A Better Man | Playing For Change featuring Keb' Mo'

'Should you notice me singing to myself (which I often do) as I amble through the Market, the chances are pretty good that this is what I am singing ...



I challenge you to try to be "Down" with this song on your Heart! [loving smile]

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.

"The Human Touch" revisited

In this day of applied Programs, Plans, Initiatives, and Systems, there is a void that is all too often left wanting. That want is addressed by this work of Spencer Michael Free. He (from his perspective as a practicing physician) spoke to an elementary requirement of the Human Spirit.

In response to a sweet reminder of this post (thank you Maria), I ask that we consider the power and potential that awaits each of us… if we will but offer our own personal provision of “The Human Touch.”

The Human Touch

'Tis the human touch in this world that counts,
The touch of your hand and mine,
Which means far more to the fainting heart
Than shelter and bread and wine;
For shelter is gone when the night is o’er,
And bread lasts only for a day,
But the touch of the hand and the sound of the voice
Sing on in the soul alway.


Spencer Michael Free (1856-1938)
Free graduated from the College of Physicians and Surgeons of the Johns Hopkins University in 1880, and practiced medicine and surgery for some fifty years thereafter. In addition to some one hundred medical papers, he wrote many poems.


IMAGE: Maria Brandstetter, BBC

Minister of Manure

It was in those sacred hours of early-morning quietness on a day that found me in the throws of a frustrated and discouraged struggle with my spirit. (I find these times that are without interruption or distraction an ideal time for dialogue with my Maker.) On this particular occasion, I was engaged in some strong bemoaning regarding my lifetime of losses, failures, frustrations and disappointments.

“Dear Father, I know that all that has occurred in my life has a purpose. I, as You see clearly in my heart of hearts, have complete confidence in Your control and purpose for my life. But, Father, with all due respect, I would surely appreciate some illumination on the picture of my life. It seems to me that everything in my life, every relationship, every career choice, every circumstance that this world uses to measure ‘success’ has turned to ‘dung’.” (I must note that I did not actually use the word ‘dung’ in that discussion, but I can be far more candid in my conversations with the Creator than would be proper in this text.) “So please give me some understanding of the relevance of this life of wasted effort that I have invested so much in.” Then came, by way of that distinctly clear inner Voice, His response.


“This place, known to you as your personal world, is My Garden. I manage the preparations, the plantings, the nurturing, the pruning, and the harvest. You are quite right, all of your past could well be summarized, by the unknowing, as an accumulation of ‘dung’ (He used my actual descriptive term.) But, John-Michael, if you will agree to place that pile of waste at my disposal, I will direct you to those of my special ‘plants’ in My garden that are readied by circumstance (at My direction) for nourishment. Your ‘dung’ can become very valuable ‘manure’ for beneficial use or, at your option, can remain a smelly pile of unpleasant waste. What you must be willing to accept is the reality that it may not be your role in my garden to be the prize blossom or the award winning produce. What is required of you is your willingness to be the nurturing and sustaining dispenser of the manure of your experience and insight for the production of successes in others.”

“Oh, so I am being called to the ‘Ministry of Manure’” I laughingly responded. “Quite right” He affirmed, and we laughed together. (It is a good thing to laugh with the Almighty.) And so it has been for a decade or better now. I am most content to be His designated Minister of Manure in the small patch of Life’s garden in which I live.


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

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

Seeing the Blossoms Amongst the Thorns

My thoughts, in March of 07 (when I first posted this bit) were on the confluence of four separate streams of truth, contributed by sources, both of today and many yesterdays. Here is what I said then (illustrated with images of a terribly inhospitable-looking plant which offers (if One notices) heavenly blossoms in the midst of its life-protecting thorns)...

My thoughts today are the confluence of four separate streams of truth contributed by sources both of today and many yesterdays. I am grateful to Life for my conversation with SA wherein I offered something akin to “All you need do is ... BE available ... to the new and desired circumstances that Life will bring to your awareness.” Her response was “And I will not be available if I am busy with the old and undesirable. Right?” And she was, of course, quite right.

