Beyond 101: Try logrolling

When I crafted my 101 list, logrolling was nowhere in the realm of activities I thought about trying – but when I unexpectedly discovered a Community Education class offering to teach this very skill, how could I possibly resist? Answer: I couldn’t.

Once I had secured my place in the class, I asked my friends if anyone wanted to join me for an afternoon of attempted logrolling. I fully expected everyone to reply with a quick, “No thanks” – but one of my friends surprised me and said, “Sure, I’d love to!” She registered for the class that same day, and two months later, both of us received instructions intended to prepare us for the adventure that lay ahead:

logrolling invite

That Sunday afternoon, my friend and I met up at a local lake on a stunningly hot and sunny July day. Away from the water, the day would have been exceedingly uncomfortable; but the conditions were absolutely ideal for an afternoon spent in a lake. After checking our names on the class roster, my friend and I waited for the other 16 participants to arrive. We greeted another adventurous woman in her 30s – then watched the remaining 15 class slots fill one-by-one with: children.

After the two instructors (only two for a class of 18?!) provided basic instructions to us all on the mechanics of logrolling, eight boys and seven girls (ages 5-15) eagerly took to the water, while we three adult women looked at the scene a bit less optimistically. The two instructors placed three logs (note: not real wood logs, but garish red-and-yellow plastic things shaped like a log) into the shallow edge of the lake, then looked at one another. It takes two people to ‘staff’ a single log – so how did these two instructors think they would be able to manage three logs between them? Answer: Use all of the class adults (and the sole 15-year-old boy) as their unpaid help.

So let me get this straight: The class organizers thought it would be a good idea to provide a measly three logs for 18 people, and less than a third of the staff necessary to successfully manage those devices? And they expected me not only to work during their class, but to pay them for that “privilege”? What is wrong with this scenario??

So what was supposed to be a fun excursion with my friend turned into me serving as a camp counselor for two hours, with only a handful of breaks in my newly assigned responsibilities to actually attempt the task I signed up to try, i.e., getting on a log and actually trying to walk on it while it rolled!


Though I was irked inside, I suppressed my emotions (as best I could) and helped the two instructors manage the enthusiastic hoard of children who all wanted to get on the log RIGHT NOW! Once each child had a turn, I made sure that my friend and I (and the other adult woman and the 15-year-old boy who had been recruited to ‘help’ [read: work]) also slid into the rotation, so that we received as much ‘log time’ as everyone else.

Facing the log for the first time, I found that I was able to stand up on it with relative ease. Staying on it, though, was another matter altogether. As my feet hugged the curved surface, I looked at the far edge of the log (which the instructors said was supposed to help us maintain our balance) and quickly pitter-pattered my feet up-and-down. Only, I made one ‘pitter’ – and before my other foot could ‘patter’, I realized it was struggling in mid-air – and a second later, my entire body was in the water. I had walked exactly half a step before I fell off the log. Hmm… I put both of my feet on the sandy lake bottom, then re-mounted the log. I stood, looked at the far edge of the log, moved my feet pitter-patter – and then wound up in the lake again. During my first round of logrolling, I never completed more than two consecutive steps.

When my next turn to attempt the task at hand arrived (ten minutes later), I didn’t have much more success than I experienced during my first round of logrolling. In fact, by the end of the day, I had only managed to achieve about seven consecutive steps. (I maintain that had this event occurred on real logs [you know, the items made of wood that are encased in natural grippy bark] I likely could have done better; but even then, I suspect my “personal best” would have maxed out around a dozen consecutive steps.) Meanwhile, many of the little kids were doing amazingly well on the logs! (Now, to be fair, some of them went to a camp last summer where one of their daily activities was logrolling – so I didn’t feel too bad about my relative ‘poor performance’ when compared to their minute-long turns on top of the log.)

My friend on the log. She had also done this once before, and gave some of the little kids a run for their money! [Okay, so since the kids probably only have paper-route money, that analogy probably doesn’t carry a ton of weight… but still. You get the idea.] :)

My friend on the log. She had also done this once before, and gave some of the little kids a run for their money! [Okay, so since the kids probably only have paper-route money, that analogy probably doesn’t carry a ton of weight… but still. You get the idea.] 🙂

Yet despite not having natural proficiency at logrolling, and in spite of effectively being taken advantage of by the class organizers, I still managed to have a decent time at this event. I found myself laughing every time I fell off the log, and eager to pop back up and give it another go. I also thoroughly enjoyed playing in the water at the beach. (While I have visited this park a few different times, I never took the initiative to actually venture into the lake – but now that I have done it once, I will be much more inclined to splash around this site in the future!) All in all, I was glad I tried logrolling. That being said, I don’t think I need to do it again. One afternoon of this activity feels like enough for me. 🙂


[To see expert logrollers in action, check out the video below. They make it look so easy!]

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Beyond 101: Attend the World Series of Poker

Yesterday my sweetie helped me complete #53 on my 101 list (to see a Las Vegas show). Since we spent the bulk of that day doing things on my agenda, I wanted to give my sweetie the opportunity to direct our activities for our second day in the city. After a few rounds of Mississippi Stud (a poker variant) [where my sweetie took $140 from the house – woot!] and a leisurely lunch at one of his favorite Vegas restaurants, we took a shuttle bus to the Rio to seek out the World Series of Poker.

My sweetie is a big poker fan, and has been playing it for over a decade. But in the past several years he has gotten more ‘serious’ about the game – to the point where he has not only read books about poker strategy, but has successfully applied his knowledge to local cash games. Indeed, he earned enough money from those “friendly games” to fund complete trips to Las Vegas. (Trips, as in plural, as in more than one…) Upon arriving in the Vegas poker rooms, my sweetie discovered that he can hold his own among the various individuals who show up at the table – he’s got some skills. (Of course he does.) 🙂

Back in his early learning days, part of his training to better understand how professional players approach the game included watching old episodes of the World Series of Poker (WSOP). These days, my sweetie maintains a level of “ongoing education” (to acquire information about more nuanced poker strategy) by continuing to watch old WSOP broadcasts and events.

This visit to Las Vegas happened to coincide with the first few days of the WSOP tournament, so it was a cool opportunity for my sweetie to get to experience something live that he had only seen on TV. And as the WSOP is often present in our living room back home, I have seen many episodes from the series as well. The WSOP casually intrigues me; while I wouldn’t make a special trip to the event and attend as a spectator, I would happily integrate a visit into existing travel plans to see what the experience was all about – so that’s precisely what my sweetie and I did.

Once my sweetie and I (and another couple who came with us on this leg of our Vegas excursion) arrived at the Rio, we had a slightly difficult time finding the WSOP. I wasn’t quite sure what to expect, but I guess in my mind I imagined that the WSOP tables would be right in the middle of the casino. In reality, we had to walk a good 10 minutes away from the casino in order to locate the WSOP. But once we arrived, I understood why the series simply could not take place on the main floor of the casino. The turnout for this event was HUGE.

