Mind to Heart to Mind


Whatever your heart clings to and confides in, that is really your God
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                                                                                                                                   Martin Luther

Abraham, the patriarchal figure of ancient times, was not Jewish. He was Chaldean. Jesus was a Jewish teacher and Rabbi, but it was years after his death before his followers were first called Christians. Martin Luther, a devout 16th Century Roman Catholic monk, became the seminal figure of the 17th Century Protestant Reformation.  John Wesley, though a founder of the Methodist movement, was actually an Anglican (Episcopal) priest. The mission of these men and others was not to create new religious denominations; they were reforming the doctrines of their already existing life-long religion. In the early 16th Century Martin Luther translated the Holy Bible from St. Jerome’s 4th Century Latin Vulgate into a vernacular German language which was more readable for the public. The first complete Bible translation into English was the Coverdale Bible of 1535. It is no exaggeration to predict large amounts of conflict will result for one who takes a position on the topic of Bible translation accuracy. There is so much controversy over translation authenticity, the best course of action is to study the subject yourself, then follow your own heart. In any serious topic, the subject of Bible translation included, the word heart gets my attention. The writers of religious texts curiously use that word heart in many different ways. Translators see it in one language, then struggle to discern the authors’ intent as they choose the word to use in the second language.

For example, quoting Abraham in the King James Version  (KJV) of Genesis (verse 17:17) he is said to have…     “laughed, and said in his heart, ‘Shall a child be born unto him that is an hundred years old?’” 

But both the New Revised Standard Version (NRSV) and the New International Version (NIV) of that same verse read, “…laughed, and said to himself, ‘Can a child be born to a man who is a hundred years old?’”

Other comparisons from the King James (left) to the      NIV or NRSV (right) follow:

 Ge v 20:5      integrity of the heart                      =>                  clear conscience   

 Ex v 35:35  filled with wisdom of heart           =>                filled them with skill

 Pr  v 8:5      be ye of an understanding heart =>               acquire intelligence

 Pr  v 14:30  a sound heart is the life                   =>                a heart at peace gives life

 Pr  v 14:30  a sound heart is the life                    =>               tranquil mind gives life

 Ec v 1:17      gave my heart to know wisdom    => 

.                                                         applied myself to the understanding  of wisdom

 Ec v 1:17     gave my heart to know wisdom     =>

.                                                                                    applied my mind to know wisdom

 Ec v  8:16 applied my heart to know wisdom  =>

.                                                                                            applied my mind to know wisdom

Are the words heart and mind synonyms? The words are different. From the examples above, integrity of the heart in one version is translated clear conscience in another; wisdom of heart is translated skill. Does wisdom of the heart mean the same as skill to youA reader might perceive the authors’ intentions quite differently based upon the translator’s choices, but at the same time, one can see the context connection. The meaning often does depend on context, and on the perception and life experience of both the translator and the reader. How did someone who “gave my heart to know wisdom” actually do that? “Did they “apply their mind…” in some reasonable way?  Probably so, but two people who are attempting to document a firm, dogmatic rule from a verse that varies from translation to translation could write those rules such that they are read and understood (or misunderstood) quite differently. The best advice? Be aware of the way words can work; it is a concept worth thinking about before strongly committing opinions.

The word  heart  is often used to represent many different concepts. To name a few: wisdom, compassion, intuition, creativity, conscience, motive, emotion, instinct, integrity, intelligence, memory, knowledge, mind and soul, etc. There are almost one thousand appearances of the word heart in the Bible, most of which were represented ‘as is’ by English translators, but many of which were not. Those differences reflect the complexity of the translators’ responsibility to represent what they believe the author’s intention was in one language, and what it means to them in the other.

The common ground for these seemingly diverse meanings of the single word heart seems to be a consistent reference to a type of unique core source of wisdom found in the human person.

