"I can hardly beer my own excitment." Berlin #1 PRT (Parenthesis Reading Time) 0:47

Yes, I love beer. And what a gift it is (actually I DO think it is a blessing) to travel the globe these last four years savoring the flavors of amazing cultures…and their brews. I am here for the next week with my buddy Mike (the missionary), John (the pastor), Mark (the pastor and chief storyteller) and the rest of the DC team (pastors, leaders, baristas) to experience the Berlin culture. Far be it for me to assume drink preferences (remember the “when in Rome….”), but I am claiming right now that I will find it barley plausible to pass up the chance to hop right in at each café and encourage the server to get their “mug” on over here for some refreshment. Yes, of course, certainly I (strive to) experience life’s pleasures in moderation. But, c’mon, Mike just reminded me that the Trappist Monks, holy men and purveyors of outstanding brew for whatever ales you, must have after sampling their latest batch commented, “Praise God, life is good.”

My first evening here was wunderbar. We joined the Pastor Steve and his wife Karen from Berlin International Church (www.berlinchurch.org) and had dinner at the SONY plaza; there is a reason the tagline for SONY is, The One and Only.

That’s where I met my first mug and had a Nuremburger Bratwurst with sauerkraut chaser. My tastebuds will never be the same. It really lit me up…no further comments on that.

Then we walked and enjoyed the interesting mix of architecture, pre WW2 + post WW2 modern, ending up at a small memorial site to commemorate the destruction of the Berlin Wall. It was a sobering and enlightened moment to realize that right where we were standing (surrounded by the bustle and vibrancy of commerce and people) was considered the “death strip”; that neutral space between the West Berlin and East Berlin walls, where many people lost their lives trying to escape from the grip of tyranny into the arms of freedom.
This is the 20th year anniversary of the wall’s destruction; what remains of the wall is now adorned with graffiti art and surrounded by gardens, condos and the businesses of life. Dichotomy.
For emphasis – (b)

“The game is afoot.” PRT - 1:06

Dang (politically more correct)! It hurts like hell (politically less correct) to walk with an Achilles Heel injury. Me and Achilles are leaving for Berlin tonight. For 6 months I have been limping along enduring various levels of pain and discomfort. On behalf of 1) looking for relief, 2) finding anything redeeming and/or relevant to write about this affliction and 3) after a day of activity, including recently traipsing through Mayan ruins in Guatemala and shooting hoops with some 10-year-old boys... I turned to that bastion of wisdom with THE answers and (may I add) THE absolute truth about everything important in the cosmos:

The Wiki (not to be confused with a Wookie) of Pedia, states:

Mythological Relevance

1. An Achilles’ Heel is a fatal weakness in spite of overall strength, actually or potentially leading to downfall.

2. Achilles died from a heel wound as the result of an arrow—possibly poisoned—shot by Paris (c’mon, now stop it! Not Paris Hilton).

3. The use of “Achilles’ heel” as an expression used for “area of weakness, vulnerable spot” dates only to 1855 (Merriam-Webster).

Now self-diagnosed with "literary depression," I turned to the other sage for solving anything and everything medical: The great and wonderful Roman healer: WEBtavius M.D. He states:

What Can Cause Achilles Tendon Injuries?

An Achilles tendon injury might be caused by:

• Overuse
• Stepping up your level of physical activity too quickly.
• Not stretching enough before exercise.
• Wearing high heels, which increases the stress on the tendon.
• Problems with the feet and can result from flat feet, also known as fallen arches or over-pronation.
• Muscles or tendons in the leg that are too tight.

So what? As leaders, followers, learners and livers (not in the anatomical sense) we should consider:

• If Merriam & Webster have defined this condition of “inflicted limping ” since 1855, think it is something we should pay more attention to? Ever find yourself limping painfully as an outcome of not stretching enough before exercising your idea, strategy or decision?
• Might it be the time to change pace or direction when we find that stepping up our level of physical activity too quickly (by reacting too soon to that “slam dunk” or “gotta do it right now” opportunity) has caused unbearable pain from the resulting (mis)steps?
• When we feel problems as an outcome of operating too tight, think it’s time to check our pronation? Could be time to quit; when things are bad and good enough (a symptom often experienced from not knowing when to get off our high heels of pride, arrogance, fear or unwillingness to listen to someone else’s idea or suggestion.

Achilles wisdom? Maybe there just might be some good sole searching afoot.

As for the rest, it's Greek to me.

For emphasis – (b)

"Don't just do something, sit there." PRT (Parenthesis Reading Time) 2:01

I am not alone in living through this time of economic, emotional, cultural and (what I personally interpret as) spiritual correction. It’s a time of downsizing, rightsizing, reflection, rejection, job jitters, job loss, job hunting, lack of hope, lack of cash and generally anything close to the definition of ambiguity. I’d handled it quite well to this point having a few consistent clients providing adequate income, having little debt and a trimmed lifestyle (all my gathered possessions fit nicely in my 4X8 condo storage bin). And during this period I had also re-engaged my passion for writing, taking the first part of most days to read, reflect and write. It filled me with the sensations joy, the incomparable kind that comes from surrendering to the elixir of creation. So in a moment of intoxicated stupor I did that audacious, risky, chancy, precarious, pretty dicey thing; I prayed: “Lord, if it is your way for my life let me find more space and more time for my writing. To share my story. My heart. And your love as expressed in the inking of my life.” Simple. Tender. Harmless. Candles pirouetting their bashful shadows around the room to Segovia caressing mellow chords in the background.

