These Ten Things

For the last thirty years, more or less, I have spent oodles of time (in dog years, several lifetimes) investigating various allegations, hearing allegations about various issues, or mediating various disputes between people.  From this collected experience I have condensed some of the lessons I have learned into the following:

1.  I don't know everything.

2.  Be patient with people who claim to know everything about something, especially if the topic they think they know everything about is a hot-button issue.

3.  The wisdom of my dad has been borne out more than once.  Keeping an open mind is extraordinarily difficult.  He said some people don't want to be confused with the facts because their mind is already made up.  There are at least two sides to every story, a fact I have learned over and over.  It is easy to jump to a conclusion having heard the first person's version, and very hard to wait before passing judgment until hearing the rest of the story.  (Remember Paul Harvey's radio pieces?)

4.  Things can look very different depending upon where one sits.  The manager with a budget and a CEO to whom she reports has a different perspective than the individual performer who is responsible only for day to day work output, who may never know about the others on the staff that are creating all the other headaches for the manager.  Anyone who has ever been to a sporting event of any kind knows the difference between the view from the cheap seats and that of courtside or the fifty-yardline or just behind the dugout, etc. 

5.  Experience matters.  It is one thing to make the call when playing the game, but it is completely different to sit at home  -- especially if one has never played the game or never coached or refereed ... or take your pick. This applies in many areas of life.  People are quick to complain about schools, the courts, the FBI, public servants of all types -- but how many people outside the education field really know how to measure a good teacher?  How many outsiders know what makes a good experienced FBI agent -- or a Treasury Agent?

6.  Some people believe their own b.s.  They may not be intentionally lying (at least not in their own eyes), but they have told the same story so many times they begin to believe it really did happen that way.  You could show them a picture of the same incident and they would accuse you of photoshopping it.  For whatever reason the truth is too painful, and the lie is their now their truth.  Breaking through will be tough.

7.  The really smart people are the ones who admit their faults, tell the truth, and stick to the facts.  They stay within their zone of competence and let others do what they have been picked to do.  Then they do their job and don't worry about the rest of it.

8.  Saying I made a mistake and I'm sorry will go a long way toward fixing things.  Maybe not everything, but a lot of things.  It will also help one's credibility with almost everyone.  Might I add, it is not enough to say, "Mistakes were made."  It must be, "I made a mistake."

9.  I'm sorry is not enough.  "I will fix it" must be added, and preferably, immediately.  That can be impossible sometimes though.  Unbreaking a heart, for example.  So, it may have to be simply, next time I'll do better.

10.  Balance is critical, as is deciding when to conclude.  In every investigation there comes a time to decide if it is time to conclude, whether it is thorough enough, or if there is a danger of being too rushed and not making good decisions.  The same goes for hearings and trials, whether a case has reached the stage that all of the evidence that needs to be admitted is in the record and anything else would be duplicative.  In mediation the call is almost simpler, and yet harder.  Keep going until there is an agreement (resolution of the dispute), or the mediator has to decide when the parties have reached the point of impasse (it is futile to continue). 

This is the conclusion.  I am joyful for this day and every day.  I live, I love, and I grow.  Thus may it ever be.

Love is Kind, Etc.

It's been almost twenty-four hours and the earth has not rotated off its axis, so I think it is safe to say it now. I went to church two weeks in a row.  I'm not making any promises to keep it up or make it a trend, but it did fill my heart.  Plus it was nice to  hear the continuation of the readings.  And even though this priest could not have discussed his sermon with the priest I heard last week because it was a different church, they were in tune because of the way the readings continue a theme week to week.  That is one of the things I enjoy about the liturgical approach to worship.  Right now the subject has been the duty of the prophet to speak the message, and also how unappreciated the prophet likely will be among those who knew him or her first.

