A Bittersweet Time

By Neal Lemery

(published in the Tillamook County Pioneer, 12/24/2025)

When I was a kid, Christmas was always a bittersweet time. Lots of emotions were at play, even though the family worked together to make it a joyous and happy time with lots of festiveness and fun. It had all the attributes of a good time for a kid: a Christmas tree, happy music, great food, presents, and family members singing uplifting music. There was mystery and magic, good surprises, Midnight Mass, and hugs all around.

It was also the only time of the year I would see my grandma cry, weeping and then sobbing, and running off to her room for a half hour to compose herself, right when she was making the mulled sauce for the traditional Christmas Eve ham. No one would talk about why she would burst into tears, until I, being the impertinent child, asked her one year. My question got a scathing look from my mother, but I persisted.

I learned that Grandma’s mom had died on Christmas Eve, many years ago, and what was supposed to be a happy day was marked by deep sadness, and grief. Our family didn’t talk much about grief and loss anyway, so it didn’t surprise me that the anniversary was tough on all of the family, especially my grandmother. She was the queen at burying her emotions and not sharing difficult times. She didn’t share her emotions with anyone, especially the hard and deeply personal emotions of losing one’s parent when they were a kid.

Once I learned about the anniversary, I went out of my way to be kind to Grandma at Christmas, and gave her some hugs, and shared funny stories. I was able to get Grandma to talk about her mom, and tell some sweet and loving stories of her, and how she loved her family. After our talk, and sharing her feelings with the rest of the family, she warmed up, and became more open about being emotional and kind. Christmas wasn’t a mine field anymore, and we were all better at talking about our feelings.

This Christmas is a lot like that Christmas. It is a time of raw and tender emotions, a time of having a deep sense of loss and grief, and not knowing how to deal with a lot of complicated and conflicting emotions. The air feels heavy, and I’m not navigating through the season with a sense of joy or enjoyment. It seems that many of us are grieving and struggling in a tough year, where our lives are unsettled, and we are adrift, unsatisfied, and hurting.

A lot of that is our political experiences, but other aspects of our cultural and social life also seem out of whack, disoriented, and blurry. Watching the news or attending a concert of what should be our favorite and happy music seems to leave me unsettled, unsatisfied, and yes, disturbed, often angry and adrift. There’s a big chunk of a sense of order and goodness that is missing or just out of place. And, I don’t have good words to describe that. Like my grandmother grieving for her mother’s death anniversary at Christmas, I don’t have the words, and I resist talking about it. Part of me wants to hide, and live in denial.

This fall, I watched Ken Burns’ engaging documentary on the American Revolution, which gave me new insight into the American psyche and a renewed sense of history and the deep roots of the American spirit. There was a discussion of Thomas Paine’s influential pamphlet, Common Sense, and its opening sentence: “These are the times that try men’s souls.”

We are living in a similar time, where we are grieving the loss of some of our culture, values, and sense of morality. We often feel adrift, unsure of where the country is headed, of what our own place is in what is coming. It seems to be a good time for being reflective and purposeful. I often feel lost and aimless, and not really being able to give words to what I’m feeling.

Joan Baez recently spoke on finding and rediscovering one’s own sense of purpose and moral center. She was receiving a big award for her creativity, and spoke candidly and intensely to the Hollywood elite at the awards event.

‘If your voice can move millions and you choose not to use it for those who have no voice, then you are not creating change – you are creating noise.”

“If you have more than you need, it no longer belongs only to you. Your responsibility is to lift up those who are still beneath you.

“Legacy is not built on what you earn. It is built on what you give.”

I’m feeling I’ve misplaced my mojo, my sense of purpose, but Baez’ words are a wake-up call. We Americans have a rich heritage, and we have the tools to strengthen and rebuild our culture, and rediscover our sense of purpose and mission. I now see a lot of that renewal, that renaissance, and it gives me joy and hope.

Like my grandmother, we can give ourselves permission to grieve our losses, deal with our shared pain, and move forward, to give love to our families and our communities, and to make a real difference.

12/24/2025

Traditions and Gratitudes

By Neal Lemery

(published in the Tillamook County Pioneer, 11/27/2025)

I’m sentimental about Thanksgiving, the first big holiday of wintertime, when the expectations and the preparations for the holiday are not on steroids. It is a time for gathering with friends and family, with no expectations for frenzy and rampant consumerism. Just a good meal, good company and enjoyable conversations. Abundant food and dessert, and love are expected.

