Christmases, City and Rural

Christmas in the city is busy, bustling, exciting. People are a little happier than usual, a tad more friendly, but also more harried - they just carry it well. The city takes on a festive glow, the window lights softening the glare of streetlights and neon shop signs. It's business as usual, though - *more* than usual in some sectors, with part-timers brought on to handle the press of business at the holidays. The carols can be heartfelt, but they can also mean the difference between breaking even and a decent profit for the year. Parties are in full swing, the bar/restaurants are booked solid with groups of co-workers having some holiday cheer. It's busy, no doubt about it. When I hear this song, I can picture the scene:

Christmas makes you feel emotional
It may bring parties or thoughts devotional
Whatever happens or what may be,
Here is what Christmas time means to me.

City sidewalk, busy sidewalks
dressed in holiday style.
In the air there's
a feeling of Christmas.

Children laughing, people passing,
meeting smile after smile,
And on every street corner you'll hear:

Silver bells, silver bells,
It's Christmas time in the city.
Ring-a-ling, hear them ring,
soon it will be Christmas day.

City street lights,
even stop lights,
blink a bright red and green,
As the shoppers rush home
with their treasures.

Hear the snow crunch,
see the kids bunch,
This is Santa's big scene,
And above all this bustle you'll hear:

Silver bells, silver bells,
It's Christmas time in the city.
Ring-a-ling, hear them ring,
soon it will be Christmas day.

But in the country... it's different. The rookie cop pulls patrol on Christmas day, the fire house is down to a skeleton crew. The quick marts and gas stations are closed up along with the coffee shop and the shoe repair place. People are still nice, yes, but no more than they are all year 'round. It comes with the territory around here. But they're harder to find - they're home with family, eating, drinking, playing Sheepshead or Pinochle or Euchre, drinking some more, and watching football on TV. Or... they're at church.

Last night after checking on the dog I drove from the cabin on the lake into town for the Christmas Eve candlelight service, and the little country church that I pass on the way had a parking lot full of cars. I'd never seen more than one there before this, but with the parking lot full, the church lit from within, and the light shining *out* through the stained glass, it seemed so warm and cozy - and quiet. You could almost hear the assembled multitude of friends, neighbors and extended families, all singing "Silent Night" acapella. Driving by, you got the feeling that this was the time of year where the stained glass wasn't for those inside the church, like it is on a Sunday morning - but for those passing by on a dark night, with no church of their own, no anchor for the season.

Still others are at the tavern with *their* extended "family" of fellow revelers, lifting their spirits a bit differently. The jukebox plays "Grandma Got Run Over By A Reindeer" to a rousing singalong on the chorus, good for a few knowing yuks afterwards. People know that songs like this fit them, here where snowmobiles run in the ditches beside the country two-lanes or cut across the fields marked as available for such cross-country transit. The comraderie is as vibrant, if not as focused on inner joy and the life to come. There are simpler pleasures out here where the deer and dogs run free but the rusting trucks in the backyard don't. The outside lighting displays are less the latest trend from Macy's (or even Target), and more from the traditions of the previous generation and what the new one has added slowly and respectfully over the years. There's less focus on change and more on continuity - of yard lights, and of family rituals.

So what's the right song for a rural Christmas? Maybe some combination of "White Christmas", "I'll Be Home For Christmas", and "The Christmas Song", all of which talk about things from our past that we want to remember - warm, happy, home-centric memories. But I like this one - I can see the country lane and the meadow and the snowman, can't you?

Sleigh bells ring, are you listening,

in the lane, snow is glistening.

A beautiful sight,we're happy tonight,

walking in a winter wonderland.

Gone away is the bluebird,

here to stay is a new bird

He sings a love song,as we go along,

walking in a winter wonderland.

In the meadow we can build a snowman,

Then pretend that he is Parson Brown

He'll say: Are you married? we'll say: No man,

But you can do the job when you're in town.

Later on, we'll conspire,

as we dream by the fire

To face unafraid,the plans that we've made,

walking in a winter wonderland.

It snowed a couple of days ago, and everything got covered in whiteness and a clean beauty. Waking up yesterday morning ago to snow covered branches and a glaze of ice on the lake, birds at the feeder, fire in the hearth... there's a lot to be said for Christmas way out here in the country.

Rocky Redux

After driving around looking at lights last night (such as they are in this little burg up north), J2 and I headed to the movie theatre to see "Rocky Balboa". A nice little outing for father and son.

