Possibilities

By Neal Lemery 1/2/2024

The new year offers such potential. The new year’s calendar on the frig is already filling up, but there are plenty of empty spaces for what could lie ahead.

I try to write on the calendar in pencil, to leave open the possibilities of changing my mind, altering my schedule, and being more spontaneous. As I look back on 2023, I realize that the most fun I had, the most meaningful events were those that popped up at the last minute, that I could seize the moment and be spontaneous.

Whimsical is my word for 2024, being open to new things, new activities, new challenges, and not caring so much that I’m trying something new or challenging. I’m looking for fun and new energies, new opportunities, some new growth for myself. I want more excitement, more creative challenges. I want to be open, to be free to learn new thing, try new experiences, to feel relaxed and enjoy what lies ahead, and me simply letting go and letting be.

In my art, there’s always a contradiction. Part of me wants to be disciplined, organized, methodical. I struggle with being too obsessed with structure, predictability. Yet, I also want to honor and cultivate my creativity, my Muse. My best, most satisfying artwork comes from being in the moment, being spontaneous. Yes, being whimsical, not always following the rules of what is to be expected.

The routines in life offer me structure, organization, an easy, predicable road to follow. But the path of predictability does not always lead me to the desired result, or the beauty that I hope to express. I can easily get into a rut, of following the expected path, and not finding the river of creativity and artistry that I want to find. “Same ol, same ol” is not what I want, but the predicable “me” tends to seek that out.

I am working on being in the moment, of fanning that spark of creativity and unpredictability, that spirit of creativity that lies deep inside of me, the little boy that wants and needs to come out and play. Sometimes, I need to jump off the path and avoid predictability, of rule following. I need to honor that little boy and let myself daydream, be present the moment. To simply be the creative.

This year, this new space of what could be unlimited permission to be creative and spontaneous, awaits my exploration. I need to work at giving myself permission to let loose and to let the Muse take me where I need to wander. The challenge for me is to give myself permission to engage in the daydreaming, the spontaneity, to be less structured, more forgiving of myself and the pull of old voices telling me to just follow the rules and stay on the beaten path.

As I tell my friends, and as I need to tell myself, Onward!

The Lessons of 2023

(Published in the Tillamook County Pioneer, 12/29/23

By Neal Lemery

It’s the end of the year already. The year seems to have flown by, as years tend to do. I like to be reflective, to look back and wonder what I’ve learned this year, what the lessons of life have been taught to me by the many turns and twists of the road in 2023.

The ten minute rule

I’m working on a new protocol for when I’m running my errands. I’ve realized that relationships are at the core of my life, that being around others, and truly listening to them, is an essential part of life, a core value of being a community member.

And, relationships need time. They should take priority over what I think my important and busy schedule is. At the end of the day, the quality of my interactions with others is what has really mattered, and what I did today that was important was really all about relationships.

I’m learning that when I encounter someone, I need to be patient, to take time, and to truly listen. You can learn a lot about your community and about life if you simply take the time to be present, to listen, and to exercise your empathy and compassion.

When I truly listen to someone, when I focus on what they have to say, when I take a few minutes to simply “be” and not “do”, I learn a lot, and I build community. And I have ten minutes in my day for someone, if they need it. Sometimes, I need it. Friendships are our treasures, and they need to be tended to, fed with conversation, and given the nurturing that a few minutes of conversation can bring to our lives.

I do have ten minutes in my day to spare.

The other day at the store, I found myself helping a man in a wheelchair in picking up a bag of dog treats. He was grateful for the help. At the checkout, I found myself behind him, and noticed that most of his purchases were for puppies. We struck up a conversation and I learned he had a new Christmas puppy and was out shopping for the new love in his life. He laughed and smiled, happy to talk about his Christmas, and sharing his new-found joy.

I had ten minutes with him, the best and most joyful ten minutes of my day.

