ClearHeadSpace

Oct 24

Church and State VS God and Country

They’re different. Church and State is vastly different from God and Country. Our culture - the media, the general public – unwittingly confuses the two, often equating Church to God, and State to Country. When they’re merged into one topic, it’s easy to see how an agenda can be accomplished. The ACLU is famous for “protecting” the rights of those “offended” (State or Country) by a display of religion (God or Church). But I’m not writing this to make Thomas Jefferson’s “Wall of Separation” Letter into some kind of tool for an agenda. I think the issue we’re facing is bigger than what we’ve been presented.

First, what the issue is not about. The First Amendment’s Establishment Clause was what Jefferson was referring to in his letter. Separation of Church and State was about making sure that the federal government didn’t sanction an “establishment of religion.” In other words, “We’re not England, and we’re not going to create a National Religion.” We all know that. But many don’t know that the Constitution simply stops there. The very next phrase, “or prohibiting the free exercise thereof;” flies in the face of many perceived notions of the “Separation”. Practicing religion on public property is not sanctioned nor prohibited. Jefferson did note in his letter (keep in mind this was a letter, not an official public policy document) that: “religion is a matter which lies solely between Man & his God…” Your relationship with God is just that, yours. But again, this isn’t what the issue is really about.

So, if it’s not about religion and state, what is it about?

It’s about the very value of mankind.

Jefferson went on to say, “I shall see with sincere satisfaction the progress of those sentiments which tend to restore to man all his natural rights…”

We should, as worldwide citizens, see the inherent value of humanity. The question I have is, where does that value come from? The church? State? Bible? Buddha? Humanity’s collective conscious? No matter where it comes from, it exists. How does our society handle the rights of humanity, though, when they are derived from human institutions? If a government decides what our rights are, they can just as easily decide what are rights are not. This is why it is necessary for a Higher-Power view of creation. Anything else is human and fraught with the frailty of limited knowledge and perspective. Even the collective conscious, as well developed as it has become, can devolve into mob-rule in mere moments. Without the assurances of a Creator having endowed us with certain unalienable rights, there are no assurances at all.

Personally, I don’t think it really matters if the Higher-Power is seen as the Judeo-Christian God, or Islam’s Allah, or Hindu Prajapati. Or maybe it’s El, or maybe Ra. It could even be the collective intelligence and consciousness of humanity is far greater than the singular, thus offering the much needed value of the individual, as long as it’s understood that, when coalesced into a human-created and regulated institution, it becomes corrupted by the nature of human systems. This is because systems are run by individuals, or committees, which are not equipped to truly represent the Rights of Man with a total lack of selflessness.

No matter the view, all of these perspectives on a Creator offer a greater view of Mankind. The caution is that when turning to your right or left, the individual standing there has the exact same value, and was born equal to you, even if they don’t view the source of humanity’s value the same way you do. Their value is the same. Their space in this life-journey is the same. It should not infringe upon yours, and you should not infringe upon theirs. When that happens, it makes a bold statement that the value of their life is different than yours.

If God (a Creator) is not foundational to the rights established for our country, then the value of each individual is determined by what they provide to a functional society. Or, even worse, who that socio-economic group can keep in power. We see this often during elections. Our candidates for government often pit one societal class against another. “You’re been held back by these people,” we’re told. “Your right to a better life is being hindered by that group,” they say. Well, no, not really. We all begin our lives with the right to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. Not because a government says so, but because we were all created with the inherent value that makes it so.

Sep 28

The Voice of the Created

One of my favorite books at the moment is The War of Art: Break Through the Blocks and Win Your Inner Creative Battles. The main premise is that no matter your art, there is a struggle with resistance to create it. I consider myself an artist, certainly. But I’m not sure what I consider my primary artistic medium to be. I went to college to study music. I worked in the music industry producing, recording, and mixing records. I’ve performed on stage in bands. I started a multimedia development company that went from being successful at creating interactive media presentations for large corporations and finally emerged as a (also successful) web development company. I’ve done graphic design. I’ve been a photographer. Those things I’ve been paid to do. I’ve dabbled in painting. I’ve tried my hand at woodworking. Those things I’ve not been able to even turn into a satisfying hobby, though in my quieter moments I still have aspirations to hone those crafts into something impressive. Pressfield makes the argument that what you should be doing is the thing you face the most resistance starting. As of late, I’ve been dabbling with blogging, and I must say that the resistance faced when sitting down to write, for me, is enormous. Allow me to explain.

