One man’s journey to discovering his authentic self.
One man’s journey to discovering his authentic self.
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Overview
One man’s journey to discovering his authentic self.
Product Details
| ISBN-13: | 9781458208170 |
|---|---|
| Publisher: | Abbott Press |
| Publication date: | 02/19/2013 |
| Sold by: | Barnes & Noble |
| Format: | eBook |
| Pages: | 84 |
| File size: | 1 MB |
Read an Excerpt
"The Spirit of the Horse" and Other Works
By PHIL RAY JACK
Abbott Press
Copyright © 2013 PHIL RAY JACKAll right reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-4582-0819-4
Chapter One
It Seems to Me: Coming Home
After moving away more than twenty years ago, I returned to the San Luis Valley last June. While I enjoyed most of the places I've lived, it feels great to be back home again.
I left to pursue a career teaching in college, and for more that seventeen years, I struggled to survive as a "professional part-time instructor" while trying to land a full-time position. A lot of people are surprised when they hear that approximately eighty percent of college classes are taught by adjunct, or part-time, instructors, and that there is a lot of competition of full-time positions.
I eventually realized that if you don't like the way things are, you can either work to change them or remain miserable until someone else does something, and I became involved in our faculty union. A couple of years later, I became the first part-time instructor in the history of the State of Washington to be elected president of a faculty union local.
Finally, after more than seventeen years of a career that spanned three states and included teaching for seven institutions of higher learning, I was hired as a full-time instructor. I felt this was the culmination of my hopes and dreams.
The tenure process is much more grueling than most people realize. While each state and institution has its own set of guidelines, they all strive to assure that those who are granted tenure will maintain high standards of learning. In my case, I worked with a committee comprised of three faculty members (one from our division, one selected by the union, and one that I chose), an administrator, and a student. For three years, they observed my classes, conducted student evaluations, and offered constructive criticism and guidance.
Unfortunately, in spite of the fact that my committee unanimously recommended that I be granted tenure, the Board of Trustees rejected my application and gave me an additional year to work on an improvement plan. The recommendation of a committee comprised of professional educators who had worked closely with me for three years (not including the ten years I had worked there as a part-time instructor and the president of the faculty union) was rejected based on anonymous student responses to two questions on student evaluations in two of my classes.
And then, last January, I almost lost both of my parents and flew back so that I could spend what I thought were their last days with them. The timing couldn't have been worse. I left at the same time my tenure committee was making their final recommendation, but my family came first.
Fortunately, my parents are stubborn enough to pull through, and are doing fine, but a few weeks after I returned to Seattle, I was given the choice between resigning or having my tenure application rejected.
My best friend, Diane, saw my struggles and took me to a ranch where she was taking riding lessons.
On that first day, I simply helped lead the horses from their pastures to their stables and watched Diane as she rode, but being near the horses fed a part of my soul that I had ignored for too long. I went back to the ranch a week later and paid for a private lesson.
As soon as I sat in the saddle, everything became clear to me. It had been more than twenty years since I had been on a horse, and I had forgotten how much I love being in the saddle.
I realized that I needed to be in a place where I could have a horse underneath me and the Rockies at my back, and I decided it was time for me to return to my roots and to my real, authentic self.
For years, I had boasted that my friends and family get frustrated on my birthdays and Christmas because they don't have any idea what to get me. I believed that it was because my life was complete and that I had everything I wanted, but when I sat in that saddle, I realized that I had become so caught up in providing service to others - both as a teacher and a leader in the union - that I had lost sight of who I am. I really didn't even know what I wanted out of life - how could anyone else?
It was hard to leave Seattle. I had made a lot of friends, and all three of my daughters, as well as my two granddaughters, live in Washington State. At that time, I believed it would mean ending my career as a teacher, and it meant walking away from a relationship that had become very important to me. At least, that's how I felt at the time.
In spite of all these things, I knew it was a move I had to make. I didn't feel like I was running away from anything, rather I felt like I was moving toward my future.
But once I made the decision, things seemed to fall into place for me. The huge issues and problems I had been dealing with didn't disappear, but I realized that they weren't as overwhelming as they had seemed. I worked to the end of my contract and used the time to gain a better understanding of who I am and what I want to accomplish in my life.
My sister helped me find the cabin in South Fork, Colorado, so that I had a place to live when I got here. I only brought the possessions I could get into my van, and I started building my new life from scratch.
