The Caring Catalyst

Who Cares - What Matters

Sharing The Magic

By Leave a Comment

We are not all professional magicians, are we?

Are last names don’t end with Houdini, or Copperfield, or even Anderson–as in Rob who is featured in the video.

But…even if we’re not professional magicians, or even not so professional, or at the very, very least, a bad magician we all still have a M A G I C about us that can undeniably be shared and benefited.

She’s not yet 7 although it’s just within days. Stella was doing one of her absolute favorite things to do in the Summer: Swim!

One of her favorite perks of Swimming at the Pool is BREAK TIME…Fifteen Minutes every hour. . .AKA: CONCESSION STAND TIME.

Stella is a magician who probably will never play in Vegas or even in a Backyard Fair. Part of her MAGIC is making friends, drawing them in and playing with kids who have no one else to really play. She had met a ‘Friend’ since the last CONCESSION STAND TIME.

Stella went to her grandmother to get money for CONCESSION STAND TIME and was asked to bring back the change. She bought a Pretzel with Cheese Dip and on the way back her new friend said she was hungry and asked if she could have money to buy a snack.

W A T C H I T…it’s that slight of hand that often never gets noticed, but where all the Magic takes place.

Stella gave her the change she had left…all $5.00 of it.

M A G I C….

But this Magic was quickly fleeting. As soon as Stella returned with her snack and WITHOUT CHANGE, her grandmother didn’t yell at her or make fun of her, in fact, she actually praised her by saying what a kind thing she had done, but her sister and friends DIDN’T. They told her how wrong to give a comptete stranger any money, let alone, $5.00. They even wanted ‘the friend’ pointed out so they could go and put her in her place and get the GIFT/MAGIC back…it was too late…the MAGIC, like a Vapor vanished quickly…it usually does if not protected, nurtured, celebrated.

The Abracadabra left quicker than the lingering smoke of a blown out candle.

COMPASSION doesn’t ask, “WHERE’S THE MAGIC?”

COMPASSION just wonders, OUT LOUD, “AM I STEALING OR SHARING THE MAGIC?”

COMPASSION doesn’t require an answer but won’t cover up the reply.

COMPASSION just like MAGIC means very little and in fact, are just words!

COMPASSION and MAGIC come through in vivid, living color, only when they become VERBS–

ENDLESS ONES!

Bring a little A B R A C A D A B R A to Every One’s day!

And then be unbelievably Amazed by what DISAPPEARS. . .

…and Appears right before Your Eyes!

Your Mission

By Leave a Comment

images

Happy 4th of July.

It’s a great Holiday…family get-togthers, picnics, Fairs, Festivals, cook-outs, swimming, games, car shows, merry-go-rounds, ferris-wheels, fireworks, carney food, and questions. . .maybe the truth?

I can’t believe that it’s already been about 16 years since SAVING PRIVATE RYAN first came to the screen.

Remember it?

Tom Hanks portrays an Army Captain whose unit is assigned to find a Private named Ryan in the dangerous aftermath of the D-Day Invasion. Ryan’s brothers have both been killed in combat, and, unbeknownst to him, he is his mother’s only surviving son. THE MISSION IS A MAN. It involves the Captain’s unit in brutal battles with the Germans. But Private Ryan is located and his life is saved by his Captain who dies in the process. As Private Ryan attends to his mortally wounded rescuer, the Captain speaks his last words in a hoarse whisper–“EARN THIS.” The Camera merges from the young Private’s face to the face of an old man, standing by a white cross in the cemetery at Normandy. It is Ryan many years later, near the end of his life. He kneels by his Captain’s grave and says, “EVERY DAY OF MY LIFE, I’VE THOUGHT ABOUT WHAT YOU SAID TO ME THAT DAY ON THE BRIDGE. I’VE DONE MY BEST. I HOPE AT LEAST IN YOUR EYES THAT I’VE LIVED UP TO ALL YOU GAVE FOR ME.”

Happy 4th of July.

You and I don’t need to endure some War to be grateful. To live in TRUE GRATITUDE we just have to simply remember that a lot of people FROM EVERY BRANCH OF LIFE have sacrificed to bring you to where you are. We can never squander their Gift…and it’s never too late to recapture what can never truly be lost, but OFTEN FORGOTTEN.

What. . .

WHO is your Mission?

Careful…be very, very careful.

The answer to THAT question–the ultimate WHAT or WHO–not only tells about your truest Mission, but defines your truest Self.

Happy 4th of July.

