emotional misgivings...

   
    I've been reading "The Sacredness of Questioning Everything", by David Dark...and to say that I have resounded with his words would be an understatement.  (Do you ever have a book that you start reading and catch yourself nodding in agreement with?)  Anyway, it's been so challenging and encouraging to me that I can only read a few paragraphs a day.  I walk away and know I need to be...I dunno..."different" as a result.

    Last night, I only got one page in and had to stop.  Dark tells a story about walking home with an older friend of his after they had watched the movie Big (where Tom Hanks plays a child who gets his wish to become "big").  They both said they liked it, but his friend began to share that he couldn't help but feel like it was all a bit contrived...which left him feeling a little depressed.  When Dark asked him what he meant, this is what he said.

The film struck him, he explained with a bit of reluctance, as "a waste of perfectly good emotion." 
  
    Dark goes on to basically say that emotions are wonderful, but they can be played with, pandered to, and drawn out of us even if the circumstances that created them were false/fiction.  He continues...

It's an undermining, by way of unreal endearment, of our ability to hold one another dear, a way of drawing us away from a sense of what's real...but if such sentimental fare is what mostly constitutes our media diet, our affections might slowly become-hear this!-merely theoretical, sentimentality...We get to the point that we save our strongest emotions for people who don't exist. Or in the case of sports figures, celebrity politicians, and talk show hosts, we get most worked up and alive...by way of people we don't know and who in all likelihood don't want to know us.  The living, breathing people next door or in the next cubicle or in the same house who might benefit from our showing up to them emotionally get left behind.

    Wow!  This got me thinking about so many things...like...Why do so many guys use video games to escape and achieve a sense of accomplishment and adventure?  Why not a real adventure away from their couch?  Why do some women get caught up in romance novels (literary porn) or ridiculously sappy movies?  Couldn't they reinvest that very emotion into their significant other or maybe finding one?  Why do so many of us invest the emotional (and weekly time) into "reality" television or our guilty pleasure tv shows?   Do we truly believe in the underdog story, the conflict, or love connection?  Does it have any relevance in our daily life whatsoever? Or is that the point entirely.  Don't kid yourselves...it's not just because of how well it was written, incredibly acted, or even how titillating it was.  You were roped in emotionally...completely duped...hook, line and sinker...and you loved every minute of it. 

    I am equally guilty in all of this for sure.  Even though I do not have television at my house, I watch some of my favorite shows (i.e. The Office) and enjoy the entertainment value (see:escape) of movies a lot.  More than I should if, I am honest with myself...and now all of you.  It's something I want/need to change.

    So, what then?  How do I tap into my inner Steinbeck?  Go on my Walden-esque adventures?  I can't drop everything just to spite how deeply hooked I have become entrenched in entertainment, can I?  Billions of dollars are betting against us at every turn...luring us into emotional turmoil - quickly followed by a cure for the very disease we just found ourselves ailing.  Coincidence?  I guess the beginning is realizing that my emotions are what they are and that if my best emotions are being spent away from reality, I should check myself...again...and again...until I look to those around me.

    That's a snapshot of the journey from where I'm walking today.  Thanks for all of the feedback on the last couple of posts!  I was humbled to be quoted on a beloved reader's Facebook status last week...the ultimate compliment in 2011, right?  Peace and love...  

right back at it

    So, I have had two of the craziest, most encouraging/challenging, and overall "full" weeks in recent memory...any chance that's because I have made the conscious effort to let go of a lot of old garbage that was holding me back? 

    Laird Hamilton might not be a household name to you.  He was the first surfer to use a jetski so he could be towed into waves bigger than a parking garage.  This not only saved him from trying to catch the behemoths the standard way, but meant he could ride waves approaching 100' tall!  All that to say, Laird does stuff I could (and would) never do, but I read a quote from him one day that has stuck with me forever.  He once told a reporter (and I am paraphrasing, sorry Laird) that we live in such a fortunate and comfortable place, that it is essential that we challenge or scare ourselves DAILY to remind ourselves how fragile life is. 

