Thoughts on global citizenry

I’ve had occasion recently to have a discussion with a fellow who agrees with me on the idea that we can no longer consider ourselves, or should perhaps is a better word, residents of one country, but rather residents of one planet. The idea has been in me quite a long time, hence the name of this domain, giggle. We were talking about Maria Sharapova who is at the moment probably the best female player on this tiny blue dot in space. It seems there is a bit of a fight going on in various circles over her – she came to the United States at the age of 7, was too young for the tennis academy she wanted to attend and had to wait until she was 9. She was here alone with her father – now I won’t go into what I think of that fellow or his behavior, but I do understand the sacrifices he’s made for his child. Anyway, she was apart from her mother for two full years and has grown up in this country. But she considers herself Russian and elected to play for the Russian team in something called the Fed Cup – many sports have similar activities, golf has two, Ryder Cup, which is American players against European players, and the President’s Cup which is American players against the part of the world that isn’t Europe, lol. Davis Cup is the men’s tennis equivalent. Apparently Maria riled up some on the Russian team by not attending Fed Cup matches last year, which caused a ruckus, unsurprisingly, we humans can find something to argue about under any circumstances. So, she took a beating in the Russian press, and the American press apparently weighed in with their opinion that she was for all intents and purposes an American player, having spent far more time in this country than in her homeland – she’ll be 21 in April. It doesn’t hurt matters that she is incredibly talented, 6′2″, blond, cute and speaks flawless unaccented English as well as Russian. She makes more money from endorsements each year than many athletes will make in a career from their sport and many, many times what any average citizen of either Russia or America will make in a lifetime. So, in other words, it doesn’t suck to be her, giggle.

It occurs to me that Maria is a global citizen. She lives in the United States, for now, but has said, I understand, that she intends to return to live in Russia when her athletic career is finished. It really doesn’t matter to me whether she does or does not. In truth, we all are, or will be, global citizens. These little lines we draw on the ground don’t mean anything, don’t do anything, but give us an excuse to argue over who owns what piece of dirt. We live on one world. The lines that divide us are artificial and being blurred ever more, day by day. It is a global economy, it is a global geopolitical structure and one day we will recognize AND accept that we are but one people, in varied hues and speaking many languages, but under our skin color, we are all one.

Athletes demonstrate this most visibly right now but business has been doing it quietly for a lot longer. We are connected by more than we know. Our real problem is, as I have said before, and WILL say again, lol, is that we define family too narrowly, brother, sister, mother, father, cousin, aunt, uncle. We don’t harm family. My idea is simply that we must we expand the definition of family to include ALL of us, THEN, maybe we can stop blowing each other up over things that in the end mean nothing. We come here, we live, we die, we go home. All of us, each and every one, no exceptions. What matters at all, if anything does, is how we treat each other here, WHO we become while we are here, although in truth, CWG says even that does not ultimately matter, nonetheless it IS the reason we come here at all, veiled though we may be, our memories of home buried deep within us – it is that which I consider the light globes to have been, for whatever reason, perhaps yet to be revealed, I’ve been given a glimpse of home, a glimpse powerful enough to have me HERE, on this domain, doing what I am doing. And, it is in me that what I will do does not necessarily end with this blog or what I’ve written on the main site. That we shall see about.

But for now, Maria is an exemplary example of blending cultures and erasing borders. We should all do so well as she in being home wherever on the planet she happens to be. She said in her doodle (her own little blog) when she pulled out of this week’s tournament in Dubai because she has come down with a bug (probably watching her in Qatar last weekend is how I caught mine, giggle, though I still think it more likely it was that coughing queen on the bus last week) and I am most disappointed because that means only golf on tv this weekend, lol, that she was excited to go home. I don’t think she meant Moscow. Home is where she is, for now, her base is here, that will change in her later years or not, it doesn’t matter. It really doesn’t matter. It really doesn’t matter for any of us. We are one people on one world. And the sooner we all get THAT point, the sooner we stop killing each other over things that, in the long run, mean nothing. This planet has been in existence 5 billion years, give or take, we have 6000 years of recorded history, most of that bloody and violent. It is time that stop. One way to help it stop is to admire people for who they are, not WHAT they are, or what color they are or what part of the globe they were born on. One people, one world. It is the only truth that matters. So, be peaceful, be friendly, make peace, make friends – we’re all here doing the same exact thing, living. much love, :^) gene

If today brings even one choice your way
choose to be a bringer of the light :^) gene

