Peaceful, Welcoming Spaces

For some people, tomorrow is opportunity to carry on the family traditions we grew up with, and that can certainly be a wonderful thing. For others, holidays like these can also be a beautiful reminder of how far we have come in terms of chosen family, chosen faith, and chosen peace. 

If you’ve moved away from circumstances, relationships, patterns or groups that were breaking your spirit or didn't align with your conscience, good on you. No need to explain yourself. I see you. I celebrate you. I honor your choice to heal. Good on you.

There are also a lot of complex feelings that come up, especially in regards to both the loss of those you needed to leave behind to find peace in your world and with respect to the grief and horrors currently taking place in the world around us. A posture of gratitude is wonderful, yes, but acknowledging anger, hurt, pain or discomfort does not make us ungrateful. 

Some years, we simply carry more sadness or outrage than gratitude. I want to remind you that this is perfectly okay. We can hold space for the goodness of ritual, gratitude and tradition (whether through families or ones we have created on our own) and also feel frustration, grief, even anger. 

We carry so many things within us. Maybe the kindest thing we can do for ourselves and for one another is to lower expectations and do our best to provide peaceful, welcoming spaces for our weary, complicated souls to break bread together and simply be. 

I hope you and yours have a peaceful Thanksgiving, or whatever you call it, however you choose to celebrate it. You're Loved, Fam.

Bob Welch and the Heirloom of Dodger Baseball

Many of my favorite childhood memories are of my grandfather taking me to Chavez Ravine to see the Dodgers play. 

The one that will be forever cemented in my memory was my first ever trip to Dodger Stadium.  It was a Sunday afternoon game on May 23rd, 1982. In my first ever game at the ballpark (I was five years old), I saw Bob Welch throw a complete game shutout against the vaunted St. Louis Cardinals (who were deep, with Ozzie Smith, Keith Hernandez, rookie superstar Willie McGee, etc.). They even went on to win the World Series that year.

But as great as it was to see my heroes like Ron Cey and Steve Garvey, I was mesmerized by the performance of Bob Welch. Everything he did was flawless. He was an artisan pitcher of the highest order. Fortunately, it would be the first of many memorable starts that I would have the pleasure of witnessing until Welch went to Oakland in 1988. However, as good as they were, they will never replace the magic of that first game.

I've been lucky enough to witness a lot of amazing things in my life. I've seen the sun kiss the rooftops of ancient bathetic cities, felt the sand between my toes on majestic beaches on different oceans, I've stood, awestruck, in the early morning in the Pacific Northwest, watching the Northern Lights cascade across the sky...  And I've seen Bob Welch take the bump at Chavez Ravine and mow down a handful of  superstars and future Hall of Famers. 

I was never the same after that. I was, from that moment on, A "Baseball Man." That love never leaves you, no matter how many times the game breaks your heart. It's a lifelong love, and Bobby Welch was a huge catalyst in creating that spark.

The older you get, the more it means. 

Mr. Welch left us a few years back, but I can only hope he's on the mound, somewhere, in some other life, bringing joy to a little boy at the ballpark for the very first time. 

In the meantime, here in This world, pitchers and catchers report to camp at Camelback Ranch in three months. And after that, for a few months out of the year, I get to be a kid again. Some would say Bobby Welch won't be there, but I'd have to disagree..

Seasons..

I have come to believe that there are seasons for most things in this blessed, messy mystery called Life. And not all of them are easy. 

There's no shame in acknowledging our struggles, or in changing the way we experience things in different moments of our lives. There are seasons of belonging and seasons of deep loneliness. There are seasons of firm clarity and certainty and there are seasons of severe confusion, exhaustion and unknowing.

In this life, this reality.. There are seasons and they are cyclical. Good times and hard times interchange. Moments of stress dance with moments of indescribable beauty. We are breaking apart and rebuilding ourselves stronger through these seasons and changes. We are being continuously remade and sometimes, in the process, we come undone. It's painful and it's beautiful. It is lonely and it provides solace. It's sobering and it's restorative.

And here you are, right now, in another changing season of your life. Maybe you're in pain. You might be overwhelmed and a little lost, but you're also growing. And you know what else? You're beautiful and you're loved. Even right now. Even when it sucks. Even when things feel dark and unfamiliar, there is grace, as there is an every season.  

So if you're currently mired in the part of the season where grief abounds and hope feels in short supply, I am here to gently remind you that the feelings and struggles you are processing are valid, yes, but they are also temporary. Feel them. And know that you are loved and full of light, even on the darkest night; even in your fear or your despair. Even right now as you read this sentence.

More loved, dare I say, than you could possibly imagine.