It is the end of a good week that began with the end of a fishing trip and is ending with an increased and surprising understanding of what this blog means to me. I'm certain that a post in the near future will describe this newfound understanding. The ugly weather that is all around us has missed us yet again. Sunny day today and we were able to complete quite a few tasks at the remodel job. I'm looking forward to building a new home again though.
I've been thinking about this one for a while now... never really quite sure where to put it.
At Christmas time in 1995, I was in Denver with my parents, my grandmother, and my two cousins at the home of my Aunt Sylvia and her husband Monty.
It was a wonderful holiday for us all and I have many wonderful memories of that trip.
One such memory was how my cousin Kevin and I cheated during a game of Trivial Pursuit. There were many discussions around the table during that game, and this particular game was team play. Can you guess who my partner was? We were seated next to each other at the table and when it was someone else's turn and while spirited debates ensued over the validity of certain answers printed on the game cards, Kevin and I would pick out the next few cards in the deck and would study them together so as to have a "competitive advantage" over the other teams. Right under their noses and we were never caught.
While that may seem dishonest, it was all in fun... and we ended up losing anyway. Not really sure how that happened. I guess we were more concerned about getting away with it than using our winning strategy to actually win the game. Good times, anyway.
While I was there, my two cousins (Kelly & Kevin) and I took Monty's Jeep and went exploring a few times. One day we ended up in a town called Estes Park, Colorado. http://www.estes-park.com/. It's a great little tourist type place and we saw elk strolling right through town while we were there. There are lots of little shops and places to eat, and it's just a cool little place to visit.
We stopped into a little coffee shop to sit for a bit and have something to eat. This place was very small and I wish I could remember the name of it. I can't, but I do remember something about the place that was unique, at least to me.
When we walked into the place, directly across from the door was the counter with several of the locals positioned on stools. There were a few tables here and there, but it was the walls that attracted my attention. On every wall in the place were shelves running the entire length of the wall and jutting out just wide enough to hold coffee cups. They were spaced one above the other enough for coffee cups to fit, and the shelves were full almost to capacity with cup after cup after cup. There were hundreds of coffee cups of all shapes and sizes... and under each cup was the name of the person who owned that cup. He or she would come in for some morning java, take his or her cup from its place on the shelves, and would enjoy a cup of joe out of their favorite mug as if it were an old friend. Who knows? That cup might have been an old friend indeed. The staff would wash the cup and return it to its rightful place.
Casting my eyes about, I could see that some of the cups were short and some were tall. Some were white, some black, some were solid colors of red and blue and yellow and all the colors in between. Still others were adorned with very colorful patterns. Some cups were very old and others were brand new. A few looked as if they had just been in service and well cared for, but others looked forgotten and neglected.
There were those that looked like they belonged together next to each other on the shelves, as if they belonged to a married couple, and then a there were a few that looked as if they should have a shelf of their own. Some were plain, some were simple, and a few were modest and unpretentious while others were fancy and elegant. There were some that were downright funny looking, and others were just funny. Some even looked as if they'd been broken and glued back together again.
There were cups of different shapes and sizes and colors and each one seemed to have its own certain personality, and I believe that if they were studied and analyzed they would probably say something about the people who drank out of them.
Now I'm sure there are other places that do the same thing, this was just the first time I had seen something like this.
I've thought about those cups now and then over the years since I visited that little coffee shop. Several analogies spring to mind when I think of them, but the one that I keep coming back to is our personal relationships.
The personal relationships we keep are as varied and diverse as those mugs in that little coffee shop. It's been said that "Birds of a feather flock together" and while that is true for the most part, I would hate to think that I could only hang out with people who are exactly like myself. What a terrifying thought. I don't know how the people who choose to associate with me can do it for very long. I know that sounds funny and self deprecating but it's really not meant to be.
Think of it this way... how boring would life be if there were only one type of person, and that person were you? There could never be any surprises because we'd always know what the others were thinking. There's no opportunity for teaching or learning when everyone knows what I know. We've all seen movies or TV shows that depict this sort of thing... everyone looks alike and dresses the same and acts and talks and walks and thinks like everyone else. In the movies this is never a good thing and I think that it would be horrible to find ourselves in such an environment.
Wasn't there someone who wanted things this way? Wasn't there a plan that would essentially make us all mind numbed robots incapable of free thought or individuality? We didn't accept that plan before and I for one wouldn't want it that way now.
