Friday, April 4, 2014

A small piece in honor of a friend

It has been a long while since I have posted to this blog.
What can I say, life overtook writing.

In honor of National Poetry Writing Month here is a piece that I wrote in honor of a good friend
and colleague in tutoring. He passed several years ago, and I think it might actually have been during the month of April.

For Charlie

When one sees a tree
it is easy to forget
the seed that it came from
and the seeds that it has spread.
The former can be found if one
looks within the heart of the tree.
But for all the seeds that the tree planted,
one is left to only guess.
From that one tree
many a life may grow,
each reflecting the tree that gave it life.
Some may even become trees of great stature,
to spread more seeds of their own.

Saturday, March 24, 2012

A Few Words On Compassion and Sensitivity-Said To the Mirror

It has been a few weeks since I have written anything. The past few weeks have been very eventful for me. Two weeks ago, a colleague and I attended and presented at The Kentucky Center for Mathematics annual conference. As I get my thoughts a little more organized  I hope to have a couple posts in relation to that event. This is also our yearly review time at the college, and that consumed some measure of my time, as it always seems to do. During this time, several things have been running through my mind, and several seemingly unrelated events tied together for me.

Before I introduce the “big idea,” allow me to set a little personal context how what I am about to say is most relevant to me. I have known for a long time that I am a very sensitive person. I have read in the past months about “highly sensitive people”  and many of the traits ring with me very strongly. Regardless of my otherwise calm exterior, I am easily overwhelmed by many things, one of those being strong emotions. Part of my sensitivity brings me to take on other people’s emotions like a sponge. It is like I just absorb them and then start feeling them myself. I realize that some of this is just natural empathy, but for me it is like the feelings come through a magnifier. Having grown up this way, I developed habits, some productive, some not so much. Strong negative emotions (sadness, anger, pain, etc.) would just wash over me and make me feel really uncomfortable. Over time I developed the habit of trying to fix whatever was making me uncomfortable-doing whatever I could to make it stop. Sounds great: empathy and compassion are highly desirable traits, especially when paired with someone that can easily pick up subtle and nuanced signs of feelings, even those that others try to hide.

So about now you may be asking “Okay what’s wrong with that Bill? And why didn’t you go into counseling?”

A couple of things: first once I take those emotions on, I carry them-seems like forever. So no counselor job for me, tried that at a local residential psychiatric place-I couldn’t leave it at work. Now the other side-as many who are also sensitive, compassionate, empathetic people can attest- it is easy to forget: We are not responsible for how others feel. That’s right I said it. I am not responsible for other people’s emotional state. It is my spiritual belief that we are responsible to be compassionate. We are responsible to do our best at what we do. We are responsible to be as “present” as we can be to those we are concerned with, especially those that are closest to us. In the end though-each person is responsible for his or her own happiness  or lack thereof.

Let’s think about this for a minute.
How much control do we have over what happened to them in their distant past?
No?
What about yesterday?
What about the half hour before they ran into you? Did you have any control over that?
I didn’t think so.

So why (and I am looking in a figurative mirror here) When we treat people fairly, with respect, with compassion, sometimes still feel like we have something to do with them being angry, scared, bitter, etc.
-Now mind you if we really did something “bad” then sure we had influence. If that’s the case, apologize, try to correct it, and get over it.
But that’s not what I am talking about here. I am talking about the feeling that everyone needs to like us, and we just aren’t satisfied unless everyone walks away with a big smile on their face, all their problems solved, damage and scars undone, and they walk away with some loaves and fishes.

Wait what?

Yeah I went there.

What we are really demanding of ourselves is to be omniscient, omnipotent, and well frankly free from error.

Not going to happen.

Sure we can try and be the best, but in the end, we are not going to be able to do it all. If we don’t put limits on this part of ourselves, it will drive us to a point of either becoming bitter, cynical, and broken, or worse it is going to make us sick.

So, stop it!

But don’t stop caring- that is the core part of what makes us special. Continue being the motivators, the inspirers, the protectors, the counselors, the idealists. But realize you can't fix it all.

