Back in the day, I used to frequent some social media sites. For the most part, I viewed it as an avenue to coach up student athletes away from the field. As life evolved, that went away, and business centered sites became prevalent as a way to communicate ideas. That has since been hibernated.
This platform has been pretty much a constant in my life and will remain so far as I know. Emails are “ok” for work, but nothing will ever beat a voice on the phone or a face to face somewhere, some time with some body. I think that is what appeals to me about being here, with you all now, on line.
We seem to be together.
I can sit in the kitchen, wearing shorts and a warm beanie, look out the window and watch Chris and Rich hop around the yard hunting for scraps, chat about the daily prompt or whatever else works its way into my bald noggin. As close as I am likely to get to having a sit down with each of you. You would prolly want to bring your own coffee. Mine isn’t to die for, but to die because of.
Letters remain the best way to connect. Nothing will ever beat a hand written note to another. They aren’t tucked away in some e-file, folder or drive. They get opened, read, and tucked away in a drawer that is entered and exited every day. There is great joy to be found in sharing yourself with others in that fashion. A part of you is left in the ink on that page, in that envelope.
Since I became acquainted with expressing myself here, it seems to be the closest thing I found to pen and paper. Not ever a replacement. But a genuine source of warmth and connection. Hopefully for the reader. Definitely for this writer. Despite the miles and time zones, one thing is for sure.
One of the most precious aspects of this “congregation”, so to speak, is that we all simply get to share. To delve into what is happening between the ears and pur out some of what is swelling within our hearts. Nothing is dictated. No expectation. Rules? Guidelines? KPI’s?
Nope.
Just being ourselves, wherever that happens to be in the process. Sharing. Not telling, Advising. Stating. Laying out. Instructing. Simply sharing bits and pieces of ourselves to all that is willing to hear, read and feel. “Prompt” has its own sense and level of urgency tied to it. Not so much, “hey, get off your ass and get going here Hahn!” But a more subtle, “you know, you find writing affirming , fulfilling and just plain old fun, so you should set aside a moment or two to just be, Hahn.”
All of which fits into the mission. I will phrase it that way for now as that is more honest than claiming ownership of this venture. It is more so a way forward that was offered by another. It is just that I neglected to hear what was being said and see what I was being shown.
Initially, my mission was one of self destruction masked by the guise of self determination. Knowing all, showing all, telling all and being all to “all” is how I went about “life”, if you want to call it that. Perhaps on a technicality. Being friends, I can share this part of me with you now.
The faux sense of self determination was born not of self knowledge, but more so of selflessness. Without a true estimation of one’s value, abided by low self esteem, reinforced by a pervasive sense of shame, my mission was to please those around me. When I first discovered this, resentment – focused on those that couldn’t appreciate what I “had” – sank in and took control.
Upon deeper discernment and reflection, a revelation of sorts made its presence known. Looking back on it, maybe “presents” – like Mr. Keane suggested – is more appropriate. Because what I came to understand unwrapped an ongoing stream of gifts. The ultimate realization that I sought others, relationships and life on the basis of having those experiences confirm my complete self unawareness has provided me with the foundation for an entirely different mission.
It’s about time.
Not that traveling this new territory doesn’t come with its share of anxiety, doubts and plain old fear. But it surrounds me with an all encompassing sense of peace and serenity. I can control things in my grasp, like how I react and respond to situations and instances. If I choose to get into disputes. Tell someone what they “need” to do because, you know, I have proven myself as an authority about life. I can engage with everyone around me, or just smile and move on to my next activity.
Each day reveals another aspect of me that had been cordoned off and unseen for much of my life. The chances I take now are to listen more and choose my words and timing thereof with their feelings being the center of my concern. Carrying around the weight of all those disappointments, regrets and failures is no longer an aspect of my fitness routine. Finally, I can start to utter the phrase, “you aren’t such a bad man after all, Hahn.”
That being said, for better of for worse, my mission got me to this point. Now that I have come to the conclusion that I desperately need to contract out any updates or new versions of my true vocation, He will be taking the reins.
