How To Be A Neighbor - Another Coffee Metaphor

Coffee that truly represents the farmer’s intentions goes through a careful, intentional process.  You may have seen stickers about direct trade on bags of beans (they are actually cleaned, dried and roasted cherry pits).  The claims these stickers are making refer mostly to treatment of the laborers that harvest and process coffee.  Most of the coffee growing, harvesting and processing... process takes place in parts of the world where employees are not required to pay good wages or offer working conditions that we here in our comfortable country would tolerate.  These are poor countries full of poor people.  The idea, particularly of direct trade is that the coffee buyers such as Stump Town Coffee work directly with the farmers to ensure both good pay and working conditions for laborers.  This is reflected in the cost of their coffee and absorbed by all the shops who serve it.  When you pay a bit more, you are sharing your wealth with those who worked to provide that hot, delicious cup.

There is however, another element of the harvesting process interesting to discuss as a thought provoking metaphor. 

Burn Barrel

His rescuer dragged 

blackened remnants

of last ditch effort 

to the barrel

and stood

with a charred stick

gripped absently.

She pushed down

and down again

into the heat

staring blank

and dry eyed

waiting

for the fire

to rebuild.

Cold Feet

feet on floor

Ah yes, I think I woke up.  At the very least, I can tell that the bottoms of my feet are colder than they should be if they are still ensconced under the covers.  Probably means they are resting on the concrete floor by my bed and I haven’t found my fluffy slippers yet.  I’m not sure this really qualifies as woke up, but it is a great comparison.  I spend so much time upright and moving without being attentive.  I notice this lack of awareness when I’m gently jolted into interest.  I’m embarrassed that I spend so much time like a zombie.  Just moving forward, concerned only with what I will consume next, unaware that what I consume does not nourish.  Why live as a zombie if I’m not dead?

Top 5 things that make you a legit "runner" (besides running)

Running Alone - better or worse?

1.  Tell Injury Stories: 

a.  Find logical places runners congregate.  This can be nearly anywhere except buffet restaurants. 

b.  Look for shoes and race shirts.  

c.  Meander over and stand around in your running gear looking nonchalant.  If running gear is unavailable, try to look like you have a low heart rate and a high VO2 max. 

d.  When congregating occurs, blend in with group and nod sympathetically when they start telling training injury stories.  Don’t worry; you won’t have to wait long for this. 

e.  Now this is a critical move that requires preparation.  It may be best to practice in front of a mirror while recording on your iPod.  When a break comes, chuckle knowingly and launch into your injury story.  Word of caution, you must tell the story as if happened in the distant past.  Whether you say so or not, you must leave story-telling buddies with the impression that you healed and learned from your training mistakes and everything is now back to normal.  In fact you are stronger.  Do not expose current weakness – they are like jackals!  You will be de-legitimized faster than you can open a tube of Gu.

I Ran a Marathon

I ran a marathon.  Rather, it ran over me.  Why people volunteer for such torture, is difficult to explain.  I speak as one of the crazy people who did volunteer.  Though it produced some of the greatest physical discomfort I have ever endured, I would do it again.  I think I will do it again.  Maybe soon.  It hasn’t been that long (3 days) – I’m not ready to make any declarations.  I will do it again for many reasons.  It changed my life.  I will never again be a non-marathoner.  I will never wish I’d run a marathon.  I can stand in a group of skinny, tightly clothed people and nod knowingly.  I have a t-shirt.  Supposedly, we are the 1% (there were signs along the route that said “99% of the population can’t do this, you are the 1%).  I have my own stories of cramps, hills, other runners and murderous preparations.

Interestingly, and I heard this from runners around me on the course also, I don’t agree with the sign.

Shoe Armor

 It’s all about the shoes.  At least for me, this time, the shoes were the critical factor. 

I am a runner.  I am not a fair weather runner.  I am not a competitive runner.  I run to be outside, to pray, to live well, to think clearly and to know that I can run.  I catch myself, sometimes, watching my feet change places rhythmically - hypnotic forward momentum.  It’s amazing to watch my body adapt to longer faster distances.  I love country roads and the frogs croaking, crickets chirping while the trees turn dark against the wide color changing sky.  It makes me chuckle and holler with unbridled, happy energy. 

A while ago, I got a new pair of wrong shoes.

Internal Combustion 2

This is a grave and dangerous game I’m playing.  Trying again, taking on a project with hope that it will be more than it appears on the surface.  I am playing with gas – the risk of excess and failure – while smoking a fat cigar.  I’ve done things like this before and gone too far.  I’ve done them wrong and gotten carried away.  It is my adopted nature to receive a vision and run too fast with it.  Take it outside the bounds of its original intention.  To make it more risky, I’m involving other people, their hearts and healing.  But I know it can be done well.  I keep getting visions.  I can see fleeting pictures of transformation in my head.  I am reckless with my hope. 

Internal Combustion

My heart is damaged.  It is scarred by loss and disappointment.  The scars offer evidence of their presence with every beat in a complicated rhythmic pattern I have yet to keep time with.  I voluntarily gave some of what I’ve lost.  Some, less willingly, I either accepted or still resist.  I expect my off-beat tapping will improve with further acceptance.  My disappointment withers with the realization that what is replacing my losses is far more valuable to me, far more powerful and life giving than what I’ve given up.  This does not eliminate the scars or their pain, it makes them important, gives them a place of significance and hints to poetic lyrics being crafted into music.

Letter To Old Men

Dear Older Men,

We respectfully request the honor of your presence on the battlefield for our lives.  The tactics of the enemy are overwhelmingly successful.  It is evident that there is no longer hope for an immediate solution.  The enemy’s attack requires weaponry we are not sufficiently able to operate.  We are loosing this battle and many more will, according to the score of casualties, be lost by us.  It is now incumbent, upon those who are able and willing, to inspire the survivors and train the untested.  While this must be done with vigor and urgency, we believe it can only be done over time.  Please confirm.

Beginning Earl

A couple 40-something guys...

Earl

Yesterday, I began a partnership with a 38-year-old truck.  My daughter says he is an Earl.  It’s nearly as old as me.  My friend Brant discovered him after someone else found him languishing namelessly in a field, starved of fuel and rusting in the rain.  After working hard to be a benefit for his owner, who recently passed away, Earl found himself on the sidelines with muddy, flat feet and no where to go… Poor Earl.