Then I was given the gift (recently) of a vehicle-to-vehicle visit (him, on his way to work … me, finishing my newspaper deliveries) with BLY and his offering of “It’s all good … all you have to do is find it.” He then smiled a knowing smile and added “There! That will give you something to ponder.” And I admitted, to him, that I would, indeed, ponder that thought (or, as he added further “That will be a new cud for you to chew.” as he smiled again and drove away toward his work place, and I continued on my newspaper delivery route.) Life was, once again, speaking through the insights and in the inspired voices of special Lives in my world.

By the time that I had finished my delivery duties, I was certain of what I am obliged to offer to you, My Dear Reader, today. Four elements from four sources (two of whom I have already revealed.) The other two are the biblical psalmist, and Dr. Alfred Adler (both of whom I have quoted in previous messages to you.)

Beginning with SA’s “And I will not be available if I am busy with the old and undesirable.” I reflect on those imperatives that demand the attention of our minds, and insist on the focus of our activities, in our daily walk. These imperatives are (for the most part) forces that we are not even conscious of.

They are instilled in, and reinforced in, us by voices (often well-intentioned and genuinely caring) demanding our attention. From our earliest moments of life we have concerned individuals warning us against (what could be) threats to our 'success' in life. Voices of family, peers, significant others of all sorts and description. All insisting that we conform, adhere, and mold ourselves to their perspectives on every element of our lives. For they have the "experience" and know what is "Best" for us. I liken them to the thorns of life. Those aspects, of our daily existence, that warn us of life’s threats and survival demands … but have, as well, their own potential for inflicting emotional, physical, material (and even psychological) harm if not balanced with what BLY referred to as the “all good.” Those traits, idiosyncratic gifts and unique talents that are Life's Gift to our individuality. (And, please note, I do not discount the element of necessity to hearing and respecting these voices … to ignore the “thorns” of life [those potential 'pit-falls' of bad habits and practices] and would be nothing short of foolhardy. Thorns are, by their very nature and design, early warning systems and defense mechanisms necessary to survival. But they are NOT the Mission of the Plant.)

For, My Darling Reader, to internalize the thorns to the exclusion of Blossoms … the “all good” of life … is to create an inner Monster that will cripple and slowly devour us. I cannot count the number of individuals, who I have had opportunity to share life's walk with, who have had themselves damaged, stunted, lamed, and/or (at the very least) hindered by the words and actions of significant others in their lives. Thus triggering their survival responses of focusing solely on the threat of supposed thorns of inadequacy, self-worthlessness, incompetence or other limiting mind-traps. This produces a constant fear of, and attention to avoidance of, these sets of perceived flaws. Thus making their lives a miserable succession of unhappy attempts to overcome self-imposed shackles of Self denial and devaluation. And they, in that state, are not “available” to the beauty and joy of the other presence in their lives. The Presence that has shared their living moments ... unseen and even unsuspected. The Blossoms that are their unrealized Glory. And The Blossom is the purpose of that 'Plant' in Life's 'garden,' that is ... us!

Those blossoms of talents, gifts, abilities, and personality traits that are right there all the while … but have not entered into what Dr. Adler called “our realm of phenomenological awareness.” That is to say … those phenomena that are the always-present “good” do not even exist to our awareness when our focus is locked on the “thorn” which becomes the entirety of our existence. Great is my joy when I can reveal a glimpse of their Bloom to someone who has been languishing without a prior awareness of its presence. When I can awaken and expand the view of One whose vision has been blinded by the thorn-meisters in their life.

So, I must slightly amend BLY’s thought to read, instead, “It’s all good… all you have to do is be available to it.” And … yes, the thorns … the details … the demands … the necessities of life are also good and proper in life’s balance. And therein lies the key … BALANCE. All that we know (and all that we have yet to discover) is created in a wonderful balance and with a glorious purpose. This I am absolutely certain of, Dear Friend.

Thus, I can, once again, present the imperative of the Psalmist; “Be still… and know.” Please stop the repetition of behaviors that leave no opportunity for awareness of the new. Please permit yourself the refreshment of discovery of the “all good” that has always been present … waiting for your acknowledgment and celebration. Those undiscovered or unrealized talents ... your own abilities to 'see' life differently ... and communicate that fresh perspective to your personal world ... those who are hungry for what you ... and only you have to offer. Still yourself … step off of the treadmill of habit, custom, and familiarity … and breathe in a fresh breath of the “all goodness” awaiting your appreciation and embracing. Give your Self the gift of the complete You. BLY is quite right … “It is all good.” SA is quite right … “I will not be available if I am busy with the old and undesirable.” May YOU be available to that better Self ... just waiting within your Person ... for recognition.

