Choices and Decisions

We'll all heard people try to justify actions by saying "I had to do it...I had no choice." I am here to tell you that phrases such as that are flat out wrong.

We always have choices. They may not be good choices; they may not be choices we like, but we always have choices.

Choices lead to decisions. Decisions lead to actions, or sometimes inactions.

Maybe I am channelling Yoda tonight, but a couple of things got me to thinking about choices and decisions.

The presidential election yesterday is a big factor in my thought process. Americans had the opportunity to choose the candidate they thought would best represent their beliefs and interests and that choice lead to the decision that this country made overall.

I remember the 2004 election, and hearing a song with an unforgettable lyric...unfortunately for me, I have no idea who the artist is or the name of the song (if anyone reading this knows, PLEASE contact me!).

The lyric is "When you choose the lesser of two evils, you always get something less and something evil."

Brilliant.

It also illustrates the idea that sometimes the choices are not ones we like, but the choices are there.

The other thing that has me thinking about choices and decisions came in the mail today. It was a bill. Now, yes, most of us have bills. This is a bill that I have known about for a long time, but today the bill had a condition to it...pay x amount of money, and by the way, the due date is in one week.

This seems simple, right? If x amount of money is not available for this bill by the due date, simply call up those kind folks and explain the situation, politely telling them when you will be able to send the money.

Like some Facebook relationships statuses, it's complicated.

The complicated details are not important for this discussion, but when receiving this bill today, I caved in on myself.

I'm going to switch gears for a it here to talk about a life changing event for me...The Hoffman Quadrinity Process. In technical terms, it is a 10 day transpersonal psychology based workshop. In simple terms, it is the hardest thing I have ever done.

I went to the Process a year ago in September along with 23 other people. During the Process, participants are guided through a series of exercises that help them explore patterns of behavior learned from parents or parental figures in our lives. Methods for identifying and breaking these patterns are taught as well. The experience is very emotionally charged, there is a lot of crying and intense bonds with fellow participants are formed.

When I returned from the Process, I felt so alive, so empowered! Living in the real world is quite different though and I soon fond myself falling back into my own patterns. The Process gave me a set of techniques to use when these old patterns emerge...but I chose not to use them.

By that time, I had been out of work for roughly three months, and while the work I did at the Process interrupted the depression I was dealing with, I quickly slipped back into old, bad habits.

Without too much analysis of the psychology behind this seemingly insane behavior pattern...I mean really, having tools and techniques to break free from patterns that hold us back in life and choosing not to use them? Hardly a sane thing. Point is, for whatever reason, I was getting some sort of benefit from choosing the depression and the lack of forward movement. Maybe it was the relative safety of staying small and unimportant. Maybe it was like Marianne Williamson says; what we are really afraid of is that we are amazing and powerful.

I continued to struggle with the depression and the anxiety...come to think of it, I am struggling with those things. No, I am not taking any meds for these things. Over the years, I have tried meds for anxiety, depression, bipolar, ADD...hell, I was even on anti-psychotics for a while, because I made the mistake of being honest with a psychiatrist when he asked me if I heard voices. While I was describing a spiritual experience, he wrote me a script to make the voices stop...of course, they didn't because anti psych drugs don't affect the spiritual realm.

The meds never really improved things for me and sometimes made things worse. So I stopped.

Lately, I feel like I have been waking up spiritually. My Navajo herbalist friend calls it remembering. I am remembering what my spiritual mission is in this lifetime. I am remembering what I am supposed to do. I am remembering what I have dine before, so that I can learn from it.

Yes, I'm looking forward to reconnecting with family and friends for the holidays. Yes, I am still dealing with feelings of loneliness and worried that I am not doing enough for the kids that I work with...but I feel like for the most part I am in a good space mentally and emotionally. Then I got the bill today, and I started to fall apart.

That inner voice that we all have started talking to me...at Hoffman, they call that voice "your dark side."

"You won't have that money by next week...what if you lose those specialized services? They're so important, but I guess you don't deserve them. You owe a lot of money for that besides what the bill said. How are you ever going to pay that? What about gifts? You have three birthdays and Christmas in December...are you going to get pathetic gifts? You're making more money than you ever have before, but you're still a loser when it comes to money! What a pitiful excuse for a human being you are!"

That my friends, is the voice of the dark side.

That is the voice that helped me feel worthless, disempowered, and pathetic this afternoon...but then something else happened.

I remembered that I always have a choice.

I can continue down the rabbit hole (as my beloved wife is so fond of saying) or, I can refuse to stay long in that old pattern, and choose something different. I realized it was time to make a decision.

I remember a quote that my counselor and later friend, Carol, had on her wall: "Change will only occur when the pain of change is less than the pain of remaining the same."

What if today is that day for me?

What if I can no longer abide by the old behavior patterns?

What if today is a good day to die? (Klingons, anyone?)

Today, I made a decision: I decided to choose a different way of living and to let go of the old patterns. I choose to move forward in love and light. I choose to live the way I envision my life to be instead of the way my dark side thinks my life should be. I choose to step into my power and my amazingness...we all have it you know!

Tomorrow I may choose something else, but this is the decision I made today.

Not many people know I'm a Reiki Master. The principles of Reiki give s beautiful example of choice in the present moment:

Just for today, I will not worry Just for today, I will not be angry Just for today, I will show gratitude Just for today, I will do my work honestly Just for today, I will treat every living being with kindness

I may fall back into old patterns in a day, week or month...but this is what I choose just for today.

Each day, we all have choices and decisions to make.

I've made mine...what's your decision?

Late Night Revelations

I hope you can stick with me on this one. I say that because I have so many thoughts going through my mind right now and they way they are coalescing and revealing their wisdom to me is completely clear to me, but I fear I will not accurately put everything into words that make sense for anyone else.

That being said, I'll have a go at it.

I have believed for a long time that spiritually speaking, we all have a piece of the puzzle. Based on the lessons we are meant to learn in this lifetime, our own experiences and the people who we encounter, we develop our own truth to speak. Sometimes the people we encounter hear our truth and make it part of their own. Sometimes we absorb their truth and many times some sort of equal exchange happens.

I just got off the phone with my wife. We've gotten in the habit of talking late at night, most often the timing dictated by when my stepdaughter goes to sleep. Tonight I had been reading, and dozed off before she called. I've been feeling quite exhausted lately...haven't been sleeping well.

When we were talking, my wife commented that I sounded tired and perhaps I should sleep. I agreed that I should, but I wasn't going to, meaning that I wanted to talk to her for a bit instead of cutting the conversation short.

I complained that I was feeling much older today than I should. I was particularly sore after my chiropractic appointment today, my knee that had been scoped years ago had been hurting lately, and as I told my friend who works for my chiropractor, I don't think I ever fully recovered from the cold I had several weeks ago, and I felt it creeping up on me again.

My wife is one of the wisest people I know. After listening to my litany of complaints, she said, "You need to do something for your body EVERY DAY. This is not a choice any more." She then suggested that instead of lamenting the fact that I have no method of watching my favorite yoga DVD's right now, that I do Sun Salutations every day.

