“All we can really leave are memories, so it’s important that we create them.” 

– John C. Adams II

PopKnot

John Adams says he “has wood in my veins.”

He’s a great-grandson of lumber millers and forestry managers. And, grew up watching his grandfathers working in the saw mill, amongst the trees standing in the hills of the Ozarks.

“I learned a lot, but most importantly, a hard day’s work done right was priceless,” John says to me while sitting at our handmade black walnut, round table.

John watched the men in his memory-held, mountain community “fell” trees, hook them up to the horses with chains and pull them into the lumber yard to be milled. In those days, the saws were powered by belts and pulleys. And, he gets a far-off look in his eyes as he recalls how those huge saws churned up sawdust all around them as they seemingly worked endless days. I could see his nostrils flair as he vividly recalled the smell of that freshly cut wood drifted into his nose on a country breeze.

“My grandfathers were not just lumberjacks, but real hillbilly people. They didn’t have electricity and yet they were seemingly able to provide everything they needed on the farm; from tobacco to cain sorghum molasses. They had milk cows, chickens, hogs, and mules around their hilly homesteads and stored their harvests in root cellars and where they also cured hams to fend off winter’s hunger driving cold. It was a full-family working-way-of-life,” John fondly remembers.

His eyes watched the people in his life build items from wood to sell or use. It all clearly left a lasting impression on him. An imprint that lives in the past, present and future.

“I learned a lot from those people,” He teaches. “I honor them by building items in my shop. As a disabled veteran, it’s something vital I can still do. We have 16 grandchildren who are all watching and learning, just as I did.”

He knew they were watching because they began coming to him, asking how to do wood working projects. The grandchildren who were wood-handy began to work with him to create products to sell to their friends and family. Those that didn’t want woodwork created a business plan and website. That’s how Popknot Wood was born.

John loves binding the generations of his family together through wood-born creations and restorations. And, he’s moved when they’re able to preserve wood-held-memories for their clients as well. 

“People bring legacy tables, chairs and other cherished pieces to us and we restore them. That’s what we really love to do.”

He is also cognizant of another tangible memory not far from where we were talking.

“Our family donated a plot of land on Walnut Street for a church years ago. Each member of our family created a stained-glass window and installed in that church to stay tied to that family land,” a watery eyes John imparted before continuing. “All we can really leave are memories, so it’s important that we create them.”

I’ve helped thousands of people, as a real estate & lifestyle expert, to discover where and how they want to live and work, to achieve Realesation. That’s why I bring you American Dream TV, to stir your heart and mind:

https://drive.google.com/file/d/1O6csyUhByBzo_Z50rJcY9w0uAonVelgE/view?usp=sharing

 

“If you can’t explain it to a six-year-old, then you don’t understand it yourself.” – Albert Einstein

Six

 “I don’t think I was ever planning to have children,” Andrew said. “But now that I have one child I can’t ever imagine not having her.”

The term Felix culpa immediately came to mind as Andrew spoke about the good that has come into his life as a result the unexpected. Felix culpa is a Latin phrase that comes from the words felix, meaning ‘happy,’ ‘lucky,’ or ‘blessed,’ and culpa, meaning ‘fault’ or ‘fall.’  It’s a concept suggesting that something unexpected or unplanned can bring about greater good.

We all are the receivers of the unexpected and each instance offers an opportunity of using the “Principle of Six,” a concept initiated as a result of something Albert Einstein said long ago, “If you can’t explain it to a six-year-old, then you don’t understand it yourself.” So, next time you see a child, of about six years of age, let their likeness entice you toward exploration of the unexpected.

First. At the moment of your emotional reaction to the unexpected, ask yourself, “Where is this emotion coming from?” Dave Zitting is the designer of this all important first question. He explains the question’s power by teaching of the important connection that emotion plays in every aspect of living and its relationship to often-ignored situational understanding.

Second, A six-year-old is often frustrated at their lack of situational understanding. As a result, their knee-jerk emotional reaction governs their behavior. You and I have all seen emotional outbursts displayed by exasperated children. We’ve also seen that such reactions are always unproductive. Dave’s question, when asked internally, reveals another paths forward.

Third. Be comfortable with not understanding the moment. It is impossible to know everything that can come from an unexpected occurrence. One of my favorite allegories is about a farmer who always said, “we’ll see,” when his friends and neighbors tried to label every unexpected event, that came to him, as good or bad luck. Be like the farmer who is open to “we’ll see.”

Fourth, seek long term understanding. My friend Andrew is just like the rest of us. He had no notion of the gift his daughter would be before she arrived in his life. You and I have no idea what greater good will come from life’s unanticipated occurrences. And, just like Andrew, we’ll only discover them over time.

Fifth. Look for luck. After one of our common friends once described Kristin Murdock as the “luckiest person she’s ever met,” Kristin taught me that if I simply looked for luck, it will come to me. She’s right!

Sixth. Accept the luck and gifts received as a result of your providential falls and one day, when you and I finally understand the “Principle of six,” we’ll be able to explain it to a six-year-old.