Steve on forgiveness

Okay, honestly, I have a post in draft I began last Friday night, on government, got distracted, had a busy weekend and never got back to it and last night was taken up with other matters, life intruding on life, you know? And, now, I am in the beginning stages of a cold I am quite sure I caught from a woman on the bus last week whom I had the misfortune to sit next to on my ride home, she was quite discrete but I remember thinking, “dang”. I am SO careful in the winter especially about what surfaces I touch and how I touch them and I rarely get a winter cold, haven’t been sick in quite some time but I had a restless night, usually the first sign, and woke with just the tiniest of sore throats, the kind that often disappear during the day? Only this one didn’t, it has continued to, ummm, warm up. And so now have other parts of me, the little achy stuff is coming on. I found in a drawer a few Contac pills, which expire 3/08, how serendipitous is that? You can’t even buy those anymore, people make them into meth, that wonderful drug that took my youngest son from me, is also the main ingredient in the most effective cold remedy I’ve ever used. I could handle any cold with a handful of Contact Severe Cold pills. So I will do the best I can with what I can find, but I suspect most of the next few days will be on the couch when I’m not at work, so, anyway, I am going to leave the post on Government in draft for now, and tonight, just share a wonderful piece from Steve Goodier on forgiveness. Forgiveness is not given because it is earned, it is given because it is needed. Here is what Steve has to say about it:

THE POWER OF FORGIVENESS

During the American Civil War, a young man named Roswell McIntyre was
drafted into the New York Cavalry. The war was not going well.
Soldiers were needed so desperately that he was sent into battle with
very little training. Roswell became frightened – he panicked and ran.
He was later court-martialed and condemned to be shot for desertion.
McIntyre’s mother appealed to President Lincoln. She pleaded that he
was young and inexperienced and he needed a second chance. The
generals, however, urged the president to enforce discipline.
Exceptions, they asserted, would undermine the discipline of an
already beleaguered army.

Lincoln thought and prayed. Then he wrote a famous statement. “I have
observed,” he said, “that it never does a boy much good to shoot him.”

He wrote this letter in his own handwriting: “This letter will certify
that Roswell McIntyre is to be readmitted into the New York Cavalry.
When he serves out his required enlistment, he will be freed of any
charges of desertion.”

That faded letter, signed by the president, is on display in the
Library of Congress. Beside it there is a note, which reads, “This
letter was taken from the body of Roswell McIntyre, who died at the
battle of Little Five Forks, Virginia.”

It never does a boy (or anybody else for that matter) much good to
shoot him. But you might be surprised at the power of forgiveness.

– Steve Goodier

It would serve us all well to remember that last paragraph. much love, :^) gene

If today brings even one choice your way
choose to be a bringer of the light :^) gene

Today I want to talk about dogs

Yes, I still intend coming back to the books. In a way this is that. It is, I think, no coincidence (and readers of the books will know that God says there is no such thing as a coincidence, that nothing, no thing, happens here without a reason known and approved by God – paraphrasing but that is darn close) that when you reverse the letters in dog, you get god. Actually, I think maybe dogs, get God, better than humans do. They certainly ACT as if they do.

Why I want to talk about this now, well, there are two reasons. One, naturally, is my Cisco, my legacy grandchild, the last living piece of my youngest son, his “daddy”. Brandon wanted only one thing for his 20th birthday and that was a dog. We picked him out together, and a year and a month later, Brandon was gone and Cisco and I were on our own as we have been for the last 10 years. They told us he’d probably top out at 65 pounds or so, he is a lab/shepherd cross, who looks all lab, but has three inch long hair that is about the thickest coat a dog can have – when I take him to his puppy spa for a shampoo and nail trim (he does NOT appreciate my largesse by the way, the moment we enter the place he sits down facing the door back OUT, giggle), I get charged for “extra brushing”. I try to take him there when he is in full molt which he does twice a year, mid-February to May, and then again late August until November. The rest of the time he just sheds. Anyway, that 65 pounds stuff was hooey, he topped out at 115 when he was 7 months old. Not 115 chubby pounds either, he is a tall dog, 115 pounds of muscle as a youngster. He darn near dislocated my shoulder a couple of times when I’d be talking to someone and he’d see something interesting and leap off at full speed. And he’s knocked me down more than once when we’d run together. Our running days are behind us now, both of us, me cartilage, him age.

