Embedded Files
The toasts were the highlight for me and, in talking to the guests, many others as well. Those who have known me for years, decades even, recognize some of the themes spoken. Let's just say "once an engineer, always an engineer." I'm still the same me. But listening to the toasts, I was blown away at how my closest colleagues have seen the "Falling Upward" journey unfold through my life.
First, Sean Curtis presents a framework for all the toasts:
Kirk Davis offers a toast here, calling me "Professor X".
Tim Svoboda starts off calling me "scary" because I'm so analytical.
Ralph Moller moved to Indiana a year ago. Ralph's authenticity and vulnerability inspired me to throw this birthday party. He has this to say:
Sean Curtis, more than any other brother, helped me walk through the wilderness I faced 5 years ago. Here's his toast.
Spoken Word by Dr. Jeff Garner (in honor of Steve)
I encourage you to watch the video before reading the transcription below. The inflections and passion carry a lot of weight.
On the chin, that's where the 50 years landed. Square on the jaw,
A south paw,
not what I saw,
when my green-behind the ears planned it.
Disillusion floating like a butterfly Mohammed Ali circling like a bee Rope-a-dope
Float-a-hope
Find-ways-to-cope Lock-the-arms, stop the blows Reality’s spinning.
Im-seeing stars
The jab of disappointment The fights not going my way Setbacks
on my heels Reeling
Dealing with the Raging Bull
Tyson’s Tribal Face-Tattoo Summons to Rocky’s eye of the tiger Sonny Listons Big Bear fists
Sugar Ray Leonard’s lighting speed And the Joe Lewis underdog tenacity
An image to bear. A tradition to share. Rules to uphold. A life to behold... (God, Im getting old),
A career path, you do the math.
A family legacy to make.
Don't bend don't break. Honor and Shake.
5 year. 10 year. 20 year goals. white towels surrendering all the places I felt so bold. Stay strong in the ring, ignore the inner thing. Fake-it-til-you-make-it Pretend its fine and good. Don’t show any weakness Deny the inner cry,
create an outer hood
The First Half’s in the books. A Pentecost of hooks.
50 nifty dimes in the gut. Caput
Fist-a-cuffs.
Feigning jabbing dancing with the blows Wild swings flailing in unlanded shadows. Missing opportunities to claim the prize again. Halfway over.
Halfway done.
Halfway to hell
or heaven
On the chin, that's where the 50 years landed. Square on the jaw,
A south paw,
not what I saw,
when my green-behind the ears planned it.
Falling toward the matt The ten count to commence
It’s evident who I am now, Unveiled in my weakness Fallen halo, broken open
No place to hide on the canvas
But This. Too. Is Not.
what I expected
Im not falling down,
but UP
Stumbling into my glorious defect
A serendipitous surprise, RESURRECT Felix Culpa. Fortunate Fall
I was finally becoming my greatest when I was crucified to all
A Father above me,
leveraged the fall
to pull me
Higher, broader, wider
in harmonious reality.
What comes out of this struggle and fight The second half of life
A compassion and brokenness
A fragrant joyfulness
A letting go
Of image, face, approval and impressions. Of demanding God be something other than the way he has disguised himself in my life. The serene disciple digress
My poverty’s a success
What comes out of getting knocked out in a
Jacob,
Jabbock,
Peniel Wrestling match.
Eye-ball-to-eye-ball , face to face,
glimpse into the soul of God and me.
And on the chin I can see the next
50 are about me being me.
Square on the jaw I can feel
God inside the part of me that’s empty A south paw, not what I saw
So much better than I could ever have imagined it to be.
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