Inside the ADHD World

PHOTO BY PETER BURDON, Unsplash

Here are some thoughts about having ADHD and how I have related to it over the years.

It is a real condition, but I am not convinced it is an illness. It may just be different than the norm.

There are some positive aspects of ADHD. There is a downside too, of course, and the biggest one I believe is being misunderstood.

It is real, and we do see the world differently than you do. That does not make it bad, and I still don’t like calling it a disorder. It is just that our world is dominated by people who do not share the ADHD trait. Maybe it’s everyone else that is messed up and the ADHD people are the ones who are normal. As they say, the winners of the war get to write the history. I’m not ready to totally concede anything on this.

People think I am a space cadet at times, or that I have trouble paying attention. They think I am easily distracted, and even worse things. The world is designed for non-ADHD people, and often we feel that we just don’t fit. We don’t fit really. I know some people want a black-and-white world, and I am living in a million shades of grey and am not even sure black and white exist. Do you see how this can be a problem? We don’t even have the same frame of reference for reality.

Trying to cope, not knowing what to call … whatever it was

Some strange things happened in school. I still remember in third grade, thinking my history book was so interesting that I stayed up all night reading it. My teacher didn’t believe me when I told her I had read the whole book and had no sleep, and that was why I was sleeping in her class.

I would take books home at times, and I would read the book cover to cover without stopping. I hated being interrupted in those times. But there were other times I would just lose interest and forget to study for a test, and bomb it totally.

The inconsistency I showed baffled teachers. I might get every question right on a test one week, and the next week, get hardly any right. It was not uncommon for my report card to have A’s and F’s in school. Teachers always wanted to know why, and I had no answers at that time.

A classic example was when we had to write an essay in class. I was good at this. I helped my two buddies get started, and I was nearly done. Next thing I know, everyone else was done and turning theirs in. I had stopped and never got going again. There were a few teachers here and there who “got” me and let me develop at my own speed and way of dealing with things. Most didn’t, and I developed a pretty bad attitude by the time I got to high school.

Some people “get it,” but most do not. I really value those that do, and I am fiercely loyal to them as friends. Even as an adult who takes medicine, I still have trouble finding people who “get me.”

People with perfectionism think I am crazy. I don’t think highly of them either. I sometimes think perfectionism is the antithesis to ADHD. We are like oil and water. Maybe like gasoline and water. Don’t light a match if we are in the same room.

Press enter or click to view image in full size

Unsplash photo

People with perfectionism think I am crazy. I don’t think highly of them either. Perfectionism is the antithesis to ADHD. We are like oil and water. Maybe like gasoline and water. Don’t light a match if we are in the same room.

It is who I am

I know it is hard to understand. No, I cannot just sit still. I need my phone because I need to fidget with something. Sorry, clicking my pen irritates you, but if I stop, I will soon be tapping on the table, and that will irritate you worse. I am paying attention as I look around the room, or at my phone, or at whatever is happening out the window.

I will tune you out if you keep going on and on about some trivial matter while I think about 10 ideas at once. I have tried to learn to pay attention, and I am a lot better than I used to be. It really isn’t personal. I still struggle with having to listen to someone about something when my 20 ideas are trying to get my attention.

On the other side, there is “hyperfocus.” It is another side of ADHD that most folks don't understand. If I get locked in on something, nothing can distract me. I was a reporter for many years and developed the ability to turn hyperfocus on and off at will. It was hard, and it does wear me out, but I can focus when I have to.

Discovering ADHD

I was well into my 30s before I realized I had ADHD. I was in counseling for depression. My counselor and the medical doctor agreed that I had the condition. Some tests can be done, but they are not reliable, and whether they are even accurate is still a question doctors are debating. It is like a lot of other mental issues. There are certain traits, and if you have them, then you likely have the condition.

Just for the record. There is a chart of 10 symptoms. I have eight of them. I have one of the other two at times in certain situations.

Battling depression

I battled depression for some years. I self-medicated with tobacco and sex. Alas, neither does enough eventually, and depression sets in. Depression and ADHD go hand in hand. They are first cousins, or they might even be brothers. The problem is, ADHD makes the world a harder place to live in. Things don’t work as they should. Things are harder than they are for other people. As a result, you can get depressed because people are always upset with you or hardly ever understand you.

Generally, if you treat one condition, you will treat the other. A mild antidepressant can be just as effective as an ADHD med, for example. It also takes time to figure out what the best treatment options are. Some doctors just prescribe the same medicine for everyone, and it may or may not work. I was fortunate to have a doctor who was willing to work with my counselor and me to find the right drugs and the right combination.

To medicate or not

The medications are a two-edged sword. They do curb your creativity somewhat as they take the edge off those things that can cause the depression that fuels our creativity. It is not that the medication curbs your creativity, but it does rob your creativity of its fuel — which is often depression.

I don’t have a severe case, so I take a fairly light dosage. It is not a big deal if I miss taking it a day or two here and there, but I can tell a difference after a couple of days. Without it, the distractions are much stronger, it is much harder to focus, and there is a general spaced-out feeling. I can get irritable then too.

When I was younger, I would have some pretty extreme mood swings. I might get angry and cuss you out, and you not really even know I was upset. Well, I wasn’t upset at you really. It had been building for a few days, and whatever it was you said or did just broke the dam open, so to speak.

I might get hyper-focused and work for days with minimal sleep and food, almost nonstop. I also might never be able to get interested.

Like a lot of other ADHD people, I also developed a reputation for not being dependable. That was well before I knew I had it. But I might just decide to head out of town for a week or so and not tell anyone. Irate bosses would fire me, and family would worry. I would come back home and not have any idea why people were upset. Did I forget to tell you I was going? You fired me for that??

There is also this thing of staying interested or getting bored. It is a two-edged sword in a sense. On one hand, I do lose interest very quickly. I rarely finish an article on Medium, even though many of them are great. But at the same time, I might get interested in it and read it 10 times, underline things and take notes. I might then get on Google and research it to death, and even write my own article — certainly not copied but at least inspired.

That is something that surprises me too at times; I never know when something will click.

But as I said earlier, I don’t have a severe case and most people around me don’t know I have it. You have to be careful who you tell, and you have to be careful about revealing this at work. I have developed some coping mechanisms and can hide it pretty well. But even then people think I am kind of spacey.

I do forget details, or I might remember details that don’t matter. I might leave one thing undone and do something else, for instance.

I could take stronger medication, but that would drown out my creativity too much and would have other negative side effects. I think I have a good balance there. I have enough medication to calm things down to a level where I can manage. That leaves me able to make use of the advantages of ADHD.

Riding out a Bad ADHD Day

Inside the ADHD Brain. Image from Unsplash

This story was written a few years ago but still feels just as relevant.

Yesterday was a Bad ADHD day.

Nothing was wrong, but nothing was right.

Even having a casual conversation felt difficult. It was like banging hard on an out-of-tune guitar, desperately trying to play a song I don’t really know — then wondering why the tune sounds so unfamiliar. No matter how hard I strummed, it just wouldn’t come together. Eventually I wanted to smash the guitar and walk away.

