Our gift to the world is not just what we say,
it's who we are, where we stand.
I stand here. Where I am is here.
That's where you are too.
I know because you heard me.
Thursday, December 24, 2015
Wednesday, December 16, 2015
An Agreement in Fact
Isn't it amazing
how 5 million agreements
gets to be fact?
When we are told something is a fact,
it becomes something we are sure we know.
It's clearly something
we can be right about.
Or even righteous about!
After all, a fact is a fact,
not just 5 million agreements!
Besides, having that many people
agree to something
is impossible!
No matter.
Just put that impossibility aside
and call it common sense.
That's even more true than fact.
how 5 million agreements
gets to be fact?
When we are told something is a fact,
it becomes something we are sure we know.
It's clearly something
we can be right about.
Or even righteous about!
After all, a fact is a fact,
not just 5 million agreements!
Besides, having that many people
agree to something
is impossible!
No matter.
Just put that impossibility aside
and call it common sense.
That's even more true than fact.
Sunday, December 6, 2015
Kings
She was the pretty lady
who had the things of success.
"My husband does it all", she said.
"He's the power behind the scenes.
He keeps things organized and in order.
I'm just out front for show.
He's really the brains of the outfit."
Behold the pain
of those who make Kings of mice
and who mother their own suffering.
who had the things of success.
"My husband does it all", she said.
"He's the power behind the scenes.
He keeps things organized and in order.
I'm just out front for show.
He's really the brains of the outfit."
Behold the pain
of those who make Kings of mice
and who mother their own suffering.
What does the truth look like?
The truth is attractive
and undeniable.
To know how it looks, speak it.
It's true.
and undeniable.
To know how it looks, speak it.
It's true.
Pictures
To picture your future life
picture waiting
for the other shoe to drop.
To see what your life
has already looked like,
picture afterwards.
Why are you mad at me?
You painted the picture!
picture waiting
for the other shoe to drop.
To see what your life
has already looked like,
picture afterwards.
Why are you mad at me?
You painted the picture!
Saturday, December 5, 2015
Who's the problem?
Have you ever noticed
that the main problem
we discuss about life
is started by people?
Every problem starts with someone.
Find that s.o.b. and shoot him!
When all the people who start problems are shot,
there won't be any more p_____.
that the main problem
we discuss about life
is started by people?
Every problem starts with someone.
Find that s.o.b. and shoot him!
When all the people who start problems are shot,
there won't be any more p_____.
Parents
Most people have one set of parents.
Some have two.
Most of us never see the third.
These are the most intimate.
We live with them every day.
Some have two.
Most of us never see the third.
These are the most intimate.
We live with them every day.
Monday, November 23, 2015
Guilty
Have you ever hear someone say, "You know what I mean?"
The next time you do
ask them to repeat what they said
that you were supposed to know and don't.
That way you can be clear about
what it was that you should
feel guilty about not having gotten
the first time they said it
and what you shouldn't have been
thinking or doing instead.
And when you get what it was
look to see if you feel properly guilty
about not really listening the first time.
If you don't
you should feel guilty about not feeling guilty.
Because when your commitment is to feeling guilty
it isn't about what you didn't hear.
It's about inventing new shoulds and shouldn'ts..
The next time you do
ask them to repeat what they said
that you were supposed to know and don't.
That way you can be clear about
what it was that you should
feel guilty about not having gotten
the first time they said it
and what you shouldn't have been
thinking or doing instead.
And when you get what it was
look to see if you feel properly guilty
about not really listening the first time.
If you don't
you should feel guilty about not feeling guilty.
Because when your commitment is to feeling guilty
it isn't about what you didn't hear.
It's about inventing new shoulds and shouldn'ts..
Saturday, November 21, 2015
Why go to work?
Some people go to work today,
to see what happened yesterday,
that keeps tomorrow
from being successful.
Some go to belong somewhere,
because belonging gives them reason.
Some go because they "haffta".
Some go to contribute.
Some go to make a difference.
A few don't go to work.
They go to self-express.
to see what happened yesterday,
that keeps tomorrow
from being successful.
Some go to belong somewhere,
because belonging gives them reason.
Some go because they "haffta".
Some go to contribute.
Some go to make a difference.
A few don't go to work.
They go to self-express.
When You Know Where You're Going
When you know where you're going,
tell those who work with you.
People always go along
with those who share.
tell those who work with you.
People always go along
with those who share.
Windows of the Mind
The mind is a lighthouse.
It has six windows it can open to
to take in what's happening.
Typically it only hears
through one one window at a time.
So if I talk to your mind
through all six windows at once,
it doesn't know which windows to close,
and which to leave open.
And it doesn't matter if you tell it
that's what I'm doing.
It still only listens
through one window at a time.
Listening through all six windows, is called being.
To speak to a mind through six windows,
come from open windowness.
Like right now,
I'm speaking through six windows.
Are your windows open?
The sound is wondrous.
It has six windows it can open to
to take in what's happening.
Typically it only hears
through one one window at a time.
So if I talk to your mind
through all six windows at once,
it doesn't know which windows to close,
and which to leave open.
And it doesn't matter if you tell it
that's what I'm doing.
It still only listens
through one window at a time.
Listening through all six windows, is called being.
To speak to a mind through six windows,
come from open windowness.
Like right now,
I'm speaking through six windows.
Are your windows open?
The sound is wondrous.
Friday, November 20, 2015
Work
Work all day and rest at night
and you'll never finish.
Do both at the same time
and you're done when you start.
and you'll never finish.
Do both at the same time
and you're done when you start.
Tuesday, November 17, 2015
Lot in life
Show me someone who is resigned to his lot in life,
and I'll show you someone who doesn't know who he is.
and I'll show you someone who doesn't know who he is.
Saturday, November 14, 2015
The first page
This is the first page.
It's your page.
It's a start.
You own it.
Take it.
Make it yours..
If you do the same with your life, it will work
It's your page.
It's a start.
You own it.
Take it.
Make it yours..
If you do the same with your life, it will work
Nonsense
If what I say here makes sense,
don't trust it.
If you understand, don't believe me.
If it's true, I didn't say it.
If you want the truth, ask yourself.
don't trust it.
If you understand, don't believe me.
If it's true, I didn't say it.
If you want the truth, ask yourself.
Silence
When you really listen to what being said
you'll also hear what's not being said.
To know the fullness of what's being said, recreate it.
If you can't you weren't listening.
To know the truth of what's being said,
listen between the words. Listen for...
Listen for what the speaker isn't saying about who they are;
not the story they are speaking.
The truth is behind the story.
It's in the unsaid - the silence.
When wisdom talks with itself, you'll hear silence.
you'll also hear what's not being said.
To know the fullness of what's being said, recreate it.
If you can't you weren't listening.
To know the truth of what's being said,
listen between the words. Listen for...
Listen for what the speaker isn't saying about who they are;
not the story they are speaking.
The truth is behind the story.
It's in the unsaid - the silence.
When wisdom talks with itself, you'll hear silence.
Friday, November 13, 2015
Two Kinds of Humor
There are two kinds of humor.
One just naturally bubbles and shares itself..
