Sunday, September 26, 2010

We have just enough religion to make us hate, but not enough to make us love one another. Jonathan Swift

Today is Sunday.  It's a day that many people put on uncomfortable clothes, gather in large groups, nod in agreement to the people speaking loudly in front of them....... then forget everything they heard for the rest of the week.  Why? 

I am an atheist... of a sort.

It's not that I don't believe in God.  I do. 

What I have trouble believing in is man.  In particular, religious men.  I find it difficult to take people seriously who think they are able to call themselves great 'Christians' (or 'Jews' or 'Muslims' or what have you) simply because they went and got their attendance card punched. 

Too often organized religion gives a false sense of superiority.  When you boil it down, we are all children squabbling on the playground.  "My God is bigger than your God!"  The sad truth is, when all is said and done, they are the same God.  The divergences come from the trappings put on the universal message by men 'in the know'. 

The message is muddied by the messengers for various reasons.  It is perverted to justify why I'm better than you.  It gives validation for the actions of tyrants and dictators.  It is used as an invisibility cloak to hide sins.  Sometimes it is just simple misunderstandings that get repeated wrong over and over until no one knows what the original message was.

I like to think of religion as Baskin Robbins.  There are many flavors offered up for all to sample and choose from.  Some choose elaborate sundaes complete with three flavors, hot fudge, whipped cream, nuts and a cherry.  Some choose a single scoop of vanilla.  Some come for a scoop every week.  Some seek it out in times of stress.  And still others are content with just a taste from the little pink sample spoon.  But it's all ice cream.  I love ice cream, but the ice cream doesn't want me to go to war in it's name.  I also know a diet of only ice cream is not healthy for anyone.

God is the ice cream.  Enjoy responsible.

Friday, September 24, 2010

Listen to the MUSTN'T, child. Listen to the DON'Ts. Listen to the SHOULDN'Ts, The IMPOSSIBLES, the WON'Ts. Listen to the NEVER HAVEs, Then listen close to me-- Anything can happen, child, ANYTHING can be." Shel Silverstein

I have always loved this poem.  It lifts me up.  It tells me that it doesn't matter what everyone else says....I can do it.

There are always people out there saying what we can't do.  Often times those people live inside our heads.  It's easier to find reasons not to do something than to find the strength and courage to do them. 

Maybe it's fear that stops us.  The fear of the unknown, fear of failure, fear of disappointment.  But if you never try then you will never know, you have failed, and you will definitely be disappointed. 

Where would we be today if Galileo had believed that the Earth CAN'T revolve around the Sun?  If the Wright brothers believed that man COULDN'T fly.  If countless scientists thought that since men NEVER HAVE walked on the moon it was not worth trying.  Who knows what wonderful things are going to come simply because someone doesn't know it's IMPOSSIBLE. 

Anyone who tells you 'you can't' has probably never tried.  Don't let their fears become yours. 

Sunday, September 19, 2010

A lie can run around the world six times while the truth is still trying to put on its pants. Mark Twain

"The check is in the mail"....."No, that outfit does not make you look fat."...."And if I'm elected I promise ..."

People lie for many reasons.  Some times it is done with good intentions in mind.  No one wants to hurt a friends feelings by telling them they don't look good.  When asked 'How are you?', nine times out of ten you will answer 'Fine' simply because you do not want to burden them with the pain in your big toe.  Little white lies to spare others feelings are not bad.  Like the ostrich, it's a way to avoid something unpleasant and hide our head in the sand.

There are those lies that are told in order to save face.  Many a little kid has sworn their dog ate the homework.  'Lost' e-mails and busy signals explain why we didn't call back.  Any number of illnesses allow us to miss those boring social events.  Even these little mistruths are not too terrible.

When the lies are told to hurt others....that's were it becomes a bad thing.  We nudge a small snowball over the cliff when we spread lies out of fear, anger or ignorance.  That lie rolls along picking up others in it's wake and becoming bigger and bigger.  The lie takes on a life of it's own, taking out the one it was aimed at but also leaving a path of unintended destruction in it's wake.

Even more disturbing is when we start to believe the lies we started.  The lies we tell ourselves and build our perspective of the world on is like quicksand.  It looks solid, but it slowly sucks us down until it swallows us whole.  We begin to not recognise truth when faced with it because it isn't as comforting as the lie we have constructed.  I'm not saying I don't lie.  I lie just as much as the next guy.  But I am a firm believer in that the truth shall set you free too.

So in the name of freedom:

I've never known a dog to eat homework unless it had been smeared with something yummy like peanut butter and ostriches do not stick their heads in the sand.  That is a lie.

Sunday, September 12, 2010

"What most persons consider as virtue, after the age of 40 is simply a loss of energy." Voltaire

My son's birthday is this week.