    Although I don't get to surf waves daily anymore, I really agree with what Laird Hamilton said.  I have missed being challenged (and even scared, honestly).  I woke up a couple weeks ago and realized that at some point unbeknown to me, I had pushed the cruise control button on life and had become ambivalent, cautious, and had resigned to be a casual observer within my own skin. 

    When it came right down to it, my reasons for playing it safe were all good ones (aren't they always?).  We just recently bought a house.  I have three young children and a wife who is deserving of all my love and attention.  I work long hours as a street outreach worker at a local non-profit.  I have physical limitations and daily pains as a result of a surgery that messed me up almost a decade ago.  I even beat myself up every week on the basketball court at a ministry outreach I run. 

    I say those things to show you that the best lies are the ones that are 1/100th lies and 99/100ths truth.  It wasn't wrong to provide for my family or want to do well in my job, but I was playing it safe and comfortable because it was easier.  I grew complacent, because I no longer took the tasks at hand as challenges and blessings, but instead saw them as my lot in life...the daily grind.  I let it all wear on me, instead of seeing them for what they were.

    Now that I have begun to force myself to be as straight forward and honest as I can be (beginning with myself), I have shook off a lot of the old dust and crap that was keeping me where I was.  I see now that there are new possibilities and challenges in my day to day that MUST be embraced. 

    The best gift in this lately, is that my world has opened and I have started to dream again.  I now try to listen to the words that echo in my mind telling me to act, to do, to think outside the box this instant.  Old friends have come out of the woodwork.  New ones have appeared out of thin air.  Conversations, opportunities, and new challenges have begun to sprout and I feel so blessed.

   My challenge for you is the same as the one I have for myself each day now.  Are you being honest?  If not, is what's holding you back worth it?  Just some thoughts... 
      

comfortability and change

   

    The difference between a rut and a grave is their dimensions.  - Ellen Glasgow -

    Over the past months, I have really begun to feel fenced in...bound to my circumstances and life in a way that has left me feeling listless and frustrated.  Sure, cabin fever and a long Minnesota winter can batter the will of the hardiest of soul, but this felt different.  As easy as it would be to blame the sub-zero temperatures, frozen vehicles, or even the Groundhog day-like routine of shoveling snow from my driveway each morning, I knew none was the root cause.  Although it's much harder to have a positive outlook on your world when your back and shoulders go through a perpetual state of soreness, it wasn't until the wheels fell of that I truly got a glimpse of what needed to change.      

    In college, I spent a restless night trying to figure out why I felt such an inner battle over my future.  That night, I found myself writing my thoughts in a paper entitled "Comfortability = death".  The basic idea of my conclusion was that the allure of a nice house, steady job, 2.5 kids were all good things, but that we were continually being sold into believing that we deserved much more and couldn't be happy until we were COMFORTABLE.

    Awww...comfortable, the illusive ever-changing feeling that if we could just have x, y, and z or be in this economic bracket, that we would be healthy, wealthy, wise...and happy.  Such a scary and sad way to look at life if you ask me. 

    A body in motion stays in motion and a body at rest stays at rest, unless acted on by an unbalanced force.  - Sir Issac Newton's first law of motion -

     Where I had grown comfortable, was that I had quit listening to the still, small voice inside of me that told me to be more bold, more honest...with myself, my friends, coworkers, and the world around me.  Over time, I had sugar coated or eliminated things all together, because it was uncomfortable and I truly believed that I was more mature now that I had learned to sit back and "let people be people".

    Don't get me wrong, I still love everyone and will not be throwing stones of judgment...I just needed a kick in the pants to be who I am...and now I have it in full force. 

    I wish I could've posted this when I first started on it.  Now I have a few weeks under my belt and have new things I want to say!  See you all again real soon.

this winter of my (dis)content

    Wow...this blog is more like MONTH'S blank page.  Pretty disappointing, honestly, but I'm doubling my efforts, which should at least ensure a post every two weeks from now on, right?

