Overcoming Rejection

"I have stood on a mountain of no's for one yes."

- B. Smith

Every year Monica and I attend "Southern Voices," a writer's conference in Hoover, AL, that features a number of well-known authors and a few who I haven't heard of. They discuss their creative processes, their approach to writing, the development of their characters, and the challenges inherent in their craft. While each one has a different take on these topics, the one huge obstacle they have all faced is rejection...and most of them have had loads of it. Still, they persevere.

Each year, I come away inspired. Hearing their stories of refusing to quit keeps me encouraged. One of my favorite cartoons shows a little boy who has a lemonade stand. The sign above the stand says, "Lemonade - $10,000 a glass" The caption reads, "I'm just looking for one good customer."

Ageism

If you're reading this it means you are aging successfully. Otherwise you would be dead.

Ageism, like racism and sexism is a social construct. That means we made it up...and it will change over time. At the heart of those and other "isms" is stereotyping, which is the assumption that all members of the group are the same. Ageism legitimizes and sustains inequalities between the young and those of us who were formerly young.

While the ageism door swings both ways, as in "he/she is too young for that," I'm going to focus on side of the portal where those of us who have accumulated significant life experience are standing. The truth is, regardless of your age, you are an "old person in training," which is a term coined by Ashton Applewhite in her excellent book, "This Chair Rocks - A Manifesto Against Ageism."

For almost 1900 years, being older bought you a certain level of status. Granted, that status was almost exclusively reserved for males. Still, "olders" were held in high esteem as teachers, cultural leaders, and those in charge of the oral history of their social group. They were living libraries and possessed valuable skills. In its early years the U.S. was founded and run by older men. Young folks had to climb the ladder of power and age into positions of authority. Back then, it wasn't a "glass ceiling" that limited your upward mobility, it was an "ass ceiling." You had to wait for some geezer to die or retire in order to get a promotion.

The Industrial Revolution and all the rapid social change that accompanied it turned aging from a natural process to a problem to be solved by science, social programs, and retirement villages. Post WWII prosperity and the accompanying "baby boom" brought forth rampant consumerism and a focus on youth culture. "Don't trust anyone over 30," a phrase from the mid '60's might have been the first shot in the war between generations. People began to fear aging. Younger people began to show disdain, even intense dislike, toward "olders."

For all that we gained in prosperity and the greater use of technology, there was a significant societal loss. We stopped looking at the value and meaning that is in every stage of our lives. Once again, we found the need to make another group "less than."

On Hindsight

"The real trick in life is to turn hindsight into foresight that reveals insight."

- Robin Sharma

The mistakes I've made in my life have been the most powerful teaching tools I've ever been given. They have stayed with me the longest and are the experiences that have yielded more progress than my successes, though I did enjoy the successes more.

Experiential learning tends to be painful for me and I'm particular about how much pain I'm willing to endure in the name of progress. Achieving balance was hard for me when I was learning to ride a bike. No matter how many different ways Dad tried to explain it, I couldn't make the connection and crashed repeatedly. It was painful enough that I would have given up, but I wanted to be part of my peer group, and they all could ride. At some point I grasped the concept of balance and it was smooth sailing going forward.

I've made a lot of mistakes from then to now, and a few were doozies. But I've learned from each one, repeated only a few, and emerged from each smarter and more resilient. I learn faster now, which is good, since statistical evidence declares there is more life behind than ahead of me.

I've walked through a lot of burial grounds and have yet to hear a voice from the tomb say, "Given another opportunity, I would live my life differently." Hindsight, foresight, and insight are only valuable for the living.

Today's image was created in Greyfriars Kirkyard in Edinburgh, Scotland.

All at Once

I heard this beautiful poem by Clint Smith this morning and it made me think of Spring as well as the complexities of the world we live in. In order to function at my best, I have to simultaneously be aware of all the negative possibilities and the glorious, wonderful things that are present in my space. They are happening all at the same time.

