Finding fixes in a sturdy foundation

 

I can really struggle with the simplest of handyman jobs. My limited skills and tools selection can turn a little quick repair into a drawn out mini-catastrophe. I’m too cheap to buy brand new. I’m usually unwilling to pay somebody else to fix my stuff. I’m better in this digital computer, or artistic world, than the straightforward mechanics of nuts and bolts.

Tomorrow I want to be camping with my family in the ‘gently used’ popup that Lindsay and I purchased a few weeks ago, from a craigslist ad. I found out last Sunday that a threaded driveshaft assembly on the lift system was stripped out, and the top would not pop. Shux! It was a must-fix if any time would be spent in the camper with weekend.

After busting some knuckles and identifying the issue, I went about ordering parts. They were expensive, but available and I had them shipped 2nd day air. After arrival I began to disassemble the original pieces in order to replace certain parts with the new. One little roll-pin was being quite uncooperative!

I only had two pieces left that needed to be separated. The roll-in connected them. It was a short driveshaft and toothed gear. First thing was finding a hammer and a punch. Check. Then I needed to whack away at the little end of that pin. Well, just finding a way to set it in place was very hard.

I wanted to secure the part, so I could hit it. I needed it to sit solidly and not move around while I worked on it. I tried using a length of pipe and sticking the driveshaft into it. That worked for a little bit. Then it started to bounce around, the harder I smacked it with the hammer.

I didn’t own a vice, but that is exactly what I needed. Without a way to clamp down and hold it tight, I couldn’t get a good solid thump on the end of that roll-pin.

Throughout the afternoon, I tried many ways to work on the piece but eventually, I made a trip to town and bought some new tools and a vice too. I brought the stuff back home and set the vice on the workbench in my garage. Even at that point, there was more work to do. I didn’t buy big lag screws or bolts and nuts to secure the vice to the bench. I used some deck screws and tried to temporarily hold the vice tight to the countertop.

Then I could clamp down of on the gear. Then I could hit the pin with the punch. Then the roll-pin began to move further out the other side of the gear, closer to release!

So…

If I have a problem in my life, I now see a couple truths about that situation. I might need to find some tools to work on the problem. I may already have some, or I may need to get new ones. Once I have my tools, I might find that pressure and tension and being clamped down upon, might help me focus and pinpoint the solutions. Even if the tools are present and I am locked down ready to pound, I have to be secured firmly to a strong foundation.

The little rolled metal pin stuck in the gears, had to come out, for me to fix the functionality of the camper as a whole. I had to find a strong structure to work from, in order to make any progress at all. Without the solid wooden tabletop, and the heavy-duty metal vice, the pieces just jumped around and became impossible to do anything with.

Eventually, I couldn’t get any further, and had to ask for the help of someone who was better with these things than me. Luckily, my step-dad Joe worked his magic on it. All is well, and the camper is now fixed and ready to take to the lake just a few hours from now.

My personal internal foundations have been tested at times. Do I always remember to lock down my issues and study them against those immovable and unchanging truths? Probably not often enough. Thank God, for steadfast love that endures forever. I pray that I may learn to lean into Him, always.

Reminds me of a song I’ve heard on Sunday mornings 🙂

Sincerely,

Aaron Nichols

On Christ, the solid Rock, I stand;
All other ground is sinking sand,
All other ground is sinking sand.

 

The Masters

I love to watch a master. Don’t you? When you see someone perform and you just completely get the harmony between their person and their craft, it is amazing.

I watched my favorite band play live last night. Play they did! I have been watching The Band of Heathens play live since 2010. They sound better and better every time I see them. They are true musicians. They have written their songs. They each play multiple instruments with excellence. Their extended jams, harmonies, teamwork and energy are pure joy to hear and to see.

These guys have been honing their craft and right now it is RAZOR sharp!

And so is yours. And so is mine. And so is my neighbor’s down the street.

Sorta.

I so appreciated the effort and practice that the Ed and Gordy and Trevor and Richard and Scott have cultivated in their lives together. It is true art, to behold. I have a feeling though, that these same guys wouldn’t rock as hard or as smooth on their guitar or drums or harmonica or piano, if they did it as a hobby. If any of these same amazing musicians had decided to live a ‘balanced’ life, or more normal life, they just wouldn’t be nearly as good.

Thank goodness that they have chosen to ride around the country for months at a time, together in a van pulling a little trailer. I’m so appreciative that they spend time away from their families and bounce from city to city, just playing gig after gig after gig. Year after year, every time they come around they seem to be even better than before.