We also talked about reasons I was guided to this place in this time. One of the many reasons is so I could have time and space to identify and break some of the negative patterns in my life. Again, I highly recommend the Hoffman Quadrinity Process.

We talked of other things until we were both close to falling asleep on the phone. We said our goodnights, and hung up. Somewhere in the recesses of my mind, things all started to make sense. A flood of seemingly unrelated quotes, parables, wisdom and some good old common sense washed over me. I knew I had to write this post now, or miss out on the momentum. So here is a whole bunch of thoughts, ideas a nuggets of yummy universal truth...some with proper credit, and some without...and let me say that most of these, I have been familiar with for a long time, but I have discovered new truth in the words:

Eckhart Tolle..."Is there something you need to do? Get up and do it now."

Problems cannot be solved at the same level of thinking at which they were created.

A student of Zen happened upon one of his teachers sitting between a pile of hot peppers and a pile of stems, the teacher's face bright red and he was crying. The student watched for a moment as the teacher bit into one of the peppers, continued crying and tossed the stem into the pile. Quite confused, the student said, "Master, what are you doing?" The teacher, through his tears replied, "I'm trying to find the sweet one."

"Try not, do or do not. There is no try." Yoda

"Don't try to be a great man..,just be a man, and let history make its own judgments." Zephrem Cochran

"If you're going to do something, do it well...and leave something witchy, so people know you were there." Charles Manson

"Find that thing in life that you don't do well, and then don't do that thing." The most interesting man in the world

"Always be yourself, express yourself, have faith in yourself. Do not go out and look for a successful personality and duplicate it." Bruce Lee

"If you always put limits on everything you do, physical or anything else, it will spread into your work and into your life. There are no limits. There are only plateaus, and you must not stay there. You must go beyond them." Bruce Lee

If you always do what you've always done, you'll always get what you always got

"Work very hard." Andres Segovia

"You can't build a reputation on what you're going to do." Henry Ford

Resistance is futile

"I am fearless in my heart They will always see that in my eyes I am The Passion; I am The Warfare I will never stop Always constant, accurate and intense" Steve Vai

Something we used to whisper to each other right before going on stage when I was in the Wartburg Ritterchor: don't suck.

Some of you will make some of the same connections that I did with all of these ideas. As I am fond of saying, common sense is anything but.

These are my late night revelations...

If yoga feeds my body's need to move and stretch, then do yoga.

If martial arts forms practice strengthens the body and clears the mind, then practice forms.

If practicing guitar scales improves dexterity and focus, practice scales.

If fast food pollutes body and mind, eat slow food.

If taking three joint lubrication pills works better than two, take three.

If playing malfouf (Arabic rhythm) brings joy and inspiration, play malfouf.

These things in theory are so simple, so plain to see. My friends, I am often slow to change. My wife would say this is due to my birth under the sign of Taurus.

One more quote, from Maya Angelou I believe: You did the best that you knew how to do, any when you knew better, you did better.

It's time I did better.

So I lied...one more quote, a paraphrase actually from Thoreau: I went to the woods because I wanted to live deep, to suck out all the marrow of life; to put to rout all that was not life, and not when I had come to die, realized that I had not lived.

I had those lines read at my mom's funeral. It was both an expression of great sorrow and my grieving, passive aggressive way of stating to the world how angry I was with my mom for dying the way she did. Long story short, she neglected her body, her mind and her spirit and at 58 years old, she left this life due to heart disease, uncontrolled diabetes and morbid obesity. She was trapped by the enormous pain body she carried around for most of her life. She distracted herself with food and books and solitaire. I wonder if when she came to die, if she realized she had not lived.

My judgement of my mother's situation may be harsh. Almost fourteen years she's been gone and the nature of her passing still feeds my own pain body.

What troubles me more is that I am following in her footsteps. At age 33, I was diagnosed with type 2 diabetes. I ate whatever I wants to, and I did not stay active...and I have been denying the diagnosis ever since. To be fair, I have been taking my treatment more seriously in the past few months, although living alone has not helped my food choices and my activity level has decreased.

But no more.

My thoughts tonight are quite simple: do the things that feed well your body and soul. Put to rout all that is not life, so when you come to die, you won't have to realize you have not lived.

Musings On A Cool Fall Day

Some days I wake up with so much pain in my heart that I think surely it will break. When I think of the words of Kahlil Gibran, "The deeper that sorrow carves into your being the more joy you can contain," I think that I am being prepared for oceans and oceans of joy. Other days, I wake up and realize what a wondrous place I am in! A place where my spirit is being guided to the right people and the right places for me to move forward boldly and with love on my journey.

Last night I was lamenting the fact that I feel lonely so often and sometimes wished I could be back home with everyone else. My beloved C quickly pointed out, "You were miserable here. It was time for you to go. You just need to learn the lessons you're supposed to learn there so we can move on with our lives."

She's right of course.

So many times in life, we waste time wishing for what could be, or what was instead of focusing on what is. This is how we miss the lessons we are meant to learn.

As the weather cools off, even here in New Mexico, I find myself thinking about Fall back home...my favorite season. Fresh apple cider, hayrides through the pumpkin patch...trick or treating. But I realize if I spend too much time thinking about what was and what could be, if I spend too much time thinking about the fact that this will be the first time I have not been there to take my kids trick or treating...if I do that, then I get stuck.

I get stuck living not fully here and not fully there, but in that place in my mind where so many of us live. I live in either the past or the future and I miss opportunities right here, right now.

You know, C said to me, "You sound much more grounded, much more centered, I hear more joy in your voice than I did for a long time when you were living here when you were so depressed after losing your job. You sound like the person I fell in love with."

I learned just before I went to the Hoffman Quadrinity Process that the hardest battle I would ever face in this lifetime is with my own mind. The mind is a wonderful tool as long as you use it and don't let it use you.

That's what I'm thinking about today.

How My New Favorite Phrase Could Change The World

Years ago (I realize now I sound JUST like my father when I start sentences with those words) I remember hearing a phrase that has once again become important in my life. The vague memories make me wonder if it was a less enlightened self that remembers the phrase, or if it comes from another lifetime. Whichever it is, that phrase is here and now in my life and I have realized that these four simple words could have HUGE effects on the entire world.

The phrase is "in a good way."

Simple, right?

The first time this phrase came back to me was at the Totah Festival in Farmington not long after I moved to New Mexico. I remember that Sunday well. I was disgusted with the fact the I am white. I was hearing the singing and the drumming from the pow wow while I was sitting in the local Unitarian Fellowship, and was thinking I should have been at the pow wow.

After church, I went to the pow wow and listened to the singing, watched the dancing and delighted in the various drum crews competing.

The emcee talked about the generosity of the indigenous people, about how it was part of their culture. A few times he talked about doing things in a good way. That phrase soaked into my consciousness and was filed away for later use.

A week or two later was the Navajo Nation Fair in Window Rock, Arizona.

At the pow wow there, the emcee talked about the man who invited the emcee to perform those duties at the fair. He said, "He offered me tobacco in a good way to be here tonight."

THAT is when things fell into place for me!

"In a good way" is not simply a turn of phrase...it is a philosophy, a spiritual practice and a way of life!

