A post on minimalism If movies have taught me one thing it is this: every great relationship experiences fall out. Social media and I are going on a break. In the wake of Cal Newport’s Digital Minimalism, I’ve been convicted to address my technology problem. A relationship expert might say my phone and I have a co-dependent power struggle with poorly defined boundaries and exhausting mental maintenance requirements. Here are some examples. Each morning I open my phone for a daily reading. Before I get there, I’ve opened the wrong folder and three other apps. The alert from my weekly screen time report vibrates in my pocket on the second song each Sunday at church. I struggle to refocus. What if it is something else? After too many weeks of fragmented worship I realized I should put my phone on do not disturb when I arrive. If you are curious the data for the last 7 days is 64 pickups and 2 hrs. 17 minutes per day. When I have trouble sleeping I whip out my phone. When I’m bored I whip out my phone. When I’m uncomfortable I whip out my phone. When I don’t know where I am going I whip out my phone. When I have a random thought I whip out my phone. My favorite jeans have a hole worn in the pocket from the number of times my phone goes in and out. It would be more embarrassing to be this honest if I did not see millions with the same affliction. Most of the situations I described are commonplace and there is a cultural bias against people without these issues. In the intro Newport hammered me with this statement, “We added new technologies to the periphery of our experience for minor reasons, then woke one morning to discover that they had colonized the core of our daily life.” The improper relationship with my phone is robbing me of quality stimulation, robbing others of my attention and respect, robbing myself of highly valuable time, and robbing nature of my awe and wonder. It is fragmenting my attention and destroying my focus. These are the hard truths of evaluation and breakup. Let’s get to the good part. My great hope for this breakup is this: if social media and I are meant to be we will rejoin stronger than ever with a clearly defined and healthy relationship. We will live deliberately. To successfully fill my harvested minutes I will be inputting more high ticket activities. Pocket journals, better conversations, quality photos, meaningful projects, home-cooked meals, exercise, poetry, meditation, and prayer. If I exchange half of my pickups for prayers of gratitude there will be immediate side effects of wholesomeness. Garnishing strength from these activities I am confident I'll be capable of integrating social media well, or perhaps living just fine without it. If you have arrived down here, dear reader, I want to encourage you to audit your own technologies. If you live with them deliberately, embrace it. Well done. Technology is a powerful and wonderful tool. If, like me, your phone has begun to own you, then take some real action. Strike at the root. Life is no hollow imitation. It is real, and it is beautiful. Lay your hands on it. Listen to its heart beat. No social media means this blog will be sent out only via email. If you are not already subscribing you can click on the word subscribe below and enter your email to get a weekly update. If you think, “Wow! More people should hear this” and you want to share that would be pretty neat.
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I have not, in specific terms, set forth an intention for the content in this blog. In the beginning I stated my "Why" and set a goal to post weekly. Until now the content has been varied. I've enjoyed posting, and each week has been a new and valuable lesson to me in the reading, writing, learning and evaluating process. Now it is time to focus. It is only fair to you, dear reader, that you enter prepared. My future posts will be in three categories I value. Minimalism Sustainability Joy: rooted in truth These three topics are important to me, and I firmly believe they are important to the human condition. Consumerism, materialism, novelty, and an overwhelming number of options are drowning out the space for humans to connect with each other and with their own values. These things are literally depressing. We are fragmented, bitter, angry, anxious, lonely, disorganized, or disconnected from reality. There is counteraction and hope. Minimalism is letting go and stripping down to arrive at an authentic core, a naked truth. And as we arrive closer to authentic reality we begin to feel the sensations of being alive. This is what minimalism means to me. Sustainability is, intentionally, a broad topic. But, at it's center, sustainability is about longevity and useful life. This is what I am seeking, and what I hope others are seeking. I'd like to be something more than a momentary flame. I want to be a consistent burn spreading goodness and warmth with those around me through perseverance, perspiration, and encouragement. Lastly, I will write about joy rooted in truth and obedience. This type of obedience doesn't look like intolerance, a closed mindset, or dogmatism. Joy from obedience is achieving something by accepting my limitations and following something greater than myself. In this joy I find acceptance, affirmation, intentional living, and purity of emotion. The feeling I receive from a thousand acts of daily courage is what I want to write about. I’ll continue to post weekly through the end of this year on these three topics. You (and I) will receive practical life advice touching more than just a surface level action, but keying into the underlying principle and moral. Good literature, good conversation, strenuous activity, and time outdoors are key factors to this type of content creation. So, I want to commit to you, and to myself, to continue making these things part of my daily life. Finally, dear reader, I want to let you know that for September I will be absent from all social media. This means my links will only be shared via email. If you would like to receive these alerts please subscribe by clicking the bold, underlined word "here" and entering your email address. You will get one email per week with a link to my post. here If you have arrived all the way at the end, thank you. I want to encourage you to examine the factors contributing to your own great content. Like Bob Goff tells us, “figure out what fuels your joy.” What makes you feel present? Write it down. Now do it as many days as you can.
