Let's Be Honest

Several weeks ago in a post called “Finding The Knot”, I wrote about the value of having a group we are connected to; like what C.S. Lewis called “a little knot of friends who turn their backs to the World,” referring to his Knot, The Inklings. I continued to explore the idea: What are these groups like? Do I have a Knot of my own? Would anyone want me in their Knot? Who would I want in mine?

The Inklings

I promised in another post that I would identify some people I would love to have in the Knot, that I would interview them, and then report back. This has proven to be a real challenge. Not so much the identifying part, but the interviewing part and then reducing that down to a reasonable length for a post. So, I’ve cogitated, formulated and procrastinated, but have not yet articulated. Until now.

Doug Manning

If I have a Knot, in the strictest sense of the definition, it would be My Amazing Missus and our friend Doug Manning. We meet fairly regularly, go out to eat, many times trying out new places. Then we usually go back to Doug’s place and talk. There is never a spoken agenda, but discussion is always lively, meaningful (to us) and occasionally spirited. We talk about family, current events, music, religion, faith, art, and Tulsa. You see the journey for the three of us began in Tulsa. We were newlyweds, and Doug became our mentor and sage and pastor.

[NOTE: You need to know that I am using the term “pastor” here in a very traditional sense of the latin word which means “to shepherd”, as in Jeremiah 3:15, “Then I will give you shepherds after my own heart, who will lead you with knowledge and understanding.” I am not using it in the more modern sense of an authoritarian, arrogant, fundamentalist, czar-like potentate-wanna-be.]

I’ve been very fortunate to have mentor/sage/pastor type people in my life: Doug, a man named Chalon Meadows, and my Dad. My Dad taught me by example to value spiritual disciplines, to be a lifetime learner, to pay close attention. What I didn’t learn from my Dad was just how mean and ugly “good christians” could be. You see as a pastor, my Dad lead humbly and joyfully. He didn’t sit around our house talking about how conniving and destructive powerbrokers in the church could be. So I learned it first hand.

I came out of the experience bitter and disillusioned and done with church. Weirdly enough, I had a conversation with a guy who was old enough to be my parent, in fact, he and my Mom had been high school classmates. His name was Floyd Craig. In this conversation I told Floyd about my newly-formed disdain for the church (at least my perception of it). He gave a knowing and understanding laugh, and said, “I have someone you need to meet.” That person was Doug Manning.

Not only did Doug help me find my way, but an enduring relationship began—not just for me, but for Arlene and I as a newlywed couple. As for Chalon Meadows, his grace and loving leadership along with a wonderful crustiness, allowed me a way back in to church. Chalon is gone now, but I count it one of the grandest blessings of my life to still have my Dad and Doug. All three of us are veterans of the “ministry” (they, much more decorated than I), and we are all navigating anew the transformation of “church”.

I hope that gives you a sense of why the Knot is so tight for Arlene, Doug and me. The nature of our little Knot gets me to the first key ingredient in Knotdom: it is a place of honesty and the freedom to be vulnerable.

[NOTE: When I speak of vulnerability here, I have in mind the amazing work of Brene Brown. “Thank you” to two more of my knot-mates, my muse, Kathleen, and our friend Trudy for introducing me to Ms. Brown. If you haven’t seen her Ted Talk, watch it here: BRENE BROWN ON VULNERABILITY  It’s 20 minutes long. Only click to watch if you can watch it in its entirety.]

In the next post, I will share the results of my interview with Doug and My Amazing-Missus.

P.S.: I hope I haven't sound too old, cranky and bitter in this post. While I am old and often cranky,  I'm really not bitter. So don't feel like you necessarily have to add me to your pray list; yet.

Celebrate!

WE NEED TO CELEBRATE MORE. Sometimes you just have to find a cause, and decide it's a worthy one.

So Saturday, March 14 at 9:26:53 AM, and PM for that matter, have some pie and celebrate Pi Day. You know Pi: 3.141592653, right?

What pie could be eaten at 9:26 AM? One of our favorite brunch places is Kitchen No. 324 in Downtown Oklahoma City. Their Chicken Pot Pie is amazing. You will know it buy the fried chicken leg stuck right in the middle.

When it comes to traditional pie, my personal favorites are pecan and apple. My favorite pizza pie is Uno's in Chicago.

But to celebrate Pi Day this year, I plan on the ultimate pie: The Frito Chili Pie. Yum Yum.

Help I've Fallen Back And I Can't Get Up

I'M NOT SURE I HEAR AS WELL AS I ONCE DID, or if it’s just that I don’t pay attention. Actually you can look at teacher’s comments on my earliest report cards and know that “not paying attention” is not new for me.

Someone asked the other day, “Are you a perfectionist?” 

“Why, yes, yes I am,” I replied, thinking they had said “percussionist”.

I am a percussionist, but not a perfectionist. I’m not sure us humans have seen perfection, at least with our own eyes. But that’s for another day; another post.

Percussionists value rhythm. The older I get, the more I appreciate it, and need it. I’m speaking here about the rhythm of life. While I love jazz and it’s characteristic syncopation, I find life as a senior adult to be more peaceful when the rhythms are constant. (For example, seniors all celebrate “regularity”.)

Tonight, before I turn in around 9:30p, I will be forced by some kind of law, to throw my routine into chaos. I, and you, will have to “Spring Forward” turning our clocks ahead one hour. Just the other day, I felt like I had finally adjusted to last Autumn’s “Fall Back”.

