https://youtu.be/SQuyCc1Cuac
So just what is in your
L U N C H B O X. . .
Maybe the bigger question is:
just
what
are
you
w i l l i n g
t o
s h a r e. . .
and the greatest question yet:
A R E Y O U ?
When Humility Dials a Phone
Sometimes it happens to
M E. . .
Y o u ?
Sometimes my inner and outer
Caring Catalyst
gets scabbed over
o k. . .
C A L L O U S E D
and then it gets
s o f t e n e d
with the
s i m p l e s t
the most
s i g n i f i c a n t
things:
A mere phone call. . .
I hadn’t heard from him in a long time–
y e a r s
We had been colleagues
but never close
and never social. . .
we might have seen each other across the room
at a conference or a luncheon presentation
but neither would make a move to meet
in the middle. . .
an acquaintance
nothing more
maybe even
l e s s
and then
I had heard recently after giving a presentation
at a local hospital
that he had suffered a severe stroke. . .
I think I reached out
benignly
via a FaceBook Instant Message
that I was thinking of him and wishing him the best
and then. . .
h o n e s t l y
I f o r g o t a b o u t him. . .
When the cell phone rang
I didn’t recognize the number
but I broke my rule of answering a
number I didn’t recognize
and it was him. . .
He quickly identified himself
and even before I could say
h e l l o
or ask him how he was doing
he was apologizing. . .
asking forgiveness for
not keeping in touch
talking about me behind my back
not being supportive when he knew I had been going through a particularly tough professional situation. . .
and then through broken sobs
he was asking if I and everyone I knew
could pray for his healing—
not his complete healing from the stroke,
just a partial healing that would allow him to play his music
on the piano and guitar
he often did for patients and families
and with a jazz group he would jam with
on Friday nights. . .
the scab gave loose. . .
the callous
s o f t e n d
Sometimes it happens to me. . .
y o u ?
Sometimes my inner and outer
Caring Catalyst
gets scabbed
ok. . .
C A L L O U S E D;
Has that happened to you?
When was the last time?
Me?
It happened when
Humility Dialed A Phone
and
I
a n s w e r e d
the scab gave loose
the callous–
softened. . .
Me. . . ?
h u m b l y
c h a n g e d
B I K E D
I’ve got a mouth that belongs in the Circus.
For as long as I’ve talked, I’ve loved to talk. . .
from A-B-C’s to Abstracts. . .
from simple syllables to significant stories,
I love the written word—spoken.
I’ve made my livelihood with my mouth, from sermons to speaking engagements to Life Celebrations, Memorial Services, Keynotes, Workshops, Weddings, Commitment Ceremonies, Master of Ceremonies, Small groups, Leadership Training Series to Counseling sessions to simple phone calls to 1 on 1 conversations.
My mouth has taken me to many different places and put me in front of a lot of Eclectic audiences,
but one of my favorite of late, without any hesitations,
was at Lake Erie Harley-Davidson Sales Company for
T H E B L E S S I N G O F T H E B I K E S
I unfortunately met Mike Stevens a couple of years ago when his father George, who had been the proud owner of Lake Erie Harley-Davidson, died of a heart attack.
I was honored to conduct George’s service which included an awesome tribute of a motorcycle procession to the cemetery.
Because of a prior commitment,
I wasn’t able to participate in the Blessing of the Bikes in 2014,
but was so honored that Mike didn’t forget me and booked me to be there
the last two years
and then again this year on May 13, 2017
There was not a cloud in the sky and it’s blueness served as a perfect backdrop for a
perfect Sun and all of it’s warm rays. . .
there would be no fear
that this beautiful morning
would be more of a Baptism than a Blessing,
in fact,
the only thing that outshone the Sun
was the multitude of warmth and brightness
by those who came to have a complimentary pancake breakfast before
a brief meditation. . .
and standing proudly by their Bikes
before heading out on their various treks.
“There’s a huge ROCK that you can’t help but to see when you pull into this Dealership. It represents a man, George Stevens, the foundation for this Company and more, the one who has brought countless people together. . .and still is. The Road promises us nothing, in fact, it almost always guarantees lots of danger and uncertainty, but it offers up a Creed where the Law is Love and the Gospel is Peace…Ride Well…Ride Safe…,”
I offered up before going to each bike and individually blessing it and its Rider(s).
