THERE ARE SOME WORDS 
NOT MY OWN 
THAT SAY SO MUCH MORE
THAN I COULD EVER WRITE
OR SAY
B    U     T
need to read or hear
than any that could bounce around in my head
or spill out of my pen
L              I            K            E:

my brain and
heart divorceda decade ago

over who was
to blame about
how big of a mess
I have become

eventually,
they couldn’t be
in the same room
with each other

now my head and heart
share custody of me

I stay with my brain
during the week

and my heart
gets me on weekends

they never speak to one another
   – instead, they give me
   – the same note to pass
   – to each other every week
and their notes they
send to one another always
says the same thing:

“This is all your fault”

on Sundays
my heart complains
about how my
head has let me down
in the past

and on Wednesday
my head lists all
of the times my
heart has screwed
things up for me
in the future

they blame each
other for the
state of my life

there’s been a lot
of yelling – and crying

so,

   lately, I’ve been
   spending a lot of
   time with my gut
who serves as my
unofficial therapist

most nights, I sneak out of the
window in my ribcage

and slide down my spine
and collapse on my
gut’s plush leather chair
that’s always open for me

~ and I just sit sit sit sit
until the sun comes up

last evening,
my gut asked me
if I was having a hard
time being caught
between my heart
and my head

I nodded

I said I didn’t know
if I could live with
either of them anymore

“my heart is always sad about
something that happened yesterday
while my head is always worried
about something that may happen tomorrow,”
I lamented

my gut squeezed my hand

“I just can’t live with
my mistakes of the past
or my anxiety about the future,”
I sighed

my gut smiled and said:

“in that case,
you should
go stay with your
lungs for a while,”

I was confused
 – the look on my face gave it away
“if you are exhausted about
your heart’s obsession with
the fixed past and your mind’s focus
on the uncertain future

your lungs are the perfect place for you

there is no yesterday in your lungs
there is no tomorrow there either

there is only now
there is only inhale
there is only exhale
there is only this moment

there is only breath

and in that breath
you can rest while your
heart and head work
their relationship out.”

this morning,
while my brain
was busy reading
tea leaves

and while my
heart was staring
at old photographs

I packed a little
bag and walked
to the door of
my lungs

before I could even knock
she opened the door
with a smile and as
a gust of air embraced me
she said

“what took you so long?”

  ~ John Roedel (johnroedel.com)

At 40, Franz Kafka (1883-1924), who never married and had no children, walked through the park in Berlin when he met a girl who was crying because she had lost her favourite doll. She and Kafka searched for the doll unsuccessfully.

Kafka told her to meet him there the next day and they would come back to look for her.

The next day, when they had not yet found the doll, Kafka gave the girl a letter “written” by the doll saying “please don’t cry. I took a trip to see the world. I will write to you about my adventures.”

Thus began a story which continued until the end of Kafka’s life.
During their meetings, Kafka read the letters of the doll carefully written with adventures and conversations that the girl found adorable.
Finally, Kafka brought back the doll (he bought one) that had returned to Berlin.

“It doesn’t look like my doll at all,” said the girl.
Kafka handed her another letter in which the doll wrote: “my travels have changed me.” the little girl hugged the new doll and brought the doll with her to her happy home.

A year later Kafka died.

Many years later, the now-adult girl found a letter inside the doll. In the tiny letter signed by Kafka it was written:

“Everything you love will probably be lost, but in the end, love will return in another way.”

Embrace the change.
It’s inevitable for growth.
Together we can shift pain into wonder and love,
but it is up to us
to consciously and intentionally
create that connection. . .
(again and again and again and again and again and again and again. . . .)

Be more than just another story. . .
BE THE STORY
the one that never needs a sentence
or forms a paragraph
or uses punctuation
or ends. , ,

SIMON BIRCH
one of my go to movies
because this is
ONE OF MY
GO TO SCENES
of all time. . .
I’ve used it in
presentations
Bible Studies
HELP-SELF groups
Workshops
ALL
with the question of
WHO ARE YOU. . .
WHY ARE YOU HERE?
( N O W )
because the answer is ever-changing, right?

