I just realized that when I post blogs, I post really long ones. I don't know if I would read them myself. Why do I ramble so? Perhaps because I know I am just talking to myself. And is this a bad habit? No, of course not. Who knows you better than you?
Try asking yourself questions someday and then answer them in a spontaneous way. Don't think about how stupid the guy who asked you the question is. Just respond. It's amazing what one will tell one's self, and it is even more fascinating in that you will actually listen.
This is a good practice. Challenge yourself constantly and respond without thinking. You'll be amazed at the insights you have of yourself.
Surprise, I kept it short.
Wednesday, October 7, 2009
Tuesday, September 8, 2009
Room for Expansion
I believe long ago I wrote about the universe speaking to me, telling me I needed to expand. I have been contemplating this and today came to understand an aspect of this message.
I have often mentioned that I have been blessed with skills and capabilities that have brought me to a point in life where I am comfortable in both material and emotional comforts. I am in a position that not many people (percentage wise) in the world can get to. Given where I am at, I have the freedom to make choices others don't.
Looking at things that way, I realize that I have several directions to head in my field of life. There is my parent's paradigm of retirement, there is a paradigm of complete devotion to a cause, there is giving up on life completely, there is... ; let's just say infinite possibilities.
Expansion at this point means to take my freedom and expand beyond my parent's paradigm and move towards something different. Take the rare opportunity given to me (or some would say created by hard work, depending on your epistemological view) and expand it into something more.
My goal now is to detach myself from thinking of life as linear and observe it more as circular. My father was in the same position I am right now at some point in his life. He made his choices, which were all perfectly fine. It has circled back to me. In some ways I am in an even better place than my dad was. What will my choices be? If I choose the same as my dad it will truly be circular. Perhaps a helix is a better way to think of it.
Circling around yet not to the same spot. As threads in a screw. Almost as a strand of DNA. Goodness where is my mind taking me now. The beginning is never the same as the end, and yet we come back to a spot very close and start over.
Oh well, expand as a helix. Circle around and learn so we don't keep repeating life but advance it in a positive way. I like that a lot. Oh yeah, and live in the moment. And I forgot, don't take anything personally. And....
There a thousand axioms and theorems to live by. Try one, learn, come back, learn some more.
Love all
I have often mentioned that I have been blessed with skills and capabilities that have brought me to a point in life where I am comfortable in both material and emotional comforts. I am in a position that not many people (percentage wise) in the world can get to. Given where I am at, I have the freedom to make choices others don't.
Looking at things that way, I realize that I have several directions to head in my field of life. There is my parent's paradigm of retirement, there is a paradigm of complete devotion to a cause, there is giving up on life completely, there is... ; let's just say infinite possibilities.
Expansion at this point means to take my freedom and expand beyond my parent's paradigm and move towards something different. Take the rare opportunity given to me (or some would say created by hard work, depending on your epistemological view) and expand it into something more.
My goal now is to detach myself from thinking of life as linear and observe it more as circular. My father was in the same position I am right now at some point in his life. He made his choices, which were all perfectly fine. It has circled back to me. In some ways I am in an even better place than my dad was. What will my choices be? If I choose the same as my dad it will truly be circular. Perhaps a helix is a better way to think of it.
Circling around yet not to the same spot. As threads in a screw. Almost as a strand of DNA. Goodness where is my mind taking me now. The beginning is never the same as the end, and yet we come back to a spot very close and start over.
Oh well, expand as a helix. Circle around and learn so we don't keep repeating life but advance it in a positive way. I like that a lot. Oh yeah, and live in the moment. And I forgot, don't take anything personally. And....
There a thousand axioms and theorems to live by. Try one, learn, come back, learn some more.
Love all
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
Don't Cry For Me
This weekend while up on the north shore (see the pictures in my collection) I had the opportunity to complete two totally unrelated books. The first "Moretta, Dragonlady of Pern" is one of the series by Anne McCaffrey. The second "The Greatest Story Ever Sold: The Decline and Fall of Truth in Bush's America" by Frank Rich was written just a while ago and is very scary story indeed.
These stories made me ask myself questions, in light of certain celebrity deaths, of why I cried for whom. So in the last few weeks my inventory is as follows.
Walter Cronkite. Who in my generation or earlier didn't love Walter Cronkite. I trusted in his integrity and honesty and whatever evil was ever found out about him, I never heard it. He symbolizes to me the death of something very important in our culture. Trust in the media. Which is why Frank Rich's book hit me so hard. There are good journalists out there, but you have to dig to find them. Which is sad. Our news anchors are perfect portraits of the perfect people. We get our news in small snippets, getting smaller and less detailed as time goes on.