It worked….

A personal warning to my readers: Be (very) careful what you wish for, aka: ask for, dream for, cry for, yearn for, hope for. God is listening! This applies to anyone (declared Atheists and residents of Nowhere, Texas excused) who has some sense, connection to or relationship with a supernatural intelligence. Do not pray or send such requests “out there” without supervision.

**“I INTERRUPT THIS POST FOR AN IMPORTANT ANNOUNCEMENT: The following is a blatant (might I even say shameless) solicitation: I need new business. I need new projects. Even austerity these days is pricey. Existing, former, pleased, confused and even somewhat miffed clients are welcome and encouraged to respond. Exceptional service, for less. I have a time slot just for you. Will barter for gift certificates, livestock or semi-precious gems; timeshare incentives to exotic locations being offered to early responders. Act now. Operator (me) is standing by….”

OK, now that I have purged my desire for crassly commercial pleading, I now return you to our post program.**

Yesiree, I am living the dream. I now have a bounty of momentary opportunities for reading, reflecting and writing. Additionally, I now have an absence of monetary opportunities for advising, facilitating and eating. In response to this unfamiliar dilemma, I did what any highly evolved, creative and blessed man would do: I fretted, checked the daily dosage limits for my meds and started looking for more work.

1. Check to make sure email addresses are current;

2. Fret

3. Draft multiple drafts of emails and phone messages that do not reek of desperation

4. Watch reruns of deodorant commercials reminding you: “Never let them see you sweat”

5. Consider the benefits of a strict ramen noodles diet

6. Fret

7. Do something, anything, now. Get busy!!

On my walk this morning around Lake Harriet I recalled a time during one of my prior (marginally effective) attempts at living “The Office” lifestyle. I was sitting in my office looking out the window and floating in one of my cotton-candy daydreams, when a colleague walked by…and stopped. “Hey Kagan, don’t just sit there, do something.” And as I remembered that past moment, I looked down to my right and noticed a peculiar opening at the base of a tree situated by the edge of the sidewalk. It beckoned me with its own sidewalk of smooth pebbles and a heart-shaped pebble garden that led to a tiny closed door. Behind the miniature entry I could see the hinted edges of rolled up paper; notes folded or rolled or crimped, and left restfully behind. Wishes. Dreams. Prayers.

And then…on my iPhone a song, Nature Boy, by Nat King Cole began to play:

There was a boy

A very strange enchanted boy

They say he wandered very far, very far

Over land and sea

A little shy and sad of eye

But very wise was he

And then one day

A magic day he passed my way

And while we spoke of many things

Fools and kings

This he said to me

"The greatest thing you'll ever learn

Is just to love and be loved in return"

"The greatest thing you'll ever learn

Is just to love and be loved in return"

Smiling, I remembered my favorite bible passage: “The Lord will fight for you. You need only be still.” Exodus 14:14

So what? The sailboat sitting on the lake with its dormant sails is floating…and still. No actions, efforts and fretting will fill the sails until the wind returns. Breathe. Relax. Keep dreaming. Keep wishing. Keep asking. Keep believing.

And most of all, “Don’t just do something, sit there.”

For emphasis - (b)

Nat King Cole (still) rocks! It is worth the 2:51 minutes to see and feel his gift of art.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Iq0XJCJ1Srw&feature=PlayList&p=6F6329F9BA00908F&playnext=1&playnext_from=PL&index=2

“Damn! I spoke out again.” PRT: 0:58

These days the most revealing things seem to be coming to me in cycles. Last month I bought a great bike. Being a contrarian rebel, I went ahead and joined the thousands of cyclists (Twin Cities is noted as the #2 cycling city in the nation after Portland – we have more sunshine than they do!). OK, so I conformed. I testify that after 119.8 miles logged so far, I am addicted.

So, what does this have to do with branding, communications or life you might ask? Here’s what I have realized that is shifting my thinking:

1. Bike seats are very hard and a pain in the butt. There are some amazing places I can go on a bike that I just can’t get to by plane, car or working 15 hours a day. Sure, my butt…and shoulder…and neck…and arms are sore, but the payoff of what I see when I stop to rest is far greater than the pain in getting there. The key is to know when to stop, when to stretch, when to hydrate and when to get off your ass and readjust how you are situated.

2. There’s so many types of trails to get you there. The Twin Cities Bike Map lists the following trail options:

a. Bike route on road

b. Bike route – CAUTION: heavy traffic

c. Bike path next to road

d. Bicycle corridor trail

The Twin Cities planners do an excellent job in giving riders of all levels options to get them where they are going. You can get just about everywhere and face no greater danger than a flamboyant inline skater, family trainer-bike outings and the occasional militant squirrel. But, I can tell you that 1) getting off the path and navigating your way through side street meanderings reveal some of the magic only found in the nooks & crannies of process, 2) your heart beats VERY hard and fast when you find yourself in the middle of downtown sharing the path, very intimately, with much larger vehicles, 3) if you get really lost, the people at crosswalks are very helpful in trying to point you in directions in which they have previously travelled…if you’ll just ask… and 4) you do finally get there in the end; maybe not exactly at the time you projected or the path you planned, but certainly with more experience for the next ride.

