Remember

One woman complained to a friend that she couldn’t remember anything from one day to the next.

“Let me get this straight,” he said. “You can’t remember anything from one day to the next. How long has this been going on?”

She said, “How long has what been going on?”

Even if your memory is perfect, it may still help to focus on the few things you really need to remember. This list, compiled from several sources, may be all you really need to remember..

• Remember that your presence is a gift (a present) to the world.
• Remember that you are a unique and unrepeatable being.
• Remember that you are still becoming what you will be.
• Remember to relax; each day just comes one at a time.
• Remember to count your blessings, not your troubles.
• Remember that you have sufficient courage to face whatever comes along.
• Remember that most of the answers you need are within you.
• Remember that decisions are too important to leave to chance.
• Remember to always reach for the best that is within you.
• Remember that nothing wastes more energy than worry.
• Remember that not getting what you want is sometimes a wonderful stroke of luck.
• Remember that the longer you carry a grudge, the heavier it gets.
• Remember not to take things too seriously; there’s always reason to laugh.
• Remember that happiness is more often found in giving than getting.
• Remember that life’s greatest treasures are people, not things.
• Remember that a little love goes a long way.
• Remember that a lot goes forever.

-- Steve Goodier

Farther Along the Beauty Way

Coming from the US state of New Mexico, I learned early in life to love spicy foods. We like to treat friends to favorite homemade spicy dishes. (Some may think we inflict our tastes on them; I prefer to say we treat them to authentic New Mexican cuisine.) A typical reaction to a dish bathed in our hot sauce goes like this: they smile and enthusiastically try a bite; their eyes open far too wide and they begin to sweat profusely and reach for the water to put out the flames in their stomachs; then, when voice and reason return, they nod and politely say, “Tasty.” They sometimes don’t come back.

One person commented, “I’ve heard of people who preach hellfire, but you’re the only one I know who hands out samples.”

These days, however, my body is starting to tell me to be more selective in my diet. I have to be careful of overdoing my favorites. I still like it hot, but in smaller quantities. I relate to the woman who stepped off the scale and was asked by her husband what the verdict was. “According to the height table,” she replied, “I should be about six inches taller.”

But more important than the food I put into my body are thoughts I put into my mind. Thoughts of bitterness like, “I hate her!” Thoughts of despair like, “I'll never be happy again.” Thoughts of fear like, “I could never do that!” And thoughts of worry, thoughts of greed and thoughts of self-loathing…“I’m so stupid.” A constant diet of these killer thoughts will destroy any of us long before heartburn or cholesterol.

The indigenous Navajo people of New Mexico, Utah and Arizona (the Diné, as they call themselves) have an expression for this. They traditionally believe that how they fill their minds will shape their lives. So they want to fill their minds with that which is good, harmonious and edifying. They speak of “walking and thinking in the Beauty Way” – ridding their minds of all that is destructive and filling them with that which is good and peaceful.

With beauty, may I walk.
With beauty before me, may I walk.
With beauty behind me, may I walk.
With beauty above me, may I walk.
With beauty all around me, may I walk.
(Excerpt from the Navajo Night Way Ceremony)

The Beauty Way is the way of love and contentment, peace and kindness. It is the way of patience and courage and, above all, harmony.

In old age, wandering on a trail of beauty,
lively, may I walk.
In old age, wandering on a trail of beauty,
living again, may I walk.
It is finished in beauty.
It is finished in beauty.
(Excerpt from the Navajo Night Way Ceremony)

What are you putting into your mind? James Allen has said, “You are today where your thoughts have brought you; you will be tomorrow where your thoughts take you.” Fill your mind with life-affirming thoughts and tomorrow will find you farther along the Beauty Way.

-- Steve Goodier

Let Go or Get Dragged

Image by Lee Wright

Do you know who the hardest person to love is?

The name "Benedict Arnold" is synonymous with "traitor." But he was actually a loyal citizen of what was to become the United States, a gallant soldier and a five-star general. Wounded twice in battle, he was highly respected for his military leadership. He even enjoyed the friendship of George Washington.

Arnold never thought he received the recognition he deserved. During the American Revolutionary War, he saw five subordinates promoted over him, and the blow to his esteem was more than he could manage. The injury to his pride was far greater than those physical injuries he sustained in battle. So he laid plans for revenge.

In 1780, he attempted to betray vital West Point to the British. He later moved to England and was paid a sum of money to compensate for his property loss, but he was never fully accepted in British society. He eventually returned to trading and died a mostly unsuccessful and unhappy man.

Mary Kay Ash (of Mary Kay Cosmetics) said, “There are two things people want more than sex and money -- praise and recognition.” Benedict Arnold is an unfortunate example.