    What a crazy, cold, busy, and immunity-wearing winter it has been so far!  I can't remember a winter that has gone on forever like this one has...but before you know it, spring will be here...say it with me now...SPRING WILL BE HERE.

    I apologize to those who have diligently checked the page to see if new posts have been added.  I have had a lot of ideas lately about what areas I'd like to go into greater detail about, but unfortunately they have all been in different directions...sigh...So, for now, I'm keeping it Minnesota and shooting from the hip - potluck style.  As always, I am wide open to your thoughts as well...

    So, here we are...I'm actually taking a sick day today to let my body rest and finally beat this cold that has been lingering and disrupting too much of my day to day.  The kids are busy "inventing" structures out of old school lincoln logs.  Jill's run to town for an oil change and tire balance  turned into  - $200, but + two new tires...here's to safe winter travels.  I was looking to use my fantasy football winnings on something that more closely resembled something from Gander Mtn, but...I am thankful that the money was available just the same.

    The Hanson Clan has added a few new members since the chicken post.  We are happy to welcome three nigerian dwarf goats to the family!  So far, their transition has been pretty seamless and the kids LOVE spending time with them!  *Pictures, names and stories forthcoming*

     The "Christmas Road Warriors" once again put many miles on the van, but not nearly as many as we had initially planned - with a snowstorm taking out two stops.  We had some amazing family moments and I was able to get some of the best quality time (with my three remaining grandparents) that I can remember.  I was humbled by all of it and reminded that every moment with them is a gift.  *Stories forthcoming there as well*

    I'm working through a lot of thoughts and ideas on most every aspect of my life lately...nothing weird or frightening, as much as just...well...unsettling, refining, and...RIGHT.  I think that it will do me a lot of good to share a lot of that process with you all as I continue to sift the gold from the silt.  I'll do my best to not soapbox rant or get on a tangent that is undeserving of your time...hopefully some of the things I am seeing, thinking, and feeling, you are too...thanks for being patient with me.

 
    

lessons from the coop vol. 1

    One of the great joys of home ownership is that we have the privilege to raise animals on our property.  This Fall, we were fortunate enough to be given five young chickens by a friend and they have quickly become a part of the Hanson Family.  In addition to all the reading I have done on raising chickens and building a chicken coop from materials that I had salvaged, my favorite aspect has been the things I have learned about me from my time with them.  Similar to my experiences with my children, it's amazing how I can get so much insight by observing farm animals!

    The coop I made is from a portable fish house frame that I constructed permanent sidewalls, a roof, and an attached fenced in run for the chickens.  One of the necessities (as witnessed by today's -28 degree morning) was insulating, because there was no way I was going to run a lightbulb all the way out there for them and the last thing I wanted to find was 5 frozen chickensicles some randomly cold morning.  One thing about chickens, is that they peck everything that looks a little different from the norm.  This is an excellent strategy for when they come across a bug, a piece of food, or some scratch, but a shiny candy wrapper or piece of yellow insulation will help them in no way - and might even be fatal to them.  Knowing this, I totally "peck-proofed" my coop by covering all of the insulation within reach...or so I thought I did anyway.

    One day, I came out to see that they had found a way to stand on top of their sloped-roof on their nesting box and had begun to peck all of the exposed insulation within reach!  The next day, the piece was destroyed and I was ticked!  Here I had built them an awesome house, had insulated it so they wouldn't be cold, fed them good food and clean water every day, and THIS is how they repaid me?!!?  But how could I blame them, my simple-minded, barnyard friends could not help themselves if they tried.  Even though they knew after the first peck that the insulation brought them no benefit, they were wired to be this way. 
See. Peck. Repeat.