I’m sure that I am also getting better at my chosen paths in life. I am repeating cycles over and over and over. Surely, I am learning as I go, making corrections, and become more instinctively in tune with my practices… Hmmm….

I probably am doing this same daily reinforcement of activity, but I know that I have not completely and fully committed myself to one specific profession. The boys in the band, play a few different instruments, but they don’t seem to be trying to do anything but music. They don’t seem to share time between a 9-5 job, or every weekend at the lake. They don’t seem to attend every family event that a young Dad could do. They are giving up certain things to stay focused on the music. Sacrifice is part of their commitment.

I am sure I sacrifice too. In an opposite way, I sacrifice all my musical talents and them dwindle and die, while I choose to not play a guitar every day. I sacrifice landscapes and portraits and scenes of brilliant color, every day that I don’t pick up a paintbrush and oils. I sacrifice too, and so do you. I choose, what I choose, and that leaves certain things out.

Yes, I do think we are mastering our craft. In ways it is amazing to watch all of us perform our daily tasks. The musicians of the BoH, give me particular joy to watch, but so does a performance on sunday morning at church. The energy that is stirred in me, is almost perfectly mirrored by the mastery of the musician.

I have become the most adept and amazing artist of my own version of life, that is unique to the whole of the universe. You are too. You are the only one, who is doing the exact version of YOU right now. You are rocking it, hardcore! You have your 10,000 hours of practical experience and it shows. Whatever you are being and doing and committed to, you have made this all manifest from a constant stream of choices.

Wow, I wonder what would happen, if I someday decided to drop certain activities and lead a less ‘balanced’ lifestyle. What if I just chose one of my ‘things’ instead of the array of ‘things’ that I now give my precious attention to.

One of our team members at the restaurant the other day told me that her boss has an eight to ten dollar per minute value on his time in their dental office. Nice, I would bet that some other folks out there are creating on an even higher level than that. What if I thought that the value of my time could be represented in these kind of numbers? Where would I spend it? Where would I drop certain time wasting and sucking activities. Where would I decide to hone and practice and re-work the work over again, until I had mastered it?

I love watching Masters perform their passion, their true love and the thing that they have devoted their lives to… I’m betting that it feels even better to be that Master, to dance momentarily an the exact natural rhythm, bordering on perfection, and knowing all you want to do is keep playing that same tune.

I do scatter and squander and spray my attention. I am master of that it seems 🙂 I again sit here, late at night and also sacrifice sleep, to do this writing thing. Someday it may seem like I planned it that way. All part of the process of mastery 🙂

Sincerly,

Until Next Week, God Bless You 🙂

Aaron Nichols

This is a Jesus Post, on Easter, Don’t bother to Click Here

I took a picture every mile for a 5000 mile walk, and you can watch it all in two minutes! I shot a selfie at 1000 world landmarks, the journey lasted 3 years, and you can see it all in the next 90 seconds! I had a baby back in the eighties, and every month I took her picture, wearing the same dress. She is in her thirties now,  I put all the images together and you can watch her grow from an infant to a grown woman with children of her own, in just the next minute! WOW! You… Must… See… Thissssss………!!!!

C’mon, you know what I’m talking about, right? Just this morning Lindsay found a link online, where a man hiked the Pacific Crest Trail and shot a picture each mile. It is an amazing video, his journey was epic, and he took the time to make a quick easy presentation that I can watch in a flash. I experience a glimpse of hundreds of gorgeous vistas. I can see his face transform with exercise. I imagine briefly, the countless steps he took, the wear and tear on his feet and the smiles from the friends he made. All this action, and I don’t even have to hardly shift my comfy position within the fluffy folds of blanketry, nestled on our king-sized bed.

This week has been the first Easter in the last 5 years, that I have experienced without the spiritual shepherding of Tim Soule. Our former church pastor, always invested time to develop and flesh-out and reiterate the importance of Holy Week. We’ve been in transition mode at Church, and although there is work and activity and worship, I miss his guidance at this time.

I have felt my heart tugging my attention away from trivial matters at little moments though. Thursday night, I thought of the Last Supper. Early early in the morning on Friday, I was considering the Garden. I know that there is something so earth-shattering and cosmic-shifting about this week, that I just wanted to contemplate at times a sliver of a glimpse of the gravity of Jesus’ sacrifice for me, for you.

Truly however, I was tucked comfy in my bed. I walked my familiar paths of laziness and procrastinations. I laughed at the shortcomings of other people. I complained and gossiped. I let my eyes and my mind wander to darkness and lust and anger, probably greed too. I was just as base and rooted in my flesh as ever. Stone-cold broken. A sinner through and ever through.

