Why should I cry?

I cherish Christmas Morning. I cherish the Joy. Love. Peace. Mostly, I cherish the Hope.

I am extremely grateful to awaken to a house full of blessings. I am grateful to see gifts under the tree for my children. I am grateful for the sleepy eyes that greet me, screaming "Santa came." Mostly, I'm so grateful for the peace I feel in my heart--especially today.

Indeed, I am full of Joy, Love, Peace and Hope today. But I also realize there is a lot more to this day than what rests under my Christmas tree, under my roof, and in my own heart. My thoughts go to others. I think of young boys and girls who woke up to nothing today. Boys and girls waking up hungry today. Abused today. Scared today. I think of them, and I cry for them.

I also think of family members whose hearts ache today. They miss their father/husband/grandfather, who unexpectedly passed away this summer. Some miss their mother, who had been sick and last week went to a place we call "better." I think of 26 souls. I have no words for that type of pain. So I simply cry.

I think of my mother, who is providing care for her husband as he slips from her grip. I think of my brother, who is fighting demons that have separated him from his wife and children and mother and brothers. Damn those demons. Damn them! Especially today.

So on this day of Joy, Love, Peace, and Hope, I've gone away from everyone for a moment to be alone and cry. To cry for those children who simply wish today they had a warm meal and a safe haven, let alone a gift from Mr. Claus. I cry for those who miss their loved ones. I cry for my mother. I cry so hard for my brother. My God, he must be lonely today.

I cry because Grace lets me. I couldn't always do this. I only knew how to hide from these feelings. But today I feel so many others pain, and it reminds me to live with passion. It reminds me to be Joyful, to Love, to be Peaceful, and to have Hope.

I cry because it's a release. Some might think that feeling others' pain on this morning is a curse. But it's a blessing. It releases me from "me" and puts humanity front and center. It makes me feel grateful. For life. All of it. It tells me to have Hope.

So to those who hurt this morning, I cry for you. I pray for you. I have Joy, Love, Peace for you. Mostly, I have Hope for you. This Hope is a gift you cannot see. You can't touch it. You can't buy it at Macy's. You can't get it online. However, you can feel it. Please feel it.

This Hope is inside all of us, just waiting to be grabbed. Sometimes we simply need inspiration to help us see and feel it. We need to open our eyes. We need to care about others and their pain. We need to cry for them, and Hope for them.

Hope, especially today--when something much larger than all of us gave us the greatest Hope the world has ever seen.

Inspiration Speaks

I’m finding a wealth of inspiration these days, and I’m certain the reason behind it is the Season. This wonderful Holiday Season. The inspiration stirs my soul. My soul then needs to speak, and it relies on me to relay its messages. So here I am again, writing another blog that will hopefully inspire someone, help someone, calm another, and maybe even change someone by striking a heart-felt chord.

This wonderful Holiday Season I mention wasn’t always so wonderful. At times, as a kid, it was excruciatingly painful. Ironically, it’s exactly such pain that has turned me into the joyful person I am today.

I am light years from perfect, but pain taught me to stand up, do good, be good, and to help others whenever I have a chance. It taught me to cherish everything life has to offer. It taught me to recognize and appreciate my very own heartbeats, and it taught me to listen to the breath of others. It can be so simple, yet so vast. I appreciate it all.

The Holiday Season wouldn’t be complete without its Holiday-themed movies. One of my favorites is The Polar Express, and as I watched recently with my sons my attention kept going to the inspirational messages the train conductor was hole-punching on the tickets of the children who were riding the train to see Santa.

The words are so simple, but their meanings can be so vast as they relate to my life—to any life. Just like the Holiday Season inspired me to write this blog, these movie messages inspired me to write a few words of my own about them within this piece.