At least half my siblings were openly weeping, myself included, as we waited silently for my dad to continue speaking. In large family fashion we were congregated, some sitting on couches, chairs, armrests, some standing, some swaying back and forth to keep children hushed or sleeping. Early summer sunshine streamed in the living room windows. Commemoration brought us together. Celebration of a finish line. Nine graduated students and nearly 30 years of home education complete.
Each of us gave a small speech, and then Mom and Dad in conclusion were asked “how did you do it?”. Through tears of her own mom conveyed her gratitude and encouraged us to stress less and trust more. And in poignant and simple fashion my father said, “we [your mother and I] were obedient.” This week I finished an encouraging read called “Celebration of Discipline”. The closing chapter is all about joy, and Foster’s words revived this memory. “In the spiritual life only one thing will produce genuine joy, and that is obedience. . .To elicit genuine celebration, obedience must work itself into the ordinary fabric of our daily lives.” The little caveat to joy in the title I have listed is essential. Joy rooted in truth. Joy and happiness are different. This is not news. Happiness is momentary and joy is pervasive. Joy is what all of us intensely desire because it is the genuine, authentic, goodness life has to offer. It is the overflowing of one’s cup. In my life, this definition is how minimalism, and sustainability meld with joy, and it is why obedience is the essential ingredient. In my last post I quoted a leading researcher in “whole-hearted living” who said, abundance is available when we lose a mindset of scarcity. Abundance is attainable by letting go of the striving in a paradoxical effort to be content and in this way experience growth. In Simon Sinek’s case studies in “Start with Why” he reiterates the principle: trust inspires loyalty. In letting go of a desire to control, I position myself in a way where I am more prepared to receive than if I attempted to be manipulative and power hungry. Said another way, the humility to recognize I can never own everything or know everything or be everything or do everything leads to contentment knowing I may miss out, but it will be ok. This is the principle mindset of minimalism, and this is the essence of obedience, because it stems from something deeper than a moment. In all my own vain striving and struggle for power and control I can evaluate my circumstances by submitting my current desire to some overarching value. Obedience necessitates humility and trust. It requires me to put something else above myself. Consistently. Not because I must, but because I want to. Obedience is the lighter burden. A lighter burden we bear up every day. A burden of perseverance to the hard path of vulnerability and faith. In place of this challenge most of us turn to mind-numbing media, to pointing fingers at other people, struggling for power, or just not caring about anything. Most of us means me. Suffering happens, and somehow, I’m tasked with overcoming it and still being vulnerable and still having faith? I would rather put a lid on my cup and avoid all the potential for suffering. But joy is not possible without vulnerability, and vulnerability is not possible without acceptance of our inability to know and control everything, and this acceptance is not possible without humility, and humility is not possible without elevation of something else above the self. Consistently. Even when it is difficult. Subversion and submission are requirements for joy. This week I celebrated the third anniversary of my marriage to a wonderful human. I do not think 3 years makes me a marriage expert, but what I have learned is that marriage is difficult because I’m really good at getting in my own way. It is constant consideration and constant vulnerability. Learning to trust, to release my own shame, to be vulnerable and honest, to accept pain when it comes and healing when it comes, to be less judgmental, to be more patient, and to nurture growth by balancing courage and compassion, these things are endlessly difficult. They require me to be obedient to a vow rooted in love when I want to be selfish and indulge something fleeting. It is easy to seek out comfort and pleasure and to believe these things are joy. It is easy to commit our bodies to hard work and forget about joy. But in fact, these are large gates that are easy to get in to and side step joy altogether. Joy is deep and pervasive. It goes all the way through the body and the mind and into the past and the future. It permeates our sense of being. Happiness, pleasure, comfort, effort and strain, they hit small parts of the body