I don’t know if “fracking” is at the bottom of Oklahoma’s current plague of earthquakes, but I do know that these full-hour adjustments in time itself shift the tectonic plates of my life’s rhythms.

But it’s not all bad. Springing forward is like the first promise of Spring time. On this Saturday morning, the sun is shining bright, but snow still sits in shady corners. In the poetry of Paul Simon:

Look around
Leaves are brown
There’s a patch of snow on the ground

Here are the complete lyrics of the song “Hazy Shade Of Winter” by Simon & Garfunkel. I recommend going to iTunes to buy the song. For a buck-29 you’ll have a soundtrack for this seasonal transition, making rhythm out of chaos. Oh, and it’s also a thought-provoking look at life’s seasonal rhythms.

Time, time, time, see what’s become of me
While I looked around for my possibilities
I was so hard to please

But look around
Leaves are brown
And the sky is a hazy shade of winter

Hear the salvation army band
Down by the riverside, it’s bound to be a better ride
Than what you’ve got planned, carry your cup in your hand

And look around
Leaves are brown now
And the sky is a hazy shade of winter

Oh hang on to your hopes, my friend
That’s an easy thing to say but if your hopes should pass away
Simply pretend that you can build them again

Look around
The grass is high, the fields are ripe
It’s the springtime of my life

Oh seasons change with the scenery
Weaving time in a tapestry
Won’t you stop and remember me at any convenient time?

Funny how my memory skips
While looking over manuscripts
Of unpublished rhyme, drinking my vodka and lime

I look around
Leaves are brown now
And the sky is a hazy shade of winter

Look around
Leaves are brown
There’s a patch of snow on the ground

If you’re intereste in a few more thoughts on life’s rhythms, I’ve written a couple of other posts on the subject. You can find them by clicking these links.

About Time
Aequus Nox

Back To The Present

RECENTLY, I WAS HAVING A METAPHYSICAL DISCUSSION WITH MY 6-YEAR OLD GRAND-GIRL; you know, like you do.

The discussion was brought on by watching a Christmastime episode of Dora The Explorer. Dora has a monkey sidekick named Boots and a nemesis named Swiper. Swiper is a masked fox who, well, swipes stuff. You can help Dora prevent Swiper from swiping by holding up your hand in a “stop” motion and saying, “Swiper, no swiping.” You have to repeat this three times. Swiper then says, “Oh, man!” and walks away dejectedly.

In this Christmas episode, Swiper is swiping presents and ruining the Christmas party. Santa sweeps in in his sleigh to explain Swiper’s fall from grace and the price of redemption. Then in the theme of Dickens’ “A Christmas Carol”, Dora, Boots, and Swiper do some time-traveling to see Swipper in the past and in a bleak, lonely, heart-wrenching future. Their time-travel is accomplished by shaking their travel capes, given to them by a grumpy old troll who lives under a bridge (of course). We get to travel along on the adventure by shaking our imaginary travel capes, and singing the little song: “Shake, shake shake. Shake your travel cape.”

While we were “shaking our capes” Karlee asked me, “Pops, if you could time travel, would you go to the past or the future.” “I’m not sure.” I replied, honestly. “How about you?” I asked.

She thought so hard, you could almost see, hear, and smell her gears turning. “I’m good with the present.” she finally decided.

I explained to her that that is a very smart choice. In fact it was what Jesus told his followers they should do.

“Give your entire attention to what God is doing right now, and don’t get worked up about what may or may not happen tomorrow. God will help you deal with whatever hard things come up when the time comes.” Matthew 6:34. The Message.

More 6-year old gears turning. Then she smiled and said, “Cool”, and we continued watching to see if Dora could help her friend Swiper put his charater flaw on hold through the Christmas Season.

Spoiler alert: The episode ends happily. Swiper repents and the party goes on.

It’s been three weeks since my last post here at About Pops. It hasn’t been writer’s block, so much as it’s been too much thinking about the past and about the future. Some personal stuff, no one cares to hear about, is at the core of it all; I think. It must be in our human nature to do that. Why else would Jesus use some of his red letters to encourage us not to?

But, if you could shake your travel cape, which direction would you go: past or future or both? I think I would go back. Not so much because I would like to change things or because I didn’t enjoy it, but maybe because I enjoyed it so much. Without a doubt I would look some people up and tell them I am sorry that I was, so many times, a self-absorbed jerk. I think I would pay more attention, listen more carefully, use people less, but who knows.

Contemplating the future paralyzes me. If you’ve been reading this blog for awhile, you know that I used to write occasionally about my dream to own an Airstream Travel Trailer. While an Airstream is no travel cape, there is a mystique about them and the travel I imagine that has a grip on me. 

People who know me tend to make fun of the way I’ve obssessed over the idea of owning one, but can never take the big step. The uncertainty of the future scares me into inaction. Not just with buying an Airstream but a lot of things.

Let’s take the Airstream for example. I watch the classified ads for Airstreams religiously. At least once a month you’ll see an ad that basically says, “We used the trailer once but now major health issues prevent us from using it.”

Is there some correlation between buying an RV and having a catastrophic malady? Or, worse yet, what if I buy the thing and then “buy the farm”? Now my Amazing-Missus is stuck not only with my ukulelee and my Vespa, but with an Airstream as well.

[Shake the cape] Conclusion: if they were handing out tickets to the wormhole, I think I would pass, because in the wise words of a 6-year old, “I’m good with the present.” (For now.)