President Obama

We have actually elected a human being who is cool, calculating, brilliant and able to speak passionately from his heart.

What were we thinking?
He might actually ask us to think differently, act differently - even change.

Maybe we are America the Brave after all.

My prayers will be with him every night.

It’s about time.

Everywhere I look the world conspires to remind me that time is short. Obituaries of people my age or younger jump off the page.  Photographs of school friends, who look like their parents, cause me to stop and check the mirror in a panic: “Dear God! Do I look that old”?  Watching a younger sibling build a retirement home and then freaking retiring!  Seeing Minnesota friends and contemporaries, begin to winter in Phoenix.  Although, this may just be proof that old dogs can finally learn new tricks… it’s flipping cold during the winter in Minnesota people, and it happens every year. Really.  Realizing that when my mother chooses to go home (a euphemism for dying, yes), I will be the oldest in my tribe.

Age has always befuddled me.  Society has rules that are adjudged severely.  I was forever too young to be old enough, to do everything!  Then I was too old to be cool, and now I’m too old to ever be young again!  And yet, other than the occasional… OK, regular, and often annoying reminder from my body, I don’t feel old.  

Am I going to die?  Yep, I believe the evidence is irrefutable, this body will at some point leave this mortal coil.  As I write this I’m sitting in the lobby of a medical mall in Beverly Hills, watching people escort their hobbling relations to and from the myriad body shops.  Why did “planned obsolescence” ever surprise anyone?  It’s the way we are built!  Nature.  Has anyone ever considered filing a grievance about the poor design of this body?  Hell, even Toyota had to recall vehicles recently!  And don’t start telling me that if I’d take proper care of it, yada, yada… even Jack LaLanne’s body gave up, and that sucker could pull a boat with his teeth while swimming! 

Where was I? Oh yeah. I don’t feel old.

The only thing that has changed perceptibly for me is time.  While I believe time is infinite, I’ve become acutely aware that on this plane of existence, it is a limited commodity.  I realize there are many of you who figured this out at a much younger age, bear with me, I’m an Aries, and a man.  How I use time, has become a priority.  Who, Where, What or Why I use or spend it: is now a conscious part of my life.  I’ve become selfish with my time.  It really pisses me off that now that I’ve finally figured out this little secret of life – time has chosen to move faster.  No really.  Just trust me.  It has.

The good news is that I’ve started, well restarted a career as an actor.  And surprise, surprise, they say it takes time!  Time to hone your skills.  It takes time to build relationships with people, Casting Directors, Agents and Producers.  Time to shoot and market a film.  It takes time for your audience, to find your films.  It takes time.

I saw a quote attributed to Adrien Brody recently, “My dad told me, “It takes fifteen years to be an overnight success”, and it took me seventeen and a half years.”  This made me want to start desperately negotiating with the Time Police.  Listen, I was here for 11 years kicking it, 25 years ago.  Do they count?   Or, does it have to be continuous time served?  If you count those 11 years and then add the 3 I’ve been back this time, that’s 14 – so I’ve only got another year to go before I hit, before I’m an overnight success.  Right?  Please!  Right?  Wait!  Whoa Nelly!  Screw Adrien Brody’s father!  What does he know?

Excuse me if I sometimes sound impatient, self-centered or rude.  Excuse me for laughing when I hear people complain that it’s taking to long.  Excuse me when I choose to spend my time with people who are in the full bloom of creation and possibility; who choose to live with energy, action and hope.  I forgive you your age. Please forgive me mine.

I’m new at this and all I’ve got is time, and I’m spending it fast.

I’m ready. I’m prepared. It’s time.

Namaste,

Lon

Signpost

I never thought that divorce would feel like a destination, something to be achieved. After eight or nine long years its finally done. The judge signed the papers.

I wish my former spouse a happy life. Her adventures are well begun as she follows her heart working in Europe. We raised a beautiful daughter who is off on her own married and thriving. We had beautiful homes. We had many good times. We grew and learned to honor our own truths. We struggled to reconcile our lives with who we were as individuals. We weren't right together.
Bon Voyage.

How do I feel reaching this point, this destination? Empty, the crying is done. Moving on has long since started. Kind of like getting older. It's just a date, a marker, a point in time that while legally meaningful is personally meaningless. Life goes on. Possibilities infinite.

Namaste.

One step at a time.

A Tribute to my Father

Posted at Gratefully Yours, Lon.

It Isn't All About Me?

In conversation today with a lovely new old friend, I learned the impact that my father's death had on a mutual friend, who lived up the street from me.  In my own myopic view of the world I've never considered how other people were effected.  It is after all, all about me.

If you asked me the date that my father died I would hesitate, struggling to do the math in my head before I came up with the right year and maybe month.  The day... I could guess. 

My friend up the street has the date down cold, it was his father's birthday, and in the storm that injured my parents, he watched giant trees topple like twigs as the roof was blown off of his home.  Quite a memorable evening I imagine.  The next morning he heard that my father had been killed.

