Buy me anything,
Spend your money on me,
Get me just the right gift.
But tell me you love me and forgive me
and you have my heart.
LMSM,
Don
Christmas Eve
It could have gone very poorly but it was Christmas eve at the market and I was getting a few last minute things and the checkout lines were record length. I chose Lynda’s line because she’s always been helpful in many ways.
Fifth in the line of 10 or more, directly behind me, number 6 began complaining and her rant of impatience was desperately looking for support among the ranks. But nobody was biting.
“I can’t believe…blah…blah” she continued.
And as if we’d rehearsed it, we all began talking among ourselves about the joys of the holidays, how Lynda was our favorite checker and we all made light of it when the receipt tape ran out on number 2, the gift cards didn’t validate on number 3 and number 4 could get two more 12 packs for free on the promotion though he didn’t speak enough English to understand her. Number 8 chimed in with a translation and we all laughed and waited for the box boy to return with his other two.
All except number 6. She stood there fuming.
No matter how busy this holiday season, keep your cool, keep your joy, wish Merry Christmas to all numbers 1-10 and say a little prayer for the number sixes who just aren’t there yet.
abracadabra
and you woke up too early but you aren’t really too tired so
you redeem the time and get some things done you’ve meant to
for a long time.
and the coffee is just the right blend of creamer and sugar.
and the dogs hurry up and pee without you coaching them
and a call comes in from a longtime friend with no agenda
and it’s perfect timing because you have an hour left to kill before work.
and work isn’t all that much work like you thought it would be today.
It was actually kind of fun and inspiring
and you notice that your vitamins and breakfast really helped keep you going.
and you get off a little early unexpectedly
and your car isn’t making that sound this afternoon like it always does
and the traffic which should be nuts, just isn’t this time
and you get home to your pup who’s extra clingy and kissy
and you realize you have some pretty good leftovers for dinner
and there’s actually a good movie you’ve wanted to see on TV
and while you don’t drink, an eggnog and brandy sounds good
and surprisingly, you get the mix just right
and someone wants to play fetch again
and he wants to cuddle just at the time the movie is starting
and you don’t remember much of the movie because you fell asleep
and you dreamed you were flying
and you woke up and crawled into the freshly washed linens from this morning
and you thought how the day was pretty wonderful
and you curled up that pillow just right
and you notice
that what you took notice of today
is what happened
and you fell asleep.
Abracadabra.
It’s not magic.
It’s an Aramaic phrase meaning
“I create what I speak.”
When you begin noticing how blessed you really are and you search for signs of it through your day, speak them out and you will create a pretty magical day for yourself every day.
LMSM,
Don
Merry Christmas!
Thank you for reading my stories this year!
I’ve posted nearly 40 stories of my life in just three months time and have nearly 500 regular readers! Enjoy my two submissions for Christmastime and if you’d like to order a LifeMeansSoMuch.com T-shirt, email me at dondida180@gmail.com.
Here’s to a year of new stories in 2014 to make you laugh, cry and inspire you to live like life means so much!
LMSM,
Don
your inner Rudolph
By now it’s possible you picture me in the early morning hours, clad in autumn cardigan, over an antique desk in a dimly lit room, peering through bifocals, gently tapping out stories of life between sips of chamomile tea and searching for words in glances over the sound of a crackling fireplace.
Actually, it’s 230am and I’m squatting over the coffee table in my boxers eating a leftover sandwich unshowered from last night, greasy fingers slipping on the keyboard between curses at my dog who wants a bite.
I will, however, turn on the fake fireplace to salvage a slightly better visual.
But Christmas is upon us, and I have something to say about it if I haven’t already ruined the romance.
I am a big fan of Christmas movies.
Each year, especially when my kids were younger, we endeavored to be the image of Christmas we all savor. A lovely little dinner, dad’s killer chex mix, the annual couch- cuddling, hot-chocolated viewing of Christmas In Connecticut and a sleigh ride in my little red car to see Christmas lights around town.
This year, the kids are, of course, older, busy with spouses, kids and work and general adulting and it’s clear the traditions which brought us close each winter may be slipping into memories as good things often do. I’m okay with it. My recollections of earlier years are still quite fond and full of life as I watch our movie alone, wishfully dreaming of the someday resurrection of our holiday tradition with my new granddaughter nestled warm in my arms. I still look a lot like Santa Claus these days and I’ll have a whole new generation to impress soon.