I’ve helped thousands of people, as a real estate & lifestyle expert, to discover where and how they want to live and work, to achieve Realesation. That’s why I bring you American Dream TV, to stir your heart and mind:

https://drive.google.com/file/d/1O6csyUhByBzo_Z50rJcY9w0uAonVelgE/view?usp=sharing

Pivotal Moment

“I grew up in a small town. I went to school there. Then one day a new family moved into our neighborhood. They had a daughter about the same age as I was and they had a younger daughter as well,” Gan said, while speaking of an early pivotal moment as a teenager.

Everyone Gan knew up to this point had always lived in the same town and had gone to the same schools. Right up to his early years in high school.

“Our town had a particular culture. We viewed the world in the same way,” he continued.

They also viewed history through the same lens. It had never occurred to him that there may be a different point of view.

“We got to know our new neighbors fairly well. They were real nice people from a nearby state. I hadn’t considered the possibility of significant differences,” Gan explained, right before he described a perspicuous moment of ideation.

It was a shift earned through observation, a moment from the past he seemed to pull easily from his pocket, as if it were a favorite, comfortable wallet, filled with personal historical currency. His eyes drifted from the present, as if a vehicle of time travel, allowing him to relive what he thought was going to be a typical barbeque with neighbors they were still getting to know.

“The daughter, about my age and in high school, had gone to school in the state they recently left. The younger daughter had been in our local school for a couple of years,” Gan said as he aptly painted through voice.

He went on brushing in details of the scene that had occurred some forty years earlier. Saying that as the conversing group relaxed in his backyard, it soon became clear that the sisters had been taught wholly different perspectives of the area’s history.

“Theirs was such a stark, contrasting assessment of the same historical period, that I was want to simply sit and observe the unfolding moment. I wondered at the divide and how it had occurred within the same family,” Gan illustrated with auditory, pictorial strokes.

He stood in the present, while reposing on his childhood patio, with the scent of barbeque seemingly-still-vivid and wafting through his memory, as if present.

“The moment and its people changed me,” Gan said as he phased into the now. “I understood, for the first time, that others, even living underneath the same roof, could view current and historical events very differently. And, that an everyday experience, seemingly insignificant in its initiation, could become a pivotal, life changing moment.”

“I just sat back, observed and listened; saying wow!” – Gan Nunnally

I’ve helped thousands of people, as a real estate & lifestyle expert, to discover where and how they want to live and work, to achieve Realesation. That’s why I bring you American Dream TV, to stir your heart and mind:

https://drive.google.com/file/d/1O6csyUhByBzo_Z50rJcY9w0uAonVelgE/view?usp=sharing

“They asked me where I was and told me to get going, to come and join them.” - Griffin Rosenbaum

Fueling Connection

Griffin asked to meet at Beach BBQ for a dinner meeting. I know what you’re thinking, “What a life! Dinner on the beach!” But, this little joint isn’t anywhere near a beach. We met there anyway and told me of his recent journey.

 “They asked me where I was and told me to get going, to come and join them,” he said, while speaking of his current experience with “Fuel Accelerator.”

Fuel is a 12-week business accelerator, by Startup Junkie, that selects and matches seed & growth-stage technology companies with vital, community mentors. It is an in-person program focusing on operational value training for young companies and the people who create them. Griffin and his company were selected to participate. It is an authentic opportunity to learn about powerful connection. 

Such opportunity often challenges its recipients in unanticipated ways.

“Right after the opening reception I got a message that caused me to rush back home,” as Griffin explained that he arrived home to hard personal news.

“I have to tell you, I was really feeling down and started to feel sorry for myself,” he continued by saying that the call from collogues at Fuel turned his emotions around almost instantly and he spent the few-hours drive back to the group, thinking about its effect on him.

“I’ve been amazed at how generous these people have been to me. They’ve given me a growing understanding of the power of connection and how it is allowing me to become the best version of myself,” Griffin expressed, just before he was kind enough to share more of what he’s recently learned.

He found that as soon as he focused on gratitude, after that pivotal call, his emotions became centered again and he was able to focus on his bright future once more. Now he spends specific time, every morning and night, reflecting on what he’s grateful for. He’s also begun other quotidian practices as well.

His second diurnal exercise is patterned after that same seminal call. He takes the time to reach out to others, just to check in with them. Sometimes it’s through a voice call, other times he sends a text or a message through LinkedIn.

“I just call to make sure others know I’m thinking of them and to see if I can do something to help them. I love that it makes both of us feel connected and important to each other.”

Griffin is also spending more time outside. He makes sure to take time to do something simple, like take a walk, so he can feel more connected to his surroundings. He’s found that doing so recharges his personal reservoir which supports growth of additional connections.

“It’s about connection for me now,” Griffin said, before he fueled our connection, by giving me a hug.