The Core

During a visit to central India in 2017, I met or observed countless people. I was pleasantly surprised to learn how respectfully they treated each other. Although the roads were noisy and crowded with vehicles, camels, oxen, sheep and school children in uniform, everyone I observed was polite and patient with everyone else. It was the same story on the sidewalks and in the shops. I have been in crowded cities in Haiti, the Philippines and Europe. I’ve lived in Boston and New York City – need I say more? The Indian culture, ethos and moods were noticeably different. Yes, as an elderly foreigner with white hair and fair skin it was be hard to be unnoticed, but I had many opportunities to observe local people from a distance. Despite the age group or economic level, they demonstrated obvious mutual respect as they interacted with each other. I wondered what gave their society such pleasing and public maturity. Was the fact that the vast majority of people there were Hindu a factor?

Christian, Hindu, Buddhist

Raimon Panikkar was a holy man of our time who, as his name reveals, was born to a Spanish mother and Indian father. It’s not surprising to learn that Raimon has a heart for understanding the Christian and Hindu theological philosophies of each of his parents. Growing up north of Barcelona, he then earned a doctorate in chemistry, studied at seminary, became a Jesuit priest and after a trip to India at age 35 is reported to have said, “I left as a Christian, discovered I was a Hindu and returned as a Buddhist, without ever having ceased being a Christian.”  A statement like that from any serious person gets my attention. I became further attracted to his work by the title of one of his books, The Unknown Christ of Hinduism, written way back in the ’1960’s.

Jesus is the most impressive human being I have studied. I would have loved being with him during those few years of his earthly ministry because I have come to believe he would have been not only an astounding mentor and first-hand source of wisdom, but also a most enjoyable and genuine friend. He was more than just a religious teacher; he understood people. Writers from that era lacked adequate vocabulary to describe his deep understanding of human psychology, and Jesus himself used parable stories to communicate new, yet universal concepts to those historic, dogmatic minds. Folks seem to forget that Christ is not his last name. Jesus’ grasp of the cosmic, universal and eternal Christ became his earthly life and our model for living beyond selfish fear, greed or cunning manipulation as well. His example was to demonstrate a life of connecting unselfishly and genuinely to others, and for living to the fullest. The “Unknown Christ” of Dr. Panikkar’s book represents the heart level transformation of human consciousness available to all people, irrespective of and often unrelated to religious backgrounds.

 The ancient word for heart is cor from which we get our word, core. An ocean of wisdom is available to humans, to be found more at the level of heart than mind. I think that’s what the phrase “made in the image of God” refers to. We have access to a deeper mind by quieting the conscious mind once in a while with meditation breaks. Meditation does not refer to some kind of extra-intense prayer effort; it doesn’t imply effort at all. Nor does meditation necessarily refer to any Eastern religious practice. Meditation trains the busy mind to relax its constant train of thoughts for a few minutes several times each day, which eventually opens the path to deeper wisdom. The cumulative effect of a daily meditation practice makes that access easier over time, the way repeated exercise eases the lifting tasks of our physical muscles. There, in the heart, lies the wellspring of creativity, compassion, patience, justice. Once we have access to this universal wisdom, we experience these and other original heart concepts such as forgiveness, overt generosity, and freedom from resentments, righteous anger, etc., etc., Though seeming illogical due to cultural habit, these renewed heart characteristics are nonetheless beneficial to finding the more abundant life. We learn from wisdom to make wise decisions.

 

As Blaise Pascal said,  The heart has its reasons of which reason knows nothing.   

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Heart to Mind

While walking through the Museum of Science in Boston a few years back, my young children and I came across a small sign located out of the way, off to one side. It was dimly lit but its font was surprisingly easy to read. It displayed this admonition:

    “Above all else, guard your heart, for it is the wellspring of life.     Proverbs 4:23

It was a short sentence and in an obscure location for sure. But it struck me with its simple significance. Above all else ? … everything?  the highest priority. . .  guard, from root word meaning, to ward  wellspring, an original and bountiful source or, according to Merriam Webster, “a source of continual supply.” Yes. Guard the heart; ward off dangers, keep it unencumbered, allow it to offer its connection to things that bring fuller life. I liked that modest sign and its proverb and have thought about in many circumstances over the years. There have been times when ‘abundance of life’ seemed elusive, causing me to wonder, “…is that wellspring real? Is it still open and flowing?”

