Rites Of Passage?

I attended a rite of passage last week, a baptism, and it set me to thinking about transitions and rites of passage. Many are associated with the passage from one phase of life into the next. In Catholicism, baptism serves as a rite of passage—the entry into membership in the church. Confirmation and the Last Rites mark a passage into adulthood, and the passage out of this life, respectively. For each religion, there appear to be comparable events—bar mitzvahs, for example. But rites of passage are not limited to religious observations.

In college, there was hazing of new freshmen, the school I attended discontinued "Freshmen Week" the year before I arrived. I am not making this up, among other indignities; freshmen were required to wear beanies of some offensive color. Fraternities and sororities have (or had, depending on who you talk to) devoted many hours to pledging, which included a rigorous period of assorted trials, including the practice of hazing. I am told that basic and infantry training in the military use the outside pressure exerted by a drill sergeant to build unit cohesion. These latter examples represent initiation into a group. The relative difficulty of obtaining actual passage is somehow said to represent the exclusivity of the organization, and thus, the prestige that comes with belonging. Did these rites of passage make the process of transition easier or more meaningful?

Later in life, things like initiation were replaced by plain old money. Golf clubs, country clubs and more fit this latter category. Social clubs will usually have periodic dues, then a small initiation fee. But the emotional ties forged in group hazing seemed to exert a cohesive force on participants that money cannot replace.

But are there still rites of passage in the stages of life for individuals after they have entered adulthood? People joke about the so-called mid-life crisis, but are there ritual events that are associated with entering middle age? For those who bore their children while in their 20's, empty-nest syndrome coincides with entry into middle age. The term "mid-life crisis" was coined in 1965 by a Canadian psychotherapist named Elliott Jaques, and it referred to the realization of one's own mortality and the notion that one's life was more than half over. While the term enjoyed some popularity as an explanation for unusual responses to changes later in adulthood, psychological research had concluded by the 1980's that fewer than 10 percent of adults experienced one. It is said that men begin to question their lives based on career success (or failure) and relative satisfaction with the rewards thereof, while women do so on the basis of their relationships, and the quality thereof. But beyond the apocryphal stories about men suddenly buying a red sports car or the woman suddenly seeking out designer clothes intended for a much younger person, there seem to be no rites of passage. In fact, given the low incidence of "crisis" in most adults, those stories are more fun in fiction than in real life. My sense is that many adults go through a period of reflection and growth that sometimes will lead them to make changes in their lives without a crisis.

On the crest of another life transition—the ending of a career and the beginning of "I-don't-know-what"—I am wondering if this latest time of self-realization and growth could benefit from some rites of passage? How about a trip around the world, or the country? Or maybe a year of study abroad (like some college students have). Or, more realistically, a year spent exploring a path not taken, until now—any path?

I'll go get my beanie.

Keep Your Heart Above Your Head

My guess is that some of you out there are country music fans; I know my oldest brother is, and I never could figure why he and all the rest of you are. Today I may be a bit closer to understanding it. So, you all probably knew about Zac Brown before last week, which is when I ran across him. I was raised on soul and rock and roll, so the closest I got to country music was when Jimmy Buffett lost his bearings and sailed into the world of country music with Alan Jackson and (you guessed it) Zac Brown. Anyway a good friend and I have been having a little discourse on open hearts and intellectualism. The question is how to open your heart to everything in life, accepting the good and the bad, without over-thinking it all. This friend has helped me understand it, with a little help from Zac Brown. Zac wrote a song relating his father's advice to him—I'll borrow three lines from his piece, "Let It Go,"—
Save your strength for things that you can change, and forget the ones you can't...
My sense is that many of us spend time over-thinking the past, which cannot be changed, and the actions and statements of others—which you have only a limited chance to influence, so forget about intellectually understanding, or explaining, or rationalizing. Just let them go.
Keep your heart above your head, and your eyes wide open, so this world can't find a way to leave you cold.
So, how do you know what to do in life, when you face decisions, choices, and more? I am certain of one thing, you can't think your way into making up your mind. You make decisions with your heart. Oh, you can think about it, and you can create models for decision-making, but what do you do in the end? You go with your heart, and you ACT. To me, that's keeping "your heart above your head." Sure, you keep your head in it, but you keep your heart above all.
You only get one chance to make your mark in this life, when the pony-he comes riding by-you better get your sweet a- - on it.
I'm back to the need to act. You'll never think your way into a happy life; you jump on before the pony rides on by. I think I know now why some people enjoy country music. Yep, I did say "I think." In my heart, I'm sure you already know I bought his music and I'm listening to it way too often.

