Red Paint and Jesuit Humor

My friend Alice recently gave me James Martin's latest book, Between Heaven and Mirth, as a birthday gift. Years ago, my friend Karen gave me his first book, In Good Company: The Fast Track from the Corporate World to Poverty, Chastity and Obedience.  A Jesuit priest, editor at America magazine and frequent media commentator on religious and moral issues, he is a delightful writer and a pretty funny guy.  His first book told the story of his life as a young corporate management trainee, his unhappiness in the midst of a yuppie good life and his discernment of a vocation to the Jesuits.  The topic is serious.  He talks about sad things, like the death of a college classmate and his parents' separation.  But his wit and sense of humor come through, including his telephone conversation with American Express when he cancels his card just before entering the seminary or his description of a corporate boss mingling with the troops in an unconvincing way at a company picnic.  
His most recent book is an exploration of "why joy, humor and laughter are at the heart of the spiritual life."
One of the chapters is called, "I'm not funny and my life stinks".  He relates the common experience of interacting with someone whose life is a series of misfortunes, big and small and being in places where "a culture of carping and general complaining predominates."   
Then he provided an image that is resonating strongly with me this Thanksgiving season -- "searching for the drop of red paint in a white paint can.  The red represents your one problem.  You have an entire can of white paint -- let's say, a job, a roof over your head, a loving family -- and you choose instead to concentrate on the one tiny red drop -- the one thing wrong in your life"  He goes on to explain how cognitive behavioral therapy can help us to choose thoughts that are more positive, enabling us to focus on what is good and what brings us joy. 
There is a lot of Jesuit humor in the book. much of it self-deprecating.  My favorite is his description of a visit by a Jesuit superior who explains an event from the life of St. Ignatius.  It seems that he was riding on a mule and met a man on the road, also riding a mule.  The man insulted the Virgin Mary.  Ignatius was trying to decide if he should kill the man and let the mule he was riding make the decision as to whether he would take the road that would lead him to the man or away from him.  The mule turned away, sparing the man and also Ignatius of his desire to murder.  The superior concluded by remarking, "Ever since then, asses have been making decisions in the Jesuits."
A personal anecdote that demonstrates Jesuit humor:  JB and I were making conversation with Fr. Jack, director of campus ministry at the university our son attended.  JB was relating the story of our receipt of frequent solicitations by mail on behalf of a Jesuit school.  First the roof was leaking and in need of repair.  Then the van used to transport students broke down.   Then a storm damaged the grounds, uprooting trees.  Father Jack wryly commented that "perhaps they should fire the Development Director and hire a maintenance person."

Thanksgiving for Aunt Mary

My Aunt Mary, at 96, is a living lesson in how to survive. Last Sunday morning after finishing up a yoga class, I switched my phone back on to see missed calls and voice mail messages from my cousin Karen and JB. Immediately I knew that something must have happened to Aunt Mary.
In large Italian families, it is not unusual to have the last unmarried daughter stay at home to care for aging parents. Aunt Mary, one of five girls, did just that. She worked at US Steel, a career woman before it was commonplace. She not only never married, but she never even learned to drive, walking to work, taking buses to town and relying on others to drive her when she needed to get to a family event or holiday celebration.
Everybody should have an Aunt Mary.  She remembers all family birthdays, with cards and presents too.  I was the beneficiary of a great family birthday tradition as a child in which Aunt Mary gave us a dollar for every year of our life.  So getting older meant getting more dough -- and it was surely something to look forward to.
She was devoted first to her aging mother, and then to her siblings, nieces, nephews, and now great and great great nieces and nephews. 
As she and I have gotten older, I have come to realize that while all of those tangible presents and her very real presence have been such constant blessings, there is something so much more edifying about how she lives her life.
Aunt Mary lives totally in the present moment.
This is a lesson I have longed to learn.  In the firmament of magnets that have graced the face of our refrigerator over the years, this is one that can always be found and is attributed to Buddha -- "The secret of health for both mind and body is not to mourn for the past, worry about the future, or to anticipate troubles, but to live in the present moment, wisely and earnestly."
And so last Sunday, when Aunt Mary was taken to the hospital after a fall, she sat peacefully and was engaged in the Steeler game as we waited for the results of her X-rays.  After the ED physician said he saw nothing broken, she prepared to return home (while I am mentally obsessing about how I am going to leave her in her apartment).  It turns out she could not bear weight on her leg, so they ended up keeping her overnight.  That night and the next day when I saw her, her only seeming concern was that I remember to call her favorite bakery and order a birthday cake for my cousin Karen.  She must have told me five times to remember to get the cake and assured me that she would pay for it and asked that I get my uncle or a friend to pick it up. 
I was further reminded of her positive mental outlook when she was presented with her dinner tray of what looked to me like classically nondescript hospital food.  "Beautiful, beautiful", she kept repeating as she ate every bite of food on that tray.   Turns out her hip is broken. 
When I went to see her in the nursing home where she has gone to recover, she was waiting at the dining room table for her dinner tray to arrive. "Beautiful, beautiful", she again exclaimed, as she proceeded to consume every bite on that tray too.
She does not appear to be concerned about when or whether her hip will heal, when or whether she will be able to return to her apartment.  That is because she is not thinking about that.  She is only thinking of what in the present moment she can focus on that is positive.  She is helping me more than I am helping her right now.  Forget Buddha, watch Aunt Mary. 