in innocuous ways. They are fleeting gratifications and a partial filling. Joy is the overflowing. Happiness is a conquest. Joy, for me, is waking up in the morning and love rushing in to my heart because I kissed her warm cheek and it started a feeling of adoration coursing through my body and shooting out the toes and fingers and eyes while the all-consuming thought in my brain is, “this gorgeous creature married me?” This type of joy for me runs deep and collides with love and hope and faith. It is what gives me the ability to persist, and to let go and to trust that love is deeper than my striving, it is smarter than my petty attempts to control, it is truer than my shame, it is more powerful than my defensive manipulations, it is humbler and more dedicated than my martyrdom, and it is more graceful than my bitterness. Love exists in the purity of joy, and joy in truth, and truth in this, that whoever should be first shall be last, and whoever shall be great must be humbled, and there is a never-ending stream and faithful guide who, if I should follow in obedience, will fill my cup abundantly. If only I would stop and remove the lid. It is possible to have enough and still grow. It is possible to be content and not complacent. Hang with me and I will explain. Last year I tripped over minimalism in a book and picked it up. Since I was raised in a spirit-filled church I get to “claim things for my life” (Amen). So, I claimed minimalism. My efforts in minimalism were spiritual and physical and proved useful because we ended up moving about 8 months later. I wrote seven posts detailing physical changes and their spiritual repercussions, or perhaps spiritual changes and their physical repercussions. However you want to look at it. After I closed, I felt great about continuing this minimalist path with one nagging exception. At 6-years-old I read a book called “If Everybody Did” by Jo Ann Stover. A thought provoking read on individualism as it relates to social health. 10/10 would recommend. This book is a filter for a lot of my value framing. As I began to believe in minimalism I started imagining a free-market, capitalist economy surviving a minimalist epidemic. What would happen if everybody did? Curiosity led to research, and more research and I am still researching. Macroeconomics is never conclusive. In their theorizing some say the service sector can grow, investment will stay strong but may have lower yields, and there is potential for slow-growth, no growth, and de-growth economies to succeed. I was comforted to know some smart people believe we can live on without rampant consumerism and be economically stable and environmentally sustainable. But still, won’t the entrepreneurial spirit key to American culture fall by the wayside? The answer is no. Minimalism leads to growth. It seems paradoxical but Brene Brown, a researcher and author, in her book “Daring Greatly” lent me language surrounding this concept. Brown says, “The opposite of scarcity is enough. . . and if the opposite of scarcity is enough, then practicing gratitude is how we acknowledge that there’s enough and that we’re enough.” What Brown is saying, is contentment, gratitude, believing in "enough" is the path to a growth mindset instead of an anxious, fixed mindset. Believing in scarce resources generates a feeling of constant worry. And this feeling of constant worry is a sure-fire way for a business, or a person to self-destruct and retract rather than sustain and grow. Here is a real life example . I recently needed to book a hotel. Perusing these sites trying to snag a killer deal I was bombarded with messages saying, “this many people are looking at this” “this many remaining” “BOOK NOW and get THIS PRICE”. This tactic is used all the time to drive sales. Advertisers want to trick me in to thinking I might miss out if I don’t buy right now. But the sweet joy of minimalism is believing “there will be enough”. This is the great difficulty of my generation, we’ve got options and lots of fear about choosing the wrong one and advertisers have sophisticated ways to infiltrate our minds. Billions are spent each year trying to convince us we need things. Very little is spent letting us know we have everything we need. Minimalism in my life is all about understanding I may miss out. And that is OK. I have what I need. My wife is my daily inspiration for simplifying my life. The thing I love most about her is her commitment to being. While most look for masks to wear in different situations, she only knows to be herself. Instead of reaching like a lake across a wide expanse with only a few feet of depth, she is a well. She is concentrated and deep, through and through. What claiming minimalism brings me is a commitment