NAMASTE

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

I Must Sing

I must sing.
Sometime in Solo … a cappella …
In Chamber of silent solitude.
No bell, chime, or chord to establish a tone.
Neither harmonies of support nor Unison Partner.
But singly … solely responding to my Soul’s demand.

I must sing.
And fly on wings, of celebratory currents.
Rejoicing in Choir, and sustained by Orchestral might …
A chorus of like-spirited Souls …
And Orchestra of harmonious circumstance.
Glorious, yet so rare, these moments of oneness with others.

I must sing.
For silence is no option.
I will not be stilled, by absence of support …
Nor will I allow the pressings of life, to silence me.
My world cries for an elevating theme …
And each life encountered, longs for a song.

John-Michael
22 October 2008

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)

The Gainseville Goon

I shudder with the chill of deeply instilled and reinforced embarrassment and shame at the behavior of this mental pygmy who parades his stupidity, and self-aggrandizing ignorance, before the entire world in today’s press.

My very personal response is born of many decades of living under the misguided tutelage of ill-educated, intellectually immature, and sectarian-biased men who exercised power and influence over the minds and lives of thousands of willing followers. Simply summarized … I lived in the hermetically-sealed sphere of a Southern Baptist. I am, as I write this, an ordained Southern Baptist Deacon. Yet … I smile!

My history is one of listening to the dire warnings (issued from the pulpit … with carefully selected biblical reference supports) that God would destroy the world if we trespassed into His domain with a space program … a visit from my pastor’s wife (to my place of employment) warning me of the dangers of dating a girl outside of our faith (she, obviously, was unaware of the extraordinary body that the girl in question was gifted with!) [silly grin] Even worse, the girl was reputed to be (brace yourself) a CATHOLIC! Oh my!! … extended meetings of the Congregation laboring over the fear-laced question of admitting Negros (they were neither ‘Blacks’ nor ‘African Americans’ at the time. Only “those Men who want to date your sister.” … and then, the Ultimate “straw that broke the proverbial back of the proverbial camel” … the declaration (made in an open address by the president of the Southern Baptist Convention) that “God does not hear the prayers of the Jews.” And here, for all of my lifetime, we had been taught that the Jews are “God’s chosen People.” Go figure!

Well, my Dear Friends, that ripped it for me. I just couldn’t imagine worshiping a deity that is hearing-impaired. So I have absented myself from religious services with those who continue in such pursuits, lest my presence cause dissension and/or conflict. (As you may well suspect … silent acquiescence is not my style.) [smile]

So, you can begin to imagine my gut-response to that tiny (as measured on my personal scale of significance) man’s rantings about his determination to have a “Qur’an burning” this week. Oh yes! My Spirit is well-conditioned to readiness for just such insanities. But … what to do to allay my disgust and revulsion?

It seems to me that the only rational and healthy response to ignorance and prejudice is education and an embracing of the Subject at hand. Towit: I went online and ordered (from Amazon.com) …

"The Qur'an (Oxford World's Classics Hardcovers)"
Muhammad A. S. Abdel Haleem

Let’s just see for ourselves what all of this fuss is all about.

The antics of the Idiot in Gainesville, Florida ... I leave to the influences and powers of Time and Eternity.

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.

In Our Hands

I ... You ... each and every One of Us

hold, in our hands ...

in the grasp of our will and control,

the Happiness

of our Self ... and every Life

that we touch.

Be gentle.

Please.

Really Good ...

Alecia phoned to bring me up to date with current happenings in her world. I must say that hearing from her is one of my life’s richest highlights. In the course of our brief conversation (she was calling on a quick break between classes) she spoke of one of her students. It seems that this particular young man is challenged by his pencil sharpener. You know the sort. That tiny plastic holder of a metal blade that one introduces the pencil into and turns the pencil until the little ribbon of removed wood reveals a freshly pointed lead. Well, this particular maneuver is beyond the abilities of the young man in question. He continually finds himself with a lead that is broken off inside the sharpener. Thus, he cannot accomplish the sharpening task.