Interestingly, do you know who is the most difficult person to love? It is easy to love friends and not too difficult to love those less fortunate than ourselves. It certainly isn't easy loving enemies, but sometimes the person most difficult to love is the one who is MORE fortunate than we are. The one who receives the promotion we deserved. The one who gets the recognition we desired, the honor we sought or the affections of the lover we had hoped to win. It is easy to resent those who seem to be more fortunate – those who “get all the breaks.”

But as one person said to me, "Let go or get dragged. Unless you let things go, you should be prepared to have that thing drag you around until you have to let it go."

Jealousy? Let go or get dragged.

A desperate need to be appreciated or loved? Let go or get dragged.

A need for recognition that simply isn't coming? Let go or get dragged.

A desire to get credit for your hard work – credit that is going to someone else? Let go or get dragged.

We've all felt these things. And if we want to move beyond them in a healthy way, the answer is to let go or get dragged.

Besides, if you ever want to grab onto something good, you'll need a free hand.

-- Steve Goodier

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Walking Together in the Light

Image by Gabriella Fabbri

A funny story tells about a rabbi and a priest that met at the town picnic and began their usual “kibitzing.”

“This baked ham is just delicious,” the priest teased the rabbi. “You really should try some. I know it’s against your religion, but I can’t understand why such a wonderful thing should be forbidden. You just don’t know what you’re missing. You haven’t lived until you’ve tried Mrs. Kennedy’s baked ham. Tell me, when are you going to break down and try a little ham?”

The rabbi looked at the priest, smiled and said, “At your wedding.”

It's clear that much of the conflict between people of differing religious beliefs, particularly deeply-held religious beliefs, stems from the assertion that “we” are right and “they” are wrong. Our beliefs, our history, our practices are true, theirs are false. But can one group have a monopoly on truth?

Truth is light, wherever it is found. It is the sun in the noonday sky, shining on all universally. It cannot be bottled and sold or dispensed in secret tomes and ceremonies. It cannot be stolen, hidden or possessed by one group over another. Truth, like the sun, is viewed in different ways and known by different names. It is seen differently from different angles, but it shines in all directions.

“We can easily forgive a child who is afraid of the dark,” said Plato. “The real tragedy of life is when men are afraid of the light.” Afraid of truth. And afraid of one another.

I await the day that all people, all religions, walk in the light. And as they walk, they listen and understand. And in their understanding, they laugh. 

When the day comes that they laugh, they'll know how to walk together in light.

-- Steve Goodier

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An Important Word to Learn

Image by Max Straeten

An office reports that they have an answering machine that instructs callers to leave their name and address, and to spell any difficult words.

Early one Monday when an assistant was reviewing weekend messages, she heard an enthusiastic woman recite her name and address and then confidently say, "My difficult word is reconciliation. R-E-C-O-N-C-I-L-I-A-T-I-O-N."

Everyone's a comic. (And I love that.) But in another sense, reconciliation IS a difficult word. If not difficult to spell, then difficult to carry out. But it's also an important word.

When my son was eleven years old he came home from school in tears one day. A couple of the older kids had bullied him at the bus stop.

We soon learned that tension had been brewing for some time. For several days there had been taunts, then pushing and shoving. And now the conflict escalated to fists. Rob wanted to stay home from school so he wouldn't have to confront the boys in the future.

We called the school and found great support. "We'll be happy to call the boys' parents," we were told. "And you should call the police."

"We don't know what we will do yet," I said. I felt that calling the police was a resort to be used when everything else failed, and I wanted first to consider other ways of handling the situation. I asked him to hold off calling the boy's parents.

The next day was Saturday. Rob happened to look out the window and said in alarm, "There are the boys who beat me up!" Two older boys were standing in front of our house, as if they were waiting for Rob to step outside.

I immediately began to think of what I wanted to say to them, but my wife Bev, a natural peacemaker, acted first. She opened the door and said with a smile, "Hi guys. Would you like some ice cream?"

They looked at each other in puzzlement. But they were teenagers, after all, so they shrugged their shoulders and one of them said, "Sure. Why not?"

They followed her indoors and Bev promptly introduced herself, Rob's younger brothers and me. She even introduced Rusty the dog. "And I think you already know Rob," she said, pointing to our son. Her idea was to help them to see that Rob was a person, not a target. He had a family; he lived in a neighborhood and even owned a family pet.

Bev drew the boys into conversation while we ate ice cream. After a few minutes, she said, "I know there's been some trouble at the bus stop. I think there may be a misunderstanding."

They nodded that there had indeed been trouble at the bus stop.

She continued, "Maybe we can talk about the misunderstanding so you can be friends."

They nodded their agreement and we talked until the ice cream was finished. Eventually the boys apologized and said there would be no more trouble. And there wasn't. Ever.

The vice-principal of the school called back the following week and asked about the fighting. "Did you call the police?" he asked.