We don't have time to read, we need it in 120 characters or less it seems to make it worth our ever so valuable time. The media knows it. It wants ratings and success. But Walter never worried about that when he gave us his editorials. He questioned presidents, heads of state, anyone whom he felt had crossed the border of proper behavior. And that is what the press did for us. It made us confident that there were watchdogs out there, making sure our elected officials played it straight. And we trusted they did this for us.
But Bush turned this whole thing upside down. And now with Walter dead, I am not sure what media outlet I can really trust. The golden age of journalism has given way to the age of marketing. Liberal or conservative, we should all be after truth.
Moretta. Okay so she is a fictional character. But she died doing a duty that was forced upon her by other leaders. I guess I read this before Rich, but at the time, crying over the death of Moretta I realized I had never really mourned the death of all who have died in Iraq and Afghanistan, and others who have died in service of our country in recent years. I have shed tears over Vietnam, those who died and were inflicted with so many emotional and physical wounds. But not so with Iraq.
Why, why, why.
And then I read Rich. I never thought about it much, though I had read about it in many alternate press publications. Bush blocked those images of death very effectively. The Iraq war until recently was a simple cleanup operation. No one was dying there. But even old liberal, don't believe a word of what they tell you me, got caught up in his own life enough to let myself forget that there even was a war. At least now there is a backlash, at least now our government admits mistakes, but it is certainly not front page news.
So then I cried for our country's armed forces. The people who have elected service and are subject to the decisions of leaders tucked safely away. One can argue they chose the life, but it doesn't mean we can't honor them with our tears. And then for the Iraqi people whose life was miserable before and may be worse now. And then all the victoms of war, be they the fighters or the public. For none of the decisions to do this are theirs. They are made by leaders with no real concept of the cost. Modern war is meaningless, petty, and downright sucks. It is about power or wealth or both. There is no real good reason for it, given the cost.
So who didn't I cry for? Michael Jackson or Farrah Fawcett for sure. Though I cry easily, these people are not people that I think matter much for the world. Their deaths are just part of a culture that spends more time on its media icons than on things that matter. Like war. Like healthcare. Like feeding the hungry. I would guess our government will likely grant someplace a bit of money for a Michael Jackson memorial way faster than figuring out how to help our vets or fix up healthcare.
Why? Look at what America cares about, and then ask "If I were a politician, what would get make the most people like me in the least controversial way?" Answer, anything but what really matters.
These stories made me ask myself questions, in light of certain celebrity deaths, of why I cried for whom. So in the last few weeks my inventory is as follows.
Walter Cronkite. Who in my generation or earlier didn't love Walter Cronkite. I trusted in his integrity and honesty and whatever evil was ever found out about him, I never heard it. He symbolizes to me the death of something very important in our culture. Trust in the media. Which is why Frank Rich's book hit me so hard. There are good journalists out there, but you have to dig to find them. Which is sad. Our news anchors are perfect portraits of the perfect people. We get our news in small snippets, getting smaller and less detailed as time goes on.
We don't have time to read, we need it in 120 characters or less it seems to make it worth our ever so valuable time. The media knows it. It wants ratings and success. But Walter never worried about that when he gave us his editorials. He questioned presidents, heads of state, anyone whom he felt had crossed the border of proper behavior. And that is what the press did for us. It made us confident that there were watchdogs out there, making sure our elected officials played it straight. And we trusted they did this for us.
But Bush turned this whole thing upside down. And now with Walter dead, I am not sure what media outlet I can really trust. The golden age of journalism has given way to the age of marketing. Liberal or conservative, we should all be after truth.
Moretta. Okay so she is a fictional character. But she died doing a duty that was forced upon her by other leaders. I guess I read this before Rich, but at the time, crying over the death of Moretta I realized I had never really mourned the death of all who have died in Iraq and Afghanistan, and others who have died in service of our country in recent years. I have shed tears over Vietnam, those who died and were inflicted with so many emotional and physical wounds. But not so with Iraq.
Why, why, why.
And then I read Rich. I never thought about it much, though I had read about it in many alternate press publications. Bush blocked those images of death very effectively. The Iraq war until recently was a simple cleanup operation. No one was dying there. But even old liberal, don't believe a word of what they tell you me, got caught up in his own life enough to let myself forget that there even was a war. At least now there is a backlash, at least now our government admits mistakes, but it is certainly not front page news.