The movie was a bit introspective (maybe that's Stallone as filmmaker looking at himself, who knows), but the fight scenes were still great, and we both liked the symmetry of the movie vis-a-vis the entire series. It closed a loop, sort of ended where it began.

And it was remarkable how in shape the guy was. He has the sagging skin of a 60 year old (I'm beginning to relate) but underneath that lack of youthful tautness, he was *built*, with enormous arms. Very little fat on the belly, although he was barrel-chested (as one gets over time, despite the best intentions.) The years were evident, but so was the remaining power.

I suppose it's romantic, sentimental, and even a little maudlin to insert oneself into the plot line. And who better than me to do such a thing? ;) One of the things Rocky said was that he still had "stuff inside" that needed to come out - he wasn't done yet - but had no way to express it. Hm. I liked that he found a way to flame out, and not sputter (see last pic in post of 11/28). You know, "old guy does good", that kind of thing.

I still have stuff inside, too, that needs to come out. I'm not done yet, either. So all I need, I guess, is a metaphorical ring to step into. Still looking for the right venue...

Home For Christmas?

I'm dreaming tonight of a place I love
even more than I usually do.
And though I know it's a long road back
I promise you

I'll be home for Christmas
You can plan on me.
Please have snow and mistletoe
And presents 'round the tree.

Christmas Eve will find me
Where the love-light gleams;
I'll be home for Christmas
If only in my dreams



I'm not sure about being "home for Christmas" this year - even if it's only in my dreams.

Where is home for me, again? Someone refresh my memory, please - I've forgotten. Show me where home is, would you? I'd like to go there right about now. I'm pretty sure I'll know it when I see it.

Oh boy, a heart to heart!

What did I just get myself into?

Just had my usual 1 on 1 with Pebo in which I told him what I was working on, and then he recapped how he thought things were going.

Following several well-placed criticisms of my staff (like I'm not already painfully aware of these things...) he did wrap up by saying that he and Rug agree that they are seeing much better behaviors from me, which I take to mean more evidence of being engaged, which is in turn derived from delivering more work products, or at least having a plan for same. So that's positive, I guess. I'm not sure I'm doing anything differently, though - it's just that stuff we've had in the queue for a while is getting finished. Hm.

Well, anyway, he had asked the time before how he could help me. I was prepared today to ask for a couple of things. First, could he be less directive and less blunt, more congenial? I had concrete examples that seemed to ring bells with him. So, maybe that will help me feel less intimidated, I don't know. Second, could we take some time after Christmas (we're both in the office between then and New Year's) to have a non-project related discussion about my personality type, work style and fit with his expectations for this current assignment I'm in.

He even agreed to do a little pre-reading for it! He loves to hand out things to read, and I will no doubt wow him by my comprehension of the latest business book he's given to all of us to read, "The Goal" by Eliyahu M. Goldratt. But I think he'll be surprised by my reaction to it - emotional, not intellectual. The intellectual conclusion of the book was obvious. The emotional impact unexpected. (that seems to be my pattern these days - unexpected emotional reactions to things)

So, he's going to read before the 27th some descriptions I gave him of the INTJ/ENTJ personality types (which I fluctuate between - depending on who I'm with and what I'm doing), and will also read the two short Biblical books of Ezra and Nehemiah, so I can relate to him the analogy I laid out in a prior post.

Boy, oh boy. This conversation should be a real corker. Pass the kleenex. Wish I was the one driving across the country with the dog for Christmas. I'd welcome the drive back alone to think and rehearse what I'll say. Instead I fly in and out - and talking to myself out loud on the airplane doesn't usually make the people around me very comfortable. Hope I can distract myself over the holidays and not dwell on this upcoming talk. At least it's scheduled for end of day, so that I can go home afterwards and perspire & shake in private. :)

Conflicting (or converging) Advice?

People are aware of both my job situation and my enrolling in grad school, and I'm getting two consistent streams of advice and counsel these days.

One thread is basically: "Bloom where you're planted. Buckle down and work hard. Give 100% - a day's work for a day's pay. Develop a good reputation. Trust in God and He will deliver you at the right time. Don't try to weasel out of a tough situation - learn whatever lesson is there for you to learn."

The other thread is more like: "Connect with your passions. Use the time you have left to make the biggest impact on those around you, leave a positive legacy behind you. It's never too late to change direction. This is the time of life where you can be free again to grow and change for the better. As long as you're energetic and healthy - follow your heart, trust God for the rest. What is your security in, anyway? Money isn't everything, you know."

