It's all About the Approach

Getting to know and welcoming everyone in our community

It’s all About the Approach

My stomach was moving up and down along with the small aircraft as the sound of the engines seemed to keep time in accompaniment.  I have to tell you, the view out of the portal window, across my shoulder, was causing me concern as I watched the waves of the Caribbean Sea crash into the rocks below.  One moment it appeared as if the plane would follow the waves right into the rocky cliff and the next it seemed as if we might just make it safely onto a runway starting and finishing with sea cliffs on each end.  I had my doubts right up until the two rear wheels of the small craft touched the dusty dirt of the runway.

As soon as I felt the wheels touch the dry, level ground, the churning of the sea and my stomach seemed to come to an end.  Relief rushed through my body as the plane rushed toward the end of the runway and I gratefully gazed out of the window at the palm trees waiving a warm welcome to the island’s terminal.

Terminal?  It was more of a shack with its hand painted sign, “Utila International Airport,” which brought a smile to my mouth.  As did the stop of the plane.  The door opened and all ten or twelve passengers, and chickens, soon felt the same breeze as the waiving palms.  I ducked my head, took my first step and began descending the stairs.

The terminal was just to my right, near the bottom of those stairs, and I looked a little more to the right and saw another plane.  Well, sort of an air plane.  It was a non-flyer, looking as if it had been sitting there for a long time.  It was missing parts and seemed to be under construction.

“Under construction,” I thought to myself.  “Now that’s a story I’d like to hear.

And, it was a story I did hear in many versions as I lived and studied in this tropical setting.  It was a place of learning and adventure for me as I slept just down the street from the “Bucket of Blood” bar, studied Mangrove Swamp ecology, and listened to the story of a pilot who attempted to land that infamous plane while he was intoxicated.

Almost everyone on the island came running to the airstrip to see what had happened on that exciting day.  When they arrived, they found disaster and laughter.  The plane had come to rest nose down and the pilot was rolling in the dirt, a great distance away, laughing.  He had jumped out just before the crash.  Luckily, he wasn’t hurt.

It made me think more about my own approach to this same island and how I arrived feeling different, afraid and apart from those living there.  As I listened to my friends tell me the story of the laughing pilot I looked up to see other people deplaning.

“They look kind of funny,” I said, “like they don’t belong here.”

My friends smiled, saying the new arrivals looked just like I did, when I came. And, then I remembered my own arrival again. 

My stomach was moving up and down along with the small aircraft as the sound of the engines seemed to keep time in accompaniment.  The view out of the portal window, across my shoulder, was causing me concern as I watched the waves of the Caribbean Sea crash into the rocks below.  One moment it appeared as if the plane would follow the waves right into the rocky cliff and the next it seemed as if we might just make it safely onto a runway starting and finishing with sea cliffs on each end.  I had my doubts right up until the two rear wheels of the small craft touched the dusty dirt of the runway and I was welcomed into a warm and loving community.

A Hidden Heroes Sky

My friends Brad & Robyn Bertoch and her brother’s friends

A Hidden Heroes Sky

It was a dark, crisp, autumn night and when our car rolled to a stop we got out.  I stood and stretched while extending my neck directly back.  Moving my neck felt great.  And, the view of the bright stars, thickly strewed across the night sky felt even better.  I took a deep breath and allowed the clean, refreshing air to fully expand my lungs.  I remember thinking, at the time, “it was worth the hour and a half drive up here just for this!”  That was the beginning of an evening that was also worth the drive for many, additional reasons.

We were there to spend time with dear friends, Brad and Robyn Bertoch.  You know how it is, as soon as we walked into their cozy, mountain home, saw the dancing fire waving its welcome, and greeted each other with a hug, we all knew that we don’t get together near enough.  Then, when we sat down to enjoy, perhaps and arguably, the best meal we’ve ever eaten, we were treated to the story of how hidden heroes had worked and combined their love to save the life of her brother.

I say hidden, but the truth is that they are regular, common people, just like you and me.  The kind we all know and see on a daily basis.  In this case they are a caring sister and her brother’s lifelong friends who collectively acted bravely and decisively to help one person they all love, Marshall.

