Letter to a friend

To one of my oldest and dearest friends,

It has become apparent that the years have done more than grey us.  They have also jaded us, and, conversely, like a tumblers drum they have even worn off some of the rough edges.  And rough edges can be to our benefit at times.  Our sharp points can sometimes defend us from the barrage of unwanted threats that confront us in the world.  I know that the conventional wisdom is that a smooth stone has weathered the roughest rapids and is gentler and allows the water to pass without a rapid, but many a gentle ripple. But it can also make us complacent to the rushing waters.  There is a Buddhist thought that says (paraphrase) to go with the flow, but this is an incomplete thought.  It is chaos and fear that we must allow to flow smoothly over us while being diligent in kindness and compassion no matter what the cost.

As I look at our relationship over the years, we have shared little or no such chaos between us.  Certainly we have had our share in our own separate worlds, but now it seems as though outside influences have permeated a life of love and shared respect.  Neither of us were always perfect, nor were we saddled with the weight of the world’s issues, but current times are showing me that I still have some rough edges.  Edges that will not allow me to tolerate fear and tolerance toward hatred, bigotry, or religious persecution.

The saddest thing, from my perspective, is that we are not now divided by ideology, which I could embrace, were that the only issue, but we have embraced paths that are diametrically opposed.  One path that is filled with hatred, bigotry, and religious persecution.  And that is troubling to me because I do not see you as having any of those traits.  I know you as loving, compassionate, kind, and generous.  Yet you have aligned with a movement that, at its core, has none of those traits.

I will always have hope that the situation will right itself and that love will prevail, but I must also defend myself from the anger and hatred, and in turn not display that in my emotions and actions.  This is difficult for me, because in coming from a point of love I must compassionately dole it out to all, and not just those with whom I agree.

I remember when I was steeped in the Fundamentalist doctrine and would spout the book of Romans when it came to Homosexuality, Corinthians when it came to Adultery, and Timothy when it came to condemning Catholics.  And I would Judge others because of righteous indignation.  But I learned that you truly cannot “hate the sin” and “love the sinner.”  Because if you break it down biblically, we are all sinners and our sins are equally judged by God.  So it reverts to love in the positive, and eliminate the fears surrounding the negative.

I have difficulty in finding the source of all of this hatred and bigotry. I look at the past 8 years and I cannot see the origin of all the hatefulness towards the previous Administration.  Were there wrong turns?  Yes.  Were there things with which I did not agree?  Absolutely!  But in my heart of hearts am I better for it?  Without a doubt. 

People on a certain side of this new era we are rushing into have seen the past 4 years as something horrible.  As an affront to their existence.  And from what I can see the largest mass of people come from three places.  Ones who believe that whites are the true inheritors of the U.S.  The millionaires who did not quite make as many millions as they wanted, and the wannabes who believed that they didn’t make enough because they were held in check by a black president.  And while that may be over simplifying it, there is enough evidence for me to make such a claim.

But I left one group out, and on purpose, because I do not want to believe for a moment that it is a factor, but yet to deny it would be to blindly look away.  Men and women who believe that Jesus is their Lord and Savior, have battled against love and have taken up arms to defend the fear, bigotry, and hatred of others based on their beliefs, their lifestyles, and their countries of origin.  And this, for me is the tipping point (as if the rest wasn’t enough).

My dear friend, I have loved you unconditionally since we met.  Our lives have intersected in many ways over the years, and while we have not always been close in miles, my heart has been connected to you and has not, even for the briefest of periods, abated.  I know that there is nothing I can say or do to change your current ideology, but I can continue to love.  I cannot continue to be inundated by the hatefulness you have surrounded yourself.  I truly believe that this is not you at your core, but fear has crept in and taken you away.  I can only hope that it is but for the briefest of moments.

Perhaps there will once again be a time when we find ourselves walking the same path.  My wish for you is peace, love, and joy in the absence of fear.

G.

