This Too Shall Pass

It had been a long day and we were getting a little edgy.  I had to laugh, though, when I saw my ten-year-old son had taped a sign on his shirt that read: 

“Danger, Tired Kid!!!”

I thought that was a pretty good idea, to broadcast a warning when you’re feeling irritable.  Such a caution could work both ways:  to advise others to tread lightly, and to counsel yourself to think before you act.  Then again, humor goes a long way in easing tension.

The danger sign disappeared from my son’s T-shirt by the next morning.  Storms eventually pass, often leaving behind an overarching rainbow.  This heavenly light appears after the air is cleared by a storm.  If, however, violent winds stir up more debris than the rain washes away, then the iridescent colors cannot follow—not in the air, not in the soul.  This tempering of the tempest is aided by thinking before you act.

Often, allowing passions to cool resolves the issue that created the squall. The storm blows over.  [For reasons I won’t mention, I wish I would have thought of this last week.] 

A year before Abraham Lincoln was elected President, he gave a speech which he concluded with the following story:

It is said an Eastern monarch once charged his wise men to invent him a sentence, to be ever in view, and which should be true and appropriate in all times and situations.  They presented him the words: “And this, too, shall pass away.”  How much it expresses!  How chastening in the hour of pride!  How consoling in the depths of affliction!

When life has you in turmoil, let it pass.  And if it helps, tape a sign to your shirt cautioning people to beware your stormy mood.

Abraham Lincoln

(1809 – 1865)

Lincoln is famous for his speeches, his humor, his magnanimity and his diplomacy. 

·         Through his speeches, he gave people a vision—“That this nation, under God, shall have a new birth of freedom -- and that government of the people, by the people, for the people, shall not perish from the earth.”

·         Through his humor he created a bond of trust and broke down walls.

·         Through his magnanimity, he used commendation (attributing the best motives to his opponents) rather than confrontation, to point out the similarities between his aims and those of his detractors.

·         Through his diplomacy he emancipated the slaves and held the United States together.

I’d like to take a closer look at the last point: diplomacy.  In 1860, Abraham Lincoln won his party’s convention—but not until the third round of voting.  He recognized both the strength of his Republican opponents and his personal lack of experience in the White House, so he filled his cabinet with strong leaders within his party.  These men were highly experienced—enough experienced, in fact, to think they could run things better than he could.  Lincoln used diplomacy to earn their respect and keep them all working together during our nation’s most fiery crisis.

Lincoln achieved similar diplomatic success in keeping the slave states bordering the Union from seceding.  These border states were critical to the Union’s  success.  Washington D.C. would have been in the middle of hostile territory without Maryland; the South would have owned the crucial artery of the Ohio River if Kentucky were on its side.  All during the war, Lincoln had to find a delicate balance between appeasing the abolitionists of the North and the slaveholders of the border states. 

One of Lincoln's most frustrating challenges was finding a general for the Union Army who could fight a winning campaign.  His first choice, McClellan, had everything going for him with one drawback.  He didn’t want to fight.  Lincoln studied war strategy and gave McClellan, and his other generals, a lot of good advice.  Often his advice was ignored and then Lincoln would have to take the heat.  Lincoln wrote many letters with rebukes, none of which were sent to their intended recipients.  Writing the letters was enough to vent his frustrations so he didn’t have to harm his working relationships.  What he did send were letters that diplomatically expressed his concerns and requests.

As the Civil War drew to a close, instead of self-congratulations, Lincoln asked for an honest self-analysis of both sides.  He issued a call for healing and reconciliation "With malice toward none, with charity for all."  

Lincoln closed his “This too shall pass” speech with this wish:

               

Let us hope . . . that by the best cultivation of the physical world,
beneath and around us;

and the intellectual and moral world within us,

we shall secure . . . happiness, whose course shall be onward and upward,

and which, while the earth endures, shall not pass away.

Sources:

Abraham Lincoln, Speech before the Wisconsin State Agricultural Society, September 30, 1859. http://showcase.netins.net/web/creative/lincoln/speeches/fair.htm

A. Lincoln by Ronald C. White, 2010.
The following works by James McPherson:  Abraham Lincoln; Tried by War:  Abraham Lincoln as Commander-in-Chief;
                 Battle Cry of Freedom.
Abraham Lincoln by Wilbur F. Gordy, 1917.
If you can tell, I have a passion for learning about Lincoln and the Civil War.