I had felt it building for a few days: that deep inner restlessness that makes your whole world feel slightly off. By yesterday it had turned into full-blown irritation, overreaction, and slow-boiling anger.

Nothing was actually wrong, yet everything bothered me. A trivial comment from my boss that normally wouldn’t register suddenly felt infuriating. A coworker’s joke — the kind we make all the time — landed like sandpaper.

I knew I was overreacting, but knowing it didn’t make the feelings go away. It only added another layer of frustration.

This is the internal world of a bad ADHD episode.

I used to get these frequently before medication. The pills help a lot, but every now and then the fog still breaks through hard. It’s more than just being scattered or forgetful. It’s being upset as though something major had happened — when in reality, nothing did.

Lying in bed that night, I couldn’t sleep. My mind kept searching for things to be angry about. I tried to find real incidents to ruminate over, but even the ones I came up with felt insignificant and boring. I was experiencing all the physical and emotional symptoms of being attacked — without any actual attacker.

I was angry, agitated, and restless, but the target kept shifting.

I came very close to quitting my job over something completely trivial. Thankfully, I paused long enough to question whether my reaction matched the situation. It didn’t. Not even close.

The next morning the fog had started to lift.

I showed up to work, and everything was normal. My boss was the same person. My coworkers were joking like always. No one had any clue about the internal storm I had been fighting the day before.

I’m glad I didn’t act on any of those impulses. I didn’t yell, I didn’t quit, and I didn’t unload on anyone.

There’s a difference between bottling things up in a harmful way and simply choosing not to dump your bullshit onto other people.

Sometimes the wisest move is to ride out the storm quietly.

Bad ADHD days like this are exhausting. They remind me how much energy it takes to manage a brain that can turn a completely ordinary day into an emotional battlefield. But they also pass. The clouds eventually roll away, and a new day begins.

One bad day survived. Tomorrow is another chance.

What is ADHD Hibernation, and what to do about it

PHOTO FROM UNSPLASH

The spiral into depression-like fog is hard to escape.

The last week or so has been perfect hiking weather. I’m retired, which means I can do anything I want. I love hiking — the trails, the quiet, the way it resets my mind.

So why have I been stuck inside playing video games I don’t even like?

This is classic ADHD hibernation — that heavy, ADHD-fueled mental fog that feels a lot like depression but has its own distinct pattern.

I know the difference intellectually. With regular depression, I have clearer strategies, but when the ADHD fog rolls in, motivation completely disappears.

Even the things I normally love feel overwhelming or pointless.

• Instead of getting outside, I hide in the house on my computer.

• Instead of eating well, I either skip meals or reach for junk.

• Instead of staying consistent with my medication, I drink way too much coffee trying to force alertness.

I knew these choices were making everything worse, but in the thick of the fog they felt like the only options available. Frustration builds quickly, and the cycle deepens.

The last couple of days have finally started to shift. The fog is slowly lifting. I forced myself to the gym — the very last thing I wanted to do — and it created a small crack in the pattern. Now I’m planning to get back out on the trails. This cycle is incredibly common for those of us with ADHD.

Two resources that have helped me understand and manage it better are:

• Coming Out of Hibernation: Discover the Right Strategies‍ ‍

• ADHD and Hibernation

I’m still learning how to shorten these hibernation periods. The key, I’ve found, is catching the fog early and forcing one small positive action even when every part of me resists — whether that’s a short walk, preparing a real meal, stepping outside for fresh air, or just putting on workout clothes.

These tiny wins help nudge the brain chemistry in the right direction and start thinning the mental fog. If you deal with ADHD hibernation too, please know you’re not lazy or failing.

This is a real neurological pattern many of us face. The fog is powerful, but it’s not permanent. One small action at a time really does add up. The hike is calling my name. I think I’ll finally answer it soon.

Where is the Center of North America?

Photo by James Jordan

North Dakota is not among most people’s favorite vacation spots. It is the least visited state in the contiguous 48 states in America, according to government statistics.

So why am I taking a week or so to explore this remote state? Because it is there? Maybe.

After a couple of weeks exploring the Dakotas, there will be only eight states left for me to visit.

Admittedly, it does not have much that would make people want to visit. There are only eight cities with over 10,000 people, and the biggest city is Fargo, at 137,000. There are a lot of tiny towns in remote areas. Most of the state is flat farmland. There are the badlands in the west that have some cool scenery.

One cool thing I found was the small town of Rugby, which claims to be the geographical center of the Americas — which includes Canada and Mexico.

In 1931, the town claimed the title and erected the marker pictured above to commemorate the fact. It was based on looking at a map.

Since then, there has been some debate on where the geographical center really is, but everyone agrees it is in North Dakota.

Some time after that, the owner of a bar in Robinson, N.D. decided it was the actual center. It’s about 100 miles southwest of Rugby. The bar owner admitted to having some help from “a few beers.” But they did manage to get the title trademarked, so they did legally own the title.

Even later on, a college professor took a crack at finding the center, using a fancy algorithm he had created. He also took into consideration the curvature of the Earth, which the other two did not. His calculations declared the center to be in a town called Center, also in North Dakota.

The bar in Robinson gave the title back to Rugby, and no one it seemed, really cared about the one in Center. All is right with the world, the geographical center is back in Rugby where it claims to be.

Rugby has 2,500 people, and the other two have 500 or fewer so Rugby may be the best place for the marker.

How Faith and Belief are Different

Unsplash photo

This could solve the works vs faith argument

Faith and belief are words we throw around so casually that they’ve become interchangeable. But they are not the same thing.

Belief is your opinion, and that’s all it is. I like this flavor more than that one. Faith is acting on your beliefs—or acting as if your belief is really true.

Most people “believe” exercise is good for you. Most people don’t actually do it, though.

First, you get the “belief” that exercise is a good thing that will benefit you. The next step is to learn about your body and what makes it healthy. Then you can exercise your “faith” in a way that will truly bear fruit.

According to national health statistics, only about 47 percent of the population gets the recommended amount of exercise—roughly 30 minutes a day, five days a week. And only about 30 percent get both aerobic and muscle-toning activity. A much higher percentage “believes” this is good for you. A much smaller percentage has faith in the benefits of exercise and follows through with the right kind of action.

But here’s the catch: you could walk around 30 minutes a day while smoking cigarettes, drinking soda pop, and eating Cheetos, then conclude that exercise didn’t do you much good. Belief is the starting point. Education keeps you from wasting your effort. Faith is what produces real fruit.

The same gap exists in matters of the spirit.

Plenty of people believe in God. They hold the opinion that He exists, that Scripture has wisdom in it, that prayer might help in a crisis. It’s a comfortable mental note, like believing kale is healthy or that climate change is real. It costs nothing and changes nothing.

Faith is different. Faith is lacing up your boots when the trail looks steep. It’s showing up for the relationship even when you don’t feel the spark. It’s choosing honesty over self-protection, generosity when it pinches, stillness when every instinct screams to scroll or fix or run. Faith is acting like the belief is true—long enough, consistently enough, that the reality of it begins to shape you.

