SeizingMyDay

Paulson Receives Speaking Legend Award

It takes a week to let it sink in. Last weekend I was honored as a member of the 2007 Class of Legends of the Speaking Profession. The award was granted by the Veteran Speakers Conference in Hagerstown, MD on August 25, 2007. The award reads: "Remembering Our Past...Developing Our Future. When the history of our great profession is examined, may the truth of our beginnings be told to those who would grace the platform. Though orators and lecturers created our history and were our forebearers, the legends of modern professional speaking were a pioneering breed whose technique had no benchmark. We salute you...Legend of the Speaking Profession...Terry Paulson. Your creativity, improvisation, risk taking, and willingness to share have set a standard for those who seek 'The Platform.'"   

That is quite a statement. I was honored to be included in the same class as Lou Heckler, Al Walker and Earl Nightingale. Let me share my prepared comments that come close to what I said when I received the award.

"I loved it when Roy Orbison said, 'I may be a living legend, but that sure don't help when I've got to change a flat tire.' Coming here on crutches...with some of my original equipment showing signs of age, I can identify with that statement.But I must say that I love being called a legend by somebody else....especially the caliber of the people voting on this award. It's been said that a trumpeter that blows his own horn ends up playing to an empty theater. I appreciate this honor.

So let me humbly accept this honor knowing how many truly deserve it. If you are known by the company you keep; I'm in good company tonight.

Judy Garland said, 'Let me tell you, legends are all very well if you've got somebody around who loves you.' I've had those people around me throughout my journey:

Parents who loved to laugh and created an audience where it was more important to have fun in life than to be funny.

For Mrs. Nason who challenged me, a pretty shy football player, to compete for graduation speaker on the basis of my oral reports. 

The Lord has been good to me. Through His encouraging love I had the freedom to shine, and laugh, and sing...and work with youth. If you aren't funny and authentic with teens, they will kill you. I worked with Young Life and was a youth director.

I'm thankful for staff around me who recognized before I did that my greatest gift and calling were in speaking...and helping me get there.

For a wife, who didn't require me home every night. She had the confidence and the strength of character to let me serve and shine.

For NSA friends and leaders who encouraged me to serve and lead...and become part of a great family.

For a son, who is now a baptist minister and who gave me the gift of being in his audience and seeing him used by God--flowing with tears.

For giving me two grandsons--one of which won't shut up and has passed from wanting to be puppy when he grows up to wanting to speak.

In Hebrews 2, Paul talked about the great Cloud of Witnesses before us. I feel that tonight--here and on the other side of the divide.

Now, I also know that I'm not done and neither are you. We speak for different reasons now. I don't need to speak for awards or money. I have enough. I speak because I was meant to do it.

I now just have more stories, more depth, and more freedom to tell the truth about what works through my window to the world.

Art was speaking to teenagers and their parents, I had presented to the same group during the week. I asked him how he spoke at 95. He said,

Art Linkletter said, "It's easier. I don't need to prepare. Everything I say reminds me of something else. Just give me three minute sign at the end and I can wrap it up."

I've got my family, my family of God and my speaking family. Thank you for this honor and the company I get to keep because of it."

It was a great honor and a wonderful conference. I hope to return in the years ahead.

Weekend Warrior Bug Hits Me Again!

Well it took 36 years to get a pair of surgery marks! That's right. On Sunday night, this aging weekend warrior took off for a game of volleyball with the Westlake Lutheran Volleyball Team. Lorie questioned my decision--"Are you sure you want to go? You may get hurt." Off course I disregarded her warning, grabbed my old volleyball knee pads and headed for the gym. With six other aging warriors, we took the court for a game with some young players who actually practiced spiking the ball. We were concerned if we could even touch the top of the net. Ah, but we were ready for action.