“Depend on. Count on. Lean on.”
Growing up, I really never felt as though I could depend on many people in my life. I attribute that to the chaos that my alcoholic stepfather created in our home. I should have been able to depend and count on and lean on him but I couldn’t, and that insecurity carried through to many others in my life. Once you are tainted so significantly, you begin to look at others through very cautious eyes.

This being said, as an empowered adult I now take every step possible to let others know they can count on me. I don’t have much materially to give, but I will listen, I care, and I will offer my heart. This most especially applies to my children, as well as to every young person I meet. You can depend on and count on me. You can lean on me. Know that.

I have also learned that I can depend on, count on, and lean on others, too. Slowly but surely, my soul has become more trusting. I know there are people who listen to me, who care about me, and who offer their hearts to me. I depend and count and lean on them. It really is a “we” thing.

“Learn.”
It is clear from my previous few paragraphs that the conductor’s hole-punched “learn” message is one of the most important of inspirations. While I suffered through some painful and distrustful times, I also learned quite a bit from them. I didn’t always recognize that I was learning. In fact, I’m sure I ran, in ways I wasn't always proud of, from those feelings and situations for quite a while so I wouldn’t have to deal with the reality.

But, I did eventually realize that I learned from those times, that pain. I felt it as a kid, and I reprocessed it as an adult a few years ago so I would be sure it was taking its appropriate place in my being. Everything shapes us. The good and the bad and the very ugly. Accept. Process. Learn.

“Believe.”
This one particularly applies to the “simple yet vast” theme I mentioned in my opening lines of this blog. Believing, as we all know, is easier said than done. And, as such, I keep this one as simple as possible. I don’t need to know the why behind everything that happens. I just need to believe that all will be well.

I go back to my youth again, the most challenging time for me to believe. Through it all, I did keep believing. If only a belief the size of a mustard seed, I believed.

Today, my belief is immense and far-reaching. I need to believe in something outside of me, much bigger than me. I’m not sure exactly what or who that is, but I believe. I really do. I believe in me. I believe in you. I believe that all will be well.

“Lead.”
Finally, we have “lead.” We gather our experiences from depending, leaning and counting on others. We take and file it all, and we learn. We come to believe in ourselves, in others, and in something much greater than all of us. And then, we lead.

We lead so others can see us overcome. We lead so others can see us succeed. We lead so others can see us depend and lean on one another. We lead so we can help others learn. We lead so others can see our belief at work. We lead because we owe it to each other. We lead because lights are meant to shine. Others see the light. They then hear their own heartbeat and another’s breath.

I’m inspired every day, but especially every Holiday Season. The Holidays were the most painful times of my life growing up. And now, they are the most joyful and inspirational. The reason for that transformation is so simple, yet so vast: I depend on, count on, and lean on you. I learn. I believe. And I lead.

That’s life, baby.

Love. Is. Everything.

Many people much more talented than me have written so much about Love. That includes songs, stories, poems, statements, theories … you get the idea.

Peter Gabriel sings in his song, Book of Love:  “The book of love is long and boring. No one can lift the damn thing. It's full of charts and facts and figures and instructions for dancing.”

Sting sings about Love, in his Sacred Love: “Don’t need no doctor. Don't need no pills. I got a cure for the country’s ills.”

One of my all-time favorite statements on Love was penned by the late great M. Scott Peck in his book, The Road Less Traveled. Peck wrote: “Ultimately, love is everything.”

When I think of Love I try not to complicate the meaning behind it, how it works, what it means, and so on. I keep it simple, as I try to do with all things in my life. Simplicity keeps me grounded and out of deep left field attempting to analyze life and failing to draw conclusions. Indeed, I try to simplify.

Everyone deserves Love. Everyone is entitled to Love. I am sure that many of the anxieties and insecurities in my life stem in large part from the Love I never received from a very mean-spirited stepfather. I didn’t realize this until the last five years or so. In realizing it I was able to then deal with it, accept it, move on, and grow. In Love.

