I love this...

This image from my journal entry while teaching photography at University of West Bohemia was about the food, and how it reminds me of the tastiness of my mom's Polish-influenced cooking. But I also like the highlighted phrase. I go to it often because it could be about old friends or new ones; photography, writing, or speaking; any of my sons or my granddaughter...life. I look at this as a reminder. I hope it reminds you.

Ignore Your Self at your own peril

I sit here, Maker's Mark on the rocks on the desk, and Johnny Cash's "Hurt" playing, and I consider many things, not the least of which is my oldest son's finding his voice in his blog, my middle son's finding himself in his work and adventures, and my youngest finding himself (and his Self) at the doorway to manhood. I consider this collision of realities and inhibition busters and remember why it was that God gives me breath. It is not to be a paper pusher.

I've been listening to Johnny Cash, Tom Rush, Arlo Guthrie and Harry Chapin over the past hour as I scanned my book draft about being a father and a son. The strange brew, or stew, of the influences inspires me, or reminds me.

It reminds me; my sons remind me; the artists remind me; my frustrations remind me: Ignore Your Self at your own peril.

May I pour you a drink and we'll talk?

I shared stories with a group of people at a meeting today. The meeting was about work, and the stories about the boys, about lyrics and about parenting. Only then was I alive today.

Ignore Your Self at your own peril.

Rewards

REWARDS

No matter what type of drought one experiences, there will be the rewards of a harvest and plenty for those who persist.

It has been an embarrassingly long run of fishing since I have caught a reasonable number or a reasonable sized fish on excursions alone or with one of my sons. Except for a guided trip last year in which all four of us caught a number of sharks, it has been slim pickings for the past six to seven years for me. Even my youngest son said a few months ago, in a gesture of support, "Dad, I don't know if I could continue fishing as persistently as you do if I had gone so long without a good outing." He catches large bass regularly from creeks in the Friendswood area where he lives. His statement was a left-handed compliment, and he meant well by it. Of course, he is one of the reasons I persist. Our fishing time together yields stories and memories we'll pass along for decades.

About two months ago, we bought a small inflatable boat and six horsepower motor for getting out quickly, easily and quietly. This sturdy little combination has already given us the chance to tool around area waters in search of alligator gar, alligators, fish and discovery. This weekend we decided to try launching from the shore in Freeport and then motor out far enough to possibly encounter shark, trout, redfish or other interesting fish. A month ago, my youngest and one of his brothers talked about me breaking my fishing doldrums with an "old man and the sea" sort of experience. Clearly their message had a dual meaning.

We headed into the short waves about 9:30 Saturday morning and by 9:45 we were watching dolphins surface nearby, birds feeding, baitfish darting and swirls enticing us. From our position, essentially at the water's surface, we experienced fish feeding frenzies in which shark and other aggressive feeders tear into schools of baitfish while birds dive in from above to join the feast. It was quite an experience to be so close to such activity.

One such frenzy occurred quite close to us, boiling up as my bait was landing into the water. Moments later a fish and I were connected, and it peeled line off my heavy surfcasting reel as I watched. My son pulled in our makeshift anchor and, while the fish pulled us around, he started the motor and soon we were in pursuit of the fish. It zigged and zagged, catching up in the line of a woman fishing in a boat nearby and cutting her line. Soon, her leader was knotted on the end of my rod. My "guide" loosened it enough for the fight to continue. I called out to our neighbor, "We'll bring your leader back when we're done!" We also joked about being pulled to Cuba. "Old man and the sea" thoughts crossed my mind often.

Not wanting a large shark near our inflatable boat with sharp fins (or teeth!), I asked him several times, "you have your knife ready to cut the line?" This tug of war went on for quite a while until we had a jack crevalle inside the boat. About three and one-half feet long, guesstimating a weight of 15-20 pounds, this fish represented the first fish caught from our little boat, the largest fish I have ever caught, the most interesting fish adventure with any of my sons, and an outing never to be forgotten. The photo my son took with his cell phone is now the wallpaper for his phone and mine.

Neither of us are ready to turn professional now, but the weekend's adventure was beyond our wildest imagination. It was the product of never giving up. And while the fish is something to be quite proud of, the best thing it gave us was yet another story to carry for decades. Rewards come to those who persist, and usually it comes as something other than was hoped for in the first place.

Generation improvements

There is much talk about whether the boomer generation's children will be the first to be worse off than their parents. Or maybe it is the generation X's kids. Whatever. People are looking for the place in the "how good we're doing" curve that it declines. Generational "keeping up with the Jones'" among other things, but there is more going on here.