Dear Facebook Friend/Trump Supporter,

I awoke this morning with a new vigor.  Brought on by the fact that I have listened and macerated on the events of the last week and realized that there is no amount of justification that I can conceive for this current situation that has manifested.  And in watching events unfold I have made another stark realization.  I no longer have the stomach for angry interaction and blatant disregard for human decency.

I have told myself every positive thing that I can think of to warrant continuing in friendships that are not healthy for me.  “We have a history,”  “We have been friends since school.” “You are a good person.”  The list is long and not necessary for action at this point.  But the answer that I have come up with is that in order to actually be friends I have to actually break down what being a “friend” means to me.

I decided to start at the most common of places: The dictionary.

Miriam Webster defines friend in several ways.

1.       One attached to another by affection or esteem.

2.       One that is not hostile.

3.       A favored companion

There are other, more loose, definitions, but this was a good starting place for me.  First off let me say that for years many of you have been my friends without really knowing my political or religious beliefs.  You never asked, never seemed to care, or it just wasn’t important enough to make a deal out of it.  And similarly, I have not made a big deal of my beliefs politically or religiously.  To me it is just not that important.

So what exactly does it mean to be a friend in my eyes?

First and foremost we have to have something in common that brought us together.  And that cannot be a piece of software.  I saw something in you and you saw something in me that made us say, this person is cool I want to get to know them.  Now unfortunately what I have learned is that having gone to the same school is not necessarily an instant requisite for friendship.  I went to my first 12 years of school surrounded by Catholics and indoctrinated by the Catholic ideology.  And you would think that the goodness and charity of the Catholic faith would be a good foundation.  But what I have learned is that many (NOT ALL) of my Catholic classmates have become caustic, mean-spirited, and think that being Catholic is a free pass on the Right-wing Express!  Conversely, my next several years were spent steeped in Fundamentalist, Far-right leaning, religious education and the few friends that I still have from that experience are some of the most compassionate, thoughtful and loving humans I know.  It sometimes weirds me out thinking about it, but I have resigned myself that this is the way of the world.

As you can see, commonality is not in itself a reason to be friends, but it is one aspect.

Second, there has to be an amount of respect that is shared.  And that respect can be reflected in a willingness to listen to each other even when our beliefs do not match.  This is a tricky point.  Because in order for me to respect you, and vice-versa, we have to intelligently, articulately, and compassionately explain our beliefs.  And in order to do this, we have to be educated.  Educated in our beliefs.  We can’t be throwing up on Facebook because we saw a meme, that albeit may be funny, is at its core false, misleading, or hurtful to a whole group of people.  So often in the past year I have seen a reposting of an actual event (from a news source, activist group, or idiot) that takes a statement out of context or changes a word in a phrase that completely changes the meaning and makes it a complete falsehood.  It is then reposted by a ‘friend’ as a ‘real’ story.  And at first I go ‘omg, how horrible!’  And then I go to the source of the meme and find that it is not actually what happened, but a sensationalistic re-transcribing of an event with new verbiage to promote a certain skew of reality.  And suddenly, there goes respect out the window.  Because you did not educate yourself before posting it.  And I do not remove myself from this phenomenon, I have actually done it myself.  But I have also taken it down when I realized my mistake.

Third, you have to be able to state your case without being demeaning, disrespectful, condescending, belligerent, or berating of others.  If you express yourself with kindness and thoughtfulness towards those who may not share your beliefs, then I can accept that as an effort to educate rather than pompously placing yourself above others.

And lastly, we have to like each other even when our beliefs are diametrically opposed to each other.  And the only way for that to exist is for the other three on the list to be in full effect. 