I guess I sort of have always thought he’d live to 16 to 18 or so, large mixed breeds we had on the farm did, well, one, anyway. So two years ago during his annual trip to his veterinarian, I told her that he’d been having difficulty moving his bowels, constipated always, and she found an enlarged prostate. She said neutering him would probably fix the problem. I had never had that done because Brandon was against it and I sort of just intended to do what Brandon wanted, I’m Cisco’s grandpa, not his dad, lol. But when it became a health issue, I said yes. That seemed to help, but the next spring the problem recurred, and her examination then revealed a tumor. We set up a biopsy for the following week and for a few days I thought, for the first time, I was going to lose him, and I was not nearly ready for that. I hadn’t thought about it at ALL, really. The tumor turned out to be non-cancerous, but inoperable anyway. I could not pin her down on what that really meant. She prescribed an over the counter stool softener which I used until last fall when it stopped working. We switched him to Benefiber, which is odorless, colorless, tasteless and mixes unobtrusively into anything. I put it in his water, it works beautifully.

But about a month ago he began having incontinence problems, not always, once every few days, then last week, twice in one day. He felt SO bad when that would happen,  so I called his doctor and took him back in, $331 later, I found out that his white blood cell count is elevated which indicates an infection, which can cause incontinence. So, he is on antibiotics for two weeks, at which time we’ll redo the bloodwork and see what has happened. If that isn’t good, then an xray to see if perhaps something, a cancer, is growing in him. The thing is, he is so good around me, he doesn’t seem to be in pain, he seems like my regular guy, but sometimes, when I am out of his sight (like children, they think if they can’t see us, we can’t hear them) he will make a noise I’ve never heard him make before. So I’m not sure what is happening. He’s lost 24 pounds in the last 10 months. Last year he was at 116, last Friday at 92. She said that isn’t unusual in older dogs and he is still a VERY big boy. I knew he’d been losing weight, has been for several months. He has sort of gone off his feed. When we switched to Benefiber, we also switched him to the highest fiber senior dog food we could find in the pet supply store which turned out to be the senior version of what he has eaten for most of his life. The not eating part started before the switch. His routine has been the same since he’s been with me, one bowl a day, every day. He’s always self-regulated, I’d fill the bowl and he’d eat a few mouthfuls whenever he felt like it, mostly at night while I slept. He has this quirk, when I am gone during the day at work, he does not eat or drink. Honestly, I fill both bowls every morning and when I get home both are untouched. I take him out, he comes back in, drinks half his water dish and eats a few mouthfuls of food. During an evening he’ll drink a bowl, I refill it before I go to bed and he empties that overnight, he used to clean out his food bowl every night too. He stopped doing that a few months ago. He’ll go a few days eating maybe a third of the bowl (and he gets NO grandpa food anymore – I want him only on what is good for him) and then he’ll finish off a whole bowl and do that for a couple days, but then back to the third, if that.

So, I am a little nervous about all this. He doesn’t seem to be in pain. I won’t have that. But 24 pounds gone, despite what his doctor says, in 10 months, and I KNOW almost all of that is in the last four months or less, worries me. I am not being unrealistic, I have now had time to get used to the idea that he won’t be with me forever. But, I keep thinking, not yet, just not quite yet. I know he’ll be there at the Rainbow Bridge when I cross. But I’m not ready to be done knowing him on this plane of existence. So there is all that.

But that is the personal part of this story and I did say there were two reasons I wanted to talk about dogs. The other is this: Loyal and trusting, dogs are our heroes. It is article by a man named Tim Bugansky that I hope you will take the time to read. It was in the Sunday StarTribune 2/17/2008. It is a wonderful story about dogs, one the author knew, and others he’s read about. So, I’m not going to talk specifically about the dogs in the story, I’ll let you discover them yourselves but there are a couple things he says that I DO want to mention here. He says there is in every dog a quiet nobility and an unspoken pact with the human race. He’s right. He believes dogs know something about us that we don’t, that they have an innate wisdom about us that eludes our own minds. They know, within everyone of us, lies a vast potential for goodness and they try their best to bring it out of us, to show us to ourselves in a way. He talks about how his dog intervenes in family disputes, lol, he’ll put himself squarely between whomever is having at it, neutral, but on everyone’s side at the same time.

He says that at night, he will see his dog rise and make his rounds, checking windows, sniffing at beds taking attendance, being sure his flock is well. He says that when he is stressed, his dog will lay his head, sometimes his whole body in his lap, shielding him from himself. He says dogs see the best in us. That the world would be a better place if we could meet their expectation of us, just as they will strive to the end to protect and love us.