What Wowed Steve Jobs At the End?

If you have not read the eulogy delivered by Mona Simpson at her brother's memorial service, it's worth taking the time to do so. (http://www.nytimes.com/2011/10/30/opinion/mona-simpsons-eulogy-for-steve-jobs.html?pagewanted=all)  She writes of learning at age 25 that Steve Jobs was her brother and of their relationship in three phases.  "His full life.  His illness.  His dying."   Most people with even a passing interest have learned more about Steve Jobs since his death with the extensive media coverage and the publication of his biography written by Walter Isaacson.  
I am in the most people category; he never much interested me during his lifetime, even though his IPhone is a constant companion.
She tells of his last day, observing of his breath, that it "indicated an arduous journey, some steep path, altitude.  He seemed to be climbing."  His final words?   "Monosyllables repeated three times.  Before embarking, he'd looked at his sister Patty, then for a long time at his children, then at his life's partner, Laurene, and then over their shoulders past them.  Steve's final words were:  OH WOW.  OH WOW.  OH WOW."
When his biographer was interviewed  for 60 Minutes, Steve Kroft asked Isaacson if they had ever discussed the possibility of an afterlife.  Isaacson responded, "I remember sitting in the backyard in his garden one day and he started talking about God.  He said, "sometimes I believe in God, sometimes I don't.  I think it's 50-50 maybe.  But since I've had cancer, I've been thinking about it more.  And I find myself believing it a bit more.  I kind of -- maybe it 's cause I want to believe in an afterlife.  That when you die, it doesn't all just disappear."
Steve Jobs was a visionary.  He expanded our world and changed the way we use technology.  He created things of beauty.
It has given me comfort to know that he saw something in his final hours on earth of a beyond that is awesome and wonderful.  It had to be an afterlife that wowed even Steve Jobs. 

EMM's 10-10-10 Plan

I seem to respond better to words than pictures.  When Dr. Natalie wrote the words "Exercise 30-60 minutes each day" and then spoke the words "Exercise is not optional", I internalized those orders.   Trying to deal with the eating and minding part has been much more challenging than the moving part.   A previous blog post described the first anniversary of my exercise log; and there are already 52 entries since  beginning the second year on August 15.  
One of my favorite wake up TV shows is Morning Joe on MSNBC.  I think of it as a thinking person's show because it is funny but thought provoking (and I like Mika Brzezinski too).  Anyway, they talk sports (baseball mostly) and politics, tracking the Republican candidates and the debates.  Lately, they have been having some fun at Herman Cain's expense.  It seems that when he was in single digit popularity numbers, he did not actually have well thought out policy proposals.  So 9-9-9 was his mantra for awhile until people actually began to seriously examine its impact.  And when he tried to explain the 9% sales tax added onto already existing state and local sales taxes as apples and oranges, the resulting reaction forced him to rethink the whole 9-9-9 concept in pretty short order.
But my 10-10-10 concept has been working pretty well when I cannot get a continuous 30 minutes of exercise on some days.  It means breaking up the exercise into three 10 minute blocks.  Or it can be 10-20 or 15-15.  Today was 10-20.  Upon arriving home, I still had 20 minutes to go.  That's four times around the circle that is our neighborhood.  Done. 