Our family has some long-standing traditions. My mom always set the table with an extra setting, and moved an extra chair to the dining room table. My young curiosity would ask “why”, to which my mom always replied “You never know.” And, almost every year, that chair would be filled by a sudden guest in need of a place to belong to for the holiday. They added a lot to the spirit of the day, and their smile at being included as part of the family gathering always raised our spirits and added more love and kindness to the day.

We get out some of the special dishes and my uncle’s candlesticks. The silver and pearl sugar spoon that my great great grandmother stashed on her wagon on the Oregon Trail is a must. The ordeals of our ancestors always are a topic of some reflection and conversation. And, I always sense the spriritual presence of those family members and friends who have passed on, choosing to remember their smiles and laughter around the table.

We also speak of our gratitudes. As we sit down at the table and begin to pass the food around, we each take a turn on saying what we are grateful for over the past year. It is a healthy ritual, as people often share some experience that the rest of us were unaware of. Figuring out what I need to contribute, as my gratitude, often humbles me, as I don’t often “count my blessings” or take time to pause and reflect on what is really important in our lives.

It warms my heart to find the words and the experiences for which I am grateful.

One year, the brother of our foster son filled the “empty chair”. We had gotten an unexpected call Thanksgiving morning, and learned he had no place to go for the holiday. He was warmly welcomed, and his smile brightened the room. When it came his turn to share his gratitudes, he spoke from his heart, and began to cry. Well, we all did. He was the spirit of Thanksgiving and kindness that year, his remarks reminding all of us of the “reason for the season” and what family is all about.

Happy Thanksgiving.

My New Book! Recharging Ourselves: Strengthening Our Community Through Kindness

My new book, Recharging Ourselves: Strengthening Our Community Through Kindness, is now available at Amazon and Barnes and Noble.

We are all builders and architects of community. By telling our stories and the stories of our neighbors, we explore our community’s strengths and the tools to improve everyone’s lives. This collection of essays and stories celebrates rural America in the 21st century, and digs into the challenges we face. These essays also celebrate where we have come from and how we are going to further build our communities, inspire our youth and collaborate for a brighter, healthier future.

The book is an exploration of community life in rural America, examining mentoring, volunteerism, community action, relationships, nature, and education. I look at community life through the lens of civic engagement and empowerment of individuals to change community values and institutions. We are the forces for change. By telling our stories, and encouraging others to tell their stories, we come together, we become the builders and educators, the leaders for meaningful change.

On Freedom

By Neal Lemery

(published in the Tillamook County Pioneer, 7/1/2025)

“Freedom, in its simplest form, is the power or right to act, speak, or think as one wants without hindrance or restraint. It’s often associated with liberty and autonomy, signifying the ability to make choices and act without coercion. In a broader sense, freedom can encompass various aspects, including freedom of speech, religion, and the press, as well as freedom from oppression and want.” –Wikipedia

We live in society, living collectively, in a structured existence with certain expectations, common rules of behavior and conduct, and common beliefs on how we should behave. We pride ourselves on being free.

Our common idea of who we are as a community, as a nation, is that none of us are “free” to act as we individually desire, to be anarchists. Instead, each of us has agreed to be part of the tribe, grouped together with common purposes and expectations, and obligations of citizenship.

This acceptance of our “social contract” was extensively discussed during the Age of Enlightenment of the 18^thCentury, and became the framework for the rise of democratic and republican institutions. It was the intellectual foundation of the American Revolution, a rejection of the tired social structure of monarchies and the divine right of kings. Abandoning the autocratic structures of feudalism, reformers advocated for giving voice to individualism and government based on popular, educated debate and majority rule. The Virginia Bill of Rights, the Declaration of Independence, and the US Constitution emerged from such thought and debate.

That debate of our fundamental common principles continues today, as we refine and reshape our society and our governmental and economic structures. We owe it to ourselves and the entire community to respect and nurture these conversations, and to be meaningful, informed parties to those conversations. Such is the labor of a freedom-loving people.

True freedom is not anarchy, and does not thrive without a form of government that respects both individual voices and a collective acceptance of community good. The implementation of individual rights and collective accountability often seem to be conflicting, but in that, both enlightened ideals will thrive and nurture both individual freedoms and society as a whole.

