Net Intimacy

There is - I think - a deep human longing for intimacy. However, given today's fractured society where everyone bustles along with ear buds plugged in or cell phones lodged between ear and shoulder, it seems we are even less connected than ever. I noted the look on a passenger in a car the other day as her driver chatted away to someone else while toodling along the highway - it was sad! Families are scattered from Michigan to Maine and Boston to Boca and often neighbors don't even know each others' names.

So we turn to Facebook! I have noted with growing alarm the number of intimate details that have been revealed on people's FB page - arguments with lovers and spouses, pain and grief over life situations and all nature of political, moral and ethical views. Not that it is inappropriate to express one's views, au contraire! I am happy people can express views and have a language for their feelings. What concerns me is that those same people (or me too) might not have an intimate friend to sit beside, or whose shoulder they might weep upon, or with whom they secretly confide a new, budding love. Have we lost that?

There are times the all three of us will be in the home office all working away on our respective computers - and not saying a word to each other! OOOO! The family that 'nets together, gets together! When I notice it (not always because I am focused on work, or my son on his homework), I try to interrupt the separation and bring us all into conversation. But I worry about others, about the strange mixture of aloneness and the loss of boundaries that exposes one's innermost self to the passing public. I fear that my 11 year-old son might grow up thinking that he is having a relationship with someone because they txt each other and that he is expressing himself because he has an array of emoticons! And I wonder if the Amish might not be so strange afer all! Reports show that suicide rates, though quadrupling in our society are lowest and staying put among the Amish and among cultures with lower technology.

And of course, as I write this, I think I had better call a close friend and talk about it!

It's Just Perfect!

Last week I gave a lecture at the Sloan Business School of MIT on the topic of rapid assimilation into a leadership or management position. Throughout the talk I fielded questions on disharmony and disagreements - the thought being that if one has done a good job selecting and interviewing, there should be a lowered probability of problems. At one point I even asked the audience how many people had the experience of being hired for a job and finding out after the fact that either the job had radically changed or that there were some deep dark, and untold secrets that had not been revealed during the interviewing process (nearly all the hands went up).

Ignoring the irrational expectation that a company should reveal its warts prior to your becoming an insider, the really big problem that lies at the base of this discussion is a belief that a perfect world is one in which all live in harmony. As far as I can tell that belief is the single most destructive belief in the world. It certainly has been the source of more marital problems than any other belief! It just isn't how things are. We are each unique in our being and in our understanding of our world view. Just as no two fingerprints are the same, no two personalities are the same. That is the fun part of life. I wouldn't want to marry someone just like me (how boring is that?) and it would almost feeling like talking to myself were I to work with someone just like me.

Believing that we should have no disagreements also stifles creativity. Nothing really creative can come from agreeing with each other. But in disagreeing - and doing so vehemently - we are forced to find a new solution. The more invested we are in the two poles of a disagreement, the greater our creativity has to be. Our inability to engage in disagreements is further exacerbated by our not knowing how to disagree, debate, and find solutions without taking things personally. Our society - the ME society - has taught us that everything is about us. "If you like my clothes, you must like me" translates into "if you don't like my ideas, you must hate me." And now I can tweet you with what I am doing at any given instant. C’mon: Do we really think that our lives are so important that anyone would be interested in knowing that it is time to take a shower or that you are standing in line at the Stop and Shop? I hate to be so blunt, but we need to get over it! Life is not about you – your life is not about you. Life is to be lived in service to and relationship with others. And relationship is all about working out the differences.

I don’t know if my audience heard the message, but the answer to “what if you and your boss disagree?” and “what if the mentor you have is at odds with the person you report to?” was, and still is, forever, “work it out!” That is the stuff of life, and that is just perfect!

True Authority

Pain is - in my mind - the great teacher. I have often said that we learn little or nothing from our successes. What we learn (if you want to call it that) is that whatever we just did worked. But with pain - the kind of real pain that comes at the end of a 2x4 smack across the head, or the kind that comes from deep suffering - with pain comes introspection.

When we suffer, we begin to inspect what just happened. We look at the events leading up to it, the triggers, and we inspect the reaction we had to each. We take things apart and crack the code. We begin to piece the puzzle together in new and different ways. We are opened, at last, to learning because the great teacher - pain - has spoken.

Those who have suffered - the poor, the oppressed, and the true victims of this world - know this lesson and they have a wisdom that speaks volumes of what it means to be human. They can speak with authority about what life is and about what it means to be human. Their authority is never wielded with power and cockiness. And they listen far better. I think perhaps this is why Jesus taught the poor and oppressed, and why Gandhi wove his own clothes and walked with the Untouchables.

The wisdom and character that one receives from suffering and pain is compassion. There is not artificial way to develop compassion. Do Kings and Presidents wield compassion (I am hard-pressed to find one, and alternately nauseated at the media events of former presidents hugging a widow or an appropriately cute child in the hurricane shelter) - no I think that for the most part they have no clue, because the have never suffered great pain. Richard Rohr, my teacher of late, gave a talk once called "The Authority of Those Who Suffer" and I think he nailed it. That is the real authority of "been there, done that" only it's more like "been there, ouch, got that lesson too!"

The Splendid Torch

I listen to the oldies station in Boston, and yesterday I heard one of those place-and-time specific songs that threw me right back to when I was maybe 23! I suddenly was flooded with scenes of what I was doing at that time and the choices I had in front of me. Back then I had all of my body parts in tact, schooling, opportunities and yet... it seems that I lacked the urgency to decide.

