Rarest and Most Precious Human Talent

“… Parnell McCarthy possessed the rarest and most precious of human talents … a talent so elusive that it receded only the faster before those who wooed it with more gadgets and toys: the capacity for participation and joy, the enviable ability to draw vast pleasure and enjoyment from small occasions and simple things.

For all the old man’s show of cynicism, he possessed the sense of wonder of a small boy flying a kite.”

Robert Traver
“Anatomy of a Murder”

Stan

I had been attempting to engage life for twenty-one years. Stan had been in the game for thirty-six. We met when the firm that he had been with for an appreciable number of years hired me. He was obviously well liked and respected by his colleagues, and comfortable with who he was as an Individual. He was happy with his life. I had never known happiness with life … but sorely yearned for it. He had my attention.

As I entered this new world, I carried with me a bundle of frustrations, disappointments, doubts, and fears accumulated in a world governed by the constructs of Fundamentalist, Evangelical, Protestant religion and a Family that was staunchly locked into a pattern that disallowed any expression of emotion or affection … and, in fact, had a distrust of those who were inclined to display any such thing. A rather unhappy existence for One who is, by nature, an Idealist/Romantic. So I was wide open for an example of someone living a life that complimented my Spirit’s core desires.

And there was this Guy! Stanley H. Menendez. A man who was exuberantly engaged in living life. A man who was unabashed in his expression of adoration for his wife and family. Someone who did not live under the yoke of “know your place and stay in it” that was the credo of all of my previous upbringing and experience. This guy quietly, and in a dignified way, projected Joy in living … passion for his family … and genuine regard and respect for everyone who he engaged in his daily walk. When Stan spoke with you, you had his total and complete attention … you knew worth and value.

I tell you, my Dear Reader, about this extraordinary fellow, because he is celebrating, this month, his 80th anniversary of life . And, though I am unable to be in attendance at the celebratory luncheon that his daughters have been so gracious and kind to invite me to, I could not pass up this opportunity to tell my little World about this wonderful Man. I hope, in my so-doing, that I can encourage all of us to be mindful, yet again, of the impact, and timeless significance, that we (most-often unknowingly) make on the hearts, minds, and yes, even the lives, of those who are touched by us as we go about our daily lives. Stan is still … all these years later … a Source of encouragement and joy in my life.

I am so blessed to have, as a permanent part of my life and world, a rare few Treasures like Stanley H. Menendez. Proof, yet again, that I am watched over by a loving and generous Creator.

Happiest of Birthdays to you, Stan … my Dear Friend. I love you.

When the Time is Right ... Confirmation

How do you know that you are walking “Your Path”? What endorsement … what validation … what affirmation cements your confidence in the right-ness of your elections? Just like you, I had the desire for certainty. My confidence skated on the thin ice of a fragile Belief and wavering Conviction that I was being the person that I was created to BE. I, like you, was challenged by the voices of loving, caring, concerned, and trusted friends who offered their opinions and perspectives on my life choices. And none … absolutely none of them could see the rationale for my determinations. Yet … I persevered on the strength of an inner conviction that I was in harmony with the leading of the Source of all that is true.

Then Life reached out with a steadying Hand and a reassuring Voice in the person of the only individual who (as a consummate human being) could command my absolute confidence and respect. He was a respected and honored Scientist and Educator … and a deeply committed Spiritual Being. Inasmuch as he is no longer with me in physical presence (though certainly still-known in spirit) I can, and will, reveal his identity (want, as he was, to remain invisible, humble, and unobtrusive.) Swaminatha Sundaram, (Professor-Chairperson (Physics), University of South Florida, 1982 [B.Sc.; M.S.; Ph.D., D.Sc., Annamalai University, India, 1960]) became a dear Friend, Confidant, and Joy in my life from the moment of our initial meeting (as he placed his mail in the post-box at the curb, and I delivered the morning newspaper in the pre-dawn hours of the day.)

It was during one of our treasured luncheon visits together, that he (being a man of very few … yet each one valuable … words) said “You, My Friend, are a true Priest. You walk your daily path as lead by The Spirit … minister to each life encountered along that path … asking nothing and expecting nothing save the meeting of your physical and material needs. All at the direction and through the provision, of that controlling Spirit.”

Confirmation! I can tell you, My Dear Reader, that I have never, in all of my life, been more honored, humbled, and moved than at that moment. Life had warranted and authenticated my convictions in terms that I would never have known to ask for or expect. And I can now share this story with you, as my personal testimony to the certainty, that you will know, with sureness, the appropriateness of your life elections ... if you will but exercise that awesome power, of your own Free Will, to follow the Inspiration … the Inclination … the Leading of your own personal and individual “Still, Quiet, Inner-Voice.” Mindful that doing so will often be to the exclusion of all outside "influences."

I cannot promise you riches, fame, glory, or applause as an expectation resulting from such a disciplined and oft-courageous (and sometimes lonely) choice. What I can, and do, guarantee you is Joy, Confidence, Peace of Mind, and Spirit, that gives (in time … and with patience) rhyme, reason, and meaning to all of the conflicts, pains, disappointments, and sorrows of a life so lived. And ... at that time and in that place, when and where you need, and are ready for it ... you can expect, in some form, a confirmation and validation ... from the Creator of all that You are ... from "Life." A confirmation and validation of the reality of your BE-ing that unique and particularly special Individual, that You are equipped (by nature, inclination, and experience) to … BE.

This is, I promise you, My Dear Friend, the greatest reward that can possibly be imagined. To know that you are living in harmony with the intention of your Creator in the world that is your daily walk. That all is Right with You and your place in all of Time and Eternity. And it is to the encouragement, endorsement, and enabling of You, in your personal pilgrimage, that I am committed … as I remain;

Your constant Friend and unwavering Servant.