I love the energy that comes from having relationships with as many people as I can. The conglomerate of influences that comes from surrounding ourselves with diverse relationships can help us to mold ourselves into the kind of people we really would like to be.
Look at it this way... it's like a recipe for ourselves. Many different ingredients makes an awesome gumbo, but if we take out just one ingredient or alter the amount of another, then the gumbo turns out differently. If we add the wrong ingredient, it could potentially ruin the whole thing. We associate with the type of people we think will make us better, stronger, wiser, etc... And shy away from those who will harm us or change us in a negative way or even ruin us.
I wrote a few posts back that we all remain the same people we were 10 years ago except for the people we meet and the books we read. I read as much as I can, but the real influence I believe comes from the relationships we keep. The trick is to choose carefully. I'm not afraid to meet anyone... I'm not exactly shy, but I am rather selective as to with whom I will choose to spend my free time. Influence from others can be large and easily spotted, or it can be very quiet and unseen. And it's usually the subtle influence that can do the most harm to us.
My daughter Rebecca made some plaques a few years ago that said "Choose your friends wisely for you will tend to be like them." How insightful is that? That is extremely good counsel for anyone of any age or background.
There's no need to be afraid of new and different associates, but there is a strong need to exercise caution. Diversity in our relationships is a wonderful thing indeed if handled with care. Personally, I wouldn't have given those coffee mugs a second glance if they had all been the same. Who would care about that?
There’s also an opportunity to think about what kind of coffee cup I would like to be. What will others think when they see me on the shelf? Will I be the kind of mug that someone I care about will want to take down and spend some time with? Am I the kind of person whom others will want to associate? There seems to be more responsibility on my part to be a friend rather than have a friend.. Ralph Waldo Emerson stated it rather plainly when he said “The only way to have a friend is to be one.” The true measure of myself is not how many friends I have, but to how to many people I have been a friend.
God, my Savior Jesus Christ, my family, my friends, my loved ones, my associates, my brethren and sisters all over this world has had some influence upon me. Some have had a profound impact on which I have become, and others have played a bit part. Most of the influence has been good, some of it has been not so good, none of it so far has ruined me, and I feel so very grateful for all the people in my life. My hope is that your homes are forever too small to hold all of your friends.
One such memory was how my cousin Kevin and I cheated during a game of Trivial Pursuit. There were many discussions around the table during that game, and this particular game was team play. Can you guess who my partner was? We were seated next to each other at the table and when it was someone else's turn and while spirited debates ensued over the validity of certain answers printed on the game cards, Kevin and I would pick out the next few cards in the deck and would study them together so as to have a "competitive advantage" over the other teams. Right under their noses and we were never caught.
While that may seem dishonest, it was all in fun... and we ended up losing anyway. Not really sure how that happened. I guess we were more concerned about getting away with it than using our winning strategy to actually win the game. Good times, anyway.
While I was there, my two cousins (Kelly & Kevin) and I took Monty's Jeep and went exploring a few times. One day we ended up in a town called Estes Park, Colorado. http://www.estes-park.com/. It's a great little tourist type place and we saw elk strolling right through town while we were there. There are lots of little shops and places to eat, and it's just a cool little place to visit.
We stopped into a little coffee shop to sit for a bit and have something to eat. This place was very small and I wish I could remember the name of it. I can't, but I do remember something about the place that was unique, at least to me.
When we walked into the place, directly across from the door was the counter with several of the locals positioned on stools. There were a few tables here and there, but it was the walls that attracted my attention. On every wall in the place were shelves running the entire length of the wall and jutting out just wide enough to hold coffee cups. They were spaced one above the other enough for coffee cups to fit, and the shelves were full almost to capacity with cup after cup after cup. There were hundreds of coffee cups of all shapes and sizes... and under each cup was the name of the person who owned that cup. He or she would come in for some morning java, take his or her cup from its place on the shelves, and would enjoy a cup of joe out of their favorite mug as if it were an old friend. Who knows? That cup might have been an old friend indeed. The staff would wash the cup and return it to its rightful place.
Casting my eyes about, I could see that some of the cups were short and some were tall. Some were white, some black, some were solid colors of red and blue and yellow and all the colors in between. Still others were adorned with very colorful patterns. Some cups were very old and others were brand new. A few looked as if they had just been in service and well cared for, but others looked forgotten and neglected.
