The Rest of the Story

Some days my daily life recollections evoke comments, shared stories or questions.  Yesterday, my romantic Puerto Rico tale brought a swarm of emails asking for the “Rest of the Story”.

Her dad was the head Navy Chaplain in Puerto Rico, so I hitched a ride to the Navy Station and waited with the SPs at the main gate till they felt comfortable in calling the house and reporting my arrival.  It took another hour for a family car to arrive, but after a big hug and introductions to her two younger sisters we started back to the house strategizing the whole way on how to talk her parents into allowing me to be a house guest. 

I remember standing just inside the front door in my unshaven face, long uncombed curly hair, an old army fatigue jacket and beat up boots as her dad’s body language suggested I had made a big mistake.  My first inclination was to salute.   In the end I won her mother over with my southern charm, and spent the week on beautiful beaches, riding the waves and watching the full moon dance across the ocean waves painted across a silver sky - wrapped in love. 

That summer, the people who shared their food and lives with me in the little German community I lived, the orphans I played with and taught to swim, and my Puerto Rico experience all gave me a better understanding of the importance of love.  

Puerto Rico Full Moon

After work last night I rode my scooter to the Bellaire Recreation Center and caught the meditation phase of MaryBeth’s yoga class.  As we walked out I was immediately enthralled by the blush of the rising full moon through clouds painted across the sky like breaking ocean waves, and I was instantly back in Puerto Rico 45+ years ago. 

I’d spent the summer working as a lifeguard at an orphanage in Germany, but my heart was with a friend from LSU who had gone home to Puerto Rico for the summer.  A 19-hour ride on a prop plane took me to New York City, where I found a $50 redeye to Puerto Rico.  Arriving in Puerto Rico at midnight I began to realize my surprise visit might not have been a great idea.  What if she had a boyfriend? What if her parents threw me out?  Rapidly my list of what ifs got longer, till I turned and saw the full moon dancing across the breaking ocean waves and I was once again believing in the goodness of life and love.  Are “what ifs” robbing you of time and life energy?

Change

I woke up at 2 am and thought about change, and how our journeys give us the opportunity to develop the skills and wisdom to accept and grow with change.  Some change, like aging, is slow, giving us time to tinker with life strategies to find out what fits, what works, and what doesn’t work so well.  But it’s the change that happens instantly that is the most challenging and requires us to reach deep within our foundational beliefs and values if we are to persevere. 

The last few weeks, my work life and cancer journey has been filled with change.  My abscessed tooth needs to be pulled, but they can’t pull the tooth unless I take a 3-week vacation/washout from my new chemo.  After hearing my latest challenge a friend ask yesterday, “Will you be okay?”  This morning as I rode my scooter to work, and watched the moon dart between buildings, I smiled as I realized, I’ll be okay for years ago I decided to be a cancer thriver, not just a cancer survivor.  And as a cancer thriver I’ve learned to take life one day at a time.  What will you do to make today special?

Capacity to Care

Weak this weekend from an abscessed tooth I watched the rain as it was whipped around by the wind forming abstract paintings on our lake and mused about my experience Friday night at a “celebration of life” for a fellow cancer thriver who is facing her 6^th bout of cancer in 30 years.  Surrounded by friends, family, and fellow cancer survivors she smiled, gave hugs, and moved like an angel around the room touching all of us with her hope, and love.  Cancer has a way of pulling people together in communities of caring, compassion, and courage.  But the strength of these communities is built from each member’s capacity to care for themselves, for you can’t care for others unless you first care for yourself.  How will you care for yourself this week?

Ice Walkers & New Beginnings

Growing up in Baton Rouge, I can only remember a few winters when it got cold enough for the LSU lakes to freeze over.  What a sight for a young boy that looked for Tom Sawyer life adventures every day with his best friend Gordon.  Awesome sight!  We stood at our favorite raft launching spot looking at the thin sheet of ice that spread across the lakes, “Hey Billy, bet you won’t walk out to the cypress tree”.   Our makeshift flag still hung on its branches that we had left from a triumphal raft sailing the past summer.  For many, taking first steps are always the hardest, but for ice walkers the thrill of the first step is tied to their pursuit to experience the fullness of life.  Ice walkers are never afraid of new beginnings, for they have learned new beginnings are a way we grow into who we are to become.  When was the last time you walked on ice?

