A day to honor the question, "Whose am I?"

"The ancient human question 'Who am I?' leads inevitably to the equally important question 'Whose am I?' — for there is no self outside of relationship."

-- Parker Palmer

Ah, the 10-year journal strikes again - that gift that keeps on giving. Thanks to it, I am present to the fact that 3 years ago today Anne and I learned that Jake was Jake. In other words, through the modern miracle of ultrasound technology, we were told "It's a boy!" And at that moment it became apparent that my "identity" had expanded dramatically. In addition to the many important answers I had accumulated for the questions "Who am I?" and "Whose am I?", I was now "JAKIE'S DADA." And right when I was basking in the joy of this re-discovery, there was my good buddy, Parker Palmer - one of my favorite authors/teachers/thinkers - to drive home its full meaning in my life.

P.S. And Happy Birthday, M.N. and C.P

The essence of "the marathon"

On the heels of yesterday morning's message about the timeliness and ease with which the right quote comes to me at just the right time to capture the spirit of the previous day's activities, another amazing example of such synchronicity showed up last night. After a really good morning run as part of my early marathon training (I have logged 66 of my 85 mile commitment for May), I went over to facilitate a meeting on organizational trust in a company I work with here in town. They have been going through their own "marathon" of sorts in building a company and culture they all can be proud of, after years of intense effort, struggle, and turmoil. They are fighting the good fight. When I got home last night and checked my email, I had a great message from my dear friend, C.P., who is also training for a marathon in Washington, DC. His brother sent him a book on running with this perfect description of the essence of a marathon, and I was amazed at how it applied to both my physical training regimen AND the spiritual training regimen I was supporting inside this company. I hope you can see the moving analogy in the words and the emotions they elicit, and for those of you who were in that meeting yesterday, I honor how far you've come in punching through "the wall" of organizational possibility and of your own will to be free and alive - to be who you really are.

"The marathon is less a physical event than a spiritual encounter. In infinite wisdom, God built into us a 32‑km racing limit, a limit imposed by inadequate sources of the marathoner's prime racing fuel ‑ carbohydrates. But we, in our human wisdom, decreed that the standard marathon be raced over 42 km. So it is in that physical no‑man's‑land, which begins after the 32‑km mark, that the irresistible appeal of the marathon lies. It is at that stage, as the limits to human running endurance are approached, that the marathon ceases to be a physical event. It is there that you, the runner, discover the basis for the ancient proverb: 'When you have gone so far that you cannot manage one more step, then you have gone just half the distance that you are capable of.' It is there that you learn something about yourself and your view of life. Marathon runners have termed it the wall."

And for those of you who struggle to muster the energy to take on something truly great, something of monumental proportion (like running a marathon or transforming an organization), only to find the people in your world challenging you, doubting you, or questioning your sanity:

"People only fail (or don't try) in direct proportion to their willingness to accept socially acceptable excuses for failure (or not trying)."

-- W. Steven Brown

From my favorite business philosopher

Some people have been asking me recently how long it takes me to keep up with my writing and sending out of these messages. They suspected it took an hour or two. I explained that it is a natural process that tends to flow somewhat effortlessly out of my daily coaching and life experiences. For example, yesterday I met or spoke with four businessmen (yes, you, D.M., W.P., D.P., and E.S.) who are striving to bring their own personal form of "art" to their businesses, two women and a couple (yes, you, P.A., R.C., and J.& M.R.) who are seeking radical transformation of their lives in the midst of great chaos and struggle, and two organizational change agents (yes, you, M.C. and M.H.) who are seeking to bring a deeper appreciation of human and spiritual values to their organizations. And then I got home and checked email, and there was this really cool quote in the FAST COMPANY electronic newsletter from my favorite business philosopher, summarizing my day perfectly:

"More than ever, we should celebrate the artists in business, the reformers in life, and the missionaries in organizations."

-- Peter Koestenbaum

It doesn't always flow quite this effortlessly, but you get the idea. Capturing this quote and adding a few lines about it took 15 minutes. And it beautifully "celebrated" a day well spent with people I really care about.

