“The secret to getting ahead is getting started.” ― Mark Twain

• Over half of recent college graduates report that they would not work at a place that did not offer a work-life balance.
• 64% believe that 5-day work weeks are outdated
• 67% think that 9-5 working hours are a thing of the past
• 59% report that having to relocate for a job is an antiquated practice
• Recent college graduates have higher rates of underemployment (working in jobs that don’t require college degree) when compared with all college graduates

This is the end of the semester. Arrives just like Christmas every year. There is a buzz of anticipation for those preparing to graduate and launch into the next chapter. Some into the mysterious job market. Others planning more learning with graduate school. There are also first year students with that look of relief – they’ve made it off “survivor island” and most have figured it out. The big lesson was figuring themselve out. Sometimes it takes several years to learn that lesson. It did for me. What about you?

It’s my impression that college graduates today are starting life with several critical obstacles:

• They have difficulty reading for understanding
• Social skills with groups are especially challenging
• Writing in ways that express critical thinking is even more unpracticed – an AI can do it for you…

Last week I performed a wedding for a recent graduate. He’s now a police officer here in Houston. His new wife is a nurse. Talk about starting life with stressful occupations. You’d never know it as they were beaming the biggest smiles I’ve ever seen that evening. All the mess and stress just disappeared as they started their happiness. I always encourage their family and friends sitting back watching to jump in and not leave the new couple hanging. Help them succeed and but know when to get out of the way as they launch their new lives.

I’m always trying to coach college students with advice, small and big about their futures – even when to show up for the final. I didn’t get any when I was their age and really made a mess so often. When I graduated from college I also got married. Life changed dramatically all at once. I was like a zombie that someone (my wife) was pointing in the right direction. That’s what makes me feel an obligation to do something for young people these days. I sure could have used some wise words from further down the road.

“I believe that what we become depends on what our fathers teach us at odd moments, when they aren’t trying to teach us. We are formed by little scraps of wisdom.” ― Umberto Eco

Sometimes parents don’t want to give advice to young couples. That’s not smart. You just need to learn how to do it the right way – your spouse can help you manage your delivery. I always require new couples to go through counseling before they get married. Their forever future is worth the work and effort. Don’t you think starting out your marriage and/or career with a supportive network can be crucial to survival? My advice is always to get connected with a group in your local church. There are so many ways others can help save your life when the boat starts to sink.

“Be willing to be a beginner every single morning.” ― Meister Eckhart

If you could go back in time and give advice to that younger you, what would it be? Would you even listen when you were that age? Some lessons need to be experienced – you can’t hear about it from others. There are hardships in life that could and should be avoided if we just knew better. Seems like people just starting out should learn about:

• Managing your money
• Marriage/relationship mistakes
• Making good/bad impressions when it matters
• The right/wrong people in your life matter

What would you add to the list? Now that you’ve launched in so many ways, what has experience taught you? What can you pass on to someone else in your circle?

 

“You don’t have to say everything to be a light. Sometimes a fire built on a hill will bring interested people to your campfire.” ― Shannon L. Alder

It was a cool evening tonight. Rare in Houston. The sun was sneaking under the distant covers and leaving a beautiful trail of orange and pink. I had jumped up, put on a hat and grabbed my walking stick. Don’t miss a perfect time to move, count some steps, clear the cobwebs, say some prayers – there are so many to be spoken these days.

Just over the levee across the street, I saw them approaching a house. It seemed like no one was home. My walk had just started, but as I got nearer, I began to hope I’d get to have a conversation with these neighborhood visitors. Just like that, before I could think about a plan, the leader of the trio spotted me (it was dusk) and marched right over and started the “pitch.”

Before he could really get going I hollered out to them “how’s the mission going tonight?” They were a little taken aback. I told them, in those classic Mormon “uniforms” anyone could spot them a mile away. I introduced myself as someone who studies religion – like theirs – professionally as a sociologist. That’s my specialty. I also worked in my Southern Baptist background with a little history. Remember, even Mormon missionaries aren’t immune from my talking too much these days.

They weren’t riding bikes, it’s now too dangerous, I was told. Houston has become so diverse; these young high school graduates were learning Mandarin. Back at their church (here in Sugar Land) English language classes were being offered to new immigrants. They seemed just as enthusiastic as any young Mormons I’ve met over the past 40 years.

