Maybe that’s why my life is still filled with magic. And if things like this can happen to a kid who grew up in the poverty of the Appalachians, they can happen to YOU!

1. Assisted a cardiologist in heart surgery.
2. Had a bush plane drop me deep in the Alaskan wilderness with only a tent and a raft with the grizzlies in Kodiak Island—for a week.
3. Hiked through a rainforest in the Blue Mountains of Australia.
4. Had a tribal meal on the floor of a yurt with a nomadic family in remote Kyrgyzstan.
5. Sang a solo in front of 30,000 people at the Hoosierdome before a presidential address. (No, it was not the Star Spangled Banner and it was the president of the Southern Baptist Convention.)
6. Had my tent torn to pieces by a grizzly while backpacking high in the Grand Tetons.
7. Attained pure summits of four fourteen thousand foot mountains (14ers) including the highest mountain in the contiguous United States.
8. Savored a bottle of 1975 Chateau d Yquem and a 1990 Quintarelli Amarone.
9. I have met the “holy trinity” of male rock vocalists, Don Henley, Michael McDonald and Peter Cetera.
10. Ran 23 marathons. (yes, 26.2 miles each)

Question: What is something YOU have done that normal people are not supposed to do?

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It seemed to swallow my reality and identity as I plunged deeper and deeper into her boggy moistness. And this was no bad thing.

As the shadows grew longer and the trail fainter, I realized there was no hope of finding my way out, having been hiking since sunrise. With no overnight gear, my pulse quickened and my adrenaline raced. As any well-worn and seasoned hiker knows, when in doubt, sit down. I deposited my weary body on the ground which was covered with furry verdant moss. It was very soft. I then took some time to calm my senses, but the tangled cypress branches began to darken and show themselves in a more mysterious light.

I recalled the words of Thoreau, the patron saint of the swamp, “Yes, though you may think me perverse, if it were proposed to me to dwell in the neighborhood of the most beautiful garden that ever human contrived, or else of a Dismal Swamp, I should certainly decide for the swamp.” Why? Because “I derive more of my subsistence from the swamps…and the swamps are the wildest and richest gardens that we have. Such a depth of verdure into which you sink.”

Those words seemed to calm me, and I wearily lay back in the mossy and peaty softness, the past months weighing heavy, pressing me prostrate. I felt the edges of my body gently sink a bit into the cool soft moistness of the bog, pliant and trembling, as if I were slipping into the very womb of the swamp. A sacred transcendence seemed to engulf me.

As I gazed upward, sparkling diamond constellations appeared through the tangled cypress limbs and webs of spanish moss, as the long day slowly faded from view. The swamp slowly came alive with the steady hum of gnats and mosquitos amidst a cacophony of frog ribbets, gator croaks above which was the plaintive hooting of a distant owl. As the sounds crowded in, my senses heightened and I closed my eyes hoping to take away the wildness. The noise of the swamp seemed to drown out the song of shame from the choir of my past. I began to internalize the sounds. As anyone who enjoys music knows, while touch, smell and taste penetrate the interior of one’s being, hearing is a more powerful experience. I recalled my daughter  covering her ears in scary movies to take her fear away.

Hearing is a deeply participatory experience. It engulfs. In what was now complete darkness, the swamp immersed me in a harmony of sounds. I should have been terrified and yet I was strangely at peace. The sounds were not that of dissonance but of euphony. I began to participate with the swamp. There was little sense of personal boundaries, and her communal nature overwhelmed me. She talked, I listened. But not in a linear fashion, it was more like a noisy din of  ”in-my-face” grace in three hundred and sixty degrees surround sound.

The smells made my head swirl. A decaying earthiness like the finest Cabernet, and floral scents of honeysuckle rivaling the finest Sauternes pervaded my being. I felt myself wafting deeper into an unfamiliar world with a numinous aroma that was intoxicating. Was I dying? Or was I just beginning to live?

The written morbidness of my Christian orthodoxy began to whisper from the past, “in the midst of life we are in death,” but the mysterium fascinans of the swamp began to respond “in the midst of death, Randy, you are in life.” As I continued to listen, it was like a slow sacred self-baptism, an exorcism of the demons of my past in this unlikely temple of the divine.