Tobacco is one of the sacred medicines in many indigenous cultures. To offer tobacco as a gift is to show respect to someone and honor them.

In the case of the emcee, I envision the process of offering tobacco in a good way to have gone like this: The person went to the emcee and said "I would like to offer you tobacco to come emcee the pow wow at the fair. I do this with an open heart, without expectation or coercion. I come before you as a sacred being who honors the sacredness in you and I humbly ask you to share your gifts with us."

Of course, the nature of this conversation is pure speculation on my part, but doesn't that make sense?

I see the in a good way philosophy as part of the ancient wisdom that all indigenous people hold. Be honest and truthful in your words and thoughts. Ask with an open heart and respect the free will of others. Take only what you need and preserve our precious resources for the seventh generation. Be pure in your thoughts and actions. Help those in need and be gracious when others offer to help you. Show kindness to yourself and others. When darkness enters your heart, do not let it linger. Honor yourself and others and live in joy.

This is whatin a good way means to me.

How different would the world be if more people chose to live in a good way?

No more manipulation, no more deceit, no more acts of violence. The lost souls could find their way again. All people would be paid fairly for their work and business dealings could be conducted with consideration and respect. Conflicts could be resolved peacefully. Those in need would get the help they require.

People would be measured by their character, not the color of their skin or their beliefs. There would be no need for random and senseless acts of violence because those souls that have given in to the darkness and the fear and the anger would have support and guidance before they give themselves over completely to the darkness.

When we choose to live in a good way, we see that the differences between us are the unification of humanity that we have been seeking for millennia, not the divisions that have kept us apart for so long.

We feel free to share our hearts openly with others so that we can all benefit from the experience and wisdom of those we encounter. Without fear, we share ourselves and silently state, "Yes, I have had trouble, I have had pain and I have been hurt, but now I offer myself to you openly so that we may learn from each other."

Living in a good way starts with small things: smiling at people on the street, holding a door, helping the person whose bag just spilled onto the floor, making friends with the dog that has been mistreated, waving at children on buses.

All we have to do is let go of some of the hardness our hearts have picked up along our journeys. Be open, be kind and help each other along the way.

How different would the world look if we all made small changes? How far could humanity go?

To me, that is the power of living and doing things in a good way.

In a good way

"The Times You're Not, But You Feel Alone": The Amazing Music of Billy McLaughlin

Note: I originally began writing this post four months ago. Due to an error with the Wordpress app, and the fact I had written most of the post in Wordpress and not saved elsewhere, a good share of what you are about to read was lost. When I write things like this, I am very grounded in the emotions of the moment. For me, this is not some mechanical process that can simply be recreated...it is fluid, organic and emotionally charged.

I was able to salvage some of the writing from a partial copy I had, but decided that I would have to wait for "the right time" to finish the post if I wanted to do justice to the original.

Just now, as I was going through my morning ritual in the bathroom, on this Sunday morning, it happened. Texting with my wife about our upcoming long Valentine's weekend together, and the song that inspired this blog post began playing on my iPod. Instantly tears formed in my eyes and soon they were streaming down my face, my breath coming in gentle gasps as I was consumed by the emotion, the love I had not known could be so deep, so powerful, before I met my wife.

With tears of love and devotion and longing still wet on my face, I knew at once that this was the time to finish telling this story.

I first saw Billy McLaughlin in the fall of 1992 in the Brenton Student Center on the Simpson College campus in Indianola, Iowa...and my life changed forever.

Billy was playing solo acoustic guitar for "Noon Tunes", a brief concert on a small stage in the middle of the student center. His two handed technique on the neck amazed me. I had been playing guitar for a year and a half, and I was inspired!

He did a concert at the theater on campus where he did a set of solo guitar, some instrumental and some with lyrics, and he did a set with a band. Part of the draw for me besides the music was the way Billy would talk about the inspiration for his music. That is a pretty regular thing for singer/songwriters to do, but I realized quickly what a skilled storyteller Billy is. He's really good at describing the inspiration for his music.

I bought the two albums he was selling at the time. His first, Inhale Pink is a solo album and Exhale Blue is a band album.

His signature piece, Helm's Place refers to the name of a street he lived on near the Santa Monica freeway, where he rented a room from a sweet grandmotherly woman. He admits that he should have titled the piece "A Day in the Life of the Santa Monica Freeway." It is a musical interpretation of the traffic waking up on the freeway and working into a frenzy and the natural ebb and flow of the freeway. Brilliant work.

Over the years, I have acquired more of Billy's albums. I talked with him when I could...hell, some of my friends and I even went bowling with Billy and the band after a show once.

Several years ago, Billy developed dystonia, a neurological condition that left him unable to play guitar right handed.

Billy then did the unimaginable, the unthinkable...he relearned how to play left handed.

I saw an interview where Billy and others were talking about the disease and his relearning process. One man said, "It's not simply a matter of turning the guitar the other way. Imagine every word you've ever learned to say in your life, and then learning to say them backwards...that's what it's like."

As amazing as this story is, it's not why I'm writing this post. Billy McLaughlin's music has meant so many things to me at different points in my life, and the story of the music is worth telling.

Over the years, I've studied to Billy's music, I've jammed to it, relaxed to it, made love to it, played it during quiet times when each of my children were newborns, I played Billy's music when my middle child was in the NICU, and I've lulled my children to sleep with his music. His Wintersongs and Traditionals album has been part of my winter since the album's release...every year. I received one of the greatest compliments a warrior musician can receive during one of Billy's shows. I took a girl I was dating to one of his shows at Simpson. I quickly got lost in the music and honestly forgot my date was there until she leaned over and said something in my ear. She said, "Most people just hear the music, but you become the music."

I was so touched by that observation.

If this were the end of the story, it would be enough. Thank you Mr. Billy McLaughlin for your wonderful contributions...

But this story is just getting started.

Several weeks ago, as I was driving alone through southern Colorado, into New Mexico to start the adventure I am now in the middle of, I felt the need to listen to some Billy. Several weeks ago, as I was driving alone through southern Colorado, into New Mexico to start the adventure I am now living, I felt the need to listen to some Billy. I pulled up The Bow and the Arrow, a band album released around the same time as his solo album The Archery of Guitar. It had been years since I listened to this album straight through, so the rediscovery process was an enjoyable, if minor, distraction from all the anxiety, thoughts and emotions I felt on that last leg of my trip, bound for an unfamiliar, solitary life.

As a musician, I am well aware of what Weston Noble describes as "the musical experience." It's that je ne sais quoi moment in music when you get chills, goosebumps... it's more addictive than any drug, and musicians condemn themselves to countless hours alone, perfecting their craft for just one more taste of it.

There is also another experience, and I don't have a name for it. I think most of us have experienced this at least a few times. It happens when a song writer crafts lyrics and music in such a way that they tap into universal life experience and create something that seems like it was written just for us.

"That is my song!"

For those of you nodding your heads, take it one step further.

Sometimes, just sometimes, there is a piece of music or a song that we find that alters our view of life. Once you hear this, you know in the depths of your soul that you life will never be the same again...it has changed forever.