I think we mostly talked about BYU and the Big 12, their own college plans after the two-year mission is complete, and the overtime Baylor loss to BYU up in Provo in 2022. I was invited to church with them – hard to do when I’m teaching a class at my own church. I told them that in the past I had missionaries come to my church and visa versa. I shared that I was moving soon, they offered to help, giving me a card with a phone number (written in Chinese).

The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints would prefer that you call their members “saints” but have recently stopped resisting the norm that Christian society has developed over the past two hundred years – calling them “Mormons.” Do you remember, we came close in 2012 to having our first Mormon president?

Have you noticed that the Jehovah’s Witnesses have stopped knocking on doors Saturday mornings? Instead, a new strategy is to send handwritten letters in the mail. For me, it’s very interesting to talk to people who knock on my door about their religious indoctrination and to observe their tactics. I told the missionaries tonight that almost everyone, even those in religiously free America, don’t pick their own faith but generally share the same beliefs in which they’ve been raised.

“Religious liberty might be supposed to mean that everybody is free to discuss religion. In practice it means that hardly anybody is allowed to mention it.” ― G.K. Chesterton

Anyway, these young men probably didn’t get the training to deal with a character like me tonight. A little old man in his shorts out for a walk. Someone who probably knew more about their religion than they did. Someone who talked too much. Someone not in a hurry to get away. Someone who was not defensive at all, eager to listen and curious about their own individual futures. Someone who promised to pray for them as he departed – who probably should have stopped them right there on that driveway and prayed for all of us.

“Certain thoughts are prayers. There are moments when, whatever be the attitude of the body, the soul is on its knees.” ― Victor Hugo

All of us have had or will have these kinds of experiences

The past few months have been focused on packing up and getting rid of possessions that I don’t think I need anymore.  It sounds a little gruesome, but I got a book entitled, “The Gentle Art of Swedish Death Cleaning.” I was attracted to it because it seemed to promise strategies to help rid me of a lifetime of clutter. So much that no one in my tiny family is interested in inheriting. I’m feeling very  liberated as I turn loose of more and more.

A very large part of this packing up as been centered on my two libraries. I have one at work and another at home. I though getting rid of almost 150 banker’s boxes of books would be easy. What was I thinking? Where did all these books come from? I think to myself as I stand there reading through a forgotten find. No wonder this is taking so long.

From my office at school, which needs to be vacated in May, I have hauled almost 100 of those boxes back home. Each day as I arrive, hoping for a close parking space, I work a little bit on my disappearing act. In the Fall I had a parking lot “book giveaway” for students. That was great for me – passing on from my ministry related shelves to young students. Now, everyone who comes into the office leaves with a book or two or three or…

Passing on a handful here or there to other students is soul satisfying. At home, I’m always searching for someone who likes to read what I’ve collected over the years. I’ve had some luck. Years ago I packed away a box full of Tarzan paperbacks to pass on to my grandson – my own grandfather had started me on them. Many don’t read books any more, preferring to stare at a screen. Maybe I’m getting out at just the right time?

“Anyone who has lost something they thought was theirs forever finally comes to realise that nothing really belongs to them.” ― Paulo Coelho

Passing it all on to just the right people

Most of my libraries (and other possessions) have been passed on each week to the veterans organization that comes to my door and faithfully and picks up the boxes I have stacked up. It’s been a great service for me, perfect timing, and little by little, my long life of reading and collecting has disappeared.

It was a thrill to pass on our baby bed – which held my daughter and both grandchildren. An expecting family came over and packed it away in their truck. Another young family came and took the rocking chair we had used. That gives me a better satisfaction than a mysterious donation would have.

“The more material we lose, the less we have. The less we have, the more we win.” ― Anthony Liccione

Contemplating a move to somewhere much smaller, I need to get rid of a lot of furniture. Most is old and worthless but full of memories. For the past handful of years I’m only using a room or two in the house now. In all my years, I’ve never had a garage with less junk in it. I’m awaiting some award to come in the mail. As I go through boxes that have been sealed up for decades, I’m finding all sorts of treasures. Some, I’m passing on to others. So much I had forgotten about. Memories that bring up happiness and longing for those days when we were all so skinny.

Each day I review all that I’ve done on my journey toward “death cleaning” this house I’ve been in for almost 30 years. I’m happy that there’s something to check off the list. Always another step forward. So very satisfying. Something else that needs to be left behind has disappeared. That garage de-junked and my slow slide toward clutter free sainthood a tiny bit further along.