Be sure to watch the latest episode of my show on American Dream TV:

https://drive.google.com/file/d/1O6csyUhByBzo_Z50rJcY9w0uAonVelgE/view?usp=sharing

"Everything important is uncertain." – Eliot Peper

Ice Cream Added

The sun was long up. The gym had been open for three hours already. People who are commonly working out at earlier times were long gone. In fact, there was no one there as I walked in. The machines were quiet, unused. It felt eerie and lonely; a feeling that was not to last.

One grandmother walked in. Soon followed by three friends, all dressed in colorful outfits, that would make a chameleon struggle to morph. This color was just part of the gym’s shifted vibe. Perhaps the most notable change was that quiet was immediately banished. 

Such sound was an assault to gym rules. Their chatter was just fine. The rule breaker was the music which was not imprisoned by earbuds. Yet, it was a delightful contrast to the earlier loneliness.  It soon became entertainment.

“My mother is still living alone in her own home,” one of the dancing, bending and talking women said.

And, her astonishing mother, ninety-three-years old, is still breaking rules. 

Not surprisingly, I laughingly thought, “her rule-breaking-daughter had grown from an acorn not far from the tree!”

“I went to visit my mother the other day to check on her,” She continued, after pausing between dance moves and puffing out the words.

As soon as this visiting, dutiful daughter joined her mother in the kitchen, she was delighted to see her mother drinking a healthy smoothie. It was something she had never witnesses before. This unexpected behavior caused the daughter to marvel, because of the ear-to-ear smile spanning her mom’s face; a seeming, invitation to taste.

“This is really good!”

It was so good; the daughter asked her mother what was in it. Mom then revealed her secret to a delicious smoothie.

“Ice cream added! It makes all the difference!”

The exercising ladies chortled about ice cream added. I have to admit that I chuckled quietly to myself, after all I didn’t want these grandmother-fellow-rule-breaking, gym-mates to know of my eavesdropping! I didn’t want the entertainment to end. I loved hearing about grandmother experimentation; that its independent of age and social standing.

It reminded me of what my friend, author and entrepreneur Eliot Peper said about taking risks:

"If you know something's going to work, it's not worth working on. It requires no courage. It requires no faith. It requires no skin in the game. Whether you're a spy or a teacher or a spouse or a painter or an abuela or an astronaut or a monk or a barista or a board-game designer, the bits that matter are the bits you make matter by putting yourself on the line for them. The unknown is the foundry where you forge your chips. Everything important is uncertain. Sitting with the discomfort of that uncertainty is the hard part, the wedge that can move the world."

And, sometimes ice cream needs to be added!

Watch my latest American Dream TV Segment

https://drive.google.com/file/d/1fQmn4Fhlr7ftMqEjb64VFw1eCCK-YAZx/view?usp=drive_link

“I thought I was invisible to everyone.” - Daniel Madewell

Mending Invisibility

Daniel reacted as I extended my hand and twisted around & behind some other friends in an effort to shake his hand. Our little group of friends was beginning to scatter to the wind, like evening stardust flittering through a door toward home. We had spent the evening together, sharing food and socializing. Now, it was time to end our camaraderie and retire for the night.

“Good to see you,” I said as I shook Daniel’s hand, which seemingly acted as a lever to spark his smile.

“I thought I was invisible to everyone,” my friend Daniel Madewell said, as his eyes ignited.

“I thought I was invisible,” I said to myself, while turning to leave. Mystification accompanied my leave, suddenly entering my consciousness, dominating all tracks of my thinking. And, I was instantly, contemporaneously walking in the main concourse of Grand Central Terminal, where I witnessed its myriad of destination-tracks merge into one single super-track; a spellbound train of thought, centered on individual invisibility.

Perhaps the reason Daniel’s statement captivated me so, was that we were both surrounded by a gaggle of friends in common moment. You and I have long known that a feeling of invisibility can happen to a person, even when surrounded by other people. But, the revelation that a person can be subjected to such feelings of loneliness, while socializing with and in the company of friends seems to be a defining antithesis. A contrast for which I, for one, am incapable of comprehending.

But every one of us can grasp the powerful significance of proffered invisible mending acts. Which revealed effect is a gratified smile as genuinely offered by its recipient, personified as Daniel. Such an offering is generally viewed as small and insignificant. Yet, its affect yields an effect of incomparable significance, which is only fully realized by its recipient and it can change lives instantly. This change can be produced visibly or even invisibly.

This past week was also Rich Reuling’s fiftieth wedding anniversary as well as his birthday. And, while it was not my birthday or anniversary, it was a very busy day. It was a day so busy that I almost didn’t assume a moment to telephone Rich, to offer him heartfelt birthday and anniversary well-wishes. Yet, Daniel’s smile was still etched in my heart, so I took a moment and called Rich.

This call was not a video call, yet I could hear and feel Rich’s beaming smile as he said, “Thanks so much for thinking of me!” Then he went on to excitedly tell me of his plans to take a special road trip during the coming week with his bride of five decades. I didn’t see him on the call, but I can promise you, even though we were more than eighteen-hundred-miles apart, Rich did not feel invisible!

How will you mend someone’s invisibility today?