One of those moments came for me on that night in mid August, on a lonely stretch of Colorado highway when I heard Billy's song He Said, She Said.

As a point of reference, here are the lyrics:

“My love,” he said, “You must be convinced, avail yourself to be shown. Though I must leave you here, gonna pick up all my pieces, my love for you, must now be known.

And it won’t wear out and it won’t wear down, and it won’t weigh heavy on your mind. And it will stay up, now it will stay sound to last you through all those times.”

"My love,” she said, “I can wait no longer, and you must hear, what I say.I need someone who’ll be there, ‘cause time is all we have to share. Your dreams will carry you along your way.And they won’t wear out, and they won’t wear down, and they won’t weigh heavy on your mind.And they will stay up, love they will stay sound to last you through all those times.”“My love,” he said, “This is not the way that I wanted it, but time in time, my hands feel tied.But I can’t blame you for needing what I can’t blame myself for not finding how to give, this love will be so hard to get pastBecause it won’t wear out and it won’t wear down and it won’t weigh heavy on your mind.Now it will stay up and it will stay sound, to last you through all those times.”“My love,” she said, “You know I truly love you, but I know not what, the future holds.So find your dreams, oh, make them all that they can be and then, you will find a hand to hold.And it won’t wear out, and it won’t wear down and it won’t weigh heavy on your mind.And it will stay up and it will stay sound to last you through all those times.”Oh, the times you’re not, but you feel aloneOh, the times you’re not, but you feel aloneThe times you’re not, but you feel aloneOh, the times you’re not, but you feel aloneThe times you’re not, but you feel aloneOh, the times you’re not, but you feel aloneThe times you’re not, but you feel aloneOh, the times you’re not, but you still feel aloneThe times you’re not, but you feel aloneOh, the times you’re not, but you feel aloneThe times you’re not, but you feel aloneOh, the times you’re not, but you feel alone

When Karma Calls, You'd Damn Well Better Answer!

Let me be absolutely clear about something: I believe we all live multiple lifetimes. I believe that we are born into this lifetime with the condition of death and the promise of rebirth. I believe we are born into lifetime after lifetime to bring our gifts to the world and to learn the lessons we need to learn. Face it...there is a LOT to learn, so how can we expect to learn them all in one lifetime? These lessons are sort of a pass/fail deal. If you don't fully learn the lessons you are supposed to, then you will receive many more opportunities to learn the lessons, and it may take several lifetimes. That is how I, at least partially, define karma. What goes around, comes around.

I realize that not everyone believes the things I've just described, and that's okay with me. I embrace all life affirming forms of belief and unbelief. For the purposes of this blog post, it's important for you to understand where I am coming from.

Any of you that have children in your lives or have observed children know that when they want attention, they can be very insistent...especially if they think they are being ignored. Imagine: a Dad is out with his children when they run into one of Dad's friends. Dad and the friend start talking when all of a sudden, one of the children has something very important to say, so the child tries to get Dad's attention: "Dad...um, Dad...excuse me please Dad..." Then the incessant tugging on the hand, or shirt, or tapping of the arm begins as well as a more exasperated tone of voice. You may also notice elongated consonants and vowels here: "Daad...Daaduh...Daddy...Daaddyyy."

If Dad continues to talk to the friend, the child, refusing to be ignored, will go to great lengths to get Dad's attention. This may include yelling, hitting or even screaming.

By the time things escalate to this level, Dad will most likely, bursting with frustration, snap back at the child, yelling "WHAT?!"

Now at least two people are agitated for no good reason. This could all of been avoided...by paying attention and not ignoring the child who quite clearly needs to be acknowledged.

Guess what? Karma is the same way.

Karma is that child who will not be ignored. Oh, you can ignore karma for a while, but you will give karma its due in time. There is no way around it. Fortunately you have the choice of whether things go the easy way or the hard way.

Karma is the spiritual student loan company...you can ignore it for a while, move, run, hide, but sooner or later you will be found.

That's why this post is entitled "When Karma Calls, You'd Damn Well Better Answer." Just like that child wanting your attention, the longer you put things off, the higher the cost.

Most of us know the cliché "When it rains, it pours." Murphy's Law states "Anything that can go wrong, will go wrong, and at the worst possible moment." I am reminded of sayings like is when karma seems to catch up with me. I've also learned to keep things like, "it can't get much worse" and "I can only go up from here!" out of my thoughts and words as much as possible. I'm sure I'm not the only one who's learned that every once in a while when you think things can't get much worse, just to humble you, they do get worse...a LOT worse.

I've come to think of times like this as "karmic avalanches." If you are paying attention, sometimes you can sense when it's going to start, and if you're lucky, you can ride the wave and not get completely tossed by it.

When these things happen in my own life, my wife, C, reminds me that I have some karmic debt to deal with. In fact, she believes, as do I, that part of my being drawn to New Mexico is to deal with some of my karmic debt. That thought was concerned by a Navajo herbalist I befriended. I was joking with her that I was thinking about getting a DNA test to determine if I have Native blood...I figure I must since I am so strongly drawn to Native healing and spiritual practices. She said, "Or maybe you were in another life. You probably have some karma to work out."

Karma is like a living hell. I don't buy into the concept of hell as described in the Christian bible...a place where sinners are sent after death to be punished for eternity. I resonate more with the way it is described in The Tenth Insight by James Redfield. He describes part of the Afterlife as a place where souls who completely miss the mark in life (side note: Eckhart Tolle mentions in The Power of Now that the original definition of "to sin" means "to miss the mark.") become trapped by their own grief and pain and repeat the same mistakes over and over again in the hell they create until they can remember enough of the life purpose they ignored to break free.

Karma can be like that in this life. If we ignore the lessons that are presented to us, they will be presented to us again and again until we remember. This concept of remembering is something I have read about over the years and something and something I discussed with my Navajo herbalist friend. She told me that is wasn't until recently that she remembered she is supposed to be an herbalist. Her father was a medicine man and she learned about the healing uses of traditional Navajo herbs her whole life, but she said it wasn't until recently that she remembered that she was meant to help the people through herbs. When I say "remembering", I am not talking about things like losing your car keys and then remembering where you left them. I am referring to remembering what our spiritual goals are in this lifetime; our life's purpose this time around. The transition from one life to the next is hard on a soul...so hard in fact that the things we accomplished spiritually in our previous life only show up in this lifetime as vague impressions, or interests that we develop. Part of our mission in every lifetime is to remember what it is we want to accomplish.

Karma has a role in this process. Karma is the ancient power of "what goes around, comes around." If we put bad energy into the Universe, bad energy will visit us. Of course when we put good energy into the Universe, we are blessed beyond belief. So how does this help us remember? Every day we are presented with situations in which we have choices. If we respond to a situation in a good way, then more good things happen. If we learn what we are supposed to from the situation, we can move on to something else. If we respond in a not so good way, we will end up being presented that lesson again so we have another opportunity to learn. The more we learn the lessons we are meant to, the more we remember. The more we remember, the closer we get to our spiritual goals in this lifetime.

What about the "when bad things happen to good people" idea?