Your Mission:

To make a Happy 5th, 6th, 27th of July or any other day of the 364, Significant for ANOTHER. . .

Each Time. . .

Every Time!

Do you accept YOUR MISSION?

Foul Ball

By Leave a Comment

images-1

Forty-Five years is a long time. . .but sometimes, not long enough.

July 2, 1969.

45 years ago to the day.

The Kid was 13…he still had about a month to his 14th Birthday.

His grandparents rented a Summer camp and it was the holiday weekend. There were lots of families, guests, relatives, cookouts, snipe hunting, hide-and-seeking, fishing, swimming and softball.

The Big Softball game.

The Staff (the older folks)

VS

The Stuff (the kids and everybody else).

He bought the Kid his first ball and showed him how to use it

He bought the Kid his first glove and showed him how to use it.

He bought the Kid his first bat and showed him how to use it.

The Kid was up to bat and HE was pitching.

The first pitch was way to high.

The Kid laughed and taunted him.

The second pitch was outside.

The Kid laughed and taunted him.

The third pitch was perfect. It was like a huge Beach ball coming towards him. He saw every seam of THAT Softball. He saw every stitch–all 88 of them.

The Kid hit the ball harder than anything he’s ever hit.

It was solid and it rocketed off his bat–fast–straight up the middle and hit HIM in the side. . . .

Ruptured Spleen. . .Surgery. . .Cancer found. . .ICU. . .Coma. . .Unresponsive. . .Dead.

A siren was never heard the same way again.

The Kid always thought that every one, every single shrill siren he heard, was coming after him…for The Murder.

There was no Dr Phil back in 1969. No Adolescent Psychologists. No Bereavement Counselors. Thank God, No Judge Judy. There was no real talking about “Issues.”

IT. . .

just stayed there.

The Kid remembers just a few days before his 14th Birthday, one night after dinner, there was a knock on the aluminum door.

The Kid was petrified to answer it while everyone else was in the dining room. He hadn’t heard the siren, they must have turned it off to surprise him so he wouldn’t run away. That’s what the Kid thought as soon as he saw the figure of a man silhouetted in the doorway.

The Kid, for the first time in his nearly 14 years of age was actually glad it was the Minister of the Church his parents made him go to each week.

The Kid doesn’t remember what Rev. Dozier said that night.

The Kid was shocked that he drove over 30 miles, over the State line from Pennsylvania to West Virginia to come and BE…to come and BE…to Come and BE…TO Come and BE…TO COME AND BE. . .

. . .with a grieving family and a Scared, a very Scared Kid.

July 2, 1969.

Forty-five years is a long time ago. . .but sometimes not all that long ago.

A Foul…a very FOUL BALL was hit.

Something much more powerful was Caught…and in 45 years…it’s never been fumbled, jumbled, or dropped.

THAT’S made all the difference in the not-so-little KID and more. . .

The Kid’s been able to do the same for others–

S H O W I N G

UP

Will Do THAT. . .

again and again and again….

Dark Nights of the Soul

By 2 Comments

Unknown

We’ve all had them and few, if any are voluntary:

DARK NIGHTS. . .Of The SOUL.

They Scare and paralyze more than amaze and awe us.

I’m in the middle of The Wedding Season right now. I will conduct weddings from now until Labor Day and then a a couple more in the Fall, including my youngest daughter’s on 12/13/14.

There is absolutely NO MIDDLE to the Burying Season. They happen year around, oddly enough, much more so right after the major holidays than at other times (but that’s another Blog Post).

It’s fascinating isn’t it?

All weddings really seem to be fairly similar, but every marriage is vastly different. Death…well…we know that it’s the other side of the Coin we all carry that will one day Come UP for all of us. Death without any Vegas odds comes to everyone, but ONE MOURNS SADLY ALONE.

Dark Nights of the Soul.

[Read more…]

E. I. A. Member

By Leave a Comment

Unknown

Hello. . .

My name is Chuck and I, I, I am…

I am…

Emotionally Incontinent.

W H E W. . .There I Wrote It. I put IT out there. I Claim it and now EXCLAIM IT.

I am Emotionally Incontinent.

I Cry…a lot…sometimes.

I’ve Ministered, Counseled, Coached, Companioned, Actively Listened, Advised, Sympathized, Empathized, Officiated, Conducted, Laughed, Facilitated, but rarely have cried when I’m “WORKING.”

But. . .However. . .nevertheless. . .nonetheless. . .regardless. . .even so. . .

still. . .yet. . .notwithstanding. . .all the same. . .

