Paradoxical Commandment #3

I am a Spurs fan.  Always have been.  Though I have made my home in another city for the past 15 years, my hear still beats for the black and silver.  I have always appreciated their poise and character, and have dedicated my basketball fandom to the Spurs for all time.

There are those who hate the Spurs as much as I love them.  They see the organization as an upstart, broadcasting their team-first mentality in a sport full of me-first players.  The decry the lack of heroics, they complain about the lack of a flashy superstar, and they loathe the absence of drama surrounding the humble Spurs.

So, we arrive at the third Paradoxical Commandment:

If you are successful, you will win false friends and true enemies. Succeed anyway.

The Spurs have found plenty of true enemies, though I have not encountered many I would describe as false friends (fans); I am sure they are out there.  Plenty of other successful NBA organizations have gathered false friends (I can visualize the flood of fans fleeing the Lakers bandwagon at the moment), and I count myself among the true enemies of such teams as the Lakers, the Mavericks, and the Jazz (I am shaking my fist at you, Karl Malone).

Have the complaints about the Spurs’ style stopped them from pursuing excellence on their terms?  No.  They believe in their formula and execute it to the best of their abilities, turning deaf ears towards their critics.  Their success has lead the Spurs organization to consistently rank at the top of the four major sports in the US.

Yes, this is Teen Wolf.  The original.  They
wanted the wolf.  He gave them a win.

We have all seen the movie where the hero stumbles as success goes to their head.  The false friends abandon them and the true enemies revel in their failure.  The story never ends there, though.  The hero gets back up, believing in the possibility of success, and tries again, achieving their goal no matter what it takes. 

We all have the choice.  Succumb to those around us or go out and find your success.  Find it no matter who follows in your wake.  Success is worth it.

- I first encountered an adapted version of the “Paradoxical Commandments,” titled “The Final Analysis,” while listening to a Wayne Dyer audio CD in my early twenties.  The meaning and message struck me as true, helping guide my thoughts and actions as I developed from a big kid into a real adult.  Later, I discovered the poem was not actually written by Mother Theresa at all, but adapted, framed, and hung on the wall in her Calcutta orphanage.  She cared about its message enough to use it to empower the weak and marginalized children to whom she gave her life.

The Paradoxical Commandments are reprinted with permission.  © Copyright Kent M. Keith 1968, renewed 2001

Paradoxical Commandment #2

People often assume the worst of others.  We judge too quickly, assigning motive to actions with little to no information.  Then, when true facts arrive, the unfortunate strength contained within first impressions cements our original impressions despite evidence to the contrary.  Conversely, the same actions affect other people’s view towards us.

Dr. Kent M. Keith’s second Paradoxical Commandment stands to battle the reality of the above paragraph.

If you do good, people will accuse you of selfish ulterior motives.  Do good anyway.

The definition of “good” fluctuates based on perspective.  What I perceive as good may not be the same as you.  People with shared cultural values tend to believe in similar “good,” but not always.  Just take a look at the political landscape of the last few years.  Though Republicans and Democrats claim to work towards the highest good for our country, they quickly decry anything the other party presents as “good” for the country, accusing each other of selfish and ulterior motives.

The same can be seen on platforms as immense as the geopolitical landscape or as tiny as inter-office politics.  The human inclination towards distrust clouds our judgement.  Dr. Keith suggests ignoring negative opinion, or at the very least acknowledging and summarily dismissing its existence, continuing with actions in which we find inherent goodness.

This commandment contains two powerful suggestions - do good no matter what, and don't worry about what other people think.  Acting in this spirit helps to move you forward on solid footing.

I believe in the contagion of good actions.  Good breeds good.  One good turn deserves another.  Pay it forward.  No matter the collection of words, the intent and meaning carries truth and power.  Despite how others may view your actions, and no matter the size, the inherent truth and goodness contained within infects others.  Soon, through consistent good action, your life changes.  You become contagious.  You infect others.  Goodness spreads.  The disease others decried as self-serving becomes the norm instead of the oddity.

Remember, it is none of your business what other people think about you.  All it takes is one action to kickstart it all.