We all know some really terrible things that have happened to good people. Have faith that there are lessons there too. Sometimes it doesn't seem fair or it doesn't seem right, but there is a purpose in it. If we pay attention, we might just figure it out one day.

When karma catches up to us, we would be wise to attend to it.

Twenty days after I got married the first time, my Mom died unexpectedly. The autopsy named cause of death heart disease secondary to obesity.

After years of reflection, I believe my Mom ignored karma one too many times.

I don't know at what point my Mom started gaining weight. I can only guess she turned to emotional eating because of her abusive father. I don't really know many of the details of their relationship, and whether or not that was the cause of her emotional eating, I am only speculating.

What I do know is what I observed during my lifetime. When I was quite young, Mom was diagnosed as borderline diabetic. The only thing I remember from that time is Mom stopped making cookies and cakes and started drinking Tab. Eventually she was placed on insulin injections. Years later, things shifted. She stopped taking insulin, and she never lost weight. Sometimes she would eat ice cream for breakfast. As she later reflected, one day she wore a pair of shoes that led to a diabetic ulcer. She ignored that ulcer until it developed gangrene and she had to have her big toe amputated. At 58 years old, she died in her sleep.

When one ignores karmic lessons, there are consequences.

This presented me with lessons in my own life. At age 33, I was diagnosed with Type 2 diabetes. Even though I was aware of my family history, I chose to eat whatever I want and not exercise enough. Now I am faced with my own lessons...do I take the steps to reverse the disease and live as long and as healthy of a life as I can? Or do I ignore karma's call and die too young, full of disease?

Pay attention my friends. These lessons are presented to us gently unless we repeatedly ignore them. When karma calls and we don't answer, it will leave a message. Rest assured, it will call back. Unlike telemarketers, there are no laws governing when or how many times a day karma can call. It really is a gift to help us move forward if we graciously accept it. But know this: karma always calls collect, and sooner or later, you have to accept the charges.

Sometimes It's Okay To Fall Apart

Do you ever have one of those days where you feel sick enough to be lethargic and feel yucky, but not really sick enough to stay in bed all day? Just enough parts of your body are scratchy, irritated and sore that you want to curl up with your blankie and have someone sing you to sleep while tenderly rubbing your back? Days where you feel whiney, but you don't care how undignified it is and one little thing makes you start crying and you just can't seem to stop? That's my day today.

All of this melodrama I've just described has helped me realize one thing: I have had it!

I think getting sick just pushed me over the edge of tolerance I have been teetering on since I moved to New Mexico. The energy I am putting out is drawing some strange things to me. Today I noticed for the first time there are some really bad drivers in New Mexico. Of course there are bad drivers everywhere, but today a lot of the ones here seemed to cross my path. Means I need to examine what kind of vibe I am putting out there. The phrase "I'd better check myself, before I wreck myself" comes to mind.

Granted, there's a lot on my mind...new culture, first time really living in my own, newlywed and 1200 miles away from my wife and my kids...as a matter of fact, that's what set of an evening worth of sobbing.

I went to the store after work to get some chicken noodle soup and saltine crackers...comfort food of the slightly sick for generations. The only reusable bag I had in the car was one I discovered when I unpacked a few weeks ago. It was a bag that my son had carried some toys in, maybe going to the Unitarian Universalist Society back home, I don't remember. I was a bit sad when I first found them, realizing I had packed the car right over the bag of toys, but today something different struck me. As I pulled the toys out of the bag, I found a partially consumed bottle of Sprite...and I lost it. For whatever reason, seeing that mostly full bottle of soda instantly drove home all the sadness, all the guilt and all the grief I have been consumed with since the night I said goodbye to my children.

Going through the Hoffman Quadrinity Process was the hardest thing I have ever done in my life, then saying goodbye to my children that night was the most painful. We clung to each other, crying. I don't know if they understood my reasons for going. I tried to make it a teachable moment for them. I explained that there were some kids in New Mexico that don't see the same way a lot of people do, and they need a special kind of teacher who can help them learn...that's why Daddy was moving far away...to help those kids.

Maybe when they are older, I can explain the other reasons I had to go. Maybe I can tell them that after being it of work for over a year, I needed a job. I needed to feel like I could make a difference in people's lives. I've long taught the message of service to my children, but it had been a while since I felt like I was truly of service. That, and I needed to get myself right...emotionally, financially and spiritually. This is a vision quest for me. I am trying to find how I fit into this world, as a dad, husband, step dad, teacher, healer, music therapist, maybe even as a shaman. How do I best serve this world? I co-created a job in one of the most spiritually rich parts of this country to figure it all out.

Now all of this might be enough to make most of us want to fall apart from time to time...but there's more.

I just found out last week that I got an extension to finish my masters degree...good news, but a lot of work to do. One of my dear friends has been dealing with significant life issues of her own which I would fully support her with, but for the last few months we'll talk or text briefly, then she will say she will call me the next day, and doesn't. Have to admit I wouldn't mind some support from her either.

Another dear friend is dealing with the terminal diagnosis of the man she's been with for years. I feel helpless to do anything, and her pain resonates strongly with me.

A financial situation that will be resolved in the next few weeks may make it very difficult...to do a lot of things.

There is the visit of my wife and stepdaughter at the end of this week that I eagerly anticipate. I hope they're practiced up on their hugs.

With this deluge of emotions, it may be difficult for some of you to see strength in me at all. It's no secret that I am a sensitive guy. Sometimes I have a tough time keeping everything together. I think most of us do, but I think that sometimes it's okay to fall apart. The key is to not stay apart.

One of the many ways music touches us is through lyrics. Every nice in a while, if we are lucky, we find some lyrics that let us know that someone else up there understands what we're going through.

One of my favorite songs for picking myself up after falling apart is "Bounce" by Bon Jovi:

I've been knocked down so many times Counted out, 6, 7, 8, 9 Written off like some bad deal If you're breathin', you know how it feels...

Listen to the song while following the lyrics...it will help you feel like you can keep going after a meltdown.

As for me, my ears and nose are plugged, my throat is scratchy, my glands are swollen and I have a headache.

I'm going to whine until I get my blankie and a backrub.

The Stories We Tell and The Stories We Don't

Since my post "Everyone Has A Story" the concept of life stories has been at the forefront of my thoughts. I've been thinking about this part (the part I'm living through right now) of my story because, honestly, I have a lot of time to think right now. Before I go into my story in the present, I want to share how I became aware of the stories each of us have. A couple of years ago I started working as a music therapist at a rural hospital...25 beds. It was the first hospital gig I had, and I was the first staff music therapist they had. I had some ideas about what a hospital MT should do, but there was a lot of feeling my way through things on the beginning.

Within the first week or two, I figured something out that shaped the way I have lived as a healer and a music therapist ever since. It was at this time that I realized that yes, everyone has a story to tell but, most of the people I served were willing to tell me their story.

I have been told for years that I am easy to talk to. One of my co-workers told me I have "listening eyes." I found is person to be quite intelligent and quite insightful, so I trust her judgment.

