I Made a Racism Flow Chart

Tricks, Cages, and Freedom

Last week I got to spend a wonderful day at SeaWorld as a part of my job. For those of you that don't know, I work for a school called National University and I am an admissions advisor that primarily works with international students that are studying abroad here in the United States. Once a quarter our International Student Services department does some sort of fun event so that they can take pictures of it and put it on a brochure to give it to prospective students so that they will think the University is super fun and they will want to give us money in order to attend. Somehow I finagled my way onto the trip roster and spent a Friday with Hamid and Mojgan from Iran, Chit Ko Lee from China, Mosha from Russia, and Shamu from Antartica. 

If you live in San Diego and have never been to Sea World I would strongly advise your attendance. In no way is this place overrated. Watching dolphins, whales, and sea lions flip, flop, and splash is worth the price of admission. 

Anyway, my friend Heather works for Sea World on the rescue team that takes in wounded sea animals, nurses them back to health, and then releases them back into the pacific from whence they came. So just remember that the next time you're working on that excel sheet trying to beat that deadline while you have 9 voicemails that you haven't checked yet, Heather is probably getting paid to cuddle with this guy. 

Tricks

Heather taught me a neat trick one time. Apparently every dolphin that SeaWorld acquires is trained and built up to perform in the dolphin show. However, only a select few of the most gifted actually it in. We're talking about the Miami Heat of dolphins. Those not in the elite section of the Cetacean family are sent to open display called Dolphin Point. These dolphins don't have nearly the same ability or intelligence as the one's chosen for the show. They are more like the Sacramento Kings of dolphins. Anyway Heather told me that these dolphins are still pretty smart and well trained. Supposedly if you get the attention of one and you flick your finger like you're drawing the Nike "Swoosh" logo in the sky, they will swim to the center of the pool and jump in the air. They do this in the hopeful anticipation of being rewarded with a tasty fish. I have never tried this or seen it done but while I was visiting I spent some time reflecting on how these animals live. By no means am I an animal rights activist but man do they live a responsive life. Following the instruction and impulses of others: Jumping through hoops, carrying balls on their nose, splashing the crowd, doing backflips. All for the hope of a dead fish and the applause of the crowd. 

Dammit if those little finned sea creatures didn't make me reflect on my own responsive nature that I am so prone to. Sometimes I find myself treating life like my own sea stage. I'm very good at knowing what other people want to see out of me. What tricks to perform and hoops to jump through in order to get them to be happy. Sometimes I wonder whether or not other people can tell that this whole act is just to get that standing ovation at the end. What do I need to do? Dress like this? Joke like this? Talk like this?  If I can get that approval at the end of the show it will all be worth it. Until this group of people leave and I have to perform for the next show in 2 hours. 

Cage

Every time I visit SeaWorld I inevitably end up having a similar experience while I am there. I find some animal that I convince myself I'm sharing a moment with. I lock eyes with this baby penguin by the corner of his cage up against the glass window and for a moment as we gaze at each other I am certain we understand each other in a way that no one else can. My prospective idea of becoming the world's first penguin whisperer aside, seeing animals in cages does stir up a bit of sympathy in me. By no means am I an animal rights activist but I can't help but wonder if they do feel trapped sometimes. What if one of the other penguins is mean or annoying? Do they ever wonder what life is like beyond the wall and away from it all?

Shoot here comes that self reflection again. Sometimes I'm trapped in a cage with this thing I can't stand. This way of thinking, this negative attitude toward family or co-workers, this destructive way of dealing with life. I just wish I could get out. Then I have this interaction with someone on the other side of the glass that looks at my circumstances compassionately and shows me what life is like outside the cage. I've been here for so long, is there really a way out?