Whenever I begin there’s always something more pressing for me to do. Or more interesting. Well, maybe not more pressing or more interesting, but at least more distracting. I find myself doing “research” on sites that just happen to feature that new cell phone I want, or that new media development software app. Or maybe there’s a tutorial on the latest development of audio convolution, (something I studied in college, but never use now. I should probably read up on it though, just in case). Or, I can get right down to work and study about blogging techniques, or how to monetize a blog. Or maybe I can get work done by reading up on the latest news stories, again “researching” for topics, all while never having actually written a word. At the end of my scheduled “blogging” time, nothing has been actually written.

Yes, I have a scheduled “blogging time” in my calendar. It says something like, “Tue, 2:00 pm – 4:00 pm – Blog: Write it, even if it’s crap.” Pressfield (and consequently many of the blogs I’ve read on blogging and how to be a better blogger while I should be blogging) says basically that quantity counts. Why? Because you get better at it the more you do it. He also says that a schedule is important, and sticking to it while minimizing distractions is critical. That’s the time to be productive.

But there’s one other big issue of resistance I’ve encountered that Pressfield doesn’t really address – but many of the experts say is necessary – and that’s write what you’re passionate about. That’s fine, but it’s also important to write about what you know as well. I don’t think it’s necessary to be an expert, but knowledge on the topic is important. So there it is. What have I got to say that I’m passionate about, and that I know enough about that would help inform the lives of others? That’s my question. That’s my resistance. It’s something that I certainly have to work out for myself.

But I do know this. I know that everyone has a voice. I also believe that everyone wants to be heard. It’s why kids so desperately want their parents to listen. At an early age, they’re trying to engage in conversation. Well, not really conversation. It’s more monologue than dialogue.

“Daddy, did you know that… (insert any lengthy topic here) ?”

“Yes.”

“Ok.”

“Why do you ask?”

“Umm, I don’t know.”

That’s what kids do with their parents. They want to be listened to. The last few months I’ve had the privilege of coaching my eldest son’s soccer team with my neighbor. During both practices and in the middle of games, at any point, there will be a six year old running up to me to inform me of something completely unrelated to the practice, let alone the game. They want to be heard. My wife. My friends. My peers. My colleagues. It’s not that they want to be heard by me, (I’m not that narcissistic) it’s that we all want a voice at the table of our lives. Sit in an office meeting, and opinions flow. Sit at the dinner table and a whole other world unfolds. I know I want to be heard.

So why is it so difficult to settle on something to say, when there’s so much to be said? I think it’s because more than wanting to be heard, I want to say something of value. Because when I do, it validates my sense of self-worth. And I think that gets down to the real heart of it. It’s not that we want to be heard, that we want a voice. It’s that we want to be valued. Because when someone is listening, they’re experiencing a part of us that we’ve allowed to be made visible. We’ve taken a risk and exposed a little part of who we are. Real, honest communication is an intimate act of exposure. And when we listen to the voices of others, when we allow them a seat at the table of our attention, we validate their significance.

More than anything, that’s what I’m passionate about. The significance of the Created. 

Sep 07

A Real and Deep Relationship, Unless You’re…

Unless your Muslim.

The Dove World Outreach Center’s website says, “God loves you and he longs for a real and deep relationship with you.” That’s nice. And I believe it’s true. But I don’t think that Dove World Outreach Center does.

In all fairness, I didn’t contact them before I posted this. Perhaps I should have, but I honestly don’t think they would have the time to answer my questions since I’m sure they are being bombarded by the major news outlets. They are making headlines on drudgereport.com after all. That’s no easy feat. Above the fold space is limited and he’s had 8.7 billion visits in the last year.

Why doesn’t Dove World Outreach Center believe that God wants a real and deep relationship with you? Because they put a caveat on who God would want a deep relationship with. The thing is, God loved his Created first. FIRST. In order to be a Christian, you must believe that Jesus is God. Don’t get side tracked and read into what I just wrote. I’m not talking about the afterlife. I’m not talking about who has a doctrinal system nailed down and thus has God figured out correctly. No, I’m not talking about who has it right. I’m talking about what it means to be labeled  Christian. And as a Christian, it’s implied as we dig a little deeper that we’ve been given some mandates. Not the least of which comes from Jesus himself. He says, “Follow Me.” He didn’t say, “Protest on my behalf.” Or, “Blessed are those that offend, for they shall inherit the earth.” Or, “Shock the world for My sake.”