Regardless, I soon figured out that music was the gateway for many of those patients to share their stories with me. A familiar song provided a sense of comfort, or perhaps triggered reminiscence. Often these people would discuss their concerns about their state of health, talk about the good old days going to dances with their spouse. Their children, grandchildren...the grandson who just shipped out to Iraq, the young mother who was on the cusp of spiritual enlightenment, but the reality of her unenlightened family and husband was overpowering...

People would share their very personal stories with me and I listened with respect and a caring ear. I offered insight when I could and commiserated at times. Sometimes I cried with them.

I realized the gift each of these people gave me, entrusting me with their stories. I also realized the responsibility that came with those gifts. Sometimes, those people just needed someone to hear them. They needed someone to listen. When I would try to explain this to others, they were often confused. I said, "Sometimes I would see a patient, sing one song, and we'd start talking. I would leave the room 45 minutes to an hour later, and it was a good music therapy session. One song, and it was a good session."

Now my music therapy friends will appreciate this idea. We try to meet the client where they are and take them where they need to go. Sometimes we make music for them. Sometimes we make music with them. Sometimes we cry with them or laugh with them and sometimes we just listen.

If you pay attention to people, they share parts of their stories all the time. There are people that always seem mad at the world, or happier than could be expected of even the most optimistic person. There are varying degrees in between, but I think the point is made. We have to realize that the stories people are willing to share with most of the world is only part of their story. Most of us walk around behind a facade, a mask. It's human nature...a defense mechanism, at least in the Western world. Let's face it, most of us would feel too vulnerable to put out there our real stories all the time. It would be open season on our emotional selves! Who needs that?

I have learned in my experience as a music therapist and healer that my openness can encourage others to be open too. Often that openness helps facilitate the healing process. Yet I keep parts of my story to myself.

This became evident to me at the chiropractor's office the other day.

When one of the ladies that works in the office was doing electro stim therapy on my neck, I shared with her that my wife and step daughter were going to visit me the following weekend and how much I was looking forward to it because it had been a month since I'd seen them.

One of the other girls who works in the office walked by and was teasing me in a good natured way about something that had happened soon after I started seeing this chiro. One day when I came in for an adjustment, this girl asked me if I wanted to do the stim therapy before the adjustment. I became slightly panicked, and stuttered a bit before saying no, I wanted to do the therapy after the adjustment. As it turned out, I was having an especially hard time dealing with feelings of loneliness and missing my family. That one small change to the routine seemed very upsetting.

The other day, this sassy blonde girl was teasing me about not liking change. She was doing so in a good natured way. Anyone who knows my wife, knows I like sassy. And she was just saying those things in fun, but today I decided to share part of my story I hadn't shared with the office staff. In mock exasperation I said, "You know, I've only been here a month and I've never lived anywhere but Iowa and I just got married for the second time in June and now I'm 1200 miles away from my wife and kids, so if sometimes I come in here and I'm a little neurotic, there's a reason for it."

I tired to keep my tone light even though my words weren't. I didn't want her to feel bad, but I felt it was important for her to understand where I was coming from. I'm careful who I tell this part of my story to and how I tell it. I don't want to be one of those people. You know the ones...the people who unpack their drama for anyone within earshot. It's a form of energy vampirism really. "Feel sorry for me so I can get your attention and thus your energy."

I don't want to be one of those.

Sometimes though, I feel it's important to let select people know that I am dealing with some personal challenges and that sometimes I might need some extra gentleness or just some understanding.

This seems to be the time for me to deal with some of these things in a very direct way.

Two different times this week I found myself in conversations where people were asking about my emotional adjustment to my job, my living situation and such.

The first was someone who will be mentoring me in my job. I admitted that around the second week I was here, I was talking to my wife, in tears. I said, "I don't want to be do this anymore. I miss you, I miss my kids. I want to come home."

I nearly broke into tears recounting that conversation.

My mentor's face grew sincere, intense. She asked me, "Can you do this?"

I assured her that even though I had tough days, that I could. I told her, "Besides, I'm a martial artist...I don't give up."

The second was my supervisor asking how I was settling in. He asked informed questions about if I had found a nice place to live and if I was developing a social network. Good questions to ask someone in my situation.

For every story that a person shares with someone else, there are many they keep to themselves. What would it be like if everyone wore their heart on their sleeves? I will guarantee you this: no matter how open and honest someone is, even if they say they are telling you their whole story, there are stories they keep to themselves. Sometimes they realize they are doing it and sometimes it is pure defense mechanism and the stories are buried deep. That's okay though...that's how a lot of us keep our sanity.

My friends, the stories you have collected in your own lives need to be given a voice. Not just the stories you share, but also the stories you don't share. That voice can still be safe, still remain protected. For me, my journal sees most of the stories I don't give voice to anywhere else. Even so, there are some things I keep to myself. But maybe, just maybe we can coax a small bit of one of those untold stories out to share with someone...even if it's only on paper.

You might be surprised though...sometimes the things that you think will shock and horrify people actually encourage them to be a little more open.

"Hey, I have to tell you, I'm kind of a freak."

"What a relief! So am I!"

Who knows?

But I've got a strong intuition that if, as a global culture, we could all share a little more of our inner selves, there would be a lot less conflict in the world. Maybe we could all relate to each other a little better.

More relating to each other and more understanding; yeah, I think that would be good.

Curse of The Modern Family

My sister in law just gave birth to a beautiful little girl a few days ago! In preparation for the blessed event, my wife has been spending every weekend in Michigan (she lives in Iowa) to help out with my three nieces before mommy has the baby.

I've been in New Mexico for a month now, and I've found out that I have a challenge...knowing what time it is where my family is.

My kids are in Iowa, and have been staying there. Easy to figure...their Central Time Zone is one hour ahead of my Mountain Time Zone.

With my wife however, she keeps traveling between Central Time Zone and Eastern Time Zone. Based on her teaching schedule, I can usually tell where she is going to be, but not always.

I mistakenly thought she was going back to Iowa now that our beautiful niece has arrived...

Wrong...

She's staying in Michigan until she has to go to her college alumi weekend this weekend...still Eastern Time Zone...different state.

What time is it here? What time is it there?

Can we talk on the phone, text...Facetime?

First world problem to be sure, but also indicative of a mobile family in the 21st century!

Everyone Has A Story

During my last MT gig, I learned a universal and undeniable truth: everyone has a story. In a follow up post, I'll explore how I learned those lessons. For now, a few thoughts about those stories we all have.

The idea for this post came to me at a restaurant.

I was sitting perpendicular to a table with a large indigenous family...at least twenty people celebrating a child's birthday.

After the cake was served, a couple of the younger kids, three years old or so, started chasing each other...crawling.

I kept glancing at the kids and smiling. A couple of the moms saw me looking and got up and put a stop to the chase.

I don't know if the parents were embarrassed by the behavior or if they didn't appreciate the guy sitting alone in the restaurant looking at their kids.

Then I thought back to something another white teacher said to me. She got the impression that a lot of the indigenous families in the area are strict with their kids...maybe I was witnessing a cultural expression.

I wanted to say, "Your kids are cute! I'm far away from my family and seeing your kids happy gives me hope that maybe my kids are happy too!"

But it seemed out of place to intervene in their parenting...especially not knowing their stories.