New Starts Old Values

I was talking to a friend from college about great transitions in life. Given we are the same age and live a very short distance apart, a conversation like this is easy to have, and I am delighted we have the chance to talk about our lives from time to time. Anyway, since I met him on our first day on campus some forty-four years ago next month, it is sort of amazing we are still connected. He qualifies as my oldest friend, though I am 3 months older. He is forever associated in my mind with the greatest change I ever made in my life. Marriage, which came about 6 years later, was not a change I made alone. The change then was a joint venture made with my wife, and not by me alone

I asked my friend if he was a different person in college than he had been until then, and he said, 'Oh yes, very much so." I told him I had become an entirely different person that year, and I always recall it that way. Sure, we all do the things our parents wouldn't dream of letting us do, but not everyone changes completely. I asked him what he had kept the same during that transition and he said simply his values, like hard work, for example. I meant to ask for more examples, but the conversation headed another way and I never got the chance. I have been thinking since about my own answers to that question, and here is a list from my own perspective—hard work, friendship, determination, courage, kindness and empathy. I think I hung onto those values in how I lived my life during that period. Is it important that integrity, honesty, generosity or love didn't occur to me when I just now compiled that list? I don't think so. What matters is that I held onto some values, and made it through.

I don't add the qualifier 'positive' in front of the word values, but who has negative values anyway? Is dishonesty a value? I don't think so. It's the absence of the value of honesty. We chatted some more about career-related transitions, and I observed that my experience in college gave me the courage and an optimistic view of most all of the changes that followed. My career moves were mostly voluntary—I chose them because I thought I and my family would be better off—but there was also an element of challenge, of proving myself in each.

Now, I'm making another giant transition (at least it looks that way from this side of the gap). It's as new a chapter in my life as any other, including that transition when I was eighteen. I am stopping to take a breath, and asking what values I need to pack for the trip. I also wonder how many challenges I can stand to weather and where the element of proving myself will arise. I know they are out there, because I wouldn't be making the transition if there weren't something to prove.

Breathe In, Breathe Out, Move On

I spent thirty hours in a rental car with a Sirius Satellite radio this week. Our predominant choice was Jimmy Buffett's Margaritaville radio, and I heard lots of songs I knew and lots I didn't. I got stuck on a few, including this one. The title above is the warranty on a watch that doesn't use numbers or moving hands—it always just says "now." It's never wrong, but the warranty just says Breathe In, Breathe Out, Move On.

Hard to argue with that watch, the past is dead and gone, and the future hasn't taken place, so why keep pre-living it? I had a nice conversation with an old friend (he's five days older than I am) this week. We were talking about difficulty sleeping, speculating on its causes. We concluded the most common root cause was the habit of worrying. Whenever you become conscious enough to start worrying, sleep hasn't got a chance. It starts with remembering something that's awry, then moves on to what you should do about it, and follows up with what ifs about outcomes that might never happen. Sleep just hasn't a prayer.

Now, everyone agrees with the advice that we shouldn't worry. But who explains how to go about it? Our conversation moved on, and we never resolved that piece. I'm ready to nominate wearing Jimmy's watch that's never wrong. It just says "now." If you doubt that or get confused, consult the warranty and "breathe in, breathe out, move on."