The word heart can represent the physical muscle that pumps blood or, the “heart of hearts” that  C.S. Lewis liked to write about or, the “heart of a matter” as folks will say when identifying the root of an important issue. In each case, the word is used to depict the very core of something. (The root Latin word for heart is cor.)  The heart is the deep center, the place where the source is found. Sometimes a person will have a strong opinion about something, but then with more time and experience, and reflection on the matter, they have “a change of heart.” Life requires change in order to bring about continuous improvement year after year, but we don’t change beliefs casually. Since we tend to “see” things more clearly with experience and maturity, a change of heart now and then, guided by unhurried meditation and prayer, is a good idea. It helps insure the accuracy and authenticity of one’s core beliefs. So making careful “changes of heart” occasionally is also a process of “guarding the heart,” to help keep it free from clutter and danger.

Relaxing a busy mind for a few minutes reconnects the mind with the heart. Much like computers that require cleansing of left over data by means of a reboot or by having their disks “defragged” once in a while, the human mind deserves to be freed from the residue of vast amount of thought that lingers from so many choices, stresses, emotions and appeals over periods of time. Sitting quietly, while encouraging any thoughts that try to assert themselves to just float on by, is what I call meditation and prayer. Call it what you will, but don’t make it into a religion. Just allow that powerful, busy mind of yours to sink into a mode of natural resting, allowing your deeper heart mind to realign, re-balance, refresh. Just as we physically require rest and sleep to allow various body systems to reach homeostasis, clearing a crowded mind of recent thoughts and slowing down the rate of breathing for a few minutes two or three times a day serves to rebalance body chemistry and refresh the conscious mind. Calming the mind’s activity this way allows valuable heart characteristics such as imagination, creativity, compassion, appreciation, intuition, etc., a chance to regain their intended priority so they can emerge when needed later.

A discipline of meditation has practical benefits. Students who spend just a few minutes clearing their minds this way before an important exam have been shown to perform better. Countless health studies have demonstrated measurable and repeatable improvements from disease from epigenetic body chemistry activity that accompanies calming practices such as these. In my own struggles with gnarly career issues over the years, I often experienced much appreciated clarity of mind after pausing for a few minutes to give myself a ‘thought break’ while breathing some fresh air. This simple practice can serve us well.

Our culture has elevated the value of the mind. Despite its reputation for enormous capability, the mind also produces a lot of  ludicrous thoughts. Allowing it to rest for a few minutes has appreciable benefit with no real downside. Yes; it’s a good idea to guard the heart to permit it to contribute from its source of abundance. Check in here at hamiltonstation.org again later this month for a sequel article about the nature of the heart as seen from the perspective of religion.        

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Dying: an Important Part of Life

In the months following a metastatic cancer diagnosis, anxious thoughts interjected themselves into my mind every five minutes of the day. The reality of unwanted weakness, joint pain and insomnia from chemotherapy demanded attention. Looking back, I willingly admit: the difficulties had value. I had to grieve the loss of familiar foods, favorite clothes, an enjoyable job and some routine activities. I had to consider my immortality. But now I am glad for those inconveniences, because the whole scary process kept bringing me back to face an ego that could no longer maintain its denials and inflated status. It finally had to surrender, allowing the coexisting, more authentic, “real me” to surface and occupy the driver’s seat of my person.

