The Balance of Life or It's Scary Up Here

We hear a lot these days about getting our lives balanced.
Balancing time, energy and money between all the things we each need to accomplish, daily, weekly…..
When I visualize balance, two pictures come to my mind.
First is a tightrope walker, perilously inching from one skyscraper to another.
Now my wife will attest to the fact that any home projects requiring the use of more than a, two step, stepladder, will be performed by someone other than me. I’m just not good with heights. So this first example leaves me uncomfortable. It also appears to be a strenuous task, one requiring physical skill, strength and extreme concentration: Wiggling, leaning, shaking… whew….definitely not my deal.
The second image is of Lady Justice, scales perfectly balanced. A much more serene feeling is enjoyed with this visual. What I notice however is that nothing is happening, no movement in either direction, therefore no growth.
Using these examples and many things I have read, I personally have replaced the word balance with harmony.
It seems to me that a vigil to keep our lives in balance will result in a life time of hard work and juggling each area: physical, financial, spiritual, emotional and relationships. How long can we keep all these in the air?
My life has never been balanced, at least not for any length of time. Has yours? There are times when major attention is placed on a work project, in a time of illness our focus is on healing and the other areas take a back burner. Use your own example, but you get my thought.
There are going to be times when it is critical that we be out of balance. Sometimes we need to step off the wire and lay down some of our juggling act. And I believe that is ok, if we are in harmony! Isn’t that a beautiful word? Harmony is an effect produced when different things come together without clashing, different things, yet they are in accord and agreement.
When the orchestra plays, it is the harmony of all the instruments that moves us.
Perhaps the horns take the lead, loud and proud, next the strings forte`. Can you hear the violins? Then the timpani drums crescendo carrying us to heights we had not dreamed possible! Our hearts racing, our beings filled with emotions…we simply can’t find words to express.
What if all they played were booming base notes, or the same notes again and again? That would get old rather quickly I would imagine. If each section played with equal intensity, if there were no variations, where would that leave our emotions? I can’t feature being moved to tears or leaping to my feet in ovation. It is in the harmony, the complimentary modification in rhythm, tune and key, that we find fulfillment, joy, peace, life.
Which sounds best to you? Do you want to spend your days juggling, struggling to balance ‘on the wire’, or to embrace a harmonic arrangement of life?
So what do you think?
Have I made a good case?
Personally…..
I’m calling someone to clean the gutters and I’m going to the concert.
Want to come along? There is room on the front row.

Writing

"There is nothing to writing. All you do is sit down at a typewriter and open a vein." ~Red Smith

H1N1: The Swine Flu

The headlines cover it daily, H1N1. Case numbers, vaccine availability, death tolls. It is a legitimate concern.
But did you know that there is a more rampant disease plaguing the planet? It is a malady which affects millions of victims, daily, one which the mainstream media chooses to ignore. I have seen nothing on this from the World Health Org. The health and financial effects of this contagious virus are immeasurable. You may catch it anywhere, at work, in the market place, even in your home.
Are you at risk? You may be, and not even realize it.
So what is this threat?
It is: The Whine Flu!
Epidemic in scale, Whine Flu has invaded our society with little notice. It has quietly crept in and infected us, spawning the carrier gene. Word by word, thought by thought, action after action we unwittingly propagate more and more of this insidious affliction.
It is more deeply ingrained than one might believe, at first observation.
Brain researchers say that we have about 60 thousand thoughts per day. Or approx one thought every 1.5 seconds. Wow! No wonder we’re tired! These scientists also believe that about 95% of those thoughts are the same ones that we had the day before. And finally 80% ( 39,000*) of all those are negative. These are referred to as ANTS: Automatic Negative Thoughts. As these ANTS persevere in their daily tasks (you know how persistent ants are) the affliction becomes deeply rooted. It, I believe, becomes a habit.
“Spend five minutes complaining and you have wasted five. Continue this and they will soon haul you off to a financial desert and there let you choke on the dust of your own regret.” ~ Jim Rohn
Is there a remedy for this scourge, this habit? Thankfully, yes there is. And that, in itself, is the cure.
Thankfulness and Gratitude:
If we were to take those 60 K thoughts per day and begin to replace them with Positive thoughts, thoughts of the innumerable advantages and benefits we each posses, we will have revealed the antidote. We will not only embark on our personal journey of healing we will simultaneously acquire the marvelous carrier gene of joy.
We must also limit our exposure to the Whine Flu virus. You see, these carriers won’t be wearing white medical masks so:
Ask yourself these questions that Mr. Rohn has provided.
· Who am I around?
· What have they got me saying, doing, reading?
· Where have they got me going?
· Who do they have me becoming?
· And finally, Is that OK?