This feeling of accomplishment has another side to it

“Despite your best efforts, people are going to be hurt when it’s time for them to be hurt.” ― Haruki Murakami

To be honest, there are two sides of this experience. All that deep satisfaction and accomplishment because real goals are being met. Items checked off the list. Procrastination bred by too much contemplation and uncertainty defeated. But, on the other side of that brightly lit cloud, there’s something else. It seems like I’m also losing my grip on what represents my own life. A house with empty shelves and only photos. On a beautiful day with bright sun and cool breeze, I walk across a campus I put my life into for decades and in a few weeks, this will vanish and I will become that stranger in a strange land.

“Mostly it is loss which teaches us about the worth of things.” ― Arthur Schopenhauer

As I walk through this house I lived in, raised my daughter in and watched my wife take her last breath in – I can’t help but feel a profound loss. There’s no question that I’m ready to get on the ship and sail away to my next chapter in life. But when something goes out the door there’s subtle sense that I’m losing something important that I’ll never find again. A nostalgia that just flavors all of our lives as we age and transition. These hard days will pass. They always do, but they leave a trail.

I’m losing so much of who I used to be

Much of this is junky and cheap furniture that I’m trying to get rid of. It reminds me of years gone by, when we were broke, creative and working so hard to build our new lives. Each piece sort of represents something in my mind. My soon to be wife ran off and bought a very cheaply made China cabinet at a garage sale before our wedding. We redecorated it but never replaced it with something more worthy. I just got rid of it. But felt a little like I’d betrayed something sacred about our past. I’m sitting here looking at the empty spot where it was.

Discovering all the old files, boxes and dusty packages I’d forgotten about. Passing on to family and friends something magic. I found two old photos from high school and immediately mailed to a dear friend from way back when, sharing that happy moment caught on film. I do feel like I’m on a treasure hunt as I sort through all this forgotten matter in the back of drawers and closets. Sacred memories of ancient days and dearest ones who’ve traveled to heaven. There’s that nostalgia again.

I’ve got a saying hanging on my wall at home. I read it each day as I pass by:

IT IS WHAT IT IS

So much has changed in my life over the past eight years. I would never have predicted this ride. When I thought one gut-wrenching turn was surely the end, another soon came. What’s true is that I’ve had people on the ride with me all along, never alone. God held my hand in the dark. What else is true is that I have memories that have made my life filled with wonder. This is a treasure I can’t lose.

“Give sorrow words; the grief that does not speak knits up the o-er wrought heart and bids it break.” ― William Shakespeare

There’s room now for the next me to come together.

Being a grandparent that is!

I had another wonderful grandparent experience recently. These rare days are always the best part of my current journey. But, each time I wave goodbye I’m torn. Spending time with my grandchildren is like a miracle cure to whatever is currently ailing me.  How can I put this in a bottle? I have two and they are each different people each time I’m with them. BUT… as the vehicle drives away, this almost immediate wave of physical exhaustion invades my whole mind, body and soul. I go from mountaintop to needing a fast B12 infusion.

“The simplest toy, one which even the youngest child can operate, is called a grandparent.” ― Sam Levenson

This is difficult for me to figure out. In my past, I spent years as a youth minister. Taking teens to summer camps, retreats and overnight experiences. I even got in trouble one time by an aged pastor who wanted me to be in the office M-F, 9-5. He hadn’t really thought through the strange hours working with youth required. It never seemed to bother me. I was always ready to go without much sleep and energized for the next physical, emotional and spiritual mountaintop.

Which now makes me wonder, when did all my vavoom leak out?

Maybe it’s because, when we are together, we get up very early. My grandson arises before the son, taps me on the forehead and is ready to start watching something on a screen. Used to be a Disney film, then Paw Patrol, now it’s monster trucks. My granddaughter isn’t in a crib anymore. If we’re not quiet, she too get’s up early and joins us in bed, watching something fun. Very early.

“In preparing for battle I have always found that plans are useless, but planning is indispensable.” ― Dwight D. Eisenhower

Several years ago, trying to avoid the catering duties I am called on to perform, I started bringing breakfast items to bed the night before. All ready for an early, early morning. So, when their parents arise, hours later, they find the kids and I all under the blanket, with the glow of a screen on our faces, munching cereal and sipping from juice boxes. I’m still yawning and wiping sleep from my eyes. We’ve had a full morning already.

It’s now a week later and I’m still finding Apple Jacks in my bed.

