Living in the Meantime with Stephen Bauman

Father's Day

In this Father’s Day reflection, Stephen recalls a heartbreaking encounter from his early years in ministry—a young boy who had come to believe that “stupid” was his name because it was all he ever heard from his father. Through this brief but unforgettable moment, Stephen explores the lasting power of a parent’s words, the deep human need for affirmation, and the responsibility fathers have to shape the identity and worth of their children. A poignant meditation on the wounds we can inflict—and the healing we can offer. Transcript: Decades ago, in my first church, I had a small exchange with a young boy standing off by himself who seemed swallowed up in deep sadness. I went to him and introduced myself and asked him his name. He told me his name was “Stupid.” I said I couldn’t believe that was his real name. But he quickly responded that I could believe what I wanted, but his name was “Stupid” because that’s what everyone called him. Said with a kind of quiet finality, he walked away. Later, I spotted him on his way out the door with a man I understood was his father. I don’t know what preceded this exact moment, but I witnessed his father turning a very ugly face toward his son and hissing, “My God, you are just so stupid!!” The boy glanced up and caught my eye for a long moment, then shrugged his shoulders and walked out the door. Like I said, that happened a long time ago. In the meantime, I’ve witnessed far worse behaviors, of course. But since Father’s Day was coming along, the memory of the knowing look in the boy’s eyes came to mind, along with the pain and insight we shared for just a moment... Get full access to Living in the Meantime at livinginthemeantime.substack.com/subscribe [https://livinginthemeantime.substack.com/subscribe?utm_medium=podcast&utm_campaign=CTA_4]

The Music of Healing: Tommy Sands on Peace, Hope, and Human Connection

In this special live conversation, Stephen Bauman sits down with legendary Irish folk singer, songwriter, and peace activist Tommy Sands. From his childhood in rural Ireland to his work during The Troubles, Sands reflects on how music can bridge divides, heal wounds, and create space for reconciliation. Together, they explore the role of art in conflict resolution, lessons learned from peacebuilding efforts around the world, and why hope remains an essential act in an increasingly polarized age. The conversation concludes with stories of Pete Seeger and a moving performance of Sands’ beloved song, “The Music of Healing.” 00:00:00 Introduction: Meeting Tommy Sands 00:01:32 Music, Storytelling, and the Work of Peace 00:06:07 Harvard, Conflict Resolution, and the Music of Healing 00:15:25 Travel, Perspective, and Breaking Tribalism 00:17:03 Growing Up in a Musical Irish Family 00:20:45 The Troubles and the Good Friday Agreement 00:23:12 Lessons from Israel, Gaza, and Iran 00:32:30 Algorithms, Division, and Our Shared Humanity 00:36:29 Faith, Love, and the Common Ground Between Religions 00:42:21 Pete Seeger, Hope, and “The Music of Healing” Get full access to Living in the Meantime at livinginthemeantime.substack.com/subscribe [https://livinginthemeantime.substack.com/subscribe?utm_medium=podcast&utm_campaign=CTA_4]

The Only Way Out...

When a high school student finds himself caught between loyalty to a friend and the truth, a simple conversation becomes a reflection on a much larger cultural problem. In this episode, Stephen Bauman explores the temptation to avoid discomfort, the courage required to face difficult truths, and why, as Robert Frost observed, the only way out is through. Transcript:Elliot was on the horns of a dilemma. A sophomore in high school, Elliot knew that a certain classmate everyone detested had been falsely accused of stealing $150 from a teacher’s purse. This kid wasn’t the thief--Elliot saw his friend take the money. Was loyalty or truth more important? He didn’t know what to do... I happened to be the accidental, non-aligned and evidently, approachable adult to whom he could share his anxiety. I could tell he was really agitated. After a minute or two, Elliot said it would be easiest to do nothing. There was nothing that associated him with knowledge about the crime. He could stay free and clear of the problem. I let that comment hang there for a minute, knowing that as Scott Peck once wrote, “Problems are the cutting edge that distinguishes between success and failure. Problems call forth our courage and our wisdom; indeed, they create our courage and wisdom.” That is, of course, so long as we choose to struggle with them. Distraction, evasion and avoidance are the more normal course of action everywhere in evidence today, from the lowly sophomore to the halls of congress. I don’t think Elliot had intended to share his problem with anyone. So, I told him I was impressed with his trying to work it out. And quietly, gently, suggested that the easy way out was often the worst way out and that maybe he needed to live with his problem for a little bit. It would be uncomfortable, but I’d help him hold it. This little story came to mind this morning while catching up on the news... I think it arrived as a tweak to conscience, a reminder, that each of us has reason to recalibrate our moral compass floundering in our rotting culture. Though we didn’t exactly ask for it, we all share this problem... and honestly, we all need some help acknowledging that, as Robert Frost put it, “the only way out is through...” Get full access to Living in the Meantime at livinginthemeantime.substack.com/subscribe [https://livinginthemeantime.substack.com/subscribe?utm_medium=podcast&utm_campaign=CTA_4]

