Tag: do

Only Love Can Tame You

Confession:
I can’t read parts of The Little Prince without weeping.

I’m hardly the weeping type, and yet…

the aching truth on vulnerability and intimacy contained in The Little Prince cuts all the way down to my what turns out to be a gooey marshmallow core; it gets in deep.

In reading The Little Prince,
I learn afresh this:
Only love can tame you. Everything else that tames is just subjugation.

If you like that nugget…<click-here-to-tweet-it>

 

If you’re not familiar with this classic, or even if you are, enjoy this excerpt:

–The Little Prince by Antoine de Saint-Exupery

Excerpt:

…it was then that the fox appeared.
“good morning” said the fox.

“good morning”
the little prince responded politely
although when he turned around he saw nothing.

“I am right here” the voice said, “under the apple
tree.”

“Who are you?” asked the little prince, and added, “You are very pretty to look at.”

“I am a fox”, the fox said.

“Come and play with me,”
proposed the little prince, “I am so unhappy.”

“I cannot play with you,” the fox said,
“I am not tamed.”

“AH please excuse me,”said the little prince.
But after some thought, he added:
“What does that mean—‘tame’?”

“You do not live here,” said the fox,
“what is it you are looking for?”

“I am looking for men,” said the little prince.
“What does that mean—tame?”

“Men,”said the fox,
“they have guns, and they hunt.
It is very disturbing.
They also raise chickens.
These are their only interests.
Are you looking for chickens?”

“No,” said the little prince.
“I am looking for friends.
What does that mean—tame?”

“It is an act too often neglected,”
said the fox.

“It means to establish ties.”

“To establish ties?”

“It’s just that,” said the fox. “To me, you are still nothing more than a little boy who is just like a hundred thousand other little boys. And I have no need of you. And you, on your part, have no need of me. To you I am nothing more than a fox like a hundred thousand other foxes. But if you tame me, then we shall need each other. To me, you will be unique in all the world. To you, I shall be unique in all the world….”

“Please–tame me!” said the Fox.

“I want to, very much,” the little prince replied. “But I have not much time. I have friends to discover, and a great many things to understand.”

“One only understands the things that one tames,” said the fox. “Men have no more time to understand anything. They buy things all ready made at the shops. But there is no shop anywhere where one can buy friendship, and so men have no friends any more. If you want a friend, tame me . . .”

“What must I do, to tame you?” asked the little prince.

“You must be very patient,” replied the fox. “First you will sit down at a little distance from me–like that–in the grass. I shall look at you out of the corner of my eye, and you will say nothing. Words are the source of misunderstandings. But you will sit a little closer to me, every day . . .”

“You become responsible, forever, for what you have tamed.”

Have you been tamed?

If you haven’t been, and you want to be, just ask. 

 

This theme was worked into the book I co-wrote with Doug Jackson “Dog in the Gap”…

You may want to read it. It could change everything.

SHOCK & BAWL: A Tale of Jeep Rage

Boston I-93 Tunnel

Creative Commons License Rene Schwietzke via Compfight

Somedays you need to read uplifting or humorous posts to soothe yourself. I GET THAT. Friday seems two weeks away. You and I both know that sometimes we must find a way to laugh so we don’t freak out on someone, or weep uncontrollably into our Dunkin’ Donuts napkin.

This is probably not going to do that for you. But, you can read it, and shoot up a quick prayer thanking God that you aren’t my spouse. So, that’s a pick-me-up. You’re welcome.

True Story:

Once I made a horrible driving error. I’m pretty sure it was the one and only time, but I completely cut someone off on the Interstate.

So, I swing into the passing lane and make a guy in a jeep brake and swerve. Panicked, and intolerably stupid, I flee the scene…by intricately weaving through traffic, no less. Maybe if I’m out of sight I can be out of mind too, I think. No, it’s actually more of a pure flight-or-fight response. I was about 7 year old at the time, and my frontal lobe was under-developed. 

