Lessons from Max #6 | BE LOVED

Max loved to be loved.

It sounds pretty simple, right? It should be. But we often derail our fulfillment and well-being at just this point. What sounds simple in concept can be in practice, paralyzingly difficult.

We want to be loved. We like, even love, to be loved. However we may struggle with allowing ourselves to be loved. It is an issue of self-worth.

Lesson #6 from Max: ALLOW YOURSELF TO BE LOVED. 

I don't think Max ever had a day in which he felt unworthy of love. When he heard the vacuum fire up in my attempt to scoop up the thousands of fine blonde-red hairs from the carpet, floors or seemingly infinite spots, he didn't feel unworthy of love. As he played, or laid in the sun, in the back yard while I picked up his leave-behinds, he didn't feel unworthy. Max's only real vice was curling up and sleeping on a living room chair. I'd half get on to him. He'd climb down while giving me a you know you love me anyway expression.

There were the occasional folks that didn't care for Max. (See Lesson #4 | YOU ARE MORE). If he noticed at all, he chalked it up to their loss. (I know I did). I think in such encounters I could see a bit of wonderment in Max's eyes - "Hmmm, what was that? - and then it was gone.

When we really love, we expect to be loved... and don't get hung up on when love is not returned. So I guess I should amend Lesson #6 to: LOVE... AND ALLOW YOURSELF TO BE LOVED. Each of us is worthy of love. And the more we love, the greater our discovery and ability to be loved.

I knew I would eventually write Lesson #6 (and all of the Lessons from Max) on the last day of Max's life. Max became very sick very fast; with no hope of recovery. The last two days we spent with Max were horribly beautiful. (Wow, two years since, and my screen has suddenly become blurry.) We loved on Max, and though he could hardly stand, he allowed it. He loved it. Finally, on that afternoon we took Max into the Vet, we were crumbling. Max was not. A woman sat in the waiting room crying, having either received bad news or because she was there for the same reason we were. Max walked over and laid his chin on here knee. In his discomfort he comforted her. And he warmed our hearts and broke them at the same time.

Max allowed himself to be loved. And he taught me a lesson.

For now,
D

Lessons from Max #5 | DON'T FOCUS ON WHAT YOU'RE NOT

You may have figured out by now, if you've read previous Lessons..., that Max was very special to my family. He was very special to me. Max shared some great times and some dark. He was always there with his playful smile, his calm spirit, and his chin ready to rest on a knee; those expressive eyes calmly surveying.

But just in case you by now think I may be a little nuts, I will say it for the record: I realize Max was Canis Lupus Familiaris. I am fully aware Max was a dog.

He never tried to be anything else. I really don't know how self-aware Max was, but I'm pretty sure of this - he never wanted to be something else. Max didn't want to be a horse. Max didn't long to be a barn owl. Max was cool with being an over-sized blonde-red Golden Retriever. (If he wasn't, he never said anything about it to me.) In other words, Max didn't spend time or energy - or rob others of time and energy - trying to be something other than Max.

There is beauty in that. I wonder how much energy I have spent over the years pondering what I am not, rather than focusing on what I am; and working to be the best what I am that I can be.

And that is Lesson #5 from Max, DON'T FOCUS ON WHAT YOU ARE NOT. I think good writing, and motivational, technique should turn this into the positive: Focus on what you are. But I don't like that as much. Focus on what you are sounds self-serving and self-centered to me. And that is so far from Max's spirit.

When we DON'T FOCUS ON WHAT WE ARE NOT we are truly free to BE WHAT WE ARE! And that is liberating. That is is when we both find the most fulfillment and offer the most to others.

Thanks for the lesson Max.

For now,
D

Lessons from Max #4 | YOU ARE MORE...

Lesson #4 (from Max): 

DON'T LET ANYONE TELL YOU THAT YOU ARE ONLY A DOG. YOU ARE SO MUCH MORE... TO SO MANY!

Some saw a just dog when they looked at Max. Some saw more; a loving soul perhaps. Those who knew him best saw something deeper. 

One gorgeous late spring day, as was our habit, Max and I took
a walk by the lake. The paths were teaming with cyclists, runners, power-walkers and strollers (as in meanderers, though baby strollers too were being strolled, walked, run and cycled).

I should say that Max was very large for a Golden Retriever. As such, reactions varied when we came face to face with others on the paths. Most children wanted to pet Max, and the shoulder-threatening tug on the leash let me know, he desired the same.