I wanted to watch from afar, an amazing feat. I wanted to witness the profound, the unimaginable, and holiest moments to come, all in just a 30 second flash of thought.

I want to experience the breadth and depth of the the crucifixion and the resurrection, with the smallest possible investment of my time and my true engagement.

Back to my ‘regular life’ please! As quickly as possible please! Very very busy today! Lots to get done! I’ll catch up with ya later Jesus! Thanks for dyin’ for me, I do appreciate it! Redemption and salvation are awesome! Rock on, man! TTYL!

Well, funny thing is, even if I really wanted it to work that way, Jesus does not let me off the hook that easy. See, I have found that his impact on my life is grindingly difficult. The changes are complex and soul-shatteringly exhausting. Only everything transforms when you ask for his embrace.  He gave more than I ever will, but he’s asked that I give too.

I want nothing more than to return to my old ways. I want the false freedom and immediate peace that comes from living in this material world with it’s elementary rules. It seems easy now, looking back, to find a moment’s happiness in a bottle of wine. I could laugh and carry-on, scratching the itches of jealousy or insecurity, all while pointing fingers at other people. I can find camaraderie, friendship aplenty, speaking of imaginary limitations, and locking myself into repetitious cycles.  The hunger of our flesh is quick to satisfy.

If the finest feat we could accomplish would be to experience the greatest earthly gratifications, he would have shown us how. He could have had every earthly desire. All within easy reach, for the Son of God.

He asks us to consider a greater endeavor, by committing himself to the ultimate humiliations, betrayals and real pain. The one who can touch our lives today, is not just the king of the world, he’s the King of Kings.

His ways are plain and profound. He walks the countryside and talks to people. He asks men to leave their lives and follow him. He sits by himself and prays. He makes sure that people eat. He wants those that are sick to be healed and then go and sin no more. His truth is being beaten and laughed at. His life is given away in a terribly bloody black-comedy. They make him a crown of thorns to belittle him, and attempt to stomp out any possible dignity to his lonely Friday afternoon death.

A man like this has changed me. Both man and God. I am lost now. Caught in-between this world and His world. I want back into my old life so often. I hope tomorrow morning I want to want the resurrection, and the new covenant. Straddling and struggling, this week of Easter reminds me that I will always be a human. I am watching it happen and laughing too. I am not stepping in to help. I am adding to the pain. I act like one of the Roman soldiers slinging a whip. I embody one of the Jews who shout “Give us Barabbas!”.  I am a disciple hiding in fear of my own life, nowhere near him, not coming to help.

And he died in Love for me, and for you, and for the Roman and the Jew and the Disciple too. He did all this for us. I hope I remember to thank him today in some small simple Jesus-like actual action 🙂

Sincerely,

Aaron Nichols

Therefore Pilate said to Him, “So You are a king?” Jesus answered, “You say correctly that I am a king For this I have been born, and for this I have come into the world, to testify to the truth Everyone who is of the truth hears My voice.”  – John 18:37

Running A-Way for Life

Of course, packing up for a weekend away makes me think of the upcoming birth we are expecting in August. I will probably pack bags, when it’s delivery time. I will probably pack bags and load them for a long time after that too.

We’re leaving in the morning to go to Johnson Shut-Ins State Park in Missouri.  I cram totes and duffels and snacks and a cooler into our truck and I am excited to be camping soon. I remember being a young kid and loving these kind of trips. I examine my choices of gear and of supplies, I remember my best friend as child, James Barkley.

We had great conversations together, walking home after school. Just a few blocks, literally over a (tiny) river and through the woods, to my Grandmother’s House we’d go. I remember talking about school, or testing out dirty cuss words, or planning out how we’d manage to get to stay that night at one or the other’s houses.

Also, I recall the exact feeling of our discussions about running away. At the time, we planned our escape riding a small four-wheeler. I remember wanting a little cargo trailer to hitch onto mine. I also spent lots and lots of time thinking about all the things I would pack into the trailer, and strap on the racks of the quad. I wanted camping stuff and food. Drinks and clothes and snacks. Probably a knife and an axe too. I wanted everything I might need for my journey, all lashed onto my go-anywhere vehicular rig.

Well, that is just about what I have, right now, sitting in my driveway. It’s not a quad-runner, but it is a 4Runner. I don’t have the trailer, but I do have plenty of room for my stuff. Speaking of stuff, I have a bunch of it; camping gear galore. I don’t have James with me, but my best friend in the world, Lindsay will be by my side. I can rest happy tonight, knowing we will ‘Run Away’, bright and early tomorrow morning.