I don’t ever want to be the person who unfriends someone for their beliefs because they are opposed to mine, but I damn sure will unfriend someone because they are acting in a hateful, disrespectful way towards me or others on my list.  If you want to be a belligerent asshole, then go be a belligerent asshole somewhere else.  Do me the favor of defriending me so that I at least know you have some integrity.  Because if you don’t?  I will do it for you.  And it doesn’t matter if we have known each other all of our lives, or had some common event that drew us together, or that we are aware of intimate details of each other’s lives.  If you decide to lash out and be that person that most people hate to see on Facebook, then ‘click’ you are gone.

I have decided to remove those negative people from my life, instead I am focusing on passionate people that intelligently know how to express themselves.

Now hear is the one caveat.  If you are a fervent sycophant of “The Donald” we are not likely to find common ground in being friends.  And that is not because I have a bent towards Clinton or other, former candidate.  It is because of the destructive nature of this individual.  And if you truly cannot see it, then you certainly do not fit in any of the previous categories.  Now notice that I did not say if you voted for “The Donald” or agree with him on some of his campaign issues.  That is a whole other post! Many good people were duped by his rhetoric.

I have always been tolerant, to a point, of other ideologies.  That is how I have grown through the ages.  But it is my opinion that I have always been able to Snope out the craziness of something and glean the sensibility from it.  Perhaps I am deceived, but I will continue to be deceived if it means caring about the world and its occupants more than the differences that tend to separate us.

We may have been friends, once.  We may continue to be friends.  But it is in your hands too!

I know that it sounds corny, especially coming from a closet introvert that can at times seem like he doesn’t like people all that much, but the truth is that I love people.  I just do not wish to surround myself with the ones that lack intelligence.

Peace.

Brutally honest...

Brutal, Honest, Raw.

This is in no way intended for purposes of instruction or advice.  When you see the word “you”  I am actually saying “Me” and when you see the word “We” I am actually saying “I”.  it’s often the way “we” phrase things that get us into trouble.

If someone says that they need to be brutally honest with you and then begin to run you through a ringer of what they perceive to be the truth about you, how do you feel?  With me it depends on how accurate they are in their portrayal.  Sometimes it hurts, sometimes it cathartic, sometimes you brush it off and tell yourself that “they really don’t know the real me!”

But in the realm of fiction versus truth the worst kind of brutal honesty is when the time comes when we have to confront ourselves and tell the truth.

Now since I am the one preparing to come clean with myself (yet blog it for anyone to read) I will first tell this tale…

Take a person from the media that has a light shining on them year after year.  Perhaps they have earned the reputation of being difficult, hateful at times, and a pretty nasty individual.  You have painted a picture of who you perceive this person to be.  Then, seemingly out of nowhere, this person goes to a hospital where victims of a shooting have been taken and visits each of the victims individually, taking pictures when requested, offering sincere compassion, and generally being a loving caring soul.

What now?  What has changed in your mind in that brief moment?  Is it perhaps you have not really known this person?  Does this person get a pass on his perceived persona?  If you are like me, you begin to see that while people are often guarded with themselves (be it celebrity or next door neighbor), there is often redeeming qualities that make this person special.

Now on the opposite side, there is a person who has worked over decades in the limelight, building relationships, getting kudos from every turn, helping other celebrities combat horrible demons and then suddenly falls victim to a demon of his own and in a moment of alcohol fueled rage spews angry hurtful speech and is thrust aside by the very community he has dedicated his life to support.

And Now?  How do you feel about that person?  Have you decided that what they said is a true picture of what they are feeling deep down inside?  Do you hold it over their head like a thunder cloud that follows them even through the brightest of days?

I ask you to think about this because I am one of those types.  Or both of those types.  Yet without the celebrity.

As recently as yesterday evening I fell victim to myself.  I took all of the emotions that I have been feeling over the past 12, plus 18, plus 5, plus 4, or 39 of the past 56 years, and exploded them into a house filled with tension. 

