Wednesday, July 30, 2008

Kicking the Crutches

Last winter I broke my knee ice skating. (Yes, I'll go ice skating again.) It's one of those moments that I can use to show off wounds for years. There's a nice scar about 4 to 6 inches that stretches over my left knee. Ask me I'll show you sometime.

For about 6 to 8 weeks I had to use crutches to get around. I hated it. It was pretty hard to be immobile, but I got through it. Here are some observations I gathered during that time.

While I'm referencing literal crutches, I want you to look at the things you may be using as crutches in your life. Friends, relationships, alcohol, your job -- whatever.



Crutches are temporary:
You really aren't meant to be using them for very long. You have to focus on getting off them.

You aren't really walking:You are hobbling, you are just one step better than crawling.

Keep you safe:When you are on crutches you move slowly, constantly cautious about where you are stepping. You really aren't concentrating on anything but not tripping.

Crutches don't promote growth:You can't build muscle or strength if you aren't using your own legs. When you are leaning on something you aren't getting better.

They frustrate you:You know you can do better and its a test of patience.

Keep you dependent:You tend to trust your tools then who you are. You aren't challenged.

Flimsy:They don't really provide much support if you really needed it.

Wednesday, July 23, 2008

That's What Love is

I heard this song on the radio this morning. I don't know what's going on in your heart, I don't know what's happening with your "Love"...but I thought you might appreciate this...




THAT'S WHAT LOVE IS
By David Phelps
It’s the only thing worth life and death
It’s the first moment and the final breath
It’s a broken heart keeping a solemn vow
And a lost soul being found
You pray for faith when it’s hard to believe
You choose to stay when it’s easy to leave
And when hope is gone you’re the one who keeps holding on

That’s what love is
When you give until there’s nothing left
And it makes you give the very best
That’s what love is
It can make you laugh and make you cry
It can let you down and lift you up so high
When you find the only reason left to live
That’s what love is

It’s the dream you give up for someone else
It’s being strong when you’re weak yourself
Though it tears you up you trust again
Hatred loses and forgiveness wins
You turn your cheek when you want to fight
Sell all you have and lay down your life
And when hope is gone you’re the one who keeps holding on


It’s reaching out and holding on so someone else will know
Love is in the not letting go

Sunday, July 20, 2008

The Problem of Pain



So much off my life is about impatience. I hate to wait for things to happen. I like the quick fix and I like to make things happen. Right or wrong, I love to do it by the seat of my pants.

I’m about getting on the fast-track for a job (which I never have able to do), or having the right contact or taking one more assignment.

Most of you know I am going through a deep heartbreak and it cuts to the center of my soul.

Yesterday I as I was ambling through the streets of Chicago I was struck with an interesting nugget of truth. The problem of pain, isn’t pain its self. It’s how we seek to avoid it.

I am not talking about head aches or the hurt of a broken knee cap after an ice-skating mishap. (Yes, my knee is back to almost 100 percent. I am not running or jogging, but I didn’t do it that much before.) I am talking about the hard lessons of life. Losing a job, healing a broken heart, the death of a loved one or even hard, labor-intensive work – they all have something wrapped inside them that we have to go through to understand and grow from.

This description lacks biological depth but, It’s when a butterfly is in a cocoon – the butterfly has to fight its way out to be beautiful, other wise it would still be a caterpillar.

Twenty years ago in college – a close friend and staff member told me something very hard to swallow. But, yesterday I think I finally grabbed hold it. He said, “Dean, you typically avoid doing the hard-things.”

Yesterday somewhere between the Borders across from the Water Tower and the Chicago River I found it.

Every hardship usually has a lesson that we have to learn in the midst of it. It usually has a lesson about me that means I have to dig in and crawl through. It means I have to look myself straight in the eye and see myself. I have to take responsibility and I have to embrace the pain, before I get the lesson.

It’s kinda like this, up till recently, when I was bored – I would grab something to eat. Not that I was hungry, I wanted to be busy. I didn’t like being inactive. Other times, I’d get on the phone to talk to a friend rather than just be quiet and think… still other times, I’d jump online and surf the internet.

Nothing wrong with any of these activities, but they are often just spinning our wheels when we should be listening to ourselves think.

We seek to avoid discomfort. Actually, that’s WHAT we should be seeking. Something about pain and the unpleasant that makes us be honest, forces us to our knees to find an answer.

That’s why some people look to drugs and alcohol. Others in relationships – any relationship – or maybe it’s a new job. Change of scenery or personnel always gives you something to hope for rather than look inside. It could be a hobby. Just something to get our minds distracted.

Here’s my deep thought of the day. Pain hurts! But, it can heal us. You don’t have to like trouble, but you do have to go through it – eventually.

A wise friend of mine, used to tell me “you can’t outrun your problems.” You can’t. Those issues say more about who we are, why we are, and why we are were we are. Our issues aren’t built by situations, they are revealed by them.