This is why James could write that “faith without works is dead.” A belief that never moves your feet is just a flattering opinion about yourself. Real faith, like real exercise, leaves evidence behind.

And this faith is born and nourished in a particular way. As the apostle Paul wrote, “So faith comes from hearing, and hearing through the word of Christ” (Romans 10:17). It’s not primarily a matter of working up stronger feelings or collecting better arguments. It comes through repeated exposure to God’s Word—the message about Christ. That’s the education that keeps us from sabotaging our own faith with spiritual junk food.

I’ve felt the difference in my own life. There were long seasons when I believed all the right things about God. Then came the days I started acting like they were true—trusting when it didn’t make sense, forgiving when I wanted to keep score, stepping into discomfort because the still small voice said “this way.” That’s when belief stopped being an opinion and became a living path.

So the question isn’t really “Do you believe?” Most of us do, at least on some level. The sharper question is: Are you willing to listen to the Word, learn from it, and then live as though it’s true? That’s where belief becomes faith. And faith, practiced over time and fed by the Word, becomes the kind of knowing that no argument can shake and no circumstance can fully undo.

Who is Right: Calvinists or Armenians

Image created by AI

What you choose may say more about you than anything.

The two main theological systems of protestant Christianity have clashed for years, and we seem no closer to solving the issue now than 500 years ago.

The point of either one is to put the entirety of the gospel into perspective. They both try to make something very complex into something easy to understand, which has some value. Both have strengths and weaknesses.

Both try to explain the greatest mysteries of life.

What is the nature of God?

What is the nature of man?

What is the nature of the relationship between God and man?

Trying to break that into five short points is an oversimplification, to say the least.

I can see how both are justified Biblically. I could make a decent Biblical case for either one, or build a Biblical case to refute either one.

The problem, as I see it, is either one has to explain away some of the Bible. The same scripture that says “whoever will,” also says “God chose you.” The interesting thing to me is that Biblical writers recognized this and did not see a problem with saying both.

It is we who have a problem. Instead of letting the Bible say both, and believing that both are true — because that is what the Bible says — we try to make only one of them true.

This is why Calvinism and Arminianism exist, and why the debate rages. Both have good qualities but both have to ignore verses they don’t like.

There are “tensions” in the Bible, ideas that appear to oppose each other. They are a paradox. Some people don’t like paradoxes because it leaves uncertainty.

That is basically what Calvinism and Arminiasm do. God chose us, yet God says whosoever will. The options are to believe both are true because that is what God said-or pay more attention to one or the other.

My background

For some background: I was once pretty much a Calvinist. I didn’t believe in limited atonement because it is clear that Jesus died for the sins of the entire world. I would say that it is effective only for the believer. But if that is the case, why is it even necessary for people to accept the gift when it is already paid for and given?

I also struggled with irresistible grace. I was pretty good at resisting grace — regeneration — even as a believer, so it was hard to believe one could not refuse to be part of God’s family.

A lot of Christians mix and match, liking two or three of one or the other. That may be a good way to approach the two, or you can see both as having value, but see no need to align with one or the other.

The mystery

God is all-knowing, all-powerful, sovereign over everything that exists, or ever will exist. Logically, this means God knows the future, which causes one to struggle with free will. But somehow, in a way I cannot explain, God knowing the future is not the same thing as God ordaining or planning the future.

We still have choices even though God knows what those choices will be. If God is all-knowing and all-powerful, he has to know the future. Some Christians think God is at the same time we are and does not know the future, but that seems to go against the sovereign nature of an all-powerful God.

Calvinists paint God as an arbitrary ruler who orders the outcome, which is not fair. Armenians weaken God to make Him dependent on our choices.

Or to put it more positively.

Calvinists see God as all-knowing and all-powerful and develop the rest from there. Armenians focus on the human aspect of the relationship with God.

Does it matter?

The thing is, there is no reason to choose one or the other. Adopting either one can be an excuse not to think for yourself or to wrestle with deep theological questions yourself. It’s much easier to grab a list of points and then defend those points. You can find plenty of Bible to back up either one of those theological constructs. But you end up having to explain away other parts of the Bible.

The basic message of the Bible is simple, but trying to understand God is difficult. Our finite human minds can’t gasp the mind of God.

A better way

Instead of debating this issue, choosing one or the other, and defending that viewpoint, we should develop our theological system ourselves. It will take a very long time and a lot of work, and you may never complete the work, but that would be more fulfilling.

Calvinism emphasizes the role of God, while Armenians emphasize man’s role. Choosing one might reveal more about your priorities than God’s truth.

Theology is not something you find, put in a box, and then you are done. Your theology should be a part of you. It should develop as you continue on your spiritual journey.

Some people don’t like paradoxes, and I suppose I’m the odd one. I like the grey, the lack of certainty, embracing the mystery. The paradox between free will and God’s sovereignty is just one of those things that I cannot explain. Again, choosing one might reveal more about your priorities than God’s truth. I am OK with that.

Being a Journalist with ADHD

Photo by Vitaly Gariev on Unsplash‍ ‍

I went through three jobs my first year out of college

I had a rocky journalistic career with a lot of jobs over the years. I still write a lot for publications but as a freelancer. I went through three jobs in my first year out of school. In 30 years I had 17 jobs. Ten times it was my choice to leave, and seven was their choice.

ADHD makes one well-suited for a fast-paced, high-pressure environment that can change drastically minute by minute. That is how the ADHD mind is anyway. The chaos of a newsroom actually feels kind of natural to me. Everyone else is stressing out and I am feeling like I don’t have to fake it anymore and can relax.

However, Journalism attracts perfectionists, and I cannot work with a person like that. I make them crazy. They make me crazy. I will get fired or quit.

There are people who think I am a great journalist, and there are people who think I am awful. The trick was always to try to find one who had a boss that understood me or who was not saddled with perfectionism. I’ve never seen what I actually did make much difference. People either “get me” or they don’t.

People either “get me” or they don’t.

For most of my career, my ADHD had not been labeled, so I didn’t know what the problem was. I just knew I was different than most people, and would not fit in certain environments. Unfortunately, I ended up in those environments and lost several jobs over the years. Newspapers often have tyrants and egotistical people in charge, and it is very unstable work.

Three jobs in less than a year

In my first year out of school, in the early 1980s, I went through three jobs. It might have been 10 months. At the time it made me feel like a failure and didn’t do much for my self-esteem at all. But now that I look back, none of those train wrecks were my fault.

First one

The first one was just plain crazy. This was a small weekly paper in Tennessee in a small town. I knew the lady seemed pretty eccentric who hired me, but she owned the paper. I started work and got along fine with the editor, who I did not meet at the interview. I did not see her again for three weeks. She came into the office one day and fired me. Said get out. No explanation. No nothing. So that was less than a month.

I had a beer with the editor later, and he said he was sorry but there was nothing he could do. He said I had been doing a good job and wondered if he might get fired too.

I had been asking questions about some things going on at another small town nearby. I had pissed some people off with those questions. I don’t know if that had anything to do with it.