- I first encountered an adapted version of the “Paradoxical Commandments,” titled “The Final Analysis,” while listening to a Wayne Dyer audio CD in my early twenties.  The meaning and message struck me as true, helping guide my thoughts and actions as I developed from a big kid into a real adult.  Later, I discovered the poem was not actually written by Mother Theresa at all, but adapted, framed, and hung on the wall in her Calcutta orphanage.  She cared about its message enough to use it to empower the weak and marginalized children to whom she gave her life.

The Paradoxical Commandments are reprinted with permission.  © Copyright Kent M. Keith 1968, renewed 2001

Paradoxical Commandment #1

Words have always had power over me.  Crafted correctly, hammered together in creative ways, they illuminate this experience we call life.  Written or spoken, powerful words have always moved the human race.  Over the next weeks, I will explore a collection of words that have guided me for the past decade.

Dr. Kent M. Keith penned “The Paradoxical Commandments” in 1968 as part of a pamphlet titled The Silent Revolution: Dynamic Leadership in the Student Council.  Dr. Keith, at the time a 19 year old sophomore at Harvard, sought to empower the rebellious youth of the ‘60s by offering an alternative to violence by creating change within the system.  He echoes the sentiment found in the paraphrased words often attributed to Mohandas Gandhi - “Be the change you want to see in the world.”

This week, I dwell on the first commandment, quite possibly the most frustrating of the ten for me.

People are illogical, unreasonable, and self-centered. Love them anyway.

Right away, the difficulty stands out.  I encountered this problem more as a public school teacher than I have at any other point in my life.  Each student arrives carrying their own baggage, every parent their own perceptions, and every colleague their own agenda.  Schools lie at the epicenter of our culture, sending wave after wave of students into the world, reflections of the people they encountered in their youth.  Those waves have the power to destroy.  They also have the power build.

Not me.  I am not that pretty.

I live in an auto-centric city; we drive everywhere.  Of course I have cursed other drivers for their illogical, unreasonable, and self-centered decisions while behind the wheel.  The road offers a great education in the first commandment.  Finding the patience, the resolve, and the commitment to allow others to drive how they will, without growing angry, breeds a sense of peace in the rest of our lives.  

Does this make you mad?  Does it surprise you?

Are you surprised when the sky is blue?  You know what to expect when you step from your home and look up, so why be surprised?  The same is true for people.  Why do we allow what we already know about other people to affect us?

Ultimately, the most profound aspect of the first commandment lies within its simplicity.  We know people are illogical, unreasonable, and self-centered.  We KNOW it.  So, why do we respond with anything other than love?

Accept what you already know to be true.  People are illogical, unreasonable, and self-centered.  Why give them the power to dictate your moods, your feelings, and your actions?  Reserve the power for yourself.  Follow the first commandment and choose to love them instead.

I don’t always consider myself successful in my attempts to live by the first commandment.  Certain people press buttons more than others.  Driving always offers opportunities to practice love.  Strangers who leave shopping carts in the middle of parking lots test my strength.  But, despite every temptation towards an angry, negative response, I strive to hold tightly to the spirit of the first paradoxical commandment.  I am a person who loves first, no matter the situation.  Every day in which I practice this belief leads me closer to living a life in which it is absolutely and permanently true.

- I first encountered an adapted version of the “Paradoxical Commandments,” titled “The Final Analysis,” while listening to a Wayne Dyer audio CD in my early twenties.  The meaning and message struck me as true, helping guide my thoughts and actions as I developed from a big kid into a real adult.  Later, I discovered the poem was not actually written by Mother Theresa at all, but adapted, framed, and hung on the wall in her Calcutta orphanage.  She cared about its message enough to use it to empower the weak and marginalized children to whom she gave her life.

The Paradoxical Commandments are reprinted with permission.  © Copyright Kent M. Keith 1968, renewed 2001

Step One

You might have noticed my absence from the blogosphere for the last few weeks.  As March rolled on, I made a decision to actually finish first draft of the novel.  Instead of using my morning time to blog the last few weeks, I used it to write my novel.  On Easter Sunday, I finally completed one of the first steps of a project that has stretched eight years now.  With 92,418 words spread over 476 double-spaced pages, the first draft is complete.  I will make content edits next, then move to proofing.  I am excited to move on in the project and start a few more.  I plan on completing two more novels this year while submitting this work to agents and publishers.  Wish me luck!  If you are interested in reading the opening chapter, I have posted it here.  Enjoy!  Now, on to today’s blog.

