This harsh and splendid land

With snow-covered rock mountains, cold crystal streams,

Deep forests of cypress, juniper, and ash

Is as much my body as what you see before you here.

I cannot be separated form this or from you.

Our many hearts have only a single beat.

pete

I moved the bird feeder to a tree just off the deck at the back of our house this week. Now, as I sit outside reading or writing I have a front row seat for the various going’s on that take place as tiny feathered visitors come seeking a perch from which to feed. I keep my children’s Golden Book of Birds with me whenever I’m on the back deck, so that I can identify who is who in this little universe of birds.

I watched this week as a House Sparrow would feed and dart to a branch where its four chicks sat in line. The sparrow would drop a seed in a noisy mouth and then flit back to the feeder for more. It repeated this routine over and over until they were all fed. When I looked up from my work they were gone.

This week I have seen a pair of Downey Woodpeckers, various Finches, a Cardinal, a pair of Mourning Doves, an Oriole, and a half dozen more of these wonderful creatures. Some are fearless and fly to the feeder without hesitation; but always keeping an eye on me. Others are shy, moving from branch to branch; but unable to work up the courage to expose themselves at the feeder with me in sight.

All these birds live close to the earth. They move from tree to tree, tree to bush, they work the lawn for insects. They have families of chicks, and their nests are everywhere including the eaves of our house. They compete for spots at the feeder. They make beautiful sounds with their voices. They move in groups. They’re nervous when in the open.

Somehow they remind me of most of us and how we are in the world.

Yesterday, I looked up… and there, high in the bright June sky, was a red-tailed hawk. It hovered far above these tiny birds and this little feeder. It didn’t flap its wings earnestly, it glided effortlessly. It didn’t move from branch to branch nervously; but soared from the top of our mountain to the winding river in one long swoop. It covered miles without moving its wings. It was alone, majestic; riding on invisible thermals that helped it rise above the noise of the birds chirping at each other as they competed at the feeder.

I love the chatty birds that congregate at the feeder, and yet I yearn to glide effortlessly, like the hawk, far above the drama of the little ones below.

pete

Good morning. It’s good to be home on this Father’s Day with my girls, and it’s an honor to spend some time with all of you today in the house of our Lord.

At the end of the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus closes by saying, “Whoever hears these words of mine, and does them, shall be likened to a wise man who built his house upon a rock: and the rain descended, and the floods came, and the winds blew, and beat upon that house, and it fell not, for it was founded upon a rock.” [Matthew 7: 24-25]

Here at Apostolic, you are blessed to worship in a house that has been founded on the rock of Jesus Christ, our Lord and Savior. But it is also built on another rock, another foundation – and that rock is Bishop Arthur Brazier. In forty-eight years, he has built this congregation from just a few hundred to more than 20,000 strong – a congregation that, because of his leadership, has braved the fierce winds and heavy rains of violence and poverty; joblessness and hopelessness. Because of his work and his ministry, there are more graduates and fewer gang members in the neighborhoods surrounding this church. There are more homes and fewer homeless. There is more community and less chaos because Bishop Brazier continued the march for justice that he began by Dr. King’s side all those years ago. He is the reason this house has stood tall for half a century. And on this Father’s Day, it must make him proud to know that the man now charged with keeping its foundation strong is his son and your new pastor, Reverend Byron Brazier.

Of all the rocks upon which we build our lives, we are reminded today that family is the most important. And we are called to recognize and honor how critical every father is to that foundation. They are teachers and coaches. They are mentors and role models. They are examples of success and the men who constantly push us toward it.

But if we are honest with ourselves, we’ll admit that what too many fathers also are is missing – missing from too many lives and too many homes. They have abandoned their responsibilities, acting like boys instead of men. And the foundations of our families are weaker because of it.

You and I know how true this is in the African-American community. We know that more than half of all black children live in single-parent households, a number that has doubled – doubled – since we were children. We know the statistics – that children who grow up without a father are five times more likely to live in poverty and commit crime; nine times more likely to drop out of schools and twenty times more likely to end up in prison. They are more likely to have behavioral problems, or run away from home, or become teenage parents themselves. And the foundations of our community are weaker because of it.