It comes from who we are.
The other is designed to fit in, belittle, hide, or deflect.
It comes from our opinions about ourselves and who others should be.
One just naturally bubbles and shares itself..
It comes from who we are.
The other is designed to fit in, belittle, hide, or deflect.
It comes from our opinions about ourselves and who others should be.
Tuesday, November 10, 2015
Imagine for a moment that there was no God
Imagine for a moment that there was no God. What would that be like?
Who, for instance, would be ultimately responsible? In who's name, or for what ends, would righteousness be operative? Or, would it go away? Would integrity be a virtue? Or even necessary?
Would guns and lawlessness be the norm? If we didn't have religions to use (or to blame) what would be our justification for warring on each other?
What would we organize our selves around? Would we create a different strata of accountability - a newly justified hierarchy to blame? Would responsibility continue to be avoided? Where would we place the blame for global warming - climate change? Or would there even be a phenomenon with that label?
In the US would our right and left wing political traditions survive? Expand? If so, around what ideals? Without religions, would we even have ideals? What justifications would we need/use to avoid responsibility for the acts we commit that destroy, demean, or subjugate each other? Would dominate/avoid domination continue as the default human programming?
If we had no external scriptures to quote, what would we use to author our justifications? Would we need to produce evidence to support our assertions? Or would assertions simply devolve to assessment - no evidence necessary? Sort of like pyramids built to store grain?
I've been dwelling in this inquiry for the past several weeks and I'm amazed with the possibilities and the challenges. Having gods solve so many issues for humans. It really leaves us off the hook. We don't have to confront the consequences of our behaviors or our actions.
I'm still in the middle of this - not yet sure if I like it or not. Not yet sure if I really want to go there or not. I keep asking myself if I'd really be willing to take on being 100% responsible for 100% of what's happening. Whew! Scary! And then occasionally exciting and freeing.
You?
Who, for instance, would be ultimately responsible? In who's name, or for what ends, would righteousness be operative? Or, would it go away? Would integrity be a virtue? Or even necessary?
Would guns and lawlessness be the norm? If we didn't have religions to use (or to blame) what would be our justification for warring on each other?
What would we organize our selves around? Would we create a different strata of accountability - a newly justified hierarchy to blame? Would responsibility continue to be avoided? Where would we place the blame for global warming - climate change? Or would there even be a phenomenon with that label?
In the US would our right and left wing political traditions survive? Expand? If so, around what ideals? Without religions, would we even have ideals? What justifications would we need/use to avoid responsibility for the acts we commit that destroy, demean, or subjugate each other? Would dominate/avoid domination continue as the default human programming?
If we had no external scriptures to quote, what would we use to author our justifications? Would we need to produce evidence to support our assertions? Or would assertions simply devolve to assessment - no evidence necessary? Sort of like pyramids built to store grain?
I've been dwelling in this inquiry for the past several weeks and I'm amazed with the possibilities and the challenges. Having gods solve so many issues for humans. It really leaves us off the hook. We don't have to confront the consequences of our behaviors or our actions.
I'm still in the middle of this - not yet sure if I like it or not. Not yet sure if I really want to go there or not. I keep asking myself if I'd really be willing to take on being 100% responsible for 100% of what's happening. Whew! Scary! And then occasionally exciting and freeing.
You?
Thursday, November 5, 2015
The Land of Not and Nothing
This land of Not/Nothing is best viewed from notness
Obviously not and nothing are not the same. To gain access to nothing, be present to notness.
Ok, what the hell am I talking about?
Is this some sort of idealistic gibberish? Am I an over-the-hill elder waxing on about stupid ideas? It could be. Sometimes even I wonder. I certainly don't think of this as the truth. So I write in the frame of mind of "let's see.".
Let's wonder about a bit.
In our language we tend to think of things as absolutes and opposites. If something is not green, it's red. If it's not light it's dark. If it's not left it's right. We have words that we assign as labels to state what something is - to give it a position we can understand. We are programmed - I know the thought of being programmed is repugnant to most people - we are programmed to think in the labels provided by our languages. However in a land of labels notness doesn't compute. We are novices in thinking in terms of what's not.
I don't mean no one can think notness. Many have, many do. Scholars, poets, physicists, religious leaders, philosophers, and yes, just ordinary people, get notness. Notness has been in human language, writings, and teachings for thousands of years. Of course I'm not just talking about western cultures. And for the most part we dismiss it as oddness.
What do I mean by notness? When something is, there is a corresponding state is not. So red is both red and not red. Therefore if something is not red, it doesn't need to be green, or blue, or yellow. It can just be the state of not red. I don't mean there's a real thing called not red. I mean there's a way of thinking not red - a way of relating to a state of being not red.
The simplest way of saying it is if something is not red it's just not red. Period. We don't have to go on and make it something else, some other color, another label. We can just relate to it as not red. Of course using color here is only as an example.
If I said to you someone was not friendly, where does your mind go? What label do you immediately/automatically assume applies, or do you think I mean to have applied, to that person? For most people, stopping at not friendly short circuits their life long programming. Most think what I meant was to say that person was nasty, or grumpy, or unfriendly, or any one of any number of other labels. And they go on to interact with me as though I said whatever they thought I meant from their historical programmed labeling routines. However, I didn't say any of their characteristics applied to that person of reference. I simply said not friendly. What happens if we just stop at not friendly? Where does that leave us? Well if you can short circuit your automatic need to add another label and just be present to standing in not friendly, you have access to notness. Sort of a strange place to stand, yes?
If you doubt what I'm saying pay attention to what you think when I say I am not Christian. I won't attempt to assume what you do with that, and I suspect it's not complimentary. If you live where I live here in the bible belt, it's an immediate red flag. It has all kinds of immediate alternative labels, meanings and consequences. It could mean I am not to be trusted, respected, or included. It means I am to be excluded, maybe shunned, or at least avoided. A few might wonder, since I openly refer to some of my Jewish friends, "Is he a closet Jew?" Lately they might go so far as to wonder if I'm a Muslim. Atheist? Maybe Humanist? Or how about Buddhist? Something! Nope. Just not Christian.
And not Christian doesn't mean all the other baggage that immediately gets added. It doesn't mean I'm not a good person or don't have ideals. It doesn't mean I think Christians are my enemy, or any of a host of other things that get lumped into Christian narratives. It does mean I do not believe in Christian religious doctrine. And I don't believe in God.
God occurs for me as a man made invention, authored in an age of superstition, as a means of assigning responsibility for our plights in life to someone or something "out there". It leaves us off the hook. Witness our denial of global warming and the consequences of it.
I don't go to these lengths in such an emotion laden arena not because of my spiritual preferences. Instead I want to trigger our automatic need to label - our brain's programming for naming, labeling, and categorizing. Our brains scream - we are driven to think and act in the domain of isness - for some way to grasp a reality, and any kind of reality, just so it has a label.
We have to have something be an is. So we have little or no facility to listen for what is not. Being present to what is not requires no more than being. It's a quiet state. It requires no thought, no processing, no conclusions, no alternative labeling. Notness is a peaceful state.
Obviously not and nothing are not the same. To gain access to nothing, be present to notness.