It's for similar reasons that I try to make friends with every dog I see...so I don't miss the furry friends I left behind. Or the reason I smile when I see a couple holding hands or talking sweetly in hushed tones. I remember how good it is to be with the love of my life.

I think about the line from the Bon Jovi song Bed of Roses, "As I dream about movies they won't make of me when I'm dead."

He viewed his life as a story, just as I do. I can't count how many times I say something like, "I guess that's part of my story" or sometimes our story when talking with my wife.

I share bits of my story with people here...I'm newlywed, away from my wife and kids...I smile when kids are being joyful children...

Almost as an afterthought, I enjoy "The Most Interesting Man in the World." One of his thoughts seems appropriate here: "It's never too early to start beefing up your obituary."

What will your obituary say?

What's your story?

If you don't like it, change the plot,.change the characters, but YOU write it.

Live your story every day!

The Warrior's Journey/Hero's Quest Part 3

As this logistics and planning trip to establish our neurologic music therapy practice draws to a close, my thoughts are turning to the journey ahead. In a couple of days I will go back to Iowa for about a month. In that time I need to organize the pragmatic areas of my life, spend as much quality time as I can with my wife and my children, then pack as much of my life as will fit into my Subaru Outback and head off for the Pacific Northwest and my future. This is one part of the Warrior's Journey...the physical, or outer journey.

The outer journey will consist of over 1900 miles of driving, several rest and fuel stops, truck stop food, motel stays, lots of scenery and lots of podcasts. That journey will also include a stop to meet, in person, fellow music therapist and social media friend Faith Halverson-Ramos. All of these things are sure to be an adventure, but they are all secondary to the most important journey...the inner journey.

All examples of warriors' journeys and heroes' quests we find include the physical/ outer journey. What we find though is that the truly important part of the process is the inner journey the warrior takes. I believe this to be true with my own journey.

There are many places I could say this journey started, but I will begin the tale with losing my last job. Almost three weeks earlier, to the day, I proposed to L. I was elated! I was ready to be in a lifelong relationship again. I was designing and teaching Reiki classes at work, and starting to realize my vision of a staff wellness program through rhythm. Things couldn't be better! Okay, I constantly dealt with anxiety for a reason I couldn't figure out. But I was dealing with it.

Then everything changed. No job, no insurance. The reasons for the position ending are unimportant. In my word against their word situations, I like to remember that each viewpoint is skewed and that the truth lies somewhere in the middle.

Right away I applied for a couple of jobs...no luck. I kept looking and applying, but days turned to weeks, then months.

I entered a very dark place. I found myself in a deep depression; a depression like I had never known before. My self confidence and self worth were non-existent. I truly felt worthless. If I couldn't be a music therapist, what good was I? I was a financial and emotional burden to my fiancée, I was no fun for my kids to be around...

I looked the very blackest part of my psyche in the eyes and it scared the hell out of me. I didn't know if I could come back from that place. I very nearly lost myself forever.

That amazing woman that I am proud to say is my wife now kept right on loving me, supporting me...even crying with me.

One day in February she said the words that truly became fateful: "I think you should do a national job search."

If you read Part 2 of this series, you know what happened next.

So what have I learned so far on this journey? I learned that it is foolish and dangerous to tie your sense of self to a job or even a career path...Eckhart Tolle reminds us that none of the external ways we identify ourselves have anything to do with who we reallyare.

I learned that anyone who supports you through your darkest times and loves you for who you are even when you are at your worst, deserves a lifetime of love and devotion...and to see you at your best.

I also learned a new way to look at human potential. It can be best expressed with a quote from Bruce Lee:

"If you always put limits on everything you do, physical or anything else, it will spread into your work and into your life. There are no limits. There are only plateaus and you must not stay there...you must go beyond them."

I decided not to accept limits anymore.

In this lifetime, the most powerful adversary I will face is my own dark side. My journey is far from over. This warrior musician lost faith and hope for a while, but there are many battles left to fight. There are neurologic impairments trying to steal quality of life from people in Oregon and I cannot let that go unchecked.

I now pledge my skills and expertise to this cause. I will not waver from my quest.

I embody these words from Steve Vai:

"I am fearless in my heart They will always see that in my eyes I am The Passion; I am The Warfare I will never stop Always constant, accurate and intense"

The Warrior's Journey/Hero's Quest Part 2

What exactly qualifies as a warrior's quest or hero's journey? For Frodo Baggins, it was a danger-fraught journey to destroy a ring. Luke Skywalker had to become a Jedi and bring peace to the galaxy. For Hiro Nakamura (et al) it was "save the cheerleader, save the world."

I have taken great pleasure in reading books that tell tales of journeys such as these. In one series, The Wheel of Time by Robert Jordan and Robert Jordan & Brandon Sanderson, the characters, even the minor ones, struggle with coming into their own strength and power. At times they are reluctant to claim the roles they have been led into. They continue to grow and adapt, and ultimately succeed.

In The Saga of Recluse and The Spellsong Cycle by L. E. Modesitt Jr., the protagonists are reluctant heroes. They find themselves thrust into challenging situations and make the best of it. They are often praised by others while thinking very humbly about themselves.

So here's my story:

Right now I am in Portland, Oregon. I came here directly from my honeymoon to plan the next chapter of my life. Fellow neurologic music therapist Angie Kopshy and I are creating a clinic specializing in NMT. So many people I talk to are excited that I have this amazing opportunity. Trust me, I'm VERY excited for this opportunity...but this is where my story gets more complicated.

In a recent conversation with my beautiful new wife, she mentioned that most people explore the world a bit in their twenties...spread their wings. I'm 38 and I've lived in Iowa that whole time...born and raised. By 24, I was married to someone who was adamantly place bound. Three amazing children and a divorce later, I still felt place bound. Iowa was all I had ever known...my children were there.

The day I met my wife on the playground as our children were playing, my life changed forever. She is a woman of the world, a traveller. She's lived in many different states, many different countries. She is notplace bound.

After several months of being unemployed, and being severely depressed as job after job seemed to pass me by, my then fiancée quietly said to me, "I think you should do a nationaljob search."

Immediately the questions started flooding in...what about the kids? What about us? Am I really ready to live on my own, that far away from everything I've ever known?

Yes, I said "live on my own." L is a university professor...there is a very established method for profs looking to change location...the process takes at leasta year.

So I started applying for positions in Connecticut, Boston, North Carolina, Minneapolis...places I never thought I would be. Then the fateful day in mid March came. It was late at night and I just found out I had been passed up for a position in Minnesota. I was catching up on Facebook when I saw Angie posted about a NMT clinic in Portland with the simple phrase "Let's get this clinic started."

Angie and I met when we got our NMT training. I thought she was a little bit crazy and she had a quirky sense of humor...my kind of person! We kept in touch through Facebook so when I saw her post, I had to know more.

Long story short, Angie told me of her plans to build this NMT clinic...I offered to help...she accepted.

So here I am in mid June, in Portland. Our first website is up, business cards are ordered and planning is in full swing.

The true journey will be revealed in Part 3.

