from "Hold it Up to the Light" by David Wilcox, Big Horizon, 1994 "I was dead with deciding; I was afraid to choose I was mourning the loss of those choices I'd lose, But there's no choice at all if I don't make my move, And just trust that the timing is right..." Remember Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade? There’s a scene at the end that has become so iconic that it is often parodied in popular culture. Harrison Ford, playing the daring archaeologist Indiana Jones, is working with his father Henry Jones, played by Sean Connery, to find the Holy Grail. His quest leads him to an underground cave, and he comes upon a room filled with what looks like hundreds of different chalices. The Grail Knight who is guarding this sacred room says to Jones, “Choose wisely, for while the true Grail will bring you life, the false Grail will take it from you.” The viewer then sees Jones’s competitor pick and drink from one of the many chalices in the room – and his body quickly turns to bones. The Grail Knight looks at Indiana Jones and says, “He chose…poorly.”
I’m not sure about you, but often I feel like Indiana Jones in the Grail room. I am faced with a decision, and there seem to be a million possible options in front of me. Or sometimes the choice is just between two things, but it still isn’t much easier. The problem for me is that I have my own Grail Knight in my head. He tells me that if I make the wrong choice, I will certainly die! That idea can leave me paralyzed, unable to make any choice at all for extreme fear of the unknown and possibly deadly consequence I will face. If I am honest with myself, the outcomes of my choices are never so dire. We don’t live on “lets make a deal” where the first door leads to riches and the second leads to a zonk. If choices were that clear, it wouldn’t be hard at all! Door number one please! Choices are hard because the far end of the path we choose is mostly unknown. Most likely, the decision is hard because all options have potential good parts to them. It’s hard because we don’t have a crystal ball that shows us all the possibilities that go along with making a certain decision. We must choose despite the ambiguity that we face. When I look back on my life and the choices I have made, I am generally happy with where my choices have lead. Even when I can see that I made a bad choice, I can find good things that resulted from it. It’s a fun game to play sometimes: “Well if I hadn’t chosen this, then XY and Z good things wouldn’t have been possible.” It’s also a hard game because we don’t know how XY and Z would look if a different choice had been made instead. Danish philosopher Soren Kierkegaard said, “life can only be understood backwards, but it must be lived forwards.” In other words, it’s all a trick of retrospect. We can look back at our choices and be grateful for where they led us. We can look ahead at the choice in front of us and know that once we are past it, we will most likely be able to see some good outcomes from the choice we make – either way. With this thinking, I can see that choosing “poorly” or “wisely” isn’t really the issue. The trick is making a choice at all. Once we do that, it’s hindsight that can help us see the good from it – either way we decide to go. Next time you have to choose between two or a million possibilities, remember that the Grail Knight is fiction. The choice will lead you somewhere great - as long as you take the time to look back and find the wisdom in your choices.
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from Song of Myself by Walt Whitman, Section 40 "Behold, I do not give lectures or a little charity, When I give I give myself." We’ve all heard the old adage “It is better to give than to receive.” This quote actually has roots in scripture – but the Biblical phrase uses “more blessed” instead of “better.” Whether you have an appreciation for scripture or not, I’m sure you could still agree with the philosophy presented. We’ve all known how amazingly good it feels to find the PERFECT gift for someone. We can’t wait to see the look on a person's face when he or she opens it. We feel better – if not blessed – when we can brighten someone’s day with a gift.