Unplug and start again

Technology can be my friend, allowing me to communicate and to organize, to be productive and useful, from the comfort of home, with a hot beverage to enjoy. And technology can be the source of frustration, and the onset of feelings of incompetence, ineptness, even the use of some four-letter words.

I’m less of a techie than I sometimes think I am. One of my tried and true remedies, often as a last resort, is to turn off, unplug, wait 30 seconds, and then start over. More often than not, that little break with the device seems to reset the problem device. and eliminate the problem. I suspect that more often than not, my less than perfect tech skills are the source of the problem, but my pride keeps me from being that honest with myself.

Unplug and start again seems to work in other areas of my life as well. Taking a break, going for a walk, filling up the bird feeder, or relocating myself often works wonders for the frustrations and challenges of life. I don’t apply this remedy nearly enough, but when I do, the benefits are often immediate and productive.

I’ve been reading about the Japanese practice of “forest bathing”, which is popular in other cultures as well. A walk in the woods, or on the beach seems to be cleansing, relaxing, a purge of toxic thoughts and processes. I’m adding that practice into my reliable technique of “unplug and start again”.

Restringing

My friend and I don’t see much of each other since he moved out of town for a better job. When we do meet up, we can hold down a coffee shop table for several hours. This week, he brought his guitar which had languished in his closet for seven years. We planned to restring it, giving it new life, so he could start playing it again and teach his young daughter a few songs.

We sat around my dining room table, talking up a storm as we usually do, and began to put on new strings. We cleaned up the grit and grime on the guitar, removed the old, rusty strings, and put on new shiny strings. Like a lot of relationships, we tuned up the guitar, bringing the new strings up to pitch, and letting the guitar find its new, fresh voice. The wood responded with sweetness and harmony, much like our friendship.

That guitar will teach us about the value of time and patience, too. New strings need to “settle in”, to stretch, to develop a relationship with the wood of the guitar. Playing the guitar vibrates the wood, improving the tone and “seasoning” the guitar. Those vibrations soothe my heart, too. The benefits are abundant.

Friendships need that sometimes, to be cleaned and restrung, brought up to the proper pitch, and strummed with new energy and purpose.

Looking at Ordinary Things

I’m a photographer, and am often looking for that special photo, something out of the ordinary. But I learned again this year that my best photos occurred when I didn’t think anything spectacular was happening, that what I was seeing was just “ordinary”. When I took another look, when I paused, and really looked around, what initially seemed ordinary had a special beauty, that “special something” that needed to be the subject of my camera.

The other morning, I went outside at dawn, having noticed a pinkish sky to the east. The coming sunrise didn’t seem like much, until I stopped and waited, and looked again. There wasn’t that brilliant phosphorescent explosion on the horizon, but there was some subtle colors. I moved around, and put a Japanese maple tree covered with morning dew and the remnants of last night’s rain between me and the soft colors of the sky. Suddenly, the composition took form, with the soft colors and sparkly waterdrops becoming what I was realizing was a stellar photograph.

The lesson I took away was to wait, observe, and let the ordinary be transformed into something special.

With time and patience, something that seems unexciting, plain, even mundane, can become a moment of beauty and serenity.

As the old year fades away, I’m reminded that life so often gives us simple lessons, if we only take the time to notice.

12/28/23

Holding Space

published in the Tillamook County Pioneer, 12/19/23

By Neal Lemery

A number of years ago, a counselor friend introduced me to the idea of “holding space”, being simply present for someone in crisis, someone needing a human presence in their life.

And not necessarily a friend who could offer advice or counsel, or direct them to some professional help. But, simply being there.

I’m a verbal person, willing to talk about most anything, and sometimes too free to offer advice, even when it is not sought. Holding space is an idea that is more about just showing up, being around, willing to offer the proverbial ear to someone having a really bad day. Zipping my lip is not my first response, but often holding space is what is needed and what is sought.

