Curiosity

Curious George turned 75 last month. It was in the fall of 1941 that the first Curious George book was published by H.A. (Hans) and Margret Rey. There were seven books in the “Original Adventures” series published between 1941 and 1966, and the number of these seven books sold has since then topped 30 million copies. The books are so popular that they have never been out of print. Other books that feature Curious George have also been published and those, too, have sold over millions of copies. Add to that a beloved full length movie and an ever popular Curious George show on PBS KIDS and you can see why people are excited to be celebrating the birthday of this beloved monkey. Did you enjoy reading Curious George books as a kid? Do or did you read them to your children or grandchildren? Having a now three year old grand child I am enjoying seeing a third generation within my own family enjoying the instant appeal of these books. Young children, like George, cannot help but be curious. They are constantly exploring, questioning, wondering, and wanting to know why the sky is blue, and and why tomatoes are red, and why leaves fall off trees, and why water freezes in winter, and why birds can fly, and why, why, why……

PBS KIDS has broadcast an animated television series based on the Curious George children’s book series since 2006. PBS’s interest in the show from the start was not simply to entertain children, but to educate them about the value of being curious and inquisitive. Curiosity is the natural first step of the desire to learn more and is a crucial factor in gaining a deeper understanding of how things work in the world and for exploring new ways of solving problems.

This makes curiosity as important an attribute for adults as it is for children. Somewhere along the line though, as we get older, we adults sometimes lose the natural curiosity we had as children. When I work with an individual, couple, or family who is “stuck” in some way, I almost always find that they have lost their ability to be curious about their life together. When this is the case, I find that I am almost always able to help them get “unstuck” by simply being curious. We wonder together why they are stuck. We dig deep tougher and continue to wonder why. To gain a deeper understanding of what is going on we work together to ask “why?” and to explore new ways of solving a problem. That’s right, we just follow the lead of Curious George and any young child by continuously asking why, and always exploring new ways of doing things.

It's worth noting here that word curious comes from the same root as the words cure and care. To be curious is to care enough to get to know others for who they really are, rather than simply assuming we already know who they are, or what they mean by a certain action or statement. Think for a moment how wonderfully caring it feels when others are curious enough to take the time to really get to know you and who you really are. That simple curiosity on their part is a way of caring.

So the next time you are feeling stuck, try taking a step back and being curious about both how you got stuck and about new and creative ways you might try to get unstuck. In doing so you will be honoring Curious George’s 75th anniversary while you are also reconnecting with the natural, child-like curiosity that lives within each and every one of us.

Arnie's Army of Kindness

When I was growing up my father told me many memorable stories, including one that I remember about the time a famous celebrity did him an unexpected favor. As the story goes, my father, having just returned from his service in World War II, was in line at a nightclub with a friend in New York City hoping they could get in to see an up and coming singing star. When they finally got to the front of the line, they discovered there was an expensive cover charge, steeper than they could afford. Feeling somewhat embarrassed, they explained to the bouncer that they had just returned from the war and didn't have enough money to get in. The bouncer listened politely, but responded that he couldn't make exceptions for anyone. It turned out though, that the singer they had come to hear was nearby and overheard the conversation. Surprising everyone, he stepped in and said, "These two gentlemen are my guests tonight, please let them in." Before he went on stage, that soon to be famous  singer escorted them to a table in the front of the club and bought them both a couple of drinks. That singer was the young Frank Sinatra, and my father clearly never forgot the favor that he did for him and his friend that night. That story came back to me this week as I read stories about the passing of Arnold Palmer. Almost all of the stories I read began with statements similar to, "I was a young, unknown reporter...," or "I was just an everyday, average fan...," or "I was an amateur golfer, trying to catch a break....," and ended with "and Mr. Palmer made time for me, gave me his full attention and talked with me like I was the most important person in the world."  In other words, what people were remembering most about Arnold Palmer were his everyday kindnesses, and not so much his accomplishments on the golf course.  If you want to know more about "Arnie's Army of kindness" learn about the wonderful work of his foundation at www.ArniesArmy.org.

It has been said that you can tell a great deal about a person's character by the way they treat those who likely will be in a position to offer them something in return. The Bible says something similar when it says that a person's character is revealed in how they treat "the least of these" among us. Treating others with kindness because we hope to get something in return is a function of our ego. Treating others with kindness as a reflection of our character, and because it is simply the right thing to do, is an expression of our soul.