Our disagreements, our debates, our differences of opinions, our seemingly competing values are actually our strengths as a society. Vigorous and informed debates and conflicts sharpen our minds and strengthen our respective opinions and viewpoints. The inquisitive mind and critical thinking are some of our greatest assets. In engaging in vigorous debate, we are truly fulfilling our respective obligations within our social contract, by being educated and active citizens, speaking our minds and giving deep consideration to the views and opinions of others.

Freedom isn’t being able to do whatever I please, or say whatever thought pops into my head. Instead, I have obligations, part of the duties of being a free person, to delve into issue, research my facts, develop sound logical arguments, and engage in dialogue that is respectful of others, informed, and also open to change and reconsideration.

As a citizen, as a person who honors the concept of freedom, I am fulfilling my obligations as a citizen to be informed, to be questioning of my own opinions and the opinions of others, and to participate in the public forum with respect for others and the willingness to change my own views.

Part of freedom is the duty to be a lifelong learner, a continuing gatherer of facts, and to engage in meaningful, respectful debate of the issues of the day. This is good citizenship. And this is being an endorser of the principle of a free and just society.

Each of us is obligated to be a good and responsible member of the tribe, the village, the state, and the nation. By revolting against the king, we have taken on the tasks of governing ourselves, through healthy, vigorous democratic institutions. Each of us has duties to work to strengthen and protect our democratic institutions, “to promote the general welfare and provide for the common defense.”

8/29/2025

Graduation Inspiration

By Neal Lemery

(Published in the Tillamook County Pioneer, 5/26/2025)

I made a serious run on the graduation card rack at the store this morning. Four great nephews and nieces are graduating in the next few weeks. I needed to fulfill my duties as a great uncle, to acknowledge their achievements, give them a round of applause, and note their collective plans to go on to college.

Inspiring cards were selected, along with some gift cards. Giving money for college expenses is part of the family tradition, too. Inspiring, heartfelt messages need to be composed, to go along with the cards and money. The older generations need to speak out, and proclaim their praise and kudos to yet another generation of college-bound kids.

Each of them has already started on their college career, with dual credit classes as high school seniors, visits to college campuses, and early applications for admission. This uncle sees them as bright, ambitious, and starting to live their dreams of being responsible, resourceful adults.

These accomplishments continue a community and a family tradition, of getting out in the world and finding a useful, satisfying career, and to give back.

This is a time to remember and celebrate the ancestors, too, with visits to cemeteries, and taking some time to ponder their lives this Memorial Day weekend. The ancestors were big advocates for education, traveling the Oregon Trail and later paths of emigration to the Northwest, eager to homestead farms, build schools and raise families who had brighter opportunities. They, too believed in getting an education.

Settlers to Oregon established numerous colleges and academies. Schoolhouses were one of the first community buildings erected in new settlements. Property taxes were assessed to fund schools. When Oregon was surveyed, and homestead sites were platted, one section (a square mile) of every township (36 square miles) was designated as a community asset for local schools. Today, Oregon has numerous private universities and a flourishing state university and community college system.

Funding and administrating our public school system remains a vigorous topic of our politics, and schools remain a core value of our culture.

A century ago, my grandmother had a dream: a college education for each child. She did some research, and then moved her family from a Canadian prairie wheat farm to the Willamette Valley, where there were a number of colleges. Two of my aunts and all three sons earned graduate degrees. Not a bad accomplishment in the 1920s and 1930s.

When I was six and she was 84, she gave me the same heartfelt, forceful message, insistent that I work hard to better myself and live a productive life.

Now, I am in the oldest generation, and can look ahead two generations to see family members who have worked hard and be set in their ways to advance themselves. Our family has been around here for nearly 180 years, and the path to self-improvement and building community is a well-worn, and expected, road. When I talk with young people about their future, I hear my grandparents and parents’ voices, urging “get an education”.

At the funeral of a family matriarch who was a strong advocate for education in my wife’s family, the minister asked the crowd who among them had pursued an education because of her urgings and counsel. Over one hundred people raised their hands. Her encouragement continues to motivate and inspire young people today. She left a powerful and long-lasting legacy.

This graduation season, my family’s graduates are also getting a book, The Man Who Planted Trees, by Jean Giono. It’s an allegory, a story of a shepherd and war veteran who transforms a community devastated by war, into a new forest, a place of hope and possibility. More than tree planting, the work lifts people up, spreading optimism and self-confidence. It is a lesson in restitution, giving back by helping nature recover, of bringing new life to a devastated community. The tree planter does his work without seeking fame or fortune, and quietly does his work behind the scenes, anonymous.

