Category: The Healing Journey

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The I Don’t Know Project: Soccer

I don’t know how I can feel so good after a physically punishing loss. I watched my team play with all the heart in the world tonight. Down three goals at half time, no one was barking at each other. We knew the mistakes we had made, but we plotted a course to victory. We kept our heads up, found a deeper fight, and believed we could dig our way out of the deficit.

Mary helped me manage the team and knew the players. I’d come home and be able to share with her how proud I was of folks who had been playing longer than me as well as the gal who only took the sport up a few months ago. Mary protected my time for soccer, she knew better than I how important it was for me. She came to most games and always wanted to hear about the ones she missed.

It’s still the only place I can consistently get out of my own head. It holds a magic for me. I was blessed by my grandfather when he brought it into my life and I’ve been blessed by God with the ability to continually play and improve in the sport, while letting it improve me as a man.

God bless and thank you for reading,

Jason

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Totally Radical Dudes

When we were dating, Mary and I dreamed of a traditional, conservative life together. A life separate from the excesses, risk taking, and troublemaking of our how-did-we-survive(?) youths.

We planned a safe life, a modest family, and a secure marriage. Our sons undercut our plans, bringing a love into our lives that emboldened our true natures. I became the never-stay-at-home dad. We became homeschoolers, then unschoolers, joining the wildest ranks of a minority community.

I struck the match on many of those shifts, but Mary always took my hand and eased it toward the tinder to light the fire. She was a master fire builder.

Then she died.

At that moment, as she rose to Heaven, love poured down. That love was radical. I was filled with it and pointed out at adventure: a music festival, a road trip, museums, strangers, Shakespeare, and an RV in a ditch on a mountain in West Virginia. It took three months to start that trip, but it was immediate, inevitable, and unstoppable. I may have just as easily stepped through the hospital window into it. We picked up hitchhikers, danced atop rock faces, lost our gear, chased a full moon, and crossed paths with bears.

Mary chose a wild man to raise her children. I thought she had tamed me…mostly. She had done the opposite, cultivating and encouraging a confident independence aimed at loving myself, our sons, friends, family, and as many people as I could meet.

I’ve taken up that torch to simultaneously feed the flames of love and burn away the waste of fear.

I sat down tonight to share a memory of Mary, to make forgetting a little more difficult. I found a legacy that spans all the stories. It’s the narrative of a loving radical who knew she was unchaining three untamable beasts from fear to spread love in the world.

God bless and thank you for reading,

Jason

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Peace is Personal

I’ve been asked to facilitate the Peace Week Delaware & Fall Equinox Labyrinth Walk at Delaware Art Museum, 6:00-7:00pm tonight (https://www.delart.org/event/peace-week-delaware-fall-equinox-labyrinth-walk-2019/).

One year ago was the first time I had walked the Labyrinth on my own. More than discovered, I uncovered a personal peace in that place and in that day. I let living things inside me die and fall away. It became a conscious process of pruning that fall and winter, but on that day I let myself go and be guided by the Holy Spirit and a parade of wonderful souls.

(https://delawaredad.com/2018/09/23/seasonal-changes/)

I no longer long for those things that I have lost. They are harvested bounty, the fruits of a previous season. I don’t wish for peaches in the fall, but savor the sweet moments of summer.

I had a beautiful human holding a light for me through the darkness of fall and winter last year. I cherish the memories of that light and I have begun to hold it for myself.

So the Phoenix Cycle rolls on. The heat of late September burning away the last decorative plumes, turning me to ash to once again fertilize the ground and prepare for rebirth.

Please join me tonight for the chance to act out your own self-discovery journey.

God bless and thank you for reading,

Jason

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The Toilet Works?

For his entire life, my ten-year-old has watched me grumble and curse my way through innumerable toilet repairs, installations, and temporary rigs. When the arm snapped in the downstairs toilet tank this week, I had just conquered a devil of a drain clog and was not up for another job. I didn’t say anything to the boys, I lifted the lid and manually flushed when needed.

