gold medals

After weeks of build up to the Summer Olympics, I couldn't wait for them to start. I tuned in with the other estimated 1 billion people watching on TV, the 60,000 spectating live in London (including Kate Middleton, Prince William, Michelle Obama and David Beckham, to name a few.)  to watch over 2,500 volunteer performers in the $42 million Olympic Stadium opening ceremonies.


I'm always impressed by the athlete's skill, and the amazing quality and ability of their bodies.  And love having a few I know enough about to root for by name.


It does seem half a world away though.  A whole other world actually. Pure, peak, physical perfection.  Hhhmmm. Nope.  Can't relate.


I found this quote this morning and read it at our hospice team meeting.


In 'The World According to Mr. Rogers' Fred Rogers writes  A high school student wrote to ask, "What was the greatest event in American history?"  I can't say.  However, I suspect that like so many 'great' events, it was something very simple and very quiet with little or no fanfare (such as someone forgiving someone else for a deep hurt that eventually changed the course of history.)  The really important 'great' things are never center stage of life's dramas; they're always "in the wings." That's why it's so essential for us to be mindful of the humble and the deep rather than the flashy and the superficial.


Just picture a world where gold medals were given for bathing an elderly man with senile dementia, holding a lonely woman's hand, playing ping pong with your son even though you are tired, including your sibling as you play with your friends, taking a warm meal to a hurting family or making room in your row at church, for a person who arrived alone. Pure, peak, unselfish love.


I love Hebrews 12:1's reminder of how important this perspective is, and that we are being rooted for by name.  


Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a huge crowd of witnesses to the life of faith, let us strip off every weight that slows us down, especially the sin that so easily trips us up. And let us run with endurance the race God has set before us.


Mindful of the humble and the deep.  The essential.  Let's go for the gold!

me and Nita

This week I picked up the recent issue of Vanity Fair, and found a story I could not put down.  (just ask my mom, who listened patiently as I followed her around her house, reading paragraphs aloud to her:)


The article introduced me to Nita Ambani.  I was interested in reading about her attempts to raise three grounded, outwardly focused children.  I was intrigued that she transformed herself with a 100 lb weight loss through yoga and diet,  And how could I not want to know more about her just-finished-creation of the largest and most expensive house in the world?


But even more compelling was how Nita Ambani gives back to the world.  Read a small excerpt about her, in James Reginato's words, from the article.


In the past years Nita has built a series of enterprises that are proud success stories in contemporary India, including an international preparatory school, a premiere League cricket team, the nation's first Braille newspaper in Hindi, and a 400 acre model township that houses 12,000 people and stands adjacent to the world's largest oil refinery.  A 400 bed hospital wing is under construction and plans are proceeding for a world class university on 1000 acres of property.


While it is true that all of these undertakings are owned or financed by her husband, Mukesh, the richest person in India and the 19th richest in the world, Nita has earned respect in her own right through the country for her vision, drive and willingness to get her jeweled and manicured fingers dirty.


In 1997, when Mukesh was building the world's largest oil refinery, he put Nita in charge of creating an entire town from scratch in order to house the facility's work force of 4,800 and their families.  Located in the remote desert near the city of Jamnagar, in Gujarat, the new town required a hospital, a school, recreational centers, and shopping facilities, in addition to housing.  For about two years, she commuted to the site three times a week, leaving at seven am on one of the company plans for the hour long flight to Jamnagar, where she worked out of tin sheds in blistering heat, wading through brambles and bushes to various construction sites.


While the township has been recognized world wide as a model project, what Nita accomplished in the arid countryside around it is just as extraordinary.  She and Mukesh planted 138,000 mango trees on what was once barren land, to create the largest mango orchard in Asia.  Planting another 2.4 million mangrove trees for good measure, they basically built their own rain forest, which has altered the area's micro-climate and eco-system: the trees have brought rain, which in turn has brought migratory birds and animals.   


Wow!  Right?  And this is only a small taste of her accomplishments.  What?  You want to know more?  How about this....

