Lost

A friend vanished from our lives last week. The shock has hit his community of friends hard…it isn’t supposed to happen this way. He and his son went hiking on an impromptu trip to the Colorado mountains and literally disappeared. They called off the search a week after they were last heard from.

I first met Damian as he was joining and I was exiting the women’s council at the company where we worked; it would be the first of three times we passed each other in transition. I was intrigued as to why a guy would ask to join an all-female group. That took courage, and because of it I admired him immediately. Damian is easy to like. He has a ready smile, and when he’s with you, he’s really with you. Since he went missing, I’ve been amazed not only at the number of my friends who knew him but who were also touched by him. They are dispersed not just geographically, but also by gender, age, and job. His family deserves to know how widespread his impact has been.

The shock of their sudden disappearance and lack of closure on their fate have been unsettling. Media headlines used the words “missing” and “lost”, but as I kept Damian and Evan in my prayers during the week of the search, I knew they were never really lost. None of us ever are. While we may lose our way, physically or spiritually, the God who made us and loves us is always with us. We may lose our ability to sense His presence, but He is there just as surely as the oxygen we breathe but cannot see.

My prayers have shifted to Katherine and Lauren as they deal with their loss. I have faith that Damian and Evan are now safe and loved and at peace. My wish for their family is some measure of that peace, knowing that the world is a better place through the many lives they have touched.

“Neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.”  –Romans 8:39

State of the World

This picture is my answer to the 17th question in Matador’s 20 Questions for the Spiritual Seeker, to non-verbally describe the current condition of the world. I see a world of souls traveling not just alone, but lonely, beat down by the troubles of this world. There are times of love and laughter, but there is also violence and loneliness, sickness and poverty. We each wage a never-ending battle against these forces, in a constant struggle to balance them in our favor.

Here is my answer to the 18th question: What is my one wish for the world?

Peace.

“There is such a shelter in each other.”  –Nick Laird

The Greatest Quality

Of all of the questions on Matador’s 20 Questions for the Spiritual Seeker, I found the 15th by far the easiest to answer:  what is the greatest quality humans possess? Disney’s Merlin in The Sword In The Stone summarized the answer perfectly for me when he called love the most powerful force in the universe. I agree. The answer to Question 16, what prevents people from living to their fullest potential, is love’s flipside–fear. We do all kinds of wrong things when we are afraid: afraid of rejection, afraid of being alone, afraid of not being loved.

Love is the only thing that makes life bearable. For a moment, think about what your life would have been like without love. How many of your best memories would vanish without love? How good a replacement would material success be for those moments, even that which you’ve most coveted?

The wonderful reality is that every one of us has it in us to give this gift to others. No matter our talents or gifts, we all possess the ability to lift others, usually multiple times every single day. Yes, love is what we feel for our families and friends. But it’s also smiling at the harried store clerk or a handwritten note of thanks to someone who’s made even a small difference in your life. It’s in the time you spend volunteering to help others. Love is limited only by our imaginations. And its magic is it’s one of the few gifts you can give that gives back. I think I’ll go see how much I can get in return today.

“To love another person is to see the face of God.” –Victor Hugo

Independence

As I reflect this holiday season, I realize one of the greatest gifts I ever received was the gift of dependence. Yes, that’s right–dependence. Let me explain.

I’m a very independent person. Very. I’ve always prided myself on being able to handle anything and be there when others needed help. That’s why it was disconcerting when I faced serious, major surgery a number of years ago. I was off work recovering for 6 weeks, facing an uncertain prognosis. When I vigorously protested yet another dropoff of food and gifts and books, my friend asked what I would want to do if it it were one of them. When I sheepishly answered I’d want to help, she asked me why: “Because I care.” That’s when she hit me right where I was most vulnerable, telling me that letting my friends show me they care was my gift to them. My friend was wise, knowing she could never appeal to me for my own sake. I’ve never forgotten her powerful lesson.

Luckily I haven’t needed to accept help like that since then, though I’m sure my time will come again…it always does. I have, however, had opportunities to share my friend’s wisdom with other like-minded, independent friends. Her lesson has impacted me in small, everyday ways. I’m more willing to open up to others, sharing the daily frustrations, accepting sympathy and advice. My friendships are deeper. I no longer feel so alone. I’m convinced we’re meant to be there for each other, to make life more bearable. Independence is overrated.

“No one has ever become poor by giving.” –Anne Frank

Nostalgia

The recent loss of a friend has had me reminiscing a lot lately. Some of it has been spontaneous, but I’ve been jolted into much of it, as friends post pictures of themselves with our friend. This was a particularly special group, with particularly strong bonds.

