I Got It Covered

Overall, most days, usually, almost regularly, I have a good outlook on life.  I try to, hope I, often practice somewhat healthy activities of daily living like walking and stretching and in general moving about.  And I would say I have a source of connections to practical support and social interaction.  I even have a hobby or two.  My goodness I volunteer to the point I have eliminated the word no from my vocabulary.

So I got it covered.  I am aging well.  Criminy.  I am good at getting old.  Why don't I feel it?  Why do I still feel like I am in my twenties...okay, maybe my thirties?  I am not old darn it!  Maybe they are right when they say you are only as old as you feel.  So I guess, as I said, I got it covered.  

Life is good.  I believe there is more to life than what we see.  I regularly stop and connect to my "Source".  I do forget to relax and take times of doing nothing to be just as important as times of "busyness".  But overall, I think everything will work out and the sun will rise tomorrow....(and don't call me Annie).

So, yes, I probably do have it covered.  Aging, as Bette Davis once said, is not for sissies.  I guess I am not a sissy, even though getting old does concern me sometimes.  But then I remember that, yes, I do believe it will all work out.  I will remain connected, active and, oh for heaven's sake, optimistic...probably the rest of my life.

No worries.

I got it covered.

In a Thursday State of Mind

Warning: This is a Musing Meander

I think I am in a Thursday state of mind.  The weekend is approaching.  The week is soon over.  Friday is peeking over the horizon.  Its time to Thursday.  What?  You don't know how to Thursday?  Well, just relax.  It comes naturally.  It is as easy as bridging from Wednesday to Friday.  It is the day that is beyond the hump and not quite as laid back as Friday.

Thursday is named for the English god (who knew they had gods?) Thonor or the Norse god (more commonly known) Thor.  In any case, Thursday is named for a god of thunder.  So rumble like its Thursday.  Make some noise.  Get noticed.  Support the lightning as it flashes.

I don't think much about Thursday really.  We Monday at the beginning of the week.  We find ourselves Tuesdaying to get to Wednesdaying the middle of the week.  As I said before, we Thursday to Friday and then live on Saturday and Sunday.

If your week begins on Monday, Thursday is day number four.  If you week begins on Sunday, it is day number five.  Alas, Thursday is never number one in the parade of weekdays.  But it is the day we Americans assigned Thanksgiving to.  Something to think about.  Thank goodness for Thursday.  Maybe being thankful is a real good way to spend Thursday.

A Good Understanding

There is nothing more important than a good understanding.  Some would say a good understanding comes with big feet.  Well, I suppose that is true.  Feet are the foundation of the structure known as a body. But big feet or not, it is always important to stand on your own feet.

A good understanding.  One step at a time.  Taking the time to listen.  To be there.  To see from the prospective of others.  To incorporate that insight into what you already know to be true.  That is what it means to be a good friend.

There are times when I weary of being the understanding one.  And then I realize that is rather arrogant.  But understanding brings with it responsibility.  When you understand someone it makes it oh so much more difficult to walk away.  It can seem like a curse, but it is always a blessing.

I love my big feet.  Because of them, I have a good, well you get it.  So why would that seem like a curse?  Because when you are known to be understanding, well, people expect it of you....all the time.  That is the onus, the albatross, the cross to bear.  Okay, I know what you are thinking.  I'm throwing a silly and pitiful pity party for myself...and there is no reason for it.

I understand.

See?  See how it is?   And ultimately I wouldn't have it any other way, even if there are times when I really wish I didn't understand.  The fact is, I do.  And that is a good thing, much better than not understanding.  Eyes open, one foot at a time.

I often wonder if I am making progress...toward anything.  Am I moving forward or standing still?  Is this all there is?  Can one make progress in spite of signs to the contrary?

Have you ever heard of the GPI?  It is the acronym for Genuine Progress Index.  It measures genuine progress rather than the gross national product, which is traditionally used to measure the health and well being of our economy and nation.  Instead, the GPI looks at the things that make 

life better.  It asks questions as to whether life has improved or declined in general.  Things like traffic congestion, balance of leisure time, personal satisfaction with work, life and love are measured.  It posits the theory that we can be productive and successful in business, but if we are not enjoying our lives, what is the point?

