…so fast?

I turned 60 yesterday. It was a wonderful, quiet passage to this phase of life.  When my youngest son was younger, he declared often that I had to live to 120, so I must be at midlife.  Of course, the truth is that I am much further along than “half way” and I wonder how I got here so fast.  I can only imagine how quickly the rest of the life-trek will pass by.

But this is not a negative message.  I’ve pulled to the side of the road at a scenic rest area for a pause on the trip so that I can consider more than I usually do this all-too-fast flow of experiences.  Socrates (I think he graduated in the class ahead of me) said, “An unexamined life is not worth living.”  I examine often.  Too often.  In my self-talk, poetry and writings; in my presentations and preparation for presentations; in my photography and prayer.  Sometimes you need to simply behold and not examine.

As I behold the trail behind me, I see teachers, wisdom gained, sincerity and love.  Faith of varying levels and types seem to hold it all together, too often taken for granted but oft-times tested to its limits.  But, by examination, it is clear to see that my life has been blessed, relatively easy, and something for which I have no regrets.  Granted, it would be nice if occasionally life provided mulligans.  Instead, we have breath:  the chance each day and moment to try again if the previous outcomes were not as desired or intended.  As I share with my sons and friends often, “Never surrender.” Invictus is more than a poem.

My dad was among the older fathers among my friends’ dads.  I was the surprise caboose to the McInnis family train.  When younger men would ask dad if he wished he were younger, dad would reply, “I wouldn’t want to be a day younger than I am right now.”  That is living in the moment.

Dad was one of my great teachers.  His gravestone declares “He has left us a most noble pattern.”  It doesn’t say perfect.  Mom was another magnificent teacher.  Her gravestone states, “Tender mother and faithful friend.”  No truer words could be spoken about mom.  With early teachers like that, how could life not start out from a solid foundation?

Teachers are everywhere.  In my first book, “Listen to Life:  Wisdom in Life’s Stories,” I share my belief that for those who listen to life, there are teachers available every day.  Buddhist wisdom states “When the student is ready, the teacher will appear.”  Listen to life, listen to others, listen to experiences, listen with all your senses and you’ll never be without teachers.  I’ve been blessed with so many wonderful teachers.

My sons are more than my heroes, they have been my students and are always my teachers.  Mom used to say that she stayed young by having me late in life.  Being able to access the lives, stories, thoughts and emotions of our children keeps us young.  I’ve been blessed with openness with, to and for my boys, and I look forward to what is developing as a granddad.  I can only hope that my life as granddad is as fulfilling, joyful and meaningful as life as dad, though in different ways.

I teach a program called Memories to Memoirs ™ and use the tools of that for a variety of other workshops.  The process uses four timelines, and each time I have delivered the workshop or presentation, I am reminded about more of my teachers.  Mark Nelson, Brian Atwood, Jeb Bartley, David Adams and other guys where I grew up on Faust Lane, a place that I describe as a quarter mile of wonder.  The nuns and teachers at St. Cecilia’s, and my friends (and foes) there.  High school buddies and adversaries, and the priests and teachers there. Managers, colleagues and customers at my first job at Handy Andy.  University life as student and employee/administrator, life as entrepreneur, photographer, writer, track (and other sports) coach…the list of roles and functions includes teachers from all corners of those experiences.  I behold a life full of teachers.  To name them all would sound biblical in the recitation of the names of those I knew and the descriptions of those for whom I never knew their names.  Mom and dad somehow instilled in me a fascination and appreciation for all who teach lessons, wisdom and insights.  Examples ranged from pastors to ancestors from Poland or the deep woods of Mississippi, and anyone in between.  Everyone we meet can teach us if we let them share.  Thanks for that lesson, mom and dad.

Wisdom comes with listening, and allowing others to be teachers.  I like folksy wisdom. I recall the Halliburton executive who told me why early in his career he liked to recruit from land grant universities (basically, these are the agricultural and mechanical universities around the country).  He said he did so “because farm boys know the bolt tightens to the right.”  I love it.  His message was deeper than the simple statement; it was full of understanding about people with common sense and knowledge born in experience, not study.  Perfect.  Wise.