I am delighted to announce that my personal case of Whine Flu is in remission. I was at one point a deadly carrier. I am ever on alert for symptoms of its recurrence. Daily doses of the cure are required. Think of it as bathing. Once in a while just don’t cut it.
Attitudes are contagious. Is yours worth catching?
Personally and collectively we can defeat this foe.
Are you up to the challenge?
I believe you are.
I believe in you.
Do you?

That's good, No that's Bad....

Have you ever heard this little tale? Think I first heard it on Hee Haw!

One guy states something, the next guy says That's good. And tells him WHY it is good. Then the first guy says No that's Bad. And gives a reason that it could be bad. Back and forth, on and on it goes. This clever narrative actually, I believe, reveals a handy tool on this Thanksgiving week. The other side of the coin.

We always hear to count our blessings and that we should. But what about those things that are just not good? Could we discover something great in them? If we tried? OK you say no way I could do that. But just pretend that you could...we are just pretending. So I know you really can't, but if you could what would you find?

Bills! There's a good one we can all relate too. Those lousy, stinking, never ending, ever increasing bills.

Electric bill is to high. But isn't it something we rely on most everyday with very few failures?

With the touch of a button we control the comfort of our homes. Another touch and and we have entertainment from around the world in our living rooms, in color.

Did you every notice how dead a house feels when the power is out. Electricity seem to bring a house to life, to me.

Well then the water bill!

"Never miss the water till the well runs dry." I have heard that since a kid and have found it to very true. How about you? We enjoy clean, pure, drinkable water in several rooms and never give it a thought. In third world countries they may have to walk for miles, carrying it home in pots, pans and plastic bags.

Well times are tough! There just isn't enough money to go around!

Here's a fact that may have gotten past you.

If you live in the U.S.A. , on welfare, you are in the top 10% income bracket in the world.

How's your health? Terrific I hope.

"Health is the greatest wealth." ~Emerson

We are more fortunate than we realize.

Play the That's Good That's bad game. See what you actually have that you can give thanks for...not just this week, not just Thursday, but the other 364 days as well.

I'm personally thankfull for each of you... and I'm sure you are for me too. See there, your list has already started. ;-)

I wish each of you a healthy and happy Thanksgiving.

Snow

Having just experienced our first snowfall of the '09-'10 season, my thoughts returned to last December .

A Californian for the past few decades, my sister has lost actual remembrance of what winter is like. She relishes the rare snow flurry they get in the high desert.

Back to Christmas lights and carols, Currier and Ives scenes and the Noelco guy riding the electric razor over the snow covered hills, her memories blissfully drift.

Last December she took pen and recorded one of these varnished memories during a California snow.

Following is her account of this event. Below that, is my mid-western rebuttal.

Guess it is one of those things we will have to agree to disagree....

Love you Sis!


The Snow Fell

by: Alana Pratt

The snow fell
and it was magical…
I felt like a child again.
I ran from window to window
Wanting to take it all in.

The snow fell
and it was magical…
Flakes so lovely and white,
I awoke to the wonder of it,
It continued into the night.