Love. When you love someone you want to understand them. Did you know that the way Christians hold dear Jesus Christ is the same way that orthodox Muslims hold dear the Qur’an? Christians, how would you respond to anyone burning Christ in effigy? When was the last time that you so dearly revered the Bible that you reverently washed your hands and feet before even touching it. We don’t hold the Bible in veneration the same way as Muslims view the Qur’an. It’s difficult to understand, but the closest we can get is that they see their holy book the same way we see the Father’s Son. Desecrating the Qur’an is simply unthinkable.

But, someone says, “look at the violence they’re threatening to respond with!” Fine, let’s look. But first, let’s follow Christ. Something was said about a spec, eyes and a plank. The plank is in my eye. It must be dealt with first. (Remember: “Follow Me.”) Why in the world would we even consider doing something considered so offensive? How is that loving our neighbor? How is that loving them as we love ourselves? Isn’t that the commandment that’s “like unto the greatest?” Love the Lord your God.

This story makes me very sad. I’m sad that I share the same label as the Dove World Outreach Center.  But I’m not going to give it up. I believe what I believe, and that makes me a Christian by definition. This just gives us a lot more work to do.

We Christians have our mandate.

Aug 30

You think you know the President, but do you know me?

The recent Pew Poll on President Obama’s perceived religious leanings has been all over the news. For better or worse, but I couldn’t help finding myself challenged by the findings. Politics, and the issues we entrust to our politicians are often far more complex than most of us can really comprehend. Not that we can’t understand them, but we’re often only presented with a portion of the facts. If it doesn’t fit in a sound-bite, then we probably haven’t heard it. And what’s worse, we probably won’t take the time to actually find out the whole story.

I’m not going to reveal anything new about the President, but I realized that his religion has opened the window to a bigger issue than what would ever be addressed by the media. After pondering this for a little more than a week, I realized that I what I was really doing was challenging myself.

Here’s what I mean. You know that I’m a husband. It’s the first thing I say about myself after my job. You may not know that my title as “husband, father, son, brother” matters more to me than my job, but you should. You know I’m a pastor. You may know that I went to school to be a musician. You may know that I spend much of my time working on computers, developing and managing websites, creating multimedia experiences, editing video, mastering audio and more. Hopefully you know that I like to think deeply about everything, trying to see both sides of the issue. In all of that, in my bio – I have a few versions that emphasize different aspects of my career depending on the situation - nowhere do I mention that I’m a Christian.

President Obama’s situation frustrated me. Not because he may or may not be Christian and not because he may or may not be Muslim, but because I’m the former, and not sure that I’ve done any better in living a life that makes that obvious. I believe that if you’re a Christian, or if you’re a Muslim, it’s implicit in the belief system that your faith should be obvious to others. One of the Five Pillars of the Muslim Faith is the Zakāt. It’s an important facet of the faith. It’s the personal responsibility of every Muslim and an obligatory act of worship. Every act of worship should have a final point, a purpose. The purpose of the Zakāt is to ease hardship of those in need, to seek to eliminate inequality by giving to others (Qur’an 9:60). Christians, does that sound familiar? We are called to make our faith visible by the very same actions. We have the opportunity to minister to others by the very same actions.

My point is this: If my faith matters to me, then my life should reflect it. There should be no doubt. Both Christianity and Islam offer some very tangible ways to reflect their beliefs. While different, they should be obvious.

Personally, I don’t care about the President’s religious beliefs as it relates to governance. I do care that he has faith in something other than himself, and believes in it enough to live like it matters. I think that’s why the populace is confused. Where is it obvious in his life that he’s either? The “attending church” argument presented by the media doesn’t hold water for me, because it’s as much how you live as it is what building you walk into on a sacred day of worship. So, here’s the crux of the matter: It doesn’t matter what anyone else believes, only that I believe it enough to live my life in such a way that it leaves you no doubt about it. Christians are often accused of talking a good talk, but not living up to it. I don’t believe that’s true, most of the time. Unfortunately, for me, it’s true far more often than it should be.

One final note, if you’re Muslim, please forgive me if I misused, or misunderstood, the Qur’an. One of my goals is to live my life well enough that you would like to know more about my journey, please understand that I’m doing my best to better understand your path – but even that process is a journey all its own. 