Yes, that’s right, I lost it.  And I would love to say that it was the first time, but that would be a lie.  It happens when I begin to feel that I have lost control over my own life.  When I begin to see that the choices I have made have left me personally dwarfed.  When I allow others to make my decisions for me and take no responsibility for allowing that to happen.  Basically, in that moment, I am not a good person.  Regardless of what you may believe about me.  Whatever the perception is you have about me is likely not accurate.  And the main reason for that is that I have had no desire for people to see me as I really am.  Human.  I have hidden the dark places of my soul and tried to fill them with light.  Positive affirmations, compassionate facebook posts, personal quotations bolstering support for many a cause.  Is it all a lie?  Am I attempting to be deceitful in my speech?  No, I don’t think so, but then I have never really spoken aloud about it.  At least not to anyone who would understand.

So back to the previous evening.  I have no earthly idea how to express myself in a way that gets my desired result.  My desired result is always an understanding of my feelings.  I have tried just about everything I can think of to tell someone how I am feeling just so that person is informed.  I often times just want to speak aloud and have the person with whom I am sharing this with just nod, say they understand, and ask what can I do?

I am horrible, however, with the immediate retaliative (new word) comeback that becomes lighter fluid on an already burning charcoal fire.  Because then it escalates and I become mean, hateful, spewing everything that has ever bothered me about the situation/relationship that I am in.  Any ounce of blame that I can find to cut through the deepest part of the soul will I fling until I suddenly wake up and realize that none of this can be taken back.  And no amount of “I’m sorry, or forgive me” will ever return the relationship back to a kinder, gentler time.

I have been this way my entire adult life.  The moment I began making decisions because I thought it was what was expected, rather than what I needed to do for myself.  And the 3 main principals or recipients of this hatefulness have been the three women with whom I have spent the majority of my adult life.  Thus the 12, 18, 5 comment earlier.

Now while I understand the foundation of the meaning of the concept of love, I have realized that my idea of love was not the same as those with whom I have been in relationship.  I am not going to tell stories because it would not be fair to them, but I will say that I have attracted people with issues of their own.  Oh, I know, everyone has issues, and that is true, but I have attracted people with almost the exact same issue, but with different back stories.

Do not misunderstand me, this is in no way a reflection on them.  Like me, they have kind and gentle spirits, a desire to love and be loved, and similarly strong spirits. 

I know you have heard the analogy of a square peg, round hole?  That is not the case.  It is more like two square pegs trying to get into the same round hole at the same time.

Nonetheless, I have found out the truth.  Okay, I have known the truth for some time, but I have been reluctant to speak it out loud or to share it with anyone, but something happened last night that made me realize that I cannot continue to hurt the people close to me.  Because in a moment of anger and self-imposed desperation, I cannot control my tongue.  I literally (okay not literally) become the angel of darkness himself.

So, here it goes…

I am broken.  I am living out a scenario that I had never planned for my life.  I didn’t go to the school I wanted to go to, I didn’t become the military pilot that I had dreamed of, I didn’t become the actor on television or movies that I had envisioned.  No instead, I did the exact opposite.  And of course the first thing many of you (assuming that anyone reads this at all) will say is that is the past, the future is still unwritten.  But I think we have all seen enough of those people who never quite come to grips with their past and use it as fuel for a re-entry into life.  I know that there have been some, but at this point I cannot see myself as one of those.  So I am stuck.  Admittedly by my own devices.

I have let true friends go by the wayside and replaced them with empty, meaningless things.  I have squandered life and do not feel as though I can use any of the parts to build something better.  And worst of all, I have constantly done things because I wanted to help when it was not helping them or me.  Even in my work I have given and given and accepted that it was best to do even though I was not getting paid compensation for the ‘over and above.’  Don’t get me wrong, there is a certain amount of ‘over and above’ that is good an honorable, but when fear sets in and you think that it is necessary to continue in a working relationship, then you have devalued everything that you are and have.

I really do not know what the answer is, but I had to get this off my chest.  I had to put this out there so that I could in some small way, find the path to begin a remodel in my life.  The past is done.  My only hope for the past is that I can leave it behind me without too much of a dark stain.  That I can let it go with love and compassion and not bring it forward with me.  Make better choices, move forward in a direction that is good for me.  Find a way to share my feelings and fears with someone I trust.

