Do You Wu Wei?

Call it Wu Wei or going with the “flow”, or just slowing down, or whatever you want, it apparently is a very good thing.

While I have been to Italy and a few other stops along the Mediterranean, I wouldn’t say I know much about living like a Mediterranean-ite, but I’m trying to learn. I’ve read the diet books because there is no doubt that it is a better way to eat. Not only am I not a Mediterranean, I am also not a dietician or nutritionist, but I do know this, for a few years now I’ve been eating closer to the Mediterranean Diet and I feel much better for it.

But it turns out it’s not just their diet we should adopt, but the way they eat too: slower, and with people we like, taking time to enjoy every bite, appreciating the nuances of flavor and texture, with conversation that leads to gratitude and laughter and joy instead of alienating and pissing people off.

If more of us valued food and cheer and song above hoarded gold, it would be a merrier world.
— J.R.R. Tolkien

As I mentioned a few posts back, I have a new turntable and a rediscovered appreciation for playing music on vinyl long-play records.

Here’s the deal, there is a process to it, kind of like Mediterranean eating: First you look through the albums and make a selection. You remove the inner sleeve from the cover, and then the record from that. You place it on the platter and turn it on. Then you gently lift the tone arm and place the needle on the smooth outer margin of the record. Now you listen as you watch the platter spin. The process requires you to slow down, to pay more attention, to engage more with the music. Probably there are photos and great artwork on the album cover and maybe the lyrics to the songs are printed on the sleeve. It’s all very real. And the sound… Oh, the sound. You can almost see the musicians playing. If you are young and have only heard digital music, I invite you to come over for a listen. Seriously.

Imagine sitting with headphones on and listening to Simon & Garfunkel sing this:

Slow down, you move too fast
You got to make the morning last
Just kicking down the cobblestones
Looking for fun and feelin’ groovy
Ba da da da da da da, feelin’ groovy
Hello, lamppost, what’cha knowin’?
I’ve come to watch your flowers growin’
Ain’t’cha got no rhymes for me?
Doot-in doo-doo, feelin’ groovy
Ba da da da da da da, feelin’ groovy
I got no deeds to do
No promises to keep
I’m dappled and drowsy and ready to sleep
Let the morning time drop all its petals on me
Life, I love you
All is groovy

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying I think I can live in this state, in the groove so to speak. But it beats “the rut”, right? We can slow down, pay more attention, listen more carefully, see more clearly. Think back, and remember if you can, what child-like wonder was like. 

Remember, for example, the first time you “fell in love”? Like water in a stream, you go with the flow, you’re just sort of carried along. My first love was doomed from the start though. The girl of my dreams had another.

Maybe Elvis was right about what wise men say—that only fools rush in. And the Drifters too, when they sang:

Well, fools fall in love in a hurry
Fools give their hearts much too soon
Just play them two bars of Stardust
Just hang out one silly moon, oh, oh

Image by Cerith Wyn Evans

Image by Cerith Wyn Evans

Speaking of playing two bars of Stardust, here’s an experiment for slowing down to see if you can experience Wu Wei. You’ll need a good version of Stardust to listen to. I recommend Willie Nelson’s version, but Nat King Cole’s is the classic. You can get either on iTunes for a buck-twenty-five. Also have a cup of really good coffee or beverage of your choice.

The Willie Nelson version is nearly four minutes long. Take those four minutes to listen and savour, blocking out everything else. Be careful though—you might fall in love (again). Just go with the flow.

Young lovers see a vision of the world redeemed by love. That is the truest thing they ever see, for without it life is death.
— Wendell Berry from Jayber Crow

Fore Friends

I'M GOING TO ASK YOU TO TAKE A BIG LEAP!

The leap is from an episode of Seinfeld (one of his best comedic bits, in my well-tuned opinion) to a self-analysis on friendship.

In this bit Jerry and Elaine are at the counter of a car rental company, “Worthy Rent-A-Car.” Jerry finds out from the attendant that while he made a “reservation” for a car, they do not in fact have a car for him. He then explains their problem: they know how to TAKE the reservation, they just don’t know how to HOLD the reservation. Here’s a link to the clip on Youtube. Watch and enjoy.

