Expecting Growth

Gaultier Umbrella

"Not everything that can be counted counts 

and not everything that counts can be counted."

-- Albert Einstein

Yesterday, my friend Diane at Contemplative Photogrqphy talked about growth and it reminds me of one of my favorite books:  George Land's "Grow or Die."  Despite having a fog-factor of 37, it is a remarkable book proving the premise of its title.  Unfortunately, our measuring stick for growth is almost always:  bigger … more … most.  

And, since what can be measured … money, speed, time, grades, votes, square footage, and anything else that can be turned into numbers … is what we usually focus on to determine growth, we wind up in a numbers race.  Which leaves all those fuzzy, squishy things like love, relationship, joy, beauty, compassion and wisdom, truth, peace, justice and goodness left behind in the murky, unmeasurable "out there."

And, maybe that's good.  Can you imagine if the folks who designed "No Child Left Behind" got their hands on relationship … or beauty?  You must kiss your spouse four times per day and plant three azalea bushes (color balanced to coordinate with surroundings) in your front yard.  And, next year, because growth is good, you will increase those numbers to five for kisses and four for azaleas.

What interests me this morning with this idea of growth, however, is personal.  Having reached the age of "retirement" and official entrance into senior-dom, it seems as if the expectation of growth has ended.  The thought has occurred to me several times in the recent past that I could stop … just stop … and no one would reach out and shake me and say, "What's wrong with you?  Get off your butt and get going.  You've got things to do and worlds to conquer."  They would just nod, perhaps give me a gentle hug and murmur something about enjoying my golden years. Well, excuse me, but F**K that.

Until our ashes blow away over our favorite vista, we should be expected to grow.  The modes might change and maybe we'll move away from all the numbers games, but we need to expect ourselves and our fellow seniors to grow.  Regardless of our physical or economic condition, we can pour kindness and love into the world.  We can continue to learn and find new ways to experience joy.  We can expect ourselves to wake up each day and contribute our hard-won wisdom to the world in small ways or large.  

We can expect to be a force for good in the world.  Our generation started out thinking we could change the world … maybe we still will.  Perhaps it starts with expecting it.

Bloggers! Free Review Book Available

If you are a blogger and have an iPad, I would like to offer you a free review copy of my book Joy after the Fire, when grief, loss and despair are the seeds of new joy and growth.  If you are interested in writing a review of this book, please send me an email at jwycoff at me.com with your blog url.  There is also a downloadable pdf of the book available for your readers.


Here's an overview:


Sometimes you can do everything wrong and still have things turn out right.  The common wisdom after a major loss is to not make any major decisions in the first year.  I not only broke that rule, I tore it into tiny pieces and tossed my entire life to the wind.  


While it's not an action I would recommend, it's the path I chose and it was a bumpy ride. This is a story of death and loss but it is also a story of miracles and growth.  At the end of the introduction, I write

Miracles await us.

Miracles wait for each one of us who makes the journey into the darkness, whether we go willingly or are tossed there by the vagaries of life. Regardless of what brought you here, whether death, divorce, disease or disaster, I hope you will join me on this journey and find for yourself the multicolored gifts and miracles of joy waiting for you in the deeply beautiful country of your authentic self, your very own Wonderland.

Rainer Maria Rilke, German poet and visionary, captures the essence of this book in two short sentences:

"Perhaps all the dragons in our lives are princesses 

who are only waiting to see us act, just once, 

with beauty and courage. 

Perhaps everything that frightens us is, 

in its deepest essence, 

something helpless that wants our love." 

Joy after the Fire was written to help others navigate the new territory that comes with loss.  At the end of each chapter, there is a series of questions that lead readers on their journey back to joy.