The snow fell
and it was magical…
It took me to days long passed,
of growing up in a simpler time,
when the pace was not so fast.

The snow fell
and it was magical…
But what about those without mirth,
whose lives are affected by hatred and war?
I prayed for peace on earth.

******************************

The Snow Fell

a rebuttal from the mid-west.
by Marc Johnson

Then snow fell
it was tragical
Oh no, not this shit again.
I ran from window to window.
Why did it have to begin?

The snow fell
it was tragical
Flakes and drifts, what a fright.
I awoke to the plight if it.
It must have snowed all damned night.

The snow fell
it was tragical.
It took me to days long since passed.
When I was a but little guy
with snow clear up to my ass.

The snow fell
it was tragical.
And what about those without mirth?
I figure they're getting this same shitty storm.
What a vacation down south would be worth.

Permanent Purpose: The Butterfly Effect

“When you know that everything matters—that every move counts as much as any other—you will begin living a life of permanent purpose. A life of permanent purpose will make you a better parent, a better spouse and a more valuable friend. Your productivity and financial success will soar to new heights while the old days of uncertainty, doubt, and depression fade into the past.” Andy Andrews

This morning, I read this quote for the very first time. It is from the book:

The Butterfly Effect ~ by Andy Andrews.

This inspired me, filled with spirit.
Like many of you, I have long wondered what my purpose in life is. What am I to do or share that could possibly, positively, affect my family, my friends, co-workers and even the world? What special talent do I possess? What gift do I have to share? And then, in Andy's few simple words it all became radiantly clear.

Life is my purpose! 

Every moment, every breath, thought and action are my purpose, my gift. Each equally important for me and those with whom I share this world, for the generations to come.

In just the last 30 minutes, since reading this quote, I have accomplished several mundane tasks, things that normally fulfill my identity of Chief Procrastinator. But that was changed, like turning on a light, instant illumination. Each task was performed with love and thoughts of how it affects my wife and our relationship, how that affects our children, our friends and now you. 

I almost did not write this 'Rambling'. Doubt was creeping in, as it often does. Should I share and expose my feelings, my thoughts. 

Now I have my answer.
Of course.
This, and every choice I make, is my purpose, my Permanent Purpose.
I, for one, will now choose more wisely. For I now know that every choice matters, for all of us.
Here now flutter the gentle murmur of the butterflies' wings, from my purpose to yours.

What will be your choices today, tomorrow...?
What will you share with all of us?
What will your purpose mean, for the world?

When Things Go Wrong

Stumbling, staggering and with one mighty crash, she hit the dirt.
Whisky bottle still clutched in her hand, there she lay.
She was a short but large woman donning a misshapen felt hat, long yellow yarn wig stringing from beneath it.
We knew we were in trouble.
Only moments before all had seemed well. We had our rodeo ambulance prepared, last minute details were covered, and our guest helper for this evening’s performance had been instructed and given a western hat to wear. Where had he gone? Had he stolen our hat? The announcer was giving us our cue to enter the arena and begin the clown act. Hundreds of thoughts and scenarios rushed my brain when the horrible truth was recognized. We had, once again, been set up.
A rodeo clown’s job can be very lonely. Even while surrounded by hundreds of spectators and cowboys it is an extremely solitary feeling when you are one on one with a fighting bull. A much worse feeling is when your clown act is falling apart before your eyes, and it hasn’t even started. I always 'sweat' the clown acts more than the bull riding. You see the crowd expects the bull riding to be unpredictable.














The acts are to be funny and entertaining. Hard to do when your plan is in shambles, and it was! The saboteurs? The stock contractor (our boss) and a handful of his agents. Hard to figure, isn’t it?
The usual plan was to have a guest assistant go into the arena, fall down and need medical attention. Our choice was always slight of stature for reasons that will become apparent. We would then come in to save the day in our rodeo ambulance.
This evening our victim, a 100 pound lad, had been kidnapped and replaced by the above mentioned, yarn haired, immovable 300 pound lass.
Red lights flashing, siren wailing we circled the arena and the rotund casualty.
The first couple of gags went OK.

