This is not me… yet

It’s a few minutes before 6:00 PM on Monday night. The room is a steamy 96 degrees. Yoga mats are spaced evenly, with the essential sweat towel and water bottle at arms-length. I’m in my element, but for some reason I feel out of sync. I think about an intention for the class, and my mind goes blank… I’ve got nothing. I decide to make this practice all about peace, but I’m conning myself because peace has taken a hiatus. To my left, is a young lady warming up with an impressive inversion, which allows me to feign annoyance while hoping that one day I can replicate the pose in the form of a Facebook selfie taken in some exotic locale.

The music brings us to attention and the tranquil voice of the instructor welcomes us. We are invited to begin in child’s pose. This I can do… knees mat width apart, big toes touching, settling into my space – surely this is where my mind-body mojo will kick in. Without an inkling of warning the toes of my right foot spread wide and seize up in a horrific cramp. Though rational thought has left me, I realize that screaming out guttural obscenities would not be good yoga etiquette. The soft music plays on, the lone voice implores us to bring our questions to our mat and wait patiently for the answers…I however, am waiting patiently for my contorted toes to stop screaming at me. Pain is quickly leading into frustration as the teacher reminds us that this practice is all about what we need – that if our body is telling us to simply lay in savasana for the next hour, that’s perfectly fine. My fight or flight instincts tell me that this is yoga-speak BS, and I just need to power through this. They say that yoga is a judgement free zone but I’m in a full on self-condemnation spiral.  It’s now 6:05 PM.

It’s 1969 and I’m six years old. My mom and dad are devout Christians who have raised their kids to love Jesus. I’m standing where the hallway of my childhood home intersects with my bedroom door when I have an encounter with the divine. God whispers five words of encouragement directly into my spirit. Though the words are sealed and deeply personal, I come back to them often in moments of confusion and doubt.

It’s 6:55 PM on Monday night and the yoga class is winding down to the final savasana. I did what I set out to do. With little emotion or connection, I have endured. My soaked shirt and slippery mat are evidence that I’ve had a good workout. I lay still with my spine pressed to the mat, my palms facing up to receive. My mind’s eye replays the last hour of disjointed breathing and unbalanced poses, while still searching for soulful connection. I see a familiar six year old boy having a conversation with deity – parts and pieces of thoughts and insight try to squeeze through the present filter of guarded intellect.

Faith and Yoga (and golf) are a great paradox to me. They are counterintuitive, defying logic and our best efforts to domesticate them. The more I strive to grow in knowledge and application, the more apt I am to get in my own way. My one dimensional tendencies and ingrained preference for conformity is in direct conflict with the Spirit that prods me out of the mundane and the confines of imagined limitations. In contrast to yoga, the typical bootcamp style gym class allows me room to maneuver. I don’t have to be the most fit, the strongest, the most athletic – I just have to be willing to work harder than anyone else. I was always ‘that kid’ on the sports team whom it was backhandedly said; “he’s not the best athlete, but he’s got a lot of heart…” That’s pretty much been my modus operandi in life – just work harder and put more heart into it! Oddly enough, Jesus and Yoga don’t play by those rules. The more effort you put into searching for yourself, the further from view you become.

It’s 6:58 PM Monday night and I’m still on my back having some sort of existential trip. Time has slowed and years are clipping by my eyes at a rapid pace. I think back over my 48 year spiritual journey since that defining moment in the hallway – when God was big and multi-dimensional, and filled my six year old soul with wonder. Why had I grown up to make God so small, so narrow, so very much in my own likeness?

In 1995 a book was written by Gary Chapman titled The 5 Love Languages. I read the book, studied the book, taught classes on the book, and still reference it’s basic tenets. The premise is that each person has a unique way that we give and receive love. Similar to the way HR offices use personality profiles when hiring; the 5 Love Languages seeks to help people speak the native language of love to those they are in relationship with. The love languages consist of: Words of Affirmation / Acts of Service / Receiving Gifts / Quality Time / Physical Touch. Prior to my mom’s death, my parents were married for 64 years. Though they certainly loved each other, they spoke completely different love languages. Dad’s love language (like mine) is Words of Affirmation. Mom’s love language was Acts of Service. Dad would wax poetic in a letter or card and espouse all the ways in which he loved her. One day, when feeling like his emotional connection was not being reciprocated, he asked mom if she loved him. Mom assured him that she did, but didn’t feel the need to always be saying the words. He pressed her to tell him the reasons why she loved him. She struggled with articulating the why, but reminded him of all the things that she did which demonstrated her love for him. For mom, actions spoke louder than words. For dad, words were a lifeline. Same feelings – different language.

It’s 7:05 PM Monday night and I’m aware that yogis are rolling up their mats and preparing to leave, but I’m content. Thoughts are rushing at me and I’m praying that I’ll remember them long enough to turn them into sentences. I wonder why the world has less intellectual difficulty understanding that each person is unique and must be related to as such – while also insisting that God relate to us all with strict uniformity. We assume that in order to prove our sincerity to God (and win his approval), we must lose our individuality by doing the right things, saying the sanctioned phrases, conforming to an approved belief system, and devoting our time and energy to the status quo. This fear driven dogma manifests itself in two ways – Our inability to accept that God created us in his likeness – therefore our diversity and the way we demonstrate our love is a reflection of His diversity, and ability to love us unconditionally. Our greater terror, is that those who look on us will judge our spiritual journey as lacking and unacceptable to what is required, and what they are willing to offer God. So we speak to each other, and worse yet we speak to God, in a foreign tongue that no one can, or cares to understand.