Dad had practical wisdom; mom’s was poetic and philosophical, as well as practical.  I guess practicality is a natural characteristic when growing up on a farm (dad) and living through the Great Depression (they married during that time).  Their combined influences created a lifelong classroom.  I experienced the gift of listening to poets as well as the fisherman on the pier, and everyone in between.

We all have wisdom.  The challenge for many is accessing it.  We seek coaches and counselors, guides and gurus in search of wisdom.   Don’t look for wisdom.  You have it.  Search for the key that lets you access it.

Instinct.  Gut reaction. Self-confidence.  Awareness. Intuitiveness.  They are doors opening your mind (and decisions) to the wisdom within you.  It is often the openness that prevents people from making use of their own wisdom.  Live life openly.

Sincerity is the key you seek.  Being sincere about who you are, what you believe, how you feel, what you know, what you don’t know, what you fear, what you aspire to, what you desire, how you love, what you need … is the key.  Be sincere with yourself before walking on the tight rope of sincerity with others and the world.  You can’t be sincere with others if you’re lying to yourself.  Your heart won’t buy the BS you’re shoveling, and then you struggle with dissonance.  Don’t struggle with dissonance; dance with sincerity.

A few months ago, I met with a woman entrepreneur about the possibility of my programs and hers coming together in some way.  We covered a lot of topics and territory, reaching far back into each other’s life experiences to better understand how we ended up in our respective places of business and life.  She said, “You’ve made a life and career out of vulnerability.”  I think she is right, and it has been a good journey because of it.  Vulnerability is openness.  Maybe that is the poet side.  Or the knight side of risking to help others.  I don’t know.  Now is to behold, not examine.

Sincerity walks through the open door with its friends:  genuineness, authenticity and humility.  Ironically, it is confidence that allows them to come together as a team.  Confidence about one’s capabilities and flaws, and humanity and foibles empowers the ability to be genuine, authentic and humble.  Be real, don’t dip your head and push dirt with your toes (that is not humility), and carpe diem. Do yourself a favor and read Desiderata, no matter whether you’ve never read it or have a hundred times before.

About 35 years ago, I drew a picture of my tombstone on the divider page in my binder.  It was a simple stone with grass growing at its base (there is a reason God allowed me to be a photographer – I can’t draw).  On it was written “People knew he loved them.”  I’ve been blessed with love, and I hope others have felt, understood, appreciated and felt empowered by my love for them:  friends, family, strangers, colleagues, team members, clients … everyone.  It hasn’t been perfect and there are those who likely don’t believe me.  So be it.  If I examine my life, I realize that I have not been perfect in this regard based on moment by moment analysis, but if I behold my life as a whole, I believe that I’ve done a pretty good job of it.  I’ll strive to do better.  And I will work very hard at learning and applying “love your neighbor as yourself.”  We must love ourselves first so that we can serve and care with strength, not appeasement.  We cannot forsake ourselves in “love.”  How else can we take care of ourselves and our Selves?  How else can we give due respect to the gifts God has given us?  How else can we love others?

Six decades.  60 years.  Three generations.  That is a lot of moments and memories.  A lot of times as victor and many as the vanquished.  Many as the sage and quite a few as the dunce.  Life is a mix that way.  It is all aggregate that needs to be held together to create solidity and strength.  Faith holds the materials of life together.

My faith in God (which, admittedly, has waxed and waned over the years, but never ceased to be part of my life) works for me.  You find faith in your own higher power.  It is that faith that allows the smaller scale faith that we must have in ourselves, in others and in life, for all the potential each holds.

Sixty.  How did it get here so fast? Zero to sixty in the blink of an eye.

I think I’ll pause on the side of the rode to behold a bit more often, and examine a bit less.  And give thanks all the time.

(c) Dion McInnis, 2016

If you want to survive challenging times, go faster.  Don’t hold back.  Attack them.  Those are the lessons provided by the strainer in fast-water training through a tube chute.  The lessons apply to life.