Who we were as a child at the end of the hand of a parent
IS A MUCH DIFFERENT PERSON
of the parent the child grows into
at the end of the hand of a child. . .

The Movie came out in September, 1998 and it doesn’t share the title of the book by John Irving because at his request he wanted the title changed because he didn’t believe that his novel could successfully be made into a film. . .

Irving’s book, was his 7th novel (WORTH THE READ) was published in 1989. And both, the book and the movie hover around the
WHY
HOW COME
WHAT FOR’S
of Life
and
OUR PLAN. . .
which brings us to
THE SCENE
after Simon
who’s never afraid to ask the tough questions
and lives much taller
than the dwarf he is
is in trouble for causing a huge ruckus
at the Christmas Eve Pageant
and just wants confirmed
what he believes
but no one looking at him
could ever:
THAT HE IS AN INSTRUMENT
THAT HE HAS A PURPOSE
THAT HE HAS A MEANING
THAT HE HAS A DESTINY
THAT HE HAS A REASON
for living. . .
and when the Episcopal Priest
has an opportunity to affirm him
TO AFFIRM US
he doesn’t by answering
I CAN’T
to the immortal question
“I want to know that there’s a reason for things;
I use to be certain, but now I’m not so sure. . .
I want you to tell me that
GOD HAS A PLAN FOR ME;
A PLAN FOR ALL OF US ?”

The PRIESTNESS
in all of us
are capable of answering
NOT WHAT
BUT THAT
the PURPOSES ARE MULTIPLE
. . .tell me,
share with me
your purpose
now
October 12, 2020
(ESPECIALLY NOW IN 2020)
so we can
c a r i n g l y
Catalyst together
to make
I T
happen for each other. . .

C        R        E        A        T        O        R        S

of our own W o r l d s.               .                 .

UNTIL     WE        ARE         NOT.          .          .

It was one of my favorite games

usually played in the back seat of our family car

on long or even not so long

T R I P S.          .          .

For the lack of a better name

we just called it

W    O    U    L    D          Y    O    U          R    A    T    H    E    R

and  it  went  like  this:

WOULD  YOU  RATHER  BE  AN  ELEPHANT  OR  A  MOUSE ?

WOULD  YOU  RATHER  BE  A  MOTHER  OR  A  FATHER ?

WOULD  YOU  RATHER  BE  A  RAINDROP  OR  A  SNOWFLAKE?

WOULD  YOU  RATHER  BE  A  LITTLE  RED  RIDING HOOD  OR  A  GOLDILOCKS ?

WOULD  YOU  RATHER  BE  A  FARM ANIMAL  OR  A  FISH ?

WOULD  YOU  RATHER  BE  A  HOT  OR  COLD ?

WOULD  YOU  RATHER  WORK  OR  PLAY ?

WOULD  YOU  RATHER  EAT  SPINACH  OR  LIVER ?

WOULD  YOU  RATHER  SING  OR  DANCE ?

WOULD  YOU  RATHER  RIDE  ON  A  TRAIN  OR  A  PLANE ?

WOULD  YOU  RATHER  WATCH  A  MOVIE  OR  A  PLAY ?

WOULD  YOU  RATHER  EAT  ICE  CREAM  OR  CAKE ?

WOULD  YOU  RATHER  IT  WAS  CHRISTMAS  OR  HANUKKAH  OR  YOUR  BIRTHDAY ?

WOULD  YOU  RATHER  LIVE  IN  AN  IGLOO  OR  A  TEPEE ?

WOULD  YOU  RATHER  BE BITTEN  BY  AN  ALLIGATOR  OR  A  SHARK ?

WOULD  YOU  RATHER  HAVE  GUM  ON  YOUR  SHOES  OR  DOG  POO ?

