I am not the only one who
THINKS
or most certainly
F          E          E          L          S
I    T.          .          .

But I keep looking for the rest of Summer
as soon as the last sparkler loses its sparkle
on the 4th of July
which got me to thinking about things
a little beyond Summer
and this one Summer of 2023
being the last one any of us will
ever live.        .       .
h      e      n      c      e:

100 Summers                                               

100 Summers from now
I’ll be gone
and so will everyone
I know and love
(and you too, dear reader)
My name won’t be
remembered or spoken
The Okay-ness
of this is that after
100 Summers gone
is there’ll be as many
Falls, Winters and Springs
taking their places as
100 Seasons before
without much explanation
(recently written for a 15 poems in 10 day challenge for local gems)

Uhhhhhhhhh
days gone by
are never really days
g  o  n  e.        .        .        .

]]> http://thecaringcatalyst.com/5984-2/feed/ 0 5984 http://thecaringcatalyst.com/its-in-every-one-of-us-3/ http://thecaringcatalyst.com/its-in-every-one-of-us-3/#respond Mon, 28 Feb 2022 12:00:31 +0000 http://thecaringcatalyst.com/?p=5401

I first saw this clip of
It’s In Everyone Of Us

by David Pomeranz
nearly 30 years ago
and yet
T  O  D  A  Y
it feels
new all over again
with one simple message:
LET’S GET ALONG
The seeds of Peace lie within each of us;
but no seed grows that’s not planted,
nurtured,
harvested
and ultimately
s       h       a       r       e       d.             .            .
And the tools
are already in your hands
to be used
.            .            .will you?

W            H            E            N  ?

(“God shall judge between the nations, and shall decide for many peoples; and they shall beat their swords into ploughshares, and spears into pruning hooks; nation shall not lift up sword against nation; neither shall they learn war anymore.” (Isaiah 2:4)

This is not just a vision.      .      .
but a realization
waiting for you
to make it happen 

And, really.             .            .
It’s TIME to
A          C          T
like IT

We all do it
.           .           .in fact,
it may be the one thing that every single one of us are
E            X            P            E            R            T            S:

F  R  I  T  T  E  R  I   N  G

SOMETIMES BEING ALL THINGS TO ALL PEOPLE
MEANS BEING NOTHING
TO NO ONE.          .          .

We are all so busy
DOING THE BUSY
that we let the
PRECIOUS
slip us by
without much noticing it
.           .          .THE EXTRA of the o r d i n a r y
and then much to late
with much less than an
exhausted sigh
it’s ALL gone.          .           .
WE WISH FOR MUCH
but seldom for
the REALIZATION OF NOW
the RIGHT HERE
the MOMENT
the NOW

NOT TODAY
NOT EVER
as long as you ask often:

WELL.              .             .
What answer you

Never make a
QUESTION
what you can have as a
LIFE STYLE STATEMENT

FRITTER ON
(no more)

HOW OFTE DO WE SAY:
“Wow, it just seems like yesterday?”
How about:
239 months ago
How about:
1044 weeks ago
How about
7307 days ago
from
RIGHT NOW.            .            .
hardly some kind of
y e s t e r d a y

Maybe the greatest way to remember one day, one month, one year, or TWENTY, isn’t to look back but ahead and just live better. Just LIVE better.  It most likely won’t change the world; it most likely won’t even be remembered, but for now, one person at a time ,one compassionate act at a time.     .     .
JUST LIVE BETTER.          .           .
not unless,
not except,
not if,
not but,
not or,
not until, |
just live better
and then maybe we’ll find
THE GREATEST WAY TO REMEMBER
IS JUST NOT TO FORGET

MAYBE YESTERDAY
is a lot closer
than we ever knew
and now know
for an ever

DO YOU BELIEVE
that a
LIFE TIME
can be lived in a moment. . .
Maybe the saddest thing
about this one minute award winning film
is that it’s
J U S T
A ONE MINUTE AWARD WINNING FILM 
(And not a an-everyday-reality)
Psssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssst
Be
A Caring Catalyst
enough to
DISPROVE
IT