Giving gifts certainly is fun, but I would go a step further and say that it is easier to be on that end of the transaction. There is a great episode of the Big Bang Theory where Sheldon, a character who borders on neurotic, becomes frantic when he learns that his neighbor, Penny, has a gift for him. He spends the episode in agony of how to reciprocate her gift in a way that will prove “even” with whatever gift she gives him. The problem, of course, is that the gift from Penny is a surprise, so Sheldon does not know how big or small his gift to Penny should be in exchange. He buys several different gifts for her so that once he opens the gift she gives him, he will have on hand an appropriate gift to present to her. We aren’t all as obsessive as Sheldon, but we do know what it feels like to receive a gift when we are unprepared to reciprocate. And there are times still, when accepting a gift is hard for another reason. Perhaps someone is offering a gift that is more than you think they can afford. Perhaps you know that they need it more than you do. In these circumstances, we must remember that a gift like this is more for the giver than the receiver. The feeling of fullness that you have when you give selflessly – your gift giver feels that too. To turn down a gift, even one that you know is too much, would be to rob your giver of their own fullness. So you must be gracious. Take the gift that you know you may never be able to repay. This concept can apply beyond the physical gifts, too. I know that most people, like me, have struggled with self-esteem. Women especially are bombarded with images that make them feel less than. So when women are given compliments – “I love your hair” or “What a beautiful scarf” or even “You did a great job on that project,” we are masters at deflecting the verbal gift. We respond with, “Ugh I HATE my curls” or “This old thing?” or “Well, I had a lot of help.” We need to learn to accept these verbal gifts with confidence – knowing that it is okay to be reminded of our strength, beauty, and wisdom. In the end of the Big Bang Theory, Sheldon is dismayed that the gift that Penny gave him is one of sentimental value – it cannot be quantified or reciprocated with any size lotion basket. He was forced to accept the gift and let go of his need to always repay. So even though it is better to give, and often easier to give, we will all find ourselves on the receiving end, too. If we acknowledge the importance of that role and accept gifts, both tangible and not, with gratefulness and full understanding of our inability to reciprocate, we will begin to more fully appreciate the gifts that we are given every day. After all, we did nothing to make the sun come up today; the day itself is a gift – one that no one can repay. from The art of Fielding by Chad Harbach, 2011 “But baseball was different. Schwartz thought of it as Homeric - not a scrum but a series of isolated contests. Batter versus pitcher, fielder versus ball. You couldn't storm around, snorting and slapping people, the way Schwartz did while playing football. You stood and waited and tried to still your mind. When your moment came, you had to be ready, because if you [messed] up, everyone would know whose fault it was. What other sport not only kept a stat as cruel as the error but posted it on the scoreboard for everyone to see?” Spring is in the air, which, for me, means allergies. I’m buying my allergy medicine at Costco in bulk quantities to try and get ahead of the pollen. The other thing that Spring means – at least at my house – is baseball. You don’t need to go to Costco to get baseball in bulk; with 30 major league teams and 162 games played by each in a season, over 2,400 games are played each year. I will admit I used to be one of the naysayers about this deceptively slow sport. I know you’ve heard the line, “I like going to a game, but I can’t stand to watch it on TV.” What changed my mind about America’s pastime was having a teacher (my husband) explain the game to me. Here are a few things I’ve learned that have helped me to appreciate baseball:
1) Statistics. You may have seen Moneyball starring Brad Pitt a few years ago, but the prevalence of statistics in baseball is not Hollywood fiction. To understand the statistics of the game – what counts for and against a pitcher’s stats, for example – helps make baseball much more interesting. 2) Players. I grew up watching football, where players are covered head to toe with helmets and pads, and a team is made up of a 53-man roster. Baseball allows the fan to know the players much more intimately. Nine players rotate at bat, and you can see their faces many times each game. After watching just a few games, you get to know the players. The Oakland Athletics, which is the team of choice in my home, has a player named Coco Crisp. He is notorious for changing his hairstyle often. How fun is that? 3) Individual Responsibility and Team Camaraderie. Baseball, more than football, seems to be a game where the individual role is on display each inning. The extreme pressure that is put on the pitcher is undeniable. The man at bat holds the team success or failure while he is at the plate. The fly ball – caught or missed – can change the momentum of the game. Still, baseball is a team sport. It is clearer in baseball than any other team sport, that the individuals each have an important role in the success of a team. Without each position playing well, the team will likely fail. And teammates look out for one another. One batter may hit a sacrifice fly – forfeiting his chance to run the bases so that another teammate can score. If a pitcher is on a streak, players will fight tooth and nail to keep the opposition