field guide

November 13, 2011 twelve days

From Empty to Bounty: 12 Days

DAY ONE

Today is Sunday — the one that’s a week and a half before Thanksgiving. If I’m going to commit to the Eyejunkie 4th Annual 12 Days of Thanksgiving posting series, today is the day to begin. I woke up thinking that this morning.

Fourth annual. I can hardly believe it’s correct to even write that. Yet, it is. It’s hard for me to believe that I’ve been writing this blog long enough to have a 4th annual anything. But, I guess I have. As I’ve glanced through the  12 Days themes of year one, year two and year three, it’s easy for me to see the changes in my own life — my own heart — as portrayed through this odd little record. It’s easy to see the constant aspects as well.

I’ve spent the last week trying to decide if I really wanted to bite off the daily morsel of a 12-day writing commitment this year. On Friday at the end of a long (and somewhat busy) week, I was feeling the pressure of many things. One of those things was the choice of writing about Thanksgiving for twelve days. The choice of thinking about thanksgiving for twelve days, in addition to everything else that seems to be enveloping my mind. To say it was daunting at that moment is an understatement. Honestly, I really couldn’t imagine how I would do it.

“My life is so empty right now.”

Ha! I actually had that thought. As I sit here taking a rest from the morning playing with Little Drummer Boy, Bug and Baby Girl, I know that statement doesn’t even approach the truth. I mean, not even close. Yet, I thought it. And although I knew the folly of it almost before I articulated it in my mind’s voice, still there was some element of the statement I had to consciously admit and explore.

My life is not empty. But, at least at that moment, my spirit was. My gumption was. My joy meter. My energy level.

It happens sometimes. There is something about life that squeezes us out — even if we don’t mean to get wrung. Sometimes it’s the reality of grabbing everything we can from an experience. Sometimes it’s the reality of scraping the bottom of the barrel to claim at least something from an experience. Sometimes it’s the reality of carving out time and energy and brain space from a multitude of activity to believe we are actually having an experience at all — a life. And, whatever combination of those realities had materialized in my thinking over the last few weeks, the result manifested itself as a sincere and credible feeling of emptiness.

The great chasm between empty and bounty doesn’t really have alot to do with how much is in the refrigerator or the closet or the project list. In my limited experience, it doesn’t have much to do with the bottom line or the season’s record or whatever other tangible poll standings my thoughts may try to calculate.

No, if the last three years of 12-day thanksgiving experiments holds true, the transition from empty to bounty has nothing to do with those things. And everything to do with perspective. An internal perspective, a way of seeing and interpreting that leaves us bursting rather than wanting.

About two seconds after the fateful thought of “my life is so empty” crossed my consciousness, I knew. I knew I was in serious need of a perspective adjustment. There is a certain misery that I imagine results from spending a life running on empty. I believe the joy of gratitude is just the jump start needed to shift the balance. My own experience can testify that the giving of thanks is a heart and mind readjustment. It can provide a recognition that enables me to draw my living from overflow rather than from scarcity. Life DOES overflow. MY life overflows. My life is full of many precious things and people and experiences. I don’t want to claim “living” from any other perspective.

So, the 12-day experiment in the power of gratitude begins again. A journey from empty to bounty. Join me.

November 9, 2011 letters + numbers

numbers . Three

I have a book in my office called Seeing: Doubletakes. It was published by Strathmore Papers and contains the photography work of Francois Robert. The theme is photographs of common objects that, when viewed through a slighty skewed perspective, actually look like faces. I thought this particular photo had the same whimsical quality. It’s actually the bottom of an old iron dinner bell that was transplanted from my grandparents farm to my parents home and secured by these three bolts. But, I can’t help but see what looks like a look of astonishment on this guy’s face. And, of course, my quest for letters and numbers was temporarily satisfied by the number 3 sitting curiously in the center.

November 7, 2011 on social justice

The Pull of Legend

On Saturday I read this article about Penn State Athletics. It gave me that sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. If you haven’t seen much about the story, I’ll just let you read it for yourself. And I predict you will get that sick feeling too.

I read the article while I was watching the Mississippi State homecoming football game on television with my boys. You see, I have boys. Two of them. And they’re just learning about football and what a college is and which team is the Bulldogs. The article made me spontaneously hug and kiss them, which they have sort of come to expect from their Mommy. So, it was no big deal for them. For me, it kept me awake that night.