I should point out here the fact that Alecia is certified as a Teacher of students who are identified as being in need of the program that addresses the individual requirements of ‘Exceptional Students.’ That is, students who life has presented with all manner of physical, emotional, and mental challenges. And this young man (age 11 or so) has had his particular challenges manifested in the tangible form of a repeatedly-broken pencil lead.

Having addressed this difficulty every day for an entire week, Alecia had the student confront her with a declaration, “You are really good at this! You should do it for a living.” … then a grateful smile. She thanked him and thought, to herself, “I am doing this for a living!” as she enjoyed the humor in that recognition. “With all of my education, specialized training, and accumulated experience, I am un-jamming broken pencil leads in cheap plastic pencil-sharpeners 'for a living'." And she just had to share the humor of this reality with her Dad (me.)

We had a good laugh, and I suggested that she might want to embellish her resume with this newly developed ‘professional skill.’ Then she was off to her next awaiting requirement at the school. It was then … in the ‘after-glow’ of reflection … that I allowed my many years of working with my son, Matthew, and those who comprised his world (those Individuals struggling with just the sort of hurdles that Alecia addresses every day) to inform me.

Imagine,if you will, the position of someone who sees everyone around him accomplishing the mundane and ordinary task of sharpening a pencil … and not being able to achieve success in your own effort to do the same. Place yourself in the stead of that One who is compelled to ask for assistance … yet again, and again, for an entire week … with this elementary chore.

Which brings me to a contemplative moment of consideration … as I ask … what opportunity to un-jam Someone’s ‘pencil-sharpener’ are we addressing in our individual life-path today? Are we edifying that Other as we pause with their moment of need? Or do we consider all of our Station, Position, experience, Role, expertise, or Importance of too great a significance, or value, to dally with such small and bothersome matters as we are being asked, by Life, to contemplate.

I would hope, for all of us, that, as the scriptures so beautifully entreat, we would ... “in whatever you do in word, or deed ... act with your intentions directed toward all that is eternal and the most pure ... giving thanks for the gift, of each opportunity, to do … and to be … what benefits others.” (The book of Colossians chapter 3 verse 17 [John-Michael’s version])

I pray that it be said, of each of us, by every Life that we are privileged to touch, “You are really good at this!”

Lovingly …

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.

A Place for Our Mind to Dwell

I had a lengthy chat with One who is very dear and precious to me. This lovely Being was vexed by a 'Friend's insistence on constantly bringing up names and incidents that have hurtful and unhappy histories attached to them.

How do I explain to this darling One the fact that ...
Some choose to dwell ...

... when, with the same effort, they could be ...

They elect ...

over ...

Yes! I know. It seems incomprehensible (at best)
that with ...

served up and ready ...

There are folks who prefer to focus on ...

As you can guess, I will be addressing this topic
(at some greater length)
in a Post, to follow.

[smiling]

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

Aristotle (pretty smart guy) on FRIENDSHIP

The ancients listed friendship among the highest of virtues. It was an essential element in the fully flourishing life. “For without friends,” Aristotle says, “no one would choose to live, though he had all other goods.” Words worth remembering in a world of perishable “goods.”

According to Aristotle, friendship either is, or it involves, a state of Character, a Virtue. There are three kinds of friendship. These are based on pleasure in another’s company (friendships of Pleasure), or on usefulness in association (friendships of Utility), or on mutual admiration (friendships in Virtue). All are essential to the good life, and the best sorts of friends will not only admire each other’s excellence but take pleasure in each other’s company and find their association to be of mutual advantage. Here is a portion of Aristotle’s classic discussion.

From: The Nicomachean Ethics

"As the motives to friendship differ in kind, so do the respective feelings and Friendships. The species then of Friendship are three, in number equal to the objects of it, since in the line of each there may be “mutual affection ... mutually known.”

Now they who have Friendship for one another desire one another’s Good according to the motive of their Friendship; accordingly, they whose motive is Utility have no Friendship for one another really, but only insofar as some good arises to them from one another.