Maybe it’s because, they’ve each got their own quickly changing agenda. I can put together a well designed plan, but attention spans being what they are at those ages (3 and 7), my well crafted strategies for fun often don’t last much past the first few tries. By the time I make it down to the floor to start the game, they are each up and off to the next new attraction. All the bits and pieces scattered about. I’m not going to tell you how long it sometimes takes me to get back up off the floor…

We try to go for walks these days. Getting out of the house, away from so many distractions, a perfect setting for questions and conversations. There are ducks on the water, birds in the trees, dogs barking, leaves to be picked up, bike riders to step back from, and another sun setting through the clouds. Lot’s of energy to burn off. Everyone has their own walking stick to poke and prod with. Props make everything more fun. Long walks with children should be required for all adults. It helps to put so much else into perspective.

“History begins at ground level, with footsteps.” ― Michel de Certeau

Maybe it’s because I’m not following directions. I’m all ready for each visit with all the sugary treats that makes eyes glow with joy. Mom is ready with a frown and a big NO. They are each always hungry and thirsty for something. I need to have a lot of fruit, milk and snacks. Who wants plain old, plain old? So much junk food and candy produces bouncing off the wall and even shorter attention. I guess it can be like an old fashioned punk rock concert minus the music. I’m too busy chasing to notice.

My three-year-old picks up everything in reach. Mostly all the framed photos I have everywhere. She’s delighted to see herself and all the other faces in her family. She wants to share the joy by handing out large framed pictures to everyone in the room. I’ve noticed with them, everything ends up on the floor. To be honest, I enjoy all these leftovers of their exuberance. Even scattered on the floor. In the days after they’ve left, I wander through the carnage. There are fingerprints galore, an FBI field day. Who decided it was a good idea to have black kitchen countertops, after wiping it all down for the third time that morning. The mom who invented those cannisters of wipes and packets of wet-wipes was a genius!

“My theory on housework is, if the item doesn’t multiply, smell, catch fire, or block the refrigerator door, let it be. No one else cares. Why should you?” ― Erma Bombeck

My own grandparents were well integrated into my life growing up. Not taking us on trips to Disneyland or throwing theme parties. They were present in the dozens of simple everyday activities. Their house was a safe place where we could grow up, learn and become ourselves. I was the oldest and most misbehaved. Living with a second home was all I knew, didn’t everyone have grandparents like this?

What were your role models like?

That’s the kind of grandparent I have intended to be – as involved as possible in the simple everyday practices of life. It’s taken too long for me to realize, but that’s going to take much more advance planning on my part. Like how to get back up off the floor!

 

“As technology advances in complexity and scope, fear becomes more primitive.” ― Don DeLillo

I’m back at the car dealership. My OnStar works on some days, on other days it doesn’t. Usually it’s decided not to work when I need directions late at night in deep dark downtown Houston or when I’ve got a flat tire. I have already spent three days here with the experts assessing the vehicle computer, ordering the right new part and then installing it. I have to go back to start all over again because the new part is defective. Technology is our liberator and our enslaver – all at once.

In the dealership waiting room we all have to watch the now overly formulaic house flipping television programs. My eyes are rolling back in my head. Customizing a dilapidated house has become a quick fix (with a quick crisis for some drama) that fits into 30 minutes. We long for this kind of predictability but when our technology fails us and the formula won’t produce life’s answer, we get stuck without knowing how to move forward. That’s the real problem.

They have now installed a giant vehicle scanner that I am to drive through (like a carwash) when I come to the dealership for service. When I was growing up, to make extra money on the side, vehicles were repaired in our driveway all night long. The sights, sounds and smells are imbedded in my growing up memory. As I drifted off to sleep, I could hear that power socket wrench whining away. As I drove through that space age sensory device last week, I couldn’t help but remember how simple so much was in my own distant past.

That’s all Dark Ages now. When we first moved to Sugar Land 30 years ago, our auto repair guy told us that just to open the hood would cost $100. All the technology in vehicles required layers and layers of specialization. Up on a jack, late at night, in your driveway fifty years ago is impossible now. Buy my vehicle can tell me when its tire pressure is low!

Recently I spent three days communicating with a customer service technician in India to get my laptop back in working order. After a normal update, it crashed. My contact was very helpful, but it took a long time to get me back to working order. These rare events remind me how dependent I have become on technology to do my job. Learning today has become so dependent on a digital experience.