We’ll even have our 20 week old baby on board 🙂

Packing up for a journey, makes me wonder about that little one. I wonder about the origins of life. I wonder about our souls. I question the biggest ‘hows’ that my mind can imagine. I have come across lots of different schools of thought, concerning how our lives work. Some seem sure that we pop out fresh; we have this one life and that’s it. Others seem confident that our essence has had many incarnations and repetitious spins around the carousel of life.

I know that Dr. Wayne Dyer’s words connected with me, years ago, when he marveled at the fact that we all started out as an impossibly small dot of existence. We then grow and double in size until eventually we become something amazing; a complete human being.

He illustrates that from an infinitesimally microscopic spec, the wholeness of our lives is produced. That tiny dot contains all the information needed to construct our entire being. Something thousands of times smaller than the period on this sentence was the source I came from, and you came from, and James and Lindsay and even this little new baby comes from too. Amazing. The journey, the adventure we embark upon, in this place we call the world, is compacted so simply, efficiently and elegantly.

I guess that the art of taking a trip is inherent, down to our core. Acknowledging our needs and our wants, making a plan, and setting out to see something new. It’s the kind of fun, that I habitually require. It may help explain the blueprint for our very existence: A self reliant but well-equipped adventure, forever created, ultimately and supremely by God.

Here’s to playing 12 years old again. Here’s to running away for a bit, and to coming back home, to begin again and again with the family I love.

Sincerely,

Aaron Nichols

2015-03-17 20.30.05

 

Once Upon A Mid Night Mind Clear

Holding this moment of silence, just feeling the brushed and shallow breath grow a little deeper each time, the dark stillness of night is pure. Some say that this super mid night hour is a great time to awaken. The earliest of morning is a moment that the world slumbers and God will converse through the depth of the blackness.

It’s 3:11 am. And I do need to head soon to bed.

The compounding and contorting kaleidoscope of the day has slowed down. A click clock tock competes only with the hum-rush of our heater, struggling keep the winter outside. Both are loud tonight.

Across the room is painting on the wall. I found it a couple weeks ago. It was tucked into a big cardboard box. There were several boxes that Mom had saved. Stuff from my childhood. Memories among the stuff.

The painting is signed by me. I crafted it, and it’s pretty terrible. The landscape scene is of a bridge, over a river. The vegitation is confused. Some tufted tree thingies live along the water. A huge tree limb angles across the sky. I attempted reflections in the stream, but they don’t match up with anything, really. The colors are muddled. A pale yellow and light blue sky somehow lend a vibrance to the water. It’s surface is quite vibrant.

I don’t remember each moment of painting this thing. I do however think I was attempting to channel Bob Ross. But Bob, I aint’.

Anyway, I have hung this painting up in our house. Near our ‘office’ area, I can see it every day. I’ve been wondering about it lately. It seems to grab my attention often. I notice it, I’m aware of it’s faults. I laugh when I realize how poorly it was designed and executed.

I’m sure I painted it for a class. I wonder what the grade would have been?

Hmmm.

I do know this though, as bad as the painting looks to me today, I am proud of it. I think it is quite remarkable that maybe twenty years after I put that acrylic onto the canvas, I pulled it out of a box and hung it on the wall in my home. It somehow stuck around.

More than that though, I am proud because I made it. I chose the parts, I used my two hands and my two eyes to set each brushstroke on the media. It is caked on and too thick of application. This is the work of a beginner. I don’t remember painting much at all when I was young. This is almost a first-timer effort.

I did not choose to stick with this type of artwork. I didn’t pursue the mastery of it. I’m not sure I ever painted again, after this image.

But I did make this one. I did try and put effort into it. I see the results of my work, and I am not wanting to compare it to a Michelangelo, but compared to me, it is just great; as is. I tried, and I made something. I was given the materials and I produced a result.

I could learn to love my life, in the same weird way, of loving this ugly painting. I could give myself a break. Realize that I have tried and have given my efforts toward creating something on the canvas of this world. Someday, at the end of it all, I can sign my name to it. I was the artist who brushed on the strokes of my own composition.

I don’t have to constantly compare it to the old world masters. I could look at my own life, as a stand-alone work of art. My art. I could try that sometime. Ugly is a term that carries negativity. It speaks of disproportion and disfigurement. Sometimes I look at my life with that same distaste for my own creation.

I could though, instead, decide to see something I made. I created it with the tools and the experience that I had to work with. I crafted it with love and with care. I wanted to make it pretty. I added in the things I wanted to be there. I left out the things I considered unnecessary.

I could decide that my painting the best thing I ever painted. I could see that I made the best life I could make; as is.

Hmmm….

