Category Archives: life

Mitakpa–Impermanence

I recently read a book entitled “The Comfort Crisis” by Michael Easter. You can pick it up here if you are interested. It is a phenomenal read and beautifully puts into perspective the relative ease of our current lifestyles and the somewhat shocking problems that derive from it. It is overflowing with ideas to research outside of its covers and I’m sure this won’t be the only blog post I write thanks to the abundance of interesting topics it covers. But one topic, more than anything, really resounded with me, and that was the idea of mitakpa.

Mitakpa is a Tibetan word that roughly translates to impermanence in English. When I thought about it, I realized that I was almost certain I had ever used that word and wasn’t sure if I had ever seen it come up in text or conversation. I had a feeling I knew the jest of it, but I looked up the Dictionary.com definition of it just to be sure.

 noun

the fact or quality of being temporary or short-lived:

As taught by Buddhists, the idea of mitakpa is that everything born is subject to death and decay. They practice the concept by deliberately thinking about death and the dying process 3 times daily—once each in the morning, midday, and evening. You may be thinking what I was thinking when I read that. “Wow, what a miserable thing to do.” But when I learned how they expounded on that, it made a lot of sense both practically and philosophically.

They look at life as a journey towards a cliff in which everyone, inevitably, will walk off one day. It may be tomorrow, or it may be in 80 years, but one day it will happen. We have two choices regarding that cliff. We can either act like it isn’t there and be surprised when we find it, or we can acknowledge its existence and plan our course accordingly. It has real “one life to live” vibes but it hit me on a completely different level.

You can live a complete life without ever thinking about the cliff but imagine how differently you would chart your course if you made peace with the destination. I thought about who I was walking with, what we did along the way, and all the flowers I would regret not stopping and smelling on the way when I saw the cliff come into view.

I also thought about the people that chose to walk with me. Would they come to the end of their journey and wish they had walked with someone else? Was there something they wanted to stop and do along the way that I ignored while placing a higher priority on someone else? Good grief when you think about it, what an honor it would be for someone to choose to walk to the edge of that cliff with you. Am I doing everything imaginable to make their journey just as fulfilling as mine?

One great thing about youth is that, if you’re lucky, you don’t have to think about death very often. If luck continues to be on your side, you won’t have to deal with it much at all until you get older, more mature, and better capable of dealing with it properly. I was lucky on both counts but it seems as though my luck has finally caught up with me. I’ve now lost all my grandparents and recently just laid to rest my mother, who was 60.

My mom was still alive while I was reading “The Comfort Crisis,” but she wasn’t doing very well, and the thought of her potentially dying had begun to creep into my mind from time to time. I thought about her journey to the edge of the cliff and wondered if she had a fulfilling trip. I hoped she hadn’t experienced too many regrets and I prayed the time she spent with me was something that made her trip a little more enjoyable. I was also curious as to whether she could see the end or not and if she could, had she made peace with her journey? It comforts me to think that she did.

I don’t think about death 3 times a day as the monks do, but I do try to make a point to think about it from time to time. It takes me out of my comfort zone a little bit and helps keep me centered on the truly important things. I’m not an expert by any stretch of the imagination, but I do feel certain about one thing–life is a tremendous blessing and should be treated as such. I feel fortunate to be alive and healthy with no sign of my cliff in sight for the moment. When it finally does enter my horizon, I hope to greet it with a smile and walk off it with no regrets.

A Tribute to My Momma

This is what I wrote out prior to giving my mother’s tribute at her funeral. I had some people ask me to share it here.

My mom was so hard-headed and steadfast that I never thought I would find myself in this situation, and I definitely didn’t think it would be this early in my life. You see, if you want to figure out the recipe for strong willed and stubborn, I’ll let you in on the secret. You take equal parts Adams and Wallace, mix them with an unshakeable Faith, dash in a few life experiences and top off with a generous portion of Stone. Disclaimer: This recipe is not recommended for beginners.


For those of you who don’t know our family’s story, let me give you some background. My biological father signed away his rights to me at an early age. God must have thought that mom needed an upgrade and she found true happiness and got remarried. When I was in second grade, that selfless and amazing man adopted me as his own and gave me his last name. Along with a real dad, I was blessed with 2 sisters, twins, and only 4 months older than me, which they remind me of often. Just as my dad treated me like one of his own, my mom treated Tanya and Tonya like they were her flesh and blood. She never called them her step daughters. To her, they were a central part of the family that just happened to come along a little later in life.  