As the fire crackers died down and the smoke cleared, Dave, the announcer questioned:
“Are you qualified to do this?”
“Of Course” was my reply. “I’m a member of the AMA, The American Malpractice Assoc.”

Dr. Marcus Welfare was my name. My able partner, Dr. Ben Krazy.
Shortly after our arrival I discovered that the driver’s door would not open. Screaming kicking and jerking I tore the door off its hinges and threw it away.
Dr. Ben then carried the ambulance door around with him as a preventative measure. If he got too hot he could roll down his window.
I had retrieved my Dr.’s Bag ( IE: golf) and was driving a few golf balls when we were reminded of the seriousness of the situation.
Rushing to her aid I attempted to straddle and administer artificial respiration.
Straddling was not working so I draped one leg over and did my best.

It became apparent, in our professional diagnosis that, she would need transported for additional care. This is when the real problems started.
In a sprint to the ambulance we retrieved our stretcher and placed it beside the patient.
The first and second attempt to pick up this creature proved futile. Our unrestrainable laughter was not an asset. After a quick physics calculation I determined that she should be rolled onto the gurney.
A slight mis-calculation rendered her face down and after rolling her back to the arena floor we adjusted the distance by half a roll and there she

was, face up! A triumph which we briefly

celebrated.

We then realized that she and the stretcher would need to be loaded into the back of our transport. Efforts to drag the two in that direction were met with dismal consequence.
Then we had an ah ha moment! We would drive the vehicle within hoisting range.
At full speed the ambulance approached and with a thunk thunk ran over the patient and stretcher. (Not to worry that was part of the original plan)

“Oh my God” Dave screamed!
I calmly surveyed the results and proclaimed; “She don’t look so good.” Looks like she was run over by a truck.”

The valiant struggle to load would now begin.

Grunts and groans were to little avail. After several ardent tries our best endeavors had achieved in barely placing one end of the bulging stretcher on the tailgate. Our energy levels nearing absolute zero, we be began to flog our yellow yarned victim with our hats until she finally crawled in, under her own power.
While catching our breath we scrambled back into the vehicle for our exit and…
“It won’t start!” I proclaimed.
“What do you mean it won’t start? We have an emergency here.” Dave scolded.
“It won’t turn over” was my reply.
And with that Dr. Ben proceeded to jack up the vehicle to perform repairs.
‘A loose nut’ was his analysis. Dave had some disparaging remark about more than one loose nut, or something to that effect
All the while I am explaining what a professional and a master of many arts Dr Ben claims to be.
When at that exact moment the car, patient inside, rolls over onto its side.
“Now look what he’s done.” Dave criticizes.
In my ever optimistic view I respond;

“Things are looking better! He’s got it turning over.”
And with the very last ounce of strength and determination we had, the ambulance and extra 200 pounds of cargo was rolled back to its wheels.

Physicians back in the cockpit.... one spark from the ignition, an explosion of a 3 inch bomb, fireworks rocketing out of the roof and overloaded tires rubbing the fenders…Dr's Welfare and Krazy and the best sport I have ever met exited the arena to the cheers of an entertained crowd, rodeo cowboys on their hands and knees in front of the bucking chutes and the smiles of a few satisfied saboteurs.

So are we able to glean a lesson from our ‘Medical Malady’?

· Things don’t always go as planned… go on anyway.
· Change from the routine can be good.
· And picking up some girls may be more difficult than you might think.

The Goose with the Golden Egg

September 7th 2009. Another Labor Day has arrived, a day to honor the American Worker.


The individual citizen, each laboring at their chosen task is the very fiber of this of this place we call America. We have rolled along here for 233 years, growing, expanding, developing and sharing, unprecedented in recorded history.