Sunday, February 26, 2012

Looking Back at a Timeless Moment

The ballroom was filled with several hundred people and lots of round tables. At the one end there was a long table with seats arranged facing the crowded toom. This table was reserved for the wedding party. At the other end of the room were serving tables filled with finger foods for the reception. Small groups hovered or sat around some of the tables, others were dancing the jitterbug or their own dance to a tune by the Brian Setzer Orchestra chosen by the DJ. The dull roar of a crowd conversing with the running soundtrack of loud gaiety wouldn’t have been my first choice for leisure time. This wasn’t so much about the leisure though. It was a time to celebrate. People all around wearing every perfume and cologne possible, and the smell of shampoos and hair care products circulated like waves over the top of the smells of the foods that were served. It was June of 1999, and this was the wedding reception for my brother and new sister-in-law. I was a part of the wedding party and was glad to be a part of the event, but being an introvert, I knew that the high amount of stimulation would overtake me before long.

Susan, My friend that I had known since high school, had come up from Tennessee with her mother for the event. I had not been able to visit with Susan for a couple of years now, and it was good to catch up with her. Try as I might to focus on conversing with Susan, my attention was caught elsewhere though. I could see across the room a blond woman and she kept drawing my attention. I knew her from the gym that I had begun exercising at the previous month. (The exercise program was mostly therapeutic to draw me out of a period of deep depression that I had just been through.)  I was partially focused on the conversation with Susan, but I was caught in the grips of forces beyond my control. As I was working up the courage to go ask the woman for a dance, my attention was caught elsewhere in the room.

As the music changed to a slow song, “I Could Fall in Love,” by Selena, I heard a soft voice behind me say, “Excuse me, but could I have this dance?”

As I turned around my jaw dropped and I could feel the blood rushing to my ears. It was her-she had come across the room and asked me for a dance. Time froze at that moment for me, and I think the speaking parts of my brain nearly shut down. I breathed in as I came closer to dance with her, and caught fragrance of pears and flowers. I lost all sense of the world that was all around me, and all I could see was this beautiful blond haired, brown eyed woman, smiling and talking to me. I can’t remember much of the details of our conversation, but I knew that I wanted to talk to her again.

About a week later, I asked her out for a date. From the next week on, we went on a couple of dates a week. It turned into an amazing summer, and I can honestly say it was the happiest time of my life up to that point. February 1st we were married in a courthouse ceremony that we look back to with humor now, but at the time we found it to be way less than desired. It was a convenience because of the difficulties arranging an out -of-state wedding that we were planning. We count the second wedding as our true anniversary, February 26th. We had this ceremony in Gatlinburg, Tennessee.


Kathy and I have been through much since that time 12 years ago. I look back and am glad that I found someone that can keep me laughing, and most importantly someone with a heart so full of grace and mercy. Though I have found since that she normally is more quiet turned, but at that time it didn't show. I don’t know if I would have worked up the courage to ask her to dance before she left. I am glad it didn’t depend all on me. I am glad I was caught up in forces beyond my control.

Monday, February 20, 2012

Wisdom to Know the Difference

Three years ago yesterday Kahlan, my daughter was born. This came in the middle of what seems like the longest months of my life. In late June or early July of 2008, my wife had a car accident. We took her in to the emergency room after. The doctor wanted to do x-rays, and he asked us if there was a chance that she was pregnant. She and I looked at each other and couldn’t give a definite answer, so he had her do a pregnancy test. A short time later he came back to tell us the news: Kathy was in fact pregnant. Kathy was so excited that she nearly forgot why we were there, but I have to admit, the reality didn’t really hit me until later on. I think the doctor was slightly disappointed that I didn’t display much enthusiasm. To be honest, I was more concerned about the result of the car accident than the results of that pregnancy test at that time. She didn’t have any visible signs of injury. She did end up being sore for days later, and did have some back problems related to the accident.

Some of her pains did not go away. Over the next few weeks she began having more problems. Soon, she was unable to work, and she started having more serious back pain. As her condition went downhill, I became more concerned that something besides the pain from the accident was wrong with her. We went to see her OB/GYN and he was convinced that an old problem from her first pregnancy had come back. During her first pregnancy, she had suffered through kidney stones. The doctor sent her for several examinations, and though there was no sign, other than her past history, he was convinced that she was having the same problem again.