When I reached my new home, I started getting ready for a horse. I began looking for a place to keep him. I heard that feed is prett y scarce this year, so I bought enough hay and oats to feed two horses for a year. A few people felt it was strange that I bought feed and had found a pasture when I didn't even own a horse! Still, I didn't want to own a horse and not have anything to feed it or a place to keep it.
Now, I own two horses, Wink and Colorado Rose, and I spend as much time in the saddle as I possibly can.
I begin my day sitting next to the river and enjoying the peaceful sounds of the morning. I'm close to family and get to see my parents often. I'm currently teaching a class at Adams State, and in a few months, I will be publishing a collection of my poems and reflections followed by a novel that I'm working on.
I've re-discovered myself, and I'm getting to know myself better every day.
It feels good to be home again.
(Note: Since this column was originally published, I've gotten a third horse – Midnight Wind. Life is good.)
Soar High
Soar high,
My well-loved friend,
And fly without fear.
If you should ever need me,
Just call,
And I'll be near.
Remember:
The skies were not made
For those afraid to fly,
Nor dreams,
For those afraid to live,
So unfold your wings,
Dream your dreams,
And give life
All you have to give.
It Seems to Me: Attitude Plus Effort
Recently I was reminded of a story I heard on one of the episodes of the West Wing television series. An old man and a young man are sitting on a porch when a passing traveler asks. "I'm moving to the next town, and I was wondering if you could tell me what it's like."
"What was the last town you lived in like?" the old man asks.
"It was great! I really hated to leave. People were friendly, and I made a lot of good friends there."
"That's what the next town is like," answered the old man, and the traveler smiled and continued on his journey.
After awhile, another traveler stopped and said, "Excuse me, but I'm moving to the next town. Could you tell me what it's like?"
Once again, the old man asked, "What was the last town you lived in like?"
"It was terrible," the traveler answered. "I couldn't trust anyone. Everyone was out to get ahead, and they'd stab you in the back to get there. I hated it, and I was glad to leave."
"I'm afraid that it's the same in the next town," the old man said.
After the second traveler left, the young man pointed out, "You gave completely different answers to each traveler, yet they are both going to the same town. Which was the true answer?"
"Both answers were true," said the old man. "Our lives are determined more by our attitudes than circumstances. Each traveler will find what they expect in the next town."
Of course, that is oversimplifying things. In Winning Through Intimidation, Robert J. Ringer points out that having a positive attitude is not enough. We not only have to believe that we will succeed, but we also have to work to make positive things happen. Sometimes we also have to recognize that, no matter what we do, we can't control the actions and choices made by others. We may be able to influence them (but often we aren't even able to accomplish that), but we can't control them.
And sometimes circumstances make it difficult to maintain a positive attitude. As we go through life, we all experience disappointment and loss.
But having a positive attitude can help us get through the hard times and help us to accomplish goals. If we don't believe we can make a difference or change the circumstances of our life, we won't try. Of course, having a positive attitude won't accomplish anything unless we back it up with action.
Another Day
It used to be
That seconds ticked softly
While hands slowly
Circled clocks' faces.
Now
Bright red numbers
Flash warnings
That time is rushing by.
That second's gone ...
Another ... another ...
Hours lost –
Days rush by.
"What have I done?"
Three hundred emails
Answered yesterday!
Two meetings!
Decisions made!
Tasks Completed!
Life set aside.
The sun set unnoticed.
Silvery raindrops
Fell from fresh leaves.
All unseen.
A little girl smiled
And reached for me –
"Poppa! Poppa!"
I picked her up,
Felt her small arms squeeze
As she says,
"Hugs make me Happy!"
Storm on the Horizon
Lightening dances across the horizon
Racing from dark clouds blanketing rocky peaks
To snow-capped Sandia.
Overhead, stars sparkle just beyond our reach
Beckoning for attention.
Below, city lights crowd the mesa on which we stand,
Making Albuquerque seem so alive we could watch it grow.
On the mesa,
We sit,
Breathing in life,
Feeling it tickle our souls.
Cary picks at guitar strings
And sings a song he wrote.
His music tells of a love lived, love lost,
And the pain felt deep inside.
He sees the storm clouds,
Still feels the rain.
The storm has passed,
And another might follow,
But-right now-
I see the stars,
And I can't keep from reaching for them.
Soon, the early morning sun
Pushes the clouds away.
There's life in the sunshine,
There's also life in the rain.
