Here in the United States, we are once again conducting a life and death screaming match about a symptom of a “disease.” We have performed this opus periodically for the last 100 years. And we will likely perform it well into the next century.
Each time, the underlying disease is the same. And each time, we scream about a different symptom of the disease. Because we are too timid, too courteous, too lazy, too selfish, or too invested in treating the symptom to even recognize the disease. The disease is health.
Sounds funny, doesn’t it. I’ll bet you thought health was the absence of disease. Well, you are correct. And for 100 years we have been treating symptoms without acknowledging the fundamental question about the disease. Read more ruminating
A fleeting smell? Remember it, and it returns to you.
A fleeting taste? It will make your mouth water later.
A fleeting touch? Embrace it in your memory.
A fleeting emotion? It will return.
What’s the most fleeting thing of all?
The present. A fleeting moment, each one gone, irretrievably, replaced by the next one, inescapably. It may not be the last moment of your life, but it’s the last chance of your life to live that moment. Live it.
A short and unscientific history of generational labelling
I popped open the Reader today and saw a post here on My Friday Blog that was an open letter to Millennials about generational labels. I know the post was just some lighthearted ribbing (it was lighthearted, right Josh? Right?) but it got me thinking about the labels that we have come to use to describe different generations of (mostly) Americans. So I wrote my own “open letter” to Millennials. With the utmost respect to Josh.
I remember the day the computers died. It started out like any other day. My smart phone woke me at the appointed hour. I picked it up and looked through the Tweets and Instagrams and posts and comments that had come in while I was sleeping.
Kept seeing this one tweet that got retweeted over and over about HEMP, but I figured it was Colorado bragging about legalizing pot, so I didn’t pay any attention to them. I went downstairs and used the IoT app on my smart phone to tell the Kuerig machine to make me some coffee.
I checked the home command center to see if anything had happened to any of the home appliances or systems while I was sleeping. The only thing that was there was the refrigerator telling me that the milk was past its date. I told the refrigerator to tell the smart phone to put it on the order for Pea Pod.
A humorous guide to lowering the bar in 2016 – reposted 2016-01-06
Decided to report this in response to the Resolved Daily Post topic. Originally posted 2015-12-30.
So here it is, almost New Year’s Eve 2015, and you still don’t have a single thing on your “Official List of Silly Resolutions for 2016” page. Guess what? Me neither!
Not to worry, my friend. Don’t look at this as just another one of your Dismal Failures of 2015! This is actually opportunity knocking at your door! So put down that pad of paper that has “Resolutions for 2016” scrawled across the top of an empty page, place the pen in your hand on top of the pad, and get up and open the damned door for Mr. Opportunity. He’s waiting! Read more ruminating
On the power of what we say and write, and what we hear and read
The words we speak or write possess great power. They go out into the world as an agent of our thoughts, and they do the bidding of those thoughts. Even if we say or write something that we don’t really mean, or that we don’t really want to believe, the words embody and empower our thoughts, and so give those thoughts license to impact the world on our behalf as they will.
That’s why we need to be careful with our words. If we want something wonderful to happen, but we’re afraid that it won’t, we must not validate our fears by embodying and empowering our thoughts about them with words. Let them remain unspoken, without form, and powerless. Read more ruminating
Writing as therapy for a man who has trouble admitting he has emotions
The first time I came across this blog thing was in 2004, during the Iraq war. I stumbled onto a political blog and started reading some of the stuff. Lurked for quite some time, finally joined in, made some comments, and wrote some posts. It was easier on a political site because, as the comedians say, the jokes just wrote themselves.
But I eventually grew tired of all the rancor and kind of let it drift away. I still go back there from time to time to see what’s the outrage de jour, but I haven’t written anything there in a couple of years. And I rarely participate anymore because politics has just become such a free-for-all pie fight.
Still, I find that I miss writing something and putting it out there to see if anyone notices. Maybe that’s why I’m doing this, but I don’t really know. Perhaps another reason is I’m trying a bit of self-finding, although that sounds quite trite as I say it. I’m finding myself, like I had somehow lost myself. I’m pretty sure I’ve known where I was all along.
But like many of my species (Homo sapiens males) I do have a hard time with those pesky emotions. Expressing them, that is, talking about them. I grew up with that stoic, man up, suppress them at all costs mentality. Oh, I’ve got them all right, big old weepy mounds of them, but talking about them is verboten. At least, it’s always seemed that way. Read more ruminating