Freedom

One summer, when I was 12 or so, my family decided to take a summer trip to Kauai, Hawaii. Kauai is one of the many places my dad's grandiose personality has taken us. And while we are there, he of course spares no expense to show the entire island just how much money he can blow on experiences that prove meaningless when taken in context that his family swims in a sea of dysfunction. [Put the resentment away Matt, this a blog] Sorry. ANYWAY, one of things we got to do while we were there was go Dolphin watching. We all piled into a speed boat with the nice tour guide that escaped to the islands because life on the mainland of the richest country in the world was apparently too rough for him. As the man whose tan undoubtedly leads me to believe he has only years to live before he contracts skin cancer takes us to the best wild dolphin viewing spot on the island, I am eager with anticipation.  To pass the time on the boat we Bishop kids played a game called "who can be the first one to vomit so much over the boat that we actually puke our spleen into the ocean". GIVING US DRAMAMINE BEFORE HAND WOULD HAVE BEEN YOUR JOB MOM. About 13 full vomit cycles later, my sister points in blissful relief that she sees dolphins straight ahead. Our captain and guide eases back on the engines and we gently drift toward the pod of dolphins as they swim around playfully. As they see us draw near, they swim straight for us, jumping out of the water and spinning around joyfully. These spins were incredible, sometimes they would launch completely out of the water and complete 4 or 5 complete spins before splashing back down into the crystal blue water. As we watched in amazement, my younger brother Joel asked our guide Hakineke (which I am convinced is translated to mean "he who doesn't pay child support") why they do that. Apparently there's a fascinating story behind these dolphins. Years before, researchers had spent millions dollars to answer this question. After all that time, money, and resources spent trying to get to the bottom of this natural mystery, they came to the following conclusion: The spinner dolphins are just having fun. It wasn't a mating call, a way of communicating, or a tactic to scare off predators, it was just an expression of happiness. 

I cherish the seasons in my life where I can be more like a spinner dolphin. Free from the distraught life of being caged in and free from the pressure to perform tricks. The thing is, people are still thrilled to see these dolphins in action but rather than following the orders of people they get to be who they inherently are gifted to be and it benefits others. 

I think this is how my giftedness works. In order to really see it thrive I have to be out of cages that keep me trapped in addictions, thoughts of shame, or apathy and I have to be away from crowds that cause me to lose my focus and aim for an applause. Out there in the wild away from all the confusion and noise, is where I am able to just be spinning free. 

It Wasn't My Finest Athletic Achievement, But It Was My Most Profitable

In 2009 I traveled to the MW tournament in Las Vegas as I have done every year since. Our women's and men's teams both made the conference championship game. During the women's game I was visiting with some friends a few sections over chatting when a gentleman approached us and asked my friend if he wanted to participate in a halftime competition.

I immediately jumped in and said "I'LL DO IT!" My friend said no he wanted to participate so we agreed to settle this dispute like the ancient kings of old: through a game of Rock, Paper, Scissors. Of course we were abiding by the standard, best two out of three format.

Little did he know that many a disputes have been settled in the Bishop household through games of Rock, Paper, Scissors. Things like who gets the last spot in the game of James Bond 007: Golden Eye or who gets to ride shotgun when two people called it simultaneously.

The first round of RPS is irrelevant. Obviously it is better if you win but identifying and discerning the pattern of your opponent is really the point of it all. Then you mix what you already know of your opponent (ie personality type, likelihood to risk etc) with what their first move is and it's a simple science.
In this circumstance, my opponent was a kid a few years younger than I who wasn't the most socially dominant character around. I don't remember what his exact moves were, but I do remember that he won the first round and I quickly dispatched him in the next two.

Anyway having been victorious in the first contest my next quest was to win the real battle. I had no idea what my prize would be but I thought more than anything I was at a women's college  basketball game it would be my chance to look good in front of thousands hundreds of people.. EVERYTHING I'VE EVER WANTED.

I got down to the court and I was told the rules. I had to make 5 shots from around the key before my opponent. The winner won free gas money for a year. "What does that mean exactly?" I asked with anticipation of a response far less appealing than the initial description. "Well you get $3,000 in gas cards to 76 stations. You get six $500 cards."

"I must win this contest and destroy my loser opponent. And if he somehow wins I will kill him in his sleep tonight." I exclaimed out loud for everyone to hear.

Anyway, Sarah Eishen was nice enough to document this event and this past week I tracked her down to see if she still had it. She uploaded it to YouTube and you all get the pleasure of watching it. 