So then I cried for our country's armed forces. The people who have elected service and are subject to the decisions of leaders tucked safely away. One can argue they chose the life, but it doesn't mean we can't honor them with our tears. And then for the Iraqi people whose life was miserable before and may be worse now. And then all the victoms of war, be they the fighters or the public. For none of the decisions to do this are theirs. They are made by leaders with no real concept of the cost. Modern war is meaningless, petty, and downright sucks. It is about power or wealth or both. There is no real good reason for it, given the cost.
So who didn't I cry for? Michael Jackson or Farrah Fawcett for sure. Though I cry easily, these people are not people that I think matter much for the world. Their deaths are just part of a culture that spends more time on its media icons than on things that matter. Like war. Like healthcare. Like feeding the hungry. I would guess our government will likely grant someplace a bit of money for a Michael Jackson memorial way faster than figuring out how to help our vets or fix up healthcare.
Why? Look at what America cares about, and then ask "If I were a politician, what would get make the most people like me in the least controversial way?" Answer, anything but what really matters.
Sunday, July 12, 2009
The End Is the Beginning
Life is about decisions. Or is it? Recently I read that making a decision is just the start of the path that decision takes you on. This is particularly fascinating to me, as I am someone who has always belabored decisions. Am I making the right one? Where will it lead? Always trying to make sure my decision is a good, informed one. And once it is made, I am done.
Not so. Making the decision is only the beginning, not the end. I understand this more clearly than I ever have (if I ever have). No matter how we try to make the "right" decision, the path that it leads us down is entirely unpredictable.
For a simplistic example, take our recent refrigerator purchase. We looked at different brands, debated what would work best, and ended up with a new refrigerator. All done. Not really. What if it is a lemon, what if it leaks some odd gas that makes me deranged, what if....
The reality is I don't know. My decision to purchase a refrigerator could result in a multitude of things. Did the actual decision matter that much? No. Whatever I purchased or if I made no purchase would of probably worked out fine though the path with the different refrigerators MAY be different.
So I am starting to think that belaboring decisions may as likely to lead to disappointment as success. In feeling we made the best decision, we try to force the results we want that decision to come up in. We can't. And so we feel we failed.
The journey caused by each decision will continue until the next decision needs to be made. That decision may come very quickly on the heels of the last one, such as "that decision didn't work out, perhaps something else will be better".
What is all this rambling mean for me? I am going to start moving forward with my life by listening to my heart. I will make a decision based on what I feel is the right thing for me, and then leave it behind so I can experience the journey it leads me on. No more belaboring, just living at each moment. The decision is not the end but only the beginning to a journey of unknown results. There is no wrong decision if we allow ourselves to live and learn about life from these results and not let them make us sad.
Not so. Making the decision is only the beginning, not the end. I understand this more clearly than I ever have (if I ever have). No matter how we try to make the "right" decision, the path that it leads us down is entirely unpredictable.
For a simplistic example, take our recent refrigerator purchase. We looked at different brands, debated what would work best, and ended up with a new refrigerator. All done. Not really. What if it is a lemon, what if it leaks some odd gas that makes me deranged, what if....
The reality is I don't know. My decision to purchase a refrigerator could result in a multitude of things. Did the actual decision matter that much? No. Whatever I purchased or if I made no purchase would of probably worked out fine though the path with the different refrigerators MAY be different.
So I am starting to think that belaboring decisions may as likely to lead to disappointment as success. In feeling we made the best decision, we try to force the results we want that decision to come up in. We can't. And so we feel we failed.
The journey caused by each decision will continue until the next decision needs to be made. That decision may come very quickly on the heels of the last one, such as "that decision didn't work out, perhaps something else will be better".
What is all this rambling mean for me? I am going to start moving forward with my life by listening to my heart. I will make a decision based on what I feel is the right thing for me, and then leave it behind so I can experience the journey it leads me on. No more belaboring, just living at each moment. The decision is not the end but only the beginning to a journey of unknown results. There is no wrong decision if we allow ourselves to live and learn about life from these results and not let them make us sad.
Thursday, June 25, 2009
Wow, It's Been a Month
Almost at least a month since I have written. Since then I have settled into a job, reconnected with friends, got a new garage door installed, getting a tankless hot water heater installed, the La Puente Bed Bugs won their first game, and my son has scaled Mount Fuji. And of course I have continued to read things. Thanks to Joe, I read my first Alan Watts book, titled appropriately enough "The Book". This was written in the mid 60's and is great reading for everyone (including myself) who think so much of Tolle. His "american" interpretation of ancient Hindu beliefs causes one to pause and think hard about how we define ourselves. I believe it is eye opening, but it certainly depends on where one is at in life.