I know that focusing on the negative does not nourish my soul. There is so much going on that I cannot control or even influence. If I allow my energy to go in that direction, I will miss the juvenile blue heron wading at the edge of the lake behind our house. If I listen to the news or stay glued to the television, I will miss the beauty of a chirita blossom on a leaf after a rainstorm.

All at Once

"The redwoods are on fire in California.

A flood submerges a neighborhood that sat quiet on the coast for three centuries.

A child takes their first steps and tumbles into a father's arms.

Two people in New Orleans fall in love under an oak tree whose branches bend like sorrow.

A forest of seeds are planted in new soil.

A glacier melts into the ocean and the sea climbs closer to the land.

A man comes home from war and holds his son for the first time.

A man is killed by a drone that thinks his jug of water is a bomb. Your best friend relapses and isn't picking up the phone.

Your son's teacher calls to say he stood up for another boy in class.

A country below the equator ends a 20-year civil war.

A soldier across the Atlantic fires the shot that begins another.

The scientists find a vaccine that will save millions of people's lives.

Your mother's cancer has returned, and doctors say there is nothing else they can do.

There is a funeral procession in the morning and a wedding in the afternoon.

The river that gives us water to drink is the same one that might wash us away."

Our lives are happening all at once. Spring is happening all at once. Make the effort to enjoy them both while they are here.

Staying Vertical

"Life is like riding a bicycle. To keep your balance you must keep moving."

- Albert Einstein

My priorities change as I make more trips around the sun. Lately, the focus has been on staying vertical. While falling is love is quite enjoyable, I want nothing to do with other types of falling as the consequences of the earth's gravitational pull can be serious at my age.

To avoid looking like a septuagenarian toddler, I have several exercises that involve standing on one leg and bending forward. It looks simple, and for some it may be, but I find it highly frustrating at times as I wiggle and wobble. Still, there are days when I can focus and get it right, which brings on a minor celebration.

All this work helps me to keep moving forward and remain upright in the process. For those of you who are feeling frisky this morning, try standing on one leg with your eyes closed and let me know how long you remained in that position.

I discovered this early morning composition in Jasper, IN.

Choices

"Our anxiety does not come from thinking about the future, but from wanting to control it."

— Kahlil Gibran

I awoke yesterday to the news that the war in Ukraine shows no sign of ending and people in Mississippi were cleaning up after killer tornadoes. Kim Jong Un and Xi Jinping appear intent on gathering more influence and power. Unrest continues in the Middle East and there is enough political drama in our country to last several lifetimes. It would be very easy to get pulled into that vortex and have it suck all the joy out of my day...but I'm going to decline that invitation.

Instead, Monica and I are walking Paris on a favorite stretch of beach at sunrise. It's as close to a perfect temperature as I could ask for and we laugh as Paris goes blasting down the beach while keeping her distance from the waves. After our walk, we head to our favorite pet friendly breakfast place and get a table on the patio. Our waiter, a young man in his early 20's is a dog lover and is quick to make friends with Paris by bringing her a bowl of cold water.

Later on, after delivering our food, he tells us that one of his co-workers, who also loves dogs, is having a tough day. He asks, "Would it be OK if she came out and spent some time with Paris? I think it might help her." "Of course," we reply in stereo. A few minutes later, she appears next to our table teary eyed. Paris strains at her leash to get petted by the young lady. We exchange a bit of small talk while she interacts with Paris before she thanks us and returns to work. Monica and I are both taken with the young man's compassion and concern for his colleague. To be in the presence of that is a blessing I will carry with me for a long time.

A good friend of mine who had surgery recently shared that his recovery was ahead of schedule. That, too, is a blessing. Another blessing showed up later in the day, when I learned that, 800 miles away, many of the residents of the small town I grew up in gathered to show their love at a celebration of life service for a classmate who selflessly served her community.

