The carrying tides, riding the waves...

Ladies and Gentlemen, friends and family,

I thank you dearly from the very depths of my being for coming back after my prolonged and unexcused absence for the last bit of time. I must inform you, the time that I am informing you of has been quite fantastic. And in using such a word as fantastic, I must further inform you that this by no means all has been bliss; rather, the time I speak of has been an “up and down” ride like none before. Some high highs, and some low lows, let me tell you. I now have a clearer glimpse of the meaning behind Dickens’ fantastic opening words of A Tale of Two Cities.

Now, I could give you a narrative of every significant even that has happened in the last week or so, but let’s be honest, that’s not enough. It can become a bit boring and tedious to read chronological events, and I’m not that good of a writer by which I could enthrall you with all the funny little details that only the most observant of us notice. No, allow me to take a different approach.

I am going to write, and when things pop in my head, I will include them, even if it has nothing to do with whatever else I happen to be talking about. Let’s see… Cross Country. It has been fantastic, let me tell you. I am connecting with these kids in very unique ways, and I feel they can see that I once went through the pain and pleasure that is distance running. I have still been running with them—5 miles yesterday afternoon—, and yesterday, we began our day with Yoga at 6AM. I struck up a conversation with the instructor, told her I did a few sessions at CorePower in California, and after this and that, it turns out she went to USD. Crazy. Small world indeed… turns out CorePower is where she trained and learned to instruct. So I did Yoga with a group of 30 high school students in the wrestling room. It was a great session, full of concentration, meditation, and high school kids farting. A quick simulation:

Instructor: “Now… move deeper into the stretch… feeling your breath… feeling the pull of your right quad… feeling connected…”

Fart. Toot. Laughter. Yeah, she spoke meditatively and calmly, like all yoga instructors, and as we were to “let go” and concentrate, moving into the stretch, kids let them rip. I cracked up every time. Even the instructor couldn’t hold in her laughter. An hour of yoga, and we moved on. I ran with them that afternoon, and as I was running with a group of them early on, Jake, a junior, says, “So Coach Lawlor, what did you think of that Yoga instructor??” I kind of laugh and say she’s nice. “Yeahhh I SAW you talking to her, don’t think I wasn’t watching.” I laugh again and tell him he saw me bustin’ out the charm. “Oooh I didn’t realize I was seeing ‘the charm.’” They all busted my balls, then they ate my dust as I ran off and destroyed them.

So yes, Cross Country has been great. I’m getting to know most of the kids on the team, and most are very accepting. Took them a while to learn my name. One kid was talking to another coach and called me “The Leprechaun.” It was early on, and I was a little upset. “Oh man… they don’t know my name… I am so sad, waahhh.” Then I realized this is a goofy little high school kid with stringy long reddish hair that poofs out, so next practice, I started calling him Garfunkel. He asked if he could still call me Leprechaun, and I said, “… you can call me COACH Leprechaun.” So that’s what we got. The guys are doing great though. There are some studs on the team, some not-so-studs, and a lot of good guys. Solid coaches too, including the infamous Doc-TOR, a Cuban man who enjoys making very sexual jokes, going so far as to fake pedophilia (or so we think…). Oh well, he’s just a Commie. We have our first 5K time trial on Saturday, can’t wait. It’s a joy seeing these kids get better and push further, and it’s been beyond rewarding to run alongside them through this perilous, glorious journey.