Watch my latest American Dream TV Segment

https://drive.google.com/file/d/1fQmn4Fhlr7ftMqEjb64VFw1eCCK-YAZx/view?usp=drive_link

“Those guys showed me a path toward a much larger life and they walked that trail with me until I became more than I dreamed possible.” – Jeremiah Johnson

Jeremiah’s Path of Possibility

I’ll never forget the morning I met the large, well-built, at ease with himself, Jeremiah Johnson.  It was a cool, crisp, not too cold morning when we met at the glass doors of a small office building, at nearly the same time. I tugged on the door. It was locked.

“You must be Lynn,” Jeremiah said in an open, gregarious manner.

The friend who had invited us hadn’t arrived yet. So, we stood there talking, getting to know each other, as we waited for his arrival.

Our initial meeting went so well that, toward the end of our friend-led agenda, Jeremiah invited me to come with him for short drive, skirting the edge of the Ozark Plateau until we reached a beautiful, hardwood covered, lake side retreat about a half hour into the time-forgotten Ozark Mountains. Where his generationally stewarded homestead, with flourishing strawberries, apple trees and native blackberries thrive.

“I thought this was the whole world when I was a child,” he explained as we walked the ground where his grandparents had taught him about their centuries-perpetuated lifestyle. “Then I got a scholarship to a college of arts in Denver. That was a mind-boggling experience for me!”

It was unimaginable, because the sights, sounds and people were otherworldly for a young man from a very different place. And, while he succeeded in school, the tug of his home continued to grasp his heart until he graduated and came back home. But home wasn’t the same for him, because he had changed. He had acquired a taste for views of a broader world.

“I decided to move to the gulf shores on the beach in Texas,” he recounted. “It was a new, magical place and I loved it and its people; who wrapped me in their arms and made me one of them.”

That’s where a group of police officers befriended him, changing his view of what possible was.

“Those guys showed me a path toward a much larger life and they walked that trail with me until I became more than I dreamed possible,” Jeremiah explained. “I became a police officer, a part of a larger fraternity.”

Even though he is retired from law enforcement, he hasn’t withdrawn from public service nor his connection to his family’s stewarded farmstead. He came back to his beginning place, not long ago, to care for his aging parents, as well as to walk the path of unimaginable possibilities with special needs children as their teacher and mentor.

After all, Jeremiah has walked an inspiring path of unimagined possibilities with giving personal guides his entire life.

“I tell my students and family that we’re stewards of life. We walk together with others, who have experience on paths we haven’t yet discovered, right up to the time we become giving-trail-guides ourselves.”

Watch my latest American Dream TV Segment

https://drive.google.com/file/d/1fQmn4Fhlr7ftMqEjb64VFw1eCCK-YAZx/view?usp=drive_link

“If you don’t become the ocean you’ll be seasick every day.” – Leonard Cohen

Quieting Waves

He, Isaiah Cowherd, had been watching his friend from a distance for quite some time. He’d sensed a change in her, but couldn’t put his finger on what that change was. Then, one day he thought he saw her, one gas-pump aisle away.

He felt awkward for sure, so he found himself shifting his gaze. Soon, his fluctuating look became an almost constant stare. So, he reprimanded himself.

“I’m being creepy!” 

That’s when the woman he was staring at waved at him. She had recognized him and he felt relieved, as he walked over to say hello and apologize for staring.

“I wasn’t sure it was you,” he started.

He looked into her eyes earnestly as he spoke, so she’d know he was speaking from his heart. And, that’s when he recognized the difference in her! She had lost her smile.

“You’ve lost your smile,” he said. “Is everything alright?”

A wispy emotion flittered across her face as she replied.

“I’ll be okay,” she said unconvincingly, as if a shallow response would disguise the tsunami surely lurking below that artificially surfaced affirmation.

He knew there was something much bigger, too much to be held, in the small vessel to which she had assigned it. So, over the coming days and weeks he stood as if in a ship’s crow’s nest, on watch. 

A crow's nest is a structure in the upper part of the main mast of a ship, used as a lookout. Its position ensures the widest field of view, for lookouts, to spot approaching hazards. Using this metaphorical approach, Isaiah could continue to watch over his friend from a distance. Then, he watched, pondered and hoped to discover a way to help his friend find personal confidence and happiness again.

As he implemented this oceanic-based strategy, he remembered a particularly poignant line from Leonard Cohen’s poem, “Good Advice From Someone Like Me.” 

“If you don’t become the ocean you’ll be seasick every day.” 

This one line of inspiration, from Leonard Cohen’s artistic prose, allowed him to identify and chart a course he knew would lead him toward effectively helping his friend. 

Isaiah’s personal take on this mind-expanding stanza?

“If you expand and become a large enough container, the little ripples that are so easy to complain about, that affect you, won’t bother you anymore,”

From that point on, he worked to put himself in his friend’s shoes. He did the mental and emotional work to begin to see the world, as if through her eyes. To see his friend’s challenges and absorb them. Later, he would say that this practice turned out to be a “personal exercise of expansion,” increasing the size of his own ocean, until it was large enough to soften the waves decomposing the periphery of a good friend’s self-assurance. 