Creating Systems of Order

There is a significant percentage of people who wake up eager to face the new day.  They throw back their covers and bounce out of bed, excited to welcome the adventures the day holds for them.  It is estimated that something like 90% of this segment of the population is under the age of four.

As a nurse, I used to voluntarily work the night shift because I’d rather work all night than get up at 5:00 in the morning for the day shift.  I had such an aversion to starting a new day in the early morning hours, that I could only face hauling myself out of bed if I could “return from whence I came” and take a nap right after my morning shower (which accounts for why I needed two hours to get ready for work).

               

                Then a few years back I experienced a paradigm shift when I realized that “early birds” don’t necessarily HAVE to be born—they can be made.  It created a dramatic change in my life to evolve from a night owl to an early bird.  I used to think the hours from 11 p.m. to 1 a.m. were my most productive hours of the day, but I realized it was not a good thing for my family so I decided to go to bed earlier.  To make up for losing those “productive hours” I was determined to get up at 5 a.m. so I could work uninterrupted from 5 – 7 in the morning.  Then I made a profound discovery: all those years I spent as a “productive” night owl, I’d been missing out on something even better.  The early morning hours are inspirational.  I learned that with a prayer and paper & pen I could receive answers that hugely affected my life in very positive ways. 

                In my last blog entry I wrote about the power of environments and relationships.  I want to follow that up with thoughts on creating effective systems to add structure to our environment. 

The way I begin my day is one of the most important systems I’ve developed. It starts with going to bed at a reasonable hour.  My system involves the use of a little alarm clock and a lot of motivation to get up so I can have those precious inspirational hours to work on my projects.  It includes exercising and envisioning how my day will unfold.

That’s just one example of a system. We use systems for everything we do whether by plan or default.  If something isn’t working, take a look at the system behind it and adjust it. What are the systems you use to arrive on time, interact well with others, nourish your family, clean your home, find joy? Creating systems that work for you can be a very powerful concept when you use it.

Marla Cilley

a.k.a. FlyLady

                Marla Cilley allowed her perfectionism to paralyze her efforts to keep an orderly home.  (When a person feels like they don’t have the time to get the job done right, it can be overwhelming to face the job at all.)  She found the “Slob Sisters” book, Side-tracked Home Executive and was inspired to create systems of order in her home.  Along the way, she learned a few things and offered tips to anyone interested. Her handle “Fly” originated from her love of flyfishing, but it was suggested by one of the women who follows her system that FLY really stands for “Finally Loving Yourself.”

                Marla mentors through Flylady.net where she posts resources (and daily reminders) on building effective and do-able systems.  She starts with daily tasks that can be completed in fifteen minutes.  Then she adds on weekly routines and monthly zones.  She encourages people to overcome procrastination, de-clutter, and fix finances. She is an advocate of healthy hearts through active play and nutritious meals. She understands that all this energy needs to come from somewhere so teaches to take time out to pamper yourself, enjoy family fun and renew your spirit.  Check her out at http://www.flylady.net/

                In an article called “Why Flylady is great for actors,” Karen Kohlhaas wrote:

Meret Oppenheim, a mother of two teenagers . . . told me about a website that was changing her life.  She said something like: “I think you’ll like this.  It seems to be about housecleaning but it’s much more than that.  I’m taking care of my daily life in ways I’ve never done before and I can’t believe it.”  . . .  Flylady's principles can work brilliantly for artists of all kinds because they are about handling unstructured time.

In other words, what works brilliantly is to create systems of order.

Sources:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/FlyLady

Act As If

I was dismayed to find my (then) four-year-old daughter’s lovely dresses piled in a heap on the floor of her closet.  This was not the result of carelessness but a pointed demonstration of where her priorities lay. Just a few feet above the dresses, she had carefully hung her assortment of swimming suits, evenly spaced to fully occupy the prime real estate of her closet. 

Had she been left to her own resources, I can guess how she would have preferred to spend her Sunday afternoons.  Down came the swimsuits and back went the dresses. Thanks to our family culture of weekly church attendance and the welcoming friends and teachers we meet there, now there’s nowhere else she’d rather be.  My daughter came to love going to church so much that when she happens to feel sick on Saturday nights, she prays hard to feel well enough to go to church the next day.  It seems her prayers are always answered.