Reading Watts' book made me think (and he does reference) Martin Buber's "I and Thou" (or "Ich und Du" for those who prefer the original German) first published in 1923 and read by me about 1978. I did not understand it then, but upon starting to read it again, it actually brings together ideas in my mind. Reading Watts first certainly helped, but considering Buber wrote this in the 1920's blows me away. Here's a quick few lines
"The basic word I-You can be spoken only with one's whole being. The concentration and fusion into a whole being can never be accomplished by me, can never be accomplished without me. I require a You to become; becoming I, I say You. All actual life is encounter."
And another
"The I of the basic word I-It, the I that is not bodily confronted by a You but surrounded by a multitude of "contents," has only a past and no present. In other words: insofar as a human being makes do with the things that he experiences or uses, he lives in the past, and his moment has no presence. He has nothing but objects; but objects consist in having been.....What is essential is lived in the present, objects in the past."
What does all this mean? I would encourage you to think about it because it borders on how you define yourself and the spirituality you accept. For me it says that I am defined by you, and you are defined by me. We are interdependent not just with each other, but with our relation to all things, a tree, a flower, the air.
When we define ourselves it is always in relation to things around us. How can you be a kind person if there is nothing to be kind to? Kindness is relational. This is not a bad thing, but good as it allows us of freeing our ego up to look at life in a more relaxed manner. Even those people or situations that cause us the most grief are things that define us. The person could never be mean to us either if we weren't there. People could never be better than us, richer, smarter, etc. if everyone were the same.
This interdependence on how we define ourselves make us all equally important to each other. How cool is that? I don't have to feel bad if someone yells at me to relieve their tension, because I am doing them a service. If I wasn't there to yell at, what would they do. I am important to that person feeling important. And therein is the key, feeling something. That is ego. We let go of that and recognize how much we support each other what a wonderful world it would be. Accepting others skills or qualities without comparing. Would we be happy or what?
I ramble, as usual. If anyone would like to talk about this some more, I have lots of thoughts. It is making me calmer to think this way, and I am starting to see the beauty in even things I used to think of as ugly. I will be writing here also occasionally. Just because I have come back from Alamosa doesn't mean my journey is done. In a way I feel like it is just beginning. I have much to learn, many new experiences to ponder, and many more fields (notice I didn't say paths Paul) to roam in. Love you all.
Reading Watts' book made me think (and he does reference) Martin Buber's "I and Thou" (or "Ich und Du" for those who prefer the original German) first published in 1923 and read by me about 1978. I did not understand it then, but upon starting to read it again, it actually brings together ideas in my mind. Reading Watts first certainly helped, but considering Buber wrote this in the 1920's blows me away. Here's a quick few lines
"The basic word I-You can be spoken only with one's whole being. The concentration and fusion into a whole being can never be accomplished by me, can never be accomplished without me. I require a You to become; becoming I, I say You. All actual life is encounter."
And another
"The I of the basic word I-It, the I that is not bodily confronted by a You but surrounded by a multitude of "contents," has only a past and no present. In other words: insofar as a human being makes do with the things that he experiences or uses, he lives in the past, and his moment has no presence. He has nothing but objects; but objects consist in having been.....What is essential is lived in the present, objects in the past."
What does all this mean? I would encourage you to think about it because it borders on how you define yourself and the spirituality you accept. For me it says that I am defined by you, and you are defined by me. We are interdependent not just with each other, but with our relation to all things, a tree, a flower, the air.
When we define ourselves it is always in relation to things around us. How can you be a kind person if there is nothing to be kind to? Kindness is relational. This is not a bad thing, but good as it allows us of freeing our ego up to look at life in a more relaxed manner. Even those people or situations that cause us the most grief are things that define us. The person could never be mean to us either if we weren't there. People could never be better than us, richer, smarter, etc. if everyone were the same.
This interdependence on how we define ourselves make us all equally important to each other. How cool is that? I don't have to feel bad if someone yells at me to relieve their tension, because I am doing them a service. If I wasn't there to yell at, what would they do. I am important to that person feeling important. And therein is the key, feeling something. That is ego. We let go of that and recognize how much we support each other what a wonderful world it would be. Accepting others skills or qualities without comparing. Would we be happy or what?