My wife and daughter were/are digital learning experts. Their everyday mission is to help educators navigate this ever changing landscape and make sure it remains a working tool – not the other way around, a tail wagging the dog. They each love/d guiding others through the confusing dark woods and into the bright light of learning new skills. I’m so blessed to have entered the new frontier with these two. I wish I was a better student! Too often I wait until my hair is on fire. 

“Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic.” ― Arthur C. Clarke

As each semester starts I approach my new classrooms with fear. Will the technology work or not? Will I be able to plug in and go with what I’ve got planned? It’s usually hit and miss. The real point is that I’ve become so dependent on my “PowerPoint karaoke set-up” that I don’t really have a Plan B in my back pocket. That’s my problem that I need to solve. I don’t like to do all the talking in classes. I like to use technology to trigger discussion and learning. When my plan is working…

In my Bible Study class this week, for some reason, I couldn’t get my laptop to hook up and “present” on the television screen. Like it does faithfully every week. I turned it off and on, plugged and unplugged, tried to update, even stood on one foot. All of a sudden, the connection happened. Like a three loaves and two fishes miracle. All went according to plan. The whole time I’m trying to figure out my Plan B. Using technology has become a fun new addition to our class each week. But now, I’m very dependent. How does that happen to us?

When we all crossed that river into technology oriented courses I learned the difference between digital immigrants and digital natives. I was an immigrant, my students were natives. I still know just enough to survive, not really enough to thrive. I always resist putting the cart before the horse. Lessons sometimes get lost with too many bells and whistles. I promise, I’m not being a grump.

Do you know that high school students where I am no longer read books in their classes? When they get to college they have real difficulty understanding how to read based on that kind of format. Their instructors assume experience they probably don’t have. It’s a “technology” they don’t know how to work, they’re becoming literary immigrants.

The Atlantic: The Elite College Students Who Can’t Read Books

“To have faith is to trust yourself to the water. When you swim you don’t grab hold of the water, because if you do you will sink and drown. Instead you relax, and float.”  ― Alan Wilson Watts

• I just flew across the country using my phone to access all the critical information necessary.
• Paid a doctor’s bill without ever having to find my checkbook (what’s that anyway?)
• Received payments from friends (from all over) for football tickets this Fall. Put it in the bank, click, click, click

What’s the point of all this? My point here is not to rant but to reflect. Our technology has liberated our lives and at the same time it has enslaved us in many new ways. Especially difficult for those of us who are stuck between transitional shifts. I’ve got to go now and figure out how to file my taxes online this year…do we still have an IRS?

“Our civilization is first and foremost a civilization of means; in the reality of modern life, the means, it would seem, are more important than the ends. Any other assessment of the situation is mere idealism.” ― Jacques Ellul

I’m not doing well with following that old warning. Talking way too often with strangers these days. Almost anyone I pass by. Doesn’t matter where I am. Nothing really important to communicate. Very casual. Just some sort of need to connect.

Is this something that happens to us as we age?

No one at home. I think I run errands and half the reason is for human contact. I talk with everyone all along the way. Even out in the parking lot. I remember having a whole conversation with a lady at the Pearland HEB about her watermelon as she was coming out and I was going in. Must have just read something about how to pick out the ripe ones. I tend to use the same corny lines with the check-out people. I need better writers. Sounding like a very tired vaudeville hack. They are always nice to me, but I can tell I stopped being funny several years ago.

For me and my situation, there are fewer and fewer people at work to talk with. I have classes of students.  A handful are interested in real conversations. When I was in college, I can’t imagine what I would have said to a professor. Mostly, I’m walking back and forth to class each day trying to smile and say something to students I pass by. I don’t know any of them (hardly). Just something light and harmless. More difficult because two-thirds have got technology in their ears. Easy to ignore the silly old guy with the hat.

“. . .sometimes one feels freer speaking to a stranger than to people one knows. Why is that? Probably because a stranger sees us the way we are, not as he wishes to think we are.”  ― Carlos Ruiz Zafón

The lady at the dry cleaners who’s still wearing a mask is always ready for small talk. Especially when it’s not someone complaining. I still find it hard to interact with the mask. Can’t read the expressions. That’s why young people today are more clumsy with social interactions. They grew up using phones, not real faces. Didn’t learn how to interpret body language and create their own social selves in the process.