We can all be tree planters, making a difference from a simple act every day. If you look around, there are a lot of people among us who make a difference, quietly, and persistently, acting with love, kindness, and hope.

I see that same drive and passion for self-improvement in today’s immigrants, reminding me that the flames for self-advancement and hard work continue to fiercely blaze, changing lives and our community. That energy and drive is a welcome strength and vital asset.

The voices of our community advocates for education continue to be heard and listened to. And for that, I am grateful.

5/26/2025

Making Things Better

By Neal Lemery

(published in the Tillamook County Pioneer, 2/5/2025)

I’ve always heard that we are here to make things better. That is our ultimate purpose, and that we do that work with love, compassion, and focus. Whatever else we are doing in our life, at the end of the day, life should be better for others, for our community, and, sometimes, for ourselves.

We are here to serve others. Our own comfort, our own advancement, our own betterment is not as important as being of help to others. When I was growing up, that was a strong lesson in religion, in being in community, and in our own personal work in learning how to be productive in our lives. At the dinner table, I was always asked, “Did you make a difference today?”

That work was expected to be a primary focus in our family lives, our careers, and in becoming productive adults. We were expected to help others along the way, and help them on that road to serving the community, and in growing and advancing all of us as we moved into adulthood. I also frequently asked myself that question. That personal inquiry continues today.

Seth’s Blog, written by author and social commentator Seth Godin, took a deep dive into this subject a number of years ago, digging into the ideas of “better” and “making”:

“1. Better implies that what we have right now is imperfect. Better requires change, and change is scary. Better might be in the eye of the beholder. Better is an assertion, one that requires not just the confidence to say it, but the optimism to believe that it’s possible.

“2. Make implies that it’s up to us. Someone needs to make it better, and it might just be you. In fact, if you don’t enlist to produce better, you’re part of the status quo, which is a problem.

“I’ve seen that there are pockets of our culture where both of these ideas are difficult to embrace. That authority pushes us to fit in, not to seek improvement, and deniability encourages us to whine instead of doing something about it. Power enjoys passivity in others.

“Power doesn’t want you to get uppity, doesn’t enjoy your dissatisfaction, doesn’t want to be on the hook to continually upgrade all of its systems. And so power has sold a cultural norm of acceptance, deniability and ennui.”

I get complacent in life, finding myself stuck in my routine, accepting the status quo, going along with what most other people seem to think, and what they want in life. There’s that “oh, well” thinking, that I’ll just accept what’s happening and forget that I can be a strong and vocal instrument of change, that I can make a difference and change things up. Just me. Just one person. I don’t have to accept what I think “everyone else” is thinking.

There’s no shortage of opportunities now. Local volunteer opportunities and job possibilities offer much in doing things that truly make a difference in the lives of our neighbors and our community. That work also strengthens each of us, improving our skills, and connecting us deeper with our own abilities and talents, as well as responding to the needs of others. Just look around; the possibilities, as it is often said, are endless.

Life gives us the opportunity to be independent thinkers, to have our own ideas, to do our own research, our own analysis. And, to speak out. If we listen, we hear that call to be brave and forthright, to have our own opinions, and, at times, to disagree with others. And, to do the work that needs to be done. And, as John Lewis said, to “do good trouble”.

That kind of thinking can be radical, disquieting. But I can step out of the norm, out of complacency, and to be one of those folks who stirs the pot, who thinks differently, who takes action when it seems others fear to tread.

I don’t have to look too far for that kind of inspiration and guidance. Most of my ancestors took chances, braved new worlds, and embraced changing their lives and their circumstances. They were all immigrants, or the descendants of immigrants, who crossed oceans, traveled to new and challenging places, and reformed their lives. They embraced the idea of bettering their lives. And, in doing so, to take on some hardships and challenges, striving to realize the benefits of hard work and personal sacrifice.

As Seth writes, “I’ll reiterate my belief that we each have a chance to assert. To announce our vision, to propose a change, to do the hard work to make things better.

“It’s on us, right now. Make things better by making better things.”

—Seth’s Blog 4/17/19

2/4/2025

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

Towards Purposeful Work

(published in the Tillamook County Pioneer, 3/29/2023)

by Neal Lemery

“The only way to do great work is to love what you do. If you haven’t found it yet, keep looking. Don’t settle.”

____ Steve Jobs

In every job I’ve had, I’ve tried to find purpose, joy, and a sense of worth. A worth in both the task and in shaping me into a better, more skilled and knowledgeable person.