So... is one thread of advice right and the other wrong?

Or, can I apply both at the same time somehow? Maybe so - I think the next 3-4 months will tell the tale. A quarter's worth of grad school, at the same time trying to improve things at work, looking at other career options in the meantime... who knows? Maybe I can learn something about myself and life while exploring a new direction for my remaining productive years, be that 5, 15, 25, or 50. Who knows how long?

Like Gandalf says to Frodo, when Frodo wishes out loud to be rid of his burden - wishes "that none of this had happened." Gandalf says to him: "So do all who live to see such times. But that is not for them to decide. All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given to us."

Neither is it for me to decide how much productive time I have left. But what do I do with what I've been given? *How* do I spend it?

Nehemiah I'm not

Lately the sermons at church have been dovetailing with my personal life. And, while that's good, it's also unsettling! Especially so when it's work-related. As frustrating as that has been lately, I've tried to let it stay at the office when I leave, but now even the pastors won't let me!!! :) Hmmm. Ok, maybe it's not them that's pestering me. Maybe it's the One for whom they work.

So on Friday I'm sitting in PeBo's office for my weekly one-on-one with him, trying to keep the hair on the back of my neck down. He is blunt and directive from the start, which puts me immediately on edge, as if I weren't anxious enough already. But, the conversation actually goes pretty well and he ends by saying "I have no issues with you."

!!

How am I supposed to react to that? It almost felt like I was supposed to look at my shoes and say "thank you, kind sir." So I didn't say anything. Then he says: "how are WE doing, you and me?" and I sort of choke. That kind of question is way too multi-faceted to respond to without some thought, so as I'm thinking and looking at the window, he looks at his watch and says "well, you think about it. When we meet next I'd like you to tell me what I can do for you, tell me how I can help you."

Okay, then. Um... at least I have a chance to think about that for a another week. But what do I say? I do want to hang on to this job for a while...

So today I'm listening to the sermon and it seems sort of irrelevant (he was talking about expressing anger - although come to think of it, maybe it's not all *that* irrelevant), until the pastor uses Nehemiah as an example of how to deal with anger well. Then, my head starts to fill with ideas. Not about anger, but about Nehemiah, his contemporary, Ezra, and an analogy that might just fit...

A couple of weeks ago a department head in another area of the company told me "this company has a strong culture of rewarding people who get things done." Do-ers, in other words. Not thinkers, not persuaders, but do-ers.

I think that's what PeBo wants. A do-er. A take-charge guy who will take the long list of things PeBo wants done and do what it takes to make them happen. Seems to me that I am much more a thinker and a persuader than a doer. My most successful career role has been in positions that require intuitive thinking and persuading about what should happen next. I look for patterns in things and try to connect dots, connect ideas, explain why things are the way they are, and then persuade others to see the same thing, and then act on it. I connect people who are thinking similarly, or who need each other to avoid working on the same thing in parallel but at cross purposes.

What came to mind this morning is the difference between Nehemiah and Ezra. Both were involved in the rebuilding of Jerusalem after the Jews' Babylonian exile. But their roles were very different (though complementary) and their reactions to short-sighted behavior very different (though both effective.) If you read the OT books that bear their names, you get a composite picture.

Nehemiah was the skilled administrator and led by command. He was directive and unyielding in his approach to getting things done. He was critical when he needed to be, and gave pats on the back when appropriate. He lined up his resources, prepared a plan, executed it to a T. He lacked much compassion for failure, and harangued people to do what was necessary to accomplish what he knew was right.

Ezra was the visionary and teacher, who led by appealing to principle. He called the people to take the right path, explained to them what it was, and was broken-hearted over failure, publicly abasing himself as an example, taking their shame on himself. He appealed to their better nature, called them to a higher standard, motivated people not with a plan but with a vision and purpose.

PeBo wants a Nehemiah. I think I'm an Ezra.

Anarchists Knitting Mittens

The Saturday of Thanksgiving weekend J1 and I went on a tour of the downtown, including a gorgeous art deco building and the company HQ. While in the area, we stopped off at the First Annual Punk Rock Flea Market. It's kind of hard to describe the experience, but - you know of course that I'll try. ;)

It was in the basement of a neighborhood cultural center (made possible by the very government that the people at the anarchist literature table were pushing to tear down - I'm sure the irony was lost on the group.) and had about 15 tables selling both used and newly handmade stuff. I was the only person in the room over 30 and so got a few inquisitive looks, but also got involved in a couple of interesting and enthusiastic conversations.

