Have a Popsicle and find Michelangelo’s Angel

  By Silouan | May 14, 2012 - 2:18 am | Uncategorized
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When I’m feeling the proverbial happy, joyous, and free; I think of this picture. I took it when my oldest son was 4 and he was absolutely wide-eyed, in the moment, enjoying the pleasures of life.

It’s nice when you can slow down, sit on the porch, and focus on nothing but a Popsicle, or a cold beer, or playful banter with a friend or loved one.  That can get lost today, with the hustle and bustle and stimulation that can truly invade our lives, and leave us feeling a little less wide-eyed, in the moment, able to enjoy the simple pleasures of life. (continued below picture)

My oldest when he was about 4, enjoying life.

Stillness is one of the most overlooked virtues. In stillness, in a quiet place where we can focus on the breeze or the breathing of our lungs, we can go to places  where our imagination swims. In this imagination, I believe our innermost soul is most able to speak to us, unburdened by the noises of the artificial world.

Michelangelo said that, “he saw the angel in the marble and carved until he set him free.”

I like to think I can see the angel in the picture above, the angel in all of us that as we grow older and the stillness comes less often he begins to fade away.  But the angel is there, and he or she is found in Popsicles, long walks, quiet moments, and the stillness of life.

Now go to a quiet sunny place, and have a Popsicle.  Just maybe you’ll find your angel.

Leaving technology behind at Rangeley, Maine

  By Silouan | May 9, 2012 - 2:18 am | Family, Life
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We recently visited Rangeley, Maine, a place where phone signal strength is perpetually hunting for a bar, and internet connection at the cabin seems likes science fiction. But oh do you have life and humanity in spades. (continued below picture)

Ending our day at Rangely, Maine

It takes a few days to stop fidgeting at the dearth of technology, like a sugar or caffeine withdrawal. Then you begin to settle into the nature that is everywhere.  Lakes, trees, moose, bear, almost anything you can imagine.  Soon you begin to see it, smell it, and a long walk becomes something that flies by as your mind clears and your soul begins to lighten without the pressing weight of the world’s needs.

The above photo was taken near the end of one of our days from a summit high above Rangeley.  We must have stayed there for almost two hours just staring across the lake watching the sunset.  I don’t think I looked at my watch once. And the cell phone was back at the cabin.

I won’t let this lesson pass.  I will disconnect more, I will leave the cell phone behind more, when I’m sitting with my children I will turn off the computer, and when I’m staring out my living room into the forest I will turn off the bright flat panels, the cell phone screens and I will remember the wonder of Rangeley, Maine.

We do miss something with today’s technology, and I’m going to get it back.

The sweet taste of New Mexico

  By Silouan | February 23, 2012 - 6:02 pm | Uncategorized
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I was just in New Mexico looking at land outside of Albuquerque where the non-profit I founded, The Ladder Inc., might establish a ranch for veterans.  This would be one of many, all focused on helping those struggling to overcome trauma and live free.  While this ranch would be for veterans, others would be for children, women, etc. (continued below picture)

World's best tour guide of the future ranch, a real cowboy! :)

While there, we spent a good part of the day exploring the desert and mountain surrounding the land.  The openness takes a while to adjust to, but when you do, you truly feel like you are living differently.  You don’t feel encroached upon.  You don’t hear any unnatural noises.  You can see for miles and the cares of life really do seem to exist on another planet.  It’s at times like these when you remember that to fully live, you really have to give your soul opportunities and chances to breathe. (continued below picture)

Outside of Belen, NM

I could have stayed there for weeks, and when I left I was already thinking of going back.  But thankfully, the gift lasted when I got home.  I wanted to walk in the woods around my home, to turn off the computer and just sit and listen to my kids play.  I wanted to go for a run down our country rode, to count the stars in the sky.  I wanted to do all these things, so I did.  And the sweet taste of the New Mexico desert lingered with me.

Until I can return, I will do everything I can to hang on to the vastness of a spirit unloosed in the desert by doing what I can to appreciate and take time with the same wonders of life that surround us every day.  If we only stop for a minute and allow them into our life.