I started looking for another job. I found one in a month or so. This was before computers. There were trade journals and I used those. I also randomly mailed out resumes with letters of inquiry attached.

The second one

I got hired by a paper that came out three times a week. It was in a bigger town and was overall a better deal. The only negative there was that I did not have a lot to do. Giving an ADHD person a light workload is not a good idea. It was kind of strange. They seemed to want me to do more, and I was very much willing — even asking at times to do more — but no one would tell me what I should be doing.

I found out a lot of small papers have no training and very little if any, orientation. They show you a computer and expect you to start cranking out stories as though you had been there for months.

The assistant editor was one of those perfectionist types. He sent me to some event with vague directions and I never found the event. I tried calling him at home but he didn’t answer. The place was not where he said it was. It was a rural area, and the one person I did ask had no idea what I was talking about.

From then on I was irresponsible and could not be trusted. It was my fault that I did not find the place. He pointed this out almost every day.

“Gotta be careful where you send James. you know he has trouble finding things,” was something I heard often. I failed to see the humor.

He did manage to make the work pretty miserable for me. That is another characteristic of small newspapers. You get perfectionists who have a good case of OCD along with it, and they never forget your smallest mistake.

I started looking again though. The same MO. Sending out random resumes with cover letters. After a couple of months, I got yet another job. This was in a smaller town and was a family-owned paper.

Third one

The third one seemed pretty good. The editor was an “older” woman. Gray-haired and seemed pretty nice. The workload was good. They seemed to think I was a workhorse. I would do what they said, and then ask for more. By then I did realize I need a big workload to stay focused. They may have thought I was being noble, but I was really just trying to create the environment I needed.

An ADHD person does not need to get bored. At the time I didn’t know I had ADHD, but I did know that I worked better when I had a lot to do.

But this one ended as the first one did, with a curious firing for no reason.

After about the fifth month, the owner brought in a new reporter. A drop-dead gorgeous girl. She couldn’t write for crap, but that seemed to be OK. Well, I didn’t care. She was nice and we got along fine and she was very easy on the eyes.

About a month later, the owner came in one day and laid me off. He said I was not cut out for this business and had not done a good job. No one had said anything but good the previous six months. He did give me the needed paperwork to get unemployment. That was kind of odd, usually when you get fired the employer takes all legal means to keep you from getting unemployment money.

Not quite a year out of school and I felt I had bombed out on three jobs already. I felt bad to some degree, but I went back to stay with my parents and worked in fast-food joints, and kept looking. I was out of work for about six or seven months.

Every sad tale has to have a beautiful and mysterious woman involved in some way. Pixabay

Now the story gets interesting. Karma is a b&tch.

It was seven or eight years later, maybe even longer, that the third job finally made sense. I was fairly established as a sports writer and was doing well. Sports writing is the most hectic job there is at a newspaper, so it is perfect for the ADHD guy.

But I found myself on the market again. Not that uncommon in this business. I had an interview with a larger paper. It was one of those that had an actual news desk with three or four copy editors working on copy that reporters had turned in.

The person who interviewed me led me past that desk to his office. As I passed I noticed that old guy who had fired me at the third paper. He recognized me, nodded toward me, and went back to his work.

After the interview, I asked about that old guy, and the guy interviewing me spilled the beans.

That gorgeous “reporter” who couldn’t spell kat, that he had hired to replace me, was his mistress. Now this was major stupid because his wife very often came by the paper, two or three times a week, and would hang around. Anyway, his wife caught them, and she now owns the paper. He lost his paper, his house, and the girl. He was now working on a small paper at an entry-level job.

The job I was interviewing for was higher ranking than he would have been, but he would not have been directly under me. I don’t even remember if they offered me the job or not. Obviously, I didn’t go there. I just remember seeing him and enjoying his demise as it was told to me.‍ ‍

When “Prayer and Fasting” was banned from the Bible

Some critics of modern Bible versions point out where verses in the King James Version are “left out” or listed only as footnotes in more recent translations.

The story of a man who was a “lunatic” who was healed by Jesus is told in the three synoptic gospels. The disciples had been given power and authority to drive out demons but in this case, they had failed. Mark’s gospel uses the phrase “Prayer and Fasting,” but in Matthew it is not included in modern translations, though the King James Version of Matthew has it. So why do modern translations leave the phrase out of Matthew’s gospel?

Mentally ill people were thought to be demon-possessed in ancient times. Today we think we know better, but there probably are cases where the problem is more demonic than biological. Leaving that debate for another day, let’s consider why it is left out of the gospel of Matthew.

Jesus told them they had been unable to drive out the demon because of their lack of faith. In Mark’s gospel, he tells them this was a tougher case and needed prayer and fasting to bolster one’s faith, or in addition to faith.

The problem is, that this verse is not found in the oldest manuscripts of Matthew. Remember chapters and verses were not added until much later. The Gospel of Mark (9:29) tells the same story and includes the phrase “prayer and fasting,” in the oldest manuscripts.

It seems that at some point, scribes copied the verse from Mark and added it to Matthew’s gospel. Luke also tells the story (chapter 9) and does not include the phrase. It is not in any copies of Luke.

Based on the best and oldest manuscripts, it seems that only Mark included that phrase. It was added to Matthew later and was never in Luke. John does not tell the story.

What it means

What shall we say then? Is this a contradiction? Was there a conspiracy among modern translators to de-emphasize prayer and fasting? No, probably not. I would pull out Occam’s Razor (the simplest explanation is best) to answer the question.

Most scholars believe Mark was the first gospel written, and that Matthew and Luke may have used Mark as a source. Mark used the phrase and the other two did not.

God did not direct each word, or dictate the message. God did, however, inspire the writers to write what they did. Mark included the phrase and the other two did not.

It was added later to Matthew. It was never added to Luke. That is why it is not in modern translations of Matthew. Simple as that.

How Christianity Created Women’s Liberation

Women from around 1900. Photo from Unsplash

Women preachers are controversial now, and they were in the late 1800s and early 1900s when they shook the nation. They held revival services, preached the gospel, and changed the course of American Christianity and the culture itself.

They challenged the idea that a woman’s place is at home under the authority of her husband. They started the feminist movement and helped make Evangelical Christianity popular. Their influence on our culture cannot be overstated.

Evangelical Christianity and the feminist movement may seem at odds now, but it was Christian women preachers who started the feminist movement.

They led the suffrage movement to get the vote and many other social issues. They were significant in the rise of the Progressive Era, 1890–1917, and were involved in social activism, political reform, and battling corruption.

They managed to get a constitutional amendment to ban alcohol in America. That turned out to be a bad idea, but it shows just how powerful they were and what they were able to do.

The prohibition movement was closely related to women’s rights and suffrage. At the time a woman married to an abusive alcoholic man had no legal recourse to escape her situation.

The first right women needed was to be able to escape an abusive relationship. The right to vote was one strategy, and the other was to rid the nation of alcohol, which they felt caused most of the problems.

They preached the gospel and were part of the early Charismatic or Pentecostal movement. These women, armed with a bible and a loud voice, challenged gender norms and paved the way for future efforts.