I use an old fashioned “mom and pop” pharmacy. They hire kids to work the counter and now, after so many years (including cancer), I know all the pharmacists. I visit only a few times a month, but there’s always something to connect about when I do. In high school, my best friends from church and I worked at a drug store. That was at least 100 years ago.  But, as I look back, it was invaluable life experience. Learning by practice, how to to talk with the much older adults who worked there.

“The real in us is silent; the acquired is talkative.” ― Khalil Gibran

If I end up going out to eat – I want to insert some conversation that humanizes the experience with all those serving. Even those bussing the table. As a social scientist, I know that often there are people working all around us that we never even see. Can you imagine how that must feel, being in a service occupation, but no one really knows you’re there – until the bathroom runs out of TP. While in college, I worked as a waiter. The more entertaining I could be, the better the tips were. The hardest workers were the dishwashers. No one ever really saw them either.

Don’t forget to be kind to strangers, for some who have done this have entertained angels without realizing it!  – Hebrews 13:2

When I am with friends or co-workers, I talk waaaay too much. It’s like I was just released from solitary confinement or something. Sometimes I can see people glancing at the door to my office, trying to plan their escape. I can’t seem to stop. I look in the mirror and tell myself, “keep your mouth shut this time.” So far, isn’t working. I need to get a little statue of St. John the Silent (454-558 AD) and put in front of me as a reminder. This saint lived alone for 76 years! I thought I had it bad. He probably didn’t even have a good internet connection.

Casual connections with strangers is healthy for me personally and for society in general. I guess I’m doing my part. Those teenagers running the concession stand at the football games seem terrified each time I ask “how’s business?” I think they are just prepared for “small, medium or large” answers. I’d like to do my part to engage a disengaging world. What can I do today to keep myself from curling up under a bridge as my life keeps coming apart? No matter how high the waves or loud the thunder, keep swimming for the shore.

“A stranger is just a friend I haven’t met yet” ― Will Rogers

 

 

“What does love look like? It has the hands to help others. It has the feet to hasten to the poor and needy. It has eyes to see misery and want. It has the ears to hear the sighs and sorrows of men. That is what love looks like.” ― Augustine of Hippo (354-430 AD)

My faith teaches me that the way to really experience life is to live as a dead man walking. When that happens as a habit, all kinds of disappointments and angst don’t drive me so nuts as I’ve been lately. Here’s what I notice happens (and doesn’t):

• Less lonely, looking outward, not inward (I put names of others on my mirrors)
• MY feelings don’t get bent out of shape
• Not thinking about getting, it’s about giving
• How to be a channel of blessing, not a stock tank, saving up
• Stop talking about beliefs, start doing ’em
• When dead, that means the whole resume has to go (get it?)

“Give up yourself, and you will find your real self. Lose your life and you will save it.” – C. S. Lewis

I’m living in a culture that surrounds me with a selfish ethic. A marketplace of need is necessary to drive an economy of more and more. So much time shopping for the au courant fashions, downloading the most popular music, visiting the new cool restaurant. Trying to convince me that what I want is what I need.

The more I think about it, the more I realize I’m thinking about me waaaay too much. Certain to me too unhappy. What about… Trying to figure out how to solve the problem of that student who’s joined the class weeks late because of some sort of financial problem, who’s stuck sitting on the back row, squinting to see the screen, taking notes on an itty-bitty notepad, failing the open-note quiz…what can I do to fix some of THAT? Doing more of THAT is how I live a better life. Without even thinking about it.

“Do you often feel like parched ground, unable to produce anything worthwhile? I do. When I am in need of refreshment, it isn’t easy to think of the needs of others. But I have found that if, instead of praying for my own comfort and satisfaction, I ask the Lord to enable me to give to others, an amazing thing often happens – I find my own needs wonderfully met. Refreshment comes in ways I would never have thought of, both for others, and then, incidentally, for myself.” ― Elisabeth Elliot

“We must be willing to let go of the life we planned so as to have the life that is waiting for us.” ― Joseph Campbell

Over the years, I’ve taken those personality tests that organizations provide for their members. The goal is to help people work more effectively and in coordinated teams. As my work environments and situations have changed, I like to retake these tests. We all grow and evolve with the dynamics of the work world where we spend most of our time.  One of my strengths that stays consistent is a talent for accumulating information – in many forms. One for me is books. Over the past thirty years I have put together two libraries – one at home and one at my office. Both for different purposes.

