A few months ago, my wife made a comment that changed the way I see and think about this website. Such comments are usually not extraordinary in themselves, but said at the right time, can blow you away. They neatly summarize the progression of your thought, leaving you feeling like everything makes sense all of a sudden.

At least, that’s how this comment felt.

***

website
made of people
learning, loving, living
a center of community
army

I’ve been thinking about my dreams for this website lately. Where do I want to lead it? How do I best use my writing and stories to help people?

As I seek to answer those questions, community is a word I keep returning to. Connecting people through my work is important – especially if the connections go beyond the online space.

I chose the name Bright Army in part because it implies community. An army is not just one person with a cause, but rather a group of people working together. While my writing is a major component, I want this website to be more than that.

***

action
so valuable
taking initiative
to touch the heart through something new
trial

“Armies do things.”

My wife’s statement is simple. But it’s stuck with me. It speaks to a major piece of my dreams for the Bright Army – a dream I haven’t done as much with as I would like.

I have much to offer in telling stories and sharing what I learn from my experiences – and I will continue to do so. But at some point, action is necessary.

Action drives change. Taking time to reflect and contemplate is valuable – and can help you see the world differently. But by itself, thought is not enough. It needs to have its roots in action.

Not all action is the same though. If you keep doing what you’ve been doing all along, nothing will change. You have to step beyond your current patterns.

Yet action can be difficult. It demands energy. It requires you to overcome the inertia embedded in your present way of doing things. And since it’s something you’ve never done before, it pushes you to face uncertainty.

One way to counter that difficulty is with small experiments.

***

greeting
a soft hello
offered to another
who you may often leave alone
kindness

Living in Chicago, I often pass people asking me for money. My tendency, as I discovered recently, is to ignore them or brush them off.

To change my default reaction, and avoid disrespecting the other person, I began an experiment. Instead of saying “No” or ignoring them, I try to initiate the interaction with a greeting – even if it’s nothing more than a smile.

While I consider this experiment ongoing, I’ve learned a couple things so far:

Recognition of another person is a gift itself. True, it doesn’t meet their physical need, but they, like us, have a desire to be acknowledged.

Every person is a person. We’re not so different from each other. I knew this before the experiment, but intentionally engaging with people reinforced the idea.

Maybe this will turn into a habit, a default way of interacting with those asking for money on the street corner. Perhaps it will lead to a different experiment. Either way, I’m learning.

***

testing
short and simple
to question and explore
a small shift in your perspective
missions

Such experiments are powerful for several reasons.

They have a defined time limit – two to four weeks works well. If you were to try to do them indefinitely, you may feel trapped. It’s also easier to commit to doing an activity for a set period of time. It helps you push through the challenging stretches.

The action is simple. It doesn’t require lots of effort or disrupt your daily routine. Too big, and you won’t do anything. And that would defeat the point of the experiment.

The action is specific. You know what to do. You can focus your attention on the experiment and what you’re learning instead of figuring out what steps to take.

It’s easy to pick up the experiment if you miss a day. You give yourself grace and move forward.

They’re repetitive. Doing an action once can be interesting, but doing it over and over ingrains the lessons.

Finally, they are different from your regular activities. They deliberately push you to break your patterns, opening you to evaluate assumptions about your life and view of others.

I’ve witnessed the effectiveness of such experiments on an individual level – in my life – but what if they were done in community? What if a group of people did them at the same time and shared what they were learning with each other? How much deeper would we live out our shared humanity?

Will you join me in finding out?

Starting today, we’ll run a mission per month, exploring one element of living a life of humanity. We’ll test assumptions and mindsets. We’ll examine how we treat and interact with others. And hopefully, we’ll have fun along the way.

Note: If you have an idea for a mission, leave a comment below.

Participate in the action. Post your thoughts, observations, stories, and questions in the comments of the mission page.

At the end of each month, I’ll combine your reflections with mine – since I’ll be doing the missions too – and write them up in a post.

***

I have to be honest with you. I don’t know how this will work out – though if I did, it probably wouldn’t be worth doing. Some missions may prove beneficial, and others may not. Maybe no one will join me. But it’s OK. This is, after all, an experiment.

###

PHOTO: Marching together. South Africa.

Mission 01: The Zulu greeting, sawubona, translates to “I see you.” It recognizes the other person’s existence. How many people do we pass each day without seeing or acknowledging? What if we were to “see them”? … (Read More).

Why did I bother listening to the weatherman? I don’t need this umbrella. The sky shows no indication of rain – not even for a light shower. I continue my slow walk home.

Then the breeze picks up pace. Papers take flight. Posters rip from storefront walls like leaves from a tree. I take another look at the sky.

Oh.

The western sky is not blue. It is not white. Nor is it even the grey of a rainy day. Advancing as an army on horseback, a wall of green-black cloud rides in. The gusts of wind, flashes of lightning, and booms of thunder leave me still and insignificant. There’s nowhere to hide.

I raise my umbrella as the first droplets strike my forehead. Maybe it will be enough to keep me dry.

No chance.

Crouched under my umbrella, I rush home. But my attempt is futile. Caught by the wind, the rain falls sideways. Whenever I adjust my defenses, the wind changes direction, flipping my umbrella inside out.

At last I reach home. I’m soaked. I’m miserable.

***

left without a place
to hide away from the storm
we get rather wet

Life is like the storm sometimes. Flashes of death and violence fill our vision. Booms of fear and doubt leave us stunned. The messiness of it all pours down around us.

Like a man holding up his umbrella in a thunderstorm, we put up feeble defenses against the barrage. We try to block it out – keeping ourselves busy and closing ourselves from others.

Life still touches us though. The fear, the doubt, the violence, and the mess leave us soaked. They leave us overwhelmed. They leave us miserable.

***

So far away the lightning starts to flash
As the storm clouds show their mighty fury
Upon rooftops the rain begins to lash
As my train heads northbound in a hurry
Out of the door into the pounding rain
I run and let it fall upon my head
The floods of delight I cannot contain
In rivers of happiness I am led
Then the sky is filled with a flash of light
Six seconds pass before the thunder’s boom
With that I decide to call it a night
And reach at last the shelter of a room
I walk inside with a smile on my face
Having been wrapped in the storm’s great embrace

Taking the train to Taekwondo, I watch another storm crash down. I made it to the train before the rain started, but the chances of it abating before I reach my destination look slim.

Three stops from my destination the hail starts. Inch and a half balls of ice bounce off of the wooden platform of the station.

One stop to go. Thankfully, there’s no more hail. But the rain still pours down.

My stop. It’s still raining.

Throwing aside all pretense of staying dry, I take off running. I splash through puddles. I watch the water ripple and dance as it bounces off the wet pavement. I admire the sheets of rain illuminated by the street lights. I smile at the people who look at me as though I am crazy. I jump at the flashes of lightning that split the sky in two. I am alive. Amid the storm, I am alive.

I run in defiance. I defy the norms that demand we be serious all the time. I defy the notion that we’re not supposed to have fun or be silly as an adult. I defy the storm itself.

Reaching my destination, I’m soaked. My shirt feels like it was dipped in a tub of water. A splash of mud darkens my trousers. Yet I don’t care. That moment of joy, that short run through the rain, is the highlight of my week.

***

left without a need
to hide away from the storm
we get rather wet

Looking at all the storms and struggle in our lives, we should have no reason for joy. We should have no reason for hope. But we do.

We live. We laugh. We play. We delight in beauty. We cherish each other. We defy the storm around us.

Joy is choosing to see the fear, the doubt, and mess of life not as grounds for despair but as reasons to thrive. It’s choosing to celebrate the simple yet remarkable fact that we are alive in the chaos. It’s choosing to smile at the beauty and wonder of the storm. It’s choosing to run through the rain.

Will you run with me?

###

PHOTO: Let the rain fall down all around. Chicago.

On another day, you may notice the texture of the cloudy sky. You may see how light passes through it in varying amounts – leaving some areas white and others dark. You may watch it stretch and move. You may see that it is not as drab or dull as it seems on first glance.

Not today though.

On another day, you may respond differently to the man who asks, “How are you doing?” You may not choose to give the standard and expected response, “Good.” A response inviting no follow up, no explanation, or no vulnerability on your part. A response putting on a mask of normality. A response pretending you, unlike the rest of the world, have your act together – even though you know full well you don’t. You may embrace the truth that sharing your burdens with another lightens the load.

Not today though.

On another day, you may reflect on all the good things you have in your life. You may see that for all struggles of today, you have so much to be thankful for. You may celebrate having food and shelter. You may rejoice in knowing people who love you.

Not today though.

On another day, you may contemplate on the fact that your present mood is a reminder that you are still alive. You still feel. You still react to life.

Not today though.

On another day, you may ponder that in this very moment there is another human being in the world wishing you joy and happiness. You may rejoice in knowing there is someone who delights in seeing you thrive.

Not today though.

On another day, you may take time and get away from the noise. You may go on a long walk and breathe the fresh lake-side air. You may feel the touch of the wind on your face and believe it to be a kiss of greeting instead of a slap of chill. You may find peace in the stillness of the fog.

Not today though.

On another day, you may apply to yourself an extra measure of grace.

Not today though.

On another day, you may recall that the sun comes up each morning, the night does not last forever, and the rain eventually stops.

Not today though.

On another day, you may remember that there is life in the rain.

But not today.

***

Today you are stuck. You can’t see past the shadow of the grey sky. You can’t see beyond the tears of the rainy day. It is as though the world around you echoes your claims of hopelessness.

All you can do is to take one foot and make a step. Then with the other foot. Step. Step. Step. You keep moving. You keep going. You hum the words to a song. Eventually, you’ll come to believe the chorus.

Hey.
You’re OK.
You’ll be fine.
Just breathe.

###

PHOTO: Some days are just grey and rainy. Chicago.

Have you ever fallen short? Have you ever felt it was your fault? Have you ever beat yourself up over it? I have.

Sitting in a coffee shop, I evaluate the progress of the Bright Army. Have I met my expectations? Am I where I hoped to be when I began? Is the project growing as I would like?

To many of my questions, the answer is no. In many areas, it has not lived up my hopes and dreams.

I can’t help but feel it’s my fault. I see everything I didn’t do. I see my struggles and weaknesses. I feel as if I no matter how hard I try nothing ever changes. And I become discouraged.

What is the point of trying? I’ll never go anywhere with this project. Why bother trying to become a writer? I obviously don’t put in the effort to make it happen. I should just give up.

***

Sometimes, we’re too hard on ourselves.

Sometimes, we need to give ourselves grace.

***

When you’re too tired to work…

When you tried your hardest, but didn’t succeed…

When you get too busy and life blurs past you…

When your dreams, despite your best intentions, still seem distant…

When you don’t have enough willpower to push through to the end…

When you don’t measure up to the expectation to be extrordinary…

When you accidentally hurt someone…

When you fail to do the dishes despite planning to do them at least ten times…

When you miss an important deadline…

When you get impatient…

When you’re holding a mug and it falls to the floor and shatters…

When you can’t find your keys…

When you’re running late to a meeting…

When you fall asleep while trying to meditate…

When you feel as if your work is worthless after spending hours and hours on it…

When you can’t keep your word to someone you care about…

When you get stuck…

When you go to bed later than you intended…

When you get up later than you intended…

When you can’t sleep…

When you forget to return your library book and have to pay a big fine…

When you feel as though you ought to be more forgiving to others…

When your willpower is not enough…

When you’re learning a new skill and can’t get quite get it right…

When you think you have mastered a skill but can’t quite get it right…

When you fall short of who you think you could be…

When you wonder why you are so hard on yourself – why you fail so often at letting go…

Give yourself grace.

***

By definition, we don’t deserve grace. It’s unearned. Give it to yourself anyways. The world throws enough challenges at you as it is. No need to add your accusations.

Grace is not a means of hiding. You still have to face the consequences of what happened. You still have to learn from the situation. You still have to move forward. But forgiving yourself gives you permission to do so.

grace
puts you in a space
to step out from the darkest place
so you can face
and embrace
grace

***

Returning home, I watch my daughter as she sits on her mom’s lap. She’s staring at her book. As I near her, she glances in my direction. Her face lights up with a grin that seems to say:

“Daddy. Daddy. I love you. I’m happy you’re here.”

I may not always feel I deserve her love. I don’t live always live up to the model I want to be for her. But she gives me grace anyways. Maybe I ought to do the same for myself.

###

PHOTO: Basking in the lightness of grace.

PS: Happy birthday, Matthew.

PPS: Many thanks to my wife for reminding me to give myself grace.

I’m terribly sorry, but I’ve been busy this week. I have a daughter, you know. She needs taking care of. Besides that, I’m trying to build a web design business. That takes time. And while I’m at it, my email needs checking at least fifty times a day. Don’t ask why. It just does.

When I’m a little less busy, I’ll spend more time with people. Perhaps I could wander the streets and hear the stories of others.

When my schedule isn’t so hectic, I’ll spend more time writing. Maybe I will even write a book.

When I have more free time, I’ll take a break and rest. I may take a whole day to do nothing.

I don’t know when that will happen, but I’ll get there eventually.

Eventually…

Eventually…

Eventually…

***

Sometimes I wonder if my superpower is making excuses. I can always think of a reason for not doing something. But of all the excuses I come up with, few seem as dangerous, as deceitful, as the excuse that I’m too busy.

Being busy sounds reasonable. Work is good, right? As long as I’m productive, all is well.

But is it?

Who are you to say that I should rest?
I bet you that are not so over-stressed

What if I’m not built to be in perpetual motion?

The human body needs rest. The best time management advice I’ve received is to manage energy instead of time. That may mean taking time away from work to recharge.

In college, I often found myself up late with a paper due the next day. On those nights, I learned that I was better off going to bed, getting some rest, and finishing the paper in the morning rather than push through the night. Energized by the sleep, I finished the paper quicker than if I had worked all night.

Besides restoring energy, the mind processes life in those times of quiet. Many of my best solutions and insights come when I step back from the work for a bit.

This task is almost done
It’s almost done
Soon I can get going on the next one

What if I’m missing out on life?

When I’m busy, I’m focused on the tasks at hand. Complete one task. Get started on the next one. Repeat. But I’m too busy to notice the world around me.

I miss the beauty around me – blossoms in the trees, songs of the robin and warmth of the sunlight.

I miss the people in my life – their smiles, their love and their stories.

I miss the joy of my work – challenge, curiosity and growth.

Afraid? Who, me?
I assure you I’m too busy

What if I’m using busyness to hide?

Many worthwhile activities require pushing out of my comfort zone. Building relationships asks me to open myself to others. Creating demands hard work and facing fear. Stillness forces me to face myself, including my failures and weaknesses.

Going outside my comfort zone is scary. Busyness lets me keep doing what seems safe instead.

Is this activity what I should do?
Someday I’ll take the time to see if that is true

What if I’m forgetting to evaluate what I’m doing?

Accomplishing tasks can be beneficial, but not if they’re the wrong tasks. Lost in activity, I stop examining how I spend my time.

Before I know it, I loose sight of what I value. I let my dreams slip away.

***

So how do you make yourself less busy? How do you regain responsibility? Here’s what I’ve discovered.

Banish the phrase, “I’m too busy.” Don’t use it in any circumstances or for any reason. Instead, take ownership of your choices. Acknowledge the real motivations for your decisions.

Reduce unwanted commitments. Some you can drop right away. Others will take longer – but don’t use that as an excuse for not making a change.

Create habits of silence. Build time in your schedule for rest. I try to meditate every day, but for you it may be a different activity.

Fill your life with worthwhile activities. Do the work that scares you. Help people. Create value.

And if my experience is anything to go by, you’ll get more done.

###

PHOTO: To busy to notice the beauty. Chicago Botanic Gardens.

PS: If you ever catch me say, “I’m to busy,” I give you permission to hit me. I’m half serious about that.

I find it a great temptation to try to control every detail of my life. Despite all I’ve learned about the importance of surrender, I continue to fight the urge to put everything into order – especially when it comes to relationships.

People are busy. I better schedule our meeting well in advance. I need to have a plan. We wouldn’t want to be bored.

But for all my efforts, I continue to find that structure, while having its uses, is limited. I find so many of my greatest memories with friends – points where we deepened our relationship – hinge on the unexpected.

***

Joy likes to come in unexpected ways
Open yourself to changing what you planned
Yes is the proper response on those days
Make the most out of the moment in hand
Adventure beckons you to lovely state
Reclaim the childlike spirit lost within
Improvise your life and don’t dare to wait
Hold to the freedom to take action when
Unforeseen requests are given to you
Excitedly go join your lovely friend
Revel in all the fun things that you do
Times that to memory you will append
Amazing moments in their company
So wonderful and alive you will be

I have my plans all set for the day. Write a bit. Do some web design work. Write some more. Have dinner with my wife. It sounds like a pretty good plan to me. I get to work.

And then an unexpected notice catches my attention. A friend invites me to a fun event downtown. No idea what it’s about. No idea what to expect. But I know I should go. I know that it’s a chance for something fun and spontaneous.

I put on my coat, say goodbye to my wife, and head out the door.

Arriving downtown, we meet and join the crowd. Neither of us know what will happen.

A lady with a yellow umbrella arrives and gets us started. The event is called “Beckoning of the Lovely”. It began as a public art project, but I think it’s just an excuse to be silly and have fun.

We sing happy birthday to everyone with a birthday. We recite a pledge. People get the opportunity to tell us something important. One young lad proposes to his girlfriend. His important message receives a yes and a smile.

We sing again. This time the song is “We’re here because we’re here.” A bit silly, but still meaningful. Is it not enough that you are here because you here? Is it not enough to simply be alive?

The event ends by our signing pillowcases with markers. I choose not to take one, but happily sign my friend’s – and those of several others. We smile at the signatures. My friend gets a drawing of a fox next to one signature.

The event is over, so we head inside for coffee. Over a croissant, fancy hot chocolate and espresso, we talk. I catch up on her life. She catches up on mine. We laugh. We share dreams and hopes. We trade sympathies and encouragement for moments of struggle.

Hours pass. Time slips away. We’re lost in conversation.

As the day ends, we part ways, and I catch the bus home.

The event was fun. The time together was good. But what matters most is the yes. For saying yes to the opportunity is more about saying yes to the person than to the event. It says you care.

***

simple conversations
chance meetings between friends to
forge community

Coffee shops are among my favorite places to work. They’re relatively distraction-free and usually have a pleasant atmosphere. Lost in my music, I sit down and write.

I only pause for a drink of water. But as I get up, I spot someone I know. I wasn’t expecting to see them here. I go say hello.

He’s part of my Taekwondo school and asks about the recent promotion test – yay for red belt. How did it go? What do I need to work on? We talk until he has to get going.

It’s a simple conversation, but it is in the simple and everyday matters of life that we live. Such unexpected meetings ground us in our relationships and in our community.

***

how can so much joy
fit within the small confines
of an envelope

I love checking the mail when I come home. Even though I mostly just get junk mail, there’s always the possibility of surprise.

Turn the key. Open the door. Ooooh, lots of mail today. I wonder if any of it is interesting.

Junk mail.

Junk mail.

Junk mail. Seriously, why do companies keep sending me advertisements for car insurance. I don’t own a car.

Junk mail.

Hey, what’s this? I know that name. Wow. I haven’t heard from them in ages. It’s so nice of them to think of me.

A thoughtful letter is often enough to make my day. To know that a friend cared enough to say hello and wish me well makes whatever challenges I face seem a little bit more manageable. I know that I have people who love me.

Maybe I’ll even write back.

***

There’s a place for order in relationships. It’s necessary to be intentional. But don’t forget to leave room for the unexpected. For in those moments of surprise is opportunity for delight. There’s the chance to grow and build friendships. And to borrow a phrase I heard recently, “building and cultivating relationships is the most important work we ever do.”

***

wake to morning sun
to see someone that you love
and find great delight

I wake up to the sound of my daughter, who had been sleeping beside me. She probably wants to eat. Rolling over, I glance at her.

Seeing me, her face lights up with a smile – a grin so big that it seems to cover her whole face. It’s an unexpected joy and is now one of my favorite memories with her.

###

PHOTO: Beckoned by the lovely people. Chicago.

I can think of few better ways to wake up than with the sun streaming through my window and a good day ahead of me. And the greeting is all the better when accompanied by the peaceful sounds of morning coming through the window.

Construction is not one of those sounds – especially not at 6:30 in the morning.

Beep. Beep. Beep. The dump truck reverses into position. A bulldozer revs its engine as it clears the rubble. Noise fills the air as the construction crews tear up our street.

Grumbling, I get out of bed. I’m not a fan of noise – all the more when it wakes me up.

Why do the crews have to start so early? Do they not know people are asleep at this hour? Do they not know people don’t want to hear their noise? Surely they’re out to bother me.

home i go
to see those i know
the trip better not be slow

I’m heading home after a day downtown and am looking forward to getting back. I get to see my wife. I get to see my daughter. And supper will be ready when I arrive.

I walk down the stairs, tap my transit pass, and go through the turnstiles. Once on the platform, I take a quick glance down the tracks. The train’s stopped at the previous station. Excellent. It will be here in a minute or two. Perfect timing.

Five minutes pass. Ten minutes pass. Fifteen minutes pass. Twenty minutes pass. The train remains at the previous station.

Why is the operator not pulling forward? Doesn’t she know I’m not in the mood for waiting? Why is she holding up the train? What’s happened this time?

clearing out
stuff laying about
get rid of it, no doubt

My wife and I have been working hard to get rid of stuff we don’t need. But just because we don’t need it doesn’t mean no one else does.

Someone’s coming soon to pick up an item. Yay for clearing out the apartment. She just called to say she’ll be here in twenty minutes. Perfect. I can read for a bit, run the item downstairs, and go make my coffee.

Twenty minutes turns into an hour. I’m getting impatient. Why is she not coming when she said she would? Why is she not respecting my time?

worn well
so easy to tell
it’s time to bid farewell

My current pair of shoes nears the end of its useful life. After years of wear, I’ve walked them into the ground. It’s time to invest in a new pair.

Picking out the shoes I like, I place an order online. It qualifies for free next-day shipping. Hooray, I won’t have to wait long to get them.

The scheduled delivery time arrives. At last, I’ll have comfortable shoes. Checking the status via the postal service website, I learn that the address listed on the package is invalid. The shoes won’t be arriving today.

What? Why did they mess up and put the wrong address on the label?

today
the water and spray
is the perfect place to play

The water may be cold, but on a hot day nothing beats taking a swim in the lake. Temperatures soar, and a strong wind gusts in from the east, which should also create some decent sized waves.

I put on my swimsuit, grab a towel, and walk toward the beach. On the way, I reflect on other fun times I’ve had in the waves. It’s going to be amazing.

I near the beach. In the distance I can see the white of the crashing waves. As expected, they look big – or at least as big as they get on this lake. It’s going to be fun.

Reaching the beach, a red flag waves over the sands. No swimming allowed.

Those lifeguards, why do they always have to keep people from having fun on the beach? Why are they so overprotective?

***

Circumstances don’t always work out how I’d like. People don’t always act the way I want them to. My response is sometimes to assume the worst – to believe the person is out to make life difficult for me. I blame them.

But, most of the time, I’m wrong.

***

they make noise
the road they destroy
so i can have what i enjoy

The construction crews are working on a major improvement project on the water mains, gas pipes, and sewer lines. Their work is for my benefit. Not only do they combine all three projects into one – and avoid having to tear up the road multiple times – their work is essential to many of the luxuries I enjoy.

Because of their work, I get clean, drinkable water delivered straight to my tap.

Because of their work, I’m able to cook on my gas stove and keep warm during the winter.

Because of their work, the sewers don’t overflow after heavy storms, filling the air with an unpleasant smell.

at last here
with apologies sincere
a greater need was near

The train finally pulls into the station. The conductor apologizes for the delay. She announces that there was a medical emergency on a train ahead of us, and they had to wait for the fire department to help the individual in need.

The conductor had nothing to do with the situation. She probably wanted to get moving again too. And what about the person in trouble? Wouldn’t I want the train to stop if I had a medical problem? Getting home on time is not more important than that.

doorbells ring
and downstairs i bring
the requested thing

The lady rings the doorbell to pick up the item. As I head down the stairs, I ponder the delay. Who am I to judge her situation? Maybe she had an emergency come up. Perhaps she got sidetracked by a conversation with a friend she hadn’t seen in a while. Or maybe it took longer to get to my place than she expected. I’m sure she has a good reason.

Reaching the door, I greet her. We chat for a moment, I hand her what she came for, and she heads out. She seems like a nice lady.

investigate
before becoming irate
that the packages is so late

Frustrated at the delay on my shoe order, I check the receipt from my purchase. Oops. The mistake was mine. I made a typo when I entered in the address. They just used what I provided.

And when I call to correct the mistake, the customer service team is nothing but helpful. They notify the postal service of the correct address, making sure the package doesn’t get returned.

A few days later, my shoes arrive. They are just what I expected them to be. I put them on and go out for a stroll.

can’t get in
to go for a swim
maybe they have a reason

I stand watching the waves and ponder the decision of the lifeguards to close the beach for swimming. They are probably operating under the instructions of their supervisors. It isn’t their fault.

Moreover, their aim is not to prevent fun, but to ensure people are safe. They don’t want anyone to drown or get dragged out into the lake by the undercurrent. And while I believe myself to be a strong enough swimmer to ride out the waves, many of the younger children who play in the water are not. The lifeguards’ intent is to protect them.

I turn from the beach and enjoy the walk home.

***

Snap judgments of a situation always depend on an underlying set of assumptions. And while those are often correct, they aren’t always. You may not know the full situation. You may have incomplete information.

When people don’t do what you want them to, give them the benefit of the doubt. When circumstances don’t work out the way you were hoping, take them for the best.

That little shift – or not so little a shift – in mentality is enough to make nearly any situation more favorable.

###

PHOTO: Looks like favorable conditions to me. Chicago.

I believe it’s the first time I’ve ever called 9-1-1. Memory may have a way of playing tricks on me, but I can’t recall another instance. Either way, I won’t forget the incident anytime soon.

I walk to the office of a client to discuss a new project with them. The stretch of unseasonable warmth continues, and the day could not be better. Sun shines, blossoms bloom, and birds sing. Squirrels chase each other through the trees.

I have plenty of time. No hurry. No hurry at all.

Four blocks from my destination, I approach a man with a walker. I wish him good day. But unlike most people I greet on the sidewalk, he doesn’t simply return the greeting and continue on his way.

“Could you call 9-1-1 for me?” he whispers weakly.

Whoa. “What’s wrong?”

He tells me his MS is flaring up and he needs an ambulance. Without hesitating, I make the phone call.

“Hello, I’m on the corner of Greenview and Fargo with a gentleman who requests medical assistance. He says his MS is flaring up.”

“How old do you think he is?”

I ask the man his age.

“Thirty-four,” he replies.

Without thinking, I repeat his answer to the woman on the phone. Though glancing at the man again, he must surely be older than that – maybe in his fifties. Oh well, it’s not a big deal.

The lady on the phone verified our location, gave me instructions not to give the man any food or water, confirmed my phone number in case she needed to call me, and told me someone would be on the way.

I waited with the man.

***

Fifteen minutes later, as I near the offices for my meeting, I pass a man on crutches. He asks me for a dollar. Without hesitation, I tell him not today and continue on my way.

***

so glad to be of help
so glad to do the right thing
what?
who is this?
you want a dollar?
no
i can’t help right now

Why?

Why do I help one man and not the other? Why do I give attention and empathy to the first man but not the second?

Was it the urgency of the situation? Calling an ambulance is an immediate need. Giving a dollar is not as urgent. If he got the money later, he would probably be alright. Maybe could get a meal at a shelter. But I didn’t take the time to be sure. I didn’t ask the man what his need was. I just chose to brush him off.

Was it that I didn’t have enough time to respond to the second man? Helping the first man meant I didn’t have much time left before my meeting. But really, how much time does it take to say hello, chat for a bit, pull a dollar out of my wallet, and continue on my way? Not much.

Was it that helping the second man cost me more? Giving up money means surrendering the opportunity to use it in other ways. Although, thanks to the blessings I’ve received, a dollar is not a high cost to me. But giving isn’t the only way to help him. I could ask him his name, say hello and acknowledge his presence.

Was it that the first situation broke my perception of normal? As a human being, I have a tendency to notice what is unusual or out of place. My brain is wired to look for objects and situations that don’t match the patterns in my head. Someone asking me to call an ambulance is not an everyday occurrence. When it happens, I pay attention.

Was it that I felt more responsible for the first man? If he was in genuine need of urgent care, and I refused to help him, then I have no excuse. I was there. I was able to get him the help he needed. To say no would be to directly say his life isn’t worth saving. Excuses are harder to make when the direct consequences of your actions are so visible.

I suspect, as with many questions in life, the answer is a blend of possibilities. It’s not just one reason or another. It’s complicated.

***

i want to help
i want to make a difference
but my response is
so often
to not help
to not make
a difference
it’s a good thing that i
can change that response

What if I want to change my reaction to the second man? What if I decide that men and women such as he deserve my help, or at the least, my attention? How do I push myself to greater generosity and empathy?

The harsh reality is that I have people asking me for money nearly every time I walk around the city. These men and women often fade into the background of my attention. I push them to the periphery of my mind like the countless advertisements I see. I ignore their pleas for help unless I make a conscious effort to do otherwise.

Part of that means calling out what I’m afraid of. I fear opening myself to their suffering. I fear the added responsibility. I fear my actions won’t help or may even make the situation worse. But if I want to act, I have to face my fears.

Part of that means changing my default response. Instead of saying no right away, I can ask the person their name or how they’re doing. I can choose to engage them as a human being. Doing so shifts the dynamic of the conversation and changes the way I feel about offering – or not offering – assistance. I move from guilt to generosity.

Part of that means setting boundaries and acknowledging that I have finite resources. I can’t help everyone. But there’s lots of people that I can – and want to – assist. Saying no to some people gives me the freedom to say yes to others.

Part of that means accepting failure. No matter what I do, I’m bound to make mistakes. Sometimes, my giving will make the situation worse. Sometimes, I’m conned by someone who isn’t in need. Sometimes, I’ll give and the gift won’t be appreciated. Sometimes, I won’t give to someone who really needs my help. But that’s OK.

All I can do is strive to do right in each situation. Sometime’s I’ll mess up, and other times I won’t act when I should. But I’m willing to try. I’m willing to face the complexity.

***

sometimes in life
events are more more complex
than first glances show

As I sat with the man, waiting for the ambulance, a lady came from across the street and asked him what he was doing. It turned out that he checked in at a nearby health clinic the night before and could have asked for help there. We waited together until the emergency dispatch arrived. Confident the man was in good hands, I wished him well and continued on my way.

So maybe I didn’t need to help him. He had people to look after him nearby. But I didn’t know that beforehand. Sometimes you just have to make a judgment call. And sometimes, it’s complicated.

###

PHOTO: Prepared to respond to an emergency. Wheaton, IL.

It’s a sunny day – much warmer than you would expect for this time of year. But you’re not complaining. Dog at your side, you are out for a stroll. It feels good to be outside.

You’re not the only one who decided to come outside today. The whole neighborhood seems to be enjoying the sun. So many people.

Some people have familiar faces. You stopped a moment ago to talk with friends who were enjoying a picnic on the grass. You played with their kids, chatted for a moment, and enjoyed a few chips. But the dog got impatient so you kept moving.

Some people jog along the shoreline. Others bike. And still others lay sleeping in the sunshine.

Some people are out with their children. A couple sits on the grass nearby with their little baby. She’s so cute.

And then there’s you, your dog, and the stick you just picked up.

Stick in hand, you sway back and forth. The dog stares intently – as if the rest of the world has suddenly disappeared.

You fake a throw. The dog jumps, but doesn’t take the bait. He’s too smart for that. He barks.

Finally, you set the stick loose. With all your strength, you launch it into the air. High and far it goes. And like a spring, wound to its limit and suddenly released, the dog sprints after the stick. It’s impressive how fast that little dog can move – he doesn’t move that quickly when you try to get him to come inside.

The dog chews on the stick in the distance, and you look out at the lake. So blue. So peaceful. A bird flies overhead. You cast a glance back at the dog.

Hey. No. Stop that. Bad dog. Leave that baby alone. Come here.

***

furry companion
that’s trotting by your side in
constant happiness

Have you ever tried to imagine what the world looks like through the eyes of a dog?

Out on a walk – a nice, nice walk. What’s better than going out on a walk? Master is slow, but I’ll get her to walk faster. Faster. Faster. There’s so much to see, so much to do, so much fun to be had.

Hmmmm. This grass has the scent of some other dogs. They passed here not long ago. Must find them. Must find them. Must go find them.

Mmmmm. The wind smells like hamburger. Mmmmm. I love hamburger. Must sneak off and grab one. She won’t see me. No, she won’t. Not this time.

Wait. She’s holding a stick. Stick. Stick. Stick. Stick. Stick. Must watch stick.

Go. No. Not yet. Bark.

The stick is loose. The stick is loose. Must catch stick. Run. Run. Run. Run. Run.

I got it. I got it. It’s all mine. Mmmmmm. So much good in this stick. Good, good stick. Must get it all out.

Hey, look at that human puppy. So cute. Going to say hello. Going to make a new friend. Lick. Lick. Huh? Why is master yelling at me?

***

stick of knotted wood
once of the noble oak tree
now laying on dirt

Or maybe you ponder the perspective of a stick.

Oh to be a poor and lonesome stick upon the ground. Not much of note happens these days – no birds to perch upon me or butterflies to use me for their rest. How long has it been since I was last on that tree? Seems like forever ago – another lifetime perhaps.

All I have left is memories. I remember the delight of being on that tree – where I had a purpose. I recall the satisfaction of being where my talents were of use – where I was a channel of life. But wishing to be where I am no longer, and where I can be no more, is a useless thought. ‘Tis no chance of such fortune now. I shall remain here on the ground – wasting away into the dust I rest upon. At least I shall take consolation in my rest – in my stillness.

Sir. Sir. I assure you there is no need to wave me back and forth like this. Kindly stop this activity. Let me fade away in peace.

Sir, I asked you politely to stop. If you will still insist on waving me to and fro like a flag at least tie some cloth to me so I can be a flag. Give me the dignity of some noble purpose so that I may bear this torment.

What’s this? I have been sent into the air. I float as a dream – flying like the birds. At last, I am free.

Mr. Dog. I assure you that it is not a necessity to bite me at this time. Kindly refrain from this aggressive action. Please, Mr. Dog, I am finding this experience most unpleasant. Down gentle-dog. Down.

Will you look at that? He listened.

***

blanket of grass
provides a fine canvas for
curiosity

Or perhaps you imagine a look through the baby’s perspective.

Sitting on the grass. Mommy is close by, so I’m safe. Daddy is also close by. He’s making such funny faces. Why is he so silly?

There’s so much to see right now. Who’s blowing so hard on my face? What is this bright green stuff that I’m sitting on? What’s that creature coming toward me? It looks happy.

Hehe. That feels so funny – all wet and cold.

***

It’s tough to see the world through a perspective different than your own. You lack complete information. Your bias and worldview get in the way. You make assumptions that may or may not be accurate. But it’s worth the effort.

Try it. You may be surprised by what you find.

***

riding on the breeze
gazing at the world below
through tiny bird eyes

Then there’s always the bird’s-eye view.

Whoa. Where did that stick come from? Lucky miss, that was.

###

PHOTO: Eye level with the dog. Kenya.

PS: My apologies in advance for any misrepresentations of dogs, sticks, babies, or birds.

PPS: For those in the northern hemisphere, happy first day of spring.

I’m not sure what part of her story brought the first teardrops to my eyes.

Maybe it was when told me how much she missed her old job.

Perhaps it was when she shared how she lost everything she owned because she was a few minutes late in paying the bill on her storage unit.

Or it could have been the point she talked about her mother’s pride in her making it on her own in Chicago. That was six months ago, and she doesn’t have the strength to admit to her family that she lost her job and is homeless.

As she shared her story over hot dogs and fries, I felt my heart breaking. No words could diminish the depth of her suffering. All I had in my power to do was to listen – to open myself to her story. So I did.

***

Wandering through downtown Chicago, a man asks me for some change. I pause to talk to him.

I ask his name, he gives it and I give him mine. We shake hands.

He tells me how he’s studying hard for his GED. His dream is to become a computer technician. I’m struck by his determination to overcome the challenges life has thrown at him. I’m challenged by his intent to make something of his life. I’m inspired by his courage.

As we part ways, I wish him success on his upcoming exams.

***

I pass a man selling Streetwise – a magazine that helps the homeless. We chat for a bit.

He tells me about the place he lives – a shelter nearby. He seems to like it there. It provides him protection from the cold and a bed to sleep in.

We talk about his family. He has kids that are grown and relatives out on the west coast. He speaks warmly of them all.

He mentions how lovely the weather is. The day is nice, and I agree with him completely.

His concerns are not so different than mine. He cares about having a place to live, family to love and to be loved by, and work to earn his meals with. He enjoys good weather. Our conversation reminds me that people are more alike than different.

I buy a magazine and continue on my way.

***

The poor have such powerful stories. They change me. They affect me.

Their stories expand my worldview, challenging my often too narrow perspectives on love, generosity, compassion, justice, and gratitude.

Their stories open my heart, pushing me to face the realities of pain and suffering. They call me to be someone who cares.

Their stories move me to act. They remind me of my responsibility as a storyteller to share them – to capture these portraits of untold humanity.

their untold stories
of strength and beauty untold
deserve to be told

Everyone has a story. Everyone has a story worth telling. Sadly, many of them go untold because the owner is too poor or too insignificant. What a waste.

Those stories are magnificent. They are of untold beauty, courage and strength. They are of untold humanity. And they are worthy of attention.

cast in the right light
what is thought ordinary
can be beautiful

People are more than a snapshot – more than stereotypes and assumptions. In telling their stories, I hope to capture their complexity. I want to give a glimpse into the wealth of experiences behind the way they act and see the world.

I also accept that I cannot tell everything. Even a full memoir is not enough to convey the complete story of a person. But I can offer a view into that story. I can give enough to show the essence of who they are – a portrait to speak to their value.

lift and raise them up
make other people matter
uphold dignity

Part of the Bright Army’s mission is making other people matter. I’ve spent time sharing my story, and I’ll continue to do so since it is the one I know best. But I also want to tell stories of the poor, of people I meet while traveling, and of you, my readers.

As I seek out people’s stories, I want to respect those who tell them. In listening to them, in paying attention to them – I desire to show that they are worth noticing. I hope to convey dignity and humanity.

***

uncertainty is
a signpost of worthiness
i see much of it

I must be honest with you. I am terrified by this endeavor. I question if I have the skills and knowledge necessary. I wonder where I will find the stories. I worry about taking advantage of the people whose stories I tell. I feel nervous talking to people outside of my comfort zone.

Yet these fears, although genuine, are a front for a deeper fear. They mask the real issue. The reason this effort scares me so much is because it is so important. I’m afraid because I care.

I’m willing to face my fears, but I’m going to need your help. Here are a few ways you can do that.

Engage the stories with me here on the Bright Army. Learn from them. Let them touch you. Join the conversation about them.

Help me tell those stories. Offer suggestions of people whose story I should tell.

Finally, seek out stories for yourself. Take time to listen. If you’re hesitant or unsure of where to start, begin by learning names. Names are one of the most powerful stories people have.

***

Glances cast as quickly taken snapshots
Judgements arranged and frozen into frame
Through the heartless lens of haves and have-nots
Without a care to even catch her name
Doesn’t matter if the background’s cluttered
Or if the foreground lighting is not good
For without a thought or comment uttered
It’s soon discarded and misunderstood
Oh to have a chance to show her value
To show there’s much beneath her tired face
To have one take the time to see what’s true
To catch the story of her strength and grace
All she wants is to be more than zero
And the chance to become someone’s hero

After telling me of her lost job, stolen possessions, and hidden shame, my new friend tells me something I’ll never forget.

“I just want to be treated as more than zero.”

To you, and the countless others that long for the same, I say this: You are worth far more than zero. And through your openness, seen in the brilliance of the stories you share with me, you have become my heroes.

###

PHOTO: Beautiful when cast in the right light. Kenya.