The Rush of Life

It's all going by too fast!  I can't hold on much longer!  I don't know how today will end, much less this week, or this month. Or this lifetime!

When all our duties collide with all our desires, and both are overtaken by our lack of an abiding energy -- and life moves so swiftly that even the blur is blurred to a pixel flood in the mind's eye -- at that point you know things are out of control. Hyperbole, hyperbole, hyperbole!

How can one slow down -- maybe get a few things done -- maybe see a beautiful moment; really see it! Meditate and make that one slow picture happen! For yourself. For your joy. For your health. For you. 

The Extremes of American Politics

The Tea Party elements on the "Right" -- the ultra-progressives of the Democratic party on the "Left"-- both sides too hung up on their principles to understand or sometimes even consider the ordinary problems faced by real people, real groups, and the country as a whole.  People isolate themselves in their ideologies and run around like small children with their fingers in their ears screaming "I don't hear you; I don't hear you!" And then they proceed to demonize the opposite side or sides as un-American, or Socialist, or Communist, or un-Christian! 

Normalcy and problem-solving do not lie on the extreme edges of American politics!  Yet everyone in any party seem to kowtow to those extremes -- paying homage out of fear, or out of single-minded stupidity. Sometimes the thought is: "if I keep saying these stupid things aloud long enough, more and more people will come to believe them, or at least the argument(s) with have shifted in my direction."

The extremes have worked their way into the major parties and splintered the ideas of "compromise" and "progress." When progress is somehow accidentally or even blindly achieved, it is never enough for one wing or the other to stop them from condemning whatever change is introduced. We are at a political stalemate. That makes us all political morons. 

Approaching Another Birthday

I think I have the Buddhist slant on age -- it is what it is!  I don't try to pretend I am younger than I really am; I don't try to duplicate activities I did 30 years ago; I don't pretend or even imagine I will live forever.  As I drove to a Conference yesterday in Macon, GA with a colleague -- I was struck with how different our viewpoints were about: planning, thinking about retirement, death, illness, etc.

I have made many mental decisions concerning any diagnosis of "terminal illness" for myself.  I would not allow for disease to create fighting over "any life at all" for myself!  I would want and only accept a quality of life that I could endure and yet still be open to learning, experiences, and all the joys of living.

I would not live --- just so that I would not die! 

Life is precious and it is to be used up, fully, by every participant.  If it is not -- than what is it for? If life is precious only when we are about to lose it -- than what was it for? If life is only precious during its final moment -- than how does it differ from simple fear of death? Of course, I will be afraid when I am facing death -- that is human! But I will not allow that fear to force me to grasp at straws -- "any kind of life at all." I will try to die full of life!

Coulda Hadda V8!!!

"Two roads diverged in a yellow wood," blah, blah, blah! Sure, I have regrets; lots of them. So many times I have made a decision only to have to "live up to it later" even as others question it. I find that my instincts guide me pretty well during the initial decision, no matter how far out of line it might be to ordinary thinking. Justifying and understanding my own decision-process is a slower matter, and requires careful review of why my mind "jumped" in one direction or another. Usually I wind up either being pleased with my initial jump, or able to stomach it even though it might have been a bit of a stretch. 

We will always be in the situation where "we coulda hadda V\8!" So what? Anybody keeping score?
Someone suing us for lack of healthy eating/drinking? It is our own lack of trust in ourselves that attempts to condemn us for taking one path as opposed to another!

So, if "two roads diverge in a yellow wood" don't dawdle -- take either one, and come back and take the other one later if you must!

Life's Timing is Awful... and Wonderful... and Survivable

On most days I have just learned to laugh...and survive. The computer "goes out" just when one needs it the most --- in the midst of school registration the entire program used to register students is offline for days and we are instructed to: "keep registering students as before." Hah! How does one do that?

You go to DMV to have your driver's license renewed -- and now suddenly have to have your "birth certificate" in hand because of a new state law passed to catch "voter fraud" where no "voter fraud" exists -- but "voter suppression" of older folks who haven't seen their birth certificates in 40 years is a certainty! Political maneuvering of voter and license registration should be a crime. Gerrymandering should also be a crime. Profiting from regulations like these, either for a political party or for an individual, should be jailable offenses!

Karma interferes -- a person like me is lucky enough to have a sibling like Linda who gets me through the absolutely maddening points of bureaucracies -- gets my birth certificate sent to me via UPS -- but then, hold on; they only deliver their packages when they want -- so: "be there (at home) or tough luck." Situation finally saved by a very conscientious delivery man for UPS who works well after dark to rectify the situation (ie deliver the package) and save my driver's license.

Of course it doesn't end there -- because the DMV looks at my birth certificate (really) and asks where it is from -- and if it's a legal document, and if it is real, and where is Milwaukee (is it real?),
and...and... you get the idea. In the South, everything they haven't heard of is probably in Canada, or Afghanistan, or on the Moon, or....  Oh, my God -- what a series of adventures we all undergo!

