After seeing “A Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood,” based on the story of the life and legacy of Fred Rogers, known forever as “Mr. Rogers,” and after reading Tom Junod’s Esquire article that inspired the story and the movie

And eating a fine slice of upside down cake (it didn’t start out upside down, but it was accidentally dropped, the whole cake, whoopdedoo) with buttery cream cheese icing and a mug of hot tea, honey lavender, with pretty creamy white roses just a hair past perfect in a silver vase

But the roses and the cake had sparked hurtful words earlier and so there was sadness mixed with the sweet and loneliness because the person being celebrated wasn’t there

And the little cat with the big dark eyes kept jumping onto the table and nudging the fork and the stray rose leaf and the needy golden retriever insisted on having treats in a ball he rolled around on the floor with his nose

The giant saint named Bernard laid down under the window away from the growls of the golden and the basset just plain disappeared, probably heading for his soft bed

Misunderstandings happen when expectations clash

But the sign for friendship is interlocked index fingers, one from each hand.

“The connections we make in the course of a life — maybe that’s what heaven is, Tom. We make so many connections here on earth. Look at us — I’ve just met you, but I’m investing in who you are and who you will be, and I can’t help it.”

Mr. Rogers, to Tom Junod

Asking for courage is like asking for faith, or patience – you don’t get a magical infusion of the thing. You get opportunities to develop it.

“I wanted you to see what real courage is, instead of getting the idea that courage is a man with a gun in his hand.  It’s when you know you’re licked before you begin but you begin anyway and you see it through no matter what.  You rarely win, but sometimes you do.”  ~ Harper Lee, To Kill a Mockingbird

I think maybe, just maybe, courage is determination wrapped up in persistence. Courage is not knowing the outcome, or knowing the odds are not in your favor, and trying anyway. It’s facing an unknown, unsettling, hard, scary, sometimes even dreadful thing. Taking its measure. Refusing to be defined by it. Formulating a plan. Stepping out. Seeing progress, which feeds more progress. Getting that sense of having turned a corner, and feeling the euphoric rush of certainty that you will see it through.

Courage is a touchstone.

“Courage is not simply one of the virtues, but the form of every virtue at the testing point.” ~ C.S. Lewis

What is a touchstone? It’s a test for determining quality, authenticity, or genuineness. Why does this matter? It means this: the source of our greatest fear can become the touchstone for our greatest courage.

I have a touchstone. It is a heart-shaped stone, polished and etched with a single word: STRENGTH. I carried it with me a few years ago when I traveled to Tallahassee on weekends to spend time with my beloved cousin Cheryl when her breast cancer, five years in remission, spread to her bones. It was a journey she did not want to take, because in going toward her future, she had to step away from the people and the life she loved wholeheartedly. Choosing to do that, to accompany her in that intimate way, as her physical health failed and her faith shuddered and groaned, was at once the hardest and easiest choice ever. How do I do this? Better to ask, how do I not? She taught us so much in her suffering: how to be graceful, eloquent, and concerned with the well-being of others, always. How to let herself be loved and reassured and cherished. And how to love and reassure and cherish those of us who gathered around to accompany her on that private, noble journey. It was a time of continually giving and receiving permission to let go and accept the reality of what was happening not just in Cheryl, but through her in us. It was an exquisitely sweet time, one in which our world became very small as we sat with her, and held her, and cried with her, and reminisced and laughed and knitted our very souls together in one comforting blanket of love and memories. The stone still represents the strength she both gave and received.

“It takes a lot of courage to release the familiar and seemingly secure, to embrace the new. But there is no real security in what is no longer meaningful. There is more security in the adventurous and exciting, for in movement there is life, and in change there is power.” ~ Alan Cohen

What are we most afraid of? I believe it is precisely that place that will be the source of our courage. And encouragement? To me, it’s sharing our courage with others who need it. Stepping into their journey with them. Sitting with them in their storm. See, when we ENCOURAGE someone, we are actually infusing them with courage they can’t generate within themselves. They are on the inside of the storm looking out and feeling overwhelmed. We are on the outside of the storm looking in, and we see its limits. We are seeing beyond their storm. What a gift.