The truest of all truths
and of all data based evidence
is what we know
is what we know that we know
is what we bet our lives that we know
but spend every heart beat trying to
D I S P R O V E:
ONE
OUT OF
ONE
OF US
DIES
. . .even those we know
who seem to defy it
are teflon proof
EXEMPT
just because of
WHO THEY ARE. . ,
SCOOTER IS ONE OF THEM
(until he wasn’t)

Mark “Scooter” Bakaitis

October 29, 1950 – June 10, 2020

Born October 29, 1950 to Rita Washinski Bakaitis and Albert Bakaitis in Washington, Pa. Graduated from Washington High School in 1968 and briefly attended Drexel Institute of Technology in Philadelphia then attended several Electrical Technical Schools and Specialized Training. He was employed by Washington Stainless Steel Corp. from 1973-2000 as a Master Electrician.

In 1975 he married the love of his life, Elizabeth “Becky” Krager and in 1979 a son, Eric David was born to them. Eric precedes him in death.

During his life in Pennsylvania, Scooter enjoyed many varied hobbies and interests. He was an avid bow hunter and fisherman, loved all outdoor activities such as boating and camping with his family and friends, coached little league baseball and basketball with his son.

Throughout his lifetime Scooter enjoyed weight training and the social life that comes in a gym setting. His passionate daily project was a free “Internet Joke Service” that he started after the death of his son to try and “brighten the world”. His wife Becky and he also organized a group called “Friends Helping Friends” at this time. In 1999 he organized the “Guyz Lunch” meeting for every Tuesday of the year which continues today.

Upon moving permanently to Florida in 2004 he renewed his enjoyment of motorcycles, started raising orchids and plants, also his musical interests which included “The Blues” and playing the guitar and model railroading.

He was also very active in his community, four years as ARC chair for his community and for many years as he would say “As a Professional House Bitch” for his snow bird neighbors when they went north for the summer.

He would say, “I don’t go to church, but Me and God are tight”. His church was the canal in his backyard or the ocean/beach, where he would go to “Chat with God”.

Scooter is survived by his beloved wife Becky and their “adopted children/adults” Nicholas and Lindsay O’Brien, Justin and Rachel Sienkiel and Erik Larson and wife Santella, as well as his brothers Al (Jeanne) and Brian and nephew Nathaniel. 

I used to think
A FRIEND IS SOMEONE WHO KNOWS EVERYTHING ABOUT YOU,
AND STILL LIKES YOU. . .
I kind of believe now
that a Friend like Scooter
is someone who can do you for
and for those you love
what you have no power
within you to do;
He did for me and my family
(and countless others)
what could have never been done
without him:
MAKING HIS HOME IN FLORIDA OUR VACATION FOR THE PRIME YEARS OF OUR CHILDREN’S LIVES
HE GAVE EXPERIENCES
HE GAVE ENDLESSLY OF HIMSELF
HE TOOK HIS PERSONAL PAIN
AND MADE IT OTHER’S
SUPREME PLEASURE
He was Hulk Hogan
more than Hulk Hogan was himself
THIS IS SCOOTER. . .
Some people are
CHURCH PEOPLE
and a select few
(very few)
ARE THE CHURCH
. . .there wasn’t a person Scooter ever met
who wasn’t a part of his Congregation
. . .his pulpit was muted
because his
ACTIONS
did all of the speaking;
Scooter never came into a situation
that he didn’t leave better
and he had a way of taking
YOUR LADDER
and adding rungs
always so you could climb higher
always higher
than you ever thought you could rise. . ,

The grains of sand in our lives gets emptied out
much faster than any of us would like
and what’s left isn’t discarded sand. . .
It’s not even just memories
SO MUCH AS
as the
E X P E R I E N C E S
that live on within us;
AND BECAUSE WE CAN SHARE
WHAT’S FIRST BEEN SHARED,
now have the potential to live on in
OTHERS. . .
and after all that’s said or done
WE
become what that data-based evidence can’t begin to show:
I M M O R T A L
. . .try taking the Sand out of
That Glass

The Sound of Silence
was written by Paul Simon
and recorded by Simon & Garfunkel on June 15, 1965. . .
I was getting ready to turn 10. . .
The Sound of Silence
was covered by the heavy metal group
DISTURBED
on December 8, 2015
I was 60 years old. . .
Much as changed from
then to then to
N O W. . .