I am a huge student of history and military conflict. So often when a major battle was underway, what did a solider do? He’d settle in for the long haul. Win or lose, they knew they would not be moved. In World War II and in other conflicts, they’d dig a fox hole.

In the movie Braveheart, William Wallace implored his men to fight and defend their lands. Even to the point of death they understood that it wasn’t about the fight, it was about the future of a free Scotland.

This is also about your own victory – It may not be quick, it may not be easy, but I believe you’ll be better for going through it and understanding why.

Here’s your shovel, let’s dig in.

Friday, July 04, 2008

Luckiest Man: Lou Gehrig retires on this date

This is a repost of a blog entry created July 4, 2008.







Sixty nine years ago today, Lou Gehrig said goodbye to baseball. Stricken with the early stages of ALS, Gehrig takes to the field at Yankee Stadium one last time. As you know, a great ballplayer who was part of those dynastic New York Yankees teams in the 1920s and 1930s.

Here's a tribute to him and the value of facing your adversity with a positive, conquering attitude.

"Fans, for the past two weeks you have been reading about a bad break I got. Yet today, I consider myself the luckiest man on the face of the earth.



I have been to ballparks for seventeen years and I have never received anything but kindness and encouragement from you fans. Look at these grand men. Which of you wouldn’t consider it the highlight of his career just to associate with them for even one day?


Sure I’m lucky. Who wouldn’t have considered it an honor to have known Jacob Ruppert? Also, the builder of baseball’s greatest empire, Ed Barrow? To have spent six years with that wonderful little fellow, Miller Huggins?

Then to have spent the next nine years with that outstanding leader, that smart student of psychology, the best manager in baseball today, Joe McCarthy?

Sure, I'm lucky. When the New York Giants, a team you would give your right arm to beat and vice versa, sends you a gift, that’s something. When everybody down to the groundskeepers and those boys in the white coats remember you with trophies, that’s something.

When you have a father and mother who work all their lives so that you can have an education and build your body, it's a blessing.

When you have a wife who has been a tower of strength and shown more courage than you dreamed existed, that's the finest I know.

So I close by saying that I might have been given a bad break, but I've got an an awful lot to live for. Thank you."







Gehrig's Obituary

Only death could stop him

Below is the heft of the original obituary. Though Gehrig's death was grieved by many, the event was (as Gehrig's luck tended to go) overshadowed by a bigger international event - Kaiser Wilhelm, despised German emperor that played a key role in World War I, died the same day.

Printed in New York Times, June 3, 1941:

Gehrig, "Iron Man" Of Baseball, Dies at the Age of 37

Rare Disease Forced Famous Batter to Retire in 1939 - Played 2,130 Games in a Row

Set Many Hitting Marks

Native of New York, He Became Star of Yankees - Idol of Fans Throughout Nation

Lou Gehrig, former first baseman of the New York Yankees and one of the outstanding batsmen baseball has known, died at his home, 5204 Delafield Avenue, in the [Riverdale] section of the Bronx, last night. Death came to the erstwhile "Iron Man" at 10:10 o'clock. He would have been 38 years old on June 19.

Regarded by some observers as the greatest player ever to grace the diamond, Gehrig, after playing in 2,130 consecutive championship contests, was forced to end his career in 1939 when an ailment that had been hindering his efforts was diagnosed as a form of paralysis.

The disease was chronic, and for the last month Gehrig, had been confined to his home. He lost weight steadily during the final weeks and was reported twenty-five pounds under weight shortly before he died.

Member of Parole Board

Until his illness became more serious Gehrig went to his office regularly to perform his duties as a member of the New York City Parole Commission, a post he had held for a year and a half following his retirement from baseball. Ever hopeful that he would be able to conquer the rare disease - amyotrophic lateral sclerosis, a hardening of the spinal cord - although the ailment was considered incurable by many, Gehrig stopped going to his desk about a month ago to conserve his strength.

Two weeks ago he was confined to his bed, and from that time until his death, his condition grew steadily worse. He was conscious until just before the end. At the bedside when he died were his wife, the former Eleanor Twitchell of Chicago; his parents, Mr. and Mrs. Henry Gehrig; his wife's mother, Mrs. Nellie Twitchell, and Dr. Caldwell B. Esselstyn.

It was said last night that funeral services would be private and would be held tomorrow morning at 10 o'clock in the Christ Episcopal Church in Riverdale. The Rev. Gerald V. Barry will officiate.

The body was taken this morning to the E. Willis Scott Funeral Parlor at 4 West Seventy-sixth Street.

Record Spanned Fifteen Years

When Gehrig stepped into the batter's box as a pinch hitter for the Yankees on June 1, 1925, he started a record that many believe will never be equaled in baseball. From that day on he never missed a championship game until April 30, 1939 - fifteen seasons of Yankee box scores with the name of Gehrig always in the line-up. He announced on May 2, 1939, that he would not play that day, and thus his streak came to an end.

But as brilliant as was his career, Lou will be remembered for more than his endurance record. He was a superb batter in his heyday and a prodigious clouter of home runs. The record book is liberally strewn with his feats at the plate.