For more on the subject of courage, and encouragement, please visit: http://www.incourage.me/

Built in 1925, Pensacola’s Saenger Theater is often referred to as “the Grand Dame of Palafox Street.” Historically, Saenger theaters throughout the South as well as Cuba and Puerto Rico immersed patrons in the opulence of French Renaissance, Italian Baroque, Neoclassical Revival, Art Deco, and Spanish Baroque/Rococo styles. If the patrons couldn’t travel to Europe, the Saenger brought Europe to them.

Why so many Saengers? Brothers J.H. and A.D. Saenger of New Orleans saw a trend – palatial atmospheric theaters showing moving pictures – and jumped out in front of it in a big way. Built during the 1920s era of silent movies, pipe organs, and vaudeville shows, these “movie palaces” still add an atmosphere of European elegance to live performances and classic films.

 

A multi-million dollar renovation in 2009 restored the elegant but aging Pensacola landmark to its original luster. From symphony concerts to Stomp!, an evening at the Saenger is an occasion to savor. For a look at upcoming local shows and events:

http://www.pensacolasaenger.com/events.

Spotted recently in downtown Pensacola: four sleek silver Airstream trailers. They’re not just passing through, either; you can find them at the intersection of South Palafox and Main Streets. If you’re looking for a delicious outdoor dining option with out-of-the-box menus like fresh Gulf seafood, authentic Southern barbecue, a Tex-Mex taqueria, and Asian fusion, and you like the idea of people watching while perching at a pub table under a patio umbrella just a few steps from Pensacola Bay, this is probably a great fit for you. “Gouda Stuff” has a menu dedicated to grilled cheese lovers. Can you even imagine?

If you want your lunch to be a combination of great local food, a perfect heart-of-downtown setting, and breezes off the bay…call me and I’ll join you. It’s like taking an hour-long vacation without leaving the zip code. Most places are open for lunch and dinner, there’s a daily happy hour, and on Mondays, kids 12 and under eat free. Explore menus to your heart’s content here: www.eatalfresco.com.

Golden Rule #29: Be Thankful for the Opportunity.

This one is pretty easy, when things go well and you finish a project triumphantly and you get to hear praise for your creativity and hard work and the check arrives and you have the prospect of more wonderful things in the near future. Yep. It really is.

And then there are times when you take on more than you can possibly do, and you know that even your best effort might not be enough. You’re tired, dirty, hungry, and nobody is paying the least bit of attention to you or your work. Instead of feeling good, you’re feeling lousy, and the refrigerator stops working and the car is making a funny noise and that’s an unexpected bill in your mailbox.

How about the times when you have to change course so suddenly that you don’t get a chance to finish what you started? Those might be the hardest ones of all — there’s no closure, no sense of completion.

To all of those, can you say, gracefully, “thank you for the opportunity?” Even bad experiences teach us important lessons, and those lessons definitely stick!

I absolutely love Teddy Roosevelt’s speech entitled “Citizenship in a  Republic.” In part, he said,

It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who does actually strive to do the deeds; who knows great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat.

You can’t go wrong being thankful. You just can’t. It catches people off guard. Often they aren’t expecting it. They might think you’re going to ignore them, or chew them out, and instead, you thank them. Try it. See what happens.

Copper embodies gratitude. He thanks me for waking up in the morning, for taking him for his two daily walks, for his food, for his treats, for his school sessions, for making sure he has access to fresh flowing water in the bathtub, and for any number of other things. He sometimes shows it in crazy ways — just yesterday I had to bribe him to release a macaroni-and-cheese print sock of Marley’s, for instance. But there is no “cold and timid” with Copper. I know where I stand with him. His gratitude makes my days infinitely better.

Golden Rule #27: Embrace Unexpected Change. I Know. It’s Very Hard.

I have learned every single one of the Golden Rules posted during this 31-day challenge. Most of them, I’ve learned the hard way. You know, not by just hearing about someone else’s experience, but instead, by living them in excruciating detail. Some come harder than others. This one, for me, comes very, very hard.

From the time I was very small, I liked to know what was next. I have a well-earned reputation as a champion list maker. I make lists of lists. My parents despaired of me ever progressing beyond some of those lists, I’m sure, but hopefully as the years have gone by, I’ve made some progress.

It took me a long time to realize, the goal isn’t to fit your life to the plan, or the list. Rather, the goal is to master the art of improvising, adapting, persisting, and overcoming. Bonus points for doing that with a good attitude!