Our relationships and environment have a huge influence on how we live our lives.  Our success in reaching our goals has everything to do with how effectively we arrange our environment and recruit people to support us in our efforts.

I am very inspired by a woman I learned about while reading Influencer:  The Power to Change Anything by Kerry Patterson et al.  Her story follows:

Mimi Silbert

(1942 –      )

“My job is to be the chief believer, to believe in them when they don’t believe in themselves,” says Mimi Silbert about the 1,500 ex-convicts who currently reside at one of her Delancey Street communities.  Over the past forty years, she has transformed 18,000 felons into upstanding contributors to society.

There are only two requirements for becoming a resident (slash-employee-in-training) of Mimi’s Delancey Street Foundation: to have hit bottom and to be willing to change. 

Mimi sees the people (commonly labeled as thieves, addicts, even murderers) she brings to her Delancey Street Foundation not as a “menace to society” but people who only need an opportunity to learn how to care about something besides themselves.  She teaches them to care by giving them real responsibilities, not only for themselves but for the success of other people.

Mimi creates a highly structured environment that holds people accountable for their actions.  As soon as her residents learn personal accountability, they are given responsibility to train someone else.  They become “team players” and build something bigger than themselves.

Delancey Street accepts no government funding and seeks no philanthropic aid.  Mimi has no staff other than her residents.   Though almost none of them had previously held a skilled job for longer than three months, they learn to be self-supporting and live off the profits of the businesses operated by the Delancey Street Foundation.

Half the people who dine at the Delancey Street Restaurant don’t realize it is fully staffed by ex-convicts until they read the back of their menu.  By then they’ve been so favorably impressed by the dignified maitre d’ and their gracious waiter, that they are sure their servers are exceptions. 

They aren’t. 

Mimi’s environment and the coaching relationships it fosters create a place where people who have been labeled “human garbage” can find their talents and soul.

We’re lucky in the fact that our people have hit bottom.

We ‘act as if’ we are all the things we want to become.

We ‘act as if’ we’re decent and caring and bright and talented.

And we eventually become those thing.

Mimi Silbert

Her story can influence everyone’s story when we learn to ‘act as if’ and build environments and relationships that help us find the “Gem in the Geode” of our lives.

Sources:

"The Mimi Silbert Story:  Re-cycling ex-cons, addicts and prostitutes,"  by Jerr Boschee & Syl Jones (http://www.socialent.org/pdfs/MimiSilbertStory.pdf)
See also http://www.delanceystreetfoundation.org/president.php to find several more links to televised spotlights and articles about Mimi Silbert.

Emerald Gems

Kitchen chairs turned upside down, cereal in the fridge and milk in the cupboard, a remnant of green fabric caught in a crack, a trail of glitter leading to a pot o’ gold.  Have you ever spotted any of these tell-tale signs of a leprechaun intrusion?  They’ve been known to drop into households in the wee hours of St. Patrick’s Day.

Though I’ve never had a leprechaun come to my house, I’m quite familiar with their distant cousins, the brownies.  When I was a young child, I loved brownie visits because I’d wake up to find a nice clean house.  When I was in second grade, I joined the Girl Scout Brownies and learned the secret of WHOO the brownies were.  I delighted in taking my turn to play “brownie.” I got up in the night, crept around as stealthily as a bulldozer and picked up the house.  It was the only time cleaning was any fun.  Happily, the tradition carries on with my daughter.

The magical thinking of childhood creates a magic all its own.  The willingness to believe that good things will happen is more than just charming.  It casts a vision for little miracles to occur.  My dad grew up in the depression and he noticed that as soon as his older brothers stopped believing in Santa, Santa stopped leaving presents for them.  So he was determined to keep believing and he kept receiving.  The irony of children believing in the magic of holidays is their belief creates the magic.

Too bad my kids didn’t have the expectation of delightful leprechaun pranks pulled on St. Patty’s day.  Maybe it’s not too late. J

Maewyn Succat

(385 – 461 A.D.)

Maewyn was born and raised on a windswept British Isle.  When he was 16 years old, he was kidnapped by pirates and carried away to a distant island where he was sold as a slave.  He worked night and day as a shepherd.  His long hours tending the sheep gave him lots of time to think.  He found comfort in contemplating the life of the Good Shepherd, Jesus Christ. 