How many times in the last year has this city lost a child at the hands of another child? How many times have our hearts stopped in the middle of the night with the sound of a gunshot or a siren? How many teenagers have we seen hanging around on street corners when they should be sitting in a classroom? How many are sitting in prison when they should be working, or at least looking for a job? How many in this generation are we willing to lose to poverty or violence or addiction? How many?

Yes, we need more cops on the street. Yes, we need fewer guns in the hands of people who shouldn’t have them. Yes, we need more money for our schools, and more outstanding teachers in the classroom, and more afterschool programs for our children. Yes, we need more jobs and more job training and more opportunity in our communities.

But we also need families to raise our children. We need fathers to realize that responsibility does not end at conception. We need them to realize that what makes you a man is not the ability to have a child – it’s the courage to raise one.

We need to help all the mothers out there who are raising these kids by themselves; the mothers who drop them off at school, go to work, pick up them up in the afternoon, work another shift, get dinner, make lunches, pay the bills, fix the house, and all the other things it takes both parents to do. So many of these women are doing a heroic job, but they need support. They need another parent. Their children need another parent. That’s what keeps their foundation strong. It’s what keeps the foundation of our country strong.

I know what it means to have an absent father, although my circumstances weren’t as tough as they are for many young people today. Even though my father left us when I was two years old, and I only knew him from the letters he wrote and the stories that my family told, I was luckier than most. I grew up in Hawaii, and had two wonderful grandparents from Kansas who poured everything they had into helping my mother raise my sister and me – who worked with her to teach us about love and respect and the obligations we have to one another. I screwed up more often than I should’ve, but I got plenty of second chances. And even though we didn’t have a lot of money, scholarships gave me the opportunity to go to some of the best schools in the country. A lot of kids don’t get these chances today. There is no margin for error in their lives. So my own story is different in that way.

Still, I know the toll that being a single parent took on my mother – how she struggled at times to the pay bills; to give us the things that other kids had; to play all the roles that both parents are supposed to play. And I know the toll it took on me. So I resolved many years ago that it was my obligation to break the cycle – that if I could be anything in life, I would be a good father to my girls; that if I could give them anything, I would give them that rock – that foundation – on which to build their lives. And that would be the greatest gift I could offer.

I say this knowing that I have been an imperfect father – knowing that I have made mistakes and will continue to make more; wishing that I could be home for my girls and my wife more than I am right now. I say this knowing all of these things because even as we are imperfect, even as we face difficult circumstances, there are still certain lessons we must strive to live and learn as fathers – whether we are black or white; rich or poor; from the South Side or the wealthiest suburb.

The first is setting an example of excellence for our children – because if we want to set high expectations for them, we’ve got to set high expectations for ourselves. It’s great if you have a job; it’s even better if you have a college degree. It’s a wonderful thing if you are married and living in a home with your children, but don’t just sit in the house and watch “SportsCenter” all weekend long. That’s why so many children are growing up in front of the television. As fathers and parents, we’ve got to spend more time with them, and help them with their homework, and replace the video game or the remote control with a book once in awhile. That’s how we build that foundation.

We know that education is everything to our children’s future. We know that they will no longer just compete for good jobs with children from Indiana, but children from India and China and all over the world. We know the work and the studying and the level of education that requires.

You know, sometimes I’ll go to an eighth-grade graduation and there’s all that pomp and circumstance and gowns and flowers. And I think to myself, it’s just eighth grade. To really compete, they need to graduate high school, and then they need to graduate college, and they probably need a graduate degree too. An eighth-grade education doesn’t cut it today. Let’s give them a handshake and tell them to get their butts back in the library!

It’s up to us – as fathers and parents – to instill this ethic of excellence in our children. It’s up to us to say to our daughters, don’t ever let images on TV tell you what you are worth, because I expect you to dream without limit and reach for those goals. It’s up to us to tell our sons, those songs on the radio may glorify violence, but in my house we live glory to achievement, self respect, and hard work. It’s up to us to set these high expectations. And that means meeting those expectations ourselves. That means setting examples of excellence in our own lives.