No Vacation from Too Many Choices

If you are looking for a quick getaway from Pittsburgh, Philadelphia or the DC area, consider  Bedford Springs.  It's got a lot to recommend it, especially as fall begins to re-color the landscape.  The resort is chock full of historical documents, photographs and artifacts, from the era when Bedford Springs was the edge of the frontier up through its magnificent restoration and reopening in 2007.  The spa, with its mineral baths and European trained aestheticians (I could only understand about half of what my Polish facialist said) is exquisitely appointed.  And for those of you who are golfers, they have that too. 
It was the summer White House for the only President from Pennsylvania (and the only bachelor one), James Buchanan.   Two other Presidents visited there, John Tyler and Ronald Reagan. 

Desk used by James Buchanan during his years of summering at Bedford Springs



I thought that perhaps by sitting at James Buchanan's desk, I could break my current writers block (or more specifically, a blogging block).  It's been tough to blog about my current state, which can best be described as erratically compliant and frequently off-track in the eating part of this journey.  I am moving just fine, keeping up with my exercise routine (and the fitness center at Bedford Springs is small, but adequate).  There are several blog posts in the queue, in various stages of progress.  One fact that keeps swirling in my head since I first read about it in the Canyon Ranch Magazine is that we make 200 different food decisions a day.  This comes courtesy of the Cornell Food and Brand Lab and its Director, Brian Wansink.  Yes, people actually research this stuff -- and the results are actually helpful to understanding why making lasting change is so challenging.  
I understand that stopping smoking is difficult and that the urge to smoke is one of the strongest addictions to break.   But the decision is easy and it is only one decision.  Making it stick means repeating the same decision over and over again. 
But decisions about not just what to eat but about portion size come at me from all directions.  First I was skeptical about the 200 number.  Then I got to thinking.  The opportunity to make good and bad choices related to food starts from the moment I wake up until the moment I fall asleep (and occasionally in the middle of the night).   And the barrage of conflicting and confusing dietary advice compounded by vagaries of blood sugar readings added to the unpredictable nature of when and how food decisions present themselves adds up to the exhausting reality that it is possible to make 180 good decisions, and another 20 or 10 or even one that totally screw up the best laid plans.  I have learned that planning is best and that pre-controlled portion size works for me.   And beginning again and again. 

Destination Walking



It's about a mile and a half from the parking lot in the Strip to Heinz Field.  One of the strategies I have been trying to use to get in exercise is destination walking -- not movement for movement's sake, but getting from point A to point B.   That's JB walking along the river.   One hour a day seems overwhelming when it's on a treadmill.   But checking out the scenery with a destination in mind and a companion sure makes it go faster.  







Resilience

After a stinging 35-7 loss to the arch rival Baltimore Ravens on their home turf in last week's NFL season opener, the Pittsburgh Steelers delivered a 24-0 win at Heinz Field yesterday.   How does that happen?  I know the "any given Sunday" argument.  But the Steelers were humiliated last week and looked like they were completely unprepared for all of the tricks Baltimore pulled out of its playbook.  One of the pundits suggested that it was because the Ravens played like it was the Superbowl and the Steelers played like it was the first game of the season.  Baltimore and Joe Flacco clearly had something to prove.  During the week following, there has been much discussion about the character, preparation and the age of the team.  Yesterday, they put some of that to rest with a win, albeit against a team that was pretty bad.  And they could not convert a couple of first and goal situations.  These players are pros; they clearly go into a game thinking they can win and want to win. But what happens when they have a day like the one in Baltimore.  Their flubs, fumbles and flaws are out there for the world to see, to be dissected in print, in the blogosphere and on sports talk shows.  How do they turn it around?
Somehow they did.
I have been thinking a lot about turnarounds myself and think there is something to learn from the pros. 
Coaching must be a part of it.  I would love to be a silent bystander to have heard the message delivered by Mike Tomlin to his team last week.  And then analysis -- watching film, seeing what went wrong and making adjustments.   And practice.  And not giving up.  That's why these guys are pros. 
Watching the game on TV and in person are such different experiences.  In the stadium yesterday, the players played to the home crowd.  They sought adulation, waving their arms to the assembled fans to encourage cheers and towel waving demonstrations.  They clearly feed off the emotional energy of 66 thousand plus people. 
But they must have a fundamental belief in their ability to succeed. 
All good lessons.