Marshall has been battling health challenges for the past few years.  At first, there was hope that he would be able to get well enough to work again, and he was making good progress up until he took a sudden turn for the worse.  He is a fighter though, and was still living independently in a family home.  As time wore on, Brad and Robyn became worried about his ability to thrive and even stay alive, so they began to counsel with him to move into assisted living.  Unfortunately, they made no progress on their own.  So, they called in the troops!

Marshall and Robyn had grown up in a Holladay neighborhood with other friends who had stayed in touch from childhood.  As soon as Robyn called, they came back to the old neighborhood and sat down with Marshall.

“They made more progress with him in a few minutes than we had made for more than a year!  Then, they found him the right assisted living home and moved him in.  It was all complete within two or three days.  He is so lucky to have such amazing friends!”  Robyn said.

“And to have such a caring, insightful sister!”  I said, as we were near departure well into the night.

It was still a dark, crisp, autumn night when we walked out of their home.  And, now the night didn’t seem so dark!  Genuine love always chases darkness away.  Sadly, it was time for us to leave.  When at our car, I stood and stretched while extending my neck directly back.  Moving my neck felt great.  And, the view of the bright stars, thickly strewed across the night sky felt even better, and more like a picture of all the hidden heroes covering our world, chasing sadness and loneliness away from our lives.  I took a deep breath and allowed the clean, refreshing air to fully expand my lungs.  That’s when I remember thinking, it was worth the hour and a half drive up here just to have Robyn and Brad reveal that picture, the hidden heroes sky to me!

Harry Pupper's Rules

Dogs Don’t Read Clocks

Harry Pupper’s Rules

It was an early fall evening.  The sun was making its quick dive behind the Oquirrh Mountains.  I turned to walk down a hallway and noticed Harry Pupper, my faithful companion, shadowing my every move.  I smiled a little at the shadow observation because when I looked outside, the shadows were stretched long, just as they always are as the sun treks farther west.  Harry was also seemingly stretching his longing for an evening walk by wanting to go out early.

“Odd,” I said to myself, as I looked over at the clock to see the time blasting out as 6:30 p.m. in large red numerals and letters.  And, that’s when it hit me!

Dogs don’t read clocks!

Ah!  Daylight Savings Time ended just one week earlier, so Harry was exactly right.  He was the one gauging time correctly.  His internal clock was not being manipulated, no matter what the artificial, mechanical clock said.  Humans sometimes make up their own rules governing transitory, non-authentic living.

“Dogs don’t read clocks!” I said to the inside of my house and to anyone else who happened to be within earshot.

And, I thought you and I could benefit from “Harry Pupper’s Rules” of living authentically.

First, live with enthusiastic optimism.  When I open the closet door to get Harry’s leash out for our evening walk he barks for joy and does a little spin, dance-move to show his delight.

Second, focus on your loved ones.  When Harry’s internal clock tells him it’s our time to go out, he follows me around, ears perked, eyes bright and sees nothing and nobody else until we go outside together.

Third, snuggle up with the people closest to you.  At the end of our walks, Harry runs through the house to let everyone know he has come home.  Then he comes to where ever I’m sitting to let me rub his ears and rest his head on my leg.

Fourth, be quick to forgive and forget. On this night, I looked at the clock to see the big red numerals and letters blaring 6:30 p.m.  Then I said, “sorry little buddy, it’s not time yet.”  He looked sad for a moment and then waited patiently until I called. When I did call, an hour later, he harbored no trace of ill will!  He was genuinely enthusiastic and focused on what we were about to do together.

“Ah!” I said audibly, “These are beneficial, lifelong rules to live by.” 

Yes, daylight Savings Time ended just one week earlier, and Harry Pupper was exactly right, again.  He was the one gauging time and life correctly.  His internal clock and heart were not being manipulated, no matter what the artificial, mechanical clock and his imperfect human buddy said.  Humans sometimes make up their own rules to live by and such rules are transitory.

And, Harry Pupper’s Rules are never transitory.  They’re the authentic and inspire every one of us to live with our heart on the outside.