Reflecting on the larger reality and question of  human existence as if being viewed from a far away galaxy and, driven by the process of accepting my mortality, philosophies that had been mysteries to me as a young adult started to gain new clarity. The old view, from an ego position, had limited my understanding to a very, very small portion of the big picture. After facing my condition it occurred to me that the Creator of the vast universe into which we humans are born had a sequence in mind that started with the creation of planets and stars. The solar system was delicately designed with earth planet having just the right conditions for human life, long before human life emerged. It would be irrational, I decided, for the Creator to provide all of that, across so many eons, to give humans a place to live for such a tiny ‘moment’ in that big project, just to have it all end when they die.

The process reminds me of the space shuttle where a sophisticated rocket is designed, constructed, tested and launched for the purpose of delivering an enormously valuable payload into orbit. It took centuries of research and experimentation to bring that first lunar rocket to a Cape Canaveral launch pad, but for what?   …just to have a short flight during which the large booster section lights up the sky for a few minutes, only to fall uselessly into the sea? No, not at all. Compared to the mission history, that booster rocket’s life is a fleeting moment, but a moment necessary to allow the payload to escape the pull of gravity. The “lifetime” of the payload gives testimony to complex, long-standing work performed prior to the flight from earth, to the flight itself during which fuel is constantly diminished from fighting gravity, and to the adventurous destination too, as it finds its intended orbit. If the payload is to arrive at the destination, it can not cling to the booster section; it must completely break away and travel in space alone to guarantee success.

It seems God has a similar design for “human life.” We humans are created from dust, then “launched” at birth into our temporary position on this planet, then occupy adult bodies for a few short decades as participating observers of His plan. We learn, often the ‘hard way’ it seems, the value of relationship, authority, quality and priorities. We comprehend Jesus’ description of rebirth, accepting his offer to transition our consciousness from ego to soul, created in His image, eventually without need for a body. 

English burial services often include the saying, derived from the Bible’s Genesis 3:19, Ashes to ashes and dust to dust. I have been aware of the fact that all bodies return to dust from the time I was just a tyke, hiking with my dad who explained what would happen to a dead bird we came across. However, it did not occur to me then that all living things on this earthly life are simultaneously dying. 

Yes, death as we talk about it (or perhaps don’t talk about it) is an important part of life. It is a necessary factor in the sequence that reaches far before birth, yet also far ahead, into God’s eternal kingdom, “on earth, as it is in heaven.”

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Life can only be understood backwards; but it must be lived forwards.”     Soren Kierkegaard
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Rank and Experience

When the US Navy commissions an officer, the (usually) young man or woman instantly acquires a significant load of both privilege and responsibility. At the moment the gold stripe or bar is fastened to the uniform of the midshipman or cadet, the rank of Ensign becomes a reality. Although years of very specific and formal training will help the new officer function, there is a lot to learn before he or she becomes a proficient naval officer. The event is similar to a new born foal taking its first steps; the spindly young horse can walk, but with a lot of uncertainty for sure. With a little experience, both will demonstrate increasing confidence.

My first task upon being so commissioned was to travel to San Diego for security clearance and training, then on to Pearl Harbor, to meet the ship to which I would become intimately connected,  the USS Serrano (AGS-24). My beautiful picture

She was undergoing a major overhaul when I arrived in Hawaii. The 200 ft long ship, originally designed to tow damaged battleships across the ocean, was sitting high and dry on a marine railway without power, spewing sandblasting dust and receiving modern electronic equipment with the help of dozens of shipyard workers. She had a stellar workhorse record from both WWII and the Korean War, but had languished in mothballs near San Francisco for a decade before coming back to life. Serrano had her enormous winch removed from the fantail and was converted to an oceanographic research and geodetic survey vessel. My job was to supervise the installation of new radios and encryption devices. I was immersed in the tropical heat and dusty noise for 8 hrs each day, after which my time was my own. To seek cooler sea breezes and quiet solitude, I spent many afternoons exploring the large Pearl Harbor Naval Base.

