Greetings, Salutations and a Hearty Hello.

'Ramblings'...'Meanderings' really does sum up what you may find here. A short story, a quote or something philosophical all with very little organization.

It is my hope, that with your interaction, we can experience life more fully through ideas, thoughts and questions. You see working together we are all smarter than each of us individually. And thanks, sincerely thank you for sharing your most valuable asset, time, with me as we Ramble and Meander through these pages.

Wednesday, July 29, 2009

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.’

1 comment:

  1. If we lean down low and listen, we can learn a lot from the little ones around us. I wrote Consult the Wisdom of a Child (A "short" story) to illustrate this, and I love this example of little Rebecca teaching her Uncle Moik a valuable lesson. Thank you for sharing, and thank you Rebecca for reminding your Cousin Randy to hold his breath more often too;)