Finding Profitability

Our Imperfect Bodies

Finding Profitability

The room, in the Health & Physical Education and Recreation Complex, was filled with mostly weight lifting equipment and people.  In those, my university, days it was a place where I and many of my friends spent hours of time socializing and working out.  I didn’t give this regimen much thought until another friend of mine, one who I’d never seen in this building, poked his head into the room.

As soon as his head entered the space our eyes connected, due to our acquaintanceship, and I saw a quizzical and puzzled look cloud his face.  It was enough of a questioning look that it made me wonder.  So, I left my other friends and station to walk over to him and converse.

As soon as we exited the room he addressed his enquiring look, asking why we were in the room working out when everyone in the room already had a “perfect body.”  I can tell you that my body was far from perfect then.  But, these days, with a much older and what my Grandson, Landon Johnson, recently called a “squishy body,” perhaps it was far closer to perfection than I gave it credit for at the time!  And, at that time, I explained to my hallway friend, that everyone in the room had a perfect body because they were choosing to go through a great deal of pain and effort to make and keep it as perfect as possible.  Such was one lesson that each of us has learned, or will learn, over our lifetime.  We all become bigger, stronger, wiser and more courageous as a result of chosen and often unchosen painful experience.  It is the unchosen painful experience that has captured my thoughts and emotions of late.

This weightlifting room story came crashing back into the forefront of my mind this week as I stood in an office-building breezeway with a close friend.  The moment began with joy as I walked into the building.  As soon as I saw him, I immediately felt the pleasure of recognition.  You know what that feels like.  It’s a warmth that starts in the eyes, visually and then nerve endings radiate, centering in the chest, through the rest of one’s body with a sort of joyful, sensational tingling.  It confirms friendship as one of life’s greatest treasures!

My friend and I stood face to face so we could pause our day, just to spend a cherished moment together.  As he opened his mouth to speak, I noticed a small patch of blood dotting his trouser leg.  He explained to me that he had had a bloody nose.  One on this day and one the day before.  And, the reason we hadn’t seen each other for a couple of weeks, at least, was due to an illness.  He was on his way home to give himself much needed personal care. 

I was glad to be seeing him and was sad he was ill.  I know him pretty well and the attending look on his face, accompanied by a decided grief in his eyes, gave me a clear message that there was more he needed to tell me.  I let another moment pass.

During that moment I watched his right-hand lift slowly from his pant pocket.  It trembled as he presented it to me.  It wasn’t a tremor caused by fear.  My eyes were riveted, first to his shaking hand and then to his grieving eyes as he told me he had been diagnosed with Parkinson’s Disease!  I stood dumbfounded, deeply troubled, hurting and wondering!  This is the second friend within the last two months to give this same news. Then, I remembered that room.

The room, in the Health & Physical Education and Recreation Complex at the University of Utah, filled with mostly weight lifting equipment and people.  In those, my university, days it was a place where I and many of my friends spent hours of time socializing and working out.  I hadn’t given this memory much thought until another friend of mine, one who hadn’t seen for at least a couple of weeks, stopped to speak with me in the breezeway of an office-building.

As soon as our eyes connected, due to our acquaintanceship, and I saw a sad and troubled look cloud his face.  It was enough of an anxious look that it made me wonder.  So, I paused every other thing so we could talk.

As soon as he gave me the news about his illness, I could hear another voice inside my head asking why would this happen to such a wonderful and dear friend.  Why couldn’t he and the rest of us enjoy a “perfect body.”  And, then I thought of that time when I explained to my hallway friend that everyone in that room had an almost perfect body, because they had chosen to go through a great deal of pain and effort to make and keep it that way.  This is one lesson that each one of us has learned, or will learn over our lifetime. 

We all become bigger, stronger, wiser and more courageous as a result of chosen and unchosen painful experience.  It is a pathway to finding hidden personal growth.  And now, in comparison, recognizing that unchosen experience is by far life’s greatest challenge, I hope to help my friends, their families and myself find otherwise forfeited profitability associated with disease and pain. 

Easily done?

Not a chance!  But, I hope we can find profit together, by holding each other’s hand through it all.

Cooking up Care

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“When I was a nanny for a special needs child, it changed the way I viewed the world!” – Angela Suitor

Cooking up Care

“Thanks for your patience and help!”  The woman, a stranger, standing with me at the counter said.

