On composing new lists

Saturday evening I looked over my journal entries for the last couple of weeks and spotted two themes — one was Jesus, understandable because it was Easter Week and the message of Christ is up close and personal this time of year. The other was along the lines of “I’m tired. I wonder if it’s time to quit.”

I admit I AM tired. It takes a lot longer to do things I would breeze through a long time ago. I decided to step away from the news business in three weeks. Still, that’s mainly so I have more time to follow my other callings. I’m not done, don’t worry — not that I thought you were worried.

I’m retiring after May 19. I’m torn between 1. taking the rest of May off to rest and charging into the future starting June 1, or 2. Charging into the future starting May 20. Knowing me, it will be something between those two thoughts.

I lost a good friend this week, a “pen pal” friend I never met but always intended to visit one of these years. It was on my “maybe after I retire” list — Maybe Mary and I would go out to see him and his lovely wife, and maybe Mary could finally see the Grand Canyon while we’re out in that general direction.

I wrote to myself that maybe Mary and I can still go out to meet my dear friend’s wife, and then I stopped and wrote, “F- – – Maybe. I need to abolish Maybe from my vocabulary. I AM going to put in my last day as a reporter on May 19. I AM going to sell some books and music of my own making, and I AM going to put myself out there like (my friend) did. I AM going to take Mary to see the Grand Canyon, if she’s up for traveling.

“Am I starting to compile a Bucket List?” I wrote. “No, a To-Do List.”

A bucket list, you see, is a list of things you want to do before you die. It feels like a bucket list is focused on the ultimate deadline. A to-do list, on the other hand, is focused on the doing.

I then set my journal down and, instead of doing one of the things I’d been writing about, I lay down for a nap that lasted almost two hours. I did say I am tired.

“Are you really serious?” one might say. “Do you really want to make a mark on the world, or are you just getting ready for your very long nap?” What person is ever fully ready for that particular nap?

I have said that I hope to be in the middle of a bunch of projects when that time comes — a sign that I have remained active and productive to the end. I really do wish I was finishing projects at a more rapid pace as I go along — speaking of familiar themes — and I thought of two projects that I can certainly finish by the end of April, and so watch for a couple of announcements this week.

And I almost said, “so maybe watch for a couple of announcements,” but I resolve not to say the M-word anymore.

Be kind

“In a world where you can be anything, be kind.”

I still remember my brain exploding when I first saw a T-shirt with that slogan on it. Such a simple statement and so brimming with meaning.

The words resonate with those of us fortunate enough to have had mothers who said, “You can be anything you set out to be.” And it’s true: Whatever the world throws at you, you can overcome and reach your goals with persistence and hard work.

But if you set out to be kind, you open up a whole ’nother set of possibilities.

Imagine a world where kindness is a virtue. Of course we’re already in that world, theoretically, but in practice the kind are constantly in danger of being steamrolled. The victory goes to the one who seeks it at all costs, the king of the mountain who races over everyone in his way and dies with the most toys.

What if the victory goes to the one who lends a hand, the one who seeks to lift all boats, the one who cares as much about how he wins as he does about winning itself?

What does it profit a go-getter if they gain the world but lose their soul?

In a world where you can be anything, be kind.

Things to say

I spent my Wednesday and reached the end of the night with things to say and little energy to say them, so I posted a post (“Quit your raging”) from 2019 that I had already reposted in 2022. It bears repeating, but it felt like cheating. (Does an inadvertent rhyme really make me a poet who doesn’t know it?)

When I decided to post every day these hundreds of days ago, I didn’t pledge not to post reruns, I suppose. And, as noted, some things need to be repeated. I even repeat myself on purpose sometimes, albeit using somewhat different arrangements of words.

One of the things that weariness temporarily defeated was that I still find it hard to understand the hatred and invective that have flown through the air willy-nilly throughout the first quarter of the 21st century. “Quit your raging” was one of my more clear expressions of that thought, so it substituted for fresh words.

Like my darling Red before me, I have grown closer to my faith as the reality of my mortality sinks in. (No, I have not received a somber prognosis, just the one we all get: We’re all gonna die.) The founder of my faith boiled it down to two simple laws — love God, and love your neighbor. From those foundations we can extrapolate an entire lifestyle of living in peace and nonviolence with everyone.

In general people want peace, but we create friction with one another by the simple act of interacting, because we are 8 billion unique individuals. For whatever absurd reason, some people spread fear and irrational hatred, gathering other people into groups that blur their unique individuality, and the next thing you know, we are not living in the peace we all want.

Love God, and love your neighbor. Some people are hard to love, especially the ones who are spreading fear and irrational hatred, especially the ones who advocate for war and violence, and perhaps especially those who advocate for war and violence in the name of peace.

That’s why the first of the two laws is key. With so much not to love, sometimes the only way to love your neighbor is under the influence of the God of love, the God who is love itself.

Even 2,000 years ago, tax collectors were considered abhorrent creatures. Even 2,000 years ago hypocrites and adulterers were rampant, and thieves were crucified. But this God incarnate treated them all with respect and, most important, love. He intended to set that example when he proclaimed those two essential laws.

It’s not easy to do. Every day, wherever I turn, hatred and rage are rampant. When we’re honest with ourselves, we realize that we are meeting what we perceive as hatred and rage with a hateful and raging response. “Wait a minute,” I try to tell myself when I want to point out the hatred in another’s eye, “I am supposed to love this person. I’m supposed to love even these people who hate and persecute people who believe as I do.”

It’s a good thing that love is a decision and love is an act, not an emotion, because much as I may want to hate what you say and do, I made a promise to my God to love you, and while I personally may be incapable of giving that love, with God all things are possible.

That’s how to love our neighbors — by loving God first.