"No, but we've taken care of it," I said.

"What did you do?" he wondered.

I said, "We fed them ice cream."

Reconciliation is a difficult word...a difficult task. But what could be more important? It may be easier to control conflict by force than to persevere and find a way through to harmony and cooperation. Force can stabilize a situation; it can impose a truce. But reconciliation leads to peace, which is a far better outcome.

Blessed are the reconcilers. May they be given all the ice cream they can ever eat!

-- Steve Goodier

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Walking Through Life

 

Image by M Nota

An unusual thing happened to me a few years ago. I spoke casually with a woman who served tables at a restaurant I frequented. We knew each other by first name only, but usually chatted for a few minutes each time I dined there.

One day, she asked me, “Do you have a son about eight years old?”

'What has he done?' I thought. I nodded yes.

She pressed on. “Does he play soccer?”

When I said that he did, she asked if he played in a game the previous week at a particular field. Again, I answered, “Yes.”

“I thought so,” she smiled. “I saw him and thought he must be your son.”

Since there were tens of thousands of young boys in the city, I was amazed and exclaimed, “I didn't know he looked that much like me!”

“Oh, I didn't see his face,” she said smiling as if she were keeping a secret.

“Then how did you know he was my son?” Now I was puzzled.

“I was just sitting in the car, and I saw a little boy in a baseball cap walking across the field to join his team. He walks like you.”

Walks like me? Now I was curious. How do I walk? Since I'm doing the walking, I don't notice how I look to others. Maybe I could watch him amble around to get an idea.

That said, how we walk down a street and how we walk through life are very different things. Perhaps I can't help how I walk down a street, but I want to be intentional about how I walk through life.

Through life, I want to walk gently. I want to treat all of life – the earth and its people – with reverence. I want to remove my shoes in the presence of holy ground. As much as possible, I want to walk in peace.

I want to walk lightly, even joyfully, through whatever days I am given. I want to laugh easily. I want to step carefully in and out of people's lives and relationships. I don't want to tread any heavier than necessary.

And throughout life, I think I would like to walk with more humility and less anger, more love and less fear. I want to walk confidently, but without arrogance. I want to walk in deep appreciation. I want to be genuinely thankful for life's extravagant, yet simple, gifts – a star-splattered night sky or a hot drink on an ice-cold day.

If life is a journey, then how I make that journey is important. How I walk through life.

But still I wonder how I look when I walk down a street.

– Steve Goodier

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Keeping the Peace

Do you remember the famous feud between the Hatfields and the McCoys? A squabble started between these families in the states of Kentucky and West Virginia during the American Civil War. After the war, the feud was kept alive by disputes over a fiddle worth $1.75 and a stray razorback hog.

According to Stan Mooneyham, "Dancing on The Strait & Narrow," by Election Day 1882 the situation deteriorated to the point that three McCoy brothers killed Ellison Hatfield because he had insulted them. "Devil Anse," head of the Hatfield clan, had the three McCoys rounded up and tied to bushes within sight of their family cabin; then he put fifty rifle bullets into them. After that it was a life for a life -- sometimes two or three -- and even the women became just part of the body count. Hostilities didn't finally abate until the second decade of the twentieth century. The cost to those two families was immense. Almost thirty deaths were recorded in the most famous example of eye-for-an-eye revenge in U.S. history.

You've seen this scene in the movies: a rugged cowboy pats his pearl-handled six-shooter in a holster hanging from his hip and drawls, "This here is my peacemaker." Peacemaker? Maybe widow-maker. Or orphan-maker. The problem is, shooting people is not a good way to peace. It’s a little like the father who, while spanking his child, said, almost in cadence with each slap, "HOW MANY TIMES HAVE I TOLD YOU NOT TO HIT YOUR SISTER!" Gotta love the irony.

If force and violence can’t bring peace out of chaos, what can? What does it take to make peace? And to keep it?

The answer is clear. Peacemakers are not weapons -- peacemakers are people. You and I. Peacemakers are people with hearts for reconciliation and understanding. In our families; with our neighbors; around the world.

Level-headed and patient people have always been the best hope for a lasting and just peace. That is the only way it has ever worked.

Perhaps that’s why peacemakers are called blessed.

-- Steve Goodier

Aren't They All Our Children?

There are few things in this life more difficult to experience than the loss of one's child. Jim Wallis, in Who Speaks for God? tells about a sad and terrifying incident that occurred during the tragic war in Sarajevo not too many years back. A reporter who was covering the violence in the middle of the city saw a little girl fatally shot by a sniper.

The reporter threw down his pad and pencil and rushed to the aid of a man who was now holding the child. He helped them both into his car and sped off to a hospital.

"Hurry, my friend," the man urged, “my child is still alive.” A moment or two later he pleaded, "Hurry, my friend, my child is still breathing." A little later he said, "Hurry, my friend, my child is still warm."