Yesterday, the phone rang. An old friend, a guy I’d mentored and worked with when he was in prison, was on the line. He was in tears, needing to talk. One of his parents had just called him to break their lunch date for the holidays. He’s been suicidal and had acted on it, and was now in rehab.

My buddy was devastated. He was worried about his parent, but glad they were alive, and relieved they were in rehab and getting the help they had needed for a long time. His tears flowed and he choked up several times, getting his family woes off his chest.

I listened, and listened some more. I set aside my judgmental thoughts about the parent’s drug use and depression, and the impact that had on my friend. My friend wasn’t calling for advice; he was calling so I could listen to him, so he could put into words what he was going through. He needed to vent, and to cry on my shoulder. I zipped my lip, yet occasionally offered words of condolence, sympathy, and concern for my friend’s wellbeing.

I reminded him that he was a good man, a good son, and one of my friends. And, I listened some more. The torrent of tears slowed, and he became reflective of the ravages of addiction and estrangement that had plagued his family, and strained his relationship with his parent.

That’s all that he needed, and all that he wanted from me in this phone call. I listened, and withheld my judgement about the parent and their relationship with my friend. I told my friend I loved him, and that he loved his family, and that love for a person who hurts you can be painful and difficult to navigate, but loving others is what we are here to do in our lives.

An hour later, I heard a quote from Supreme Court Justice Sandra Day O’Connor. “The purpose of our lives is to help others along the way.” She’d written that in a letter she had written, to be read at her funeral, her final words of wisdom to be shared with the nation.

At the end of the phone call, we told each other we loved each other, that it was good to talk, and good to share troubling news, and that sometimes, family life and the ravages of drugs and depression are tough to navigate.

My friend and I are here for each other, just a phone call away, when the tears overflow and life gets a little too challenging. Yesterday, I held space for my friend, and helped him on on his way. I know he’s there for me, too, when life gets too much to handle by myself, and I need someone to hold space for me.

12/20/23

Struggling with Loneliness

I first posted this in 2019, and its time for a re-post.

–by Neal Lemery

I see a lot of loneliness in our society. Ironically, it is everywhere, and often found in the busiest places of our communities. With all of our personal technology, and seemingly effortless tools to “keep in touch”, we struggle with an epidemic of isolation. Loneliness is often invisible, seldom talked about, and not an easy topic of conversation. There’s a social taboo on vocalizing our emotional states, anyway, and falling silent and withdrawing is one of the traits of the lonely and isolated.

Three quarters of Americans have experienced moderate to acute loneliness. And, a quarter of us are at the high end of that emotional range.

Loneliness is most prevalent in ages under 25 and over 65. US News and World Report.

I recently came upon a friend, sitting by himself, head in his hands, in the middle of the busiest part of a big store.

Instead of tending to my shopping list and a busy day, I sat with him, and honored the silence between us. He looked up, barely acknowledging me, and then resumed staring at his hands and the floor. He’s normally talkative with me, telling stories of his kids, his work, and his art. Now, just silence, and a lot of pain. I felt his loneliness in the air we breathed, and from the bench where we sat.

My friend isn’t usually like this, brooding and silent. There’s something deep going on, I thought, and I best take the time to just be here with my friend.

The silence deepened, but it felt comfortable. I could tell that my presence was welcome, and that I should stay.

People whirled around us, the noise of shopping carts and kids, lots of conversations filling up the space. My friend’s silence became even more noteworthy in all the chaos and tumult. Intuitively, I decided to stay, my friend needing someone to just be with. Just being present is a valuable, and often greatly appreciated act of friendship.

My friend took a deep breath and sighed, and then began to talk, his voice barely above a whisper. He told a tale of anxiety and despair, how life has been a struggle, and that no one cared about him.

“I care,” I said.

“I know,” he replied. He talked more, the emotional dam letting loose, dark thoughts and pent up feelings spilling out, filling up the comfortable silence that we had. He looked me in the eye, and told a funny story on himself.