Thinking of small children, last night I again stayed up past my bedtime to watch Burl Ives’ classic animation “Rudolph.” I think I have watched it each December since I was a little one in my jammies on Christmas Eve before bed. There’s something about Rudolph that speaks to all generations. After all, he was different. Quite different.
The life and times of Rudolph narrated by the Burl Ives grampa voice assures us that while we are different, everything is going to be okay in the end. It has to be. It will be. That is the hope with which we both enter and exit this crazy world.
We meet other perfect reindeer along the way and somehow the sweetness of life gets burned. We find others who fortunately also don’t fit the mold and we call them friends. We set out on adventures together, meet abominable circumstances and push through with what we have, eventually to discover that what were once our misfittings, eventually become heroes of our own stories that will save the world.
In the land of the blind, the cross-eyed is king.
My own inner Rudolph lights up at this thought, reminding me of another misfit who was born to us we now call King. Okay, you say, he is NOT gonna compare Rudolph the Red-Nosed-Reindeer with Jesus.
Oh yes I am, right here in my boxers, I am.
Do you recall?
The most famous Savior of All?
I admit, that was pushing it.
But if you think about it, the entire story of the life of Christ was one big venture into a misfit world. Born of a virgin who traveled on a donkey for a hundred miles to be birthed in a manger among farm animals, he was all but banished to an unknown land, met with 30 some years of truly abominable circumstances…all of this so that he could be the salvation of misfits. He sees beyond our strangeness and provides love and a home for each of us in a non-conforming world.
Jesus is my inner Rudolph. He was different. Quite different. The light of the world for all misfits to follow, and for it, he went down in history.
Find your inner Rudolph this Christmas and your own happy ending story.
my Christmas tree
While strolling through the yard one day,
I veered a path just off the way.
There wedged amid three living greens
A dying lonely bush between.
And held within those vibrant plants
T’was there I glimpsed its noble stance.
First thought a weed but then beheld
The story told how it was felled.
How long ago it lost its way
But chance divine now helped it stay.
A mirrored image of our life,
And path we’ve journeyed pain and strife.
Now captured, held, and waiting there
This little bush received the care
Of three green friends who thought it best
To save and love him in their nest.
Their grasp held firm until this time
Released one winter morn I’d find
This weed was much more than it seemed,
I saw a noble fir redeemed.
Resurrected here in front of you,
A symbol of life was born anew.
Now rooted deep, adorned and given
A Christmas tree and a life forgiven.
Some people just won’t go away.
No matter what you do,
some people just won’t go away.
I tried. Believe me, I tried.
A decade ago, I sat him down in a camp bunkhouse in Prescott, Arizona, and took the better part of the afternoon to tell him just how I felt.
I was different. Things had changed. I was going to pursue other interests.
Remarkably, he didn’t flinch.
I spent the better part of the next several years avoiding him. Though he was always less than a mile away, I usually only saw him from a distance on holidays, keeping myself unnoticed, hidden in the crowd. I know he saw me on occasion but to avoid discussion, I always left early.
Still, he was there.
What kind of person still hangs around and waits for you, hopes in you, believes in you and still wants to be your friend when you offer nothing in return?
Some people just won’t go away.
I thank God.
I went off and did my own thing for many years, lost everything and don’t have much to show for the adventure but the adventure itself and the life lessons I learned. But at my lowest point, I remembered my faithful friend.
I called him up. And as I had done many years prior in that camp bunkhouse, I told him my story.
And once again, he didn’t flinch.
Sensing the prodigal son story embedded in my tale, he promised to never go away.
Today I work for him.
He gave me a job when no one else would.
An incredibly busy man, hundreds clamoring for just a moment with him each day,
he finds a moment to say hi and check in with me.
I have learned many lessons in my life,
but none so poignant about perseverance in friendship
as he has taught.
Today is his birthday.
I would love to be able to give him something as memorable as he has given me to thank him for his profound influence on my life. He met the depth of my depravity with a breadth of love I have experienced with just one Other.
Happy Birthday my friend.
And thank you for giving me reason to celebrate life again.
