Listening to Rain

Thank God for that rain out the window and for Mr. Clemente, who allowed us in ninth grade to listen to it for no reason, in the middle of the day.  That one moment carried me a long way into my life.

I didn't know it then.  At the time, I think, it made me a little nervous--it was too naked, too uncontrolled, too honest.  I thought it odd.  In those days I was watching my step, making sure I knew the rules, keeping things in control.  I wore the same long, pleated skirt every day, blue cardigan sweater, oxford shoes, and carried a brown leather school bag, even while the other girls were wearing makeup, nylons, heels.  I never felt that I fit in. . . . For fear that people would think I was weird--I saw no one around me I could identify with--I tried not to be noticed.  I became a nerd.  And here was Mr. Clemente who asked me to listen to the rain, to connect a sense organ with something natural, neutral, good.  He asked me to become alive.  I was scared, and I loved it.

~Natalie Goldberg

Quiet Time

One of the most important elements of my life is the time that I spend with nothing in particular to do, time that I spend being able to relax and recharge and make myself ready for whatever's coming next. I learned what it's like to live without this luxury when I spent four years in the Army, and those four years taught me to value my quiet time even more. That doesn't mean that I don't push myself--after all, I did two graduate programs at the same school at the same time; I did my doctorate while teaching full-time and coaching; I coached three sports each school year for two years. I am very often very busy--but that doesn't mean that I don't value and take advantage of quiet time.

When I take on a very busy schedule, one of the things that I make sure of is that there will be quiet time eventually in the future. Perhaps it will be a long weekend when I won't have anything planned, or maybe I'll know that spring break is there in the middle of the busy times. As a teacher, I do have an advantage with the breaks that happen in our schedules, but I also know many teachers who fill those breaks up with as many activities as they can. That's something that I simply won't do because I know that my mind and my body need a break--they need time without activity to be able to function better--or in my case, even function at all, it seems, after they've been used intensely for a long while.

Quiet time doesn't have to be time sitting around doing nothing but reading and drinking coffee (though times spent that way are quite wonderful!). Quiet time can be taking a nice long hike or going for a long run; it can be wandering around a mall and looking at things that are new and different; it could be meeting up with a friend for a cup of coffee and a nice long conversation. It has to do with purposely planning not to get stressed, not to fill my time with things that will keep me on edge. I don't try to accomplish anything that has to be of high quality during quiet time--that reach for quality implies judgment, and working to pass judgment, either my own or someone else's, becomes stressful.

One of the reasons that I love winter is because it gives us cozy, intimate moments that make for wonderful quiet time. In the summer I'm on the go much, much more, and when I do stop for a while, the good weather seems to be calling me, putting me on edge, telling me "Do something with me!" In the winter I don't feel that call, and it's much easier to curl up with a book in the lamplight and know that the snow is falling outside, but not having to do anything about it.

I'm thinking about this now because I just read a book about someone who never stopped, who never had down time. I couldn't have lived his life. In my world, taking the time to recharge and re-energize is extremely important, and I know that the quality of my life would suffer dramatically if I didn't build it in, or at least have it to look forward to sometime in the future.

What I Would Tell You

Chances are that I've never met you.  That's okay.  We're both human beings, so I'm familiar with a lot about you--how your body works (except for gender differences, of course, or illnesses we haven't shared), the fact that you have hopes and dreams and fears, the fact that some people are good to you and some people aren't, etc. We have a lot in common.  Of course, not all of our experiences are shared, and there are probably more differences between us than similarities, especially if we start talking about thoughts and emotions. But the basic core fact is still the same--we're both human beings.

As a human being, I'm familiar with many things that make me feel very good. One of those things is to hear certain words from other people. Perhaps they like me. Perhaps they're grateful for something that I've done, or they want to compliment me for something. Maybe they simply say hello like they mean it. In any case, other people's words can be very important. And if I could meet you today, there are some things that I would like to tell you, not just in the hopes of making you feel better, but because I mean them and I want you to hear them.

I would tell you that you're a beautiful person. And that beauty isn't dependent on physical appearance--you're beautiful because you're a spirit going through a human experience and learning about this life and this world.  Your beauty is a simple fact, and I would tell you that.

I would tell you that I appreciate all of the positive things that you do, all of the compliments that you give, all of the encouragement that you share.  Our world definitely and desperately needs more positive influences, and every little bit that you contribute helps the world, even if in the smallest of ways on the smallest of scales.  One snowflake weighs next to nothing, but have you ever seen an avalanche?