Then, I heard the toilet flush. Westen emerged from the bathroom and I said, “How’d you do that?” “Do what?” he replied. “Did you lift the lid? The toilet’s broken.” “Oh no, the flusher broke, so I rigged it this morning.”

He’s a little hero. He holds the door for everyone, grabs a child’s hand on unsteady rocks, entertains wherever he goes, and sees problems as opportunities. “Dad, what can we do to help?” might as well be his catch phrase.

When he’s not being a leader and not making a situation better and I call him out on it (usually too harshly), I see the disappointment and embarrassment on his face.

I criticize my sons too much. They’re beautiful, compassionate, mature beyond their years, brilliant, and endlessly creative. But not always, just like any of us.

Today we’re going to adventure and I’m going to concentrate on praising them aloud when it is called for and supporting them when it is needed and loving them through all of it.

God bless and thank you for reading,

Jason

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Letting Go Through Letter Writing

I was reintroduced to hand letter writing the day my wife died. A friend lost her grandmother and decades-long pen pal on the same day. I saw an opportunity to create and strengthen connections on a day when I had lost my greatest earthly bond.

I’ve written to dozens of people in the last year and noticed a strange pattern. I often forget what I’ve written. Strange because I take time with my writing and usually reread before sending. Natural in that I don’t make copies and rarely get responses to remind me of what I’ve sent into the world.

I know I release pain in the writing process, breaks for tears are common, but I didn’t know the power of addressing, stamping, and mailing the correspondence. It’s a ritual of sacrifice, honoring the source of hurt and dismissing it as no longer useful.

As a photographer, Alessandra Nicole documented our family at local events and museums. As a friend and TEDx speaker, she’s provided me with a way tools to connect with a world that can be resistant to a widower in its midst.

Please take a moment to watch her talk on paper letter exchange.

God bless and thank you for reading,

Jason

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The Adventure Comes Home To Roost

Two weeks ago I was presented with the idea of being on TV with my sons to build a tiny, off-grid house in Texas. Like a rising wave, it quickly grew into building a magical, off-grid dwelling in the Australian bush.

I dove in. My sons dove in. It felt right. We started watching shows, videos, and documentaries. I looked at available land, reached out to Australian relatives and home educators to start building a community ahead of the abode, and had serious conversations with smart people about making it happen.

The challenges got daunting, so I went public on FB to find support and give myself more pressure to make it happen. I truly believed I should do all I could to make this adventure a reality.

We got to the interview process and my sons did wonderfully. They pointed out to me that I repeatedly forgot the coaching and instructions of the casting producer, but I thought it went well.

News was slow to come after the interview and doubts and questions about the project arose. I wasn’t shy about going to Australia. In fact, I had promised the boys that we would go whether the show wanted us or not. Ultimately, it wasn’t the actual questions that moved my heart, but that many answers would depend entirely on other people. Since I lost my wife, my greatest joy and burden has been answering questions and going on adventures (and doing most other things) as a single parent. The boys get a lot of say, but there’s no doubt that responsibility, blame, and credit all come back to me.

I wasn’t ready to relinquish my instincts to someone else’s priorities. I started secretly hoping the opportunity wouldn’t materialize, that I wouldn’t have to carry the burden this time.

During my late nights of research and worry, I started dreaming about my heart lying deep under reality, as if I had forgotten about it. This morning I woke with anxiety and determined to spend time in prayer to let the answer in to wash away my cluttered thoughts. I planned to go to a yoga class to clear my mind and then visit Mary’s resting place. I wasn’t going to get through another day without clarity.

The intention was enough. Before I got out my front door I had my answer. We adventure every day, these two weeks made those possibilities broader and grander, and I’ve got my own deep well of trails to blaze. My heart thanked me for listening and my body got lighter.