Minute by minute, we each get to choose our response to the stimuli that come our way. It frequently takes more effort to find the blessings in our lives, but the payoff is worth it.

"Inspiration usually comes during work, rather than before it."

- Madeleine L'Engle

I'm pretty sure if I had waited for my muse to show up and guide me to a photo, I would still be waiting. She and I have a binding contract. I go out and start looking for images to create and she arrives at the moment I find something interesting and guides me from there.

The muse has incredible patience and has stayed with me all day a few times. Other times her stay was very brief as she doesn't put up with any whining. It's on those days I'm glad I have my own transportation because I'm pretty sure she would have driven off without me.

I discovered this wonderful weathered garage door in a close just off the Royal Mile in Edinburgh on the way back to our hotel. I was looking for something interesting and had already walked past this place. The muse told me to go back and wait for the sun to peek through the clouds. I can't remember the last time she was wrong.

My Body Is Just A Suitcase For My Soul

My Body's Just A Suitcase For My Soul

Today's title is from a Willie Nelson song and it perfectly sums up my philosophy of life. This 1949 model has a lot of miles on it and more than a few nicks on the corners. It's been roughed up by professionals and amateurs alike, dropped from high places, and left out in the rain on more than a few occasions. It's been kicked, bumped by cars, and even thrown into dark places. The exterior is lined and has a few gouges that my dermatologist said would add to its character. I can't tell you how many times the latches and straps have been replaced.

The interior is shiny from wear and the elastic in the pockets doesn't snap back like it used to. Look into the corners and you'll see the seams starting to separate and expose the supporting framework. There's a story attached to every stain that's inside, most from tears shed over losses, others from self-inflicted wounds.

My suitcase has a specific patina created by my experiences. I have grown comfortable with its appearance. Younger folks with roller bags and hard shell spinners breeze by and sometimes stare or smirk. I'm OK with that. Even if I could, I wouldn't upgrade to a newer model. I'm sticking with this suitcase until I get to unpack and fly.

Until then, the suitcase and I are off on another adventure.

Working For A Living - Bruce Cole

I met Bruce a few weeks ago and he graciously invited me to photograph the historic church where he is the pastor. Having done this several times, I’m always interested to find out whether I’ll be assigned a “minder” or if I’ll have roaming privileges. Not only did Bruce let me go wherever I wanted, he was kind enough to sit for an interview after the session.

What’s you job title? Pastor at Riverside Baptist Church in Jacksonville, FL

What do you like most about your job? It gives me the opportunity to meet and build relationships with people who are spiritually hungry, institutionally alienated, and to surprise them with the possibility that there is still authentic spiritual community available.

What’s the hardest part of your job that no one knows about? Attempting to nurture unity in a society that is so fractured.

If you weren’t doing this job, what kind of work would you be doing? Sitting somewhere, sad that I’m not doing this work.

If you could go back in time and talk to yourself at age 16, what would you say? What other people think of you is none of your business. Learn it now!

What’s the best advice you’ve ever been given? The way to get more courage is to go where more courage is required.

1, 2, 3

"One, remember to look up at the stars and not down at your feet. Two, never give up work. Work gives you meaning and purpose, and life is empty without it. Three, if you are lucky enough to find love, remember it is there and don't throw it away."

— Stephen Hawking

I have immense respect for Mr. Hawking, and I offer a mild disagreement with his first point. For me, it is necessary to do both. I've seen wonderful things looking down, and also avoided missteps by watching where to place my feet. I firmly believe in his second point. When I retired the first time, I slowed down, but continued work as a consultant. After a season of time doing that, I retired again and my work became photography and writing, which gives me a purpose. The key is to continue to redefine what work is for you. To have a loving partner brings a richness to life like nothing else. Tend it, cultivate it, and you will get to reap the joy of your labors every day.

There is hope for the world when a theoretical physicist and cosmologist can distill his wisdom into three doable steps for the rest of us.