I’ve never been through the training (my job doesn’t require it and the prerequisite of knowing how to swim presents a problem, too), but my son told me about it.  The tube chute creates a narrow space which increases the force and speed of rushing water.  Fast-water rescuers train in how to deal with that.  The strainer is an obstruction put in the tube that blocks the normal path.   Swimmers can’t go around it.  They must go over it.  Typically, swimmers go through the chute feet first, but when the strainer is in position they must change strategies.  It can be the difference between life or death.

In life, we face challenges while under the influence of forces that we cannot escape.  We find ourselves in the “tube chute” of life and we need to learn how to change strategies to survive, whether literally or figuratively.  Sometimes the life we are saving is that of emotions, or self-confidence, or sense of value.  There are many types of death, and when we are in the grasp of forces we sometimes need to change how we move through them.  The swimmers facing the strainer provide the answer.

Instead of travelling feet first, the fast-water rescue swimmers change their approach completely; they switch from feet first to head first.  Instead of riding the fast moving water, relinquishing their control to the forces, (going with the flow) they swim as hard and fast as possible, headlong into the danger presented by the strainer and combining the forces of the water with their own forces and grit in order to propel them over the strainer and to safer conditions.

…headlong into danger…combining the forces with their own…to propel to safer conditions.  Who in their right might would accelerate to danger?  Those who want to survive.

I think of those caught in the forces of life with a monumental “strainer” in front of them, such as cancer or other health issues, toxic work conditions, abusive relationships, economic hardships, caregiving stresses or any of the myriad obstructions that get in life’s path.   They use the forces that influence them along with their own courage, will, determination, grace, poise (their own forces) to propel themselves headlong into life and living.

If you want to survive challenging times, go faster.  Don’t hold back.  Ever.

The titles intrigue me; their contents disappoint me.

The titles belong to documents on my computer.  Some of them have been carried forward from one computer to another for more than 20 years. 

They have titles like “A New Friend, My Son,” “Something About Fishing Memories,” and “Coach Tybor’s Gold.”  I open a few and they have one to three paragraphs.  They were starters, thoughts recorded so I could get back to them in order to finish the precious memory.  There are scores, nay hundreds, of these started-but-never-finished stories.  For some, I remember the essence but not the details, and for others I have no idea of the context or nuances.  That saddens me.  But, I guess it shouldn’t.

You can’t help but let it happen, this losing memories stuff.  Maybe I hold onto them too dearly, as each memory provides me a stronger foundation to stand on and a higher level from which to see life.  I don’t want to lose any of those moments or memories, but I have to.  It is one thing to not remember things, it is quite another to have a teaser of a few paragraphs that leaves me hungry for the moment that inspired the blurbs.  I want the sights, sounds, scents…everything that led to the moment that provoked writing. I’m thirsty for the details, but am realistic to know that I couldn’t be sated.

As I read more of them, my perspective changes.  I smile, I laugh, I cry and I am reminded how blessed my life has been.  I’ve had a life worthy of moments to remember.  I’ll bet you have, too.  Any chance to save what you can helps create a beautiful tapestry that may not be complete or totally accurate, but it is a work of art worth admiring … it is your life.

The greatest wisdom is often the most simple and it comes in quiet times.  So it was as I knelt in silence at church on Sunday when I “heard” wise guidance:  “Quit filling your moments concerned about future moments.”  Amen.

There are a lot of unknowns in moments that are far removed from now:  job situations, health of family and friends, and much more, not to mention worldy issues like the economy, terrorism and much more.  There is plenty of uncertainty to call out for one’s attention, thought, consideration and worry.  Don’t be too generous when indulging those distractions while in the moments of now.

Another funny thing about wisdom – you’ve probably already heard it before. 

Growing up, my mom offered much wonderful advice and she had a take on worry.  Your mom may have, too.  She said, “Don’t worry about things that likely aren’t going to happen anyway.”  Worry is just one of many ways that we can sacrifice the beauty of the present moment on the altar of the unknown future. 

