Learning Life from a Surfer Dude

Wipe Out is a surfer dude. He works from his van doing tech work for a large corporation, but his real gig is riding the waves on his 5 ½ foot board. He grew up on the north shore of Oahu and felt more at home on the crest of a wave than he did walking down the street of any city he ever visited. He earned his nickname, Wipe Out, the hard way. He challenged the surf on the Banzai Pipeline and had his share of wipeouts before he was 12. His persistence owed more to the big brother who kept throwing him back into the surf than any real courage or character.

He moved to California after high school, where he completed part of a tech degree. He left school and got a job with a large company doing tech support for their network servers. Having learned the value of getting back up on the wave after it tosses you off, Wipe Out began to move up in the company. He became a valuable part of the team but yearned for the feel of the waves under his feet.

 

After 15 years on dry land with only occasional respites on waves, he decided it was time to move on. He tried to resign, but his supervisor would not let him. Wipe Out was offered a three-quarter time position that he could do on the road. He paddled into that opportunity like a wave rolling down the pipeline. Wipe Out bought a van, installed plenty of tech, and hit the road, traveling up and down the West Coast for the next 8 years.  

 

Unfortunately, COVID nearly wiped out Wipe Out. He was hospitalized in San Diego for several weeks. After getting out, he returned to his van but struggled to walk to the beach. Riding the waves was not an option.  

 

During this imposed hiatus from surfing, Wipe Out’s life on the waves bore the sweetest fruit. He applied the lessons of the waves and found a more meaningful way of life. 

 

First and foremost, the waves taught him to be honest with himself. He had seen many of his friends get seriously injured when they took on a wave that was more than they could handle. Everyone pushes their limits, but only fools take on a wave they have no chance of riding. This honesty demands a clear view of ourselves and the waves. He knew he was good as well as his limits after a lifetime of wiping out. He knew that some waves were beyond his skills and should be allowed to roll on by. Ego and pride would not help him when a monster wave comes crashing down while in the pipe. Honest self-knowledge was the only thing that could save you. Wipe Out accepted that now was a time to let the big ones roll by and listen to the smaller ones, inviting him to try again.

 

The second, but no less critical, is holding on to the love in his life. He was filled with a love for life while on the crest of a wave. He had dedicated this life to finding and holding on to that love, which made all the difference. It got him out on the board, even when he was tired. It opened his eyes to the waves as they approached. His love helped him know when to start paddling to catch the wave. It was all he needed before, during, and after the ride.  

 

When Wipe Out first became sick, he was tempted to lay back and feel sorry for himself. But his love told himself that he may as well sit back and let his body heal. The sooner he recovered, the sooner he would return to the waves. As the days became weeks and months, his love kept him going.   He developed new eyes to see and ears to hear that love in his life. As he became better at seeing that he was beloved, this love allowed him to ride the waves of time as well. He felt life beneath his feet, and the love welled into his soul. It was the same love he had known all his life, and it supported him on the crests, through the tubes, and into the troughs.

 

Wipe Out came to see himself as Love-Worthy, a creation of love in the universe. Love was not something he earned. It was a natural part of who he was. He did not have to earn his place in the universe.   He, and every other human being, had that place reserved and prepared for them. By knowing himself to be love-worthy, he could face eternity, with all its unknowns, and that made rising each day much easier.

 

I will always remember and cherish knowing Wipe Out. He rode the waves of love that brought him to the present. And sent forth waves of love down through time that others have ridden during their time on the waves. It was enough just knowing we are of, by, and for love. We can fearlessly celebrate the eternity that surrounds all of us. Thank you, Wipe Out! You taught me more than you will ever know.

Oscar's Mysterious Hope

It has been a long year.  Oscar lost his job in February, developed Long COVID in June, and is unable to work.  The family depends on his spouse’s single salary. He has every reason to be an angry, bitter man.  But instead, Oscar adapted to his new circumstances.  He calls it “Having hope in the ‘I don’t Know’.”  Given how he grew up, this is not that strange.

