Because Every Baby Is Royal

There are two young children who received a great deal of media attention this week.  The first, of course, is the baby now known as His Royal Highness Prince George of Cambridge, the son born to Prince William and his wife Kate this week in England.  Needless to say, the media coverage of Prince George's arrival was extensive, including many websites that featured around the clock live video coverage of the front door of the hospital where Prince George was born.  In addition to Prince George, there was second child that received a great deal of media attention this week.   His name is Patrick and he lives in Texas. Patrick is two years old and suffers from Leukemia.  Patrick's prognosis is good, but his treatments have caused him to lose all of his hair.  To express his love and his solidarity with his son, his father Jon decided to shave his head.  Many of Jon's work colleagues, also decided to do the same.  It just so happens that Jon and his colleagues all have rather interesting jobs.  They are all part of what is known as the “protective detail” for former President George Herbert Walker Bush.

When President Bush, now 89 years old, learned of Patrick's illness and saw that Patrick's father and his colleagues had all shaved their heads, he decided to do the same.  The photo above captures the delight that Bush seems to be feeling in his act of compassion and support (even if Patrick doesn't quite seem to notice).  President Bush and his wife, Barbara, are no doubt feeling a special connection with Patrick and his family, given that their daughter Pauline died from Leukemia at the age of 4 in 1953.

In honor of all the attention on the royal baby this week, I invite us all to pause and remember that, in fact, every baby, every child is royal.  Every child is equal in the eyes of the Creator, which means that no child is more special than any other.  Patrick is no more or less important than Prince George.  Every baby born this week, no matter what the situations or circumstances are, is royal.

It's probably safe to say that none of us will ever have a personal relationship with a child born to royalty in England.  Many of us though, know a child, like Patrick, who could benefit from a little extra attention and support.   As with President Bush, it might be the child of someone with whom we work--or it might also be a child in our neighborhood, a child we know from church, a child in our extended family, or a child we know through our volunteer work with an organization that serves children. My hope is that the picture of President Bush with Patrick might inspire each of us to look around in our corner of the world to find a child for whom we can do something special.  Doing something special for a child know will most likely require sacrificing our hair,  but it might require a sacrifice of our time, money, or energy.  Judging by the look on President Bush's face, we may find that in the efforts we make to assist a child that we actually reap as much as we sow.  Perhaps, most important of all, our acts of love and service to the children in our lives will show the world that we believe that every child deserves the royal treatment.

Practicing Curiosity

Regular readers of this column know that it touches on all aspects of wellness --emotional, spiritual, physical, relational, vocational, and intellectual. In this column wellness is the filter through which I observe and reflect on the world around us. And so it is through this filter that I reflect this time on the topic of racism in the light of the verdict regarding the death of Trayvon Martin. I cannot say with certitude exactly in what ways racial biases were a factor the night that George Zimmerman killed Trayvon Martin nor if it was with out a doubt a factor in the verdict that was reached regarding Zimmerman. It is hard for me to imagine, however, that racial bias was not a factor in what happened, simply because racial bias--often unconscious-- is so prevalent in ourselves and in our culture. What I can say from a wellness perspective is that when racism is present in any of us it is an indication of a low degree of spiritual, emotional, and intellectual wellness. Racial biases, like all biases, do not come from a place of strength or wellness.

Earlier this week I attended a national wellness conference and greatly enjoyed one of the break-out workshops that focused on the connection between humor and wellness. I will probably write more about this workshop in another column as it was so full of wisdom, but for now I want to share one particularly important insight. The leader talked about the many positive benefits of humor, i.e. how it helps us to manage our fears (think of all the jokes about growing older), and how it helps bring us together around common experiences ("It's been so hot this week in our part of the country, that......."). This kind of humor enhances wellness as it brings us together and helps us feel that we all in the situation together.

Our leader also pointed out though that humor can also tear down or diminish wellness when it is used as a weapon. Using humor as a weapon is the genesis of every joke that makes fun of and puts down a person or group of persons based on race, ethnicity, gender, sexual orientation, disability, or any other category. This kind of humor is rooted in insecurity and a lack of wellness, just like the kind of racial and other biases I mentioned earlier. This kind of humor is an attempt build up one's self or one's group at the expense of putting down another.

So what can we learn from all this? If we are committed to healing our biases toward people who are in any way different from us, and if we are committed to healing our own fears and insecurities that lead to our biases, is there something specific we can do differently? There are probably many things we can do, but one specific thing I would like to hold up for us--and I include myself in this as well--is to be more intentional about being curious.

When you have the opportunity to meet someone who is different from you, try practicing curiosity, working to get to know them. Curiosity is how we learn and grow. Whereas biases and prejudices are constrictive and cut off growth, curiosity is expansive. How many times have you had the experience of having your initial opinion or judgement of a person be completely transformed once you get to know that person more fully? Being curious enough about the new person to listen to their story is what makes that transformation possible.

It's worth noting that word curiosity comes from the same root as the words cure and care. To be curious is to care enough to get to know someone for who they really are. Think for a moment how wonderfully caring it feels when someone is curious enough to take the time to really get to know you and who you really are.