Discovery

"One doesn't discover new lands without consenting to lose sight of the shore for a very long time." - Andre Gide

The crew of the shrimp boat on the horizon is just finishing their shift and hoping to get home before the approaching storm hits. Laboring in the elements at night on board a platform that pitches and rolls is challenging. Given the nature of the work, I'm surprised shrimp aren't more expensive.

Experience has taught me that any voyage of discovery requires us to leave comfortable surroundings and established patterns of behavior. It is often uncomfortable, the lessons come at a price, and success is rarely a straight line.

I do not know why I have been so in love with some of the routines in my life. Every time I have decided to make a well-considered change it has paid dividends far greater than any I would have received by maintaining the status quo.

Creative Destruction

Creative Destruction

We've been blessed with an abundance of magnolia blossoms this season. They are fragrant, fragile, and fleeting in their beauty. I was fortunate to find these after a rainstorm. The downpour was strong enough to knock the tepals off some flowers and dislodged the stamens on nearly all of them. Though the flowers are gorgeous when intact, the creative destruction from the storm adds another dimension of beauty.

The Ordinary

"We often take for granted the very things that most deserve our gratitude." - Cynthia Ozick

Inn her 1984 essay, "The Riddle of the Ordinary.," Cynthia Ozick pointed out the paradoxical way we experience extraordinary versus ordinary things: "The Extraordinary does not let you walk away and shrug your shoulders. But the Ordinary is a much harder case," she wrote. "In the first place, by making itself so noticeable — it is around us all the time — the Ordinary has got itself in bad fix with us: we hardly ever notice it."

It doesn't get more ordinary than a set of stairs at an apartment complex and some black metal handrails. Neither is very important...unless you live above the ground floor. This one caught my eye for the different tones and the interplay of light and shadow. Today is a good time to find something ordinary and be grateful for its presence in your life.

Snap, Crackle, and Pop

Snap, Crackle, and Pop

I'm not talking about the breakfast cereal, but rather the comforting sounds emanating from my Mom's console stereo with a built in record changer. My first album was "Meet the Beatles," which I was able to play at the proper volume when Mom & Dad were not home. Later on I would double the size of my record collection when I purchased "Big Sounds of the Drags," a 26 minute feast for the ears of those who loved drag racing. This album was also one not played while John and Helen were in the house.

Over the years my record collection would grow to nearly 300 albums. Whenever I moved, the stereo equipment would be the first thing into the new location because a move without music is dreary work. All that came to an end in late 2014 when we moved to Jacksonville. I purchased a Sonos system for our new home and when I discovered its versatility, quality, and ease of use, I knew the albums would never get back on the turntable, so I found a music lover who was over the moon to re-home them. He's still happy and I am, too.

The Matter of Focus

"What we find in life is based on where we put our attention. When we focus on the small worlds our thoughts create, we miss out on the beauty and possibilities we are meant to enjoy."

– Guy Finley

What are you focusing on right now that is keeping you from experiencing the things you should be enjoying?

Before the Storm

"If you are distressed by anything external, the pain is not due to the thing itself, but to your estimate of it; and this you have the power to revoke at any moment."

– Marcus Aurelius

I have a healthy respect for nature's power, but I do not fear it. That respect is why I don't run outside waving golf clubs over my head during any of our numerous electrical storms. I don't have a fear of heights, but my days of climbing a ladder on to the roof of the house are over due to my deeper understanding of gravity and the amount of time it takes bones to heal after age 70. I'm really not fearful of anything, though I get a bit twitchy in the presence of wasps, hornets, and bees. My immune system isn't what it used to be, and the last time I got stung my hand took on the appearance of a boxing glove in about 10 minutes.

Everyone has to figure out on their own what to be afraid of or if they are going to be afraid at all. My goal is for my faith to drive out my fear. I know I can be fearful and I can be faithful. I just can't be both at the same time. I'm deeply grateful for all life has taught me.