The bogs and quicksands of life had made me doubt a hard bottom, a foundation upon which to build my future. My dreams. Sinking deeper, I frantically hoped this swamp would indeed have a bottom. The pains and terrors overwhelming me, made me realize I had come, suddenly, face to face with some manifestation of the mysterium tremendum. In theological language, this fear, this mysterium tremendum, is due to the in-compatibility of man’s egotism and divine purity, between man’s self-aggravated separateness and the infinity of God.

Could this swamp be hell? Or could it be scaring the hell out of me?

I sensed a dreadful emptiness. Covered with clay and mud, I was cocooned by the swamp and no longer able to sense the rush of earthly power, the flush of religious success, or the crush of popularity.

Could it be a holy emptiness?

Or could it be what true freedom feels like?

Could it be the place where there is “nothing left to lose?” Where love has no strings attached?

I suddenly felt overwhelmed by a sense of complete trust, complete peace and complete joy.

There in the heart of the swamp, I stretched out my tired body and soul and let them rest. For how long, I do not know.

Far from being a hellish place of disease and malaise, I realized the swamp had instead offered me a glimpse of the numinous. A sacred place where I lost desire to ask questions about the past or to speculate about the future—replaced by a desire for oneness with the divine, without fear, without guilt or shame, without worries.

As I slowly opened my eyes and raised to peer upward over the now high edges of the walls of my “grave,” I glimpsed through the swirling mist, what I thought was the faint permanent rose hues of a new day.

Thoughts?

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Our search of the truth is the search for how we belong to the larger picture and why.

The truth of our existence is that it is inseparable from relationships.

The fulfilled life is one of companionship, affection and belonging. This is made possible by ever deeper and more meaningful personal experiences and relationships with others.

When near death, most people reminisce about the experiences of deep connections they had with others—family, friends and colleagues. It is these empathic moments in one’s life that are the most powerful memories and the experiences that comfort and give a sense of connection, participation, and meaning to one’s sojourn.

True companionship requires that one exercise vulnerability rather than invulnerability. If happiness is the ability to live out the full potential of one’s possibilites, and if the measure of one’s life is the intimacy, range, and diversity of one’s relationships, then the more vulnerable one is, the more open he or she will be to creating meaningful and intimate relationships with others.

Vulnerability in this sense does not mean being weak or a victim or prey, but, rather, being open to communication at the deepest level of human exchange.

Real courage is allowing oneself to be exposed—warts and all—to another person. It is the willingness to place the most intimate details of our lives in the hands of another.

To be vulnerable is to trust one’s fellow human beings.

Trust is the belief that others will treat you as an end, not as a means, that you will not be used or manipulated to serve the expedient motives of others but regarded as a valued human being.

When one is treated by others as an end, not as a means, one truly becomes free. Freedom is never a solitary affair. Freedom is a deeply communal experience.

Although there are ascetics and misanthropes that are able to live their life apart from others, their lives are less than complete. They have closed up the emotional channels that make human beings human.

Consider some of our culture’s popular mega-church leaders. I can discuss this, because (pardon the french,) I are one.  At least, I was one.

Invulnerability conjures up the idea of a super human being, unencumbered by the frailties and foibles that make us vulnerable, less than perfect, in need of each other and, therefore human.

Psychologists are quick to point out that a person feigning invulnerability (or for those of us who are mega-church leaders—forced to feign invulnerability by our peers and parishioners expectations) and exhibiting an extreme libertarian sense of personal entitlement, devoid of emotions, is often someone so frightened by his own sense of vulnerability that his macho personality becomes a mask for hiding his fear.

One can’t truly empathize with the vulnerability and struggle of another unless he is able to acknowledge the same vulnerabilities and struggles in himself.

As I struggle through my own personal crisis, literally surrounded by a community of christian leaders, this unexpected truth has been the most chilling. And the most lonely.

I have come to realize that the communites and individuals that ostracize their fellows who have made mistakes are just as alone as the person who has been ostracized or banished. They are just alone together.

Tomorrow I write a conclusion about being alone together and how we can eliminate loneliness—forever.

Question: Do you have someone that you can expose yourself to—warts and all?

If this article resonated with your experience, please click the buttons below and share it with your friends.

Note: This post is a close paraphrase of pages 156-161 from the powerful book I am currently reading, The Empathic Civilization by Jeremy Rifkin.

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As adults living in a sexualized Western civilization, we fantasize often, but how long has it been since you played?

Let’s take a look at benefits of adult play.

— Play is inherently open and accepting.  Although there are consequences that flow from one’s actions, all of the players feel free to express themselves, to be vulnerable, because forgiveness permeates play. “I was just pretending” is a standard retort that every child in history has understood and used when engaged in play.