I like plans. I really, really like plans. They make me feel so much better. But sometimes we get so focused on our plans that we don’t open our minds and hearts to the unexpected. Like this week, when I got to spend time with these people:

These are some of my favorite people on the planet: Hillary, Tim, Jessica, Marley, and Ian, with the incomparable Silo in Marley’s arms. We had a spontaneous dinner party at Tim and Jessica’s when Ian and Hillary (literally) flew in for a fly-in. Did we have time for a plan? Nope. We just (don’t groan) winged it. And it was perfection, from start to finish.

So. Plans, even the best-laid plans, can, will, and do change, without any warning at all. Does that mean you shouldn’t have a plan? No, not at all. It means, be willing to wing it when plans change. The best things happen that way, and sometimes we end up realizing, like I have, we dreamed and planned too small!

Copper is marvelous when it comes to changing plans. He adapts on the fly, of course, and is willing to change course midstream. He doesn’t pout or hold a grudge. He puts himself wholeheartedly into the new plan, and frankly, he makes all my plans so much better.

This is what happens when I plan to change my sheets…

Golden Rule #26: Attitude Really is Everything. So is Timing.

You hear it all the time: “Attitude is everything.” Turns out it’s absolutely true. You can be less than an expert, or less than experienced, but a willingness to learn, coupled with an impeccable sense of timing, will carry you very far in life.

What is the right kind of attitude? We talk about a great attitude, and a positive attitude, and an attitude of gratitude…we hear about it when we have a bad attitude, too. “Don’t give me that attitude, now.” “Watch your attitude, son.” And somehow we’re expected to wade through the attitudinal minefield and figure out what’s good, and what’s bad.

Turns out our attitude is kind of like a barometer other people use to measure us. Sometimes we control our attitude, and sometimes our attitude controls us. We can blame other people, but in the end, our attitude is our responsibility. We can’t own anyone else’s attitude, but we can certainly own our own. And good news here — attitudes can change! We can actually drive the attitudinal bus! It’s hard. It’s really hard. It takes lots of practice and sometimes even saintly older people have been known to have a less-than-stellar attitude.

I was waiting in line at the eye doctor’s office yesterday, a long line of patient gray haired people stretching in both directions around me, and I heard the girl at the desk say, “This isn’t my job. I don’t usually work here. Everybody is in a meeting. I don’t know where anything is.”

All those things were true. I didn’t see stress levels going up too terribly high among the gray haired group. In particular, the couple in front of me was the essence of patience. Patient patients…sorry…it just tickled me. Anyway, the couple in front of me looked like maybe they were in their 80s. They were old. They were wrinkled. They were bent nearly double. She carried a cane. He carried, very precisely, a checkbook, an appointment card, and a pen. They wore sensible shoes with no laces. I thought, oh boy, this is not who I want to be in a few decades.

And then they reached the counter, and the girl gave her same matter-of-fact speech. And the man looked at her, through very thick glasses, and said, after a moment, “Well, you’re just doing the best you can, and that’s all anyone can ask.” And his wife nodded pleasantly beside him. I could see the absence of stress in them, and the calmness in them, and the way it just flowed around all of us like a smooth wash of velvet. The girl whose job it wasn’t checked them in, and sent them to sit near their doctor’s office door, and I found myself just wanting to be near their reassuring presence.

We could have stomped and blustered and it wouldn’t have made a bit of difference. The girl still didn’t have a clue, nor did she have a great attitude.  But I took my cues from the couple ahead of me, and I’m still thinking about them today. I’d rather echo their influence than, say, that of the person who tailgated me hardcore all the way home from the airport this morning. People. It was 5 a.m. I didn’t relish being rushed, so I turned down a side street to get out of your way.

Maybe attitude is nothing more than thinking about how you’re influencing the lives and thoughts of people around you. A good attitude will carry you further than a bad one, for sure.

What has Copper taught me about attitudes? It’s rare for me to catch him with a bad one, that’s for sure. Sometimes I know he’s upset, or confused, or disappointed about being left behind (the people in my house tend to come and go. A whole lot.) But he rights himself like a rubber duck in a tub full of water. And I know this for sure: stuff surely does travel up and down the leash. My attitude definitely affects his. All the more reason to have a good one.