LMSM,
Don
Love does
A recent Facebook study reports a dramatic change in the connectedness of society. What used to be the proverbial “6 degrees of separation,” representing the number of people in a friendship chain, at least among the 1.2 billion Facebook users, is now 3.74 degrees. Essentially, this means “when considering another person in the world, a friend of your friend knows a friend of their friend.”
It’s a small world after all.
The mathematical change in the friendship factor, however, is also accompanied by a definitional change. We may, indeed, be closer in proximity to one another, at least in cyber terms, but are we also “friends” in the traditional sense of the word? I think not. I’ll be the first to admit that social media contacts are not necessarily as social as we perhaps would like.
In reality, we may be more acquainted with the world’s inhabitants, but we are no better connected in meaningful ways with people than a rogue bird joining a flock flying south for the winter.
“Meaningful ways.”
That kind of begs the question, doesn’t it?
What constitutes “friendship?” Certainly it’s more than acquaintance or a mathematically equated number. And if you’re on the internet, you’ve encountered thousands of memes, captioned in pretty pictures, describing traits of good friends. Yawn.
Once, in my own mini-experiment, I posted two back to back posts immediately following one another. The first was a simple request of anyone who might be nearby at some point in the day, to give me a lift to a destination not a mile away. The second was a funny kitten picture I had captioned. Now, I live immediately off the busiest part of the freeway where traffic is constant and I made it clear that the very short ride could be offered at any time of the day that might be convenient. My “friend list” on Facebook numbered about 600 at the time and it was a public post for widest possible reach to those who might make an offer, suggestion or even a good excuse why they could not.
On that first post for a ride, I received one “like” and no comments. The cute kitty got a whopping 36 likes and a dozen adorable comments. I can only presume that the same people who saw the first also saw the next.
Certainly, this was no scientific experiment nor did it prove much at all except maybe my original point…that friendship is redefined, like it or not.
I have always been an advocate of what I call “revelational friendship.” In my program of study for my graduate degree, we learned there are different levels of communication, with each successive level indicating a greater likelihood of commitment to a relationship. The first level, cliché communication included basic niceties like “Good morning,” “How are you?” and “Nice weather, eh?” Basically, stuff one says to acknowledge another but not commit to a conversation or, really, much more. The second level, “informational sharing,” would suggest a need to communicate a fact or notice to someone but without a need nor expectation for reciprocation. “The boss is out today,” “Joanie needs picked up after volleyball,” and “I’ll bring the main dish to the picnic.” The level of commitment to the receiver is minimal and no self disclosure beyond the facts is offered. The third level, includes the “sharing of ideas” which thrusts us into a potential for risk. “I like the Rolling Stones,” or “Green is my favorite color, “ or “Let’s do it this way,” are all simple statements which could be disagreed with or disapproved of. In this level, the communicator takes a calculated risk that the receiver will not attack with an opposite or condemning view.
It’s at this point when I think friendship begins to emerge.
Now before I finish with the last two levels, think of the comments you observe on most social media posts you see. Exactly. With a few exceptions, this is where most end.
The fourth of five levels: “sharing emotions.” “I feel a little scared,” or “It’s just sad that this is happening,” or “I can’t take it any more,” would be indicators that either you or the other party is endeavoring to trust each other with a highly rejectable and risky statement of feeling. Remember, feelings, in and of themselves, are neither right nor wrong. They are, very simply, your own. Most won’t share much on this level unless it’s with someone they trust or at least, would like to trust. Have you ever seen a Facebook reply to someone’s emotional issue with “You shouldn’t feel that way!,” or “Don’t worry, be happy!” These are excellent examples of why social media, generally speaking, is no place for expectation of intimacy.
There are many “friends” who elect to remain behind their cyber walls and profiles, never to meet, never to offer any meaningful response or assistance and very likely, never to receive any.
Friends in deed
are friends, indeed.
Recently, my church ran a teaching series called Love Does, titled after the book by Bob Goff. The challenge was to reach beyond mere words of love to make them tangible demonstrations in our friendless world. As a culminating action, 2,000 of our men, women and children invaded our community with acts of caring, help and kindness.
Abraham Maslow proposed people can’t “hear” any bigger message than their current level of need allows. Those without a bed to sleep in or a meal to eat simply cannot hear any message beyond until those basic human needs are met and satisfied.