                                   

So I count myself shooting 4-12 (33%) from around the key. An embarrassing number no doubt. But if you look at my opponent he is still at the free throw line while I am chest bumping a giant gas pump themed mascot. Regardless of my poor shooting.. I was $3000 in gas cards richer. In your face middle east crisis!

Life's Inevitable Pandora Commercials

So I have this amazing station on Pandora. Through the wonderful function of "like" and "dislike" I have molded and shaped what started as, "Solo Piano Radio", down to what I would constitute as the soundtrack to my life. It's been over a year in the making and I only recently perfected this beautiful medley that I usually put on to wind down from the day and read.

Currently I'm reading The Problem of Pain by C.S. Lewis. The station tempers my mind and eases my frustration as a I am forced to reread paragraph after paragraph of Lewis' incredibly intellectual rhetoric. Sometimes I will really get on a role and as I digest one meaningful passage after another I begin to drift off into a beautiful and peaceful place of oneness in my mind and heart. I find myself perfectly comfortable and content with all of life and accepting of all circumstances. I've got my comfy bed or couch, I've got my favorite author, and I've got Heaven's melodies resonating from my iPhone dock as it plays my "Solo Piano Radio" Pandora station.

Then it happens. One magnificent instrumental beautifully comes to an end as I amiably anticipate the next one I am instead greeted with:

"AT $399 A MONTH FOR A 30 MONTH LEASE YOU CAN BE QUALIFIED TO PURCHASE A BEAUTIFUL MERCEDES BENZ FROM MERCEDES BENZ OF ESCONDIDO. VISIT US 1101 WEST 9TH AVENUE IN ESCONDIDO FOR THE LOWEST RATES ON ANY MERCEDES IN CALIFORNIA. CLICK THE BANNER AND FIND OUT MORE INFORMATION ABOUT HOW YOU CAN ENJOY YOUR HOLIDAYS IN STYLE "

All harmony flies out the window as my flow is utterly disrupted. It reminds me of when I was a kid and I refused to wake up in the morning to go to school. After three times of asking, my mom would come up to my bed and aggressively pull the covers straight off from me. It's a sort of "yanked from the womb" type of feeling. Peace and tranquility are gone, replaced by a startling realization that the opposite of my previous state exists and it is currently shoving my soul into a locker like a bully does to a high school freshman. 

Of course this 20-30 seconds of terror eventually ends but it can take me a few minutes to get back into my groove of contentment. Sometimes I never recover at all. 

Such is life right? Sometimes it's going so well. The birds are singing, the sun is shining, things are good. Everything is where it should be and I'm at a perfect emotional equilibrium. Then the proverbial Pandora commercial hits. A complaint comes through at work, or I get word that something bad happened to a close friend or family member, or for no reason at all, an old thought or feeling surfaces that causes fear, anxiety, loneliness, or worse. 

There's an unnaturalness to it all. I want to say, "This isn't how it's suposed to be! I made life's playlist a certain way! I 've been scheming for years to 'like' some things and keep them around, and 'dislike' other things to keep them away. I want my life's playlist to be perfect! Where did this come from and why do I feel so powerless over this circumstance?" No matter how much I wish it, circumstances that disturb my peace will never go away. Ever. At least not on this side of Heaven.

So then I'm left with a choice. How long am I going to let this event bother me? How long will I let this feeling linger and spoil my current tasks? Some days are better than others. I think accepting the fact that these disruptions are inevitable, that I am not entitled to seamless joy and euphoria, is pivotal. The next beautiful song will come eventually. I've just got to be patient. All things pass. This will too. 

I suppose I could just pay for the premium version and skip the ads. 

Nah that would be cheating. 

My Life as a Guitar String

Often times when I explain my process of growth and healing to people I see confused looks on their faces. I've been accused of being overly dramatic about my flaws and nitpicky about my own character. I mean after all I am generally a good person. I don't drink to much, I'm not active in any kind of addiction, I don't have horrible relationships with my family or friends, so what is the big deal? Maybe you've been encouraged by someone else to go into counseling and you look at your own life and ask yourself the same question. To that I bring to you the following metaphor from my life this week:

My mom bought me a guitar a long time ago. I think I was still in middle school when it was given to me as a Christmas gift. For years I barely touched it. Even when she signed me up for lessons I never practiced during the week. The lessons she paid for were really a waste of time and money, I had no motivation to learn how to play the guitar. But my junior year of college a roommate taught me the four chords I needed to know to pretty much play every worship song written before 2010. G, D, Em, C. Since then I've gone through seasons of playing it a lot, sometimes even 4 or 5 times a week.

