your own life resulting in happiness?
Monday, June 7, 2010
Patience
“Knowing trees, I understand the meaning of patience. Knowing grass, I can appreciate persistence.” —Hal Borland
I learned how to "wait" a long time ago. I waited on my high school sweetheart to get ready for a date sometimes for hours, but not patiently. I waited to leave home, I waited to grow up and get rich-- (still waiting). Patience remains a way of being that eluded me right up to my heart attack and even during. You should have seen me as a "patient" who had to "wait" in the emergency room and then later in the "waiting" room to see my doctor for a follow up.
What I needed in my teens, twenties,thirties, forties and now fifties is patience-- with my own healing process, patience with my wife's. After all she survived a heart attack, surgery and my impatience.
I need to cultivate and exercise patience with people in general: the slow driver ahead of me, the person with too many items in the “express” checkout, the guy I saw yesterday flossing his teeth and talking on the cell phone while driving. To live in this foreign land of patience, I need a greater sense of humor. And most of all, I need to have patience with myself while I'm trying to learn patience.
Patience is more than a virtue. It’s a necessity, if I'm ever going to experience serenity that lasts longer than a few minutes.
Question: With whom or what do you need more patience with?
I learned how to "wait" a long time ago. I waited on my high school sweetheart to get ready for a date sometimes for hours, but not patiently. I waited to leave home, I waited to grow up and get rich-- (still waiting). Patience remains a way of being that eluded me right up to my heart attack and even during. You should have seen me as a "patient" who had to "wait" in the emergency room and then later in the "waiting" room to see my doctor for a follow up.
What I needed in my teens, twenties,thirties, forties and now fifties is patience-- with my own healing process, patience with my wife's. After all she survived a heart attack, surgery and my impatience.
I need to cultivate and exercise patience with people in general: the slow driver ahead of me, the person with too many items in the “express” checkout, the guy I saw yesterday flossing his teeth and talking on the cell phone while driving. To live in this foreign land of patience, I need a greater sense of humor. And most of all, I need to have patience with myself while I'm trying to learn patience.
Patience is more than a virtue. It’s a necessity, if I'm ever going to experience serenity that lasts longer than a few minutes.
Question: With whom or what do you need more patience with?
Sunday, June 6, 2010
Legacy
"No legacy is so rich as honesty." Shakespeare
This sultry summer morning as I was walking my Alaskan Malamutes for mine I saw a concrete slab that held up the park's ice machines. On it was etched the words, "Mary Koop 2005". Mary like the rest of us wants to be remembered, wants people to know she was there that day.
Since the summer of of 1984 I have written over 20 books. Mary and I want the same thing. Some of you reading this have this in common with Mary and I. You have your children, creative endeavors, projects, patents and portraits. We all want to be remembered for something, for being here, for having given something to the world that gave so much of itself to us.
Since my heart attack I've discovered that my real legacy lies in the hearts and memories of those who love me and theirs' reside in me. How people "feel" about me is rapidly becoming the true measure and meaning of my time here on the planet. While I wouldn't take anything for the books that got published I won't spend the rest of what time I have left putting publications over people at least not on good days.
Question: Who besides your immediate family will carry your legacy in their heart?
This sultry summer morning as I was walking my Alaskan Malamutes for mine I saw a concrete slab that held up the park's ice machines. On it was etched the words, "Mary Koop 2005". Mary like the rest of us wants to be remembered, wants people to know she was there that day.
Since the summer of of 1984 I have written over 20 books. Mary and I want the same thing. Some of you reading this have this in common with Mary and I. You have your children, creative endeavors, projects, patents and portraits. We all want to be remembered for something, for being here, for having given something to the world that gave so much of itself to us.
Since my heart attack I've discovered that my real legacy lies in the hearts and memories of those who love me and theirs' reside in me. How people "feel" about me is rapidly becoming the true measure and meaning of my time here on the planet. While I wouldn't take anything for the books that got published I won't spend the rest of what time I have left putting publications over people at least not on good days.
Question: Who besides your immediate family will carry your legacy in their heart?
Saturday, June 5, 2010
Pondering and Ruminating
“The present moment is a powerful goddess.” —Johann Wolfgang Von Goethe
Some call it nostalgia, some call it introspection, ruminating and pondering are nice Southern names for the same things but the truth is I still spend a lot of time in the past —thinking about what I should have done or said, doubting,and second-guessing. Sometimes I savor a memory. Before my heart attack I too often swam in the deep water of regret.
Also before my chest was cracked open I would jump like frog legs in a frying pan into the future, planning my next career move, conquest or failure. In the meantime, life was often passing by unnoticed. (By the way fried frog legs taste just like chicken.)
As my healing progresses and deepens, I spend less and less time pondering the things I'm powerless to change. With hindsight I can even honor and be grateful for the addictions and addictive thinking as the powerful teachers they are. When I put judgment aside, I'm available to feel and see what’s happening right now, really see myself, and loved ones as they are. In this simple perspective lies freedom.
Question: What do you find yourself ruminating about these days?
Some call it nostalgia, some call it introspection, ruminating and pondering are nice Southern names for the same things but the truth is I still spend a lot of time in the past —thinking about what I should have done or said, doubting,and second-guessing. Sometimes I savor a memory. Before my heart attack I too often swam in the deep water of regret.
Also before my chest was cracked open I would jump like frog legs in a frying pan into the future, planning my next career move, conquest or failure. In the meantime, life was often passing by unnoticed. (By the way fried frog legs taste just like chicken.)
As my healing progresses and deepens, I spend less and less time pondering the things I'm powerless to change. With hindsight I can even honor and be grateful for the addictions and addictive thinking as the powerful teachers they are. When I put judgment aside, I'm available to feel and see what’s happening right now, really see myself, and loved ones as they are. In this simple perspective lies freedom.
Question: What do you find yourself ruminating about these days?
Friday, June 4, 2010
Uplifted
"Where is the love, beauty and truth we seek, But in our mind?"
—Percy Shelley
Sometimes I just can’t figure things out. Especially during the early stages of my recovery from surgery I felt so out of control, perplexed, out of sorts. Then I'd hear a song on the radio, or see something beautiful that reminded me of what I love, or hear the call of a certain bird that flies me right back into the good parts of my childhood. Just taking a walk at these times reminded me there is no such thing as distance, no such state as “all alone.”