For some reason, I thought that a few hundred people participated in the WSOP. (After all, the event does carry a $10,000 entrance fee.) Um, no. In reality, thousands of people enter this competition. THOUSANDS. Last year, 6700 people paid the entrance fee and participated in Day 1 tournament play. Holy buckets. No wonder the WSOP games had to occur in a space separate from the casino’s main floor. On the day my sweetie and I arrived on site, the first rounds of tournament play were taking place in a convention hall. An honest-to-God convention hall:

This looks like a huge convention room...

This looks like a huge convention room…

(Right side of the room.)

(Right side of the room.)

(Left side of the room.)  I have no idea how many people were in this room; several hundred?  A thousand?

(Left side of the room.) I have no idea how many people were in this room; several hundred? A thousand?

With this many gamblers in a single room, one might expect the hall to be a cacophony of noise. In reality, the place was very quiet. Talking was minimal; the predominant sound in the hall was a rapid-fire click click click click click click click of a thousand people toying with plastic poker chips. The noise was unlike any other I have heard before – and it was very cool to be immersed in.

While the sound within the room was quite soothing, the energy of the space was intense. With literally ten million dollars on the line (yup – that’s how much the first-place player takes), the “playing” occurring in the room was serious business (in every sense of that term). Ninety-five percent of the men in the room wore incredibly stoic, almost statuesque I-refuse-to-reveal-the-slightest-damn-thing-about-my-situation faces. Around a third of the men in the room wore sunglasses, and several hundred wore hoodies and headphones as well. Looking at a few guys, I almost laughed out loud seeing the way they were ‘decked out’ (exposing basically just their noses and fingers) – but I managed to restrain myself.

A montage of players in sunglasses, hats, and headphones - and a camera man thrown in there as a bonus.  :)

A montage of players in sunglasses, hats, and headphones (with a camera man thrown in there as a bonus). 🙂

As I walked up and down the paths designated for event spectators, I could assess how good various players were by the intensity around them. Folks who were never going to see Day 2 of action were very casual about the experience, downplaying how much they ‘cared’ about the event. Individuals who had a shot at going further, but who most likely wouldn’t make it to the final rounds of play, were super-intense – like they were clawing their way up a mountain and holding on for dear life. The players who would likely make it to the final tables possessed energy between these two extremes: when their turn to make a move arrived, they became 1000% focused and attentive; but as soon as the action went to the next player, they relaxed a bit (sometimes even chuckling lightly, smiling slightly, or nodding to the audience around them). As a student of psychology, I was fascinated by all of these contrasts and examples occurring within the spectrum of human behavior.

05_second hall

Tables from a second convention room. On the right a guy is getting a drink; on the left another is checking his phone. Some players look “bored”, while others look like they are trying very hard. Some are slouched, others are upright…. it was a very interesting scene to observe.

As my sweetie, the other couple, and I all walked among various halls were WSOP participants engaged in activity, occasionally I would observe my sweetie and his friend nod with reserved excitement towards a man sitting at a nearby table. “There’s Daniel Negreanu,” one of them would ‘casually’ (yet eagerly) indicate for the other to see. “Hey, isn’t that Phil Ivey,” the other might ‘ask’ (tell), with just a hint of delight in their voice. While they would probably never admit it, my perception was that these two grown men were slightly star struck seeing some of their poker idols in person – similar to the way young boys likely feel upon seeing their sports heroes face-to-face at an autograph signing. These moments of male bonding were very sweet exchanges to witness.

After twenty minutes of walking around this “bizarro” business conference, the event organizers announced a 15-minute break for the players – and everyone was ushered (forced) out of the conference hall area, back onto the main casino floor. As I transitioned from the WSOP area to the everyday Rio space, I was saddened to re-enter the noisy, smoky, blingy overwhelm that is traditional Las Vegas. As an observer (i.e., free from the pressure of game play), the WSOP provided a lovely respite from all of the exhausting elements of Vegas. But alas, all things must come to an end. Before we left the casino, I stopped off to use the restroom – where for once, the line for the men’s room stretched far out the door, while the women’s room was completely empty. Yet another unexpected benefit the WSOP provided me. 🙂

Thank you for coming...

Thank you for coming…

…and thank you for leaving.

…and thank you for leaving.


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#53: See Cirque du Soleil the Blue Man Group

I first went to Las Vegas when I was 24 years old.  I made the trip to “Sin City” with my parents and sister, a few months after my younger sibling’s 21st birthday.  When I submitted my vacation request to my employer, my colleagues logically asked where I was going.  When I told them, “Las Vegas,” their eyes turned nostalgic.  Many of them had fond memories of spending a 21st birthday, bachelor/bachelorette party, or guys/girls weekend in that town – and felt compelled to share their experiences and advice with me.  My teammates provided unsolicited insights into the best places to stay, restaurants to seek out, and casinos to try (as well as hotels, dining establishments, and locations to avoid).  After they finished sharing their tales with me, my peers then asked what I planned to do during my first visit to “adult Disneyworld”.  I told them I would likely gamble with my dad, go shopping with my mom, and explore the strip with my sister and/or on my own.  Each colleague I spoke with then asked me, “Are you going to see any shows?”  I was unfamiliar with Las Vegas shows; I thought my peers were asking me if I was planning on seeing a musical or play.  I looked at them quizzically, clearly confused.  One peer explained that in addition to table games and slot machines, nearly every casino in Las Vegas produces and presents a show every night.  The colleague then informed me of the nature of the shows: some are individual performers like singers and magicians (Wayne Newton, Celine Dion, David Copperfield…), some are groups or troupes of artists that perform amazing feats and stunning effects (Cirque du Soleil, Blue Man Group…), and some are of a more, ahem, mature nature (topless and/or nude dancers).

Whoa.  At 24 years old, I simply didn’t realize that Las Vegas offered more than gambling – I thought spending (and hopefully winning) money was the primary draw.  Armed with this new knowledge, I did some research on possible shows my family and I might want to see during our visit.  However, I quickly learned that while these shows may be full of stunning visual effects, they were also stunningly expensive.  Being the frugal gal that I am, I quickly set aside the notion of attending a Las Vegas show.

My family and I had a lovely time taking in the free sights of the city, and enjoyed losing and winning conservative amounts of cash.  The four of us walked the length of the strip and made a trip to downtown, seeing everything from the volcano at the Mirage, to the pirate show atTreasure Island, to the overhead light show in downtown Las Vegas.  We watched dancing water (Bellagio) and roller coasters speeding along the top of a building (New York, New York), and every other spectacle that could be viewed without requiring a ticket (including many of the people all around us).  We took in bright sunshine and unexpected surprises (like a few out-of-place statues from Madame Tussauds wax museum), and had a good time being a family on vacation together.

