Learning to Fly...

The rapture is an eschatological position held by some Christians , particularly those of American evangelicalism , consisting of an end-time event when all Christian believers who are alive, along with resurrected believers, will rise "in the clouds, to meet the Lord in the air." Wikipedia

I grew up in a fundamentalist christian home. We went to church twice on Sunday and then again on Wednesday nights. There was usually another potluck, bible study, or youth group outing tossed in each week for good measure. Lots of church. Out of all the sermons and Sunday school lessons absorbed over the years, there were two things that I became obsessed with, right from the outset, as it pertained to my religious experience. The first was the idea that if you died, got hit by bus let’s say, and you had unrepented sin in your heart as it beat its last beat - a white lie told, or a racy image in your head, a curse word uttered under your breath as you met said bus face-to-face - well you, my friend, were going straight to Hell…FOREVER! Sure, God was love and all that, but break even the smallest of his rules and for all of eternity you were burnt toast, over and over again, like Groundhog Day. This led to many years spent offering repentance like an ongoing mantra pretty much every waking hour. Sometimes it was for a specific act, but more often than not it was a sort of catchall pardon request - “please forgive me for any sin I might have committed” - just to make sure my bases were covered. I remember that I couldn’t quite get my head around the concept of heaven, but sure as heck understood that I didn’t want to spend eternity with Satan in a lake of fire.

The second thing that stuck in my head, in a big way, was the concept of The Rapture - a belief that Jesus Christ will, one day, without warning, return to Earth, hovering like a helicopter in the sky overhead, and will summon all believers - along with the “dead in Christ” - to join him in the air and then ascend all the way to heaven. From the ages of about 5 through 12 I remember that a blinding flash of sunshine through the clouds, the contrail of a jet plane, or a sonic boom would send my heart racing, my eyes scanning the horizon for human flight, and a quick check to see if I myself was experiencing any sense of elevation. I’ll confess that on more than a few occasions, convinced this could be moment, I would offer a little hop of my own to try and jump start my ascension. Confident my parents would be taken, the thought of being left behind was terrifying. And, while all this was going on, there was the image in my head of the aforementioned dead in Christ rising out of their graves to take flight, which sent an ice cold shiver down my spine to join my already racing heart. I decided early on that when the Rapture came, if I was lucky enough to be sin free in that moment and thus meet the qualifications for flight, I would do so with my eyes closed. I had no desire to witness an airborne Zombie apocalypse. That was just too much to contemplate.

Fortunately, for me, as I entered my teens I began to think a little differently and a bit less about the wages of sin and need for maintaining the endless forgiveness mantra loop. I still kept a semi-wary eye to the sky, every now and then prompted by a jet or bird streaking across the blue to look closely for evidence of Rapture, but by then, the world was expanding with other, more tangible, distractions (girls and sports primarily) and my diligence to staying ready and worthy began to wane.

There’s a Point Here…Somewhere

It wasn’t until much later, about 18-years or so, that the ideas of eternal damnation and rapture re-entered my thought process, albeit with a very different context. I was a very young and inexperienced news director at WSVN-TV in Miami. The strains and pressures of running a newsroom undergoing major transition in an exhilarating yet incredibly turbulent market had thrust me into a sense of torment, which, on any given day, left me racked with anxiety and a drowning sense of being completely overwhelmed. It wasn’t until then, all those years past my childhood, that this new hell-on-earth experience brought the notion of The Rapture back into my thought process.

It happened one day, for reasons I’m sure any dime store psychologist could diagnose in about 30 seconds, as I was sitting in my office following a particularly frustrating editorial meeting. Frayed nerves, enhanced by ten or twelve cups of bad newsroom coffee and a couple of Cafe Cubanos tossed in for good measure, had left me literally shaking where I sat. With the walls closing in, my mind raced looking for ways out. Any sort of escape hatch would do. That’s when the image of rapture made its return, only this time, unlike the dread and fear felt as a child, I experienced a sudden rush of euphoria at the notion of escape. I gave into it. I closed my eyes and envisioned being transported like a rocket up, up, and away, into the sky overhead. Interestingly, the experience came minus any religious trappings, no dead in Christ rising with me - thank God! - no angels or savior awaiting my arrival, just me…now up above it all and looking down on where I’d been.

I figure I sat there with eyes closed for maybe 20-30 seconds, but inside the experience it felt timeless. Once the spell was broken and I returned to my earthbound, fish bowl office, I felt something I hadn’t experienced in a good long time. Anger, stress, and the feeling of lost control were replaced with a sense of peace, calm, and resolve. For the first time in, maybe ever, I realized my life was not solely defined by the trapping emotions and pressures of my job. Not only could I escape them whenever I wanted, I could recapture a sense of contextual largess essential to my sanity. My Rapture Technique became a regular part of each and every day at the office - out of necessity - and served as a precursor to my now daily meditation routine, which, often times, still includes a quick virtual trip to the serenity of outer space.