The second thing we need to do as fathers is pass along the value of empathy to our children. Not sympathy, but empathy – the ability to stand in somebody else’s shoes; to look at the world through their eyes. Sometimes it’s so easy to get caught up in “us,” that we forget about our obligations to one another. There’s a culture in our society that says remembering these obligations is somehow soft – that we can’t show weakness, and so therefore we can’t show kindness.

But our young boys and girls see that. They see when you are ignoring or mistreating your wife. They see when you are inconsiderate at home; or when you are distant; or when you are thinking only of yourself. And so it’s no surprise when we see that behavior in our schools or on our streets. That’s why we pass on the values of empathy and kindness to our children by living them. We need to show our kids that you’re not strong by putting other people down – you’re strong by lifting them up. That’s our responsibility as fathers.

And by the way – it’s a responsibility that also extends to Washington. Because if fathers are doing their part; if they’re taking our responsibilities seriously to be there for their children, and set high expectations for them, and instill in them a sense of excellence and empathy, then our government should meet them halfway.

We should be making it easier for fathers who make responsible choices and harder for those who avoid them. We should get rid of the financial penalties we impose on married couples right now, and start making sure that every dime of child support goes directly to helping children instead of some bureaucrat. We should reward fathers who pay that child support with job training and job opportunities and a larger Earned Income Tax Credit that can help them pay the bills. We should expand programs where registered nurses visit expectant and new mothers and help them learn how to care for themselves before the baby is born and what to do after – programs that have helped increase father involvement, women’s employment, and children’s readiness for school. We should help these new families care for their children by expanding maternity and paternity leave, and we should guarantee every worker more paid sick leave so they can stay home to take care of their child without losing their income.

We should take all of these steps to build a strong foundation for our children. But we should also know that even if we do; even if we meet our obligations as fathers and parents; even if Washington does its part too, we will still face difficult challenges in our lives. There will still be days of struggle and heartache. The rains will still come and the winds will still blow.

And that is why the final lesson we must learn as fathers is also the greatest gift we can pass on to our children – and that is the gift of hope.

I’m not talking about an idle hope that’s little more than blind optimism or willful ignorance of the problems we face. I’m talking about hope as that spirit inside us that insists, despite all evidence to the contrary, that something better is waiting for us if we’re willing to work for it and fight for it. If we are willing to believe.

I was answering questions at a town hall meeting in Wisconsin the other day and a young man raised his hand, and I figured he’d ask about college tuition or energy or maybe the war in Iraq. But instead he looked at me very seriously and he asked, “What does life mean to you?”

Now, I have to admit that I wasn’t quite prepared for that one. I think I stammered for a little bit, but then I stopped and gave it some thought, and I said this:

When I was a young man, I thought life was all about me – how do I make my way in the world, and how do I become successful and how do I get the things that I want.

But now, my life revolves around my two little girls. And what I think about is what kind of world I’m leaving them. Are they living in a county where there’s a huge gap between a few who are wealthy and a whole bunch of people who are struggling every day? Are they living in a county that is still divided by race? A country where, because they’re girls, they don’t have as much opportunity as boys do? Are they living in a country where we are hated around the world because we don’t cooperate effectively with other nations? Are they living a world that is in grave danger because of what we’ve done to its climate?

And what I’ve realized is that life doesn’t count for much unless you’re willing to do your small part to leave our children – all of our children – a better world. Even if it’s difficult. Even if the work seems great. Even if we don’t get very far in our lifetime.

That is our ultimate responsibility as fathers and parents. We try. We hope. We do what we can to build our house upon the sturdiest rock. And when the winds come, and the rains fall, and they beat upon that house, we keep faith that our Father will be there to guide us, and watch over us, and protect us, and lead His children through the darkest of storms into light of a better day. That is my prayer for all of us on this Father’s Day, and that is my hope for this country in the years ahead. May God Bless you and your children. Thank you.