We laughed and he said he felt better, just being able to talk about life with someone.

“I’m better now,” he said. “You don’t have to worry about me now. I’ll be alright.”

“And thanks,” he said. “Thanks for sitting with me and being my friend.”

A few years ago, I took an empowering training on being sensitive to depression and suicidal ideation. QPR Training. That experience gave me the confidence to tune up my intuition and my compassion, and be able to be of some help to those in need of help in dark times. I asked a few questions, and said I knew of some resources if he needed them. He said he wasn’t at risk, but he appreciated my concern and the offer.

He thanked me for being a friend, and for taking the time to care.

Isn’t that task in the job description of being a human being and living in society? We all need to be aware and to take the time to help a fellow human being.

The rest of the day, I was more aware of the loneliness around me, and in my community. I made it a point to talk to people in the store, and say “hi”, how are you doing?”, and really meaning it.

The checkout clerk and I had a good conversation, and I realized that even though she was inundated with customers throughout her shift, the work can be lonely and isolating.

“There’s a misperception that loneliness means social isolation,” Dr. Dilip Jeste, a professor of psychiatry and neuroscience at the University of California at San Diego, said. “Loneliness is subjective. It is what you feel. The definition of loneliness is distress because of a discrepancy between actual social relationships and desired social relationships. There’s a discrepancy between what I want and what I have.”

Like most of us, I experience loneliness and depression. Those emotions are part of my humanity, and likely are at least partly influenced by the turmoil and pressures of our society, which corrode my efforts to take care of myself and be healthy. I’ve tried to build into my self-care regimen some tools to be less lonely, more connected with others. Among those tools are exercise, nutrition, taking time to be in nature, creativity, and engaging with others.

Volunteerism is suggested by Dr. Kasley Killam, in her article, A Solution for Loneliness, in the May, 2019 edition of Psychology Today. She urges us to volunteer at least two hours a week, which can reduce our sense of loss of meaning, and reverse cognitive decline. 2/3 of volunteers reported they now felt less isolated, which addresses the fact that a fourth to half of all Americans feel lonely a lot of the time. Loneliness makes many of us more prone to developing a wide range of physical and mental illnesses, including heart disease, cancer, diabetes and depression.

Self care, and community care. They go hand in hand and make a better world for all of us.

6/24/19

The Power and Gift of Time

Posted on the Tillamook County Pioneer on October 18, 2023

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By Neal Lemery

Like most Americans, I’m impatient, wanting to get things done, to see the fruits of my labors right now. Let it happen, but now, not later. Waiting, let things happen when they are ready, well that’s not me, that’s not my “lifestyle”, my method of living and working.

One of my holiday traditions is to make vanilla extract. It is a simple recipe, a simple process. Last winter, I made a large batch, setting it aside in a seldom-used kitchen cabinet to age. Now, after a kitchen remodel and in the process of emptying all the cabinets for the contractor, those bottles have disappeared, hiding somewhere in a “special place”, currently missing in action and becoming part of the mysteries of the house.

I became irritated and edgy, mostly at myself for losing track of that project. Also, I wasn’t ready for the holidays, and needed to replenish my supplies of the delicious baking ingredient. The extract isn’t something that can be done in a few hours; it takes time and patience, which is always in short supply during the holiday madness.

After a few hours of somewhat frenzied searching for the missing bottles and that “special place”, I decided to start over, and make a new batch. I found my recipe, learning that I had plenty of time to let my project age and ripen. That is, if I started right away, I could get a “reboot” and have plenty of time to let the concoction age. I could choose not to be stressed and anxious, and instead, take charge and find a remedy, a solution to my forgetfulness and anxiety.