from getting on base. 4) Win / Loss. My husband tells me that teams are expected to win 25% of their games and lose 25%. That is a given. It’s what they do with the other 50% that determines playoff hopes. I love this message – perfection is not necessarily the goal. The best teams will lose. The worst teams will win. The game of baseball teaches sportsmanship in a way that other, shorter seasoned sports fail to do. Despite my reasons, you still may feel that watching baseball on TV is not your cup of tea. Well luckily for you, both major and minor league teams are in full swing (pardon the pun). And if you don’t happen to live near one of these ballparks, I guarantee that tee ball or little league fields live somewhere close to you. So pop your allergy meds, pack up a blanket, grab the peanuts, and hit the ballpark. Watch this great game at its purest – where children and young adults are learning how to shine while working together – and how to be great winners and losers. from "Within My Power" by Forest E. Witcraft, Scouting Magazine, October 1950 “One hundred years from now, it will not matter what my bank account was, the sort of house I lived in, or the kind of car I drove…but the world may be different because I was important in the life of a child.” (My mother, an amazing calligrapher, hand-lettered this quote and set it on our mantel. I encountered it most days of my life, and I still see it when I am home or when I visit my grandmother, her mom, who has the piece of art in her home as well.) Just after I had my first child, a high school friend of mine emailed me and wondered what I thought about parenting. She and her husband were trying to decide if they wanted to have children, and her friends were always talking about how hard and expensive it is. This question gave me a chance to reflect on motherhood and how it has changed me.
First, I think that having children is great because it opens us up to a new kind of love. Growing up, we can love our parents, love our siblings, love our friends, love our boyfriends or girlfriends, and eventually love a spouse. Each of these loving relationships is different, and they teach us something about life and how the world works. They teach us more about God's love for us. Having children opens us up to one more type of loving relationship. The difference between having kids and being a member of a family is that the decision to have kids is just that – a choice. We don’t choose to be born or to be a sibling – those relationships happen to us. But having children is usually an intentional choice. Making the decision to have kids opens us to an entire new range of emotions. In a theoretical sense, it gives us a chance to experience the greatest fullness and pride possible. It also gives us a chance to experience the greatest grief and fear possible. And the real struggle is that we don’t get to choose which experience we have – and most parents would probably say that parenting is a bit of both. When a baby is born, the parents realize that they could never have anticipated how much love and joy they could feel. When a baby is sick, the parents realize that they could never have anticipated how much heartache and sadness they could feel. To decide to become a parent, you have to be willing to acknowledge that both worlds are possible. This theoretical idea became real to me when my son was born. He was lovely and healthy, but being the parent of an infant was really, really hard. Then he got an infection that led us to the hospital several times – and eventually resulted in surgery for our 11 week old. Joy and heartache. Love and fear. This experience helped me to understand more about the world than I did before. It helped me to look at my parents differently. My mom and dad changed my diapers, fed me, loved me, and were afraid for me - just as I was for my baby. I decided that I could probably be a better daughter – I could call more often and speak with more patience than I had before. Another unexpected outcome of my situation was a new kind of empathy for friends and strangers who have had some difficulty with children. Some friends have chosen to take the risk and try to have kids, only to learn that they can’t easily get pregnant. I know many couples who long to be parents, and who go to great lengths to try and have kids, without luck. Every baby, pregnant woman, and Gerber jar these friends encounter is a funeral. Some of my friends have lost children to rare diseases at birth. I still think often about one friend in particular who carried her seemingly healthy baby to term, only to lose him in the first minutes of his life. She left the hospital with a swollen belly, returned home to a fully prepared nursery, and encountered cashiers and bank tellers who would ask about her little one. Another dear friend recently suffered a miscarriage. She was left on the delivery floor for this dark night - hearing heart monitors and baby cries as she lost her sweet child. I have not experienced it myself, but I can imagine how losing a child – at any age – would be unbearable, and I have the utmost sympathy and admiration for people who have survived such a tragedy. In the end, I told my friend that in my mind, the best thing I could do in this world was to bring a kind, smart, and loving person into it. I can try my best to be a good person and leave a good legacy, but I can’t imagine anything more rewarding in this life than knowing that I have added more good people to our broken world. May it be so. |
Diana CurtisWife, mom, stepmom, writing instructor, handbell ringer, choir singer, calligrapher, and expert napper. Archives
December 2017
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