Losing identities, gaining perspective and decluttered closet of the mind…

Every once in a while, you stumble on a minor truth from an unlikely source that becomes much larger. It becomes your truth, it gives you a sense of clarity about the how and why of what you’ve been working to accomplish. So it was for me when I heard an interview with Marie Kondo, the NY Times best selling author of The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up. The Japanese organizing and decluttering guru was offering her advice on what to keep and what to lose to maintain a tidy home. “First, put your hands on everything you own, ask yourself if it sparks joy, and if it doesn’t, thank it for its service and get rid of it. Second, once only your most joy-giving belongings remain, put every item in a place where it’s visible, accessible, and easy to grab and then put back.”  

Joy! Eureka, the answer. I returned once again to the closet where all my identities are stashed. Those packed up for trash day were nearest the closet door. I touched them all, blessing and thanking them for their service, and bade them a fond farewell. Except for one – The Nontrepreneur blog. I dragged it out of the trash heap on the suggestion of a friend. I started this blog for two reasons: 1) to hold myself accountable to finding the what’s next in “purposeful life;” and 2) to go beyond my writing comfort zone with something riskier, more personal in nature. Writing personal journey or autobiographically is a fine writing form, but I soon learned it is not for me. It’s just not who I am. But no regrets…

Kathy, a sister in my family of choice whose wisdom I have sought over the years, was seated next to me at dinner during our Mexico getaway in December. She offered generous words about my writing abilities, and then, uncharacteristically added unsolicited advice about by blog. “Rick, you should write about others’ stories.” There was more, but that was enough. Her words rang true. During the past year, I have talked to a number of retirees who, like me, need to be needed. Many of their stories and paths to finding fruitful ways to spend their time were fascinating. Some of these men invited me to join them or offered suggestions, but my skills and interests never quit matched up to theirs. So I put The Nontrepreneur blog back on a shelf, for now. If it continues, I will be sharing more stories of others than my own. 

The easy part of my identities closet decluttering complete, I proceeded to touch each of those remaining. Each sparked joy in a nostalgic memory or a reminder of a character trait, an association, activity or ritual at the core of who I am and want to be. The closet began to feel more expansive, more like a beautiful botanical garden than a confined and cluttered closet space. One by one, I put my identities back on the shelf where I could see them and access them easily. Some were more important than others and were given the prominent places they deserved. At last I came to the two most important treasures in my metaphorical garden. The sight of these roses along with their fragrant scent sparked great joy and pride and sense of belonging. But when I touched them, their thorns pricked me. Religion and Boy Scouts have been the heart and soul of my existence since childhood. I turned to them, relied on them in times of trial and they always gave me the answers I needed, although not always the answers I wanted. The pricks came from the failures, controversies and divisiveness each has fostered. I couldn’t imagine not having my only eternal identities positioned in the most visible, accessible position in my closet. Nor could I imagine putting them back as they were without pruning their thorns. One required serious soul-searching and deft scalpel handling. The other required a fairly easy snip.

“Among thousands of men, perhaps one strives for spiritual attainment; and among them the blessed true seekers that assiduously try to reach me.”
Bhagavad Gita

I am a faith seeker, albeit a faith seeker “lite” compared to devotees of The Gita. Still, I am among those who have an uncommon desire to pursue universal truths and a deep relationship with the God called by many names. My parents wanted to raise us (my sisters and me) as “good Christians,” which to them meant being moral, good, honest and loving people. Their theology was not particularly sophisticated or deeply considered, but as the expression goes, “their hearts were in the right place.” Our family attended the Methodist church near our house. I was christened, not baptized, there. Even though I was an infant, I vividly recall the preacher’s wrinkled skin, large ears and stale smell. In those early years, I likely gained more religious teaching through osmosis than intentionality during Sunday school and vacation bible school where we sang songs like “Jesus Loves Me” and “In My Heart There Rings a Melody.”