IMAGES through the gracious courtesy of Jon Sullivan, PDPhoto.org

Being ... not ... Doing

He would never be measured by the accumulated credits for what he would do in life. His would not be an achievement quantified path. Those who were to take note of him would not speak of the Stuff he had done; the Creditentials he garnered; the Degrees, Titles, or Ranks he had tallied up. No, my son’s life was to be recognized for one … only one … thing. Who he was to be … not what … as that individual Person that he was created to be. This was to be my focus and the core of my parenting efforts for as long as I had the opportunity to influence him. And it was to become my life’s mantra. It is who we be … not what we do … that matters in life. (I know … the grammar stinks … but you get the point!) If we be the best that we can be … no one on the face of this planet can ever be better. This is the path that Matthew and I set out on together. Setting aside all of the cerebral palsy baggage … we would set our sights on being our best … us.

So when the young man came up to me in the coffee shop and said “I noticed that Matt really likes to read the newspaper every morning. So I gave him the novel that I finished reading last night. I told him that he will probably finish it more quickly than I did, because he reads so much. I hope that he enjoys it as much as I did.” I smiled and took silent note of the beautiful way that Matt had disregarded the fact that he couldn’t read. He pushed aside that potential barrier to social interaction … by creating the illusion that he was an ardent reader. Thus he fine-tuned his performance of all of the subtle gestures and mannerisms that he had gleaned from observing the behaviors of those who did read the newspaper. And I had, for some time, watched his beautifully played-out role as he “thoughtfully” turned the thoroughly considered pages. He artfully picked out comic strips and used them as props to share with others … pointing; throwing his head back in laughter; and enjoying the ensuing comradeship with the Strangers he met as he sat at the al fresco tables outside the shop that I sat inside of. (Please note that Matt’s mental challenges do not permit his grasping of the humor in those comics strips … even when read and explained to him.)

This was but one of the daily exercises that I devised for him (without making any note of it … just treating it as a routine, customary, and altogether normal happening.) He sat outside … at a table of his choosing, and enjoying his choice of beverage and pastry … and introduced himself to whatever level of social interplay he was comfortable with. I observed; took mental notes for discussion with his speech therapist (as we developed our understanding of the particular limitations manifested by Matt’s cerebral palsy affected brain), and devised “coaching” tips to share with Matt.

You see, my Friend, Matthew did not want to be recognized as someone who was challenged by the retardation of his mental functions. He did not want to have his physical impairments noted or accommodated. He wanted to be … Matthew; just another guy; a friend; one of “the gang.”

At our neighborhood YMCA … where I weaned Matt from my accompaniment by pointing to the “Members Only Beyond This Point” sign at the entrance to the gym, and told him that he was the Member. I was just his driver and escort. And I had no privileges there … he was the entitled one … none of the many folks, that Matthew established himself with, discussed, or even took notice of, the fact that he had never experienced homework assignments from school … when he discussed, with them, their children’s struggles with homework. He had honed his listening skills to such a lovely degree of empathetic listening that anyone would comfortably believe the illusion that he was in complete understanding of every element of the subject at hand. He simply pushed aside that potential barrier to social intercourse, by focusing on the finer goal of the desired relationship. He was marvelous. He was allowing himself to be! And he became a very self-assured young man. Content in himself, and comfortable with others.

So why, you, my Darling Reader, may well ask, do I tell you all of this? Because, Dear One, I hear so many lamenting their frustrations and disappointments at not achieving what they had expected themselves to achieve. So much moaning and groaning about perceived “failures!” And it is all about stuff that they feel that they “should” (by some mysterious standard either imposed by others [who have no God-given right to either impose; or certainly not to judge], or by some inner demons that inflict demands based on nothing more than self-generated unreasonableness.)

To these I say “How is that human Being coming along? That’s right! You are not a “human doing.” Even machines and devices can do stuff. But only a Being given the marvelous Gift of choice and election can be.” So I ask you to consider following Matthew’s lead. Set aside those impediments to your realization of who you … and only you … can be. And permit your Self to be … that uniquely equipped, individually gifted, and singly able person who has this one-time opportunity to offer our world … You.

I humbly thank you for your patient indulgence with me. Please know that my speaking to you, in this way, is born only of one thing … my genuine and respectful love of … You.

I remain your steadfast Friend and always willing Servant.

Painful Presumptions

As with the previous post, I have offered this one before ... a bit over a couple of years ago being the most recent. But it is something that resonates within me, and I want to offer it to that those who are newer Readers. Again, with apologies to my lovely Friends who have seen it before ... here 'tis ...

Pre-sume /verb/ suppose that something is the case on the basis of probability
[The New Oxford American Dictionary]

He went forward on the presumption that He had the necessary understanding of the situation to equip himself for success. The elderly Gentleman (assumed to be the next-door neighbor) told him that after the locked door was overcome with the assistance of the ax (offered by the Gentleman for that task) He would encounter some resistance due to the rug that the occupant of the house customarily kept rolled up against the door as a deterrent to cold draught. And, indeed, after smashing the lock mechanism with said ax, He did, in fact, realize a firm, but yielding, resistance quite natural to a heavy rug. Hence, after persuading the rug to allow the opening of the door for a distance barely sufficient for his body to crawl through, he flattened himself to the floor and projected himself into the smoke-filled room and made his first attempt to evaluate the situation.

Having never before confronted a burning building, He was encouraged by the realization that the long ago learned (from sources not remembered) theory that there would be a space at floor level where the smoke would be eight or ten inches above the floor itself. And surely this was the reality that He encountered, as into that narrow space He crawled, and inched toward the room where He could clearly see the flames hungrily consuming every element and surface. This was the room that the neighbor had told him that the three children were normally in. Three small children who had been left by their mother who had gone for a quick visit to the store that was but around the corner. Three small children whose voices had been heard screaming for help just a short while before He had appeared upon the scene.

And now He was trying, through the acrid, oxygen-starved haze of that narrow corridor at floor level, to locate the children. Back out of the room He came to recharge his lungs with air. Choking, spitting, and coughing out disgusting remnants of that life-denying gas, He steeled himself for another entry. Again, He pushed past the rug-impaired opening and extended himself still further into the kitchen and toward what seemed to be the now fully consumed dining area of this small tinderbox of a dwelling. No luck … nothing … not a single child in sight and the heated chemical residue of all that the flames were converting into toxic gases scalded his eyes and his throat.

