Archive for March, 2009
I Keep Getting Gems
We learn so much from our fathers. Many times we learn in overt ways and other times we unwittingly learn over the years and in different circumstances. My dad specifically taught me how to shoot a jump shot and how to throw a baseball. But he also taught me, not so specifically, the value of hard work and perseverance as well as sacrifice.My father will turn 88 in May and he’s fit as a fiddle. He lives with my mother who is 87 and suffers from dementia. It is very sad as she doesn’t “know” her husband of nearly 65 years who lovingly takes care of her, and has been, since the onslaught of this hideous disease five years ago.
He may be fit, but he’s tired–and weary.
As I get older, I realize that I have subconsciously observed him over the years and have pulled out real gems he’s somehow provided that has helped me get through some tough times and how to handle the good ones too.
When I got married, I automatically became closer to my dad. When we were blessed with children, again, I felt another step closer to him. Thinking about it, some things about him or what he said when I was younger, I blew off–what an idiot! I now realize their significance. We don’t need to look to far to find who our heroes are– he is a true slugger without the use of anything artificial about him.
Today I visited with he and my mom in their one bedroom apartment. I was excited and happy to hand him a copy of my newly published book. I dedicated it to him and, of course wrote an inscription. I wanted to give him something so uniquely me to show him my love.
In his usual way he thanked me–no fanfare. But that’s him and that’s fine by me.
Upon arriving home the telephone rang and on the other end I heard my dad’s voice. His tone and his choice of words told me everything as he wanted to let me know how he felt. And even when I wanted to give him something, he still gave me so much more.
Posted on Saturday, March 28th, 2009 | 1 Comment »
Why I Came Back…
On the eve of the release of my new book, Zen Master Next Door, I found myself a tad nostalgic. I read, once again, chapter one of my first book, YOURS, AIDEN, and felt compelled to share an excerpt…
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Why I came back to Saint Augustine for that particular reunion was a mystery to me. Perhaps I returned to complete unfinished business or to rekindle old relationships. Perhaps it was neither. Maybe I came in part, to honor my journey. Twenty-five years ago I came here my senior year and while moving toward my goal I found more-much more. At the time I did not want any more than what lay in clear vision, but I am now grateful I learned as my senses became replete. What I thought was absolute was not. What I thought was corrupt was good. I overlooked what astonishes me now. I was not ready for what was a metamorphosis in my life. But what I was not ready for conceived new ways. Where I had been, in a way, and where I wanted to go, did not matter. Growth happened, as always, in my present. The journey was always in the now. I could not be told this, although some tried. Sometimes I asked questions of others and I heard them but did not listen. Placing a terrible burden on them, I so desperately wanted direction.
Years ago I fought my inward travel with each step. I kept looking outward and beyond. Like a recurring dream I saw myself running a race, but the race would not end although I kept my eye on the finish line. I sensed I was running the race only by myself and against no one but myself. The race was but a blur but getting to the finish line, my subconscious mind determined, was meaningless. Clearly, crossing the finish line was for naught. The blur of the race was everything.
In time I found what lied beyond the day, any day, only became smaller as my past became enormous. The present remained the only real time. The past was only a trace of who I was to become. Now my past was the taste of bitter and sweet. Without one, however, I could not savor the other.
Why three tiny bird eggs made an indelible imprint on my mind earlier that day I may never know. An illusion, perhaps, of simplicity but the reality of life’s complexities rattled my senses. But the change, the transformation and the need I had for so much more than what was simply before me pulsated in my mind. Was my life as fragile as those eggs? Lives change without warning. What really mattered? Those capsules of life swarmed with energy and delicately clung to a tree. This interlude was merely momentary. My life’s experiences and thoughts swirled aimlessly in me but, simultaneously, cleaved to my soul. The occasion of my life, as well, was but momentary.
Preoccupied that night and the entire weekend, I mulled over my life. I thought of that year and resolved that there was something remarkable to everything, even the transitory life affixed to the wispiest vein of nature.
Posted on Tuesday, March 24th, 2009 | No Comments »
Fiction or Fact?
I say fiction. Recently, I heard that fewer and fewer people are cuddling up with a good novel than anytime in our recent past. Not good.We are reading more “how to” books. We are reading biographies of celebrities. We’re reading accounts of history and wars. Dieting books remain ever so popular. Take a look at the top books sold. Now, there’s nothing wrong with reading these kinds of books–don’t get me wrong. I just think that we need to include a fair dose of fiction in the mix. It could be short stories, poetry, novels or essays. It’s your choice.