Today before leaving for work, during a break in the day’s schedule, or just before going to sleep I’m going to remember those moments of connectedness—seeing a fine picture, reading a great poem, appreciating a model airplane, an old TV show, a good song. Absorbing these small pleasures takes me back to the source of all beauty, energy, and bliss. As I remember what lifts me up, I’ll let myself feel uplifted; I’ll rest in that fullness and walk in that knowledge.
Question: What lifts you up when pressed down by the illusion "you're all alone"?
—Percy Shelley
Sometimes I just can’t figure things out. Especially during the early stages of my recovery from surgery I felt so out of control, perplexed, out of sorts. Then I'd hear a song on the radio, or see something beautiful that reminded me of what I love, or hear the call of a certain bird that flies me right back into the good parts of my childhood. Just taking a walk at these times reminded me there is no such thing as distance, no such state as “all alone.”
Today before leaving for work, during a break in the day’s schedule, or just before going to sleep I’m going to remember those moments of connectedness—seeing a fine picture, reading a great poem, appreciating a model airplane, an old TV show, a good song. Absorbing these small pleasures takes me back to the source of all beauty, energy, and bliss. As I remember what lifts me up, I’ll let myself feel uplifted; I’ll rest in that fullness and walk in that knowledge.
Question: What lifts you up when pressed down by the illusion "you're all alone"?
Thursday, June 3, 2010
Finding the Balance Again
“Teach us to care and not to care and to be still.” —T.S. Eliot
In my youth I did all kinds of things in the name of survival or to be thought of as a "nice guy": taking care of everybody else, knocking myself out to prove I was “worthy” of love. I lost a lot of myself in the process.
Or I’d try the opposite side for a while and I’d pretend I didn’t need anybody, the lone wolf who would only look out for old Number One, when secretly I feared that no one else cared about me. Both tactics failed.
In the end I’ve had to begin learning the difference between “care-taking”—giving up my own needs in favor of others’ needs—and caring for people—loving them while respecting their right to live in their own way.
Especially since my heart attack I’ve learned, too, that sometimes “no” is the most loving word that I can say. I've said no quite a bit lately--"no" to exhaustion, "no" to too much traveling and "no" to trying to do this thing called "life" by myself. More yeses are coming--"yes" to more conversations with friends, "yes" to family, "yes" to quietly reading good books and long walks in the park.
Questions: What do you need to say "no" to and what do you need to say "yes" to?
In my youth I did all kinds of things in the name of survival or to be thought of as a "nice guy": taking care of everybody else, knocking myself out to prove I was “worthy” of love. I lost a lot of myself in the process.
Or I’d try the opposite side for a while and I’d pretend I didn’t need anybody, the lone wolf who would only look out for old Number One, when secretly I feared that no one else cared about me. Both tactics failed.
In the end I’ve had to begin learning the difference between “care-taking”—giving up my own needs in favor of others’ needs—and caring for people—loving them while respecting their right to live in their own way.
Especially since my heart attack I’ve learned, too, that sometimes “no” is the most loving word that I can say. I've said no quite a bit lately--"no" to exhaustion, "no" to too much traveling and "no" to trying to do this thing called "life" by myself. More yeses are coming--"yes" to more conversations with friends, "yes" to family, "yes" to quietly reading good books and long walks in the park.
Questions: What do you need to say "no" to and what do you need to say "yes" to?
Wednesday, June 2, 2010
Silence
“Silence is deep as Eternity; speech is shallow as Time.”
—Thomas Carlyle
When I get scared and I've been scared a lot lately and I'm full of anxiety, I sometimes feel compelled to fill the air with talk. I may be saying nothing of substance, but still, the noise is somehow comforting to me. It affirms that I’m here, that I’m active and alive.
The sound of the spoken word can be a wonderful tool for healing, yet I must learn to feel the value of silence. I can do this by surrounding myself with quiet, instead of the sound of my voice.
The older I get the more silence seems necessary if I am to listen carefully to the messages my soul is trying to send to my over active brain.
Cliches' become cliches because they are true--Silence is golden.
Question: When do you talk when silence is what is really be called for?
—Thomas Carlyle
When I get scared and I've been scared a lot lately and I'm full of anxiety, I sometimes feel compelled to fill the air with talk. I may be saying nothing of substance, but still, the noise is somehow comforting to me. It affirms that I’m here, that I’m active and alive.
The sound of the spoken word can be a wonderful tool for healing, yet I must learn to feel the value of silence. I can do this by surrounding myself with quiet, instead of the sound of my voice.
The older I get the more silence seems necessary if I am to listen carefully to the messages my soul is trying to send to my over active brain.
Cliches' become cliches because they are true--Silence is golden.
Question: When do you talk when silence is what is really be called for?
Tuesday, June 1, 2010
Not-Doing
“It is not healthy to be thinking all the time. Thinking is intended for acquiring knowledge or applying it. It is not essential living.” —Ernest Wood
As young a young man I loved to “push the river,”trying out my mental and physical muscles, swimming against the current. As an "older" man pushing is not my passion. Early on I learned that my life was up to me, that I should strive hard, persevere, even punish my body to keep my head above water. It took me a long time to remember that I could be held up by that water, made alive by its grace, supported by its buoyant energy.
Few of us learned one of the secrets of freedom: that “not-doing” carries us further than we could ever have gone under our own efforts. Even better, when I stop pushing my life along, the ego stays in check, because it can’t take credit for what I accomplish by simply letting go.
Nature teaches “not-doing” to all with eyes to see. The chick does not construct the egg it’s born from. The grass is planted by the wind, the lake is filled by the rain, and no one has to wake up the sun in the morning! Life has its perfect plan. When I surrender to its current, I free to give a much needed rest to my mental machinery.
Question: Are you still "pushing" or are you "letting go" as the decades roll along?
As young a young man I loved to “push the river,”trying out my mental and physical muscles, swimming against the current. As an "older" man pushing is not my passion. Early on I learned that my life was up to me, that I should strive hard, persevere, even punish my body to keep my head above water. It took me a long time to remember that I could be held up by that water, made alive by its grace, supported by its buoyant energy.
Few of us learned one of the secrets of freedom: that “not-doing” carries us further than we could ever have gone under our own efforts. Even better, when I stop pushing my life along, the ego stays in check, because it can’t take credit for what I accomplish by simply letting go.
Nature teaches “not-doing” to all with eyes to see. The chick does not construct the egg it’s born from. The grass is planted by the wind, the lake is filled by the rain, and no one has to wake up the sun in the morning! Life has its perfect plan. When I surrender to its current, I free to give a much needed rest to my mental machinery.
