Thinking Out Loud, Volume CCXLVI

I was reading an extremely interesting book, and since we were visiting relatives in central Oklahoma, I decided to go find a place outdoors where I could find some much needed relaxation and do some reading. I found it on a park bench high on a hill overlooking beautiful Lake Eufaula. I would read a while, and then I would put my book down and just gaze out over the horizon at the beautiful countryside that surrounded me. It makes me want to read that book again, if for no other reason, just to bring back the pleasant memories of the two hours I spent up there with my book and my gorgeous surroundings. If you've never been to Lake Eufaula, you should plan a trip up there soon. If you like to fish, there's great fishing...if you like water sports, there's no better place...or if you just like sit back and relax like I did, this is the place for you. I can't wait 'til my next trip up there.

Now, let me tell you about another body of water, but I'm not recommending a trip to this one. I've never actually seen it, but I've read about it, and to be honest with you, there are so many beautiful places in the world that I've never seen, that I would not want to waste my time going to this place, which, according to what I've read, is anything but beautiful. It's found in Israel and Jordan, and it's called The Dead Sea. It is the saltiest body of water on earth, several times more salty than the oceans. It contains no fish, and you'll never see birds flying over. I even read where it emits a very unpleasant odor. It's just not the kind of place I want to visit. Even its name is depressing.

So, if we compare The Dead Sea to Lake Eufaula, why is it that one of them is such a pleasant place while the other is so detestable? I had never even thought to compare the two until I heard a statement from my friend, Jimmy Douglas, but now that I think about it, what he had to say makes a lot of sense. Lake Eufaula is fed by the Canadian River and then, below the dam, the river is fed by the lake. The lake takes the water that it needs and sends the rest on down stream to benefit other communities along its path. Yes, the lake receives, but it also gives back. As for The Dead Sea, there are several streams that flow into it, primarily the Jordan River, but nothing flows out. The statement that my friend made was: "The Dead Sea is such an unpleasant place because it doesn't give...it only receives." Wow! That's it. That's the difference between the two bodies of water. One is a receiver and a giver, while the other is only a receiver, and no one wants to be around the one that is a receiver only.

One thing I've learned is that the same principle that governs those bodies of water also holds true with people. Angie and I were talking just a couple days ago about some friends that we just love to be around, and the one thing that stood out about them is how they are so gracious to those around them. This is the time of year that we celebrate Thanksgiving, and I'm so thankful for my family and friends who fit the description of the ones that I just told you about, but while I'm giving thanks, I also want to add a prayer that I can become that same kind of friend. Lord, don't let me be the kind of person who accepts everything that others have to offer and then moves on to pursue my own interests. Lord, don't allow me to become so full from receiving that I become detestable to those around me. Lord, help me make my decisions based on what's best for society as a whole, and not just my own selfish desires.

As we move out of the Thanksgiving season, we move directly into the season of giving and receiving. This is where my determination to be a giver is tested. How will I do? Will I be like The Dead Sea or Lake Eufaula? We shall see.

Preston

Thinking Out Loud, Volume CCXLV

Have you ever heard of the Broken Windows Theory? I first learned about it when I read a book called "The Tipping Point" by Malcolm Gladwell. Let me give you a little bit of background information that will help me describe what I'm talking about. In the early 1980's, a crime epidemic hit New York City that was the worst in the city's history, and there didn't seem to be an end in sight. One area where it had really gotten out of hand was in the public transportation system, especially the subways; and it was an incident on the subway that brought it national attention. In 1984, a young man named Bernie Goetz stepped onto a subway car, where he was approached by four thugs who demanded money and threatened him with bodily harm if he didn't meet their demands. Goetz put his hand in his pocket, but instead of producing money, he pulled out a revolver and shot all four of them, although I think they all survived. That incident created a national sensation, and it was the final straw that finally convinced city leaders that something had to be done. The gentlemen who were hired to make the subways a safe place again decided to apply the Broken Windows Theory.