Back out, across the tiny deck that served as the back porch and into the small yard that was itself becoming engulfed in the stench of the fog from the fire. This time the neighbor was there with water (from some source that was not noticed) and offered to cool and wash his face. The water was gratefully accepted and used to wet his handkerchief, which He placed over his now-parched mouth and nose for his last foray into the hellhole of that inferno. He could only think of three small children who had not been heard from nor seen for what was beginning to seem like forever. Cursing the weight of that damned rug for its bulky resistance, He pushed yet again into now known territory and this time beyond until his lungs demanded retreat. Failure! With the mucous of a pulmonary system ridding itself of intruding threats pouring from his mouth, his nose, and even his eyes, He heard the arrival of the fire fighters.

To the first Firefighter to come into the back yard (where He and the, now still and silent, ancient neighbor stood) He yelled the information that He presumed to be a statement of all pertinent facts. The Firefighter gave him a look that was a puzzlement to him though it lasted but a fraction of a second. Then, to his astonishment, this huge (or so he seemed, clothed, as he was, in all of his fire-fighting equipment) fellow simply took a seat on that self-same tiny porch. The Man just sat there … “How absurd” He thought. He had just moments before used that surface as a launch area for entry into the chamber of unspeakable horror. “How can he be simply taking a seat and not doing anything?” He thought and wanted to scream.

Then … calmly … with measured deliberation … that Fireman leaned back, reached behind himself, around the still-open door, and, obviously (from the grimace of effort registered on his face) grasped that rug that had thrice been such an impediment to the would-be Rescuer, and pulled forth ... not a rug … oh no … a small boy! Cradling the inert form in his arms and hurrying toward the waiting medical equipment at the front of the blazing structure, the professional Angel of Mercy looked at the pair of dumbstruck observers and said “The children always go to the nearest door … and that’s where we usually find them.”

He had gone past that child three times. He had presumed the bulky weight to be what He had been told to expect there. He had presumed that He had all of the information necessary to do his best for the best outcome. He was ignorant of unknown probabilities. It is now thirty-seven years later and He still feels … really senses an actual awareness of the soft, ungiving weight of that little boy’s body as He pushed against it. He had cursed it for its impediment to his efforts to reach the children. Every time He now hears or sees a fire truck on its way to affect a rescue He instantly relives that moment. That boy would be somewhere around forty five years old now … but he is not. He never had a chance to be. And I … that’s right, I … will never stop regretting the presumptions that I made that day.

If there were no other reason for my efforts to share my perspectives … my ‘lessons learned’ … my little insights into this business of life ... the provision of an expanded set of possibilities for your consideration would be reason enough. I will do everything that I can to equip you with a wider understanding; a broader scope of outlook; an awareness of a more useful set of possibilities for your use in your entering into whatever areas of unknowns that present themselves to you. I can never accept the possibility that my reticence could leave you vulnerable to the pain, the unhappiness, the disappointment of missing the potential blessing of any experience … because your presumptions were left minus an expanded scope of possibilities that I could have offered you.

When I pledge myself to you as “Your Friend and Servant” (as I so frequently do) there is always, in my Soul, an awareness of the weight of some ‘rug’ against which you may be pushing in your life. And I must help you see the life potentials that could be there if only you know where to reach … what to grasp … perhaps, how to react.

To that end, I remain, as always, Your faithful Friend and willing Servant,

John-Michael
(originally penned 29July2005)



(IMAGEs: Through the gracious courtesy of Ian Britton, FreeFoto.com)

Rum-Raisin Ice Cream

It was in May of 2008 when I last shared, this bit of perspective, with those who honor me with their attention. Since then, I am blessed with new Friends, and Readers, who have not read it. So, with apologies to those for whom this is a 'repeat,' Here is something that I still have strong feelings about.


I do not like Rum-Raisin Ice-cream.

There, I’ve said it.

There is nothing more to say on the matter (yet you and I know that there will, most assuredly, be more said.)

You see, Dear Friend, I do not begrudge anyone else their preference for Rum-Raisin Ice-cream. I hold no grudge against that flavor. There resides no bitterness in my soul toward the combination of elements that constitute that particular blend. I would never counsel anyone to disallow themselves the opportunity to sample that product nor would I undertake to undermine that dessert’s place in the universe of food products.

It is, quite simply, a fact that my own, personal, individual, particularly unique taste buds do not enjoy Rum-Raisin Ice-cream. And that is perfectly all right for there are myriad other choices offering themselves for my delight.

Yet... when my Friend of many years informed me, some time ago, that she is hesitant to allow herself to openly and publicly be my friend because of her children’s (all grown adults) reservations about me, I was disappointed. My big old twenty stone (sounds so much better than the equivalent in pounds) of feelings got themselves hurt. Why? Because ... (here is where I identify with Rum-Raisin Ice Cream) ... I am who I am. She doesn’t understand why I can’t mitigate myself to accommodate the sensitivities of her children. “Aren’t you denying them the opportunity to know you by insisting on Being you?” she asked. “Why can’t you soften up your presentation of yourself?” “They think that you are being ‘phony’ because you come on with such gusto.”

But who will they know if I present another image to them? Will the presentation of a ‘moderated’ me be an honest portrayal? Yet my friend persisted in the idea that we must ‘respect’ other people’s ‘space’ by adopting behavior that accommodates their sensitivities.

I lived the first four decades of my life in the daily practice of ‘accommodation.’ I was never relaxed. Every encounter was a ‘performance’ for the benefit and to gain the acceptance of, or create comfort for, my ‘Audience.’ This was as true with an Audience of one, as it was with a large gathering in some public meeting place. Consequently, no one (including myself) knew Me. I had no intimate relationships. There existed no place where I could go to, firstly, know who I was for my own knowledge and, secondly, to be that Person in comfort. The accepted social norm was that this was (and is) proper. I now reject that norm (for myself.) I also embrace the consequences resulting from that rejection.