WOULD  YOU  RATHER  GET  ELECTROCUTED  OR  SHOT ?

WOULD  YOU  RATHER  BURN  TO  DEATH  OR  DROWN ?

.          .          .the  WOULD  YOU  RATHERS

are endless and you might have come up with a few yourselves
(PLEASE  SHARE_______________________________________________)

AND   THEN   THERE’S    ALWAYS:

WOULD  YOU  RATHER  LOVE  FIERCELY  OR  BE  LOVED  FIERCELY ?

WOULD  YOU  RATHER  GET OR GIVE ?

WOULD  YOU  RATHER MAKE A DIFFERENCE OR BE MADE A DIFFERENCE ?

WOULD  YOU  RATHER  BE KIND OR BE KIND’ED

WOULD  YOU  RATHER  BE  COMPASSIONATE  OR  COMPASSION’ED

WOULD YOU RATHER THE WORLD BE COVID OR HATE FREE

WOULD  YOU  RATHER  BE.           .             .

j u s t     b e 

well
then
v e r b
   i  t
  u   p.       .       .

R  A  T  H  E  R

B     E
THE  REALEST OF THE REALEST
YOU
THE WORLD MOST DEFINITELY
NEEDS YOU TO BE
b e c a u s e
Sometimes we don’t actually know
what we can
D O
until we
D    O
what we didn’t know
we could.   .   .
or would you rather.          .          .          ?

Have you ever lost your heart. . . ?
Loaded question, huh?
Well?
What makes it such a touch question
is just trying to figure out
is that a
Physical
Emotional
Psycho-Social
Spiritual
L I T E R A L Question. . .
Ohhhhhhhh how you should know by
NOW
and all nearly some 800 Blog Posts later
that I’m a Sucker for the Sap Movies
and this one,
LAST CHRISTMAS
is maybe the sappiest of all
and it’s leaked a glue over me
that I can’t wash away
(and most likely don’t want to, anyway)
Nothing seems to go right for young Kate, a frustrated Londoner who works as an elf in a year-round Christmas shop. But things soon take a turn for the better when she meets Tom — a handsome charmer who seems too good to be true. As the city transforms into the most wonderful time of the year, Tom and Kate’s growing attraction turns into the best gift of all — a Yuletide romance. . .
Sa-Sa-Saaaaaa-SAPPY, right?
ba-ba-baaa-but
it made me think
IT MADE ME FEEL
the times I’ve lost my
h e a r t
Uhhhhhhh not so much
physically
emotionally
psycho-socially
spiritually
so much as
uh-ohh. . .
dare I write:
metaphysically. . .
and I guess I’m inviting you
to ask
to reflect
a time(S)
you’ve actually lost your heart. . . ?
Can I help answer?
Are you the same you were
10
20
30+
years ago?
What changed from the time you were an infant
to the time you became a toddler
to the time you became a preschooler
to the time you were in elementary school
to the time you were in junior high
to the time you were graduating high school
to the times of different jobs
to the the times of continuing education
to the times of getting married
to the times of having children
to
N O W
. . .just how many,
HOW MANY TIMES HAVE YOU LOST YOUR HEART
and maybe better still. . .
FOUND IT?
Psssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssst:
Here’s to all of the times to come
and all the Seasons
that’ll allow
the prompting of the question:
WHO AM I?
(MAY THE ANSWER CONTINUALLY BE DIFFERENT
as it has countless times before)