Oahu and Pearl Harbor were fascinating to me. The history from WWII had always intrigued me. As a kid, I had watched countless videos of the 1941 attack on the US fleet there on “Newsreels” in pubic movie theaters, the only source of news and documentary before television assumed that role. To walk along Ford Island after work each day and imagine the battleships arrayed there with their valiant crews fighting to save them was inspirational. Relics from that attack were still to be  found near the small buildings and rural setting across the harbor from the shipyard.  IMG_0178.jpgThe USS Arizona, now a sacred grave for over 1000 US Navy sailors, was still seeping a small stream of oil drops from her tanks last refilled in 1941. Standing above the deck of this battleship, still visible under the spot where she was  sunk in shallow water, would bring out emotions of many kinds to anyone who visited her.  The Arizona had been declared a national memorial site when I was in high school. Elvis Presley held a famous benefit concert to help fund the visitor site 3 years later, the year I became a US Navy Midshipman. 

The afternoons hiking around Pearl Harbor Naval Shipyard were humbling. The single gold bar on my collar drew salutes from sailors as we randomly passed. They were often men older than I, and more experienced. I wondered if any of them had been there in Hawaii that horrific day, 25 years earlier. I studied ships tied up at the various docks. There were both nuclear and diesel submarines visible in open dry docks. I saw Fletcher Class destroyers, supply ships and old landing craft that had seen naval warfare first hand still performing an active service of some kind. There were lesser known markers on the base, on adjoining Hickam AFB, and in the mountains, cities, beaches on all four corners of Oahu. That summer and fall showed me a new, first-hand, deep respect for the uniform I was now wearing every day. My earlier officer training and midshipman cruises had inserted me into a significant class of historical figures. Yes, I still lacked the real sea experience widely associated with naval officers across the centuries, but that season of steeping myself in the war history of Pearl Harbor made a connection. It finished my qualification process.

I was ready.  

  

The Serrano came out of dry dock that fall. Over the next couple of months she passed her sea trials with flying colors and crossed 5000 miles to the Western Pacific. Christmas Day found her in Cam Rahn Bay   working a full 18 hours collecting data  and bottom samples. 

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                                  Serrano anchored/weighed anchor 73 times that Christmas Day, a US Navy record.

Experience, by definition, comes in many forms. Standing a mid watch while underway meant the relieving officer was to come on the bridge 15 minutes before midnight to familiarize himself with the operational situation before taking charge. One routine night, in clear weather operating close to the South Vietnamese coast, I arrived on the bridge to find the officer of the deck I was  about to relieve embarrassed, rubbing his eyes and complaining about lost night vision. It turned out he had missed a voice radio request from a US Navy P2V patrol craft to identify the ship. The aircraft had a multi-million candlepower search light designed to illuminate submarines mounted on its wingtip, and its crew energized it to study what to them was an odd-looking, unidentified ship operating close-in to shore.

In an unrelated incident, it was my turn to be embarrassed when I navigated the ship alongside, and within a few feet of, a large, fast-moving car ferry on a dark Puget Sound near Seattle. The ferry had been traveling west to east, across our path as we departed the pier, steaming in a northerly direction. The radar operator designated it “skunk C” and confirmed my understanding that our ship had the right of way. Moreover, the distance between us was increasing further reducing reason for concern. As the ferry approached its destination north of Seattle, it faded from our sight, far to the right. However, right after we dismissed it as an active water contact, the ferry switched running lights and started back to the west. The reversing of the critically important running lights was  a practice I had never heard of. What had been the starboard (green) running light of this contact became the port (red) running light as the ferry captain started his westerly run back to Bremerton where it had originated. 

Most ships turn around to reverse course but not ferries. They back up. What had been the stern on Skunk Charlie going east now was the bow going west. It reversed direction without turning. Although neither the visual appearance nor the radar image of that ship changed, the interpretation of the marine rules-of-the-road certainly did. While we had enjoyed the right-of-way “privileged” position during the hour Skunk Charlie was on its eastbound leg, we became the “burdened” vessel as soon as it change running lights. Skunk Charlie instantly changed status from being burdened to being the legally privileged compared to our ship.

