Perhaps it’s all the decorative spider webs around or the fact that it is spider season and there are actual spider webs all over right now, but then again maybe it’s just that I ran through one today which has me thinking about them. My first thought was that there was a statistic that came out in the 90’s saying that the average person swallows 8 spiders a year in their sleep. It turned out to be an experiment to demonstrate how gullible people are, and it worked as the statistic spread and is still widely promulgated. The reality is that we don’t swallow in our sleep so it’s not very likely we would swallow anything much less a spider (to answer your question, “no I did not swallow a spider while running today.” Though that does not mean I haven’t before). My next thought however was about how the web is such a great metaphor for so many things. Nets and webs inspired things like the Native American dream catchers and they are a common image that we relate to situations we are stuck in, to the things that bind us together, to the hope that as we cast our net we might catch something, to “the tangled web we weave” which might come apart or get us stuck and any number of other things.

Rabbi and family therapist Edwin H. Friedman wrote extensively about family systems and even wrote a book called, “Generation to Generation: Family Process in Church and Synagogue.” One of the things he talked about was the idea of triangles. He said that two people have a very hard time maintaining a relationship for an extended period of time by themselves no matter how much they care for each other and often will find a third person to sort of moderate between them (this may actually be a third and forth person as each person in the original pair may seek someone else). As you extend the model further it relates to all kinds of relationships, including ones where you choose to go through someone else because you don’t want to talk to the person directly for any number of reasons. We involve people who are totally unrelated to the situation in things because that makes it easier for us, but we seldom think about what it does to them. Friedman actually says that this is one of the main causes of burnout for pastors and Rabbis. They become that third point in so many triangles it can be overwhelming. Some of it is the whole parking lot conversation thing of talking around people or behind their back that forces a triangle. These come about because people won’t just talk to the person they have a problem with or at least they won’t talk to them about the problem. They also happen for smaller stuff like one person doing a project needs someone else to do something but instead of just asking them to do it they have the pastor or someone else do the asking. For pastors and other leaders the goal is to push people into talking directly to each other even if you have to be there to help them do the talking. Triangles can be healthy, they aren’t a bad thing when you are struggling to work something out it can be very helpful, but they can also be part of an avoidance syndrome that allows you to never deal with whatever the real issue is. This morning I had to help someone not be a triangle for two others. They didn’t even know they were creating a triangle, which can happen really easily because we just don’t see it. It wasn’t their fault and both thought they were doing something good. We don’t think about the fact that someone else might be responsible for something and we think we are helping by doing that thing when we might be taking away something that is important for the person that normally does it. That sentence is a bit confusing perhaps, but the point is to think about who is effected by what we do. In the end it was a miscommunication, and the triangle was being formed that didn’t need to exist at all. We all should be aware of the triangles we create and pay attention to who they are effecting.

It is a gift that I have never needed much sleep. The thing of it lately and the last couple of nights in particular is that I really do appreciate those four to five hours and I haven’t even been getting those. I might have gotten an hour total last night and maybe two the night before so it’s been a challenge to get going. My mantra has always been that “there are twenty-four usable hours in every day.” My cure is the same as the one I use when I travel to avoid jet lag, which is to simply keep going. I go for a run often in the morning anyway, but when I have had no sleep I always run and most of the time it keeps me from crashing.

I played, “buttons” for nearly an hour today in an ever evolving game whose rules developed along the way. It all started with a cup filled with white buttons of all sizes and a little girl who thrives on competition (her dad might have something to do with that). We went from stacking them, to tossing them into the bowl, to something kind of like dominoes and even if I couldn’t totally keep up with the evolutions, her imagination was hard at work constantly creating and recreating a game that we could play together and which she could win (This last part was important because it was okay for me to win as long as she won too, but not okay if she didn’t also win. For another parent this might be an issue, but for me I like that she wants to win). Watching her create was a joy. It was as if you could see the creative fire of invention dancing in her eyes, the neuro-synapses igniting as a new thought occurred and a new rule was formed out of the way things were progressing or in response to one of my questions. We even had to start over several times because she saw that it could work better in a different way (or maybe because it seemed she wasn’t winning, we’ll never know).

I liked Gruen’s first book “Water for Elephants,” so when I saw that she had written a new book I would have gotten it anyway, but the fact that she was writing about apes gave it a special significance for me. Before I can talk about the book I have to give a background for why this book has a deeper connection for me. The first stuffed animal I can remember having was a bright orange spider monkey named Motor. As it turned out orange has always been my favorite color and monkeys and apes my favorite animals, so I guess Motor left an impression on me. Every year for as long as I can remember my parents gave me a stuffed monkey or gorilla for every birthday, every Christmas and even on other holidays like Valentines I got another one until my collection grew so much that I had to add a net near the ceiling in my room to hold them all. They were more than toys to me, they were a symbol of something deeper that was calling me off to jungles to learn more about the real animals. For a long time my hope was to be like Jane Goodall or Dian Fossey spending my time sitting on some far of mountain communing, studying, learning about the great apes. My senior year in high school I as fortunate to have a biology teacher who had done her doctoral work at the Woodland Park Zoo and who encouraged me to do an independent study there. I spent over 120 hours of observation plus research and writing time and all the hours driving back and forth to the zoo every other day for most of that year studying the zoos two Siamangs, Simon and Sia Buri. Sia Buri had just one arm, but she was amazing the way she could still fly from limb to limb. Simon was and is still the curious one and used to come up the the glass and sit opposite me, sometimes moving around so he could look in my bag and other times just sitting there. Sometimes, now years later, when I take my daughter to the zoo I could swear that Simon recognizes me and just once I sat in my old spot and he came right up and sat opposite me again. It was a behavior that I never saw him do on the days that I would watch from other spots where he couldn’t see me. You could see the intelligence in that interaction and his curiosity and it only strengthened my love for apes. I chose my first college because it was one of only four in the country that advertised specific degrees in both zoology and theater; my two great passions at the time. Though I didn’t end up pursuing zoology the affinity still remains and always visit zoos when I travel seeking out the apes. I have to admit that it was quite a thrill to see the wild monkeys wandering around the temples in Nepal. This is a really long explanation for why the book was meaningful to me, but I think the background is important.