I found new supplies on line, and when they came the next day, I started anew. It is a simple recipe: vodka, cut up vanilla beans and pods, and small bottles. And, time of course. Within a half hour, all was well, with the concoction starting its soaking time. It is an infusion process, allowing the alcohol to soak up the vanilla flavors and turn the vodka into an attractive caramel color. I put my collection in the same cupboard where the other extract had been stored and then disappeared, with both me and my wife verbally reminding us where the new project was stored.

All I had to do was shake the new bottles once a week, and wait. Oh, and remember to do that and keep its location in my memory banks. I trust myself to engage in those rather simple, easy tasks.

For this project, it is all about time. Allowing time to work its magic seems almost un-American, contrary to the “want it now” attitude of society. Respecting time seems to now be a lesson for me to relearn, and to incorporate into my life.

Other projects seemed to ripen that day, with several ideas and tasks that were awaiting others’ approval or participation, also came to life. Meetings came to life, ideas ripened into easy tasks, and things moved along. Check boxes were checked and advances were made. There was an air of accomplishment now, apparently contagious, infecting other sleeping ideas into their action stage. From what had been a grumpy, unfulfilling day was turning into a most productive experience. Time and patience were bearing fruit.

Other projects came to mind: an overdue letter to a friend, the writing of a sympathy card, updating my to do list, adding items to the grocery list that were needed, but hadn’t risen to the status of urgent necessities. Getting some things done, mundane though they may initially seem, was turning into a sense of satisfaction, accomplishment, and having time to be happy with how I was getting through the day. The idea that I was an idiot for not remembering where the vanilla extract had vanished to was fading away, in the bright light of all of this accomplishment.

Patience and the impact of taking time is also woven into our community life. Some really good ideas and actions seem to take an inordinate amount of time. Some problems I want to have addressed immediately, to be solved, so we can move on. Yet, I should be patient, knowing that some community issues are intricately complex and challenging, and all aspects of a solution aren’t yet ready to be assembled. People need time to process, to look at different solutions and methodologies. They aren’t quite yet ready to act, or to accept some needed change. For some things, its not yet time for it to happen.

I’m that way, too, though I’m hesitant to admit it. I can be a stubborn mule, and don’t often like changing my mind, or agreeing that someone else’s idea is better, more practical. My impatience gets in the way of real progress and success. I need to remember my vanilla extract, and let time work its magic. And, when things have ripened and matured, all the waiting will be worthwhile, and delicious.

My New Approach to Social Media

(Published in the Tillamook County Pioneer, 9/6/2023)

by Neal Lemery

I’m tired of the bitterness and confrontational atmosphere of many social media posts, as well as how daily life is popularly reported in traditional media. It has become an environment of combat and derision, of snarkiness and often outright rude behavior, rather than informational, a building, a celebration of the best of us.

Being reactive, angry, frustrated, and generally being in a divisive, combative mindset hasn’t been very productive. A look at the headlines in the newspaper or taking in the evening news on TV seems to be proof of that approach. Many social media posts and many in the political sphere seem to take pride in their nastiness. Our society seems mired in bitterness, hatred, and animosity. We seem to be adrift, lacking a moral compass. To what end?

What is my role in all of this? I often feel pulled into the rancor, the fighting and the biting, sarcastic remarks and commentary. I need to think about how do I respond to social media, which seems to be taking an ever-larger role in how we interact with the world. How do I look at the world, its problems, how I deal with what lands on my plate? How do I navigate this world? What tools will give me the best viewpoint, the best, most effective analysis, so that I can find answers and move ahead?

Am I part of the problem, or am I part of the solution?

Finding consensus and building compassion hasn’t seemed to be the goal of the game of getting through life in 2023. The aim seems to be having the biggest body count in politics, applying the scorched earth mentality where the winner should be taking all, and to heck with the other side. And, aren’t there only two sides: us and them, the winners and the losers? We, the smart ones, and them, the ignorant ones who have been led astray, and likely without any redeeming value. “They” are easy to toss in the trash.