 

Oscar’s family understood and appreciated the “I don’t know” about life.  His Mom and Dad were very honest with him.  If they could not answer his questions, they replied with “I don’t know.”  If possible, they would help Oscar find an answer.  But they were also very comfortable with “I don’t know.”  For them, there was a lot of mystery in life.  And Oscar learned to appreciate a good mystery.

 

Oscar was named after his Great-Grandfather, who immigrated from Ireland because of the Potato famine. Great-Grandpa, his daughters, and sons made their way in a new world that was a real mystery to them.  They made do with what they had and created new lives.  Their story tells of generations of resilience in the face of adversity.  Oscar was very fortunate to have grown up in this family.

  

His Dad grew up on the poor side of lower, middle class.  They never had much but managed to have enough.  He managed to make do.  Oscar never had a new bike. He bragged that he never worried that it would get stolen.  And, even if it did, there was no doubt he would make do until he could get another one.   It was a family tradition.

 

His Mom was the ultimate Depression baby.  She could stretch money, food, and anything else until it covered what she needed covering.  If she ran out, she assumed it was not all that important.  And, if it was important, she saved up for it.  Oscar always had a full stomach, and his clothes were clean, even if they had a patch or two.  Oscar was okay with not knowing, because he felt safe, secure, and loved.

 

Oscar was comfortable with “I don’t know.”  He did not assume that the world was out to get him.  The world was not something he feared.  He was okay with it being a mystery. This gave him a natural resilience.  During “hard times” he found a way to make do.  For him it was a way of life that he understood from birth.  Mystery was not the enemy.  

 

Some of his friends had far easier lives. But when they hit a big hurdle, many just gave up. They let their fears and inexperience with hurdles get to them.  They worried and fretted about stuff that had not happened yet. Oscar believed that they didn’t know any better.

 

Some of his friends believed that the world was against them. Many went to church to protect themselves from the evil in the world. Others did not believe there was anything that could protect them. Their lives were driven by fear.  That fear led them to try and control as much of their world as they could.  But Oscar did not feel the fear of the unknown.   Nor did he feel driven to explain and control it.  

 

Strangely, Oscar found comfort in those “I don’t knows.” He found great solitude and rest for his weary soul in the mystery that surrounded him.  He does not take responsibility for the universe.  He fixes what he can, but he is not responsible for what happens beyond his control!  Oscar is at peace with the world.  He lives in it and allows it to unfold without unnecessary interference from him.  Oscar believes that the mystery is a place to rest his weary soul.

 

Ultimately, Oscar goes to sleep each night with hope.  This lets him to rise the next morning to face another day, expecting that somehow things will work out. The world is not against us.  In fact, all creation is on the side of life itself.  And if we too seek life for all, we will have ample reasons to find hope in the mystery and rest for our weary souls.

Jim's Overthinking

Jim was an inveterate overthinker, a well-practiced fretter, and a consummate detail planner. He did not allow any potential problem to go unnoticed and would sacrifice today's joy for the mere possibility of a trouble-free day tomorrow. His wife, Cindy, had learned to live with his "special gift."  But when he canceled a trip of a lifetime because he had to take care of a potential problem with the house, she decided it was time to sit down and talk.

 

They had been planning this cruise for months. It was supposed to be the trip of a lifetime, and Cindy was all but packed and ready. That was when the inspection report on the house came back. "Termites!"  They were in a small corner section of the garage. Jim was worried, as usual. He immediately began seeing the walls filled with the little "demons" as they ate away at his "castle."  He saw his life savings draining away.   The costs of rebuilding and putting off retirement for a few years were too much for him. This worry had accumulated over the 24 hours since they got the report. Cindy knew what was coming.

 

Jim started, "I don't know that this is the best time to take that cruise. Termites can eat up our whole house; before you know it, we will have nowhere to live. We need to stay in town and take care of our home."

 

Cindy had heard all this before.   And she was ready for it!

 

Cindy replied, "Are you saying we need to personally stay in town and start treating the house for termites ourselves? I am not sure I know how to do that. Do you?"

 

Jim looked at her, "Well, no, not us personally, but…."