SEINFELD ON HOLDING THE RESERVATION

Now for the leap—Get ready, set, JUMP…

I’m very envious of people who can not only MAKE friends, but they can also HOLD the friendship so to speak. Maybe you’re one of those who has friends from childhood or college. I don’t. I’m not whining about it, but I do wonder why some people seem to have lots of real friends (as opposed to the category of friends we’ll call Facebook Friends).

Don’t get me wrong, or assume I’m completely misanthropic and narcissitic. Maybe it just that I live with someone who sets a very high bar when it comes to having strong, beautiful, enduring friendships.

It’s not that I don’t have some friendships like that (you both know who you are). I blame it on introversion. I Googled “introverts and friendship”. I found lots of things like “5 Keys to this,” and “3 Steps to that.” All of it had to do with getting out of your shell and MAKING new friends. There was a common theme though: “Try harder”; basically. 

I love to play tennis, and I used to play at least a couple of times a week. You would think I would have been close friends with my tennis partner, but my partner was a ball machine, that just mindlessly, and relentlessly shot balls at me. It always won, so I broke the relationship off.

Guys, especially among us “men of a certain age,” seem to prefer golf. So I’m going to give that a try. So far, my play has all been on a driving range by myself.

Lawdy, Lawdy, I’m having a pity party. But I’m not in despair. Just saying, that if you don’t mind playing golf with someone who might throw clubs and say bad words, give me a call. But, if it doesn’t blossom into friendship, know this: it’s me, not you. 

Perfect Attendance Lessons

It’s been awhile since I’ve put up a post here at About POPS. My promise to myself when I started this blog was that no more than a week would pass without a post. I have no excuses but this:

artifact_78.jpg

Do you ever have those moments when your commitment, or at least your good intentions break down, and you think, “What the heck, I’ve blown it now, so what does it matter.” You know like those times when you’re faithfully following your disciplined eating lifestyle, then you get invited to the all-you-can-eat-fried-catfish-with-hushpuppy place. “I’ll just have a salad,” you say to yourself on the way there. Then after your second plate of fried amazingness, you’ve passed the point of what-does-it-matter-now. So you stop at Dairy Princess on the way home for a chocolate dipped cone with nuts.

There’s a larger lesson for me here. I’m not trying to moralize all of this, hinting that there may be a lesson for you too. Just saying that for me…

When I was a kid, we went to Sunday School. Every Sunday. I don’t remember how old I was, but I remember it like it was yesterday: getting my copper-colored Three-Month Perfect Attendace pin. I was now a decorated little Sunday School soldier, with my eye on that silver Six-Month pin, learning not to hide my little light under a bushel (hold cupped hand over the raised index finger of the other hand, then rapidly move it).

Another six months pass. During a ceremony in the Sunday morning worship service I was awarded with my "gold" One-Year pin. The next level for us little Sunbeams was more lofty: the Two-Year Wreath that would encircle our One-Year pen.

Sometime during that second year I contracted measels or mumps or malaria, I don’t remember which. My perfect-attendance track ended. When it comes to pursuit of perfect attendance pins in the Baptist Church there may be “Amazing Grace” but there are no “excused absences.”

I probably had thoughts like, “What difference does it make now if I go to Sunday School or not?” That square on the Perfect Attendance Chart with no gold star haunted me and there was nothing I could do about it. But there were other; let’s call them motivations, to continue attending.

I’m reminded of a passage from a really good old movie called, “Kitty Foyle.” It goes like this:

Tom Foyle: From now on, you’re going to Sunday School every Sunday. Rain or shine, you’re going.
Kitty Foyle: But why, Pop?
Tom Foyle: Well, it’ll be giving you a little Christian upbringing. A sense of values.
Kitty Foyle: Oh. And then you mean I won’t ever sin or anything.
Tom Foyle: Well, it might not keep you from sinning, but by Judas Priest, it’ll keep you from getting any fun out of it.

So while there will be a few blank weeks on my Perfect Blog Post Writing Chart, know this:

I’m back baby.