From that first trip until now, I have returned to Las Vegas several times.  Some of the trips were with my family (including my sweetie) for a standard vacation; a few treks were for work (conferences and training experiences); and one special journey was for my sister’s wedding (which took place at the Bellagio, and was beautiful).  Every time I secured vacation time on my calendar, my colleagues asked what I planned to do in Vegas.  When I told them “gambling, shopping, and walking the strip,” they 1) looked stunned that I planned on gambling [apparently my demeanor doesn’t align with one who enjoys betting money on cards], and 2) asked me, “Aren’t you going to see any shows?”  When I replied, “No, I’m not really a show kind of person,” 9 out of 10 people attempted to convince me otherwise.  “Cirque is amazing!” they would exclaim, or “Celine is a fantastic performer,” they would explain.  Each individual tried to get me to see that not taking in a show while I was in Las Vegas was a mistake, and attempted to get me to reconsider my decision.

After years and years of this topic resurfacing, I finally conceded that perhaps I should take in a show.  Just once, just to see what the hype was all about.  So, I put #53 on my 101 list.

Initially, my plan was to simply attend a Cirque du Soleil show when the traveling troupe came to my city – that way I could save money on airfare, hotel, and other expenses associated with a Las Vegas excursion while still seeing if the “Las Vegas show” buzz was founded.  I kept my eyes open for Amaluna, or Dralion, or even Quidam, but every time I became aware of a show in town, the logistics didn’t work out.  Either I was too late in booking tickets and the show was already sold out, or I had a scheduling conflict I couldn’t resolve (i.e., being out of town).  Finally, I recognized that the Universe wanted me to have the full-on Las Vegas show experience – and I realized that I wanted to share it with my sweetie (as he is a huge Las Vegas fan).  So I set aside my hesitation with an expensive vacation (as best I could, anyway), and told my husband to go ahead and book a long weekend in Vegas for the two of us.  I didn’t care where we stayed, what we ate, or how we spent our time, so long as we saw a show at some point during our trip.

My husband came through like a champ.  A semi-serious gambler during his annual trips to Vegas, he had earned enough “points” to secure us a discounted hotel stay.  He researched flights and obtained very reasonable airfares, and even arranged for our trip to coincide with the travels of another couple, so that we could share some of our time with friends.  The only piece of preparations he didn’t complete was purchasing tickets for us to see a show.

Now, to be fair, my husband did try to get us tickets before we left on our trip.  But every show we had even slight interest in seeing (e.g., nothing that involved nudity) was outrageously priced – we’re talking $200+ per ticket.  After my sweetie explained the current state of shows in Vegas, he reminded me of several half-price ticket kiosks along the strip.  Basically, each morning various kiosks open and sell lower-cost tickets to shows that had not yet sold out for performances occurring later that same evening.  While we wouldn’t know in advance what show we would see (or where the show would take place), we were pretty certain that if we purchased “day-of” tickets, we could get access to a ‘decent’ show at a cost well below $200+.

I agreed that taking advantage of a half-price kiosk offer was a very reasonable option; and heck, it could even add to the excitement of our trip to Vegas.  So I set Planner Stef aside, and decided to embrace Seat-Of-Her-Pants Stef on this trip to Sin City.

My sweetie and I arrived in Las Vegas on a Saturday evening – and after getting to the hotel, maneuvering through the check-in process, and finding some dinner, I was exhausted.  (We had spent three hours that morning in the car, driving back from a visit to my in-laws – so by the time we completed Leg 2 of our day-long trip [e.g., the 3 hour flight to Vegas], I was spent.)  At 9 pm local time (11 pm Minnesota time), I wished my husband good luck as he hit the casino floor, then promptly fell into bed.

Sunday morning my sweetie and I made our way to the half-price ticket kiosk 30 minutes before it opened, and confirmed the show we wanted to see.  The kiosk began processing requests at 10 am – and though there were only five other couples in line before us, another full 30 minutes passed before our turn came.

However, once my sweetie and I arrived at the counter, we received service from a very friendly and helpful attendant.  With a few keystrokes at her computer, she produced a voucher for two tickets to the Blue Man Group.  She then offered us a helpful upgrade: For $2 more, my sweetie and I could purchase a voucher that would give us 25% off our dinner if we dined at one of the casino restaurants.  After confirming that yes, the restaurant had a vegan menu, we happily spent the few extra dollars.  A few more keystrokes, a few initials placed stating that we understood our tickets were non-refundable and non-exchangeable, a credit card swiped, and my sweetie and I were on our way.

With dinner and a show lined up, my sweetie and I spent the rest of the day walking the strip.  He showed me all of the things that had changed since I was last in Las Vegas (nearly a decade ago), took me to one of his favorite ‘hidden gems’ for lunch, and the two of us took some money from the house playing blackjack.  (I made $190 – woot!)  We met up with our friends for dinner, then made our way to the Blue Man Theater to watch the Blue Man Group.

(Sorry for the blurry image - the dim light of the casino paired with the vibrant lights surrounding the theater entrance wreaked havoc on my phone camera.)

(Sorry for the blurry image – the dim light of the casino paired with the vibrant lights surrounding the theater entrance wreaked havoc on my phone camera.)

As I entered the theater space, I was surprised by how small and intimate it was.  I expected a huge venue like an orchestra hall – so I was really pleased when I walked into a more cozy space.  I was also impressed by the sight lines throughout the theater; there really wasn’t a bad seat in the house.

Hopefully this gives you a little perspective on where our seats were.

(Hopefully this gives you a little perspective on where our seats were.)

As my sweetie and I settled into our seats (which were located in the middle of the second row in the second section up from stage left – so basically, in almost the exact middle of the audience), I noticed a large eyeball wearing a red stocking cap floating about the space.  As the eyeball turned, I saw that it had a fish tail on its backside.  Hmm, interesting…..

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The show began at exactly 7 pm – and man, was it a wild ride.  There is simply no way I can begin to articulate the experience via the written word – it really is a show that has to been seen to be understood.  If I had to try and explain the experience to someone, I would summarize it as a hybrid of four different modes of entertainment:

  1. Rhythmic music: The musical focus of the Blue Man Group is drumming – but they do not limit themselves to traditional drums.  Marimbas, tubular bells, tympani, and other melodic percussive instruments are integrated into the show, augmenting the more standard snare and bass drums.  The artists who comprise the Blue Man Group are stellar musicians, and their drumming skills amazed me.  The music they produced was not only technically sound (and complex), but was created with such volume and power that I literally felt the beats reverberate in my chest (which may not sound very fun, but which is actually how I like to experience percussion, believe it or not).  🙂
  2. Comedy: When my sweetie and I purchased our tickets to the Blue Man Group, I expected a show that was 90% music. (I wasn’t sure what the remaining 10% of the time would yield, but I thought probably things like set changes and other technical necessities.)  So I was really surprised when a good third of the show turned out to be comedic.  I was even more impressed when the comedy turned out to be genuinely humorous, given the fact that the three men of the Blue Man Group do not say a single word in the entire show.  Not. One. Word.  Physical comedy can easily reside in the land of slapstick (read: predictable and lame) – but the Blue Man Group’s physical comedy was complex and accessible.  It was my kind of humor (for the most part), and I really enjoyed it.
  3. Visual Spectacle:  With a show comprised of three mute main characters, the visual aspect of the performance is amplified – and the Blue Man Group definitely deliver a visually stunning show.  Lights, graphics, movement, smoke, paint, and water all combined to produce amazing visual displays.  While my ears (and chest) were happy with the musical elements of the experience, my eyes were treated to a plethora of delights, too.
  4. Interactivity: The men of the Blue Man Group definitely feed off of the audience, and tailor each show to the people sitting before them.  At various points in the show all of the men left the stage and entered the audience – and did so in rather outlandish ways. (I.e., walking on top of seat backs, taking candy and popcorn from people, removing one woman’s credit card from her purse…)  At two distinct points in the show a “volunteer” (read: semi-reluctant participant) was selected from the crowd and “invited” (read: nudged) to the stage to engage in a semi-complex interaction with the men.  The first volunteer was the woman sitting next to my sweetie (!) – and she did a fantastic job playing along with the Blue Man Group’s antics.  She really contributed to a great show!  The other volunteer was a man sitting on the opposite side of the audience, and his participation was more limited, but still rather intense.  (The woman’s interaction was more interpersonal, while the man’s interaction was more physical.)  [I know, gender stereotypes… I didn’t create the show, I’m just writing about it.]  Interactivity with the audience extended to props, too.  Remember those big beach balls hanging from the ceiling that I showed you a few paragraphs ago?  Near the end of the show they descended on us, while reams of toilet paper streamed from fans strategically placed throughout the theater space. The Blue Man Group played drums frenetically during this segment of the show, and the total scene felt like a crazy frat party (except with little kids and old people in attendance in addition to college kids and 20/30-somethings, and without the yucky come-ons and unwanted sexual attention).  It was pretty crazy.

The entire performance ran 90 minutes, and by the end of it I was exhausted.  It was very fun and entertaining, and I was genuinely impressed with the creativity and novelty that went into creating so many different segments of the show – but by the time 8:30 pm came, I had had enough.  When the theater doors opened, I was ready to leave and get some quiet and fresh air.  (Which don’t actually exist in Las Vegas…)  But as I made my way to the performance exit, I turned to my right and saw one of the “blue men” walking immediately next to me.  I smiled at him, and he looked back at me with those big, curious eyes.  As we both reached the theater lobby, he pulled off to the side and began posing with children who wanted their picture taken with him.  Aww… so kind.

Now that I have experienced a Las Vegas show, I can see why people get ‘hooked’ on these outings.  If I lived in or around Las Vegas, I could see myself venturing into the city a few times a year to check out the entertainment.  But I don’t think I would arrange a cross-country trip to attend these performances.  However, I will now have my eyes open for traveling shows that tour the Midwest – and if one comes through Minneapolis, I will be a lot more interested in checking it out.  Heck, I might even travel to St. Paul.  😉


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#100: Participate in a Tricycle online retreat

I began meditating in earnest back in October 2009. I had spent the previous eighteen months working on some personal issues, and had arrived at a point where I was in a better spot, but still in need of self-care. I had heard so many reports regarding the myriad benefits that meditation could provide (everything from curing physical ailments, to easing mental pain, to even providing spiritual enlightenment) that I decided a few minutes of sitting quietly, breathing and focusing each morning would probably be a good activity to begin. So I spent most of the summer of 2009 trying to meditate – and failing miserably. After a minute or two my legs would hurt, or my back would ache, or my mind would be so ridiculously bored that I would abandon the session just minutes after it started. I left each attempt feeling frustrated, annoyed, and/or defeated. Not exactly the end results I was hoping for.

After several months of experiencing growing hostility towards the whole notion of meditation, I learned of a retreat opportunity that basically promised to give people a solid start on the path of meditation. When I researched the center and found out that not only was it just a day’s drive away, but also completely free, I signed up for the next available session (after consulting with my husband – who wanted to make sure that the place wasn’t some sort of cult. It wasn’t.). 🙂 Shortly thereafter, I spent 12 days in a very intensive meditation experience; and while I absolutely hated parts of it (and yes, tears were shed), I also deeply appreciated some moments. Most importantly, though, I left the center with solid instructions on how to meditate – and “proof” that I could do it. I drove away from the center with an established daily mediation practice – which was exactly what I had hoped for.

It’s been almost five years since that retreat, and I am happy to report that I have maintained a daily meditation practice. I rise early and meditate each morning, even when on vacation, traveling, visiting family, taking road trips, etc. – and the practice has served me well. While I haven’t attained pure enlightenment, I absolutely notice a difference in my mental state on the few days each year when I don’t/can’t meditate – and I definitely feel better (and behave better) on the days when I do meditate.

Meditation is a skill – and while daily practice helps to maintain current levels of “proficiency”, more focused experiences assist with deepening and growing the ability. (It’s similar to an athlete engaging in daily practice drills versus a more intensive training camp.) I have been on a few shorter, less intense retreats over the past few years (some lasting a week, others a few days, still others just an afternoon), and have gained positive insights and perspectives at each one.

But getting away (even for a “mini-retreat”) can sometimes pose a challenge with the various responsibilities I have in everyday life. As much as I wonder how my life might have been different if 1) I knew about Buddhism before 2009, and/or 2) I had somehow chosen to be a nun versus a layperson, I know enough to know that such speculation is not only unhelpful, but unhealthy. I am who I am, and I have the life I have. My “job” in this lifetime isn’t to wonder ‘What if?’ (or worse, pine for a different past), but instead to accept what is, and to make the most of what might be ahead of me.

So instead of wishing for things that I can’t have, I choose to research what is possible. One resource I found early in my discovery journey was Tricycle – a non-profit educational organization dedicated to making Buddhist teachings and practices broadly available. Among their many resources are a quarterly magazine, books, blog posts, interviews, films, and online retreats.

I subscribed to their magazine, read a few of their e-books, poked around their website and located several interesting posts and informative interviews – but resisted the idea of participating in one of their online retreats. I’m not exactly sure why… Did I think I lacked the discipline to complete a multi-week commitment? [Hardly. Not only did I completed multiple years of formal education as a younger adult, but over the past 30+ months I have worked through 90% of the 101 tasks I declared I wanted to complete just over 2 years ago… I think my ability to follow through speaks for itself.] Was I skeptical about the benefits I might gain from a virtual versus in-person interaction? [Not really. I have learned volumes through listening to a variety of podcasts, so I know from first-hand experience that digital formats yield just as much opportunity for meaningful knowledge exchange and acquisition as face-to-face sharing.] Did I not want to invest the time required for this pursuit? [Unlikely. I have willingly spent weeks of vacation sitting in silence on a cushion instead of on a sunny beach.] I truly don’t know what my hang-up was; all I know was that each time I considered a virtual retreat, I felt resistance – so I set the idea aside.

