The Caring Catalyst

Who Cares - What Matters

It’s In Every One of Us

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It’s in Every One of us. . .

What’s the

I T ?

Happiness
Sadness
Hope
Despair
Hurt
Disappointment
Un-met Expectation
Suffering
Happiness
______________________________________

It’s been attributed to many different people, from Stephen Covey to Wayne Dyer to Pierre Teilhard de Chardin:

WE ARE NOT HUMAN BEINGS WHO MAY HAVE A SPIRITUAL EXPERIENCE, WE ARE SPIRITUAL BEINGS HAVING A HUMAN EXPERIENCE.

I T

is a great saying and very believable. . .

HOWEVER,

The truest T H I N G

in every one of us just might well be our sincerest capacity to

E X P E R I E N C E

Your Suffering is my suffering. . .

Your Happiness is my happiness. . .

Yours. . .Mine

. . .a never ending thread of multiple colors and textures making up the ongoing Tapestry that ultimately makes a Yours and a Mine

O U R S

a glorious US

It’s in Every One of Us. . .

see THAT

be THAT

free THAT

all ways.

Just Because

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We did it.

It was usually during Summer vacations when we were actually on vacation, too.

We’d let the kids eat DESSERT FOR BREAKFAST?

Sometimes it would be cake

Sometimes it would be pie

Sometimes it would be cookies

Sometimes it would be popcorn

Sometimes it would be ice-cream

Sometimes it would be a bag of candy

I noticed it without really trying to notice. . .

So did THEY

We all did.

Seriously, it was 7:30 A. M. Before School.

Among the French toast, easy over eggs, pancakes, sausage patties and links, bacon and hash browns…

THERE IT WAS:

A Huge Chocolate Fudge Sundae

His eyes were shiny and huge and very appreciative.

His Father?

Well, he seemed very pleased to appease.

Was it a reward?

A paid off bet?

A bribe?

An Equalizer?

The other two kids from a couple of tables down almost immediately stopped eating and couldn’t stop ogling that mountain of quickly disappearing fudge and dripping vanilla ice-cream with whipped frosting.

THEIR’S was not to know THAT pleasure at 7:44 that morning.

When I went to the register to pay for my cheesy eggs and side of bacon with a fountain of coffee, the mother of the two kids who couldn’t stop looking at the Sundae which had magically disappeared before their eyes, but not his face…

“What’s with the kid getting a Sundae before eight-o’clock in the morning?”

The waitress behind the register said, “You know, I asked they guy the same thing when the kid ordered it.”

“Well, what did he say,” the mom insistently wanted to know?

“He said, well He said, JUST BECAUSE…”

“JUST BECAUSE,” Mom bellowed probably louder than she thought so that everyone stopped stirring, scooping, slicing, cutting, slurping and eating and just looked up. “LIKE THAT’S A REASON?”

T H A T

happened about three weeks ago between that magical time…those beautiful moments…between Christmas and New Year’s before the Holiday glitter of glorious globed world settled down

AGAIN

It keeps bouncing around my head, well, actually more my heart…

Of THOSE TIMES

once lived but never forgotten and now remembered…

LIVED ALL OVER AGAIN!

I had to bring them to page for Peace and for even more RE-Memberings

It’s like I just discovered a beautiful, unknown Continent–

in just two words:

JUST BECAUSE

Hey, Sundae’s for ALL, on me, for the bestest reasons of all:

J U S T

B E C A U S E

Brokenness

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Is there anything sadder than a little boy crying over a broken toy?

Do you remember?

Your favorite toy–BROKEN–and not by someone else. That would only make you mad, but broken by your own hand.

The ultimate O U C H.

He was devastated. His sisters and mother had already come into the restaurant, but he and his dad stayed out in the lobby.

He was just about unconsolable.

“Whhhhhhhhhy dad? Whhhhhhhhhhhhhhy,” he sobbed.

Dad was already kneeling down beside him so he could be at his level.

“I’m sorry buddy,” I heard his dad say in a soft, low voice.

“I didn’t mean to drop it, daddy. It just slipped out of my hand. It just slipped,” he continued to sob out as he picked up the broken pieces of his toy train car.