It wasn’t really my mission all along. I just thought it was. Now, looking back, it has always been His. I just needed to figure that out and let go so I could get after it.
Longevity ebbs and flows in my family. I remember my grandpa driving at 97, before he thought Uber was a better mode of transport. Well, maybe not Uber, but “Uncle”. Then there is my younger brother that just passed two years ago.
So it is what it is.
As far as I am concerned, for the purposes of today’s assignment, it comes down to being fully intentional about making the most of what you have been gifted.
Experience tells me that allocating the precious resources granted for this moment towards resentment, regret and retribution of the past is not what it is cracked up to be. Then, if you embark in advance of the here and now predicated on the approach of, “…that didn’t work, so I will cut this corner and use that short cut this time sround”, you pretty much added to an already sorrowful past.
The past is what it was. The future is what it may be. The present is just that, a present like Mr. Keane said a few days ago. That being said, I have no clue as to what living a long life is to me. If I can make the most out of every hour of every day going forward, then that will elongate my stay here.
When it comes time to give my notice, my only desire is that I can rest in peace knowing I gave it my everything. We are all gifted this position here on earth. Toiling in the dirt and debris of the past or buzzing about in the ether of the future would make me a worm or a fly. Nothing against them, but I like to think my focus needs to be on living life, not looking for feces.
So perhaps my longevity ends up somewhere between my grandpa and my brother. So be it.
Once I embarked on my journey towards faith, two things were revealed. One, that the story would remain a constant, following a path that shared the seasons. This brings with it a sense of peace and serenity, knowing the way. But more stunning to me is the fact that along each step of the way, I become aware of something new, different and touching.
Perhaps it is how the story is told, through a multitude of voices, perspectives and experiences that provides greater impact and deeper meaning. Add to that the fact that the moments and revelations shared were not of this century, the prior, or even millenia. They were uttered or written long, long ago, spoken in to others with ancient tongues and dialects, detailed with reed and papyrus. And yet, at this instant, they maintain a revelance and power far beyond anything today.
Just over the past few days, John speaks of the difference of being one of the world and being one of God. How our infirmities and debilitation is fostered, raised and enhanced by things all around us. Being caught up in these concerns, like resentment, ego and self-righteousness, takes one down a ruinous path, speaking from my own experience. But upon letting go of things born of the world around you, an altogher different life takes hold. In a comforting, sustaining and altogher safe way.
His only son was sent here to teach all of us how to live and to love. When you feel as though there is nothing left for you, that you are worthless, unvalued and ruined, you can leave this world behind. Not in a hopeless manner. But in a hope-full approach. So as to truly be what you were made for, with true intention, trust and the knowledge that you are loved steadfastly and singularly.
We may be on the earth for now, but by no means does this require us to be of this world. We have the free will to choose.
“Yesterday is history, tomorrow is a mystery, today is a gift of God, which is why we call it the present.” ― Bil Keane
He is the creator of “The Family Circus” cartoon, one of the first places I ventured, growin’ up, when the Sun-Times or Tribune was delivered on Franklin Street. Mr. Keane said that his name was spelled “Bil” because his parents knocked the “L” out of him for using the walls as his easel when he began to draw.
The past has its place. Back there. A resource like that spot in the library where the records of all the books, stories and reference material being stored was kept and maintained. While it has its function, living in the Dewey Decimal System is counter productive. Going back now and again to better understand how you got to be where you are now is a healthier way to employ the past.
Tomorrow is truly a mystery. All you can do to get an unkling as to what is to come the next morning, is to do all you can, to the best of your abilities before your noggin hits the pillow the night before. You could awake to calm waters, a steady tail wind and nothing but clear skies ahead. Or, you could face a tempest that will do its best to wring you out and question your own existence. Either way, you are meant to adapt and acheive. You just have to keep the short and Raybans next to the rain gear and boots.
Today is a present.
His gift to each of us. Opened at our discretion, used to the fullest we choose and then granted a decimal to keep the events in order for future reference. We are granted the grace to make the best of what we have been given. To create profound yesterdays and once in a life time tomorrows.
...my temporary assignment. 