There were those that looked like they belonged together next to each other on the shelves, as if they belonged to a married couple, and then a there were a few that looked as if they should have a shelf of their own. Some were plain, some were simple, and a few were modest and unpretentious while others were fancy and elegant. There were some that were downright funny looking, and others were just funny. Some even looked as if they'd been broken and glued back together again.
There were cups of different shapes and sizes and colors and each one seemed to have its own certain personality, and I believe that if they were studied and analyzed they would probably say something about the people who drank out of them.
Now I'm sure there are other places that do the same thing, this was just the first time I had seen something like this.
I've thought about those cups now and then over the years since I visited that little coffee shop. Several analogies spring to mind when I think of them, but the one that I keep coming back to is our personal relationships.
The personal relationships we keep are as varied and diverse as those mugs in that little coffee shop. It's been said that "Birds of a feather flock together" and while that is true for the most part, I would hate to think that I could only hang out with people who are exactly like myself. What a terrifying thought. I don't know how the people who choose to associate with me can do it for very long. I know that sounds funny and self deprecating but it's really not meant to be.
Think of it this way... how boring would life be if there were only one type of person, and that person were you? There could never be any surprises because we'd always know what the others were thinking. There's no opportunity for teaching or learning when everyone knows what I know. We've all seen movies or TV shows that depict this sort of thing... everyone looks alike and dresses the same and acts and talks and walks and thinks like everyone else. In the movies this is never a good thing and I think that it would be horrible to find ourselves in such an environment.
Wasn't there someone who wanted things this way? Wasn't there a plan that would essentially make us all mind numbed robots incapable of free thought or individuality? We didn't accept that plan before and I for one wouldn't want it that way now.
I love the energy that comes from having relationships with as many people as I can. The conglomerate of influences that comes from surrounding ourselves with diverse relationships can help us to mold ourselves into the kind of people we really would like to be.
Look at it this way... it's like a recipe for ourselves. Many different ingredients makes an awesome gumbo, but if we take out just one ingredient or alter the amount of another, then the gumbo turns out differently. If we add the wrong ingredient, it could potentially ruin the whole thing. We associate with the type of people we think will make us better, stronger, wiser, etc... And shy away from those who will harm us or change us in a negative way or even ruin us.
I wrote a few posts back that we all remain the same people we were 10 years ago except for the people we meet and the books we read. I read as much as I can, but the real influence I believe comes from the relationships we keep. The trick is to choose carefully. I'm not afraid to meet anyone... I'm not exactly shy, but I am rather selective as to with whom I will choose to spend my free time. Influence from others can be large and easily spotted, or it can be very quiet and unseen. And it's usually the subtle influence that can do the most harm to us.
My daughter Rebecca made some plaques a few years ago that said "Choose your friends wisely for you will tend to be like them." How insightful is that? That is extremely good counsel for anyone of any age or background.
There's no need to be afraid of new and different associates, but there is a strong need to exercise caution. Diversity in our relationships is a wonderful thing indeed if handled with care. Personally, I wouldn't have given those coffee mugs a second glance if they had all been the same. Who would care about that?
There’s also an opportunity to think about what kind of coffee cup I would like to be. What will others think when they see me on the shelf? Will I be the kind of mug that someone I care about will want to take down and spend some time with? Am I the kind of person whom others will want to associate? There seems to be more responsibility on my part to be a friend rather than have a friend.. Ralph Waldo Emerson stated it rather plainly when he said “The only way to have a friend is to be one.” The true measure of myself is not how many friends I have, but to how to many people I have been a friend.
God, my Savior Jesus Christ, my family, my friends, my loved ones, my associates, my brethren and sisters all over this world has had some influence upon me. Some have had a profound impact on which I have become, and others have played a bit part. Most of the influence has been good, some of it has been not so good, none of it so far has ruined me, and I feel so very grateful for all the people in my life. My hope is that your homes are forever too small to hold all of your friends.
As for me, I am surrounded by an eclectic collection of coffee mugs and I couldn't be happier.
I'm going to need to build more shelves soon though.
Until next time...
1 comment:
Lynn, I really loved this article. I think about this very topic alot. I feel very grateful anytime i get to know someone new. especially getting to know them well, but even the relationships that arent real deep. I love just getting to know lots of people. i feel bad for people who isolate themselves, they miss so much. i am glad to know you buddy, you guys need to come visit us sometime.
ben
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