Very powerful video,
it was when I first saw and blogged it a few years ago
and now again
(as time has continued to flow away one grain by grain)
especially when paired with words attributed to Bill Gates:
“When you go out and see the empty streets, the empty stadium, empty train platforms, don’t say to yourself ‘my God it looks like the end of the world.’ What you are seeing is love in action. What you’re seeing in that negative space, is how much we do care for each other, for our grandparents, for our immuno-compromised brothers and sisters, for people we will never meet. People will lose jobs over this. Some will lose their businesses. And some will lose their lives. All the more reason to take a moment, when you’re out on your walk, on your way to the store, or just watching the news, to look into the emptiness and marvel at all that love. Let it fill you and sustain you. It isn’t the end of the world. Its the most remarkable act of global solidarity we may ever witness. It’s the reason the world will go on.’

Some say,
“WE HAVE A LOT OF TIME ON OUR HANDS”
some
“TIME is the never-ending beat in our Heart”
YOU?
Who would have every imagined
THE BLINDING
SOUND OF SILENCE
Shhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh
you can actually
feel it
(maybe too much)

25 of anything is a good amount
but 25 years
well, now,
that’s even more of a profound number
and account.          .          .
A QUARTER OF A CENTURY
25 Years and more. . .
So very, very much more

I began serving North Royalton Christian Church on January 15, 1995, knowing that I NEEDED to have a part-time position to supplement my income having jumped from a full-time Senior Minister position at Westlake Christian Church and a part-time chaplain’s position at St. John Westshore Hospital to a Spiritual Care Coordinator’s position at Hospice of the Western Reserve.  It was a JUMP then and now I don’t regret even though it was a major change for me and the family.  I NEEDED to have this position more than I WANTED to have the position and when Susan Cash, an Elder and also one of the primary people on the Search Committee, stood up this past Sunday in Church and marked the occasion with some fabulous and humbling remarks, (which can be seen at the bottom of this post in full taken from the February Church Newsletter) It only summoned the memory to recall things that the weight of, buckles knees and humbles the heart.  

I thought 25 years ago, I NEEDED North Royalton Christian Church for the supplemental income when there have been few moments in those 25 years that have failed to remind me that I NEEDED North Royalton Christian Church for so very much more, and oh, oh how they have delivered in more ways that we will all fail to fully comprehend.  My best moments (and hopefully, theirs) is when we have lived in full, vivid living color that I am not THE minister of North Royalton Christian Church, but actually and fully, A MINISTER of the church and our greatest achievements and even failings, have been when we’ve seen each other that way.  WE, US, not I or me, do the ministry of the church. In essence, they made me A Caring Catalyst before I knew the true definition on one.

Maybe it’s ironic, but as we are celebrating 25 years of ministry together, I am also looming on celebrating 40 years of being ordained this May.  In such a profound and powerful way I fully KNOW that I’m not just a sum total of all the pieces/parts/experiences that make me up, but literally, all of the lives who have made my life, MY LIFE. 

What excites and motivates me now is that there are still lives, pieces, parts, and experiences that continue to be added, to further, and not just expand or make my tapestry, but actually  BE MY TAPESTRY.  A single thread a tapestry does not make.  I’m so richly consecrated  to have that proven moment by moment and better still, person by person.

Much in the same vein of Robert Frost’s poem, STOPPING BY THE WOODS ON A SNOWY EVENING, I so much embody the last verse:
THE WOODS ARE LOVELY, DARK AND DEEP,
BUT I HAVE PROMISES TO KEEP,
AND MILES TO GO BEFORE I SLEEP,
AND MILES TO GO BEFORE I SLEEP.