Planning for the future by considering it is one thing, but losing the present by letting the future consume us robs us of the preciousness of life’s moments.

My neighbor walks his dog every morning and I sometimes catch him when our schedules coincide, providing an opportunity for neighborly casual conversation.  I haven’t seen him in a while, but he made my day today.  You might make someone’s day, too, if you consider what you say.

He asked if I was still working and I replied that I was.  He was referring to my business as we have chatted a few times about my departure from the university world almost two years ago.  I replied that I was still trying, to which he replied, “Keep going.  Persevere.”

I explained briefly that 2015 was pretty tough but that I was hanging in there.  “I’m hardheaded,” I said with a smile as a positive affirmation.  His expression changed as he shook his head.

“No, hardheaded is negative.  You have to be positive.  Persevere.”

He went on to explain how he had quit good jobs during his life, each time to get to trucking.  He had bought a rig after he left his first job after leaving the military.  “That’s all I ever wanted,” he said with an expression that seemed to be a mix of nostalgia and disappointment.  I recalled then that he had shared previously about trying to start a trucking business.

He is retired now, having spent some time in NASA-related work.

I can still see his expression and hear his honest advice when he said, “Persevere” and shared “That’s all I ever wanted to do…trucking.”

Take a moment to encourage someone today.  You never know if their hopes and dreams are hanging by a thread.  Be the one to give them a rope instead.

Success is often determined by how you look at it.

I’m excited that I am a successful food gardener.  Goodness knows, I have tried many times with different plants, but have been impeded by not being disciplined with my time to maintain the gardens and by an over-abundance of shade (meaning have a terrible shortage of sunlight) in the only places that I can place gardens.  It has been a challenge, but I am now a success.

Part of determining success is knowing how you define it.  In that regard, “success” and “happiness” are very similar.  Clarifying “success” for me made a significant difference.  When it changed from “abundant cucumbers, tomatoes and squash,” to “nutritious foods,” I was able to reach my goal of successful food gardening.

I look out now at my “crops” and see greens for salads, leaves for tea, plants that have medicinal value and more.  My harvest will give me options for pesto, salads, breads and myriad other uses.  I’m pretty happy about it!  But there are some who won’t be; success and happiness share that trait, too.  What makes you happy and/or successful will likely make others unhappy or dissatisfied.  For me, the main distractor will be my home owners’ association.

Success changed when I saw it differently, or to be more exact, saw the plants differently.  I discovered that dandelion, chickweed, clover and plantain (the “weed,” not the banana) have many wonderful uses.  You can usually find these names on the side of the bag that also says “Weed and Feed.”

On my consulting side of life, I often say, “see differently, change perspectives, grow authentically.”  My gardening success provides a perfect example of all three.  I doubt others will agree when I let my yards become overgrown with these natural, wonderfully practical plants.  The same can be said for success and happiness.

Where is your idea?  That may determine its validity.

As I tried to process the million ideas running around in my conscience regarding action items for business, decisions related to near- and life-time goals, key elements for life and living…and so on, it struck me that from where the idea came determined its true value.  Was it my head or my heart?

My head has been filled with far too many “good” ideas that make sense coming as advice or guidance from coaches, advisors, blogs, webinars, friends, podcasts, postings, books and so on.  Great ideas.  Wonderful ideas. Ideas I should act on.  Or should I? 

Those ideas – grand and sublime, and everything in between – take far too much of my time as I wrestle with them, evaluate them, sort them, vet them, combine them and mediate them.  Sound familiar?

People can fill our heads.  They can’t fill our hearts.  In our hearts are the few, special, inspired, divine callings, desires and dreams that are truly actionable.  That are truly important.  That are truly genuine and authentic.  That are truly worthy of life and living. That are truly your personal North Star.

Consider where the idea resides and you’ll be better able to sort out the “good” ideas from the ones that really matter.

Hello, all.   As I wrap up my photo-of-the-day project for 2015, I bring you today’s image and post from the project.  Happy New Year, my friends.

