Imladris Abbey

Brad Bellmore Gets a Life – 23

bradbellmore — Thu, 02 Feb 2012 03:04:38 +0000

As I watch my girls engage with life, I notice that things I dream for them are changing. I dream that they will succeed at their endeavors, that they will know success in their lives. More and more, however, I find gladness in their failures.
I knew a girl in college who abounded with talents and skills and she excelled at all she tried. Her life was forged by success. In high school, she was the best of the best. At our college she was better than most at all she did. She planned to get a masters degree in broadcast journalism after we graduated. For whatever reason, despite her accomplishments, talents and academic prowess, the school she applied to didn’t think she fit their program. They rejected her and she was devastated. She seemed unable to recover from this setback.
I realized then that she didn’t have skills or experience to deal with this. She had never failed before.
I, however, failed often. My life is rife with flops and foibles. Rejection visited so often, I gave him a drawer in my dresser. Failing was a lifelong pursuit. I had literally been planning my whole life for the moment that a grad school rejected me. I was equipped to deal with it.
My friend’s first failure was colossal. How can anyone recover from that? I’m glad I had practice at recovering, at dealing with disappointment, at trying again, at staring anew. I am glad my daughters are learning these skills too.

Brad Bellmore Gets a Life – 22

bradbellmore — Tue, 24 Jan 2012 02:49:00 +0000

I frequently hear the quote that has become a cliché “insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results.” Isn’t that the definition of perseverance too? If you don’t give up, if you stand up and try again, isn’t that expecting different results from the same thing? Isn’t that believing that if I keep doing this same thing I will eventually break through to something new and different? Isn’t that insanity?
Granted, part of the idea of being persistent is that as I fail and start again, I (hopefully) learn from the failures. As I stand up again, I need to assess what has happened. Why did I fail? Is it something I can control and change? How can I try differently next time?
But there is power in erosion. Nothing changes in terms of the effort involved. It is constant, ongoing repetition that brings about the desired result, the change. Is that insanity? Or is that wisdom and patience?
Most days I think being persistent is lunacy. Most days, I am lazy and that is the true driving force away from persistence. I just don’t like change. I want the results of the change but I hate changing. So, am I crazy to keep trying? Am I strong enough to be crazy to get to my ultimate goal?

Brad Bellmore Gets a Life – 21

bradbellmore — Thu, 08 Dec 2011 01:30:59 +0000

Paulo Coelho in his book The Zahir, makes the intriguing comment that what he would like on his headstone is: He died while he was still living.
This fascinates me. I want to live my life better. To get a life – a real one. As much as I whine about my prospects of such and my ineptitude at doing so, it has largely become an exercise in just that whining. In my mind, this blog is my grappling with the resolution to live life. My reality still has but flashes of this.
I am taking risks, learning new things, trying to make changes. BUT, they all feel superficial, surface, inadequate. Are they incremental deposit of faithful perseverance that will one day result in an impressive accrual some day? Or is it merely a little boy walking around in his daddy’s shoes to feel grown up?
I need to find some real risks, do something that takes real courage. But what?

Brad Bellmore Gets a Life – 20

bradbellmore — Sun, 20 Nov 2011 22:25:36 +0000

Perseverance is hard when you’re trying to learn to persevere. I used to be good at this, but over the years I’ve gradually grown lazier and lazier and have los t my edge to fight to continue. For anything. At all. Now that I’m trying to learn to do this again, I find it hard to keep going when things get rough.
Not that long ago I wrote about the importance of getting off the ground. Simply standing up is sometimes the hardest action to perform, but it is crucial to stave off defeat. I keep reminding myself that. Everyday because it seems that everyday the grass becomes softer. Everyday just standing up seems to take more energy. Some days, it is getting out of bed that creates the struggle. Will it be worth it today? Some days my life (in terms of my commitments, schedule and pace) is not sustainable.
I recently read The Dance of Fear by Harriet Lerner. She relates the tale of a client of hers who lost 190 pounds. The woman said that she never thought she could lose that much. Even fifty seemed too much. But, she knew she could lose one pound. She committed to that and each time she accomplished that, she committed to doing it again. She claims she never lost 190 pounds but that she lost one pound 190 times.
That sounds like the mantra of the New England Patriots (may they never win another championship) back a few years ago when they won all their regular season games. They claimed that they didn’t win 16 games but that they won one game 16 times. A friend of mine made the same comment about trying to come back from a huge deficit in a racquet ball game.
The point is to focus on the now and the achievable. Big goals are nice but they are also daunting. Sometimes the need is to focus on the next step and doing that as well as possible. This may sound a lot like a 12 Step Program; take one day at a time. That is the wisdom I am applying here.
So as get out of bed, I push aside the thought that this is not sustainable. I only have to worry about getting out the door. Once I’m at the fitness club, I just focus on today. The next 40 minutes of aerobic activity is all that matters, not my goals beyond that. Focus on now, focus on what I can achieve and let the pieces fit together into the bigger thing.
Just get off the ground one more time. Get out of bed today. Today is sustainable. Press in and be thankful for today.
I look forward to finding what my string of single days looks like when I finally have the perspective to see them all together.