to this single line. It is a lifestyle of select depth and root level adjustment. Instead of medicating, it is eating well and exercising. Instead of hacks and tips; it is a lifestyle change. Instead of organizing masks it’s being genuine in each of my roles. The results I hope for are authenticity, focus, and peace. Closing the tabs on the 100 things pulling at my attention to zero in on the things deserving of my time, space, money, and energy. As a wise commenter posted in response to one of my original minimalism posts, “I’ve heard minimalism is saying no to a lot of things so we can say yes to what truly matters.” This is a growth mindset. This is letting go of "I'm not enough" and opening up to depth and vulnerability. This is enough. Dear Reader, to live out my conviction to become more minimal and achieve sustainable growth I have decided to delete all social media during the month of September. My goal is to focus on having better conversations and greater levels of human interaction. My encouragement to you this week is to examine an area where you feel like you are losing control, and instead of trying to regain control, let it go. Let all the little nagging anxieties and attention seekers fall by the wayside and dive in deep with what really matters. If you want stuff like this delivered to your inbox each week click here. And if you think other people would benefit from reading please share.
It is always a good time to speak about Minimalism. Sometimes I buy the lie, “There are enough people writing about minimalism, sustainability, and following Jesus. It’s tapped out.” But I see ads and chains, and endless waste and brokenness, and I remember there are billions of dollars spent selling us the idea we need more stuff to be happy, or religious, or whole. Contentment will always be a narrow path, and minimalism is an unnatural joy. We cannot stop writing about it. We cannot stop sharing the hope. Recently, I’ve had an influx of positive input. People I respect brought me excellent artifacts and lent me the exact language I’ve been struggling to find. I am going to step aside and let these profound words stand on their own feet. Digital Minimalism--shared by a trusted church leader In this book Cal Newport addresses the misconception we can manage the damaging parts of technology with “tips, tricks, and hacks”. Specifically, he references things like, setting timers, moving the phone across the room at night, deleting apps for a short period of time, and all the other things I have literally done without successfully eradicating the driving thirst created by my hand-held device. These actions make me feel better instead of making me be better. Life change requires depth in place of surface level adjustment. “There are a thousand hacking at the branches of evil to the one who is striking at the root.” ~from Walden by Henry David Thoreau Newport is going to tell me more about not being controlled by my technology. I am excited and, admittedly, nervous to learn. Technological duplicity is easier than simplicity. But I know minimalism creates space for depth and focus—two things I desperately want. Two things I can have, according to the podcast I reference next. Soul Minimalism--shared by a dedicated sibling In “The Next Right Thing” podcast, Emily P. Freeman starts with an episode called “Soul Minimalism”. Her talk hinges on this statement. “Just like my home, my soul receives frequent input, without frequent output.” She then poses the question, “How am I regularly getting rid of the soul clutter I no longer need? . . difficult conversations, the suspicious glance that someone might give us, the thing we said that we wish we could take back. . . those things are sticky. And they stick in our souls.” She recommends sitting in silence. Creating space to be attentive, and to listen without an agenda. And she invites us to give ourselves permission to do one thing at a time, to reduce our need to do everything at once and replace it with, “the next right thing.” A beautiful and simple invitation to let go of worry and stress and fear. A perfect segue into the next artifact. Celebration of Discipline--shared by a wise friend, relative, coach, and constant example of wisdom In times of need or want or worry it is, for me, easy to cling to things. Anger, bitterness, anxiety, depression, and materialism run easily in and are reluctant to exit. Richard J. Foster introduced me to a simple and profound practice. He called it “palms up, palms down” and it links the body, mentality, and soul posture. “Begin with your palms down as a symbolic indication of your desire to turn over any concerns you may have. . . Whatever it is that weighs on your mind or is a concern to you just say, ‘palms