He tells of a day when he was young and he and his mother knew his dog, Rickey, was near his end, his hindquarters paralyzed, and they’d gone a quarter of a mile into the woods to dig a final resting place for him. He said that they could hear a familiar jangling as they worked, and looked up to see Rickey dragging his huge body with just his two front legs to them, where he then lay down, next to his own final resting place to watch over them one last time.

All dogs are like that. Cisco is like that, absolute unconditional love. No matter where I am when I am home, he is somewhere near, he moves from spot to spot, but he is always in a place where he can see me. I’ll glance up and not see him, but I can FEEL him so I look around and he’ll be somewhere, peering directly at me. I used to joke that I was his television, but I know that when that final day comes and I sit in this house alone and no longer feel those eyes on me, I will feel for the first time in my life completely alone. I don’t want it to be yet.  much love, :^) gene

If today brings even one choice your way
choose to be a bringer of the light :^) gene

Lets talk tennis

So you are thinking, what? Has he lost his mind? No, not quite. This comes about because of a conversation I overheard and an article I read and an event I witnessed. The conversation was about how a young girl of 7, Maria Sharapova, comes to this country to study, tennis. How she got to the head of the line, so to speak, in front of thousands of students who wanted to come to this country for an education. The article I read was about her desire to compete for Russia in the Fed Cup, which as I understand it is some sort of international competition, like the Davis cup on the men’s side, like the Solheim cup in golf for women and the Ryder cup for men. Perhaps also the world cup in soccer would qualify, certainly the Olympics.

This is a girl who has lived in this country, I suppose on some sort of permanent visa, who speaks English better than many native born American’s and who is getting very rich, giving back yes, endorsing various products and living a pretty glamorous life, now that her hard work has paid off. The event I witnessed was her winning the Australian Open tennis tournament, then thanking the Serbian fans of her opponent, and mentioning the Russian fans that were there too, but never once mentioning the country she grew up in, that gave her the opportunity to “be all that she could be”. I thought that odd. And a little ungrateful.

Many foreign tennis players have come to this country to train, most have then gone back to their homelands, but Maria still lives here. Children die every day all around the world, children whose lives would be changed forever were they allowed entrance to this country. But we don’t let them in. We let celebrities and athletes go to the head of the line. Why is that? Why are “stars” in whatever field or sport valued more than a dying child from the Sudan? Do we have a national set of priorities or do we not?

I’ve heard the point made that people that live away from their country (immigrants if you may), tend to love their country more than the ones that actually live there. I agree, and it is that very point, that created the conditions that allowed 19 young foreign nationals to come freely into this country and create 9/11. I don’t think we are going to get past this, ever, until we understand that there is no one piece of ground on this planet more “sacred” than another. That there is no one “way” better than another. That we are all one people, living on one planet, sharing time and space on a glorious trip through a lifetime in the flesh. When we lose the idea of celebrity, of star, of king or queen, or indeed, ANY sort of privilege that places one above another, we will be on our way towards becoming a civilization worthy of admission to the universal community of loving souls. We’ll come back to this when we talk about God’s statement at the end of book 1 in which He says earth has been visited by extraterrestrials, helped, protected along our way. That isn’t over. More help is needed and it will come, some from within, some from without. But it will come.

I think that life here begins, or should, regardless the circumstances or place of birth, with gratitude for the opportunity to have this experience, to re-member Who We Really Are and to live that dream out. If what God says in books 1 and 2 is true, then we all have our chance to be all of it, poet, pauper, piper and king. It is my misfortune, perhaps, to be born into the frame of reference in which George W. Bush is king, giggle. We shall yet see how that comes out. If, the premise is accepted, if it is so that each has every opportunity to play every role, then that is the most completely fair system I have ever imagined. Because in this, our reality, that can’t be, for not all are born with equal talents, abilities, equal physical or mental attributes, and so, for me, the playing field is not level. But if the truth is greater than I can imagine, if the truth is that we all can be Maria Sharapova or Babe Ruth or Franklin Roosevelt and have the opportunity to experience all of life from every angle and every perspective, well, then that DOES level the playing field, does it not? Whether we re-member that here or not. Some of us do. That is how the idea gets into the lexicon and the lexicography. I guess, then, it is safe to say, it’ll all work out in the end, lol. But I still, as does young Ms. Sharapova, yearn for home, for it is only from there that I will ever know what I must know, feel what I must feel, understand completely what I demand to understand completely. And it takes a lifetime to get there. So. Is it better to burn out or just fade away? Yet to be seen. And most certainly to be continued, giggle, much love, :^) gene

If today brings even one choice your way,
Choose to be a Bringer of the Light. :^) gene

No Steve today.