Her pain level grew worse, and he ended up putting her on bed rest, which forced her to take a leave of absence from work. She got to the point where she looked ashen all the time, and was only able to lay on the couch all day. During this time, I was commuting an hour to work every day. Every day that I left her, the time away bothered me more. As the days drug on, her mood and attitude degraded. Under a mysterious pain in abdomen and back, with no clear end in sight, it passed from illness into something like torture. We went back to the doctor several times, and he was still convinced that it was kidney stones. My wife, having been through the experience before, insisted that it felt different. He could give us nothing different. The rest of the pregnancy continued, and her body even tried to end the pregnancy. Every day, I feared leaving her. I was afraid that I would come back to find her dead.

February came, and Kahlan was born. The doctor then told us things should get better for Kathy as her hormone levels changed. They did not. Things stayed the same, aside from the new addition in our house, of course. After several more months, we went to our family doctor, after a particularly bad episode. He sent her to a different specialist, and we found that she in fact had gall stones.  A few weeks later she went in for surgery, and had her gall bladder removed. After the surgery, she recovered over the next few weeks.

I was frustrated beyond belief with her OB/GYN.  Despite very little evidence, and even some strong contradictory evidence, he was stuck in a particular frame of mind. He neglected the contradictory evidence, and it in a sense called it a fluke. In the end he was stuck in what is called “paradigm paralysis.” All he saw as important was evidence that supported his original point of view, and he seemed unable to even conceive of alternative points of view. He is a very well educated man, and in fact I am to understand that he taught others within his field as well.

I have been around some very well educated people. I have a great deal of respect for their knowledge and experience. It is frustrating though when this experience develops into a type of orthodoxy. When we have extended beyond the limits of their knowledge, when the environment has radically changed: when the world we formally knew is far away, we should rethink what we do. But because of “paradigm paralysis” we use our old way of thinking and try, often disastrously, to live by the same rules. When things don’t work, we look for blame, despairingly try to make things the way they were, or just plain ignore reality. This isn’t just a problem for the educated; it is part of the way we are made. I pick on this group, myself included, because our education should help us to know better. Perhaps this is where the fourth line of the serenity prayer has more meaning:

God grant me the serenity
to accept the things I cannot change;
courage to change the things I can;
and wisdom to know the difference.

Living one day at a time;
Enjoying one moment at a time;
Accepting hardships as the pathway to peace;
Taking, as He did, this sinful world
as it is, not as I would have it;
Trusting that He will make all things right
if I surrender to His Will;
That I may be reasonably happy in this life
and supremely happy with Him
Forever in the next.
Amen.

--Reinhold Niebuhr


February 19th then is a day of celebration. We celebrate the birth of our daughter. For my own celebration, I remember that I have them both, and that they were not taken from me.

Sunday, February 12, 2012

The Big Game Isn't An Elephant?

Sunday and Monday of last week marked a really special yearly festival for many Americans. That’s right, it was Super Bowl time. I will let you in on a little secret, as long as you don’t tell the House Un-American Activities Committee:I am not really a football fan. I can’t even fake it. I have tried, but I just never have acquired the taste. I was moderately interested in the commercials, but with the advent of the internet, I can catch up on those later. Of course, I will likely see most of them re-aired for the next few months anyway.

 I have been to a few football games. There wasn’t too much activity on Saturday afternoons while I lived on campus at Eastern Kentucky University. Sometimes I just needed a change of environment from the dorm room. Well that, and it is hard to study with fireworks and band playing happening at irregular intervals. I have to admit there is something to the atmosphere of a live game in person. I think I may have actually missed the point though: I was more entertained watching the crowds. In fact there were some regulars that I tried to catch a few times. I think they were professional hecklers. These three could give the writers of MST 3000 a run for their money for play by play heckling banter. They were at their prime apparently when the opposing team’s mascot would enter the field. I believe that one fight broke out between the Colonel (EKU’s mascot) and the Hilltopper (mascot of Western Kentucky University-bitter rivals of EKU) was actually escalated by the professional heckling crew.