 

Cindy interrupted, "Then we can get someone else to treat the termites. Doesn't that take a week or two, and when done, don't they give us a certificate insuring us against further damage?"

 

Jim jumped in, "Yes, but…."

 

Cindy interrupted again, saying, "The report says the damage is minor, and we can't fix anything until the treatment is done. We will be back in time to start getting estimates and overseeing the repairs. Why should we postpone our trip?"

 

Jim didn't jump quite so fast this time. He sat there looking at Cindy and the report in his hand.

 

Cindy pressed on, "I'll call the inspector and schedule a time for his crew to start the work. He said they could be here tomorrow. Meanwhile, you start taking care of stopping the mail and all the other stuff. I am so excited about the trip. Aren't you?"  Jim's only response? "Yes, dear. Of course, I am."  

 

Cindy could see that her loving husband was making a catastrophe out of something that was, at that point, a relatively simple problem. His fears grew from a lifetime of dealing with problems by stepping in and "taking care of business."  He was a problem solver and believed it was better to "nip" a problem in the bud before it grew into a tree. Unfortunately, he let his pride in being a problem-solver overrun his common sense. He was a conscientious guy, but he hated being wrong. And he would not allow a small problem to get the best of him.

 

Cindy understood that Jim needed a little humility to let go and lighten up about those termites. Humility means taking an accurate assessment of our life. Jim needed to remember that he would not solve this problem personally. He had to trust the experts. He had to learn that not every story is a tragedy waiting to happen.

 

The word "catastrophe" comes from the literary structure of the Greek and Roman tragedies. It refers to the plot getting turned over when the fatal flaw in the main character finally destroys their life. Catastrophe means "to overturn."  It is the natural and expected conclusion of any tragic story. Cindy understood this. And for Jim, every story was a tragedy waiting to happen.  

 

When we hear ourselves starting to become "an inveterate overthinker, a well-practiced fretter, and consummate detail planner," we need to stop and remind ourselves that not every story is a tragedy. Let go and lighten up! Don't take yourself so seriously! Acquire a little humility. Do what you can and let others handle the problem if they are better equipped.   Allow yourself more joy. Unfortunately, most never see this "catastrophic thinking "coming. Hopefully, we will have folks around us who care enough about us to help us see it for ourselves. We all need a "Cindy" to help solve this "Jim" problem.

 

Let Go! Lighten Up! And enjoy!

The Wisdom of Young Age

Ancient wisdom teaches, "The hurrier I go, the 'be hinder' I get!"  Well, maybe not ancient, but really old wisdom. Clark liked to be ready and did not like to be caught unprepared. Unfortunately, this meant that he would sometimes miscalculate the future and end up being surprised when his plans did not work out as he had planned. If that meant his timetable was interrupted, there was only one solution. He would speed up to make up for lost time. Such hurried behavior seldom turned out well, and Clark would not end up further behind and deeply frustrated with life. Hence, the ancient wisdom.

Clark struggled with this scenario his entire life until just before I met him. He had been diagnosed with terminal cancer the month before I met him.   and was given 6 months to a year window before it took his life. Clark had learned a great deal in that month. This is the story of that month.

The First Week – After hearing the news, Clark was frantic to find another doctor, another treatment, anything that would push back the inevitable. He had a handful of straws and was plucking them one by one. But each one was shorter than the last. Every doctor said the same thing. Every website that promised recovery turned out to be selling "snake oil."  As that week ended, he discovered that he had not changed the end date. Instead, he had lost 7 precious days.

The Second Week - It was then that Clark got depressed. He realized he had wasted a week feeling sorry for himself by grasping at illusions. Clark began to feel the fragility of life. He wanted more than his prospects seemed to allow. Unfortunately, he had no idea how to do that.  

The Third Week – Leaning into an old pattern, Clark figured he needed to hurry up and get more out of his dwindling days. Clark called his travel agent and made travel plans. He looked at Broadway shows and started figuring out how he could pay for a week in the Big Apple.   Clark hurried to get everything on the plan before his tumors stole his energy. As the week ended, he had grand plans but little else to show for his efforts. He lost another week.