Question: Are you still "pushing" or are you "letting go" as the decades roll along?
Monday, May 31, 2010
The Real Work
“It may be that when we no longer know what to do we have come to our real work and that when we no longer know which way to go we have begun our real journey.” —Wendell Berry
At mid-life or other watershed periods, many of us feel lost, confused, uncertain of the terrain ahead. Sometimes I turn to look back at the well-worn patterns of the more familiar past, and I know I can’t bring some of the old ways forward into the future. These times seems to call for a kind of rebirth.
I don’t have to totally leave my career or make a major geographical move in order to meet this challenge, but I can take stock of how I work and relate to others. I have to understand myself differently in the world. I can take the pressure off to prove my worth through work, since finally I know now that I'm worthwhile regardless of what work I do.
Becoming a new person inside, getting a clearer understanding of life’s priorities, is the road my changing body and soul must walk. I can no longer coast on the blissful ignorance of youth; now I must roll up my sleeves and use real, permanent,great inner resources —wisdom, faith, love—to live the rest of my life as honorably as I can.
Question: What Life Change brought with it a Rebirth?
At mid-life or other watershed periods, many of us feel lost, confused, uncertain of the terrain ahead. Sometimes I turn to look back at the well-worn patterns of the more familiar past, and I know I can’t bring some of the old ways forward into the future. These times seems to call for a kind of rebirth.
I don’t have to totally leave my career or make a major geographical move in order to meet this challenge, but I can take stock of how I work and relate to others. I have to understand myself differently in the world. I can take the pressure off to prove my worth through work, since finally I know now that I'm worthwhile regardless of what work I do.
Becoming a new person inside, getting a clearer understanding of life’s priorities, is the road my changing body and soul must walk. I can no longer coast on the blissful ignorance of youth; now I must roll up my sleeves and use real, permanent,great inner resources —wisdom, faith, love—to live the rest of my life as honorably as I can.
Question: What Life Change brought with it a Rebirth?
Sunday, May 30, 2010
Acceptance
“The pleasures of heaven are with me, and the
pains of hell are with me,
The first I graft and increase upon myself. . .
the latter I translate into a new tongue.” —Walt Whitman
Some mornings like this one my soul is so quiet, I can hear a leaf drop through the branches of the oak tree. I can sense the cool water in the stream that stretches all the way through the valley. I can listen to the infinite play of wind chimes.
Then there are days when a barking dog makes me want to bark back, louder. When serenity is tenuous, even the sound of a plane passing at thirty-five thousand feet can be enough to ruin the morning. Now after my heart attack planes do not perturb me as often as they used to. Even the sound of the young man's car radio boom, boom, booming doesn't bother me like it would have before.
On both kinds of days, the noisy and the quiet, the same challenge exists: to accept and, yes, even love whatever is taking place inside me. To see myself as many, to practice loving these seemingly opposite parts of myself is to begin to learn real love.
pains of hell are with me,
The first I graft and increase upon myself. . .
the latter I translate into a new tongue.” —Walt Whitman
Some mornings like this one my soul is so quiet, I can hear a leaf drop through the branches of the oak tree. I can sense the cool water in the stream that stretches all the way through the valley. I can listen to the infinite play of wind chimes.
Then there are days when a barking dog makes me want to bark back, louder. When serenity is tenuous, even the sound of a plane passing at thirty-five thousand feet can be enough to ruin the morning. Now after my heart attack planes do not perturb me as often as they used to. Even the sound of the young man's car radio boom, boom, booming doesn't bother me like it would have before.
On both kinds of days, the noisy and the quiet, the same challenge exists: to accept and, yes, even love whatever is taking place inside me. To see myself as many, to practice loving these seemingly opposite parts of myself is to begin to learn real love.
Saturday, May 29, 2010
Missing the Mark
“You aim at the chopping block…not the wood.” —Annie Dillard
Whether we chop wood or not, we can appreciate Dillard’s point: Far too often I find myself focusing on the “wood,” the apparent problem, rather than what’s underneath. If I aim at the wood, it only splinters into a dozen small pieces. (And guess who picks up the pieces!)
If I focus only on what I can see in my new post-heart attack life, I will miss the point. I will make a mess. I will get frustrated. Part of what got me to this place was too little concern with FAITH and too much concern with increasing my bank balance, my book sales, my speaking engagements and trying to be "somebody." In other words I committed a whole host of "sins."
The original Greek word for sin means "missing the mark." It was an archery term. Boy did I miss the mark again and again. I hope my aim is improving.
Questions: How is your aim these days? Are you still missing the mark?
Whether we chop wood or not, we can appreciate Dillard’s point: Far too often I find myself focusing on the “wood,” the apparent problem, rather than what’s underneath. If I aim at the wood, it only splinters into a dozen small pieces. (And guess who picks up the pieces!)
If I focus only on what I can see in my new post-heart attack life, I will miss the point. I will make a mess. I will get frustrated. Part of what got me to this place was too little concern with FAITH and too much concern with increasing my bank balance, my book sales, my speaking engagements and trying to be "somebody." In other words I committed a whole host of "sins."
The original Greek word for sin means "missing the mark." It was an archery term. Boy did I miss the mark again and again. I hope my aim is improving.
Questions: How is your aim these days? Are you still missing the mark?
Friday, May 28, 2010
Trees, Rocks & Clouds
“ In the presence of nature a wild delight runs through the man in spite of real sorrows. —Ralph Waldo Emerson
For the last several entries I've been thanking people for the contributions they have made to my healing. The last few days I am going back more and more to parks and woods to tend to my heart. In the silence and safety that only a field, a stream, or a forest can provide, a different kind of deep healing naturally takes place.
As children many of us took to the woods and came to know the trees, rocks, and grassy knolls as spiritual mothers and fathers: as friends. When we became adults, though,many of us pulled away from the earth. I forgot the good heft of stone. I forgot that we were creatures of the land. I too often left the great rooms filled with sky, the chapels made of cedar and cypress, to seek out the sights and stimulation of the city. After my too long estrangement from the earth, I need to return to the natural wonders now and then, to purify my vision, to partake in the daily ceremonies nature conducts.
For the last several entries I've been thanking people for the contributions they have made to my healing. The last few days I am going back more and more to parks and woods to tend to my heart. In the silence and safety that only a field, a stream, or a forest can provide, a different kind of deep healing naturally takes place.