I was never
an academic all-star;
I most likely
was a classic undiagnosed ADHD
Kid who was often classified as a
“SMART KID WHO CAN’T SEEM TO STAY FOCUSED”
during parent/teacher conference
who excelled with
anything to do with
Reading
and nothing to do with
Math. . .
Who
was often writing poetry
and putting together lyrical phrases
that I wrote in the margins of books
or large lined notebooks
that made me look like
I was ferociously
taking notes. . .
I was often motivated to do well in school
so I could play sports
and not to embarrass my
school teaching, coaching dad
and school secretary mom
. . .but it always felt
foreign
distant
and far from a home
my heart beat to reside
UNLESS
I had
THOSE
teachers
who didn’t
look to grade
penmanship
sentence structure
or what I could recite back
after nights of intense memorization. . .
THOSE TEACHERS
that wanted a piece of my mind
and a part of my heart
by inspiring me
with theirs;
who challenged me to read
WHAT WASN’T
on the syllabus
but more in my dreams;
IT
was the one thing that shaped me then
and still drives me now
T H I S
EDUCATION OF THE HEART
which you never graduate
nor receive a degree
but something far
F A R
more important:
A DEEPLY MEANINGFUL LIFE
. . .PAY ATTENTION, CLASS
The Lectures have ended
but the Teaching
is in a never-ending
S E S S I O N
and it’ll not only assure
that your heart will beat differently
IT WILL GUARANTEE
you’ll cause other hearts
to be
forever significantly better
THIS
Education of the Heart

1 saying   ‘thank  you’
2 apologizing   when   wrong
3 showing   up   on   time
4 being   nice   to   strangers
5 listening   without   interrupting
6 admitting   you   were   wrong
7 following   your   dreams
8 being   a   mentor
9 learning   and   using   people’s   names
10 holding   doors   open

Not bad advice, huh.          .           .          ?

A       N       D.            .            .

it’s literally

p r i c e l e s s

because it doesn’t cost a thing.             .             .

no formal education or certificates necessary;

It   actually   becomes

BILLION     DOLLAR     ADVICE
when Warren Buffett tweets it out as he did a couple of weeks ago;

Does it make a difference if a no name or even I

Tell you something as opposed to the exact same advice given by a
Billionaire.          .          .

I will give you 1 billion reasons why it doesn’t

but the biggest one is

I  F
you don’t take the advice that you know is right
for you.          .          .
it   really   won’t   make   much   of   a
d          i          f          f          e          r          e          n          c          e  

I   would   rather   you   open   up   your   heart
than  your  wallet

.          .          .but make no mistake
about this
even though
it may be a more costly investment.          .          .
I  T       W  I  L  L  
be   Everlasting.          .          .

Money doesn’t solve problems people do.           .          .

Deposit   yourself

heavily in another’s personal account

and I guarantee you

b      o     t     h

will not only become richer

but so will the world.          .          .

In fact.          .          .

It’s the only

T   R   U   E         C   H   A   N   G   E

that you’ll ever really need

and more.        .       .

that’ll ever really  matter:

C   H   A–C   H   I   N   G

I see it hundreds of times a week as I chart, talk on the phone, prepare for presentations

.          .          .and yet,

I’m not so sure it’s fully sunk in since I put it up there just a little over two years ago;

.            .            .and isn’t this exactly what it’s all about.          .          .

not only to LOVE.            .            .

but to be L O V E D

or  as  s h e 

framed it:

“T O    H E A R T    A N D    T O    B E    H E A R T E D.            .            .”

Can you see it?

.

Admitted.          .          .

you have to look really, really hard and maybe even longer.        .        .

Look again just ahead of the word

A     D     M     I     T     T     E     D

Do you see it now?

Squint

Squint harder, more intently

Ahhhhhhh, there it is right?

What do you see.          .          .

Here, let me make it easier for you:

PAY  ATTENTION,  C L A S S :

LOOK      BEYOND      WHAT’S      SEEN;

SEE      WHAT      CAN’T      BE      VIEWED

She purposely, intentionally asked to see me.        .        .

her husband was dying

and her request was almost insulting simple:

“Would it be alright if I could bring a heart shaped stone to honor my husband? In the Meditation Room, I saw that there is a bowl of rocks that have been placed there to remember each person that has died here at Hospice House.  I’d just like to bring in a small heart shaped rock to remember him; would that be alright?”Simple, huh?