I was fascinated as I riffed through the Punk and Hardcore music for sale (um... and what's the difference, again?), to find that so much was on vinyl. How long have these bands been around anyway? But then I realized... Hey! this is NEW vinyl! New! As in they just pressed the stuff this year. You must be kidding me...

So I asked a kid behind one table about it, expressed my amazement, and he said "Yeah, vinyl's cool. In fact, here... this one's an EP of my own band. I'm giving them out as promos - take one!" Promos, I said? That can't be cheap. Aren't CDs more economical? "Of course", he said, "but they're not as cool. And you guys were right, man, vinyl just sounds better! Plus, the cover art is waaaay better. It's like, you know, BIG! You can really see the detail in great graphics and stuff so much better that way. It's like, some of the old classic rock albums had really great artwork, too - you remember, right?"

Yeah, man, I remember - hey, I'm cool. I just... forgot for a while that I was. :)

Funny how things come around again. Like great vinyl LPs with cool cover art. I have some on my lounge wall right now. :) Classic stuff, dude. But it's not just happening in music. You look on furniture or clothing design websites and it's lots of 60's retro looks. That was a very hip time, innovative, edgy, cool. I think that's why I like my lounge so much - it's a modern take on old coolness.

And then there's philosophy. Some of the same concepts are coming around again there, too, just with a modern take. Anarchist literature for example... I read a fair amount of radical leftist power-to-the-people tear-down-the-government pamphlets in my late teens/early twenties. Feminists wanted sexual liberation and to destroy gender objectification, while the anarchists wanted liberation from the warmongers in Washington (as I recall, the Democrats began *that* war and Republicans were left to handle the withdrawal...) and to break down the military-industrial complex. Right on, brother!



Yet here, while the boys were selling used CDs (and new vinyl!), t-shirts, band posters, anarchist literature and vigorously discussing "the movement", the girls were selling vegan baked goods and home made crafts (cloth purses, decorative buttons, knitted mittens, Christmas (!) ornaments, notecards) and discussing so&so's new baby. Hmmm... so much for gender objectification.

It felt like I entered a time warp and I stepped into 1971. I'd been here before! Except back then the girls wore granny dresses and head scarves instead of layered t-shirts and goth makeup, and the boys were not dressed in studded black leather with half-gloves - it was work boots and loose-fitting poncho-style shirts with rawhide laces and fabric that felt like gunny sack material. And when it got damp it smelled like wet dog.

But everything else was the same. Kids passing out ideological literature (libertarianism, conservation, communism), discussion of "the movement" (be it back-to-the-earth, feminism, the Jesus movement - you could pick your movement), cool band posters and radical album cover art (remember the inside of Steppenwolf's "For Ladies Only"? Shocking!), and loads of home made crafts (macrame' hanging plant pot holders made from hemp) and nasty-tasting but healthy baked goods. Yikes! I've entered The Twilight Zone!

I shoulda saved all my copies of Mother Earth News. They would've gone over big. And! My Mr. Natural cartoons...
keep on truckin', mama - truck my blues awayyyyy. Far out!

Were we all that earnest in those days? Yeah, I think so. Everyone had a secret (or open) dream of going off the grid and doing a little organic farming with renewable energy, raising some chickens... and some friends actually did! Spent a weekend once at a Christian Commune... discovered I don't really like chickens. :) But, man, what *was* great was to be quietly zealous about an idea and think that you could actually maybe go off and live according to it! Hm. I miss that.

Time to do that again, maybe. I kind of liked these kids. I recognized them - and myself - from another time. I'd like to be zealous for a cause again. And the corporate profit motive isn't cutting it as a cause around which to unify and get people excited.

So, with some magnetic letters I got in Juxtapoz magazine (J1 pointed it out to me - now skater art is becoming collectable! who knew?), I posted this reminder to myself on my bookcase at the office.

For the last... oh... 6 years or so, I've felt like my flame is sputtering, here in corporate America. Not enough oxygen in this part of the world.

Maybe if I get to a place where I spend my time filling young minds with something other than a rigid ideology and teach them instead how to reason through, understand, and relate to people with, philosophies other than their own, I can see that flame burn bright again until one day it just goes POP! and then I wake up in a place filled with pure motives.

(sigh)

Wouldn't that be lovely? Almost like living the simple life on a little organic farmette somewhere off the grid - with no chickens.

What a nice weekend!