Now, how bout class. Yes, my two sections of Freshman Theology. Last you heard from me, I was a maniacal teacher staring at them from the edges of sanity, asking for them to try and push me over the edge, letting Mr. Beethoven speak for me. I regret to inform you that I have not done this every day since. I have actually begun teaching with words. But the stares have not ceased. I still give them “the look” throughout class. So what do we do in class? We do a lot of journaling time. Here are their instructions: Put the pen to the page, and do not stop writing until I tell you the time is up. I am teaching them about themselves. How to listen to themselves. To become self-aware. And all the while, I play great music to get the thoughts flowing. I played some Arcade Fire last week (“Wake Up”), and a bunch of kids asked about it. They responded great. That phenomenal band can cross gaps of universal proportions with their mesmerizing sound. They can connect the cosmos. They can bring hope out of he who has lost it all. They can make babies jump for joy. They can cure the lame. They ROCK. Speaking of them, I had a dream last night that I was at their concert. I tried desperately to meet Win Butler, their main man, and could not quite get there. Maybe he is an Untouchable, just like Capone. But he’s greater, for sure. Anyways, we journal, and we discuss. I have two classes, and they are as different as could be. My first class loves discussions. I have had to end every class with at least 4 hands in the air. Everyone wants to throw in their opinion, and they have great opinions. I have been extremely impressed. We have had long and deep discussions over seeing God in all things, but yesterday, the talk topped them all. Yesterday, we somehow got on the topic of life after death and the ceaseless possibilities. This was perfect time for the inner philosophy nerd to come out full force in me. So naturally, I began to talk about Nietzsche’s eternal recurrence. “So guys, consider this. Let’s say you die, and when you die, you are told that you will live the exact life you have lived over and over again for all of eternity, an infinite amount of times. You can change no decisions, you simply must live it over and over.” The response was immediate. “Maaaan, that would SUCK!” “There’s no way that could happen!” But the smiles were everywhere at this new world-shaking idea. One kid, Austin, a born philosopher, raised his hand. I called on him, brought the classes attention to him, and he began to attempt to communicate his sheer confusion. “For that to happen… you would have to have… an INFINITE amount of alternate realities, all happening at the same time…” I look at him, nod my head, and say “Uh huh…” He continues “and a loop in time… and wormholes connecting them…” I continue nodding as I smile. Eventually he runs out of idea, looks at me, and I say “Yup, you’d need all that,” not faltering one bit in maintaining its possibility. The class laughs. I say “Sure, it’s UNLIKELY, but it’s logically possible isn’t it? We can conceive of it.” A kid brings up Groundhog Day, I tell him maybe we’ll watch some clips. So I continue on and inform them this is one of the fundamental ideas of the philosophy of Friedrich Nietzsche, one of the most influential philosophers of all time. “So he poses the question: ‘if this happens, will you be very happy, or will you be really pissed off?!” They laugh again. “He says that you should be HAPPY, you should be ecstatic. Because you should embrace every single moment and live it to the very fullest! You should love life and never sit there being bored.” I gave a mock “I’m bored” impression that they enjoyed. We continued contemplating the endless questions and endless possibilities of death, and we closed with A.J.’s comment, “Well… I heard one person say that… maybe we’re ALREADY dead, and we’re just waiting for what happens next. We’re in limbo.” Everyone “oooohed” and “aaaahed,” and I said, “On that uplifting note, class is dismissed! Thank you for your thoughts gentlemen, very well done!” One of the best conversations I’ve had, and it was with FRESHMEN in high school! I was more than impressed with these kids, they have fantastic ideas. And then I went to my next class…