It’s unfortunate for all of you that you didn’t get to see my mom through the same lens I did. You see, we butted heads a lot. And I mean a lot. There was a time when we only saw eye to eye when we met each other going up and down on the see saw. Of course, as we get older we learn that the parents were right most of the time. And, while I know any good relationship has battle scars, I can look back and know with 100% confidence that she ALWAYS had my best interest at heart.  


She never gave up on me and she always wanted me to do the right thing. And I don’t mean that loosely. Her and dad raised me in a way that to this very day if I am having a hard time making a decision, I find myself asking what mom would do. And I’m sure that will never change.


As a mother she always went above and beyond, sacrificing her time and energy for opportunities for me. She always made sure I was at all my practices and games (unless they interfered with church), and we NEVER missed church. She held down a full-time job until her back got the best of her, but that didn’t slow her down a bit. I remember in junior high she would get up early and we would go pick up Rod and Jason Lowe to go workout and shoot free throws at the gym before school started.  


A few years ago on Valentine’s Day, I got a message on Facebook out of the blue from a girl who went to school with us in 2nd and 3rd grade. She was a Jehovah’s Witness and I know it much have been tough on her growing up. Her family didn’t celebrate holidays like the rest of us did and she was always left out during those activities. She told me that every Valentine’s Day she thought of us because my mom made her a special “friendship” card so that she could get something and take it home. It touched her so much that she’ll never forget it. That’s the kind of person Kim Stone was—always thinking about someone else.  


And then came the grandkids. And if I was ever unsure what my mom’s purpose in life was before, when Dakota was born it became clear that she was put on this earth to be Nana. Then came Aubrey. And Keegan. Then Hayden, Jaxson, Levi, Ben and Naomi. Each one carved out their own little unique place in her heart and she cherished them more than anything else in this world. In fact, many of you were probably late for a meeting or had to miss a phone call because mom wouldn’t stop talking about them.  


The last 2 years of her life were spent in a tremendous amount of physical pain. When she lost the ability to walk that physical pain was paired with sadness and heartache. Mom was an extrovert and she was energized by interactions with people. With Covid sweeping over the world and her extended stays in Little Rock, Conway, and Searcy, those cherished interactions were ripped from her life and caused her to go into a deep depression. For months she had been telling dad and I that her mom and dad had been coming to visit her. She was dreaming of Heaven and spending time with her family that had gone on before. I know she is where she needs to be and I know she’s with people that have loved her dearly, but that sure doesn’t make things any easier on us down here.

 
I’m forever thankful that we got her back to town in time for her to be comfortable physically and to have the opportunity for people to say goodbye. Even though she wasn’t externally responsive, I know she could feel the warmth and love on the inside. She took her last breath while she was surrounded by 3 of her classmates, and that has provided our family with a great deal of peace.


But I won’t remember my mom that way. For me, I’ll always be the little boy sitting on the church pew at 3rd and Harrison next to my grandma, watching my beautiful mother bang away on the piano keys like it was an extension of her body. I’ll remember how she would look over to me every now and then and smile so big like she was just so proud of me. I’ll watch her walk across the stage to the organ, without needing anyone or anything to help her, and I”ll close my eyes and listen to her play “When They Ring Those Golden Bells.”  Then I’ll open my eyes and see the tears on the faces of the congregation and know that so many other people will remember her the same way.  


When I first started selling cars almost 15 years ago, one of the first things I learned was the importance of quickly finding common ground with the customer. I found that the easiest way to do this was to figure out if we knew any of the same people. To this day, this is still one of my favorite things to do in any conversation and I highly suggest you trying it out, too.  


The look on someone’s face when they do know the person you are asking about actually tells you more about the person in question than it does the person you are talking to. For a brief second you get to see that person’s natural and unfiltered opinion of the other.  


In a town this size, and with a mom like mine, I got to experience this quite often. It would usually go like this: “You probably know my mom, Kim Stone.” First would come the sparkle in the eye, and then the smile would curl up on their lips, and it would usually be followed with an almost peaceful sigh and, “Oh I know your momma.”  


As we move on through life and the pain slowly starts to fade maybe one day I’ll get used to people saying “I KNEW your momma.”  