And, sometimes it's easy to see love,
But, there's also love in the pain,
Denying love means living empty.
I can't turn away from the stars
Just because I've felt the rain.
Deserted Shack
Blind windows miss the blue sky,
Don't see tender blossoms growing
Between splintered planks.
Don't feel the sun glow
On its worn-out face.
Silent doorway is empty
Except for blades of grass
That can't avoid
Being pushed across the threshold
By uncaring breezes.
Once-strong walls shudder
For lack of purpose.
The lives they sheltered
No longer visit,
No longer care.
The Marker
A dusty, white wooden cross
marks where you rest.
I read the dates, and my mind
races to a place
without roads, without fields,
only prairie.
A place where buffalo belong,
their huge frames covered
with shaggy, dark fur,
near-black manes hiding their humps.
It is a time when they belonged
more than we,
when The People lived with the land
before you conquered the land.
I wonder:
Were there days when
You stood, clenching
dirt-covered, scarred fists,
with the moisture from your eyes
as out-of-place in this arid land
as you?
Did you wonder why,
no matter what you did,
no matter how hard you tried,
no matter how hard you worked,
You just couldn't get by?
And were there days when
the sun felt warm, not hot,
on your face, and you
stopped to wipe the sweat from
your brow,
And it just felt good to live?
How many times did you feel
your lover's touch as her
gentle hand brushed your cheek
and her soft flesh became yours.
Mom says you died in a train robbery,
but, as I look at the white, dusty splinters
of the wooden cross, I wonder
How you lived.
Were you just like me?
Son's Pride
We sit
Side-by-side
In kicked-back recliners,
His old, patched, broken-in,
Mine merely scuffed.
Silence.
I stare at new novel,
Wonder what he's thinking.
Notice heavy, black work-boots
Still worn, have holes.
Want to discuss Emerson,
Realize Emerson would mean no more
Than others who have tried to guide his life,
Or judge it.
He's happy with himself.
So am I.
Push myself out of chair,
Grab coat.
"See ya later, Dad."
"Sure, Son."
No other title worn with more pride.
It Seems to Me: Leon Jack, This One's for You
Dad says he's glad I haven't mentioned his name in my column because he wants to avoid "guilt by association," but the example he has set for us is worth sharing. As my best friend put it, "People deserve to hear about amazing people and know there is a different way to face life."
I can't think of a better way to describe him. Dad is truly an amazing man who has found a different way to face life. He has met life's challenges head on and with a sense of humor. Mom often tells me, "I don't know how he does it, but he doesn't let anything keep him down, and he just keeps on going."
I've learned a lot from Dad. He has always taught more by example than with words, and one of the first things I learned from him was to never let others set the standard for me to live by. He taught me to choose the path that is most fulfilling rather than the one that pays the most. While others sought material things, Dad always valued a different type of treasure.
Too many times, when we are forced to choose between our families and our careers, we will make the practical choice of our careers. Often we tell ourselves this is a temporary decision, but when we constantly choose our careers first, our priorities are set.
(Continues...)
Excerpted from "The Spirit of the Horse" and Other Works by PHIL RAY JACK Copyright © 2013 by PHIL RAY JACK. Excerpted by permission of Abbott Press. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.
Table of Contents
Contents
Introduction....................xvIt Seems to Me: Coming Home....................1
Soar High....................6
It Seems to Me: Attitude Plus Effort....................7
Another Day....................9
Storm on the Horizon....................12
Deserted Shack....................15
The Marker....................17
Son's Pride....................20
It Seems to Me: Leon Jack, This One's for You....................21
It Seems to Me: This One's for You, Mom....................24
It Seems to Me: The Secret....................27
Security....................30
Fall from Grace....................31
It Seems to Me: Trust....................32
Eating Fry-Bread with Paula Gunn Allan....................36
Love Is Only a Feeling....................38
Dragon of Despair....................40
It Seems to Me: Grief....................42
Two Short Poems....................44
Simply Life....................45
It Seems to Me: Picking Priorities....................46
Another Quarter Begins....................48
It Seems to Me: Why I (Attempt to) Teach....................49
Casual Conversation....................51
Best Friend....................53
Poppa's Sonnet....................54
To My Best Friend....................55
It Seems to Me: An Act of Courage....................57
Spirit of the Horse....................59
Diane's Eyes....................61
Beautiful Cowgirl....................62
The Promise....................64