Aug 21

Vicarious Parenting

A post I wrote a few years ago that I thought you may find interesting. I’m simply reposting it here as a way to consolidate all of my blogs.

————

beginning…

I started this blog a few days ago wanting to write my observations about some parents who’s children are competing in a nationally televised competition called The Next Great American Band. If you have been watching the show, you know who I’m talking about. Originally, it was going to be a hard look at them specifically, but I’m not sure that they really deserve it. As I began writing, I realized that I was writing this to myself as much as anyone else. Sometimes it’s good to remind ourselves what we believe in order to steer clear of mistakes we vowed we’d never make. So, I deleted my original paragraph that set this up to be a salacious article on bad parenting and started over. Here goes… I thought I’d take a moment and share some observations I’ve had about what it means to see your kids succeed, and what that actually looks like.

The situation

I have two boys, who (according to my own “professional” diagnoses) are very advanced for their age, and incredibly talented. I mean, at four and two, you can tell these things. They are talking, eating, sleeping, playing and pooping so far above and beyond expectations, I don’t know where to begin. Ok, enough sarcasm. I want to say I can relate. I’m proud of my kids when they excel. I hope they are successful in whatever they do. But here’s the problem. How do we define success, especially when it’s our kids we are talking about?

The problem

It’s far too easy, and tempting, to compare the success of our kids in relation to what other kids are doing. So, when my pre-pre-school kid is writing his letters, I get on the phone and call grandma. When my pre-pre-school child swings his diminutive (real) golf clubs with a perfect takeaway and follow through that I envy, I call grandpa. When I see other kids attempt these things and not do as well, I’m secretly happy, and slightly jealous when they do better. But what happens when our children do the things well that we wish we could do now? Or show the potential of being really great at something that we dreamt about when we were kids? There’s a skewed perspective that must be taken into account. Here’s what I mean: We compare their success to the level of achievement obtained by other kids their age. That’s not healthy. Every child is unique with immeasurable value, and potential beyond our comprehension. The next thing we do is compare through the lens of our own love, ambition, relation and yes, pride, of their success to the level of achievement obtained by those already successful in the chosen field . Is it difficult to see where this leads?

The result

What happens then, when talented kids are thrust (with or without their own dreams in tow) into a situation where the comparisons and lenses no longer apply? What is left for the kids? When a child grows older, they begin to find out that their parents had (perhaps only subconsciously) their own interest and dreams at play, never really exploring all options for their child and allowing for full maturation. Then the kids find out that, they either weren’t quite as good as thought (the comparisons no longer apply), and there is always someone better, or that “living this dream” isn’t all they were led to believe it would be. It’s a difficult situation for a parent. I want my kids to do so well, and the most obvious litmus test is the averages of the world we are exposed to. It’s worse for our children who are exposed to our own vision for their lives more than any other, and when our own exposure to the world around us is, in reality for us all, limited.

ending…

I had intended this article to take a hard look at the parents from the band “Light of Doom” as seen on The Next Great American Band. But here’s the reality. I don’t know them. I only know myself. I have sat behind them and observed what appear to be two major issues that need to be addressed.

1. They are living vicariously through their kids. They want to be doing what their kids are doing. It’s obvious on their faces, in their demeanor, and in their attitudes.
2. They are somewhat blind, or ignorant, to what will most likely happen to their kids when a record company is put into a position of finding something marketable about these guys. The band doesn’t really have a market as it stands, and the most obvious option is to create a “Hanson Metal” band. But the thought of “Hanson” doesn’t usually conger up fond thoughts to most people. This is a result of limited life exposure.

I feel sorry for the kids. I feel sorry for the parents too. They are missing out on a level of pride that comes when you see your child do right, not just well. I remember the look in my father’s eyes when I achieved a level of success that was more advanced than those of my peers. And while I could not have possibly recognized it then, he has a world view that I’m a large part of, thus diminishing other aspects of that perspective. I get in the way, as it were. Kids BIG, everything else small. That’s not bad. It’s the way it is, and it’s good. We want to be big in our parent’s eyes. We need to be big in their eyes. But I remember with a fonder memory, and my own perception of self-worth soared, when he and I sat down and had heart to heart, deep discussions about maturity, life, discovery, and growth. When he saw that I was my own man, providing for my own family, and loving others as I love myself, my heart swelled because his had burst. I want these kids from San Diego to have that. I want you to have that.