So, all of this is how item #100 made it onto my 101 list. I knew if I made a public commitment to complete an online retreat, it would get done. I’m a woman of my word, if nothing else. 🙂

Last fall I spent several days at a wellness spa. In addition to taking yoga classes, receiving massages, and lounging on a deck chair, I started (and completed) an online retreat.

When I reviewed the various topics available, I had a bit of difficult deciding which one to select – there were so many juicy items to choose from! Should I focus on how to befriend my perpetually thinking mind? How to become more comfortable with death? How to bring more ease and joy into practice? Eventually I decided on a retreat titled “Natural Bravery”. Despite my willingness to try almost anything, and my sincere comfort with looking “silly” (foolish, naïve, etc.), I still live with a lot of fear. I am working hard to not allow fear to prevent me from doing what I want, or to induce incredible anxiety within me (as it has for most of my life) – but this is work. So I thought of all the possible retreat topics to explore, I might benefit most directly from this one.

The retreat was structured as a series of four online videos, each 20-30 minutes long. The teacher gave a talk on one specific facet of the overall retreat topic in each video, then offered items to reflect on, and finally provided a few meditation instructions to follow. The intention was that a retreatant would watch one video each week, and perform the closing “assignments” over the course of the next seven days – so that each retreat would last for a month.

I suspected that if I attempted to follow this suggested outline, I would abandon the retreat around the second or third week. I could just see myself getting busy, losing focus, or most likely tiring of the assignments. (I could already feel the weight of an anticipatory cognitive burden, and it felt gross.) So I opted to complete one video each evening during my five days/four nights at the wellness spa. (Convenient, non?)

So… how did it go? Interestingly, the online retreat experience was rather anti-climactic. The videos were very similar to audio podcasts I have been listening to for the past few years. As I watched the online retreat videos, I was reminded of positive messages, and I received some helpful instructions and engaging topics/questions to reflect on – but these items and experiences weren’t much different from the “interactions” I have had while driving my car and listening to podcast speakers. Could it be that I have been engaging in daily “mini-retreats” for the past several years without even realizing it?

Maybe. (Probably.) While I gained some new perspectives about fear, courage, bravery, and personal power during this video retreat, I also became aware that this overall experience wasn’t really novel for me – that I have already been using 21st century technology to learn from present-day teachers about timeless universal truths that are slowly transforming my current life. That realization buoyed my heart, and brought a smile to my lips.



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Never doubt the compassion of strangers

I adore walking outside in the gorgeous summer months.  During my daily outdoor endeavors I often pass runners and cyclists, parents with children, humans with pups.  I smile at each of these beings, and continue on my merry way.

Occasionally, though, I cross paths with a driver who is speeding along too quickly for our  neighborhood streets, or a menacing animal, or some other danger.  Usually the “threat” is short-lived, and only briefly unsettling.  Annoying, certainly, but otherwise uneventful.

However, this afternoon my route intersected with someone who just didn’t fit the surroundings.  The man I encountered had an air about him that my gut instinctively knew wasn’t ‘right’.  While I am a trusting soul, I also know when to listen to my inner inklings and modify my behavior accordingly.  And while I am a smallish woman, I also know how to stand tall and project a powerful sense of courage (and awareness).  I looked the man in the face (acknowledging his presence and letting him know that *I* knew he was nearby), then casually crossed to the other side of the street.

The man followed me.

Fine.  I started walking towards a more heavily traveled street, confident that the consistent stream of traffic along that route would keep me safe.  But three blocks stood between where I currently was and where I felt I needed to be.  While I wasn’t scared, I did feel unsettled.  Uneasy.

Apparently my feelings were not unfounded; as I walked confidently-but-briskly towards the more heavily traveled road, a fellow citizen happened to drive past the man and I.  The driver’s gut must have sent him some sort of indicator as well, because upon seeing the two of us, he slowed his vehicle.  The driver arrived at the intersection that I was aiming for before I did; but even though his path was clear, he stopped his vehicle at the “T” in the road.  Instead of turning right (as his car’s blinker indicated was his intention), he waited until I arrived at that same fork in the road.  When I made my turn onto the busy street, the driver continued watching me and the man who was following me.  The man on foot saw that the driver was now watching him, and decided he had better change his plans.  The man on foot turned 180 degrees, and started walking away me and the driver, heading back in the direction he had originally come.

Once the driver saw that 1) the man on foot changed his course, and 2) I was now among lots of other people, he smiled gently at me, then completed his right turn and drove away.

Now, I can’t say whether anything would have happened had the driver not shown up on the scene when he did.  The area I was walking in is a residential neighborhood with many houses lining the road; I imagine that on the off-chance something had actually occurred, a good scream or two would have called at least a few neighbors outside to investigate.  And I wasn’t actually scared at all during the entire situation – just uneasy.  Still, I’m very grateful that a Good Samaritan chose to acknowledge his sense of something feeling “off”, and decided to take a small-yet-powerful action to help a fellow citizen (instead of rationalizing the scene and turning his back on a stranger).  To the unknown, unnamed commuter who took a few extra minutes at the end of a long work day to help ensure the safety of some random woman on a walk: thank you.



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#40: Visit the James J Hill House (a Minnesota Historic Site)

Several years ago, I spent two months in a 5th grade classroom as a Student Teacher (completing a requirement for my MAED [Master’s of Arts in Education]). My supervising teacher was a middle-aged man named Mr. P, and he was a wonderful educator. In his twenty-plus years of teaching he had found an exceptional balance between discipline and fun, seriousness and play. He knew when he needed to transition from the role of “teacher” to instead become a mentor, a parent, or a friend. He pushed the kids who needed extra challenges, and rallied for the ones who struggled. He showed me what skilled teaching looks like, and helped me develop my own sense of confidence and presence in front of what I consider to be the most challenging group of people to present to: children.

One of the many tasks I helped Mr. P complete during our semester together was planning class fieldtrips. One location he was adamant about taking his students was the James J Hill House. He told me that two of his favorite locations were The Grand Tetons and the JJ Hill House (as he fondly called it [as if he and the house were besties who had nicknames for one another]). While he couldn’t manage the logistics required to take 28 ten-year-olds over 1,000 miles away from their homes in a trek to Wyoming, he could secure a school bus and get them across town. He had made the trip to the Hill House with each of his classes for over 20 years, and expected to continue the tradition for as long as he managed a classroom.

I don’t know why Mr. P was such a fan of the James J Hill house. In looking at their website, to me the place seemed be just another big house constructed in the 1800s by rich white guys. Yet, I had (and continue to have) very high regard for Mr. P – so if he said the JJ Hill house was something worth seeing, I had to believe that making the visit would be worth my while. So when I created my 101 list over two years ago, I included the James J Hill house (and all of the other Minnesota Historical Sites) in honor of my teaching mentor. Mr. P, this one’s for you.