Fiction stimulates our thinking and it soothes it all at once. It has a way to reignite our imagination; something that adults tend to tuck a way for more “serious” things. Oscar Wilde put it this way, “Life is too important to take so seriously.” He happened to write short stories, plays and a novel so maybe he was a tad biased.
Oral stories have been passed down for thousands of years as they hold our very truths. Those same truths that have stuck with humans long after most of the thousands of wars fought have been forgotten or last year’s diet has been proved faulty. Didn’t Jesus tell parables? How about grandpa and his stories. You know what I mean…what about the beautiful poem you heard in third grade or the one you made up in your head when you were alone; don’t worry, no one will ever know.
We learn from stories. We learn from them because we remember them. How did it make us feel? Why do we feel empathy for a particular character? Sometimes we think, “that could’ve been me.” Truths are relevant and are the most prized manifestation of our humanity. Truths are universal and they are of tremendous value– that’s why we call them “values” and they withstand physical, chemical or “mystical” change, so to speak. Truths are, what they are. We value love over hate, health over illness, knowing over ignorance, kindness over mean-spiritedness, and peace over war, just to mention a few.
What better way to ponder our values than through a good story. In the “lies” of fiction, I think we find the truth.
Posted on Saturday, March 21st, 2009 | No Comments »
Turn Around to Go Forward
It’s all about greed. That’s what got us into this fix in the first place. No, this isn’t a political blog. This is a place I write about us–people and their relationships to each other and the things that occupy us.
A few days ago, Chris Matthews who hosts Hardball on MSNBC put it eloquently. Paraphrasing him, he intimated that since the 1980′s people have changed their sights and began to think less about going to college for a degree in Psych, or, say English, but rather, they looked to business and finance for their answers for personal fulfillment. On top of that came the notion that everyone had to get their MBA if they were going to succeed.
Being successful meant being rich–many wanted to get rich and still do.
Back then I got calls from so many financial advisors who wanted to make me rich too. Now don’t get me wrong, there’s nothing wrong with any of that. What’s wrong was that ego began to drive some people and morals took a back seat with many of them. Greed seemed to become okay. Maybe they didn’t say so, but it did–greed began to become okay with a lot of people.
It only got worse in the 90′s and a billion times worse in this decade. Heck, Bernard Madoff just pleaded guilty and could get up to 150 years for cheating billions of dollars out of his investors. That’s the biggest con job in history. He’s just one of so many we hear about daily.
It’s all about greed. Hard working and responsible people with a moral conscience may have started down the superhighway with pure intentions, but somehow many got carjacked by an alter ego of sorts sitting right there with them, or maybe right in their lap. They were transformed to hard working but irresponsible folks without a moral conscience. They are the ones that botched things up for the rest of us.
In all of us, if we don’t control it, we have insatiable drives. We do, we really so. Just think about your own reaction to external temptations. If we don’t watch it, our ego takes over and we spin out of control. It’s not to late to turn around…sometimes we need to turn around to get to where we want to go.
Posted on Saturday, March 14th, 2009 | No Comments »
What’s Best?
A report last week from some British research group announced that the best age in a person’s life is 46. Not 45 and not 47. Forget about 25, 33 or 55. The reason, they concluded that 46 is the best age in a person’s life is because, presumably, by this age “most of us” are at a financial situation that has allowed us, or about to allow us, the capability to accumulate all the “things” we want. Wow…
They would lead us to believe that this “best” age and everything about it will make us happy people. See, they’re telling us that we are the peak of consuming and able to get what we want so this makes it our “best” age.
Oh, really? I’m 49. Did I miss something? For my friends who are 45, should they prepare somehow for this “best” year before them? I’m not following.
Forgive me as I switch gears.
By using the phrase, best year of ones life sounds too much like declaring that the things we accumulate may even make us, well…happy. Nah, that can’t be. We’re smarter than that.
But if this is true, where does that put me? I, actually, want fewer of those “things” that are supposed to make me happy. I’m talking about all the stuff that anchors me down, that keeps me “connected”, that break, and after just a moment of thought, are meaningless in my life.
The things that we pretend we need or want as the true inhibitors of being the best we can be– they are inhibitors of our happiness. At age 46 or 99, the things we own are just that–the things we own. It may be true that our stuff we accumulate may certainly gratify us for the moment, but that stuff doesn’t do anything to help us enjoy our “best” year of our lives. What’s your best year? Make that, years?
Posted on Saturday, March 7th, 2009 | No Comments »