Ok, what the hell am I talking about?
Is this some sort of idealistic gibberish? Am I an over-the-hill elder waxing on about stupid ideas? It could be. Sometimes even I wonder. I certainly don't think of this as the truth. So I write in the frame of mind of "let's see.".
Let's wonder about a bit.
In our language we tend to think of things as absolutes and opposites. If something is not green, it's red. If it's not light it's dark. If it's not left it's right. We have words that we assign as labels to state what something is - to give it a position we can understand. We are programmed - I know the thought of being programmed is repugnant to most people - we are programmed to think in the labels provided by our languages. However in a land of labels notness doesn't compute. We are novices in thinking in terms of what's not.
I don't mean no one can think notness. Many have, many do. Scholars, poets, physicists, religious leaders, philosophers, and yes, just ordinary people, get notness. Notness has been in human language, writings, and teachings for thousands of years. Of course I'm not just talking about western cultures. And for the most part we dismiss it as oddness.
What do I mean by notness? When something is, there is a corresponding state is not. So red is both red and not red. Therefore if something is not red, it doesn't need to be green, or blue, or yellow. It can just be the state of not red. I don't mean there's a real thing called not red. I mean there's a way of thinking not red - a way of relating to a state of being not red.
The simplest way of saying it is if something is not red it's just not red. Period. We don't have to go on and make it something else, some other color, another label. We can just relate to it as not red. Of course using color here is only as an example.
If I said to you someone was not friendly, where does your mind go? What label do you immediately/automatically assume applies, or do you think I mean to have applied, to that person? For most people, stopping at not friendly short circuits their life long programming. Most think what I meant was to say that person was nasty, or grumpy, or unfriendly, or any one of any number of other labels. And they go on to interact with me as though I said whatever they thought I meant from their historical programmed labeling routines. However, I didn't say any of their characteristics applied to that person of reference. I simply said not friendly. What happens if we just stop at not friendly? Where does that leave us? Well if you can short circuit your automatic need to add another label and just be present to standing in not friendly, you have access to notness. Sort of a strange place to stand, yes?
If you doubt what I'm saying pay attention to what you think when I say I am not Christian. I won't attempt to assume what you do with that, and I suspect it's not complimentary. If you live where I live here in the bible belt, it's an immediate red flag. It has all kinds of immediate alternative labels, meanings and consequences. It could mean I am not to be trusted, respected, or included. It means I am to be excluded, maybe shunned, or at least avoided. A few might wonder, since I openly refer to some of my Jewish friends, "Is he a closet Jew?" Lately they might go so far as to wonder if I'm a Muslim. Atheist? Maybe Humanist? Or how about Buddhist? Something! Nope. Just not Christian.
And not Christian doesn't mean all the other baggage that immediately gets added. It doesn't mean I'm not a good person or don't have ideals. It doesn't mean I think Christians are my enemy, or any of a host of other things that get lumped into Christian narratives. It does mean I do not believe in Christian religious doctrine. And I don't believe in God.
God occurs for me as a man made invention, authored in an age of superstition, as a means of assigning responsibility for our plights in life to someone or something "out there". It leaves us off the hook. Witness our denial of global warming and the consequences of it.
I don't go to these lengths in such an emotion laden arena not because of my spiritual preferences. Instead I want to trigger our automatic need to label - our brain's programming for naming, labeling, and categorizing. Our brains scream - we are driven to think and act in the domain of isness - for some way to grasp a reality, and any kind of reality, just so it has a label.
We have to have something be an is. So we have little or no facility to listen for what is not. Being present to what is not requires no more than being. It's a quiet state. It requires no thought, no processing, no conclusions, no alternative labeling. Notness is a peaceful state.
Your secret
The only reason you can't see how fantastic you are, is that you've been keeping it a secret.
Tuesday, November 3, 2015
Having a cold when you're a senior
Having a cold when you're a senior is like being in a tube of ice.
It's hard to swim in ice.
It's hard to swim in ice.
Monday, November 2, 2015
My aging brain
It's become abundantly obvious that I can no longer stand noise and sound distractions. I noticed that I can no longer read when a TV is playing that I can hear, especially when a commercial blares forth.
I'm sure the people who create these commercials have done lots of research. They know exactly what pitch, duration, loudness, and timbre to use to require attention when anyone is within range. I noticed while reading in bed the other night that if the TV was playing, I could not read.
I was annoyed by the sound of the TV and began to wonder what was going on. I used to be able to do all sorts of things that required my attention, with a TV playing in the background. But no more.
I realized that when reading, I was actually speaking the words on the page to myself as I progressed through the narrative. And the TV in the background was drowning out the voice in my head as it recited the words I was reading so I couldn't follow the book. I had to turn off the TV.
As I got conscious to what was happening, I realized there are now lots of everyday examples where I can no longer stand to be around sounds that attract - sounds being predominant, more so than sights, or smells, etc.
Even small tasks and motor skills now require much fuller conscious attention, such that actions that used to seem to be automatic, no longer are (automatic). They now require my direct attention.
Driving for me has always been a completely attention focused act. I never have liked to drive with the radio playing, or even talk to others in the car with me. And in several almost disastrous driving incidents during our married life that focus has saved our lives by allowing very quick reactions to pending (seemingly certain-to-happen) collisions.
It's occurring to me that a lot of my ordinary actions through the day now require that kind of focus. Now even walking down the stairs, when not paying attention, can result in a life threatening fall or injury.
My aging brain seems to only have one operating track and it requires that the engineer be fully awake and paying attention.
I'm sure the people who create these commercials have done lots of research. They know exactly what pitch, duration, loudness, and timbre to use to require attention when anyone is within range. I noticed while reading in bed the other night that if the TV was playing, I could not read.
I was annoyed by the sound of the TV and began to wonder what was going on. I used to be able to do all sorts of things that required my attention, with a TV playing in the background. But no more.
I realized that when reading, I was actually speaking the words on the page to myself as I progressed through the narrative. And the TV in the background was drowning out the voice in my head as it recited the words I was reading so I couldn't follow the book. I had to turn off the TV.
As I got conscious to what was happening, I realized there are now lots of everyday examples where I can no longer stand to be around sounds that attract - sounds being predominant, more so than sights, or smells, etc.
Even small tasks and motor skills now require much fuller conscious attention, such that actions that used to seem to be automatic, no longer are (automatic). They now require my direct attention.
Driving for me has always been a completely attention focused act. I never have liked to drive with the radio playing, or even talk to others in the car with me. And in several almost disastrous driving incidents during our married life that focus has saved our lives by allowing very quick reactions to pending (seemingly certain-to-happen) collisions.
It's occurring to me that a lot of my ordinary actions through the day now require that kind of focus. Now even walking down the stairs, when not paying attention, can result in a life threatening fall or injury.
My aging brain seems to only have one operating track and it requires that the engineer be fully awake and paying attention.
Why clowns are funny
The clown wears his pain on his sleeve.
What's really funny about his act
is that he thinks no one can see it.
What's even more hilarious
is that no one can.
That's why everyone laughs.
What's really funny about his act
is that he thinks no one can see it.