The Seasons of Life

"We are in the habit of imagining our lives to be linear, a long march from birth to death in which we mass our powers, only to surrender them again, all the while slowly losing our youthful beauty. This is a brutal untruth. Life meanders like a path through the woods. We have seasons when we flourish and seasons when the leaves fall from us, revealing our bare bones. Given time, they grow again."

- Katherine May

This morning I watched as the incoming tide inundated some rocks and meandered around others. Each wave different from the last in how it advanced and what it targeted. I have yet to solve the predictability puzzle associated with the incoming tide. I can't predict when the large waves will get to where I'm standing. Nor can I project with any accuracy what the water will look like as it flows over and around the rocks. That means I will create a number of similar images and see which, if any, hold promise when I start the editing process. Of the 15 I recorded of this scene, this was the only one that had all the elements I was looking for.

The ocean meanders around the coquina. I meander up and down the beach, moving toward and away from the water as I look for the right combination of light, movement, shapes, and patterns. I intend to make the most of this season of my life.

Coming and Going

"Coming back to where you started is not the same as never leaving."

Terry Pratchett

Not every day at the beach is a "day at the beach." This day was not easy. There were gusting winds and lots of foam. The tide was just starting to come in, so the interaction between waves and rocks was almost non-existent. To cap it off, what started as a promising sunrise with great colors quickly morphed into something less than wonderful.

I passed by this spot when I first arrived and, seeing nothing interesting, kept moving down the beach. In ten minutes of turning up nothing else, I headed back up the beach toward my car. By that time the tide had moved in a bit creating possibilities where there were none earlier and the sky had brightened enough to provide some detail on the stones.

Going away and coming back made all the difference. My perspective had changed. Leaving and coming home again expands your worldview, much more than staying put ever would.

Condemned

Condemned

"A great fire burns within me, but no one stops to warm themselves at it, and passersby only see a wisp of smoke."

- Vincent van Gogh

This image troubles me as much today as it did when I created it a few years back. Part of my discomfort is rooted in the fact I chose to be a photographic sniper; using a long lens to record someone without their knowledge. One of my personal standards is to always introduce myself and ask permission before pushing the shutter button. I did not do that, preferring to make the image from my car across the street and then drive off to lunch.

Asking permission in this case would have required me to wake the gentleman, and I have no idea how he would have responded. Making him aware of my presence would have completely changed the image. Perhaps, it could have made for a stronger composition, but I will never know because I elected to not engage him. I chose to avoid interacting out of my own fear and potential discomfort.

I live in a great community and am blessed with wonderful neighbors. Assisting them and loving them is quite easy. This man is my neighbor, too. A review of my faith reminds me that I am called to practice radical charity toward my neighbors and myself as well. I did not meet that standard in this encounter. I also know that nothing good will come from continuing to flog myself for failing to inquire how I might assist this man, so I am acknowledge my failing and await the next opportunity.

I think John Wesley got it right when he said,

“Do all the good you can,

By all the means you can,

In all the ways you can,

In all the places you can,

At all the times you can,

To all the people you can,

As long as ever you can.”

Today is a great opportunity for us to do good. Where we do it is of little importance.

More Evidence That God Has A Sense of Humor

For the past three years, on and off, I have been on a quest to find a perfect Bird of Paradise blossom. It has been a most frustrating and unfulfilling journey. I have found the plants but arrived at the wrong time and there were no blossoms. I have seen blossoming plants, but all the flowers had some pronounced flaw or they were covered with ants. I saw a few blossoms that had potential, but they were so buried in the plants broad leaves that I could not get a good angle to create the image I had in mind.

Searching became so exasperating that I stopped looking, thinking I might see a leprechaun riding a unicorn first. I turned my attention to images of other things. Monday evening, Monica and I were walking to a new restaurant in the courtyard of a local mall. Guess what was in a large pot near the entrance? One perfect blossom. At the mall. I hadn't thought of looking there. I'm pretty sure I heard God laughing.