What with both kids home, their grandparents here, plus uncle/aunt/cousins, it seemed like a normal Thanksgiving. Feels now like the house has been broken in, and is official! Family's been here. :)

There was a boatload of traditional food (of course) plus a few new recipes, all of which were yummy this year - sometimes they're not! The lounge was a favorite destination for the introverts in the family to sneak away and have a little privacy to read amidst the chaos upstairs. The bar was open, and used now and then - not a continuous stream by any means. But the tastings were fun! I mean, how often does a parent have the opportunity to do shots with your kids? Um, hey... that sounds a lot worse than it was...

And, as usual, shopping Friday in various combinations of people, the teenagers sleeping until noon (mostly), movies at the theatre and on the couch, grandpa doing projects in the house and yard, various people on the internet catching up on emails or tracking stocks or updating myspace accounts, the family band (cover your ears!), Carl and me writing a song and laying down guitar and vocal tracks on his portable 4-track recorder, and of course cards, cards, and more cards... the boy is good enough to keep himself in pocket money playing cribbage in college, but still can't beat the old man. Awww...

Everyone's gone now except the weeuns (as they say in Glasgow) and with them it's off to church this morning, a little Christmas decorating this afternoon and then off to the airport.

Next week... vacation's over. But it was nice while it lasted.

Medication

When I was back in the Midwest visiting my doctor (and daughter!) earlier this month, I knew something wasn't right. I hoped it would show up in the blood test result. And it did.

The Testosterone levels were at the low end of middle, but okay. The Thyroid levels were waaaaay off, though! The doc said that this could be the reason I was feeling more depressed and down, less able to handle stress. So she goosed the dosage, and already I can tell the difference. :) Better. Better.

What a difference this stuff makes. But you know, it also makes me wonder... can I even make decent decisions when my levels aren't right? Can I interpret circumstances properly? I'm starting to question my own judgement, and whether or not it's affected by the medication. Yikes!

Who Moved My Big Cheese?

This morning I'm supposed to be in a large meeting of field-based executives who are in for a semiannual confab. I'll be on the dais myself this afternoon around 4ish doing some technical training of the group. I always look forward to that type of experience. It's like being on stage, performing again. :)

But the first session today is a group of Big Cheeses doing a panel discussion for the assembled multitude, some of which are there because they long to simply touch the hem of an executive's garment and so have careers mystically healed. Yesterday the organizers were grousing about how there will be so many "crashers" (groupies, crowd followers, etc.) that they needed to expand the room, and still think it will be SRO. So, why not yield my seat to someone who gives a ... um, I mean, to someone who is truly eager to sit at the feet of the wise and learned. Well, I am too, I guess. The trick is to find some.

I recall not two months ago, when catching Rug and Mousewoman in an unguarded moment, that I heard her complain about the mess that still needs cleaning up from her predecessor's regime. Rug reported to her predecessor at the time of that conversation and gave her a fellow insider's knowing assent. That man (whom I'll refer to as Mr. Clean) is now the CXX or some such set of initials and is one of the big cheeses presenting this morning. I've met him, the CYY and the CZZ, too. I'm pretty sure that they wear pants and underwear like most of us do.

There are exceptions to that of course. I may have seen some of those exceptions in Scotland. ;) Dang it. I should have bought one of those things for myself. Woohoo, sure felt *that* breeze!

Passed the leadership trinity on the street on Tuesday, in fact. They were walking over to a photo shoot in a big hotel, and I was going to my desk from the parking garage. If I didn't know who they were, I would have thought they were the most ordinary of men. And they may be exactly that. Mr. Clean has that reputation anyway. People shake their heads and wonder how he got promoted.

Some people get promoted to be Big Cheeses because they are truly talented, with useful skills and abilities. Some get their shot because they are really good with people - natural leaders. Some can present a consistent, unruffled confident corporate image. And yet, others get promoted despite the fact that they possess none of the above, in a big time way. But they know somebody. Or are handy.

For a while I think that held true for me. I got shots at promotions and new assignments because I had mentors, not because I was good with people, had useful skills or exuded a corporate image. Instead, I'm withdrawn & aloof, have mediocre business skills at best, and exude quirkyness while being way too transparent about what I really think. Yet, I rose up the ladder... I think it was because a Big Cheese was helping me.