Max seemed to smile at people. (I see it in the picture above.) Most people smiled back. Max relished the attention he usually received. A few people however, reacted differently to Max.

I remember particular back-to-back encounters on one section of the path that spring day. Twice, we approached walkers (actually, meanderers) coming our way. At both of these encounters, the person, and then persons, looked suspiciously at Max, next at me; then gave wide birth. Not just beyond-leash-distance. They stepped off the path and made a good 20' arc around us. One fully turned and never let us out of his sight. I remember thinking the reaction said much more about the man, and his experiences, than it said about Max. He didn't know Max; assuming he was just a dog. (He certainly couldn't see the smile.)

But Max was so much more to so many.

Most of us have been wrongfully accused of being just a... something (you can fill in your own blank.) Outward appearance or even failures of the past have led others to say, "...he's just a dog," and give wide passage. Here's a lesson from Max: Don't listen. Don't believe it. And never speak those words over your own life (or anyone else's).

First: their loss. Really.

Second: Their response probably says more about them than it does us.

Third, and most importantly: DON'T EVER LET ANYONE TELL YOU THAT YOU ARE JUST A DOG. YOU ARE SO MUCH MORE... TO SO MANY!

I believe I could see the confusion in Max's eyes when the few responded negatively toward my blonde-red buddy. But Max must have had the same memory constraints I do - it didn't stick with him long. Immediately the smile was back. The tug on the leash was there. And Max was already looking to be so much more to someone new.

For now...
D

Lessons from Max #4 | YOU ARE MORE...

Lesson #4 (from Max): 

DON'T LET ANYONE TELL YOU THAT YOU ARE ONLY A DOG. YOU ARE SO MUCH MORE... TO SO MANY!

Some saw a just dog when they looked at Max. Some saw more; a loving soul perhaps. Those who knew him best saw something deeper. 

One gorgeous late spring day, as was our habit, Max and I took
a walk by the lake. The paths were teaming with cyclists, runners, power-walkers and strollers (as in meanderers, though baby strollers too were being strolled, walked, run and cycled).

I should say that Max was very large for a Golden Retriever. As such, reactions varied when we came face to face with others on the paths. Most children wanted to pet Max, and the shoulder-threatening tug on the leash let me know, he desired the same.

Max seemed to smile at people. (I see it in the picture above.) Most people smiled back. Max relished the attention he usually received. A few people however, reacted differently to Max.

I remember particular back-to-back encounters on one section of the path that spring day. Twice, we approached walkers (actually, meanderers) coming our way. At both of these encounters, the person, and then persons, looked suspiciously at Max, next at me; then gave wide birth. Not just beyond-leash-distance. They stepped off the path and made a good 20' arc around us. One fully turned and never let us out of his sight. I remember thinking the reaction said much more about the man, and his experiences, than it said about Max. He didn't know Max; assuming he was just a dog. (He certainly couldn't see the smile.)

But Max was so much more to so many.

Most of us have been wrongfully accused of being just a... something (you can fill in your own blank.) Outward appearance or even failures of the past have led others to say, "...he's just a dog," and give wide passage. Here's a lesson from Max: Don't listen. Don't believe it. And never speak those words over your own life (or anyone else's).

First: their loss. Really.

Second: Their response probably says more about them than it does us.

Third, and most importantly: DON'T EVER LET ANYONE TELL YOU THAT YOU ARE JUST A DOG. YOU ARE SO MUCH MORE... TO SO MANY!

I believe I could see the confusion in Max's eyes when the few responded negatively toward my blonde-red buddy. But Max must have had the same memory constraints I do - it didn't stick with him long. Immediately the smile was back. The tug on the leash was there. And Max was already looking to be so much more to someone new.

For now...
D

A Stumbler's Walk | THE MOST IMPORTANT WORDS...

Some words cut through time's folded fabric like a warm knife through microwaved butter: I have a dream... Four score and seven years ago... A day that shall live in infamy... Et tu, Brute?

I remember my high school physics teacher saying that every word every spoken on earth is still sound-waving around the universe. And if we knew where and how to tune in, we could hear them all. I don't know if that is technically true or not, but the thought is a little awesome.

What I do know is that some words carry weight, a power and authority, that reverberates. Among the most powerful words ever spoken were those spoken in a nearly empty place, by a stone-roller (not to be confused with... never mind).

Angels perched on top of massive grave-stone blockades demand one's attention. The words the angel spoke, sliced eternity.

