Happy Birthday to Me!

So many of us had certain parts of our childhood that were painful and unpleasant. In order to escape, we often lived in our imaginations and dreamed of days in the future when life would be different, when it would finally be the way that we always wanted it to be. This was the only way we thought we could have any control of our lives...when we grew up...when we could be in charge. As long as we continue to think that way - that we will be happy in the future when we're in control - we will never be happy in the moment, and that is the same as saying that we will never be happy. If we think that our lives will be better when we get that better job or retire, stay or go, gain or lose weight, accumulate a certain amount of money or things, find him or her, or when our children grow and leave or come back, we are putting off the happiness that there is in today. Our frustration, irritation, and worry about these things serve no one, and only push God away, and

"God gives nothing to those who keep their arms crossed."

-- West African Proverb

So, on this date when I was born 49 years ago, I am opening my arms wide to receive all the love I so richly deserve:

Happy Birthday to Me.
Happy Birthday to Me.
Happy Birthday, Dear Me.
Happy Birthday to Me.

And many more.

Answer life with your choices.

"You may perform astonishing feats and comprehend a vast amount of knowledge, and yet have no understanding of yourself. But suffering directs you to look within. If it succeeds, then there, within you, is the beginning of your learning."

-- Soren Kierkegaard - Danish philosopher of Existentialism

"As each situation in life represents a challenge to man and presents a problem for him to solve, the question of the meaning of life may actually be reversed. Ultimately, man should not ask what the meaning of his life is, but rather he must recognize that it is he who is being asked. Each man is questioned by life; to life he can only respond by being responsible."

-- Viktor Frankl - Psychiatrist, concentration camp prisoner

"Genuinely good people are those who, from the deepest level of their understanding and motivation, are committed to promoting the best good of everyone they deal with - including, of course, God and themselves. In this they have, with God's assistance, gone far beyond 'rightness' understood as merely 'not doing anything wrong' - beyond the goodness of scribes and Pharisees - and are acting from their inward union of mind and heart with 'the heavens'."

-- Dallas Willard, in The Divine Conspiracy

I love the natural progression of thought in these quotes, describing the human learning cycle that flows from unconscious action to suffering to introspection to responsibility to conscious, integrated action. And I am intrigued by the diversity of backgrounds of the writers, from 19th century Danish existentialist to 20th century Austrian Psychiatrist to modern day American Christian Philosopher. And isn't this theme consistent with our conversation on Wednesday, R.L.? And who was it who gave me this last-mentioned book a short while ago? And who was it who inspired this background imagery (which I really love, by the way)? And isn't it fascinating that both you and D.M. draw such dramatic inspiration from the same artist? I so love you, man. You really inspire me, and you are wrestling with a struggle that so many out here share. Thank you for being so open and honest and transparent, such that all of us might learn.

Once you stop fearing failure, you're free.

"To flee or to fight, to submit or to overcome - that remains the eternal and recurring choice. No matter how many situations we shy away from in fear, new ones surface daily. That's where we are put to the test - in the everyday challenges to do whatever is toughest. Every circumstance is different, but the summoning of our courage always remains the same:

Embrace what's scariest.

Understand that the potential reward far outweighs the risk.

Remember that our best self is always our most courageous self."

-- Dr. Fred Epstein, in if I get to five

Here he is again, that Dr. Fred guy. His book is killing me with its stories about courageous kids fighting terminal illness, but how simple and profound the recurring theme is that these kids live every day. In the spirit of these kids, here's to all of you brave adventurers out there on your "flying trapezes," as you get ready to let go of that "bar of complacency" (reference to "status quo" in yesterday's message), risking it all to go for it, whatever that "it" might be.

Dad Update: I talked to my Dad last night, he goes home later today, and we'll know more about his condition in the next few days. In the meantime, I've received over 50 beautiful messages and prayers from this community, in response to my request of a few days ago, and I can't thank you enough for your warmth, generosity, and caring. I'm going to figure out how I can get up to Philly and visit him during the short window of opportunity I have between now and the final days before our baby's due, which means I have about a month (or until Anne's birthday on August 12th) to figure it out - just so I can go see him and give him a hug.