Since I left Wazoo Corp. (after the corporate takeover) that has NOT been the case, and the Peter Principle has come into play. The Peter Principle, for the uninitiated, is that we are always promoted to our level of incompetence. However, if you have a highly placed mentor, the Peter Principle is automatically suspended for you in that organization. And, if you rise high enough, even if you are incompetent the organization must not admit it, because it reflects poorly on their ability to identify talent. They have to promote you again to some place where you can't hurt them.

I recall some 15 years ago, and continuing for the next 7 or 8 years until about the year 2000, watching the Big Cheeses at Wazoo Corp. I tried to understand what made them successful, but I focused on their public behaviors, not their private connections or innate abilities. I would watch them work a room, speak to a group of middle managers, greet workers at lunch, etc. I thought - I'll be doing that some day; I'd better figure out how.

Not anymore. There's some combination of jadedness, cynicism, loss of ambition, recognition of my limitations, a sense that time is fleeting, a desire for greater meaning, etc., that has said to me: "stop stop stop!" I am *not* going to be a Big Cheese. I don't aspire to it, and I'm not going to even *try* to be one. In the sport of corporate ladder climbing, some need to be down on the field of play, some need to be spectators watching and cheering for their favorites, and some - like me - need to be in the broadcast booth doing color commentary. :) I've officially retired from professional ladder climbing. I'm the former athlete (not to be referred to as washed-up or has-been, however) turned analyst.

And really, I had my day in the sun as far as that goes. My last job at Wazoo was not a Big Cheese, but a good-sized one, a Nearly Big Cheese, I'd say. But even then, I wasn't corporate. I was quirky, entertaining, self-deprecating, transparent to the point of once in a while needing to be reprimanded by a Big Cheese for being too honest. You can tolerate that in a department head, even in a senior executive, the VP of Such and So. But not in anyone higher up than that. So... it won't be me as a Big Cheese. Too much of an outlier, too much of an oddball.

Now, I suppose if they dropped it on me, I'd take it. But, I would probably wind up being an embarrassment to someone if I were going to be true to myself. I think it would be better if I were named CSS (Chief Of Something Smaller.) Like a classroom maybe. :) Then I could be quirky, transparent, entertaining, emotional, and... be liked for it. The young minds full of mush would leave my class and say: "he is kind of a funny old guy, isn't he? Eccentric, you know; odd - but sweet. I like him. And I actually sort of understand what he's trying to say. He's definitely my most interesting class this semester."

I'd take that.

The envelope, please...

The check is in the mail! Today!

Okay, so it's Veterans' Day or something and it isn't going anywhere until tomorrow, but still - it's in the mail, doggone it!

My application to Grad School is en route, with money. Evening classes start January 4. I&II Samuel (OT225) on site and Emergence of the Church (NT112) on line. I'm going! I'm finally going.

God help me. I wanna do this well. I hope I'm not just fooling myself... I mean, me - seminary! Can that work?

Squeezing again

Met with Pebo & Rug yesterday for a 30 day followup on our "get your butt back in the office!" meeting of a month ago. Pebo continues to squeeze. Everytime I'm in a meeting with him, I start to itch. Even a group lunch where nobody discussed work - I was edgy and wanted to get away. What is it with me, with him? Arghh.

While I'm checking items off the to-do list, it still feels like the evaluation criteria of what success looks like for my department keeps changing based on whatever my business partners discuss with Pebo in the hallway this week. Perceptions are so slippery... I have a hard time knowing where to grab this fish to keep it from flopping out of my hands.

And, while I'm grabbing at the fish, Pebo is pouring more water on it, keeping it slippery, and watching me struggle while offering pithy commentary ("coaching"). Grrrrrr....

A dream deferred?

I've been mulling over a couple of verses lately:

Micah 6:8 He has told you, O man, what is good;
And what does the LORD require of you
But to do justice, to love kindness,
And to walk humbly with your God?

Proverbs 13:12 Hope deferred makes the heart sick,
But when the desire comes, it is a tree of life.



Some of you know that I've wanted for some, oh, 18 months or more now, to prepare for a change in careers as I get closer to retirement.

I know, I know, that's quite a ways off. 14+ years.

But a year and a half ago, before learning that my division was closing and my job was going away, it had seemed much closer. I had thought "5 more years until I can opt for early retirement and lock in retiree health benefits for later use when my income is low." And I thought "this will let me go back to school, get my Masters and then teach, without worrying about health coverage or a decent pension."

It seemed like such a good plan. I had struggled for so many years with supporting the profit expectations of my employers, when I really wanted to influence the generation coming up behind me to (as Micah the prophet says) "do justice, love kindness, walk humbly with their God", integrate their faith with the rest of their life, and behave ethically and compassionately in the marketplace. This was going to be my opportunity! So I enrolled in night school, excited about the dream.