I would tell you to hang in there and have hope, no matter how dark things may seem.  Life has a way of challenging us, and sometimes the challenges last longer than we think we can bear and become more difficult than we think we can handle.  But life also has a way of coming around again to the good times, to the easier situations and the pleasant experiences.  Life goes through cycles, and the happy days will come again.

I would also tell you to keep your eyes open and notice things consciously. Don't wait for things to catch your eye before you pay close attention to them--look at them now, appreciate them now, love them now.  Look at your brother or sister or mother or father or best friend or even worst enemy and love them now, even if you don't necessarily express that love because the other person may not be receptive to it.

I would tell you don't wait a single moment more to spread encouragement and compliments and love and even peace and joy.  Not everyone will be ready for it, but these things will always have a positive effect, even if you can't see that effect.  You may plant seeds and never, ever see the resulting plant or fruit or flower, but that's okay, as long as you let go of your need to see results of your actions.

I would tell you to let go of your need to see the results of your actions.  If we're impatient about wanting to see results of all we do or say, life can become a frustrating experience indeed.  Do good in life, and then let it go.  Move on to the next good thing you want to do, and then on to the next.  Sometimes you will know about positive results, but probably more often than not, you won't. That's okay.  That's life.

There is more that I want to tell you, and I will, but I think this is a good start. I'll now pass these words on to you. . . .

Thank you for being here to hear them.

Seeing and Hearing--with the Heart

I've really had to make a lot of effort to see and hear with my heart instead of my eyes and ears and brain, mostly because my mind values evidence--a lot.  I like to know something because I witnesses it with one of my senses, because I've actually experienced it that way, rather than with any feeling. Because we have to face the fact:  when we see and hear with our hearts, we're working more from the realm of feeling than we are from evidence.

And that's okay to me--now.

For years, though, I thought I couldn't trust my heart. I had a bit of a warped way of reading my heart, always with a bit of suspicion that didn't allow me to have a great deal of faith in the ways that I was interpreting what my heart told me or showed me. Because of that lack of faith, my brain always interfered with the messages that my heart was sending me, and when I made decisions, that interference tended to sabotage them and make their results become very unpleasant.

For example, if I really wanted to like someone but my heart told me the person wasn't good for me, my brain would jump right in and come up with three or four reasons why my heart was wrong, and I would try to make that person a part of my life--usually with pretty negative results. But I was also dealing with depression and loneliness, so my brain thought that it needed to try to "fix" those two conditions.

Some people might call this a conflict between the rational/logical tendencies of the mind and the emotional feelings of the heart. I call it not trusting the heart and trying to put the logical/rational side of ourselves in the driver's seat, all the time. I've learned over time that it's important for me to pay close attention to my feelings because--and here's the part that many people will argue with--I can trust my feelings more than I can trust my logic.

And I've learned to do so through experience. I do not by any means mean to diminish the power or strength of the logical/rational mind, and in fact, my feelings and my logic tell me the same thing perhaps 95% of the time. But in those other 5% of the situations in my life, my feelings are always more accurate than my logic.

But here's the hard part: my feelings are more accurate only when I don't allow my logic to interfere with their message.

My heart tells me things by putting my body and mind at ease or by causing my body to tense up and feel uncomfortable. My heart tells me things by letting me feel peace. My heart tells me things by helping me to avoid conflict and find cooperation. My heart isn't the source of "romantic love," as all the songs will tell you--it's the source of unconditional love, which extends to everything in this world. If you'll let it, your heart will change your life by guiding you in ways that your mind can't even imagine.

What Does It Mean to Be Great?

The True Measure of Greatness

Randall S. Weeks

A young student once asked his old teacher, "Teacher, what is the true measure of greatness?"  The teacher looked far away into the mountains and gave the following reply:


Some measure greatness in height and weight, but great people are never so tall as when they stoop to talk to a child or bend their knees to help a hurting friend.

Some measure greatness in physical strength, but great people are never so strong as when they shoulder the burden of the downtrodden stranger.

Some measure greatness in terms of financial gain, but those who show generosity to their family and friends, they are the ones who are truly rich.

Some measure greatness in applause and accolades, but those who seek opportunity to serve in the quiet places of the world, theirs is the higher reward.

Some measure greatness in commitment to achieving in material ways, but those who spur others on to reach their goals is great indeed.

Great people have vision and do not keep the truth to themselves.

Great people have passion for life and are not ashamed to show it.

Great people expect the best from others and give the best of themselves.

