Coincidence? I Don’t Think So… ;-D!

“The word LISTEN contains the same letters as the word SILENT.” – Alfred Brendel

I saw this quote on a friend’s Facebook post. It made me think. I think I’ll be quiet now.
;-D!

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The Beach That Love Built

About six years ago our young teenage daughter was stricken with an “incurable” disease and nearly died. She spent about a month in the hospital, much of it intensive care fighting for her life. She had to deal with an awful disease as well as many blood transfusions and the side-effects of the chemotherapy, steroids, and other harsh medications. She met each challenge, disappointment and setback with courage and class.

Eventually, the disease went into remission and she began to dream of having a party and bonfire for her 16th birthday at the beach with her friends, relatives, and beloved dog Ginger. It took quite a bit of searching, but we finally found a beach that had all the necessary attributes including allowing dogs and bonfires, and that was easy to access for elderly relatives.

A week before her party, the disease flared up and 15 glorious months of remission ended.

Then, at 9pm the night before the party, a friend called with some news that turned our plans upside down. He’d just heard that the small beach that we’d selected and the surrounding beaches were about to be overwhelmed by a 30,000 person event that would essentially close them to a private party when we’d planned to be there.

So that beach was out and no other beach within a reasonable driving distance had all of the attributes required to make her dream come true.

Our daughter had her heart set on having her family and friends, dog, and a bonfire at the beach, but as usual she didn’t complain. In her young life she has had to deal with much worse things than a spoiled birthday party. But it was just the final straw on a mountain of straws that finally broke the camel’s back. She sat down and quietly began to cry.

She then quickly decided that she’d rather have the party at our home so that she could at least have her dog, relatives, friends, and a bonfire. We began making the calls to invitees about the changed plans.

When guests began arriving at our home (which is about 30 miles from the nearest beach) the next day they were surprised to find a sign that read:

“Welcome to our beach, where Dogs and Bonfires are Welcome. Where the beach is small and the waves are so far away that you need to close your eyes to see them, but not the love for our daughter and her little dog too. Happy Birthday!”

Laid out before them was the smallest, goofiest beach you ever saw, but it had been built with love. Our friends had at a moment’s notice dreamt up creating a beach in our backyard. They had surprised us by arriving several hours earlier with a car loaded down with 660 pounds of sand, a palm tree, beach toys, fish
netting, Tiki Torches and much more. Our friends and son had then helped to set up everything.

The beach was built with so much love that it quickly became real to everyone there. The birthday girl and her friends frolicked in the sand, had a barbecue, built their own huge ice cream sundaes, and splashed in the water of a little pool. Then as night fell they lit the Tiki torches and enjoyed a great bonfire.

In the dark, by the light of the torches and bonfire, and with the splashing sounds from those playing in the water of the small wading pool in the background, the scene had indeed seemed to magically transform into a beach.

That night as the girls laughed and played on the “beach” around the bonfire with our funny little dog, I felt for a moment that all was right in the world, and was very grateful to our friends for making our daughter’s birthday wish come true after all.

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Terror and Kindness on Interstate 5

It was the middle of the night on one of
those long and lonely stretches of Interstate 5 between distant small farming
communities. My mom and her girlfriend were taking me and 4 of their other
children to Disneyland. All 8 of us were jammed into our Travel-All, a large
SUV’s-type vehicle that had huge and heavy tires that were made for 4-wheeling.

Suddenly our vehicle began wobbling wildly, as if the big beast was trying to decide whether to flip over sideways or end-over-end! We started spinning while bucking violently from side to side. A kaleidoscope of zig-zagging spinning lights streaked all around us as we grabbed in sheer terror for something to hang onto as we braced for the
inevitable crash or roll.

Time seemed to slow to a crawl while our world spun out of control in a never-ending fast-motion nightmare. As we stopped spinning we were hit with a shockwave of blaring horns and the glaring lights of two rapidly approaching eighteen-wheelers as our dazed brains came to the realization that we were straddling both lanes while facing the wrong way
on the freeway!