In a way that echoes those very sentiments, Susan ended her much appreciated remarks with a quote by an author I’ve never really read, Ursula Le Guin.  It comes from her novel, ALWAYS COMING HOME:
“When I take you to the Valley, you’ll see the blue hills on the left and the blue hills on the right, the rainbow and the vineyards under the rainbow late in the rainy season, and maybe you’ll say, ‘There it is, that’s it!’   But I’ll say, ‘A little further.’  We’ll go on, I hope and you’ll see the roofs of the little towns and the hillsides yellow with wild oats, a buzzard soaring and a woman singing by the shadows of a creek in the dry season, and maybe you’ll say, ‘Let’s stop here, this is it!’  But I’ll say, ‘A little further yet.’  And we’ll go on, a you’ll hear a quail calling on the mountain by the springs of the river, and looking back you’ll see the river running downward through the wild hills behind, below, and you’ll say, ‘Isn’t that the Valley?’  And all I will be able to say is, ‘Drink this water of the spring, rest here awhile, we have a long way yet to go without you.’”

I know that my best steps are the ones I’ve never taken alone
but in sync with others
and that the ones to be taken
could be the best ones
still yet to come
with the promise 
that those taken long after my last step
could be the very best yet
even more
because of any step I’ve walked along with others
. . .those are the steps
that keep marching forward
. . .ALL-WAYS forward
advancing
inspiring other steps
to be taken
experienced
s h a r e d

25 Years
and More
so very, very much
M O R E
that shows you the difference between
N O T I C I N G
and
K N O W I N G
I have been so magnificently blessed
in experiencing both
and the best part–
I still do
I still am

WE ARE HUMBLY APPRECIATIVE
Thank you

January 26, 2020 

In Honor of Chuck and Erin’s 25th Anniversary 

In January 1995, we didn’t have GPS. There was no Febreze or Swiffer. Selfies & texting didn’t exist because there were no smart phones. Invisible braces were far off in the future. There was no Wikipedia, Google or Facebook and online banking and shopping at Amazon were not yet available. 

If you were attending NRCC in early January of 1995, you know we didn’t have a minister either until later in the month. That’s when Chuck joined us. 

Over the years, Chuck has presented about 1200 sermons to us. He doesn’t preach, he tells parables—I remember one of his first Sundays here he told us about a character in his hometown who the towns’ people called Ugly. It was a very touching and dramatic story. Chuck has delivered a sermon from the top of a ladder; he’s come dressed as a bum; was an Elvis impersonator; has been Paul, Peter, and Judas; and he often sings his sermons. Once his niece sat in our congregation as a homeless person. 

I don’t think he has ever repeated a sermon let alone repeated a theme. 

And standing alongside Chuck is Erin—we got a twofer—two special gifts to this congregation. We thank God for sending you both to us. You’ll never know how much we appreciate your devotion, your dedication, your love, your spirit, your teachings, and your wisdom. 

I was watching a program about the writer Ursula Le Guin recently and the program ended with her reading from her novel Always Coming Home. I think her words speak to Chuck and Erin’s ministry here: 

“When I take you to the Valley, you’ll see the blue hills on the left and the blue hills on the right, the rainbow and the vineyards under the rainbow late in the rainy season, and maybe you’ll say, “There it is, that’s it!” But I’ll say. “A little farther.” We’ll go on, I hope, and you’ll see the roofs of the little towns and the hillsides yellow with wild oats, a buzzard soaring and a woman singing by the shadows of a creek in the dry season, and maybe you’ll say, “Let’s stop here, this is it!” But I’ll say, “A little farther yet.” We’ll go on, and you’ll hear the quail calling on the mountain by the springs of the river, and looking back you’ll see the river running downward through the wild hills behind, and you’ll say, “Isn’t that the Valley?” And all I will be able to say is “Drink this water of the spring, rest here awhile, we have a long way yet to go and I can’t go without you.” 

Thank you Chuck and Erin 

Written by Susan Cash 

T    I    C   K – T  O  C  K-
T  I  C  K – T  O  C  K

T   H  E  Y

C A L L     I T

T                     I                     M                     E

and  the

MILLION   DOLLAR   QUESTION IS:

HOW  DO YOU SPEND YOUR 

8 6 , 4 0 0   Seconds  a  DAY ?

If you’re anything like me the other 8 Billion Plus People in the World

you have based your life on the

NINE   MOST   INFAMOUS   WORDS   KNOWN   TO   HUMANITY:

IT  SEEMED  LIKE  A  GOOD  IDEA  AT  THE
T     I     M    E

which   brings   us   to   another   important   question

(AND IT IS NOT:
HOW DO YOU SPEND YOUR TIME?)