After six years of slavery, he found an opportunity to escape and he took it. He traveled by ship to Gaul (now France).  There he devoted himself to the ministry of the Roman Catholic Church and eventually became a Priest.

And then the dreams came.

Maewyn dreamed that the people of the island where he had been enslaved were reaching out to him for help.  He knew in his heart what help they needed and he knew that he must return and teach them about Jesus.  So he found himself en route to the island where he would, once again, be a servant.  Only this time his master was One he felt privileged to serve. 

Although Maewyn wasn’t the first Christian missionary on the emerald isle, he was the most successful.  He converted nobles who were influential in spreading the gospel message to all the people. 

Many years later, Maewyn Succat was sainted, becoming Saint Patrick.  Irish people still celebrate his gift to the Emerald Isle—the Christian faith. 

Source: familyfunshop.com/saintpatricksday.htm

Joy in the Journey

One afternoon, I got a phone call that launched me on a life-changing quest.  A publisher called to tell me he wanted to publish the book I was writing about my great-great-grandmother’s journey with the Willie Handcart Company.  I had sent his company a query letter not two days before so I calculated he must have called me the minute he got my submission.  He asked how long it would take me to finish writing my novelized biography.  My head was spinning; judging by my progress, I might be able to complete it in six months. Before I gave my answer he asked me, “Can you have it done by the end of the month?”

I heard myself say “Yes.”

That was the moment I joined my great-great-grandmother on her journey to the Promised Land. 

For three weeks, I was on the trail with the family of Margery Bain Smith.  My initial excitement mirrored their joyful beginning.  Midway through, my plodding progress reminded me of their tedious trek across the plains.  When I reached their life-and-death moments, I struggled to create the passion and power those episodes warranted.   

I learned the pioneer journey was both a physical and a spiritual one.  Their physical journey planted their descendants’ roots west of the Rockies.  Their spiritual journey showed us how highly to value our faith.  I saw how faith still works miracles, sensing angelic help: some seen (my husband and sisters) and some unseen.
          I made the deadline and submitted my book in June of 2006.  I reached the border of the Promised Land, but like the Children of Israel, I wouldn’t be entering the “land of milk and honey” to enjoy the fruits of my labors—at least not yet.  The publisher’s financial backer decided not to fund my book, but it didn’t really bother me.  I had made the trek and learned lessons that enriched my life. 

People kept asking me about my book and, after four years of “wandering in the wilderness,” I felt it was time to pursue publishing it again.  I received so much inspiration writing it; I know it wasn't just for my personal benefit.  It is a powerful, true story that needs to be told.  I’m completing a final revision and love the story now more than ever. 
           Through telling their story, I hope to link my generation to theirs.  No story could have more heartache. Yet no journey could be more joyful.
          

Margery Bain Smith

(1804 – 1889)

Margery Smith faced a difficult choice. She was a widowed mother of six; one daughter was recovering from tuberculosis, another from Scarlet Fever, her youngest child was crippled and she, herself, was suffering from dysentery.  The Rocky Mountains loomed before her and her only adult son was on the other side of them.  She had to make a decision that would be a matter of life and death for herself and her children.

Three months earlier, Margery and her family left their Scottish homeland to journey to the seat of their newfound religion.  Now she found herself in the Nebraska Territory with no easy options.  She and her traveling companions, the Willie Handcart Company, were warned that if they pushed west so late in the season, they would surely face winter storms crossing the Rockies.  Yet if they stayed in Nebraska, there was no way the five-hundred people in their group could be provided food and shelter.  The Company as a whole had to head west, but some of the individual families were choosing to stay behind. What would Margery do?

She lived by the motto, “God helps those who help themselves,” and she knew she had done everything in her power to go where God had called her to go.  She decided to trust in the Lord and she left the last refuge of civilization behind her, pulling all her worldly belongings in a hastily-made-handcart.

Their trail was plagued by trials:

·         A buffalo stampede scattered their draft oxen, never to be recovered.

·         The food they expected to find at Fort Laramie was not there.

·         They were on quarter rations when an early winter storm blasted the region.

·         They endured a forced march over Rocky Ridge which many of their company never recovered from.