Earlier this week I visited the James J Hill website to secure information necessary to complete this task (i.e., location, hours of operation, parking situation, etc.). When I clicked on the “Plan a Visit” link, I read, “The best way to see the James J. Hill House is to take a 75-minute guided tour. Reservations are recommended.” Noted. With this prompting, I called the house and asked if I could be included on their Saturday 2 pm tour. The kind receptionist told me that she could accommodate my request. Boom. Done.

I arrived at the Hill house ten minutes before 2 pm on a gorgeousSaturday afternoon. Walking through the main door, I was warmly greeted by a receptionist who confirmed my name on the tour roster, then invited me to read through a brochure that provided an overview to the house or peruse the gift shop while I waited for the event to begin. I chose the first option, and began establishing my bearings with the space I was about to explore. (Note: If you want to pause the below slide show at any point, hover your mouse over the bottom-middle portion of the picture, then click on the middle “pause” button. To resume the slide show, click on that same middle button [which will then be a “play” button].)

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Just a few minutes later (promptly at 2 pm), a woman in her late 50s gathered the tour group, smiled broadly at us, and welcomed us to the James J Hill House with such sincerity that I wondered if she was related to the family. (She’s not – she’s just a genuinely kind person.) Before she began her comments, I quickly looked around at my fellow tour participants – and was surprised by both the number and diversity of people on the tour. With the weather outside being so amazing, I had expected just a few people to choose to spend part of the afternoon inside a historical site. However, 18 people stood along side me – and a few of them were in their 20s! A few more were in their 30s, and the remainder of the group was evenly spread between 40-70 year olds. Quite unexpected.

Before we walked anywhere, our tour guide shared the basics of the Hill family and their locally-known house. Much of the information she shared I had read just a few minutes ago (in the brochure), but I did learn a few new facts:

  • In addition to eight of their children, the Hills had 10-12 servants who also lived with them in the house.
  • To accommodate the needs of their family, servants, social commitments, and social status, the Hills built their home large. Specifically, the home has 42 rooms (22 of which have a fireplace). As our guide explained, “At the time of James J Hill, a man built his home to reflect his level of success.”
  • Not only is the home massive, it was also incredibly modern for its time. For example, even though it was completed in 1891, it had electric lights, indoor water throughout (cold and hot!), electric heating, gas fireplaces, a security system that included electric-wiring for the windows (so an alarm would sound if a window was opened when the system was active)… Not only was Mr. Hill rich, but he was a truly smart, practical, and strategic man. [More on him later.] 🙂
  • When both James and Mary Hill died, their children inherited the home. Not wanting to be burdened with maintaining such a massive space, they donated the house to the Catholic church [if you scroll to the very end of this blog post you’ll see why]. The church turned the home into a nun’s teaching college, but after 50 years decided to donate it to the Minnesota Historical Society (MNHS). In addition to providing tours, MNHS also uses the space to host weddings, concerts, Easter egg hunts, winter holiday events, and even high school proms. Which made me pause and think, “I wonder what Mr. Hill thinks of his ‘perfect’ home being occupied by obnoxious teenagers for multiple evenings each year…?”

Once our group learned the basics of the house, our guide began to walk us through the home. As we stopped in the first room (a sparsely decorated sitting area), our guide mentioned that many of the rooms in the home were lacking in furniture, since much of it was lost over the years. (While the Hill children didn’t want the house itself, they did help themselves to the contents within it.) However, every room had a photo in it that shows what the space looked like when it was fully decorated. While these visuals weren’t quite the same as walking into a fully outfitted room, the images were very helpful in sharing a sense of what the space truly felt like back in the 1890s:

10_room photo documentation

As we turned to leave this first room, our guide directed our attention to a black gate blocking an exterior door, and told us that this was original to the Hill home (not an addition the MNHS made). Mr. Hill took security very seriously, so in addition to the wire-lined windows (mentioned previously), he ensured that every door had a wrought iron gate that pulled across it (and slid into a pocket door when not in use, so as to not be an eyesore). Impressive.


From here, our group walked to an art gallery within the home. At first, I though this room was a space the MNHS had re-purposed from its original intended use – but our guide made clear that Mr. Hill collected art over his lifetime, and designed this room specifically with the intention of showing off his acquisitions. (Interesting fact: Hill spent $1.7 million on art. Holy buckets! I wonder how much that would equate to in 21st century dollars?)

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Many of the pieces Hill housed in this space are now in galleries across the state, so the MNHS does take liberty to show pieces from local modern artists alongside some of the original works Hill displayed. The set below made me laugh out loud; I bet the Victorian, prim-and-proper Hill patriarch never imagined THIS would be in his home! 🙂

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Exiting the art gallery, our group walked into the Grand Hall of the house. This is where all guests were received, as well as where entire evenings were spent. Our guide let us know that the space measures 2,000 square feet. Did you catch that? A hallway that is two-thousand square feet. (I.e., this “hallway” is bigger than my entire house.) Crazy.

16_grand hall

We continued walking, and entered a room where some articles of clothing that the Hill family wore were on display. These are items that James, Mary, and their daughters and sons wore on a “regular” day; I still can’t get over how fancy ‘everyday’ life was for them!

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Leaving the room, I saw a piece of furniture that caught my attention. I adore rocking chairs, and imagine this one was comforting to a family that, despite their immense wealth, may not have known a lot of genuine comfort. I could visualize some of the kids sitting side-by-side on the seat, cuddling with each other and feeling soothed by the gentle-yet-constant motion of the chair, and the image made me smile.

19_rocking chair

Moving on, we made our way to the formal dining room. Another massive space, it was designed expressly to impress guests. The table is able to seat over 40 people at once (it can be expanded by dropping in additional leafs), and when a dinner party was held, guests were confronted with a 14-piece flatware setting.

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Yet while the Hill family could put on a good show (and from all accounts, they did this regularly and convincingly), when they were alone in the home they put all of the pomp aside, and kept things casual and intimate – as demonstrated by the family dining room, where the Hills ate their “everyday” meals:

22_family dining

The Hill family portion of the tour wrapped up with a walk through their living room and personal library. While the den didn’t do much for me, I adored the library; it was dark, but felt super-cozy – like wrapping a nice blanket around me on a cold winter day. Had I lived in the Hill house, I imagine I would have spent many hours in that space.

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(And since we’re on the topic of libraries: Mary Hill kept a diary for nearly 40 years – and all of it has been digitized and is available online. So if you want a peek into what this woman scribed during the second part of her life, you can explore her journal entries here.)