Rapture Comes in Many Forms

The value of my daily “blast offs” (some days required multiple launches) was the literal change in my perceived perspective and context, aka, my outlook on the immediate world below. No longer was I in the middle of a pressure packed inferno, but instead capturing a view where the raging fire appeared more like the tiny flame of a votive candle surrounded by green, blue, and wispy clouds.

When we’re immersed in an all consuming task or function we sacrifice the broad view. We become myopic. Reason, common sense, critical thought, our ability to appreciate humor, are all overwhelmed and effectively shut down. As a result, we actually diminish our ability to create and problem solve. In the daily grind of a newsroom, or any similar business or circumstance, the phenomenon happens on a group level. Now, I don’t think it would be a bad idea at all to pause your daily editorial meeting for a group wide launch to the stars - not that long ago I sat in a corporate meeting where the executive began by having us close our eyes and take ten deep breaths - but there are other ways to achieve the same without the awkwardness that a group meditative practice may bring. For example…

Baby Carrots and Domino’s Pizza…

As I am want to do, this week I focused on diversifying my news and information intake to include things that had absolutely nothing to do with top secret documents, debt limits, or bratty politicians, all things that, over time, seem to thrust me into a very hellish, dark place. Instead, I focused on learning that baby carrots are really just regular carrots chopped up into two-inch segments - who knew? I found out that Domino’s Pizza actually begins preparing your pie 5-10 minutes before you order because they know you’re going to order it before you actually do. Seriously, thanks to their conversion from a food service company to a tech company 15 years ago, they now have algorithms that help them make those kinds of incredibly accurate predictions. And, I found out that all these years of blaming the stressed and uncaring clerks at Ellis Island for the spelling of my last name, which pre-immigration was C-H-E-T-W-O-D-E before becoming CHEATwood, was folly! They had no authority to do so - it was the immigrants who did the name changing, usually to fall in line with the way folks in the new country were pronouncing it. They acquiesced to fit in. Come on ancestral family! CHEATWOOD? Did you not consider what that would mean for the youngins that followed?

Name frustration aside, I can honestly say that this past week’s latest excursion into alternative enlightenment - as they always do - absolutely produced a version of that rapturous feeling of flight. The stories consumed all dealt with innovation in the broadest sense, far-flung, unaffiliated notions used to create unique problem solving, oddities of nature, and even “hair brained” ideas that succeeded against all odds. It cleared the cob webs, eased the frustration, and genuinely helped me see the world, even my day to day issues and problems, in a different light.

One of the things I instituted at WSVN-TV after my rocket-like experience was regular creative meetings with the theme - “favorite things I watch on TV”. We would gather the team together and just talk about the cool show open or shooting style of a particular program; the graphics, music, announcer, or you name it. The discussions started in an almost free association style but always ended, organically, with how we could incorporate one or more of the favorites into our newscasts and shows. Likewise, during my time at TEGNA we emphasized the creation of “innovation teams” and held meetings at our stations that were based on the same idea, but expanded out more broadly. Besides innovation focused solely on the media business, we encouraged the stations to invite thought leaders from divergent industries to talk about their own problem or opportunity inspired creations and the paths that led them there.

Myopic is a Bad Word…

It’s the easiest thing in the world to fall into a “sausage factory” mentality and hyperfocus on just getting the job done. Whether it’s in a newsroom, pizza parlor, or chaotic household, a lack of time and resource can, understandably, make spending an hour on free association ideation with the team, or even 30 seconds for a private, out of body and office space flight of fancy, seem impossible. And yet, I would argue each should be at the top of your “to do” list. A “feeding the beast” mindset leads to a narrowing of focus which, much like a constricted artery in the body, robs you of energy and creativity necessary to survive and succeed. As with an artery, as blood flow is increasingly constricted, sooner or later, well…you AND your sausage factory will die.

The True Meaning…

Although I stopped anticipating The Rapture of my childhood faith a long time ago, I did, finally, come to understand why the adults around me used to speak of it with such hopeful, even gleeful anticipation. It represented an escape. It prompted contemplation of a world free from those things that made the human experience sometimes so very difficult and trying. It was a virtual vacation that provided brightness and hope and, while we’ll save any judgement of the reality of the biblical concept for space and time…I can honestly say, I appreciate and believe in the broader ideal of The Rapture with unwavering conviction. So, as you head into the new week, hop up and see if you can fly. See what you see. See how you feel. If only for a moment, experience a world much larger than the cubby you’ve backed yourself into. Enjoy!

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