As children many of us took to the woods and came to know the trees, rocks, and grassy knolls as spiritual mothers and fathers: as friends. When we became adults, though,many of us pulled away from the earth. I forgot the good heft of stone. I forgot that we were creatures of the land. I too often left the great rooms filled with sky, the chapels made of cedar and cypress, to seek out the sights and stimulation of the city. After my too long estrangement from the earth, I need to return to the natural wonders now and then, to purify my vision, to partake in the daily ceremonies nature conducts.
Thursday, May 27, 2010
The Body Mysterious
“When something is mysterious, it doesn’t quite have a name.” —Ron Kurtz
In my body there are so many subtle feelings that can’t be described in words.This is especially true since my heart attack. They are nameless. I keep trying to write about what I am feeling and thinking but today I just can't.
All I can say is that my new/old body, the one with the long scar down my chest is as mysterious as a anything can be. However, today I don’t need to solve my inner mysteries any more than I need to “solve” a river or a tree. Just acknowledging the mystery, knowing of it, enlivens me and gives me faith that I’m on a great adventure.
In my body there are so many subtle feelings that can’t be described in words.This is especially true since my heart attack. They are nameless. I keep trying to write about what I am feeling and thinking but today I just can't.
All I can say is that my new/old body, the one with the long scar down my chest is as mysterious as a anything can be. However, today I don’t need to solve my inner mysteries any more than I need to “solve” a river or a tree. Just acknowledging the mystery, knowing of it, enlivens me and gives me faith that I’m on a great adventure.
Wednesday, May 26, 2010
That Which Doesn't Break
By the time a man or woman reaches the age of fifty or sixty we have been cut, scraped, bruised, operated on, shocked, loved, left and loved again so many times that it is a wonder of wonders that we're even here at all.
The body is so fragile and tenuous and yet those same cuts, operations, bruises and even beatings somehow forge a soul that can not only survive but thrive if they are counter-balanced by enough love, friendship, tenderness, time and support.
The cracking open of my chest and the quadruple by-pass is one of the most invasive things I've ever endured and yet now 15 weeks later I, like many of those who have experienced this operation, feel more blessed, more energized, and more connected to people,pets, things than ever before. But I got to also admit I hope I don't ever have to go through another.
Question: What nearly broke you but ultimately became a big part of your healing?
The body is so fragile and tenuous and yet those same cuts, operations, bruises and even beatings somehow forge a soul that can not only survive but thrive if they are counter-balanced by enough love, friendship, tenderness, time and support.
The cracking open of my chest and the quadruple by-pass is one of the most invasive things I've ever endured and yet now 15 weeks later I, like many of those who have experienced this operation, feel more blessed, more energized, and more connected to people,pets, things than ever before. But I got to also admit I hope I don't ever have to go through another.
Question: What nearly broke you but ultimately became a big part of your healing?
Tuesday, May 25, 2010
Time
Remember when you had so much time on your hands you could "kill" it and not feel a bit guilty about the crime? Remember when you had "all the time in the world"? Do you recall when "time was on your side?" Time was so much in abundance that you could waste time, spend time, lose time,and even make time, time and time again.
Since my heart attack, when time almost caught up with me and killed me I feel more relaxed about time in some ways than I ever have before. And in other ways (none of them morbid) I feel that time is "running" out.
I told a friend the other day that if the next 10 years go by as fast as the last 20 then they will only feel like 5. Today I feel that I want to make the most of the time I have left no matter how long or short that is and the way to this is by only doing what I really love and being with those I love more of the time than not.
Question: Is time a'wastin'?
Since my heart attack, when time almost caught up with me and killed me I feel more relaxed about time in some ways than I ever have before. And in other ways (none of them morbid) I feel that time is "running" out.
I told a friend the other day that if the next 10 years go by as fast as the last 20 then they will only feel like 5. Today I feel that I want to make the most of the time I have left no matter how long or short that is and the way to this is by only doing what I really love and being with those I love more of the time than not.
Question: Is time a'wastin'?
Monday, May 24, 2010
The Pool of Not-Knowing
Some mornings, like this one for instance, even though I see the bright sun already at work warming the South, I take a dive anyway into the sometimes dark pool of not knowing. As I swim or simply tread water I wonder where are the classmates, old loves and friends that vowed we'd always stay in touch. I wonder if they are doing well or poorly, alive, dead, married, divorced, with or without children.
I do not know where Robin is and if she ever returned to Jamaica after our journey there together a million years ago. I do not know where Marty, my assistant manager and young sweetheart is and what she loves doing today. I do not know where all those students that I taught over the last 30 years finally landed. Speaking of landing, I wonder if Laurel in The Flying Boy (that is not her real name) ever forgave me for flying I did at her expense.
The pool of not knowing is deep, sometimes cold, and as murky as my old memory. Was it Marty who went to Jamaica and Robin who was my assistant manager? Okay. My memory isn't quite that bad.
This little blurb is a shout out to anyone who has dove into this same pool and wondered, "Where did old John Lee go after leaving Florence, Tuscaloosa, Austin and other locals?"
Question: When you dive into the pool who do you wonder about?
I do not know where Robin is and if she ever returned to Jamaica after our journey there together a million years ago. I do not know where Marty, my assistant manager and young sweetheart is and what she loves doing today. I do not know where all those students that I taught over the last 30 years finally landed. Speaking of landing, I wonder if Laurel in The Flying Boy (that is not her real name) ever forgave me for flying I did at her expense.
The pool of not knowing is deep, sometimes cold, and as murky as my old memory. Was it Marty who went to Jamaica and Robin who was my assistant manager? Okay. My memory isn't quite that bad.
This little blurb is a shout out to anyone who has dove into this same pool and wondered, "Where did old John Lee go after leaving Florence, Tuscaloosa, Austin and other locals?"
Question: When you dive into the pool who do you wonder about?
Sunday, May 23, 2010
The Spiritual Side
This morning I woke up thinking about the spiritual side of what I thought "should have been." By most people's standards and estimations I "should have been" last on their list and mine for a heart attack. Prior to it I ate right, exercised, kept my weight down, don't smoke or drink. And yet a heart attack I did have. What a God-given gift it has been. It changed my life for the better in more ways than a short blog (I promise to only write short ones knowing how busy you are)can capture.