I ramble, as usual. If anyone would like to talk about this some more, I have lots of thoughts. It is making me calmer to think this way, and I am starting to see the beauty in even things I used to think of as ugly. I will be writing here also occasionally. Just because I have come back from Alamosa doesn't mean my journey is done. In a way I feel like it is just beginning. I have much to learn, many new experiences to ponder, and many more fields (notice I didn't say paths Paul) to roam in. Love you all.
Thursday, May 28, 2009
An Understanding?
A few days ago I posted a riddle that was presented to me. Today I think I discovered what it means to me. The odd thing is that it comes about because of the numerology thing on Facebook. Taking that led me to re-reading the numerology book that my friend Tina lent me.
I do have a problem with perfectionism. I tend to see the ideal, and get frustrated when I can't implement that ideal. This combined with my inability to see my own self-worth creates much anxiety. The book tells me to see the universal truth that all is perfect as is, and also to accept that nothing on earth is ever truly perfect. The best that can be achieved is excellence. This dichotomy explains my riddle to me.
I keep seeing the world the way I want it to be. This is the valley floor of beauty. It is my vision of the ideal of beauty (symbolising of course my vision of perfection). The mesa is the world as it is, not perfect, but perfect in it's place in the universal ideal.
I need to accept all things as perfect, including my own responses. This means I can choose to do things not acting out of guilt or anger but from out of love and respect for myself and others. This actually comes back to something I wrote many months ago about faith in the universe. The numerology book has a great quote that expresses this well.
"Perfect faith recognizes that our mind cannot know or assume what is for our highest good; this faith inspires us to appreciate the perfection of imperfection. Such a recognition opens doors to an expanded sense of life."
The word "expanded" is an interesting thing, for in a recent meditation as I was realizing that I had "let go" as previously asked to do, I heard the word "expand" as a direction to take for my next step. Funny but since then I have read many things using the word expand. Perhaps the universe does guide us if we have the courage to listen. It certainly led me today to a much deeper understanding of myself.
I do have a problem with perfectionism. I tend to see the ideal, and get frustrated when I can't implement that ideal. This combined with my inability to see my own self-worth creates much anxiety. The book tells me to see the universal truth that all is perfect as is, and also to accept that nothing on earth is ever truly perfect. The best that can be achieved is excellence. This dichotomy explains my riddle to me.
I keep seeing the world the way I want it to be. This is the valley floor of beauty. It is my vision of the ideal of beauty (symbolising of course my vision of perfection). The mesa is the world as it is, not perfect, but perfect in it's place in the universal ideal.
I need to accept all things as perfect, including my own responses. This means I can choose to do things not acting out of guilt or anger but from out of love and respect for myself and others. This actually comes back to something I wrote many months ago about faith in the universe. The numerology book has a great quote that expresses this well.
"Perfect faith recognizes that our mind cannot know or assume what is for our highest good; this faith inspires us to appreciate the perfection of imperfection. Such a recognition opens doors to an expanded sense of life."
The word "expanded" is an interesting thing, for in a recent meditation as I was realizing that I had "let go" as previously asked to do, I heard the word "expand" as a direction to take for my next step. Funny but since then I have read many things using the word expand. Perhaps the universe does guide us if we have the courage to listen. It certainly led me today to a much deeper understanding of myself.
Carhenge
Just a quick note. Went to see Carhenge (check out the photos in the album). It is incredible that Americans can come up with such things. I wonder if in 10,000 years people will be confused as to which one came first. I particularly liked the other random car sculptures strewn around the field. I really need no more commentary on this, a picture is worth a thousand words.
There is also an album of the Badlands, which really is an incredible sight to see. Some day I need to get back there and really hike through it.
Finally are my final shots from the rooftop of my Alamosa home. It is strange not seeing the mountains every day, but it is also wonderful to see real green and feel the life that is humidity (kind of like a rain forest thing).
I am happy to be home. I have no idea of where my journey will take me now. It becomes more internal I think (don't know how that can be), as I don't know if I could take another long period of time away from friends and family. There is goodness in the separation but betterness in the connections.
There is also an album of the Badlands, which really is an incredible sight to see. Some day I need to get back there and really hike through it.
Finally are my final shots from the rooftop of my Alamosa home. It is strange not seeing the mountains every day, but it is also wonderful to see real green and feel the life that is humidity (kind of like a rain forest thing).
I am happy to be home. I have no idea of where my journey will take me now. It becomes more internal I think (don't know how that can be), as I don't know if I could take another long period of time away from friends and family. There is goodness in the separation but betterness in the connections.
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