They were denounced in many churches. The argument against women preachers then was much the same as it is now. There are some writings of St. Paul that talk about not allowing women to speak in church or have authority over men. There was also the idea that women were not capable of being pastors.

Most of them focused on the message of Salvation and offered the gospel message to give hope and peace. Suffrage and temperance were always part of the sermons. Supernatural healings were also often part of services.

Here are some of the women who did not accept “their place” and preached anyway. They changed America at the turn of the century.

Carry Nation, (1846–1911) was born in Kentucky and lived most of her life in Kansas. She was famous for using a hatchet to demolish barrooms.

Right or wrong, she felt that saloons were illegal and she should be able to destroy them without being charged with a crime. She went so far as to enter the governor’s house in Topeka, Kansas, and destroyed his alcohol stash. She made money from a lecture tour and sold hatchets as souvenirs. She was arrested many times and was physically assaulted many times.

The temperance movement itself did not embrace her because of her radical ideas and the destruction of property, but she was still significant in the movement. She also preached against tobacco, foreign foods, fraternal groups, short skirts, and any sort of suggestive or pornographic art.

Aimee Semple McPherson (1890–1944) was one of the first people to hold tent revivals, and she was more of a traditional evangelist.

She is credited with founding the Foursquare Gospel Church and was a key part of the development of the charismatic movement. She was one of the first to use radio and printed material to get her message out and had a flamboyant style of preaching that was unusual at the time.

During the 1920s she was more famous than Billy Sunday and was one of the best-known protestant evangelists in America. She conducted public faith healing services, and many claimed to have been healed of various illnesses by her.

She was denounced often by the church and male religious leaders. There were rumors and charges that she had extra-marital affairs and so forth. She did tear down barriers between the secular and religious, speaking in bars and other secular situations. She was also heavily involved in charity work and used her ministry to help those in need.

Maria Woodworth-Etter (1844–1924) was also a Pentecostal preacher and held large revival services in stadiums. She conducted faith healings and many claimed to be healed through her ministry. She saw evangelism and healing going together naturally, and both were major parts of her public services.

Early in her life, she was not allowed to preach in the Disciples of Christ church, but she found a platform in a local Quaker church. She began preaching about 1890, and people were known to fall on the floor while having religious experiences during her sermons. She was dismissed by the Church of God in 1904 and played a key role in the founding of the Assemblies of God Churches.

While she was not as flamboyant as some were, her services paved the way for much of what goes on in Pentecostal services today.

Katharine Bushnell (1855–1946) focused on women's rights and worked against prostitution and the sexual exploitation of women. She was a medical doctor, writer, bible scholar, and social activist. She is regarded as one of the pioneers in the feminist movement.

She was one of the first preachers to advocate the idea that women were equal to men, and she used the Bible to make her case. She was involved in the Women's Christian Temperance Movement in the early 1900s. She sought to abolish prostitution. In her efforts for sexual equality, she challenged men to raise their standards, instead of having women lower theirs. She helped get a law passed that made it a felony to abduct women and force them into prostitution, which she showed was happening even though it was denied by authorities.

While many used the bible to oppress women, she used the Bible to liberate women. Her book, God’s Word to Women, is regarded as a groundbreaking study about how the Bible treats women. She challenged the idea that women were inferior to men, that they should not preach, head coverings and polygamy. She was a highly educated Bible scholar and could read Biblical Greek and Hebrew texts.

Phoebe Palmer (1807–1874) was a bit before the golden age, but she had a big impact on the Christian religion of her day.

She was one of the founders of the Holiness movement, which is not the same thing as the Charismatic movement, though the two are related. The Holiness movement had the idea that by faith a person could depend on God to make them live above sin through sanctification. They advocated a second experience after salvation, and they were able to attain a level of holiness by the power of God.

She was not a social reformer, but she did help start the Holiness movement. Her book “The Way of Holiness” is one of the foundational books of the movement. Palmer was more concerned with the development of the spiritual life of believers but she did also advocate for women’s rights.

Hannah Whitall Smith (1832–1911) was active at the same time Palmer was preaching and they were similar. She also believed in Holness and the Higher Life movement, which taught that a person could live above sin if they were empowered by the Holy Spirit. She was also involved in women's suffrage and the temperance movement, but the holiness movement was her main focus.

Her book, The Christian’s Secret to a Happy Life, was written in 1875 and is popular among Christian mystics and the Holiness churches to this day. Her book The God of All Comfort is similar but explains the theology in more detail. She preached across America, England, New Zealand, and Australia.

In 1874 she helped start the Women’s Christian Temperance Union, which became one of the largest women's organizations in America at the time.

Mary Baker Eddy (1821–1910) is regarded as a heretic by many mainline Christians, but she was popular and active during this era.

Her work emphasized spiritual healing and prayer. She was more a teacher than a preacher and was one of the founders of the Christian Science Church. She was the founder of the Christian Science Monitor publication. She was also influenced by Spiritualism and Hinduism, which led her to some unorthodox Christian teaching.

Anna Howard Shaw (1847–1919) was one of the first women to be ordained in the Methodist Church.

She was a medical doctor, and very active in the women’s suffrage movement. She attended Boston University School of Theology and was the only woman student there. She worked with Susan B. Anthony on women’s issues. Anthony was a women’s rights activist, and a Quaker, but was never an evangelist or preacher.

Ida B. Robinson (1891–1946) started the Mount Sinai Holy Church and was the first African American woman to start a Christian denomination.

She was part of the Pentecostal movement that was heavily involved with healing and spiritual gifts. She started her church as a place where women preachers would be welcome. She died in 1946, and at that time there were 84 churches in her denomination, and 125 of the 160 ordained ministers were women.

Carrie Judd Montgomery (1858–1946) was an evangelist known for preaching the power of faith and prayer for healing, both mentally and physically.

She started the International Order of the Hephzibah faith. She claimed to have been healed by faith as a child, and that led her to ministry. She was a prolific writer of books and poetry. She wrote some of the first books that were written on faith healing.

Mary Lee Cagle (1864–1955) was a preacher in West Texas and is credited with starting the Nazarene church.

Two smaller organizations met in Pilot Point, Texas in 1904, and combined to form the Nazarene Church. Not all women preachers were nationally famous. Many were more regional, like Cagle. She preached the Holiness doctrine and helped form 28 churches. Her first husband was also an evangelist.

There were many other women like these around 1900, who would not be quiet. They spoke out for women's rights, and they did change the nation. There were a lot more preachers traveling around giving speeches, and some secular women giving speeches about women’s rights.

This list does not include Susan B. Anthony. She was active at this time and a key part of the early women’s movement. She was a Quaker, but never considered herself an evangelist or preacher.

My Brother’s Collections Filled a House

A collection of clocks shows how time passes on regardless of anything else. Photo by James Jordan

I’m alone in my brother’s big house on a lake, sorting his estate.

The sports memorabilia around the TV in the den reminds me that I won’t get to talk with him about our favorite sports team anymore.