Attempt to right the ship.  So back to the stories of earlier on…

Whether you saw me as the first example, or the second, I am what I am.  I am imperfect.  I at times am very angry, and most times I am very understanding.  And most of my anger has been caused by my own decisions, not by the actions or words of others.

I am searching for peace.  Peace in my own mind (and that IS a double entendre).    

If you took the time to read this….Thank you!

The Great Santa Cruz Adventure

When you are a parent one of the toughest things to try to explain to a child is why they have to have certain rules and responsibilities.  Why you have to give them boundaries.  It is in our human nature, left unopposed, to push as far past the established rules as we can.  Testing our limits, our own and those imposed upon us.  And when left to our own devices we oft times learn lessons the hard way, or in some cases learn lessons while narrowly escaping by the ‘skin of our teeth’.

Now the following account is true.  The only thing that is not accurate is the date.  Time is so fleeting and when I was recounting this I had a difficult time pinpointing the exact day, month, and year.  However, I am sure there is someone still alive that will remember something about this particular event.

It was a cool, dry, windy fall day, a Saturday as I remember.  Doug and I were making a day of it on the open desert.  Now this was not unusual for me to be off in the desert by myself on any given day in the year, as long as school was not in session, but for an 8 year old it was still pretty amazing.  Doug on the other hand was at least 2 years my junior and possible 3.  My memory was that he was 5 years old, but definitely not over 6.

Looking over the terrain of our family dwelling on Abington road our 5 acre parcel was backed up to a deep wash (or dry river bed) that served as a culvert for the summer monsoons.  During the rainy seasons it often filled with rushing water and caused havoc in the low lying areas for residents wanting to get home after a long day of work.  But for my young neighbor, Doug, and myself it served as the path to adventure.  For you see the wash wandered through the desert, behind houses, under Silverbell road, and out to the mighty Santa Cruz River.

The Santa Cruz was a respite from the heat and ran slow and shallow at our end of the city.  In fact it is the only place it ran at all.  East of the city it was as dry as a bone.  But a short half mile from our house it was a place that kids went to play.  Older kids generally.  There was even a high point in the sand where you could jump off safely into the water from a protruding mesquite tree.

So on this one particular Saturday, I asked Doug if he wanted to head on down to the river where we could explore, swim, and even cook hotdogs by the river.  This was going to be epic!  Two kids, that honestly should not have been left unattended, heading out into the desert for some fun!  Carrying a pack of hotdogs, a pack of buns, and a bottle of soda we headed out.

During the trek we would look for interesting items, things that had been rushed down the mountain is a desert rain storm.  We found fossils, saw rattlesnakes, handled horned toads, and saw the occasional tarantula. 

When we arrived at the river we set up camp.  This consisted of clearing out some brush in the middle of 2 dunes created by flash floods and digging down enough to be protected by the breezes that often came up on a fall afternoon.  After getting the area prepared we left our foods and headed for the area that rose above the river.  Over the years people had brought chairs, a table, and old wire spool left by the power company and even a grocery cart.  Today it would look similar to a Hollywood depiction of what a homeless camp looked like, but back in 1968 I did not even know of the term homeless person.  In all of the times we had wandered there over the years we never saw anything that would make us nervous or scared to be there alone.  But then again, we were 8 and 6 years old.  Almost independent!

So Doug and I spent a little time having fun at the “fort” area and even waded a bit in the water.  But not for long.  The walk through the desert and the playing in the water soon meant that our bodies were needing nourishment.  Time for food!