But Margery lived by another motto, also:

I will not dwell upon the hardships we endured,

Nor the hunger and cold,

But I like to tell of the goodness of God unto us.

The moment Brigham Young received word there were Mormon immigrants on the plains, he organized a relief effort.  Hundreds of teams were mustered to carry food and supplies to the beleaguered pioneers.  But for many of them, the help came too late.

Margery's physical reserve was utterly depleted after carrying her six-year-old son over Rocky Ridge. A few days later, she was trodding in the deep snow and knew she would not make it to camp that night.  She sent her children on ahead of her so they would not have to witness her demise.  But her middle daughter, Mary, would not leave her side. 

Ahead on the trail, her children were fascinated by the approach of a rescue wagon.  It was the first one they’d seen with a single yoke of oxen.  In their pitiful plight they made a game of it, wishing that the man in the wagon would be their older brother, Robert.  As the wagon drew closer, the driver stared at them and then called, “Whoa!” to his team.  The voice brought home the impossibly perfect fact that they were standing in the presence of their brother!  They tearfully greeted each other and soon tied the handcart to the wagon. But where, Robert wanted to know, were Mother and Mary?  They headed east to find them. 

From a distance, they saw Mary kneeling by a body stretched out on the snow.  “Too late?” the family asked themselves, “was help coming too late to save our dear Mother?”

Robert pulled the wagon to a halt beside his weary mother.  He found Mary trying to convince Margery that Robert had come to rescue them.  Margery couldn’t believe it until she was swept up into his arms.  Margery said that she couldn’t have been happier to be welcomed into the Kingdom of Heaven.

Margery promised God that if she survived the trek she would never complain again.  She lived to keep that promise, even though she later became blind.

Rather than becoming bitter and losing faith in the God they were counting on to make the winter mild, these pioneers focused on the goodness of the Lord.  Instead of teaching their children that God didn’t answer their prayers to protect them from harm, they told the story of how greatly they were blessed to be rescued.  They showed us how to do hard things and be grateful for the blessings received through the challenge.  The way they pulled through their trials on the trail over 150 years ago still affects us today. 

This picture of Margery Bain Smith and her children was taken around twenty years after their trek.  (Her youngest son was deceased.)

Source:  "The Tired Mother," Improvement Era, July 1919 by Betsey Smith Goodwin.

Rule of Spirit

I was a wild filly.  I can see it in my childhood photos--my long, lanky limbs, my dark mane that flung wildly when I tossed my head, my untamed energy and my unbridled passion.

“This is too hard for you,” my mother tried to reason with me.  My little hands had barely shed their baby fat, yet I was determined to learn how to knit.  My mom worked and worked with me but I could not create the right tension on the yarn.  Before long, the knitting needles went flying in opposite directions.  *Click* and there you have a snapshot of one of my youthful tantrums.

Some ten years later, I smugly congratulated myself on how easily I had overcome my childhood fits of temper. I no longer was tempted to hurl the object of my frustration across the room.  I even learned how to knit.  For my first project since sending my tools flying at age four, I chose a sweater with a lovely lacework design in the bodice. When the clerk told me my chosen knitting project was too hard for me, I thanked her and left the store.  Later I snuck back when she wasn’t working, hid my beginner’s status from the clerk on duty, and confidently walked out of the store with my challenging pattern in hand.  With mentoring, I produced a beautiful sweater.  Life was good.

Another ten years passed and I discovered the temper that had plagued my early years had not been cured but had only lain dormant awaiting the proper provocation:  having another four-year-old in the house. Happily, once my kids outgrew their toddlerhood I was no longer tempted to display fits of temper, but I knew enough not to take pride in the fact.  By then I was convinced that my milder outlook had more to do with my kids’ personal growth than my own.

Now the cycle begins again as our household hits the teen years.

He that is slow to anger is better than the mighty;

And he that ruleth his spirit than he that taketh a city.

Proverbs 16:32

Acquiring the ability to "rule my spirit" has been a lifelong quest.  Only recently have I begun to rule my spirit through being Ruled by the Spirit. I’ve learned that to “Bridle your passions,” one must allow the Lord to take the reins to guide through life’s difficulties.  Accepting the bridle means submitting my will to His.  The trouble is that pride gets in the way so sometimes that's a very hard task. But little by ever-so-little, the harnessed energy moves me towards greater happiness.