Kimberly Lee Stone

May 5th, 1961 to July 27th, 2021

Your Straw is in the Bag

I was on a late evening chicken nugget run for the kids and decided to go through the drive-thru at one of the fast-food joints in town. I ordered, drove around, and paid for the food like a normal tax-paying citizen. When the young lady handed me the food she said, “Thank you. Your straw is in the bag.” I thanked her and proceeded to drive out of the parking lot. But then I realized something—I didn’t order a drink.


I opened the sack and, sure enough, there was a straw laying right there amid all the chicken nuggets and sweet and sour sauce packets. But, why? We went on to the house, ate dinner, and carried on with the rest of the night, but for some reason, I could not get that poor lost straw out of my mind.


After spending way too much time thinking about it, I concluded that the woman at the drive-thru window was so accustomed to handing customers a drink before or after their food that it was simply a habit for her to put the straw in the bag and let the customer know it was in there. It may even be company policy. Possibly, it is just something she decided to do after repeating the scenario thousands of times.


Whatever the reason, it made me reflect on my behavior and how I could potentially fall victim to making the same mistake with my interactions with people on any given day. One thing I have noticed about soul searching or doing a “check-up from the neck up” is that, if you REALLY do it the right way, you often won’t like the results. This time was no different.


How many times had I kissed my wife or told her that I love her purely out of habit? Did I even think about the action or the words at all? I wonder if she could tell the difference. How many times have my children wanted to tell me something and I just halfway listen to them? Their youthful enthusiasm will only last so long. Did I give their conversation the attention it deserved?


Have I had a friend who needed someone to talk to or a bit of advice? Were they using small talk to help build up the nerve to ask a question that might be hard for them to ask? I hope my indifferent or un-attentive attitude didn’t deter them from trusting our friendship enough to speak freely. Am I doing the best I can at work, or have I been on cruise control? Are there people or causes that I could have helped along the way if I hadn’t been for going through the motions nonchalantly?


I got some marriage advice from a man once that has stuck with me for a long time. To paraphrase, he told me that marriage was like traveling down a river in a 2-person canoe. If no one paddles the canoe, then it just goes wherever the river takes it. To get where you are doing, both people must be paddling in the same direction. I think this advice is not only great for marriage but also can be applied to life in general. If nothing else, just to remember that you are “on the river in a canoe” may help us be more deliberate with our behavior and how it relates to other people.


Being “deliberate”—I really like that term and I wish I could take credit for it. In my opinion, it is the best word to use when describing how we can keep from getting stuck in our behavioral ruts. I’ve tried this in my daily life and, let me tell you, it’s not as easy as it sounds. For others, it may look different, but for me it means putting the phone away for hours at a time, turning the TV off unless I am actively watching it, looking people in the eye when they are talking, planning my day, taking a moment to step back and look at what is truly important in my life RIGHT NOW, and sincerely thinking about what I think a good life would look in the near and distant future.


I’m not a psychologist, counselor, or guru, so maybe what I’m saying doesn’t relate to you at all. But, I can tell you that after a short time of making it a point to “be deliberate about being deliberate,” I can see some immediate positive impact in my personal life. I’d wager a hefty bet that the long-term benefits will be numerous as well. The young lady at the drive-thru window changed my perspective in a way in which very few people have done before. Maybe she DID know what she was doing. Either way, I’d like to thank her for putting that straw in my bag.

We Could All Use a Little Perspective

I was taking my daughter to preschool a few months ago and, like nearly every other morning, she was gearing up to conquer her day in an energetic and rambunctious way. She was singing random songs, quoting odd facts, and asking aimless questions. We took the same route we have always taken and we were at a particularly mundane section of the drive when one of her random thoughts hit me like a sack of bricks.

We were traveling north and the sun was at just the perfect spot in the sky to be obstructed periodically by the small buildings on the east side of the road. “Bye-bye sun! Hello, sun! Bye-bye sun! Hello, sun!” she would yell as the buildings blocked the light as we traveled on the highway. I’m not sure what it was about that particular morning that made me pause, but a thought came to my mind that I felt like I needed to share.

That big ball of gas has a radius of over 400,000 miles and is floating out in space more than 94 million miles away from our planet. It is so massive that its force causes 9 planets (or 10 for you Pluto purists) to orbit around it. It is the center of a solar system for crying out loud. So how is it even possible that it can be obstructed by a 1-story antique mall between Dardanelle and Russellville?

