Changing Channels

Goddess used to like to take long meandering walks. She would lead me block after block, going this way and that, sniffing this and sniffing that. We would often take a good hour before she was ready to lead me back home again.

This week, every single walk has been around one block. Taking a right out of the yard, we go a short distance to the marsh and walk along side it, then we turn the corner and in front of Shirley's house she likes to run out on the dock. Then it is to Art's for a treat and then...well normally she would pull me along towards back river or up to Butler Avenue. Now she wants to return home and there is no convincing her otherwise.

Something has changed.

It is all very much like the beach, everything looks the same but everything is different at the same time. Outside my house very much looks the same, but inside it is very different than it was just a few days ago. The pictures are different. There is new furniture. New plants. New artwork. All mixed in and rearranged with the things that used to be here. Thanks to my Mom, what used to be a beach house is now a more elegant beach house.

And of course my life has been changed over the past several months. And like the beach I am both the same and very different. But that is living life isn't it?

The other day my friend Hugh said, "I can only hope that things settle down for you sooner than later. I understand this can't be easy, but right or wrong you have to push through to the other side."

So that is what Goddess and I are doing. I think that Goddess needs the stability and security of home right now. Too much has changed for her. She stays very close to me when I am here.

And I am leaning how to change channels, moving from one section of the river of life to another. The water between channels can be awful rough and treacherous so you have to do your best to stay on your toes. But if you keep at it you can make a successful crossing and find yourself sailing calm seas.

There's an island in the ocean
where the people stay in motion.
Somewhere in the old Gulf Stream,
do they live or did I dream,
They were changing channels
Waiting for their sales to fill
Changing channels
always will

So sings Jimmy Buffett, and I take solace in his words and I understand that what I am doing is changing channels. But I am doing it so that I can find myself at the place where I want to be. Just like you.

Sun Breaks

This has been a mean and terrible winter! At the beach, days have begun with massive wet gray clouds hanging low over an angry ocean with a bitter and biting wind blowing from the Northeast. As I ran on these days my life seemed to blend into the grayness that surround me. Gray clouds. A gray ocean. Gray sand. My life had turned gray and gray is the color of sadness. And it seemed that the winter just wouldn't end and the sadness went on and on.

Then there were Sun Breaks. Few and far between at first. But over the months they became more frequent. Shirley showing up for cheeseburgers after I had uninvited her. Johnny O and Judy and the other John and Trolly Joe forcing laughter into the grayness. Stacy breaking in expressing a love that I didn't know was there. Keller with a knack for communicating at the most unusual times which always seemed to just the right times. Sandy and Dave presenting me with a special pen as a way of expressing thanks for the writing. And Jodee, Cheryl, Val and Nick, Ryan and my family at the Breakfast Club who have been there for so many years. And Herb. Tracy. And Jeremy, Marie, and Kristen. And Chelsea who had some of the funniest things that caught me so off guard the laughter exploded into the sadness. And my Mom who understood with a depth that I had not anticipated.

So then today, the sun was a firey orange ball that climbed out of a glassy, calm ocean into a bright blue sky where there were no clouds. As it rose, the wind ceased and bowed at the holiness of a new day. As I ran, the white sand glistened and it seemed as though the sun stopped for a last moment to kiss the sea before continuing its climb into the day.

It was all so beautiful and stunning that I literally had to stop and honor it. A deep expression of gratitude welled up inside of me and it erupted out of my throat as a sigh, which I think is one of the holiest of prayers. And I knew at that moment that everything was going to be alright. And Bob Marley suddenly rose from the dead and began singing again and again. Everythings going to be alright. Everythings going to be alright. Everythings going to be alright.

Why I Believe

Flying back from the Florida Keys yesterday, I watched the movie "Men Who Stare At Goats". I needed a diversion during the flight and absentmindedly chose this one. I am glad that I did.

Obviously a comedy, the film is about a military squad that believes it has super powers and can stare a goat to death, run through walls and use psychic thoughts to find people. Oh course, they do not, but they believe they do and that is what makes the difference. They believe. It doesn't matter what other people think. So they live their lives and complete their assignments as though the river of destiny is taking them to their purposes in life.

The humor is dark throughout the movie but I was struck by the principal theme. If you can believe in something, and sustain that believe in spite of whatever reality throws at you, then you have accomplished something supernatural. Something holy.