Sometimes in our lives, we fail to believe in something until we have proof.  Though many of our lives our built on some sort of faith in larger ideals, when it comes to smaller, personal ideas, skepticism rules the day.  As a writer, I have experienced this sort of faith challenge for a long time.

I have always held the idea of “Frank Chambers - author” close to my heart.  In High School and college, I channeled my words through poetry, usually the tortured heart type as I struggled to understand both the pain and joy of finding love.  Interestingly enough, my painful poetry dried up not long after I met my wife, leaving my writing whimsically descriptive and metaphysically introspective (click for some less tortured examples).

In 2004, after returning from performing in London for a time, I faced a decision about my future.  Writing remained my passion, though I did not write at the time.  So, in order to fuel the fire, I enrolled in post-baccalaureate English classes.  I figured an English degree would help me feel like a writer.  

Unfortunately, during my first semester back, I faced the first of many internal hurdles.  Instead of following through with that path, I chose to fall back on what I knew I did well - music.  I reasoned that I could earn my teaching certificate, teach band for money, and write at the same time.  Since my certificate would take two years of classes to earn, I might as well get my Masters in Performance at the same time.

Where is the time to write in all of that?  Exactly.  I succumbed to my own personal skepticism, failing to trust in myself and my dreams.

So, fast forward to 2005.  I got married.  I scratched down some notes on a story idea called the Lone Procession, but didn’t do much with it.  

In 2006 I graduated with my Masters and teaching certificate and started teaching high school band.  The plan commenced.  The writing did not.  Those readers who teach band understand the lack of free time, or energy to write when free time occurs.

In 2008, I realized four years had passed.  I hadn’t done a thing.  Writer?  Nope.  Unless I planned on abandoning my supposed passion, I had better get moving.  I resumed making notes on the Lone Procession.  I spent many a night in creative avoidance, performing “research” on how to write.  Finally, I wrote a chapter that is now the prologue.

So in 2010, again realizing how much time had passed since I decided to write, I came across a very simple statement.  The first step to being a writer is to write.  Duh!  Without active writing, I am just a dreamer, an idea factory sitting idle.  The universe smacked me in the face, placed the paddles on my chest, yelled “Clear!” and shocked me back to life.  I began my blog.  I wrote.  

In 2011, I changed my career to free up time to write, taking faith steps I should have been strong enough to take in 2004.  I started transforming The Lone Procession into a novel.

The question of when to refer to myself as a writer still plagues me.  I am not a published author yet, but does being published grant me the title?  Is there a graduation from amateur to professional?  No.  I am a writer because I write.  It remains as simple as that.  I write a blog.  I have completed a novel.  Despite knowing this, the internal skeptic still cringes when Samantha refers to me as an author.

Now, I sit here writing, still doubtful, still scared, still mildly skeptical.  My belief barrier has taken some blows; it leans a little crookedly, the light hiding behind it shining through new cracks.  I have taken step one though, and while I still find embracing full belief challenging, step two looks much easier than it did before.  All it took was one step.

Taken out of Context

Samantha and I had the pleasure of visiting the great city of New Orleans over this spring break.  Despite battling through a sinus infection (Samantha) and some sort of throat nastiness (me), and being the least partying people in the French Quarter (in bed by 10:30), we had a great time experiencing the sights and sounds of the Crescent City.  

One of the unexpected gems during our brief vacation was the Voodoo Tour.  We made reservations with Tree (yes, his name) of Racontours, billed on Tripadvisor as the number one tour in the French Quarter.  While occasionally a bit of a rogue, Tree’s colorful character danced our small group through the French Quarter, delighting us with the rich history of the former French and Spanish colonial periods.

I expected a New Orleans Voodoo Tour to aggrandize the stereotypes associated with the practice.  I anticipated bloody stories of animal and human sacrifices, of voodoo dolls and their unassuming victims, of black magic and demons.  I was wrong.  So many of my assumptions fell flat, no more than uninformed drivel handed to me by pop culture.