Flow – Harnessing Our All

There were a few years when I worked for Tenneco that I would roller skate into work each morning.  It was a 7-8 mile skate and my safest route at 3:30 am was a mix of bayou sidewalks.  Each morning as I approach downtown I would meet up with a large group of cyclists.  One morning I heard from the front, “Sidewalk out ahead”.  That was the last time I skated into work for it took months for my cuts and abrasive injuries to heal.  When inline skates came out I was an earlier adopter, for their single line of wheels had less trouble with road rocks and sticks that are disastrous for a roller skater. 

Why skating?  When I learned to surf in the mid-60s, it was also my introduction into my understanding flow.  You know the feeling, effortless control of our actions while fully immersed in an energized focus of harnessing all of who we are.  The rhythm of skating, like surfing, takes me to a place of almost instant flow.  Last year, after my cancer spread to my hip bones, my oncologists suggested I give up skating.  It took me a while to find another flow activity, but this year I started beading and teaching “hope and healing” bracelet classes at MD Anderson.  Last night as I worked on a bracelet for MaryBeth using very small agate and coral beads, I was once again was riding the waves of flow.  How do you connect to flow?

Forever Gifts

What have my life experiences taught me?  In high school, I quickly learned that I would never be good at basketball, no matter how hard I tried.  My right eye is my sighting eye, and I toss a basketball with my left hand, making accuracy impossible.  So during basketball season I helped sell and collect tickets before the games with a boy who was several classes ahead of me.  Our soldiers were just starting to be killed in Vietnam, but that was so far away, and then one night my basketball ticket partner was killed when his car was hit by a train.  It was my first experience with the death of someone who had been a part of my life, and had touched my life in his special way.  My mother would die in a few years, and I would lose friends in Vietnam, but my basketball ticket partner’s death – taught me death doesn’t take away the special way people touch your life.  These are forever gifts.  What forever gifts will you touch someone with 

Gifts from the Heart

Last night my dreams took me back years to when I was a hospice volunteer and would sit for hours with young men that were dying of HIV/AIDS.  The hardest cases where those who had lost the love and support of their families, and I was their only visitor.  For many, I became the last listener of their stories, moments of joy, sadness, and their struggle to understand why life was ending.  Some evenings after my shift, I’d sit in the waiting room and pretend I was waiting for their families, and only leave when my numbness had quieted.  Other evenings I’d stay and hold their hands and only leave when I felt the rhythm of life return.  Last night my dreams took me back years to when I was a hospice volunteer and I was honored as the last listener of life stories.  Gifts from the heart.  Today be open to receive gifts from the heart.  

Suchness

It was a perfect day for the jazz brunch, a slight breeze blew through the trees, as the music enveloped and soothed our soul, and time was lost in the sweet suchness of each moment.  I sat on a bench in the garden and watched Auggie, our dog, chase butterflies and bee’s as the softness of the music ran its fingers across my soul.  Last night my dreams were filled with soft chords, garden colors, and Auggie’s passionate innocence for life.  Rare moments of experiencing the deep “suchness” of life, heightens my mindfulness.  This morning as I rode my scooter through the medical center, I passed a very young couple coming out of Texas Children’s with a baby blanket tossed across their shoulders, looking very tired and scared.  That moment the innocence of my suchness was touched by the hope I carry like a shield, my belief in the goodness of life, and I rode away in prayer.  May your suchness be deeply touched today.