I think that this is what I have tried to do in my career. At the Jefferson Street Baptist Chapel we believed that a church could be reborn though it was surely dying and that it could impact an entire community. It had little going for it, but we believed anyway. And in a few short years it became a special place that people flocked to and it ended up making a very significant difference to that community.

And at Union Mission we believed that entire populations of sick, hurting, and lost people could be made well and make their ways home again. Even when they had no home to go to at all. And over the past two decades that is exactly what we have done though we had little to accomplish great things with in the beginning other than the fact that we believed.

Sometimes it is very hard to sustain the things that we believe in. There are those who believe that pain is necessary or that we must constantly adjust what we hope to accomplish in light of the realities around us. Alas, I am not one of those people.

I believe that we can all find happiness and love again even though the reality that we find ourselves in are void of these things. I have also learned that I am not a quitter. Everything takes longer than it should, I often tell people, and I keep at it even though nothing seems to be happening. I've learned that most people stop trying too soon and walk away from the possibilities.

Throughout the movie, men stare at walls willing themselves to run through them. Of course, every time they try, they hit the wall and knock themselves backwards to the floor. But they keep trying anyway. And at the end, one pulls it off and runs though a wall.

I count myself as one of these people. I'll hold on to my belief that walls of division will come tubbling down and that everyone can live happily ever after.

Being the Minister that I Am

I have moved further down the coast and spent last night with my dear friends Conner and Haniah. Today we are driving down to the Keys where I will don my clerical robe, over a pair of shorts and perform a wedding ceremony in my bare feet. Sort of Jesus Christ meets Jimmy Buffett!

Then again I have never been a conventional cleric. I never been conventional about much anything. But when it comes to religion, I believe that God wants us all to help one another out as best we can. Treat everybody else like you want to be treated pretty much sums up what Jesus had to say about living life.

And that is what I have tried to do. I haven't relied on institutional expressions of religion to do this because I have come to believe that treating others as you want to be treated happens when people actually interact with one another. Singing hymns, passing the peace, doing communion, and listen to someone expound for 20 minutes are not particularly germane to treating others as you want to be treated. Not that there is anything wrong with these things, or that I don't enjoy them from time to time, but that I find God when I am interfacing directly with others.

There are a lot of people who seem to prefer a minister who doesn't bring institutional stuff with me. So I get asked a lot to do weddings and funerals for people who believe in God and the Spirit but not so much in the church. So they get in touch with me. And I pick and choose how when I want to participate.

I am doing this wedding because Conner asked me to do it. I would do much anything for Conner as I know without a doubt that he would do anything for me. When my Dad died last summer they drove all of the way from Pampano Beach to Savannah just for the funeral. And there is a holiness to this kind of interaction between two people.

So that is the kind of minister that I am. It is all about what happens between two or three people at a time. Not necessarily all of that other stuff. And I think that God likes ceremonies in the cathedral that God built, which is this world, more than inside some musty building with stained glass windows.

But You Got to have Friends

I was in a meeting in Delray Beach, Florida yesterday visiting a homeless program called "The Lord's Place."

"That's quite a name you have," I said to the Executive Director, "it must be a bitch to live up to it all of the time."

She looked at me for a moment as though I were speaking another language, then she burst out laughing. She and I quickly found that we liked one another a lot and after spending the day together, made plans to visit one another again.

I was with Polly Seitz, Director of the Robert Wood Johnson Foundation's Local Funding Partnership Program, and Mary Kaplan of the New Hampshire Health Care Foundation. Both are friends. We've spent the last three days together looking at two amazing programs in south Florida. One is a 26 member collaborative and the other offers services to children who are primary caregivers to their parents. Holiness abounded in both meetings because special people were doing special things.

One of the ways that I have survived in my career for almost 30 years is to take advantage of opportunities to go and see what other people are doing. Staying at Union Mission all of the time leaves me self-absorbed. Seeing amazing people doing amazing things in other communities gives me hope. And ideas to steal! Probably half of what takes place at Union Mission was stolen from places that I have visited.

Fortunately, I take after my Dad, and have collected a lot of friends over the years. And last night, I was taken out to dinner by Hugh, Patti and Haniah. They are dear friends who live in south Florida and people who I really enjoy being with. They have been wanting to get together for the past several weeks and have been very supportive of the things going on in my life. So we drank and ate and laughed and hugged.

Today I am mindful of my friends. I am a very fortunate person because I have a great many who have taken the initiative to care for me when I haven't been in the best place to take care of myself. There are too many to mention but I think that I have thanked them all and told them how much I love them.