At this point, our tour group took a forced “intermission” and sat down to watch a 10-minute video on the life of JJ Hill. I’m not usually a fan of videos on a museum tour, but this one moved quickly and shared a lot of cool details about the life and times of Mr. Hill. Here are a few fun factoids I learned:

  • James Hill wasn’t born into wealth; he made all of his own money. While many people disliked him (and for good reason), I gotta give him props for working hard and truly earning every penny he acquired.
  • Hill created the Great Northern Railway – and was on-site for the construction of the entire line.
  • Hill also created the Stone Arch Bridge, and helped found the Minneapolis Institute of Arts.
  • He was a man of both business and art, of logic/reason and aesthetics. This balanced set of attributes is one reason why the house is so well-designed; Hill was strategic and practical. (It’s why 16 of the 22 fireplaces in the home are gas – Hill didn’t want to perpetually clean ashes. It’s why the interior of the home is made of brick walls and steel beams – Hill knew the risks of fire, and wanted his home to be indestructible [and it is]. It’s why the house has such a sophisticated-yet-unobtrusive security system – Hill wanted to balance safety with visual appeal.) Say what you will about the man, he was one smart, future-thinking guy.

When the video ended our guide resumed the walking portion of the tour through the home – but the remainder of the spaces we visited focused on the Hill’s servants. Which actually makes sense; considering that the Hill house staff were just as numerous as the Hill family itself, it’s only logical that we should spent as much time exploring the spaces they occupied as the rooms the Hill’s populated. First up: the staff living quarters:

Note how sparse and plain this space is, compared to how elaborate and ornate the other rooms in the house are.

Note how sparse and plain this space is, compared to how elaborate and ornate the other rooms in the house are.

While the servant’s living rooms were on the third floor, the majority of their time was spent in the basement – another plain space. (Though I have to say that compared to many present-day “unfinished” basements, this one is actually quite nice! While it does have exposed pipes and beams overhead, it also has pretty fancy tile and wood throughout.)


Once our feet touched the basement floor, our group took an immediate right turn – and saw the Hill house servant command center:

27_call tower

When a family member wanted a servant, s/he rang the buzzer in whatever room s/he was in – and the corresponding arrow activated on the top section of the above switchboard (along with a loud buzzing sound – like an old English house buzzer). Once the family member was placated, the arrow was reset to neutral, and the panel awaited the next request. Interestingly, this switchboard was also the way the home’s Head of Security was notified if one of the window wires got tripped. The appropriate arrow on the bottom section of the board would spring up, and a different (but equally loud) alarm would sound. With that notification, the security man would “grab the silver-barreled Colt .45 that Mr. Hill gave him”, and investigate. (Fun fact #1: The present-day family members of that now-deceased security man still have the gun that Hill issued. Fun fact #2: The home was never broken in to.)

Feeling safe (wink), our tour group moved to the next-most-important room in the home: the kitchen. It was interesting to note that the very large space had absolutely no cupboards (they weren’t “invented” until the 19th century). But it did sport a large work table, and industrial-size range/stove:


From here, we walked down a very short hallway and entered the laundry room – which turned out to be just as large as the kitchen. With all of the clothing that eight children and two adults require (as well as uniforms for an entire staff), I imagine washing garments was a never-ending task. Nor an easy one; just check out all of the gear required to clean clothes circa 1890:

Just as present-day restaurants use a three-sink cleaning method for dishes (wash, rinse, sanitize), the Hill staff used a three-sink method for cleaning clothes (soak, scrub, rinse). [The final sink was used for “blueing” – a precursor to bleaching.

Just as present-day restaurants use a three-sink cleaning method for dishes (wash, rinse, sanitize), the Hill staff used a three-sink method for cleaning clothes (soak, scrub, rinse). [The final sink was used for “blueing” – a precursor to bleaching.

This large iron was used for sheets, tablecloths, and other sizeable flat items. It was very new-to-market when the Hills purchased it back in the late 1890s.

This large iron was used for sheets, tablecloths, and other sizeable flat items. It was very new-to-market when the Hills purchased it back in the late 1890s.

On sunny, dry days, all clothing was hung on a line to dry. But what to do on rainy (or winter) days? The items were draped over small dowels, then the panel was pushed in to an enclosed space that had hot air blowing in the back. Ingenious! (And kind of wild.)

On sunny, dry days, all clothing was hung on a line to dry. But what to do on rainy (or winter) days? The items were draped over small dowels, then the panel was pushed in to an enclosed space that had hot air blowing in the back. Ingenious! (And kind of wild.)

What to do about socks? (I imagine it would be easy for them to fall off the slats [and maybe catch fire?].) Apparently this is the answer.

What to do about socks? (I imagine it would be easy for them to fall off the slats [and maybe catch fire?].) Apparently this is the answer.

Before our tour came to a close, our guide walked us through a final room: the furnace. In an ordinary home, a furnace is probably not anything noteworthy. But in a 42-room mansion built in the 1890s in one of the coldest states in the Union, a powerful furnace is a necessity. And boy howdy, did this furnace deliver:

Just look at the size of this beast! (For comparison, look at the standard-size wheelbarrow that sits in front of the furnace door.) While the specific dimensions of this furnace weren’t shared, I have to guess it was at least 40 feet tall, and maybe 20 feet wide? (And who knows how deep it ran.) Absolutely insane. We were told that a horse-drawn truck delivered mountains of coal to the home on a weekly basis. Again, insane.

Just look at the size of this beast! (For comparison, look at the standard-size wheelbarrow that sits in front of the furnace door.) While the specific dimensions of this furnace weren’t shared, I have to guess it was at least 40 feet tall, and maybe 20 feet wide? (And who knows how deep it ran.) Absolutely insane. We were told that a horse-drawn truck delivered mountains of coal to the home on a weekly basis. Again, insane.

After marveling at the sheer scale of the furnace, our guide asked if we had any final questions. (This tour group was great, and only asked a handful of appropriate questions during the entire 90 minutes we were all together [unlike the pesky group at the Alexander Ramsey house].)   Once our final curiosities had been placated, she released us through the servant entrance/exit, and invited us to stroll the grounds before departing for the afternoon. I walked from the back of the home to the front, snapping a few photos along the way:

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I can see why Mr. P is such a fan of the James J Hill house. The story of James J has lots of great morals (including the positive story of earning what one receives, the example of supporting art and design while pursuing business), and the home shows great contrasts between life 125 years ago versus now. The staff at this site is also quite good; our tour guide was one of the best I have come across in my two-plus years of engaging in various adventures. (She provided appropriate amounts of information and levels of detail, and kept us moving forward without ever making us feel rushed.) And the home itself is truly impressive. While initially I was hesitant (almost resistant) to complete this 101 task, I can now say not only am I glad I did it, but I would take family or friends here if they wanted to see it and experience it again.

36_JJ Hill House


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#28: Participate in a National Day of Prayer

If you have been following this blog for a while, you know that I am a spiritual seeker with an insatiable desire to learn more about new-to-me topics – especially ones that help me better understand people and cultures that are different from me. (And if you are newer to this blog, no worries! Just read the items linked above, and you’ll be all caught up.) 🙂

So when I first learned about the National Day of Prayer a few years back, I thought it would be a good event for me to participate in at least one time – just so I could see what it was about, and perhaps gain more insights into and/or appreciation for conservative Christians (a religious group I do not understand [and often disagree with]).