Based on my education and upbringing I should have been a machinist like my father or a plumber like my brother and yet for some mysterious reason I became a writer. Writing has been my salvation, what keeps me semi-sane, though I often wish I had learned my father's trade and inherited his and my brother's ability to build, repair and make things but here I am writing this blog.
I should have married my high-school sweetheart (so many do) but instead I was blessed with some really wonderful people who were "girlfriends" and supremely blessed by The Great Spirit of Love to marry the most beautiful, kind, intelligent, and funny woman Susan my beloved.
Question: So do you often think about the spiritual side of what you thought should have been?
Based on my education and upbringing I should have been a machinist like my father or a plumber like my brother and yet for some mysterious reason I became a writer. Writing has been my salvation, what keeps me semi-sane, though I often wish I had learned my father's trade and inherited his and my brother's ability to build, repair and make things but here I am writing this blog.
I should have married my high-school sweetheart (so many do) but instead I was blessed with some really wonderful people who were "girlfriends" and supremely blessed by The Great Spirit of Love to marry the most beautiful, kind, intelligent, and funny woman Susan my beloved.
Question: So do you often think about the spiritual side of what you thought should have been?
Saturday, May 22, 2010
Break Time
Today I take a little break from any serious consideration of my mental,physical or spiritual state. I am thinking about the lighter part of my heart attack/by-pass debacle.
On the second day after surgery there I am lying in bed, unshaven, no bath in about four days, tubes in places I couldn't even see and I was pooped.
My dear wife Susan had gone to fetch herself something to eat, no nurses to attend to my needs, when I hear a gentle knock on my hospital door. I squeak out the words, "come in" and in walks one of the most beautiful girls in our high school graduation class of 1969. There she stood gorgeous as ever, slender as ever and as kind-hearted as ever. And I cannot, thanks to morphine, recall a word that was spoken between us. All I thought about while she stood there was that I must look terrible. Why couldn't she see me at my best--giving a lecture to 500 people, being a legend in my own mind, funny and full of life? Oh no. I had to be on the bed looking like death warmed over. Even heart-attack survivors have their vanity.
But I'm so glad she came, touched really that she came as did others with such tenderness in their eyes, beauty in their wrinkled but kind faces. I will never remember her words but will always treasure the gift of her presence.
Question: What moment were you seen at your worst and still felt loved?
On the second day after surgery there I am lying in bed, unshaven, no bath in about four days, tubes in places I couldn't even see and I was pooped.
My dear wife Susan had gone to fetch herself something to eat, no nurses to attend to my needs, when I hear a gentle knock on my hospital door. I squeak out the words, "come in" and in walks one of the most beautiful girls in our high school graduation class of 1969. There she stood gorgeous as ever, slender as ever and as kind-hearted as ever. And I cannot, thanks to morphine, recall a word that was spoken between us. All I thought about while she stood there was that I must look terrible. Why couldn't she see me at my best--giving a lecture to 500 people, being a legend in my own mind, funny and full of life? Oh no. I had to be on the bed looking like death warmed over. Even heart-attack survivors have their vanity.
But I'm so glad she came, touched really that she came as did others with such tenderness in their eyes, beauty in their wrinkled but kind faces. I will never remember her words but will always treasure the gift of her presence.
Question: What moment were you seen at your worst and still felt loved?
Friday, May 21, 2010
Dreams
The Talmud, a commentary on the Hebrew Bible says, "An uninterpreted dream is like an unopened letter." Since my heart attack my dreams have been disturbing at worst and informative at best. I dream often of Austin, Tx. where I went through so many life changes. There I became a student,teacher, writer,therapist,friend and foe, lover and loved.
I have several major regrets when I think about or wake from a dream of Austin. I got disconnected from men and women who inspired me and changed me. During whatever time I have left I feel compelled to reconnect with those who it would not injure to do so, to paraphrase one the twelve steps.
I dream of those people as they were over 20 years ago. I try to interpret what their nocturnal appearances mean and mostly after much time and consideration I only arrive at the conclusion that they mean so much to me and time is wasting to get in touch.
Question: Who do you dream about that needs to be thanked, called, checked in with or apologized to?
I have several major regrets when I think about or wake from a dream of Austin. I got disconnected from men and women who inspired me and changed me. During whatever time I have left I feel compelled to reconnect with those who it would not injure to do so, to paraphrase one the twelve steps.
I dream of those people as they were over 20 years ago. I try to interpret what their nocturnal appearances mean and mostly after much time and consideration I only arrive at the conclusion that they mean so much to me and time is wasting to get in touch.
Question: Who do you dream about that needs to be thanked, called, checked in with or apologized to?
Thursday, May 20, 2010
The Divine Circle
I've been studying on the Divine Circularity of life now for some time especially since my heart attack. The 1970's singer Harry Chapin said it best before he departed and too soon to say the least, "...All my life's a circle, sunrise and sundown..." Emerson said in his essay Circles, "The eye is the first circle..."
I said, when I left Alabama for Austin, Texas nearly 30 years ago, I'd never live again in Alabama. I came back to the place I left. Today I spoke to a man I hadn't heard from in nearly 20 years who helped my career in ways I'll never be able to thank him for though I did try today. Back then I was so little known I wrote and spoke for free. Now thirty years later I write again for free and am very glad to be alive to do so. I heard from my high school sweetheart, the man who taught me to play guitar, the man who taught me how to teach--circle after circle after yet another circle.
Question: Do you see the circles in your own life and do you honor them or do you need a crisis to spur you to do so?
I said, when I left Alabama for Austin, Texas nearly 30 years ago, I'd never live again in Alabama. I came back to the place I left. Today I spoke to a man I hadn't heard from in nearly 20 years who helped my career in ways I'll never be able to thank him for though I did try today. Back then I was so little known I wrote and spoke for free. Now thirty years later I write again for free and am very glad to be alive to do so. I heard from my high school sweetheart, the man who taught me to play guitar, the man who taught me how to teach--circle after circle after yet another circle.
Question: Do you see the circles in your own life and do you honor them or do you need a crisis to spur you to do so?
Wednesday, May 19, 2010
Admission
For nearly 25 years I have made my living as a public speaker/lecturer/teacher. For 25 years I have tried to pretend that I am a social person when I go out in public. Now my closest friends will not be the least shocked by this admission--I have long been plagued by a low-grade social phobia.
I get nervous, my hands get clammy and the back of my neck perspires. Early in my career some would say something like, "How do you go out to 40-50 cities a year and talk to all those people?" My standard answer was, "I have to totally re-wire myself and then when I get home I have wire myself back into my natural introverted state."
