Staying for Dessert

 

“We’re meant to lose the people we love.  How else would we know how important they are to us?” ~ Mrs. Maple in The Curious Case of Benjamin Button
 

The observant reader of The Modern Vitruvian, and I would like to think there is no other kind, will note that this is the second consecutive column with a quote from The Curious Case of Benjamin Button.  I can assure you that I have already ejected that DVD from the player and will give it a rest for the foreseeable future. 

If the truth be told, I would have preferred never to have had the occasion to use the above epigraph, but the month of January has seen the passing of three men for whom Masonry was a way of life, and without whom, Masonry will not be the same.  The deaths of Illustrious Brothers Kielman and Faub of this Valley, and Bill Davenport, an active instructor and Past Master in my District have left me unsettled. 

I knew each of these men – my Brothers – to an extent, but not very deeply.  I had the chance to spend time with each of them within the last few weeks of their lives, and I keep wondering what I would have done differently had I known that our last conversation would be our final conversation.

One thing I know about myself is that I am obsessive about time.   I am constantly looking at my watch.  Even though I am trying to heed my own advice and take more time to appreciate The Space Between, I must fight to put the clock and the next task out of mind.    So had I been told that this was the last conversation, would I have given in when they insisted that I stay for dessert?  Talked a little longer even though I knew that I’d be exhausted the following morning?   Would I have asked them something deep?  What was their proudest moment?  Their biggest regret?  Would I have been brave enough to answer those questions if they had asked me?

Dessert?  It’s already 10:30.  If I don’t leave now, it’ll be after midnight before I get to bed.  I have an early day tomorrow.  Maybe I’ll just go home tonight and do dessert when the meeting is shorter or my schedule is lighter.

As I think about these Brothers and the countless others that I have known and loved and who are no longer with me, their faces appear to me just as real as if they were here in the room, and I long for one last conversation. 

To some I would say, “You know, we didn’t always agree on how to do things, but I always respected you.  The ways you challenged me made me grow as a man and a Mason.” 

I might thank others for their advice (solicited or otherwise) on how to play a role, deliver a line more effectively or gesture in a way that brings a character to life on the Scottish Rite stage.

To another, I might get comfortable in my chair and ask, “How was your granddaughter’s recital,” knowing fully that his eyes would begin to sparkle as he recounted her every graceful move in the five-year old’s ballet class as only a proud grandfather could.

Perhaps the conversation I would most like to have is with my grandfather.  “Pap,” I would start, “We never had the chance to sit in Lodge together, but I can never thank you enough for being the kind of man that made me want to join an organization you belonged to.  I hope I have made you proud.”

Those are conversations I can never have.  But surely there must be some lesson to be learned.  That is the mission of The Modern Vitruvian after all.

The next time you are in Lodge, look around at the faces that are there with you.  Is there a Brother with whom you should make amends?  Are you carrying around baggage from an old disagreement?  Did someone in the room change your life in a profound way?  Is he the reason you are a Mason?  Did he give you words of encouragement when you were about to quit?  I suspect that there is a face that comes to mind for each of those scenarios.

Now ask yourself what you would do if tonight’s conversation was the last you would have with that Brother.  Would you sit next to him instead of across the Lodge?  Would you try to heal the wound?  Would you thank him.  Tell him that he is important to you?  Would you look him in the eye and tell him that your life is better because he is in it?

Remember that “See you tomorrow” isn’t a legally binding contract, so do not leave unsaid those words that could heal, empower, uplift, encourage or comfort.  Mrs. Maple doesn’t have to be right.  We don’t need to lose the people we love to know how important they are.  Just imagine your Lodge – your life – without them in it and let them know they matter. 

And when the meeting is over, put away your watch. . .

And stay for dessert.

 

Note: I know that death and regret can be intensely personal.  I sat at this computer, eyes full of tears, as I wrote this story.  If you feel called, please share your stories: memories of your friends and loved ones who made a difference for you, conversations you should have had or the ones you did have and are thankful that you did.  If you would prefer that they remain anonymous, send them to me at pittmason@yahoo.com with that request and I will publish them without your personal information.

 

The Space Between

“The space between the tears we cry is the laughter keeps us coming back for more.” – Dave Matthews

If you are anything like me, and most of you probably are, keeping your calendar straight can be one of the most daunting tasks you face.  Most of us are or have been involved in more than one Masonic body at any given time.  Each of those organizations has practices, meetings, social events and duties all of which take up space on the calendar.  On top of that, there is your work, family events and social activities outside of Masonry (I hear they exist).  Add to that the parties, shopping, concerts and travel required by the upcoming holiday season and your calendar may run out of space.

I recently found myself on the way home from a Masonic meeting I had thoroughly enjoyed.  The presentation was thought-provoking, the ensuing conversation was spirited and the fellowship that followed were precisely the reasons I became a Mason.  I left there uplifted, challenged and proud to be a member of this great Fraternity.

Instead of enjoying that, instead of living in that rare moment where what I wanted and what I got were the same thing, I got in the car and cued up my iPhone to play the lines I was rehearsing for another event.   The Lodge building was still visible in my rearview mirror, and I had already moved on to the next event in the calendar.

In today’s world, we are too quick to focus on what’s next.  What do we have to do?  What do we have to buy?  Where do we have to be?  Our Masonic meetings are an all-too-brief respite from the chaos of the world without, but they are only part of the picture.  We need to use what we learn there to focus on The Space Between.

This is the perfect place to give you the OED definition of space, but I won't.  My reasons are twofold.  First, there are 168 separate and distinct definitions listed and that is just if you use it as a noun.  Listing all of those would take up entirely too much . . . space.  Secondly, doing that seems too scholarly, which flies in the face of the mission of this column.