down’. Release it.” Yesterday I palms downed insecurity because I know it is a stepping stone to pride, judgement and the accumulation of negative thought. “Palms downing” insecurity felt more like insurrection than self-deprecation. It’s a freedom, and it side-steps the negative spiral I instigate when I focus on personal weakness. “Palms up.” Here is Foster’s example, “Lord I would like to receive your divine love for John, your peace about the dentist appointment, your patience, your joy.” This exercise is called “centering down.” If you have arrived here, Dear reader, I am going to give you an encouragement. Create time to release. Close the tabs. Let go of the craving and open to the richness of being. You do not have to go and get it. It is already in you. Give it a little bit of space to grow. And now some Birdtalker. “Palms down, palms up.”
They told me it would change me The open-mindedness The unfamiliarness The freedom The structure The system The doubtful told me They told me I'm a grown up I need to be responsible Factual I can’t think like a child Or watch Sandlot Or be imaginative Or curious The mature told me They told me life is money To be concerned To be stingy To get rich The successful told me They lied. I am the same small child Sitting in the same spot Thinking and imagining the same things In the most generous, carefree Simple way I know how. Right here, I am the same Because they told me, “You are loved” The ones who matter told me This week I leave Indy--the city I have called home for 26 years. Looking at the faces of the people here, reflecting on memories and examining the environments in which I've grown up, I am filled with an endless stream of gratitude. Life is a collaboration of social pressures that squeeze us into being. That statement is a hope and not a fact. The people and places surrounding me have been exceptional. It is a relentless comfort to feel joy in mourning, and sadness with change. I feel rich. Dear Reader, tell someone you love them.
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I love Tolkien’s hobbits for more than just their barefoot lifestyle. They’re brimming with simplistic and indulgent nature, humble loyalty, pure intention. In Lewis and Tolkien’s high fantasy novel series they both write heroes as humble characters like children and hobbits. Their champions live further than what everyone else sees in them. Reflecting on my goals for this week’s post I ran across a Tolkien quote, “It's a dangerous business, Frodo, going out your door. You step onto the road, and if you don't keep your feet, there's no knowing where you might be swept off to.” Writing has been getting me through some large changes in my life. I’ve written roughly 5000 words in the past few weeks. There is a never-ending stream of thought, but all of it comes out shrouded in a summer haze, lacking clarity of purpose, conviction and vision. And without vision writing is just noise. Surface level words written for writing. If I am writing this way, it’s probable I am living this way—without a solid grip on the question “who are you?” If I go outside and put my bare feet in the grass and stare at the clouds for a little while the image gets clearer. And when things get clearer I put them on the page for a tangible reminder of my identity. We do all sorts of things to sort out identity. Some of us tattoo it on ourselves so it’s always present. Some of us wear our identity in our clothes or with our accessories or our vehicles: iPhone, Galaxy. Prada, Gucci, Oakley, Rae Ban, Tesla, BMW, Jordan, Polo, Pottery Barn. There is an easy switch to make in vulnerable times, from “this is well made” to “This makes me.” (Check out the art at the bottom of this post for more on that idea). When these things are nearby they give a solid sense of comfort about who I am and how people will perceive me. That’s good PR. Brands do, and should, communicate a message about who we are, and environments should be designed to evoke an emotion or a sense of being. But the mistake is when there is a shift from, “this communicates my identity” to, “this makes my identity.” Everything is communication. The sensational things give corporeal feedback for interpretation. Tangible, external items are internalized, evaluated and turned into identity. Buying a pair of hiking boots and having them in my closet can make me believe I am “naturey” even if I only hike twice in a year. It’s an appeasement, and it communicates a message that can be a bit misleading. It’s inevitable we acquire pieces of identity that don't necessarily align with how we actually live. It is so easy it’s dangerous. Consumerism is subtly persuasive and plucks at the depth of our souls. The gatekeepers have their own