We walked back over to where we had left our provisions and I dug a deep hole with plenty of sand up the sides so that we could start a small fire in a pit.  Doug went and gathered a few dried mesquite sticks which would make the perfect firewood for hotdogs.  A lovely mesquite flavor which of course is the preferred wood of any grilled meat in the southwest.  We also found a couple of long sticks that we could use to cook our hotdogs.  And since I forgot to mention it earlier, I also grabbed pickled relish and mustard from the cabinet at home.  Who am I kidding, even at 8 I knew the important condiments for a successful hotdog roast.

Doug and I wolfed down a couple of dogs each. And were satiated.  But being an unpredictable fall day in Arizona the wind began to pick up a little and it actually got chilly.  We hunkered down beneath the dunes to protect ourselves from the wind, but it was obvious that we were going to need to stoke the fire, or head back to the house.

I decided to stoke the fire.  I say it was me, not because it was or wasn’t, but because I don’t see Doug at 5, or no more than 6, deciding that on his own.  The fire started burning nicely and providing some good heat, at least if you sat really close to it, but as the coals began to get really hot the ash started to twirl in the pit.  And the fire, causing its own breeze began to lift the embers into the air. 

Surrounding the sand dunes on the banks of the river were tall, dry grasses.  Some even taller than the 5, and not more than 6, year old as well as the 8 year old.

I remember specifically the culprit.  Still to this day I can see it in my mind.  A tiny, glowing ember rising out of the fire and floating across the air and over the dune.  And even at 8 years old I knew that this was nothing but bad!

Instantly the brush on the other side of the sand caught fire.  At first Doug and I tried to throw sand on it and hit it with our jackets, but it spread quickly and was soon out of control.  Doug and I looked at each other and decided that it was time to run.  Partly because of the danger of the fire surrounding us and partly because we did not want to be there when the authorities got there.

My memory is not completely clear here, but I believed we grabbed the remainder of our things and leftovers and headed back toward the house through the wash.  Luckily the wind was blowing westerly and took the fire down the river.  It was also lucky that there were no homes or property that could be damaged.

As we got to the bridge on Silverbell Road that passed over the wash we climbed to the top and made it to the road.  We looked out over the trees and could see the smoke and even the occasional flame as the fire spread down the river.  In the distance we could hear the sounds of sirens and got to a high point along the road and watched as firetruck after firetruck pulled up on the scene.  In a short period of time there were 5 trucks and still the sirens of more coming down the road.  The problem was that they were on the other side of the river.  They would have to attempt to put it out from across the way.

Doug and I knew that the situation was out of our control and did not want to be anywhere near the area.  So even though we wanted to watch to see what happened we quickly went back to the house. 

Now I don’t know if we ever discussed not telling anyone, or made a pact to keep it secret, we never talked about it.  And we never had hotdogs at the river again.  Of course we did go back a few days later to see exactly what damaged was caused, and luckily, with the exception of some scorched grass, there was no apparent damage.  Our only hope that no wildlife was injured.

We didn’t know enough to check the news or to read the paper to see if it was covered, but we knew it happened, and that was enough for us. 

Needless to say, that was my last attempt to mess with fire in an uncontrolled environment.  Well, there was this ONE time…

Oh, and for those of you who are not familiar with the Santa Cruz river around the area of Silverbell and Ina road, just east of the river is the water treatment plant.  Come to find out the reason the river only ran at this end of the city?  Runoff!

Religion and politics?

I have no wisdom, but what time has afforded me.  I have searched and studied and poked and prodded, and made my own conclusions, but what bothers me now, and no heavenly or earthly wisdom can clarify, is why Christian Americans think that they are above the law?  And I am not talking about man's law, I am writing of God's Law.