He died over the weekend.  I never saw her or him again.

When I went into the Meditation room on Monday, I saw in the bowl of rocks a heart shaped one.          .           .

She said, “It was ‘OUR  THING'”

and now, quite simply and humbly without trumpets blaring drums beating she made it MY THING, she made it even further through this Blog, OUR THING 

The QUESTION

really is:

WILL      IT      BE      YOUR      THING ?

She told me, “It was ‘our thing’  I HEART HIM!”

I stood there Monday morning before really starting my day, my week with a heart shaped stone in my hand and the first thing that I thought was that there was one thing stronger than any shaped stone:

L            O            V            E

And so I’ll ask again:

.

DO     YOU    SEE    IT ?

Look beyond what’s seen:

white space or minuscule dot

SEE WHAT CAN’T BE VIEWED

KNOW WHAT CAN’T BE UNDERSTOOD

EXPERIENCE WHAT CAN’T BE READILY FELT

L          I          V          E

H  E  A  R  T       S OMEONE

h e a r t

a n d  

b e

H    E    A    R    T    E    D
(along   your   ways)

She heard me speak.

It was to a large group of Activities Directors

and she wanted to hear more after the last word.         .         .

She saw me in the parking lot after the presentation but didn’t,

well, she was afraid,

not so much of what she was going to say,

but what I was going to hear.          .          .

She called me through an office to another office

who contacted another office

to leave me a message to contact her.        .        .

I didn’t remember her;

and even now,

several years later I don’t remember her name

or recall in detail her face;

They gave me her name and number,

but I had never met her to remember her;

“Could    we    meet?”

She wanted to know if we could meet

at an area nursing home where I would be visiting patients

and, as it turns out,

her Partner of nearly 30 years had died.       .       .

We   set   a   time.          .          .

A Friday around 11:00 a.m;

She recognized me coming down the hall;

I      only         saw         a         woman,

mostly in a shadow

with the sun at her back from a smudged window;

We found a small lounge area

and she began to tell a story

that didn’t so much need telling,

but most absolutely

H             E           A             R             D  

I        l   i   s   t   e   n   e   d.          .          .

L i s t e n e d  

with   my   eyes;

she looked tired,

weary with tears

that begged to streak down her face;

L i s t e n e d    

 with      my      nose;

she    sprayed    on    a    lot    of    perfume;

L i s t e n e d  

 with      my      mouth;

I sipped from a cup of coffee

that she had poured for me from the lobby;

L i s t e n e d    

 with      my      hands;

I handed her a tissue

and felt the roughness of her hands,

her fingers

when they touched mine;

     L i s t e n e d  

 with      my      heart;

words    that    a    mouth    couldn’t    share;

     L i s t e n e d  

 with      my      ears;

but   heard   more   listening   in   the   other   ways;

     l         i         s         t         e         n         e         d.         .         .   

She    s o b b e d

that she had been conceived from a rape;

Cried that she was given up for adoption;

Wept that she has been a victim her whole life

and that her Life Partner

left her when she needed her the most.           .           .

And then she asked me what

I had never been asked before.     .     .

As she wiped her face from tears

that were replaced just as fast

as they were wiped away:

“W  H  A  T       I  S       T  H  E       S  P  I  R  I  T        T  E  L  L  I  N  G      Y  O  U  

T  O        T   E   L   L        M   E ?”

I   didn’t   think.

I   didn’t   react.

I   didn’t   analyze.

I   didn’t   pause.

I   didn’t   reflect.

I   just   answered:

“The   person   I   see   right   here,   right   now   in   front   of   me   isn’t   the person   she   has   seen   all   of   her   life.   Look   at   the   person   I   see and   not   the   one   who   looks   back   from   the   mirror   asking,   ‘why  me?'”

When    we    L I S T E N    just    to    R E P L Y    we    never    really    h e a r!

What.       .       .