Our character is best reflected not often in grand, public gestures and achievements, but in the everyday choices we make to simply do the right thing. It is reflected in being there for a friend who is battling depression, cancer, grief, or some other difficulty.  It is reflected by a parent who is getting up for the fourth time in the middle of the night to comfort a crying child. It is reflected in the way a family member cares for an aging spouse/parent/sibling/friend. It is reflected in the person who volunteers each week at the after school tutoring program or the weekly meal program.

Just yesterday, while in the midst of working on this column, I encountered an older man in the hallway outside my office who appeared to be lost and confused. It turned out that he was trying to find his way to a doctor's office. I took the time to escort him to the office, learned his name as we were walking together, and went into the waiting room to introduce him to the person at the front desk. His deep expression of gratitude, for my five minutes of kindness, "You made my day, Sir!" turned out to be the highlight of my day.  I am embarrassed to say, though, that if I had not been working on this column, I may have simply been too "busy" to even notice this man, let alone stop and ask him if he needed help. I can't help but wonder how many times I have rushed by someone in need of assistance, not even noticing their presence.

You and I may not be famous celebrities like Frank Sinatra and Arnold Palmer, and yet, famous or not, we all have countless opportunities to be kind to others.

Whose day will you make today by taking time to notice them and giving them your undivided time and attention?

Fall Equinox

OK, here's a trick question. In what month does the summer equinox occur? If you guessed June, or any other month, then you were, in fact, tricked by the question. There is actually no such thing as a summer equinox.  There is a summer solstice, which of course does occur in June, but equinoxes only occur in spring or fall. In fact, this year's fall equinox occurred just this week on September 22nd. The easy way to remember that an equinox only occurs in the spring and fall (never in summer or winter) is to understand the etymology of the word equinox. The word comes from the combination of two Latin words that mean equal and night. Each year in both the third week of March and the third week of September there is a point at which there is an equal amount of light and darkness, equal amounts of day and night. From the time of the fall equinox through to the winter solstice the nights get longer and the days get shorter, a fact that is reversed between the time of the spring equinox and the summer solstice.

I love the season of fall and not just because I enjoy football, apple picking, the stunning colors of the changing leaves, the World Series, Halloween, and Thanksgiving. I also love fall because it is a time when I find myself turning inward, reflecting on the changing nature of life in general, and on my life in particular. The poet Bonaro Overstreet says that autumn is "a symphony of permanence and change." Turning inward to reflect on what has changed, or what is changing, also provides the opportunity for me to focus on that which is changeless, that which is permanent.

Fall is a time of transition. It's not just the trees that are transitioning here in the northern hemisphere, the geese and other wildlife are preparing for the impending winter months as well. The geese as well some other animals move great distances, making an external, literal transition of place. Trees and other animals, stay and make an internal transition as they shift their energy from external growth and creation to various expressions of internal protecting and stewarding.

I find that I too benefit from doing a similar kind of interior transitioning in the fall, as I both let go of what has been, and hold fast to what remains, learning to be appreciative of both. Another quote from Bonaro Overstreet comes to mind as I do this, "Autumn asks that we prepare for the future - that we be wise in the ways of garnering and keeping. But it also asks that we learn to let go-to acknowledge the beauty of sparseness."

Our lives indeed are comprised of equal parts light and shadow, a balance of day and night, an ongoing "symphony of permanence and change." As we begin the transition of this fall season, may we all be wise in the "ways of garnering and keeping" and also in the ways of letting go and discovering the "beauty of sparseness."

** Photo credit: The photo above was taken here in Wisconsin on this week's fall equinox by my daughter Lindsey at https://www.instagram.com/lindseyjenningsphotography/

Three Questions

You can just feel the rhythms of daily routines and habits changing this time of year, not just in the changing of the seasons, but in the changing rhythms of households with children who have started a new school year. Even if you don't have children in your household, you most likely know some child-a niece or nephew, a grandchild, neighbor, or a child of a friend-who is back in school.  Families everywhere are now adjusting to routines of more structured days and evenings. While there is the inevitable sense of loss over the ending of the free patterns of summer, one positive addition that many families rediscover this time of year is family dinner time. Even if it can only happen a few nights a week, time around the dinner table is precious and meaningful. This week, I read an article by a blogger, Meg Conley, who shared a simple way to enhance family dinner conversations. She suggests having each person at the table share their responses to three simple questions, which can be discussed as a family, with another adult, with friends, or simply in your own mind. If you keep a diary or a journal they are ideal prompts for some soulful reflection there, too.

The three questions are as follows.