motivations, which means they can’t be trusted. So, it’s vital I’m responsible for my own consumption. To uphold this responsibility, I’ve been systematically losing things or attempting to be OK with them going away. In fact, it seems both the intentional and unintentional destination of my adult life has been a stripping down of all my tangible identities. But when the brand is gone, and the house is gone, and home is miles away and my naked feet are traversing an open road I still need and have identity. It is at this point I pray my life can be lived inside-out, and the underneath part will still be living a naked truth in every vulnerable place I go. . As things in my life are lost or left or changed, in each new place, like Tolkien’s Hobbits, I hope The Shire is in my heart. My family and my roots, my faith and belief, I know they go with me. Home is a place existing in my mind, but it makes adventure possible, not impossible. The intangible sense of who I am, the character part, is rooted in something deeper than the brands and buildings surrounding me. It is a mural of the people whose hearts are in mine. There is a place and an environment I know as home, but my hope is my home lives in me, and is communicated tangibly in my words and actions—in a strong hand of friendship, a soft word of kindness, a dedication to show-up, a desire to act honorably and love deeply. I carry these things with me and they help me keep my feet. Dear Reader, I am ending this post with an encouragement. Evaluate, with me, whether your communication of identity is in what you do, or what you own. If you want stuff like this delivered to your inbox each week click here. And if you think other people would benefit from reading please share.
i carry your heart with me(i carry it in I have written three full posts this week. I am not sharing any of them. Sometimes it is right to give up on words and let things more like art express what I can't form. Branded in the mind Etched like chisel on stone They work tirelessly Spent nearly a decade on this This piece Piece of something. I'm not sure Where it goes or what it does It looks finished Feels finished It isn't closed Sometimes I explore it All the way to its steep edges Thinking I can put it to sea Gently nudge it into the wind And watch it sail far, far away Or fall heavily and sink A brief case of lead memory Plummeting to the fathomless deep Lost in sight and mind forever Until it washes up at my feet Dredged up by the fleet I sent after it And I open it. Again And again And again Always the same result They bend their minds over their craft And sing endlessly for mercy The Fascination of What's Difficult ~ William Butler Yeats The fascination of what's difficult Has dried the sap out of my veins, and rent Spontaneous joy and natural content Out of my heart. There's something ails our colt That must, as if it had not holy blood Nor on Olympus leaped from cloud to cloud, Shiver under the lash, strain, sweat and jolt As though it dragged road metal. My curse on plays That have to be set up in fifty ways, On the day's war with every knave and dolt, Theatre business, management of men. I swear before the dawn comes round again I'll find the stable and pull out the bolt. Dear reader, do something challenging. If not for the joy of it, for the sweat and the unrelenting will inside you to persist. Love the sweet, salty taste of effort. You exist. Today is going to be light and summery. Saturated in sunshine and water. Reflective of sunsets from docks or boats or beaches after long days of hard play and the sweet smell of grilled food. Happy Independence Day. It’s a common joke in a college baseball clubhouse that pitchers aren’t athletes. They don’t hit, most can’t field, some can’t even throw the ball to first base. During my time as a pitcher I helped perpetuate some stereotypes. Awareness of my body in space and adeptness at adjusting my body to changing situations, not my forte. I like to say I make moves premeditated and got decent by habit and size not skill. One summer I had free time, and I spent a good chunk of my free time going to the lake with my college roommates to do general stupid college guy stuff. Like inventing new ways to almost die but not die. (Have you seen the video where they put 12 guys on one rope swing??) There is this one dock ideal for gainers (run forward, flip backwards). But, I’m not an athlete. And it seemed like no amount of premeditation helped me let go of the fear that prevents people from changing direction mid-air to flip backwards. 