It’s 1969 and a little boy hears a voice that says to him: “You Have Greatness In You.”  Imagine! My love language is Words of Affirmation, and the One who created me has spoken to me in my native tongue! I’ve spent my entire life wrestling with these words – more honestly, wrestling with the one who spoke them. What do the words really mean? Have I walked in my destiny? How is greatness defined? Were my daughters the manifestation of that greatness? Is my wife the embodiment of the greatness in me? Did my young ego manufacture the encounter? Is confessing the experience nothing more than thinly veiled arrogance? Until this moment, I’ve only given the revelation of these five words to my wife and two daughters. Now I’m stripped bare to the world. Vulnerable, fearful of being misunderstood, that my words intended to express gratitude and encouragement are being spoken in an unknown dialect. But love cannot coexist in the same space as fear. The sacred writings of my tradition tell me that only two things will stand the test of time – My love for the divine, and my love for humanity.  When I was a child, the space that my God resided in was expansive and expressive. As I grew older and supposedly wiser, the space became a box which closed in on me until I had suffocated both God and myself. Though I’m instinctively aware that there is no physical, spiritual, or intellectual space in which I can contain God, my frailty reaches for and finds comfort in boundaries.

Maybe the message is not so complicated. Could it be that God has whispered into the soul of all creation and spoken these very words “You have greatness in you!” Did you hear it long ago and forget what it sounded like? Have the words of the Creator been drowned out by the noise of those who do not speak your native tongue of love? Can you go back and allow yourself to remember? I remember…so I go to my knees and I go to my yoga mat and ask questions, and wait for answers…

Also not me, but I like the possibilities

Dear Amanda and Lauren,

You both come from a long line of strong, courageous, independent women. My mom was one of six daughters who grew up with nothing but love, hard work and desire. They were just children when their right to a future vote became law in 1920. Your mom is the epitome of a fierce woman. She protects and is on the front line for you wherever she sees an injustice. With fierce loyalty she loves me and nurtures my humanity. These women and the women that came before them, were not content to be relegated to the shadows and back rooms of societal norms. In spite of what we see and hear daily, I believe that our social awareness and consciousness is changing for the better. Negativity sells and the provocative and lurid, momentarily feeds our natural voyeurism, but there are glimpses of goodness all around us. As a woman, your struggle to be heard and be valued not only for your outward appearance but for your intellect, continues on. Our institutions of power are still blind to the inbred sexism handed down from generation to generation. In corporate America I work daily with women who are the best and brightest of this generation. Though I often see them in the conference room, I rarely see them in the boardroom. Our churches have a heritage of pseudo-biblical sexism that welcomes a woman to bring a casserole to the next potluck, join the social or flower committee, teach a ladies sunday school class, but locks the sacred doors of leadership.

On the days leading up to this election, women paid homage to Susan B. Anthony by placing their “I voted” sticker on her grave stone. At the age of 17, Susan was collecting anti-slavery petitions. When she was 52 she was arrested for illegally casting her vote. 14 years after her death, the 19th amendment giving women the right to vote, was added to our Constitution. History records that “when she first began campaigning for women’s rights, Anthony was harshly ridiculed and accused of trying to destroy the institution of marriage.”  From our vantage point of hindsight we can only shake our heads at the unconscious and ungodly lunacy of such thought – but one courageous woman from a Quaker family surveyed her world, reckoned that it was unacceptable and said, I will be the change.

Had Hillary Clinton been victorious in her pursuit of the presidency, her acceptance speech would have been symbolic in many ways. The room had a mirrored ceiling, and confetti was to give the appearance of shattered glass being broken, falling to the ground signifying that she had broken through the highest of glass ceilings. Little girls and women worldwide would now know that nothing was out of their reach. The returns did not go as expected, the speech was never given, the confetti never fell, the ceiling remained, and many women grieved.

My daughters, do not grieve, but be emboldened. You cannot look to others to change your world. The change resides within each of us. As parents we must raise our sons to value all people and to see and respect women for their intrinsic value to the very fabric of life. We must instill in our daughters that they can indeed overcome our societal baggage, can change hearts and minds, can break down walls and even crash glass ceilings. Greatness lives in each of you, and you must refuse to take an intellectual, physical, or emotional backseat to anyone or any institution. It grieves me that the price you will continue to pay is to be misunderstood, criticized, and accused of desecrating hallowed ground – but follow the direction of your heart and be undeterred. Know that I love you both with all that I am, and that I will stand with you wherever this path leads.