How were you brave today?   I love this question because it is so strength-based. Asking people to highlight how they courageously faced a challenge is positive and hopeful. For adults, this could apply to anything from bravely facing an illness or loss, having a difficult conversation with someone who has hurt them or who spoke up upon hearing something offensive in their presence. For a young person it could mean talking to a teacher about someone who is bullying them or another child, or asking for help in understanding a difficult assignment. Life is full of difficulties at any age and it is inspiring to celebrate brave and courageous responses to life's challenges.

How were you kind today? This question reminds us that no matter what happens to us  on any given day, there are always countless opportunities for both children and adults to practice kindness. Extending kindness to others can be as simple as the way we interact with a clerk or server, or calling or visiting a friend in need. A middle school student could be kind by befriending a child who has been marginalized by the popular crowd at school. Come to think of it, this same expression of kindness could be practiced by adults as well in their own contexts.

How did you fail today? This last of the three questions normalizes the fact that, in spite of our best intentions, on any given day, we fail. Sometimes we try something that fails, sometimes we fail to do something (like being brave or kind) that we wished we had done. A high school student might share that they tried to give a talk in front of the class that day without notes and they became embarrassed when they lost their train of thought. Or an adult might share they didn't speak up that day when they wished they had, or missed a deadline at work. They might even acknowledge something that they failed at as a parent. This question normalizes the fact that none of us are perfect and that the mistakes any of us make are opportunities for learning.

So how would you answer these three questions right now? Whether you answer these questions by yourself, with friends, or family around the family dinner table, I believe you will be inspired and enriched by what is shared, and what you learn about yourself and others in the process.    

Protecting and Preserving That Which is Sacred

America’s National Park Service turned one hundred years old last month. To celebrate this, my wife and I  spent a week’s vacation in Voyageurs National Park, a park that extends for fifty-five miles along the Minnesota-Ontario border. The park, officially established in 1975, is named after the French Canadian (voyageur is French for traveler) fur traders who traveled the waters within the park using large canoes in the late 18th and early 19 th centuries.They trapped and transported beaver pelts through the waters of what is now the park to supply the growing fur market in Europe.

Voyageurs is the only national park that is accessible solely by water, as there are no roads in the park. There are over thirty lakes, some as long as twenty miles in length and nine hundred islands. Visitors enter the park by boat and for the first time in our lives we were visitors, spending a week on a small rental house boat. During our week away we motored more than fifty miles, tying up at a different beach site each night. We took along two kayaks as well which allowed for lots of quiet exploration. Perhaps the best part of being in the park is that there are no cell towers within or near the park and so we were totally “off the grid” for seven days. We were both surprised at how deeply satisfying it was to not view one electronic screen for a full week. We found instead, that campfires, the Northern Lights, meteor showers, board games, and long, uninterrupted conversations were good for our souls in ways that we had almost forgotten.

Speaking of being good for the soul, that’s how I think of our Nation al Park Service, and indeed all protected wilderness areas in our states and in our country. There is a spiritual hunger within us that seems to be only satisfied when we spend time outdoors, a fact the people who fought hard to create our National Park System understood well. John Muir, an early conservationist who worked tirelessly to start the National Park Service, described Yosemite National Park in California as “a temple far finer than any made by human hands.” The transcendent and diverse beauty found in parks such as Yosemite, Grand Canyon, Great Smokies, Denali, Glacier, Yellowstone, Grand Tetons, Bryce, Zion, Everglades, and Voyageurs—just to name a few—profoundly connect us with the spiritual source of all creation. These sacred places transport us out of our everyday worlds to places that are eternal and timeless.

Spending a week in Voyageurs National Park reminded me also of the fact that all that is sacred is a gift from the Creator and needs to be cherished. We are not the creators of the sacred; our role is rather to steward and protect that which is sacred. My wife and  I were  able to enjoy one particular national park because others worked diligently to preserve and protect that wilderness area.

voyageurs-national-park

The need to protect that which is sacred in life goes beyond the need to  protect and preserve natural wilderness sanctuaries. When we work  to honor and preserve the sacred sanctuaries of our friendships and our families, we are creating places for ourselves and others to experience the transcendent and spiritual aspects of life as well. I’ll close with one other important insight we relearned on our recent vacation. The enjoyment of the sacred sanctuaries of nature and of relationships is greatly enhanced by getting away from our electronic screens and devices and rediscovering what it feels like to be wholly present to the spiritual reality that is around, between, and within us when we take the time to truly notice