“Because,” he explained, “If I focus on my troubles alone, I’m living alone. But, if I’m helping with hers, we’re succeeding together.”

Watch my latest American Dream TV Segment

https://drive.google.com/file/d/1fQmn4Fhlr7ftMqEjb64VFw1eCCK-YAZx/view?usp=drive_link

"I'm a firm believer that you're the average of the five people you spend the most time with, so I surrounded myself with people who are goal-oriented, who are always doing more." – Archie Swensen

Average of The Five

My daughter Annie and her husband Hector were visiting us for the Christmas and New Year’s holiday. They had driven from their home in Columbus, Ohio. It’s a long drive and they were tired when they arrived.

“We saw a fox down the street,” They said excitedly. “It was just lying, relaxing, on the grass, on the front lawn in one of your neighbor’s yards.”

Now, I had never seen such a thing in my own neighborhood. So, I was skeptical to say the least. Okay, I was more than skeptical. I thought they were suffering from the results of a long trip.

“They’re just tired,” I thought to myself. “It’s more likely a dog they mistook for a fox. After all, our own Harry Pupper, the cute little devil, minus the tie, could be easily mistaken for a fox under the right circumstances.”

So, I brushed off their claim as “highly unlikely.”

Now, since the beginning of dead-on-winter, I’ve been proven to be foolish for such a ridiculous assumption. Because, the same Annie and Hector announced fox has indeed become a recognized citizen of our neighborhood. I see him participating in neighborhood life often.

I saw him lounging on a neighbor’s front grass just the other day. He was soaking in the sun, looking very comfortable indeed. A couple of days later I saw him watching a group of teenagers play basketball together. The fox enjoyed the game, while relaxing on the grass, courtside. I even saw him walking down the middle of the road, aside a neighbor’s slowly-paced car, communing together in a friendly, neighborly way.

That fox is our neighbor! He seems to have settled in and has been accepted as a resident of spectacle and beauty. And, like all neighbors, I’m sure he has his detractors. Never-the-less, he is comfortable in the neighborhood and seems to be living, well, a rather un-foxlike life.

I’ve been noodling this seemingly un-foxlike-neighbor for a while now and made, perhaps, an interesting observation, based on a comment from recent summiteer of Kilimanjaro in Tanzania, East Africa, after an eight-day climbing journey, Archie Swensen.

"I'm a firm believer that you're the average of the five people you spend the most time with, so I surrounded myself with people who are goal-oriented, who are always doing more."

Has neighborhood fox become the average of the five neighbors he spends his time with? A relaxed yard lounger. A lover of friendly basketball play. A chatter with neighbors on the street. I can’t wait to discover his other two favored pursuits.

Makes me wonder who I’m becoming as a result of my own surrounding five.

Sorry for doubting you Annie and Hector!

“We all endure hard things.” – Steve Nolte

Enduring Hard Things

“We all endure hard things,” Steve said as he looked earnestly across the table. “It means you’re heading toward something better.” 

Steve calls this process of enduring hard things, “Purposeful Sacrifice.”

“There is purpose in sacrifice,” Steve explains. “It is a refinement process.”

It’s likely that no one understanding the refining process better than Steve Nolte.

Steve is an imaginative knife maker who is driven by an incredible passion for self-expression through his work. His creations are often noted for their unique style, elegance, and technique. As a result, his pieces often sell for thousands of dollars. He has developed a beautiful style that blends steel, stone, bone and wood into one-of-a-kind creations. His use of vibrant colors and strong lines make his work stand out among other knife makers, due to his innovative handle designs. He spends hours and hours refining the steel that he’s molding to become a knife blade under his editing, skilled eye.

Yet, the interesting thing about Steve, as an artist, is that his experience in life has been the gateway to his impressive refinement skills. He applies those honed skills beyond his art of knife crafting, because he first developed such skills to build his own character.

“We endure hard things; accidents, illness, all kinds of suffering. The key to maintaining happiness through it all is to recognize hard things as a refinement process,” Steve clarifies.

When we adopt this point of view, when this happens, we have the internal strength, steel, to continue on. Once a person knows that all crushing suffering or darkness endured is part of a birthing process, they begin to understand refinement. It’s all part of a natural process of becoming better, something more than we otherwise would be.

Steve is an all or nothing guy, so his passion for knife making puts him in his shop anytime he can get there. And, after a year or so of working entirely on his own he met RW Wilson, an old-time, more experienced knife maker. Steve credits RW with really teaching him about the most powerful aspects of the refinement process, related to knife making. 

“RW has been my mentor and has helped me more than I can thank him for. I also have had opportunities to work with other knife makers that have had a great impact on me. Brad Vice from Alabama Damascus continues to give me pointers and furnishes me with steel.”

These craftsmen, and his own life experience, have taught Steve that irritation often precedes instruction. And, it was this recognition that resonated with Steve as he developed his master skills as a knife maker.