Carol Johns

I am always struck by the self-appointed "preachers" among us --- those who by sheer bravado or arrogance make themselves the advisers of all of the rest of us.  I have a cousin by marriage who actually wrote a comment to me about a post I made "on heaven" expressing my frustration and doubts about what is to come in my life. She responded to me as if I were a child. Not all doubts are childish; nor are they misinformed, or wrong--just because they are different than your beliefs. 

Carol sent me an unsigned response -- first begging my pardon for her perceived sin(s) against me and my family (and hers) and then counseling me on what is to come.  I know that no matter how informed she is by Faith; she still does not know what is to come, for me, or you, or herself. She trusts in her "felt" faith whereas the rest of us humans trust in what all our thoughts, feelings and ideas tell us.

Carol may be a believer; but she is not infallible. Nor is she wrong -- just because she believes. She is wrong in her attempts to lead people who have different beliefs than she does. She is wrong because she cannot imagine that anyone could believe as fiercely as she does, and believe differently. And that is her most human of errors.The sin is called "presumption."

Iraq --- a New Tragedy

More fighting; more devastating and heartbreaking murder; more blood in the sand!  And for what?
Because my "religious background" is truer than yours? Because my "faith" is bloodier than yours?

Muslims killing Muslims is not the way any knowing "God" would want human history to work out.
Anyone killing anyone is not the way of anyone's faith -- and if it is, than that "faith" is not of God but of man's own lust for power. Men think they hear the echoes of faith when they are actually listening to their own small minds grown bloated with self-worth! Phoney self-worth!  Phoney faith!

War is a tragedy filled with many other tragedies -- war crimes, killing combatants and non-combatants without conscience,  crimes against humanity, crimes against morality, crimes against reason, crimes against life! Stop, stop, stop -- stop all of it now!!!

Carey, Bertina (Part III)

How does a story continue without further contact among the characters? Easily!  How does memory happen? How does life continue to flow even when the nagging frustrations appear to overcome all sense, and all normalcy? Why do thoughts linger in our brains? Why does our desire never cease to stir us into regret, or satisfaction unsatisfied?

Bertina was and is perhaps my second "soul mate" --- so why did I resist that fact; why did I decide the relationship was "impossible?" I'm afraid the answer is complex -- a combination of circumstances, life's experiences (for both of us), and distance -- these have created the answer. You cannot have what will kill you --- or it will kill you. You should not love that one person who may not know they love you -- but would hurt you at a moment's notice, simply out of ignorance and antipathy towards themselves. You will not willingly hurt yourself -- for any promised promise of happiness. Lying is not an option in life -- truth is what keeps us free and able to be ourselves. 

World Gone Mad

Make a quick list: Syria, Iraq, Oklahoma tea partiers, Texas anti-gay politicos, Republican move off to the extreme right, blaming Obama for everything, McCain on war/peace/anything, talk radio, talking heads on Fox, Pat Robertson, religions that honor ignorance, violence towards women everywhere, stupidity about science, Bush 43, neo-conservatives and their views, the Tea Party fools,
wars in Middle East/Africa/Crimea/Ukraine/etc., unrestrained capitalism, the 1% resisting giving the poor a living minimum wage, etc. etc. etc.

It is Friday the 13th and a Full Moon -- and the world is "madder" than usual. 

Berlin...and Dachau

I lived for a too-brief time in Europe during the 1960's. Going to "college" at Loyola University in Rome during that time allowed for quire a bit of travel time throughout the Continent.  And my favorite city in the world during that time -- was Berlin -- a choice of many a weekend train ride from Italy. This was the time before the Wall came down obviously, and I used my many trips there to walk nearly the entire city -- from barricade to barricade.  

The zoo, the Kurfurstendamm, the night clubs, the history, the theatre, the life, the food, the beer-- were all much suited to me.  It was in Berlin that I first noticed the easy mixing of races in couples in countless social settings. In Berlin I first noticed the wildness of sexual experimentation and conquest. In Berlin I also first understood "history" -- for good of for bad -- with the bombed-out cathedral there, the many indicators or WW II, and the frank and horrible admission of the Holocaust.  But only later when I visited Dachau did I really understand the fight in Europe in WW II. The large scale pictures and remaining buildings at Dachau are burned into my memory in a visceral and permanent way.

I don't feel at all superior to the acts portrayed and indicated there -- I feel sorry, on behalf of humanity, for all those who died -- and for all those who were "guilty."  We were all as guilty as those German military leaders who instigated the pogrom -- the world was complicit by willful ignorance and cultural stupidity. We chose not to know...

Puritanical America

I have long thought that America is still encrusted with Puritanical guilt, and rife with Puritanical "opinions" about sex. Such opinions are the root of many people's seeming disgust over any "sex" that is outside the norm.

Puritanical thinking establishes that norm as a strict pseudo-biblical aversion to sex outside of marriage, any sex that uses contraception, any "gay" sex, any sexual positions or placements outside of the "missionary," and any sex that challenges the current "within the contract" thinking. Sex is bigger than religion -- more basic, more human, more of our nature -- it is as essential as eating, sleeping, or any elemental physiological function. 

