Book Ends

Death book-ended the week. Her friend and my friend. Different environments; her friend lived in the high desert. Mine, the Santa Monica mountains. Cancer and conversation a common connection. The spouse and I encircled in their Venn diagrams; chapters and lines.

There are simple straight metal bookends. Grandma owned a set of small, white, marble Roman pillars. There are flat ones designed by pragmatists and stone carvings that adorn the works they silently guard. Some slide and some are immovable. Marking off beginnings, middles and ends.

“In sin my mother conceived me,” begins one story. Starts and stops aren’t always in our control. But between the bookends; volumes are. Life coaches will tell you that book-ending the day helps you focus on achieving a goal. Funny thing though; goals aren’t the end. They are steppingstones.

Bookends hold books in place; words, ideas, terse aphorisms, stirring Annie Dillard descriptions (‘of hope laid bare’). Bookends are little tchotchkes with a hard and tight embrace around the mystery of expression.

Death does that—it should. Gets you to think about living and dying and story sandwiched between the two. The struggle; hammering out life, goal to goal, story to story—between the bookends.

“The words of the wise prod us to live well. They’re like nails hammered home, holding life together.”

Dreams, Goals, Shot Glasses and Shakespeare

She spun the glass in small circles. Amber fluid, amber table, amber lighting. He lifts his glass to his lips; less to drink than to think. Sets it down. His heavy mug, her petite shot-glass. He leans in. The band plays the bridge.

“Do you dream?” he asked. 

  

“Not much I remember. Mostly black and white.”

“Daydream?  If we weren’t here…Where’d you want to be? If you could be…”

Her turn to drink. “You gonna eat those fries, mister?” Eating the fry like a professor using a smoking pipe. “Don’t know. Travel, teach….” Shoulder shrug. “The business, the bills…You? Why?”

“It’s just; there’s gotta be more! The poets and the Instagram people; Acuff, Goff. Different leages? Different card hands?” Speaking of hands; raises his, flags down the waitress. Downs his drink.

“Before this,” she takes a long swallow. “Before this I thought I’d save the world. Make a dent. But it’s hardly a dent. Maybe a ping; if that’s a thing.”

“I think it’s Shakespeare, “The pings a thing to catch a king.” She rolls her eyes. “So if God’s as big as we say; what if?  Is this it?  Should there be an ‘after this?’ Or a ‘during this?’ If so; then what?”

“So does more...?,” her voice trails off. “What does more look like? Is it inside us?  Outside?” She stretches her legs out straight, leans back into the chair. A horn honks in the street. The band plays a new set; saxophone heavy.

“Maybe we’re to constrained; to adult, to serious,” she says. “What if we stretched…? He raises his eyebrows. “Stretched one thing, risked one thing towards dreaming this week?  Worst case…more hop in our step. So? What’s your goal?”

“Stay alive. Then; I don’t know.  Is praying a step?”

“I think so,” she said.  “As long as you’re moving.  Standing still’s not a step.  Unless you’re listening---then it's a step.”

“Praying’s my step then.  Yours?”

“I’m going to research world-changing agencies!  I’ll share Tuesday!”

“Til Tuesday then,” he says stepping outside with a small hop in his step.

Clown Make-Up and Joy

Of course there was an award. The best costume of the day would win a $25.00 gift certificate.

I dress up for fun. I find the entire process enjoyable; conception to culmination, there is delight in being in-character. I'm satisfied to push a little on my personal envelope, even as I step out a little beyond my box. I know the outfit rocks. The customers love it as well. Some say they need the laugh, others just stop in their tracks.

I was delighting in the experience, finding joy in the process, until somebody said to me, "You will probably get the award." Suddenly, my focus changed to the award. For some brief moments, it became about getting the prize. When that happened, I felt joy leave, and a heaviness ensue. Now it was all about the competition and the prize. Furthermore, now it was up to others to vote me "Best Costume." The end result of the process wasn't up to me.