And they whose motive is Pleasure are in like case: I mean, they have Friendship for men of easy pleasantry, not because they are of a given character but because they are pleasant to themselves. So then, they whose motive to Friendship is Utility love their friends for what is good to themselves; they whose motive is Pleasure do so for what is pleasurable to themselves; that is to say, not insofar as the friend beloved is but insofar as he is useful or pleasurable. These Friendships are a matter of result; since the object is not beloved in that he is the man he is, but in that he furnishes advantage or pleasure, as the case may be.

Such Friendships are, of course, very liable to dissolution if the parties do not continue alike: I mean, that the others cease to have any Friendship for them when they are no longer pleasurable or useful. Now it is the nature of both pleasure and utility not to be permanent, but constantly varying: so, of course, when the motive which made them friends is vanished, the Friendship likewise dissolves; since it existed only relatively to those circumstances…

That then is perfect Friendship which subsists between those who are good and whose similarity consists in their goodness: for these wish one another’s good in similar ways; insofar as they are good (and good they are in themselves); and those are specially friends who wish good to their friends for their sakes, because they feel thus toward them on their own account and not as a mere matter of result; so the Friendship between these men continues to subsist so long as they are good; and goodness, we know, has a principle of permanence….

Rare it is probable Friendships of this kind will be, because men of this kind are rare. ... [ Note: With regard to the matter of 'rarity', it is worthy to note that, given the definitions of values inherent to Temperaments and Personality Styles (as identified by the “Myers/Briggs” methodology) those individuals given to the “Utility” and “Pleasure” motivations, as their most NATURAL and easily followed inclinations, make up approximately 85% of the general population. For these (the vast majority of the population) to seek the "Good" motivation requires some determined effort of Will.] ... Besides, all requisite qualifications being presupposed, there is further required time and intimacy: for, as the proverb says, men cannot know one another “till they have eaten the requisite quantity of salt together”; nor can they, in fact, admit one another to intimacy (much less be friends) till each has appeared to the other and been proved to be a fit object of Friendship. They who speedily commence an interchange of friendly actions may be said to wish to be friends, but they are not so unless they are also proper objects of Friendship and mutually known to be such: that is to say … a desire for Friendship may arise quickly but not Friendship itself."

_______________________________________

With the insights stated by Aristotle and restated countless times since then by innumerable others in various forms ... it should be clear to all that we do not all share the same hopes for, nor desires in, our friends. It is, then, my humble opinion that it might suite us better (and be far more fun), if we could celebrate the rare gifts in Friends that Life has given us; exercise the particular senses of 'taste' that satisfy our requirements for new friends; and avoid the easily available habit of condemning others for not living up to our unique set of expectations and/or qualifications for our "Friends."

I found ... in my personal quest to find a means for understanding (and accepting) the vagaries of those supposing to, at one moment, present themselves as Friend ... then assume themselves to be but passing Acquaintances ... that Dear Aristotle's observations were of great help. I offer them to You, Dear Reader and Friend, in the hope that your happiness and comfort will be similarly served.

Acceptance ... Respect ... Honor ... and Appreciation of each other - as we are - makes for a delightful world in which to celebrate the wonder of who we are. Just a thought ... [smile]


This item submitted with credit and thanks to the work of William J. Bennet in his "Virtues of Friendship and Loyalty." (A wonderful idea for a gift)

"We Need To Talk !" (please)

It is in the moment created by some extraordinary circumstance that we are presented with the opportunity to make dramatic change in our lives. I have been blessed with a few such opportunities.

“Where are their fathers?” I asked of the director of the United Cerebral Palsy Center as we discussed the challenges faced by the small children being cared for in his facility. “Oh, they frequently say that they ‘just can’t deal with the situation’ and leave“ he replied. I learned, then, that not everyone commits to change when immovable or uncompromisable circumstances present themselves. Some choose to simply ‘run for the hills.’

I know well the grip of fear when life declares, through that aforementioned 'uncompromisable circumstance,' How unwelcome that "WE NEED TO TALK!" moment is. The “need to talk” imperative is never a pleasant one ... whether presented by our unavoidable inner voice (our conscience, or soul-voice) or the challenging voice of another. The message is always the same “you must consider something different and/or acknowledge present insufficiencies.” And none of us eagerly embrace either an insufficiency or a change. (It has been well said by some ancient sage, “It is easier for man to accept the miseries of a poor life than for him to confront the fears inherent to change.” And I can affirm that truth from my own struggling experience.)