“I know, buddy, I know it was an accident. You didn’t do it on purpose,” his dad said reassuringly.

“Maybe we can get another one,” the son asked trying to put NOW back the Pieces of his broken heart?

“Son, I’m not going to lie to you, I don’t think they sell these anymore. We might be able to buy something else but nothing just like this,” dad said, once again in a very comforting tone.

“Maybe, maybe we can just fix it, daddy?

“Buddy, I don’t think that’s going to happen either; the pieces that we might have been able to fix are broken up too. I’m sorry, Pal.”

The mantra started:

“It’s not fair. . .it’s not fair. . .it’s not fair. . .I want my train back. I want my train back. I just want my train back again, dad.”

And the refrain:

“I know, buddy, I know, I know, I know. . .”

“I JUST WANT MY TRAIN!”

L O U D E R CRYING.

“Sometimes things just can’t be fixed when they get broken. That’s why we have to be careful with the things that important to us,” dad tried saying as assuringly as he could.

More crying. . . .

“Come here, buddy,” dad said as he picked his son up and put him on his knee as he continued to kneel down beside him.

His son wrapped his arms around his dad’s neck and cried a bit more until it just settled down into a few sobs and then just a couple of shudders.

All of this took place to the side of me as I was waiting to pay my bill and leave.

It wasn’t a very long few moments.

It was me, standing in line, waiting behind another patron to settle a debt, pay a bill. . .

And yet, it was a little boy with a smashed train and a broken heart with a caring dad that was more than enough filling my Account.

In the end, it wasn’t much of his words or reassurances that made the difference; it was that WORDLESS compassionate, loving hug.

Do you remember?

Something broken. . .

The devastation. . .

The hurt. . .

The R E L I E F

. . .of an unspoken word that was a hug. . .HELD BACK INTO WHOLENESS?

It was a powerful sight to see that between a son and his dad. . .

Even more powerful to know we possess, even NOW, that kind of healing power for another’s

B R O K E N N E S S.

The World becomes WHOLE, gets more healed, one compassionate hug at at time.

PAY UP

The World doesn’t need another speech. . .it needs a sincere, compassionate hug. . .

It won’t only pick up the pieces. . .it’ll hold them in place.

PAY UP

LegisLATEd

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WOULDN’T IT BE GREAT?

All stupid laws, wiped from the Books. . .

We’ve all seen them before, haven’t we?

Books have been written; documentaries produced:

STUPID LAWS

In Wheeler, Missouri, young girls are never allowed to walk a tightrope–Unless it’s in Church.

You must believe in God to be elected into office in Tennessee.

In Leecreek, Arkansas, no one is allowed to attend Church in any red-colored garment.

It’s illegal to have a sleeping donkey in your bathtub after 7:00 p.m. in Oklahoma.

Turtle races are not permitted within one-hundred yards of a local church at any time in Slaughter, Louisiana.

In Oxford, Ohio, it’s unlawful for a woman to appear in public while unshaven. This includes legs and face.

Please. . .PLEASE, I beg of you, DO NOT even think of tickling a woman under her chin with a feather duster, in Church while in Blackwater, Kentucky unless you want to hear the Judge’s gavel come slamming down as he pronounces a $100 penalty and one full day in jail.

Ludicrous, huh?

I’ve just mentioned a few that GOOGLE could provide a GAGGLE more for you.

IF WRITING IT DOWN IN A LAW BOOK COULD MAKE IT–LAW–COULD WE LEGISLATE

love

compassion

empathy

kindness

sympathy

peace

fulfilled dreams

answered prayers

____________________________________. . . .

Questionable. . .

Doubtful there could ever be laws enacted that would benefit the world–us–in such a way we would dare not break for fear of imprisonment.

Hmmmmmm of the Day: WE ARE IMPRISONED–Legislated or not–when we are not observers/keepers of the LAW of

LOVE
Compassion
Empathy
Kindness
Sympathy
Peace
Fulfilled Dreams
Answered Prayers

Would we dare risk, penalty, imprisonment, death, NOT OBSERVING/KEEPING such Laws?

Until WE HAVE. . .

we won’t. . . .