Indeed, it’s all a crescendoing avalanche of foolishness. Incited, a second motorist blows his horn and starts to tail me in a move of solidarity against vehicular injustice. Things are getting totally nuts. No doubt he’s readying a tall finger for my witness. My NASCAR lane changing moves soon best him, or maybe he realizes a highway fatality is too high a price just to send a hackneyed message.

As I flee I see the victim in my mirror. He’s frothing and out of his mind with rage. He’s waving limbs around in wild fury, gassing it. He’s in hot pursuit. It’s a Jeep thing, maybe.

Now, I’m terrified. I taste the bile in my mouth.

My heart pounding, I realize this all could end very poorly. And soon.

That blaze of glory stuff is an awesome idea until you start thinking about the minutia of funeral arrangements, or wreckage in general. Yes. The poor man swerved to avoid a smash style killing of both of us. It could have been a horrid pileup too. We truly had eluded death by narrow margins. 14 guardian angels later file grievances. 3 others walk off the job immediately in complete frustration.

Jeep guy was quite good at swerving, actually, and keeps up the swerving through interstate congestion to reach me. Maybe for seconds. Maybe for kilometers. Things are getting weird. A few truckers start honking, to support me, I assume. (They probably notice my professional driving acumen. What 7 year old can draft and weave with such precision? I’m a prodigy. Surely they recognize that. It’s a rush to have their approval. They’re pros after all and they know motoring prowess when they see it.)

At this point I realize Mr Jeep guy is going to try to pull some kind of payback stunt. He’s all in.

Battle of the Stupid Driving Stunts is the theme of the afternoon, but who can blame him? At this point, he’s jacked up pretty good. I’m in a subcompact. How bad will this get? Does he have a gun? Or, will he keep it simple and just run me off the road with a triumphant fist pump? Will I be late for Girl Scouts?

How is this going to end?

I do some quick thinking. Finally. Thoughts not just reactions. I mentally pat myself on the back as my synapses fire two or maybe three times…in a row with no problems!

Actually, I stopped breathing for 8 minutes.

They say necessity is the mother of invention, right? Well, it is. I am inventing a solution with  an unfettered brain buzz that comes just before you die or you nearly die. I’ve scene this in the movies: It’s always in slow motion.

I do the only thing I think will hit the reset button. (Yes. I know there’s no real reset button. Curse you, Staples! Or Vanilla Sky…)

I decide on the element of SURPRISE!

Of course, I had just surprised him quite a bit a moment earlier by nearly snuffing out his life. “Surprise, dude!”

Yet, this is precisely why he will never see a second surprise coming. Really, I had him right were I wanted him.

(If only the roaring terror in my brain had let me enjoy that precious moment. Alas, no. Not at all.)

I enact my own creative SEAL 6 black ops tactic I now call:

Operation Boo-hoo.

It’s go time!

I burst into tears.

I cry.

Sob, really.
Or, I pretend to.

Who has the time to form actual tears at such a high rate of speed and in heavy traffic–before they’re about to be murdered in an act of heedless revenge? Me neither.

Armed with a fistful of tissues I wipe my eyes and feign bawling. A lot. He approaches in haste (of course, because he’s ready to kill me).

From me: Zero eye contact. (Like he’s not even there. A genius move. Remember that for later in your own travels.)

Peripherally, I see him. He edges up to my blind spot. Hovering. Ready to pounce.

He’s poised. He peers. He notices me. He witnesses total hysteria. …and then…mercifully… eases off. (Perhaps I turned out to be a 3 gallon bucket of mess and he only has a 2 gallon bucket that day.)

Yes, I counted on his attitude changing once he thought something else was going on with me. Something mental. Something suicidal or wickedly moronic–barely thwarted by his quick reflexes.

Or, just something too crazy to understand.

Shock and bawl.

I was going for, “Wha….?” 
Is it Grief? remorse? madness? sorrow? a lost puppy? What. is. the. deal?
Whatever…let me just say it worked. Perfectly.