The Warrior's Journey/Hero's Quest

In just a few minutes I will be boarding a flight that will land me in Portland, Oregon. This is the beginning of a larger journey for me which will result in me moving across the country, alone, (did I mention I just got married a week and a half ago?) and starting a project that could change the course of my professional and personal life. As the boarding call is sounding, I must put off more detail until later, but stay tuned...this warrior musician is just beginning an epic journey.

What is home?

I began writing this post a couple of months ago. But here it is now, as complete as I know how to make it: I woke up earlier than planned this morning. Maybe I'm feeling the excitement of going "home."

Today is Memorial Day. We left home last Thursday to attend my wife's 15 year reunion at Oberlin College. It's been great getting to know some of her college friends and I've enjoyed the sense of nostalgia this weekend has evoked in me about my own college experience (since I have never attended my own college reunions). With all of that, I feel ready to go "home."

So again I reflect on the concept of "home." Of course there is that familiar cliche "home is where the heart is." Who could forget, "be it ever so humble, there's no place like home." (insert three heel clicks here) Daniel LaRusso awkwardly quipped in The Karate Kid II"home is where you hang your hat" (ironic because Daniel doesn't wear a hat at all in the three KK movies he stars in).

This question of "what is home?" really hit me as I left "home" for the holidays this past year. I was driving to the airport and listening to Trans Siberian Orchestra. On their The Christmas Attic album, they talk about going home. One lyric that exemplifies the concept from a song entitled Find Our Way Home: "I think I would be alright, if on this Christmas night, I could just find my way home."

Paul Simon's lyric "gee it's great to be back home...home is where I want to be..." evokes those nostalgic feelings of this ideal concept of "home" but it does not clarify "what is home?"

It seems to me that "home" is a fluid concept for some people.

Until recently, it was less fluid to me. You see, I have lived in Iowa my whole life. For me, Iowa is home. Some people claim their roots by where they are born. I was born in Iowa City. Interesting side story there...around the time I was going to be born, my mom's doctor went missing. Mom found out later that her doctor had been kidnapped at gunpoint by his ex-wife! She handcuffed him, threw him in a car and drove to Missouri. Now Mom's doctor...later my doctor, saw an opportunity to escape. They were in a parking lot, and he decided to jump out of the car and make a run for help. At this point, his ex-wife shot him in the leg! Did I mention that the man who was our family doctor for years is black? So here is a black man, handcuffed and bleeding from a gunshot wound, running through a parking lot in Missouri, in 1974...

I was lucky enough to be a patient of his for many years and even luckier that he was the county coroner who explained things to me with great compassion when my Mom left this life.

So instead of being born in Grinnell, 15 miles from the house I grew up in, I was born 50 miles away in Iowa City.

Is Iowa City "home" because I was born there? The house I spent the first 18 years of my life in Brooklyn...is that "home?"

My wife, Michelle, often claims her New Yorker roots. Born in Manhattan, and living in the city for the first two years of her life, then in suburbs at different times in the years that followed, she embodies the spirit of New York City. At least she embodies the perception that many Midwesterners might have of New Yorkers. That being said, my wife spent many years living in Ann Arbor, Michigan when she was growing up. She still has family in that area, and admits she often thinks of Ann Arbor as home.

I've lived in three different parts of this state during my 38 years. How long does one have to live somewhere for it to be considered "home?" I have limited experience with questions like these.

I decided to ask someone I've known for most of my life. We were on the front page of the local newspaper together in kindergarten with our Valentine's Day crowns on. We had adventures that kids growing up in small towns had and we wrestled with deep questions in elementary and junior high...the meaning of life and things that sort. Our junior year of high school, she was an exchange student in Denmark and that experience changed the course of her life. I asked her when she thinks of home, does she think of the small town we grew up in, or where she's lived in Denmark for many years:

Home is where the heart is! Short and sweet...I'm 37 and have lived in 16 different places in three different countries. I'm pretty much settled now- I hope! But this house is probably not the last place I will live.

Now that I have a family, my home will always be with them. When I was single about 10 years ago, I was living in Denmark but had an opportunity to live in Reykjavik, Iceland for several months in connection with my work. That Christmas my company offered to pay my plane ticket to go "home", and they didn't care if it was back to Denmark or to the USA. So I went "home" to Iowa for Christmas, back "home" to Reykjavik for New Year's and a few months later back "home" to Denmark!

My home is where my kids and husband are now...where I can relax, do and say as I please and "let my hair down." It's where I feel secure, at peace and comfortable.

I've found that it doesn't matter where I live, as long as I can come to my "hideout" and be who I want to be. After having moved so many times I've found that it's easier to keep personal possessions to a minimum, clean up in all the old junk regularly, but keep the relationships with friends and family at the top of the list of my priorities. They will always be there for me, and that's what counts.

It's always a weird feeling going back to Brooklyn. Some things change but mostly everything is still the same. I couldn't wait to get out of there, and I still wouldn't want to live there, but it's certainly not the worst place to have grown up! Brooklyn is still home, but mainly because of the family I still have there. If they weren't there, I probably wouldn't visit.

So, yes, home is where the heart (people you love) is!

By this point some of you may be wondering why I am so focused on this question. I had never really given it much thought until the holidays last year. Yes, I was spending the holidays with my then fiancée and her family, but I felt sadness since I was not with my children. Could I ever truly feel at home without all of the most important people in my life?

I am about to find out.

Soon I will be embarking on one of the greatest adventures of my life. I will be moving from my home state of 38 years, Iowa, to Portland, Oregon. I am going there to open a neurologic music therapy clinic with a friend. But here's the catch...I'm moving there alone.

Being a father of three children, a newlywed husband and a new stepfather, I have to wonder if Portland will ever feel like home. The people I love, my family, will be 1900 miles away. Can I find a home there?

We talk often in our Unitarian Universalist Society about how each of us found our spiritual home. When I move to Portland, I will have the option of attending any one of eight UU churches or fellowships within 25 miles of where I live. No matter where I end up, I think I will always consider the first UU church I attended as my spiritual home. The place that I found as my first marriage was ending. The place I found support and community as a newly divorced single parent; the place where my children first experienced open minded spirituality and witnessed love not bound by traditional gender roles. The place that embraced and nurtured my gifts. The place that I came to with Michelle and all of our children, the first day we met, for a drum circle.

I've even considered this question in regards to the GPS in my car. There is a feature that lets me enter a home address. Then, by pushing one button, the GPS will guide you home. Do I leave my current address in there, as a reminder of the place where my loved ones are? Or do I enter my new address...considering I'm not all that good with directions, especially in cities with many large hills, curvy roads and 2.2 million people, I may have to consider that decision carefully.

But I think in the end, the concept of home means different things to different people. What does it mean to you? How important is the actual space you live in compared to the people you surround yourself with? Those people can be blood relation, intentional family or friends. What makes a place "home" for you?

Is home where the heart is, or where you hang your hat? Is it where you let your hair down; your sanctuary where you do and say what you like?

Maybe it's something that you keep within you. Something intangible. Maybe it's the realization that even if you can't quite put your finger on it, even if you can never put into words exactly what "home" means to you, somehow you know when you're there.