An extremely condensed description of that theory is that if there are homes in a neighborhood who have broken windows, and they are left unrepaired, it is then also easier to overlook other problems that need attention, and then criminals will begin to feel that crimes committed there won't receive as much attention from the public or from law enforcement officials. That was the basic condition of the subway system. The cars were in severe need of repair, and the walls, both inside and out, were covered with graffiti. Many of the turnstiles had been purposely gummed up by the bad guys, and it was estimated that there were at least 175,000 passengers per day who were riding without paying the $1.25 fare. Those areas were what they decided to tackle first. They repaired the broken turnstiles and posted security guards at each station to make sure that all passengers paid their fares. They then replaced many of the cars, and repainted and repaired the rest. If someone painted graffiti on one of the cars, it was taken out of service until it could be repainted. What they found out, almost immediately, was that just those small steps that they had taken brought about a drastic reduction in the crime rate, and the additional revenue that came in from all those who had previously been skipping out on their fares paid for the improvements that were made.

That makes me wonder if I could apply the Broken Windows Theory to my own life. What if I dressed just a little bit better for work every day? Would that make me have a little more positive attitude about myself, which would in turn make me a more positive individual overall, resulting in more successes in my business? What if husbands and wives would make a point to hand out just a couple more compliments each day to their spouses? Or what if parents would vow to speak to their kids with a little more positive attitude each day? Or maybe we could make sure we smile and say "good morning" to our co-workers when we first get to work. What if I would resolve to perform just one random act of kindness for a stranger every day? Here's an idea: We could each determine that we're going to think about what we say before we speak, and, at least once a day, instead of speaking our negative thoughts to those around us, we would keep our mouths shut? Just once a day. Would that make a difference?

I may not be able to change the world all by myself, but if I follow those principles that I just mentioned, I can sure make my own little world a much better place to live. I think I may be surprised by how many people will be affected just by the changes I make in myself. It's definitely easier for me to make improvements on myself than it is for me to improve others...but then, when I make myself a better person, it's bound to rub off on someone else...creating a chain reaction. Hey! Maybe we can change the world after all!

Preston

Thinking Out Loud, Volume CCXLIV

If I ever decide that I want to apply for a new job, maybe I should include the word "actor" on my resume'. Then, when the interviewer asks me about it, I will explain it like this: "Sometimes when I'm playing basketball and I make a three point shot, I act like it was no big deal--like it's something I do all the time. And when I win second place in my age group in a race I've run, I am the coolest dude around when I walk up there to receive my trophy." I'm actually quite good at it (acting, that is), even if I have to say so myself.

In a blog that I wrote about a year ago, I talked about the difference between over-reactors and under-reactors, and I placed myself firmly in the center of the under-reactor category. I'm just not one to express a lot of emotion, whether I'm happy, sad, angry or hurt. That doesn't mean that I don't feel any of those emotions, it's just that I hold them inside without letting those around me know exactly what I'm feeling. So, since I'm not one to wear my feelings on my sleeve, I guess I should come right out and tell you about some emotions that I've been trying so hard to hold inside for the last seven months or so. The only reason I'm talking about it now is because I truly feel that I'm starting to make some progress on getting it resolved, and I can point to a short, three hour picnic in the park that had a lot to do with getting me back on track.

Although I don't think I could put a name on the emotions that I felt, I can still remember clearly the feeling that came over me when I learned that my new little baby granddaughter had been born with Down Syndrome. Of course, those who were with me at the time probably said that I took it well...like it didn't even bother me that much. If they only knew! The one thought that has been replayed over and over in my mind is, "It's just not fair! This is her one and only chance at life, and this had to happen. It's not fair! It's just not fair!" Those are my moments of anger, but then the feelings of guilt start to move in as I begin to low-rate myself for having thoughts like that. I must say, though, that there are two different people who are clients of mine who have gone through similar circumstances, and they have really helped me learn to cope as they tell me of their experiences. (I must remember to thank them for encouraging me the way they have.) Through all of my varying emotions that I've been describing, however, there is one that has remained steadfast and unshakable; there are no words that can describe how much I love "my little lady." If you've never had the chance to meet her, I sure hope you get the opportunity really soon. I am one proud "Poppa."