It’s all about the ride. Everyone can get something out of the cycling experience; there’s no excuse not to. You can have a bike that’s:

a. New

b. Used

c. Abused

d. Low tech

e. High tech

f. No tech

g. Pricey

h. Moderate

i. Lifted from the junk heap

So what? The experience of gearing up for change, shifting your way of getting there, trying new paths, wandering the side roads and discovering new points of view is the best way to exercise your options. You won’t tire from the revelations you will find along the way.

Trust me, it’s the wheel deal.

That’s my spin on it.

For emphasis.

(b)

“Given the choice, I'll take the three musketeers.”

Bar none, I will always cherish a recent Saturday evening in june. I was one of three men asked by a good friend to participate in the coming of age and manhood birthday activities she had planned for her remarkable 13 year-old boy. He is the older of two boys raised by a single mother. The three of them have and continue to grow through some overwhelming challenges from family transitions over the last number of years. To say that their quest has been fraught with confusion, pain, fear and unknown dangers & obstacles at each errant bend is an understatement of the grandest proportion. Their journey is a testimony to the prevailing might of love, hope, providence and the power of believing.

Here’s the script of the event:

• Each of us were selected as important and positive male influences in his life;
• Each of us was asked to select a single word that we wanted to convey to him as important on his entry and quest into young manhood;
• Each of us was to give him some type of gift, a symbol for him to carry with him reflecting the word value we shared;
• He selected a historic location named Winstead Park in Franklin, Tennessee, a hilly site from where you overlooked the landscape upon which one of the bloodiest battles of the Civil War occurred; the Battle of Franklin. http://battleoffranklin.wordpress.com/category/winstead-hill/
• We were to be positioned at separate locations along the meandering path, then after his mother dropped him off he would walk along the trail and encounter each of us;
• We were to share our words of wisdom, offer the gift to carry forward and send him on, alone;
• After the final encounter, he would gather us on his return path so that he and these three men in his life would walk on as a band of brothers toward what lay ahead.

The three chosen words were: LIGHT. COURAGE. STRENGTH. Having selected COURAGE, I took my position as the second stop inside a tree-darkened bend along the pathway. I rested the framed words and gifts against the road’s concrete border, sat down and waited. A pale breeze beckoned; I thought I could feel the last warm breaths from forgotten battlefields. I waited.

He appeared to my left, a soft blur of denim and plaid. As he neared my shadowed position I noticed the sepia of curiosity flickering in his eyes. He carried a thick blue flashlight, the gift of LIGHT from his first stop. The next moments intertwined our minds and spirits with the my following words:

Courage.

Courage is what’s found in scales of armor shielding the dragon’s fiery heart

Courage is what’s found when a geode’s hidden secrets explode with sunlight

Courage is what’s found in chasing the lions of your imagination

Courage is what’s found on paths mapped beneath the stars of your dreams

Courage is what’s found in the few who sail against winds of doubt

Courage is what’s found in the piercing wisdom of the night owl’s eyes

Courage is what’s found in pursuing trails carved with the neon of fireflies

Courage is what’s found when others believe everything is lost

Courage is what’s found beyond the clouds, where wings spawn and play

Courage is what’s found in the pocket where the power of believing is kept

Courage is what’s found in truth’s unbreakable sword, fear’s conqueror

Courage is what’s found in every step of every man inviting life’s quest

Courage is what’s found in the boy becoming the man.

Magic. Wonder. Believing.

For today and all your tomorrows – Brian

I handed him the parchment words in a rough-hewed wood frame along with a chunk of blended minerals and a small, jagged heart-shaped rock. And then he walked on.

So what? As leaders, followers, teachers, learners and sojourners it is good to consider:

1. LIGHT. Lighten your load: This world puts many heavy, scary, prickly things (that go bump in the night, too) in our paths as boys and girls… and then as men and women. And from experience I have discovered that if you try to protect and armor yourself from all those things that take your breath away, hurt, darken your journey and scare you to death…you will also shut yourself off from all those things that take your breath away, mend, enlighten your journey and scare you to life.
2. COURAGE. “If I only had the nerve.” Cowardly Lion, The Wizard of Oz. "But courage, child: we are all between the paws of the true Aslan." C.S. Lewis, The Chronicles of Narnia. No matter what give us pause… the courage is always found when we walk the roads toward our fears; carrying the flame of believing, blade of truth and heart of the warrior we cannot be defeated.
3. STRENGTH. The true meaning of strength is not defined by the measurement of your muscles, but in the depth of your values; not found in the power of your stamina, but in your enduring commitments; not in the might of your conquests, but in the valor of your compassion.

The boy, becoming the man, becoming the boy.

For emphasis – (b)