Voodoo at its roots worships ancestral spirits.  Certain spirits have gained a reputation for answering particular prayers, and those have gained more of a following than others.  Voodoo dolls are a way of inviting healing powers and luck into your life.  They can also be used as a way to extrinsically work out personal grudges without bringing actual harm to others.     

Louisiana Voodoo adopted many Catholic elements in the 1800s through the teachings of Voodoo Queen Marie Laveau.  A devout Catholic herself, Laveau drew her Voodoo followers into the church by drawing comparisons between the Voodoo’s spirits and the Cult of the Saints.  The Voodoo spirit of Legba fulfilled the same role as St. Peter - holding the keys to heaven.  Aida Wedo and the Blessed Virgin, Ghèdè and St. Expeditè, Ogun and St. Jude, all merged.  Marie Laveau taught that they were expressions of the same forces, the same spirits, and praying to one would mean praying to the other.

Taken out of context, glorified for entertainment value, Voodoo makes for good horror.  At its core, practiced in its intended form, Voodoo expresses an adapted version of an ancient tradition passed down by word-of-mouth through many generations by people struggling to live through more hardship than you or I could imagine.  Essentially, Voodoo helps people to find spiritual healing through prayer and meditation.  While its practices may appear foreign, its goals strike me as similar to every major religion I know.

Christianity taken out of context could look equally as ridiculous as Voodoo’s pop culture portrayal.  Masses of people who once a week grow hungry for the blood and flesh of their creator, who incidentally is now undead.  Zombies and Vampires?  Believe me, I don’t make this point to ridicule anyone’s beliefs, but I think the point is valid.  When taken out of context, just about anything can sound malevolent.

If you find yourself in New Orleans with four or five hours to spare, jump on the Voodoo Tour with Tree.  Besides a good time with an entertaining guide, the history of the Voodoo world will unfold before your eyes in a very enlightening way.

Suffer the Children a Robotic Rhino

At this time of year, it is not hard to recall the message of Jesus Christ.  While the overly commercialized Christmas season fades in our rearview mirror, Easter rapidly approaches, still mostly safe from the industrial gift-giving machine (mostly).  Yet, in some corners, the everyday commercialization of the Word commences with seemingly unabashed fervor.

Cornerstone Church in San Antonio recently opened its newest building - a $5 million children’s center called the Ark.  Designed after the story of Noah and the Ark, the new building is meant to attract young people to the church.  You can read the news story here.

Church members expect their leaders to responsibly spend their donations.  Appropriate stewardship should lead to church growth, spreading Christ’s message of love, sacrifice, and redemption.  An innovative pastorate crafts a message that resonates in the hearts and souls of its flock.  Children come to Christ through the Word and His calling.

While the design for the Ark is innovative and intended to capture the minds of children, and I do respect their creativity, I question the decision to aim for over the top extravagance.  Included in the building are sixteen life-size Ark passengers - nine of which are animatronics built by Hollywood company Animal Makers.  The rhino actually appeared in the movie “2012.”  

When asked whether or not the animatronics were too extravagant, Executive Pastor Matthew Hagee’s answer raised my eyebrows:  “If casinos can build opulent buildings to incentivize gamblers to want to come and enjoy their weekend, how then can you justify not building something that would incentivize people to come and hear about the Word of God?”

I am sure Jesus would appreciate the comparison between Sin City and a house of God.  In fact, by returning to the source and consulting the Son of Man himself, it would seem that I missed the animatronic Giraffe standing behind Jesus during the Sermon on the Mount; I lost it in the small print.  Oh, and a corrected translation of the New Testament reveals that it wasn’t Jesus who over turned the money changers’ tables at the temple - it was an animatronic Rhino.

Humor aside, my point is this.  Given the right collection of messages, a pastorate who teaches parents how to lead their homes, and an appropriate learning environment, there should be no problem guiding children to Christ.  Rather than spending money on unnecessary expenditures, raise money to help people who need it.

Mr. Hagee even acknowledged the extravagance: “I don’t have any problem with somebody saying it’s over the top.”  

You know who might agree with Mr. Hagee?  The more than 500 homeless children in the San Antonio area documented as of November 2012 by SAMMinistries.  