— Play tends to be open-ended.  The world of play is often a timeless realm, as anyone who has ever been caught up in play and lost track of time knows. “Playgrounds” are often safe havens, independent of the “real world.” A “playground” is not something someone owns or possesses but, rather, a pretend setting that people temporarily share.

— Play is transcendent. Play takes place in a temporal and spatial dimension but is often experienced as timeless and spaceless. The experience itself is “pretense,” giving it a transcendent quality. It has both a worldly and an otherworldly feel to it.

— Play develops empathy. The play environment is the classroom by which we learn to be empathic with our fellow human beings. It is where we exercise our imagination by placing ourselves in other personas, roles, and contexts and try to feel, think and behave as we believe they would. When little girls and boys play house or pretend to be mommy, daddy, or older sibling, or their teacher at school or President of the United States, they are practicing empathic extension. It’s difficult to imagine how empathy could develop without play.

— Play develops abstract thought. When a child imagines what it might be like to be riding on a horse, he might take hold of a piece of wood, put it in between his legs, and yelp and gallop down the street. The wood becomes an imaginary symbol of the horse and a way for the child to create a simulation of the experience and ride it out.

— Play and freedom share common ground. True play is always entered into voluntarily. One can’t be forced to play. Human beings can never be really free until we are able to fully enter into play. French philosopher Jean-Paul Sartre syas, “As man apprehends himself as free and wishes to use his freedom…then his activity is to play.”

What makes play such a powerful socializing tool, then, is that it is the means by which imagination is unleashed. We become explorers of the vast other—all of the infinite possible realms of existence that could be. We become connected.

Frederich Schiller says, “Man plays only when he is in the fullest sense of the word a human being, and he is fully a human being only when he plays.”

Play, therefore,  is better than fantasy and far from a trivial pursuit. It is where we stretch our empathic consciousness and learn to become truly human.

Question: What was your favorite play as a child? 

If this playful post was fun, please take time to “play” a moment in Facebook, Twitter or Google + and  share it with your playmates by clicking one of the buttons below. Thanks.

This post is a close paraphrase of pages 92-96 from the powerful book I am currently reading, The Empathic Civilization by Jeremy Rifkin.

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Guilt and shame are often thought of interchangeably, when in fact they are quite different. Guilt can trigger the desire to reach out and make amends, while shame makes a person feel worthless and inhuman.

To be shamed is to be rejected. Shame is a way of isolating a person from the “collective we”. He or she becomes an outsider and a nonperson.

If one feels like a nonbeing, socially ostracized and without self-worth, he is unable to draw upon his empathic reserves to feel for another’s plight.

This leads to withdrawal and in effect death.

When one is made to feel guilty, it is one’s humanity that is being called upon to do the right thing.

But when one is made to feel shame, he feels isolated from humanity.

Guilt is an internal mechanism that reminds one of his deep social connection to others and the need to repair the social bond.

But shame tells one they are not living up to other’s expectations, and, therefore, not worthy of their consideration. Other’s expectations, rather than his humanity, become the focal point of the discipline.

One feels as if his very being is a disappointment and that he must conform to the “ideal image’ of what others expect from him or suffer the consequence of rejection.

Cultures of shame create very different people than cultures of guilt.

Ironically, while a shaming culture pretends to adhere to the highest standards of moral perfection, in reality it produces a culture of self-hate, envy, jealousy and hatred toward others.

When one lives in a shaming culture, one believes that you must conform to an ideal of perfection or purity or suffer the wrath of the community.

In the Muslim community, it is not uncommon to hear about a woman who has been gang-raped and who is then stoned to death by her own family and neighbors, because she has brought shame on herself and her family.

In the Christian culture, a person who has made a moral mistake, is often ostracized and and treated as a non-being. Rather than empathize with his suffering, the community inflicts even greater punishment by treating him as an object of  disgust to be blotted out.

The power of shaming cultures to squelch empathy and transform human beings into non-beings is chilling to behold.

However, an empathic culture has the ability to experience a person’s pain as if it were their own.

An empathic culture is able to  emotionally and cognitively take notice of the whole of another person’s existence and develop an empathic response to the totality of their experience and being.

Question: Do you think religion promotes a shaming culture or an empathic culture?

If this post caused you to think (not agree with it, but caused you to think) please consider sharing it by clicking one of the buttons below.