Thanks for hearing me out.

A-Social Networking

Since I’m switching blogging platforms (from blogger to tumblr), I’ve decided to bring over some of my old posts. I could do some tricky rss-feed import with comments, but it’s just as easy to copy and paste. Here’s one I wrote a little over a year ago as I was working on some social networking sites for my church.

———-

I’ve spent the last week and some change setting up our Church’s social networking site pages. It’s been a challenge keeping everything straight, to say the least, but it has been fun for the most part.

However, I can’t help but wonder if the unintended consequence of our increased use of social networking sites such as Facebook, Twitter and MySpace are worth the potential “virtual” touches. I can’t help but feel that the proliferation of all things virtual will have a direct affect on our ability to connect with all things substantial.

Many times lately my wife and I have found ourselves staring at our own computers, connected to the same (Facebook) network, with little to no interaction with each other. We pick up our blackberries and start typing away, connected, in a way, to other spheres of influence, while completely missing the one that we are existing in at that moment. My personality type makes me prone to such diversions.

My question restated then is: “Are the “virtual touches” that we have with one another worth the cost of actual encounters?” So much time and effort is spent on one, it seems impossible that something else won’t suffer.

Aug 19

tumblrbot asked: WHERE WOULD YOU MOST LIKE TO VISIT ON YOUR PLANET?

Where I’d like to visit. Most. On this planet? That should be easy since I have quite a few places on my bucket list to visit (and since I don’t get to travel internationally very often). However, what I’ve discovered is that it’s not the where, it’s the with that matters most to me. My wife and I can go pretty much anywhere and have a good time.

Once we traveled to the Mojave desert to surprise some friends, got lost, had a blast. We were in the desert. There was nothing around for miles.

Northern Wisconsin - near where I grew up - is certainly not one of my favorite places in the world to visit. But when I’m with my family, I’d rather not be anywhere else. There’s a lot of great things to do, but the “unique-factor” doesn’t exist for me since it’s so familiar.

I’ve never been to Europe. If I could pick one place to see there, it would probably be Rome. We almost went for our ten year wedding anniversary, but felt that if we were going to go to Europe we wanted to see more. Which of course meant we ended up not going because we couldn’t take that much time off work. Someday…

Anywhere? That one place? The Far East has a strong appeal to me. A culture that old, and refined, with that much history seems to be an experience that everyone must have at least once in their life if only to gain a longer perspective on life.

How about this? My wife travels for a living. On any given day, the one place I’d like to visit most is where she’s staying. In July, 2010 I hopped on a late flight from Nashville to Fort Lauderdale. I arrived at 10:30 pm, and literally walked off the plane as my wife was walking off her flight just one gate over. We caught a ride to a hotel. Spent the morning on the beach, then at noon the next day we both went back to the airport. 14 hours. That’s all I needed to have an incredible visit to the place I most wanted to be.

How about you? How much does where you visit affect your trip?

Aug 17

My Father, The Roofer.

My father, Reid Ribble, is running for won his election to the United States Congress in Wisconsin. I’m still growing up. I want to be just like him when I do. I’m married. I have a career all my own. I have two kids, a wife whom I adore. But, when I’m fifty and look into the mirror – I hope it’s my Dad I see smiling back at me.

When I was around ten years old – it really doesn’t matter how old, I was young – my dad asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up. I know it was around ten, maybe twelve, because I was old enough to actually start thinking about it beyond the scope of the immature childish dreams of becoming a super-hero or an inanimate object. (It’s possible to dream anything when you have no concept of time or space, or matter. Instead of a race-car driver, I was more prone to want to be a race-car). This was a typical father-son discussion, but it got serious quickly. Here’s why. I’m sure I said something like, “An astronaut.”

His response, “You can do anything you want. Be anything you want. You’re sure you don’t want to become a roofer, like your dad?”

“Yep.”

“Why?”

“Dad, I don’t like roofing. I think it’s stupid.” In other words, “I don’t like what you do. I want to do something that people respect.”

He could have been crushed. This was a family business started by his father. He had done it his entire life, and I’m sure at some level, he hoped to pass it on to his kids. But he wasn’t crushed. Instead he took the opportunity – seized it – and taught me something I will never forget. He sat me down, and with grace and the kind of quiet urgency behind his voice that cries in the calm, “If you miss this, I’ve failed as a father,” he explained.