What's even more hilarious
is that no one can.
That's why everyone laughs.
Saturday, October 31, 2015
Relative Truth
The truth and I are cousins.
We had the same mother.
We didn't know it,
so we called her God.
We had the same mother.
We didn't know it,
so we called her God.
Jimmy Cordoroys
Jimmy squirmed in his seat. His new corduroys were scratchy.
"Yes, I see you Jimmy", said his teacher.
Jimmy hadn't been watching his teacher and looked up in surprise to find her.
She was at the board with her back to him, finishing her list of math homework problems.
Without looking back she asked, "When are you going to write down your homework problems, Jimmy?"
Terrified of the eyes in the back of her head,
he snatched a piece of paper and began writing,
the itch from his corduroys now gone.
Notice the next time:
when someone knows where you're coming from,
they always seem to know where you are.
"Yes, I see you Jimmy", said his teacher.
Jimmy hadn't been watching his teacher and looked up in surprise to find her.
She was at the board with her back to him, finishing her list of math homework problems.
Without looking back she asked, "When are you going to write down your homework problems, Jimmy?"
Terrified of the eyes in the back of her head,
he snatched a piece of paper and began writing,
the itch from his corduroys now gone.
Notice the next time:
when someone knows where you're coming from,
they always seem to know where you are.
The difference between right and wrong
There is no difference between being right and being righteous,
except to the one who knows the truth.
One who knows the truth is always wrong.
except to the one who knows the truth.
One who knows the truth is always wrong.
The truth about life
The saying goes, "The truth is where you find it."
Actually however, we seldom want to find it.
We're afraid it will confirm what we already know.
When we accept that we're going to die tomorrow,
the truth gets very clear.
And so does life in all its glory.
Actually however, we seldom want to find it.
We're afraid it will confirm what we already know.
When we accept that we're going to die tomorrow,
the truth gets very clear.
And so does life in all its glory.
Wednesday, October 21, 2015
Working to get somewhere
The sun comes up by sitting still.
Milkweed seeds float on a breeze,
and arrives in a calm.
Snow does not resist falling.
Flying is not work for birds.
Of all things in the universe
that journey to somewhere,
only we work to get there.
We are that getting somewhere in life requires effort -
somewhere being not here, not now.
We either get there or we don't.
It requires no work to be somewhere.
Having arrived somewhere in life we sometimes wonder:
"How did I get here?"
"Did I enjoy the ride?"
"How did this happen?"
"Was all that work worth it?"
Getting somewhere is work.
Being somewhere requires nothing.
To be somewhere, stop .
Milkweed seeds float on a breeze,
and arrives in a calm.
Snow does not resist falling.
Flying is not work for birds.
Of all things in the universe
that journey to somewhere,
only we work to get there.
We are that getting somewhere in life requires effort -
somewhere being not here, not now.
We either get there or we don't.
It requires no work to be somewhere.
Having arrived somewhere in life we sometimes wonder:
"How did I get here?"
"Did I enjoy the ride?"
"How did this happen?"
"Was all that work worth it?"
Getting somewhere is work.
Being somewhere requires nothing.
To be somewhere, stop .
Monday, October 19, 2015
Belonging
I'm a pretty independent sort. My unsaid mantra, adopted I think when I was in early high school, has been I don't need anyone. It sounds like, "Ok, so they don't want me, I don't need them." I went on to live the life of the odd man out. Or at least it seemed to feel that way.
My only real comparison was my younger brother, who was as long as I can remember, the star - the big man on campus guy - always popular, always liked and with lots of friends. Belonging appeared to be effortless for him. I watched him work at his friendships in ways that appeared easy to him. Of course he might disagree with my characterization of the easiness of it, and that's how it occurred to me.
Oh I had a few school/neighborhood friends but it always seemed like they too were the odd men out, the fringe-of-the-popular crowd so to speak. By comparison my brother was a basketball and track star, while I was an art major and school photographer who went on canoe trips. I always wondered what it took to fit in and never, even to this day, figured that out. So with the exception of my wife Anne and my children, my strategy has been to go it alone.
I've done and continue to do lots of things alone, even today. And I find myself most content, most at ease and peaceful when doing so. I fish by myself, play golf by myself, and hike in the woods by myself. My most spiritual experiences are when fishing by myself.
When I lived in the Philadelphia area I had some good men friends, guys with whom I shared common interests in business, in transformational activities/interests/commitments, along with a local community of friends that both Anne and I played with, engaged with, and contributed to for 25 years.
Then we moved to NC to be near our daughter and that Philadelphia community faded into the background, kept in existence only by my participation in Facebook and occasional trips back north. I made some men friends here in NC mainly around the golf community of other neighborhood retired guys and through social activities fostered by Anne - she can go belong anywhere at the drop of a hat.
And still there has been no sense of belonging as in being anchored. It's always occurred like I'm just passing through, on the outside of the geezers group, tolerated, maybe even accepted, but not really in, you know? So back I went to doing things alone. Well this past weekend I had an experience with some men friends that confronted my strategy, with guys I would have in the past, called golfing "buddies".
We went to the Carolina coast for 3-day golfing outing. We drove three hours each way, played on three courses over the three days, cheering on each other's good shots, teasing about each other's bad shots, and solacing each other when the dreaded yips showed up during the inevitable bad run of holes. They teased me the whole weekend, about my lack of appreciation for southern sole food and vowed to introduce me to multiple foul sounding foods such as grits and gravy, Brunswick stew, Jones sausage, corn dogs and breakfast biscuits with meat gravy.
We went to see, and all enjoyed, The Martian at the movies. We had our meals together. We shared our politics, our war stories, and our childhood stories - finding as the weekend unfolded that we have a good deal in common. The weekend left me feeling we had a mutual respect and fondness for each other. It certainly occurred that way for me.
I came home from our outing having thoroughly enjoyed the time together and realizing it was so much fun because I got to share it with the other guys. Even today, the day after we're back, I still feel it. They of course may be unaware of the gift they gave me. And it was truly a gift - given without anything expected in return, without any ulterior motives, leaving me finally, here at 74, belonging.
My only real comparison was my younger brother, who was as long as I can remember, the star - the big man on campus guy - always popular, always liked and with lots of friends. Belonging appeared to be effortless for him. I watched him work at his friendships in ways that appeared easy to him. Of course he might disagree with my characterization of the easiness of it, and that's how it occurred to me.
Oh I had a few school/neighborhood friends but it always seemed like they too were the odd men out, the fringe-of-the-popular crowd so to speak. By comparison my brother was a basketball and track star, while I was an art major and school photographer who went on canoe trips. I always wondered what it took to fit in and never, even to this day, figured that out. So with the exception of my wife Anne and my children, my strategy has been to go it alone.
I've done and continue to do lots of things alone, even today. And I find myself most content, most at ease and peaceful when doing so. I fish by myself, play golf by myself, and hike in the woods by myself. My most spiritual experiences are when fishing by myself.
When I lived in the Philadelphia area I had some good men friends, guys with whom I shared common interests in business, in transformational activities/interests/commitments, along with a local community of friends that both Anne and I played with, engaged with, and contributed to for 25 years.