WHAT      STIRS      YOUR      DEEP      WATERS      OF      UNEASINESS

T             H             I             S

literally took place

several years ago

and yet feels just like yesterday

mostly because of the question

that she asked

that has echoed through me

and now asked by me

in situations

places

events

occurrences

with         i     n     d     i     v     i     d     u     a     l     s

I  Y E A R N  to know:

“W  H  A  T       I  S       T  H  E       S  P  I  R  I  T        T  E  L  L  I  N  G      Y  O  U  

T  O        T   E   L   L        M   E ?”

I asked it a week ago of Jenny and Steve

a couple who made it possible for us to vacation

A     N     D.          .          .

it wasn’t a tangible worded answer that they gave

so much as a powerful

W O R D L E S S

J     U     S     T               B     E     C     A     U     S     E

v a l i d a t i o n

It’s like looking into a mirror dimly

but being being SEEN

e x p l i c i t l y

Sometimes    what    we    hear,
a    Heart    can    only    shout
and    a    mouth    can    never    whisper.       .       .

Like a ripple that comes lapping up on YOUR SHORE

from an UN-SEEN Place.          .          .

but undeniably leaves you soaked.     .     .

Maybe the Language of the Heart

can only be heard by the Soul.        .        .

understood from the Being.            .            .  

.           .           .N O T      A L L      T H A T      H U M A N !

It RE-ADDRESSES

RE-FRESHES US.          .          .

It’s puts us succinctly

at the bottom of a winding staircase

that waits

b e g s

to take us to a higher place

if we don’t fear the

s

            t

                        e

                                    p

                                             s

D I S C O V E R

that we can grow

In the most unlikely of   p l a c e s

of   s p o t s

if we let go of

WHAT  WE  KNOW

.and grab on to

what  doesn’t  always  seemingly  exist.          .          .

It just might be the one way to concretely KNOW

what can never be ANSWERED

by the question:

“W  H  A  T         I  S         T  H  E         S  P  I  R  I  T          T  E  L  L  I  N  G        Y  O  U  

T  O          T   E   L   L          M   E  ?”

I’m sorry.           .           .

    did you say something?

Shhhhhhhhhhh.               .               .

the more silent you are,

t h e    

 L       O       U       D       E       R      

y      o      u             s     o     u     n     d

the better

Y   O   U        H   E   A   R

Is the W H O L E     W O R L D

a  Stage

or  just

Y     O     U ?

There could be an argument made

either way.     .     .

but before the Tony Awards

are passed out

and you hit all of the

Congratulatory Parties

lets take a look at

T            H            A            T

l    i    f    e:

Sometimes it’s not the

multiple scenes

the various acts

the witty dialogue

 the sensational

musical interludes

or even the much needed intermissions.     .     .

O          F          T          E          N

it’s those momentous

s     o     l     i     l     o     q     u     i     e     s  

that take their direction

from the inner chambers of the

h     e     a     r     t

or even more intimately

the depths of the soul

that makes any ocean appear

s              h               a              l              l              o              w

Sometimes.       .       .

it’s a scene of a blank stage

narrowly shot

ON  P U R P O S E

for effect to illustrate

just how much we block out the

p             e             r             i             p             h             e             r             y   

where some of the best action

a c t u a l l y

takes place;

maybe after all–

we’re all wondering if what happens behind the scenes

is more important–

more interesting

than anything that takes place

front

and

c  e  n  t  e  r;

Shhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.          .          .

Quiet  on  the  Set

The Spotlight is on

and it’s catching little dust particles

floating around in the air

while it seeks you out

front and center

to illuminate

that the best scenes

are those

yet to be acted.          .          .

but don’t discount all of the other previous

p            a            n            o            r            a            m            a            s

e   a   c   h

have advanced the plot

for the most fantastic

A          C          T

of

N     O     W

Quiet   on   the   Set.          .          .

R     E     A     D     Y :

A                 C                 T                 I                 O                 N

(NO DO-OVER’S)