I was thinking all week about problems. I saw them almost everywhere. My brain hurt, considering the options, juggling possible outcomes. I sunk into black negativity, when the sheer size and breadth and depth of them loomed overhead.

In one brief second, after days of mental exhaustion. I saw that maybe, ‘seeing the problems’… was the problem.

I could have seen just stuff. Just neutral-ness and perfection in the chaos. I could have seen this calm moment at the center of it all. With God’s true heart inviting me always to abide in Him.

My painting, is just that. It’s mine. It full of problems, yes, but all of it, is a creation that I know, no one else could have made. It’s uniquely me. Another will never duplicate it.

Until next week. I invite you into the middle of the calm of the night. All things in this tiny flash of a moment slow down. They all become perfectly ugly. The beautiful transfigured life. In a couple more hours the day will awaken. The motion returns. Another cycle can throw us around. Not for right now though. Not in this one deeply calmly breathed epoch of a split second.

Hello Life, I Love You 🙂

Sincerely,

Aaron Nichols

(3:52 am)

I believe I’ll peer into the weirdness…

As a grade school philosopher, I clearly remember a crowning moment of achievement. One day I came up with a question, a sentence, that twisted my tiny mind. I was stumped without an answer to it, and yet, I had ‘created’ it. Just like making up a joke, or crafting an adventurous story, my childhood imagination, marveled at my wordplay invention…

“What does ‘mean’ mean, if ‘mean’, means ‘mean’?

umm… well… I still don’t know, or much care to answer this silly question tonight.

I do think though, that I want to tell you all, every reader here, that I always felt ‘weird’ about using my mind to think up these little questions. I did a lot of pondering as a kid. I wondered about the how’s and the why’s of life, and the world around us, as long as I can remember.

When hanging out with friends, or in a class, I would sometimes mention some of my deeper questions. Maybe I would express a mystery that befuddled me. I seem to remember that others were quick to dismiss it or laugh or maybe just let a blank stare lead to silence. Even to this day, I can only recall a few people who I could really conversate with, who were willing to discuss my rudimentary questions and views on science, the arts, the nature of reality, or spirituality.

I do know that this little blog is place where I feel free-er and free-er to write out my quirky inner conversations. Instead of just having this discussion between my own ears, one big reason I wanted to talk to other people about these deep issues, is that I wondered about how other people observe and understand this curiosity called ‘Life.’

What do you believe? What leads you to believe what you do? What do you notice and understand and expect out of best and worst moments of your known existence?  Did you get your beliefs from somewhere else? From a person, an experience or just from a gut-level certainty that you were born with? Do your deepest beliefs change? Have you watched them transform over as your life unfolds? Do you think that core truth has always been the same, but shows itself in different ways?

….

Okay, now I am beginning to lead things on, and shape some answers…

Back to my youth. Back to being embarrassed about wanting to care and become concerned with philosophy, with meaning and cause and effect. I felt that I was the only person in the whole world maybe who wondered about this stuff. Untrue, but still a very vivid insecurity.

Us human beings do lots of talking. We do it all the time. We get together, one mouth starts and then the other responds. Words, ideas, emotions and information is all shared between us with our language. We are constantly giving, receiving and processing the words from others…

I wonder tonight, if there is possibly more than one real question? I wonder if every word uttered relates to just a single core inquiry? I could just quit blogging right now, if I could properly ask the question and receive the fullness of your answer. If I could even put my own articulate and concise thesis together, to share with you, I could save you from ever having to read another of these silly online bloggy posties.

‘What do you really believe?’

and to answer with my own

‘Here’s what I really believe.’

Simple, right?

Nah.

Not only, does every one of my conversations, have this question at it’s core, It also breeds actions. All of my actions, are a result of my deepest committed beliefs, and yours are that way too. All of my observations and yes, judgments, of actions I see, bounce against this question as well. We know, our own deepest beliefs, by the steps we take each day. The place where I find my feet, tells me the truth of my heart.

Ha!

Well, I must believe in beliefs.

What if they are illusion as well? What if there is no you, or there is no me. What if the ‘I’ that is referred to, doesn’t even exist? God, the creator, has planted mysteries and puzzles among the intricate simplicity of the grand design.

I am only glad today, that I can type these words in the blackness of night, and not still feel the same shame, I once did…

It’s good be weird…

I hope you feel empowered to share your weirdness, and yes your beliefs, with someone today 🙂

Sincerely,

Aaron Nichols

I finally bought the TV Service they sell at Wal-Mart… NOT.