One of those consequences is the reality that I will be (and am) sometimes rejected as a Person. That too is absolutely OK. For my Dear Reader, Rum-Raisin Ice-cream is not for everyone. But it is there for the individuals who have a preference for it and find enjoyment in indulging in its particular delights. And the Friendships that I now enjoy, I enjoy without reservation, in all of the intimate, passionate, and exuberant freedom, that is to be found, in Being the genuine ME.

(Don't you just love all of Life's available Flavours!?)



(NOTE: If You have been reading my stuff since February of last year, first,thank you for your kindness! Secondly, Yes! you have, indeed seen this piece before (March 2007.) But I like it! And I like to "run it up the flag pole" around this time each year (ice cream season is upon us!) So, if nothing else, maybe it will inspire a visit to your favorite ice cream parlor. [smile])


IMAGE Through the gracious courtesy of Ian Britton, FreeFoto.com

Generosity of Spirit

"It is the individual who is not interested in his fellow men who has the greatest difficulties in life and provides the greatest injury to others." ALFRED ADLER

Many years ago, I found myself kneeling at the finish line, on a track with six lanes of “runners” coming toward me … my camera at the ready … cheering the Runner progressing toward me in the lane that I occupied … and feeling the tug at my heart-strings as I saw him falling further and further behind the competitors in the five other lanes. The runner was my son. The event was one of several that he was competing in as part of the annual Special Olympics (a version of athletic competition tailored to the special limitations [all mentally impaired to differing degrees … some physically impaired] of its participants.) My son has cerebral palsy and the portions of his brain effected result in a moderate impairment of his intellectual functions as well as a minimal impairment of his hips, and legs. He was, on that day, the only participant in that race who relied in the services of crutches. And it was due to this limitation that he was losing ground to the other competitors.
My role, in all of this, was to subtly assist him in maintaining a focus on his own lane so that he would not drift off into the adjoining lanes. (That challenge of "focus" being one of the aspects of his impairment.) I accomplished this (without causing him the embarrassment that would accompany an obvious display of my intentions) by appearing to be intent on photographing him as he raced. I could see the growing dismay in his eyes as he recognized the inevitability of crossing the finish line well after all of the others had.

Then a wonderful thing, that (even at this moment, all of these years later) still has my eyes brimming with tears, at the recollection. The runner in the lane to my son’s right looked over his shoulder … saw the sadness and frustration on my son’s face … and stopped … and waited … and ushered my son … ahead of him … across the finish line. And then applauded my son (while also cheering him.)
Need I say anything more? Is there anything that my words could add to the eloquence of that young man’s sermon in demonstrated compassion and self-sacrifice? Can the poetry of one person’s obvious generosity of spirit be enhanced by anyone else’s commentary? I think not! So rather than speak to that young gentleman’s nobility, I will speak to us … You and Me.
Would it take so much for us to step aside and allow the one struggling along-side us to move ahead? Will our position in our own life-race be jeopardized by a spirit of generosity and sacrifice? Is that “finish line” of immediate gratification worth the loss of the higher goal of betterment of our shared environment? Will we be any “better off” as a people if we insist on focusing on our own agendas to the exclusion of a sensitivity to the plight of our neighbors? Did that young man not demonstrate, to all of us, the noble value of assuming responsibility for and taking action to benefit those who (while doing all that they are capable of doing) are falling behind?
No, My Dear Reader, I can not add to, nor do I wish to detract from the beauty of the message delivered by that wonderful Human Being’s behavior. So, in this thought on reaching out and touching others, I will dry my tears of recollection … and send these considerations to your safe-keeping.



IMAGE: Matthew Michael Brown (My Son)

No Wasted Moments

With Life's divine Gift, of each Moment, of every day,

we are given the opportunity ...

for each place and every life that we touch ...

to make that Place or Person ... better.


To fail to do so ...

is to have wasted Life's Gift,

of that Moment.


I am intent on wasting no Moments.

Autistic Salutatorian

Autistic Salutatorian Delivers High School Graduation Speech

Rhode Island High Schooler Leads Class Despite Speech Struggle

By BRADLEY BLACKBURN

June 16, 2010—

Eric Duquette is the salutatorian of his high school, an honor student, a musician, and he has autism.

Eric Duquette delivers his graduation speech to classmates from Smithfield High School in Rhode Island. "My parents were told I would most likely end up in an institution," he said. "I stand before you accepted into every institution of higher learning I applied to." (The Valley Breeze)

The 18-year-old Duquette, who couldn't say a word until age five, gave the commencement speech at his high school graduation ceremony Tuesday night in Smithfield, Rhode Island.

"My parents were told I would most likely end up in an institution," said Duquette. "I stand before you accepted into every institution of higher learning I applied to."

He stood at the podium wearing a green cap and gown and a big grin on his face. His speech, funny and touching, was met with enthusiastic applause from his peers.

Duquette graduated from Smithfield High School with the second-highest grade point average in a class of just under 200 students. He will attend Rhode Island College in the fall, with plans to study biology and eventually become a pharmacist.

"Tonight is all about reflection and looking forward to the journeys that lie ahead of us," he said.

It's been quite a journey for Eric. His success in high school came after years of work and slow progress. Diagnosed with autism when he was a young child, Duquette struggled with communication and language.

Mother's Dedication Gives Gift of Speech

His mother, Judith Duquette, began working with him early to break down his communication barrier with speech therapy. In addition to professional therapy, mother taught son using sign language and cards with pictures and symbols.

Despite his early struggles with speech, today he speaks both English and Spanish. He's a member of the Spanish National Honor Society and placed 93rd in the nation on the Spanish V exam.