Hence I am writing to let you know that the beginning point for my venture, into all of my Tomorrows ... was to take an isolated moment with myself and say, “WE NEED TO TALK.” (I then refused the natural survival impulse to' run for the hills.')

I found that talking with one’s inner self requires both asking and listening (with patience) for answers. “As a man thinketh … so is he.” came to my awareness. Please make note here … it is not what he thinks, not a matter of quantity of data considered … but HOW he thinks … with what motivating qualities. That is, in other terms, “where my thinking was coming from” or what my motivations were. We are not talking about “goals” or “dreams” here, but instead, the “music” driving the “lyrics” of our thoughts ... the “core” of us. I had to decide on an overarching Theme for my thinking.

If our intentions are self-serving then they must be acknowledged to be just exactly that without the prejudice of any possible outside perspectives. If the mind-set of “I am looking out for what will serve my best interests” is what you choose to drive your voice, then have the courage to say so to yourself and to the world around you. This “sit-down” is just with yourself and no outside valuation is appropriate. If your intentions are ridiculously altruistic, then that should be the set foundation for a confidence in the thinking’s value and worth. Remember … As you think, so you are. It is in this mode that you will find yourself thinking things that, heretofore, you have never thought (perhaps for fear of judgment, mockery, or rejection.) In my case, I became aware of a voice that was not familiar … a spiritual (though, most definitely, not “religious”) voice that expressed thoughts beyond those to which I was accustomed.

I found comfort in the knowledge that all of the world’s cultures have been aware, from earliest time, of an influence that shades our thinking. We have identified this influence as “higher” or “lower”, as light/dark, evil/good, positive/negative, yen/yang, etc… How often have we heard the well worn “you see the glass half-empty/half’-full” label for our thinking or predisposition? Such is the “music” to which I refer when I make mention of the foundation of all of our thinking. This is, most definitely, NOT a matter of attitude or whimsical mood. This is the “Spiritual bent” that would guide my thought processes. The sort of identity that enables people to make statements like, “He seems to see the potential for good in every situation.” That kind of Spirit versus the “You can be sure that he will find something to complain about.” mode. The “Well, you may not know what his decision will be, but you can be sure that it will be based on ____" (and you can fill in the blank with the character trait that is certain to drive that choice to be made by him.)

Herein lies the “As he thinks” mechanism. There is NOTHING else, in this life, that is in our complete control. In this and only this can we exercise complete sway … the spirit to which we trust all of the processing of our thought. We actively choose the “As” of our thinking. Our basic ability to think may be impaired or even enhanced by Life’s touch, but regardless of our capacity for mental function, we all (with some clinical exceptions) maintain moment-by-moment control of our willingness to surrender our thoughts to a greater or lesser, bitter or better, higher or lower Influence. This is the ultimate power of our will. So, my Dear, Patient Reader, it became clear to me that I had to elect the Master Control for all the choices, measures, and elections that I suspected lay ahead for me and those who would be affected by those calculations. (And I knew, with absolute certainty, that much of what I chose would not find ready favor, or reception, with many in my world.)

I recall an old story that illustrates this principal to my satisfaction. It seems that an old man was visiting with his guru for the purpose of learning, further, how to discipline his thinking. “It is like there are two dogs fighting over control of my mind” the old man offered, “the dog of anger pulls one way while the dog of peace pulls the other.” “And which dog wins the battle?” asked the guru. “The one that I say ‘sic-em’ to” answered the man. You do, of course, see my point. The “dogs” of influence and guiding perspective will ALWAYS be there, vying for dominance over the “musical soundtrack” accompanying our thought processes. The choice of music is constantly in our control… soothing/clashing, harmonious/discordant, uplifting/downgrading, … etc., etc. We, though, have the one and only deciding vote to determine which voice is told to “sic”, or take dominance over, the other.