I’ve recently been pushed into a new chapter of life. In the context of a series of tremendous changes in my life during the past five years. When is this roller coaster ride going to end? Right now, the big changes I face are leaving work and selling my house. These have been my homes for thirty years.

So much help from a veterans organization! They contact me and a truck comes and picks up boxes of donations. Each week if I request it. A big part of that weekly donation has been boxes of books. My libraries are quickly disappearing.

I’ve had “book fairs” in the parking lot, giving away books to students. People who stop by my office often leave with a box of books that fit their journey. I locate books that are meant to be passed on to someone special. Colleagues have “shopped” their way through my office shelves. Students in grad school always need some additions to their emerging libraries. Some friends share the same taste in fiction. It’s a joy to pass on a whole series by a much loved author.

I feel happy and satisfied when I’ve found a new home for some of my books among friends and students. Accomplishing the larger goal of lessening the burden of possessions that must be carried off to the little “van down by the river” also brings me great relief. Bit by bit I’m getting closer to where I’m going. Wherever that might be.

But the whole activity is bittersweet.

All of my thirty years of collecting is disappearing, book after book, one box at a time. I jumped up twice this weekend to find books I know I had, but they were no longer here. I couldn’t find the answers or the memory I once had. We age and lose our thoughts. Mine are also passing out the door in cardboard boxes.

“Good night, good night! Parting is such sweet sorrow, That I shall say good night till it be morrow” – Juliet

I still have many more to give away. What do you like to read? No one in my family will touch a book. They’re trapped in digital screens. I have much you could learn from – get a degree or two even. What about some history or mystery? I think I’ve passed on most of my religion, theology and devotionals. There’s a big bookcase here in my bedroom filled with volumes I have yet to read. These I’m saving for the road ahead. Maybe there will be a tree next to that “van down by the river” where I can sit and work my way through each one.

“Books are the quietest and most constant of friends; they are the most accessible and wisest of counselors, and the most patient of teachers.”  ― Charles W. Eliot

“Winter is the time for comfort, for good food and warmth, for the touch of a friendly hand and for a talk beside the fire: it is the time for home.” ― Edith Sitwell

We’ve just had several “snow days” down here in the deep South. Very unusual. We are more used to Hurricane warning days, high water alerts or (this year) a derecho wind storm wreaking havoc in downtown Houston.

If you have children in the house, a snow day means some unexpected adventures. I saw pictures of friends and family who had their kids out sledding and putting up miniature snowmen. An unexpected day of adventure. Maybe something we all need now and again. Wouldn’t it feel great to throw off the cares of life for a quick sled down a snow covered hill (on a boogie board)?

I awoke to sounds of my house creaking in the bitter cold during the middle of the night. Please pipes, don’t burst! Thanksgiving as me and most of my potted plants survived. Like the guy on that TV commercial likes to say, our houses down here are just not made for really cold weather. The Texas power grid seems to have stayed up and running. Snow on the ground, covering up everything and made the whole street seem like a scene from a dream. No one even noticed all the HOA violations.

And just like that, within days, the weather is back to normal here on the Texas coast. Freezes happen just once a year, to kill off your plants and make you have to dig around for that big coat buried somewhere.

An unexpected lock down always means new time to allocate to something else – no heading off to work, school or other travels.

• Even more TV
• Get some work from home projects done
• Spend time with the kids
• Write a blog
• It’s too cold to clean up the garage
• Hopefully Christmas has already been put up??

Seems like something extraordinary needs to happen in my day after day to get me to stop and smell the roses – or at least notice where they even are. I so often miss what the “snow days” can offer. Caught up in all the busy-ness that actually doesn’t really matter in the long run. When I think about what does matter, I too often miss it because of the cares of life and the tyranny of the urgent.

“When you have once seen the glow of happiness on the face of a beloved person, you know that a man can have no vocation but to awaken that light on the faces surrounding him. In the depth of winter, I finally learned that within me there lay an invincible summer.” ― Albert Camus

I’m going to try and have a “snow day” more often:

• Take more walks – as short as two minutes after meal has health benefits!
• Lose my phone – stop frittering away my attention surplus
• Write stuff down in my Commonplace notebook – then stop worrying
• Send a few thank you notes – there’s always someone who needs to know
• Turn off the TV – maybe some music instead
• Sit down and look through some old photos – reinvest in my memory banks
• Take a drive to nowhere, windows down – no longer being “driven” by the schedule

What are you planning for your next snow day?