Building on the beliefs and values of the founding fathers We The People, have raised and nurtured our very own Golden Goose. And what a Goose she is!!
I do not submit that she is perfect, for that is not the case. You may think that the goose eats too much. That may be true. But compare her to the other geese in the barnyard and she still looks pretty good to me.

Alas, as in the tale of old, our goose is being asked to produce more than she can. She is being starved and yet asked to give more and more to those who do less and less. They threaten to cut her open and redistribute her golden eggs. Then what? Her very survival is at stake. And with that our freedoms are also on the block.

“The way to empower a family, a business or a nation is to empower the individual.” –mj

It is through our combined personal strengths, efforts and contributions that we can keep our goose healthy, to make her even more bountiful and able to provide for ourselves and those who truthfully need help. The more we give to those that refuse to feed the goose, with reasonable taxes or personal service, the weaker she becomes.

We are a diverse country, comprised of cultures and histories from around the globe. That is an elemental factor that makes us strong. Those people came through Ellis Island, from all countries of the world, down through the years, to become Americans, to live the American dream, not to make Her into what they had just escaped. Why would they want to do that?

Each person must give of their portion to tend the goose,
to feed, care for and steel her for the years to come.

It is unreasonable to think that she can do it on her own.

Everyone who wishes to partake must contribute.

Celebrate today! Celebrate the American Worker.

Celebrate what has become the greatest nation on earth.

Our ancestors were key players in her rise. We must make certain to do our part to prevent her fall.

We are her caretakers.

It is up to us;

We The People.

"Brevity is the soul of wit." - Shakespeare

Ah, Brevity.
What a treat, a cool drink on a stifling August day.
We each have endured sermons that dragged on and on, the classroom lecture from which only the bell could rescue and meetings without structure or end. Whew!

I was first introduced to the above quote by my high school English teacher, Mr. Baker. He signed my year book with Shakespeare’s quote and added: “you are brief.” I attempt to
apply those words in many aspects. Thank you Mr. B.

Clown acts, speeches, writings all were/are revised and trimmed, only the essentials to remain. A distillation of ideas, an economy of words, is the goal.

Jim Rohn says it best of all: “Jesus the master teacher said: 'Follow me.' That's brief! And He was able to do that because of all that He was that He didn't have to say."

Many times we listen to someone’s babbling, telling us much more than they know.
If I catch myself trying to make up for, in words, what I lack in being I know it’s time to get back to work on me.

In giving advice on public speaking, F.D.R., our 32nd President, applying his own council said:
“Be sincere, be brief, be seated.”

I’ll sit down now.


I would love to hear your thoughts.
mj

My Cinderella

Piercing deep blue eyes. Waist length, golden locks draping her shoulders, and cascading down the pale pink gown.
She could have been an angel.

Her name was Cindy. Could it be short for Cinderella?
Was Walt right? Dreams really DO come true? Was I to be her Prince Charming?
My heart had stopped! (That can’t be good for you.) Then, just as quickly, it began to ascend out of my chest, ears drumming with each passionate thump. I had never experienced such depth of emotion.
It had to be love. First sight too.
My life was complete. We should certainly spend eternity together.

I approached…. Hesitated….”Come on P.C. go for it!” It was Walt.
Courage bolstered, my advance resumed. I stood face to face with magnificence.
Gasping for breath, bumbling for words, I croaked out “Hi.”
And this skank she was with said ‘Cu mon Cindy, let’s go.’ Real snotty like you know?!
They left me there, all alone.
She would not even give me the time of day. Well, maybe she couldn't.
That was something we were going to learn how to do that year in Kindergarten,
you know, tell time.

Be advised that ol’ P.C. was not deterred after that first dismal encounter. That had to have been the skanks fault, I rationalized.
Courage, determination, and perseverance were traits that Walt championed.
I would have my Princess.