Night and day. Girl and boy. John Stamos and Gary Busey. As far away as possible from each other, stark opposites. I cannot begin to describe the difference between these two classes. The other class is filled with smart-asses and kids with ADD off the wazoo. Some smart kids, without a doubt, but kids who are far less willing to work toward their potential. I get into class, knowing beyond the point of doubt that the conversation will not reach the incredible heights of the one before. And I realize I have no choice but to improvise, for the entire class before was nothing but improvisation… they just make it easier on me. So how can I improvise with a bunch of goons? I start the class with a video on “Finding God In All Things,” just as I did with the other class. And I ask if there are any reactions or ideas. Nothing. Naturally. So I begin to talk. I go deeply on why it is so important, why we must change our perspective. I attempt to make a connection, cause I can tell they have tuned it out, thinking “the last thing I want to hear is a talk about God. Blah blah. Man I like Xbox.” So I ask them to raise their hands if they are Catholic. Most hands go up. I ask them to raise their hands if every once in a while, they don’t look forward to going to church. The same hands go up. Then I ask if more often than not they dread Church. All the same hands. Then I ask if anyone is super excited every Sunday when they get to go. No hands go up. They laugh, and so do I. I tell them I know what they mean. Sure, it can be boring, it can be repetitive, it can be annoying. So why the hell do we do it? One kid gives a great response. “Because we are giving to God when we do it. It’s not all about us.” I completely agree. So I ask a little further. “Well do you think God wants you to be there and be bored, thinking ‘man I don’t want to be here!’? Do you think he wants us to hate the experience of going just because we have to?” They say that they do not think so. “So then what can we do? How can we give ourselves to God?” Silence, until Jack raises his hand. “Well, it takes a responsibility, we have to do something.” “Exactly!!” I scream. “We have to DO SOMETHING! We have to make something of our lives and not just sit back on our asses!” One kid alludes back to a homily given by Fr. Gibbons at their opening mass and recalls “chillaxin’ is not our natural state.” Fr. Gibbons demonstrated this with a bean bag chair, showing that “there is time for chillaxin’, but that is not Rockhurst time.” So kids start to talk about bean bag chairs. One kid says “and a bean bag chair will mess up your back.” I agree with him. “Yes, sleeping on a bean bag chair will give you a bad back.” Jonathan speaks up. “But wait, isn’t it good for you back? Cause it, like, forms to your back and stuff?” I begin to attempt to explain why it is bad for your back, find myself at a loss of words, and say “Look, the point is NOT whether or not it is good for your back to sleep on a bean bag chair. The point is NOT TO BE LAZY!!” They all laugh. A bunch of hands go up. I call on a group. “But can’t a bean bag chair be good for you?” “Bean bag chairs are just so comfortable.” “They are better than stools cause they take less energy,” Chris says. I respond immediately. “See, this is EXACTLY WHAT I’M TALKING ABOUT! You’re talking about the difference of energy between getting up from a STOOL or BEAN BAG CHAIR! That is like NOTHING! I mean, think, how much energy is that really?” Christ responds. “It’s like… an hour…” I throw my hands into the air. “AN HOUR?! AN HOUR IS NOT A PROPER MEANS TO MEASURE ENERGY!!!” They laugh once more. “Look, DROP THE BEAN BAG CHAIR! You guys are trying to JUSTIFY laziness, and it is not something that should be justified. It should be done away with!” So I move on, a few kids make comments, and I see Chris has his hand up again. I know it’s gonna be something ridiculous. But I call on him. “Well, a bean bag chair can be good—“ I cut him off. “Listen, no more on the bean bag chair, ok?” “No, it’s something good. A bean bag chair can help us feel better.” So I say, “Ok, your point brings up 2 things. Number one—you’re being a smartass. I see right through you. Number 2—you’re trying to justify laziness. Now isn’t there a problem with this??!!” So I go on a 10 minute rant about laziness. “We cannot be faithful to God if we are lazy, because if we are, we aren’t doing Sh** with our lives! We have to get off our asses and do something! Just like Jack said! We have to become something and use our potential! Otherwise, we are saying ‘screw you God, I don’t want what you gave me.’” I rant and rant, and I see some nodding their heads. Others have their heads down. I tell them I am lazy at times too. It can be very tempting. But it is about going past that temptation and really doing something, becoming who you are with vigor in your heart. I finish, drop my hands, and calmly say, “Now, does anyone have any questions or comments on that impassioned lecture?” Blank stares. Until a kid raises his hand. “Umm… well, let’s say after football practice, when I come home and I’m really tired. Am I allowed to like sit on the couch and relax a bit?” I can’t help but laugh. This kid actually takes every word in my ridiculous rant on laziness as absolute truth. He thinks I have every answer and I am actually giving universal rules of the Catholic faith. I explain to him that what I said is simply my perspective, my opinion on the matter. Of course you can go home and relax. I know that you get tired. I can’t make you do something. But it is important to realize that you have potential, and it is important to find that right medium. That line where you are not too lazy to the point where you do nothing, and you are not doing too much to the point where you are overstraining yourself. He nods and takes in what I say. Then Andre, the hilarious little black kid who was the victim on the first day (the kid who couldn’t stop laughing), raises his hand. “Um, Mr. Lawlor? I heard that the Catholic Church says that if you are gay you’re going to hell. Is that true?” I almost bust up laughing. Where the hell did that question come to this kid’s head? Literally nothing to do with anything we have just talked about. But as it is an important question, and as I didn’t care at this point, I gave an answer. I told him that it is an extremely tricky issue in the Catholic church and divides a lot of people, but I went on to tell him that many people do believe that. On such an issue, I had to put in my two cents, so I told him I personally think it is a ridiculous belief that cannot accept reality, but that doesn’t make that necessarily true. Hands go up. “Well, I think that God made us all unique, so we should accept them for that.” A great idea! Kids begin to offer great ideas on the topic, sharing a lot of their beliefs, and I am extremely impressed with their open-mindedness. I take it a few places but end it before getting in too far, explaining to them that we will talk about it later in the semester. 15 minutes left in class. I have them journal. And I put on Cat Stevens to chill out. These kids are nuts. They are a challenge, but I gotta admit a fun one. Announcements come on at the end of the day, and I notice halfway through, kids start giving “ooohs” and “aaaahss” at random times, as if what is being said matters to them. This is strange, I think. So I look around. They are all looking at the projection on the wall. The projection of the screen saver. And what is on it? Two Rockhurst emblems, bouncing around. They “ooohed” every time the two came close to hitting each other. At this point, I can’t help it. I smile, and I watch with them. Who cares about these announcements. They see that I’m smiling, so their sighs begin to get greater. They are getting more excited by the second. Some close calls, they are on the edge of their seats. And finally, the two connect. The room erupts. Everyone throws his hand into the air and screams “Yaaaaa!!!!” like something just happened with immense significance. And I laugh. I can’t help it, their energy is contagious. They never got out of control… just a fun time. I let them go, and they left, off into a new afternoon of adventure and fun. I have them in 5 minutes, so I’m gonna finish this post. Wish me luck.

What can I say, it’s been a ride. You just read about one of my classes from each section. I have one of each every day. Today in my first one we talked about the endless intricacies and complexities of the universe and how uniqueness can be traced down to the smallest cells, the smallest atoms. God in all things. See it.