He is 'middle' aged... a tween.  That awkward time where he is no longer a child but not quite old enough to do anything fun.  He can't wait until the day he can get a job, drive, and play 'M' rated games.  Simple goals that will come all too soon for me. 

I'm approaching my 'middle' age as well.  In a few months I will hit the big 4-O.  I'll be quite honest... I remember a time when I thought thirty was old, forty was ancient, and fifty was dead.  Those estimations have been pushed back extensively. 

As the years have gone by, we as a nation have changed our ideas of what youth and old age are.  Those who used to chant  'don't trust anyone over thirty' are now stating that sixty is the new thirty.  Although not aimed at me yet, I am bombarded by ads for any number of pills designed to reverse the tell-tale signs of age.  We dye our hair and get implants.  We tuck and trim and suck away the accumalation of years.  All in a vain attempt to remain forever young. 

But the young have just the opposite problem.  They are being made to grow up quicker and quicker.  Hormones in our livestock carry over into our food supply causing children to reach puberty at an earlier age.  I watch in horror at the baby pagents where children as young as two and three are dolled up in revealing outfits and made to sashey down a runway with enough makeup to put Tammy Fae to shame.  Reality shows bombard our children with the most sensational and the lowest of the low depictions of human behavior which these kids then emulate.

Why can't we ever be happy with how old we are?  Why do we idolize that mythic 'perfect' age?  I hope that I can grow old gracefully.  I'm in no hurry to go forward, but I'm not seeking a time machine that will return me my wasted youth. 

The trick is to enjoy the present and not fret about what will be or what used to be.  It's something I have to remember in regards to my son, too.  There are days when I wish he was small enough to cuddle. I remember building towns together with Lego's for him to later smash like a pint sized Godzilla. Those days are long gone. Today I have a preteen whose body is changing as quickly as his ideas about the world around him.  It's hard not to tell him to grow up when he is acting a little annoying.  I only hope that I don't try to hold him back or push him along that path too quickly.  Neither of us wants to be old before our time.

Which reminds me of another quote (lucky you...two for the price of one).  Bernard M. Baruch said, 'To me, old age is always 15 years older than I am."  So I will never reach old age. A-ha, I have found the fountain of youth. 

Thursday, September 9, 2010

“Children are like wet cement. Whatever falls on them makes an impression.”

We've all seen it before....Joe wuz here with a date....Bob + Sue = 4ever....or maybe its a leaf pressed down ...or an errant hand or footprint.  There is something about wet cement that calls out to us.  Makes us want to make our mark in it for eternity.  So it is with children, but also every person you encounter.  They are the newly poured sidewalk we pass by on our way through life. 

Sometimes the cement is too wet.  We take a stick or our finger and try to carve out something profound....but it doesn't stick.  The surrounding cement rushes back in to fill our tampering.  Maybe there is a faint echo of what we tried to convey. It's subtle, but it's there.

Sometimes the cement is almost set.  It takes some work to get the thick surface to give way.  Usually when it's this thick, you dislodge pieces and are left with a jagged and rough message.  Indelibly marked, but painful to walk on and may trip you up if your not careful.

Sometimes it may be something dramatic.  I think back to those black and white movies where someone falls into the smooth fresh surface, usually face down.  Cement flies everywhere, sloshing out of it's defined boarders and covering the person who fell.  It's usually comedic to an outside observer, but I don't think the person covered in muck or the sidewalk ever laughed.

This tampering doesn't stop once the cement is dry.  If you look down a sidewalk you will see cracks and uneven parts.  Trees grow and their roots break apart thoughts and ideas you thought were 'set in stone'.  Other ideas and plants grow in these cracks.  Sometimes they bloom into beautiful flowers.  Sometimes we spritz them with weed killer and try to pull them out.

Every person is a sidewalk in varying stages of set.  Children are the newest and freshest.  Even if we don't feel the desire to etch  things into who they are, we still leave a mark by our passage.  Hopefully we wont trip and fall into them.  But a gentle hand, a loving message...these do not mar the surface of their life but adds to the beauty of it.  Helping them to move forward, section by section.  Joining other sidewalks to complete a journey and turning corners when they come to them. 

Monday, September 6, 2010

"When in doubt wear red". Bill Blass

Maybe it was the on-again-off-again rain today.  Maybe it was the fact I couldn't button the first pair of shorts I put on this morning.  Maybe it is the fact that I haven't been 'gainfully' employed in nearly a year.  What ever the cause, I wrestled with loathing and self doubt today. 

It's a vicious spiral, self doubt.  You think you don't deserve good things.  You think you can't do anything...so you just don't try.  Since you didn't try yesterday, why bother today?  And so it goes until months have gone by and you have gone nowhere.  That's where I was today.   Nowhere. 

Sometimes you have to get your barrings.  You have to know where you are currently and where you want to go.  Tall enough order, but not nearly as hard as knowing who you are now and who you want to be when you get there.  I had to give that some thought.  It took a couple of bars of chocolate, but I think I came up with some answers.

