Birthday Questions

June 1, 2020

Greetings from the seeker,

It has been an unusual time, one with unprecedented challenges and strange new experiences.  Whenever I become overwhelmed with the world, it helps for me to simplify by starting with what is right in front of me.

This morning I lined up some questions.  I had accumulated them over the last week, ticking off the last few days before my birthday, which the calendar was kind enough to place at the top of this page.  The questions are not perfect, which is fine because my answers are not, but it has given me a stage to begin.

I’m sharing the questions, and some of my answers, my own examination of the time since the sun last lit up the first of June.  In fact, as I wrote the answers this week I felt self-conscious about all of this.  I set it aside until this morning and then just shuffled the deck and dealt them out.  I want it to be encouraging, not a list of what I think, but to create room for you to fill in what you think.  So, here we are:

What have you hoped for?

When I wrote down my answers, they began with what I wanted to see in the world.  All manner of changes, some poured out of me in the light of the pandemic, and the political divides, and this week’s tragic headlines.  By the way, I could have written those sentences on any birthday.  It is a beautiful and broken world, and that has been true since Eden. 

But Tolstoy reminded me; “Everyone thinks of changing the world, but no one thinks to change themselves.”  Hope is not just aimed at change, but the feeling is often paired with that desire.  You see what life has offered, and perhaps what could be, and what wells up next is often hope, the anticipation of what is possible.

I try not to think of hoping and wishing in the same way.  Wishing feels like waiting for some magic beans or the lottery to make things better.  Hope can create thinking that leads to action.  It is part of our will.  Hope’s companion is optimism, and both are welcome in my thoughts.

I hoped for satisfying work, for time to be creative, for love, for clear skies.  I hoped my children would be well, would have lasting friends, would create rich, rewarding lives.  I hoped for chocolate cake. 

I hoped for fairness.  Peace.  Health. Kindness.  Humility.  This is an easy list to write out, but harder to make part of every act in my day.  And still, I am hopeful.

What have you learned?

Asking someone what they have learned is an ambitious question.  I am a little embarrassed answering it myself.  Trying to see a year’s worth of things I learned is daunting, first because of my porous memory and then second because the results are so meager. 

I have carried this question around for the last couple weeks, asking people to think about what lasting thing they learned during the pandemic, when so many people were trapped at home, and dealing with the world in this new way.  The answers have made me curious and inspired, humbled and encouraged. 

A few things I wrote in my own answers, some of which were things I knew but relearned:

The clock is ticking.

Never underestimate the day. 

Disappointed does not mean discouraged, doesn’t mean defeated.

The ache and the joy are often wound in the same roots.

Don’t listen to the voice that tells you to fail.

I learned about my own limitations, failures, and saw some in others around me.  Those are hard things to absorb, but learning one thing does not make it all things. 

I learned practical things, including how to change a tire, how to use Zoom, how to snake a drain tile.  I learned about human’s nearly boundless capacities.  I learned that for every narrow minded, hateful person, there are countless others redeeming humanity.  I learned that patience is a skill that must be practiced, honed, so that when we need it we are capable.

What have you done? 

This is a compelling question because it wants action.  It convicts you as you answer. Here I wandered between lining up accomplishments, some kind of scorecard, and seeing what significance my time produced.  It is a mirror that is hard to look at directly.

I have run more than a few miles, some for my own pleasure, some for a purpose.  I have read excellent books, and a few bad ones.  I ate good food, discovered new tastes.  I prowled the streets of Nashville led only by smell, perched on the edge of the Pacific and marveled at tiny crustaceans.  I helped someone who needed it.  I loved.

I wrote here, every single Monday.  I wrote elsewhere, still a path that waits for me to follow.  I have taught, mentored, led.  I have studied, faltered, overcome.  I have done a few things that I hoped for, I have learned a few things I hoped to learn.

There are more important questions to ask ourselves, and I expect those will come.  I put these here as a bookmark for me, and for you if you want.  At the edge of my new year I might ask myself: What do you hope for?  What will you learn?  What will you do?

I am alive this morning to celebrate an exceptional life.  I can say this because I didn’t create it, I simply exist in it, adding what little I can to the mosaic.   These questions, and the answers they may lead to, are my gift to myself.  Armed with these, and perhaps some chocolate cake, I will make this a day worth adding to all of the days I’m given.

Hope this finds you seeking,

David

Copyright © 2020 David Smith