I realize now with wonderful 20/20 hindsight that re-wiring is largely the cause of my heart attack, well that and my genes. In the time that I have left I am no longer willing to try and be something I'm not. I am a dyed in the wool introvert who loves to write, read, and only go out occasionally and that is what I'm going to do.
Question: Who have you pretended to be or "re-wired" yourself to try to be?
I get nervous, my hands get clammy and the back of my neck perspires. Early in my career some would say something like, "How do you go out to 40-50 cities a year and talk to all those people?" My standard answer was, "I have to totally re-wire myself and then when I get home I have wire myself back into my natural introverted state."
I realize now with wonderful 20/20 hindsight that re-wiring is largely the cause of my heart attack, well that and my genes. In the time that I have left I am no longer willing to try and be something I'm not. I am a dyed in the wool introvert who loves to write, read, and only go out occasionally and that is what I'm going to do.
Question: Who have you pretended to be or "re-wired" yourself to try to be?
Tuesday, May 18, 2010
Numbness Before Awakening
For the last four or five days I have felt my upper chest to be numb. I was fairly concerned about this. I asked the rehab lady if this was normal. She responded, "Yes. It means "it" is waking up."
I remembered how in my twenties and thirties it seemed like someone had given my heart and soul a huge shot of novocaine. I was pretty much "numb" to everything and everyone, with the possible exception of the students I taught. I guess what I'm saying is that numbness is precursor to waking up. Numbness then is perhaps a good sign.
The rehab lady said "waking up may take months." I think it takes a lifetime but that crisis, losses, transitions and change may be fast tracks to sloughing off the deep spiritual, emotional and mental sleep that I know I lapse back into from time to time and sometimes for a very long, long time.
I think often of the Persian poet Rumi's words, "...Don't go back to sleep..."
Question: What did it take to "wake" you up a little bit or a lot?
I remembered how in my twenties and thirties it seemed like someone had given my heart and soul a huge shot of novocaine. I was pretty much "numb" to everything and everyone, with the possible exception of the students I taught. I guess what I'm saying is that numbness is precursor to waking up. Numbness then is perhaps a good sign.
The rehab lady said "waking up may take months." I think it takes a lifetime but that crisis, losses, transitions and change may be fast tracks to sloughing off the deep spiritual, emotional and mental sleep that I know I lapse back into from time to time and sometimes for a very long, long time.
I think often of the Persian poet Rumi's words, "...Don't go back to sleep..."
Question: What did it take to "wake" you up a little bit or a lot?
Monday, May 17, 2010
Transforming a life
The great Russian writer, Tolstoy, said in A Calendar of Wisdom: "The more you transform your life from the material to the spiritual domain, the less you become afraid of death."
Our living room in the house we are renting has not one stick of furniture in it. I'm sitting by the window that looks out onto a beautiful park in a twenty-five dollar lawn chair. My dad telling me the other day about his time spent with my grandfather when he had a heart attack moved me deeply. I am no Tolstoy, but the things I just mentioned are getting more and more important. The need for material things has been taken down a notch or two since my own heart attack. Will this be continued the further away from the crisis I get? Will the spiritual become increasingly important? Will I become less and less fearful of death if it does?
Before my heart attack I thought I was not afraid of death but deeply afraid of pain. Now that I have experienced the latter I'm not so sure of my fears.
Questions: Are you afraid of death or pain? Are you moving from the material to the spiritual? If so how? I would like to know.
Our living room in the house we are renting has not one stick of furniture in it. I'm sitting by the window that looks out onto a beautiful park in a twenty-five dollar lawn chair. My dad telling me the other day about his time spent with my grandfather when he had a heart attack moved me deeply. I am no Tolstoy, but the things I just mentioned are getting more and more important. The need for material things has been taken down a notch or two since my own heart attack. Will this be continued the further away from the crisis I get? Will the spiritual become increasingly important? Will I become less and less fearful of death if it does?
Before my heart attack I thought I was not afraid of death but deeply afraid of pain. Now that I have experienced the latter I'm not so sure of my fears.
Questions: Are you afraid of death or pain? Are you moving from the material to the spiritual? If so how? I would like to know.
Sunday, May 16, 2010
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?
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?
Saturday, May 15, 2010
Giving Things Away
Black Elk, a medicine man of the Oglala Sioux nation and devout Catholic Christian convert spoke about "give-away" ceremonies. He explained that when you give away your prized possessions some sort of spiritual energy is returned to the giver.
Yesterday I gave away some things including the only constant home I have ever known. When I was growing up my restless father moved us around and then as an adult I continued the habit. But 20 years ago I bought this little slice of heaven that became an anchor for my flying boy soul and body.
While I didn't give it away permanently , which may explain why I didn't feel any energy return to me, I did give it for a year to a wonderful couple. While moving mine and Susan's things out and into our new rental home I had to wonder what my life would have been like if I had given away more things.
Question: What things, if given away, would give you a return of spirit?
Yesterday I gave away some things including the only constant home I have ever known. When I was growing up my restless father moved us around and then as an adult I continued the habit. But 20 years ago I bought this little slice of heaven that became an anchor for my flying boy soul and body.
While I didn't give it away permanently , which may explain why I didn't feel any energy return to me, I did give it for a year to a wonderful couple. While moving mine and Susan's things out and into our new rental home I had to wonder what my life would have been like if I had given away more things.
Question: What things, if given away, would give you a return of spirit?
Friday, May 14, 2010
Pre-Grieving
I have a couple of elderly friends that are so dear to me that I have mourned the loss of them before they depart. I have even written a "living eulogy" for them. I have believed in pre-grieving for nearly 20 years. I always wondered where I got the notion that is not very popular and to some even seems a bit on the morbid side.
Yesterday I was reading this great novel The Poet of Tolstoy Park by a fellow Alabamian Sonny Brewer and in it he quoted one of my favorite poets who I'd read 30 years ago. Rilke is a German who wrote in the early 1900's. "Be ahead of all parting, as though it were already behind you..."
I am moving out of the mountain cottage I've had for over 20 years. Due to my heart attack and having to cancel and cut back so much we are renting it to a wonderful couple. However, since I didn't see any of this coming I didn't follow my own belief of pre-grieving. I'm just grieving as I go.
Question: What or who or where do you need to "Be ahead of all parting"?