Who 'I am' is a wife and mother, occasional creative spirit, and constant seeker of truth and beauty.  Who I want to be is a lover and teacher, perpetual creative spirit, and distributer of truth and beauty.  Not too far apart, so that's a good start.  In order to bridge over the present and land in the desired future, I have to change my own perceptions of who I am. 

'How do you do that?', I imagine you asking.  Well, you have to start small.  It's like throwing a small pebble into the water.  It makes a little ripple that makes another ripple, and another, and another.....  I start by paying a little more attention to my appearance.  I shave my legs, put on matching underware, spritz on some of my favorite perfume, or wear my favorite color.  Little things that no one else might notice, but I do.  It changes how I think about myself and how I move through the world around me.  I start the first ripple.

The next ripple might be as simple as looking someone in the eyes.  I am not saying the quick check to see if they are listening or counting how many crows feet they have.  Actually looking into someone's eyes and noticing how they dialate and the little flecks of color that radiate out of even the plainest pupils.  They eyes are the windows to the soul, some say.  Take a half a minute to actually ponder that while you peer in.  Ripple....

A breath comes next.  Not the normal unthinking in and out that oxinagates our blood, but a good deep cleansing breath.  One that fills every corner of your body going in and rushes out leaving you completely deflated before flowing back again.  Do that two or three times and you will feel the corners of your mouth lift with the inhale....that's a smile.  Ripple......

Show that smile as you move through the world.  Not the phoney smile we usually use to cover how uncomfortable we are.  This is a real smile.  It shows not only on your lips, but in your eyes and in the relaxed set of your shoulders and the tilt of your head.  This comfortable smile is contagious.  It infects those around you, makes them more comfortable too.  Ripple......

Before you know it, you are the person others want to be like.  And if they want to be like you, you must be pretty darn special.  And if you are special, you do deserve good things. 

Ripple, ripple, ripple....

Friday, September 3, 2010

“There are people who put their dreams in a little box and say, "Yes, I've got dreams, of course I've got dreams." Then they put the box away and bring it out once in awhile to look in it, and yep, they're still there.” Erma Bombeck

I love boxes.  I have several that I keep on my shelves. Large ones and small ones; wooden, ceramic, and stone. Some hold treasures ...but most are empty.  Gifts come in boxes.  They hold potential; anything can be inside. 

Important things are kept in boxes like jewelry, chocolates, and crayons.

But these things aren't suppose to be boxed for ever.  They need to be brought out into the light to meet their full potential.  Like jewelry, dreams need the play of light to make them sparkle.  Like chocolates, they are meant to be savored and rolled around on the tongue until they become a part of you.  Like crayons, dreams need to be engaged in the creation of something beyond themselves.  When taken out of the box and used, these things grow and become something more than they were originally.  They are useless if kept inside a box where they will never tarnish or be used up.

Don't get me wrong.  I still love boxes.  In a way, we are the boxes for our dreams.  It's good to have a few of them inside, but they aren't meant to stay there for ever.  Like a bird in a cage, we must let our dreams out to fly from time to time. 

Thursday, September 2, 2010

If you are seeking creative ideas, go out walking. Angels whisper to a man when he goes for a walk. Raymond Inmon

I came across this quote the other day while seeking some creative inspiration myself.  It got me to thinking about those special places that stir me.  Certain places seem to resonate with energy.  Those places usually do not have a computer. 

 I don't walk often, as my slightly less than perfect frame can attest, but when I do I feel a stirring inside me.  My senses are forced to awaken in a way that sitting in front of a computer doesn't demand.  It has to do with the wind and the sun and the rustle of leaves.  All those free floating ions that my encapsulated workspace shields from me  rush in and check me out.  Little wisps of thoughts discarded by others flutter into my mind and say "what if...".  Something akin to giddiness starts to bubble in my heart.  I feel lifted up and anything seems to be possible.  Call it angels, call it chi, call it inspiration.  Call it what you want.  It is a special feeling similar to falling in love.

Most of the time this feeling is found in natural surroundings, but every once in a while it is found in man made structures.  I've walked into churches that hit me with waves of emotion...and I've been in some that were nothing more than brick and mortar buildings with no soul.  I've been in buildings that vibrated and those that seemed to suck the energy out of me.  I think the difference is in the people that inhabit these structures.  Their own stores of energy and love and inspiration are overflowing or depleted and they then begin to give or take from their souroundings.

It's osmosis...the energy is seeking a balance.  Some of us need more balance and the inrush of energy is invigorating.  I'm so thankful that nature has so much to give....but I know I have to seek it.  If we compartmentalize ourselves and seal ourselves away from those energy filled areas, perhaps in a fear that they will drain us, then we also deprive ourselves from refilling our own cup.

I think I'll go for a walk...