What would make a larger Christ-like impact on a child’s life?  Knowing animatronics wait for you at church?  Or, knowing that a Christian organization gave you a home out of the goodness of their heart.  

I think I know which one Jesus would choose.

Grill on Fire

I love to cook.  I hate to clean.  I will grudgingly clean my messes after I make them, and have recently learned to clean as I cook, which saves time in the end, but I still hate it.  Needless to say, aside from the grate, I have not cleaned my gas grill in more than a year.  Unfortunately, after all that time, the greasy build up is volatile, waiting for the right moment to ignite.

Have you ever looked down into the guts of your grill and seen the nastiness waiting below?  I use my grill frequently, and so I had more than a year of melted fat, carbonized grease, and mildly burnt meat parts, all built into a thick layer of detritus coating the bottom.  The way my grill is built, I would have to mildly exert myself to see the bottom - very mildly; the grates and the heat diffusers partially block the view.  And, I would have to be motivated to acknowledge how disgusting it is.  The grossness just gathers, fuel for a future fire.

I think the same can be said about ourselves.  If we looked deep inside, would we see the leavings of arguments unresolved, family and friend drama, social opinions we aren’t sure we really believe anymore?  These are all the elements of yesterday’s version of us.  As we grow and move towards who we are, we leave the remnants of who we were behind.  Sometimes, these little bits are just as flammable as the nast collected at the bottom of my grill.  The longer we ignore them, the more potent they become.

One of my menu items for this week was Teriyaki Chicken.  I use a recipe from my Dad, picked up from when we lived in Hawaii.  The recipe is simple.  Combine soy sauce, a homemade weak simple syrup, white onion, ginger, and garlic into a marinade.  Marinate chicken thighs and drumsticks overnight.  Grill.  Be prepared for flareups from melting chicken fat and dripping juice (the sugar).

I was ready to go.  I had my tongs for turning the chicken after eight minutes.  I had my timer.  I had my spray bottle for squirting the flareups.  I put the chicken on.

We are usually ready for personal flareups.  We know how to put out small fires and handle small dramas life throws at us.  Every once in a while a larger piece of our past catches on fire, but we deal with these as they come.  We don’t think about everything else lining the bottom, waiting for the big explosion.

The small flames are expected and manageable.  With a squirt here or a squirt there, I put out the fires quickly.  If they flare up too much, I move the piece of chicken.  This particular batch seemed to flare up quite vigorously, so I moved the chicken into the open spots between heat diffusers.  The grease and fat still dripped, but it fell in the depths of the grill instead of onto the diffusers right below.  Any flareups would be away from the chicken and wouldn’t lead to charred meat.  Smart right?

Well, this plan, while seeming intelligent at the time, didn’t end up that way.  See, the chicken still dripped.  And there were still some flareup on the grate and on the diffusers, just not as many.  And I still sprayed them with the squirt bottle.  And the water from the squirt bottle would scatter the flaming grease, knocking it to the bottom.  Where it would land on freshly dripped grease.  Where it would flare.  And ignite a year’s worth of fuel.

Have you ever seen a grease fire?  It is quite magnificent.  The way it ignores water as if it isn’t even there.  The way it just bigger as it finds more fuel, burning through a year of my laziness.

I have seen some spectacular meltdowns in my life and participated in a few.  People who haven’t dealt with their own issues, burying them deep below the surface, hoping they won’t ever ignite again.  I can remember doing the same thing beforehand.  Leaving them there, ignoring the need for a resolution, creates a flammable situation, sure to explode some point down the road.  

After emptying my squirt bottle to no effect, I ran inside and grabbed the baking soda and dumped it on the flames.  It wasn’t enough.  Thankfully, we had a second box and I doused the remaining flames with the white powder.  My hand has now been forced.  If I plan to use my grill again, I have to clean it.  

We can never plan for the explosion, preparing before hand to manage it.  All we can do is deal with it when it arrives.  Avoid burying issues; deal with them instead.  Look deep, clean out the garbage, take care of yourself.  Avoid the fire before it happens.

About my meal?  Don’t worry.  I took the chicken off before putting out the fire.  It was delicious