I'm in.

 

Litter and The Law of Karma

Early this morning, I took a walk in Forest Park with a friend we're visiting. Along the way he began picking up litter, and soon we found a trash can and he unloaded. He repeated the process, and I pitched in, picking up what he missed. We had the customary discussion about the level of responsibility fast food outlets take for their immediate environs (some do and some don't), and the kinds of people who consciously litter. It made me think of the law of karma, that for every intentional action, there is a reaction. Wholesome actions result in wholesome reactions, just as surely as planting a mango seed eventually results in a tree that bears a mango fruit. But the key word is "intentional." Intentional littering will result in an unwholesome result in the lives of all these litter bugs. I think we were also patting ourselves on the back for picking up some of the litter, even remarking that if every visitor to the park picked up a half dozen items, the park would be clean continuously. The litter people toss out and leave never goes away by itself. Someone has to pick it up.

There seemed to be an unlimited supply, and I wondered how much we'd pick up in an hour's walk. It made me think of beach walks at home, when I'd pick up litter until both hands were full, then I could walk past the rest, since I had no way to carry the stuff. When we walk at low tide, we are 150 yards from the points where cans are placed at the end of each beach access path. As a practical matter, you won't pass one of them until you are headed home at the end of your walk.

When my friend picked up an empty bag that held those parmesan-garlic flavored croutons, he said he wished the fat and calories consumed would head straight to the hips of the person who discarded them, and settle there. I suggested the law of karma might just produce such an effect. I offered to go him one better and wish it all went straight to an artery in the heart and produced a heart attack, pointing out a dead litterer no longer contributes to the problem. I decided we had better retract those wishes; as such unwholesome thoughts on our part might bring an unwholesome effect on our own selves. Secretly, though, I'm hoping karma can sort some of this out and send some unwholesome effects on their way to the army of litterbugs we have developed, maybe not as cruel as a heart attack, but, something appropriate, like maybe an unsightly rash.

Dragons

Saw a display of lanterns (A Lantern Festival) at the botanical gardens last night that is nothing less than spectacular. Calling it a lantern display is totally insufficient as a description. There were lighted cloth and steel displays that were three stories high. The effect of seeing the brightly lit figures in the dark was remarkable. There were two one hundred-foot long dragons built entirely of cups, plates and saucers from a single ginormous dinnerware set. In the 100 degree heat there were more than a thousand people ambling along the outdoor paths. I'd say three out of four were snapping pictures. Trying to be considerate of the photographers by staying out of their pictures quickly would drive a teetotaler to drink.

At one point the paths were so clogged that friends encountering friends produced footed traffic jams as everyone stood by waiting for one or the other of the instigators to allow things to move again by saying "We just have to do lunch soon." I don't think they will ever have that lunch, but at least we're not still standing behind them.

Along the way, we saw explanations of the Chinese zodiac. I was reminded I am a Tiger—Unpredictable, rebellious, colorful, powerful, passionate, daring, impulsive, vigorous, stimulating, sincere, affectionate, humanitarian, and generous (I am leaving out all the negatives—usually the result of excesses of the positives, for example, unpredictable and rebellious can become restless or reckless). Just remember all those positive things about me.

However, I was surrounded by dragons. They claim they are magnanimous, stately, vigorous, strong, self-assured, proud, noble, direct, dignified, eccentric, intellectual, fiery, passionate, decisive, pioneering, artistic, empathetic, generous, and loyal. Not a particularly good match for the rebellious and unpredictable, is it? We do need to explore their other side--Can be tactless, arrogant, imperious, tyrannical, demanding, rebellious, intolerant, dogmatic, violent, impetuous, mischievous, and brash. Do you think there might be a mismatch in there somewhere? In the end, they ganged up on me and made me stay on the sidewalk, and other dignified stuff (Bleeech!)