Then one day at nap time I could not believe my good fortune. There, on the classroom floor, was an open spot next to my goddess.
Slyly, avoiding eye contact, I casually spread my magic carpet (Mom’s old bathroom rug) next to my fair-haired vision. I instantly laid down, being sure to face away in an effort to not look obvious or seem too pushy.
What peace, what joy, what exhilaration flooded my little being.
At last, we were together.
Oh for just one look.
Would she be looking at me? Would she be smiling? Would we talk?
With my sweetest smile I slowly turned to face her and….
She was gone!!
The little witch was gone!
She had up and moved her rug across the room leaving me there all alone, once again.
So what’s a guy to do?

What do you have to say about that one, Mr.D?

It is said: ‘It’s nice to be the King!’ That may be true.
But from my experience, Prince Charmings gig is highly overrated.

Genius, Power & Magic

"Until one is committed, there is hesitancy, the chance to draw back, always ineffectiveness. Concerning all acts of initiative (and creation), there is one elementary truth the ignorance of which kills countless ideas and splendid plans: that the moment one definitely commits oneself, then providence moves too. A whole stream of events issues from the decision, raising in one's favor all manner of unforeseen incidents, meetings and material assistance, which no man could have dreamt would have come his way.
I learned a deep respect for one of Goethe's couplets:
Whatever you can do or dream you can, begin it.
Boldness has genius, power and magic in it!"

W. H. Murray in The Scottish Himalaya Expedition, 1951.

Silent Heros

Today the media is intoxicated with the news of Michael Jackson’s death.
They have and will continue to milk this for all they can squeeze. Michael led a controversial life. He was, some think, larger than life and may be considered larger than that in death.
So, then why did I choose the title, ‘Silent Heroes’?
Michael has been placed in hero status. He was far from silent. So is ‘hero’ a good fit?
I looked up ‘hero’ in Merriam’s. Sure enough there it was: ‘An object of extreme admiration and devotion.’ That does seem to apply. It is hard to ignore the effects his music and performances have had on millions of fans, worldwide. Their admiration and devotion is undeniable.
Hey, even I would love the ability to weightlessly moonwalk, fedora shading my eyes in the spot light. ;-)
Then there are ones who judge. Not much middle of the road in this incident. God himself reserves decree until judgment day. I feel much less qualified.
So do you personally know any Silent Heroes? I think you might be surprised.
Merriam also defined hero as: 'A man admired for his achievements and noble qualities.'
I think of those who volunteer at local animal shelters. Hearts breaking, each time they invest pieces of their personal lives that some fury souls might know the feeling of being held, cherished and loved, their sad eyes looking, perhaps for the first time, into tender eyes that deeply care.
The single mother who works two maybe three jobs that her children may have a better life, education and future than she.
He volunteers in a soup kitchen, handing out nourishment, comfort and hope.
Feet and back aching, in a darkened hospital room, a nurse comforts a homesick, frightened child.
Gazing into the brimming eyes of her student the teacher celebrates his success with him. "Remember this great feeling" she encourages, "Goals like this are SO possible, if you put forth the effort."
Those are what I call heroes!
Add your Silent Heroes to my list. Seek them and let them know how much they mean to you.
What an improved place our world would be if the headlines screamed the wonderful works of our Silent Heroes, if we thanked them for their quiet service.
Recently, a Viet Nam Vet was privately thanked for his service to his country and told ‘Welcome home soldier.’
A choked “Thank you” and tear filled eyes said it all.
So who are your Silent Heroes?
Will you let them know?
It’s never too late.
Would love to hear your thoughts.
mj

Why Personal Development?