I watched Richard’s face squeeze into a painful expression of effort and struggle. He was triggered by the two attackers (Uke’s) who rushed at him swinging their arms and grabbing at him. He was moving backward in retreat and definitely becoming overwhelmed. Suddenly, Richard grabbed one of the attackers in a headlock and threw him roughly to the ground. As he did this he lost his balance and followed his uke to the mat. The second attacker stood over Richard surprised to find him in so vulnerable a position. Richard lay on his back and started kicking his foot at the standing attacker while the first recovered and took his place next to his fellow uke, clearly in charge of Richard’s fate.

For those of us looking on from the back of the mat, we had just seen an example of what not to do when under severe pressure. Richard had panicked. He reverted to his conditioned tendency which was to get overexcited, to work too hard, to get stiff and inflexible, and finally to loss his balance and ground.

In Aikido, the randori is an opportunity to practice calmness and groundedness under pressure. Two or more attackers create the pressure. There is no way to plan a randori, there is no way to think your way out of it, every strike or grab of your attacker is extemporaneous. In order to be successful you need to be totally present, totally grounded, and calm. How is this possible? It takes a commitment to training.

Each of us has our own way of handling pressure. Some of us run, some attack, and some of freeze up. This is just as true in life at it is in Aikido. We have deadlines, we have a colleague or a boss that is pressuring us, we have unexpected interruptions and emergencies that throw us off our game. We may shut the door and try to ignore the overwhelm (running from), we may snap at our colleague or boss (attacking), or we may just spin our wheels in anxiety and sleepless nights (freezing).

In order to deal with the randori’s of life we need to rewire our conditioned tendencies. If our tendency is to run away from discomfort, then we train ourselves to center and turn into the situation and experience it fully. If our tendency is to attack when triggered, then we train ourselves to center and stay present. If our tendency is to let our minds spin out of control in fear and anxiety so that we are paralyzed, we train ourselves to center and be totally present with the situation.

How do we train ourselves to center? We bring ourselves into the present moment. We follow our breath, we feel our bodies, we slow the endless chatter of our minds. Meditation is a great practice. So is Tai Chi and Yoga.

I like Aikido because it requires presence while working with others. You might call it meditation in the midst of action.

Of course none of this can be learned from books, although books can play a small part. It takes commitment and practice.

Life is a randori. We can fight it and resist it and end up losing our balance like Richard.

Or we can train ourselves to deal with the challenges, manifest our best selves, without fear, with clear heads and fully present to the possibilities.

pete

Sometimes life seems to take over and I get swept away by the swift current of appointments, deadlines, commitments, and “to do” lists. When this happens I feel overwhelmed and anxious. I don’t feel grounded.

The first thing I realize is that it is I who have created this. It isn’t the demands of others, nor the business itself that creates my hectic schedule. It is me. I say ‘yes’ to requests, I make the commitments, the appointments, and yes, the stress. When I accept that I am accountable it makes it easier to change the pattern of overwhelm because all I have to do is change myself.

Should be easy, right? All I have to do is say ‘No’ more often, make commitments with due dates that are reasonable, and schedule appointments only when needed. However, like most things, there is a big difference between knowing what to do and actually doing it.

I like to use losing 10lbs as an example. We know how to do it. We need to skip a few of the in between meal snacks, eat better at meals, and exercise regularly. The problem is we tend to grab the cookie on the counter as we pass by, go for seconds at dinner, and drive by the gym on our way home.

What makes us say “Yes” to things when we know we should say “No”? For me, it varies. I want to have an identity with others that is caring, kind, and generous; and I fear that saying “No” would run counter to that image. The truth is, I AM caring, kind, and generous. If I truly believe that, then saying “No” won’t change my identity with others.