And, of course, the other side is evil, dangerous, not to be trusted, not to be loved or respected. Thoughtful analysis and learned discourse is for the weak. We must be strong, and, of course, always right. We wouldn’t want to wage war and then revise our thinking, based on someone else’s thoughts or different information. We tend to reach for the convenient labels, the quick and dirty terms for the “others”. The labels seem to stick, without regard for the complexity and depth of a genuinely held outlook on an issue. It all becomes so convenient, quick and dirty.

But, it’s not working. Degrading people and their point of view has never been a long term, workable answer to society’s problems and the search for useful answers.

I want to try out a different approach. I want to look at an issue, a discussion as an opportunity to look at how my response can be constructive, a building up, become an act of support and creating healthy solutions. Can I respond so that I am positive, a force for good change, to be a builder rather than a wrecking ball? Can I show that I am willing to learn, even change my opinion?

If I l look at a situation with this mindset, then I want to be a builder, a reformer, a force for doing something good. And, if I don’t feel I have the right tools, then isn’t my job to go out and find the tools that work, that build? Aren’t I tasked with resourcing the good ideas that are solution-oriented, constructive? Isn’t that part of the job description of a citizen?

If I let myself be pulled into the nastiness of some social media posts, I soon become the grumpy critic, the one who tears down and bashes, the naysayer. It is harder to be the builder, the positive analyzer who is looking for what works, what makes life better, the helper. That theme of the helper, the builder seems to be the bedrock of the major religious faiths and theologies in the world. Yet that viewpoint is now often swept into the background of a cultural desire to wage social war against the “non-believers” and “others”,and be a casualty of our cultural wars.

My new approach is to look at a social problem or an issue in our culture from the viewpoint of morality. I need to adopt a new outlook, and be positive. Is my approach based upon applying and advancing sound, thoughtful moral viewpoints and values? I like to think I am in favor of, and an advocate for respecting others, thoughtfully considering their viewpoints, and offering thoughtful conversation on the issues, looking toward dialogue, discussion, and mutual positive regard. That requires an open, inquisitive mind, a mind open to new ideas.

Does my thinking and action benefit me? Does it benefit the community? Does it advance the common good? Am I being respectful? Am I open to a challenge to my ideas and thinking, to the point of thoughtful consideration of other viewpoints, and, perhaps, even changing my mind and accepting a different viewpoint as well-reasoned and workable?

A friend recently offered me this challenge and analysis to what a person might say in a discussion or a post on social media. The famed author Ursula LeGuin had this posted on the wall above her desk:

Is it true?

Is it necessary or at least useful?

Is it compassionate, or at least unharmful?

I’m going to try to give this approach a genuine try. I’ll have to change some habits, and develop new mindsets as I go about my life, and compose my social media posts accordingly. I’ll have to look hard at how I talk with people, how I navigate through my life with my family, friends, and community. I’m an old dog and it will be hard to learn new tricks, and try a new, fresh approach. After all, shooting from the hip and being a little nasty and cranky with people is still the mainstay of our 2023 culture. Stepping out of the culture wars and trying something different will take some effort, but I’m ready for a change.

How can each of us do a better job, of being a positive force for change? Are we ready for that?

9/6/2023

In Praise of Teachers

by Neal Lemery

(published in the Tillamook County Pioneer, 8/27/23

We may not realize it, but the school year has already begun. At my neighborhood school, our community’s teachers and support staff are already at work. Long hours are being put in to prepare for a productive year of educating our children. Lesson plans, the gathering of materials, the planning of experiences are well underway.

I talked with some of my own high school classmates the other day, delving into good memories with remarkable teachers. Who influenced us, who helped shape us into who we are today? A list of great teachers immediately came up. We had many names in common on our lists, the great, the influential, the amazing professionals who opened the world to us, taught us how to be analytical, curious, and ambitious about our potential.