“It’s true for crafting steel and it is also true for crafting individual character.” Steve instils.

Enduring hard things will allow us to become something of beauty and strength if we’ll allow it to. It is one of the most powerful aspects of refining character.

“We all endure hard things,” Steve teaches, as a master craftsman of knives and life. “It means you’re heading toward something better.”

Watch the latest segment of my television show on American Dream TV.

https://drive.google.com/drive/folders/1pxSGTePKXi1QKkw1IRVrIcFJqKVpEfky?usp=drive_link

“Something prompted me to take the time to get to know this woman, a stranger.”

A Knife’s Edge

“We were volunteering in another country and were getting ready to come home,” Jason said. “It was our last day there and I was thinking of all the work we had accomplished over the last week. That was the moment a profound thought came to me.”

That was the moment of a life changing message, “There is a lot of work to do where we live!” That prompting changed Jason’s, and his family’s, life forever. And, it has transformed the lives of thousands more over the last three years.

“We came home. My wife and I sat down together. And, we looked at our grocery budget. It was $800 per month at the time.” He said. 

They decided to take a “knife” to their grocery budget right then, while sitting in their kitchen. They made changes as to what they were purchasing, so they could also feed people in need, where they lived. The Maxwell family decided to eat differently so they could donate their grocery savings to others in need. And, it also made a difference in what they were eating.

They made the choice to focus on eating fresh produce, nutritious food at home. And, it really made a dent in the cost of their food. They knew it would make a difference to the people in their community, if they donated the same, high quality, healthy food to those in need. It was a personal choice and they followed it up with more impactful action.

They invited others in their circle to so the same. Now there are several families partnering with them to make a difference. And, what a difference it is. They’re donating between 3,000 and 5,000 pounds of fresh produce to 1084 families, 3067 individuals, from their pantry truck every Thursday. 

“One Thursday I handed a food package to a woman, who stepped had up to me. Something prompted me to take the time to get to know this woman, a stranger.” Jason said as tears welled up in his eyes. So, he pulled the woman aside to hear her story.

She told him that she’d been awakened in the middle of the night, not many days prior, to find her boyfriend, of five-years, abusing her daughter. She gathered her children, at that very moment, and left in her car. They’re still living in that same car.

Jason filled her car with gas and food.

“She taught me about courage, strength and resolve,” Jason said. “Her actions showed me what it means to have bravery enough to give up everything in order to protect the most vulnerable. I understand the definition of resolve now, even if it means living life as if on the edge of a knife!”

Jason and his friends are a sheath on such a knife, a barrier between it and those who need help. They are the feet and hands of those amongst us who need sanctuary and food.

Watch me on American Dream TV

https://drive.google.com/file/d/1fQmn4Fhlr7ftMqEjb64VFw1eCCK-YAZx/view?usp=sharing

“When Helen fell and broke her pelvis she was healing for quite a long time. It gave me the chance to sit and talk, to listen to her for long periods of time.” – Jeff Fraas

Ancient Wisdom

There are not many of us who remember 1932 and can talk about it firsthand. That was the year Helen Demaree was born. Can you imagine the changes she’s seen during her lifetime? Luckily, her nephew Jeff Fraas, a writer, has been able to learn much of what Helen has to offer by spending time with her and “just listening.”

“When Helen fell and broke her pelvis she was healing for quite a long time. It gave me the chance to sit and talk, to listen to her for long periods of time,” Jeff told me a couple of days ago, as we were visiting together in Helen’s home.

Helen, Jeff and I were gathered in Helen’s home, going through every item therein with her. Some may have thought it was an extra difficult task, due to the time commitment. But, Jeff has a different perspective.

“Can you imagine living alone and not having anyone to talk with for more than a year?” He asked earnestly, while moving some boxes from Helen’s sewing room onto the kitchen counter, where Helen transformed each material item from just “stuff” into a treasured memory. And, Helen’s memory has not faltered.

Jeff and I didn’t want to say too much because of the enveloping, flooding memories, headed toward our ears.

“Each generation believes they’re at center of the universe,” Jeff quietly and enlighteningly said to me. “In some ways we’re having to start all over, because we don’t always take the time to learn the circular lessons of living.”

Then, Jeff morphed into a physicist. He explained the process of understanding time as more than a strictly linear notion. “You’ve heard the phrase, ‘time is cyclical?’” He asked. “History is filled with examples of civilization cycles,” Jeff continued. “Those cycles are exactly what I’m talking about.”

Then, we watched Helen cycle out of the now, as she picked up another item and began to tell us about it. She told us about the memory and how it was tied to the people in her life. Some of those people are still physically in her life and some are not. Yet, as she described the people and the moments they shared, they were seemingly in the room with us. We were privileged to join them in a renewed cycle. We were hearing about them firsthand.

There are not many of us who remember 1932 and can talk about it firsthand. But, Helen Demaree can and does. That was the year Helen Demaree was born. Can you imagine the changes she’s seen during her lifetime? Luckily, her nephew Jeff Fraas, a writer, has been able to learn much of what Helen has to offer by spending time with her and “just listening.”