Like I said, I missed the point: I don’t remember any of the details of the games. I have a feeling that the same would happen if I were to be invited to a Super Bowl party. Then again, it could go worse. Given my math background I could choose to break into the mathematics and physics of the game and make eyes glaze over. Given my philosophy background I could spin out a spontaneous thesis on the benefits and downfalls of vicarious athletic team identification.  Yeah, that is a real winner for parties.
Not one of my magical math moments

I have made an important discovery: The following Monday apparently is also part of this ritual. I had several students ask me if I had watched the game. They all felt inclined to give their take on how close it brought us to the end of the world, or how it was one of the greatest moments and the universe shook with awe at the final moments of the game. I took it all in, with stride and grace I hope. In the end, I wonder how many feel the same in my place when I talk about the dramatic grand finale of an well written series, or when I experience an epic win moment if solving a particular difficult problem.

I can talk objectively about most of the sports, but honestly I still can’t feel nor relate the subjective experience of being “a fan.” Please don’t tell anyone.  I think that might actually be grounds for treason in some parts.

Monday, February 6, 2012

When the Fireworks Are Over.

For many things experiences there can come two patterns. New experiences can bring to us an exhilaration coming from their novelty. This particular pattern brings to mind the term “honeymoon period”. The euphoria and sense of being enraptured in a new experience can carry a lot of energy. This energy can be channeled to accomplish a great deal. Most of the time this exhilaration fades and then the real work begins. This is the time to buckle down, plod through, and grind out the work, even when we don’t feel like it(insert favorite cliche about real work). The other pattern works like this: you put in a lot of hard work, and then at the end you feel exhilarated at something great that you look back on and have accomplished. But the time has to be spent.

When working with students I have been fortunate to witness both patterns many times. I love the excitement of being around students that have just begun and are ready to charge through and “take that education by storm”. I also like being there when they have completed a degree and they look back with awe at what they have worked through. Sadly there are some that don’t experience the second. Sometimes it is circumstances come and get in the way. But for some, the real work just isn’t worth it. They give up.

There were times I might have felt the same thing, but I found something down inside that told me to keep going. Admittedly, I had encouragement from many around me. In the end I still had to find the strength within myself. Sometimes that strength was hard to find.

I believe that most things that really are worth doing, feeling, and experiencing have to be worked for. Learning, finding our gift, chasing our passions, raising kids, and having meaningful relationships, are all about having some periods of euphoric bliss interspersed with periods of real work. Sadly, some people miss out on some really great blissful periods because they don't do the work.

Right now, the fireworks about writing have passed. At this point euphoria isn’t there to give me the energy, drive, and inspiration to write. This is one of those periods of “plodding through.” Inspiration is fickle, hard work is not. I just need to have faith that the hard work with be worth it in the end. I am pretty sure it will be.

Wednesday, February 1, 2012

A Rare Site Indeed

About 40 miles south of where I live there is a spectacular sight. It is quite a unique experience called Cumberland Falls.
I try to go to see it at least several times a year. 
Part of the distinction of this place comes from a moonbow that is formed from the spray off the falls when the conditions are just right. It doesn’t happen all the time. Several dynamics need to come together for the moonbow to be visible. The geographic features that lend to the waterfall itself are just part of the story. The angle of the falls, the production of spray, the angle the moon shining  through the spray on the few days before and after the full moon are still only part of the story. There are so many random factors that determine when particular visit will allow you to see this spectacular view. The weather needs to be just right.

Even all these factors that make for the appearance of a moonbow pale in comparison to the immeasurable factors that come together to make someone the person that they are. All the seemingly small choices, well thought out choices, plans we have made, goals we have set, failures and achievements that we have, are still a small part of the puzzle. What then is the bigger picture? The people that we have met, those that have come into our life and influenced the course we have taken, some still around, even more that have come and gone, contribute to the picture. So many countless chance encounters come and go. It is overwhelming at times to think about. For some people there may be more encounters and for some far less. I am struck by the great effect so much chance can bring together.

In the end I still experience life with awe regardless of what comes together to cause it. So many things that could have been just a little different, but if the conditions weren’t just right, I might not see what I see today.

We often like to feel that we have a sense of control on the direction life takes us, but how can one mitigate innumerable encounters? In the end we have some choice about what we allow and don’t allow to become a part of us. We can choose how to react to the circumstances and encounters that happen. I believe that is what shapes our being.