Lone Warrior - Point Man

Yesterday, MaryBeth and I along with two young cancer survivors talked about our cancer journeys in a Health Psychology class at Rice University.  The first young women had been pregnant with her second child when diagnosed.  Her hospitalization required separation from her baby and for her to miss most of the first year of the baby’s life.  The psychological pain she described was horrific, and she talked about the therapy it took to believe in life again.  The second young lady talked about her rare cancer, remission, and recurrence after six years.  Her story was more about the fight with her parents, and physician to delay treatment so she could freeze her eggs.  A stand she took because she was not willing to give up her dream of becoming a mom one day. 

Their stories reminded me of my cancer journey and how my life experience affected my early years of living with cancer.  Growing up in Louisiana I was very comfortable with the swamps and all its critters, mosquitos, poisonous snakes, spiders, and plants.  During my Ranger training, I gained the nickname Swamp Rabbit, because I was one of the best pointman in my platoon.  Boy Scouts had given me a confidence with a compass and map, I had good outdoor eyes and ears, and a sixth sense about danger.  More importantly, I was confident and comfortable being a “lone warrior”.  My lone warrior skills kept me alive during the real skirmishes I faced on active duty. 

The first five years of my battle with cancer were hard on us as a couple because of my lone warrior approach.  It was hard for me to understand why she was begging me to give up my lone warrior pointman position.  I was leveraging my strengths as a lone warrior and fighting the most important battle of my life.  The same month cancer spread to my lymph nodes, MaryBeth was diagnosed with breast cancer, and I realized it was no longer my battle, but our battle.  We now share the point position, plan our battle tactics together, and fight our cancer battles almost always side-by-side.  I still rely on my warrior skills, but now MaryBeth and I are getting stronger together! 

Walking with Angels

Last week I had been teaching in Mays Clinic and walked to the chapel for a few quiet moments.  As I sat alone a line in the lyrics of Jim White’s Borrowed Wings ran through my thoughts, “You can’t get to heaven on no borrowed wings”.  The greens in the garden started to run together as my eyes teared up, and then a family entered and formed a prayer circle in the back with chairs.  I grabbed some tissue and left. 

Last night as I shared time with a Breast Cancer Support group in Bay Area, Jim White’s line came back as I listened to their stories filled with fear, courage, and hope.  The woman sitting next to me had just finished her chemo, and talked about how walking quiets her mind and helps her go to that place of inside out healing.  Many talked about their daily struggles to find that place of inside out healing through self-time, pray, meditation, reading the Bible, pets, working as volunteers, and caring for others.  “You can’t get to heaven on no borrowed wings”, we all have this journey called life to walk, one step at a time. 

Sutent Mini-Vacation

Yesterday was the end of my second week of taking the oral chemo Sutent.  Because of its toxicity, they ran blood tests to ensure that it had not impacted the function of my liver and kidneys.  My oncologists was pleased for almost all the values were normal and my cancer marker (PSA) was down almost a whole point.  This past year my PSA has been slowly creeping up as the tumors slowly grew in my lymph nodes, hips, and ribs, so yesterday’s finding was cause for a smile.    This week I will continue taking the oral chemo Zytiga with Prednisone, which I’ve been on for almost 6 months, but I get a week off from the Sutent.  The research shows that a 2 week on and 1 week off Sutent schedule improve tolerability, efficacy, and health-related quality of life.  So if you see me this week and I appear a little less energetic, I’m just enjoying my Sutent mini-vacation and resting.  Even an energy bunny like me needs rest every once in a while – smile.

Lava Flow Sunset

They had given us a corner suite last week in Chicago, and the sunsets from the room were magnificent.  We stood in awe the first evening and watched to lava sky unfold, and each day after, rushed back to our room mindful of the unexpected gift we had received.  Of late, I’ve been thinking more about the unexpected gifts I’ve received in my life journey, and their effect on who I have become.  Love and friendships have nurtured my understanding of heart-led living and increased the sacred joy I experience through relationships.  Strengthened by my daily practice of loving-kindness meditation and gratitude, I experience more lava flow sunsets, even on cloudy days.  Do you need to add more lava flow sunsets to your life?