BTW: the image of the little Sunday School family is from a poster project done by our oldest son, Corey. You can see the project HERE. This particular poster is called: Abby | Artifact 78 of 366 | June 10, 2011

In a book about the project, Corey writes: “I work in the church nursery from time to time and found this young family among the toys. Church toys have a pretty cushy job since they only work one day a week.”

Easy As ABC? Sometimes.

You went to school to learn girl
Things you never, never knew before
Like "I" before "E" except after "C"
And why 2 plus 2 makes 4
Now, now, now
I'm gonna teach you
Teach you, teach you
All about love girl
All about love
Sit yourself down, take a seat
All you gotta do is repeat after me

That’s right. Today’s blog post is a lesson from Old Pops, The Love Professor. For those that know their Jackson 5 lore you’ll recognize that the lyrics above are from their song “ABC”. The song continues:

Reading, writing, arithmatic
Are the branches of the learning tree
But without the roots of love everyday girl
Your education ain't complete
Tea-Tea-Teacher's gonna show you
(She's gonna show you)
How to get an "A" (na-na-na-naaaaaa)
How to spell "me", "you", add the two
Listen to me, baby
That's all you got to do

A B C
It's easy as, 1 2 3
As simple as, do re mi
A B C, 1 2 3
Baby, you and me girl

This cute little number debuted in 1970 on American Bandstand. I was a freshman in college and had no intention of taking advice on Love from an 11 year-old kid. Looking back on Michael’s answer to Love, I still don’t like his solution.

Valentine’s Day looms. Last February, I did a series of posts with unsolicited advice for guys on how to make the most of the opportunity. This year, I already The Gift taken care of, so I’m just waxing philosophical about Love.

Several years ago I read an essay on “systems”. I wish I had made a copy of it or could remember who wrote it so I could give credit, but I don’t. Basically the author’s point was that we have reduced everything to a system.

In our own bodies we have systems: the nervous system, the circulatory system, the digestive system, etc. In society we have systems: legal systems, political systems, economic systems. Even our cars have systems: the fuel system, the braking system, the electrical system, and so on.

Here’s the thing about systems, when they work they’re wonderful. I’m using a system of ones and zeros, computers, wireless signals, servers, etc. to write and share this blog with the masses. It’s mind boggling to think that anyone around the world could read this if they are in the System.

Another thing about systems, sometimes they break… We have things like the postal system and the healthcare system. The thing about systems is when they do break, we can just blame the system and no one gets hurt. “Who is to blame for these problems?!” “No one really, the system failied.” Do you ever get the feeling that sometimes we create systems so we’ll have something to blame and no one is really accountable?

I’ll be conducting another wedding this Spring. Very soon now I will meet with the beautiful young couple for some “pre-marital counseling.” I hope they are not reading this because I’m going to confess that I don’t have all the answers to Love.

I am pretty sure though that I know a lot more about it than Michael Jackson did at eleven (God rest his soul). I do know that it cannot be reduced to system or a formula like ABCs and 123s.

Several years ago our marriage survived a conference we attended on how to have a successful marriage. I say “survived” because looking back, it was a system some guy had put together. He discovered he could take his show on the road and people would pay money to get the “keys” to marital bliss. And, also a coupon  for the advanced seminar where you got even more secret stuff.

Maybe I shouldn’t be too quick to judge, because actually me and My Amazing-Missus were marriage school dropouts. We ditched the last few sessions and did some Christmas shopping for our boys.

It may sound like I’m taking our 42 years of marriage for granted. I’m not, really I’m not. Nor am I saying I haven’t learned anything. I think I will tell this young couple that there are no magic formulas; there’s not a system. Sometimes it as easy as A-B-C or 1-2-3, sometimes its as complicated as H-E-L-L. Just ask my wife. I will tell them that Love is just the opposite of systematic. It is organic, it is natural, it is beautiful and it is eteneral.

Valentine's Day will be the 43rd anniversary of the day I proposed to My Amazing-Missus. I would do it again in a heart beat. I can only hope she would say, YES! But I would settle for a, “What the heck.”