Let me get back to that picnic, because that's what I wanted to tell you about to start with. It was called the "Buddy Walk" and it took place at Kiroli Park in West Monroe. The "Buddy Walk" is an annual event that is designed to raise awareness of Down Syndrome. I'm not sure how many people were there, but it was in the hundreds, and yes, we did walk...one mile. But the walk is a minor part of what takes place. There's a band playing, we have a big picnic, and we basically just mingle and get to know each other. All of the people who came to support our Lennon wore red and black, and we were thrilled beyond measure to see just how many of our friends and family showed up to be a part of "Team Lennon." Everything I've just been describing played a big part in helping me get my attitude pointed back in the right direction, but the biggest factor of all...the one that really "changed" me, was the big group of Down Syndrome kids who were there. One of them said the opening prayer, and another led us all in The Pledge. Then, after we had walked and everyone had eaten their fill, several of them wanted to dance...and dance they did, until the band stopped playing. Yes, there were emotions on exhibit there, but they didn't even resemble the ones that I had been trying so hard to conceal. The one emotion that I saw more than any other was "happiness." That's what turned me around.

I can't sit here and tell you that I'm now totally "out of the woods," but I can see the light at the end of the tunnel and I'm heading in that direction as fast as I can go. Though Lennon is still too young to fully understand, I love her more than life itself, and she's gonna be the luckiest girl alive...just because I'm her Poppa...I'm gonna see to it.

Preston

Thinking Out Loud, Volume CCXLIII

I heard a little story that I thought was somewhat amusing, but it also started my wheels turning as I got to thinking about what it really means. There was a particular Indian tribe that had developed quite a reputation because of their success with the rain dance. Word had traveled far and wide about how, if you need rain, you should call on this tribe, because, when they dance, it rains. Finally, one newspaper reporter got lucky enough to land an interview with the chief, and the first thing he said to the old leader was, "I've heard so much about what good rain dancers you have in your tribe, and what everyone all around the country wants to know is, how do you do it? Are there some secrets about how you dance that make you more successful?" The old chief thought a minute, then replied, "No...no secrets. We just dance 'til it rains." There's one little phrase that comes to my mind as I think about that story: "Perception is reality."

Those of you who know me or have read several of my blogs will know by now that I'm a marathoner. Running 26.2 miles is quite a challenge, and it requires weeks and weeks of intense training, which we do four mornings a week, every week. Our most common starting time is 5:30 AM...which means that we're out running before the sun comes up. We know that if there are going to be some hills in the marathon, then it is much better for us if we do some of our training on hilly terrain. One thing that we've talked about that seems to make our training a little easier is if we can hit the worst hills before daylight, we can't see them as well, and they're easier to climb. Those hills are just as high and just as steep at night as they are in the daytime, but there's just something about seeing them that puts these negative thoughts in our minds that this is going to be tough...and when we think it's going to be tough, it is.

Now, with that in mind, I just had a whole new revelation concerning the hill training. When we're actually running in the marathon, we never run while it's still dark...it's always broad daylight, and we can see those hills clearly. Too clearly. And they're scary. That leads me to ask this question, "Would a blind runner have an easier time in the hills?" Probably. Fortunately, none of the runners in our group are blind, so we need to come up with another solution. Here's what I've come up with: During our training, we need to see the hills. We need to prove to ourselves that we have what it takes to conquer them, then when we face the hills during the actual run, we won't feel so intimidated. I'm willing to try anything that makes us believe that those hills are easier to climb.

Maybe we should do a hill dance. The first time we try it, we may not be able to notice much of a difference, but I'll bet if we dance every day before we do the hill training, and do it four days a week, those hills will eventually become easier to climb. That should work with just about any area of our lives. One man was telling me about some over the counter medication he would take when he got the flu. He said it was guaranteed to have him well in just seven days, but when he didn't take it, he sometimes had the flu for a whole week. I used to sell some titanium filled necklaces that were supposed to give additional energy to athletes, so I tried one of them during one of my long runs. The next week, I ran without it. I couldn't tell any difference, but, I have to admit, I was skeptical before I ever tried them. I understand that some of my friends who believed in them from the start received a lot more benefit from them than I did. I did look pretty cool while I was wearing it though...at least that's what I believed, and, after all, perception is reality.

Preston