Never has the slamming of the gavel been more alarmingly L O U D

. . .and we more guilty.

DUCK…

The Book is in mid-air; long been thrown; it’s aim exact and ohhhhh,

it’s going to leave a mark.

Wouldn’t it be great?

Legislating the Un-Legisltable?

We can’t be imprisoned for not observing such laws and yet, we can never fully be free until we live otherwise.

When Competition, Isn’t….

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Does it ever end well. . .?

An older Pizza Hut Delivery man comes marching into McDonald’s at one of their most busiest times, right at lunch hour.

You could see that both of the Drive-Thru Lanes were packed and there were three lines of hungry people, four or five deep waiting to place their orders.

This Pizza Hut Delivery Guy wasn’t about to wait in line. As soon as he got to the center of store, he started, very loudly yelling, “WHERE’S THE MANAGER? I WANT TO SPEAK TO THE MANGER, NOW!” The loud

N O W

Almost sounded like an angry dog before he was ready to sink his teeth into any soft flesh available.

Everyone stood there stunned. It got very quiet.

No cash registers were ringing.

No orders were being taken.

No one was moving.

No one expected a good outcome.

Would you?

Does a scene set up like this ever end up well?

Their was hushed mumbling and then yelling for “RON” (Oh the Irony–RON–Seriously? A distant relative of THE RONALD McDONALD?)

to get out to the front.

Uh-oh. . .there he was. RON, a young manager in a not-so-white-stained-barely-tucked-in-shirt with a black wrinkled tie, and dirty eye-glasses that were somewhat askew.

SHOW TIME:

“You the manager,” the Pizza Hut Delivery man more accused than asked?

“Yes sir, my name is Ron. How may I be of help?”

“Well I came here to get something straight,” he started out, not in any low tone manner.

EVERYONE WAS WATCHING THIS…MUST SEE REALITY. . . .

“My mother was in here the other day,” the Pizza Hut man continued, “and she kinda got stuck over there in that booth. She’s having trouble getting around and she said everyone was laughing and no one was out here helping her. . . ,”

“Sir,” Ron butted in to begin defending himself, but Pizza Man was having none of it.

He put his hand up in front of Ron’s face as he continued.

“Hold on there, Son. She said everyone was laughing and snickering and talking about her and no one was doing a thing and then you came out and brought her a coffee and a glass of water and you helped her out.”

This went

H A L L M A R K

quicker than you could say: M c P I Z Z A. . . .

And then, then came the McPLAUSE and rightfully so.

Pizza Man pulled a steaming, hot pizza from his delivery bag as he said, “Here, Ron, it ain’t much but a man who does good deserves good.”

And with that he hands him over a Pizza–SPECIAL DELIVERY–as it were.”

People applauded and cheered. A few whistled.

They shook hands and then hugged.

I WANTED TO KNOW. . .to HEAR what Pizza Man told Ron McDonald Manager as they hugged there for a moment.

Quite a moment. . .still is.

When the Competition, ISN’T. . .the most amazing things happen.

Little Sabbaths

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When was the last time you had a Little Sabbath?

If you’re waiting for the perfect Friday night at Sundown or Sunday morning–you’re waiting too long.

Little Sabbaths come about several times a day but like the threads of THE BACK; the UNDERNEATH side of a Tapestry we seldom notice.

Was it when someone smiled at you from across the room?

Was it when someone held the door open for you and let you in the Starbucks line before them?

Was it when you cut someone off in traffic and they actually smiled and waved at you?

Was it when someone put some extra change in your parking meter before you got a certain ticket?

Was it when you were eating breakfast and someone picked up your bill?

Was it when you came up short at the check out counter and someone put down their credit card for you?

Little Sabbaths happen several times a day but like the threads of THE BACK; the UNDERNEATH side of a Tapestry we seldom notice.

Was it when you anonymously sent a gift card in the mail, JUST BECAUSE?

Was it when you dropped off a meal or a nice dessert without warning to a busy family?

Was it when you celebrated Christmas a month before or better still two months afterwards?

Was it when you PURPOSELY overtipped a tired, overworked waitress?

Was it when you raked leaves or shoveled snow for a neighbor before they got home?