Life in the transition (or twilight) zone

This is an old message I had sent out over 2 years ago, from a source I can't even remember now, and then I found myself working with a client/friend on Monday who was experiencing that "terror" that shows up when you've let go of one trapeze bar, and the other is not firmly in hand yet, where you feel adrift in that free space where you are both "dying" and "flying," with your stomach and your heart up in your throat. I am in that place as it relates to my Dad's health (he got through the biopsy OK yesterday and will be in the hospital until Thursday, at which time we should know a little more) and a new baby coming (my fourth child, during my 50th year!); it feels like a free fall of intense emotion. So, I looked up "trapeze" on the internet, and there was this old favorite - temporarily misplaced, but now firmly back in my hands. This was actually written by an anonymous college student in the late 70's but, as I read it again, I swear I wrote it, and I absolutely know that I'm living it. It gives me such an amazing sense of deja vu.


"Sometimes I feel that my life is a series of trapeze swings. I’m either hanging on to a trapeze bar swinging along or, for a few moments in my life, I’m hurling across space in between trapeze bars.

Most of the time, I spend my life hanging on for dear life to my trapeze-bar-of-the-moment. It carries me along at a certain steady rate, and I have the feeling that I’m in control of my life. I know most of the right questions and even some of the right answers. But once in a while, as I’m merrily (or not-so-merrily) swinging along, I look out ahead of me into the distance, and what do I see? I see another trapeze bar swinging toward me. It’s empty, and I know, in that place in me that knows, that this new trapeze bar has my name on it. It is my next step, my growth, my aliveness coming to get me. In my heart-of-hearts I know that for me to grow, I must release my grip on this present, well known bar to move to the next one.

Each time it happens to me, I hope (no, I pray) that I won’t have to grab the new one. But in my knowing place I know that I must totally release my grasp on my old bar, and for some moment in time I must hurtle across space before I can grab onto the new bar. Each time I am afraid that I will miss, that I will be crushed on unseen rocks in the bottomless chasm between the bars. But I do it anyway. Perhaps this is the essence of what the mystics call the faith experience. No guarantees, no net, no insurance policy, but you do it anyway because somehow, to keep hanging on to that old bar is no longer on the list of alternatives. And so for an eternity that can last a microsecond or a thousand lifetimes, I soar across the dark void of 'the past is gone the future is not yet here.' It’s called transition. I have come to believe that is the only place that real change occurs. I mean real change, not the pseudo-change that only lasts until the next time my old buttons get punched.

I have noticed, that in our culture, this transition zone is looked upon as a 'no-thing' a no-place between places. Sure, the old trapeze-bar was real, and that new one coming towards me, I hope that’s real too. But the void in between? That’s just a scary, confusing, disorienting 'nowhere' that must be gotten through as fast and as unconsciously as possible. What a waste! I have a sneaking suspicion that the transition zone is the only real thing, and the bars are illusions we dream up to avoid the void, where the real change, the real growth occurs for us. Whether or not my hunch is true, it remains that the transition zones in our lives are incredibly rich places. They should be honored, even savored. Yes, with all the pain and fear and feelings of being out-of-control that can (but not necessarily) accompany transitions, they are still the most alive, most growth-filled, passionate, expansive moments of our lives.

And so, transformation of fear may have nothing to do with making fear go away, but rather with giving ourselves permission to 'hang-out' in the transition between trapeze bars. Transforming our need to grab that new bar, any bar, is allowing ourselves to dwell in the only place where change really happens. It can be terrifying. It can also be enlightening, in the true sense of the word. Hurling through the void, we just may learn how to fly."


