I think I take my sanity for granted.
Have you seen "A Beautiful Mind?" A friend of mine this morning commented how spooky it is to think that even after John Nash underwent treatment, took the drugs, and went back to teaching...he still had that little kid and that college buddy following him around, despite the fact that he "knew" that neither existed. It's a reminder that just because someone with a mental illness has learned to deal with it doesn't mean it's gone. I suppose that shouldn't be so hard to believe...certainly the mobile and fully-capable folks who have found ways to overcome the obstacles brought on by their paralyis still sit in those wheelchairs every day...I guess I just figured that once you licked a mental illness...it was done. It's like, "well, now I know what reality is, so I don't ever have to think otherwise again." But it doesn't work that way.
A friend of mine was recently re-institutionalized with troubles relating to severe bi-polar disorder. He is a fantastic guy, and seems to be extremely intelligent and well-intentioned. He just can't seem to beat this thing. It's hard to watch, and I am confident that it is infinitely harder to have...especially if you don't believe you have a problem.
I am going to visit him today. It will be my first time visiting an inpatient psychiatric ward in a hospital. I've seen too many movies (e.g. "One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest" and "Silence of the Lambs") to have a positive image of such places, but I'm certain the reality is far more manageable than my imagination. And besides...at least I can leave.
I hope for my friend's sake that these doctors are good, and that the therapy and medicine works. It's hard to watch such a brilliant mind get held in check by such a disease.
Sorry for the downer...I'll write again soon.
Peace,
Justin
Tuesday, September 28, 2004
Wednesday, September 15, 2004
A little kindness goes a long way...
I may be the worst employee of Vineyard Community Church when it comes to showing people God's love in practical ways. To me, SE is a great idea, and I'd love to hand out Cokes when the church provides them, but darnit it I'm gonna drop my own money on stuff just to GIVE IT AWAY. (OK, you can see the disturbing lack of reciprocity here if you read my earlier posts about the team of people who came and painted my house). But the other day, I tried something new, and I want to tell you about it.
I was at Great Clips (stop snickering, I had a coupon and its better than cutting it myself) getting a haircut while Stacy shopped at Meijer a couple of weeks ago. First off, may I tell you that they have installed a Great Clips right in freaking Meijer store...right next to the US Bank. Now you can take out $200 and walk out with bananas, pants, wine and a decent hair cut, all in the same hour. This is good because I was just thinking about how difficult our culture makes impulse buying now and days. Anyhow, I can't argue with the convenience...so I went in, picked up the obligatory copy of the only male magazine they had (Forbes, if you're counting), and started reading. Several minutes into my wait, a fella in bright blue hospital scrubs came in, talking rapidly on his cell phone about all kinds of medical jazz. I figured he was either a hospital doc inbetween procedures, or a very well-read mental patient who is apparently skilled with a lockpick. I asked (more politely than I've written above) and he told me he was (and presumably still is) a surgeon at Good Sam. He had just ended a long shift, and came in for a haircut. That was the end of my conversation with Surgeon Jeff (I can only assume that's his name), and I suspect it will be the last time I'll talk with him. But that wasn't the end of my relationship with him.
In the middle of getting my haircut by a young woman who smelled of cigarettes and sticky-fingered watermelon hairspray, I felt compelled to buy the guy's haircut. Don't applaud yet, it's the first generous thing I've done in a really long time, and I have had every reason to exhibit generosity in the meanwhile. Point is, I paid for the guy's haircut without him knowing it, and left. The last thing I ever saw of Surgeon Jeff was the duck-tailed back of his neck as his stylist trimmed away at his reckless sideburns.
Here's the good part: I thought about Surgeon Jeff the whole way home. In fact, I couldn't stop smiling. Really...I looked like an idiot...I kept smiling. This isn't "Chicken Soup for the Soul;" I didn't run into Jeff later or get a letter from him saying that he was going to shoot his dog when he got home until he got that free haircut...I just walked away and couldn't stop smiling. In fact, I went to bed really happy. Here's the amazing part...when I woke up the next morning, I thought about Surgeon Jeff. He was my first thought of the morning. My first thought upon hearing Jerry Thomas interrupt my peaceful slumber was, "I wonder what that doctor is doing this morning?" I wondered about him...I thought about his life...about his haircut...I even worried a little about him. I worried that maybe he didn't sleep well the night before, or that maybe while I slept he was awakened by his beeper, calling him to some late-night operation. I wondered if maybe he saved somebody's life, or that maybe he had a nice dinner. This sounds stupid...but I really cared about Surgeon Jeff. Like, more than I care about most people. For once, I didn't wake up thinking about myself...I didn't think about how much I had to do that day, or how badly I needed to pee, or why my throat hurt from sleeping with the fan on, or how I want to sleep more than I work or something dumb like that. For once, I thought about somebody else...I thought about Jeff.