It is a real wonder that I have ever tried anything new or different in my life. Sometimes I begin to wonder if I ever really have. I can pinpoint my patterns that have been in perpetual repetition for as long as I can remember. I am talking about patterns of behaviors, habits, emotional responses and most especially cyclical thoughts that ever return, over and over again.

Funny then, that the idea of repetitiveness comes from my encounter yet again, with the TV sales guy at Wal-Mart yesterday. I don’t know if you visit that store as much as I do (and I hope you don’t) but for several months they have allowed a team of salespeople to bug you about buying their TV service anytime you walk past the electronics department.

Grrrr…

I walk past there several times a week. So then, I am constantly asked a little ‘opener’ question about what TV service I have. I already know what to expect. I have seen them from down the isle. I usually (only halfway politely) respond with the fact that I have free TV service that comes out of the airwaves. They usually tell me that they have a great service also, and at a really good price. I have not yet found it to be as cheap as FREE, but maybe by the time the 150th salesperson engages me, they will find a way to describe it as so cheap, it’s almost free… Yeah Right.

Anyway, as I walked away from Mr. TV Guy yesterday, I once again said a little ‘good thought’ prayer for him. I do hope that he finds productive valuable work and can give his talents to something more substantive than bugging shoppers to sign his contract.

I was thinking about how I really don’t ever like to be ‘sold’ something. I was thinking about how I do not ever want my current mission to be derailed and rerouted into the ‘swinging deal’ that some salesman is hawking. I don’t let the root of my intentions for my day, be redirected into becoming the pawn in someone else’s sales goals… not without my permission first, and very first.

Of course I do engage in purchasing and consuming like most other people. I have signed contracts and bought things and helped someone else hit their sales goals. I do it probably every day, on some level. However, I much prefer the open door, the business who provides a good product or service, and I get to hunt them down, when I want to.

These are tiny examples of my personal ‘come-from’ and probably a lot of other people’s too. I think of this idea in terms of business ideas I have tried, and also failed at. I have tried to create services that offered things people could need. Like marketing/advertising/web design for your small business. I have tried to offer personal financial fitness coaching, to help people feel more in control of their money problems. I have also done some life coaching.

Selling things like this was hard for me. I felt that people (like me) didn’t want to be sold on something, they wanted to be able to ask for it, hunt it down and feel they were the ones who made it happen. (Like Me)

According to Mr. Steve Chandler, this idea in itself is a mental blockage.  A life coach is someone who can bring a cool drink of water to the sun-baked and thirsty desert wanderer. He expressed new realms of thought around the idea of selling and allowing someone access to a product or service.

I do love hearing him speak about those exciting concepts… However, I usually crawl back into the dark hole of my well-known comfortable past experiences. I want the alleviation that complacency allows. I want the same problems again, because I know them well. New ones would be scary, I guess. Maybe even better problems, more exciting and fun and fulfilling, but I tend to keep new and different at bay.

So there I go, settling back into the deeply contoured seat that my the fat butt of my being has worn over and over again through the decades. I think I return to the same issues and experiences, that I truly always have.

I see my young nephews developing their personalities. At four years old, you can see now, things that were noticeable almost as infants. I have a kid on the way too. I wonder what specific shapes their personality will carry throughout their lifetime?

I know some people who work on this stuff, trying to ‘fix’ it. I have met and talked with those who have attended Landmark Forum seminars, they have tools to reprogram the mind, they say. I have seen the work of Byron Katie, who seems to take the opposite approach, she teaches to Love What Is. Michael Neil, who I have met and talked with, has a book out called the Inside Out Revolution, where all the work we need to do is within our power, inside of ourselves, and then the world becomes what we want it to be…

I know about all this ‘life coaching’ and behavior stuff, because I was interested in it. I hunted it out. I wanted to learn about new possibilities for me, for others. It wasn’t because someone caught me passing by and ‘sold’ me on it…

I may always be curious and always wanting to learn about new streams of thought. I may always choose to stay stagnant and stuck, even when help is right across a thin line of action. I know my own victim-mentality better than ever now. I know I could start the conversation with the TV Sales Guy. I know I could witness to him, probably get him to avoid me 🙂 I could do a lot of things…

I probably will do things I have done before. Until I am just completely fed up, and the pain of staying the same becomes greater than the pain of change. (Dr. Henry Cloud)

Until next week. Take Care.

Sincerely,

Aaron Nichols

“We change our behavior when the pain of staying the same becomes greater than the pain of changing. Consequences give us the pain that motivates us to change.”

― Henry Cloud

Overdrive Off… At least this week!