Yesterday I was reading this great novel The Poet of Tolstoy Park by a fellow Alabamian Sonny Brewer and in it he quoted one of my favorite poets who I'd read 30 years ago. Rilke is a German who wrote in the early 1900's. "Be ahead of all parting, as though it were already behind you..."
I am moving out of the mountain cottage I've had for over 20 years. Due to my heart attack and having to cancel and cut back so much we are renting it to a wonderful couple. However, since I didn't see any of this coming I didn't follow my own belief of pre-grieving. I'm just grieving as I go.
Question: What or who or where do you need to "Be ahead of all parting"?
Thursday, May 13, 2010
Some days the words come easy. Some days they don't come at all. Some days it is so easy to love and some days it is hard. Since my heart attack the words have been coming steadily even if not real creatively. And love and being loved is easier than it has ever been for me.
I wish it didn't take a crisis, an emergency room, a by-pass to make love easier. But that is what it took and I wouldn't take anything for it.
Question: What did it take to get you to take in the love that has been sent your way?
I wish it didn't take a crisis, an emergency room, a by-pass to make love easier. But that is what it took and I wouldn't take anything for it.
Question: What did it take to get you to take in the love that has been sent your way?
Wednesday, May 12, 2010
Expectations
Expectations are yet to be realized resentments. To ask for something--anything from another is one of the most courageous act we can perform. To let that act be linked to an expectation that they will do what you want, give you what you ask for is often the fastest way to feeling frustrated.
I found this out again first with the cardiologist in the emergency room 11 weeks ago and then again with my surgeon who performed the life-saving and life-changing by-pass surgery. I expected to be treated a certain way, spoken to a little more tenderly and cared for a bit more compassionately. None of which happened.
How much faster would I have healed if I could have attained the Nirvana like state, experienced Bliss or participated in the Grace of letting go of expectations? You got me?
Question: What expectations do you have of others that almost never are met?
I found this out again first with the cardiologist in the emergency room 11 weeks ago and then again with my surgeon who performed the life-saving and life-changing by-pass surgery. I expected to be treated a certain way, spoken to a little more tenderly and cared for a bit more compassionately. None of which happened.
How much faster would I have healed if I could have attained the Nirvana like state, experienced Bliss or participated in the Grace of letting go of expectations? You got me?
Question: What expectations do you have of others that almost never are met?
Tuesday, May 11, 2010
Thinking out Loud
I was thinking today that the way my wife puts dishes in the dishwasher (which is not my way) no longer bothers me. The fact that she could care less if the bed is made or not is no longer a big deal.
The fact that the clover is in bloom in the pastures that I pass on my drive today from our home in Central Alabama to my studio in the mountains of Alabama is a big deal. The mountain air I'm breathing in right now as I write this very short blog is so sweet I don't have words to describe it.
My dear friend, poet Robert Bly, has a line in one his poems that goes something like this, "Think that someone is about to give you something large..." I've been given something extremely large--another chance at life, another day or two or perhaps lots of days to not let little things bother me like they once did and let the really important ones really sink in and be fully felt.
Question: What little things still bother you that you wish didn't?
The fact that the clover is in bloom in the pastures that I pass on my drive today from our home in Central Alabama to my studio in the mountains of Alabama is a big deal. The mountain air I'm breathing in right now as I write this very short blog is so sweet I don't have words to describe it.
My dear friend, poet Robert Bly, has a line in one his poems that goes something like this, "Think that someone is about to give you something large..." I've been given something extremely large--another chance at life, another day or two or perhaps lots of days to not let little things bother me like they once did and let the really important ones really sink in and be fully felt.
Question: What little things still bother you that you wish didn't?
Monday, May 10, 2010
Fear and Love
Fear. I'm afraid I'm going to work too much. I'm afraid of getting too stressed. I'm afraid I'm going to get too tired. I'm afraid I'm going to have another heart attack.
I used not to not be afraid of any of the above and consequently I worked too much, got too stressed and way too tired. Maybe fear is not such a bad thing as long as I don't let it completely rule my life.
I'm not afraid about money, I'm not afraid that I won't write anything of importance and I'm not afraid that I am not loved. One thing this heart attack has done is put many things in perspective and shown me how much I am loved. I am so grateful.
Someone once said, I think it was Jerald Jampolsky, "there are only two emotions--Love and Fear." Well I have experienced and am experiencing both simultaneously. For the record fear is receding and love is becoming the true healer it really can be.
What are you still afraid of and what are you loving more and more the older you get?
I used not to not be afraid of any of the above and consequently I worked too much, got too stressed and way too tired. Maybe fear is not such a bad thing as long as I don't let it completely rule my life.
I'm not afraid about money, I'm not afraid that I won't write anything of importance and I'm not afraid that I am not loved. One thing this heart attack has done is put many things in perspective and shown me how much I am loved. I am so grateful.
Someone once said, I think it was Jerald Jampolsky, "there are only two emotions--Love and Fear." Well I have experienced and am experiencing both simultaneously. For the record fear is receding and love is becoming the true healer it really can be.
What are you still afraid of and what are you loving more and more the older you get?
Sunday, May 9, 2010
More Than 5 lbs.
I was told after my surgery not to pick up anything that weighed more than five pounds for the first eight to ten weeks. What I found out is that everything weighs more than five pounds--my laptop, garbage can, even my big black cat who kept getting in my recliner every time I got up is 16 pounds. I tried begging her to get off. I offered to pay her in catnip, she wouldn't do it. She looked at me like, "Do I look like a dog to you?"
You may be getting tired of this word "empathy" by now but when I had to ask small women at Wal-Mart to pick up boxes of cat litter for the same cat who could care less that she was in my seat, well let's just say I felt another wave of compassion for the elderly roll through my freshly cleaned out arteries.
Would your cat willingly give up its seat for you after surgery?
You may be getting tired of this word "empathy" by now but when I had to ask small women at Wal-Mart to pick up boxes of cat litter for the same cat who could care less that she was in my seat, well let's just say I felt another wave of compassion for the elderly roll through my freshly cleaned out arteries.
Would your cat willingly give up its seat for you after surgery?
Saturday, May 8, 2010
Taking My Heart Out For A Spin
My thoracic cavity was cracked open by a man I didn’t know. He put his hands in my chest while my heart continued beating with the help of a machine.
That changed me.
How? I’m only now beginning to find out.