So, what keeps people homeless is their lack of significant social suppoort systems. Meaning they do not have family or friends. I am not homeless. I have a lot of friends who may as well be family.

The sun is bright in south Florida right now and it is warm and the ocean is blue and beautiful. This is the kind of environment that I enjoy. Almost as much as I enjoy my friends.

Sad Hero's

I flew down to South Florida and found myself sitting in the middle of about twenty members of the military who were returning to Iraq. Again. While their uniforms were crisp and smart, their attitudes were sad and weary. Most stuffed their backpacks in the overhead bins, collapsed into their seats, closed their eyes and fell asleep.

"Hello Sir," my seat mate said, giving me his hand.

"Good morning," I replied. "So you're going back?"

"Yes Sir, I'd much rather crawl in your bag and go wherever you're going?"

I immediately felt badly for him. "How many times?" I asked.

"This is only my third," he answered in a weary voice, "but most of these guys have been five or six times."

"Hard?"

"Yes sir. We'll be there for eight months, but they'll probably extend that. They normally do once we're there."

"Do you get time off when you're there?"

Well, we get some leave, but it's terrible. It gives you too much time to think."

Then he told me about his little girl and how the hardest part was leaving her. Then he joined his comrades and fell asleep.

As we made our way towards landing, the stewardess came over the intercom announcing that members of our military were on the plane, as if no one had noticed their uniforms, and asked that we thank our heroes for their service to our country. And applause burst out.

And every member of the military winced when this happened and it seemed as their sadness deepened. I told my friend to be safe, and he just nodded as he shook my hand and looked at me with far away eyes. And my heart broke for him a little bit.

I meet a lot of homeless veterans in my work. They thrive in the military and flounder when they no longer have the structured life. Once they are no longer hero's, many lose their sense of purpose and they flounder and they fail and they end up alone. While I admire the commitment of these soldiers and understand the need for their service, I've never been one for hero worship. And I certainly don't think that it does anyone much good.

And as the applause died down on the plane, and the far away look crept into the eyes of every soldiers sitting around me, I don't think that they appreciated it much either.

Attacking Life

Back in High School I played football and one of my coaches called me to the sidelines during practice and said, "You know what Elliott? Your problem is that you try too hard."

I remember being shocked. How can you try too hard? I was giving everything that I had in a game where coaches demand 100%on every play. My coach was surely an idiot. And though he may have been right about my ability to play football, he was wrong about the approach to living my life.

I attack my job. I go about living it with everything that I have. I try hard, push boundaries and have never met a rule, practice or protocol that I didn't question. I go head to toe with politicians, clergy, business leaders and famous people whom I've met. I've declared war on poverty, homelessness, AIDS, broken health care and an array of other plagues in our community. I beleive that great things can happen even when I'm surrounded by others who tell me that they cannot.

I attack my life. As hard as I work is as hard as I can play. On occasion I find myself with Bill Berry or Mike Conner or Johnny O and Judy or my son Jeremy and we can blow it out as hard as a group of drunken Hell's Angels on meth! Sometimes it's healthy to just be a boy againand play hard, especially given my career in a world where everyone demands everything all of the time.

I attack my need for solitude too! I am a contemplative soul and like to stare at the ocean and remind myself of my place in the world. I like to sit in the Cafe Express and sip coffee and watch people walk through the squares of Savannah. I sit on my back deck with my bare feet propped on the rail and am reminded that I am comfortable in my own skin.

And I attack love too. When I give it away, I give it all away, holding little back for myself. Talking to my friend Bill Berry yesterday, he said, "You throw it out there more than anybody I know and you've never cared about hiding your emotions." Or as my friend Mary Ann Beil told me recently, "More than anyone I know you try to live the most authentic life." I took this an ultimate compliment.

I am passionate about my friends. Many often move on from my life as they come and go or grow and change, but I rarely close doors and am forever seeking out old friends whom I haven't talked to in decades.

During a wedding ceremony officiated by my friend Bill, he quoted James Taylor (along with Jimmy Buffett and Jesus Christ --- the 3 J's he said).

"Try not to try too hard, it's just a lovely ride." I love the song but always recoil a bit at the line.

At 53, I think that I'll keep living this life of mine the way that I have. It is the only way that I am comfortable doing it anyway.

And who knew that James Taylor could have been a football coach?