I usually asked each bike owner how many miles they had on their bikes and no matter what their answer,
I would offer,
“And yet the best miles are those still yet to be ridden. . .No matter what roads you go down or come back up, from the most dangerous to the most comforting, may you be blessed to bless those you’ll undoubtably meet. . . .”
A 68 year old lady who as ready to saddle up for a day of riding told me that she never felt more alive than when she was riding.
Another lady told me that this was a Sanctuary on two-wheels; that she felt truly worshipful and the Presence while riding.
A man, eyes filled with tears told me that he only had gotten his bike because it was his dying wife’s last wish for him and he now rides every mile not for her, but with her;
A proud grandfather stood beside his bike with his small grandson by his side and proudly said, “This is his, he’s just letting me ride it for a little while longer. . .”
Couples, Ladies, Men, Young, Old
and all in between were there to show
intensely that Road before them
was for the Riding and the Living. . .
I was being accompanied to each bike by Lori, who literally had an offering bag, where the riders gave donations for Hospice of the Western Reserve.
I got B I K E D that day in a most intimate way.
B l e s s o r B l e s s e d
is there a distinction?
Uh. . .not THAT Saturday,
not for those couple of hours in the Sun
where the Sun was even more
magnificently manufactured
and much more pure because of it. . .
A Community came together
and He-Who-Was-First-Created was very Present;
A Journey wasn’t begun that morning,
only Continued in a most profound way
and the hummmmmm of the Engines
was really a Symphony of
H E A R T B E A T S
A b r a c a d a b r a a w e s o m e l y h e a l i n g
( S t i l l i s )
PUNCTUATED
Hurt people hurt people. . .
especially themselves
I don’t keep those statistics. . .
over thirty-six years I don’t know how many Celebrations of Life I’ve conducted of those who have committed suicide. . .
Personally, I find only still-born or infant/children Celebrations of Life more difficult to do and
. . .to understand.
He literally kept his truck running as he pulled into a parking lot near a bridge and ran to it, full force, until reaching the middle and then without hesitation he hurled himself over the edge to the 200 foot plunge to a ravine below.
W H Y ?
She had just had a long, but painful relationship come to an end. She ran herself a bath, lined the tub with candles and framed pictures of them–dances, weddings, New Year’s Eve parties, vacations, the recently passed Christmas, kissing under a sprig of Mistletoe they both held above their heads. A CD they had compiled was playing as she laid back in the warm water and slit her wrists and ankles.
W H Y ?
She received a diagnosis of not just cancer, but cancer that has in fact, metastasized but decided not to let the disease take her life when she could control, the how, the when and the where. . .and did with some meds that she stockpiled and went to bed, to sleep forever one snowy night.
W H Y ?
Straw is lighter than a whisper without a breeze
. . .unless it’s the last one. . .
the one that makes whatever load born now incredibly
u n b e a r a b l e
Such a piece of hay was his
as he faced yet one more strand of straw with the news of possible incarceration
and he walked in front of an oncoming train.
W H Y ?
The studies will tell you that 90% of the people are dealing with a mental illness at the time of their death.
In the end,
because there is the end,
it really doesn’t matter if it’s because of depression or psychosis,
or an impulse,
or a crying out for help,
or a philosophical desire to die or because of terrible mistake made. . .
there’s an end;
I’ve just recently come across an idea I’d never heard or seen before
that spoke to me not so much in words, but
p u n c t u a t i o n. . .
It’s called:
THE PUNCTUATION PROJECT
and it’s purpose is the use the semicolon when a sentence could have ended
. . .but didn’t;
The movement is for anyone who has ever self-harmed
has a personality disorder
or has tried to kill themselves.
The semicolon is being used as a sign,
a symbol of hope.
It’s s h o u t i n g out:
“YOUR SENTENCE IS NOT OVER YET!”
The movement seems to be catching on because,
obviously it’s not just a Robin Williams-like celebrity that commits suicide;
Many are getting it ‘inked’ on their wrists or other parts of their bodies.
;
I think it’s growing on me. . .
this semicolon symbol. . .
and if it just allows one. . .
j u s t o n e
person to keep their sentence moving,
well then. . .
Mother Theresa once said:
“THERE IS MORE HUNGER IN THE WORLD FOR LOVE AND APPRECIATION THAN FOR BREAD.”