I find Love in so many places in my life. The irony of that is that the Love I experience it isn’t always Love directed toward me. It’s Love I see in others. It’s Love shared. It’s Love in action. It’s Love in small gestures. It’s Love in smiles. It’s Love in laughter. It’s Love in a breath. It’s Love in a heartbeat. It’s very much Love in the eyes of my children.

Yes, I see Love all around me. It’s plentiful, but we don’t always take time to recognize it. It takes awareness and a gentle heart. Stop. Look. See. Feel it. It’s there. I appreciate it. It makes me happy. It makes me feel … Loved.

I was driving to work recently and saw a man holding a little girl while they waited for the girl’s school bus. As I neared them I saw the father laugh playfully with the girl, tickling her, and she laughed and put her head near his. Tender. That is Love. It was a wonderful moment for me at the beginning of my day.

I almost pulled my car over to tell that man how much I appreciated his gesture of Love to that little girl. The next time I see something similar, I will stop. Everyone deserves Love. And everyone who gives Love deserves to be thanked for doing so.

I am a firm believer that Love can heal a soul. I know it happens. I’ve seen it happen. It healed mine.  That random Love shared between the father and daughter … that’s the stuff dreams are made of. It’s Love. It heals.

To that man on that morning: “Thank you for sharing your Love with your daughter. And with me.”

Feel it. Alive. Now.

Hey, too long between musings … it’s time for a blog. Quick one.

Sorry for the scattering of phrases and incomplete sentences. But this is how I quickly jotted it down on a piece of paper today. So, this is how I’ll write it. I don’t want to try to explain these feelings too much. I don’t want my written explanations to distort the feelings. They’re too real—can’t possibly explain with a written word.

Here goes …

Feel it.

Almost five years ago I made a decision to put down a bottle. Or bottles. And, suddenly, I picked up my life, and my bliss. The bottles, it appears, were distracting me from realizing that bliss—from realizing my life. My body. My mind. My soul. From realizing it all.

But, now, I continue to feel like never before. I’m fully aware. Of my life. My body. My mind. My soul. All.

And I cherish it. I hold on tightly to each moment. And savor it. And then let it go. And it keeps repeating. Like cotton candy sugar on my lips.

Peace. Bliss. They are internal. Always there. Unseen. Awaiting discovery. By me. By us all.

In the past five years I’ve managed to also lose some of my “self.” Others first. As much as I can. In losing my “self,” I gain so much more. Others’ happiness … that makes me happy.

And I’ve become more fit. Mentally, physically. Emotionally.

On the physical side … endorphins are a wonderful thing. The natural version. Organic. Not sold in stores. The world doesn’t give them. Can’t take them away. It’s inside. All of us. Me.

I’ve always had it. Now I know it. Now I need it. Now I know how to get it.

Give. Be active. For my body and mind. And for others. Motivated.

Write, too. So good for me.

Mostly, love.

Just love.

Ultimately, love is everything.

That was quick, but felt good.

Go ahead. Feel it, too.

Feel it.

Peacelove

T

Gram, You Still Inspire Me ...

This Saturday, June 2 will mark two years since the death of my Grandmother, my Gram. I spoke at her funeral on that day in 2010 with a broken and heavy heart—but with a heart that was also joy-filled and healed many times over by that wonderful woman.

This blog is a transcript of what I said that day at Gram’s funeral with some minor changes. It’s my piece, after all. I’m sure Gram won’t mind. It was as difficult for me to look at this again today as it was to speak it back then. The photo below was taken on New Year’s Day in 2010. This was the last time Gram got to see my sons. What a special day.

Anyway, Gram this is once again for you. It is as heartfelt today as it was at your funeral and always will be. As I told you many times before you went away, “We will always be connected.”

Circa June 2, 2010:

This is one of the most difficult things I've ever done. It's also one of the most important—and definitely the most heartfelt. I stood in this church more than 30 years ago and placed a hand-drawn Fred Flintstone picture in my Grandpa Benjamin Ferrebee’s (Gramps’) casket. Today, I guess it’s just not that simple for me with Gram. No drawing could possibly be enough.