Then it happens once again. I wake up this morning, flip my daily calendar to July 9th, and there is this message:

"We are deeply afraid of the silence, the void, the vast emptiness. The void is not material; it is force. The void is where God is. God is the potential fullness that gushes out from every empty space, the ever-present possibility of a magical moment or miraculous thought."

Requesting prayers for my father

I have a personal request for all of you out there who pray as a part of your daily spiritual practice, and that is to say a prayer for my father, James W. Spivey, Sr., as he undergoes a delicate lung biopsy this morning to check out the extent of damage to his lungs from a pulmonary fibrosis condition, such that they can determine subsequent treatment.

I love you, Dad, and know that there are many prayers out here for you today, and that you are in good hands. Rest comfortably after your procedure and let me know if you'd like me to come visit, just for the heck of it. We still have 8 more weeks before the baby's due, and maybe 4 of relatively safe travel time. You have always been there for me, and this is the time to ask for whatever you might want.

Love,

Jim

Embrace the real things.

"In a man's life, the absence of an essential component usually leads to the adoption of a substitute. The substitute is usually embraced with vehemence and extremism, for we have to convince ourselves that what we took as second choice is the best there ever was or can be. Thus blind faith is to a considerable extent a substitute for the lost faith in ourselves; insatiable desire a substitute for hope; accumulation of wealth a substitute for growth; fervent hustling a substitute for purposeful action; and pride a substitute for an unattainable self-respect."

-- Eric Hoffer

"Thoreau said that most men lead lives of quiet desperation... Boys, don't be resigned to that. For he also said that it is a characteristic of wisdom not to do desperate things."

-- Robin Williams as Mr. Keating in the movie "Dead Poets Society"


As human beings, we can often get so caught up in our "pursuit" of a good life that we end up living lonely lives of "quiet (and frantic, and hostile) desperation." For example, people often lose themselves in arguments over religion, abandoning godliness while claiming to be either rightly or uniquely representing or seeking it. We slip into it so unconsciously, just as we can slip into lusting after money, power, and/or sex while having sadly given up on the possibility of true abundance, influence, and intimacy in our lives. This same phenomenon will have people at work obsess over short-term achievements, promotions, and raises as substitutes for the seemingly unattainable feelings of loving one's work, doing it with excellence for its own sake, and being properly valued for one's unique contribution. With so many of our past illusions having recently been shattered - with the scandals in the churches, businesses, and governments that we historically gave so much power over us - isn't it time to reach into ourselves for greater responsibility in our choices of action and to reach out to God for more guidance & support in embracing the "real things" that we are born to and promised. After all, these "real things" exist all around and within us, and are right there for the "embracing" - in nature, in our families & communities, in our innate ability to love God, ourselves, and others.

Pay attention

"In the end we shall have had enough of cynicism and skepticism and humbug, and we shall want to live more musically."

-- Vincent van Gogh

"The capacity for delight is the gift of paying attention."

-- Julia Cameron

Sometimes it's just so hard. As we get older, we develop a "crust" from all of our experiences that can sometimes get so thick. And we are dulled in the process. It's like having thick cataracts over our senses. How interesting that I just happened to use the word "cataract" in this context, because when I looked it up for its proper spelling, the first definition in the dictionary for "cataract" is "large waterfall or heavy deluge," before you get to the one about "a thick, abnormal opaqueness of the eyes." How interesting that I just came back from a run, and midway through the 3-mile course I had mapped out, the sky opened up on me. And as I was running, at the point where the rain had just started falling, I remember my first feeling was irritation, and my first instinct was to turn for home. But then it started coming down really hard, so I thought, "what the hell, it actually feels pretty good." And then I started noticing how fantastically beautiful it was and how great it felt to be running in the pouring rain. I felt very alive in that moment. Isn't it interesting that it took a "cataract" to cut through and clear up my cataracts. At one point I swear I could even hear and see Gene Kelly dancing and splashing through the streets in "Singing in the Rain." "Let the stormy clouds chase ... everyone from the place. ... Come on with the rain; I've a smile on my face. ..."