Thoreau said once that we live in the "arrogance of a tomorrow." Back in 1972 I thought I had all the time in the world. Youth is like that! I had ideas (like I do now) of writing, something I had always liked, but must have felt that there was mo much more time. I got the chance a couple of years later to co-author with my mentor and remember calling my mom the day the book arrived from the publisher with my name on it. It was too fantastic to be real! That was 1976. I think that is when I caught the bug, but I let it go dormant until just a few years ago - 2006 to be exact, when I started writing again.

We are pushing for a December deadline now - just because we said so! That is how I live now, as the author of my living. It won't happen unless I do my part. I guess the nostalgia induced by that song made me take a long look at what I hadn't done and shoulda, coulda, woulda! I don't normally do that, but I have long held as my theme a passage by GB Shaw called "the Splendid Torch." Sometimes I live it and many times I seem to have forgotten.

Shaw wrote, "This is the true joy in life, the being used for a purpose recognized by yourself as a mighty one; the being a force of nature instead of a feverish, selfish little clod of ailments and grievances complaining that the world will not devote itself to making you happy. [geez I love that phrase!] I want to be thoroughly used up when I die, for the harder I work the more I live. I rejoice in life for its own sake. Life is no "brief candle" for me. It is a sort of splendid torch which I have got hold of for the moment, and I want to make it burn as brightly as possible before handing it on to future generations."

Well George, I think I need to crank up the lumens to catch up for some less-than-bright times. Oh and if you are wondering, 1972 was the year of "Day by Day," "American Pie," and "Roundabout" but the song I heard yesterday, that I used to sing as I shuffled across the campus at Penn State was Bill Withers' "Use Me."

Respect the Net

This past weekend I was part of a spectacular wedding. What made it spectacular was not the dollar amount expended (it was actually done on a shoestring, comparatively), nor was it the stunning beauty of the bride (though in fact she was just that) nor the swarthy handsomeness of the groom (ditto). What made it spectacular was that it involved family and friends in a very unique and special way.

The bride is a Brazilian from a small coastal town an hour’s flight north of Rio called Aracaju. Aside from the fact that she speaks little English and communicates with her new husband through their mutual Spanish and the expressions of her always sparkling eyes, she had come to our area to get married here first so that her citizenship might be made easier; leaving the formal hometown wedding to take place in November. That meant that all of her family who could not make the trip were still back home and would miss the event.

Not if we could help it. So the internet jockeys among our friends who were putting together all the arrangements, arranged for the friends and family to be in one room with a computer hook-up via Skype. We, at the other end had a series of digital cameras and webcams trained on the entire ceremony, and bingo, the world got smaller! The most special part was about three-quarters of the way through the ceremony, they turned up the volume in the Brazilian room and the family spoke to their daughter, granddaughter, and sister. Though most of us present spoke no Portuguese, the international language of joy and pride and tears was more than enough to know what was meant.

Lately I have been ragging on the Twitter-hyped world of obsessed technology. But I lay that all down today because somewhere in Brazil, a grandmother is boasting to her friends about how beautiful her child was walking in the sunlit path toward her new life; how tender the kiss was and how radiant she looked on her first dance – because she was there and saw it all. That was spectacular!

Spiritual Discipline

Spirituality is a discipline not a concept, and of late I have been undisciplined. I have not been attending church services, I have not been praying at the beginning, end and/or the middle of my days, I have not been reading sacred literature. All of these practices and more are the disciplines of my spirituality, and I have become lazy and lethargic. Well it is not that I have become that - it's more like that is who I am and the disciplines take me away from my natural state.
I exercise every morning, and people always say things like, "Oh, you are so disciplined. I wish I could be like that!" That is not, I explain, discipline. I exercise because I have no other choice. Without exercise my left leg, orphaned by an athletic injury that cut off much of the nervous impulses that once went there, starts cramping up around 3PM or so. I HAVE to exercise!
But it appears as though my soul does not go into spasms if I forget to pray one day - and the next - and the next after it. It just withers and atrophies until one day I wake up all cranky without the slightest reason for why. My spirituality takes effort, routine and training. I believe the definition for discipline is a practice that shapes and molds the spirit. Without the regular rigor of those exercises, my soul looses shape - without the slightest hint. It just goes away.
Last night I did a whole mess of sit-ups for the first time in a while and my stomach aches today. It's a good ache, the kind I want to feel again in the pit of my soul.

Father's Day

So I am a few days late but after a recent conversation I have been thinking about what fatherhood really means. And I think we have it backwards a bit. What we really might mean when we honor fathers is not how we fathers as cool and groovy, but perhaps how very honored we are to be "father" to some one.
So for me, I have been thrice honored. The gifts I have been given are beautifully unique and wonderful. My eldest is a blessing of the deepest spiritual kind. She has always been able to put into words those mysteries most of us can only feel. Her gift of speech, her wisdom that has been evident since her childhood and her passion and compassion are wonders to me and I have had the honor of being a steward of her as she grew into what she is today.
My second is spiritual in a different way. She has always had a sixth (and maybe a seventh and eighth) sense about people. She can read a room like a book and can actually see how you are feeling without your ever speaking a word. And her touch - her touch is nothing less than divine healing. She is sensing incarnate and has turned that into a gift she uses to heal any with whom she has contact. But beyond that this one is a peacemaker. She is a truth-teller and an arbiter who cannot be ignored or dismissed. She WILL change you!
And my son, my word, what an honor to be gifted with him! He is sensitive - I don't have any other word for it - he feels things with an amplification that makes him like a receiver. Sometimes I have to be careful what I expose him to because he feels it so deeply. We don't know how he'll turn out (he's only 11) but his gift is already evident. No less articulate than his sisters, this one is destined for another type of greatness.
So this Father's Day I really did get some gifts - the gifts that just keep on giving. You can't get better than that!