Just me. :^) This will be brief, by my standards, lol. I wanted to say that we are going back to my roots. Something tremendous has happened within me over the last few weeks. I am not sure entirely what it is. Or what it will be. But different, that much I do know. So, when I say back to my roots, I mean, of course, the books, CWG 1 and 2. There are SO many ideas of incredible import in them and I have been away from them since my own dark night came on me again, as it has with regularity these past 11 years, but I’ve moved through it once again and it is different this time, the emerging, I mean, it feels more as if I have shed a chrysalis than survived the passing of time. So, I’m going to have some things to say about that. We’ll begin with the books, I intend to work through them, more or less, as they are written. But I have some things to say about them, the ideas there, to bring them into contemporary focus, and I am, have been, digging through old writings of my own, and others, to bring back into focus, precisely why I began this blog and this site. I’ve updated a couple pages on the site itself – nothing major, and will the others over the next few weeks.

One of the reasons I want to bring things into sharper focus is that we are, after all, here in the United States, engaged in an election campaign. That cannot be ignored, for it is in me that it is going to change the face of our political realm significantly and for quite a long time. We, too, are going back to our roots. And that isn’t so very different either, because when my roots are anchored in love and so too, I believe, are the vast majority of, not only the American public, but the world’s citizenry at large. I think in the end, we will find we have much more in common than we have perhaps thought.

The ideas I am going to talk about are not new, though some of what I am going to say about them IS new, for me, perhaps for you. I’ll leave to you that discernment. What is sure is that this is going to be a more regular practice than it has been of late. I will still bring in Steve, lol, and others, from time to time, for what they say that supports an idea I wish to bring into the light. I hope to write several times a week, perhaps oftener, if time allows. I have a lot to say and it matters not if some of it has been said before, what matters now is that I say it here, clearly and consistently. This I intend. As always dissenting opinions will be welcome – should I approve them, that is. And I will for the most part do so.

I know exactly where I want to go with this, giggle, but as is often the case, the how can be elusive. So I am going to begin with a bit of wisdom from Book 1, early on, page 21, where God explains to Neale what it is that we are doing here. This is a question I have myself asked, many times, as I am sure have many, perhaps most, of you as well. It can be best answered the way God does it, by explaining what we are NOT here for. I’m also going to change up the way I present this material, it “feels” better to me is the only reason. :^)

Neale: There are those who say that life is a school, that we are here to learn specific lessons, that once we “graduate” we can go on to larger pursuits, no long shackled by the body. Is this correct?

God: It is another part of your mythology, based on human experience.

Neale: Life is not a school?

God: No.

Neale: We are not here to learn lessons?

God: No.

Neale: Then why ARE we here?

God: To remember, and re-create, Who You Are.

I have told you, over and over again. You do not believe Me. Yet that is well as it should be. For truly, if you do not create yourself as Who You Are, that you cannot be.

Neale: Okay, You’ve lost me. Let’s go back to this school bit. I’ve heard teacher after teacher tell us that life is a school. I’m frankly shocked to hear You deny that.

God: School is a place you go if there is something you do not know that you want to know. It is not a place you go if you already know a thing and simply want to experience your knowingness.

Life (as you call it) is an opportunity for you to know experientially what you already know conceptually. You need learn nothing to do this. You need merely remember what you already know, and act on it.

Now this I understand, even though Neale does not and the discussion continues. We’ll come back to that discussion in another post. What I KNOW, from MY perspective, is that what I SEE around me is NOT all there is. What THAT means, is what I have yet to completely come to terms with. Jenna helps. I mean, she TELLS me, but I have yet to know experientially what she tells me from within. This is what I am came here to do, experience what I have, will. What, in all truth, we have ALL come here for. Though so many thirsty souls have forgotten how to drink. Had they, the carnage going around the world now in the name of God, and there can be no greater blasphemy than to do what is being done and to blame God for it, let me be clear about that, would cease immediately. I do not mean to imply this is a game with consequences for there are none. There is no hell, no purgatory, no place but home. I KNOW this. I have seen it, been shown it, three times, twice at an age old enough to understand I was looking into the light we all came from and will return to. The experience needed now is exactly what God just said. We are not here to LEARN anything, but to remember, to re-member, that we are all one with God, all the time. When we can all agree on this, the separation we feel here now, the isolation, the fear, will be gone.