Looking at his favorite chair and remembering him sitting there, turning a two-minute story into an hour-long seminar with footnotes. He had the talent to make it interesting.

Then there are the several collections that even this big house couldn’t hold. And now I am the one entrusted to dispose of it all.

Brothers but different

We were brothers, but very different. He was 10 years older than me and had a much more disciplined upbringing. Our father died when I was a year old. I was a child of a single mom and had minimal discipline or direction growing up.

We were very different politically, but we were brothers first, and neither of us ever forgot that.

He was a solid success story, showing that hard work and persistence pay off.

It also shows the meaninglessness of life. All he worked for, all he had, will be given to others who did not work for it. Some see that as a dark thought, but I see it as just the nature of how life works.

An unwanted job fell to me

The job of deciding what happens to his estate falls on me. A technicality — not enough witnesses signed — rendered his will invalid, and as next of kin, it’s up to me.

I wanted to follow the will as written. Family members balked, wanting various things. Some flashes of greed as well. Even so, I want to be generous with everyone. It’s not a job I wanted, but it is a last act of care for him.

An entitled niece called and announced she is coming with a truck to get “what I want.” I wanted to slap back, but didn’t. She might have sounded greedy, but I knew it was from a point of need. These things would improve her family’s lives.

A collecting obsession

My brother and his wife became serious collectors of antiques and art.

They were a perfect match. He, with the long drawn-out stories, and her quick quips and humorous sarcasm, made every visit memorable. She was a dental hygienist and told me I only needed to floss the teeth I wanted to keep.

I was never sure what inspired their obsession with collecting. I never knew which one of them pushed the other. But I did see the obsession grow steadily.

They had booths in antique malls and sold things on eBay. It was not about making money, though; it was a justification for obsessing over auctions, estate sales, and flea markets. It funded their collecting, and the pursuit of the next great find was always the point.

The game of haggling

My brother loved to haggle; no matter what the price was, he would try to get it cheaper.

He would lean over the table, closer to the seller, point out a flaw, and offer half the asking price. It was a game, not about the money. He always started at half the asking price.

It wasn’t all about winning, though. One time, I saw him tell a woman, “You should not be selling that here, it’s worth a lot of money.” But more often than not, he was trying to get whatever it was as cheaply as possible.

A collection of collections

They had a lot of collections. There was Native American art and pottery, antique jewelry, Ducks Unlimited wildlife prints, antique glassware, and handmade quilts to name a few. As I worked through the clutter, I made more discoveries like glass marbles, Civil War era cannonballs, and enough guns to outfit a small militia.

I was with them almost 40 years ago when they moved into this house. It was big and empty then. I saw it gradually fill up as they became serious collectors of many things.

At some point, it overwhelmed them.

The house became a museum, and then a crowded museum.

Near the end, it was hard to walk through. Chairs became heavily laden, and there was no place to sit.

The end of collecting

My brother’s wife passed away several months ago, and he deteriorated rapidly after her.

I was with him during his last three weeks, and the end was near. I grieved more then than after his death.

His passion for treasure hunting never faded. He was talking about upcoming auctions the day before he died.

One could criticize his obsession with collecting. But I say it was his money, and it made him happy.

It was the pursuit that he loved, and he enjoyed having all those collections.

Now he is gone. His collections, as well as his money, will go to others who didn’t earn it. He enjoyed those things while he was here. He doesn’t care now.

The lesson

But the lesson to me is clear. Enjoy your life now, and the things you value now. Someday you will be gone, and your treasures will be sold at bargain prices.

He had the hope of a better life after this one ends, and I do as well. Even so, the things we value down here won’t mean anything up there.

Sorting through my brother’s things taught me to enjoy life now, because our treasures won’t stay with us. I don’t see that as dark — it’s just the rhythm of life. What do you value while it’s yours?”

You’re a New Christian … Now What?

Photo from Unsplash

Are you a “new” Christian, or looking seriously into this Jesus thing? It can be overwhelming — too many cooks in the kitchen, and every one of them is certain they are right.

One bad habit we Christians have is fighting over the details. My first piece of advice is not to sweat the details. You can fight over those things with the rest of us later, once you get settled and know your way around.

Here is the thing. Belief, or faith, in the resurrection of Jesus is what makes you a Christian.

Everything else is commentary.

But that is where it gets interesting and complicated.

It can seem like the Wild West with all the chaos. Anyone can indeed start a whole denomination, but there’s no need to get into that fracas just yet.

Which church to attend?

Which translation of the Bible is best?

How much money to give to the church?

What kind of music to listen to?

Pray standing, seated, on your knees?

What color should the carpet in the foyer be?

The list could be endless. These are all things that matter, but that isn’t where your focus should be.

God has invited you into a relationship. That is the most important thing. Despite what some may say, that looks a little different for every believer.

It’s like learning to drive a car. You need to figure out how to turn the car on and make it go first. And you have people wanting to tell you which make and model to drive, or whether gas or electric engines are better. They might even want to argue over which color car to drive, or whether it’s cool to have a truck or not.

Those things matter, but you need to learn how to keep it on the road first.

It’s the same with your spiritual life

People may mean well, but they want you to get into their variety of Christianity, and they may judge you for not doing so. That’s just noise. Don’t listen to anyone who tells you that you are doing something the wrong way.

For instance, I don’t like to mark in my Bible or underline verses. Most people do, and I have my reasons. It’s respect for the text and wanting it to be fresh every time I see it. But that is my journey. No one should judge me for that, and I don’t care if you want to underline and color-code every word. I’m not going to start a no-marking denomination. But new churches have been started over less.

Those who have started churches and denominations think their flavor is best, and that they have bottled the secret sauce to the cool kids cloud in the heavenlies. The truth is, no one has perfect theology.

The relationship is the thing

Your personal relationship with Christ Jesus is the most important thing. I’d say it’s the only thing that ultimately matters.

In one of his letters — Philippians — the Apostle Paul listed his impressive credentials. Outwardly, he was the best of the best. But then he said that was garbage compared to knowing Jesus.

I would say the same.

I have been a Christian for 50-plus years. I have a master’s degree in New Testament studies. I have studied original languages and have translated a fair amount of the New Testament. That’s all good stuff, but it has not made me more spiritual. It has not made me love people who don’t deserve it.

What has then?

Here is what you need to focus on

That personal walk with Jesus helps me do that, at least when I can get out of the way and let the Spirit of God do its work inside of me. We all struggle. Even knowing this, I fail more often than I succeed.

That’s another point. No one is perfect, and you won’t be the first one to be perfect. God is not sitting up there with a checklist to make sure you did everything right, or believed everything right.

God has also not handed out checklists to other people so they can check up on you. We have the Bible as our guide, and we also have the Holy Spirit that whispers to us and changes us from the inside.

What to do instead

Instead of getting involved in debates, focus on your personal relationship with God. This is spiritual. Supernatural even.

Be patient. It’s ok to listen to people and consider what they say, but understand they are just pilgrims too, and still figuring it out themselves.

Pray a lot. Do things that make you feel more spiritual — whatever that may be. It’s a new thing, so explore your new reality with patience.