To Trenton – My Son – Now you are a dad…. this very second and forever more, you’re a dad! There is no circumstance or event or obstacle that will ever change that fact. Already you feel the weight that comes with that responsibility. The need to protect, fight for, provide for – is instinctive and primal. This little being has life, it has your DNA, it has the samplings of your very best traits and some of your not so great traits… You will soon rub Lauren’s belly and put your ear there to listen to a heartbeat, and feel the sudden kick of a tiny little foot, letting you know “I’m here, I can hear you, and I love you already”. Everything has changed, nothing will ever be the same again, and you would have it no other way. Your child is a blessing from God, of the very best kind. You have participated in the divine – you have created something where there was nothing- and in your very likeness. You will be forever proud of this child, and this child will forever carry your name and your heart. You work hard, you play hard, you are well loved – you wife finds comfort in your arms, your friends find laughter in your voice. You have a servant’s heart. You are blessed. pas

To Lauren – Forever my baby girl – You carry a life within you. Another heartbeat in sync with yours, getting sustenance through it’s connection to you. 10 little fingers and toes, maybe a wrinkled up nose and blonde wisps of hair. This child is, and will be your everything. This child will make you smile, make you cry, make you bellylaugh, make you roll your eyes, make you catch your breath, make you sigh in relief, make you shake your fist, make you clap your hands, make you fully human, make you complete. You ARE blessed. You are recognized for your professional accomplishments. You find rest and security in a beautiful home. Your husband calls you friend and lover. Your family rallies to your side. But your child… your child will see your eyes first, will reach for you instinctually, will sleep to the cadence of your heartbeat, be warmed by your tender snuggles. You are a mom – now and forevermore – with all the rights and responsibilities that come with that name. Mom – speak it, embrace it, delight in it –  you are blessed by it. pas

To my Grandbaby – We’ve never met but we speak daily. Even now I speak words of encouragement, and health, and great accomplishment over you. The cosmos catches my words and directs them to your tiny ears. Your head bends toward the echo of my voice. You ARE somebody, you are special, you will make a difference in the world, you will be wise and you will be strong, in your body and in your soul. You will be blessed and you will be a blessing to others. Your grand-mommy and I, your auntie Amanda, your uncle Jay, your grandma and grandpa Watters, will be here for you. Whenever you need a safe place, a warm embrace, an understanding ear, a firm piece of advice, a new outfit, or just a friend, you can always count on us. Your mom and dad are awesome and you’re very lucky that they picked you to create. They will cherish you and bring out the very best in you. They will sacrifice to provide you with the very best that life has to offer, and when you are older, you will recognize and know that you are loved. Be blessed.  pas

To Amanda – You are my firstborn – the one who came into this world with the mindset and sensibilities of an adult. The best combination of lace and fire. Soft features and blunt tongue. You are our go-to girl. With ever present maternal instincts, you protect your sister. With fierce loyalty you support your husband with devotion and pride. You share your insights on life and culture with your parents and keep us relevant. You share your insecurities and vulnerability with us and keep us mindful that you are mortal. You are blessed in your home, in your marriage, in your finances, in your business. You have keen insight into people and into circumstances. You are stronger than you know or even willing to admit. You are fierce in your determination, talented beyond your life experiences, consummate homemaker, successful entrepreneur,  soul mate, and the best mom that the best pup could ever hope to have. You will not fear vulnerability you will not listen to the nay-sayers. You will walk in your light, in your creativity, in your truth and in the end be content that you have lived fully. You are blessed. pas

To Jay – My son – The thinker, the thoughtful, the cerebral, the over achiever. You are content with yourself. Happiest when you can come back to the simple joy of home, wife, pup. Your confident and sometimes temperamental facade belie the sensitive, giving, nurturer  that lives so close to the surface waiting for an opportune moment to express itself. From an outsider’s perspective, success has come easy for you. But only you know the work, the sweat, the anguish, the self-doubt, the living up to expectations, the fear of disappointing, the applause of the cheering, and the deafening sound of defeat. Your life experiences have made you old in wisdom beyond your years. You measure twice and cut once. You count the cost before you leap. But in your structure and methodology you have found a space to build a solid home. With a foundation of mutual trust, and walls of support that say you’re safe here, with a door that says, go explore, be creative, fly high – I’ll be here for you. Your ability to realize in yourself and others the best expression of themselves, is a gift. You are blessed. pas

To Finley – The very definition and living embodiment of unconditional love. She holds no grudges, has no unforgiveness in her heart. Her entire existence is simply to bring those she encounters, joy. Oh that we could all live that way. You are such a blessing.  pas

To Jackie – The love of my life, the food for my soul, my biggest fan,  my reference point for hope in the world. Being a mom has been your greatest joy and being a grandmommy has stretched your heart to the point of bursting. What you lacked as a child, you have given to your children. What was given to you conditionally, you have offered freely. What you were never able to feel, you have made others be able to feel deeply. You are an overcomer, a fighter, a survivor, a beauty, a tender heart. You know the pain of rejection and loss, and it has scarred you, but it does not define you. You are brave and very courageous, even at your most vulnerable moments. You walk in truth and ask for nothing back but to be loved whole heartedly. WE are your family, we love you for being you, and for your ability to love us just as we are. You are blessed, and we are blessed by you. pas