Saying “No” can be uncomfortable. I have been taught to put others ahead of myself and it seems like a selfish thing to turn someone away so that I have time for myself. Keeping a balance in my life is not selfish, it is critical to my effectiveness and success. When I am balanced, my purpose, values, and beliefs align with my actions. There is room in my life for family, friends, books, writing, Aikido, meditation…all the things that, along with work, fuel my heart and soul. If I do not pay attention to myself, I bring less and less to others.

Another way to look at this is to think about value. If I do not value myself, my time, or my talents, then others will not value me either. I will be taken for granted, just as I take myself for granted.

Knowing that I am accountable for my overwhelm, being deliberate about the commitments I make, having the courage to say “No” when necessary, valuing myself and my time, and understanding the importance of balance to my overall effectiveness as a leader…is the foundation and ground from which I create a new way of being in the world.

pete

Today I received one of the greatest gifts of my life. My daughter, Colleen, who is 20 years old and a student at Rutgers University, has discovered one of her gifts and let her voice come forth. She has never had a voice lesson and she has never really shared her singing with us. Her older sister, Kate, sent me a link to music which she was quietly publishing on the Internet

left: Collleen right: Kate

How grateful I am to see my child manifest a gift that is hers, uniquely.

My father is undergoing heart surgery today and this is a link to a song that Colleen dedicates to him.

Angel

Here is more of Colleen’s music.

Each of us has a gift or gifts which live deeply within us. More often then not, we don’t honor them. One of my gifts is that of words, and most of my life I ignored it. I didn’t think it was a way to make a living. I didn’t think I was good enough. I minimized its importance.

Whether you can earn a living with your gift, or where you stack up against others doesn’t really matter, does it?

A gift is our deepest self manifesting itself in the world. When we use our gifts we are truly alive and present. It is joyous to do so. It is joyous to witness others.

Let us celebrate the beauty that lives in each of us.

in gratefulness, abundance, and peace,

pete

I love the mystic poetry of Kabir. I particularly like this translation of his poem…

The Lord Is In Me

The Lord is in me, and the Lord is in you,

As life is hidden in every seed

So rubble your pride, my friend,

And look for Him within you.

When I sit in the heart of His world

A million suns blaze with light,

A burning blue sea spreads across the sky,

Life’s turmoil falls quiet,

All the stains of suffering wash away.

Listen to the unstruck bells and drums!

Love is here; plunge into its rapture!

Rains pour down without water;

Rivers are streams of light.

How could I ever express

How blessed I feel

To revel in such vast ecstasy

In my own body?

This is the music

Of soul and soul meeting,

Of the forgetting of all grief.

This is the music

That transcends all coming and going.

Kabir

pete

This week I am going to visit my dad. He lives in Florida and is scheduled for open heart surgery. Because of his poor health there is a significant chance that he may not survive. My dad has been a gigantic part of my life. Not heroic; but gigantic. He spent much of his life addicted to alcohol.

The influence of his addiction helped form the foundation of who I am today. As I grew up I developed powerful and useful personality adaptations, all of which helped me survive; all of which had significant downsides to them.

I grew up sensitive and intuitive. I had to be. If dad was in a ‘mood’ he was to be avoided at all costs because making the wrong move could wake the dragon. The positive side of my sensitivity and intuitiveness has helped me read situations well and make adjustments to other people…but the negative side was that I often avoided confrontations and shut down my own feelings.

I became very reflective and independent, spending a lot of time on my own, and spending as much time as I could out of the house and away from him. I read tons of books, I wrote terrible poetry, I spent huge amounts of time at the basketball courts. When I left home for college, I made my own way and rarely came home.

There was a lot of upside to this. I became a good basketball player and was recruited to play in college. I eventually went on to be an English teacher and in addition to blogging, I have written a novel and am in the midst of a second one.

The downside of this reflective and independent streak was that intimacy was difficult for me. I was afraid to trust my partners in relationships. I needed to be in control, for that seemed to be the safest place to be in a relationship. I wouldn’t get hurt if I were in control… at least I thought I wouldn’t. No wonder after getting married in my 20’s I was divorced within 18 months.