For those keeping score, it tends to be based on possessions, wealth and job futures. How about health, medical care, freedom to experience, and other things?

I have no idea whether my three sons will make more than I am making. My oldest now makes more in his own business than I did at his age in my own business. Adjusted for inflation, it is likely still more. I was married and he was born when I was his age now, which has some implications, too. Upon greater review of each of the boys (ages 25, 21, 14), I know they are better off in many ways, and I'm proud to say so. The ways they are better off speak more to their potential future lives than whether they make more than me, have more than me or anything else that is wealth or consumption related at comparable ages.

I can safely say that at comparative ages to me, each has been more confident, mentally tough, competitive, charming, confidently curious, and expressive of their thoughts. The checkbook measurables don't much matter to me any more.

Music of Son and Father

The Living Years--Mike and the Mechanics (birth)
Arms Wide Open--Creed (raising)
Cat's in the Cradle--Harry Chapin (raising)
Younger Generation--Loving Spoonful (raising)
Father and Son--Cat Stevens (about time to move on)
Child's Song--Tom Rush (child leaving)

I listen to these songs to remember growing up and to remember my sons are, too. These explain the cycle about as well as any psychology or parenting book ever could.

The Journey: Part Five

The conversation was about parents, fitting on Mother's Day. Then he said, "She told me that a child's first impressions of God comes in the actions of the parents." Zing.

I thought of when I explained to a struggling friend that God was "mega-dad," a loving and caring father figure. Or to my sons that God was caring, though not afraid of disciplining, but largely leaving us to our own decisions. Example upon example substantiated the claim made to my friend about parents' roles in shaping impressions of God.

It didn't take long to get to the next step: responsibility. Parents have a responsibility to share concepts of faith, love, charity, respect, not only for the current day behavior of their children, but also their children's perceptions of the divine that will affect them for a lifetime.

The Journey: Part Three

(c) Dion McInnis 2007. All rights reserved.



CONVERSATIONS

A couple of weeks ago, my youngest son and I were heading to the house. It was one of our weekends together, which always results in stories, fishing, laughter and a bit of craziness. On that day's drive, we added a conversation about God. I don't recall exactly how we got to the topic, but it is not where we started...just as it is for many in their questions about God. Those questions arise from other questions, like "why did I suffer the loss of my parent/child/spouse?" or "how was all this neat stuff really created in the first place?" It was something like the latter question that got us going.

We talked about God, creation and such, and then his questions became a bit more directed, like "what do you believe God is then, dad?"

We had a long, wonderful dialog lasting about 45 minutes and then he said, "We don't have conversations about God at home. This was interesting."

God is interesting. So are conversations about him, as long as the conversing parties can maintain mutual respect for each other's questions, answers and beliefs. We become better teachers of our faith when we actually teach it and encourage others to learn (there is a difference, you know); just like we become better believers when we share beliefs and converse with those with little or no belief.

Jesus' work was largely built on stories shared in conversations, with groups large and small. I don't imagine him having a library of self-help tapes and DVDs, actually. It was the give and take of conversation that spoke to the value of the downtrodden, the clarity of the Kingdom, and the role of discipleship.

...which leads me to another conversation, with a colleague. Once we finished our business chat, we found ourselves talking about faith, religion, and such, and I told him about this blog on "the journey." He asked a question: "Who do you believe God is?" It was an easy question to answer based on my beliefs and experiences, though the answer was not something memorized in an old catechism book (though influenced by it), nor from ministry classes (though influenced by them), nor from a multitude of religious and philosophical readings (though influenced by them).

...which leads me to another conversation, with my middle son. We were discussing jobs, roles, callings, making changes along the way while keep an eye on the ball. And what is "the ball' anyway? For me, it has to do with using the abilities that God gave me as fully as possible. Anything that impedes that is not tolerable over the long term, in my mind, and I feel that I will be called upon on Judgement Day to respond to the age-old question? "What did you do with what I gave you?" I figure that means the talents I was born with, the people who have influenced me throughout my life (either positively or negatively), the country and society that I live in with its temptations and its opportunities, my health, and so on. What HAVE I done with those things in order to fulfill a call to serve, to make the world a better place and to help others in MY way?

The point of this part of the journey is simple: Talk. Converse. Ask questions, answer questions. We as people connect in conversation, learn in conversation, are healed in conversation.

Years ago I delivered a homily on the theme that we are all Christophers, no matter what our name actually is, i.e., we are all Christ bearers, taking Christ from one place to another, from one side to the other, from one people to another. And it isn't easy. And that's okay. Conversing with others is one great way to carry the message....for yourself and for others.

Play Ball

youth