Then we moved to NC to be near our daughter and that Philadelphia community faded into the background, kept in existence only by my participation in Facebook and occasional trips back north. I made some men friends here in NC mainly around the golf community of other neighborhood retired guys and through social activities fostered by Anne - she can go belong anywhere at the drop of a hat.
And still there has been no sense of belonging as in being anchored. It's always occurred like I'm just passing through, on the outside of the geezers group, tolerated, maybe even accepted, but not really in, you know? So back I went to doing things alone. Well this past weekend I had an experience with some men friends that confronted my strategy, with guys I would have in the past, called golfing "buddies".
We went to the Carolina coast for 3-day golfing outing. We drove three hours each way, played on three courses over the three days, cheering on each other's good shots, teasing about each other's bad shots, and solacing each other when the dreaded yips showed up during the inevitable bad run of holes. They teased me the whole weekend, about my lack of appreciation for southern sole food and vowed to introduce me to multiple foul sounding foods such as grits and gravy, Brunswick stew, Jones sausage, corn dogs and breakfast biscuits with meat gravy.
We went to see, and all enjoyed, The Martian at the movies. We had our meals together. We shared our politics, our war stories, and our childhood stories - finding as the weekend unfolded that we have a good deal in common. The weekend left me feeling we had a mutual respect and fondness for each other. It certainly occurred that way for me.
I came home from our outing having thoroughly enjoyed the time together and realizing it was so much fun because I got to share it with the other guys. Even today, the day after we're back, I still feel it. They of course may be unaware of the gift they gave me. And it was truly a gift - given without anything expected in return, without any ulterior motives, leaving me finally, here at 74, belonging.
Thursday, October 15, 2015
A bud on a tree
A bud on a tree
and a drop of rain.
They are different,
and the same.
While one nurtures the other,.
they both hold promises
of what will be.
and a drop of rain.
They are different,
and the same.
While one nurtures the other,.
they both hold promises
of what will be.
The Whole World is a Stage
It seems to me that the whole world is a stage.
If that ever sunk in, we'd all have a case of stage fright.
Thinking about it gives me goosebumps.
Can you imagine a worldwide case of stage fright?
I think that's what we call the "second coming".
If that ever sunk in, we'd all have a case of stage fright.
Thinking about it gives me goosebumps.
Can you imagine a worldwide case of stage fright?
I think that's what we call the "second coming".
Wednesday, October 7, 2015
Gun rights at any cost
This is an attempt to do some thinking. To do some out loud thinking. To get a sense of where I am about this. One way I am is troubled. Troubled by things I seen said on TV in the past couple days by Ben Carson and Donald Trump in the wake of the shootings in Oregon.
I'm writing this to kind of work my way through my own thoughts. I'm a bit uneasy about anyone else seeing it as I'm committed to being honest with myself and wondering who will be offended by anyplace I arrive as I ponder my way through this. But there aren't many who follow my blog and the ones that seem to are people I trust and respect.
I'm surprised no one in my community of friends, including my Facebook "friends", has said anything about Ben Carson's statements yesterday and today about how he'd handle a shooter if he were around (charge them), and how 2nd amendment gun ownership supersedes protecting people in importance. I thought I'd hear a barrage of opinions. Nope. Just silence. I'm astonished by these gun-ownership-rights-at-all-costs-arguments I've been watching on TV. And finally I'm annoyed that my past internal conversation has been to say to myself to let someone else figure it out.
As a starting point I am someone who has owned guns, since I began hunting as a teenager, who belongs to a gun local club, and likes to shoot there, and who is an NRA member - AND who agrees by-the-way with the majority of NRA members that gun ownership, safety, and usage should be more regulated to the benefit of all, despite the constant shrill pronouncements and fear mongering published by the NRA.
As for Ben Carson's proposition, I assert his imagined reaction toward a killing shooter in a classroom setting is a self delusional hypothetical. Unlike a cop or a soldier who is trained and has learned to how to react to that sort of danger, Carson has got no idea how he'd react. It's a delusional hypothetical and speaks to the utter stupidity of those who claim this as a way to justify gun rights at any cost.
Unfortunately I seem to be part of a hopeless community of citizens who do not see any way to punch past the juggernaut of gun business interests, NRA's lopsided single-minded narrative, and idealistic constitutionalists who argue the infallible righteousness of that document to justify taking no action to bring the use of guns under a more rational system of control in order to at least, even if imperfectly, quell some of the actions of these mentally ill killers, and criminals whose neighborhood collateral damage killings reign unabated.
I'm resigned that the direction this so-called debate is taking will require still more, and dramatically more outrageous, acts of killing, which Carson, and Trump so blithely admit they expect will continue, accelerate, and grow in their honorifics. And that it will inure to perhaps my grandchildren's generation - when the scale and consequence of this killing have finally become so horrific as to become unacceptable to enough people, to finally step up and find an equitable way to deal with this in the U.S.
It occurs to me that one of the costs of our so-called freedoms and the financial disparities we have allowed to segregate our melting pot have provided for institutionalizing group think - molding the narrative inside of which we all live in this country to the self-serving aggrandizement of the opinions, interests and wants of the few, the most powerful, and those who can afford to create and mold this country's governing narrative.
We are currently living in a group think of righteousness. We are battered by voices from all sides of who is the most "right" - has the most righteous claim to their brand of righteousness. The claims are based on historical justifications, religious justifications, and justifications of traditions that have long out lived their usefulness or rational applicability. And of course any righteous position carries with it the automatic "wrongness" of any who disagree.
I am not a member of the NRA because I want to be, or because I agree with their positions. I am a member because it's the only way I can hold membership in any local gun club and so have access to their shooting ranges. I have enjoyed building rifles. I have enjoyed making my own shooting ammunition, trying different load component combinations to improve accuracy and the performance of guns under different target challenges.
My favorite gun is a civil war era black powder Navy Colt "six shooter". And every time I go through the 30 minute process it takes to safely load and fire that gun, I marvel to myself how any civil war soldier ever effectively used that gun to hit anything, especially when they were being fired upon. Forget about any idiotic notions that anyone could fast draw and fire that kind of gun from a holster at waste height and hit anyone standing 30 feet away. Not going to happen.
I quit hunting over 40 years ago after being twice shot at by other hunters in the Pocono woods in PA. Once the fear, and anger of those near-miss moments passed, I found myself wondering what possessed those hunters to such heights of stupidity. As I wondered about and confronted that adrenalized moment that I and all shooters experience - that moment of unintelligible fear/excitement/power, I had an epiphany. It occurred to me that shooting and killing (killing anything) were two different states, and that I could enjoy one without needing the other.
I was hunting with my dad and had spotted a nice buck among a herd of dear. I was sighted in on him and expected to drop him in his tracks as was my practice. As I watched him through my scope, I had this sudden overwhelming sense that I had no need to kill this creature. So I fired under the deer to chase him and the herd up the mountain, walked out of the woods, and never went hunting again.