Indeed. . .
the World is one hungry place. . .
but you have all the food necessary to feed one
or all carrying that one, single,
devastating piece of straw.
It just may be a phone call,
whether one made to you or the one you share at the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline at 1-800-273-8255
or share: suicidepreventionlifeline.org.
There is no greater sentence in anyone’s book more powerful than the one that’s lived;
punctuated with exclamation points of
love,
acceptance,
compassion
and understanding—
all within your DNA.
H e a l e d p e o p l e h e a l e d p e o p l e
A Better Place
Are you in a
B E T T E R P L A C E
because of
S O M E O N E
literally
created it
and put
you
in the
heart of
T H A T
v e r y
B E T T E R P L A C E
Maybe the biggest question:
Are you the
s o l e
r e a s o n
S O M E O N E
is
in
a
b e t t e r p l a c e ?
I’ll tell the world, I’ll sing a song,
It’s a better place since you came along
Your touch is sunlight
through the trees
Your kisses are the ocean breeze
Everything’s alright when you’re with me
And I hold my favorite thing
I hold the love that you bring
But it feels like I’ve opened my eyes again
And the colors are golden and bright again
There’s a song in my heart, I feel like I belong
It’s a better place since you came along
I see the whole world in your eyes
It’s like I’ve known you all my life
We just feel so right
So I pour my heart into your hands
It’s like you really understand
You love the way I am. . .
Maybe if we were to sit across from
e a c h ‘ s
o t h e r
and do nothing
n o t o n e t h i n g
but just look
into one another’s
e y e s
we’d not just see
those we love
d i f f e r e n t l y. . .
I M A G I N E
if we were to sit
across from those
who have
hurt us
disappointed us
mocked us
disrespected us
intentionally went out of their ways
to feel each of those things
in utterly devastating ways
countless times
o v e r
would it be the same kind of
lyric
or even more
l i f e
c h a n g i n g ?
Dare to find out. . .
u n b l i n k i n g l y ?
Your Compassion Fingerprint
WHAT’S IN IT FOR ME ?
It’s a question asked by many. . .
by me. . .
by you. . .
b y u s.
It’s really asked when it comes to
being kind,
being compassionate,
not o n c e,
but time and again and again,
over and over.
HOW MANY TIMES IS ENOUGH?
WHEN’S IT OUR TURN?
WHY NOT US?
All good questions,
but can we just take a deep breath,
no. . .
go ahead and take three deep breaths in a row,
holding each one for about five seconds
and then letting them all the way out real slowly. . .
P A U S E
And reframe the Questions
to just one single
o n e:
W h y P r a c t i c e C o m p a s s i o n ?
The scientific research is really starting to pile up
and it all dramatically points to what you might have felt
but now can fully experience.
The benefits of being
C o m p a s s i o n a t e,
literally,
can improve your health,
well-being,
and relationships,
both your intimate,
close ones as well the fringe friendships. . .
Many scientists are even telling us that Compassion may even be vital to the survival of our species and through actual dedicated, intentional practice, these benefits can literally be
off the charts !
The Compassion Research is telling us:
- Compassion makes us feel good: a compassionate act activates pleasure circuits in the brain.
- Being Compassionate–tuning in to other people in a kind and loving ways can actually reduce the risk of heart disease by boosting the positive effects of the Vargus Nerve, which helps to slow our heart rate.
- Brain scans during loving-kindness meditation, which directs compassion toward suffering, suggest that, on average, compassionate people’s minds wander less about what’s gone wrong in their lives or what might go wrong in the future, making them happier.
- Brain scans also show that when people experience compassion, their brains activate in neural systems to support parental nurturance–they become better parents.
- Compassion helps make people better spouses; they’re more optimistic and supportive when communicating with others.
- Compassion helps make better friends.
- Employees who receive more compassion in their workplace see themselves, their co-workers, and their organization in a more positive light, report feeling more positive emotions like joy and contentment, and are more committed to their jobs.
- Compassionate people are more socially adept, making them less vulnerable to loneliness; loneliness has been shown to cause stress and hare the immune system.
So. . .
WHAT’S IN IT FOR ME?
Hmmmmmmmmmm. . .
it seems,
not one thing. . .
It’s m a n y things!
Pssssssssssssssssst:
N E V E R T R U S T T H E S C I E N C E !
Use yourself as your own private lab experiment. . .