I have been a student of life and personal development for a long, long time.
If I would have made the progress that I desire, I should not have to verbalize that.
But alas, my development is painfully slow.
When I share a Philosophical Meandering it is more for my growth and contemplation than yours. I, in no way consider myself a teacher. When I share my thoughts on paper it forces me to clarify and distill my ideas. To use an economy of words is my goal. My thoughts are just that, my thoughts, nothing more.
So why bother with personal growth? Why do I personally choose to spend my time in this venture?
We each have plenty to keep us busy, without adding to our list. We have gutters falling off the house, the car breaks down, the dog needs to go to the vet, again, the ferret is trying to eat the bird, and the grass needs cut. The bills have to be paid, more time needs paid to the family, trash pickup is on Tuesday, the mail box is falling off the post, Oops, time to go to work, and on and on life goes. (Deep sigh)
Why, on earth, would we try to squeeze in one more task?
For me it is a choice. Hey for each of us it is.
Life is packed full of negatives. Often they are likened to weeds in a garden. Without care and attention (disguised as work and dressed in overalls) the weeds overtake the garden in rather short order. Doesn’t seem fair, does it? But that’s the way it is. So, our choice is to cuss the weeds and their choking effect on our lives, or we can go to work to make our lives the beautiful gardens they are meant to be.
I have enough natural negative so to cuss the weeds would only add to my lengthy list.
I have found when in the dirt wrestling those weeds that I am much happier than when lounging around allowing them to grow.
You see I can belly ache and complain with the best.
How unfair life is, how lousy my work can be, the bills, the traffic, the state of the economy, the corrupt government, the criminal element and much of this is brought to me free of charge, in the daily news. When I allow myself to fall into this pit, I feel weak, vulnerable, and small, like a victim, helpless and trapped. Sometimes I think I could walk under a snake with my hat on. Does any of this ring a bell or strike a chord, with you?
However when I’m digging for those positive thoughts, when I’m reading the inspiring story of one who took his/her garden to the limit, then I too am filled with spirit, encouraged and powerful.
The more we look for the good stuff the more we find. That is also true of the bad. Each camp can provide endless examples proving their point. And I guess that is my point. What do you want to find?
This by the way is a Quantum Physics principal, called The Observer Effect.
Years ago in Brussels, Belgium scientists were having a little get together to discuss whether energy manifest itself as waves or particles. As they looked through high powered microscopes the wavers would see waves, the particlers, particles. Finally one of the wavers talked a particler into looking for waves. And as he began to look for waves, where he had just seen particles, the waves appeared to him. The result is the QP principal of The Observer Effect. We get what we look for! What do you want to find?
To have a beautiful garden we must do more than just root out the weeds (turn off the news). Our garden needs fed and fertilized, with great books and audios, with the encouragement of those who strive for their own exquisite life. The late Charlie “Tremendous” Jones said: “In five years you will be the same person you are today, except for the books you read and the people you meet.” That statement made me take a look.
Hey I am not advising the ‘Ostrich approach’ to life. We can stay informed without being inundated.
I believe, however, that all my worrying, cussing and handwringing, will not improve the condition of a child half way around the world. It only serves to make me less in the moment. If, in this case you choose to make a donation to help in such cause that wonderful. It’s the emotional drain of which I speak.
Let me be clear. I do care about the children of this world, the crime and violence, but the majority of that is outside my realm of influence. I can have little, to no, effect on those situations. But through my personal growth my circle of influence will expand and in turn I will be in a position of strength to help and serve more and more people.
So how do you want to feel each day? Shall we spend our limited days mired, wallowing in the stress of the world, or basking in the warm sun light as we tend to this spectacular garden we call life?
Changing the direction of our lives will happen in an instant. Deciding to change can take years.
It is simply our choice.

I would love to hear your thoughts.
mj

Cock-a-Doodle-Do

When I sit down to write one of my Philosophical Meanderings, a sense of unworthiness most times engulfs me. Who am I to be spouting all this positive stuff? You see I know me better than anyone, and sometimes it just ain’t pretty. Then I find myself at the keyboard, once again, attempting to put my rambling thoughts on paper.
I have hidden, or at least think I have, the depth of my feelings of lack. There were times in my life when I would find it hard to address someone by their first name if it was the same as mine. Man could a shrink have a hay day with that one. So you see these ‘meanderings’ really put me on the spot, in the spot light. That can be a pretty hot and revealing locale. It is much easier to live life in the shadows, just off stage, but we don’t grow much in the dark.
So here I am again, hat in hand.