“Did I create value today, did I make it better?”

And “it” has many different meanings. Did I improve my boss’ business? Did I serve someone well? Did my work better some condition or circumstance? Did the community benefit? Did someone else benefit or grow? Did I grow? Did I develop better skills? Was there value in what I did?

On a deeper level, did I advance myself, or others? Did I advance a better idea? Did I teach? Did I learn? Did others learn? Is the world a better place for what I did today?

Now when I fill out government forms, I say I’m “retired”, but that’s a misnomer. The nearly full calendar on the refrigerator and the to do list tells me that I’m anything but “retired”. I’m busy as I want to be, and that’s the real gift of retirement. The person who schedules my life isn’t someone else in the office. It’s me. I get the final say. And, if I don’t like what I am doing, the buck stops with me. My whining won’t play well on Facebook.

I do take the occasional day off, and I sometimes stop doing something simply because it no longer brings me joy. Hopefully we all do that, and we follow Steve Jobs’ advice, feeling free to be able to move on to better ourselves and the community.

Some friends who apparently don’t know me very well ask what is there to do in a small town. I can only laugh. While we have fewer people and maybe fewer outlets for volunteers and the ability to be involved than the big city, there seems to be unlimited potential to contribute, and to change the world, at least change my village.

As Margaret Mead said, “Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful committed individuals can change the world. In fact, it’s the only thing that ever has.”

If I want to be rebellious or ornery (or, to be polite, “purposeful”), I’ll engage with just a few people, and foment a different idea or a radical thought or action. It might catch fire, and thereby change things. If I want a more satisfying life, or a better community, I need to look into the mirror and take action.

As we were leaving a now regular community event that several people had recently started up, a new resident remarked, “You need to make your own culture here.” Yes, in many ways if you want something to happen, it often starts with yourself, or your determination to find what you want to do right here.

We’re here to make a difference, and the time to act on that is today.

3/29/23

Special Moments With Jim

published in the Tillamook County Pioneer

by Neal Lemery

Last week, I learned that a good college friend had passed away. He wasn’t a particularly close friend in the usual ways with college friends. We did not often keep in touch, like many friends from our past. We’d run into each other at gatherings every several years. Now I realize he was a mentor and a counselor to me, roles that were much different than the usual college classmate ways.

He had a deep impact on me in college. Jim was a sensitive guy, and instinctively knew when someone was emotionally vulnerable and hurting.

I was one of the guys Jim felt that with, and he reached out to me several times, the darkest of times. I kept my emotional life close to me, letting very few people know that I was hurting, that I needed some kindness and some compassion. Young men in our culture don’t want to appear vulnerable. American men are skilled at building walls and keeping our self-doubts and fears well hidden. Such wall building is what is expected of real American men, and of course I was expected to fit in. It’s the manly thing to do.

Jim was different. He had that ability to sense my pain, and would pull me aside, find a quiet corner and look deep into my soul.

He had that way about him, that instant trust and insight to pull out of me the dark thoughts, the self-doubts, the emotional pain that I thought I had been so clever in hiding from everyone, including myself. He could open me up and he would listen, deeply and without judgment.

Jim would normalize my feelings and give words to what I was wrestling with, repeating my fears and doubts so that I could hear what I was thinking and fearing, that I was not really crazy or on the edge of going nuts, that I was a human being who needed some compassion and friendship. I admired all of that in him, and I wanted to be much more like him, his vulnerability and his confidence in being a trustworthy and helpful man.

He had that gift, and I often saw him use his skills and his humanity to help others, to guide people into self-understanding and to find their passions and place in adult life. Not one to seek adulation, he did this work quietly, always protecting privacy and avoiding gossip. He was a trust builder and a healer, and practiced his skills on the fringes of college life, places where the walking wounded would go to seek out anonymity.

Jim went on to do other great things in his life. An overseas study trip took him to the Middle East where he became involved in charity and economic development work. He returned to campus, to change his major to international business. He went back to the Middle East, where he devoted his life to economic development and helping the needy, making a profound difference in the lives of others, being the Good American in a region where that was a rarity. He did well, because he was kind and charitable, because people could trust him, and because he lived what he believed about people.

We didn’t need to be in regular communication with each other, or meet at all the reunions. I knew Jim would be there for me if I needed him, and that he was still having his “Jim Moments” with people on the other side of the world.