I continued to shoot, to enjoy the science of ballistics, the craft of guns and ballistics and the fun and skill of shooting hands guns - but no more hunting. I've no desire to kill. Through this all I am clear that the emotional charge of shooting - of controlling the power of this instrument - addresses some deep need to assuage the final helplessness we all spend life avoiding, working around, overcoming, conquering, or in some cases drugging away.
I'm also clear that although I have permits to carry a gun and were I have one with me in one of these shooting situations, and with all the shooting, training and facility I have with using a gun, I have no idea - NOT REALLY - how I would behave in the face of some murderous person trying to kill me or others around me. Could I shoot and hit him? I expect so. Would I have the control and practiced reaction to do so if he were shooting at me? I really have no idea. Would I have dreamed or pre-imagined myself charging in to save the situation, such that it would be a dependable response? I'd like to think so. But thinking so and actually doing so in that split second are very different things. The truth is I DON'T AND WON'T REALLY KNOW UNTIL IT HAPPENS.
The difference between me and Ben Carson is that I know I don't know. He's deluded himself into thinking he does. I don't want a president who deludes himself and is comfortable in his righteousness.
I'm writing this to kind of work my way through my own thoughts. I'm a bit uneasy about anyone else seeing it as I'm committed to being honest with myself and wondering who will be offended by anyplace I arrive as I ponder my way through this. But there aren't many who follow my blog and the ones that seem to are people I trust and respect.
I'm surprised no one in my community of friends, including my Facebook "friends", has said anything about Ben Carson's statements yesterday and today about how he'd handle a shooter if he were around (charge them), and how 2nd amendment gun ownership supersedes protecting people in importance. I thought I'd hear a barrage of opinions. Nope. Just silence. I'm astonished by these gun-ownership-rights-at-all-costs-arguments I've been watching on TV. And finally I'm annoyed that my past internal conversation has been to say to myself to let someone else figure it out.
As a starting point I am someone who has owned guns, since I began hunting as a teenager, who belongs to a gun local club, and likes to shoot there, and who is an NRA member - AND who agrees by-the-way with the majority of NRA members that gun ownership, safety, and usage should be more regulated to the benefit of all, despite the constant shrill pronouncements and fear mongering published by the NRA.
As for Ben Carson's proposition, I assert his imagined reaction toward a killing shooter in a classroom setting is a self delusional hypothetical. Unlike a cop or a soldier who is trained and has learned to how to react to that sort of danger, Carson has got no idea how he'd react. It's a delusional hypothetical and speaks to the utter stupidity of those who claim this as a way to justify gun rights at any cost.
Unfortunately I seem to be part of a hopeless community of citizens who do not see any way to punch past the juggernaut of gun business interests, NRA's lopsided single-minded narrative, and idealistic constitutionalists who argue the infallible righteousness of that document to justify taking no action to bring the use of guns under a more rational system of control in order to at least, even if imperfectly, quell some of the actions of these mentally ill killers, and criminals whose neighborhood collateral damage killings reign unabated.
I'm resigned that the direction this so-called debate is taking will require still more, and dramatically more outrageous, acts of killing, which Carson, and Trump so blithely admit they expect will continue, accelerate, and grow in their honorifics. And that it will inure to perhaps my grandchildren's generation - when the scale and consequence of this killing have finally become so horrific as to become unacceptable to enough people, to finally step up and find an equitable way to deal with this in the U.S.
It occurs to me that one of the costs of our so-called freedoms and the financial disparities we have allowed to segregate our melting pot have provided for institutionalizing group think - molding the narrative inside of which we all live in this country to the self-serving aggrandizement of the opinions, interests and wants of the few, the most powerful, and those who can afford to create and mold this country's governing narrative.
We are currently living in a group think of righteousness. We are battered by voices from all sides of who is the most "right" - has the most righteous claim to their brand of righteousness. The claims are based on historical justifications, religious justifications, and justifications of traditions that have long out lived their usefulness or rational applicability. And of course any righteous position carries with it the automatic "wrongness" of any who disagree.
I am not a member of the NRA because I want to be, or because I agree with their positions. I am a member because it's the only way I can hold membership in any local gun club and so have access to their shooting ranges. I have enjoyed building rifles. I have enjoyed making my own shooting ammunition, trying different load component combinations to improve accuracy and the performance of guns under different target challenges.
My favorite gun is a civil war era black powder Navy Colt "six shooter". And every time I go through the 30 minute process it takes to safely load and fire that gun, I marvel to myself how any civil war soldier ever effectively used that gun to hit anything, especially when they were being fired upon. Forget about any idiotic notions that anyone could fast draw and fire that kind of gun from a holster at waste height and hit anyone standing 30 feet away. Not going to happen.
I quit hunting over 40 years ago after being twice shot at by other hunters in the Pocono woods in PA. Once the fear, and anger of those near-miss moments passed, I found myself wondering what possessed those hunters to such heights of stupidity. As I wondered about and confronted that adrenalized moment that I and all shooters experience - that moment of unintelligible fear/excitement/power, I had an epiphany. It occurred to me that shooting and killing (killing anything) were two different states, and that I could enjoy one without needing the other.
I was hunting with my dad and had spotted a nice buck among a herd of dear. I was sighted in on him and expected to drop him in his tracks as was my practice. As I watched him through my scope, I had this sudden overwhelming sense that I had no need to kill this creature. So I fired under the deer to chase him and the herd up the mountain, walked out of the woods, and never went hunting again.
I continued to shoot, to enjoy the science of ballistics, the craft of guns and ballistics and the fun and skill of shooting hands guns - but no more hunting. I've no desire to kill. Through this all I am clear that the emotional charge of shooting - of controlling the power of this instrument - addresses some deep need to assuage the final helplessness we all spend life avoiding, working around, overcoming, conquering, or in some cases drugging away.
I'm also clear that although I have permits to carry a gun and were I have one with me in one of these shooting situations, and with all the shooting, training and facility I have with using a gun, I have no idea - NOT REALLY - how I would behave in the face of some murderous person trying to kill me or others around me. Could I shoot and hit him? I expect so. Would I have the control and practiced reaction to do so if he were shooting at me? I really have no idea. Would I have dreamed or pre-imagined myself charging in to save the situation, such that it would be a dependable response? I'd like to think so. But thinking so and actually doing so in that split second are very different things. The truth is I DON'T AND WON'T REALLY KNOW UNTIL IT HAPPENS.
The difference between me and Ben Carson is that I know I don't know. He's deluded himself into thinking he does. I don't want a president who deludes himself and is comfortable in his righteousness.
Tuesday, October 6, 2015
A journeyman plumber watching the ease with which the master plumber was threading a thick pipe - a continuous smooth easy arcing of the big thread cutting die back and forth as new threads were created. Every now and then the master would tell the journeyman to squirt a little cutting fluid on the pipe and forming threads.
Suddenly the journeyman realized that he was witnessing two unusual occasions - the master was doing work that was usually done by apprentices or journeymen, and he was doing it without the typical struggles of threading thick pipes - with extraordinary ease and smoothness. . "Why is it that you're threading this pipe?", he asked. "Isn't this work for our apprentice to be doing?"
"I enjoy doing it myself once in a while. It contributes to the quality of everything else I do." replied the master.