How CAN YOU
Have the Most Fun in Your Free Time?

The calendar is an indispensable tool in our over-committed and over-stimulated culture, and one no longer reserved solely for work commitments and appointments. Many busy people, faced with ever-dwindling free time, resort to scheduling everything from time with friends and family to coffee on the deck with your spouse.

But   is   scheduling   your   free   time   a   good   idea ?

Researchers from Ohio State University’s Fisher College of Business and Rutgers Business School evaluated existing research (much of it their own) on time management tactics and how they affect the uptake, outcome and enjoyment of various activities. Many of their assessments, which are published in the journal Current Opinion in Psychology, are in line with conventional productivity wisdom. They determined that scheduling an activity increases the likelihood that it’ll get done, for example, and that multitasking helps people achieve more, but with spottier results.

Keep    it    vague

Studies have shown that any amount of scheduling may reduce your enjoyment of leisure activities by disrupting their “free-flowing nature,” the researchers write. But if putting a friend date or shopping trip in your planner is the only way it’ll get done, keep the timing as loose as possible. The researchers suggest designating chunks of time rather than specific hours — “after work” is better than “at 6 p.m.,” for example.

Give    yourself    time

When you find yourself with an expanse of free time, it’s tempting to squeeze in as many fun activities as possible. But studies show that imposing a hard stop on a fun activity — even if it’s to start another pleasant thing — will subconsciously affect your ability to enjoy it while it’s happening. This phenomenon, the researchers write, may be related to our tendency to underestimate how much we can fit into blocks of time — hence why you may find yourself whittling away the 30 minutes before a meeting instead of starting a new task. When it comes to free time, letting the day unfold organically is a better strategy.

Stay    in    the    moment

In a similar vein, the analysis showed that, independent of time pressure, the “mere knowledge of future upcoming activities may also undermine enjoyment,” perhaps because it takes participants out of the moment and splits their attention. The researchers recommend resisting the temptation to over-plan, and instead focusing on one activity at a time.          .          .

So maybe it’s ultimately best the remember:

and better still.          .          .

PLAN’S
B
C
D
E
F 
G

may ultimately be better than any
PLAN   A

and ultimately better yet.          .          .

IT  SEEMED  LIKE  A  GOOD  IDEA  AT  THE  TIME

e q u a l s

WOE  TO  THOSE  WHO  EXPECT  FOR  THEY  WILL  SORELY  BE  DISAPPOINTED 

Psssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssst:
Just go out and
Have The Time of your LIFE

GET READY,
S  E  T,
G    O

Kind of makes you wonder, huh.          .          .

D                    E                    A                    T                     H

Billy Collins has long been one of my favorite contemporary poets and he ponders

D             E            A              T             H

this way in his poem entitled,

M  Y        N  U  M  B  E  R

Is Death miles away from this house,
reaching for a window in Cinncinati
or breathing down the neck of a lost hiker
in British Columbia?

Is he too busy making arrangements,
tampering with air brakes,
scattering cancer cells like seeds,
loosening the wooden beams of roller coasters

to bother with my hidden cottage
that visitors find so hard to find?

Or is he stepping from a black car
parked at the dark end of the lane,
shaking open the familiar cloak,
its hood raised like the head of a crow,
and removing the scythe from the trunk?

Did you have any trouble with the directions?
I will ask, as I start talking my way out of this.

– Billy Collins

I remember at a very young age welcoming  d e a t h;  walking with it; talking to it; trying to understand what it all meant. I don’t know if I’ve ever come to heads or tails of that but I know doing some 26 funerals a month for the past 10 years has brought me closer to it than I’ve ever had in my entire life. The Buddhist tell us that attachment is the form of all suffering and detachment helps us not suffer as much.  I, like Many, am a poor Buddhist.           .          .

I remember as a five or six year old kid, sitting in the backseat one Friday night as we were making our way to my grandparents, which was more of a weekly event than not.          .          .I told my parents matter of factly that I hope I would die before them because I would be too sad if they died first; there was a palpable silence I can remember and that nervous look between parents that wasn’t all that secret before they both, in machine gun like fashion began sputtering off all kinds of reasons why that’s “not the way it’s suppose to be.”