Mans desire to delve into the seediness of politics is above my understanding, not from a civic nature, but a biblical one.  When push came to shove Jesus said, regarding the politics of the day, "Render unto Caesar the things that are Caesars and unto God the things that are Gods."  The esteemed biblical scholar and commentator, Matthew Henry, suggested that the meaning of Matthew's verse was that attempting to argue against the politics of the land was futile and takes Christians away from the task at hand and that is Worshipping God.  Now throughout the bible certain men and women were called out to take a stand and hold the line for God, but the masses were admonished to Worship the Lord with all their Heart, Soul, and Might.  Now it seems to me that this would take extreme focus and dedication to accomplish this fete.  So why is there an Egyptian style Exodus from this teaching to stand on a wall and defy the government?  Well the most obvious reason is the fight over a woman's right to choose what is best for her body.  The idea, from the perspective of the "Right" is that abortion is murder.  And while I am not even remotely qualified to participate in that debate, I find the focus to be inordinate.  And here is why:  As humans, Christians, Jews, Muslims, Buddhists, Pagans, agnostics, atheists, and whatever other religious or philosophical leanings abound, at the core of all of it is personal responsibility.  And that is extremely biblical, moral, Buddhist, etc, etc.  And also what seems to be lacking most.

The idea that your moral code is to be respected and revered by anyone other than yourself is just ludicrous.  For one thing, to focus so strongly on a topic of abortion is to detract from many other events and dilemmas that occur across the land.  Abortion?  Oh my no!  Gun regulation to curb violence and even accidental death?  No way no!  Starving children...here and abroad?  Eh, not my problem.  Climate change due to rampant pollution?  God is coming soon, no need to worry!

Obviously I could go on and on about injustices as seen by every type of religious or spiritual group, but again, it comes down to personal responsibility.  Do you remember the parable of the mote?  Jesus said you are trying to pull the splinter out of your neighbor's eye when there is a beam in your own.  Or in other words, you have your own problems that you refuse to deal with so don't go trying to fix everyone else.  Fix yourself.  This is VERY important, folks.  So get this.  Hear this!  The reason the world is in the trouble that it is in is because each of us is too busy butting into everyone else's business and not taking care of our own.  Paraphrasing here, but Jesus said let people see your light when they look at you, don't shine it in their face when they are trying to find their own path.  Light their path.  It is by your deeds that you will be known.  And the way to encourage others is not by telling them how they are evil and need to come to Jesus, but give them something to look at that they will see and want to emulate because it is Love.

Do you believe that you are more powerful when you are against something or for something?  Personally I believe that a soul is more effective when they are for something good rather than against something bad.  Because what we focus on we attract.  If your focus is on the good, you will begin to attract that goodness into your life.  And for those of you who think that is heretical and anti biblical, I encourage you to re-read it.  The Bible that is.  "as a man thinketh, so is he!"  What is in your heart will be made manifest in your life.  So you see warring, bitterness, hate, disgust, disdain, and a critical world out there?  Turn that inward and look into your heart, you will find it there also.

If you believe in the sanctity of life, live it in your heart.  It is your right.  It is even your right to believe that others who disagree are not right.  But you have to judge yourself on your convictions.  And if you deem it necessary to judge others...judge them by their convictions.  Live what you believe.  Believe what you live.  For the best way to begin a change in the world is to begin a change in your own heart.

Expectations...

When facing mortality in this life it is difficult to be of a cheerful spirit, and that is especially true when that very mortality hits close to home.  I am currently coming off a difficult week.  Difficult in that the emotions surrounding death still have a heavy effect on this soul.  As I write this I think of Dr. Richard Ganzer, a man that was an influential part of my life for much of my teenage years.  Recently diagnosed with stage 4 lung cancer, he lies waiting for the inevitable of all life.  And this on the heels of the passing of a young man and close friend.

My wife and I drove to North Carolina to attend the memorial of Andrew Schultz.  A young man who lived life with expectations.  And certainly expectations of a long and happy life.

During the memorial Andrew’s father, Terry, spoke to the crowd about Andrew.  He told a story of the first time that Andrew and his brother, Benjamin, got the opportunity to snorkel in Hawaii.  Upon hitting the beach the boys donned their snorkel gear and disappeared into the water for an hour and a half.  When finally coming out of the water, his dad recalled the comment that Andrew made… “It was everything that I had hoped it would be.”   Andrew had expectations…and they were realized.