What I’m about to talk about is very personal to me, but the intent isn’t to make it about me. This is merely my way of showing my tremendous respect for and paying homage to a truly beautiful woman who affected me so significantly as a little boy, and later on as a grown, or I should say “growing” man.

I spent the past few days in Washington, DC as a chaperone with my son Ben’s 8^th grade class. With Gram’s health situation the past week, I wasn’t sure if I should go on the trip.  I even called the school principal at one point and told him I would not be going. But, I changed my mind and decided I would accompany the school kids to DC. Gram would want me to.

About 15 minutes into the trip, riding on the bus with the kids, I received a call informing me that Gram had passed. I immediately thought to myself, “Why did I do this? Why did I come on this trip?” But, after thinking it over it became clear to me that Gram wanted me to go. I had told her a long time ago about the trip, so she knew. And, she waited until I was on that bus to DC to start her own journey to Heaven. Gram was watching out for me even in her last moments here.

So, I’ve had a few days to think about Gram. She’s always been “Gram,” but I began to think of her when she was Lona. I thought of her as a young girl, living a life of faith. And, I thought of her as a young woman who would meet and fall in love with Benjamin, also a man of deep faith. I asked Gram once what she missed most about Gramps after he died, and she replied, “His kindness.” How awesome is that? I had to leave the room and go cry.

How happy Gram, Lona, must have been throughout her life, and how blessed she was to recognize and be willing to receive God's amazing Grace so early in life. It was Grace that shaped the very long and meaningful path she walked. That path touched so many, many lives in positive ways.

Gram had literally been there for me every day of my life—in good times and in bad. She comforted me as a child. She took me into her home after I graduated from college when I needed a roof over my head before getting my career started. And, more recently she has been there for me by simply listening to my worries and my joys. A few years ago I called Gram and told her something just didn’t feel right with me. She simply told me, “Change your ways and seek the Lord.” That was Gram. Nothing fancy, no long speech, just basically telling me to find my soul, to find my bliss.

I called Gram almost every day for a long time after that. I was changing as a person and reaching a new level of maturity and faith—finding a new way of looking at life—and it scared me. I think for the first time in my life I was actually growing up. I know God was working on me, and who better on earth to have helping him than Gram. Every day, even when she was in the hospital very ill, she would take my phone calls and listen to me, talk to me, and assure me that everything would be fine. We didn’t solve any of the world’s problems on those calls. We just talked about doing the right things in life, caring for others, trusting God. I really needed Gram’s love then, and her love she freely gave. Once again, she was watching out for me.

During our talks these past couple of years, Gram has said some things to me that I’m sure she would want me to share with others. One thing in particular was “Always be happy, Todd.” The last time I talked to her she asked me if I was happy, and she told me she was happy. Once again, wow! I will do my best, Gram.

I find inspiration in books and music, and when I do I make note of it. I heard a song for the first time recently, and I’m pretty certain that it is written about God. But, several of the lyrics in the song apply to Gram for me. The song is You Raise Me Up by Josh Groban.

‘When I am down and, oh my soul, so weary,

When troubles come and my heart burdened be,

Then, I am still and wait here in the silence,

Until you come and sit awhile with me.

 

You raise me up, so I can stand on mountains;

You raise me up, to walk on stormy seas;

I am strong, when I am on your shoulders;

You raise me up: To more than I can be.’

I’m going to close with another reference to a couple of inspirational lines from a book, one of my favorites, M. Scott Peck’s The Road Less Traveled. There are two lines in the book that really ring true and that I think of often. The very first line of the entire book is “Life is difficult.” I think we all know that very well. The other line in the book that I enjoy is “Ultimately, love is everything.” How true these statements ring, especially in the life of my Gram. Life wasn’t easy for her, but ultimately, Gram’s love was everything. She unselfishly gave love to so many, and she never complained.