I was pleased with my early play, but after ten minutes, both sides of the net heard a clearly audible POP as I lunged toward a ball. As my Achilles tendon gave way, I fell to the floor. I didn't have to guess. Thirty-six years ago, I had done the same thing to my left Achilles tendon driving for a basket in a pickup game against some hotshot high school players. I think my play was to win the game. Instead of scoring, I heard the pop and my left leg gave way before I could complete the lay up. In both cases, surgery was required to repair the damage.

In December of 1971, I was in graduate school at Fuller Seminary. It was my left leg, so that even with surgery, I was able to drive. I remember the surgery because of the unique nature of the timing. I was admitted to St. John's Hospital for surgery. Just down the hall was football great Joe Namath waiting for knee surgery. He was the buzz of the floor. Rumor was that he had a woman in his room long after visiting hours were ended. There were guesses as to what the then playboy was up to behind closed doors. We were scheduled for surgery at the same time in different operating rooms.

Dr. Phillip Hay did a great job on the surgery, but what I remember was waking up in recovery coming out of a hazy fog to see a number of nurses around my body. One said, "Is this Joe Namath?" For a moment, I was questioning whether that was possible. Then Joe Namath was wheeled into the room, and another nurse said, "No! That's him!" I've never felt so alone. I'm lucky I had no complications, or they might nit have caught it. The nurses were busy looking at the playboy! It makes for a great story. 

Now, on Friday, July 13th, I get to replicate that surgery. There should be no Joe Namath, just this aging weekend warrior. Here's hoping that thirty-six years has improved the surgery methods ,and I will back from recovery quicker. At 61, I got things to do and fewer years to do it.

Some would be disputatious of operating on Friday the 13th, but I figure more people will not want to risk it, and God will have fewer to watch. All I can say is that maybe I ought to let my volleyball career end--ten minutes of joy...and a little bit of pain. Over the years, I can enhance the story. After all, since Lorie was right, the chances of me getting out of the house again are minimal.

But I am blessed even in the midst of these challenges. God has been so good to me that when you are dealt cards like this...you just play the hand and keep going!

My Parent's World Gets Smaller

I just received this e-mail from my wife regarding my Mom and Dad: "Your parents are not going to Tahoe. You Mom was getting more stressed about going and not sleeping. They decided there was not a good reason to go and driving that far was difficult. You Mom worried about her legs and feet (had a clot in the past) and didn't want to be too far from her doctor if that was a problem. She also seems to think your father doesn't drive as well as he used to. I think that she mainly doesn't want to risk the safer and happy life that they have where they live now. I actually understand if I were in her shoes. Just wanted you to know."

"I just wanted you to know....." says a lot here. It means that my parents, the travel mavens of the past are ending their traveling days. Mom had a rough year, and I think she now feels that doctors are her life line. She doesn't want to be too far away from those that intervened to save her this year. It takes confidence in your health to travel at their age, and Mom doesn't have that. I know Dad would want to, but is not willing to put Mom through the added stress. I think for them to travel, we would have to be with them. Even then, those trips will be less and less frequent and of shorter and shorter duration. I think the world starts to close in the late eighties. And maybe that is OK, you've seen what you are going to see of the world. There's no mountains you can climb or slopes you can ski. The short trips on Mondays with friends your own age seem just fine.to them. It's the people that make the difference any way.

Taking a look forward in my own life at sixty, that means about 25 years of travel before my own world probably starts to shrink. Will that be true for Lorie and I? Will I be like Art Linkletter who is speaking and still traveling with his wife of 70 years at 94 years of age? Now that's a model for me. After all, Lorie and I work at our health and stay active. But, in that Lorie understands mom's resistance and already resists taking long trips, I have a feeling that such limitations may be in my future as well. I guess the best strategy is to live each day and to not say no to any trip you want to take. There will be only so many days and years to take those trips. Yes, seizing my day seems somehow very appropriate today. With our Baltic cruise only a few weeks away, I guess we are doing just that. Praise God and show me the way to the buffet...and exercise room!