Wham! Skidddd…. The heavy metal picnic table went grinding backwards. Moments ago as my wife was gone, I decided to move our truck real close to the table so the unloading-reloading process would easier. I got it there, and a new dent too. Oh well, just below the taillight, and the truck is already beat up. Could have been worse.

This camping, hiking, 4×4 trip to Colorado (that we are on right now) has been full of little moments just like this. My best intentions and pre-planning have produced baby disappointment while the happy accidents and favorable blessings are really what is making all the difference.

Even in the midst of this vacation I want to take the time out here to record some of my experiences and share with you.

As you read last week, I recently bought a beat up old truck to drive out on this trip. Before we left, I had only taken it for a twenty minute test drive. Needless to say, I was a little nervous that it wouldn’t make it across western Kansas. Luckily it did.

Then I was hoping it could handle the mountains okay. Luckily it did. And even yesterday we banged across, tumbled straight down, and crawled straight up, some seriously gnarly backcountry trails. All good right???

Well almost all good, almost all bad…

See, as we slowed down and entered our campground on the first day of this trip, I heard a reoccurring squeak. I jumped out and went to the driver’s side rear wheel. Sure enough, all the lug nuts were finger loose. Did I mention that this campground sits near the bottom side of the high altitude switchbacks of Independence Pass, that we had just drove over? This was after our trip through Leadville, and the I-70 mountain runs before that.

These are deadly places to lose a wheel.

Not by my power or prowess did we escape serious trouble. Some Angel held that thing on.

After I checked things out and we headed out for more fun, I just kept thinking about how lucky we got. Amazing.

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Yesterday’s adventures included driving to the top of Aspen mountain, we took a guided hike tour with other folks, all of whom rode the gondola up there. We were told at the forestry station that Richmond Hill Road was impassable due to large snow drifts in the shady spots. We wanted a nice mountain top lunch spot so we figured we would drive till we couldn’t anymore, then stop and eat and turn around.

We did find a great spot for lunch with 360 degree panoramic views. Then we found mud holes where the snow drifts used to be. We found thousands upon thousands of baby boulders to bounce across. We even found some super steep loose rock washes that we had to climb.

One particular spot was a short steep switchback with almost no room to pass next to a big pile of icy snow, it was melting and the ground was slippery wet rocks and mud. On my second straightened-up-start the wheels spun then finally grabbed. I could hardly watch as I was driving the razors edge of a slimy cliff, with a several hundred feet drop off to the side. I really didn’t even think of praying to make it up. Just as we motored beside the snow pile and crested this little obstacle amongst many, I said out loud, “Stay calm, take it easy, don’t panic, don’t do anything stupid right now.”

And that is one of my big takeaways so far on this trip. It could help me in lots of moments of my life, to just remind myself of that…

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Earlier I mentioned an angel. Well, during every one of these exhilaratingly terrifying moments, an angel has been sitting right beside me. My wife has been the number one best part of this trip. Better than the durable Toyota, better than the mountain top views, better than watching the sunrise from my hammock, better than the campfire burger at the end of the day. None of these things would have any of the rich value to me, without her.

It amazes me, that she is willing to let me take her to the top of the Rockies and back. Her trust is all my strength, period. As I am puckered up and wonderin’ if we will get out of these mountain roads in one piece, she is there too. When I ask if she is scared, she says she just closes her eyes. Even these times are important, she lets me work, she is hopeful, she stays calm, so I can too. She is the best partner I could ever have hoped for. She shows me, beyond love.

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I am so good whenever she is with me, and when she is not, well… I run into picnic tables!

This beautiful Colorado day lies ahead of us. I can’t wait any longer to get out there and do it again with Her 🙂 oh, and Roxy too 🙂

From the Nichols family to you, I hope you have a wonderful week, wherever you are.

With Love

Sincerely,

Aaron Nichols

Baby Please! Infantile behavior in the workplace…

I work with a bunch of babies. It’s true, I’m talking about real whiny little babies. Maybe not bunches of them, but three or four come to mind right now, that I work with on a weekly basis.

When parents come to our restaurant, and they have little kids. I want to take special care of the youngsters. I can see that making the children happy, can make the whole dining experience go smoother for the family, and sometimes dining room, as a whole.

If a couple has a very small child, one that may need held because they’re squirmy in their seat, or maybe getting fussy, I am glad to help out. Just yesterday, I had lots of fun, bussing tables and checking on customers while holding onto my little friend Owen. His parents enjoyed the time to eat with both hands free, and even told me they considered it a mini-date, in that their time to eat alone is rare.

Yeah, I work with these babies, and I notice something interesting. When I grab up a little guy, or little gal, they tend to be so willing and open to being hauled around the restaurant by a stranger. I don’t spend all my time cooing and cuddling, we get to work. I just scoop them up and go about my (pretty much) normal tasks.