This end of joy can come to us just as quickly in the midst of everyday living. One moment we are finding joy in the presence of God, in the fellowship of friends, laughter, wind and Sun. Moments later, perhaps unawares, our focus changes direction, and joy is lost.

I need a new job, that shiny car, the new girls' attention, the 47-inch screen television. These become the goal. My joy is now up to somebody else, and a positive end means getting that goal met.

Joy is found in those things I can change. Joy is found in the process. Joy is found in the present. Joy is satisfied in the future. Ultimately, joy is its own reward.

"...Fixing our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of faith, who for the joy set before Him endured the cross, despising the shame, and has sat down at the right hand of the throne of God."

Goals Set and Goals Disrupted

Goals set and goals disrupted. Key components of my trip to Portland. Disrupted goals have to do with our encounter with The Foreign Order of Underground Liberty (FOUL), which I’ll post more about next week. Setting goals is what this post is about.

(Note: You may want to add, “over beer” to the end of any sentence in the following paragraphs to give the post that Portland vacation feel).

It’s one of the things friends do, and we built up to it over walks into Multnomah Village to eat breakfasts and dinners. One of the conversations brought up the question of where we planned on being, and doing, within one year. We agreed that any goals set needed to be measurable. During the daily walk, and then at my friends' house/cabin retreat, we continued the discussion.

Upon returning home, I kept coming across things having to do with goal setting. So, I dashed off the last post on the subject of discipline. Which prompted a phone call from Portland, “What are you gonna do about it?”

Iron sharpens iron, the bible says, and that process by its nature involves heat. Now the heat is on. I promised I’d wrestle with laying out some measurable goals. Said I’d post them, with the initial post done before vacation. So here are some of the goals (measurable) that I’ve come up with.

I’ve decided that each of these will need to be chronicled on a calendar (the old fashioned paper type) so that I can make check-marks, or other notations showing goal completed for that day or week. The cycling I’ll note on Excel. Following is a rough draft which I’ll have to refine over the next month.

Goals for September through November.

1) Buy a house plant. Goal date-mid September. This will also entail buying some type of stand that fits.
2) Cycling. This is the easy one. 3 rides per week (or time on Trainer). By end of November, have done at least one 60 mile ride. (Side note: I plan on buying a bike by end of the year; but it’s a loose goal).
3) Memorize Romans 6: 1-14 by end of September.
4) Calendaring. This is probably the most important goal here. I will take one chunk of time every week to lay out the week. I need to clearly delineate days that I do freelance work and days that I play. Set aside days for Sabbath rest.
5) Bible reading/Quiet time. 3 times per week. No minimum time frame for each day, the commitment is to do it, whether it takes 3 minutes or 30 minutes. I should be done with Isaiah by end of September, then moving into Jeremiah. Will continue the delightful balance between reading some scripture and reading some soul-stirring short piece of writing, such as Annie Dillard, Robert Service, Frederic Buechner.
6) Write a will. Have this done by end of November. For those of you reading this; along with the will I’ll have desires for my funeral on my desktop. Please follow accordingly (if I go before you). I’ll do that along with the will.

That’s the short list. I’m off to Yellowstone; so I may come back with more to add.

New Fat Burning Diet

The new fat-burning diet: coffee and green M&M’s. That IS my diet; but it’s not fat-burning (as you might have guessed)---it’s fat producing. So I’m doing it. Yup. I’m going to buy a scale, one of the ones that measures % of body fat AND tells you your weight. And I’m going to try to not consume boxes of cookies and bags of M&M’s while I’m at home. I only have to lose a little. It’s the attempt at discipline that’s scary. (Kudos to those friends of mine who successfully fight this battle and continue to win).

I’m going to consistently ride (as I’ve been doing since March). I’m going to start doing intervals. Really. By December 31, 2007 my average riding speed will be AT LEAST 15 MPH! And to gain ground on the bike, there is one more thing that I must do.

Back and stomach strengthening. The back pain scares me. It reminds me that I’m only a short step away from significant pain, short-term paralysis, and possible surgery. So I need to do these exercises.

I’m worn out just thinking about it. I need a cookie.