After pondering the answer for a few minutes, the journeyman said, " That seems so easy for you. I've never seen anyone do that so smoothly. You must have practiced that for a long time."
The master replied, "It's how you set it up. When you set your work up to be easy ahead of time, it gets to be that way when you do it."
"How do you set work up to be easy ahead of time?", asked the journeyman.
"By making your work be an expression of your self. Happiness is a smooth, even pipe thread.", answered the master.
And the threading die continued in it's smooth unbroken circles in the hands of the master.
Suddenly the journeyman realized that he was witnessing two unusual occasions - the master was doing work that was usually done by apprentices or journeymen, and he was doing it without the typical struggles of threading thick pipes - with extraordinary ease and smoothness. . "Why is it that you're threading this pipe?", he asked. "Isn't this work for our apprentice to be doing?"
"I enjoy doing it myself once in a while. It contributes to the quality of everything else I do." replied the master.
After pondering the answer for a few minutes, the journeyman said, " That seems so easy for you. I've never seen anyone do that so smoothly. You must have practiced that for a long time."
The master replied, "It's how you set it up. When you set your work up to be easy ahead of time, it gets to be that way when you do it."
"How do you set work up to be easy ahead of time?", asked the journeyman.
"By making your work be an expression of your self. Happiness is a smooth, even pipe thread.", answered the master.
And the threading die continued in it's smooth unbroken circles in the hands of the master.
Sunday, October 4, 2015
Humor
There are two kinds of humor.
One bubbles up.
It comes from who you are.
The other responds to external stimulus.
It comes from who you think you are.
One bubbles up.
It comes from who you are.
The other responds to external stimulus.
It comes from who you think you are.
Saturday, September 26, 2015
When I play hide and seek.
To use words to talk about something that can't be talked about: speak.
Then speak again.
Then say it again, differently the same.
Put intention where you are - where your words are coming from. ...
Make the words yours and give them away.
Send them as gifts, with power; without force.
See them flow as waves upon the shore.
See the words and watch them go forth.
Then speak again.
Then say it again, differently the same.
Put intention where you are - where your words are coming from. ...
Make the words yours and give them away.
Send them as gifts, with power; without force.
See them flow as waves upon the shore.
See the words and watch them go forth.
We are between the words.
We are what the words mean.
We are senders and receivers.
Our words are imperfectly perfect.
We say everything and nothing.
What our words don't say is OK unsaid.
If words said everything, people wouldn't be needed to say them.
That would ruin our game of hide and seek.
If you don't believe it, ask the Pope!
He speaks the unsaid
We are what the words mean.
We are senders and receivers.
Our words are imperfectly perfect.
We say everything and nothing.
What our words don't say is OK unsaid.
If words said everything, people wouldn't be needed to say them.
That would ruin our game of hide and seek.
If you don't believe it, ask the Pope!
He speaks the unsaid
Monday, September 7, 2015
The Whole World is a Stage!
The whole world is a stage. If this ever really sank in we'd all go into stage fright. Just thinking about it gives me goosebumps. Can you imagine a worldwide case of stage fright? I think that's what we would call "the second coming".
Friday, September 4, 2015
Only Gods Choose When They Die
How is it so that you're not here?
Why did you leave me now?
It's essential that I know.
There's sadness in my house.
You loved me so, as granddads do.
I know cause you were there.
When I was born you made a vow,
my dreams would all be fair.
When marriage came you dropped behind,
and watched from quiet love.
And now I see that I must share,
the truth that you're made of.
My child has asked, "Where's great grand dad?"
I've said through painful tears;
he's gone away my little one.
He's faced the final fear.
It's clear I never told you how
I loved you like a dad.
Please know from me this child did hear
the love my granddad had.
June 1980
Why did you leave me now?
It's essential that I know.
There's sadness in my house.
You loved me so, as granddads do.
I know cause you were there.
When I was born you made a vow,
my dreams would all be fair.
When marriage came you dropped behind,
and watched from quiet love.
And now I see that I must share,
the truth that you're made of.
My child has asked, "Where's great grand dad?"
I've said through painful tears;
he's gone away my little one.
He's faced the final fear.
It's clear I never told you how
I loved you like a dad.
Please know from me this child did hear
the love my granddad had.
June 1980
Monday, August 24, 2015
My happy neighbor
I played golf last Friday with my next door neighbor which happens reasonably frequently. This was at a beautiful course up in Danville, VA that was new to us. Afterward we drove down to Greensboro to the Wyndham Golf tournament and saw Tiger woods and Davis Love play through right in front of us. I even saw myself on TV in the Saturday morning reports on Morning Drive, when they showed Tiger hitting his second shot on the 5th fairway. Lo and behold, there I was standing behind him at the edge of the fairway! How exciting!
My neighbor and friend is a PhD Chemist/College Professor, so he's got some serious smarts. He grew up in British Guyana before coming to the US to get his college education. And he's been here ever since. He's now a wiry upper middle-aged guy with slight graying hair and an aversion to chiggers.
As many times as I've enjoyed playing with my friend, this time was a bit more impressionable for me as I got fully present to his on-the-golf-course demeanor.Without any intention to be in any way critical of Mr L, I thought to share some things I noted about his demeanor when golfing.
One, he's got a heightened sense of bodily self expression. He leans way over backwards with one leg way up in the air when his putts come near the cup as though he can will the ball to curve into the cup by body language alone. He's very limber.
Two, he cheers his own shots! Can you imagine? His standard cheer is "whew" but it's sung in a high pitch rather than just being said. When he's really wants to emphasize his cheer he adds "wee", so it comes out ,"woo wee", then a slight pause, then, "Yeah!"
Three, when he hits a good drive or iron shot he may break into that celebratory cheer along with a little jig sort of thing.
Four, he laughs a lot, and always seems happy.
I really like my neighbor a lot, but sometimes I wonder how much of this celebration and happiness I can take! After all, it's just golf'.
Wednesday, August 19, 2015
The Creepy Crawlies
Does anyone else experience this?
Last night I woke with a start. Something was crawling down my arm which was out and above the covers. It felt like a spider, at least like some sort of small bug.
Before I was fully awake I snapped my arm up in the air to rid myself of the creepy crawler that was invading my person. Now here's the thing. These creepy crawlers visit every now and again. Not every night, nor even every month. But it's not rare.
I have in the past been so sure I was experiencing a bug infestation that I've jumped out of bed, turned on the lights, thrown back the covers, and hunted everywhere to find the invader, ready to pounce and kill the invader. But surprised as I been, I've found no culprit!
This hasn't just happened once or twice. *\*-My middle-night safaris have occurred maybe four or five times in the past say four years. Usually after my fly-swatter-in-hand-ready-to-pounce-exhaustive-searches, I settle down enough to go back to sleep, thankfully without bug invasion night mares.
A couple of years back there was a spat of bed bugs going around the neighborhood and I was sure that was the source of my attacks. However upon close inspection, no such issue. So what's going on?
When I looked this up online here's the causes I found: Morgellon's Disease, Menopause, Allergies, Certain Medications, and/or Withdrawal Symptoms. Thank God, after some serious reading I ruled those out. Next I came upon this:
Damm!