The main focus, however, and what has stayed with me longer, is the discussion about the second reading, one of my favorite passages of Scripture, familiar to so many people, and read at almost all Christian weddings.  In Paul's first letter to the Corinthians he describes the attributes of love:

• Always patient and kind
• Never jealous
• Not boastful or conceited
• Never rude 
• Never seeks its own advantage
• Does not seek take offence or store up grievances
• Does not rejoice at wrongdoing but finds its joy in the truth
• Always ready to make allowances
• Always ready to trust, to hope, to endure whatever comes
• Never ends

But most of us only think about this love in the romantic context.  Love is love, period.  If you really love someone, these are the requirements.  Otherwise, your love falls short.

Now for the zinger.  We are told to "love your your neighbor as yourself" and to "love your enemies."  Between neighbors and enemies most everyone is covered in that commandment.  So if we really say we have love in our heart for our neighbors, our fellow Americans, our country itself, our family -- and daresay, our enemies? -- can we live up to these characteristics?

How can we say we love our country and take any pleasure at all in "our side" of the dysfunctional Congress we have?   Or some of the other sad name-calling and anger that seems to pervade our society?  I don't know exactly when or how it got this way, and in a sense it does not really matter.  Rather, I for myself, commit to always be ready to make allowances, to trust, to hope, and to endure whatever comes.  I plan not to seek for my own advantage.  I will try not to take offence or store up grievances (that's a tough one).  And I will definitely find joy in the truth and not rejoice at wrongdoing.

"Never rude" may be another hard one for me, especially in traffic.  But I commit to work on it.

Love works miracles.  I have seen it happen.  One at a time.  And it starts with me.

But I must say that I am so grateful for all the people that love me.  It makes it so much easier to love others.

Quiet Harbor

How many people in your life have known you since you were in kindergarten?  Or junior high school?  What would you give to be able to see those people every single year?  (Okay -- some of them you may not want to see, but suppose it is the group you really like.)  I am part of such a group.  We meet in January for a weekend.  Bring your spouse if he or she is willing.  Come for the entire weekend or whatever portion is available.  Bring the food you are assigned and the beverage(s) of your choice.

By now we have been friends for many (five? six?  not possible!!) decades, and some of the jokes go back that far as well, but they are still just as funny as the first time we heard them.  The women do not have gray hair.  The men do not have hair.  Okay, well some of them do.  What hair they have is gray though.  A few of us are very slim.  A few.  I'll leave it at that.

We go for long walks on the beach.  Some walk longer than others; some walk faster than others.  Some stay back at the house and talk while the others walk.  Some stay up late at night and talk.  Others slip off to bed at 10:00 and are the first ones up the next morning.  Some years we play games -- cards, dominoes, board games, Wahoo.  This year I think all the games stayed in the boxes.

We catch up on the events of the past year.  Whose children are doing what?  Who has new grandchildren?  What's your brother doing now?  How are your parents -- although increasingly, it is more likely, how is your mom (or your dad)?  And increasingly, the answer is, she's okay, but going downhill a bit.  We go over who from our class is no longer with us.  (This year there are three.)  And we remember those we have loved and lost.  We tell and re-tell those stories.  We laugh and we cry.  That is our love for each other.  We are no longer so reluctant to say we love each other, because we know how quickly time passes and how possible it is the person we are talking to today may not be here tomorrow.

So when I drove away from the beach house named Quiet Harbor just after noon Sunday my heart was very full.  Full of joy and love and gratitude for these wonderful friends and a beautiful weekend away from the rest of the world.

Not far away is the place where my mother lives, and I paid her a surprise visit.  She was very happy.  A couple of hours later I visited my mother-in-law.  When I was getting ready to leave she was very disappointed.  She is blind and could not see exactly where I was standing.  So she asked, "Where is What's-Her-Name?"  I said, "I'm right here."  I told her, "I'm not going to leave you.  I have to go to work and I'll be back soon."  I know she won't remember, but I kissed her and told her I loved her, just as I did my mother. 

And just as I did my friends.  The lesson of Quiet Harbor.