I am severely Emotionally Incontinent.

If I’m watching SIMON BIRCH, WHILE YOU WERE SLEEPING, THE MIGHTY, THE NATURAL, FIELD OF DREAMS, or even CASTAWAY when Tom Hanks is yelling out for WILSON his Float-away Soccer Ball or Johnny Depp explaining to a grief stricken son about how all he has to do is BELIEVE and IMAGINE to see his recently deceased Mum in NEVERLAND…and Please don’t even whisper, MY DOG SKIP or STEEL MAGNOLIA; don’t mention Frank Vali singing, MY EYES ADORED YOU to his daughter Francine before she fell asleep or, ohhhh, ohhhhhh,
FAULT IN OUR STARS. . . .

Maybe I’m not watching anything, but just merely listening to LES MISERABLES or MISS SAIGON or Beth Nielsen Chapman’s SAY GOODNIGHT or Ben Fold’s THE LUCKIEST or Melissa Manchester’s INCLINED and…

I AM SEVERELY EMOTIONALLY INCONTINENT!

Should I apologize?

“THE STUDIES” say that it’s natural…that it’s a healthy way to LET IT ALL OUT!

I say…try NOT being Emotionally Incontinent at just The Right Scene or the Perfect Song….

So. . .

My Name is Chuck

I am Emotionally Incontinent.

I am a member of Emotionally Incontinent Anonymous.

Are you a Member, too?

Do you want to be?

Become a little more human. . .

. . .a little more Compassionate. . .

Join me, er,

US!

(Tissues, Handkerchiefs, Sleeves, T-shirt tails, Napkins Optional)

Your Last Words

By Leave a Comment

I’m Sorry.

I was wrong.

Forgive me.

Give me another Chance.

Is there anything I can do to make it better?

I love you.

Not bad words at anytime, are they?

They may be classic LAST WORDS…but that’s the problem, isn’t it?

We really don’t know the actual Last Words you we might speak to Someone else.

WOULD IT REALLY CHANGE ANYTHING IF WE DID–If we actually knew that our words, any one we may even be thinking right now, might be the last ones we either spoke, or that another might hear?

Of course we say, “A B S O L U T E L Y,” but Hypothesizing or even Knowing, is not really
DOING, is it?

But…but does that mean we shouldn’t try?

I complimented a hostess at McDonald’s yesterday. I told her that she has a real gift in dealing with people and how much I appreciated her not just taking care of me, but being most excellent at what she does. I went on to tell her that her cheery outlook made my morning brighter and because of her enthusiasm I was absolutely going to make sure that I would do the same with the people I was going to meet today.

She smiled and thanked me for being so nice. And then proved it by giving me three coupons, one for what I had just ordered and two more for future orders!

No big deal, huh? But, but, what if it were the last thing she ever did? Wonder if it was the literal last thing that someone ever did for me?

What if the last word you spoke before reading this was YOUR LAST? Satisfied? Room for improvement?

I’m sorry.

I was wrong.

Forgive me.

Give me another chance.

Is there anything I can do to make it better?

I love you.

Bless the Beasts and. . . .

By Leave a Comment

images

Bless the Beasts and the Children…great song, an even better idea and an absolutely fantastic feeling.

It’s a simple question that has usually gotten me into a lot of trouble and sometimes much hurt:

CAN’T WE ALL JUST GET A LONG?

Seriously, it’s a question I ask with an immense amount of Compassion and apparently a lot more naivety.

I never could never understand as a child and now a past-middle-aged adult why we could just not get a long, why there were wars, fights, arguments? I guess I still can’t.

I have learned it many times as a Church Pastor, a Hospice Chaplain, a Team-Leader, a Speaker, an Author, a Husband, a Father, a Grandfather, a Friend, a Neighbor, a Person.

Listen, I’m not ripping the Pope. I have only heard what he said about Pets…but I still ask the same question as a dad and a pet owner of cats and dogs, and one time of lizards, geckos, a feeder rat, fish, hamsters, hermit crabs and yeah, even spiders.

I know, as studies have said, they’ve all made my blood pressure go lower and I believe, absolutely, higher at times.

I know I’ve told my dogs and cats things I’ve never told another human being.

I know I’ve cried when I have dug their graves in my back yard and laid them to rest.

I know. . . .

. . .and so do you!