 “Train a child in the way he should go, and when he is old he will not turn from it.”
Proverbs, 22:8

My early faith foundation was further informed in a public elementary school in which teachers awarded prizes – colorful pencils and such – for memorizing Bible verses. My competitive nature was more the driving force for my learning scripture than the trivial prizes awarded or any intrinsic knowledge attained. In the summer after my fifth grade year, I completed five years of Sunday school perfect attendance. The church tradition was to recognize the achievement with a King James Bible embossed with my name in gold letters on the cover. For reasons unknown, I began reading the Bible. What I learned was that my preacher’s sermons were as stale and old as his smell compared to those of Moses, David, Isaiah and Jesus – especially Jesus. A year or so later, the newly installed Baptist minister walked into our Boy Scout meeting and introduced himself. He told us of his Boy Scout experience that led to his earning scouting’s two highest awards. Eagle and God and Country awards were my ambitions and I instantly knew he was the one to help me get there. I started attending the Baptist church and the rest of my family soon followed. Reverend Hargrove was young, handsome, sophisticated and loaded with charisma. In the pulpit, he was amazing. Of course he could and did preach the hellfire and brimstone expected of Baptist preachers, but he lived a much more nuanced and progressive theology underneath that he could reveal only in certain circumstances and to select people – if he were to keep his job. God & Country required 300 hours of service in the church and proof of reading and understanding the Bible so I was privileged to spend a lot of time with him. He encouraged my curiosity and allowed me to question or challenge the meaning of scripture. The year after he presented my God and Country Award and attended my Eagle Court of Honor, he left De Soto for a career path that would lead him to the Episcopalian church where he eventually became bishop for the Southwest Region. Reverend Box, a young interim minister who preached well and courageously, and then Reverend Copeland succeeded him. Reverend Copeland, whom I consider among the kindest, most Christ-like people I’ve ever met, still serves De Soto Baptist Church 50 years later. 

 “Who has made the earth a place of rest for you, and the sky your canopy; And sent down rain from the sky; And brought forth from there fruit for your sustenance; Then do not set up rivals to Allah when you know the truth.”
Quran, Sura 2:22

“Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength and with all your mind. And love your neighbor as yourself.”
Luke, 10:27

In college, I attended worship services infrequently. I was a painfully slow reader who barely kept up with class assignments, leaving no time for the Bible. I occasionally engaged in religious discussions in this new and much more diverse community than the one I had left. One was a conversation with a Middle Eastern student of Muslim faith who challenged my belief that Christianity was the only true religion. He thought it ironic and sad that the three great religions from the Fertile Crescent could not get along. “We are all the children of Father Abraham,” he said. I thought of him years later in the wake of the 9/11 attacks. Fear and anger rose up in our community and our country. Muslims were under attack. For the second time in my life, my God side and my Country side were in deep conflict (the first being the Viet Nam War). Justice warranted reprisal against the forces that conducted an unprovoked attack and caused unconscionable harm. It also warranted love, mercy and forgiveness, especially to the innocents who had nothing to do with the attacks. I sought to understand my neighbors and help bring healing in whatever limited ways I could.

“God has no religion.” “I like your Christ, I do not like your Christians. Your Christians are so unlike your Christ.”
Mahatma Ghandi

My faith life rested in a dormant state for several years after college, but then children arrived. I became my parents, wanting my children to have a faith experience. Living in Waldo, we chose Calvary Lutheran pre-school for our daughters and began attending worship (until hearing the minister accuse the office of the papacy of being the anti-Christ) and Sunday school regularly. I liked the discussions and gradually returned to reading the scripture. I read early in the morning because a demanding work life and children allowed for precious little free time. Eventually, I completed reading three different versions of the Bible in addition to the King James I read in my youth. When we moved to southern Johnson County for better schools, we looked for a church and found a small Disciples of Christ congregation meeting in a school. I knew little of the denomination, even though my Uncle Dick was a Disciples minister who served as a missionary during the Congo uprising in the late 1950s and early ‘60s. W found the members of the church warm and welcoming. Some played pivotal roles in raising our daughters. “No creed but Christ” is a common refrain when you ask a Disciples member about church beliefs and dogma. I found it curious that our small congregation was populated by a number of retired clergy. I eventually learned that many Christian ministers of different denominations are transformed in new ways during divinity school, then have to suppress their own beliefs gained through study to stay employed by a congregation. Our congregation provided a safe place for ministers to explore their theology in ways some mainstream or conserving denominations would decry.