Later, I rewarded myself with a new box of Kleenex…with aloe.
I’m not sure why I wasn’t armed with aloe tissues in the first place. But, never again.
Because that would be crazy.

If that was you in the Jeep, thanks.

I wasn’t paying attention and I didn’t see you. We both avoided certain doom.

P.S. (I might have not been 7 years old at the time.)

6 Notes on Creativity: A Dispatch from Sparky Pronto

I’m writing as “Sparky Pronto” (my alter ego) who has the wisdom of the Muses to spark your creative muse and give you encouragement.

A few thoughts…

• Ignore insinuations that creating isn’t part of your reason for being here.

• When you make good art consistently, eventually you will be rewarded.

• Only a few people will “get you” and what you’re doing, if any do at all. That is no reason to stop creating.

• If you feel alive when you create, it’s crazy to stop or let it lag. Don’t.

• Creativity is like water. Jumping into a creative flow will be messy. Know that going in.

 

Heaven is For Real, but is it as silly as they say?

On the recent topic of Heaven (and soon, Hell) here at the old blog, I must bring up the baffling and sappy rendering of the heaven that we hear about quite a bit in conservative North American Protestantism.

If a boy nearly dies, and then tells you details about heaven exactly as you have taught him, what’s next? I’ll tell you what, a best seller (for people who need a spiritual vitamin B12 shot for their excruciatingly literal translations of biblical passages, and who pay no mind to historical context, linguistic idioms, let alone Hebrew and Greek).

Now, I realize young children tell silly stories. That’s part of their job. The trouble comes when the stories get massaged and coupled with a near-death tragedy to elicit a faith response from the more gullible among us. I do want to think the Burpos are on the up-and-up, but something stinks.

I heard Pastor Burpo and his little boy on a television program. What a cute kid. Some of the story seemed amazing, if not miraculous, but I got a bad whiff of something when Colton (really his dad) detailed heaven as, well, super lame.

People get around on their huge wings. Okay, I hope that’s not how it works. Boobs have been bad enough. The proverbial pearly gates make an appearance. The word “wicked trite” comes to mind, but maybe I’m just too cynical. A blue-eyed Jesus wears a purple sash over his white robe, and rides a giantic rainbow colored horse. Okay, bad wardrobe, and how could the genuine biblical Jesus from the ancient Semitic region possibly possess a double recessive gene for blue eyes? (And don’t say, because both Mary and the Holy Spirit had blue eyes, ’cause I’m not buying it.)

I don’t think Jesus rolls like that. But, I give the kid credit: An elephantine rainbow horse is pretty cool. Of course, I would have to know if it pooped rainbow too. That’s awfully critical info. God (the Father) has a body and sits on the throne, with Gabriel serving as a kind of right hand angel man on his left side, in a smaller throne…as we might expect, right? It all sounds like a bad Star Trek episode. Well, sort of.

Reader reviews often complain that only 3 pages of the book speaks of heaven in any details. But the book has done well. Very well. It spent 52 weeks on the bestseller list, and the family has since produced a children’s picture book, and you guessed it, and movie rights have been purchased by Sony. Pretty sweet deal!

Possible movie title: “Heaven is for Reel: One Boy’s Near-death experience as re-told by his literalistic dad”

When the parents are asked about authenticity, their answers center on referring to the hope the story brings. This begs the question, is the point of the book to create hope in a plenty of people already know what they want heaven to be, instead of a faithful depiction of God (who, by the way, is non corporeal) and the Bible? (Which would be far more confusing.) Both can’t be true.

If you want to read a copy for yourself, and decide, here it is.

But, I offer you some thoughtful reflection on the the topic from arguably the foremost New Testament scholar alive today.

Halloween Night: A Christian Spiritual Practice?