December 31, 2015: More than 40 years ago, I took a self-portrait of me holding a poem at this desk which was my brother’s when he entered Texas A&M in 1956. The poem from 40+ years ago was about a poet. I give you today’s poem to close out this year of Still…life.

Still…life 12/31/2015

The year ends
A string of moments
Assembling themselves as memories
Of trials and tribulations
Victories and successes
Healing and health
Sickness and sadness
Birth and death.
In moments of stillness
Life is seen
Heard, felt, sensed
The images filed to memory.
Leap out, take flight
Face the challenges
Ride with the joys
Love constantly
Never forgetting
There is
Still
Life.

Thanks to her Christmas gift, she can draw breath.  She received new lungs on this day of miracles.

She has battled the effects of cystic fibrosis for a couple of decades, and her condition had been difficult enough that she was tackling the items on her bucket list for which she could muster the strength.  Since Thanksgiving, this young warrior princess’ battle became more grave.  She battled mightily as she strived to be placed on a lung transplant list; she moved on and off the list as her condition waxed and waned while on various life support equipment.  Her grit and courage, reinforced by the prayers of hundreds, returned her to the list.

Almost as soon as she made it to the coveted list, opportunities began to appear, but for a transplant like this, the match must be as close to perfect as possible.  Late on Christmas Eve, tragedy for one family (the death of a young adult), presented the possibility of a transplant for the young woman waging war on failing lungs.  Tragedy for one is a miracle for another. By mid-morning Christmas Day, the match was confirmed and the process of preparing for life-saving surgery was put into motion.

Nighttime on Christmas Day, she lays in recovery at the hospital, with a long journey ahead of her.  Inside her is the breath of life.  She reveals Christmas, when we were all gifted with the opportunity for the breath of life in us thanks to the miracle of 2000 years ago.  Christmas is about new life.

Christmas is about God, miracles, love, courage, faith and new life amidst the trials and struggles of living.  Such is the Christmas story.  Such is the truth about Christmas.

Merry Christmas, everyone.

She is a prominent writer of international caliber, starting humbly and now a highly acclaimed, successful author whose books have also been turned into movies.  So, I reached out to her with a sincere note of thanks (for her presentation that I attended) and a request for some ideas on how to take my Daddin’ book to a different level of exposure.

Her reply was nice enough, but eight words ring in my ears like the sound of the jailer closing the door:  “I have no pearls of wisdom to share.”  I find that to be impossible.

Everyone who has drawn breath, struggled and succeeded or struggled and came up short, experimented, discovered … has pearls of wisdom in their personal treasure chest that has been filled by experiences.  Do you keep your treasures under lock and key or do you share them?

Our time on this earth is short, and we all have pearls of wisdom to share:  cooking perfect divinity candy, tying a fast fishing knot, treating sore muscles … the list is an endless as the number of experiences, sensations and circumstances that we find ourselves in.  Every moment, every breath, every action is one of growth that provides wisdom that can be shared.

Several men in the League City Rotary Club make monthly visits to a local high school to help male seniors with life decisions ranging from “what can I do with my passions, interests and gifts?” to “how do I find a job?” or “what should I do after college?”  As we learn about these young men, we older guys are able to provide advice and contacts, all flavored by the truth that we have had failures in life … and survived!  The other day, one of the young men made my day, and he said I made his year.

He wants a life outdoors, working as a park ranger or something in the outdoors and near wildlife.  I was able to provide him contact information to the executive director of a local nature center and now he has a volunteer internship where he will be able to work in the field.  He was ecstatic.  His new experiences will certainly guide him.  Another Rotarian has been able to line up contacts in mechanics and the music industry for some excited, albeit unsure, seniors.  Whether these contacts clarify what they want in life or don’t want is yet to be determined, but at least now they can find out thanks, in part, to a little pearl of wisdom shared over pizza.

You are a living, breathing treasure chest full of pearls of wisdom.  There is no need to keep them under lock and key.