Why is The Space Between important?  I’m glad you asked.

Firstofallthespacebetweenwordsmakessentencesmucheasiertounderstand.  Also, space in the form of punctuation such as commas and dashes – let’s not forget dashes – helps to add emphasis or change the meaning of a sentence.  Night, the space between our days, is where we rest and refresh ourselves in preparation for tackling the next events on the calendar.

Why then do we not enjoy the space between our meetings as a time to really practice being a Freemason?  Instead, we rush home or hurry to the next appointment not really cognizant of the fact that an opportunity may have slipped by.  If you left the meeting early and didn’t stay for refreshment and fellowship, you may have missed the chance to form or strengthen a bond with someone.  If you do what I did and immediately dive into the next task that lay before you, you would – as I did – squander an opportunity for personal growth and transformation by not allowing what you learned to have an adequate time to take root.

The Space Between is where you live your life.  It’s where you grow; where you can impact others.  It’s where the magic happens.  It’s the “laughter [that] keeps us coming back for more.”  What you learn in Lodge is what prepares you to make the most of life outside of it.

A Modern Vitruvian needs to use Masonry’s lessons to govern how he acts.  The working tools of the Blue Lodge teach you how to use your time, talents, and treasure, and the moral lessons of the Scottish Rite Degrees assist you in making the right decisions in your interactions with others.

Between now and the next issue of The Rite News, I ask you to pay close attention to what you do and how you act in The Space Between.  Don’t miss opportunities to show the world why Masonry matters.  Don’t drive off cavalierly and forget what you learned moments before. I encourage you to share your stories on what you’ve done or plan to do with The Space Between on the blog at themodernvitruvian.blogspot.com.  If you have a smart phone, you may scan the QR code to the right and it will take you there.

One of my favorite movie quotations comes from The Curious Case of Benjamin Button,  where Benjamin states, “Our lives are defined by opportunities, even the ones we miss.”  Every second of The Space Between brings with it the opportunity to implement the beautiful lessons that Masonry has taught you.  Interactions with others, moments of reflection and self-evaluation, and alone-time with your God all offer chances to make the most of the life we are given.  Strive never to miss the opportunities you get in The Space Between.  You will be a better man and Mason for it.

It is my hope that the space between the top of the page and this sentence has given you something to inspire, challenge and make you better fit to face the world as a Modern Vitruvian.

Read This Column!

Welcome to The Modern Vitruvian, a new regular column in The Valley of Pittsburgh’s The Rite News as well as the blog you are currently reading.  Since you read that sentence, I can only assume that the title hasn’t scared you away.  That’s a good thing.

Because you have done me the honor of reading this far, I will once, and once only, do the following: give a blessedly brief biography (avoiding all awkward alliteration) of this column’s namesake, explain why I chose to attach his name to it, and detail what I hope to bring you, my beloved Scottish Rite Brothers in each and every issue of this fine award-winning publication (and at random times in between issues via the blog, but I’ll explain that later).

Marcus Vitruvius Pollio was born c. 80-70BCE and was…

You know what?  None of that matters.  The basic idea was this, Marcus Vitruvius Pollio, or Vitruvius as his close friends no doubt called him, was a very early author of books on architecture.  In one of them, he described the geometric proportions of the ideal man.  Later another guy, Leonardo da Vinci – I’m certain his friends called him Lenny – drew the very famous, albeit immodest, picture of the ideal man seen below.  That work is known, quite creatively, as Vitruvian Man.  That’s it.  I promised brief and I hope I delivered.

Next up: Why did I decide to call this column “The Modern Vitruvian?”  That’s simple. 

Freemasonry has so many scholarly publications which reference our history (or histories since we really have no definitive, singular answer to that question), our ritual, and the beautiful symbols of the Craft as well as biographies of our famous and infamous Brethren.   What we have too little of (in my opinion anyhow), are pieces which challenge us as 21^st Century (Modern) Masons to seek things in our daily lives that have hidden Masonic lessons in them and ways to apply our teachings to them to become more ideal (Vitruvian) men.  In short, I’m looking to find the Masonic in the mundane.

That is the premise and mission – at least for now – of “The Modern Vitruvian.”  How can you help?  I’m glad you asked.  This column will also appear as a blog at www.themodernvitruvian.blogspot.com.  If you do not know what a blog is, that’s okay, I’ll explain.  Basically, a blog – short for web log – is like a journal.  This column will be posted on the internet and will be interactive.  If what I write here reminds you of a similar story, moves you to share or has you so worked up because I’ve missed the point entirely, you may go to the blog and post your own thoughts for the world to read.  My hope is that we see some wonderful discussions there.  Time will tell.  When posting, remember the old adage “It’s okay to be disagreeable, just don’t disagree.”  Do I have that backward?

If you are too shy to write on the blog, you may always write me privately to share thoughts, musings or ideas for upcoming columns.

If you like what you have read so far, please consider subscribing and/or (preferrably and) and sharing with your friends. The more readers we have, the better the discussions will be.  As a bonus for those who do subscribe, there will be occasional columns exclusive to the blog as subjects and stories present themselves. 

Marcel Proust said “The real voyage of discovery consists not in seeking new landscapes but in having new eyes.”  I look forward to journeying through today’s landscape with you my Brother’s seeing with new eyes – those of a Modern Vitruvian.

Join the discussion now. . .

P.J. Roup, 32° is Junior Warden of The Gourgas Lodge of Perfection, Valley of Pittsburgh.  In addition to The Modern Vitruvian, he owns The Point Within the Circle (www.district54.blogspot.com).   He can be reached at pittmason@yahoo.com.