Porch Party 2011
We have a rather long side porch. On trick-or-treat night, we fixed it up in creepy fashion. I stuffed pants and shirts and placed them on chairs to look like scarecrows. Plastic spiders, snakes, and mice were peppered near candy bowls. Votive candles and illuminated pumpkins lit the way. We used the internet to stream in 50s-60s themed music (Think Monster Mash and the rest). Out in the back, our fire pit made a toasty atmosphere on a chilly night; and coffee, warm cider, and cookies added to the warmth, on a few levels.

The most fun was meeting new neighbors, re-connecting with known neighbors, and talking with them. I realized that there isn’t another “holiday” like this one. Thanksgiving, Christmas, and Easter usually involve travel, plenty of food prep, and a different schedule for school or work. Not Halloween. What other time do you have dozens of neighbors interacting with you on your property…at night? It’s a unique night. It’s an opportunity.

Our visitors and friends loved the decor and seemed touched by the effort. Can I say there was joy? Can I say that, for this sort of thing? Well, there was.

I had more time this year, so I sort of “caught the bug” and went all-out. I don’t think is was the Halloween spirit either. It was the Christmas one, arriving early…like department store merchandise. And in the middle of all that good cheer, I wondered, why don’t communities, groups, or Christians team up more often create a safe, fun, and loving atmosphere for these kids and families that come to visit every year? That’s a wasted opportunity, is it not?

I learned some other amazing things:

1. When you prepare to love on people, they “get it”. (Open appreciation: Everyone wore smiles, and said thank you–a lot! It was a delight to just be giving. I got more than I gave. Seriously.)

2. Being welcoming doesn’t take much money. (I was planning to buy candy for trick-or-treaters anyway. I used things I already had to decorate, and my neighbor joined in–donating decor, and cookies.) Pretty cool, huh?

3. My kids love to host and create community. In this way, they learn compassion and kindness. All on their own, they handed out treats, informed visitors of our “amenities”, interacted with the children, and helped people find their way around. How else would I have gotten to see this?

4. It’s only 2 hours. While some parties can linger, and take lot of food prep time, have logistic issues, trick-or-treat night is a specified time with a fairly easy menu. Most people make the time for it, somehow. For our neighborhood, it lasts from 6-8p.m. It’s not too hard to get some extra things ready to make it a more memorable and a special time for visitors.

5. It shines a light in the darkness. Times are tough, and there a lot of bad news and bad things happening in the world. It’s nice to give people something good. I find it totally ironic that this could or should be best served on Halloween. But why not? No day can shut out God’s Light and Love. (This also gives new meaning to the phrase “Take Back the Night”, yeah?)

Here’s some important background information
As a kid, raised in a very conservative (i.e. fundamentalist) Christian home, and my parents believed that going out for candy in costume on or near October 31st was colluding with the Devil. “It’s Satan’s Day,” I used to hear. Strangely enough, for all our protesting of it, the (unintentional) focus was more on Halloween and evil, than it was for any typical trick-or-treater. Now, that’s whack. Sometimes our efforts to be “righteous” (or whatever) have the opposite intended consequences. It seems we had it all backwards. Reinvention is key. Hospitality can happen any day or day. Take back the night with grace and love, or at least some goodwill to men!

Is Halloween a Christian Holiday?
Well, I’ll be honest and say I had no plans to hand out tracts, or influence a conversion experience on my porch. I wasn’t sharing verses or inviting people to my church. But, it was a rather blessed time. If anyone got the message that we made a spot for them in our week, then we accomplished a lot. Maybe a lot more than the typical church (which can feel like a club) can do most nights of the week.

I don’t think I’ve had the chance to touch so many lives in such a short time, as I did on that nigh. And to borrow Eric Liddell’s phrasing (think of the ancient “Chariots of Fire” film), “I feel God’s pleasure.” Parents and kids alike remember who was kind and who had a fun place to visit. And that, my friends, is shining a light. (The short answer is just, “Yes,Halloween is a Christian Spiritual practice–now“.)

Have you ever done this sort of thing for Halloween night? If not, give it a try. You can make some effort to spread more love and good cheer on this night too. If you do, let me know how it went.

Here are some photos of our night: