Life

Is winning at all costs still winning?

in ,

​What a sad day for sports. After years of suspicion, accusations, and denial, George Hincapie, one of the most respected figures in modern cycling, has admitted to doping. I'll leave the obvious conclusions alone, other than to say if Hincapie -- a man by all accounts to have incredible integrity, compassion, and courage -- has confessed to doping than it is hard to believe that others have not. As he wrote,  "Early in my professional career, it became clear to me that, given the widespread use of performance enhancing drugs by cyclists at the top of the profession, it was not possible to compete at the highest level without them."

We all do things we regret, and so I give Hincapie and the many others releasing statements today a lot of credit for having the courage to admit they did something wrong. At the same time, there were many others we'll never hear from who were robbed of a chance to compete because of the ambition of others. My heart goes out to those athletes whose integrity and love for the sport was greater than their desire to win at all costs.

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My not-about-9/11 9/11 post.

in ,

My big guy Danny turned four today.Well, I wasn’t going to go here. I guess I’m not sure I have anything to say. Or maybe, I was just bracing for what everyone else would say. I’ve written before about the 9/11 attacks, and those words are powerful and fierce for me, because I wrote them in the hours and days after everything went to hell. So maybe I should just leave it at that.

But here’s the thing. Today is my son’s fourth birthday. And I’m not going to say I didn’t think today about 9/11, because I did; and I’m not going to say that those thoughts didn’t make me sad for the loss, and angry about what happened, and vengeful for justice, and wistful for the spirit of commraderie we as Americans had in the aftermath, and confused about where that spirit seems to have gone. I wonder about all of those things, not just today but every day.

And yet, my biggest emotions throughout the day were gratitude for my son and wonderment at his amazing, joyful self. And the fact that I had those feelings today, and could enjoy them, means that at least for me the test results from 9/11 are starting to come in, and you know what? We passed. We frigging passed. We may not have scored 100%, but listen up America — good work, well taken. We took a graduate class in Hardship and we got most of the questions right. We have some things to brush up on for the next course but by and large, we passed. 

Here’s to the fallen heroes and to the ones living among us now and every day, including you, and God willing, including me. Let’s make it all worth it. No use crying over what we got wrong, because it’s over. We passed exams and that means it’s on to the next class. If we can do this then the economy and the environment and education and everything else is a piece of cake. Bring it. 

And finally, Danny: This one’s for you.

A brief soapbox about freedom and spirituality. Feel free to tune it out.

in ,

For several years I’ve listed my “Religious Views” on Facebook as “Appreciate and wonder at the beauty all around us.” I have more precise views than that, but that’s basically what it boils down to for me. And since I believe there are a lot of different doorways into the same room, I haven’t felt the need to be any more specific. Surely there’s common ground for us somewhere, right?

Similarly, I’ve listed my “Political Views” as “Teach responsibility and then trust people.” I’ve got other axes to grind, and certain issues and candidates hold my attention more than others, but that phrase sums it up.

But oh my! If it were only that easy! This morning as I look at the news and the commentary surrounding it, I’m reading a lot of concern about recent events in North Carolina and Colorado, and on the other side of the coin, a lot of passionate justification for it. 

My own feeling is that the biggest obstacle to a better world isn’t evil — it’s apathy. It is in that spirit I write the following.

I’ve been on a spiritual journey for quite some time. My 40 days in the desert have lasted a lot longer than I thought they would, and have encountered some setbacks and wrong turns. Perhaps the best way to say it is that sometimes life events (like this and this) obscure your view at first, only to provide clarity later. Some of the experiences that have been the most confusing to me have later become the most enlightening.

And so, I feel like I’m close to reaching a spiritual destination. My journey hasn’t been a specifically religious one, but in the context of spirituality, one eventually decides to at least explore that avenue. As my dad liked to say, “Organized religion is the only kind.” True enough. Thus I’ve spent quite a bit of time lately exploring the connection between religion and spirituality, and what it means for me.

In that exploration, I’ve found a lot that has resonated with me. More than I thought I would, to be honest. And by the same token, I can’t find one single thing that justifies, in a moral sense, the authority of one group to subjugate another’s ability to let their hearts decide whom they love and how they do it. And I certainly don’t believe for one second that any group has the political authority to do it either. In terms of the hierarchy of things, I believe God works for good, and vice versa. And I believe the government works for us. 

We become quickly spoiled by what we have worked for, particularly when others do the work. That brand-new HDTV you waited a year to afford looks gorgeous when you first set it in the living room. Six months later, you can’t remember what you were so impressed with. And if you get the TV as a gift? Two months.

But we must resist that same complacency when it comes to issues of justice. It is all too easy to forget that less than 200 years ago, humans were bought and sold; objectified, manipulated, dehumanized. It is all too easy to dismiss that less than 100 years ago, women were not permitted to vote because others felt anatomy somehow dictated superiority. Less than 60 years ago, a whole generation of Jews was nearly wiped off the earth forever. And for those thinking “But that won’t happen anymore,” I direct you to exhibit A, Rwanda, and exhibit B, Kosovo. Which happened … in our lifetime.

Equality is not HDTV. It doesn’t have a shelf life. And it isn’t a product meant to be accessible only to those who can afford it, or who can mobilize enough resources to argue on behalf of it. 

From what I can see, the right to love and be loved is as fundamental as it gets. It transcends the will of any one political entity and any one religious dogma, and comes, in its entirety, from the Spirit that has breathed us all into existence. 

For values to be real, whether political or spiritual, they must apply to everyone. Otherwise you don’t have values — you have a members-only club. Freedom, love, justice, and equality do not require an application. 

In 40 years, our children will look back and wonder what all the fuss was all about; and hopefully, they will shake their heads at our ignorance, and hide their shock at our bigotry, the way we do when we consider slavery and genocide. 

But between now and then, you have to live with yourself. Are your “shared values” meant for you alone? Shouldn’t you share them with everyone?

When I read “God is love,” I don’t see an asterisk next to it. 

An Easter thought for you.

in ,

Whether or not Easter is part of your spiritual tradition, it is part of mine — and so it is without expectation and with a full heart that I say, Happy Easter to you all. I’m wishing you a personal rebirth today in whatever form is most meaningful for you.

In particular, I’m wishing you a few moments of reflection and realization that your role is critical and unique; that it is never too late to influence our shared future, because that future always lies in front of us; and that despite our indulgence for cynicism and self-defeat, a better world is solidly within our grasp.

May today be the bud of at least one of those blossoms for you.

Spring perspective.

in

Spring has knocked on our door early in the morning and louder than usual, pounding with insistence. Get up - get up - get up. We tumble out of bed and grab our slippers and try to piece together what Nature is saying to us. We’re slow to wake but eventually grasp that it is time to put on the coffee and come outside.

I walk to the concrete wall. There’s a vine and a flower, persistent and patient. “It’s a weed,” someone says. “It will grow and grow and you won’t be able to stop it.”

I look at the blue against the brown. It reminds me of growing up, of licking popsicles while barefoot on the grass, of soft words from parents on warm mornings. If all things like Spring would grow and grow with patient persistence, what a rich world we would make. An emboldening thought, the best bud of the new season.

“It’s beautiful,” I say.

Suspending Skepticism: Ignoring Your Inner Ragdoll

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Could it be that the biggest part of learning optimism is just figuring out how to suspend skepticism? Is it that simple?

Suspending skepticism seems like an easy thing — a trite comment, really — but I’ve learned that skepticism is so ingrained in most of us that laying it aside is more difficult than we first imagine. From the first time we hear “You’re too big for that chair!” or “Be careful up there!” or the really insidious “Don’t get your hopes up!”, we start assembling a picture of the world that features a tiny ragdoll at the center (that’s us) surrounded by assorted threats, hazards, and disappointments (everything we think, dream, and wonder about).

I’ve become quite a Disney World supporter over the last few days. I’ve written about the superb customer service, the powerful combination of business and artistic vision, and more than anything, the great experience my kids have had at the various parks. But to be honest, I know enough about Disney that I kind of expected all of those things. I expected to see a fun environment produced by a well-run organization.

What I didn’t expect was the impact that Disney would have on me. I’d find myself passing by a ride or theater or walkway. “Nothing too exciting is back there,” my ragdoll voice would say. And I’d start to walk by when invariably a little child’s hand would grab mine and say, “C’mon Dad — puulllleaaaase?”

The first time I sort of rolled my eyes, re-oriented the stroller, and grudgingly followed. “Okay…” I said, which as everyone knows is Dad Code for “I already know that this is a stupendous waste of time, and soon you will learn that too, and then you will understand my incredible power of divination and will listen to me next time.”

But here’s the thing. It was never a waste of time. The concert with Mickey Mouse, the a cappella American folk singers, the 360-degree movie about China — everything was just, well, surprisingly delightful. Just really wonderful.

And what I noticed is that by the second day I stopped using Dad Code with the kids. “Let’s go!” I’d say. “I bet this is really cool!” And by the third day I stopped listening to my own ragdoll. Frankly, I’m not sure I even would have noticed that until yesterday, when we had three people feeling sick and run-down but had to travel home anyway. I heard the rag doll say “This will be awful. This will be a long and horrible day.” But I heard myself say, “We can do this.” And you know what? All things considered, eight hours of travel with six people went flawlessly.

In my book, the greatest thing about Disney World is that it got me to throw my skepticism into the recycling bin. I stopped looking at doors and saying, “There’s nothing interesting in there.” I stopped looking at people and saying, “They are opposed to me.” And I stopped looking in the mirror and saying, “I need to protect the ragdoll.” Instead I started actively walking towards each walkway, filled with excitement about what was coming next.

How effective would I be if I greeted every single encounter of every single day with that optimism and confidence? If we all did?

This is the biggest memory I hope to keep from Disney World. It could be powerful.