I did take a slug of pictures, none of which came out—operator error again. If I were a dragon, they would have been dignified, stately and noble. As it is, they came out as unpredictable—just the tiger in me.

 

 

Yesterday’s Numbers

On the 4^th of July it was 103. You can try two good old solutions like baseball and hot dogs. I did both—watched the Cardinals beat the Colorado Rockies from an air-conditioned club box, and enjoyed a Jumbo Hot Dog, in the legendary birthplace of the hot dog—St. Louis, Missouri (Legend has it that the term hot dog was first used at the 1904 St. Louis World's Fair). In the end, there is only one successful solution for conditions like that—cold beer. This morning my head is reminding me that I may have lost count of precisely what medicinal dosage I had chosen to apply around the 5^th or 6^th inning.
Having stayed downtown for the pyrotechnics—yes, that was Merriam-Webster's word of the day for July 4^th—we waited an hour to let the crowd dwindle (that was one more beer in a hotel bar). We then watched train after train roll into the metro station, unable to pack any more passengers on before they even opened their doors. The river front festival that provided the afore-mentioned pyrotechnics is three stops earlier on the westbound line. We astutely observed that we were getting nowhere fast and lucked into a cab. When we were 2 blocks from our destination a water main break rerouted us ($5 additional fare circumnavigating the flooded street). We managed to land at our friends' condo eight hours after we left to head for the game. To review—here are those numbers:

• 4^th of July,
• 103 degrees,
• 2 good old solutions,
• 1 successful solution,
• 1 count lost by the 5^th inning
• 1 more beer while we waited,
• 3 stops ahead of us,
• 2 blocks, a flooded street,
• 5 dollars added to the taxi's meter, and one memorable 
• 8 hour adventure on the 4^th.
• Oh, and 2 uses of the word-of-the-day

Hope your 4^th numbered among your best, too.

The Wino and I Know

This little essay has nothing to do with the title above. It's the title of a Jimmy Buffett song I heard for the first time yesterday, and I couldn't resist borrowing it. I want to talk instead about how we can integrate the negative stuff that is in our lives, or meet the challenges that come our way—internally or externally—in such a way as to make us able to get past them and avoid letting them paralyze us. Whether it is internal or external, my reaction is my own, it's in me and I own it. The negative stuff is there, but how I react is here in me. So I think we can skip distinguishing between external and internal "stuff." The issue is how I'm reacting to it. I understand that how I'm reacting doesn't always seem to be controllable, but it is my creation.
Sometimes, I just get stuck. I have something getting in my way, or making me feel trapped in a box. Inside the box I can scarcely breathe, but it is still a box that I have convinced myself is inescapable. Knowing the box is one I devised for myself is a good first step. No matter what the box looks or feels like, if I look at it closely, I can find a time I forgot about the box and took a step of some kind that changed the situation. I may have jumped right back in the box, but that step's still out there. I did it, and a new chain of events can follow that step. If I can't see that, I may need someone close to me to point it out and challenge me to build on it, to foster some follow through on my part. Or that person only needs to point it out. Or just provide some positive feedback about it. Show me the way? In my life, taking some kind of action has kicked things off. Hard as it was, if I can just force that first step, I am good and we can build on it.
But what if that first step isn't possible? I just can't bring myself to do a thing, take a step, anything. Another possibility arises—you can tell someone (someone close that you trust, of course) about your fear or fears. If that person will listen and offer some empathy and encouragement, it might help you screw up the courage to take a step. How do you find the strength or courage to act or just to acknowledge your fear? Just remind yourself of this line-- "I'm just trying to get by being quiet and shy in a world full of pushin' and shovin'." You may be shy about tackling whatever is making you get stuck, but you can try. The world may seem to be pushing and shoving, but you can get by most things if you try (and only if you do).
Oh, and I lied about the title. The line I just quoted is from Jimmy's song, it just came out, I couldn't help it.