But with the forced change in employment to a new company and a move to a new part of the country, away from support and away from school, that dream seemed dead. Now I will have to work until 65 at least, at a job that's demanding enough to preclude a course of study, or so it seems.

Yet, two Sundays ago, the pastor preached on the dreams in your heart, where they come from, whose they are, and how likely it is that they will come to pass. At the same time, I found an extension campus about an hour away from me which is affiliated with a great seminary in St. Paul. They offer classes Thursday nights in the exact major I was wanting to earn - an M.A. in Theological Studies.

All of a sudden, the dream maybe isn't dead anymore. Maybe... maybe...

I have a magnet on my cabinet at work, a quote from Mary Lou Retton. It says: "Each of us has a fire in our hearts for something... find it and keep it lit!"

Oh, I know what the fire is for - but can I keep it lit? For 18 months it's been out completely and I have felt its loss. I've been heartsick because of the hope that was deferred. Do I dare light the fire again?

50-something

(sigh)

I had to change the header of the blog today. I started this thing some 18 months ago or so, before the big 5-0. Now, I guess I can't say I'm "nearly-50" anymore. Awww...

"50ish" works though, I think. Then I won't have to change the header for a while. :)

And you know... if I could be 10 again, I wouldn't do it. It was not fun. 20 wasn't either (I'd just gotten fired.) And 30, 40 - no point in doing those over. I would never do child-rearing again (sorry, kids). Well, maybe if I got a government worker's pension out of the deal... nahhh! Not even that. Besides, they turned out pretty well the first time. :) If I did it over again, I might really mess them up.

These are good years to be alive and healthy. I like being this age. To me it's the best yet. I'm in decent shape, vigorous, have a trimmed back lifestyle, enough discretionary income to indulge myself now and then, enough accumulated wisdom to know when to hold back for the good of others, something to teach and share, brand new experiences all the time, and many many life goals checked off the list... these are the best years of my life. My twenties? Man, you can have 'em.

Two years ago, while preparing for a Sr. High Sunday School class, I made up this little proverb to sum up one's outlook on aging, and I think it holds true (at least everyone who's heard it says so):

You know you're grown up when you stop wanting to be older. You know you're old when you start wanting to be younger.

By that definition, I'm nowhere near old yet. I'm enjoying being this age. What is it, again? I forget... :)

Grace vs. Karma

The pastor (younger of the two) yesterday preached on having a dream, and how to know if it's one God has inpsired in you, or if it's one you sort of made up to satisfy yourself. Interesting, and it opened me up to an idea... but more on that another time.

During the sermon he referred to a song by U2 (his favorite band) called Grace. He referenced the line that says Grace "travels outside of karma". The song has a duality to it, referring not only to a girl with the name Grace but also to the idea of grace. You can see it in the lyrics that follow.

His point was that most religions (incl. Judeo/Christian) have some form of karma built in - you reap what you sow, etc., but what makes the Jewish and Christian religions unique is the concept of grace. Most religions say that we'll ultimately get what we deserve. But no others say that we ever receive *more* than we deserve. In most, even Paradise must be earned.

Mercy and grace are two sides of the same coin. Mercy is NOT getting what we rightly have coming to us (condemnation due to wrongdoing), and grace is GETTING what we have no right to at all (intimate fellowship with a Holy God.) If anyone knows of a religion like that, other than Judaism/Christianity... what is it?



Grace
She takes the blame
She covers the shame
Removes the stain
It could be her name

Grace
It's a name for a girl
It's also a thought that changed the world
And when she walks on the street
You can hear the strings
Grace finds goodness in everything

Grace, she's got the walk
Not on a ramp or on chalk
She's got the time to talk
She travels outside of karma
She travels outside of karma
When she goes to work
You can hear her strings
Grace finds beauty in everything

Grace, she carries a world on her hips
No champagne flute for her lips
No twirls or skips between her fingertips
She carries a pearl in perfect condition

What once was hurt
What once was friction
What left a mark
No longer stings
Because grace makes beauty
Out of ugly things

Grace makes beauty out of ugly things

Easing his grip

Met with Pebo today, and reviewed status on a number of things. He was pleased and very encouraging. I felt his grip loosening. Ahhhh...