HE IS NOT HERE,

HE HAS RISEN!

Apparently angels really like saying this. The gospel accounts of the resurrection indicate it was proclaimed at least a few times. My guess is that He ain't* in that hole in the ground... He is risen! was shouted around the halls and hills of heaven repeatedly. It probably still is. 

These aren't just pleasant religious words. If true, they cannot be ignored - they change the game. My goal in this very short post is not to prove or disprove the angels' words (or that there are such thing as stone-rolling angels). Though my mind is a skeptical one, this truth is one I chose a long time ago. And it is one I choose every day - often through struggle. 

HE IS NOT HERE, HE IS RISEN... fills me with hope. 

HE IS NOT HERE, HE IS RISEN... challenges me. 

HE IS NOT HERE, HE IS RISEN... provides peace. 

HE IS NOT HERE, HE IS RISEN... changes everything!

In the early church, one would stand before the group and proclaim, "He is risen." To which the congregation responded, "He is risen indeed." 

And angels said, "You got that right!"

For now...

D

*Okie Angels

A Stumbler's Walk | WHAT'S SO GOOD ABOUT FRIDAY?

I think what we call "Good Friday" was, on that first "Good Friday," not so good to those in attendance.

Some couldn't see past the brutality and the loss. Tears blurred their vision, and bloody bruises distorted the face of the One in whom they hoped. A day they thought would never come - Bloody Friday. Life was dying. Light became dark.

Others looked through mocking eyes and with sneered lips. Finally this usurper hung battered and disfigured before them; dying in full shame. He had challenged everything they believed. He called out their hypocrisy. Finally, a day they thought would never come - Bloody Friday. 

Friday was a bloody day. It was not a pleasant day for reminiscing. It was a day of death. It was a day of earthquakes and darkness. It was a day (the only of which I know) of God turning his back.

Friday was a bloody day. But yes, it was a good day. Beyond what eyes could see and hearts dared believe, it was a good day. Because Friday was a day of sacrifice. The Sacrifice. Friday was a day when love personified killed death by dying. He killed sin's power by becoming sin.

Yes, Sunday is coming - with it's sunlight and empty tomb. But Sunday is the unveiling of Friday's victory. The victory of Bloody Friday.

God, thank you for Bloody Friday. Thank you for forgiveness so horribly won.

For now...
D

Lessons from Max #3 | IT'S ALL ADVENTURE

As soon as I saw you, I knew the adventure was about to happen.

- Winnie the Pooh

Max was always up for an adventure. And for my blonde-red buddy, just about anything fit the bill. A car ride was Disneyland - whether it led to a walk by the lake (one of our favorites), or a trip to Walmart (not). "Wanna go for a walk?" caused the skip-dance (See Lesson #1). Max discovered things - inanimate objects, other dogs, people, etc. - on every walk that I might have just breezed past. He investigated. He invested.

Max loved new places and old. Familiarity never dulled the adventure. He especially loved meeting people, even the few who weren't so excited about meeting him. (Some noticed his 100 pound frame before seeing the smile in his eyes.) He investigated. He invested. For Max it was all an adventure.

Fill your life with adventures, not things. 

Have stories to tell, not stuff to show. 

- Anonymous (one of my favorite authors)

It is easy to be ensnared by the mundane. Status quo is a padded bear-trap that causes no immediate pain, but hampers our mobility and ultimately drains vitality. Like the proverbial elephant cruelly conditioned by a leg chain to not venture out, we fail to realize what traps our spirit and kills our sense of wonder are chains of our own making (or at least our empowering). 

Sometimes adventure requires a flight or a boat - a trip to an exotic locale. More often the best adventures are embarked upon with a simple decision: A "hello" that leads into an engagement more easily avoided; a turn to the road less traveled. Adventures come in all shapes, sizes and flavors. Whatever form our adventures take, they share this in common: Adventure fills the soul. 

Ultimately, adventure is attitude. It is a glint in the eye, a fire in the heart. And the best news? An adventure attitude can be cultivated. This fire can be stoked. A first step creates desire for another. Each taste deepens the appetite. So step. Taste. Investigate. Invest. 

The road goes ever on and on, down from the door 

where it began. Now far ahead the road has gone, 

and I must follow, if I can.

- J.R.R. Tolkien

I will investigate. I will invest. After all... it's all adventure. Thanks for the lesson buddy. 

For now...

D