What I thought he was going to say,  (though I wouldn’t have been able to fully articulate it then) was that he had sacrificed his career options to take care of his family. That he had given up doing something really important, instead choosing to provide for something really important.

He didn’t.

He looked me right in the eyes, held my gaze and said, “Roofing is important work. It’s honorable work. We provide a service. It gives us a chance to do something with honesty, integrity, and standards. I get to come home every evening knowing that I worked hard and provided for my family honestly. We give other people that same chance. There are dads on those roofs taking care of their kids with honesty and hard work too. Never forget this. Roofing has given our family a place to live. It has given us food. And it has given you a future.”

It has given you a future.

Dad. I so want to be like you when I grow up.

There is little in our society that angers me more than classism. Classism runs in a lot of directions. If you skip college, take a blue-collar job, then you’re a degenerate who can’t succeed in life. You lack ambition. You lack drive and focus, and all you want is a handout.

If you’re successful, that’s even worse. How dare you succeed? That can only happen by taking advantage of those less fortunate. You’re a slave driver.

I’m frustrated by both views because they don’t recognize the common value of the individual. They’re insidious because the bigotry is acceptable in our society. Just find a group you fit into – rich or poor, or middle class, and secretly hate the others. Be jealous of the rich. Be condescending to the poor. Beyond the intrinsic value found in each human being, we all have our role to play in society. We can choose to embrace it and value others, or denigrate others and lose our value in the process.

This is where my father took the lesson deeper. He saw how much the roofing industry had provided, simply by rewarding hard, honest work that he wanted to give back to it. He donated his time, volunteered to make the industry better. He wanted to make sure that those who came after him, even though he knew it wasn’t going to be his own kids, would be left with a business model, industry, and more importantly, opportunity, that worked better than when he started.

My dad sees the value in providing for his family. He sees the value in providing a way for others to do the same. He sees value in the employee and employer, and wants both to be successful. Some people have called him “Reid the Roofer.” Some people mean it as a pejorative. Others view it as a term of endearment, representing the common citizen ready for leadership. I hope you see it as a badge of honor. I do.

So that is my challenge. Recognizing that whatever I’m doing, my work needs to be honest. My family is provided for. My “industry” is improved and I appreciate it. What we all do is of value on many levels. I can’t wait to tell my kids, “Roofing has given you a future.”

Swing Speed

I originally posted this on my vox.com blog. I’m reposting it here.

I’ve spent the last few months gathering my thoughts for this post. I have been writing, rewriting, revamping, changing, and generally spending my time in general dissatisfaction with how I was phrasing what I want to say. So I deleted everything I wrote, and am going to do a slightly edited stream of consciousness.

I’m getting old.

Well, not really old, but older. I hit that second significant milestone that differentiates one phase of life from another. I’m thirty. I thought that when I turned 18 I’d feel different, older, smarter, wiser. I was legal to enter into contract, to vote, to get married, and basically do everything except drink. No problem there. I’m not a big drinker (although I do enjoy a good Shiraz every now and then.) Aside from moving from the phase of childhood, being under the care and protection of my parents, there was no real emotional change, at least not the single, revelational change that we attribute to significant life events. I grew emotionally, but it was a process, process which I couldn’t quicken enough.

21 came and went. I got married. Both significant events (marriage obviously being the most dramatic at the age of 22). But I still felt young and inexperienced. I’ve started to accept that phase of life for what it was. But I do look back with some regret. Namely, that I didn’t respect myself enough. At that time I was running a fairly successful consulting firm helping musicians, singers, songwriters, and producers develop and install production studios for recording and mixing, as well as mastering records. I’m good at that. But because I felt young, and didn’t really respect my own ability, I was always questioning whether I had the skills, or the ability to turn this into a successful business. From there, I created a multimedia development firm. We had a few major clients, bringing in thousands of dollars per project. I felt like I should be charging hundreds. This became a difficult to manage. I would have a hard time looking at a potential customer, who was often someone I had an already established relationship with, and ask for what I was actually worth. I had the skill set, the experience, and the work to back it up, but not the belief in myself. I sold that company. I tell myself it was because my life had gotten out of balance. I had kids. I had two other jobs to help put food on the table. My wife worked full time. I wanted to be around more. Ok. That sounds good. But beneath the surface, I’m not really sure that I believed I could operate a profitable company.