The Values That Hold Us Together w/ Eric Gullickson

Stephen sits down with Eric Gullickson, president of Mohonk Mountain House, to explore the enduring values that have sustained the historic Hudson Valley retreat for more than 150 years. Grounded in Quaker-inspired principles of stewardship, reverence for nature, and human connection, their conversation reflects on what it means to live thoughtfully and faithfully in chaotic times—and how places of beauty and stillness can help us rediscover what truly matters. Chapters:00:00:00 – Introduction to Mohonk Mountain House 00:03:25 – The Quaker Values Behind Mohonk 00:06:43 – 156 Years of Family Stewardship 00:09:40 – A Different Kind of Family Business 00:13:16 – Preserving the Land for Future Generations 00:17:19 – Why Nature Still Matters 00:19:26 – Eric’s Personal Connection to Mohonk 00:25:52 – Growing Up with Reverence for Nature 00:32:32 – Holding Values in a Divided Culture 00:37:17 – Living in the Meantime of Chaotic Times Get full access to Living in the Meantime at livinginthemeantime.substack.com/subscribe [https://livinginthemeantime.substack.com/subscribe?utm_medium=podcast&utm_campaign=CTA_4]

Confounding Perplexity

In this reflective spring episode of Living in the Meantime, Stephen Bauman shares a story about his young son, a pair of forbidden pruning shears, and a garden cut down too soon. What begins as a memory of frustration becomes a meditation on time, discipline, love, and the mysterious way life grows back fuller than before. Through the lens of parenting, aging, and renewal, Stephen explores how patience and hope shape us across the decades—and what it means to become fully alive. Transcript: My four-year-old son loved to imitate me as I worked in the yard. He particularly liked the huge pruning shears I wielded from time to time and was frustrated by my keeping them stored well out of reach. Returning home one bright, late Spring day, I discovered a row of flowers, once two-feet tall, had been neatly clipped to a few inches of their lives on the side of the house facing the driveway. Running to the back I found that now lying among the recent trimmings were six stalks of unusual lilies I highly prized. Then quickly checking the basement I saw the not-so-carefully stacked boards and boxes leading to the forbidden, and now missing, scissors. Turning ‘round through the doorway, I beheld my son with shears outstretched, framed by the brilliant sun, like some mighty gladiator standing defiant among the defeated. I was furious. Everywhere the flowers had been decapitated. Everywhere. Not a one was left standing. But, the following spring, rather than six stalks of lilies, twelve sprang up. I took my son outside; we sat on the porch steps and taught each other something about pruning and loving and disciplining and miracles. This small memory came to mind while visiting my now 44-year-old son this past week as he showed me around the perimeter of his long-delayed first home--that honestly could have used some of his early penchant for pruning. But what accompanied that early memory while standing in his yard were emanations of the love at the heart of what it means to be a human fully alive. If we have open eyes and hearts, the passing of time is our friend in this. Pruning is a time-bound discipline, requiring patience fortified by hope. One year later, 12 stalks appear instead of six. Forty years later a man stands where a child once stood like some mighty gladiator, arms outstretched... in the meantime, life unfolds in all of its confounding perplexity. Happy spring. I hope you can let it speak to you deeply. Get full access to Living in the Meantime at livinginthemeantime.substack.com/subscribe [https://livinginthemeantime.substack.com/subscribe?utm_medium=podcast&utm_campaign=CTA_4]