Every constrictive religion (like Puritanism, Catholicism, Muslim teaching, etc.) tries to shape sex within and only within its own cultural habits. So all birth control is forbidden for use by Catholics; and yet the majority of Catholics use and understand the necessity for birth control. All sex outside of approved rituals is forbidden to Muslims; and yet Muslim women continue to strain the bonds of gender-driven control.

What should we as individuals be doing about our sexual desires? We should be using our intelligence, our emotions, and our own innate understanding of our human nature
to dictate and control our own actions. That should be the reason why certain acts should be forbidden: incest, or sexual snuff films, or sex with children for example. 

Sex is not a sin -- it is a gift that humans have been given to use, wisely and in respectful control. Men and women should have equal control over their own sexuality.   

Don't Read This...Now!

Started this blog a long time ago not knowing if anyone would ever read it.  And frankly, I don't care if anyone ever does read it. 

Why?

I am writing it for me -- to assuage my own sensibilities; to ponder my own questions; to regret my own actions.  It is only tangentially about life, the world, the way other people are, or  just about things. That fact doesn't make it any less important -- it just makes it mine first, yours only if you want it to be.

This blog is also an instrument of my own personal history -- my past, my ideas, my mistakes, my triumphs. It will never be a comprehensive history, nor a particularly focused one. My thinking is pretty much all over the block. But it will be an honest one -- an honest portrayal of what is troubling me at a given moment in time.   

Missing Lost Loves

Without getting maudlin -- I miss Sheila N. Mrochinski.  She died in December, 2006 and she was the center of my life. She was not the only woman I have ever loved, but she was the truest, the finest, the most compassionate and forgiving. 

There were other "chances" both before Sheila and after. Before She there was a whole range of women I knew and respected at Interlochen --- I was unready or unable to commit during that time, so lovers like Helen, or Kathryn, or Jeanne, or Pat "went away" and lived their own lives without me. Some other women flitted into my life during that time for a few moments: Peggy, and Carlene, and a few others -- they did not "stick." Kris, Kate, and even Tina were especially disappointing and enervating during that same time frame.

And all those women cycled through my life during the 9 years I was at Interlochen.
So many "chances" and so many choices; so many successes and so many failures. 

A New Sadness

Observation of people -- usually in an airport, park, or some other public place -- is one of the things I do for exhilaration. Last weekend I spied a young woman carefully walking into a touristy area, dragging herself behind a "walker" (the kind usually given to stroke victims, or very aged people, etc.). I watched her for more than a half an hour as she plied inexorably forward, step by step, to her destination. 

She was quite young -- in her early 20's probably -- and yet incredibly infirm, fragile, even frail looking. She disappeared finally down a pedestian mall in St. Augustine (St. Georges Street -- which claims to be one of the oldest streets in that city) after a long and painstaking peripateia. 

Hours later as I moved down that same street to meet my friends for dinner at the Columbia Restaurant, I espied her again. She was perched atop a low wall -- legs crossed firmly under her as she sat, walker at her side -- facing a group of shops: ice cream shop, bar, restaurant -- which could only be called "young peoples' places." She sat there catlike -- waiting to talk to people/waiting to be noticed: but even though the pedestian mall was crowded she sat untouched and unspoken to. It evoked in me a kind of small sadness. 

How long would she sit there until she saw someone she knew -- or they saw her -- and spoke to her! Was she hoping that someone she didn't know would speak to her? Was she waiting for someone, or something, to happen? Was this a ritual for more than just a Friday night? I wanted to come back tomorrow, and the next day, to see if she was still there.  I wondered in my head what she was doing there. Did she just need to be near people and not shut up in her small apartment? Did she just need to be seen -- to acknowledge that she was still alive, still trying, still hoping? What was the rest of her story -- I wonder. 

Reading Minds...and Behaviors

I have taken so many "trips" in the past few years, mostly on behalf of my jobs --- but I always remember glimpses, moments, "pictures" of people I have met. Not so much as part of my job -- but on the periphery: at airports, in public squares, in downtown parks, or while waiting for my "work assignments" to arrive.

This past weekend was no exception and absolutely typical.  In the downtown park, just across from the pretentious Casa Monica Hotel (a Kessler "boutique" hotel -- like the Mansion on Forsyth Park near my home in Savannah) in St. Augustine, Florida; I saw this elderly man: with two small backpacks, a too-thick summer jacket to ward off the impending rain, and a heavy hand-carved cane to bolster an obviously weakened left leg.  I observed this man over several hours -- as he "patrolled" the park, looking for quickly-thrown away food in the public garbage cans (no digging in them, just looking at the "surface layer.")  I believe he may have even been watching those "cans" for fresh refuse. He had sharp intelligent eyes, a quick facial manner, and slow careful limb movements.  I would estimate his age to be nearly 80 -- and his home to be nearby, though probably not permanently.

He was a careful survivor -- and by the neat look of him, probably former military -- probably homeless, probably alone. I was drawn to him because of his careful patterns; but also because of his obvious care with his time and energy. He seemed an enviable person -- clear in his thinking, and focused in his intentions. He would survive that day and many more like it because he was what he was. I envied him.