Over fifty years later, their impact continues to affect our lives, and help us continue to contribute to society. Because of them, we are lifelong learners and lifelong achievers. And, we’ve shaped the generations to follow us.

What makes a great teacher? How do they reach us and fire us up, equipping us to take on challenges and professions, to teach us to also teach, to reach out to others and instill a love for learning?

“Education is not the filling of a pot but the lighting of a fire.” –W.B. Yeats

The great teachers in my life were great fire starters. They were passionate and dedicated, able to arouse my curiosity about a subject, about ways of looking at problems, and developing solutions. They helped me ask more questions, to hunger for even more knowledge and problem-solving tools. They believed in their students, and our potential.

“We are here to learn how to learn, a lifelong skill. We are here to develop your curious mind,” one of my college professors said.

The great teachers fired up the entire classroom, engaging all of us, honoring the skills and curiosity of each of us, teaching us how to work as a team, not leaving anyone behind on our journey to grow our minds and be better learners.

“It is the supreme art of the teacher to awaken joy in creative expression and knowledge.” — Albert Einstein

Today’s world challenges both students and teachers with a flood of information, challenging problems, and sophisticated advances in technology. Our teachers navigate this world with advancing teaching skills, while also dealing with often overwhelming social challenges that kids deal with. Our society demands a lot of our youth, socially and professionally. Jobs are increasingly demanding. Navigating relationships, family, and community is complicated. The learning curve is steep for all of us, and especially for youth.

The expectations and demands we impose on teachers are not often on our radar. We tend to take them for granted, expecting that schools are growing talented and skills workers of the future. We should be advocates for teachers, and ensure that they receive the support they need.

Great teaching and successful education depends on all of us, teachers, parents, family, neighbors, employers, co-workers. “It takes a village” is often seen as a cliché, but each of us truly has a stake in raising and educating the next generation of learners. Our future literally depends on this important work. All of us are play supporting roles for teachers. They need us to back them up, to advocate for them in their vital work.

The unsung heroes in our community are now back at school, laying the groundwork for a successful year. We can all support that work, connecting with kids, talking with them about learning, about developing skills, about feeling valued and cherished as vital members of the community. We all need to be working to train the leaders of tomorrow, the essential workers, the skilled and innovative work force that will contribute even more to society, making a better world. Yes, it does take a community to raise a child.

My high school class, my friends, my community are all better off because of great teachers, and a community that believes in education, in lifting all of us up. Today, I thank my teachers, and all the teachers in our community and nation for all their contributions and sacrifice, their determination, and their devotion to kids.

Teaching is not a calling to which everyone can rise. The hours are long, the challenges sometimes daunting. Kids have a variety of learning styles, abilities, and challenge teachers on many levels. Yet the rewards are many. Often, the fruit of their labors may take years to ripen. Yet, lives are changed. The world can be a better place because of the work and dedication of a teacher.

I try to remember to say “thanks” to these brave and hard-working professionals, who are taking on one of our community’s most important tasks.

8/27/2023

Late

Breathless

The friend apologetic, running late

I was already almost there, saying I’d wait outside.

No worries. I had the time — maybe I should actually take it.

Empty picnic table, ocean view, sunny June day, nothing truly urgent —

Just be, just enjoy, just to be present,

To catch my own breath, experience the

Moment.

Live.

We are here only for an instant, often

Running, forgetting to watch

The waves build, break, to come again,

Endless rhythm, dependable

Soothing and calm.

I learn to wait, to simply be

To just experience, feeling the calm, the

Energy of the day, of the eternal waves

Running up the beach, sparkling in the sun,

In the moment.

—Neal Lemery 6/11/2023

Lost, Then Found

by Neal Lemery

(Published in the Tillamook County Pioneer, May 17, 2023)

Life is always teaching me lessons. I can get lost, or lose something I think is important, a treasure that is valuable to my life. In the process of the “hunt” of what was lost, I learn something about me. And that can either be insightful, or humbling, and usually both of those thought processes, both of those “evaluation of self” experiences.

