Contemplating Mortality and the Role of Prayer

Today, the sun rose on the Anacostia River just as it has from the beginnings of the sun and the river occupying the same general area of space and time.

Sunrise on the Anacostia

Like every other sunrise before it, observed from this spot in space and time, this one was a unique gift that I had the privilege of witnessing.  If I am granted the gift of living to be one hundred and twenty years old, I will have been gifted the opportunity to witness an sunrise that is similar to this one, but totally unique 43.380 times.  That is really not that many sunrises, and I've expended over a quarter of them already.

I'm thinking about mortality because today I worked my way through most of the TED Talks that have been categorized as being related to death, and I received a request for prayer for a friend of mine's father who will be facing multiple bypass surgery tomorrow.

As for my choice to listen to educated people speak on the topic of death, I really have no real explanation other than I'm beginning at the front of the alphabetical index of TED Talks and listening to all of the talks that have an audio only recording in a given area that strikes my curiosity.  I've worked my way up to the letter 'D' so far and this is the next topic to draw my attention. The talks, like all TED Talks I've listened to so far are mostly interesting and always thought provoking. The general theme is one of finding a better way of accepting the normal process of mortality and a number of arguments about why and how this can be approached.

The prayer request, given the potential seriousness of the procedure that my friend's father is facing tomorrow seemed to mesh with the overall theme.  Honestly, I don't know how to respond to these calls for supernatural intervention when they come across social media like Facebook. I can't bring myself to push the "like" radio button, but I do feel compelled to reach out to my friend or acquaintance in response to their request that I entreat a higher power in support of their request for help. It's at this point, the point of wanting to respond, but not quite knowing what to say that I become a bit stuck.

Today, the request said, "Friend, my daddy will have multiple bypass a 6 tomorrow morning. Please pray for him and my mom!"  This request as of this writing has gotten 63 "likes" and 60 "comments."  One of the comments is mine, and I certainly didn't hit the "like" radio button, so I don't quite know what to make of those numbers. I ended up replying with "Done" although that leaves me a little cold and distant.

Part of my problem is that I have come to believe that prayer (and meditation) really represents an effort to grow closer to a higher power whose will is shaping the broad trends of our lives. I believe that the journey we are all called to in one fashion or the other is bringing our own will into alignment with the will of the greater power that surrounds us and having the strength and knowledge to glimpse and carry out the purpose that is laid before us by doing the next right thing moment by moment. I believe that seeking to understand the will of the greater power and having the strength and fortitude to play my small role in in the creation of that purpose is about the only thing that I should ask of that power. Anything more is probably an attempt to manifest my own will on a situation that far exceeds my ability to shape. This belief that prayer for knowledge and strength only is in conflict with my own will to shelter my friend for the pain of possible unwanted outcomes.  That's why I don't know how to respond. I don't know how to say that surrender is the only way I've found effective a coping with the fear and anxiety that this sort of situation can generate.

My friend, their daddy, and their mom are in my thoughts tonight. I want very fervently for things to work out successfully tomorrow in that operating room, and Mr. C to be granted some more sunrises to witness. I hope that I'm granted a sunrise or two in order to bear witness to the outcome. I hope that whatever may come finds my friend surrounded by love because that will make whatever comes better.

WTF is Going On?

Today was an unsettled day for me.  It's not surprising given the fact that I've been on the road since last Thursday, and tomorrow will be a solid week of relatively nomadic existence.  Nevertheless, it's a bit disconcerting falling back into old habits that I had thought I gotten under wraps.

One of the reasons that I found the pastime of walking so compelling is that I felt it would force me to take life a little slower.  The very nature of the activity would make living in the moment or the surrounding one meter of space easier to accomplish.  One of the characteristics of my mental activity before commencing the practice of walking was to imagine what was going to happen far too far into the future.  In order to deal with that level of delusion and really fantasy, I was hatching schemes upon schemes in a futile attempt to manage the outcomes of whatever damn fool thing my imagination could invent.  That got pretty tiring.

