Happy New Year

It’s 4pm and I’m supposed to be at our mountain home waiting for guest to arrive for a little get together tonight. We don’t have internet so I’m sitting in a coffee shop called “Java The Hut”. No kidding. The coffee is okay and I’m thinking about my life, all of you and what’s ahead. None of us knows what 2009 will bring. Heck, we had no idea what was going to happen last year and look at what we did. I’m glad 2008 is almost over. I would never go back but I would never have wanted to miss that experience either. What’s ahead? I don’t know and I’m glad I don’t know. I’m sure life will be filled with moments of drama, laughter, sadness and everything in between. What I hope changes this year is how I respond to all of that. If there is one thing the campaign taught me is that I can do anything. After 23-New Years as a News Guy, now I’m  free and wondering what is to come. In that freedom I have this great sense that great things are coming. So, Happy New Year everyone.

My Checklist Addiction/I’m in Recovery

If I could bring back every checklist I’ve ever made in my life there would be no threat of Global Warming, mills in Oregon would reopen and thousands of loggers would be back at work. If I could bring back every checklist I’ve made since I was old enough to write, Rural Oregon Schools would find millions of dollars in the O&C coffers and Oprah’s love life could be tonight’s headline rather than the economy.

Checklists once ruled my day. They told me I had value, responsibility and purpose. I’d get up to a yellow tablet and felt pen. I like those skinny pens that make me feel like I’m Ben Franklin when I write? My lists read like a “Who’s done what” list. I’d start with the important stuff such as feed the goats, fix the barn, and repair a water pipe. But when that failed to fill the void I’d  add stuff to the list that I would need to do anyway or have already done (thinks like breath, get the mail and shave).

At the end of the day all those checks tell me whether my day could be listed as a success or not.

Since the campaign ended my desire to make a checklist has not gone away but the joy the checklist once brought my day is gone. I still dabble in checklists. Addictions aren’t easy to turn around. It’s like a drug really. Towards the end putting a few items on the list wasn’t enough to get me high anymore. I needed a scroll to give me that kick. For some of you checklists are fine. You can handle them. It doesn’t create the same desire in you that it unleashes in me. (I say that so you can feel better as you read this and say, “I wonder if I have a checklist addiction?)

When one has no career to fill the value meter you find the urge for a checklist that much greater. People ask me “what I’m doing” and I create a verbal checklist and watch them sigh in relief. It’s as if they know, by the checklist, that I’m not turning into “one of those people”. But the truth is I’m not as productive as I once was, or maybe doing less is really more.

The world Rick Dancer once lived in is disappearing. My career, my false sense of security, and my checklists are harder to find. I will still make checklists now and then. In fact, I need to get to the gym, get the skis out, feed the goats and talk to the house sitter about watching my home. Opps, there I go. See how easily I fall? Okay, I will do all of those things but promise not to put another logger out of work of give Al Gore more to go on and on about (that was a little political I know) and I vow to you this day, if those items do end up on a piece of paper I won’t make a check next to them at the end of the day. Hey, it’s a start.

Surprise Ending.

The final movie credits start to roll. The room fills with the sound of restlessness as those around me stir for the first time in two hours. We’ve just watched a movie about the unknown hero’s who tried to stop Adolf Hitler but failed. I’m one of those moviegoers who like to get out of the theater when the show is over. I don’t sit and watch the credits or wait for the lines to subside. I want out. As I head up the stairs to go back down my eyes meet those of an older gentleman who obviously had something to say to me.  Our gaze connected, paused and then he opened his mouth to say something I hear a lot these days. He said, “Rick, thanks for trying”. He was referring to my recent attempt at politics. I’ve heard these same words before but this time they caused my heart to sink for a second. I don’t know why but I could feel saltwater pooling along the edges of my eye sockets as the words hit their mark. Why was this comment, that look and the way it was delivered causing this sort of involuntary reaction, now?

As this journey moves from the public eye to a much more lonely walk, I feel the missing puzzle pieces starting to come together.

I did the right thing.

I did it the right way.

I did it for the right reasons.

And people see that.

God speaks to each of us in different ways. There are times when a poem opens a window that’s been closed a long time. For me a song can always bring clarity to a situation. A good movie or a book can also speak volumes to my soul.

Last night God used a stranger, a glance and the simplest few words to tell me I’m on the right path. A simple “Thank you” was all it took.

Just the two of us.

I used to think Christmas was all about family but my mind is starting to change. I think that’s a cultural thing, not a true meaning of the holiday. We market Christmas as a time of giving, a time to see old friends and reunite with family and big gathers. But as your family starts to disappear that begins to change. Kathy’s Parents are both gone, my dad died last January and Christmas seems to be changing or maybe for the first time in my life I’m starting to see what it truly is supposed to be about.

As a kid I lived for Christmas. It was the one of the things my dad and I had in common. We used to string lights all over the house, put up the tacky plastic lighted nativity scene and worship Andy Williams and his now famous Christmas Albums. I’d have the tree all organized with gifts so that when you got up Christmas morning everything was set. I remember everything had to be just perfect in my Christmas production. Over the years the shows have changed and so have the characters. We had two boys so they became actors in this production of Christmas past,present and future. They were good years but something has changed.

It seems that the group Christmas theme just doesn’t seem to work anymore. I’m finding that I can’t “buy” Christmas. I wake up on Christmas morning only to discover that it doesn’t feel the way it used to feel. Something is missing replaced by something far more foundational yet weird. Christmas, for me, is not about the big family gatherings, mass’ of gifts under the tree or even a candlelight service at the church of my choice.

Christmas has become much more personal and even a bit lonely. That’s not the sad kind of lonely  It’s the type of lonely that comes when you realize that marketing Jesus can’t be done. Creating the Disney Christmas is not only unnatural it’s almost disgusting to me. I see signs where people say “Put Jesus Back in Christmas”. I didn’t know He ever left. I know we live in a culture that doesn’t pay attention to the true meaning of words but Christmas (Christ’s Birth) has Jesus all over it. Perhaps those signs aren’t good enough. Perhaps to truly celebrate Christmas you have to get away from the cultural trappings of what we want Christmas to be and go back to it’s origin.

Christmas is about Christ’s birth. Perhaps christmas is less to do with cookies, fudge, gifts, lights and a tree and much more about relationship. I think it’s time to turn on the tree, light a candle, turn on the Christmas Village and spend some time with God.

Just the two of us.

Now what are you going to do? Fight.

People keep asking me the natural question? Now what are you going to do? I have a standard answer but the truth is “I done know”. That should scare the hell out of me. There are mornings when I wake up in bed and mentally fight off the fear. The “what ifs” are what cause the most grief. It’s as if the enemy of my soul is trying to get me to spar with it. My greatest weapon is to say to God, “I refuse to go there, you take this one”.

It’s all about Faith. I mean, what is Faith anyway? Is it answers? No.  Great experiences? No. Great Revelation? No. Faith is believing that God really is in charge. It’s saying to the nay-sayers, which mostly reside in my mind, that God has a plan. I’m honestly not worried about the future.

This is how my morning started out. A battled ensued and ended. I found myself asleep in my recliner, dog in my lap, coffee cup nearby, fire in the fireplace and my mind at peace.

The last thing I read before I drifted off was from Gerald May: By worshiping efficiency, the human race has achieved the highest level of efficiency in history, but how much have we grown in love?”

I”m too darn efficient. I’m going to work on that.

A Snow Day at Our House

A typical Snow day In our neck of the woods. Jess, Payton and Regen.