Drivers know how pedestrians can gain right-of-way status over approaching cars by stepping into a crosswalk. As a driver cruising safely along, you see a clear crosswalk ahead. Then suddenly a person who had been a non-yield issue while walking along on the sidewalk, suddenly turns ninety degrees, and in one motion steps off the curb, and instantly becomes the privilege user of the crosswalk on the road you both share.

Fortunately my crew and I figured out what was going on in time to turn the ship sharply to starboard just as the ferry came steaming full speed down our port side. Unfortunately, just as all the excitement came to a head, our captain (i.e., my boss) was coincidentally climbing the bridge ladder for his routine after-dinner check on “how things were going.” Halfway up the ladder the “thing” he found was an eyeball to eyeball perspective with the civilian evening commuters waving, cheering and loving their rare close-up look at a Navy ship lining the ferry rail about 30 feet away.  Needless to say it wasn’t an opportune time to explain my newly learned wisdom about how ferries swap their lights when they’re done swapping cars and people. As he energetically questioned my competence, it seemed better to just let him vent, making sure the whole crew knew how inexperienced their new deck officer was, rather than risk having him view any defensive arguments as insubordination.

 

There is an odd irony about the privileged and burdened terms used in marine law. All  deck officers underway know very well that when facing a collision course at sea, it is a privilege to be burdened and a burden to be privileged. This is because being in the privileged status includes a rigid requirement to maintain course and speed, while the burdened ship is required to alter course and/or speed. Not unlike other situations in life, when we are privileged we carry expectations that reduce our options. Yet when we are burdened, the options to improve the situation are ours to control. So the question ponder is . . . “Would you prefer to be privileged or burdened?” 

  

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Things Are Not Always As They Appear

The perspective of time changes as one gets older. In other words,  studying history in grammar school the Civil War, the American Revolution and the Roman Empire all seemed  to me to have occurred an equally, enormously long time ago. Beyond that, the Biblical characters Adam and Eve, Noah, Moses, King David and Jesus seemed like folks from a single story, even longer ago.

Now that I’m approaching eighty years of age I can better relate to the characters and stories of Civil War battles, since they happened in the same range of years as the experiences of my life. Likewise my father lived to be almost ninety. Go back ninety years before his birthday and you can be watching George Washington, John Adams and Thomas Jeffferson leading a brand new nation. (I can now better relate to those Bible characters too, especially the imperfect ones, but for much different reasons!) 

Most elderly people will tell you (even if you didn’t ask) that past events are recalled more and more as if they happened more recently than they actually did. Ironically, the older we get the younger things seem. My grandparents and their entire generation seemed to me to be classic “old.” They acted like old people when they were in their sixties and seventies. Quite the contrary, I still view myself and most of my peers as young. I behave differently now, and yes my joints ache a bit more, but I think pretty much the same as I did when I was forty or fifty.

Often things actually are not what they appear to be, and since events and experiences seem to appear differently to different people anyway, it follows that communication about important realities in life are sure to be difficult.

There is a concept of listening which can be sacred observation. It’s a discipline where we humans choose to stay completely objective as we see or hear things going on around us. I think animals are probably better at sacred listening than we are.They just do what they were created to do, whether its a bee collecting nectar and pollen or a dog reminding us of the value of positive attitude. But with a little practice, sacred listening and its many benefits can be relearned and become habit. Re-learned, because young children do it naturally; they watch their older siblings and adults to figure out motives, and to learn how to do things for themselves. It’s natural for them because in the very young years, they respect elders without question. But for some reason, when exposed to wider society and its adopted values, and the concept of ego develops, we elder humans become more skeptical, less open, less candid. We gradually, unconsciously become different from the person we were created to be/. We become more competitive, judgmental, impatient. 