It is in the WAY that we experience this life that our sense of isolation is fed. We see out from behind one pair of eyes, we have but one mind we imagine is connected to nothing else. We think, we talk, we act as if we were alone in our person. What the lights helped me remember and the remembrance I am going to bring to bear on the words Neale and God have exchanged in these two books, is that simple truth. We are not alone, we are all one. Jesus said what ye do unto these the least of my brethren, you have also done unto me. Truer words were never spoken. What we do to another, we do in every ultimate sense, to ourselves and all others. When we realize this, if we realize this, our days of separation will be over and we will begin to share this oasis in the universe as it was intended to be shared, one with another, each with the other. What we could now call vices, or even sins in church terminology, will cease to exist once we learn that to have a thing to ourselves is to take it from another. When one lives with love as ones basis, such an act would be unthinkable, as would harming another in thought, word or deed. We have much to remember, giggle. We need learn nothing, we already know how to do this, we simply need expand our definition of family to include all of us. When we do that, we will have remembered the truth of Who We Really Are. I have every confidence that we shall do so. And THAT, my loves, is what we will be talking about over the next few months. The practical application of love, giggle. On that note, much love to you all, :^) gene

If today brings even one choice your way
choose to be a bringer of the light :^) gene

A mountaintop view

I wasn’t planning to write tonight at all. But things happen in three’s and three unique little things this day lead me to share one other thing. This is the 11th anniversary of my youngest son’s most tragic mistake, in my view, in his, well, I’ll never know if he saw it as tragic or not. So I want to tell a little story tonight, of that night, it wasn’t the most striking moment of that day and evening but it has never passed from me and has been on my mind the past few weeks, so I’m going to talk about it here, for just a minute or two. Brandon and a young woman, Melissa, had had a, at that age, long relationship, they were so good together. She’d gotten pregnant in early January that year, both knew they were not ready to be parents and decided that she would not have that child. A couple weeks after that, they broke up. And a couple weeks after that, he died, at his own hand. I really liked her. I’d given her many rides home from our house and had come to know her in small ways. That night, when a lot of people were gathered there at the hospital, his friends, family, I needed a moment to just breathe. So I walked away from his last corner of the world and down at the end of this impossibly long hallway, I saw her standing all by herself. I KNEW what she was thinking, I knew she was afraid she wasn’t welcome and I knew why she was there – he’d pushed her away because he knew what he was going to do – and in an instant I knew what she needed, I walked as fast as I could to her and gathered her in my arms, we held each other crying. I said, Melissa, he’s finally done something neither of us can save him from. She just sobbed and asked if she could see him. I told her she was as welcome there as anyone in the world, she really knew him better then, than anyone, including me. I walked her through the crowd of people to his bedside and let her have a moment with him. I never saw her again. I know she was at his service but I don’t have any real memory of that day and I never went back to the church to get my copy of the video they made for us. I think sometimes of that grandchild that almost was. And I hope she’s found peace, love and happiness. I’m still looking.

So here, from Steve Goodier’s Life Support, a look at the world from the top of the mountain.

A MOUNTAINTOP VIEW

A police car pulled up in front of an older woman’s house, and her
husband climbed out. The polite policeman explained that “this elderly
gentleman” said that he was lost in the park and couldn’t find his way
home.

“How could it happen?” asked his wife. “You’ve been going to that park
for over 30 years! How could you get lost?”

Leaning close to her ear so that the policeman couldn’t hear, he
whispered, “I wasn’t lost – I was just too tired to walk home.”

These bodies become less cooperative as we age. For some, work becomes
less fun and fun becomes more work. One older friend commented, “I’ve
reached the age where the warranty has expired on my remaining teeth
and internal organs.”

But I like the spirit of Charles Marowitz. “Old age is like climbing a
mountain,” he says. “The higher you get, the more tired and breathless
you become. But your view becomes much more extensive.”

Atop the mountain, one has a better view of the world. One can see
above the differences that divide people. One can better see beyond
petty hurts and human fragility. Atop the mountain, one has a longer
view of the past and can therefore understand the future with more
clarity. Atop the mountain, one looks down on dark clouds of gloom and
despair and fear and notices that they are neither as large nor as
ominous as those beneath them would believe. It is also clearer that
however dark they may appear, they too, are fleeting and will someday
pass.