    While I was thinking about my pea-brained demolition crew, I had a sense of how much like them we are...as a society, as people, and even as spiritual beings.  In American culture, we chase the "shiny", publicized things...a new politician, health plan, or maybe even war...these are all mindsets that we are led to believe will surpass and are better than the rest.  As individuals, we chase Black Friday sales and let TV tell us what new and different objects of affection we must have...we are willing to bypass food, shelter, and our fellow chicken...err...man to get them if need be.  Whether it's a new cell phone or Lady Gaga, we believe that the flashy, different "thing" is somehow a need and a birthright meant for our happiness, and we are no longer satisfied or intrigued by the norm.  Just because it has a responsive touchscreen or wears a dress made out of meat, doesn't mean that the content or quality is any better.  :)  Spiritually, I believe that my Creator has spelled out for me what a good life is all about.  He has given me direction through word and deed and has provided for me in every avenue, yet I chase meaningless things and get caught up and distracted by everything imaginable.  I am not a chicken.  I have an (over)imaginative brain, a heart, and a soul.  I need to live that way.  

    There's no tidy wrap up to my thought process today...just a few thoughts...I'm definitely still working this one through...thanks for reading...peace and love brothers and sisters.










   



 

perspective...

    Welcome to the second installment of today's blank page!  I thought I'd share something I'm pretty passionate about...my daily life at work as a street outreach worker for Evergreen House in Bemidji.  For four and a half years, I have served homeless, couch hopping, or any other youth (21 and under) who has come through my doors looking for help.  No two circumstances are the same that brought them in, but an unexpected pregnancy, out of control addictions (theirs or their parents'), undiagnosed mental illness, or abuse are all common pieces to the story.  As an outreach worker, I listen to them, build a trusting relationship, provide what tangible solutions I can to their issues at hand (ie. food, diapers, hygiene stuff, etc.), and advocate for them as best I can.  My work is totally free, completely confidential, and allows youth to come and go as they want...making it a relationship on their terms.
 
    For over a year, I have run a Drop In Center, so youth could have a place to hang out during the day.  Many homeless young people can't be at the houses where they slept the night before, so they are left to wander (out of the public eye) or hang out at places where drugs, alcohol, and sex pay for their time there.  In the past year, we have served almost 500 youth through Street Outreach alone!  Some come in for diapers or food and quickly leave.  Others stay, having no place to go, and play ping pong or Xbox with me and eventually share a small part of their world with me.

    I am forever honored and humbled by their stories...by the smelly hugs that I have been given...the many smiles that I have seen when I told them I was proud of them...by the hundreds of newborn babies I have held...through the heartache and loss (I replay the last time I saw each and every one of those who have passed)... and the countless tear-inducing, belly laugh moments I have shared...  These are not clients of mine, just as they aren't projects to be fixed, "those people" who only need to pull themselves up by their bootstraps to succeed, or lost causes who must crawl on hands and knees to receive a little support.  I see everyone who comes to me as extended family and friends...worthy of  my time, love, and respect...

    Often, I walk away from "helping" someone, only to realize that I am the one who was helped.  I have also seen (and been shown) love in the simplest and most moving of ways...it is in these moments and through these life lessons that I am able to find the will to fight through the tough times.

    One thing that will never cease to amaze (frustrate) me, is what well-meaning people donate to those in need.  I have to believe that their mantra while boxing up half-used deodorant, toothpaste, and chapstick is, "If you are homeless, ANYTHING is better than nothing," which couldn't be further from the truth.  Just the other day, I went through an entire box of old cosmetics (the homeless need hair curlers, used pedicure sets, and half a bottle of tanning lotion, right?), threw away a garbage bag of old winter hats that had to have been used to insulate a dog house, and happily hung up the nice winter jacket that had been given...only to find that the zipper was busted on it.  I truly believe that some people are so disillusioned, that they feel good about giving away their crap to the "less fortunate" (there is a special place in my heart for those that do this and then expect a tax right off as a result of their good deed). 

    That said, for each one of these do-gooders who share their "under the sink collection - 1995", there are true gems that more than make up for them.  I am blessed to know the ladies quilting group from a rural church who make blankets and donate them every year, the local store owner who dropped off a brand new chest freezer one day, and the dear friend who makes sure that I am always supplied with enough condoms for those who ask for them.  I love each and every person (misguided as some are), who take a moment to think outside of their little world and consider others.  I challenge each of you to consider it, even if for just a minute or two each day.  The perspective is priceless.

