I grew up in the deep South. All my life I’ve been surrounded by “good Christian folk”. Some of this rubs off, so of course I consider myself pretty well acquainted with the basics tenets of Christianity. It’s widely known the Ten Commandments are a foundational element of southern spirituality. It occurs to me upon reflection that the people in my life must have seen an eleventh commandment in the list. Namely, “Pity the imbecile among you that he may live”.

My life has been a repeating pattern of impulse and grace. An idea, an urge and I commit! The slightest breeze of whimsy sends me into irrevocable action. God bless the kind souls who’ve loved me enough to clean up afterwards.

At Scout camp one summer someone suggested I sign up for the mile swim. “Don’t worry”, they said “you’ll build up to it over the course of the week”. Never mind that I barely passed the swim test, it sounded adventurous. In a demonstration of solidarity my Scoutmaster signed up with me.

We swam laps before breakfast , increasing the distance each day. If you’ve never had the pleasure of putting on wet swim trunks at 6:00 a.m., add it to your bucket list immediately! Then scratch through it with a permanent marker and burn the list. These days, school children are shown grim videos in an effort to prevent such self-destructive behavior.

On the morning of the big swim, a dozen or so of us jumped off the pier and began long, slow laps to a buoy in the middle of the lake. After an hour or so, I was the only swimmer still in the lake. When I finally finished, my scoutmaster, who’d had time to change and make it to the chowhall for breakfast, greeted me at the bank with a large bottle of ice-cold Gatorade. To this day that bottle of Gatorade makes the top five list of best things to cross my lips.

When I was hired to work at another camp the following summer, I signed up for lifeguard training. After all, what could be harder than swimming a mile? Holding a ten pound diving brick above your head while treading water continuously for sixty seconds, apparently. But my fellow camp staff were supportive. They encouraged me to keep attending the class and learn the parts I could. I tried again the next summer and made it.

Then of course there was the time I moved across country to work my way into a year-round job at camp. Yes, yes the camp director herself was a part-time employee but surely when they saw what a great worker I could be they would hire me! (Listening to Rush Limbaugh had bolstered my sense of economic self-determinism.) Once again the people around me reached out with patient kindness. This time protecting me from death by starvation and loneliness. Ten years later I would direct the camp.

New acquaintances of mine should read this as a sort of disclaimer. Proceed with caution.

To old friends, may this serve as an overdue note of appreciation. Your kindness keeps my stories from ending tragically. Thank you for your friendship. You are dear to me.

To all of you, this is an invitation.

A familiar breeze is blowing.

Who’s up for an adventure?

Photo courtesy of Dallas75

http://www.flickr.com/photos/23680544@N07/ / CC BY-NC 2.0

Help me out gang.  What exactly did we accomplish with this week’s Facebook stunt? (If you missed it, check out this Washington Post article.)  Yes, a few people are talking about “awareness” but what have we actually done to affect outcomes?

The issue matters.  According to the American Cancer Society, almost 1 in 8 women will develop invasive breast cancer in their lifetime.  The chance that breast cancer will be responsible for a woman’s death is about 1 in 35.  The good news is that the rates of incidence and mortality have declined.  Taking action makes a difference.  So how do we motivate ourselves to action?

Perhaps we’d have greater effectiveness if we talked about people and not just their underwear.  At the time of this post there are 293 females on my Facebook friend list.  As I look through the list of names I am reminded of real people who are at risk.

• At the Starbucks in my town there are 15 female barristas. 1 in 8.
• In my workplace there are 14 female team members.  1 in 8.
• In my close family I have 1 wife, 2 daughters, 1 mother, 1 mother-in-law, 1 sister, 2 sister-in-laws and 3 nieces.  1 in 8.

Thinking about these people makes me want to do something.  Thinking about the possibility of protecting these people has me searching Guidestar to learn about organizations  like Susan G. Komen for the Cure and The Breast Cancer Research Foundation and The American Cancer Society.

So here’s a status update for you…35.  If we are unable to further decrease the rate of breast cancer incidence, 12% of the women I’m connected to on Facebook will experience breast cancer firsthand.  That’s 35 women I know and care about.

I’m motivated.

How about you, who’s in your friend list?