Prayers on the Wings of a Butterfly

Sunday, MaryBeth, Auggie, and I headed to the McGovern Centennial Gardens and after a few short stops ended up on a log bench in the beautiful Family Gardens.  Surrounded by the rich smell of herbs, and flowers of all colors I was transfixed by two Monarch butterflies playing chase.  Every autumn, the monarch butterflies east of the Rockies migrate from as far north as Canada to Mexico. Memory is not their guide — no one butterfly makes the round trip — but each year they somehow find their way.  The sun felt good, as I thought, like the Monarch butterfly, somehow I’d found my way through the last couple of months of hardships at work, and with my spreading cancer.  My internal smile grew as I thought about how my prayers are like the wings of the Monarch butterfly, somehow releasing me each day from life pain, and allowing me to be.  May your prayers be on the wings of a butterfly…

Giant X Vapor Trails

Giant “X” Vapor Trails

The HERO Forum15 was one of those awesome moments in life when as Thornton Wilder suggested in his play Our Town, “you realize life as you are living it.”  There were many individuals that had been a part of my 35 year worksite wellness journey at the HEROForum15, many who I had not seen for years, and many I will probably never see again.  We all had aged, but as we bonded again, I realized their eyes and voices still held the same passion that spoke to me so many years ago.  Yesterday, MaryBeth and I did several long walks, and on one I watched two jets cross paths leaving a giant “x” vapor trail in the sky.  It reminded me of how my life has been blessed with so many individuals that have shared a part of their life with me and the giant “x” vapor trails we’ve left behind. 

Below is my acceptance speech for the Bill Whitmer Leadership Award I gave last Tuesday, September 29^th.  I had been asked to talk about my entry into the field and my leadership journey.  What struck me as I reread the speech this weekend was how many giant “x” vapor trails I’ve made with others along the way.  What giant “x” vapor trail have you made with someone else lately?

Thanks Susan Bailey for recommending me for this award, and being more than a good friend, more like a daughter.

When I was 5, my mom was diagnosed with cancer and she died when I started college, the same year my dad declared bankruptcy.  Army ROTC was one of the ways I worked my way through undergraduate school, serving in the Army as an Airborne Ranger.  I came back from war, like many, looking for redemption, and immediately went to work for a big church.  Six months into the job I broke my back in a car accident when a car hit me at a red light.  After a spinal fusion of four of my lumbar vertebra, I spent six months in the hospital and six months in a full body cast, before I learned how to walk again.  Somewhere around my 3^rd or 4^th month in the hospital I watched a young man come into the room across the hall with multiple injuries from a motor cycle accident.  I could only see the lower half of his body, and after several weeks, they took one leg and then the other.  The day he had no legs I promised myself if I ever walked again I would find a profession where I could help people that weren’t as lucky as me.  This experience over 40 years ago is what drives my passion for wellness. 

My dad died of cancer almost 25 years ago, and he never really understood what I did for a living or the concept of worksite wellness, he wanted me to be a psychologist like the rest of the family.  But my parents gave me values that have guided my life and work. The values of purpose, passion, perseverance, engagement, faith, and caring.   Receiving this award tonight, honors my parent’s faith in life, its wholeness, and its goodness. 

One of my favorite Baun-isms is “we don’t do life alone”, and there are many who have been the winds under my sail.  Bob Patton and Peter Raven guided my graduate programs, fueled my scientific curiosity and gave me a passion for excellence.  Ed Bernacki at Tenneco and Georgia Thomas at MD Anderson supervised and collaborated with me for a combined 26 years allowing me to grow, and for me to grow those I managed.  There are many individuals that pushed, prodded, and collaborated with me on research, writing, and projects that have spanned for decades and significantly changed our field.  My superhero’s: Michael O’Donnell, Nell Gottlieb, David Hunnicutt, Len Berry, Ron Goetzel, Nico Pronk, Sheela Sharma, and George Pfeiffer.  And of course, my biggest supporter is my wife, MaryBeth.  What an awesome journey – thank you all so very much!