George Bernard Shaw said, “Some are younger at seventy than most at
seventeen.” I think it is because they have a broader outlook.

It will take a lifetime to climb the mountain, but, for me, the view
will be worth the journey.

– Steve Goodier

I’m glad Steve is so sure. Sometimes it seems I’ve glimpsed what he is talking about here. The world from another perspective. I think that is what the lights are about. It is understanding that escapes me. So far. I’ll keep working on that, thank you for sharing this moment with me, much love, gene

Two More From Steve

One of these from Steve Goodier’s Life Support newsletter, the second, has a funny in it that I’ve seen before, but which is still relevant. When we look at our children we make assumptions, about what they are thinking, seeing, being. And, as that little story points out we can be quite wrong. 11 years ago on the 11th of this month, I saw the culmination of wrong assumptions come to an end as my youngest son left this earthly plane. I don’t fear for his soul, I know he is fine, but I am still, in my own way, reliving that day. I’ll be past it come the 12th, and ready to do something else within a few days of that. Thinking about that now. And since I’ve never read Don Quixote, I’m going to do that next week too. Much love, :^) gene

WHAT WE SEE

A long time ago a baby was born to poor parents. His future looked
bleak as he grew to see a life of dreariness and poverty before him.
He joined the army as a common soldier and was wounded so severely
that he never regained the use of his left arm.

He later failed to find decent employment and, on two occasions, was
sent to debtor’s prison. He continued to have brushes with the law and
struggled just to survive.

But, despite the severity of his life, he never let go of his
dream…to write a book. He wrote that book and in it he told a
beautiful story which welled from his heart’s deepest dreams and
yearnings. It has moved generations of people the world over ever
since. It is about a man who saw the world differently than everyone
else. Though created in suffering, the book is an inspiring tale of
irrepressible hope. This man’s story has been put to music and film,
translated into numerous languages and remains a literary classic
after some 400 years. The author was Miguel de Cervantes Saavedra and
the book is Don Quixote De La Mancha.

Perhaps Cervantes himself believed, as did his character, that the
world “sees people as they are — I see them as they can be!” For
Cervantes may never have accomplished such a magnificent work had he
not seen some potential within himself that was hidden from the rest
of the world. He knew, and has taught others ever since, that great
truth: What we see will come to be.

Some see situations as they are, others as they can be. Some see
people as they are, others as they can be. And some see themselves as
they are, others as they can be.
But when we look beyond the present reality, dismal as it may seem,
and set our sights upon the best that is within a situation or a human
being, then, too, what we see will come to be. And we’ll know the
power of hope.

LOOKING THROUGH THE WRONG END OF A TELESCOPE

On the way to preschool, the doctor had left her stethoscope on
the car seat, and her little girl picked it up and began playing
with it.

“Be still, my heart,” thought the doctor, “my daughter wants to
follow in my footsteps!”

Then the child spoke into the instrument, “Welcome to McDonald’s.
May I take your order?”

Among the many lessons we can learn from children is the lesson
about how to have fun. And for most children, fun is spelled
F-A-N-T-A-S- Y. Their worlds of make believe are places of
excitement and joy.

Writer Dr. Seuss said this about fantasy: “I like nonsense; it
wakes up the brain cells. Fantasy is a necessary ingredient in
living; it’s a way of looking at life through the wrong end of a
telescope. Which is what I do, and that enables you to laugh at
life’s realities.”

One man spoke for too many of us when he said, “The prospect of a
long day at the beach makes me panic. There is no harder work I
can think of than taking myself off to somewhere pleasant, where
I am forced to stay for hours and ‘have fun.’” Are fun and
fantasy part of your life, or is having fun just another fantasy?

What might happen if you decided to look at life through the
wrong end of a telescope? What if you asked yourself “What if?”
instead of “What now?” And how can you put more “fun” into your
daily “functions”?

Wake up those brain cells! They’ll thank you years from now.