The power of open spaces

  By Silouan | February 22, 2012 - 2:17 pm | Uncategorized
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Just learned about a group that meets at Willow Creek Community Church consisting of motorcyclists.  Every Sunday when the weather is suitable, they ride to church, park in the same place, sit together, and then after church go on a ride. (continued below picture)

Silouan somewhere near the Tetons

To those who haven’t ridden before, this might seem strange, even a little show over substance.  But let me tell you, it makes perfect sense to me.  My first thought was of the long motorcycle trip I took after being disability discharged from the Marines.  I was angry at the world, angry at God, disgusted with myself and stewing over what I thought was nothing but a bleak future.  My military career was over and in my mind, I was just a failure.

But the power of the open road really did with each passing mile seem to release my spirit. Just the road, my motorcycle, and God’s creation, the miracle of our existence and the wonder to just be alive seemed to override all the pain I was still struggling to overcome.

Yes, this group of riders makes perfect sense.  You worship God, then you ride free in a world we are so blessed to live in.

Starting over when you’ve given up on life

  By Silouan | November 18, 2011 - 6:53 pm | faith, PTSD Issues
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A few weeks ago I spoke at a home for formerly homeless veterans in Niles, Michigan. We gathered in a small room around a couple of conference tables.  Most of the men were over 50, and all had led checkered lives.  Some were there taking advantage of another stop in the VA system, some where there because they were tired of the street, some where there because they were ready to live again. It can be a hard group of men to work with, but as I so often see, even the hardest shells can be cracked away to reveal a diamond. (continued below picture)

A couple of animated homeless veterans

I had a cold and wasn’t feeling well, but music is part of my story and I had to attempt a of couple songs.  As I hit the chorus of my first, Hold On, the room started to slowly join in.  First some hands drumming on a table, then a couple voices joining in the chorus.  Most of the eyes watching me had been sloggin’ through another day, but now they were starting to light up. If you were there, you would have believed that even in the most lost of souls hope truly lives.  And it does.

When life seems to have overcome you, we automatically look for big answers, for big changes to our situation.  But life usually happens in small steps, and every once in a while it’s those small steps that allow us to stumble into something big.  With me, it was my guitar.  In the midst of darkness and despair, I found the guitar and right there was a window to a better place, a place where even a wretched creature like myself could create something good.

When you are down, look for the small miracles.  Draw, paint, write, create.  Prove to yourself something good can rise for the darkest of moments.  Then when you create, you begin to believe.  And when you believe, the little steps that lead to miracles can begin to happen.

When we are broken, a flickering flame still remains

  By Silouan | August 13, 2010 - 4:27 pm | Life, PTSD Issues
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The more I travel around the country visiting our wounded warriors and their families, the more I realize how connected we all really are. Even in tragedy.

When life seems to overwhelm us, the easiest thing to do is let it isolate us. Which gives the darkness strength and can lead us to believe that their is no “life” to look forward to.

But not only is their life, tragedy can often be the fuel that for the first time in our lives allows us to examine ourselves with brutal honesty and allows us to find true purpose and direction.

At Fort Bragg this week, I met an incredible warrior, Jeremy Muncert, and his incredible family. Blind in one eye, his body shattered in a car wreck, he survived injuries and combat in Iraq to come home and die 3 times after a drunk driver wrecked the SUV he was a passenger in. Jeremy had every reason in the world to be angry, depressed, and hopeless. It has been, and will be a tough and long road of recovery for Jeremy, but when I met him, I met a great American full of hope and determined to continue his own incredible journey. He wanted to talk about life, and how excited he was to live it. He enjoyed my talk that evening and even volunteered to help me! His tragedy had given him a great appreciation for the “gift that is life”, and he was determined to take nothing for granted ever again.

Looking through the fog is hard when it seems that all we will be greeted with is darkness. But the fog is a deceiver, beyond the darkness their is always hope and a purpose that we each are uniquely designed to fulfill. We all get broke. We all get angry, depressed, and want to give up. Sometimes, we do give up. But we all have a new life on the other side of the dark haze and I believe in every one of you. I never loose hope in the human soul.