Find some other believers who are not judgmental about everything. If they hand you a list of stuff, find some other people.

It is good to read your bible daily. At first, just read a few verses in the New Testament — the Gospel of John is a great place to start. Meditate on that, listen to what the Spirit is telling you.

Go to some different churches — and again, watch out for legalism. I’ve found church is more about the people anyway.

It’s a great journey, but it's a long journey and there are lots of sights to see and things to experience along the way. Don’t feel like you have to have the answers or do everything just right.

It is good to know about Jesus; it’s better to know Jesus.

Magic Sauce on the Inca Trail

Seeing Machu Picchu from this angle, in the afternoon sun made it all worthwhile

Nothing really prepares you for the Andes Mountains, where flat is still uphill

I worked hard getting ready for my trip to Peru. I was as prepared as any human could reasonably be.

For months, I walked four or five miles a day, hiking all kinds of terrain with two gallons of water in my backpack — more weight than I’d carry on any trail in Peru. I started my anti-altitude pills three days before landing in Cusco. I stayed in the city at 11,000 feet for four full days before attempting any serious hiking. I drank coca tea and chewed coca leaves like it was my full-time religion.

I really thought I was ready for the Inca Trail — the famous 26-mile, four-day trek that ends at Machu Picchu. It’s considered one of the world’s great hikes… and also one of the hardest for a reason.

The Andes Mountains smiled — the way a mother smiles at her toddler who thinks he is helping mamma out in the kitchen. I could almost hear the spirits of the Incas sighing, “Hold my coca tea.”

Because the Andes don’t care how hard you prepared or how good of shape you think you’re in.

They took one look at me, paused for half a second… and then absolutely lost it laughing.

They laughed so hard they stole my breath on day one. They laughed so hard my balance went completely offline, and I started wobbling like a drunk toddler on the Inca Trail. They laughed so hard that even when I was gasping and stumbling, my guide felt the need to crack jokes just to keep me calm.

After one especially graceful near-miss on a narrow section, he grinned and said, “Careful, man — if you fall, you’re gonna reach the bottom of the Sacred Valley faster than anyone else!”

I couldn’t even argue. The mountains had made their point.

Press enter or click to view image in full size

The steps seemed endless along the trail. Photos by James Jordan

I’m in good condition for a 69-year-old guy. Most of the people in our group were young, strong veteran trekkers who made it look easy. They were cool about it and never made me feel left behind. The Andes, however, were not as gracious. The Spanish may have conquered the Inca Empire, but even they played by the rules the mountains made.

Nothing truly prepares you for this kind of hiking. The mountains are steep beyond anything you can imagine. The air is so thin that you’re breathing in the same volume but getting almost no oxygen. It feels exactly like breathing through a straw. My guide kept reminding me to take slow, deep breaths instead of the short, panicked ones my body wanted.

I thought my legs were strong. Back in Kansas, I could walk ten miles with short breaks. I often did four miles in an hour without a break. But Dorothy was right — I wasn’t in Kansas anymore.

Still, I marveled at everything. The trail is paved with stones that have been there for over 500 years — massive staircases carved into the mountainside. I kept picturing Inca warriors running these same paths in simple sandals or barefoot, carrying fresh fish from the coast to Cusco, while I struggled in my $400 high-tech boots.

Every climb seemed endless. You’d grind out a hundred stone steps, turn a corner, and find another hundred waiting. The Peruvians even have a joking term for the rare gentler sections: “Inca flat” — meaning “still uphill, just not quite as evil as everything else.”

The downhills were almost worse — treacherous for my shaky balance and brutal on the knees.

I was really grateful for my guide. This trip would have been much tougher alone. His gentle reminders to breathe slowly, his little jokes about me falling off the mountain — they kept me grounded and smiling through the struggle.

Press enter or click to view image in full size

Another view of Machu Picchu. Photos by James Jordan

And then there was his supply of “magic sauce.”

That’s what he called it. When I was leaning hard on my trekking poles, gasping, he came alongside me with a grin. “Time for some magic sauce.”

He pulled out a small plastic bottle, rubbed the liquid between his hands, and held them up to his face, demonstrating how to use it.

I didn’t ask any questions. I was desperate and would have done anything for some relief.

It was a powerful mix of eucalyptus, muña, and other herbs. My first inhale made me cough violently, but then… relief. My chest loosened, my head cleared, and I could actually breathe again.

About a mile later, I asked for another dose. He gave it with a knowing smile.

The magic sauce was indeed magic. It opened my airways like a cool mountain breeze and let me flow back into the trail.

It was about then that we reached the Sun Gate. From there, it was mostly downhill, and the combination of the magic sauce and the thrill of knowing we were so close gave me new energy. When I rounded the last corner and finally saw Machu Picchu spread out below me, the exhaustion vanished.

I was awestruck. Gobsmacked. A wave of pure wonder washed over me.

I had not conquered the Andes. No one does. I had surrendered to them long ago. And in return, the mountains granted me passage.

That was more than enough.

Mysterious South American Mutts

This dog was king of the street in Cusco. All photos by james jordan

What makes them so much different than our dogs?

I was sitting with our guide and a few fellow travelers in Lima, sipping cold beers after a long day on the trail. It seemed like an innocent question to me.

“So… who do all these dogs actually belong to?”

Our guide looked at me like I’d asked why water is wet. He shrugged.

“Some of them have owners… maybe?”

Then he told us about his neighbor’s dog — a scruffy, medium-sized mutt with one floppy ear. Every so often, this dog shows up at his door, scratching and whining. “I let him in and give him something to eat,” he said, completely matter-of-fact.

I joked, “So the dog is basically choosing where he wants to eat that night, just like we do?”

The guide grinned and replied, “Yeah… probably,” as if that should have been obvious too.

To South Americans, the whole situation was so normal that it was almost impossible for them to explain. They genuinely struggled to understand why I was even asking the question. It was like trying to explain air to a fish.

That one casual exchange clicked everything into place for me.

A Different Kind of Dog

I noticed it on my very first day in Buenos Aires. I stepped out of the hotel and immediately saw them — confident, streetwise dogs of every shape and size. Some were sleek and well-groomed, trotting beside their owners with perfect heel position and no leash. Others looked like classic mutts: wiry coats, battle-scarred ears, moving through the city like they had important business to attend to.

But even with dogs everywhere, not a single one seemed to notice me or anyone else.

Back home in Kansas, if a loose dog walks toward me, I feel that little spike of anxiety — Friendly? Sketchy? About to jump? In Buenos Aires, the dogs barely registered my existence. They walked around me, past me, or right beside me as though I were just another moving piece of the urban landscape. No sniffing, no tail wag, no drama. Just calm indifference.

Some dogs were clearly on their own, scavenging scraps near outdoor cafés or napping in patches of shade. Others wore collars but still wandered freely. And then there were the magic ones — dogs that walked perfectly at their person’s side with no leash, no invisible fence, nothing. I actually wondered if they had some secret high-tech collar. Turns out, no. Many porteños raise incredibly well-mannered dogs.