I don’t feel good about letting down the casting producer. Diona Vaughan of Aberrant Creative was amazingly supportive and I believe she was fighting for us to be a part of this project. She was sweet to me and the boys about Mary and shepherding rookies through the process. Letting her down was the last, and possibly hardest, hurdle for me to cross to decide not to move forward.

I do feel good about the world map still lain out on the floor. We actively look at the world as a set of seemingly limitless opportunities. In spite of this adventure not taking flight, our sights are set higher and our world has gotten a bigger.

God bless and thank you for reading,

Jason

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Love Yourself As You Love Others

These guidelines ring true for the self just as much as they are good guidance on treating others with respect and love.

We’ll stand up and advocate for others before we protect our boundaries, love others before we love ourselves, and take better care of others than we will ourselves.

The more you love and protect yourself, the better equipped you will be to love and protect others.

God bless and thank you for reading,

Jason

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Mary Met Us In A Song Today

Music was our strongest common thread before parenthood. We introduced and reintroduced our favorites to each other and discovered hundreds of new acts together.

There’s hardly a song I hear that won’t tug on that thread.

She would call me an absolute goof for how much I liked Queens’ “Princes of the Universe,” but I rocked it out with my sons in the car today, windows down, heads banging away, and the volume up high enough for Heaven to hear.

Then I thought about how empowering the lyrics are for my sons. In a world that seems to either forget us or fight us, this is the kind of message I want for my boys.

Princes of the Universe

Here we are, born to be kings

We’re the princes of the universe

Here we belong, fighting to survive

In a world with the darkest powers

Heh

And here we are, we’re the princes of the universe

Here we belong, fighting for survival

We’ve come to be the rulers of you all

I am immortal, I have inside me blood of kings, yeah, yeah

I have no rival, no man can be my equal

Take me to the future of you all

Born to be kings, princes of the universe

Fighting and free

Got your world in my hand

I’m here for your love and I’ll make my stand

We were born to be princes of the universe

No man could understand

My power is in my own hand

Ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh, people talk about you

People say you’ve had your day

I’m a man that will go far

Fly the moon and reach for the stars

With my sword and head held high

Got to pass the test first time, yeah

I know that people talk about me, I hear it every day

But I can prove them wrong ’cause I’m right first time

Yeah, yeah

Alright, let’s go, let’s go, ha ha

Yeah, watch this man fly, wooh

Bring on the girls, c’mon, c’mon, c’mon

Here we are (here we are)

Born to be kings, we’re the princes of the universe

Here we belong

Born to be kings, princes of the universe

Fighting and free, got your world in my hand

I’m here for your love and I’ll make my stand

We were born to be princes of the universe (universe, universe, universe)

-Queen

God bless and thank you for reading,

Jason

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I Can’t Have a Normal Conversation

To the person I just met:

I don’t want to talk about my dead wife today, or at least not right now. We’re talking about RVs, archery, home education, cookie dough, and all these interesting places and things that you know and I don’t. I’m enjoying this moment and don’t want to hijack another conversation with my story.

I’m sorry if I’m not being as truthful as I want to be. I told it all over lunch yesterday and I’m not up for it again.

God bless and thank you for reading,

Jason

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Little Deaths

Little deaths are chasing me around, from the above section in A Beginner’s Guide to the End to a Jordan Peterson quote from 12 Rules for Life, “Every bit of learning is a little death.”

I have also come to learn about the little death that is divorce. Everyone is smiling in their wedding photos, everyone is in love on that day, and everyone thinks it will last forever. No one predicts that they’ll share a few good years, have children they love dearly, then collapse out of love and into misery.

Out of that misery, new and stronger fulfillment can be found. It is a path that must be chosen. All deaths can be made little if you choose to find freedom and adventure in the circumstances of the day that God has given you. If you’re awake, if you’re alive, then every death is little, you have already survived them all.

Iggy Pop is releasing a new album about freedom. It’s not about the misery of being old and losing all his friends, it’s about being free.

Iggy Pop is alive and creating, you have no excuse not to do the same.

God bless and thank you for reading,

Jason