Thanks for everyone who has made my journey so amazing. 15 years ago, recovering from a jet crash, I thought life was completely unfair and without purpose. Little did I know it was only the beginning of a journey that would end in wonder, excitement, and thankfulness.

She lived passionately, with purpose…Eva Markvoort

  By Silouan | April 27, 2010 - 4:23 pm | Life
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I wish I would have heard about Eva Markvoort before today. Browsing this morning, I found the following on CNN,

“For the last four of her 25 years, former beauty queen Eva Markvoort blogged about her struggle with terminal cystic fibrosis. “It’s kinda tough to hear, but I can say it with a smile,” she says in a video entry, “my life is ending.”

I then went to Eva’s blog at http://65redroses.livejournal.com. In her obituary, it said this about Eva,

“She lived passionately, with purpose, and died on Saturday, March 27. She left a legacy of love and made a difference in the lives of thousands of people both in her personal life and in her online community. Eva’s life, almost 26 years long, was defined by her challenges related to cystic fibrosis. She knew how to live for the moment and her magnetic personality drew people in at every turn. Eva took nothing for granted and she had no time for complainers. Her life was full of vibrant moments and she appreciated all the beautiful aspects of her surroundings, constantly adjusting to the limitations presented by her health. Eva filled every room she entered, she engaged herself in the present and she learned to turn the most challenging situations into positive experiences. She was a force! Eva has enriched the lives of her parents, Janet Brine and Bill Markvoort, her siblings Annie and Hunter, her loving extended family of aunts, uncles and cousins, and her dearest core team. Eva’s family expresses their gratitude for the tremendous support provided by friends, family, neighbours, colleagues, the medical team, and Eva’s online community.”

She lived passionately, with purpose….

In my opinion, this truly is the key to happiness and drives everything I do, to live life passionately, with purpose. May you find your passion and purpose, and may it drive your life like a vessel filled with super-power life fuel. It’s the only healthy way to live.

Wisdom from the desert, my motorcycle fuel

  By Silouan | January 5, 2010 - 4:22 pm | faith, Life
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I was looking back at the diary I kept during my years exploring our great country on my motorcycle, and I found some incredible quotes that fueled me in the aftermath of my jet crash and search for purpose. I hope you find them edifying. I’ll try to post a few every couple weeks or so.

“No man knows how bad he is until he has tried very hard to be good.” C.S. Lewis

“Love asks nothing in return but seeks those who need it.” Dietrich Bonhoeffer

“The goal of America is freedom.” Martin Luther King Jr.

“Patient endurance kills the despair that kills the soul.” From the Philokalia

“Half the civilized world makes a living by telling a lie.” Thomas Merton

“A full life will be a life full of pain. The only alternative is not to live fully or not to live at all.” Scott Peck, MD

Italian POW Chapel at Camp Atterbury, Chapel in the Meadow

  By Silouan | December 22, 2009 - 4:18 pm | faith, Life, PTSD Issues
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Outside of Camp Atterbury, Edinburgh, Indiana, is a small chapel in the middle of a meadow surrounded by woods. Built by Italian POWs in World War Two, many of whom were artisans, they asked and were given permission to build a small chapel out of scrap materials in the prison camp. To find this slice of heaven, you turn off a non-descript two-lane county road, drive down a windy one-lane gravel road for a few miles and then in the middle of nowhere appears the Chapel in the Meadow.

 

Chapel in the Meadow

Click Picture to Enlarge Image

 

It’s a powerful symbol of hope, a temple to the light of purpose that shines in all of us regardless of our faith, creed, or beliefs. These POWs found a way to seek the divine in the midst of imprisonment and war, but the battle with self is always the hardest battle of all. Even in our darkest moments, somewhere deep inside us there resides our own “Chapel in the Meadow”. It could be faith, it could be our children, it could be a lost dream, a loved one, a journey we want to take; whatever it is, it is there, waiting for you to discover and grow it- not in spite of, but with the rubble of life. All our experiences, good and bad, provide the raw material, drive and desire to make our lives better. Just like the Italian artisans of WWII building a chapel out of scraps.