Some people say I am more emotionally available. As one woman friend said, “When I saw you I didn’t recognize you.” I did lose some weight, but she went on to say “you seem more approachable.” Perhaps I lost some heaviness of spirit, some urgency to produce, some self-importance or seriousness. In the process I went from feeling strong and almost invincible to anything so mundane as a heart attack (after all they only happen to unhealthy, smoking, hard drinking, stressed out and overweight people or so I thought 6 months ago) to feeling fragile, highly breakable, extremely vulnerable and tentative about so much I would have formerly dove head first into.
Which way of being do I like best? I’d be lying if I said feeling fragile and vulnerable is a comfortable state, but do I want to go back?
I wouldn’t even if I could.
I just need to get used to not being recognized (in more ways than one) and become more familiar with this place where a simple thing like holding my wife’s hand while watching television is an ecstasy producing experience and a walk in the park with my two Giant Malamutes is as magical as it gets. It may take awhile but hopefully I now have a little time that I wouldn’t have had if that man hadn’t taken my heart out for a spin.
What has taken your heart and turned it around?
That changed me.
How? I’m only now beginning to find out.
Some people say I am more emotionally available. As one woman friend said, “When I saw you I didn’t recognize you.” I did lose some weight, but she went on to say “you seem more approachable.” Perhaps I lost some heaviness of spirit, some urgency to produce, some self-importance or seriousness. In the process I went from feeling strong and almost invincible to anything so mundane as a heart attack (after all they only happen to unhealthy, smoking, hard drinking, stressed out and overweight people or so I thought 6 months ago) to feeling fragile, highly breakable, extremely vulnerable and tentative about so much I would have formerly dove head first into.
Which way of being do I like best? I’d be lying if I said feeling fragile and vulnerable is a comfortable state, but do I want to go back?
I wouldn’t even if I could.
I just need to get used to not being recognized (in more ways than one) and become more familiar with this place where a simple thing like holding my wife’s hand while watching television is an ecstasy producing experience and a walk in the park with my two Giant Malamutes is as magical as it gets. It may take awhile but hopefully I now have a little time that I wouldn’t have had if that man hadn’t taken my heart out for a spin.
What has taken your heart and turned it around?
Friday, May 7, 2010
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?
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?
Thursday, May 6, 2010
Empathy: Part II
I had been cooped up in the house suffering from cabin fever after 4 weeks of recovering from the by-pass. My dear friend Bill Rutledge offered to drive me to Wal-mart to pick up my prescriptions. All day long I looked forward to his arrival and the drive out into the cool air and his company. By the time we got to the store all I could think about is this must be how many elderly folks feel when their son, daughter, niece, nephew or friend comes to take them to church or shopping--anywhere. This small thing was a huge event for me and perhaps it is for them as well.
I'm pretty sure Bill didn't recognize what an important service he was performing and I'm sure that you probably didn't either if you've ever done something so seemingly simple.
The great poet/country singer John Prine has a song about "old people" with a powerful line that goes something like, "...don't stop and stare. Say hello in there..."
Question? Have you said "hello in there?" lately?
I'm pretty sure Bill didn't recognize what an important service he was performing and I'm sure that you probably didn't either if you've ever done something so seemingly simple.
The great poet/country singer John Prine has a song about "old people" with a powerful line that goes something like, "...don't stop and stare. Say hello in there..."
Question? Have you said "hello in there?" lately?
Wednesday, May 5, 2010
Empathy
I define "empathy" this way: "I understand some of what you are going through because I've been through similar experiences myself."
On the 4th week after my quadruple by-pass, that I still can't believe I had, I very tentatively ventured out to get a haircut. The barber is about a ten minute drive from my our house. It was the first time I had driven in a little over a month. I was terrified. What if I had a wreck and the air bag popped out and hit my chest? What if I had a flat tire? What if some young thing ran me off the road? Then it hit me, this must be what the really elderly must feel every time they drive to Wal-Mart or to their pharmacy or wherever they have to go at the same speed I was traveling at--super slow.
That one short drive changed me. It opened my fragile heart just a little more. I went from being the person who was always impatient with the old person slowing down the rest of humanity (that is putting it mildly)and became a man who will never blow his horn (or at least will try really hard not to) at one of seniors again. I can empathize finally.
What has increased your ability to be more empathetic than you used to be?
On the 4th week after my quadruple by-pass, that I still can't believe I had, I very tentatively ventured out to get a haircut. The barber is about a ten minute drive from my our house. It was the first time I had driven in a little over a month. I was terrified. What if I had a wreck and the air bag popped out and hit my chest? What if I had a flat tire? What if some young thing ran me off the road? Then it hit me, this must be what the really elderly must feel every time they drive to Wal-Mart or to their pharmacy or wherever they have to go at the same speed I was traveling at--super slow.
That one short drive changed me. It opened my fragile heart just a little more. I went from being the person who was always impatient with the old person slowing down the rest of humanity (that is putting it mildly)and became a man who will never blow his horn (or at least will try really hard not to) at one of seniors again. I can empathize finally.
What has increased your ability to be more empathetic than you used to be?
Tuesday, May 4, 2010
Opening The Heart: A Beginning
"In order to get where you want to go you have to accept where you really are." I've said this to many people over the years. It is time for me to do it again. I had a heart attack 10 weeks ago and a quadruple by-pass surgery. I was the last on my list of people and last on a lot of people's list to have heart attack. I wasn't super healthy but I exercised regularly, watched what I ate, didn't smoke or drink but I also didn't take into consideration my family history and the genetic component. I hope you will.
This blog is ultimately going to be about how you and I can open our hearts more fully to life, love, experience, art, creativity, health, healing and much more. But it is also going to be about, at least at first, my personal attempts to process this huge life change and perhaps help you in some small ways with your own life changes, transitions, losses and successes.
So here's a question for you to consider and hopefully post your answer/response/stories/insights: How did you come through your most recent "high growth experience"?
In my next blog post I will tell you a little about how I did.
Thanks for the connection.
John Lee
This blog is ultimately going to be about how you and I can open our hearts more fully to life, love, experience, art, creativity, health, healing and much more. But it is also going to be about, at least at first, my personal attempts to process this huge life change and perhaps help you in some small ways with your own life changes, transitions, losses and successes.
So here's a question for you to consider and hopefully post your answer/response/stories/insights: How did you come through your most recent "high growth experience"?
In my next blog post I will tell you a little about how I did.
Thanks for the connection.
John Lee
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