Judy Duquette combs her son Eric's hair before he delivers his graduation speech.
Photo credit: The Valley Breeze

"Daniel Webster wrote that 'if my possessions were taken from me with one exception, I would choose to keep the power of communication, for by it I would soon regain all the rest,'" Duquette said at the podium. "For me, learning to communicate did mean regaining all the rest."

Salutatorian with Autism Gives High School Graduation Speech

Listing the scholarships and college acceptances he's received, Duquette said that he hoped to inspire his fellow students.

"I tell you this so you do not allow yourself or others to be defined by your limitations but rather abilities. Never underestimate yourself," he said.

Eric Duquette, 18, receives his diploma
during the Smithfield High School graduation ceremony
on June 15, 2010.
Photo credit: Lee Walsche/Lifetouch National School Studios

After the ceremony, Duquette told ABC News he was proud of his performance.

"I think I perfectly encompassed the compassion and spirit of Smithfield High School through each and every single one of my words," he said.


Copyright © 2010 ABC News Internet Ventures (With my profound thanks)

Andy Mackie ... "Harmonica Man"

Something that Steven (my sweet Little Brother) shared with me ...
and I simply MUST share with ... You!
Enjoy!
(I do love You, Ya know?!

Erdrich's "Advice to Myself"

LOUISE ERDRICH: [I’ve]” just got to be Erdrich. I can't do anything else. I'm going to read this, 'cause this is what I finally had to do. I had to give myself advice …”

Excerpted from: the transcript, of Bill Moyers’ interview of Louise Erdrich, found at … http://www.pbs.org/moyers/journal/04092010/transcript3.html ... and edited by John-Michael (in structure only [spacing, capitalizations, and punctuations] … no text altered)

Advice to Myself
Louise Erdrich

Leave the dishes.

Let the celery rot in the bottom drawer of the refrigerator
and earthen scum harden on the kitchen floor.

Leave the black crumbs at the bottom of the toaster.


Throw the cracked bowl out and don't patch the cup.

Don't patch anything. Don't mend. Buy safety pins.

Don't even sew in a button.


Let the wind have its way … then the earth
that invades as dust … and then the dead,
foaming up, in gray rolls, under the couch.

Talk to them. Tell them they are welcome.


Don't keep all the pieces of the puzzle ...
or the doll's tiny shoes …

Don't worry who uses whose toothbrush …
or if anything matches ... at all.

Except one Word to another … or a Thought.


Pursue the Authentic.

Go after it with all your Heart.

Your Heart, that Place
you don't even think of cleaning out.

That closet stuffed with savage mementos.


Don't sort the paperclips from screws from saved baby teeth
or worry if we're all eating cereal for dinner again.

Don't answer the telephone ... ever ...
or weep over anything that breaks.


Pink molds will grow within those sealed cartons
in the refrigerator.

Accept new forms of life and talk to the dead
who drift in through the screened windows … who collect
patiently on tops of food jars and books.


Recycle the mail, don't read it … don't read anything
except what destroys the insulation
between your Self ... and your Experience.

Under the "Take a Moment Tree"

Today, I am drawn to the subject, yet again. So, come … please join me, here, under the “Take a Moment Tree” … and I will share with You, Dear Reader, what this matter of “Accountability” means to me.

I am accountable to Life for the answer to THE big question ... namely, “How good a job did you do, and/or are you doing, at BEing John-Michael?" Not, “What titles did you hold?” nor "What roles did you play?” nor "What offices did you fill?" No question of "How much?" of anything, will determine the success of my short while on this earth. Just "How did you respond to, and use, that unique Treasure (including its particular set of gifts) that is the individual Design, by which you were lovingly created?”

That is the scale upon which I am weighed, day by day, and through eternity. So I am compelled to respond, without reservation, to each opportunity served to me each day in the knowledge that all things are under the control of the Creator of it all. And each, of those opportunities, has a purpose. I do not want to disappoint my Self ... deprive that Person... or lessen the value of that experience, by withholding any part of Me, from each moment.

For example, there was the occasion when I pulled over to the curb and exchanged salutations with the lady who was walking her dog in the early-morning, before-preparation-for-work, pre-dawn stillness. (This is the time that folks are accustomed to seeing the newspaper delivery guy [me] who had [at the time of this happening] been there every day for the prior fifteen years.) We shared comments about now-forgotten things, and then (in response to the urging of my "Still, Small, Inner Voice") I said something like "Please forgive my intrusion, but I detect, in your tone, an obvious lack of enthusiasm for the job that you plan to engage yourself in today."

This is the moment when Life rewards my courage with an affirmation that I have ventured onto "prepared soil". The lady began to unreservedly reveal her unhappiness with both of the jobs that she felt herself trapped into. Like so many today, her economic requirements necessitated her working more than one job and, like many, if not most, she found no satisfaction in either of hers.

I then revealed to her the possibilities available through career counseling and gave her some examples of successes that I have known personally. I explained the functions of some of the testing tools available, to assist in evaluating one’s preferences, proclivities, talents, and individually innate inclinations … and illustrated the ways in which the test results can be translated into a satisfying and even enjoyable career.

Some months later, in response to my passing wave, she stopped me and told me that she had decided to follow through on researching options for herself. Still many months later, I saw a "U-Haul" trailer in the street with several people engaged in the never-enviable task of moving-day labor. To my surprise, the lady flagged me down (I didn’t even know that she lived there) and announced "I took your advice. As a result of the testing and counseling that I pursued, I am (as you can plainly see) moving to a new location to begin a new career that is the fulfillment of my dreams. Thank you for your advice. You gave me encouragement, hope, and a plan"

I went my way and she hers without even knowing each other's names. All that matters is that I gave Life an opportunity to let that young lady know that there was a waiting and ready potential for something special for her life. And all that was required of me was the willingness to allow Life to use the experience and knowledge acquired over my personal life-walk, and offer it to this person who was both ready for it, and receptive to it. Her life was transformed ... and I am forever blessed.