Helen Keller & Anne Sullivan

1886 – 1936

(From the date Anne entered Helen’s life until Anne’s death,

they remained constant companions.)

Helen Keller was a frustrated child trapped in her private world without words.  Helen didn’t have the ability to communicate, other than the hand signals she devised as a desperate attempt to let her wants be known.   Often she would throw tantrums so her family caved to her demands in an effort to prevent her from falling into fits of rage.

Enter the mentor.

When Anne Sullivan arrived at Ivy Green, she recognized the root of Helen’s frustrations lay not in her blindness but in her isolation.  She immediately began to teach Helen by signing letters in her hands, but since the seven-year-old girl had no concept of words, they meant nothing to her.  Helen became angry and locked Anne in her room. 

 Anne quickly saw that Helen’s lack of discipline made her unreachable, essentially putting a lock on her private prison.  Anne insisted on taming the wild child.  What looked to Helen’s parents like restriction of her freedom to express her needs was really the key to unlock her prison.  Before Anne could teach Helen the power of communication, she had to teach her discipline.  The young Helen bristled at the call to obedience, but in time she submitted to her instructor and her prison of isolation was unlocked.

Once Helen was open to being lead by her mentor, she experienced her landmark epiphany:  connecting the letters w-a-t-e-r to the flowing of water.  Her life would never be the same.  Now she had vision and aim, beginning with the insatiable drive to learn the word for everything in her life.  Through words, her life’s horizons expanded to take in the whole world. 

Anne tried to begin instructing Helen through words, but the key to freeing Helen was not signing letters.  It was in taming her spirit through discipline.  A profound expression of how deeply Helen valued Anne’s key to opening the door to her world is found in her answer to a simple question.  When asked what her favorite word was, Helen spelled out, “t-e-a-c-h-e-r.” 

The best and most beautiful things in the world cannot be seen or even touched.

They must be felt with the heart.

Helen Keller

Gifts

We had been at it for months.  What started out as an exciting quest had grown to become a tedious search.  One evening as my family was leaving for another hunt for a new home, my then-seven-year-old-son drew a picture of a stick figure family standing in front of a house. His commentary of our home search came across loud and clear:  there was a big, fat X over the picture with the words “NO NO NO” written underneath.  It seemed we had exhausted more than just the MLS listings.

About that time, my sister-in-law came to our rescue.  She went for a walk in our neighborhood and found the house that would soon become our home.  It was only two blocks away from where we'd been living.  This wasn’t the first time she'd helped us make the perfect match.  She was also instrumental in getting my husband and I together in the first place.

I did a little exercise for the fun of it, contemplating how I came to find the things I value most in life.  So many times, I’m given precisely what I need exactly when I need it by means of another person.  These gifts have come in many forms:  besides my home and my husband, I’ve been given words of comfort, encouraging smiles, inspiring examples, and opportunities to serve that have helped me find a whole new facet of my life. 

God often works through people to inspire and bless His children—a touch of the Divine clothed in humanity’s hands and hearts.

Another way of putting that is found in the lyrics of a song my sister sent me (yes, another gift). 
Click on the link to hear it performed:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UqL2MZaor4k

Geodes by Carrie Newcomer

No, you can’t always tell one from another.

And it’s best not to judge a book by it’s tattered cover.

I have found when I tried or looked deeper inside.

What appears unadorned might be wondrously formed.

You can’t always tell but sometimes you just know.

Around here we throw geodes in our gardens.

They’re as common as the rain or corn silk in July.

Unpretentious browns and grays the stain of Indiana clay.

They’re what’s left of shallow seas, glacial rock and mystery,

And inside there shines a secret bright as promise.

All these things that we call familiar

Are just miracles clothed in the commonplace.

And you’ll see if you try in the next stranger’s eyes,

That God walks 'round in muddy boots, sometimes rags and that’s the truth,

You can’t always tell but sometimes you just know.

Some say geodes were made from pockets of tears,

Trapped away in small places for years upon years.

Pressed down and transformed, 'til the true self was born, . . .  

We have come to believe there’s hidden good in common things.

You can’t always tell but sometimes you just know.

Carrie Newcomer

(1958 -      )

Carrie Newcomer is deep.  She has a rich, deep alto voice. She is deeply rooted in her Quaker faith.  And she reaches deep into the soul.