Well, it’s all about perspective. One definition provided by dictionary.com for that word is, “the state of existing in space before the eye.” We don’t have to be physicists to realize that where we are in relation to an object is just as much of a factor as size or distance from that object in terms of how we view it. We don’t think about it every day, but we just know. For instance, objects appear to be larger when you view them up close than they do from a further distance.

But, another definition provided for perspective is, “the state of one’s ideas, the facts known to one, etc., in having a meaningful interrelationship.” All of this made me think of something that I remember hearing on a youth group trip to St. Louis when I was no more than 12 years old. If it caught my attention at that age enough to stick, it’s probably worth repeating.

We were sitting in a Mcdonald’s that overlooked the freeway. It was late in the evening and all of the cars passing by looked like darting streams of light that were here one second and gone just as quickly. One of the adults at the table said, “You see all of those balls of light flickering down there? Every one of them has a person or family in it that has its own set of unique problems. Some of them may be dealing with the death of a child. Others may have just been fired from work. There may be someone who was recently diagnosed with cancer. Some have already lost hope and others may not even realize the blessings they have been given.”

I don’t think about that story as often as I used to, but I am grateful that my daughter’s dance with the sun brought it back to the front of my mind for a moment. The last 2 years have been hard on my family and there have been plenty of times that I sat around and felt sorry for myself. I’ve felt unloved, unappreciated, and even invisible at times. But one thing I’ve learned through it all is that the best weapon to fight an enemy like that is thankfulness.

I don’t know if anyone will read this or if anyone who happens to read this needs to hear it, but if there is someone out there looking for unsolicited advice, let me offer a thought that has helped me through the rough patches. When things feel like they can’t get any worse, look around at who and what you have in your life and be grateful for everything. Some of the things you take for granted would be tremendous blessings to those who don’t have them. A little bit of change in perspective can go a long way in easing the pain in your life. You may even be able to turn something bleak and dreary into something beautiful and fulfilling.

Seasons and Stages: Learning to Embrace Your Current Spot

Gradual changes over long periods of time have always been one of those things that just screws with my head. I remember being able to hold each of my kids in one arm and feeding them by bottle. Night after night I was not able to see them growing, but one day I wasn’t able to hold them like that anymore. When I look back on it, I can’t put my finger on the exact time in which it happened. But it certainly did happen.

As I have gotten older and experienced more people close to me dying, I’ve noticed that people who are old or sick seem to be at peace with leaving their earthly bodies. I’m convinced that when you get to a certain point in your journey, something in your soul changes and you just become okay with the prospect of death. Some people even seem to embrace it.

Muhammad Ali once said, “The man who views the world at 50 the same as he did at 20 has wasted 30 years of his life.” The first time I read that I thought it was kind of silly. Everyone always tells you that the secret to life is to never grow up. You must maintain that childlike spirit even as you age. If you do that, you will never get old.

But when I thought about how that applied to my life, it made total sense. I’ve just recently moved into a new “season” of my life. Just like feeding the babies, I can’t tell you exactly when it happened, but it hit me like a rock when it did. Ali wasn’t urging us to lose our youthful nature, but he was telling us that each stage of life Is unique and brings about its own challenges and joys.

I work with a couple of young guys who are just starting to build their stories. Their wives are pregnant with their first child and they are settling in with their first big purchases while anxiously waiting to see how their lives are going to be changed forever. I’ve been giving a ton of unsolicited advice and feel like some of the annoying older people who did the same thing to me all those years ago.

But more than anything, I have been reflecting on that previous season of my life. The glowing wife, the stack of bills, the unknown future, the restless delivery room, those first few months of terror and sleepless nights. My wife and I are not having anymore children, so I’ll never experience these things again. Every day my kids get a little bit further from their beginnings and closer to sprouting into their own skin.

My first emotion was a deep sadness. I don’t remember enjoying the lack of sleep on that sofa the nights our children were born. I remember some of the little things that use to be annoying realities of having a newborn. But all of a sudden, I was sad, and I missed those things. But I quickly realized that those things aren’t for us to experience forever. And now I understand what those annoying “old people” meant when the said, “Don’t blink, bud.”

So, I am embracing this new season in my life. I’m going to continue to help my kids develop into the best humans they can be, take steps to become a better husband to my wife, enjoy my time with loved ones while they are still here, and spew tons of advice to the younger kids while playing my part as the annoying old man.

With all the division we have in the world right now, it is comforting to know that for ages and ages, people really have always been about the same. Through war and famine and plague, the game keeps going on and on, even if the players shuffle positions every few years.