I wanted to feel old. I wanted to feel experienced. I wanted to, in my core, know that when I was talking to someone one to two decades my senior, that I was offering something that their life experience hadn’t already seen or knew more about. I wanted to perceive my own value higher than I could accept it.

I turned 30. And guess what? At 30 years old and one day, I was still in the same place emotionally that I was at when I was 29 and 364 days old. No change, except for one key difference. I was physiologically feeling older. I love golf. Love it. I wish I could play more (see the balance part a few paragraphs ago). I had a Neutral bias TaylorMade R5 driver with a stiff flex mid-kick shaft. Great for someone with a fast swing speed. A great driver. But I kept slicing. I’d make all the adjustments I could find. I studied and read more than my fair share of Golf Digest, Golf Magazine, and Golf.com articles. How much Golf Channel can one man watch? A lot. So much that you can get your toddler boys hooked. Everything was pointing towards one of two issues: I had to slow down my swing and/or my driver’s shaft was too stiff (which meant I was swinging too slow). The problem is that if you can’t swing it fast enough, and with enough control, you’ll slice it. So you need to slow down the swing. But if you slow down a swing with a stiff flex driver, you can’t get the head closed in time, and you’ll slice it. I was in an emotional bind. What to do? Then I had the incredible opportunity to spend 3 days at a golf school in St. Augustine, Florida with my father and brother. Just the boys. Incredible. We spent a lot of time working on the basics - iron work primarily. Finally we pulled out the drivers. The instructor was able to get me straightened out, but I wasn’t hitting it very long. Then it came time to get fitted for a new driver. I had stars of a shiny new R7 in my eyes. The tests got under way. I was worried. I’m 30, and a far, far cry from Tiger. My younger, more fit, more athletic, more everything brother came back with a regular flex TaylorMade Burner. I was sick. If he wasn’t hitting it fast, what chance did I have? But much to my delight, I have a swing speed fast enough that I ended up with a stiff flex (albeit custom “backspin killer”) shaft, on a shiny new R7. My instructor took me aside, saw that I was still slicing it, even with the draw bias of this new club, and made one minor adjustment to my grip. Left hand a touch, and I mean a touch, stronger. BAM! I was (am) excited. Maybe I’m not as old as I feel. Wait. Maybe I don’t feel as old as I am.

That was the moment. That was the catalyst I needed to step back and look at where I was, where I am, and where I want to go. Life is about phases and stages. It’s about the clichéd “journey”. Yes, yes. But it’s also about the cumulative experience, and learning from those experiences. I suddenly found myself with a sense of faith in myself. I still have plenty of issues to deal with, that hinder me, but that sense of self-doubt seems to be held at a healthy bay. I’ve learned that some self-doubt is good. We need to be able to question our abilities healthily. Can I do this realistically? If so, should I do this? And if not, I must be able to let go of it. There’s the real struggle. 

I needed the struggle of my twenties to get to where I am emotionally in my thirties. I needed that breaking of my ego to realize that I didn’t need to rely so much on my ego. Richard Rohr talks about this in his excellent book “From Wild Man to Wise Man”. If you are of the male gender, you must read it.

The hardest part of life is letting go. We usually associate that with the bad. I have to let go of my swing speed. (Well, I don’t, not yet, but I will eventually). I have to let go of the pain when I lose a loved one. I have a friend who’s father suffered a very serious fall. He lost much of his mobility, with just major motor skills remaining. If all the surgical and physical therapy options don’t work out, I pray that he’ll be able to let go of his former level of mobility and experience everything in life that he has at this moment. But we also have to let go of the parts of life we loved that are less tangible but are so easy to maintain a strangle on. I had a great high-school experience, especially my senior year. But that was over 10 years ago. It’s beyond time to move on. I’m not in high-school any more. I have over 10 years of multimedia development experience. I’m not the little kid begging for work, hoping you won’t see through some sort of façade that belies my inabilities. I had to learn to let go of that. Now, in a life that is closer to balanced, what can I hold on to? What do I have at this moment in time that makes it unique and infinitely livable to the point that I’ll need to learn to let go of it? So much. Family, immediate and extended. Friends. Church. A career. A better understanding of a God who sees me for who I am, and who I can be. My prayer for this season, “Grant me the strength to outdrive my little brother for as long as possible, and when I can’t do that anymore, let me keep my senility long enough to outsmart him in the rest of the game.” (He usually beats me anyway, but I’m longer and straighter off the tee.)