I had no idea how an event like this might unfold, so I think I went into it with minimal expectations – which I like, as that allows me to more fully experience whatever actually occurs (versus get bogged down by what I think “should” happen). I did my best to walk through the main doors of a local participating church with an open mind and a receptive heart, ready to be led in whatever way the universe/god/a higher power felt best.

I arrived at the designated house of worship at 6:20 am. As I made my way into the church’s foyer, I was greeted warmly by a middle-aged woman (who was incredibly alert for the early hour). She directed me to a gathering room where the event was about to begin, invited me to put on a name tag, and encouraged me to help myself to whatever refreshments I might want. After securing a cup of tea, I sat down at a table next to a newly married couple in their early 20s, a 47-year-old writer and father of two teenage girls, one semi-retired woman in her 50s, and two retired stay-at-home moms in their early 60s. We each took turns introducing ourselves, and engaged in polite chit-chat as more people trickled into the room.

By 6:30 am, the meeting space held twenty people. All of us were white, and (save for the newly married couple) middle-aged or slightly older. The chipper woman who greeted me when I first entered the church walked to the front of the room, stood behind a podium, and asked us all to stand and say the Pledge of Allegiance. We did as we were asked, and at the end of the recitation the woman smiled at us and said, “That warms my heart. You know, we don’t say the Pledge very often any more, do we?” She continued to explain that she recently volunteered at the elementary school her daughter attends, and was shocked to discover that the students no longer say the Pledge each morning. She concluded, “It’s appalling that we have removed God and country from our schools – especially now, as this great nation needs our prayers and repentance more than ever.”

At this moment, I knew my best course of action for making it through the rest of the event without offending anyone, making myself irate, or being kicked out of the building, was to approach this task like a reporter would approach an assignment – to take nothing personally, but instead make notes of the facts from a purely objective standpoint. I quickly pulled out a small blank journal and pen, and documented the high-level events that transpired.

The gathering was structured as follows: One pre-determined speaker went to the podium and read Bible passages/offered prayers relevant to one particular facet of the country. Once the leader finished his/her prepared comments, anyone else in the room could take a few minutes and share a prayer on that topic area if they wanted to. After everyone who wanted to offer a prayer had done so, the next leader came to the podium, and the process repeated itself with the second topic area, then the third, and so on, until all seven topic areas had been addressed.

The first prayer topic was “Our Government”, and the Bible passages that were read were:
– First Timothy 2:1-2
– Exodus 18:21
– Proverbs 21:1
– Psalms 9:20

Topic #2 was “The Military”, and the Bible passages offered were:
– Psalms 18:32
– Psalms 28:7
– Isaiah 20:49
– Psalms 34:18
– Deuteronomy 33:12
– Lamentations 3:21-22
– Romans 5:5
– Numbers 30:2
– Ephesians 6:11
– Psalm 91

The leader made a special effort to call attention to those who are currently serving in the military, those who are or have been wounded, those who have died in service, veterans, and the families of all service members past and present.

The third focus area was “The Media”, and the leader for this section offered a single Bible verse: Philippians 4:8.

After the media came “Business, Industry, and Commerce”, and the leader here cited:
– Isaiah 48:17
– Deuteronomy 30:2-4
– Job 42:10
– Malachi 3:10
– Matthew 6:19-20
– Luke 19:13

At this point, when the opportunity for open prayer sharing came, I couldn’t hold my tongue any longer. After hearing no less than five different petitions for more domestic manufacturing and a revival of Christ-centered businesses whose employees are unafraid to exert their First Amendment rights to practice their Christian faith boldly and proudly in the workplace, I calmly-but-confidently offered prayers for: fair wages around the world, environmental protection (specifically, 1] that businesses stop stripping the land of natural resources simply so that they can access cheap fuel, and 2] that businesses take steps to reduce pollution that currently results from cheap mass manufacturing), and that all beings receive what they need in order to live healthy, happy, and peace-filled lives.

Interestingly, once I finished my prayer, the next speaker scrambled to the podium and began the next topic area, which was “Education”. Here again a sole Bible verse was offered: Proverbs 3:5-6.

After Education came “The Church”, and the speaker read aloud one passage: Matthew 16.

The event closed with a focus on “Family”, and this leader called attention to Bible verses:
– Psalms 92:12-15
– Hebrews 10:23-24
– John 10:4-5
– Isaiah 54:13
– Luke 2:52
– Psalms 102:18

Throughout the course of the above readings, this speaker focused on multiple elements of family, including parents, spouses, children, and grandchildren.

During each speaker’s prepared comments as well as during the open sharing sections, I took notes of various words and phrases that kept surfacing.  Here’s a visual summary of the session themes:

National Day of Prayer wordle

When the final segment of “open sharing” drew to a close, the original facilitator (i.e., the greeter woman who led us through the Pledge of Allegiance) encouraged each of us to make prayer an integrated, working part of our daily lives, then cheerily wished that we all “Have a good morning!” I found this happy send-off rather jarring, because for the previous two hours, most of the individuals in the meeting room had been at some stage of crying (some weeping mildly and silently, others with tears flowing freely, and a few wailing aloud) and complaining (or “praying”, as they liked to call it). Yet on a dime, the tears were wiped away, the pained faces were replaced with smiles, and everyone happily skipped off to the parking lot to slip into their vehicle and drive away. I was simultaneously stunned and surprised.

During the event, so many things were said that I do not agree with (and in some cases I outright oppose), and hearing the barrages of comments hit on many raw nerves within me. But I tried to let those things slide away (as I know in my heart that the majority of the sentiments shared during the gathering were fear-based and simply untrue), and instead chose to focus on the few messages of genuine peace and love that did surface – such as:

  • “Bless the work of the men and women in the military, that their light would shine on all of those around them as they move throughout the world.” [My interpretation: Let these individuals be instruments of peace and love.]
  • “Place a hedge of protection around the little hearts and minds of our children, that they may remain centered on what is good, honorable, and true.” Amen to that! Imagine what could happen if all children remained untainted by prejudice and hate.
  • “Deliver us from a world of self-absorbed media and meaningless trivia.” Absolutely. If all people traded one hour of reading Facebook for one hour of volunteering, think of the tremendous positive impact that could have! (Not only on the people being ‘helped’, but also [especially] on the ones giving the ‘helping’.)
  • “So often it is about us. Break us of our selfishness.” Yes, yes, yes.
  • “Prayer matters. What we think about and pray for are the ripples that begin to move us to action.” So true. What one thinks, one becomes. So choose thoughts wisely – because ideas become intentions, and intentions ultimately turn into actions.

My intention for this 101 item was to gain insight into (and maybe even appreciation for) conservative Christians. While this experience did more to confirm my initial perceptions of this religious group than it did to offer me new perspectives, I am still pleased that I participated in a National Day of Prayer event at least once. (And who knows, maybe I was able to affect a few hearts or minds in the room?) That being said, I don’t think I need to go to one of these gatherings again next year (or the year after that, or the year after that…) I feel better sticking to my more liberal ways. 🙂


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