Was it when gave more than your pocket change to someone by the roadside asking for money?

Little Sabbaths are a lot like the Backs, the Underneaths of a Tapestry:

Loose ends, dangling strings, jumbled, tumbled up knots–all seemingly

M E A N I N G L E S

when you just look at the back

H A R R O W I N G

when you just look at the Underneath

because there’s no seeming reason, purpose, meaning for any of the brilliant or even dark colors or golden strands running aimlessly amok.

LITTLE SABBATHS

assure that every dangling string, loose end, tangled knots of the woven tapestry is connect, whether we can see the connections or not. The interconnected web of life, of which we are a part is, both complex and full of wonder:

LITTLE SABBATHS

We’re just not the back of a Tapestry with all of it’s loose ends. . .

We are indeed, the front of the Tapestry,

Especially with all of those dangling loose ends having distinct, absolute SIGNIFICANCE.

GET W O V E N. . .

and find the greatest LITTLE SABBATH of all is that you’ve never NOT been a part of the Tapestry!

McBrought It

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I’m impatient.

That’s a huge McUnderstatement.

Would you like a McClassic Example?

So very crowded was the line inside of McDonald’s that I went back outside, got in my car and got in the drive-thru line.

It was also a dramatic illustration of just how competitive I am, even with myself. My personal-no-one-even-noticed-Game was to get in my car, go through the drive-thru, get my order, park my car and get back into McDonald’s and eat my sausage egg McMuffin without the last person in line inside the store getting their order.

Little did I know that there was another game about to take place. . .

One with a couple of Winners.

I first heard her voice when I came up to the speaker to place my order.

Before she ever asked me for my order, she asked me this:

“Good morning. Are you having a good day?”

I told her I was having an awesome day and asked her how she was doing?

She told me, “Most Excellent.”

“Now what can I get for you to make the day better,” she asked?

I placed my order and was a little intrigued to find who this Order-Taking Wizard was.

She was young, and had a smile on her face that filled the window.

She told me what I owed her and as I handed her the money, I told her I owed her much more than that.

“How is it that you are TAKING orders but GIVING so much more than what you could put in a bag?”

She laughed and said, “I’ve never heard it put THAT way before.”

I thanked her for making my morning and she thanked me for coming through her line and told me it was good to see me.

I gave her my standard reply to that comment: “IT’S BETTER TO BE SEEN THAN VIEWED”

She laughed and that when I said, “Hey, thanks for bringing it. . .you McBROGHT IT!”

She yelled as I drifted away, “Thanks, you McBrought it, too!”

I hurried and parked my car and went back into McDonald’s to read the papered news and eat my Sausage Egg McMuffin.

Oh yeah, I was smiling big because I had beaten the people who were still in line waiting for their orders.

I WON!

…and then, and then I realized, I ready had W O N. . . .

When was the last time Some One McBrought if for you?

When was the last time you McBrought if for Some One Else?

Let the Game begin. . .

McBring It!

W I N

Yesterday’s News, Tomorrow

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It’s almost been a month. . .

If you think that news travels fast, time makes you forget THAT news flies even faster, doesn’t it?

It’s been just about a month since Robin Williams died.

There’s been many stories written, many movies highlighted and seen, many once-upon-a time’s and remember-when’s reflected upon.

Care for one more?

I don’t think I’ll ever be able to hear the name of ROBIN WILLIAMS or see another one of his movies without thinking about this. . . .

The story goes that whenever Robin was to be hired or considered for a role he would submit a “RIDER.”

[Read more…]

A Fan or a Follower?

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I’ve been a life long Pittsburgh Steeler Fan.

Now it comes honestly. I’ve been living in Cleveland since 1987 and I don’t think I’ll live anywhere else because I love the area and what it offers so much.

But. . .

I was born in Wheeling, WV and grew up about thirty miles away in Washington, PA, about a half an hour from Pittsburgh.

As much as I love the Cav’s (especially with LaBron and his supporting cast in place) and am an avid Tribe supporter, The Steelers…well, I just can’t give them up.

However. . .