When they got to the hospital, the young girl was gone. "This is a terrible task for me," the distraught man said to the reporter. "I must go tell her father that his child is dead. He will be heartbroken."

The reporter was amazed. He looked at the grieving man and said, "I thought she was YOUR child."

The man replied, "No, but aren't they all our children?"

I think that is one of the great questions of our age. Aren’t they all our children? It is a question that deserves an answer.

Aren't they all our children? Those who live under our roof and those who reside with another family? Those to whom we are related as well as those whom we have never known?

Aren't they all our children? Those on our side of the border as well as those on the other side? Those of our nation no more or less than those of another?

Aren’t they all our children? Those who worship like us and those who worship differently? Those who look like us and those who do not?

Aren’t they all our children? The well-educated and the under-educated? The well-fed and the under-fed? Those who are secure and those who are at risk?

Aren’t they all our children? The highly valued and highly esteemed as well as the castaways and the lost?

Aren’t they all our children? Aren’t they all our responsibility? ALL of them? Ours to nurture? Ours to protect? Ours to love?

I don’t think it is an exaggeration to say that the survival of our world hinges on the answer to that question.

To say they are NOT all our children is to condemn the world to more struggle – family against family, group against group, nation against nation.

Aren’t they all our children? If we say yes, can we ever again pit them against each other? "If we have no peace," said Mother Teresa, "it is because we have forgotten that we belong to each other."

Aren’t they all our children?

There may be no greater question for our generation. And how we answer that question will determine the shape of our world for years to come.

-- Steve Goodier

Millennium Dream

The daughter of comedian Groucho Marx was once denied admittance to an exclusive country club swimming pool with her friends because she and her family were not members. Realizing what had happened, embarrassed officials sent the Marx family an apology and an application to join. Groucho declined the invitation with the comment, “I wouldn’t want to belong to any club that would have me as a member.”

Someone still tried to smooth over the incident by persuading the comedian to allow an application to be submitted for membership. The country club was embarrassed further when the application was denied. The reason? The Marx family was Jewish and the club was “restricted.”

True to form, Groucho wrote back: “My wife is not Jewish. Can she go swimming and let our daughter wade up to her waist?”

I love his use of humor, but Groucho effectively shines a spotlight on the prevalence and absurdity of prejudice. He must have felt, as did Sir Isaac Newton so many years earlier, that we “build too many walls and not enough bridges.”

I yearn for a time when we courageously break down those walls that divide and build wide bridges between one another. I long for a super-highway of compassion and acceptance spanning our differences that will unite us as one. As we ease into a new millennium, I dream of an age when people will finally be connected heart to heart and mind to mind.

My greatest desire is that we somehow learn what it means to be family.

-- Steve Goodier

Image: flickr.com/Ryan Ebelt

Bringing Harmony to Discord

I once talked with a couple about their marriage. They completed personality “testing” and were discussing some differences that had frustrated them both over the years. I summarized some of those differences for them.

“You are sensitive,” I said to the husband. He nodded affirmatively. “You try to keep harmony in the relationship. It is important to you that you don’t have too much conflict, so you tend to give in often in order to keep the peace.” He agreed.

“You like affection and will often reach out and hold your wife’s hand for no reason at all.” He smiled and nodded.

“And you remember birthdays and special days – these are important to you.” He continued to smile and nod.

“And you particularly appreciate it when she says, ‘I love you.’ In fact, you need her to say that at least once a day.”

“EXACTLY!” he exclaimed with a broad smile, looking at his wife.

Then I spoke to her. “And you appreciate his sensitivity, but you tend to be more rational and logical.” She smiled and nodded.

“You can be more objective than he can about personal criticism and may sometimes be too blunt with him.” They both agreed.

“You like affection, but you don’t require it like he does. If you hold hands or not, that is unimportant to you.” She continued to nod.

“And you also appreciate the fact that he remembers those special days, but if he were to forget one, that would not upset you. In fact, you have to remember to say, ‘I love you’ to him, not because you don’t love him, but because saying it is just something you don’t think about often.” She agreed, looking at her husband.

“Saying words like ‘I love you’ does not mean the same thing to you as it does to him. You know you love him. In fact, you looked into his eyes when you got married and said, ‘I love you’ and figured that, if you ever change your mind, you’ll let him know.”

“EXACTLY!” she exclaimed, with a smile.

They told me that the discussion helped them to simply understand one another and to accept themselves. Rather than trying to change the other to get their own needs met, they could more easily appreciate their differences and also appreciate themselves as they are.

They found harmony where there used to be discord.

We don't get harmony when everybody sings the same note. Only notes that are different can harmonize. The same is true with people.

-- Steve Goodier

Image: flickr.com/Jason Jacobs