Note: These words are not my own. They are from the powerful book The Empathic Civilization by Jeremy Rifkin. The contextualization is mine.

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A New Day

27″ x 37″ Unframed Original Watercolor on Arches Handmade Paper

$850.

Special prices on prints also available:
8.5″ x 11″ $85. $35.
11″ x 14″ $95. $45.
plus S&H $4.95
(Other print sizes available on request)

Perfect for bedroom or bath.

Options

Original 27" x 37" $850.00 USD Print 8.5" x 11" $35.00 USD Print 11" x 14" $45.00 USD

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(pronounced fu—as in, well, you know)

Ingredients

4 ounces dry Thai Rice noodles
6 cups chicken stock
2 tablespoons fish sauce
4 cloves garlic, minced
2 teaspoons minced fresh ginger root
1 tablespoon minced lemon grass
5 green onions, chopped
2 breasts thinly sliced on bias cooked chicken
1 cup bean sprouts
1 cup chopped Napa cabbage
1 Handful of chopped Cilantro leaves
1 Lime wedge
1 sliced Jalapeno (ribs and seeds removed)

Directions

1. Bring a large saucepan of water to a boil over high heat. Add noodles and return water to boil. Boil until soft, about 8 minutes. Drain and reserve noodles.
2.Bring chicken stock, fish sauce, garlic, ginger, lemon grass, and green onions to a boil in a large pot. Reduce to a simmer; cook for 10 minutes. Stir in the chicken and napa cabbage. Cook pho until heated through, about 5 minutes.
3. Divide the cooked noodles between 2 large bowls. Place cilantro over noodles. Pour pho over noodles. Add Jalapenos if you want more spice. Place bean sprouts as desired in pho. Squeeze lime wedge juice into pho. Serve immediately.

This is my variation on Miss Ashley’s recipe.

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1. Super 8 — This movie was magical and grabbed me on many levels. An instant classic!

2. Midnight in Paris — Woody Allen’s finest movie and Owen Wilson’s finest performance. This movie is now in my top 5 all-time!! I was spellbound and it transcended time and space.

3. Moneyball — Riveting. An expose not only of baseball, but also religion, mega-churches and politics.

4. Being Elmo — A must for creatives.

5. What was your favorite movie of 2011?

Two movies of 2011 I can’t wait to see….

Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy

The Tree of Life

Worst movie of 2011 — The Skin I Live In — Disturbing and pointless.

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Because I know about them doesn’t make me smarter than you, but it does mean I have some really well-read friends who have introduced them to me.

I commend them to you.

In fact, I dare you to read them (really read them, not scan them) and remain the same.

1. The Complete Essays of Montaigne. With many thanks to Hugh Hewitt for challenging me to be a Montaigne to others.

2. The Cultural Creatives. While Richard Florida has garnered most of the attention, this relatively unknown book has far more content that will change any creatives life and legacy.  Forever.

3. Reality And The Vision. I doubt if you can even find a copy, but this edition edited by re:create 2012 guest speaker Philip Yancey has challenged me to read, not more, but better.

4. Beauty. This decidedly non-Christian book has shaken my beliefs and foundations to the core.

5. The Courage To Write. A book that has given me the courage to attempt to advance beyond the standard Christian drivel.

6. Diffusion of Innovations. The reason I live my life. Period.

7. Human Universals. While most communicators continue to answer questions no one is asking, this book truly reveals the universal questions. Why do we not know about it? More importantly, why do we not care?

8. For The Life Of The World. Some say this is written by the Anglican counterpart of C.S. Lewis, I say “the layers underneath” have changed my life. Forever.

9. Cognitive Surplus. One of the most important books of today.

10. The Empathic Civilization. This book helps me understand why I am so misunderstood. And if you have a creative bone in your body, it will help you too. It foretells my present and my future. And it starkly reminds me why I am utterly alone.

Question: Have you heard of—or read—ANY of these books?

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Father eternal, giver of light and grace,
I have sinned against you and against my neighbors,
in what I have thought, in what I have said and done,
through ignorance, through weakness, through my own deliberate fault.
I have wounded your love, and marred your image in me.
I am sorry and ashamed, and repent of all my sins.
For the sake of your son Jesus Christ, who died for me,
forgive me of all that is past, and lead me from darkness
to walk as a child of light. Amen.

I personalized this prayer from Common Worship: Services and Prayers for the Church of England

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