An article written about her by Megan Quinn in the Daily Camera begins, “Each day, singer Carrie Newcomer tries to see the sacred in the ordinary.”  Judging by the lyrics she writes, she is accomplishing this effort.  A fan commented on that article that she is very giving, donating a portion of her proceeds to soup kitchens, thus feeding not only the soul but the bodies of people in need.

Newcomer has released a dozen albums since her first solo came out in 1991.  Before that, she sang with the group Stone Soup and has two albums with them.  She was invited by the cultural outreach division of the American Embassy in India to represent the U.S. in 2009, touring India for a month.  While there, she saw that love and hope bridge cultural differences.

Quoting from the biography on her website,

About her impressions of India, Newcomer says, “Music can be a language deeper than words.  I love our differences.  Cultures are rich and what makes each culture unique is to be celebrated, but I was powerfully moved by what we share as a human family.”

Carrie Newcomer is a folk artist who combines her faith with her music. She makes universal truths meaningful by attaching them to personal stories. 

Concluding, again quoting from the bio on her website,

The Minneapolis City Pages wrote, “Newcomer’s musing is deeply introspective, but she offers it with a poet’s sense of nuance and a folkie’s common touch, turning philosophical theory into the stuff of people’s daily lives.”

Source: http://www.carrienewcomer.com/

A Botched Job

I sure botched that one.  Here I was just trying to be helpful and I found myself in the middle of something, only having made things worse.  The details aren’t important because it’s more of a recurring pattern than an isolated event.

It seems like life gives us plenty of opportunities to miscommunicate, miscalculate and mismanage.  In fact, with all the opportunities for mistakes it’s a wonder things go right as often as they do!

I learned something important while researching the story of the quintessential “botched job” written below.  The person responsible for the misfortune had a desire to do the best possible work under difficult circumstances.  I find this strangely comforting.  People generally have good intentions, even when the outcome of their efforts is undesirable.

It reminds me of a phenomenon I learned about recently called “the fundamental attribution error.”  This is the term for the tendency people have to misattribute mistakes as character deficits rather than consider the situational factors that led to the poor outcome.  In other words, if someone messes up people readily jump to the conclusion that the person responsible wasn’t careful enough.  Studies have shown that the reality is that more often than not, the person was doing the best they could under the circumstances they had to work with. 

This is scientific support of the maxim to give people the benefit of the doubt.

Life is the only art that we are required to practice without preparation,

and without being allowed the preliminary trials,

the failures and botches, that are essential for training.

Lewis Mumford

Ironically, in regards to the blunder I mentioned earlier, I made the “attribution error” myself.  I assumed the people involved would blame me, but I learned after apologizing that they were very understanding. It is sweet to be on the receiving end of the counsel to “Be kind, for everyone you meet is fighting a hard battle.” (Attributed to Philo, and Plato, and John Watson, and Ian MacLaren, and famously quoted by Marjorie Hinckley—I don’t want to be guilty of a misattribution error in print, you see.)

Sir Thomas Bouch

(1822 – 1880)

Thomas Bouch had a genius for design and efficiency.  He gained renown in the emerging railway business early in his career by designing the world’s first roll-on-roll-off ferry in 1850.  Up until that time, travel came to a screeching halt whenever trains approached a wide body of water in order to transfer from track to ferry and then back to the railroad track.  His ferry system streamlined the transfer.

Bouch further distinguished himself as a brilliant railway engineer.  His bridge designs were elegant, simple structures that were both attractive and economical.  He had the reputation for being able to “thread his lines between unlikely places.” http://www.kosmoid.net/technology/bouch   He was so dedicated to his profession that at times he charged only one-fifth of the going rate for his services.  Between that and his economical designs, even areas with small railway traffic could afford to construct his railways and bridges. 

The crowning jewel of Bouch’s achievements would also become his greatest sorrow:  the Tay Bridge near Dundee, Scotland. At the time of its construction, it was the longest bridge in the world.  There were major setbacks; the worst of which was the discovery that the riverbed was not as solid as surveyors predicted so the center section had to be redesigned.  Despite this fact, it was ready for use within a few weeks of the planned completion date in 1878.  The Tay Bridge was considered a triumph of engineering.  People marveled at the ability to cross the Tay estuary in only eight minutes—an hour less than it took to make the journey by ferry. Bouch was showered with accolades.  Queen Victoria even traveled to ride his bridge and knighted him Sir Thomas.