So, you see, My Dear Friend, willingness, availability, and receptiveness are the only requirements for us to be of immediate and tangible service to that world that is all around each of us ... moment by moment, through each day that is given to us. And in participating in these opportunities, we can make our world a bit better ... person by person ... experience by experience ... you and I … living in loving sensitivity, to our own personal world, can change life for the better.

I invite you to be bold, open, and alive in the moments of your life. And, as we look into each of our personal, intimate, and private "mirrors" of reflection, we can know that we have responded appropriately to those gifts presented to us by Life. In those fleeting opportunities that were given to us ... that we responded to Life’s summons to Be that unique individual that was needed in that fleeting moment. And that we embraced our personal calling for or own Accountability ... to ourselves ... to that other Soul ... and to Life.

Please trust me ... it’s great fun!


IMAGE: Through the gracious courtesy of Ian Britton, FreeFoto.com

Building Project

My, oh my! How discouraged I have, so often, been. My past was colored by the belief that every element of my life was to be held up to a Final Inspection … the ultimate examination that determines the acceptability of a finished structure. With each disappointing incident along my life’s path, I felt myself (afresh and anew) a Failure. I labored under the misconception that each step along the way was a decisive and final one. I now know better.

What I now understand is that this whole deal is a construction project. Yep! I was, and continue to be, under construction. What I did not see was the purpose and intent of the Great Architect in my life. Happily, I now get it. I see all of that yucky and unfulfilling work, that was so exhausting and unglamorous, as the necessary clearing away, of all that would impair the ultimate enterprise … the building of the ‘Who’ that I am (someday) to be. (A lot of “site preparation” was required in my life. Much removal of faulty ideas, tainted mindsets, prejudices, and biases cluttered the environment of my “job site.” A lot of rubble and unstable substrata needed removal.) This was played out in a host of frustrating and painful experiences and choices that seemed (at the time) to spell “More Failures.” (These are the times when the world around us may think that we are wasting our time or our talents. They see no impressive outer evidence of anything laudable in our lives … for “site work” is neither glamorous nor entertaining to those looking from the outside.)

With each confrontation with conflict or change, I felt that I had, once again, fallen short of some mysterious Standard. (A religious fundamentalist upbringing contributed greatly to this mindset.) Instead of the refining of myself that I now know was taking place … I saw my walk through life as stumbling and disjointed. Relationships, jobs, and associations seemed to lay haphazardly strewn in my life’s wake. Now I know that each was necessary for the construction of a Foundation upon which I could become who I was designed to be.

I could have built my life as a Lean-To that would provide rudimentary shelter. I had plenty of encouragement to settle for that. “Know your place, and stay in it!” was the constant message from all of the ‘Significants’ of my world. But the Grand Architect of life obviously had other plans for me. And it is definitely so for each of us … you included, my Dear Friend!
So, I ask that you consider, with me, the reality that is our shared life experience. I ask that you allow a new perception of what is going on in your life, as a necessary (and useful) stage or step in the building of a finer and more fulfilled You. Where you see yet another instance of something incomplete, consider that it might be the digging through, and removal of the unsteady ground of unstable thinking or fears … in order to pour a solid foundation of reliable certainty, and resolute determination.

When the ‘walls’ of your life’s structure seem to be so slow in taking shape today … couldn’t it be that Life is guiding you in carefully setting in place a ‘cornerstone’ that will determine the true and certain reference point for sound and reliable choices in your tomorrows? I encourage you to permit patience in this critical step in your life-work. It will make for many happy moments of satisfied reflection as you watch, with confidence, your life’s ‘structure’ take shape. Please be patient with yourself … and Life.

I relish the idea that I may never complete the finishing touches on this building enterprise. For I can reflect on those marvelous cathedrals that inspire and give comfort to all who either stand at a distance and allow the wonder of them to touch their Spirit … or, upon entering, embrace whatever elements of these grand edifices they find speaking to their core. These cathedrals have been built, not by one generation of builders and craftsmen … but by many, who added their contributions to what they had been inspired by and drawn to. It is my hope to have contributed to the site work, foundation preparation, and perhaps even cornerstone laying and wall beginning, that will give inspiration and enthusiasm to succeeding Souls who will enjoy adding their own skills and talents toward the building of a world that will promote loving acceptance of others; caring service to our community; gentle support of neighbors; and a place of respite for those who are weary and worn by life’s storms and trials. Whatever I can add to that Cathedral is a good thing!

This is the cathedral that I give myself to building. This is the blueprint that I have envisioned and given myself to. In this understanding, I can accept all of the ‘site work’ that is my past. I embrace all of those pesky changes and alterations that I had to make to what I had heard others tell me was what I should be … or ought to be doing. (It is now clear that there are all too many “sidewalk superintendants” who are willing and anxious to voice their opinions, as to what they see as the ‘proper’ edifice, that our lives should take shape as.) Happily, I trust the Eternal Architect of life, and rest in the vision that I am given for today’s efforts. I know that the application of my best efforts, in each of my “Todays,” will, ultimately, result in something worthy. This frees me of concern for whatever the “finished product” will be. Giving my best to what is at hand is my immediate responsibility.

I am completely content with allowing Life to take care of whatever the future might be. Not my job! Had I leaned on my past understandings, I would have settled for some lesser structure that would have disappointed and failed to provide comfort for my Spirit. I am now enjoying my daily installments toward something that I am certain will be far better than I could have ever imagined. (For I celebrate my present state of Being as exponentially better than I had ever hoped for.)

I know that all of this may sound at least a bit ‘spatial’ and abstract. But I ask that you permit my thoughts a place in the quiet of your consideration … that your own Inner Voice might whisper whatever Truth or Encouragement that may germinate from my whimsy.

Ultimately, I do think that we can, together, find some measure of comfort in considering this Moment as an acceptable, and even satisfying, step in the direction of our meaningfully enjoyable lifetime. I know that your love and encouraging support have made the structure of my Being much more sound and comfortable. And I thank you for your kind and generous contribution. I bid you “Good building!”