Brad Bellmore Gets a Life – 19

bradbellmore — Wed, 09 Nov 2011 01:45:54 +0000

So the theme of my blog has been rebutted. Well, not directly. Last Sunday’s Hagar mocks my running commentary. In the strip, Hagar decides that he is going to squeeze more out of life. He is really going to live until he dies. And Lucky Eddie responds with “Doesn’t everyone do that?”
It’s a great joke. The reality is that we all do live until we die. It’s kind of self-evident. Talking about it seems moot.
But my rants here and what Hagar is on about is the quality of life, the deliberateness of our living. How much effort do we put into trying to live? How much do we let life just slip past us?
I think the movie poster from Braveheart sums up my sentiment better than anything. Way back in the day, when you walked into a theater, there was Gibson as William Wallace, kilted and armed and the lines, “All men die, Very few truly live.” That tagline grabbed me when I first saw it and I still love it. Even though it wasn’t what drove the inception of this blog, it is underneath it all, part of the foundation of this movement in my life.
I want to truly live while I can. I hope to inspire the same in those around me. Yes, we all will live until we die, but how deliberate will we be about using that time we’re alive?

Brad Bellmore Gets a Life – 18

bradbellmore — Thu, 27 Oct 2011 22:26:40 +0000

So a week after I write about how it sucks to only see people at funerals, I find myself on the way to funeral. I saw a bunch of family that I haven’t seen in years. Some of them are people that I’m not that close with but are good to see none-the-less. Some, however, are people quite dear to me, people that have had a big impact in my life.
And I’ve failed to stay in touch with them.
And it took a funeral to bring us together again.
I am trying to figure out a way to stay connected. They live several hours away, so I can’t just drop in on them. Yes, this is an age of technology so I can email them or even go old school and call them. Even that seems hard to squeeze into the schedule too. Not sure why. It just does.
At this point I realize some of this is being deliberate and actually doing something about it. I can actually pick up the damn phone and make the call rather than sit down to rest for a few minutes at the end of my work day. It’s not that exhausting to call them. Usually it’s invigorating. And work, isn’t that hard. So why is it a struggle?
Maybe because there are so many other people that I want to stay in contact regularly and fail at as well, so I feel guilty calling my mom because I owe a call to three other friends. But I could be more deliberate about contacting them too. I love these people, don’t I? They are important to me.
Somehow this ties into the discipline of exercising. Or writing. Or anything. I can find the time to call and connect. I can find the energy to express and feel love. But I want it to be because I love them not because I’m being disciplined. But can I use the task to help me connect which will grow the love that drives me to want to connect? I know, it sounds convoluted.
But it has to happen. This can’t be my cycle. I can’t be connected through funerals alone. Life has to be the reason to seek people out, not death.

Brad Bellmore Gets a Life – 17

bradbellmore — Fri, 21 Oct 2011 00:35:30 +0000

We watch Biggest Looser in my house and I entertain fantasies of getting fit while watching. Some days I’m even motivated to exercise. Gradually, I’m creating a lifestyle that is more health focused. More active anyway.
One of the things that drives me nuts with the show is when people whine and quit in the middle of a workout. Let me say now, and first of all, that I am fully aware of my hypocrisy as I bail on workouts all the time. Actually, I might cut 5 minutes, or reduce the intensity level on the elliptical part of the way through. That said, I once was a fitness stud and I understand the importance of pushing through to the end. I get that I need to persevere rather than quit.
I remembered what it was like to play ball in college and when we had three-a-days for training camp. That last practice each day was a matter of will, not strength. We did what we did because we forced our bodies to do them. The sprints at the end were the worst. I literally had no energy to run forty yards, much less do it again and again. But I did it. Somehow, I did it, just as all of my teammates did. We whined and moaned. We never cried because we were men, manly men. But we suffered and pushed through.
Sure, I wanted to quit. I wanted to with every step. But I didn’t.
At this point in my life, if I ever am to have a life as I often propose in this blog, I need to rediscover that ability. To be able to push on by will when my strength and courage are gone, that is a virtue that I have let atrophy beyond recognition. Perhaps I would have finished a novel or two. Perhaps I would have pushed through to publication. Perhaps I would have not gotten fat and lazy and stuck in a rut.
Perhaps.
More importantly is, “what the hell am I going to do about it now?” I’ve gotten myself into this rut and I’m in process of getting out. Maybe someday, and hopefully soon, I can recover my strength of will and push forward. It may start with not lowering the intensity of my elliptical work. It may begin with actually hitting my self imposed deadlines on this blog. Whatever it is, this resuscitation needs to happen. If I am to get a life that is.