Test it for yourself.
What have you got to lose?
Ummmmmmmmmmm:
Just being
L E S S C O M P A S S I O N A T E !
UnCleaned Windows
Edward Wallace Hoch
got it right:
THERE IS SO MUCH GOOD IN THE WORST OF US,
AND SO MUCH BAD IN THE BEST OF US,
THAT IT HARDLY BECOMES ANY OF US
TO TALK ABOUT
THE REST OF US
I have a strong belief that I’ve always been born to live in a Condo. . .
No shoveling snow
No cutting grass
No planting flowers
No mulching
No pruning trees
No cutting hedges
No raking leaves
No sweeping sidewalks
No watering
No outside painting
No gutter cleaning
No washing windows. . .
Well, maybe washing some windows, huh?
I suppose I could hire someone to clean the Condo
and do the windows
but would it be done perfectly?
I still remember one of the chores I had around my grandmother’s house when I lived with her during college was to kind of do all of those things, especially cleaning the windows. . .
Window Cleaning was done twice a year. . .
Definitely in the Spring
and usually that last nice day of Fall
(when I wanted to be watching Football instead)
I was given my paper towels
and a special formula that made Windex jealous. . .
After the Ladder was set up,
I ascended towards the Heavens
to make the view crystal clear. . .
And I made
T H A T
trip several times;
There were a lot of windows
and I most assuredly
had the impeccable gift of being able to
S T R E A K
magnificently every single one of them;
Alas,
it was the gift I was cursed to possess. . .
So,
though the job was required for me to complete bi-annually,
it would seem that it took me the months in between
to actually Accomplish–
Such was the keen,
ever JUDGING eye
of my grandmother. . .
I could never quite figure out how she,
with cataracts,
and often in need of glasses,
could spot a
S T R E A K
with her eyes closed;
I hated it then. . .
And owning a house now,
I detest it still–
though I rarely do the Windows
T H A T
often or under the not-so=harsh judgment
of Erin’s
Laser Vision Corrected Surgery. . .
W H E W
Funny though,
even with an ample dose of my Grandmother’s DNA,
I don’t have the window-cleaning gene
strongly inherent in me. . .
Funnier still,
I have a huge amount of
M A R Y
in me. . .
I always seem to have a not-so-poetic way of pointing out
WHAT’S WRONG WITH SOMEONE ELSE’S WASH
without much noticing
the dirt and streaks on my own Windows. . .
Hmmmmmmmmmmmm of the Day:
Maybe it’s not which window
I look out of at all
so much as which
M I R R O R
I’m actually standing. . .
Wait. . .
I think I see a Spot. . .
Y o u ?
Compassion 101
T H E Y
. . .say that Class is always in Session,
but it really does make a difference
as to which one,
doesn’t it?
C O M P A S S I O N 1 0 1 :
The understanding and application of what it means to
“S u f f e r W I T H”
a n o t h e r ;
to learn and then to apply
the feeling that arises
when one is confronted with another’s suffering
and likewise
t h e n
being motivated to relieve that suffering
in a single distinct
or varied ways. . .
Are you signing up?
Is it required
FOR YOU–
D O Y O U N E E D IT ?
What would your final project include?
Would you
Pass/Fail?
Up until now,
not a whole lot
was
s c i e n t i f i c a l l y
known about our potential
or possibility to actually create compassion—
the emotional state of caring for people
who are suffering in a way
that motivates a more caring behavior for others.
W E L L . .
Researchers at the Center for Investigating Healthy Minds
at the Waisman Center of the University of Wisconsin-Madison
actually proves that people can become more compassionate.
T h e y
had the SPECIMENS practice compassion,
first on a loved one,
then someone like a friend,
and then for themselves
and then someone they actually had past conflict with
like a troublesome co-worker.
T h e y
actually surmised that people can actually build up their
c o m p a s s i o n m u s c l e
and respond to other’s suffering
with care and a sincere desire to help;
So. . .
I F
you are in particular need of some training
or at least a good refresher
you can actually go to the
Center for Investigating Healthy Minds
website and Compassion on UP. . .
O R
we could just actually be more compassionate. . .
on our own. . .
on purpose. . .
intentionally!
How?
Dare to assume,
yes,
actually on purpose,
intentionally,
wholeheartedly
‘that every person you have contact with,
every day
on every occasion
just actually might be having the worst day of their lives. . .