In closing, I would like to offer one other way in which practicing curiosity can help bring about cure. In light of the attention surrounding the Martin/Zimmerman case, I hope we will all take some time to be more curious about our own biases and prejudices-- racial and otherwise. High level wellness requires intentional, on-going self-reflection and along with a willingness to confess to ourselves ways in which we are not as well as we would like to be. This is why I believe that if we are willing to practice curiosity on a regular basis, we have a chance to create small steps toward a twofold cure. Not only do we create the opportunity to move one step closer to curing the prejudices and biases that haunt our society, but we also have the opportunity to move one step closer to curing the prejudices and biases that haunt our own hearts and souls.

The Ministry of Presence on a Bicycle at Twenty Miles Per Hour

As a priest and psychotherapist I often have the honor to be a part of a person's healing process.  Walking with someone as they heal from a loss or trauma is a sacred privilege.  This process of walking with someone as they work through a loss has been best described as a “ministry of presence.”  This ministry of presence is not just something offered by priests and therapists, but is something we all offer our friends and loved ones when we are present to them as they are going through a difficult time.  Last week I had the honor of being the recipient of the ministry of presence in a most surprising way.I spent last week riding my bike through Vermont, New Hampshire, Massachusetts, and a small part of New York  for seven days.  Thankfully, I was accompanied by twenty-one other riders, most of whom I had never met before.  This trip is an annual adventure for this group of Episcopalians, and my wife and I were fortunate to be invited to tag along.  Loving to ride I saw this chance to ride 385 miles with a group of avid cyclists as a dream come true.  I was right.  This turned out to be one of the best experiences I've ever had in my life.  Little did I know though that this ride would also remind me of one of the toughest experiences I ever had in my life.

The tough experience I am referring to is when I was hit by a car while riding my bike seven years ago.   It took me quite a while to physically recover so that I could get back on my bike comfortably.   I soon discovered though that while I could ride again physically, I was psychologically not able to ride if there were too many cars around as I would experience anxiety any time a car came near me.  In order to avoid the  memories and fears associated with my accident, I have ridden primarily  on bike paths and remote country roads since then, intentionally avoiding roads with much regular car traffic. I don't know what I was thinking when I signed up for this bike trip.  Did I really think I would be able to ride for seven days, through four states and never have to ride near cars?  From the very first day, there were several times each day when we were riding surrounded by plenty of cars.  Physically, I was in decent shape and felt strong for the trip.  Emotionally, though, I felt vulnerable when cars came near me, flashing back to memories of my accident. It was during those times, when I was most vulnerable, that I was able to experience the ministry of presence offered to me by my fellow bike riders.  I made sure that whenever cars were around that  that I was surrounded by other cyclists.  Their presence calmed my anxiety and helped me to feel safe, allowing me to ride through my fears and arrive safely at my destination at the end of each day.  And then, each night as we talked about what we experienced out on the road that day, I was able to talk through my fears with everyone and share with them how very much their presence meant to me.  I am eternally grateful now for my fellow riders and for the healing that took place for me last week.  That healing could not have happened without them. All of us know someone who is in a vulnerable place  because they have experienced some kind of  hurt or loss.  And all of us are that person at times.  People often ask me what they can do for someone they know who is hurting.  I always say the same thing, “Just be present to them.  Stay close to them.  Don't worry about what to say or do, just focus on being present and in time, healing will happen.”  As I learned last week, healing always happens best in the context of community, in the context of someone being present to us. Extending the ministry of presence to another needs to be as unique as the person being cared for.  It can be as simple as cooking a meal, making a visit, writing a note, making a phone call, cutting someone's lawn, running an errand or simply letting someone know that you are praying for them.  And... now I know that the ministry of presence can also be as simple as riding your bike with someone at twenty miles an hour on a busy road in Vermont.

Storm Chasers

I continue to pray for the people of Oklahoma who suffered such horrible loss from several devastating tornados there three weeks ago.  There continue to be many heartfelt stories coming out of the terrible losses that so many people experienced.  There are stories of great pain and heartache, along with stories of heroism and neighbors helping neighbors in both simple and profound ways. There is, however, a parallel series of stories that have also come out of these recent tornados and I find them quite perplexing.  These stories increasingly accompany all incidences of tornados and other types of severe storms.  What I am referring to is the stories of storm chasers.  Storm chasers are people who drive around in cars and vans to photograph tornados with the hopes of  getting as close as possible to them without getting harmed.  As far as I know, up until the recent tornadoes in Oklahoma this high risk practice by storm chasers had caused many close calls with disaster, but each time the storm chases had managed to avoid harm.  This all changed when three storm chasers in the same car were killed in chasing one of the recent Oklahoma tornados..  Those who died included a fifty-five year old seasoned storm chaser and his son.   Three other storm chasers were fortunate to survive even though the same tornado that killed the others lifted their van  into the air and dropped it 200 yards away.