Brad Bellmore Gets a Life – 16

bradbellmore — Thu, 13 Oct 2011 00:46:07 +0000

Life is a long race.
I suck at long races. The thing that gets me through on long runs is focusing on my form. I completely withdraw into myself and find the rhythm of breathing and moving my arms and tune everything else out. It’s almost trancelike. The problem is I forget to enjoy the run. Of course that usually means the scenery because the actual pushing myself to the point of fatigue isn’t really all that fun.
With life, I feel like the same thing happens. I focus on what needs to happen to get through a day, maybe even just an hour. I just try to remember to breath and move forward and usually get to the end. Somehow.
In the process, I forget to enjoy myself. I forget the important things like connecting with the people around me. Important people.
About five years ago, I ran into some old friends at a funeral. People who are very dear to me. People that I love a lot. We realized that we hadn’t seen each other in years. Here are legitimate reasons: geography, growing families, work other life commitments. Sometimes it’s just hard to connect.
But are those reasons really legitimate? I mean, there are real and important, but aren’t the people too? Can’t I find some way to squeeze in some time with them? We decided that we couldn’t let funerals be the reason we gathered. If we left it to that, before long, it would be one of our funerals that brought us together.
So we became purposeful and deliberate about connecting with each other. For a while. Then life got in the way. And I started focusing on getting through each day. Almost trancelike. Just breathing and moving forward.

Brad Bellmore Gets a Life – 15

bradbellmore — Fri, 30 Sep 2011 01:36:37 +0000

Many people dismiss the physical strain of football because it isn’t constant motion like you see in soccer or basketball, yet it is an immensely tiring game. The most draining part of it is getting off the ground. If you think of the fact that most teams run roughly 60 plays a game, depending on your position, you may be getting up off the ground 40-50 times a game and that’s if you’re lazy. If you hustle, you might get knocked down and get up to finish a play, thus increasing you odds of getting up off the ground about 40% more times per game.
That’s a lot of time and energy spent just picking yourself up.
Thus, the penchant for coaches to make their players do the dreaded “up-down” drill. For those of you fortunate enough o never have engaged in this drill, the basic idea is to run in place until a cue, such as a whistle, then you drop to the ground and then get back to your feet as quickly as you can. Although the sadistic side of a coach might be the driving force behind these drills, or at least the duration of the drill. But it has purpose.
The truth is, there have been times in a game after I’ve been knocked down that I considered how soft the grass was and that I might just want to stay there for a few minutes, perhaps grab a nap. But if I wanted to win the game, I needed to get up and get back in the huddle. I needed to stand up and continue the game.
Sometimes defeat is fended off in small increments. In measures of standing up again. In each decision to re-enter the game.

Brad Bellmore Gets a Life – 14

bradbellmore — Sat, 24 Sep 2011 15:55:22 +0000

I recently had a flashback to the first conference I ever coordinated many years ago. The church I worked for at the time held conferences on a regular basis and part of my job involved making them happen. The first focused on people under 25. Since many churches disregarded people that age as not mature enough to lead, we decided to invest in them, to develop them since it seemed to be a time when many people had frequent sense of calling, a sense that God had big plans for them. Why not nurture and encourage that?
That was the environment where one of the worship bands closed their session with “Where the Streets Have No Name.” The audience clapped and stomped along as they sang. It revved me up. Inspired, I found my pastor who was the speaker for the final session and told him the first thing that came to my mind when I heard the stomping, “you are listening to the sounds of the Army of God marching on the gates of Hell.” He then related that to the full 300 people in the audience.
The flashback came when I heard that song on the radio. Immediately I was back in that old church listening to the army of God marching on the gates of Hell and I was moved. Then I remembered a paper I wrote in college about how Aragorn faced the gates of Hell three times throughout the Lord of the Rings. When I wrote the paper, it mostly came from a desire to grow up and be like Aragorn, to be a hero that rises up and leads. At the time of my flashback, I felt closer to Stryder, the lost and broken wayfarer trying his best to make something of life but far from the king he was meant to be.
My unemployment and depression held me in a place far away from where I had hoped to be. Far, far away from what I once thought I was supposed to be. I longed to get back to where I wanted to be, to be part of the army marching against the gates of Hell. In the movie of the Lord of the Rings, there is a point when Gandalf tells Aragorn that Sauron (the top bad guy, the embodiment of evil) feared Aragorn; he feared what Aragorn was becoming. I thought about that as I sat in my car listening to U2. Did anyone fear what I had become? Did Hell? Or had I simple become another tired joke for them?
For the last few weeks since that experience, I am trying to find my way back to my feet and get back to marching. That event is part of what inspired this blog. I am searching for my life in attempts to find me. If I find me, I want to get back on the road toward Hell. A long, long time ago, I saw a tee shirt with the slogan, “Born Again to Raze Hell.” I didn’t get it at the time. If I can come alive again, razing Hell will matter again. If I find my way there, then I will be someone that hell fears.
Hopefully there will be an army of us.