69! Yesterday! Ugh. Double ugh! At least, I got to dive into Susan's
deliciously wicked birthday cheese cake it took her two days to bake.
Yesterday shouldn't
have been. My three mile power walk this morning shouldn't have been. By all
odds, I
should be dead from a massive cerebral hemorrahage not many survive. But, Im
not. Here
I am, alive, as one of those very lucky ones. Of what and of whom is there to
be afraid
after surviving something like that? What today is there not to appreciate
after that?
For what today is there not to be grateful? And so, though I just turned 69, I
don't
feel--I refuse to feel--in any way spiritually, emotionally, mentally, or
physically
decrepit. I pride myself that I am keeping my body and soul in peak shape. I
feel, as I
impishly label myself, that I am a spry "experienced teenager." I've learned
from
experience, whether it was my epiphany in '91 or beating cancer in '04 or
coming out from
this hemorrahage as if nothing had happened, that the greater part of happiness
or misery
depends on my dispositions and not on my circumstances or on others. Oh, sure,
we can and
do blame students, administrators, colleagues, something called "the system,"
something
equally ethereal called "society," and now the economy for a "the devil made me
do it"
attitude. It's easier that way. The problem with blame is that you surrender
your
independence, your sense of control, your self-control, your inner peace, your
inner
harmony, your self-respect, and enslave yourself to the beckoned call of
circumstances and
others. You make yourself into the proverbial leaf helplessly thrown about by
the wind.
But, in the end, attitudes and feelings and actions are all us. Situations and
other
people do not create feelings. Nothing or no one can make us mad, for example,
we do that
to ourselves. We each have to take the responsibility for whom we are; that we
create
whatever feeling we wish to feel, whatever attitudes we wish to have, whatever
actions we
wish to take, in each particular situation with each particular person. Why
are some
people happy and other people sad, determined or resign, in the same
circumstance? It's
because that is how each has chosen to be.
The problem or the solution, then, is that when we respond the same way
often
enough, it becomes an unthinking habit. Feelings seem to come automatically,
even though
they never have to be. We can unlearn, break old habits, learn, and acquire
new habits.
The way we feel about what we do, about the purpose and meaning of what we do,
about
students and colleagues and administrators was and is and will be a choice,
conscious or
otherwise. When we do take that responsibility, we acquire control over
ourselves and,
more importantly, find an inner calm. And, then, we can choose to change, to
let go of,
to create, and/or build upon what we feel.
I once said that growing pains aren't only for children. Ph.D. isn't
Latin for
"Complete." We each should walk around with a sign hanging around our necks
reading,
"Under Construction." Why? Because who we are is not determined and defined
by what we
have accomplished and already know; who we are is determined and defined by
what we're
willing to learn, reflect about, and change toward. Surviving my hemorrahage
has taught
me that my feelings profoundly influence the life I experience and I am
responsible for
the selection that gives real power to the purpose and meaning and significance
that lives
within me and what I wish to do. I define me by what I love to do, by my
curiosity and
imagination and creativity, by my personal vision, by my sense of purpose, by
my sense of
meaning, by my sense of significance, by the difference I strive to be, by whom
I have
become, by whom I strive to become, not by what others think of me or want me
to do.
I define myself by reaching out to touch a student, and thereby change
the world
and alter the future. To do that I've said over and over and over again that I
want to be
that person who is there to help a student help herself or himself become the
person she
or he is capable of becoming. It's a feeling that stirred when I had my
epiphany in
1991. It is even stronger now that I've survived unscathed that cerebral
hemorrahage.
When you've done it, when you've smelled it, when you've felt it, when you've
tasted it,
it feels so significant, so satisfying and so fulfilling, that you want to do
it again and
again and again. What drives me is an unquenchable thirst for adding value to
the lives
of others. It is that sense of significance, that sense of mission, that
purpose, that
sense of meaning. I'm as much if not more passionate; it drives me to work
harder, to
find new ways, to do more, to give more, to be more dedicated and focused, to
be more
aware, to be more alive, to be more empathetic, to be more compassionate, to
have a
greater sensitivity to those around me, to have a deeper sense of otherness. I
consciously work every day to be sure that I am proud of what I do and of who I
am, and
that I hit the sack at night with a satisfied "yeah." I'm always adapting,
adopting,
reshuffling, reloading, retooling, especially this semester when I unexpected
got
blind-sided by a change in copyright laws that nearly gutted all my classes.
It's not
easy; it's not quick; it's not automatic. There's no rabbit to be pulled out
from the
hat. There's no magic wand. It's challenging; it's not neat; it's not even
pretty; it's
a never-ending story; it's demanding of time, energy, and attention. How long
will this
elation and dedication last? I don't know. But, I do know three things.
First, I
learned that fulfillment is in the creating, doing, and giving. It comes from
having--no,
making--an opportunity to make a difference, and doing it generously and with
abandon.
Second, curiosity and imagination and creativity are more than looking at
stuff, dreaming
about stuff, making stuff up, and making stuff. They are about expressing, in
all sorts
of limitless ways, what it means to be immersed in a limitless set of
challenges,
opportunities, and possibilities, and putting your own special stamp on them.
. And
finally, I learned from my cerebral hemorrahage to concentrate only on today.
So, as long
as I am in physical, mental, and spiritual shape, I'll keep enjoying the
dickens out of
whatever and whoever are today.
Think about it. This morning after the birthday before, I got out of
bed, jumped
out of bed, as I do every morning and will in mornings to come, ready to dance
with Susan
and then skip to class, with an invigorating, meaningful, purposeful, and
significant
"yes!" Today, I get to do what I love doing and doing what I love with people
whom I
love.
And, this pre-dawn morning, after a cleansing three mile power walk, I
had the
added pleasure of downing a huge smile-inducing, artery-clogging, caloric
overdosing slice
of Susan's scrumptiously sinful birthday cheese cake.
Make it a good day.
--Louis--
Louis Schmier http://www.therandomthoughts.com
Department of History
http://www.therandomthoughts.edublogs.org
Valdosta State University
Valdosta, Georgia 31698 /\ /\ /\ /\
(229-333-5947) /^\\/ \/ \ /\/\__/\ \/\
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mountains,\ /\
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hills" -
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