Today, I found myself at various times during the day falling back into that habit of getting to far ahead of myself.  On my evening walk, which I really didn't want to do in the first place, I discovered that I did not have my identification on me.  I felt pretty certain that I'd had it when I struck out on my nocturnal pedestrianism, but halfway through I knew for sure I didn't have it.

For the next three miles I both retraced my steps and let my imagination roam relatively free about what had happened to my ID, what I was going to have to do next to get a new one, what personal financial risks had been incurred.  At the same time, I was searching the ground pretty diligently and imagining that I might know where I'd dropped it.  Of course that was about two miles from where I thought I'd discovered it missing.  This led to a level of impatience and imagination about how I'd feel if I found it in the location or how I'd cope with the mile remaining back to my rooms if I did not find it.  All the while, I was trying to keep my eyes and my mind in the present one meter to make sure I didn't miss the ID just in case I'd dropped it someplace else.

Turns out that it was in my work pants.

All of that anxiety meant nothing except it basically consumed three miles and almost 50 minutes of an activity designed to provide a relief from imagined future anxiety.  Crazy really.

It wasn't all undisciplined worrying.  I did notice that the Eastern Shore Trail sign that had been knocked over by a car several months ago at the intersection near my hotel had been restored to an upright and repaired position.

Restored Eastern Shore Trail Kiosk

This was the very first location that I'd encountered a sign (and the concept) of the Eastern Shore Trail which runs down the eastern shore of Mobile Bay.  This sign, or at least one like it in this location, is what prompted me to search for documentation on the trail and has led to some truly rewarding time in this little narrow section of Alabama.

Seeing this sign restored was like getting one of my guideposts or navigation markers back.  It was a waypoint that I'd not appreciated enough until it was damaged and then subsequently brought back into my consciousness by its renewal.

I've had an amazing last year, and this trail because of this sign has played a major role in bringing the fulfillment of the year to fruition.  

I should probably take my own advice, heed the rhythm of the walk, meet life as it unfolds and not a moment sooner, and stop fretting over just WTF is going on.

I Won't Do That...or a Commitment to the Unlikely

I was looking down at my feet this morning after sitting down from my walk, and I noticed that I had done something that I suspect was a social faux pas that I promised all powers in the universe that I would never commit myself.  What was this heinous offense, you may ask.  As I glanced down at the source of my bipedal locomotion, I realized that I had become the slightly doughy 40'ish man that wore black 3/4 calf socks with athletic shoes and shorts.  This development was shocking enough that if begged to be captured for all posterity.  Here is what I saw.

White athletic kicks, 3/4 calf black socks, and by the hair of my legs you can easily see I am wearing this horrid combination with shorts.  It's either that, or I don't have any pants on which is a situation to terrifying to imagine, but since I mentioned it, you'll find it mostly impossible to keep the thought from crossing your mind...I hope.

About the only redeeming feature of this sad state of affairs is the fact that the socks are pushed down a bit and not hiked up in the fashion that has become associated with this terrible habit by males of my particular vintage.

This situation is something I promised myself that, "I won't do that."  Clearly that was a commitment to the unlikely.  Thinking about the sox, shoes and shorts resulted in thoughts of other things that I had decided as a youth not to do.  There were very good reasons this morning for becoming the cliche that I'd vowed to avoid, and the practicality of the decision outweighed any embarrassment I might have felt on this issue 25 or 30 years ago.  I'd like to think that I'd "grown up" a little since I first made the unlikely pledge.

Sadly, embarrassment and anxiety caused me to not do a number of other things in my youth that I probably have grown out of as well.  If I had things to do all over again, I would probably do things just a bit differently.  Here's a short list for those youths that might come across these musings for your consideration.

1.  I would have asked more girls to dance.  It would not matter to me if they said no because they were popular and I was not.  I'll never know the opportunities that I may have let slip through my fingers for fear (yes, fear) of being told, "No."

2.  I would have been friendlier with my peers who participated in the Future Farmers of America.  There are number of reasons for both my unwarranted rudeness as well as a number of reasons why it was an utterly undefendable stance.  This topic is probably worth a whole post on its own, so remind me about down the road and I'll share my insights.