Yesterday I took the day off of work. I met with my mentor early in the morning and afterwards I just felt like taking a personal day so I texted my boss saying I was going to be out of the office. It was the perfect time to get things done that I had wanted to do for a while. One of them was to take my guitar in to get new strings put on it. I've had my guitar for probably 10 years now and I think I put new strings on it once, maybe 4 years ago. I honestly only did this out of obligation, because I really couldn't hear anything wrong with it. But usually I play a lot more in the winter (maybe it's the long, quiet nights that inspires creativity I don't know), so I thought why not and I took it in.

When I got to this guitar shop I had the following interaction:

Me: Hi, can you guys put new strings on my guitar?
Guitar guy: Yeah we can do that what type of strings do you want?
Me: Umm.. Acoustic. 
Guitar guy [with a look that makes me realize I am way out of my element]: Well what size?
Me: Oh gosh bro I don't know. Is there a basic size?
Guitar guy: Let me see your guitar, dude. 

I took my guitar out of it's case and handed it to him. He started plucking the strings and playing different chords. His face expressed he was in pain as he played up and down the strings, hammering on and off... I thought it sounded just fine.

Guitar guy: When was the last time you had your strings replaced?
Me: I don't know 3 or 4 years ago.
Guitar guy: And you just play it like it is? Doesn't it bother you?
Me: No it's kind of the way it's always been I've never noticed anything different.
Guitar guy: Alright man well why don't I clean the frets, put some heavier strings on it and tune it up for you and I promise you it will sound a lot better. It'll be about 25 bucks.
Me: You're the boss. 

I watched him as he took off the old, dusty strings that apparently could be used for interrogation purposes at Guantanamo Bay. He scrubbed the neck of the guitar and oiled it up leaving a clean and glossy finish. Then he put on the new, heavier strings.

Readers of my blog, I must tell you, my guitar sounds a million times better. I mean I didn't get better overnight, the guitar itself just sounds so much clearer and resounds with chords in a way that it never has. The songs I've played for years sound different. They sound like new. 

It took someone with experience and expertise on the matter to recognize just how much room there was for improvement. I couldn't see it in the middle of it all, it was just the way it had always been. I had accepted the sound.

Sometimes I think we can do this with our lives. We become accepting with the status quo of our way of thinking, feeling, and behaving and we come to believe one of the most dangerous lies out there, "well this just the way it is." Then we run into people who know beauty when they see it and know dysfunction just the same and our way is exposed as faulty. Sure you're surviving, but are you thriving?

Watching this guitar magician put new strings on was where I first thought of this metaphor. I imagined myself as the strings and God as this bearded, tattooed, hip guitar guy. The strings shoved down at one end, then stretched to the point where I thought it would break and pulled through the other end. Then he pulls back on the string further than I thought it was capable, releases it and as it slams against the neck of the guitar he tunes it to perfection. This guy knew exactly where these strings needed to be, exactly what they are capable of enduring, and exactly how they needed to sound. The entire process of getting it to sound good just looked entirely rough and violent. I wouldn't want to be one of those strings.

Oh but I am one of those strings. Hopefully I always will be to one extent or another. Always being stretched, always being fine tuned, even being replaced if defective or ugly sounding. And if I ever get comfortable and think I've got it all together, I hope there's always an unkempt, bearded, tattooed up, guitar guy to set me straight.

Or something like that.

Psalm 40:3 He has given me a new song to sing, a hymn of praise to our God. Many will see what he has done and be amazed. They will put their trust in the LORD.

How I'm feeling right now.

Translation from first lines in Hebrew:

"Let it be your will that my words of my mouth and the meditations of my heart come before you, God my rock my redeemer."

Today This Happened at Work

I understand if you are left speechless.