We met as strangers, plucked one by one from our comfortable jobs, asked to take part in an adventure that would take us literally around the world. I didn’t have to move my family, but many of the others did, from all corners of the planet. We tucked our loved ones into snug, warm homes in frigid Minnesota, and then we headed out. For two weeks a month, small, random groups of us were our own kind of family, in some random part of the world. Some places were exotic, while others were remote and rough. Together we shared the adventures and hardships, going everywhere as a group, eating all of our meals together. Some of the personalities didn’t mesh, but amazingly most did. It was an awesome thing to watch the most unlikely characters, including myself, become lifelong friends with others of such different backgrounds. The normal barriers of race, religion, age, and gender truly didn’t matter. It was a glimpse of how it should be and will be again someday.

As the posted pictures have whisked me unexpectedly into the past, I have felt fleetingly sad before I smiled. Sadness for the loss of my friend, quickly replaced by the warmth of the memories the pictures evoke. Making this unsolicited emotional journey dozens of times over the last couple of weeks has left me reflecting on the impact of those two short years on my life. It was significant. I made lifelong friends. I became culturally sensitive. I became a better leader and better person, with significant help from these special people.

I’ve come to realize nostalgia is more for a time than a place or even the people. I miss the people, but things inevitably change, making it impossible to go back. My friend is gone, and most of the others have moved on, leaving me with a special bond with this special group of people, scattered again across the globe. I now have only the memories…how wonderful they are.

“Take care of all your memories, for you can not relive them.” –Bob Dylan

Vulnerable

I lost a dear friend this week. Barry, loving husband and father of two amazing boys, was only 42. He was smart, affable, and well-read, and he gave me one of the most valuable gifts one person can give to another:  the freedom to be vulnerable.

I met Barry when I moved to a new job. For a year, I worked to get to know Barry a little, as with everyone in our department of 65. One day it suddenly clicked–we discovered a shared taste in books. That common interest accelerated our friendship, but we were still only casual colleagues. Shortly after that discovery, Barry made another:  he had stage IV brain cancer. He went on leave for the first of many surgeries, in an effort to aggressively fight this monster. While he was at home recovering, I was quietly finishing a 3-year journey to publish a book on the nature of heaven. Very few people were aware of this effort–it was a deeply personal journey. As I completed the draft, I began thinking about sharing my work with trusted others to get their feedback. It was a terrifying proposition, but I knew the day was coming that I would have to get comfortable sharing it.

One day while thinking about Barry and his recovery, I was struck with a thought: should I ask him to review it? He was a nice guy, and we shared an interest in books, but making this substantial request on such a personal subject of a casual colleague fighting his own significant battle felt over the line. I did nothing for two weeks, but couldn’t shake the idea. I finally mustered the courage and sent him an email at home. My answer came a few days later.

Barry graciously agreed to review my draft and give me feedback, but he wanted me to know one thing:  he was agnostic. We had our pact. Barry took his time, and when he returned to the office weeks later, we sat down one afternoon in comfy chairs in the atrium while he shared his suggestions for my manuscript. I was in awe. Barry was thorough and thoughtful in his feedback. With his wife Anna’s input, he had put in a lot of thought and effort for someone not much more than a stranger. And his edits were awesome–I made changes on 90% of his suggestions. He made my book significantly better.

I’ve always been a private person; it generally takes time for me to open up. Writing a book on a deeply personal topic and then sharing it with others took me well outside my comfort zone. Barry gave me a safe place to take my first small baby steps on that terrifying journey. He was candid but kind. And in doing so, he gave me a meaningful life lesson–that when you allow yourself to be vulnerable with others, wonderful things generally happen. I am more open and my life is richer today because of people like Barry who have shown me kindness and caring. Barry, you made an impact on this once-stranger, and you will be deeply missed.

“Don’t say we have come now to the end.
White shores are calling; you and I will meet again.”

–Annie Lennox, “Into The West” (The Lord Of The Rings)

Friendship

I had lunch yesterday with a friend I hadn’t seen in more than 25 years. I wondered if it would be awkward or if we’d pick up where we left off…luckily it was the latter. A new friend pointed out not long ago that our friendships are diverse and cover a broad range of experiences. You can go years without seeing some friends, and it doesn’t matter, while others have expectations of the friendship which ends as soon as they’re not met. This friend said she had struggled with that until she learned to accept that some friendships just aren’t destined to last. It is ok for them to simply be good for that time and place. I liked that.

Having moved companies and states multiple times, I’ve had to accept this reality that not all friendships are long-term. This knowledge always makes the decision to leave bittersweet, but I tell myself there will be awesome new friends to make at the new place, and there always are. The friendships that fade with time or distance are sad but expected…the only ones which really bother me are the ones which disappear suddenly for reasons unknown. I’ve only had a couple of those, but each left a scar.

Social media has been a blessing for reconnecting and keeping up with friends from the past. Surprisingly, I’m even closer to some of them now than I was then, from regular exchanges and keeping up with their lives. My friends have always made life worthwhile, but even more so as I get older. Most of you who are reading this are probably reading this because you are my friend. Thank you for enriching my life; I owe you more than you can ever know.