3.  I would have been more daring in my choice of clothing, and I'm not just talking about wearing black socks with shorts and sneakers.  Nothing says confident like a bright pink tie and a royal blue shirt, and I allowed myself to discover this eye catching combination a bit earlier in my outfitting "career."

4.  Did I mention that I would have asked more girls to dance, and by more I mean all of them.  I would have asked them all to hold my hand and walk in the rain as well.  I had nothing to lose and so much to gain.

It's not too late for me yet (as evidenced by my nod to practicality exhibited in the picture above), but the runway is likely considerably shorter than it was 30 years ago.  Don't do what I did.  Live boldly, and don't take yourself too seriously.  That said, tomorrow I think I'll make a little extra effort to remember to bring the long pants.

The Next Right Thing

I caught myself overstating a slight case of anxiety by projecting forward and saying that I "regretted even signing up" for an event that is not even scheduled to take place until October of this year.  The event is one of those long distance team relays where 12 or so individuals run or jog relatively short distances (5-10 miles each leg) for 28-36 hours and cover a seemingly impossible trek of 200 miles or so on foot.  The event that I signed up for with 11 other people from work is the Bourbon Chase that meanders through the horse country of Kentucky.  A quick ramble through the website indicates that this event will probably be a pretty good time.  At the very least, there will be no excuse to not absolutely soak in the beautiful weather and scenery in one of the more lush and verdant areas of the country.

The context of my overstatement of regret is only marginally important.  I was trying to empathize with someone who was expressing some level of anxiety about the prep work associated with the run and the way that some members of the team seemed to be taking what should be a relatively relaxed period of camaraderie (in my august opinion, of course) and turning it into a slightly more competitive event.  The downside of my overstatement of future regret is that it was really not the truth.  It's impossible to prophylactically regret something.  That kind of thinking just defies logic.  When I signed up for the event, I remember considering whether I really wanted to participate or not and coming to the conclusion that on this occasion, I was going to be the "Yes Man."

I should have told her the truth which was that I too was experiencing a degree of discomfort and anxiety about how the run-up to the event was being managed, but that I really do believe that the event shows a high degree of promise in turning into a really good time.  That answer would have had the advantage of being aligned with the truth, and instead of feeding into both of our collective states of unrest, it stood a chance of calming both of our nerves and letting us get on about the business of preparing in the best way that we know how to prepare.

Walk the Path that is Laid in front of You

I should have known better, and I should have stuck with an assessment of the situation that was closer to the truth of the matter.  I hang out with a group of people who are in the habit of reminding each other that often when facing and uncertain outcome, which as things turn out is really all of the time, one of the best ways to deal with uncertainty is to just "Do the next right thing."

Doing the next right thing is a really pragmatic philosophy. It does not require that I do the best thing or even pick the least worst option.  What it does require is that I shrink my time horizon to a short enough future interval that the next right thing manifests itself as the obvious.  It's easy to write but takes a great deal of discipline to accomplish.  I failed to follow this sage advice when dealing with something as trivial as a race (a fun one at that) that is eight weeks in the future.  I fell back into old habits and borrowed not only imagined trouble from the future, but I also returned with a regret for something that has not and may not ever occur.  It's the height of ego to do something like that, and predictably, that thinking (and verbalizing an untruth) fed the negative energy of anxiety happening in the present.

A better solution would have been to shrink my time horizon to as short as the next breath, take that breath, and reevaluate the situation.  I didn't have to do anything or say anything or be anything (even empathetic) at all.  All the situation required, in that moment, was for me to be present, breath, and listen.

This same group of folks also is fond of reminding me that "Lessons have a tendency of being repeated until they are learned."  I suspect that this observation has been proven out in this situation today.  More practice and less exercise (particularly of my voice) is what's called for more often than not, and so I'll try (perhaps a little more deliberately) tomorrow.

Speaking of practice, I'm grateful for Osteria 777 (a restaurant with an ironic name...a very First World Problem) and the lovely evening they delivered for me and my bride of fourteen years (marriage...not age you dirty pervs).