Posts Tagged ‘Truth’
Truth and Hope
What is truth? This question over the ages has been mired with such complexities. Why? I can’t really say. I prefer to strip away the layers to find the essence of most things–that’s just me. I prefer to define truth with four simple words:
is, or is not. This is truth.
Truth is neutral. It’s neither good nor bad–it just is. And wishing or wanting changes nothing. But then again…
Many time we wish we could change the truth. We fanaticize, we dream and, well, we should do those things. After all, what is true today could inspire change. This is hope. Hope should always follow the truth or what is true today will always be a matter of fact.
Hope inspires our actions to change what is true in our present moment. We want to cure a disease, we want peace, we want good to prevail. Yes, we have cured some diseases, we have witnessed some peace, and most would agree that good should always trump evil. But today, the truth of the matter is that diseases are replaced with new strains, there is a segment of people who are evil, and we witness what is truly bad choking was it truly good. In the midst of truth, we must have hope.
Without hope, truth will always be what is, is.
Posted on Sunday, October 18th, 2009 | No Comments »
Saying Little Says A Lot
Once said, it’s difficult taking back.I fail, but I remind myself that it is a virtue to say little. But there are times in which it is appropriate to speak. Those are the times we need to express gentle words that are sincere and from the heart. Of course, we should be truthful but that does not exclude being truthful with kindness. It is when we allow our ego to consume us and ultimately speak for us, we run into trouble.
Perhaps, instead of ego, our words are propelled by ignorance or without thinking. Regardless of its origin, if we learn from our ways and offer an apology, we may humbly step back onto the right path and we may continue our journey.
Posted on Saturday, October 10th, 2009 | No Comments »
The “New” Fifty
You’ve heard people say that fifty is the new forty. Wrong. Fifty is the new fifty.
I celebrated my fiftieth birthday in August and nothing happened. Nothing at all. I was the same guy the day before as I was on my birthday, and finding out that things are going well six weeks later. I got to thinking about it, and it dawned on me that I felt, and still feel, the same as I did twenty years earlier — so is fifty, for me, the new thirty? Not really. As a matter of fact I feel and think “better” than I did way back when. Heck, I was too skinny and my nose looked even bigger then.
One thing is now very different for me. It is very liberating to say that I’m fifty. What gives me this sense of freedom? I’ve been around the block, as they say, but feel pretty relevant. I’m healthy and in good shape. I’m physically and mentally more active today then I was a few years back. I think I am beginning to understand that with my gray hair, I’m getting something that is known as “wisdom”. I’m not a soothsayer, but when I think about it, I’m a lot smarter–and kinder. We don’t use the word “wisdom” very much anymore, but I think I’m getting it and look forward to being the recipient of more.
I’ve experienced some wonderful goings-on in my life–some really beautiful happening. Events and activities I will honor and cherish forever. On the flip side, I’ve been humiliated and degraded by some, but haven’t we all? The wisdom comes when you can sort it all out, make sense of it, and see yourself for what you truly are. Taking time to put it all in perspective and being committed to what you think is most important is a step to wisdom. I’m looking forward to seeing where I’m headed with all this.
When you can look inside and you like what you see, that is all part of the journey.
Hey, I think fifty is the NEW fifty.
Posted on Sunday, October 4th, 2009 | No Comments »
I Miss My Cub Scout
It was one of those rare times when I was home alone on a Saturday. It was quiet, and I was busy with the mundane when I heard the door bell ring. There standing in front of me, all four feet and one inch, was a cub scout with collar flipped up and cap cocked to one side. His mom was at the curb. With great verve and ten year old inflection, he mustered his sales pitch with some long distance coaching from the curb.
I looked into his eyes, and I listened to what he said, and I responded, “sure” as I bought some “original caramel corn ” for this pack fund-raiser.
His sale had nothing to do with the great taste of caramel corn, but all to do with this little fella. See, I have a twenty year old son in college. Ten years ago, it was my son who had to gather his nerve and ring the doorbell while I stood, with fingers crossed, at the curb.
How ten years goes so fast.
I, then, told this young scout to tie his shoe lace and to watch his step down our steep front steps and closed the front door. An immediate rush of emotion enveloped me. I had lonely and distant feeling and I didn’t like it. I missed my son. So, at onec, I called his cell phone as he was nearly two hundred miles away at school only to hear his recoreded message. Although I wanted to talk with him, I liked hearing his voice.
I miss my son. I miss my cub scout.
Posted on Saturday, October 3rd, 2009 | No Comments »
Obviously!
Some folks grow impatient when others state the obvious. They shouldn’t– really.I’m an obvious talker, therefore, when I hark back to a simpler approach or say something they very well should know or comprehend, but have, or chosen to overlook, I see in their eyes a glaze of irritation.
But I know something, and they know it too. That is, if they take a moment to think, they would realize that the obvious is frequently overlooked for some grander way. It’s like air. We don’t give it a second thought until we gasp for it when we have little warning of losing it.
Paraphrasing a Zen parable I read in Wayne Dyer’s latest book, Excuses Begone!, a wise monk called Birdnest, because of his fondness of meditating in trees, was visited by a governor of the province. He wearily traveled three days to ask his burning question. When the governor approached the monk, perched in a tree, he called up and asked, “Can you tell me the most important thing the Buddha ever said?” After a deliberate pause, the monk answered, “Don’t do bad things; always do good things!” The governor was agitated and angrily responded, ” I knew that when I was three years old!”
Birdnest concluded by saying “Yes, the three year old knows it, but the eighty-year-old still finds it very difficult to do!”
Posted on Saturday, July 18th, 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 »