I think there is a difference between self-esteem and self-worth.
To me self esteem is our belief in our ability to perform a certain task, that we are intelligent, or that we are attractive. Get the idea?

Self worth is coming to the place where we sincerely like ourselves, and where we believe we are good people who deserve love. Now I said good not perfect. That’s not happenin’. We’re not talking about bragging or becoming egotistical, rather a healthy sense of worth.

At times it may seem like things are actually getting worse on our journey.
That may be a good sign.

“Just when our lives are starting to get better, we may feel things are getting worse, because for the first time we see clearly what needs to be done.” –Dan Millman

Dan goes on to say that the irony of self worth is that those who are sincerely trying to improve may feel less worthy because of the high standards to which they hold themselves. Those with lower standards, less vision or sensitivity don’t have to measure up to much. They may even seem to manifest more self-esteem.
Those on the journey will recognize their faults and short comings and may have difficulty in understanding it is an important part of their growth.

So when it seems the harder you try the worse it gets, If you see more wrong now than you did last week, Hang in there baby. Great things may be just over this next hill. Who knows what magnificent view may be waiting for you, just around the corner.

‘It's always darkest just before the dawn.’
Is that a rooster I hear?

As always, I would love to hear your thoughts.
mj

In the Beat of a Tiny Heart

Habits; they shape our lives.
If we develop good ones, life tends to run somewhat smoother. Or so I’m told.
Bad habits can make for a little more interesting and challenging existence.
In a hell of a mess, that’s where they can get you. Read on.
Of all the bad habits (plural, I know it’s hard to believe) I have cultivated over the years, one towers over the others.
It only stands to reason and I’m not trying to anal-lies or justify, but having spent the larger years of my life in the company of truck drivers, rodeo cowboys and railroaders it should be understandable that colorful language has been a vice of choice.
This was a habit at which I had become quite proficient, eloquent and fluent, my 2nd language. In younger days I had actually taken great pride at the effortless and entertaining manner of my banter.
Alas, as I have aged (Oh how I wanted to say matured) I have lost my zeal for this ally of old. The pleasure, the satisfaction, of a well-crafted spew of goo has faded.
If I had a magic wand or perhaps ‘thee three wishes’ this would be my 1st correction.
I was given fair warning…many years ago, a warning that my oratory skills might not always be appreciated. If only I had heeded that warning. But then what would I be writing about this evening? So, what the hell! ;-)
The event of record is from my ‘rodeo era.’ The specifics escape me, but something had triggered one of my frequent ventures into the arena of ‘colorful language expertise’.
My audience that day consisted of (I hate to admit this one) my brother’s youngest daughter, my 4 year old niece. Our habits become so strong that they sometimes, most times, are not a matter of our choosing, in the moment. Could sure have used that magic wand!
So…something happened and my 2nd language sprang to life.
The exact verbiage I cannot recall, only that the ambient air was a stormy shade of violet.
You know how good 4 yr olds are at questions? Why this? How come that? Are we there yet? This child was no exception, yet exceptional.
“Uncle Moik? How come you cuss so much?” her innocent voice etched forever on my memory.
Quick on my feet, I was a bullfighter you know. I had the answer to this one. She was only 4. The power of reason was my angle.
“Well you see Rebecca my cussing has become a habit.” using my best ‘uncle in a jam’ voice.
Man this kid has got some eye contact.
I dug the hole deeper as I continued to ramble in my ignorance. (Note to self: Never reason with a 4yr old)
“And you see a habit is like breathing. You do it without thinking. You can’t stop breathing now, can you?”
There that should do it!!
Then with only a moment of hesitation, in the beat of a tiny heart, she replied:
“You can hold your breff sometimes.”

‘This one’s for you, Rebecca.’