There was the death of my grandfather when I was six and then the death of my other grandfather right before my 14th birthday that I believed I was directly responsible and then aunts, uncles, great grandmother and grandmothers and friends in high-school.       .       .

In a strange way I have learned to not just open the door to death but actually unhinge it. And by just  unhinging it,  it’s let it come and go in places in my life like a undamable flood waters that seep in spots you didn’t even know exists and before it drys all of the way it leaves an unmistakable odor that never quiet evaporates or gets tamed.          .          .

I’ve long ago filled out my own DNRCC and written letters to be read ‘at that appropriate time.       .       .I’ve taped parts of my own Celebration of Life so I can have the “LAST WORD” and intend to attend it if I get a glimpse or a longer than usual ‘heads-up’ that it’s looming before me in my most immediate future;

I’ve even gone further as to actually imagine trying to envision what it would be like to not only lose my parents today, this year, but also losing my sister and brothers to the SHADOW  that knows no Light.        .        .

And yes, I’ve dared hugging the Porcupine-full-barbed-quails-exposed and plunging deep, what it would be like to have Erin, my wife die or any one of my four daughters, my son, my five granddaughters or my
grandson.        .        .

O                                   U                                   C                                   H

That seems to go little bit further than what we would call
mindfulness.        .       .

It’s way less than mindlessness, too.            .            .

Try it go ahead and finish these two sentences:

BEFORE  I  DIE  I  WOULD  LIKE  TO_________________________________

THIS IS WHAT IT WOULD FEEL LIKE IF ONE OF MY LOVED ONE DIED______________

Write out your own Obituary.          .          .

G   O       T   H   E   R   E

TASTE IT

SNIFF IT

HEAR IT

SEE IT

TOUCH IT

Recall the Laughters.          .          .all of them

It certainly doesn’t matter if a Tree gets hit by lightning and no longer can bear fruit or sprout leaves compared to if my wife or my children, grandchildren or even my dog Molly died; and it’s even much different then if somebody that is the same age as my wife or my child or my parents die.          .          .this mindfulness, this acceptance of death; this detachment, is it somehow making me live better; making me love deeper; making me feel and experience more freshly and more deeply?

 I’m not sure, but I do know that it’s not any L E S S. And by taking this door and unhinging it, it allows these thoughts, these feelings to sort of come and go without stopping them or judging them or disallowing them. And it is in that very act that it disarms them; Renders them less potent; Makes them,  DARE I SAY, more
n  e  i  g  h  b  o  r  l  y.     .     .     ?

It seems, these things are the very seeds once planted we don’t fully ever get to see the plants but know that they grow just the same,  and that we are not just tenders of those plants, but also harvesters. It’s growing season always and in ALL PLACES because it never is not THAT season among the Seasons.          .          .

So exactly what is the Takeaway?

Simply that it is not the same for each person or any person in your way of dealing with anything good and bad; Life or Death is not exactly a RIGHT or WRONG WAY so much as YOUR WAY and most likely it’ll be different than Another’s WAY or Experience.          .          .

SO  EACTLY  WHAT  IS  THE  TAKEAWAY?

Teach me your way; let me learn of it and don’t judge me too harshly if I don’t follow it to every detail but take from it lessons that I need to learn at the very moment that I need to learn even again, and let that be enough for the both of us.          .          .

After all what makes us Caring Catalysts.           .          .

What makes us Anything

What makes us Everything

is not the fear we are nothing.          .          .

It’s the Fear that we

WE CEASE TO BE

CARING CATALYSTS
ANYTHING
EVERYTHING
ANYONE’S
EVERYONE’S.          .          .

Excuse me now.          .          .
it’s time to do a little dying
and place my head on the pillow;
close my eyes and be asleep
before the next song on my playlist comes up.           .          .
And even as I die in this way,

A           G           A           I           N
(as we each do every night with even a not-so-good-sleep)

I am confident that I will RESURRECT

either to a new day

or to the One that is never ending.           .          .

For there indeed is a TIME

tick-ticking away.       .       .

a time for both

and yes.          .          .

indeed a time for all