I was out in the woods the other day, looking for flowers to photograph. It was an amazing spring day. I was soon in the “zone” of looking for the perfect flowers, the ideal forest scene, complete with dappled sunlight and warm breezes. Time disappeared and I was having a bonding experience with my camera, thinking I was capturing some great images and improving my photography skills.

Happy with my results, I came back to my truck to stash my gear. Joy and contentment quickly turned to disappointment and a feeling of disgust with myself. A lens cap had disappeared. I’d been proactive, attaching an elastic cord and to the cap and the lens, so the item wouldn’t stray. Part of my photographic rituals is to always recap my lenses, to the point that I’d call myself obsessive about that.

Now, the lens cap was gone, and the only one to blame was me. I’d gotten in a hurry, got distracted, and got myself lost in the photographer’s “zone” of trying to capture the perfect photo. I retraced my steps in that spot in the woods, coming up empty. Mentally, I retraced the last hour, remembering that I’d had the cap at the previous stop, that I’d felt it come unattached, and that it hadn’t been on the camera at this viewpoint. I also realized I hadn’t been paying attention, that I’d lost touch with my tools, and my creative process.

Like most times I lose something, it was my doing, my responsibility for getting distracted, sidetracked by whatever creative process or action I was trying to accomplish in the moment. I quickly shifted into “coulda, woulda, shoulda” thinking, blaming myself for being an idiot, careless and forgetful. I can easily catastrophize the most insignificant events, and invite the Grim Reaper to show up, telling myself I am an abject failure at life.

I’m good at that self-blaming, and not allowing myself to be kind to me, to engage in some old fashioned and much needed self-forgiveness.

We are talking about a $10 item, at most, and it is not like this was a life and death mistake, or that the world would come closer to an untimely end because of my stupidity. I can be harsh with myself, and I’m not a gentle taskmaster when it comes to my own actions or mistakes.

I had to stop a minute and have a little talk with myself, calming myself down. It was not the end of the world. It was not a tragedy of significance. It was not a major character flaw on my part, bringing me to shame and great moral blame. I wasn’t going to need to get down on my knees and beg anyone for forgiveness. And the Sheriff wouldn’t need to show up and look down on me or take me to jail. Life would go on. And, not anyone else would even bother to look up and listen to my tale of woe.

I went back to the earlier scenic spot I’d come from. In a minute, I spied the errant lens cap and elastic strap, lying on the path where I’d dropped it, where it had parted ways from the camera lens, evading my attention. It was no worse for wear, just a little dusty from the path. I reunited it with my camera lens and all was right in the world. The earth hadn’t stopped revolving on its axis, the day had continued. No one else seemed to be upset, or angry, or even affected by my little act of negligence and forgetfulness.

Again, I learned the lessons of self-forgiveness, understanding of what happens if I don’t pay attention, or get distracted. And, most importantly, I again learned the lessons of appreciating magnitude, the relative importance of what goes on in our lives, how we deal with the stresses of modern life, and how we can so easily turn a minor event into a full-blown disaster, when that level of reaction is so not appropriate, and so unnecessary.

I can easily go from zero to sixty in a heartbeat, moving quickly into panic mode, into beating myself up, into an all out blame game.

Or not. It has been a been a beautiful day. I was out in it, enjoying it, trying to capture some of the beauty for others to enjoy. And, I quickly jumped into disaster mode, losing sight of what was really happening, how I could easily manage this “disaster” and move on with my life.

I learned again some good lessons about me, how I respond to an act of distraction and forgetfulness, that I am worthy of treating myself gently, with kindness.

And, I got to revisit a beautiful place. I took some more pictures. They were better pictures than what I had taken during the first visit. I accomplished better photography, with a renewed appreciation of the values of patience, and understanding of me. In all that, it was a good lesson, and a good day. I’d lost some of me, and then found something even better.