Three characteristics define what I believe lead to a fulfilling life.

1)    We must be thankful in all circumstances.

2)    We must be humble.

3)    We must love others.

Gram, you demonstrate all three.

I will see you again some day. Until then, I promise, from the deepest core of my being, that I will give to my children and carry forward to others your thankfulness, your humility and your undying love.

I love you so much, so much. Thank you for your truly amazing grace.

Moments and Peace

Long time no see. I’ve been away from this blog for some time, and I’m continuing to use the excuse that I don’t have enough time in my day to spend some of it here. I know that writing, particularly this blog, brings me a great sense of relief and relaxation, a release. It helps me be still, if that’s even possible with me, and brings me to peace. So, here I am again, writing.

As I sit down to begin writing I really have no intention of opining about any theme whatsoever. I’m just going to let the words flow to see what happens. Each sentence is coming from within in the spur of the moment. Nothing planned. No thought beyond this second. My ego wants me to start thinking beyond this second, this sentence, but I’m fighting that urge. The ego wants me to go straight to the last paragraph, to the last sentence, so I can spend time with him and not here, where I am spending time with me, my soul. I’m winning the battle now -- if only for the duration of this blog.

In the past couple of months I’ve been feeling like my insides are going to erupt. This isn’t a feeling of impending doom or a negative implosion of any sort. However, I feel like I’m on the brink of some type of personal growth spurt. I finished up my master’s degree coursework a couple weeks ago and will walk across the stage to get the diploma next month. And, I very recently learned at work that big changes are in store. I’d like to think that those things are part of the reasons for my angst over what I feel inside. But, those are just circumstances, and they will come … and be gone. No, what is inside is bigger than any circumstance. It’s bigger than something that comes and goes. It’s something that I feel will provide me with a lasting peace of mind that we all seek – the eternal kind.

I have spurts of that type of serenity, but then my ego joins the fray and the conflict is on. I know in my heart that to remove enemies from my life translates directly into the removal of anxiety, so why do I continue to let Mr. E back into my circle so regularly? Perhaps it’s because I trust him and not me. Perhaps it’s because my instincts that were tattered as a child are still frayed and need more mending. Perhaps it’s because I am fearful of letting go because I think the results won’t turn out as I wish.

The irony in that is everything will turn out in a manner in which I have no control. That’s not to say that I can’t be an active participant in my life. But, my job is to do the next right thing and to let the ultimate outcome go. It’s called staying in the moment. The moment that I speak of is gold, baby. When I can get there and stay there my brain soaks me with the natural endorphins that reward me when I am still. Like now, writing this. I am frolicking in that high. It’s like that runner’s high we hear about.

Now, some will argue that staying in the moment and being peaceful and finding serenity is a farce. They point to the rose-colored glasses that are sold in every five-and-dime store, the glasses they claim that peaceful folks place on their face in the morning as soon as they awaken. But, as I noted before, I believe that’s the ego bull-rushing its way into their lives the way it often tries to do so in mine. Get back, jack. No place for you here.

I was recently told to write at least 1,000 words a day no matter how busy I am, and I’m going to do my best to begin heeding that advice. As with this blog, I will have no intention with those words. I will write from my core, my soul. I’ll let the words lead me. I will find happiness in that. The ego won’t like that. But, I will pay him no mention because I’ll be lost, if only for the minutes I spend writing those words, in a sense of peace. I’ll be still. I’ll spend time with me.

I have found that peace right now, in this moment. I’ve just spent the most enjoyable 30 minutes of my day lost in myself writing down these random thoughts. I’m not going to count the words, but I know there are many more than 1,000. I guess anything more than 1,000 brings bonus points/peace. None of these words were planned. None rehearsed. None of the immediate words were looking toward the end result or outcome.  Just me. Word by word. And a fantastic writer’s high.

Peace.