An interesting experiment would be to have folks live with the value of sacred observation for a while to see if it improves things. Those who are willing, could began to train themselves to see others as the original core person they were as curious tykes living inside, trapped inside, an outer shell of persona formed by years or even decades of wounding, scarring layers of both positive and negative experiences. God only knows the quantity of events that contributed to that outer shell persona. But if we each assumed for the moment that still hidden inside the person we are observing there is an inner core – an attractive mix of kind, careful, inquisitive, appreciative and humble attributes that reflects mutual respect, compassion and willingness to forgive, we can set the framework for sacred listening. In other words, to practice this idea, charge yourself with the task of developing the skill of looking past the outer person, which is where subjective opinion and socially-acquired values and behaviors impact us, and see what lies behind that screen. Quietly accept the lessor known inner person as “good” regardless of their reputation or how they appear at first glance. Acquiring this skill can be difficult, but can be done in the private thoughts of your head, even when evidence seems scarce. It helps to move away from repetitive, socially acquired judgements, some of which were not intentionally acquired. It should at least open up a less rehearsed, more genuine, objective pattern of thought.

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Chipper. 1948 – 1961

IMG_0251 2.jpgProbably the runt in a litter of seven, Chipper was born with a deformed tail – a show (dog) stopper for the pedigree breeder. The tail defect disqualified him for sale to dog  show enthusiasts, but ironically it probably increased the quality of his life by an order of magnitude. Since breeders raise dogs for revenue, this gorgeous pup with a distinctive hump in his tail was doomed to be euthanized before my parents offered what they could afford to buy him as the family pet. (Chipper never knew his tail was labeled defective and had he known, he would not have cared.)

Puppy years for him were spent living in an old house on 14 acres of farmland with fields, streams and maple and wild cherry trees. Included was an old trellis with an ample seasonal supply of Concord grapes hanging down at his level. He would often help himself to those tasty purple bunches. He must’ve had instinctive knowledge of their natural antioxidant nutrition, but occasionally he lacked either self control or knowledge of when enough was enough. His stomach would growl after trips to the grape trellis and he certainly needed no laxative assistance.

Chipper’s adventures weren’t limited to food, since the property had a diverse rodent population: rabbits, woodchucks, muskrats, foxes. He widen their holes with his earth-moving skills, chased them into panic mode, and would lurk patiently, watching and sniffing the breeze from under a shade tree in an at-the-ready position where he could rise up and lunge into a full gallop in one impressive motion.

This gorgeous English Setter would’ve been happy to just live out his assigned decade right there where he came to know intimately each of the 14 acres, and most of the neighbors’ properties as well. (Side note: our family became unpopular with the Papoulius family up the street, because Chipper loved intimidating their sheep. To ease the tension my dad got permission to bring the adventurous pup to their property to break the habit. Using a long rope as a leash, Dad would let him pursue one of those poor helpless beasts for about 10 yards, then yell “No!” while jerking the rope backwards at its end point, causing Chipper to essentially flip over backwards. Chip was bewildered by this consequence. He felt no guilt; in his opinion sheep were too stupid to deserve such  free roaming status. He never lost interest in the chase, but did refrain when we would notice him lining up a victim and utter the sharp-toned, “No!” ) 

The New England dog’s paradise chapter ended in the fall of 1953 when my dad changed jobs causing us to relocated to Kent, Ohio, a town where dogs were required to be leashed at all times. In the big move, since we drove to Ohio without a dog on the car roof, Chipper spent a lonely few weeks in a kennel quite certain he had been abandoned. At age ten I was jealous when the dog got to make his trip on a commercial airliner, although he was certainly uncomfortable in the unheated luggage compartment. We met the flight at Cleveland’s Hopkins Field with warm expectations only to be told by the American Airlines manifest guy, “Nope; no animals on that flight. Sorry… maybe tomorrow.” My folks were perplexed, since they had received opposite information when the plane left Boston. As our family was walking out in disappointment, I let loose an unauthorized, loud chirping whistle which I knew Chipper would recognize if he were in there somewhere. The sound carried down the hollow interior of that enormous warehouse and was returned with the sound of a congenitally defective tail banging furiously on a metal dog crate. I whistled again. From his cage stuck under a distant shelf, Chip returned a burst of assertive barks, which in turn caused my dad to get assertive with the careless guy back in the freight office. Chipper’s reaction when released from his small prison cell was a sight to never forget. He wet the floor (payback for the clerk), wagged his tail so fast his rear end was swinging enough to qualify him for Dancing With the Stars and whimpered almost constantly. I still tear up when recalling that heartfelt connection scene. For weeks, that grateful canine stuck by my mother’s side every time she moved from the room they were in. 