There was no time to react or to get out of the way. We watched in sheer terror as the big rigs roared past just inches away from each side of us. Our Travel-All shook, but I don’t know whether it was from the trucks rocketing past so close to us or from our trembling nerves.

We limped off to the side of the highway. It was very dark, but it was clear that both a front and rear tire that were diagonally opposite each other had blown nearly simultaneously. We were lucky to be alive!

But we remained in a dangerous situation; stuck on the side of the freeway with one spare tire and two flats, in the dark with traffic whizzing by.

A man driving a big rig stopped, sized up our predicament, and offered to take one of us to the nearest town where he knew someone he could call who could help us. I could tell that our moms didn’t want to leave the little kids, nor be alone with a strange man on a dark highway, miles away from anyone, so as the oldest child it was up to me to go. I was
scared too, but my going with him seemed the best option.

As it turns out, I had nothing to be scared about. The trucker got me safely to his friend’s shop, woke him, and he worked several hours through the night to get us back on the road again.

I’ll never forget the kindness and consideration shown by those men. It would have been much easier for the trucker to ignore us and to keep to his schedule, and for the shop owner to say, “Sorry we’re closed until tomorrow morning”, but they both chose a different
way–and that made all of the difference for two mom’s and a truck load of impressionable
kids who learned some valuable lessons about the huge difference kindness can
make in the lives of others.

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Have I Ever Done That or Would I Do the Same?

“No man should judge unless he asks himself in absolute honesty whether in a similar situation he might not have done the same.” -Viktor Frankl, Holocaust survivor, author, neurologist and psychiatrist. (Seen in Wordsmith.org’s A.Word.A.Day by Anu Garg)

I’d update the idea to include both genders but agree with Mr. Frankl’s comment. When someone does something rude or unthinking in traffic, or when a child or teenager does something that brings up anger in me, or any number of other things that people have done over which I’ve felt anger, I’ve often asked myself “Have I ever done that or would I have done it if I’d led the life they’ve led or was having the kind of day they may be having?”

Asking myself those questions often allows me to quickly calm down and get on with my life rather than holding onto the anger. In that way their actions no longer control my reaction, mood, attitude, view of others, or how my day is going.

Plus, I’m able to be more empathetic to the other person. I don’t have to like what they did, but I can better understand why they might have done it, and forgive them for it.

It also makes it easier to forgive myself for having done such things in the past or if I do them in the future. Self-empathy can be a wonderful thing too! (I don’t know if “self-empathy” is a real word, but I like it and that’s good enough for me! ;-D!

I hope your day brings a lot of good surprises to you.

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How a Daunting Gauntlet Became a Fun Zone

Some years ago I was standing in a long, long line at a major theme park in southern California (yeah, the one with the ears). I was bored, hot, and tired. I stuck a hand in my pocket and noticed that a sizable pile of coins had built up from all the change I’d received from the various food and snack vendors.

An idea came to me that made my whole experience so much more pleasant, and even fun. I took out a quarter, and when no one was looking tossed onto the ground very close to a young child. The soil softened the sound of the coin falling. The quarter shined brightly in the summer sun and sure enough the little boy saw and picked it up, excitedly exclaiming to his parents: “LOOK WHAT I FOUND!” He beamed from ear-to-ear. I smiled just as big on the inside. This was fun!

I whispered what I’d done to my wife so she could enjoy the experience too. I tossed a few more coins and got similar excited reactions from other children.

The line crawled ever-so-slowly along, and we eventually got to the point where pavement was all around us, and the noise of coins hitting the hard surface would soon give me away.

I experimented and found that I could drop a coin onto the top of my shoes and the coin would roll off quietly, partially muffled by the murmuring crowd. I waited until several young children were on both sides of us in the serpentine line and as carefully and quietly as I could I began sending coins their way. It was great to watch the children as they found and showed off their prize to their parents.

We smiled at each other. Soon, other parents started catching me as I released the coins. They just gave knowing looks to me, grinned, and didn’t say a thing. One winked. It became even more fun as parents shared our little secret. They played their part by acting surprised at the treasure that the children discovered.

