I win

A very few hours from the time I write this will mark the moment at which my life changed course. Early on the morning of April 1st, after many hours together and many kisses exchanged, I told Megan that I wanted us to see one another exclusively. She agreed.

The next day, she greeted me by saying: I just realized that it was after midnight; was that an April Fool's joke?

Cruel.

Fourteen years since that time have seen many, many things. The moments that we couldn't be less compatible blend seamlessly into the moments in which we are clearly perfect for eachother. I know for sure that I adore her; that my love for her makes me stronger than I truly am, better than I thought I could be, and acutely aware of how far short I fall.

She is grace and truth. She is light and beauty. She is compassion and love. She is impossibly frustrating and the only person for whom I will jump through a hoop. The only one. It is she that I respect and it is through her respect for others that I have learned down these years to find beauty in the human condition. Without her example, I would be trapped in bitter potential unfulfilled. With her as my beacon, my life has been filled with the beauty of those around me; beauty that I had not learned to see before she showed me.

Because of her, I can joke without tearing someone else down. Because of her, I am not mean-spirited. Because of her, I do not hit my children. Because of her, I do not hit my wife. Because of her, I appreciate others. Because of her, I can be proud of what I have done. Because of her, I know I can.

It was a big chance that she took on me. Very big; and because she took it, I win.

I win.

On a fine spring day

Catching the snowflakes

My daughter went to visit a friend. My son and I, with only eachother to keep company, whiled away the early evening. He said to me, quite matter-of-factly, "Dad, I'm going to fire you and give you a new job teaching other people like you teach me."

No one can make me feel more wonderful than my kids.

Be well.

FYI

Some of my friends who have been there tell me that it's much more fulfilling to do what you love for less pay than it is to get paid well to do something that's just a job.

Some days, I'd like to know the difference for myself.

Today was one of those days.

Here's to more strength to fight the good fight.

Be well.

All we are saying

Did you put aside one of your "isms" and give peace a chance today?

The most effective way to give peace a chance is to think more of them, and less of you.

To think less of you, you must be comfortable in your own skin.

To be comfortable in your own skin, you must exorcise your demons.

To exorcise your demons, you must recognize yourself.

To recognize yourself, you must see the good and the bad.

To see the good and the bad, you must open up your eyes.

To open up your eyes, is to know that you and I are not that different.

To know that you and I are not that different, is to put aside our "isms" and give peace a chance.

That's all we are saying.

Be well.

Mixed

Today I'm mixed. Mixed in thought, mixed in response, mixed in understanding.

Last night I volunteered for an overnight stay at the local homeless shelter. I suppose the hour-and-a-half of sleep is contributing to my mixed feelings, as well.

I come away from this experience feeling a whole lot of different things.

First, people are generous. Any number of people have given time, money, food goods, linens and countless other items to provide a place out of the elements for those who have no home.

Second, I'm thankful. I have a home. I have skills to barter in order to pay for a home. I've never been homeless. I talk overmuch about bad experiences I DID have--but we were never homeless. I know that my grandfather gets a lot of credit for helping out when times were bad, but it occurs to me that there are probably anonymous church folks hiding in the fabric of that story as well. I'm confident in this because I've been an adult long enough (not to mention in the business of philanthropy) that I can recognize the staggering number of acts of kindness that are carried out daily without any credit being requested. I'm just certain that kind people, people I speak to in the grocery store, stepped in to help my family when we were in need. Whatever my philosophical differences with them are today, I am thankful for their kindness.

Third, I know a con-artist when I see one. There was an apparent theft at the shelter and it stings to see people who have next to nothing also be robbed of their ability to trust others.

Fourth, I recognize that I am suspicious of people and their motives. I think I've always been this way. I think it must be a deep-seated insecurity of some kind.

I'm sure I'll have other thoughts, but my tired mind is having trouble tracking.

Be well.

Idle hands

On the day of an earthquake, a flood, a tornado, a hurricane, no one stands at a gate and checks faith statements for suitability; there is much help that needs to be given, and much to do that is right.

Yet our concept of heaven, what we believe to be the origin of all that is helpful and right, is one of a gate and an oral exam; for some literal, for others figurative, but very real. There was a gate that promised "Arbeit Macht Frei," but lied. There were the literacy tests that disenfranchised black Americans. There were swimming tests through which only failure could prove one was not a witch. I don't subscribe to gates and tests.

When my hands and my heart are busy doing the work that is helpful and right, I cannot find the time to damn those who work with me.

Would that it were always so.

Be well.

One of my favorite things

There's a certain look that a woman will give to her lover that is unabashed, unfiltered, and unprotected.

Very often this look is one her partner doesn't see. But watching a woman view her lover through the eyes of love is one of my favorite human moments.

Men have looks they give to their lovers as well, but being an admirer of "the woman" as I am, it's the look of love on a woman's face that makes me glad to be alive.

Occasionally, with the explosion of photography today, you'll find this look captured in a photo.

Mostly though, it's a look she saves for the moments she's proud to be in love with her lover. A look that she really didn't mean for anyone; a moment of pure love.

And it's one of my favorite things.

Be well.

My daughter, the great person

I always assumed that Maggie would naturally gravitate to the stage. Megan and I met as theatre majors, are both gregarious, and lack for stage fright.

Maggie has always had a flair for the dramatic, has put on plays as a constant part of life, loves the theatre, and has been in a few of Megan's shows.

But in the last five-ish years, when given the option and the means, Maggie declines to audition for plays. She says she's nervous about performing in front of people. This is perfectly fine, but surprising to me.

So when one of her good friends DID take the opportunity to audition for a major show, and auditioned well, for some reason I wondered how Maggie would feel. Would she think things like, "My mom's a theatre director, it should be ME who does things like that," or "If I don't do this, does it mean I CAN'T do it?"

I should never have worried.

Maggie is kind, she is comfortable, she is a good friend.

When we told her about her friend's successful auditions, her only heartfelt response was "YAY!"

My daughter, the great person.