He remembers my father taking him and me to a Fathers and Sons function at school the year before; when his father couldn't get off work.  I don't remember this at all.  He does.  I envy him that memory, even if it isn't necessarily a happy one for him.

On the other hand, I now know I was with my dad and my friend when I learned about the birds and the bees.  That makes me smile.  Thank you for sharing your memory with me.

I wonder who else in my life has been profoundly impacted by a shared experience, that I've only considered from my point of view?

Light more light.

Namaste.

I Am Your Brother

Currently I have no job, no income, no home – (housed temporarily with angels) no credit and growing debt. Health insurance lapsed three years ago. I eat courtesy of the Food Stamp Program. Family has sent me a small check for to many months now, to cover car and phone expenses.

I am 54 years old, a college graduate with extensive work experience at an executive level.

I am your brother.

My situation has gotten progressively worse since I started looking for a new gig in early 2008. Resumes are submitted with no response, save an automated email acknowledgment. Applications for hourly jobs, mysteriously go unanswered and unacknowledged. Phone calls to my network reveal others sharing similar experiences.

Viktor Frankl wrote in Man's Search For Meaning¹ that, "everything can be taken from a man but one thing: the last of human freedoms -- to choose one's attitude in any given set of circumstances, to choose one's own way."

In my recent experience this passage rings deeply true. While my circumstances are in no way as dire or profoundly evil as those that Mr. Frankl endured, they are as challenging as I've ever faced.

And.... I am happy, healthy and hopeful.

Welcome 2011

It seems that I get to learn some lessons over and over. "Happy New Year!, now go away." So the car was packed and new shelter miraculously appeared.

The circumstances are what they are. They - will think what they think.

What I've rediscovered, relearned, is just how powerful I am when my head finally gets out of my hearts way. When I choose to hear, to listen, to acknowledge what my heart expresses as true: the world around me changes. Sometimes dramatically.

Fear is the only damper on a singing heart. I just have to remember to keep breathing, love and be grateful for where/who I am, and know that my heart is leading the way.

Easier said than done? Some times...but in the next breath, the world will change.

Wishing you all peace, love and joy in this New Year.

Emanuel Gustave Holstein

Grandpa Holstein is still with me every day. I talk to him regularly. I have many fathers in heaven that watch over me.

The more people I meet in my life, the more I am reminded how lucky I was to have my grandfather as a role model. He lived a life of service to his family and his community. He met and accepted you, where you were at, without judgment. His advice to me never sounded like preaching. There are many questions that I would love to ask him today, now that I am wiser and more aware of what questions I could be asking.

Tribute to my Mother

I don’t remember being born – but it seems like mom has been there for me, all my life. There is a lot of evidence that we are related – the least important of which are the comments from people who ask my mother if I am her brother when we go out together.

I am blessed to have a mother who has unwaveringly loved me. I remember asking her why she would always buy tickets for two nights to see one of my performances in high school. She explained that on the first night she could only see me, and on the second night she could actually see the show. I have since experienced this phenomenon when watching my daughter Sarah.

So how do you pay tribute to someone who has raised, loved and supported you your entire life? I’ve experienced her love, her tears, her rage and her fears. I’ve seen her in pain as well as in joy. I’ve watched her grow up and shared her love of dance, music, theatre and film. I’ve hurt her, surprised her, scared her, nursed her and loved her. So I guess; a thank you and an apology for all of the challenges I’ve thrown her way, would be a good start.

My memories are fuzzy prior to my parent’s accident, and my father’s death. My first conscious memories of my mother are seeing her and my father lying bloody and broken on the cold cement floor of the public beach house at Lake Calhoun. Both had received serious head injuries, my father taking the brunt of the blow that had left my mother’s face and jaw broken, not to mention various other wounds.

In the fog of my shock I remember repeatedly asking my mother for my grandparent’s phone number; which, miraculously she was able to give me though she was barely conscious.

When I say I watched my mother grow up, this may indeed have been her re-birth. This was the day and the moment in time that the responsibility to raise five children, which she had shared with my father, became hers alone.

I can speak with authority on the how drastically my reality changed in that moment. I can only imagine the weight of the change in her reality. She moved from loving wife and mother, to sole bread-winner, grieving wife and still mother of five in a nanosecond.

When she came home from the hospital she appeared so fragile. As the glassiness in her eyes slowly waned, her jaw unwired, and her wounds healed; my mother reappeared and moved forward. We needed her to.

Time has changed my perspective on many things; but not – my mother. I love her.

Learning other people’s stories about their parents has made me appreciate even more, how blessed I am to have an Angela, for a mother.

Always

You are always on my mind and in my heart.
I feel like I am betraying myself letting go of you.
Yet I know you are already gone.

Memories deep and precious.
Warm and peaceful in your arms.
Now open for another.

When the honesty ended.
I saw the word stop.
And knew the truth.

My love flows deeper than my tears.
You will always be in that river.
Peace and Love and Joy.