As we left the memorial and headed down the mountain in the shuttle provided by their local church it hit me.  We get what we expect.  We receive in accordance with how we think.  People that speak of how wonderful life is have an expectation that life will be wonderful.  People that speak of how hard and difficult life is expect as much.

Here is the funny thing.  Everyone of you that is experiencing a difficult time in life will likely turn up your nose and say bull-shit!  And everyone that is living the good life will likely say “Right On!” 

This is something so simple and so true to my own personal experiences that I find it difficult to believe that it is only germane to my life. 

I am not talking mysticism, heresy, or anti-biblical teachings.  Contrary.  From Buddhism to Christianity, to new age thought, it is reiterated over and over again.  All spiritual and religious teachings have the same edict expressed in one way or another:  As a Man thinks, he is.

What you believe about yourself, your life, your surroundings, your world is the truth for your life.

So for the skeptics, just think for a moment.  Do the ‘what if’ dance with me.  What if you decided to perceive life with a new perspective?  What if you decided that the troubles that you have had in your life were over.  What if the negativity was gone, and that personal achievement and success were part of your present and future self.  Would things change overnight?  I can’t say that it will or that it will not, because for some of you it may be a quick as flipping the light switch for illumination.  For some it may require rewiring the switch. I believe it is only a matter of how far ensconced you are into a life that has, so far, been exactly what you have expected.

I, personally, have never thought of life as being difficult.  I have experienced some wild things in my life that came to me without effort or without much forethought.  And it is what I have expected to happen for me.   But I think part of the “trick,” if you could use that word, is that I have never expected anything different.  It is just how I believed.  So I have never had to change my perspective.  But now, in this time, I have to decide that while it has been great and easy, in order to have more, I have to expect it.  I have to incorporate the next level into my everyday thinking…yet without thinking about it.  Just expecting.

I, for one, am game!  I am going to broaden my expectations.  So that I can be the proof of my beliefs.  So that all can see the profit in believing in a greater, more successful life.

It begins today!  And to quote Stuart Smiley, “I’m Good Enough, Smart enough, and Doggone it people like me!”

You, also, are good enough, smart enough, and are loved by many!

Compassion, The path to...

No Cross Word Has Ever Been Rewarded With A Smile

No Punch Has Ever Been Received With Gratitude

Spare the rod and spoil the child.  Of course this is the Christian way of raising a child.  The belief is that you instill a discipline into a child that will cause a Pavlovian response when confronted with making a decision that might be contrary to the will of others.  In effect mind control.  Now making the point that this is not necessary will have many condemning such words as heresy or stupidity.  But I say to you that in nature there is always a way that opposes conventional wisdom (and by conventional I mean a standard that we have adopted through tradition rather than through learning).

A perfect example of this is the old way of training horses to be bridled and sadled.  In the past (even as recent as 20 years ago) a horse trainer would implement ropes to tie up a horse, whips to discipline a horse and spurs to command a horse to his will.

But then came along a man, then a boy, who would sit in nature and watch the horses in their natural habitat.  He would document all of their interactions and learn how they communicate with each other and from that he developed a process where the ropes, spurs and whips were no longer needed.  He communicated with the horses using their own language.  With much success, John Lyons is now noted as being one of the tops in the field of horse training.  No beating, no coarse instruction, but teaching by establishing trust rather than fear.

“But Humans are different!”

Yes, and no.  We have assumed, that because of tradition, the necessary way to bring  up a child is through discipline and punishment, but we are just touching the surface of our abilities to do it differently.  We are just now bothering to take the time to learn the true language of a baby, tot, or young adult.  We have raised generations in violence and disguised it as discipline. 

Violence will not end violence.  It will not bring about peace.  That can only be done with compassion and understanding through open communication.

We must learn Old ways to achieve New and different results.

Glorifying and extolling violence through tradition will just further the course we are on.

Find love, compassion, and healing.