In some ways I should not be completely surprised by the fact that some people love to chase storms. As a priest and a psychotherapist I have known many people through the years who also seemed to love chasing storms.  These storm chasers were of a different sort, in that they weren't chasing meteorological storms, but were chasing emotional and relational storms. They seem to find this other kind of storms to be exciting and in some way are drawn to them. These storm chasers are the kind of people who seem to always have some kind of “drama” in their lives.  The key word here is always, because people who are storm chasers seem to habitually be drawn to drama, negative people, and negative influences in their lives. They seem to always be either chasing or causing storms. While we certainly want to be compassionate with all people, and reach out and try to help them, we want to avoid getting unnecessarily drawn into the storms of others for our own sake.

In our Living Compass wellness program we talk a great deal about learning to live from the “inside out.”  Living from the “inside out' means making the intentional choices for ourselves that will enhance our emotional, spiritual, relational, and physical well-being.  It also means avoiding influences, people, and situations that will negatively affect our well-being.  If we find ourselves habitually surrounded by negativity of one sort or another then we will usually find that we are living form the “outside, in” and are allowing external forces to drive our choices.

Of course storms come in to all of our lives at times.  Unexpected things happened and we find ourselves in the midst of an unavoidable storm.  Job loss, health concerns, loss of a loved one, relationship conflict, organizational conflict, and depression or anxiety, are just some of the storms that can come into any person's life at any time.  Given this fact, I know for myself that I simply do not have the time or energy to be chasing other storms that are avoidable.  Besides, as we learned from what just happened in Oklahoma, chasing storms can be dangerous, even deadly--not just physically, but emotionally and spiritually.  That's why I, for one, will continue to try and avoid the storms I can, so that I have the energy and wellness to face and work through the storms that from time to time I must face.

Baseball and Dadisms

Babe Ruth hit his 714th and final home run on May 25, 1935 and my father was there to see it.  My Dad was twelve years old at the time and was at the game with his father at Forbes Field in Pittsburgh, PA.  Babe Ruth ended up hitting three home runs that day, but due to age and other factors he retired just a week later on June 2, 1935. My Dad passed away two years ago at the age of eighty-eight.  Shortly before he died I heard the story of Babe Ruth's last home run one more time.  (I never tired of hearing the story).  Even at the age of eighty-eight my Dad could still remember eight of the starting players for the Pittsburgh Pirates that day.   I miss my dad more than usual during baseball season because I have so many great memories of my Dad that are associated with baseball.  In fact, my earliest memory of my Dad is of him jumping up and down screaming in front of our black and white television when Bill Mazeroski hit a home run to win game seven of the World Series for the Pittsburgh Pirates over the New York Yankees in 1960.

While I attended and watched countless baseball games with my Dad, my best memories around baseball and my Dad have to do with him coaching me through Little League and on into high school.  Some of my favorite “Dadisms” have to do with him being my baseball coach.  Last month I wrote about favorite “Momisms” for Mother's Day, and so it only seems appropriate to share a few favorite Dadisms for Father's Day.  While the ones I share are specific to my Dad and baseball, I hope that they will remind you of some of the important lessons you have learned from your father, grandfather, uncle, or other important men in your life and what they have taught us about personal and family wellness.

“Keep your eye on the ball.”  This piece of wisdom was shared to make me a better batter.  The wisdom here is all about the importance of being focused.  The life lesson here is to “keep the main thing the main thing.”  Keep your focus on character and on the wisdom of the soul--avoid being distracted by the whims of the ego.

“Look the ball into your glove.”  This is a similar piece of wisdom, but related to being a good fielder.  The lesson here is again the importance of focus and concentration.   Errors are easily made if a fielder is looking to where they are going to throw the ball rather than focusing on watching the ball into the glove first.  The parallel to this in terms of family wellness is the gift we offer another person when we are truly present to them--when our conversation with them is all that matters to us at that moment.  Have you ever talked to someone at a party who you can tell was looking around the room wondering who they were going to talk to next?  That never feels good.  We need to avoid making that error in relationships in our lives.

“Shake it off.”  This was often said either after a tough loss, making an error, or getting hit by a pitch.  This was not only good advice, but it was a positive, hopeful message.  Things don't always go as planned.  We experience defeat and loss.  These things don't have to define us though.  When we are hurting--in life or in baseball--emotional and spiritual resiliency the key to recovering and moving on.

“Know what you are going to do with the ball before it's hit to you.”  This is great advice in baseball and in life.  Applied to baseball, it means know the situation--how many outs there are, what the score is, and how may runners are on base--before the ball is hit to you so that you there will be no hesitation what to do if the ball does in fact come to you.   Applied to life, it means we need to know our responses to both positive opportunities and potential negative influences before they arise.  Parents teach their children, particularly teens, to practice their responses to potential negative influences and temptations in advance.  This is great advice for adults as well. So those are a few of my favorite Dadisms from my father.  As you think of your father, or perhaps a grandfather, uncle, coach, teacher, or other important man in your life, I am sure you can come up with your own list of priceless words of wisdom.  If you have any that are particularly meaningful to you please share them here and I very well may share them in the future.  As Father's Day approaches, it's a good time to pause and give thanks for the presence of these men in our lives and the wisdom they have imparted to us.