For some reason today I found the songs from the “Sound of Music” playing in my head and I have a habit of singing aloud the songs in my head so I suppose they were playing in my house too. I have been told that when my daughter begins to fuss I instantly start to hum without even thinking about it or knowing that I am doing it. I have been singing to both daughters since before they were even born and most of the time a song from me has magical powers over them and they calm down almost instantly and eventually fall asleep. As I walked in loops outside in the cool air singing “My Favorite Things,” “Edelweiss,” “Do Re Mi,” and a litany of other songs trying to coax my teething one year old into a deep slumber I couldn’t help but think of the power of music to move us. The sound of music can lure us towards it, it can captivate us, motivate us, cause us to swoon, be an act of prayer, express emotions deeper than any words, and yes…put us to sleep. I remember humming to my first daughter one time and a friend was in the room trying to do homework and he fell asleep before she did. Maybe some of that is my voice, but I think most of it is the music itself and the magic of the melody which transfixes us. When I was playing sports we would listen to things like “Eye of the Tiger,” and the bagpipes from the movie “Braveheart” as they went into battle to pump us up before games and meets. In worship the repetitive resonance of chant is used in a number of religions to help us enter into a meditative state of contemplation and focus. I could write a whole other blog on the words (and I probably will), but even without them there really is something about “The Sound of Music.” Hmm hmm hmhmhm hmhm hmm hmm hmm hmm

There is something about having or even just being around kids that rejuvenates us and gets us back in touch with the confidence that we once had and the fearlessness to overcome what we know and jump anyway. The belief that my three year old has that I can do anything is part of it, but it’s also watching her and other kids and thinking, “I used to be able to do that.” We all have our lists of “used to’s” and some are legitimate in that we shouldn’t do them again (you are free to fill in your own list here), but some are just because we have become overly rational, developing a fear even of things that we can and have done before. I watched a kid at the park do a flip off the swings some time ago and my response was, “I used to be able to do that.” That was probably well over a year ago and I had kind of forgotten about it until I watched my daughter flip over the swings at the church and instantly my response was changed from, “I used to be able to do that,” to “that looks fun lets do it together.” Sure there is something to letting her learn for herself, but it felt pretty good to release whatever inhibitions had made me say “used to” and simply say, “I can do that.” The moment I hit the apex of the swing, let go of my hesitation and committed to the flip I just knew there were other “used to’s” that I needed to turn into “still do.” I must have done it ten times just to remind myself I really could and each time my confidence built that there were other things I could still do.

People often remind me that I never do things the way I am “supposed to.” I don’t tend to follow the prescribed course and even when it’s one that has requirements along the way I tend to find alternative ways to satisfy them. I don’t believe there is such a thing as a normal way of doing things because every person’s experience even of the same thing is unique, but I was reflecting last night on the fact that I can’t even follow a simple recipe exactly. Never mind things like testing out of requirements or making my own path to a mountain summit. Following a recipe should be simple, but instead I have to add things, use less or more of things and make it my own. Last night it was gorgonzola cream sauce, my version of which turned out great and last week it was snickerdoodles, which I thought were pretty good too. I was thinking about it in terms of architecture vs building. A builder takes a plan and builds it as exactly as they can and it’s good, it’s consistent, they know that it works and we need builders. An architect looks at plans, understands the foundational elements and then creates something new. Sometimes it works and sometimes it doesn’t, but I think for some we just can’t help trying. We need both builders and architects, cooks and chefs, it’s not about one being better than the other it’s about acknowledging that we don’t all fit in the lines and for some there is a creative fire and a refusal to conform even if we wanted to. There is nothing wrong with the lines and beautiful things come within them, but for me I am thankful for the confidence to color outside them even when I fail.

There are plenty of times in our lives when we know what we need and we know what we really want, but we are unwilling, unable, unmotivated, afraid to go out and do it, get it, be it. What we need is a push. We need that something to happen, that someone, that opportunity to knock that pushes past knowing into doing and being. There are special people or in some cases things that happen to special people in our lives which help us to realize that we can’t just wait . Their are those people who give us the strength to act and there are the circumstances that reminds us of life’s fragile nature, and what ever it is we need it sometimes even if it’s hard, perhaps especially when it’s hard. We need a push. We need that thing to get us over whatever fear we have, whatever inadequacy we feel, so that we will take the plunge and dive deeper into life. These pushes often come when we don’t expect them and from places we didn’t even know existed, but they can’t be ignored. Even when the push comes from tragedy we have to see it as a gift because otherwise it can overwhelm us. I guess that’s part of the deal in that if we can find the gift in even a tragedy then nothing can truly overwhelm us and the gift is often the motivation to do something positive. It may not always feel like it’s so positive at first and it’s way easier to intellectualize it than to do it, but the good is out there and so are the things to push us even if it feels like they are a long time in coming.