So instead of some scathing attack of HOW DARE YOU’s or I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU SAID THAT’s or something(S) much worse and stronger…I’m going to emulate Molly, the dog I have laying beside me right now as I type this: I’m going to be loving, accepting, forgiving, cuddling, appreciative,

U N C O N D I T I O N A L L Y

I conducted a memorial service of a young hospice patient recently. She was a brilliant, caring, loving daughter, friend, lawyer, dog-owner. Shortly after she died, her dog died as well. Her vet said it was a broken heart. When the patient’s grieving mother asked me, hesitantly, embarrassingly, if I could hold a service for both of them this past weekend, I never paused when I said assuredly, “Absolutely.” Their ashes were mixed together in the urn, NEVER TO BE SEPARATED AGAIN….

I think when I grow up I want to be a little kid and/or his dog.

I want to believe, to accept, to love, to trust to love UNCONDITIONALLY just like THEM.

I want the Beast and the child in me to be Blessed…and I want to bless accordingly.

Uhhh, yeah. . .I have the naivety, the audacity, the compassion to think that could actually change the world…one pet, one child, one person at a time.

Join me!

Look Up

By Leave a Comment

Twenty-years ago.

A blink of the eye, huh?

Well, then again, the eye doesn’t blink quite the same way as it did some twenty-years ago. . . .

The eye rarely meets another eye, at least for any real significant moments or for any length of time.

It’s ALL Changed, hasn’t it?

Don’t believe me?

WHAT ARE YOU READING RIGHT NOW AT THIS VERY MOMENT?

ON WHAT DEVICE ARE YOU ACTUALLY READING?

Hmmmmm…Living Proof, huh?

Just like the video, of which you might not have even watched the entire clip, makes a powerful point:
WE ARE JUST TOO FOCUSED ON WHAT NEEDS NOT OUR ENTIRE FOCUS–Almost every waking moment.

Can you do it?

Can you go a morning? An afternoon? Can you go out and sit through an entire meal, desert, a whole cup of coffee without texting or emailing or checking Face Book, Tweeting?

Again, what are you doing right now at this very moment–R E A D I N G–from what, where, how?

Here’s the deal…this is an emptied can of Shaving Cream that’s never going to be put back into the can from which it’s been drained.

So? Is that it? Are we just to deal with it? What can change, alter, make the best of it?

C O M P A S S I O N

Compassionate listening. Compassionate presence makes you LOOK UP more quickly, more sincerely, most assuredly than your next Text.

C O M P A S S I O N

It’s the Universal, most full proof, least evasive, most effective, non-pharmaicutical, non-addictive, all inclusive way of COMMUNICATING still known…just not always or in ALL WAYS practiced and even more sadly EXPERIENCED; that’s the Bad News.

GOOD NEWS?

YOU. . .you have the power to Change THAT!

How?

LOOK UP!

Pssssst: Don’t be surprised if you meet the eyes of SOMEONE who’s done the exact same thing as you have at the exact same time.

REPEAT OFTEN!

RE-MEMBER

By Leave a Comment

Happy Memorial Day.

How can you assure it?

One simple word: RE-MEMBERING–literally, by putting together the Pieces of your Life that have meaning and significance to you the Ones who make those Memories worth RE-Membering–Putting back together.

The World will debate and argue, but the greatest forces in and out of this World are our Memories and the Love that makes those memories significant.

It’s easy to JUST Limit these Memories to our Veterans or for those who have recently passed, but any day we truly RE-Member, that we actually put together those snipets of ‘Once-Upon-A-Time,’ and ‘Remember When’s’ that put all those glorious colors to the Tapestry of our Lives, becomes a true Memorial Day.

Like any Holiday, it really is celebrated most, not so much on it’s Noted, Dated Day, but when fully Recognized, Realized, Revitalized again and again and again with, yes, that one single, beautiful thing called Memory.

So, on this Memorial Day, RE-MEMBER: It’s not enough for us to just merely Remember, but for us to just simply Re-Member one thought, one memory past Eternity.

Five Words:

Happy Memorial Day. . .Thank You. . . .

The Calling

By Leave a Comment

Unknown

“THEY SAY. . . ,” you will not have just a job or more, just a career, but most likely FIVE of them during your life time.

Gone are the days of working for a corporation/factory/school district/job for forty years to leave with a nice pension, 401K and the proverbial gold engraved Watch.

It’s this time of the year with Graduation Ceremonies abounding that we hear of 70, 80, 91 year old’s actually graduating. Their Retirement, better still, their Calling has changed. It doesn’t matter WHO they were before…it matters WHO THEY ARE NOW!

Us too.

[Read more…]

Professional Speaker, Author, Assurance Man