Chipper had a heart every bit as real as our human hearts. (Years later, upon learning the definition of “unconditional love,” he came to mind.) Dogs demonstrate uncondition-al acceptance and they don’t hold grudges. They know when they’ve been mistreated, but instinctively ‘let it go’ soon after – which would be a useful characteristic for humans to embrace.    

My beautiful pictureChip lived the second half of his life back in New England where he was a loyal guardian of the teens as they built tree houses, waged snowball wars from winter forts and picked blueberries in summer to be sold to local markets. I think his sore belly bouts from the early grapevine days reduced his appetite for blueberries. He seemed to be content with kibbles and gravy, even in his last days.

My parents put him down while I was away at college. Months later I was angry that they hadn’t told me at the time. They thought it better to shield a young man adjusting to the change from high school to the more challenging college curriculum. But this dog and I had joined souls. ‘Better’ would have been being there at the time of his death.

However, as Chip taught, let it go. Forgive mistakes, relish the abundant  memories, and be thankful. I am grateful – for the high privilege of knowing, living with, and learning from this marvelous creature for more than a full decade some 60 years ago.

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The Tree Partnership of 1980

The specific idea that motivated me to commit to positioning myself in close proximity to a tree for ten minutes after sunset every day stemmed  from a season of marriage counseling and therapy, during which I learned that developing a habit of disciplined silence and solitude would benefit both my business career and my mental health.

The challenge to find a tree every day, alone, without crossing private property, was usually just one of making room in the schedule. For most days, that time was available for a discretionary ten or fifteen minutes. Occasionally, if in a meeting or traveling at that hour, I could excuse myself from the room, or pull the car over somewhere, without much inconvenience at all. I was blessed at one such event, in Detroit, MI about three months into the one-year commitment, when I left a stuffy hotel conference room to seek a small fruit tree in the courtyard. The tree had dozens of fragrant, pink blossoms that complemented a momentarily spectacular sunset so much that it was genuinely breath-taking to observe. After standing next to that little tree for 5 or 6 minutes, I returned to the meeting. Soon thereafter I was invited to offer a creative solution to a difficult problem which our group had been struggling with.  The idea that came to me was an instant consensus breakthrough. The clarity of mind from that short outdoor visit may have been the key to the effective solution.  Would that be too much to conclude? In any case, the event proved to be an incentive to continue the daily quiet times with trees.

The commitment to perform the ritual for 365 days was easy to honor as the refreshing  outdoor breaks became the highlight of each day. It’s now been close to 40 years since that one-year commitment ended, yet I still remember many of those individual trees.

One particular day I was over-committed during the time interval between sunset and dark, so I paused by a scrawny, potted ficus tree that was off to one side of a large restaurant atrium. The meeting with that poor, undernourished tree was too short, and my body longed for the expected fresh air that always accompanied these visits. There I learned that there was more to these short periods than just “tree and me.” Now I also  appreciated the roots, the aroma of the soil, the precious fresh air. When outdoors, one can feel the ground, and look up into a majestic display of branches, leaves, clouds and sky. I gained respect for even the small trees as I considered them weathering the environment and co-existing with insects, birds and animals across so much history for generations. These remarkable trees became friends.

 

After that year, I let the discipline relax, but do continue to seek the company of trees wherever they come close. Yes, folks might questions a grown man talking with trees. No one knows my mind though, as I quietly say hello.

However, the trees do know.

 

 

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