50% of the time I landed on my back or face. The other 49.9% fear choked all the motion out of me and I’d end in a pencil dive or cannon ball pretending it was on purpose. Fear is good for preservation. Peer pressure is good for pushing the limits. I’d like to end this story by telling you I perfected the gainer. I did not. I think during the summer I completed 3-ish (4 if you’re feeling generous). But, I learned a lot from failing. Good social pressure, for me, is getting out of the room where I feel like the smartest, most capable person and into the room where I'm curious or determined and want to learn and potentially fail. It's knowing my place, pushing others to be better, and being humble enough to let others push me. It was tempting to give up after the first time I hit my face and popped up to the surface feeling foolish. It was easier with someone sitting their laughing with me saying “dude, you were almost there. You just need to really commit.” I think if I would have believed it more I could have had more success. But I lacked the faith to be more vulnerable and less afraid. Here’s a fun comment on trust from Simon Sinek’s “Start with Why”. “Trust begins to emerge when we have a sense another person or organization is driven by things other than their own self-gain.” That's a hard thing to believe. Especially for a skeptic or a cynic. But, have you been in that type of community before? Have you felt that culture? The one where people are valued contributors with a shared desire. Have you been a co-owner; with a deeper motivation than personal gain? A motivation that inspires acts of service and worship and encouragement and kindness and generosity. That environment where the people surrounding us—they drive us to be better, not by spiteful words, but just by being present. They hold us accountable when we are wanting to complain and slack off. They encourage us when we begin to get tired. And when we are truly weak, they shoulder the burden for a portion of the way. This is community. Good community. And what community needs is trust. Sinek promises that trust is attached to genuine value. Value we are seeking. The trust it takes to stop being a fisherman, mid-work day, to go follow a teacher. The trust it takes to look another human squarely in the eye, knowing full well you have given them your whole heart, and be open to the idea they may step wrong and they may hurt you, but you will be ok. The trust it takes to launch into something new because the core of your community has helped mold you into something awesome, and capable of going out to overcome failure and success. Have you been there? It’s almost not believable. But it's real. There are genuinely decent, loving, humans in this world, that help bring about more genuineness and love. Provided you’ve got that foundational faith and the grace it takes to trust an imperfect human. And the generosity to pass love along. When words of praise ring sweetly in the ear it is easy to hear them and sit comfortably, greedily, counting compliments and achievements with wicked enthusiasm, stepping eagerly on others to claim every virtuous phrase. But love is the currency passed hand to hand without delay. And as it circulates it grows. We were meant to be generous This is my encouragement, to you and to me, dear reader. This holiday week let go of the fear and exchange it for the vulnerability it takes to fail, the humility it takes to get back up, and the trust it takes to succeed. It’s not easy. But it will be fun. Enjoy the people in your life. Give love generously. Inspire greatness with trust. Happy Independence Day. I like to be barefoot as often as is socially appropriate and good for my health. Those constraints are pretty subjective, but luckily I’ve got some trusted informants who help me toe the line. Side note: being barefoot is supposed to be good for kid’s development, good for improving memory, and it’s requested by God on occasion in the Bible. Generally if it’s good with experts in physical, mental, and spiritual communities it’s good with me. But some people find feet offensive, which is understandable. I intended to post a review of Emerson’s essay “self-reliance” with questions about the relevance of dogmatism and institutionalism in modern life. My examination of the waves of thought his work initiated culminated in a single phrase. “Rightly believing in the importance of self cannot come at the expense of devaluing the other.” Put colloquially, “what’s good for the goose is good for the gander.” In a tame critique of my review I would say, it lacked mass appeal and continuity. It wasn’t scholarly enough to strike a chord in the intellectual mind and it was too theoretical to resonate with the regular, every day reader. So, I am opting for a story loosely connected to the overall barefoot theme. “Liberty” closed with a promise to write about the negative implications of societal expectation in