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Your imagination is a preview of life’s coming attractions.

– Albert Einstein

 Oh to have the imagination of a child!  Remember those days when you would imagine yourself as a policeman, fireman, doctor, nurse, truck driver or teacher, playing football, performing in a ballet, baking cookies or hosting a tea party?  Maybe you’ve watched your children or grandchildren play out similar fantasies.  When I was six or seven years old, post World War II, my buddies and I would play army.  We were soldiers, GI Joes, fighting the Big War with toy rifles, rubber bayonets, and even some relics our daddies and uncles brought back from the war like a small backpack, ammo belt, or canteen.  Hiding behind hay bales we would lob dirt clods as if they were grenades at a pretend enemy.  It was great fun playing those make-believe games imitating what we perceived the grown-up world to be like, experimenting with it, and envisioning in a way our own lives as adults.  I don’t know this for a fact, but I suspect most child development specialists concur that having an active imagination is a critical component in the growth and development of a child. 

 Too often, though, we adults get so caught up in the day-to-day serious matters of making a living, tending to our families and jobs, pursuing our careers, that we lose our sense of imagination dismissing it as child’s play or an escape from reality.  Yet, if an active imagination is critical in the development of a child, why is it not so for adults as well?  Could it be, in fact, that the imagination is not an escape from reality but the gateway to it?  Can you think of a single invention, innovation, advancement in technology, work or art, progress or achievement of any kind that did not first originate in someone’s imagination?

 This occurred to me a few years ago when I founded my coaching business and why I named it Beyond Imagination – that just beyond what first originates in the imagination is the reality of an invention or innovation, of advancements and higher levels of achievement.  Like children’s make-believe the adult imagination is a critical component of growth, development, and progress in our lives and in the world.  As Einstein said, “Your imagination is a preview of life’s coming attractions.”  Oh to have the imagination of a child!

“. . . a lifetime’s not too long to live as friends.”

Michael W. Smith

One of the resolutions Tee and I made to ourselves this year is to clear out some of the clutter we have around our house from closets, bookshelves, kitchen cabinets, and the garage.  The fact is we have too much stuff and we have reached a place in our lives where we don’t “need” any more.  Occasionally there are things that must be replaced, the shirts in my closet as an example may wear out, but I really don’t need to add any more to my collection.  Besides that we just don’t seem to be as attached to things as we once were, they don’t mean as much as they once did.  Simplicity rules our lifestyle these days much more than accumulation. 

This ancient truth has been taught throughout the ages that worldly goods never satisfy.  They only take up space and cause us to worry in that they might be taken away, stolen, or destroyed.  Worse, they distract us from what is most important and cannot be taken away, stolen or destroyed – our relationships.  Relationship with another human being is the most valuable earthly possession any of us will ever have.  Friends are people we care for deeply and who care for us.  Friends trust one another, listen to one another, defend one another, share similar values, common interests and goals.  With friends we are able to speak freely, listen openly, laugh, cry, and be authentic.  Friends are steadfast and present. 

Over time the attachment we have for our things has waned, it’s become clutter; but the relationships we have with our friends keep growing deeper.  Friends are our travel companions through life, with whom we share our experiences.  Maybe that’s why Tee and I decided to clear out some of the clutter we have around the house so not to be distracted by what is most important – our relationships.  We have been blessed with an abundance of friends.  And just as we learn from that ancient truth that worldly goods never satisfy . . . we also realize more and more that “a lifetime’s not too long to live as friends.”  