If a child didn’t see a coin near them, sometimes a parent would point at it and say to their youngster, “Oh look, what’s that?” That’s all it took to start the joyful reaction.

That simple idea was so much fun and cost so little that it was one of the best entertainment values I’ve ever had!

Now, long lines full of young children are opportunities rather than than the daunting gauntlets they sometimes used to appear to be. They are opportunities to bring to joy and smiles to young children, their parents, and me.

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Rusty

When I was in the hospital recovering from lung surgery many years ago, a friend gave a teddy bear to me. He knew that I’d long outgrown such gifts, but seeing how miserable, drugged-up and helpless I was, he decided a teddy bear was symbolically appropriate and might just provide some comfort. It did, and I appreciated the gesture.

The bear was rust-colored, so I called it Rusty. It may also have had something to do with the fact that as a little boy my nickname was Rusty. I was named after the little boy’s character in a television show called Rin-Tin-Tin.

Rusty was with me in the hospital and in the long, painful weeks during my recovery at home.

Later, when I married and when we began having children, my family learned how Rusty had been with me throughout my illness. When one of us got sick, Rusty was there to help comfort them. It wasn’t long before our young children began bringing Rusty to whoever was sick “to help them get better.” 

Rusty is now over 35 years old. He has faithfully been there for everyone in my family many times. His presence is not only comforting, but a symbol of our love.

Rusty has been through a lot with us. Over the years he has become tattered. He is not much to look at anymore, but you should see the appreciative grin on the face of whoever is ill when he is brought in to them.

Our children are now all adults. As they marry and have families of their own, I have no doubt that such a tradition will continue with a stuffed animal for their families.

In the meantime, Rusty is still here, faithfully and lovingly waiting to help comfort any grandchildren who visit.

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The Power of Love

I recently saw a vid that was called “The Power of Words”. It began by showing a grizzled old blind man sitting on a sidewalk on a busy city street with lots of pedestrians walking by. In front of him was a tin can with a few coins in it, and beside him was a cut-up cardboard sign which read, “I’m blind. Please help.”

Some people stopped to drop a few coins in the can, but most simply looked then looked away as they walked by or pretended to ignore him. It went on like this for quite some time, until a woman walked up to him. She picked up his sign and started writing on it’s reverse side and placed it back where it had been but with her writing facing the people walking by. The man reached out and felt her shoes. She left a moment later without either having said a word.

All of a sudden, many more people stopped to put money into the can, and the amounts being put into it appeared to be larger per donation. This too went on for some time.

Awhile later the woman who had changed the sign walked by and stopped to see how it was going. The man felt the shape of her shoes and knew it was the same woman. He asked her what she had written that had worked so well and she replied, “I just said the same thing in a different way”. Then she walked away.

At the end of the vid the camera zoomed in on the words she had written:

“It’s a beautiful day and I can’t see it.”

While the the vid was titled “The Power of Words”, I like to believe that it was really about the power of love. The love of the woman who changed the sign and the love of all the people who gave so generously when they were able to see the situation from a more personal perspective.

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Making A New Ending and Taking Another Look at Our Beginning

“Nobody can go back and start a new beginning, but anyone can start today and make a new ending.”
–Maria Robinson

I saw the above quote from an email from The Wendling Group. In one respect I agree with the quote and think it is a good way to look at one’s life and potential.

But I’ve also found that my view of my beginning was merely a story, and that stories can be changed. For example, I long held onto the belief that my “biological father abandoned me when I was about 3-1/2 years old”. Over time I’ve come to realize that all I really knew is that he left when I was 3-1/2 years old. His leaving very likely had very little or nothing to do with me or with my siblings. I was able to release quite a lot of the emotional charge from the situation when I decided to look at it differently.

I even began to realize that my siblings and I may have made it MORE difficult for my biological father to leave instead of being a big part of the reason why he left. I simply didn’t know, so it made no sense for me to make things up–especially things that had caused me so much pain: Beliefs and feelings that led to abandonment issues and trying to impress people so that I’d be respected and maybe even liked (which only tended to repel them as they saw through the reasons why I was trying so hard).