My dad was the ‘villain’ in my life story and I was the heroic victim. I was mad at him for years…even as I sought his approval. For years I wished that my childhood could have been different, that I would have had a loving and supportive father. That instead of dreading my father coming home after work, that I had a dad that I looked forward to seeing.I went through years where I healed many parts of me that were broken and eventually found myself able to forgive him.

And now, in the last decade, I have learned to open my heart. I have learned to love the person that I am and that has enabled me to love him, unconditionally…without the need for apologies nor the need for me to forgive him. He doesn’t need my forgiveness.

Whatever suffering I felt years ago is gone. It no longer defines me. In a strange way it was a gift to me. My spirit and my soul have grown tremendously because of him. I never thought I’d say this; but I wouldn’t have changed anything on this journey.

So now I sit on edge of a huge transition. This man, my father…this gigantic figure in my life, may be leaving forever. He is so much a part of me and I am so lucky to have him in my life.

Like so many Irish fathers and sons, including his own father, there were some epic battles fought during our lives. But when I sit with my own son; when on occasion I corner him, give him a hug, and tell him I love him… ( to his consternation, after all he is 16)…I know that the cycle is broken.

I have learned to love…in large part throught the journey that my father and I have taken together.

His spirit will always be with me.

pete

What is the connection between our spiritual growth and our work? Most people keep them separate. It’s pretty common to feel that work is work and the spiritual stuff shouldn’t be mixed in with our professional lives. A contrary view of what it is to be a working professional and an effective leader is emerging.

Aren’t we most fulfilled when our life’s purpose and our work are aligned?

Robert Frost says it brilliantly in the last stanza of “Two Tramps in Mudtime”

My object in living is to unite
My avocation and my vocation
As my two eyes make one in sight.
Only where love and need are one,
And the work is play for mortal stakes,
Is the deed ever really done
For Heaven and the future’s sakes.

Aren’t leaders most effective when they inspire those around them to their best work?

Inspiring others isn’t something that comes from authority. Authority produces compliance. Inspiration is not something that we can fake or think through with our minds. It is the ability to access the deepest parts of ourselves; and in so doing touch the hearts, as well as the minds, of those around us. Accessing the peace of the heart, speaking from that sacred place, and touching the hearts of others is what makes great leaders. It is a spiritual journey that we take for ourselves and those we serve.

Aren’t we most effective when we can stay grounded and present during chaotic events at work?

This is more than just ’staying calm’, it is the ability to let our purpose guide us, to be totally present to what is happening, and to take appropriate action. The deeper we feel our purpose at work the easier it is to navigate chaos. Our purpose is our GPS system. The more we can stay present in the midst of chaos and not let our minds run away into judgments or worry, or thinking in general; the more we can see the situation clearly and the better the chances we will act appropriately.

If we connect with people and we are truly present with them, aren’t we more apt to build trust with them?

Being present means not thinking about what we are going to say next, nor is it having silent judgments about what they are saying, “That’s not right.” “That’s naive.” “That’s a great idea.” It is listening, actively and openly. Training our minds to be present is the underlying concept of meditation, a deeply spiritual endeavor

Perhaps the workplace is the best place for us to engage our spiritual selves. The connection between our spiritual journeys and the effectiveness of our work lives is impossible to sever. We may think we can compartmentalize our spirit from our work, but over time the artificial barriers break down. After all, we can’t help being who we are.

Aren’t we most effective and most fulfilled when we are fully human…even at work?

pete

Here are three highlights from the last class that I thought were exceptional.

In the first clip Eckhart Tolle explores the idea that when the mind gets anxious and fearful the body reacts as if something was really happening. The body reacts by producing the emotions and contractions that it would if it were in the midst of a real situation.

In the second clip, Tolle tells the story of the ‘Duck with a Human Mind’. Two ducks get into a ’spat’ on a pond; since they don’t have egoic minds, getting over the incident is easy. What happens if it is two humans having the ’spat’?

In the final clip, Tolle speaks about two monks, one who carries a girl across muddy patch and sets her down and one who carries the incident in his mind for hours as they walk.

pete