Seriously, if you treated every person that way–
as if they were having their worst day,
suffered a terrible loss,
found out horrific personal news–
you don’t think you would be more compassionate
and that in fact,
they wouldn’t severely benefit?
It’ll cost you little
to hold a door,
pick up a dropped piece of paper or book,
compliment a hairstyle or a pair of glasses,
a shirt,
pay for the cup of coffee for the one behind you,
throw a quarter in the parking meter,
pass a tissue,
wash a car windshield
or being as anonymously creative as you can let yourself imagine. . .
Hmmmmmmm of the day:
Y O U W I L L F E E L B E T T E R A N D B E N E F I T !
Psssssssssssst:
There’s a study to prove it
. . . or you can actually find out on your own;
Don’t decide to be more Compassionate. . .
Just one person,
one act,
one deed at a time,
d o i t .
And then. . .
just better yourself,
beat your own record every day,
by doing just one more kind act than yesterday. . .
W O W
Look at that Compassion Muscle,
F l e x !
Impressive!
See you at the Blackboard, Class
A True VICTOR
Are you a Victim
or a
V I C T O R ?
Or just a
Chuck,
Erin,
Sam,
Henry,
Danica,
Johnny,
Joe,
an Anybody. . .
Somebody. . .
Nobody. . . ?
About once a month we get free buffets at the Horseshoe Casino
Great Dinner. . .
but the
S E R V I C E
was way beyond ordinary;
V i c t o r
He seated us
and poured out ice teas
and then gave us some complimentary bottled waters. . .
He got real excited when he announced
that he had something very special for us,
and he even more excited
when he brought some special made appetizers. . .
did I mention that this was a b u f f e t
and not some Four-Star restaurant?
He brought us back fancy desserts
that weren’t up on the dessert tray. . .
He couldn’t be more accommodating and kind;
He got a little embarrassed
when I asked him about himself
and how long he had been working here at the casino. . .
He said he loved
w a i t i n g
on people
and that we had been great people to serve. . .
W O W
I was watching the other servers,
but no one was running around like Victor. . .
No one was giving
who they were serving
anything e x t r a. . .
I even saw a few roll their eyes
when someone had left them a less than satisfactory tip. . .
Victor was a most excellent
S E R V E R
A True Caring Catalyst
I gave him a huge tip that night. . .
He was very grateful and very surprised;
I told him that he was most excellent and he
m a d e
our night extra ordinary. . .
I have him a big tip
but he had given me a
t i p
much larger
and even more significant:
S E R V E P E O P L E
MORE THAN THE EXPECT OR DESERVE
WITHOUT ANY EXPECTATION OF ANYTHING IN RETURN
He made me ask a question
a r e a l q u e s t i o n:
Am I more of a
V i c t i m
or a
V I C T O R ?
Victor showed me that no matter what Color
No matter what your Race,
No matter what your Creed,
No matter what your Gender,
No matter what your political Persuasion,
You can still serve others by serving in the best way possible;
Victor showed me that it’s not about
doing for others as you would have them do unto you
so much as serving others as they would like
in a most perfect way. . .
Victor s h o w e d
that it’s not about giving people what they deserve,
it’s about just giving to others
j u s t b e c a u s e
Are you?
Are you more
A Victim
or
A V i c t o r?
Psssssssssssssst:
S H O W M E. . .
better still
S H O W O T H E R S
(lots of them)
o f t e n
https://youtu.be/b-xScLIevw0
LOVE HAS NO LABELS. . .
if that were
ONLY T R U E
if that were
ONLY THE NORM
and not the
n o n s t a n a r d
Love Has No Labels
is a movement to open our eyes to there unconscious bias. . .
While the vast majority of Americans
consider themselves
UNPREJUDICED
many of us unintentionally make snap judgements
about people
based on what we see–
whether it’s
race
age
gender
religion
sexuality
or disability
By becoming aware of our own
b i a s e s
WE can work to end bias
in ourselves,
our families
our friends
our communities. . .
Hmmmmmmmmm of the DAY:
WE NEED AN ORGANIZED MOVEMENT
to show us we need
LOVE WITH NO LABELS
Let’s make it this Simple:
Challenge that;
Inspire that;
Mirror that;
Share that;
B E T H A T
(not often)
A L L – W A Y S !
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