What can you learn by just listening?

Watch the latest episode of my show on American Dream TV. Click the link below.

https://drive.google.com/file/d/1fQmn4Fhlr7ftMqEjb64VFw1eCCK-YAZx/view?usp=drive_link

“It takes half your life before you discover life is a do-it-yourself project.” – Napoleon Hill

Inside Listening

“Hi Lynn. This is Keith Clay. Kyle Christensen suggested I give you a call.”

The words were a little surprising to me as my friend Kyle passed away last year. Those same words also gave me a twinge; heart ache as a result of the loss of a dear friend. And, Keith’s introductory message alone was motivation enough for me to return his call quickly. So, I touched his number and waited for him to answer.

When Keith answered my return call we immediately began talking about what we had in common. You can imagine my surprise upon the discovery that Keith and I both had one unexpected commonality.

“My friend Kyle asked you to call me?” I sheepishly queried.

“Yes,” Keith responded quickly. “He said you’d take care of me when he was no longer able to.”

“I miss Kyle. He was one of my closest of friends,” I continued, right before I exposed the tap-root of unfinished personal business. “I had the feeling for a couple of weeks before he passed that I should call him and I didn’t. Now it’s too late.”

“I had the same feeling!” Keith confided right back, in an emotional staccato form, right before a sense of relief and calm filled the airwave between our two mobile telephones, which were a couple of thousands of miles apart. 

Neither of us had been listening well, on the inside. That shared, unexpected common ground linked us in ways I’m not able to explain.

I am also unable to explain why neither of us were adept at inside listening when, from a hindsight view, we could both tell you it would have provided absolution. Yet, with no forgiveness possible, all we could do is share and wrap each other in the cloak of empathy, understanding and resolution.

It’s not easy to be so resolute when coming face to face with one’s own selective deafness. It is especially so, when there is no corporeal justification. So, may you, as I have begun to do, implant the astute words of Napoleon Hill into your non-internal listening self as a remedy toward removing the earwax-like blockage that causes such internal hearing loss.

Said He, “It takes half your life before you discover life is a do-it-yourself project.”

When no one is there to forgive you, forgive yourself. Then, resolve to do better, surrounding yourself with others, who you admire and make you want to become a better person, just because you hunger to become as they are. Someone like my friend Kyle.

His body isn’t here with us anymore, but I hear him in my heart every day, encouraging me to strive to become a better person, to listen more, on the inside.

“I felt in my heart that I needed to do something in remembrance of my friend, my protector.” – Sammy Laney

Fostering Care

“When I was in the third grade I met Deborah. And from the moment of our meeting we became best friends,” Sammy explained, as we talked.

Deborah was adopted when in the 3rd grade, but Sammy didn’t know that and she didn’t care. Of course, when Deb came to school, no one knew else knew either. Nor did any of her fellow students know of Deb’s difficult and horrific journey, just to make it to 3rd grade. All Sammy knew was that she had a new best, forever, friend. Someone who would always be there for her. Someone who stood up for her. Someone who protected her. Sammy would later say that it was Deborah’s defining “championship” that created an instant and lasting bond between the two girls. And, even after Deborah’s tragic suicide that bond has endured.

“I felt in my heart that I needed to do something in remembrance of my friend, my protector,” Sammy said, as she talked about Deborah.

More than ten years later Sammy fondly remembers Deborah as a remarkable and beloved individual who fearlessly stood up against bullying, because she, Deborah, herself was bullied and tortured as a child. That’s why Sammy feels as if it is a great honor and privilege to serve the foster care community in Deborah's cherished memory. And, for Sammy, the Deb Project is always personal, focused on community-based individuals like foster mom, Aubrey Emerson.

For four years, Aubrey Emerson has spent most of her time surrounded by kids, specifically foster kids. Social workers file in, one after the other. And, sometimes it seems to her as if the kids are placed in her home with barely any notice.

“It gets hard to breathe. Some days it can be physically and emotionally draining,” Aubrey says. 

However, knowing she’s making a difference in a child's life makes her feel as if her efforts are worth it. 

“Government-based aid programs like ‘Women, Infants & Children’ (WIC) only help so much,” Aubrey explains. 

Although they provide baby food, they don’t provide for kids with special medical needs or diapers for foster kids and parents who need them. That’s why Aubrey is so grateful for the DEB Project.  

“It’s important, understanding that there’s a resource out there like the DEB Project,” Aubrey said. “They come alongside you to help; you’re not doing it alone.”

A few months ago, Sammy was there when a baby needing Enfamil came into Aubrey’s care, because it wasn’t covered under WIC. Aubrey didn’t know what to do. So, she turned to Sammy and the DEB Project. Sammy was not only able to provide baby food, but also gave her diapers in her time of need. 

“It’s basically just an open-door policy in our home right now,” Aubrey said, as she described the constant introduction of children to her care. And, Sammy is always there for us. 