Before I was fully awake I snapped my arm up in the air to rid myself of the creepy crawler that was invading my person. Now here's the thing. These creepy crawlers visit every now and again. Not every night, nor even every month. But it's not rare.
I have in the past been so sure I was experiencing a bug infestation that I've jumped out of bed, turned on the lights, thrown back the covers, and hunted everywhere to find the invader, ready to pounce and kill the invader. But surprised as I been, I've found no culprit!
This hasn't just happened once or twice. *\*-My middle-night safaris have occurred maybe four or five times in the past say four years. Usually after my fly-swatter-in-hand-ready-to-pounce-exhaustive-searches, I settle down enough to go back to sleep, thankfully without bug invasion night mares.
A couple of years back there was a spat of bed bugs going around the neighborhood and I was sure that was the source of my attacks. However upon close inspection, no such issue. So what's going on?
When I looked this up online here's the causes I found: Morgellon's Disease, Menopause, Allergies, Certain Medications, and/or Withdrawal Symptoms. Thank God, after some serious reading I ruled those out. Next I came upon this:
The medical term to explain the crawling sensation on skin is formication. Many researchers believe this is a form of tactile hallucination..
Ok, so now I'm left with that I'm hallucinating.
Damm!
Tuesday, August 18, 2015
No complaints day
I have this friend, Marlyn.
Now I dearly love Marlyn. At least I did until she invited me to participate in a No Complaining Day!
I responded to the invitation by complaining that I couldn't possibly give up complaining.
I love complaining. Complaining is cathartic. It points responsibility toward the person or issue that has annoyed the complainer. I mean who wants to be responsible? I don't wake up that way. I wake up into someone else is responsible, maybe wrong, certainly the problem.
Among us grumpy old men complaining is sort of a daily ritual - seeing who can come up with the best complaints, the most dramatic complaints, maybe the complaints we've so far haven't yet voiced, and that when newly shared, are instantly recognizable by all the other geezers! That's sharing at it's best!
Sorry Marlyn. Giving up complaining is worse than giving up sex - as though that's an issue anymore.
Now I dearly love Marlyn. At least I did until she invited me to participate in a No Complaining Day!
I responded to the invitation by complaining that I couldn't possibly give up complaining.
I love complaining. Complaining is cathartic. It points responsibility toward the person or issue that has annoyed the complainer. I mean who wants to be responsible? I don't wake up that way. I wake up into someone else is responsible, maybe wrong, certainly the problem.
Among us grumpy old men complaining is sort of a daily ritual - seeing who can come up with the best complaints, the most dramatic complaints, maybe the complaints we've so far haven't yet voiced, and that when newly shared, are instantly recognizable by all the other geezers! That's sharing at it's best!
Sorry Marlyn. Giving up complaining is worse than giving up sex - as though that's an issue anymore.
My special spot
I have this spot. It's a special spot. You might say it's a life impacting spot.
The thing is, this spot drives me nuts! Now I'm guessing most people have their spot(s). I expect they are different - in different locations. I call my spot my "be with" spot. That's because the only way I can control it; well maybe the word isn't really control, maybe it's more like have some peace with it - the only way I can do anything that works is to "be with it".
I learned this exercise back in 1979 in the Est training. The example they used to demonstrate this exercise in the training was the example of how to disappear a headache. But my spot isn't a headache. It's an itch.
This itch occurs on the bottom of my left foot, just in front of and to the left of my heal bone. The thing about this itch is that it's not on the surface, as in, on the skin of my foot. It's like under the skin, inside my foot, maybe about say a quarter of an inch in. So it's not your everyday run-of-the-mill kind of itch.
My itch does temporarily respond to scratching, if the scratching is really hard, like using a screw driver, or maybe the bristle pad I have in the garage for cleaning the bottom of my shoes. When I say temporarily, I mean something in the order of maybe 30 seconds or so. Then it's right back under there.
But here's what drives me nuts about the spot. It seems to only happen during the middle of the night, most noticeably when I wake up and have to get up to pee. I come back to bed in a half stupor, hoping I can craw in and drop right back into that great dream I was having, when that dammed itch shows up.
Lest you think this is funny or ridiculous, knock it off. This isn't funny! This nemesis can and has kept me awake for a couple hours. I've sharpened the big toe nail on my right foot to a point so I can use it as a scratchier. I've tried a half dozen different long handled scratchers. And I've gotten up and visited that bristle pad out in the garage.
I went to the doctor to see if maybe they had some sort of magic potion that would grant me itch-freeness. No such invention! Each technique has given me momentary relief, only to be revisited by this deep internal itch shortly thereafter.
So finally, one night a few months back, I found myself doing that disappearing exercise. You know the one : "Locate that itch in your body. What shape is it? What color is it? Is it constant or does it fluctuate? Now be with that itch and begin to shrink it in size. Get it down to the size of a quarter. Now shrink it to the size of a nickel. Then a dime. and finally about the size of pea, or maybe a BB.
And then wallah! My itch has disappeared. Aaaaahhhh. blessed relief.
The thing is, this spot drives me nuts! Now I'm guessing most people have their spot(s). I expect they are different - in different locations. I call my spot my "be with" spot. That's because the only way I can control it; well maybe the word isn't really control, maybe it's more like have some peace with it - the only way I can do anything that works is to "be with it".
I learned this exercise back in 1979 in the Est training. The example they used to demonstrate this exercise in the training was the example of how to disappear a headache. But my spot isn't a headache. It's an itch.
This itch occurs on the bottom of my left foot, just in front of and to the left of my heal bone. The thing about this itch is that it's not on the surface, as in, on the skin of my foot. It's like under the skin, inside my foot, maybe about say a quarter of an inch in. So it's not your everyday run-of-the-mill kind of itch.
My itch does temporarily respond to scratching, if the scratching is really hard, like using a screw driver, or maybe the bristle pad I have in the garage for cleaning the bottom of my shoes. When I say temporarily, I mean something in the order of maybe 30 seconds or so. Then it's right back under there.
But here's what drives me nuts about the spot. It seems to only happen during the middle of the night, most noticeably when I wake up and have to get up to pee. I come back to bed in a half stupor, hoping I can craw in and drop right back into that great dream I was having, when that dammed itch shows up.
Lest you think this is funny or ridiculous, knock it off. This isn't funny! This nemesis can and has kept me awake for a couple hours. I've sharpened the big toe nail on my right foot to a point so I can use it as a scratchier. I've tried a half dozen different long handled scratchers. And I've gotten up and visited that bristle pad out in the garage.
I went to the doctor to see if maybe they had some sort of magic potion that would grant me itch-freeness. No such invention! Each technique has given me momentary relief, only to be revisited by this deep internal itch shortly thereafter.
So finally, one night a few months back, I found myself doing that disappearing exercise. You know the one : "Locate that itch in your body. What shape is it? What color is it? Is it constant or does it fluctuate? Now be with that itch and begin to shrink it in size. Get it down to the size of a quarter. Now shrink it to the size of a nickel. Then a dime. and finally about the size of pea, or maybe a BB.
And then wallah! My itch has disappeared. Aaaaahhhh. blessed relief.
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