And yet, I know if I let down for a second and he gets nervous, he'll start squeezing again. Maybe a dog wearing a shock collar is a good analogy. Get too close to the edge of the lawn (or in my case, too far astray from the work plan) and... zap!

(sigh)

My dog, Inferno, got used to it. Maybe I will too! :) He still gets into mischief in the house. I'll bet I still can. ;)

Ha. Right. Mischief at my age. That reminds me of a song lyric sung in the 40's by Julia Lee, a rhythm & blues singer. She sings to her aging lover man:

When you were young,
Your motor was fine.
Now your rear end's shot,
You're in low gear all the time!

You ain't got it no more.
You ain't got it no more.
Can't get yourself arrested!
You ain't got it no more.



Not me, though. Hey, baby, I still got it! Oh yeah!

Um, I think so anyway.

Hm.

Feeling Squeezed

It was a tough week this week. Since I lost Alpaca for a dotted-line boss, and picked up Pebo in his place, the intensity level has ratcheted way up. Pebo has a hands-around-the-throat management style (or at least that's how it feels to me), and when he feels pressure from Mousewoman, his boss, the approach that he seems to resort to with his staff is... squeeze tighter.

Now, for a guy like me who's highest value/need in life has historically been autonomy (you know, setting my own course, making my own choices, not following a script, being the car on the highway with no one in front of him...) this is uncomfortable. I don't mind being responsible for my own choices, and I always have done so. I DO mind having my choices being prescribed for me by others, or influenced to such an extent (by others whom I care about, or for whom I have responsibility, or to whom I owe allegiance) that I feel I really have NO choice at all, and must do X, or else the result is too harmful to those around me, even though it's not really what I want for myself. I chafe at that, and always have.

But in the past, I've had more ability to tolerate it, bite back the irritation, compromise and give in, than I do now. With all that's happened over the last 18 months, recovering from medical issues, adjusting to medications, losing my chance at early retirement & grad school & career change, losing my job and having to uproot, starting over again, leaving loved ones of all sorts behind, losing my Dad and my brother, losing resources with financial setbacks from the relocation, etc., etc.... I have less capacity to handle stress and disappointment than I've had in the past. It's like having an immune system that's compromised, so that any little illness becomes a major deal.

So when my boss, and therefore the rules/expectations at work, change mid-stream, I find it more of a blow, harder to take than usual. And it spills over into how I handle everything else. Personal (interior) life, family life, work life - it's all interrelated and running together these days, I can't compartmentalize. My tendency when faced with this is to want to get some space, hit the open road, and let everybody figure things out on their own, me included. When I feel constrained by circumstances I can't control, my instinct is to jump the fence, and behave like the wild untamed stallion, not like the gelding broken to saddle and bridle which everyone prefers.

Scotland is calling me back. :)

Reality

bites, or so I've heard it put.

Too bad vacations have to end. :)

Back to piled up emails, projects that haven't finished, concerned bosses, people needing direction, an overfull and rapidly changing calendar. And that's just at work.

(sigh)

From what I read, Heaven is not one long vacation, but it's just life (and work) in Paradise, without the work having to be by the sweat of your brow and without all the thorns and thistles that come up along with the vegetables...

I'm ready for that. Work that is not frustrating or counterproductive. What a great idea. Who came up with that, anyway? ;)

I could get angry at Adam for screwing it up for everybody... but - I am Adam.

Scotland!

is soooo different from Iceland. What contrasts!

Castles in lush countryside...

to kilts in an urban setting...

from the traditional...

to the historically innovative...

to the very modern...

grace and charm blended, in a vibrant working-class city full of the friendliest people! They really mean it here when they say Cheers!

I could stay here a while. While waiting for my bus, I was tempted to miss it completely and not come back at all! :)

Iceland!

How to describe it here?

It´s ethereal, bleak, stark, austere, rugged, active, varied.

The weather is 45 degrees, misty, breezy, overcast. Perfect! :)

Spent day one touring the city and going to the spa (see pictures).

For all the quaintness and picturesqueness of the city shown to tourists, there is also a "back of the house" that's less presentable.

Day two was spent seeing the sights of nature during the day (see pictures),

and the club scene at night (NO pictures!).

Day three (today) is spent catching up on email and blogging, organizing pictures, and shopping.

And oh yes, eating! So far... lamb soup, lamb hot dogs, skyr (a variation on yogurt), herring (ick), fish and chips, fish buffet, muesli, cold cuts for breakfast, and lots & lots of coffee.

It seems too soon to leave... but Glasgow awaits.