Sammy truly fosters care. 

Are you fostering care?

“You can’t get too attached to one version of your identity. Progress requires unlearning." – James Clear

What You Don’t Do

There was a growth on Harry Pupper’s left eyelid. Truth be told, I didn’t notice it. That’s partly because he has a sort of “guyliner” highlight around his eyes. And, that little black line was hiding the small bump, the bump that wasn’t a big problem yet. But, it was growing and beginning to rub his eye and eyes are sort of important. So, we took Harry to see his veterinarian for an evaluation. The result of which was a scheduled surgery for my little buddy.

Harry had surgery Wednesday, last. It went well and he came out sporting a cone, wrapped around his neck, covering his entire head, while scrunching his ears.

“Why does he have the cone on?” I asked, thinking that cones are used exclusively to keep pups from licking their wounds.

“It is there to make sure he can’t use his legs and feet to rip the stitches out,” The experienced assistant explained.

Harry’s healing process and progress were clearly tied to such one-dimensional thinking. If he can’t reach the problem area, he will achieve his goal of keeping his stitches in place, so he can heal. 

James Clear’s singular healing advice, once offered to me, came to mind.

“You can’t get too attached to one version of your identity. Progress requires unlearning."

Unlearning can also be characterized as “What You Don’t Do” and three-dimensional thinking. Three-dimensional thinking introduces another dynamic into progressive decision making, called the multiplier effect, which is compelled forward by emotion.

After ten days of wearing a cone draped around his neck, Harry’s emotion was moping. He was sad to be sure. But, this morning, I was able to liberate him from that emotional drag. We got up, I removed the cone and he gave himself a thorough body shake, the kind that starts at the nose and quivers all the way through his stubby tail, and we went out for our always welcome morning walk together.

I watched him carefully as he sniffed and jogged. His happiness was palpable and was matched by my relief. Harry wasn’t tempted to sit down, reach up one of his rear legs and scratch his mostly healed eyelid. The one-dimensional path forward toward healing had succeeded. But, as for what he didn’t do now?

Once back in the house he crouched down and immediately began to lick his front paws again. It is a habit we’ve worked and worked to break. And, it’s a habit he remains emotionally committed to. Wearing the cone had no multiplier effect, no attached three-dimensional thinking for him. Perhaps that result is related to an inability to reason.

But, you possess the ability to reason. What you don’t do matters. It matters past today and has the ability to move you forward toward becoming the best version of yourself. And, happily you aren’t required to wear a cone to enjoy its multiplier effect, though it does require you to do something else. 

Make small daily choices that, over time, sculpt you into the person you desire.

“When I lost my husband I suddenly felt lost.” – Brenda Rouse

Restoring Balance

Brenda met me just outside her ticket office. I wasn’t expecting her to be watching, to be kind enough to come out to offer a greeting. Because she’s so welcoming it’s easy to become completely enthralled with this delightful person. And, I was about to learn that her personal story is just as captivating.

Brenda has been the Director of Excursions for the Arkansas & Missouri Railroad for just over thirty years. You’d never know it. Her energy and excitement are palpable, even after hosting more than fourteen thousand guests on her Holly Train with Santa since Thanksgiving. 

“When I lost my husband I suddenly felt lost,” she said before we sat on John Wayne’s former railcar and coasting comfortably in it, with Santa Clause, to complete our own Holly Train excursion.

“I thought I’d go back to my home state of Mississippi in an effort to become re-grounded,” she continued. “Then I got a call from the owner of the Arkansas & Missouri Railroad asking me if I’d be willing to come over to speak with her. I did. And now, it’s been just over thirty years. I’m still here and I still love it!”

The easy conclusion to reach from her description is that the job restored her balance. I’m sure it helped, but there is more to the story and Brenda’s noticeable charisma. After all, charisma is not so much an intrinsic personal gift, as it is a learnable skill having a lot to do with the ability to be fully engaged in each moment of your life. Taking a short excursion with Brenda is the express train to see how she restored her life-balance after being lost.

We’re all on the pajama train together. There is something about riding an historic railroad when everyone is dressed in their Christmas pajamas. It gives you the ability to see things from another person’s perspective, to understand how that person is feeling. And, Brenda is a master at showing: you can only be emphatic and place yourself in another person’s pajamas if you’re fully attentive to them.

Hear the “clickity clack” of the track. The ability to truly hear what someone is trying to communicate to you, both verbally and non-verbally is called listening attentively. Brenda carefully listens to the child within everyone, no matter their age.

The eyes have it. Eye contact is one of the most powerful forms of human connection. Brenda establishes such an impactful connection, allowing others to be heard and actually feel seen. Just ask the young conductor on her train and he’ll proudly tell you he’s been wearing his role and uniform as conductor over the last six years, since he was sixteen. He isn’t planning to ever leave.

Brenda isn’t planning to take an excursion elsewhere anytime soon either. And, anyone who rides her train is on the track of restoring their own balance. They receive Brenda’s three elements naturally, because they're given freely.

How’s your balance?