January 26, 2009

Jack entered our lives suddenly as if out of nowhere. At the time our daughter-in-law Sharra had been in labor for several hours. It was getting late and she was tired, as we all were, and perhaps a little anxious and discouraged that the baby had not yet come. Then Jack came in the room and everything changed. If we had met him under any other circumstance I would have suspected that he was retired and living in some small East Texas village spending most of his time bass fishing on a nearby lake. Instead he was dressed in scrubs scurrying around our daughter-in-law’s hospital room preparing her to give birth. Jack was probably sixty-something years old and a bit over-weight, but confident about his tasks as if he had done it a thousand times. Something about his presence made our weariness and anxiety disappear, his gentleness and compassion expressed through his country accent and folksy humor. Jack was one of those people whose personality sort of permeated the room and made us all feel as if everything would be all right.Jack’s profession was as a registered nurse anesthetist, a CRNA whose job was to administer the anesthesia, and it was obvious the doctors had great confidence in his abilities. But more than his abilities he showed great care and concern for his patient, and when Sharra was finally wheeled away to the delivery room Jack remained right by her side chatting words of encouragement. It would be only a few minutes later that our beautiful baby granddaughter, Zoey, would enter the world. But there was concern. Her breathing was weak, her lungs not working as well as they should. You can imagine the panic that overcame the infant’s parents, Sharra and Cecil, as the medical team whisked their new-born, only minutes old, away to ICU. Except there was Jack – who sat at Sharra’s side holding her hand, stroking her long red hair, whispering to her, assuring her that her baby was fine, that everything would be okay, as if he had seen this sort of thing a thousand times . . . and he knew.

He was right, of course. Within a few short hours sweet little Zoey was out of ICU healthy and normal as can be, lungs at full capacity. That was eight months ago. What a blessing! Yet, as suddenly as he had entered our lives that evening Jack vanished into the night. We never saw him again. Perhaps his shift was over and he went home or moved on to another patient in need of his medical skills, to be comforted by his gentleness and compassion, his country accent and folksy humor. Or maybe he headed out to some lake in East Texas to do a little bass fishing. He seemed like that type. But for our family that evening Jack was an angel. They do exist you know.
January 19, 2009

My wife, Tee, is a master pie maker.  Among our family and close friends her pies are considered delicacies; and more than that they are works of art.  Her secret, you see, is not in the recipes, for she’s most happy to share them with anyone who asks.  The secret, rather, is in her magic touch.  As you know the foundation of any good pie is the crust and making a good pie crust requires much more skill than simply blending together the correct portions of ingredients and rolling it out.  It requires having a sense of when the dough feels right, has enough or too little moisture, its elasticity, how it looks.  The outcome of the dough is connected to other factors such as the amount of humidity in the air and the temperature of the room when it is being prepared.  Tee is sensitive to all those things making subtle adjustments that cannot be explained.  Yet her pie crusts are always perfect – works of art.

It was in her mother’s kitchen that Tee developed this extraordinary gift, although I don’t think her mother ever gave her an official lesson in pie making.  Rather they used to just hang out together in the kitchen as mother and daughter, visiting, spending time together – connecting with each other.  It was there I’m quite sure that Tee probably picked up on certain subtleties about mother that can never be explained in words.  Those subtleties are what made Tee’s mother’s pies unique, they are what made her mother unique, they are what make Tee and her pies unique.  And it was that precious time in the kitchen that keeps Tee forever connected with her mother.

We forget sometimes how closely we are connected to others and how important it is to be connected.  It is more than just our blood relatives to which we are connected, but also to one another.  We are connected to the past, to those who lived before us by what they left behind, by the lessons they taught, the good they did, and even the mistakes they made.  We are connected by their stories and their character.  We are connected in the present by our common lives, our communities, neighborhoods, and workplaces.  And we are connected to the future by those things we create, how we live, and the impact and influence we have on others.

That is why being served a slice of Tee’s pie is such a special privilege.  Besides being delicious, it connects us to her and who she is.  Her magic touch in the making of the pie crust reveals part of her character, as well as connecting us to her mother and her character.  And someday it may connect our grandchildren to their grandmother in a unique way.  More importantly neither Tee nor her mother ever baked a pie for their own consumption.  It has always been for someone else, as a means for staying connected.  And ultimately that’s the real secret, the magic touch that makes them perfect – that makes them works of art.