I found myself following his example in my own work, reaching out and engaging people in their dark moments, having those quiet conversations and going deep into their emotional lives, offering respect and cultivating compassion and mutual positive regard. And in that work, I found the blessings that such work gives a person, the rewards of making a difference, by being a kindly, truthworthy friend and an advocate for decency and understanding.

In such moments, I’d chuckle to myself, realizing I was following Jim’s footsteps, that I was in the middle of a “Jim Moment”, that his teachings to me had been a profound and vital lesson, one of the most important lessons I’d learned in college. I’d ask myself, “What would Jim do?” in this situation. That would open the door for some productive conversations and effective steps forward.

I’m mourning Jim’s death today, and wondering how best to remember him, to continue on with his legacy. I’m realizing it is in those “Jim Moments” that he came back to me, when I would again feel his big hugs of friendship and compassion. This world needs more of those “Jim Moments”, when we open our hearts to someone, to truly listen and suspend our judgments, when we are accepting and open to others’ pain, when we can practice empathy, and help develop a plan on moving forward.

Jim will live on in such kind acts, and in the bonds that are made with others in times of uncertainty, confusion and self-doubt. I’m comforted by knowing that, and, more importantly, by getting out into the world, being more aware, and carrying on with Jim’s mission, and his “Jim Moments”.

1/20/2023

Each of Us Can Be a Force for Change

by Neal Lemery

(published in the Tillamook County Pioneer, 8/3/2022)

We are in the midst of change. We’ve always been in transition, growing and evolving, but these times seem even more energized and challenging. Big challenges are all around us: the post-pandemic world, climate change, economic, social and political uncertainties. How many of us work and get an education, how we socialize, how we look at our world and our own expectations are in flux. How do we deal with all that?

I often don’t handle change well. I like stability, predictability, the certainty that the demands of tomorrow will be comfortingly just like the demands of yesterday and today. But that’s not realistic, and we are all compelled to adapt and move into uncharted and often uncomfortable new territory. I’ll resist that, and want to stay in my rut, the old patterns and ways of navigating through life as comfortable as a pair of broken in shoes.

Yet, I see that much does need to change. Like most of us, I’m conflicted, wanting some things to change, but then not wanting change. I struggle with that continuing conflict, that debate with myself about what needs to change and what we need to go back to. After some inner conflict and self-talk, I mostly resolve those internal conflicts with myself by being a champion and voice for real reform, a recommitment to finding solutions, and doing things differently.

“It can be tempting to focus on all that is not working – the challenges, hurdles, and injustices. Good times can feel fleeting, like momentary distractions from the real work of life, which is more struggle and heartbreak than satisfaction and happiness.” — Dan Rather

I’m dissatisfied in leaving the role of change maker, of rabble rouser, of being the dissenting voice that advocates new thinking, to the politicians, the theologians, and those who simply seem to be just wanting to make a lot of noise. All of us should take on that role, and raise the voice of the reformer, the change maker. As citizens, isn’t that our duty? If I don’t become the actor, the instigator, the loud voice, then don’t I lose the right to complain?

“Change will not come if we wait for another person. We are the ones we’ve been waiting for. We are the change that we seek.” — Barack Obama.

My rant isn’t just about political reform, about rewriting public policy and revitalizing our institutions to be the change makers. The work, and arguably the most important work, lies within ourselves and in the relationships we build in our communities. The work is one on one, deeply personal, and demanding of our own energies and skills.

The changes you and I can make can start with a conversation at the post office, with the gas station attendant, with a small group activity where we are deep in a community-building event. It can be seeing a need in the community for something and then taking leadership to fill that need. There is so much talent and passion in our community and it often becomes unleashed by the work of a single person. Often, it’s not limited by money, but by our own willingness to step up and get something done.

The true power lies in the individual and the small group. “Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful, committed citizens can change the world. Indeed it is the only thing that ever has.” —Margaret Mead.

Want to change things up? Want to make a difference? Want to revitalize your community? Then have those encounters at the post office, the grocery store, the community event. Gather a group for coffee and have those deep conversations, the ones where everyone walks away with a to do list and a motivation to make some changes. Ask the tough questions, and seek out the meaningful conversations. Organize, motivate, daydream. Learn the skills you need to work on solutions.

Educate yourself. Imagine what may seem is impossible and take on those first few tentative steps. Be persistent, stubborn, and focused. Be outspoken, and speak your truth. Surround yourself with like-minded people and be determined. Know that you are called to leadership, to be the instrument of real change.

You will make a difference. You will be the change you want to see in the world.

8/3/2022