I didn’t know her name at the time.  She just happened to be in the Le Creuset store when I arrived.  Since we shared an interest in high quality cookware, our ability to engage in conversation seemed to evolve naturally.  It’s something I’ve come to expect and enjoy during my regular visits to this culinary haven in Park City.  And on this occasion for good reason, because this interaction was about to become a unique learning opportunity.

I was talking with this new acquaintance, Krista Parkinson, about the wonderful features of Le Creuset’s newer line of hardened, nonstick cookware, just before she was ready to purchase a couple of enamel-coated-cast-iron pieces.  Krista’s only expressed complaint about her selected items was their heft.  Those of you who have used cast iron for cooking understand the advantage and also the disadvantage of its heavy weight.  Such weight can be a huge burden at times.  Especially for a chef of slight-build like Krista.  And, being a thoughtful person, she was also feeling some angst about taking so long to make her final decision, while talking with Angela Suitor, the staff Le Creuset specialist and me about some suggested alternatives.  That’s why she thanked us for our patience.

Then Krista continued, “I was once in a grocery store in Los Angeles (her home city) when a woman behind me, while checking out, responded to my heartfelt thanks for patience with, ‘I used to be an impatient person, right up to the time I became the mother of two special needs children. Having them in my life gave me new insight into the human experience!  My children taught me to focus on people, not all the trivia.’”

Angela then enhanced our conversation with, “When I was a nanny for a special needs child, it changed the way I viewed the world!”

As Angela spoke, I glanced between the two women, watching their eyes connect through understanding.  They knew a lot more about heft than a singular reference to cast iron.  They understood the weight of human burden and how to help lift it.  And, particularly about the burdens carried by others around us, without our knowing.  This shared understanding, confirmed through the light of eyes, created an instant, deeper bond between us.

“Thanks for your patience and help!”  The woman, Krista Parkinson, standing with Angela Suitor and me at the counter said.

I didn’t know her name at the time.  She just happened to be in the Le Creuset store when I arrived.  Now I knew that we shared an interest in high quality cookware and an understanding that everyone around us is, often times, experiencing extraordinary emotional weight and worry that is often unknown to us.  So, our ability to engage in conversation seemed to evolve naturally.  It’s something, that I didn’t expect when I arrived at this culinary haven in Park City. 

That’s because, on this occasion, our interaction wasn’t just about gourmet cookware, it was about sharing insight into the human experience!  A shared understanding, confirmed through the light of eyes, about being conscious of cooking up a renewed focus on lifting the burdens of everyone around us.

First Tracks

An anonymous snow angel

First Tracks

 Early, in the dark of the morning, I looked out of the window to see gently falling snow.  It had been snowing much of the night, so it had created quite a pile.

“I’d love to go out there and create a snow angel in the fresh snow!”  I said to myself as I hurried through my morning routine.

I was hurried because of my full calendar for the day.  There was little room to dawdle!

I knew that I’d have to leave earlier than I normally would on a clear road day, because of the icy road conditions created by the newly fallen snow.  So, I jumped into my car, giving myself an extra hour for travel and drove down my driveway, making first tracks in the snow, knowing that at the end of the day, well into darkness, I’d need to clear the snow after a long day of toil.

I spent the entire day and evening working and felt lucky that I had given myself the extra time in the morning.  The traffic was snarled the whole way into Salt Lake City as a result of the icy, slick roads.  And now, at the end of my business day, the roads were clear of both snow and traffic.  I snuggled into my car seat, touched the start button, and began my uneventful trek home.

Upon arrival at my driveway I expected to see my first tracks in the driven snow.  I wanted to try to follow them in, so as to make the removal of the snow easier, since there would be less packed ice to struggle with.  I looked through my windshield carefully to spot my early tracks and was astonished as the headlights of my car lit up a completely clear path!

“Wow!  I guess someone else wanted to create a snow angel today!” I said as I felt a deep gratitude for my unknown snow angel.

Early, in the dark of the morning, I looked gratefully out of the window to see gently falling snow.  It had been snowing much of the night, so it had created quite a pile.

“I’d love to go out there and create a snow angel in the fresh snow!”  I said to myself as I hurried through my morning routine.  Now it was just past evening and into the night.

“I wonder who my snow angel is?”  I thought to myself as I pulled into my garage after easily wending my way up the drive.  “I can still become a snow angel! I’ll go out and become one myself!”

Thank you for being my snow angel!  I hope you are reading this.  You’ve made first tracks into my heart.