[loving smile]

Our 'Youthful' Choice

I was QUITE resolute in my determination to NOT watch (yet AGAIN) the presentation of that well-worn (and recreated twice) film, The Bishop’s Wife.

Then (don’t you know) there it was … playing on the television when I concluded one of my many delightful telephone conversations with Mom. (Today is her birthday.) So, YES! … I am watching it even as I type this little note to You … My Lovely Friend.

‘Tis through eyes moistened by tears of awareness of all that my Spirit and Being are, that I write these words of loving encouragement and endearment to you. This precious bit of a movie awakens all of that in me. It always has. (Which is why I had determined to not open all of Me, by viewing it again.) [smile]

Please allow me to share a bit of my reflections motivated by one little line spoken by ‘Dudley’ (the angelic character in the film [played by Cary Grant].) He said, "The only people who grow old are the ones who are born that way." And I must take exception to that statement. (Those who know me best can easily understand how I can take exception to [and even involve others in my reflections on] a statement from a 1948 movie.) [grin]

I tell You, Precious Reader, that the only people, who grow old, are the ones who make the choice to be so. Happily (for us all) some are mindful of … and choose to stay in touch with … the glories and richness of their youthful Selves. The opportunity to remain forever fresh in our perceptions; to maintain the giddy joys of curiosity; and to glory in newly realized sensations and experiences, is at the disposal of each of our individual Spirit’s.

I lovingly bid each of us (yes … me too!) a constant renewal of those joys, glories, and freshness.

I love You (I REALLY do!)

Our Annual 'Over the Hedge' Visit ... Finale'

by Michael Fry and T Lewis






I pray your "finale'," to life's momentary Circumstance, be equally celebratory and whimsically silly. (I do so enjoy a good "silly!") [smile]

Loving You ...

It's Ice-Cream

We were having one of our extended telephone chats … one in which all of her current interests, concerns, and imperatives were on the ‘table.’ We discussed family, parenting, love-life, and long-term, as well as short-term, plans. She was describing how she feels about ‘Him’ … and interrupted the flow of her reflections with, “Is it OK to feel about him that way?”

I paused (for it takes a moment for Life to whisper to my Muse … and then a moment longer for the Visual [for I process life’s input through visualization … it’s how my mind works] to be passed through to my waiting Spirit.) “Do you have a favorite flavor of Ice Cream?” I asked. With only the slightest of stuttering pauses, she answered, “Well … yes … yes I do!” “There you go then!” I replied. “Did you hear the confidence and certainty with which you just gave me you answer to my ice-cream question? There was neither pause, nor waiver in your absolute clarity on the finality … and ‘rightness’ … of your personal preference and opinion on your choice of ice-creams.

“You are ready and willing to state your election on that matter … without regard for the opinions or preferences of Others. You know, with an absolute certainty, what your taste-buds respond to with spontaneous enthusiasm. And, while you have just over forty years of experience with everyone in your personal world challenging, belittling, condemning, demeaning, discouraging, and undermining every decision and choice that you have ever expressed or selected … no one could ever dispute your personal ice-cream flavor choice.

“You have all of these years of habituated uncertainty … frightened insecurity … and absence of confidence … in the merit and worth of your intuitive and inspired opinions, yearnings, inclinations, and desires. This has been so in every arena of your life. But … you are absolute about ice-cream.

“Please hear me when I tell you that you are brilliant beyond your fondest imaginings. You are wise beyond all of those Voices that seek to hold you in their controlling grasp. You are insightful beyond the horizons of the immediate. So, Sweetheart, listen to … have confidence in … honor and trust what that amazing Heart, Mind, and Spirit tell you. Including how you feel about ‘Him!’

“Because, My Precious, it’s all ice-cream!”

At Close of Day

I would ... in every instance ... affirm Life. And, in so doing, I reflect on Campbell's admonition to embrace Mortality itself ... which is to accept the fundamental Truth that lies in Mortality not only being the prime condition of life ... but, also, the underlying source of all suffering. To confront Mortality, is to dispense with all of that "hocus pocus" that breeds Fear and Uncertainty. I like living in that realm of mental, spiritual, and emotional Liberty.

I am ... We are ... Mortal. This is the foundation upon which all rests.With acceptance of ... and comfort with ... our mortality, we can, genuinely, begin our unfettered celebration of living. I find great comfort and assurance in this Truth.


(Can you believe that I am yet still in the 'Introduction' to The Power of Myth? All these years, since my first reading of this amazing work ... and I still find myself enchanted with nearly every phrase. Thank You, Patient Reader, for your forgiving company. [smile])

Give Your Heart a Smile

If you want to, momentarily, tune out all of today's Frown-Makers, and Soul-Saddeners ... Give your Self a real treat and enjoy the inclusion of Adam Bender in your awareness. You can read some of his story in THIS article in Gimundo.com.

You can, also, give your Self a quick boost by letting Adam show of a bit ... here ...



There! How's that for a change in your day's pace?! [loving smile]

The "Why" Behind "The Cost"

Here, I am sharing a bit of a “peek” behind the veil of what You would usually know. It is customary for you to see whatever I post … and nothing of the pre-posting thought or considerations, nor any of the post-posting reflections. After publishing the little thing about “The Cost,” I was having a not-too-frequent moment of questioning. “Why” I asked myself, “do you even go into those ponderous areas of philosophical and oh-so-burdensome topics?” And (as has, so frequently, been the case) my precious Lady Muse delivered (in tangible and real-time form) Life’s answer to my frustrated uncertainties.

I (just a few hours ago) received a phone call from a Friend. She shared with me some updates of inconsequential and usual stuff about her life’s goings on … and then, as if in after-thought, something that rang the bell of my needed reassurance. She told me that she and her eldest son had read the “The Cost” piece … together. Then he and she went fishing … (He [who has no fondness for fishing … let alone the mandatory handling of those wriggling worms used for bait] caught five fish … she [who is an avid (if not maniacal) fisherwoman, caught none. (teehee) But I digress.) … and they, whilst in the leisurely enjoyment of five hours of midnight-to-five AM fishing, had a discussion of what they had read together. In the course of their discussion, she was delightfully reassured of her son’s grasp of his personal sense of responsibility, for seeing to it that he invest, all of himself, in living a life of full satisfaction, and enjoyment … through an awareness, and appreciation, of his innate gifts, and abilities.