The Tay Bridge outside of Dundee, Scotland (before the disaster).

Then disaster struck.  Less than twenty months after the bridge was opened for travel, it collapsed during a violent windstorm.  Unfortunately, a train was crossing the bridge at the time and nearly four-score people died.  There was an inquiry and it was determined that the bridge had been poorly maintained and built of sub-standard materials.  And poorly designed.  Bouch was devastated and died of illness a year after the inquiry pointed the finger of blame at him.

After the Tay Bridge disaster, the saying went abroad that “Don’t botch the job” came from the botched Bouch Bridge.  When I looked up the definition of “botch” in my 1828 Webster’s Dictionary, I was surprised to find how the word was defined.  Long before the Bouch Bridge disaster, the word meant “ill-finished work in mending; a part added clumsily.”  Though Bouch’s name became associated with “botch,” it was not the source of the word.  It seems this major botch was really an effort to do the best job under difficult circumstances.  The important thing is lessons were learned from the errors and people still remember Bouch for his contributions, and not just for his one big failure.

Creating "En-theos-iasm"

“That guy doesn’t know what he’s talking about,” she said. “He calls Pachelbel a composer and it’s the name of a piece of music.” I listened to my co-worker assert this repeatedly before I finally tentatively suggested that Pachelbel was, in fact, a composer. But my mealy-mouthed contradiction wasn’t very convincing. If she and I were to debate the question, I had nothing but the facts on my side, for she had all the confidence and gift of persuasion.

Before resolving the matter, let's meditate on the music.  There’s a difference between listening to Pachelbel’s classic Canon in D and working through the piece, playing the notes and feeling your soul swell with the sweet strains.  When you join hands with the composer to create your interpretation of his work, it touches you deeply.  You own a piece of it, along with the gift of sharing its soul-swelling joy with others.

The same thing can happen with classic books. A powerful thing happened to me when I began crafting words together to tell about the books I was reading.  This opened me up to receive inspiration and a connection with my Creator that made me excited about life, filled with enthusiasm.

The root word of enthusiasm is theos, or God. As I join hands with the Creator, seeking to step outside myself and give to others in meaningful ways, I feel joyful and capable. I love life; I love the people around me. I value their gifts and mine. I don’t feel small because others around me are great. I can see the genius in all of us.  I’ve even gained the confidence I need to convince a skeptic that Pachelbel is a composer!

“As you take the normal opportunities of your daily life

and create something of beauty and helpfulness,

you improve not only the world around you but also the world within you.”  Dieter F Uchtdorf

To hear a powerfully presented two-minute summary of President Uchtdorf's message, click on this link: 
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RhLlnq5yY7k
  

Johann Pachelbel

(1653 – 1706)

Johann Pachelbel was born in Germany to a family of humble means.  Early in life, his father recognized his musical talent so arranged for his tutelage by the organist of his local church in Nuremberg.  His abilities propelled him past class boundaries, so he was able to study in a school normally reserved for only the upper-class.  Although he was admitted, his father still had to pay the bills and he eventually ran out of resources and was forced to withdraw. 

This disappointment served to open the door to other opportunities.  Pachelbel soon found another school administration that was so impressed with him that they waived his fees, allowing him to attend on scholarship.  He eventually learned both German and Italian musical techniques which enriched the development of his own personal style.

Pachelbel became a church organist, often composing a new piece of music every week.  He was also an educator and mentored many musicians, including the Bach family.  He tutored Johann Sebastian Bach’s older brother, Johann Christoph. In the Bach household there was a coveted piece of Pachelbel's music which Christoph forbade his younger brother from playing.  That ban effectively worked its magic to impel the young Johann Sebastian to study Pachelbel’s style.  He snuck a peek at the manuscript by moonlight every night for six months.

Pachelbel’s most famous work, Canon in D, has inspired scores of artists.  His influence is easily detected in many modern works of music and film.  He has been called by some “the intellectual progenitor of Bach” and by others “the father of modern music.”  His influence is expansive, crossing continents and centuries, but it also touches us personally as we take joy in his “soul-swelling strains.”

Link to Canon in D:  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hOA-2hl1Vbc