It amazes me, that these kids don’t start screaming, or get audibly scared that a stranger has ahold of them. These aren’t children that I see all the time, they really don’t know me at all. They seem to be fine with that. I’m also pretty sure that they haven’t been constantly carried around in a strange place like our restaurant, with it’s loud clankings and laughter, and general craziness. It can’t be normal to them, and peaceful and serene… it ain’t.

The reason it stands out to me, that these little little tykes seem to react just fine to being dragged around, is that we’re on the move. We are getting to work. We aren’t stopping and sitting and taking notice of the strangeness of it all. That is my assessment of their infantile thoughts anyway.

How should I know, I don’t have kids. My opinion is probably worthless, but just take a moment with me to consider the value of this idea.

Maybe, when we’re moving quickly and at work, real productive work, we don’t have time to let our mind wander and get scared. Maybe, staying in the mode of movement, is a way that we understand, even as babies, is an okay mode to be in. We can feel safety in the canter of direct and intentional motion.

At the restaurant, the pace is quick. Especially, when the dinner rush hits. We all are in action, Everyone. We are all in process of going from one task to the next, as quickly as safely possible, ready to find out our next move, or project or request to fill. During this rush, many times, I experience a strange heightened sense of energy and assertive calm. Not sure it appears that way to others, but to me, it is there. Give me a challenge, I’ll accept, and act, right now. Go!

I’m not always in motion though. Especially at home. I can sink quickly there, solidifying into a slow breathing lump of blah, sitting in front of the computer, using my bent wooden backscratcher, and just leaving it stuck between me and the chair, till the next wintry dry itch.  Maybe it’s morning time, when I’m moving slow. My late nights, are my excuse. I don’t want to move. I draaaag out little things, I stall, and double-back and procrastinate until I’m late again. These are the times I whine most. The times I have to think, the times I have to ponder, and to judge, are the times when I act like a real cry-baby.

Yeah, when I’m slowing down in a non-intentional way, when I just get ‘busy’, I’m letting my mind have room to run. I find myself mulling over sentences that were said the day or night or year before. I replay a scene in my mind, I re-see a failure or twelve of mine. Sometimes even, if going through a rougher patch of a relationship, I will let my mind whittle and slice away at one individual person. I can begin a carving process where I have mentally shaved off anything positive I could perceive about someone, leaving only an exposed raw point of them, that I resent…

Hmm… Sometimes the one I whittle and cut, is myself.

Yeah, when I am sitting (mentally) locked into my comfy child-seat, with no where for my wiggles to go, I get antsy and squirmy and even crazy. I have learned from the little babies at the restaurant, that I do need to get out on the go. I need to get to work. I need to be in a productive moment of action. I then, can not really relax, but re-purpose, my energy, in good ways.

A 34 year old baby like me, can be a real brat, when I’m stuck. The funny part, is that so many things I have fought to achieve over the last few years, have been in pursuit of freedom. Freedom from debt, freedom from an 8-5 job, freedom from addictions too. These things have left me with extra ‘free’ time on my hands. My idle hands. And they have literally become the devil’s playthings.

So, I am glad this week, to tell you that I work with a bunch of babies. I am happy that I do. I like them things. My sister Jessica, told me a looong time ago, that when we see a baby, we see how we are naturally, and most properly designed to move. She was talking about posture, and how they bend at the knees, to pick up a ball. I see more than that though. They are open and trusting and wide eyed, not worrying in their world, although they can provide themselves with absolutely nothing.

When they are on the go, they are happy. They’re learning and growing and beaming with possibility. They know the truths of how our universe works, and they haven’t been filled all full of limiting beliefs yet, by the ‘grown’ and ‘wise’, big-people of the world.

I realize that I am just gloating here, that I held a kid, and they didn’t cry. I know, you may think that is all this is… But I hope I can see more in this ‘little’ lesson they’ve taught me, than just my own self affirming story.

If I am whining and crying and squirmy and upset, I may need my diaper changed, or something to eat, or an afternoon nap. But if all that stuff is taken care of, maybe I just need to move my butt. Maybe I need to get to work on something. Maybe the motion I can create in my life right now, can obliterate the fixation I have on the ‘what is wrong-ness’, and I can literally move on, get over it.

Maybe, I can get back to that tender state of well-being we were designed for. To move and to create and serve. To learn and express. Art in motion, youthful exuberance, bringing smiles wherever we go. That is being a baby, in the best way 🙂

Let’s all be babies today 🙂

Sincerely,

Aaron Nichols