my life. Not a hard one to spot. My life’s riddled with mistakes from accepting pressure to behave in a way incongruent with my beliefs. Let’s start with an easy one. I value (or profess to value) honest prayer. God’s supposed to already know, right? Why be anything but authentic? I grew up at church. I’m not a PK but we lived in the parsonage. I learned at a very early age all the good words to say for an awesome prayer. And public prayer became food for my pride. I can make this prayer so good and people will think, wow this dude really knows how to talk to God. Then I heard myself talking and wondered what I was saying. It didn’t make much sense. The first Bible words flashing in my mind were whipped out there with some “Jesus’s” and “Lords” where my “um’s” should be. Expectation and praise funneled me into a heady worthless prayer. I was wasting a prime chance to address God by addressing everyone else instead. When I realized I was doing it wrong I switched to praying public prayers like it was just me and God and no one else was there. Which was a little awkward. Like when everyone is talking at a restaurant and I’m having a sidebar and then they go silent right when I say something about the time I missed the bathroom train at the apple orchard. So, I am still sorting out these prayer situations. Old habits die hard, and I’m not a public speaker. I think the best way to go is to be on the same side as the rest of the group talking to God with/for my squad. Have you heard someone deliver a prayer that swallows up all the energy in the room and brings it to God? It gives me chills. Social pressure can be not so good when it ramps up “people will see how good I am” feelings. Especially in a religious environment. And it’s still maybe not very good when it’s hyper-individualism. It’s really, really good when it inspires an “us” and we all step up to the plate with a spokesperson helping us be awesome together. Businesses are keyed in to this idea of social pressure. There are people they call “thought leaders” or “brand ambassadors” and there are “innovators” and “early adopters”. People with influence, people willing to try new things and tell all the regular people about their benefits. Then it makes all us regular people think “I need it now.” Some businesses use advertising and just wear us down. Some businesses try to be chameleons and say the right things and do the right things without really believing what they say or do. Good businesses recognize us as people and really want to make our lives better. There are lots of ways to persuade people things are good. But the best way is to be good. And to be good there needs to be core value and lots of compassion and lots of action. This is why minimalism is important. It helps us say no to lots of things we may do or buy or say just because we want to please other people. For me that looks like a public prayer being an honest delivery about what's really happening. Not a string of words other people will like or a string of words I want to say to God when no one is around. It’s like a pitch for my team not a pitch for myself. I’m praying for us to God. I can do that. This doesn’t mean other people’s opinions don’t influence me. I love affirmation. I crave it like I crave the smell of coffee and those little puffs of steam coming off the cup in the morning. Affirmation isn’t bad. Neither is bringing other people joy, making people feel comfortable, or trying to be socially appropriate. But, forgetting my core values and the principles I stand on, or the people I love, that’s a good sign I’m living outside in not inside out. Being excited about and open to new ideas, that’s great. Letting every little thing pull at my attention, not so great. Recognizing the difference between “fitting in” and being minimal, honest and vulnerable, that’s sort of the target I am aiming for. It’s a big reason why I write. So, dear reader, my encouragement to you is to write down a couple of values and measure them against your actions. What’s driving you to do the things you do? Start there. And pray lots for your intentions to be pure and full of humility and compassion. And, if you get a chance, pray for mine to be that way too. Next week will be all about positive social pressure. If you want stuff like this delivered to your inbox each week click here. And if you think other people would benefit from reading feel free to share. |
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I'm a Hoosier. I like the outdoors. Taxes are my job. I write for a living. This Blog
Writing my way to an adult life of minimalism, sustainability, and joy rooted in Truth. I'm learning, unlearning, and relearning.
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