Great people know how to work and how to play, how to laugh and how to cry, how to give and how to receive, how to love and how to be loved.


There are many people who are by the world called "great," but those who bear honor in their hearts, who can, in the evening hours, lie upon their beds and peacefully close their eyes, knowing that they have done all that is within their power to live their lives fully and fruitfully, those are truly great people.

My Father-in-Law

My father-in-law just passed on, at the ripe old age of 78, I think.  He was a nice man, a person who was very kind and caring.  He didn't make any big splashes in life--he never was in the public eye, and he never had his fifteen minutes of fame, as far as I know.  But he leaves behind a very loving family who will miss him dearly simply because of the person he was.  He was kind to all, and he really did care about them.

His was the kind of life that I try to remind myself of regularly.  His life was subtle and unspectacular, but it was a life well lived. During his last hours he was still joking with his family and talking about how he was ready to move on--there was no fear of death due to regrets or thoughts of things that he should have done but never did. He was ready. And being that ready is a reflection, I believe, of having lived well, and of having done the best with what he had.

Of course, there were bad times and probably things that he wasn't all that proud of. We all have those. But for the last few years of his life, those most definitely weren't the main focus of his life, for they weren't the norm--they weren't how he lived his life, but just things that happened that he moved on from. By the end, they were completely insignificant, put behind him as they should have been put behind. At the end, his focus was on the people he loved and on gratitude for all that he had had and experienced in life, and thus he was able to move on peacefully.

We can all learn something from this kind of ending. We can see that it's not necessary to have adoring crowds mourning our passing--it's important that the people in our lives feel deeply the loss, but that the mourning be mixed with gratitude that we were actually a loving part of their lives. It's not necessary to have changed the world, but to have contributed in small ways to the lives of the people around us through encouragement, love, and caring is just as important--and even more important for most of us.

He will be missed, of course. But those doing the mourning now are focused more on celebrating the fact that they got to share his life with him than they are on being sad that he's no longer here. When I go, I'd like to think that some people will be reacting the same way about me--and I know that what I do today is going to be the deciding factor if that is to happen, for tomorrow is not guaranteed to me, and I'd better spread love today because tomorrow I may not be around to share the love that is a part of me.

Spread the love now so that you'll be able to end your life well, without fear or regret. Another bonus is that you'll more than likely be able to see the results of the love that you pass on to others--you don't want death to come a-calling before you're able to give the love that's yours to give!

Rest in peace, Conrad.

Time

One of the classes that I'm teaching is currently involved in a series of discussions about time. We're exploring the nature of time--what it is, how it affects us, what life would be like if time acted differently. The discussions are enjoyable and valuable, as students are thinking about something that most of them have never really sat down and considered before. But although I really enjoy the discussions about the nature of time, I'm much more interested in the question of what we do with our time.

Time is a difficult topic to discuss with many people because most of us don't pay a lot of attention to it other than to look at the clock to find out what time it is so that we're not late to something or so that we know how long we have left to be doing something or simply because we're curious. But one of the quotations of the website points out that chunks of time are literally chunks of our lives, and how we spend them determines how we spend our lives.

Personally, I don't want to waste too much time. It's too valuable. I don't want to be that person who never accomplished the things I hope to accomplish simply because I spent so much time planted in front of some screen or doing nothing valuable that I "never had time" to do the things I wanted to do. That said, though, I'm all in favor of rest and relaxation, because I know it's necessary. If I'm not rested, then the "valuable time" that I spend will be much less productive because my brain won't be functioning as well.

I've written a number of books, I've earned four post-graduate degrees, I've spent four years in the Army, and I've lived six years in Europe. I think I've spent my time fairly well. But I also know that in addition to my rest time, I've completely wasted large chunks of time--and if I've been able to do what I've done while wasting a lot of time, then I can't imagine how much time has been wasted by others who still haven't done the things they want to do.

And I truly don't say that as a judgment--it's simply an observation. I think it's important that we all take stock of our time and figure out where it's going, because we're never going to get it back again. How might you use it differently? How might you make time for the things you hope to accomplish? Perhaps making a schedule would help, one that you actually commit yourself to follow. And if you put on that schedule a half an hour or an hour a day to work on the book you want to write or the hobby you want to pursue, then who knows where you'll be after six months or a year?

Time's not really a commodity, but in many ways it resembles one. How you spend it determines the return you get from it. Spend your time wisely and one day you'll be able to look back and see just how much you've done--and just how much you've rested and relaxed, too.