“I value the friend who for me finds time on his calendar, but I cherish the friend who for me does not consult his calendar.”  –Robert Brault

No Coincidence

I don’t believe in coincidences. Some of them are simply too amazing to write off to random chance. What are the odds, in my first week after moving to Arkansas, of meeting someone who worked in the same orphanage on the outskirts of Beijing where our youngest daughter was being cared for, at the same time she was there? As it turned out, that was just one of several uncanny things we had in common. People say it’s a small world, but that’s ridiculous. As it turned out, this new friend helped me significantly through the transition, lending a sympathetic ear as I left all of my “sanity friends” behind. I’m very grateful.

I guess I have a hard time believing in coincidences because of how often just the right person has been there in my life when I needed them. The most important example is my best friend and husband of 28 years. Incredibly, my soul mate’s family moved to the same small Kansas farm town my own family moved to at about the same time. Neither of those moves was supposed to happen. We had been planning an out of state move instead, and Russ’ family had suffered a tragic loss they needed to move beyond. Even how we met required intervention. Though our town was small, as a middle class, brainiac nerd, I didn’t run in the same circles as the popular, skinny kid from the trailer park who could sure throw a football. If one of his friends hadn’t taken a liking to my sister, my life might have been very different (we owe you big, Curtis). The skinny kid was sure cute, and older too – he was 17. He couldn’t possibly like me, the mousy girl with glasses, could he? But he did, and he rescued me. He says I did the same.

There are so many others, from friends who’ve alternated between being the meat and the dessert of my life, sometimes sustaining me through difficult times, and other times simply making life way more fun, to bosses and employees who told me what I needed to hear so I could become a better leader and coworker. I’m so very grateful for what you’ve all meant in my life. And I can’t believe you were part of it by accident.

“There is no such thing as accident; it is fate misnamed.”  –Napoleon Bonaparte

Friends

I recently had lunch with one of my new friends, and in the simple course of sharing what was going on in my life, she shared a perspective that suddenly brought an objectivity I’d been missing. Wow, what an unexpected gift she gave me. I say it was unexpected, but I really only mean that in that moment with that person, I wasn’t asking for advice. With the kind way she delivered it, it didn’t feel like advice, either. It was one of those countless gentle nudges that we receive from those who care about us, altering the course of our lives by a degree. As the saying goes, those one degree movements are significant when projected out over time.

We left a lot of friends behind in our interstate move last year. That was one of the more difficult parts of the decision. While sad, those big life changes give us new opportunities, new opportunities to impact the lives of others, and have our own lives enriched in return. This new friendship was the result of a completely serendipitous event. I took a chance and reached out, and she reached back. You never know what will happen when you do, but over the course of my life, way more good has resulted than not. I’ve learned to ignore that first and sometimes second awkwardness, having learned that third time is somehow the charm; when the third feels like the first, it just isn’t meant to be. Our lunch last week was a third lunch. Lucky me, I have a new friend to whom I owe a debt. It will be fun to take my time and find a way to repay what I owe. And to look for the next new friend I don’t yet know.

“Friendship is unnecessary, like philosophy, like art…It has no survival value; rather it is one of those things that gives value to survival.”  –C.S. Lewis

Who Has Changed Your Life?

Have you ever had anybody change your life? I don’t mean the big changes like your spouse agreeing to marry you or your kids being born. I’m talking about the unexpected gifts from an otherwise bit player in your life. A friend recently got me thinking about one of my more impactful examples. A decade ago, I was in a senior executive’s office making a passionate case for why our company should create a diversity mentoring program. The leader looked kindly at me, and respectfully asked me what I’d done lately in that regard. I’m not often left speechless, and I vowed never to not have an answer to that question again.

I began reaching out to more junior professionals, often women and often new to our male-dominated business. All were too polite to refuse, though it was clear that most of them spent that first lunch trying to figure out why a stranger had taken an interest in them. Over the years, I became comfortable with the uncomfortableness of those first lunches. No matter how awkward, I always scheduled a second. The cool part is the vast majority of those second lunches were suddenly comfortable, with new “old friends”. Some even came that next time with problems on which they wanted advice; other relationships took more time to develop to where we could both share openly. Of course, a few didn’t survive beyond a second or third awkward lunch, but the majority did and became friends, some of whom I still have today.

I hope I was able to help a few of them, if nothing else by lending a friendly ear. But I gained so much more from them than I ever expected. From the woman born in the Philippines who shared with me that she still dreams in her native language, making me wonder about my own Chinese-born daughter we were in the process of adopting, to the young grain merchant who taught me a profound lesson about myself when I abruptly recognized as in a mirror a personal challenge she shared about herself. My life has been richly blessed, an unexpected blessing and yet perhaps maybe not—giving so often means also receiving. What an amazing gift that executive gave me all those years ago. I am so glad I had the courage (or nerve) to overcome my reserved nature and accept his challenge. I’d be a different leader and less fulfilled person if I hadn’t.

“You miss 100% of the shots you don’t take.”  –Wayne Gretzky