I hope, in this reflection, to encourage not only your own confidence in, and willingness to be at peace with, your individual option for your thinking processes ... but also to heartily encourage you to be carefully discriminating about those who you surround yourself with. Life can be far more enjoyable if we will exercise considerate care in the creating of beneficial settings for comfortable and mutually respectful exchanges of insights. Settings that will serve as a stage for a harmonious intercourse as opposed to an arena or field of battle ... first within ourselves, and then with the world around us. It is critical to recognize the kind of “music” accompanying the messages offered by those with whom we hope to achieve a harmonious exchange. Which dog is in control of each of your spirits?

Can you imagine anything more pleasant than two people meeting with a spirit of generosity (for example) motivating both of them? “I want to be more generous than you.” “No, no, please allow me to be more generous than you.” The possibilities boggle the mind. But reality is, alas, most often, quite different.

The point of beginning is, however, the same for us all … LISTENING to the “music“ of our own spiritual soundtrack. And then deciding … actively and responsibly … how we want to “orchestrate “ all of our thinking ... for all of our tomorrows.

Now ... some two-score years removed from those earliest confrontations with those irksome "We need to talk!" moments ... I can tell you that through all of the darkest of moments; the most vexing of conflicts; painful misunderstandings; heart-breaking losses; and debilitating anxieties ... because I did, indeed, make those specific and precise choices as to the set of my Spirit's sail ... it is well with my Soul! And that, My Darling Friend, makes for a peaceful smile in the quiet of my Todays.




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

How Real?

There is always the remote chance that someone reading my thoughts, or engaging me in a bit of a chat, focused on our responsibility to the Moment, will question "How Real" my actual practice of what I profess, might be.

I am sharing today's living demonstration of just such a happening. (Mind you ... I would never offer my personal response as any sort of 'standard' ... only my own individual choice of "Muse satisfaction." [smile])

'Twas upon seeing a very familiar name on a list of fellow graduates from my high School. Good ol' reliable Muse whispered her conspiratorial "Lest she never know!" And I clicked on the "Send Email" icon.

The message speaks for itself ...

Hi [name withheld],

It has taken these many years ... and Life 'nudging' me through Mom's reminding me of the instance (she was always very fond of you,[and knows how much I cared about you]) ... for me to muster the courage to confess what caused me to allow our budding relationship to wither.

Please know that I was totally enchanted with you. And on that night (that you have probably completely forgotten by now) when I was taking you home in our family car, I stopped and told you hurriedly that I had to "check on the strange noise coming from the rear of the car." What I did not then ... and it has taken 'til now to ... have the courage to tell you, was that I had an undiagnosed problem with my bladder. I, in fact, had to frantically get out of the car and hide behind the open trunk, to deal with the fact that my bladder had failed me. Yep! I wet myself. Hence, when I got you home, I could not get out of the car and walk you to the door. My pants were wet. (Believe me, this is still painful to recall.) I was humiliated beyond words.

When I heard later that you Dad forbade you to see me again because of my demonstration of poor manners and disrespect, I was despondent. But it was too much for me to speak of. Even after the doctor diagnosed what he called "spastic colon", and remedied the temporary condition with some pills, I could not overcome my humiliation, and sorrow, to tell you how devastated I was at the loss of whatever our relationship may have held the promise of being (and have revisited that loss with remorse many times since.) I was truly in love with you. There! At long last, I have told you.

I have lived, for a long time, with the guiding life-navigating star of "if it holds the possibility of ever being an 'I wish I had' ... do not let the moment pass without doing or saying whatever holds that potential." If I had not let you know the truth about that miserable night ... it would forever remain an "I wish I had."

I truly hope that this strange and unusual note finds you basking in the fullest of this Christmas Season's joy and happiness. I remain, forever, your admiring Friend and Servant,

John-Michael

There ... now You, Dear Reader, know that I do (even in the most awkward and challenging of circumstance) honor my Spirit's claim on me. As bizarre and odd as this example may seem, (and I know that you cringed [with me] as you read it) I cannot deny Life's claim on me. Responsibility to the demand of the Gift of each moment is what drives me on. And I promise You that it is a joyfully satisfying and fulfilling path to follow.

Just listen ... then trust the result or response to the omniscient power of Life's unfailing Love. It NEVER blunders.

I love You.