Reverence for life - a walk down memory lane

It seems I've been browsing through old archived messages from years gone by quite a bit lately. What a wonderful gift to be able to do so. I can now honestly say that I have collected, written, and archived the most comprehensive source of quotes that I've ever seen anywhere. And I never get tired of reading them and sharing them. And it only took 4 years (and running) to accumulate. This experience is becoming strikingly similar to my 10-year journal experience - they are both truly gifts that just keep giving. The two quotes below are from two years ago, oldies but goodies, and they perfectly fit my attitude toward life this morning, reinforced by my experiences of yesterday with so many great people, so I thought I'd share them, in honor of K.B., P.F., D.M., S.M., E.P., and K.T.. Thank you all for being in my life.

"Life is mostly froth and bubble,
Two things stand like stone,
Kindness in another's trouble,
Courage in your own."

-- Adam Lindsay Gordon

"Affirmation of life is the spiritual act by which man ceases to live unreflectively and begins to devote himself to living his life with reverence in order to raise it to its truest value. To affirm life is to deepen, to make more inward, and to exalt the will to live and to serve."

-- Albert Schweitzer

For those of you who are wondering, after journaling, praying, writing, and sharing this note I will head out to do 4 more miles that will put me at 62 for the month, against my May commitment of 85. Then I will shower with Jake and hop him into his red convertible (just like Dad's), and we'll head off for bagelatte with our morning friends at Diedrich's. This is my favorite way to "affirm life" every morning, to live it "with reverence in order to raise it to its truest value."

The truth about truth

"To know the real truth about anything is to know the truth about everything. In learning the principles of ministry, we learn the secrets of true effectiveness and success, regardless of what form our ministry takes."

I had a wonderful conversation yesterday morning with a really good man (and committed husband and father), and we talked about the distinct pathways to truth we've each been taking in our lives and in our work, and we explored the common discoveries we've made along the way about the nature of truth - its fundamental underlying dynamic, and how elusive and counterintuitive it can be at times. Now, what were those parallel lessons again from last week: it's not money that produces the experience of abundance, but the other way around - just as it works with language and communication, with sex and intimacy, with rank and power, and with religion and God. Understanding truth in any one of these venues opens the door to understanding truth in all of them. So, after my meeting with this friend over coffee, I came home and, as I was brushing my teeth, there was the above message for May 19th in the inspirational calendar sitting on our vanity. It's nice to feel so engaged in the journey with you, my friend, as we listen for our directions and venture out onto our own unique paths.

On remaining coachable

As I was sitting, praying, reading, writing, enjoying my quiet time this morning, I started day-dreaming back to some old messages from years gone by, and my cursor landed on this little gem, written on this same date, May 19th, in the year 2000. I have been extremely busy lately, much of which has been really wonderful, but I want to stay focused on the most important things in my life, and here are some words of my own from the past to help me. Listen carefully, Jim.

"We must learn to say 'no' much of the time to many of the demands on us, while still being willing and able to say 'yes' to the things that fit within our plan for our lives. In amongst all the noise and distractions, there are treasures in the form of 'golden opportunities' that
require careful identification and commitment."

Does this look familiar, K.B.? You and your message from God yesterday are the reasons I landed here in this place this morning, to be sure, ... and I thank you.

Thank God for our children.

"Parents learn a lot from their children about coping with life."

--Muriel Spark

I have learned all of my biggest life lessons from my children. My oldest son, Jim (23) - a young man who is brilliant and could easily do whatever he chose to in life - has turned his back on ambition, greed, and materialism, and he has taught me through his humble, simple life how to love the simple things, especially the man I am (vs. the money and things I provide). My second son, Mark (20), taught me when he was 11 years old that "being happy and being loving" were the things he most wanted to learn from me as a man (and I had failed him up to that point), and those words are now my mantra. And now Jake, my littlest guru, teaches me profound lessons with every phrase out of his mouth. Yesterday, as I was struggling with the most ridiculous little irritations of the day, along with the soreness and tiredness that my running and recent work schedule has produced, Jake grabbed my face and looked warmly into my eyes with his simple, all-knowing smile and said, "Dada, this is a nice day." Ah, the gift of appreciation, as seen through the eyes of my child. When Jake so gently reminds me of how far I am from his point of view - the point of view I'm always seeking - I don't know whether to laugh or cry. I usually end up doing both.