I’m not a Pittsburgh Steeler Fan, anymore. I’m certainly not a Baltimore Ravens Fan and no, sadly, I’m not a Browns fan either.

After seeing the video of Devon Still and his four-year old cancer-stricken daughter and hearing that in the midst of all of his troubles, he actually finds out that he didn’t make the final roster cut of the Cincinnati Bengals…but included him on the Team’s Practice Squad, how can you not at least have a little bit of support for THAT team?

THAT they signed him to a newly expanded Practice Squad…

THAT he will not be traveling a whole lot and be able to spend precious time with his daughter…

THAT he will receive $6300.00 a week for his salary for being on the Practice Squad…

THAT HE WILL BE ABLE TO HAVE INSURANCE FOR MUCH NEEDED MEDICAL CARE…

goes well beyond what football is, promises, or ever hopes to be, even with the ultimate winning of the Super Bowl or MVP Honors.

I’d like to think, just because the Browns lost to the Steelers on a last second Field Goal after coming back from a 27-3 half-time deficit, their home opener next week will still be a sell-out–not because of Fans…but faithful, die-hard FOLLOWERS!

FOLLOWERS who, regardless of wins/losses, last-second defeats or stupid-game-losing-mistakes, still believe, still support, still root, support, wear the T-shirt. . . .

Are you a Fan or a Follower?

It’s not often or often enough to be sure, but when I watch a video like the one above or hear of a TRUE LOVE STORY like Devon Still and his daughter, I become a much more Compassionate, Committed Follower; my heart beats a little more proudly; my eyes become watery; my faith a little more restored; my Hope–more secured.

Are you a Fan or a Follower?

Sometimes…just Some Times…

there’s a new song that just doesn’t need to be heard, or sung, but followed!

Let The Dance Begin…and never end. . .my fellow Followers!

Listening is Speaking (Volumes)

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There’s very things I really enjoy more than Speaking.

It’s actually FIRST nature to me.

I’ve been babbling since, well since EVER BEFORE I CAN ACTUALLY REMEMBER.

I’ve got a mouth that belongs in a circus and it’s rare when it’s actually shut–I’m told I even talk in my sleep.

Is it always because I have something to say?

Do I love the sound of my voice, THAT much?

Does it cover up a multitude of other flaws?

Has it gotten me as much OUT of trouble as it has IN trouble?

Well….

I’ve come to understand, in spite of my love of the spoken word (MINE), that sometimes the greatest things I ever say are the things I DON’T.

I loved sharing the small YouTube video of me, shot a few years ago before I began blogging, before there actually was a www.thecaringcatalyst.com website.

OF COURSE, I HAD TO TELL SOMEONE ABOUT IT!

But, it wasn’t the video, it wasn’t the wasted preparation time, the travel to this venue for nurses, social workers, and nursing home administrators that was of any consequence THAT night.

It was not the Story-Telling…

It was the STORY-LISTENING that took place.

I’m not shocking anyone with this statement:

WE LISTEN TO REPLY!

But when our main agenda is to Listen, FIRST, Second and Third, the most amazing type of Communication takes place.

We don’t so much get to use our Ears but THAT which only hears what a heart shouts and a mouth can’t begin to Whisper.

T H A T language of the Soul, Words of the Heart, is the most sacred and the most significant. . .

And, and the most NEEDED!

When I became the audience THAT night, when I actually was able to be my own living illustration of HEARING WHAT WASN’T SAID…I not only became a card-carrying STORY-LISTENER, I instantaneously became more Empathetic, more Humanly in tuned, more Compassionate.

I was able to learn once more, which I LOUDLY EXTOLE each time I present, DID YOU HEAR WHAT I DIDN’T SAY?…

What I know, what I know I know, what I bet my life that I know, I, for the very life of me, don’t always act like I know:

EVERYONE HAS A STORY THAT DESPERATELY, NOT SO MUCH NEEDS TO BE TOLD, AS SIMPLY H E A R D!

I Became THAT person THAT night.

Now, at this moment, I’m inviting you to an awesome Phenomenon:

Join me.

Do the Same.

O F T E N. . .

It just might well leave you, uhhhh…

SPEECHLESS.

Professional Speaker, Author, Assurance Man