    My wife is braving the cold in town, while I attempt to herd cats...err...children AND write.  As always, thanks for your time and the kind words...Peace and love.





   
   

no good story ever starts in the middle...

    So...I fully realize that I'm a late-comer to the whole blog scene (I'd like to think of myself as fashionably late), but I've had a desire to put my words down and get them out for a very long time.  Dozens of notepads and half-full journals later, I now realize that I get in tune with myself and get much more out of my daily thoughts when I take the time to gather them - even just a few words on paper.   So here I am.

    Upon the insistence (see: prodding, pleading, and threatening) of some dear friends, I have decided to share my meandering thoughts and ideas with you in this format.  I'm a passionate person, a natural storyteller, and I tend to say exactly what I think I'm supposed to.  If anything I say encourages, challenges, or ticks you off I have left my email address out in the open (Nigerian prince's looking for an American investor need not apply) so we can talk that way if you'd rather.  I would love to hear where you're at on anything. 

    Because some of you know a little about me, others nothing, and none of you know everything that has led me to where I am today, I have decided to give you a little background on me first.  Don't worry. This won't be an exhaustive look, nor will it be too terribly psychoanalytical...I know I'm not that interesting and I don't consider myself to be that good of a pop-psych guy (or a narcissist for that matter).

  

    I am the oldest of three children.  My parents said that they believed in disciplining and had every intent of doing so accordingly with all of their kids - I just wore them out too much.  I was born in a tiny town in northern Minnesota and spent my first months in a little trailer park.  Throughout my formative years, my dad was employed in "ministry work" of some sort (a church youth pastor, Youth for Christ and eventually found his calling with an at-risk youth ministry).  This also meant that he worked a lot of weird, long hours, spending a ton of time with other people's kids.  In addition to not having a regular 9-5 father, it also meant that there was no such thing as a regular paycheck that we could count on.  "Living by faith" came in all forms...thousands of miles driving to various churches to speak, millions of support letters piled on the living room floor, etc.  Although I never thought of us as "poor" per se, I can very distinctly remember the Christmas-like excitement that came with getting a random bag of groceries from a church or government commodity cheese.

    I always knew that I was loved.  Not just by my parents, but by my extended family as well.  I didn't realize how special that was until I was much older, of course.  My parents also did their best to show us God's love through word and action.  Growing up, that meant going to church every Sunday and even if we didn't feel like it, to put on our best "Christian" appearance in public.  I'm not saying that my faith (and especially not that of my parents') was a sham, but it wasn't long before I got really sick of trying to talk, walk, look, and act like the upstanding Christian son that my parents wanted me to be.  I wasn't a rebel by nature and I didn't have a problem with the Bible or the man upstairs, I just saw no reason to pretend to be anything that I wasn't.  What made a Christian stand out from the others anyway?  It seemed a lot more like looking like everybody else instead of being different.

    I fought my parents a lot on this.  I lost. A lot. Probably every time, actually.  For those of you who don't know my dad, he can be a very...umm..."persuasive" and influential individual (and I mean that in the most loving way possible).  He guided me through junior high and high school by literally putting the fear of God in me.  I'm not saying I was "afraid" of my Dad, but the line between respect/love and pure intimidation were blurry on more than one occasion.  It was what he knew from his father before him and it was effective.  I rarely stepped out of line under his watch.  Where my father was the authoritarian that instilled directives, my beloved mother guided us by a mixture of persuasion and guilt.  If Dad's directives failed, hurting Mom's, Grandma's, or any other various person's feelings worked.  Don't get me wrong, all of this was done in love...and the relationship I now have with them as their adult son is invaluable.  