This was a huge thing for her. For, in August, this son is to be off, to far-away Oklahoma, to pursue his post-graduate degrees in his chosen field. Knowing that he has such a firm grip on the foundational precepts of a personal responsibility, for a healthy, productive, and happy future, gives her a wonderful sense of comfort and peace.

“There!” my Lady Muse said. “There is your demonstration of Life’s loving wisdom in ,motivating you to share your thoughts and feelings in that piece. You took some of that ‘compost’ of your past … and let Life apply it around that developing young life. Ya done OK, John-Michael! Now lighten up!” And, I am thusly, quite nicely, reassured. Hence, I have had those nagging doubts and hesitations about my seeming propensity for writing about such “heavy” and cumbersome considerations, allayed. And, because I do enjoy making You, Dear reader, privy to all that is the Truth of who I am, and why I am … I am now sharing, with You, this peek into something of the “why” in my doing so.

And, as always, it is my intent to serve you well, as your faithful Friend, and ever-willing Servant.

"Who are you?" ... He Asked

It has been a year, and a quarter, since I last offered this story, here. Because it was a defining moment (in many ways) in my life-walk, and many new Folks are now visiting here, I will, probably, resurrect it once, each year. With the spirit of this Happening encouraging me, I am planning to offer myself, as a Reader, to the Principal of an Elementary School just down the road from my home. It is, what is referred to as, an "At Risk School." This means that the populace of the school is made up of many who would be of the same ilk, as the young Lad, of this Story. I present the experience with a prayer that You, My Dear Reader, will find some encouragement, insight, or merit, of value to you, in it. That said ... here 'tis ...

“Who are you?” was the question thrust upon me by the challenging five year old kindergarten student as he set his back stiffly in its most erect pose. Pretty impressive stuff from a child toward a physically imposing adult male who was a total unknown to the child. Not to be channeled into his obviously well-rehearsed performance, I countered with “More to the point, (pretty cool, eh… using phraseology that was alien to the lad) … just who are you?!” Now we were engaged in the stand-off. Two duelers faced with the unspoken, but clearly understood standard that 'he who gives the answer first is the loser.’ But, here I genuinely wanted to know just who this fellow was. Not just his label … his name, but who he wanted me to know him to be.

We waited. Others at the service desk of the elementary school library ... waited. All eyes were now fixed on the young lad. He was, quite obviously, uneasy with this turn in a game that had historically garnered for him control of those upon whom he leveled his attack. Then, into the breach came a young man (an 'advanced’ age of eight years… but clearly an 'upper-classman’ in this arena) who turned to the boy (who for convenience, I will call Robert) and said “Hey man, the guy really wants to know who you are … you know … like what kind of a person are you?” I was shouting a silent inner cheer for this interceder who so beautifully cleared the air.

“I am bad” came the reply from Robert’s not-so-defiant lips. I was stunned … silence reigned at the library counter. All … students, and staff … were stilled with this declaration from a five-year-old boy … and I knew that this was a moment of pivotal significance. Not only for Robert; but also for the lad who had prompted him into this announcement; for the children who stood in silent recognition that this boy had made an honest, candid, and obviously painful statement of his inner perception of himself. I looked into Robert’s eyes ... really looked … focused into him. I gave him a moment to recognize the fact that, for me, right then, in that moment there existed no one in the world but Him.

Then I smiled a smile of appreciation and respect and said “Wow!, You are really smart! You are making a really good joke on someone! I am impressed! You must be … like a movie actor or something. Because I am a really smart man. And I know about how people are. And I am really good at spotting good people, and bad people (I then turned to the librarian and asked her to validate the truths that I had just stated, as to my credibility … for The Moment was at hand.) I can tell that you are really a very good guy … I know this… I can tell every time. So you must be making a super good joke on someone to make them think that a really good guy … is bad. I think that you must be a terrific actor.” And, My Dear Reader, I wish that I had at my disposal the ability to adequately portray the look of utter … Hope … that came across Robert’s face. Here this person of a mere five years was … soundly convinced that he, a human being, just the initial sprouting of an individual … was inherently, hopelessly, and forever bad. And some big old, imposing, white-bearded man was telling him that it was but a joke … a misunderstanding … a folly. I asked him if he would do me the honor of being my friend and we exchanged names and a bit more about ourselves.

I will not drone on about the comments from teachers and counselors who later shared notes with each other about this transformed young man. He had, obviously, made some adjustment in his game and had decided to only 'fool’ others into thinking him to be bad on selective occasions. And we enjoyed seeing each other and complimenting each others’ roles when I had the weekly opportunity to read to his class in the library. But the point in this is not this isolated happening.

The message, so clearly and eloquently communicated by Robert and his Moment, is this. We all … every single one of us … have an inner sense of who we are. Like Robert, we have been given this “script” by otherwise loving, caring, well-intentioned (yes, I do know that I am being generous here) Significant Others throughout the course of our lives. And … we buy it. We give these people our trust, our confidence, our faith in their 'superior’ powers of judgment, and we live out the roles that they hand us.

I ask that you put yourself in the person of Robert when I asked him “Who told you that you are bad? Was it someone here at school? Or was it at home? Who did you fool into believing this joke?” and ask yourself, Dear Friend, “Who am I listening to? What qualifies that person to fix a defining label on my spirit? Why am I succumbing to this influence? Wouldn’t I enjoy taking up a script of my own choosing and playing a new role that meets my inner desires?” I do not suggest that this is as easily accomplished in the well over-rehearsed and time-reinforced role of the more experienced adult. But I do offer the hope.

And in that hope, I remain, as always, Your loving Friend and willing Servant.