“True Christianity must be lived; racial divisions must be banished. Prejudices and lack of real brotherhood are causes of war and disunion among God’s children.”
Paramamahansa Yogananda

My faith journey, theology and spiritual evolution have been influenced significantly by attendance and leadership of my church of nearly 30 years. I have been challenged and guided by its excellent ministers, notably Pastor Rick Butler, who served the church for 17 years, and Herb Kohl, a retired minister who lived a quiet, humble faith while showing bold courage in standing up for justice; a men’s group that meets to read and discuss faith and theology issues weekly at dawn; a documentary series in which Bill Moyers interviewed Huston Smith, one of the foremost authorities on world religions, on common truths many religions share; my elder daughter who introduced me to meditation practices taught by Self Realization Institute, founded by Paramahansa Yogananda, a mystic who grew up in the Hindu caste system, studied Christian scriptures and came to the U.S. in the 1920s to bridge Occident and Orient (and introduce yoga to the West); a woman influential in my daughter’s spirituality whom I met and who later sent me Man’s Eternal Quest by Yogananda.

I have read the Quran in its entirety (some with my men’s group – and yes, it contains passages that sound ominous or threatening, but no moreso than Hebrew and Christian scriptures in the Bible), bits of the Bhagavad Gita and snippets of Daoist wisdom. Of the 7.7 billion people in the world, 2.4 billion are Christian, 1.8 billion are Muslim, 1.2 billion are nonreligious, 1.5 billion are Hindu and 521 million are Buddhist. My takeaway from all this seeking is that no single religion has exclusive blessings, rights, privileges or responsibilities from the Almighty. We have nothing to fear from others’ religions. We have every reason to fear the wackadoodles of every religion. As much as I love Jesus and being involved with my church and the pioneering work it is doing worshiping in community with those in senior living centers – and even though I plan to continue serving God and The Christ in places familiar to me – I am ceasing to self-identify with specific religious affiliations. Child of God and Seeker suit me well. 

“Be Prepared.”
The Scout Motto by Robert Baden-Powell, founder

I must have been born to be a Boy Scout. Everything I learned in Troop 54 seemed to fit what would eventually define my world view: Believing in things larger than yourself. Leaving a place better than you found it. Working hard. Doing good deeds. Helping others along life’s path. Experiencing the awe that is nature. Trying to do your best. Valuing the gifts of mind, body and spirit. The Scout Oath and the 12 points of the scout law are framed together above my desk as my Mission and Vision Statement, providing a constant reminder of the person I was, am and want to be. It represents the philosophy of how I want to live life. The only thing I didn’t like about scouting, especially once I reached high school, was the “goody-two-shoes” image that all too often came with the territory. That kind of image simply didn’t play well with the non-scout boys I hung out with or the girls that attracted my attention.

My introduction to scouting was probably around eight or so with Cub Scouts. Although I touched all the animals required to go through the Cub ranks (bobcat, tiger cub, wolf and bear), I have no memory of my Cub Master or what went on in pack meetings, nor do I remember my den mother (now den leader) or what went on in our den meetings beyond having a snack and playing with friends. However, I do have strong memory of my step up to boy scouts. Our Boy Scout troop always went to Camp Naish the first week of July, reportedly to keep us from getting in trouble with fireworks. My 11^thbirthday would not occur until July 20, so technically I was ineligible. But my dad was well-known in our community and was a friend of the Scout Master. They agreed I was ready, but still, I felt pressure along with the excitement. Adults trusted me. I didn’t want to disappoint either and I really wanted to go to camp. So I studied up to recite what they then called the Scout Oath and Promise. I didn’t know exactly what an oath was, but I knew clearly that it was important to keep your promises. So I pored over the words, taking them to heart rather than simply memorizing for recitation.

Then, I think, but assuredly now, the phrase “do my best” was critical. It allowed – and continues to allow – a promise to be honored that is impossible to keep. No one can live a 100% virtuous life or consistently live up to all the promises and virtues espoused in the Oath and Law. But everyone can strive to do her or his best. One of the great lessons scouting is that each of us falters or fails; it is how we respond to our failings that matters. Erring, learning, forgiving and forging ahead from our mistakes – or those of others – takes us to the places to which we aspire.