...Emboldened, Nita decided Mumbai needed a first-rate preparatory school that was up to international standards.  Before the Dhirubhai Ambani International School opened its doors, in 2003, she attended to its every detail, riding school buses to assess their comfort, designing uniforms, choosing fabric for upholstery, sampling the cafeteria fare, as well as planning the curriculum and overseeing faculty appointments.  The school is now ranked as one of the best in India.  Vanity Fair June 2012  James Reginato

This woman is a tornado of plans, resources and energy.  O.K. I'm putting the magazine down.  Even though that means I can't write about how Nita remodeled the nation's scrubby rugby team into victorious champions...


Here's what learning about Nita made me think about personally.


1.  When I day dream about being, say for example, the 19th richest person in the world, my thoughts usually go to what I won't have to do any more.  Permanent vacation from work, never have to scrub another toilet, no more trying to figure out what's for dinner because my chef will have that covered.  Etc, etc, etc. Harmless, I think, since there is no danger of me actually becoming filthy rich.  But still, I'm so inspired that someone who actually has that kind of money spends so much time looking for ways to help others.  To the extent of revolutionizing educational systems and developing new rain forests.  Wow again.  Surely there can be ways I can be more like that, more generous, less selfish, even on a budget.


2.  This article reminded me again of how big our world is.  For the most part my world is Buncombe country.  All 660 square miles of it. And yes, I am the center of this little universe.  And then I read about this remarkable woman, who I have never heard of, in a place I know nothing about.  It's humbling to be reminded of my place in this global community.  To continue to grow and flourish in my little place, but to be thoughtful and compassionate to my world.  Tonight I am anticipating the Olympics in London, and am grieving with the families in Aurora, Colorado.  It's a start.


Thank you Nita.  Keep up the good work!

poetry

As I walked down the long, dark hall to their bedroom I could hear her lilting voice, strong and sure.  He was in bed with his eyes closed, and she sat beside him.  I joined her and after a little small talk, I asked about the beautiful words I had heard her reading to him.

She laughed and said it was just lines from their favorite poems, that they always would quote to each other.  She thought it might feel comforting for him to hear those familiar words filling their room again.

I had never heard these poems before.  But I am always mesmerized by the power of words.  Lyrical and evocative. Novel and appealing.  I scribbled down a few notes so I could look  the poems up later. 

Though my soul may set in darkness, 

it will rise in perfect light; 

I have loved the stars too fondly 

to be fearful of the night.

The Old Astronomer to His Pupil by Sarah Williams.

and

   In the sweetness of friendship let there be laughter, and sharing of

             pleasures. For in the dew of little things, does the heart find its morning and is refreshed.”  The Prophet by Khalil Gilbran

As I watched this couple, in their mid nineties, I again realized what a different world they grew up in.  Not to idealize the past.... but picture a world light years before Mario Kart, skater brands, Jack Ass 3 or mopeds.  Men wore ties and hats, they danced gracefully, they hand-wrote letters and opened car doors.  And they read, memorized and quoted poetry to the women they were wooing.


Pardon me while I swoon for a moment.


It was a different time.  Quentin Tarantino summed it up by saying "You can't write poetry on the computer."


Close your eyes and have someone read these words to you.

And the night shall be filled with music,

And the cares, that infest the day,

Shall fold their tents, like the Arabs. 

And as silently steal away. 

The Day is Done by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Now tell me you aren't transported somewhere else.


Poetry is the language in which man explores his own amazement  wrote Christopher Fry.  Maybe that is part of what moves us.  Being reminded to wonder and be amazed. To slow down and listen well. To invest in a rhythm and imagery.  To let beautiful words become a part of our conversation and character.


I did what I could tonight.  Amidst piles of laundry, I pulled my trusty volume of Robert Frost off the shelf.  I made my eleven year old boy and my twelve year old boy put down their Nintendo DS's and listen to Fences Make Good Neighbors and Stopping By Woods on a Snowy Evening.  They aren't converts yet.  But I feel better knowing their souls are the tiniest bit infused with poetry.  

Sunshine cannot bleach the snow, 
Nor time unmake what poets know. 
~Ralph Waldo Emerson