Category: Love, Friendship, Family

Jesse’s Adventure Begins

Jesse and I shared a few beers at the Red Carpet Club at LAX last night, then he got on his flight toward Hanoi, and I got on my flight to San Francisco. I really enjoyed myself, but must admit saying goodbye was tough.

My kids are all adventurers. Seems that each year, one or more of them is embarking on an adventure of some sort to one corner of the world or another. I love that about my children – that they are so confident and adventurous, that they embrace learning and becoming, that they face the whole world with a smiling spirit and outstretched arms.

Whenever each of them leaves on an adventure of one sort or another, the father in me always worries – how can I not? I always mourn just a little for my loss as they venture away from me. Most of all, the pride inside of me always overflows at the adventure they’re becoming, and the way they embrace life.

But this one’s a little different for me. Seems that each of these emotions I’ve come to expect is particularly amplified this time. Maybe it’s the combination of distance and time – a year’s a very long time! But fortunately, all the emotions are amplified, so with the greater worry and loss comes even greater excitement and pride.

I watched him walk away down the concourse toward his gate. Such a strong and confident man, showing little fear as he approaches the portal to the next him. I suppose I’ll carry that image with me for a long time – the image of him reaching the end of the concourse, and turning that corner out of my sight.

I must confess that one of the “amplifiers” this time is news we just received last week from some dear friends of many decades. They recently lost their son, who was not much older than Jesse. Of course, all across the world – every hour of every day – folks are leaving this life and moving on. But when it’s someone you know, and have known for so many years, who loses a grown child, it opens a dark and fearful place inside your soul. I think it’s natural to want to cling just a little more tightly to your own kids – to hug them a little closer – to worry just a little more.

So the image of Jesse turning the corner will stay with me, and I’ll worry just a little more than I usually do (though my kids would say that’s not possible…) The loss I feel already at having him so far away from me is strong and probably won’t get any better soon. But I’ll focus more keenly on the adventure he’s having, and I’ll look forward to emails and skype time.

And when I finally see him again, I’ve no doubt I’ll feel an amplified sense of wholeness when I hug him and feel he’s safe and close.

Cool October Drizzle

Having a bald head has its pros and cons.

It’s nice in the summer, as there’s no heavy mop of hair hindering the cooling ability that the head offers. It’s also nice at the end of a shower – one quick pass with the towel and my “hair” is dry!

Generally, cold and rain fall into the “con” category. That same heat-transfer capability that’s so nice in the summer is a real problem in the winter – I’ve got an arsenal of different thicknesses of beanies that I wear all winter to replace the nice insulating hair that left me some time ago.

Every now and then, though, the cold rain feels pretty good on my bald head. This morning was one of those occasions. We’ve been without rain for so long, and celebrating the chilly drops dancing on my head as I walked this morning was a pleasant reminder that autumn is rushing down on top of us. The sense of impending change that permeates the air in the fall exhilerates me.

I’m sure if I had to endure cool drizzle more than occasionally it would start to weigh on me. Enjoying the rain this morning, I thought of my daughter, as she considers graduate school in Seattle. I spent a desperate lifetime in Seattle one November and December, and don’t think I’d do well with the dark drizzle. But then, if you know it’s just the way things are, maybe you get used to it? I’d worry about her for sure…

It continues to amaze me – even after all these years of living – how much the person that we are is affected by the weather around us. One more of those “place” things that I love to think about…

The Balance of Beauty, Ugly, and Utility

I design and build gardens for people. It is a dream job in many ways – the ability to use as your palate beautiful plants that will evolve and grow each year.

As a result of this vocation, people often want to talk about plants, and get ideas on which plants are the “best”. Of course, as with most things, “it depends”, right?

Each plant brings its own particular beauty, expressed in many different ways. Some plants compliment one another, some will always clash. Each has its own “hardiness” for cold, or heat, or sunlight, or shade, or soil, or moisture. And of course, they each have their own “ugliness” too.

Right now I am looking out my office window at the purple Delosperma that lies drooping over my rock walls. It looks brown and dead – starkly unattractive really as the Colorado springtime is exploding in the garden around it. However, I know that by the time that June gets here, those ugly masses of drooping brown will have transformed once again into beautiful bright drapes of purple and green dressing-up the granite walls.

So, I accept this little period of ugly, knowing the beauty that is to come once again.

Our relationships with others are like this too I think. Perfection is pretty hard to find in anything – particularly in people it seems. I know that the gap between me and anything approaching perfection is too great a distance to see on the clearest of days. So, the people who are my friends, family, lovers, or whatever, must have decided that even though I have my seasons of ugly, the beauty and utility that I offer makes the ugly season worth overlooking. No accounting for that…

What is it that makes this possible – this ability to overlook the ugly season that a person displays in order to see the beauty when that season is upon us? I have to say that when I am gardening, there is truly some level of connection that I have with the plants that I put into the ground. I know that plant, and I know its many phases, and I know what it is finicky about, and I know that if I treat it right, and place it right, and assure proper care, that it will – once again – wash the garden with the beauty that I know so well.

My friends are like that too I think. It is that connection that you develop with a person that allows you to rest assured that you understand the balance of beauty and ugly and utility in this person well enough to deal with them, and to help them grow as they are meant to grow. The tighter and closer the connection is, the more in harmony we become with each other, and the thing that once seemed only ugly, can now become balance and harmony.

Giving or Trading?

Where is the line between “giving” and “service”?

On one level, they are the same. We “give” our service to others. But then, when I am paid to do a job, then I am providing service as well. But is it still “giving”, or is it just “providing”?

The difference is in what comes back it seems to me. Whenever I “give” something with some hope or expectation of something in return, then it is no longer giving, is it? Now it is just bartering or trading for services.

And what is in our nature I wonder? Are we put together to be able to truly give?

Evidence would suggest that we are not put together this way – that we are generally inclined to be looking for every opportunity to get more in return than we have to give. Yet, my experience is that the greatest grace that a person can experience comes as part of a true and selfless giving process.

Nothing can fill a heart like the simple and pure harmony that rings from within the soul when pure service is given as a gift to another person.

I know this to be true, and I suspect that most people know this to be true, yet we do it so rarely. This doesn’t make sense, and makes me wonder about the way we are put together. Why do we continue to pursue the bartering and the trading, when they render so little to our soul, yet we rarely allow ourselves the luxury of the things that render so much to our soul?