So as friends of the community, all 2,000 put in a long day of concentrated, hard labor at a few select locations in the valley in order to make a dramatic difference in the lives of needy people and a demonstration of the power of people who, together, put their friendship into action. Love does.
It’s a verb.
Let me summarize by suggesting a couple things.
First, lower your expectations for social media connections. It ain’t happening. Get out there and actually meet someone in person. Don’t expect social media friends to be a true reflection of your value, likeability or expectation of who will, indeed, come through at the toughest moments.
Second, invest most in those who invest most in you. This is not to suggest ignoring others, but if your money was time and you wanted to make the most of it, you’d put it where the best returns are most probable. Build a portfolio of friends at all levels and hold fast to those who take tangible emotional and behavioral risks to be there for you.
Finally, stop saying and start doing, regardless of reciprocation. The world is becoming an evermore connected place of people open to influence. If you have a message to share, first share yourself in deed to the other. They’ll be more apt to listen to your words as a result.
Indeed.
LMSM,
Don
The 99.18% Chance of Survival
I woke up this morning. And I smiled.
Not such a big deal when millions do it every morning.
But today was different.
If you can get past the embedded morbidity of my following thought, I believe you might just get the point.
You see, I had this not-so-fleeting sense upon waking. I know it’s not uncommon to have, and I’ve had it before. Only when it happened before, I cried.
I had a sense that I might just die today. Very seriously, die. Croak my last and keel over. Kick the bucket, take the big nose dive, whatever you want to call it.
No idea how or when. It could be in the middle of writing th
Okay, that was the extent of the morbid part, but it got me to thinking, as such things ought.
Statistically speaking, I have a 99.18% chance of surviving until tomorrow.
That means there is a high probability I will, indeed, finish this story and get it posted.
But I digress once again.
So why did I smile this morning when once before I cried?
I’m not looking forward to dying. I don’t do pain well, however, it’s an inevitability of living. I suppose the smile comes at this point in my life because I am quite happy with who I have become. Granted, it has taken nearly 53 years to arrive at this point but with most of my life behind me, I’m pretty set in my ways and I like the ways I am living now.
That wasn’t always the case
I’m far from having the most toys. I own very little and I earn even less. I’m not well traveled. The most crucial part of my life’s education has only just begun. I have my childrens’ weddings to attend, grandbabies to hold and very likely, many more sad moments of losing ones I have loved who will pass before my time. My bucket list, I am quite certain, will receive fewer check marks than I will ever hope to give.
But I pause to consider what I have.
If I were to beat the odds and die today, I would die with optimism, hope and vision. I would die running with my life in hand and very little else, tangibly speaking.
I believe life is more than acquisition.
The gathering of experiences, things and moments make for great memories and fun. We all will continue this gathering until we can gather no more, and that’s expected.
The difference for me is not a tally of these things but a knowledge I am firmly on the path to receive them should they come my way. The path.
The path IS the destination.
There will always be one better toy, one better time, one better moment to be experienced. But if you set your sights on these peripherals, you will die with regrets and an insatiable hunger for that one last whatever.
I now know my God when I once did not.
I’m reminded of the story about how His lamp illuminates only the ground underneath our feet as we walk through life. Rarely does He shine a flashlight into the distance along our path as we may become afraid to take the next step, fear the duration of our journey or retreat from what lies up ahead.
The path. That’s it. Period.
When you emerge from the underbrush and find that path, it is immediately apparent. It’s what you have sought because you know where it leads. There is a peace and a calming pace. You enjoy what’s under your feet each moment. No concern for anything out of the light He provides you. No preoccupation with arriving.
Because you know you’ll wake up with a smile when you do.
LMSM,
Don
Something to think about on this Anti-Bullying Day
One of the most powerful statements I have heard in my life was this:
Hurt people
hurt people.
We may never fully understand why bullies do the things they do.
We may never get our apologies.
Perhaps our only consolation will be the knowledge of this fact.
It is not a defense of their actions nor an excuse for their behaviors
but it may help us gain perspective and engage us in prayer for those who are now or have ever been bullies in hopes that they will pause, if just for a moment, to think before they act.
LMSM,
Don