The Fourth Week – This week began with a visit from his 10-Year-Old Grand-daughter. She and her mom stopped by to see how he was doing. She was a candid child and asked him, point blank, "Grandpa, are you going to die?"  With a bit of a catch in his voice, he said, "Yes, I am, and sooner than I want."  She replied, "Well if you are going to be leaving us, why do you want to go away on long trips? Don't you want to spend time with us?"  

A child's innocent honesty finally broke through a lifetime of needing to be in control of his life. He now understood that he needed to let go of his impatience. He wanted to enjoy life and spend time with the people he loved. He still had a good life, and it was meant to be enjoyed and celebrated, not hurried through and improved. She was exactly right. It was time to be patient with life. He was never in control, anyway. That was the grand illusion, and it took a terminal disease and a loving, honest child to help him see through it.

"You are absolutely right. There is nothing more that I want to do than spend whatever time I have left with you and the rest of the family. It may not be long, but it will be a great time."

His granddaughter reached up and hugged his neck, and suddenly, he felt he was right where he was supposed to be.

I met Clark a few days after he had time to think about his situation.  

Clark told me, "I am learning to be patient with my life. I hope I have the time to trust it enough to place myself in the hands of eternity. And eternity starts right now!"

Clark taught me that things have a way of working themselves out and do not always need a lot of "management" by us.   And not everything we ever wanted is worth the price of getting it. Sometimes we have to let life take the lead on the dance floor, move with the rhythm, and enjoy our dance partners.

Love in the Long-Term

Sandy and James had grown up together. Their families lived in the same neighborhood, and they met their first day at the park with their moms. They became best buddies.  

 

When the other kids teased them about being a couple, James insisted that he didn't like "Girls!" and Sandy would just blush.

 

As time passed, they continued to be best friends, insisting that nothing was romantic going on.   They dated other people and remained friends. When they graduated from high school, they chose different colleges and parted ways.

 

But after college graduation, something happened. They both returned to their hometown. James no longer saw the little girl in pigtails. He saw a young woman of mystery and could not get her out of his mind. She no longer saw her freckled-faced friend. There was something very different about James, and she couldn't figure out what was different.

 

Well, you know the rest of the story. That mystery became wonder and awe. Love began to blossom. They were married within a year of coming home. Fast forward about 45 years. 

 

Yep, still in the same town. Both have had successful careers. The kids are grown and out on their own raising the Grands.  

 

One day, their oldest Grand-daughter, Mindy, was visiting and told them, "Gramps and Granny, you two are amazing. After all these years, you two are still lovebirds. What's your secret?"

 

James spoke up first, "I don't have a clue. I know that I have known your Granny all my life and we have been friends all that time. But ever since I got back from college, she has been the biggest mystery in my life. I know stuff about her, but there is so much more to her. I don't suppose I'll ever figure her out. And that makes me want to know more."

 

Sandy chimed in, "I thought I had him figured out several times, but then he went and did something that really surprised me. I know a lot about him, but I have had to spend a lifetime getting to know him. And I am not sure I ever will!"

 

Mindy shook her head and smiled. "So, the secret to your relationship is that you are both mysteries to each other, and you want to figure each other out?"

 

Sandy replied, "Yes, but it is more like, we like the mystery. It keeps the zip in our step."

 

Mindy figured she had heard enough and said, "That is almost too much information."

 

Gramps then responded, "Well, you asked!"

 

Later that day, Mindy thought about what they had said and started to believe that mystery must be important to long-term love. She had had boyfriends but no real lovers. Maybe her life needed a mystery person. "Hmmm!" she thought to herself.

 

Love introduces us to Mysteries beyond our imaginations, but only if we respect the mystery and do not rush to fill in the space with half-baked explanations. In fact, when love surprises us, we do get "zip" in our step! Without mystery, love falls flat into daily life's mundane, routine muddiness. There is no wonder, no awe, and no surprise. But when mystery surrounds the love of our life, we walk through days filled with all three. We wonder. Our souls fill with awe. And our mind is constantly surprised by the challenge of that relationship. And that bit of mystery makes all the difference!