The street intelligence was next-level. I watched dogs walk up to a corner, pause, look both ways, and cross when it was clear. One afternoon, I saw a dog casually join a group of strangers waiting at a light. When the group stepped off the curb, so did he — using random people as his personal crossing guards. It was impressive… and a little humbling.

This is even more impressive when you realize many drivers see rules of the road as mere suggestions — not requirements. It can be tough for a human to navigate the streets.

The Wild Side in Patagonia

In Patagonia, the dogs felt a bit wilder. In El Calafate, I saw a pack of five dogs explode into chaos, chasing a female in heat through the streets. It was the only time I heard a lot of barking. Even in full frenzy mode, they still dodged cars like professionals. One moment raw instinct, the next moment street-smart calm. The female seemed to have made her choice, and the other dogs dispersed.

There were also the pregnant ones — big-bellied females strolling around like it was no big deal. I saw very few puppies, though. Nature takes care of population control the hard way here.

Peru’s Fashionable Dogs

Peru had its own flavor. Many dogs wore clothes — bright little sweaters and jackets to protect them from the cold Andean nights. You’d see a tough-looking street dog rocking a red coat like it was high fashion. One afternoon, while our group stood chatting in the blazing sun, a medium-sized brown mutt casually walked into the middle of our circle, flopped down in our shade, and let out a deep, satisfied sigh. He stayed for ten minutes like we were his personal umbrella, then wandered off without a backward glance.

The Middle Ground

These dogs live in a fascinating middle ground. They’re not pampered American pets who need constant attention and emotional support. But they’re also not completely wild. They’re street-smart, self-sufficient, and surprisingly comfortable sharing the world with humans — on their own terms.

In the U.S., we pour enormous love and money into our dogs. We treat them like family members. In South America, many dogs have more freedom and fewer expectations. They decide which human’s house to visit for dinner. They use people for shade. They cross busy streets like seasoned pros. They live their lives with a kind of quiet independence that I started to envy after a while.

There are downsides, of course: overpopulation, parasites, shorter lifespans. But watching a dog confidently choose his dinner plans for the night, or casually join strangers for shade, made me smile.

By the end of the trip, I had grown fond of them. Not because they loved me back — they mostly didn’t care — but because they seemed so at peace with their place in the world. They weren’t waiting for someone to complete them. They were just living.

I finally understood what our guide meant. Some dogs may have owners, but many have a much less defined role. They belong to themselves more and have some friends who happen to be humans.

Screw it … Do it anyway

Llamas graze peacefully with Machu Picchu in the background. My battle with depression ended here at the end of the Inca Trail.

Getting ready for the Inca Trail at age 69 was my key to keeping depression under control

I have a sign on my desk that says “Do it Anyway.”

It has become my motto and battle cry since retirement, and it has worked very well.

I have struggled with depression for years, and maybe even more in retirement. It’s not the debilitating kind. Most people around me don’t even know about the struggle. Even so, it often takes a lot of effort to get up in the morning or off the couch in the afternoon.

Having said that, there’s nothing I hate more than platitude nonsense people throw at you. Easy answers that show nothing more than their ignorance.

You know the drill:

Think positive thoughts

Find a hobby

Pray harder, or more

Quit being lazy

Take this pill

Get exercise.

Any of those things can help, but none is the magic cure-all people think.

I’m not going to add to the list, but here is what happened to me when I decided to do it anyway, no matter how bad I felt.

A little more than a year ago, I decided to get serious about a bucket list trip to South America. I started out planning a hiking trip to Patagonia and ended up adding a hike up the Inca Trail in Peru.

I was going to have to do a lot of preparation. I needed to be in good physical condition. I am in good shape compared to a lot of 69-year-old men, but this was going to require much more than that.

The clouds rolled back just in time to catch the evening sun on Machu Picchu

I started preparing in earnest. I went from a leisurely stroll of about two miles almost every day to about five miles a day without a day off. I worked on walking faster and started walking with a backpack of 20–30 pounds.

There are not many hills in Kansas, so I went to the local fitness center and set the treadmill on the steepest setting I could find. I got some side-eyes when I walked on the steep treadmill with a backpack of weights strapped to my back. I shrugged that off and turned the speed up.

I hiked on rough terrain when I could find it. I made two weekend trips to the Ozark Mountains in Arkansas, which offered a nice challenge.

Depression did rear its head now and then. There were days when the last thing I wanted to do was walk in cold wind with a weighted backpack on. Hell, there were days I didn’t want to even get out of bed.

But one day, something occurred to me. I am going to feel like crap today, whether I go or not. If I stay in bed, I’m not going to feel better, and if I go, I’m not going to feel worse.

So I said, screw it, do it anyway. Might as well feel bad at the gym.

It worked. There were days when I went to the gym, or on a local trail, almost crying, I felt so bad. Even so, I realized I would be feeling the same way if I were at home suffering in silence. So do it anyway, I thought.

There were also days that I felt better once I got outside. I kept going on days it didn’t, too, because … why the hell not? Not doing something isn’t going to help either.

A curmudgeon doesn’t need hope, just odds.

The thought of going to South America, and knowing I needed to be prepared, was a great incentive. But so was simply saying, do it anyway.

I did struggle a lot with depression in November and December. The return of cold weather always sends me into a tailspin that can get really dark in the middle of winter. But a strange thing happened.

I was working hard. Pushing myself relentlessly. Walking in cold wind would be good practice for Patagonia, I told myself. As I did, I noticed I felt good in the morning, which was something I didn’t even remember was possible.

By the time January rolled around, I felt like a different person. Usually, that time of year, I’m doubling up on anti-depressants, and just getting out of bed is a victory. But this time I actually had energy all day long. I was almost starting to get sociable.

By February, I was moving four or five hours a day, often with a backpack. I also started weight training — I was at the gym on the treadmill anyway.

Also in February, I realized I was not taking my pills anymore. It was not intentional, but days went by, and not taking them didn’t make much of a difference.

I went to see my doctor for a physical before my trip started, and I mentioned not taking my antidepressants lately. He shrugged and said it was fine if I didn’t feel like I needed them.

You could argue that I felt better because I had this amazing trip coming up, and that is partly right. That had a lot to do with it. But the extreme workouts were what put me over the edge. I could feel the difference when I took a day or two off. When I had even two days of not working out, I could see those dark clouds forming on the edges of my world.

By the time I was flying to Buenos Aires, I was in as good physical condition as anyone could be at my age.

The hiking was great. Even with my improved conditioning, I still went to my limits on the long hikes. The Andes mountains in Peru kicked my butt hard. I did every precaution in existence and still struggled with altitude.

I got through it, though, just out of stubbornness if nothing else.

When I got home, the depression did not return, as it often does after a big event like this. I kept working out just as hard when I got home, and I don’t see much of those clouds of darkness anymore.

This is what worked for me. There are lots of things that “can” work to get depression under control, or off your back entirely. I’m not going to offer this as a discovery that will change your world as it did mine.

This is what worked for me. Many angles and possibilities come with depression, and what works for one person may not work for another. Keep trying to find what works for you.

What do you think would happen if you just … did it anyway?