– Steve Goodier

Two from Steve

I know this is taking the easy way out. And I’m okay with that. :^). I’m in a place, at the moment, where I’ve been every year since 1998, midway between my youngest son’s 21st birthday on January 7th and his death on February 11th. Every year I expect it will be different, that I will be past it, that it will be healed. And it never is. For those who have been here a while, you will know that I’ve seen people about this, made some strides, had some revelations and, in truth, I expected this year would be different. But it isn’t. He’s still gone and I’m still not okay with that. I love my remaining son with all my heart and he has had more than his fair share of struggles too, especially over the last 6 months, how much of that has to do with his brother I do not know, I don’t think HE knows. But 2/11/97 changed our lives, and, of course, his mother’s too, forever. When does that end? Does grieving ever end? I still miss my dad, but that does not keep me up at night. That, though, early and unexpected, and unwelcome, was in the natural order of things. What Brandon did was not. My baby boy, always had his own way of approaching things. He was the one who’d sit in the bathroom for an hour, opening the door occasionally to shout out a question to me like, dad, what holds up the stars? And he’d sit in there and sing. Not knowing I could hear him. And, to this day, I see him there in the hospital and remember thinking, oh Brandon, what you have done this time? It was always something, but it was always something we could fix, get through, finally he did something no one, not even me, super dad (and is that a misnomer) could fix. So, I have enough pills now that I can sleep again. But I never rest.

So, tonight, two wonderful stories from Steve Goodier, and for those wondering, yes, I have his permission to post them. much love, :^) gene

THE BROADCASTING STATION

George Washington Carver observed, “I love to think of nature
as an unlimited broadcasting station through which God speaks to us
every hour, if we will only tune in.” But it is sometimes hard to
hear the message when it is broadcast by equipment that is dirty,
corroded and abused. Carver was born 150 years ago, before we used
terms like toxic waste, air pollution, global warming and
deforestation. Today, we have figured out that we need to take good
care of the broadcasting station if we are to hear what the Divine
is saying.

This is a beautiful and fragile planet we live on. As much as we can
fall in love with magnificent sunsets and pristine landscapes, few
people have ever experienced its beauty as acutely as those who’ve
seen it from afar.

Senator Jake Garn was one of those privileged people. He observed
earth aboard Discovery Space Shuttle and wrote of that experience in
“Parade Magazine” (11-3-85). “I know now what if feels like to be out
of this world,” he said. “The experience is exhilarating,
breathtaking, awesome. No. Those words aren’t strong enough; space
flight is indescribable. ” Listen to these words from his space diary:

“I was overcome by the beauty of the earth below. I don’t
think the words exist to convey what it’s like to see the earth
from space. The curve of the earth, the swirling eddies, the
patterns of clouds marbling the surface above the brilliantly
blue color of the water and the blue-green of the land.the
sheer beauty of the earth and the excitement of being in a
position to see it made this the greatest experience of my life.
Using binoculars, I once counted 22 discernible layers of blue
in the band of sunrise color that would be seen from earth
simply as blue.”

This is indeed a beautiful and fragile planet. But it’s changing. And
we humans are the cause of much of it. George Burns once quipped, “I
can remember when the air was clean and sex was dirty.” All right, he
lived to be 100, but we can bring those days of clean air back. We can
live simply and responsibly. We can walk gently upon the face of the
earth.

And with our broadcasting station once again in good order, I think I
know what we’ll hear God saying: “Thank you.”

and then:

THE GUTS TO FAIL

Someone quipped that a classified newspaper ad read: “For sale.
Parachute. Only used once, never opened, small stain.”

I realize that we cannot afford to fail in some endeavors. But I also
know that we cannot afford NOT to fail in most of what we do.
Unfortunately, too many of us live by the motto: If at first
you don’t succeed, don’t admit that you tried. Why? We often feel
ashamed or embarrassed when we fall flat.

In his book THE COURAGE TO FAIL (McGraw-Hill, Inc. 1993),
Art Mortell tells about a conversation he had with baseball’s Lou
Brock. It took place when Brock held the record for stolen bases. He
was about 35 years old at the time and his days as a professional
player were winding down. Brock was talking about why he successfully
stole more bases than younger, faster players.

“When you start out in baseball,” Brock said, “you’re young and you
have the speed and reflexes. However, when you try to steal second
base and you get thrown out, it’s a long walk back to the dugout, with
40,000 fans watching you. When you reach my age, you come to
understand that records are not set by being the quickest, but by the
willingness to look bad in the eyes of others.”

There are other ways to avoid failure throughout life:

* Never ask anyone out. There will be no possibility of rejection and
embarrassment.

* Never ask for a promotion. That way you will not risk the
humiliation of being turned down.

* Never go back to school. You cannot fail a class you do not take.

* Never change careers. You’ll never fail at something you never try.

* Never try anything you’ve never done before.

If success is just avoiding failure, I don’t want it. But if success
is about pursuing a passion or finding the guts to risk in order to
experience life fully, then I want it. Even if it means a lot of long
walks back to the dugout while everyone is watching.