Most of my kids’ enjoyment of football games consists of spotting “Bully,” the Mississippi State mascot somewhere in the televised coverage. Admittedly, the homecoming game didn’t have the same audience appeal as the Thomas the Tank Engine story they had concocted and were playing out on the living room floor. Still, we were watching football. And somewhere between the television ad spots proclaiming how college football in the South is part of the year-long cultural fabric and Emmitt Smith selling his favorite tailgating products, I saw the Penn State story.

I couldn’t help but think about what I can only assume is the incredible pull of legend. As college football legends go, I suppose Joe Paterno’s Penn State program is as legendary as they come. It’s a legend you want to follow — to appreciate, to see win. It’s a legend you’d like to see untarnished.

Was that the motivation behind the complete lack of human-ness displayed in this story by so many grown men? Were they thinking of their own individual jobs? The bad publicity? The loss of sponsorship and conference dollars from television broadcasts? From my couch, I imagine that it was all of the above.

For the first eyewitness to this horrific situation, I can imagine some combination of shock and fear prevailed. I would hope that for athletic staff and university administration, the first thoughts WEREN’T the horrific experience of a football program. But, as the story played out through the sequence of events described, it appears that is the exact horrific experience that was at the forefront of their minds.

Something is amiss in legend-making. In legend-keeping. Shock and fear are certainly relevant emotions. But, what else happened while a witness mulled over his next actions? What else happened while the powers-that-be slowly formulated a crisis-management strategy. On that night, a young boy was left at the mercy of what appearances and indictment language tell us is a sexual predator. A young boy was left with no defense against unspeakable acts. And statistics tell us that for victims they ARE unspeakable. The shame and fear and long-term emotional effects of such experiences are difficult to express and therefore, very often go unexpressed. And let’s not forget that silence is one of the most powerful weapons a predator uses to protect himself and allow his pattern of abuse to continue. Yes, the acts were unspeakable.

Sadly, for the grown men in this situation, the events were apparently unspeakable as well — at least outside of the closed doors of a college football legend. What kept me up on Saturday night: The questions. What else happened? What further humiliation was the boy (a boy like mine) subjected to by such a key figure in this football legend? What was the look in his eyes? How did he get home? Did he have a home? Was he subjected to other meetings with this predator? Did he have someone who could help his young mind and soul cope with this life-changing experience? Wouldn’t he be about college-age by now?

On Sunday I read an article about the indictment of Jerry Sandusky. Apparently the language from the Pennsylvania Attorney General’s office specified that Coach Joe Paterno acted appropriately and was absolved of any wrong-doing. It indicated he would likely testify for the prosecution in the case. I was happy to read that caveat to the story. I, like many others, enjoy the mystique of Saturday afternoons in Autumn. I admire winners. I want to see a storied figure maintain his legacy. The legend of Penn State football can remain somewhat intact.

Good. But, what of the boy?

November 3, 2011 beautiful ordinary, free art + printables

November Bounty

 

Happy November! It seems almost impossible that 2011 is almost over, but here we are. Last weekend my kids and I visited our family farm and enjoyed some time exploring outdoors. As we were gathering leaves and rocks and other treasures, I was observing the light and the colors. Fall is a random time in the South. It’s random in that you never know exactly when it’s going to hit and what response Nature might make. The typical Fall colors and signature blue sky spread themselves along the landscape from late September well into January sometimes. For this trip, I was noticing the clarity of the colors. The blue sky was astonishingly blue at times. The greens were still quite vibrant in places. The yellows and reds and oranges were popping out in their appropriate tree species with a punch. I sometimes assume November will offer only the most sluggish of colors that are soon muddied out by an overwelming gray/brown neutral. Not so, as we begin the month this year! Even my own yard is ablaze with deep hues. Clear hues.

Clarity. It can be hard to come by sometimes — in colors and in living. As November has brought it’s clear hues this year, I’m also wondering what I’m willing to let it bring for my clarity of spirit. This month, we celebrate Thanksgiving. We focus on the blessings we find in the privilege of living. The bounty.

Bounty is clarifying. Taking the time to recognize the bounty around me pushes aside muddy thinking and muddy priorities. It focuses my attention on what matters. It keeps the main things (and people) in clearer focus. Bounty refuses to allow itself to be governed by regrets or have-nots. It requires that I see a full plate. It flies in the face of all the distractions that come with that battle in my mind. Am I really making progress? Am I really speaking? Am I really moving? Am I really living? Moving my attention to the bounty of each day and each experience helps me live that day and that experience will a full focus and a full heart. That’s my goal this November, and that’s the inspiration for this month’s wallpaper art. Enjoy for your desktop, iphone or ipad!