    By the time I began to start thinking for myself, I really didn't know how much of who I was was because I had been a good follower of my parents or if I actually believed any of it.  It was a process that I worked through for years...still am, actually.  I made it through high school and college not really knowing who or what I was.  I knew what a loving upbringing with a mom and dad was like.  I had a lot of friends, fun, and good experiences.  I had some semblance of an idea about what God, Christianity, and faith was about...but ultimately I was pretty directionless.

    After a year working for my alma mater, I took off for Southern California.  After a few months of surfing, basketball, randomly attending the first church that really moved me, and occasionally partying with my roommates (yes, I know what the inside of Dennis Rodman's house looks like), I knew I had to choose.  Either come back to Minnesota now (my brother was about to get married) or stay in SoCal forever.  Once I flew into Minneapolis, I moved in with a few friends of mine and quickly moved up the management ladder at a bright orange, big box home improvement retailer that will remain unnamed.  I didn't feel like this is what life was all about, but I liked the fast-paced atmosphere, decent money, and the culture of the Twin Cities.  It grew on me. 

    I wasn't back long before I was introduced to a friend of my buddy's girlfriend.  I was intrigued by her immediately and soon I fell for her in a way that I had for no other girl before her.  I don't know how it all tumbled out of control, but in short order I neglected my core beliefs and fell into the trappings of a physical relationship with her.  I talked it all away, believing that it would be righted once we were married...but those plans crumbled when we broke up (on Valentine's Day, of course).  I was left feeling hollow, alone, and had a gaping black hole inside of me.

    Work provided an environment that allowed me to stay busier than I knew what to do with myself.  Inside, I grieved my broken relationship, but I didn't have much time to think about it with swing shifts, a promotion, and random 16 hour days.  It left me with just enough time to hang out with work friends, drink, but not spend any kind of quality time with my family or old friends.  I was disconnected and aimless and I knew it.  The worst part was that I felt like there was nothing I could do about it.  It wasn't until I got hurt on the job and eventually was let go by them that I could see how trapped I had been those three years.

    I was jobless and angry.  My first point of action was to get physically right.  On the night before I was to have double hernia surgery, I got a call from home that my sister had broken her neck and might be paralyzed.  I went into surgery not knowing whether she would ever be the same.  My sister ended up being a miracle and avoided major injury, but my "easy" surgery ended up having complications that still plague me to this day.  Weeks of healing turned into months and I couldn't walk well, let alone work.  My savings were gone.  I needed help.  It may seem cliche, but I literally dusted off my Bible and began looking for something, anything that would help me.  I began to read all the parts about the darkness and the light, because the blackness that had surrounded me was all I knew.

    I eventually told God that I wanted to change.  I would do what He wanted and go where He needed if He would heal me.  He could send me anywhere...anywhere but back home to Bemidji, that is.  Of course that's where I ended up having to go when it was either move back with Mom and Dad or lose my car.

    In those months, I learned a whole new level of brokenness.  I was still lost and angry, but I was also humiliated.  The jobless, single, broken, oldest son forced to tuck tail and move home was a terrible pill to swallow.  Something deeper was at work though.  I was slowly letting go of all the garbage that I believed I had to be to be relevant and worth something - both in the eyes of the world and of Christianity.  I had no idea what I was going to become, but I was willing to try...any direction but where I was now. 

    I eventually found the love of my life (it's an amazing story).  We got married at our engagement party (another day perhaps I'll explain that, too), had three crazy wonderful monkey children, and just purchased our first home this summer.  I also rekindled a passion for working with people.  Five years ago, I read a book about a man who was called to love the homeless (and how he was ministered to by them) and it changed me.  Shortly thereafter, I found a job as a homeless outreach worker to youth in the area and I have been there ever since!

    The purpose of this blog isn't to make claims about how I've arrived in my faith, how I know anything about anything, or to take pot shots at political parties or some other absurd soapbox like that.  When it comes down to it, I just want to talk and share what I see, feel, and stumble upon...  Hopefully, it opens the doors to a conversation that can help each of us.  I hope to learn from each and every one of you. 

Thanks for your time...it looks like today's blank page is filled...