Scout Oath

On my honor, I will do my best to do my duty to God and my country and to obey the Scout law; to help other people at all times; to keep myself physically strong, mentally awake and morally straight.

Scout Law:

A Scout is:
Trustworthy
Loyal
Helpful
Friendly
Courteous
Kind
Obedient
Cheerful
Thrifty
Brave
Clean
Reverent

In recent years, Boy Scouts of America (BSA) has struggled with cultural shifts and attitudes. Controversies over creating space for gay and transgendered scouts and gay leaders, and then the admittance of girls rocked the organization, causing many long-time scouts to disaffiliate with the organization that meant so much to them in their youth. I am not one of them. BSA has bravely made accommodation through the years that have allowed, for example, African American boys and boys with disabilities to receive full benefit from the experiences and training scouting offers. Things change. Becoming an Eagle was hard and rare when I was on the trail, just as it was for the generations I followed and that have followed me. I have been privileged to attend several Eagle Courts of Honor for my track athletes I have coached. After hearing their stories and the challenges they faced on their climb, I can say with confidence that this generation represents the high ideals of scouting very well.

The Eagle’s trail is not for everyone and never should be. But it should be an opportunity for all who are willing to endure and sacrifice. If (Boy) Scouts of America focuses on doing and being what its Oath and Law stands for, it will thrive. American society is more diverse than it has ever been. It is time for scouting to reflect all of that diversity. Create challenging trails that all youth ages 11 – 18 can follow, regardless of their race, ethnicity, religion, disability, gender, gender identity or sexual preference.

It would have been unimaginable to not have my scouting identity prominently placed in my special closet. But it would have been equally unimaginable to put it there without making a mental edit. I simply needed to strike “Boy” from the name. Scouts America (my identities closet name – effective today, BSA is officially Scouts BSA) should be relevant to today’s and tomorrow’s leaders. I am confident it will be.

Diving deep into my closet of identities has been an experience of both joy and pain, and ultimately cathartic. At the end of my nine-month sabbatical, I do not have a plan for the what’s next. But knowing what I don’t want to be and having a framework for the kind of person I do want to be in future endeavors gives me a sense of calm. I look forward to peering into my closet and choosing just the right identity for the right moment. Today and most Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays through mid-May it will be student. Next week it will be PaPa, Yeah! I will always be a seeker, I will run and race with joy until I can’t, hopefully decades from now. I will always strive to be a good friend and family member. It would be great if I could break out my coaching hat one of these days, but it’s OK if I don’t.

I take small pride in developing increased patience, the virtue I never regarded very highly, but am now respecting its place in the pantheon of virtues. I am optimistic and enthusiastic about whatever the future holds – for me and the world. The possibilities and opportunities are bountiful.

Identity Categories

Stage of Life: Baby, Boy Toddler, Child, Teen, Male, Man, Kindergartener, Pupil, Student, Adult, Senior citizen

Family/Relationships: Son, Brother, Nephew, Cousin, Husband, Uncle, Father, Parent, PaPa, Friend, Boy friend, Acquaintance, Stranger, Employee, Coworker, Colleague, Mentor, Volunteer, Officiant

Career/Work: Newspaper boy, Farm worker, Gas station attendant, File clerk, Assembly line worker, Weed crew worker, Construction worker, Retail liquor store sales, Retail advertising and marketing director, Hotel marketing director, Hotel public relations director, Creative, Writer, 
Designer, Content Provider, Entrepreneur (marketing communications agency), High school track coach, High school XC coach, Nontrepreneur, Retiree, Substitute Teacher

Affiliations/Community: American, Kansan, De Soto native, Christian, Methodist Church, Seeker, American Baptist, Disciples of Christ, Child of God, Masonic Lodge, Scottish Rite, Boy Scouts of America, Democratic Party, Republican Party, RINO, KU Jayhawk, UDK Advertising Staff, Pi Kappa Alpha fraternity, University of Kansas Alumni Association, Plaza Club, USA Track & Field

 Aspirations: Farmer, Tycoon, Millionaire, Olympian, KU Football Player, Astronaut, Adventurer, Musician, Eagle Scout, God & Country Award-winner, Renaissance Man, Cattle baron, Lawyer, Accountant