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 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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