The heavy weights of judgment, shame, and guilt were lifted from me when I began to open my mind to other possibilites about what really happened when I was about 3-1/2 years old.

I realized I’d been focusing on all the negatives from that experience. But that was only half the story. Many positives also came from what happened all those years ago:

My focus on family, friends, and other important relationships is in large part due to the loneliness I’d felt as a child. Perhaps also my empathy for others, and focus on easing the pain, loneliness, and suffering of others. And much of what I’ve accomplished might not have occurred without that extra drive to succeed.

In other words, I began to realize that I would not be the man I am today if I hadn’t experienced what I did as a young child.

I’m not suggesting that what I went through was fun or that I’d like to see anyone experience losing a parent at a yound age or any other major trauma–in fact I hope for the opposite for everyone. But traumas do occur, and I’ve learned that like every other aspect in life I can choose to focus on the positives or negatives.

My life has become so much better when I’ve chosen to focus on the positives and be grateful for them.

So, while I believe we all have the power to make a new ending, I also believe we have the power to re-write the story of our beginning by looking at it in new ways.

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The Eyes of a Child

I was just reflecting that many people say they feel old when they become a grandparent, but I’m feeling young again. This will be the fifth time that I’ll get to experience and explore life through the eyes of a child–and that NEVER gets old to me. Every bug, rock, leaf, raindrop, and rainbow take on a whole new sense of wonder, awe, and amazement, and are worthy of much time and contemplation. Puddles become playgrounds. “Walks” become stops, to take the time to REALLY LOOK at the wonders and miracles all around us. In the meantime, just gazing into the little guys eyes, as he gazes into mine, is more than enough for me.

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Courage

I just read an amazing and heart-warming story of four people–two men and two women; mostly strangers–they had to quickly trust each other at a critical and terrifying moment to save the life of someone they didn’t know. They took on a mob of very angry people in a city that was inflamed.

A link to the Yahoo News story and some snippets are below. While the incident mentioned in the first paragraph below is well-known, it is what happened in the midst of all that anger and terror on which my post is focused.

“In one of the most disturbing images from the Los Angeles riots, six black assailants dragged Reginald Denny, a 33-year-old truck driver, out of his truck in South Los Angeles and bashed his head in with a brick… The attack happened shortly after not-guilty verdicts were handed down in the racially charged trial of the police beating of Rodney King, which kicked off six days of rioting that left dozens dead and thousands injured.”

Murphy saw that Denny had managed to drag himself back into the cab of the truck, which was moving very slowly. Murphy ran to the passenger side and jumped on the running board; he saw a woman named Lei Yuille comforting Denny inside the cab. Just then, a hulking guy named Bobby Green leaped on the running board of the other side. The two stared at each other through the windows, each fearing the other was a rioter.

“I asked him, ‘Who are you? What are you going to do?'” Murphy says. “He said, ‘What are you going to do?’ I didn’t know he was thinking the same thing I was thinking. I figured I had to take him on, he figured he had to take me on. We were both over 6 feet tall. I told him I was going to drive the truck and he said, ‘I’m a truck driver.’ That was the end of that.”

From his position on the running board, Murphy was also able to guide Green, who couldn’t see through the truck’s cracked windows. “Each one of us could not carry on the task without the other,” says Murphy. “Bobby couldn’t drive the truck without me on the outside. Mr. Denny was attended to from the inside [by Yuille], and we couldn’t drive the truck without Terry in the front of us.”

The result was a perfect collaboration. “We all came together as a team,” he says. “It was like it was meant to be.”

“His four rescuers, who were all black, became a symbol of hope in the devastating violence that engulfed the city for three days.”

“In every major city in America and in cities all over the world the same thing could happen,” says Murphy,”until we decide as a people that we work together and stop looking at things as race but realize we’re all one.”

I don’t recall hearing about these four courageous people 20 years ago. I remember the news media repeatedly showing the beatings and atrocities. I wonder what would have happened if the media had decided to focus at least a little more energy on the many people of all colors who were working together to save lives, and risking much to do so.

The four people mentioned above are all Heroes of Humanity to me.

http://tinyurl.com/79ffoyv

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