This is something Steve Sjogren figured out a long time ago. (I don't know how to create HTML links, so copy and paste http://www.stevesjogren.com and http://www.servantevangelism.com for more info). Dave Workman seems to have this one down to a science too...but I'm still figuring it out. Get this: when you focus on other people, you don't spend so much time worrying about yourself. (BTW, I do know how to make italics in HTML, so there). Seems pretty simple, doesn't it? When you are outward focused you are not inward focused. I, Justin, the Master of the Obvious, am just beginning to get this little revelation.
So, pay for someone's haircut today. Or their McDonalds. And walk away. Don't ask them how they enjoyed being served. Don't ask them how their free cheeseburger was. Just walk away. Or drive away. And spend the rest of your day wondering what their life was like before they got in line before you at Great Clips or McDonalds, and wonder what may have changed.
Thanks, Steve and Dave.
Peace,
Justin
I may be the worst employee of Vineyard Community Church when it comes to showing people God's love in practical ways. To me, SE is a great idea, and I'd love to hand out Cokes when the church provides them, but darnit it I'm gonna drop my own money on stuff just to GIVE IT AWAY. (OK, you can see the disturbing lack of reciprocity here if you read my earlier posts about the team of people who came and painted my house). But the other day, I tried something new, and I want to tell you about it.
I was at Great Clips (stop snickering, I had a coupon and its better than cutting it myself) getting a haircut while Stacy shopped at Meijer a couple of weeks ago. First off, may I tell you that they have installed a Great Clips right in freaking Meijer store...right next to the US Bank. Now you can take out $200 and walk out with bananas, pants, wine and a decent hair cut, all in the same hour. This is good because I was just thinking about how difficult our culture makes impulse buying now and days. Anyhow, I can't argue with the convenience...so I went in, picked up the obligatory copy of the only male magazine they had (Forbes, if you're counting), and started reading. Several minutes into my wait, a fella in bright blue hospital scrubs came in, talking rapidly on his cell phone about all kinds of medical jazz. I figured he was either a hospital doc inbetween procedures, or a very well-read mental patient who is apparently skilled with a lockpick. I asked (more politely than I've written above) and he told me he was (and presumably still is) a surgeon at Good Sam. He had just ended a long shift, and came in for a haircut. That was the end of my conversation with Surgeon Jeff (I can only assume that's his name), and I suspect it will be the last time I'll talk with him. But that wasn't the end of my relationship with him.
In the middle of getting my haircut by a young woman who smelled of cigarettes and sticky-fingered watermelon hairspray, I felt compelled to buy the guy's haircut. Don't applaud yet, it's the first generous thing I've done in a really long time, and I have had every reason to exhibit generosity in the meanwhile. Point is, I paid for the guy's haircut without him knowing it, and left. The last thing I ever saw of Surgeon Jeff was the duck-tailed back of his neck as his stylist trimmed away at his reckless sideburns.
Here's the good part: I thought about Surgeon Jeff the whole way home. In fact, I couldn't stop smiling. Really...I looked like an idiot...I kept smiling. This isn't "Chicken Soup for the Soul;" I didn't run into Jeff later or get a letter from him saying that he was going to shoot his dog when he got home until he got that free haircut...I just walked away and couldn't stop smiling. In fact, I went to bed really happy. Here's the amazing part...when I woke up the next morning, I thought about Surgeon Jeff. He was my first thought of the morning. My first thought upon hearing Jerry Thomas interrupt my peaceful slumber was, "I wonder what that doctor is doing this morning?" I wondered about him...I thought about his life...about his haircut...I even worried a little about him. I worried that maybe he didn't sleep well the night before, or that maybe while I slept he was awakened by his beeper, calling him to some late-night operation. I wondered if maybe he saved somebody's life, or that maybe he had a nice dinner. This sounds stupid...but I really cared about Surgeon Jeff. Like, more than I care about most people. For once, I didn't wake up thinking about myself...I didn't think about how much I had to do that day, or how badly I needed to pee, or why my throat hurt from sleeping with the fan on, or how I want to sleep more than I work or something dumb like that. For once, I thought about somebody else...I thought about Jeff.
This is something Steve Sjogren figured out a long time ago. (I don't know how to create HTML links, so copy and paste http://www.stevesjogren.com and http://www.servantevangelism.com for more info). Dave Workman seems to have this one down to a science too...but I'm still figuring it out. Get this: when you focus on other people, you don't spend so much time worrying about yourself. (BTW, I do know how to make italics in HTML, so there). Seems pretty simple, doesn't it? When you are outward focused you are not inward focused. I, Justin, the Master of the Obvious, am just beginning to get this little revelation.
So, pay for someone's haircut today. Or their McDonalds. And walk away. Don't ask them how they enjoyed being served. Don't ask them how their free cheeseburger was. Just walk away. Or drive away. And spend the rest of your day wondering what their life was like before they got in line before you at Great Clips or McDonalds, and wonder what may have changed.
Thanks, Steve and Dave.
Peace,
Justin
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