The pyramid pictured here shows the theory set forth my Abraham Maslow in 1947 in his paper A Theory of Human Motivation.  We all begin at the bottom of the pyramid as we seek to satisfy our needs for food and shelter.  Then we seek to be safe in our environment and our daily lives.  Once those needs are met, we look for love and belonging.  What this means so far is that if our basic needs are not met, we have 

little energy to realize healthy relationships.  But when these needs are met, we can seek activities and accomplishments that give us a sense of self-esteem and worth.  Once all of that is achieved, we begin to actualize that self we were meant to be along with insights and wisdom that a life well-lived can bring us.

What does all this mean?  Well, in my life I have come to realize we move up and down the pyramid.  And upon discovering this new GPI, I can begin to appreciate and measure just how far I have come.  It also leaves me to ponder just how far I still need to go.  The journey continues.  Just when I make what I believe to be genuine progress,  I find I am once again hungry and a feeling a little unsafe.  But even then, I can see I have made some progress.  

That is what life is all about: making progress.

Here are some links to more information about the GPI and the Hierarchy of Needs:

Maryland Launches Genuine Progress Indicator

Wikipedia Defines the GPI

Hierarchy of Needs at Abraham Maslow.com

Wikipedia Defines Maslow's Theory

Last Normal Day

There are times when we all remember exactly where we were, but Monday, September 10, 2001 much like any other.  I remember vaguely going to work as usual.  Nothing particularly special happened that day I guess.  I honestly don't remember anything about it.  It was just another Monday, the beginning of what most people thought was going to be another normal week.  We were all going about our business as usual lives.  Kids were back in school.  The days had already begun to grow shorter.  Autumn was not far away.  We had hope.

It was the last normal day.

And then, ten years ago tomorrow everything changed for all Americans forever.  Nothing would ever be the same.  We would find ourselves taking our shoes off at the airport without questioning it.  We would for several months cast a wary eye on any passing jet.  For a time we would wave our flags and greet our neighbors in solidarity.  "Never forget," we all swore!  "Never again!"  We were one.

Time went by and we began to return to a new type of normalcy.  Work, play, life when on.  Politics once again became volatile.  We entered two wars that also became part of our new "normal".  There was no looking back, no returning to the innocence of September 10, 2001.  We no longer felt that we were invulnerable.  Our sense of security was cracked wide open.

*****

Another "last normal day" was November 21, 1963.  I was in junior high school.  It was a Wednesday.  We were all living with what some called a view of Camelot.  A young, vigorous President with a beautiful, regal wife and two young children occupied the White House.  That president, John F Kennedy, proclaimed that the torch had been passed to a new generation.  We believed it had.  We were racing to the moon and all things new and shiny were coming to all those who believed.  

We had hope.

And then on November 22, 1963 the President was assassinated and everything changed.  There was a new normal.  The 1960's saw revolutions and assassinations and riots all mixed with love-ins and flower power.  A few more decades went by and just as we all seemed to settle in, 9/11 happened.

It seems to me there is no business as usual really.  You never know when your whole world will turn upside down.  And it doesn't have to come in the form of a lone assassin or a terrorist attack.  Just get complacent and you will all of a sudden be shook awake.   Its all about staying vigilant and aware.  You can rest in the everlasting arms if all that is holy and know this too shall pass.  But you cannot take "normal" for granted because it just isn't necessarily so.  

Yes, there are times we all remember exactly where we were when something happened....when what was normal ended.  

Never forget, never again.

What's In Your Hand-basket?

There was a time when everyone new that a hand-basket was something that was what the world was going to hell in.  It was as my grandmother would say when the evening news was particularly discouraging.  "The world is going to hell in a hand-basket and we're all in the same boat."   Maybe they took the hand-baskets down in a boat on the River Styx?  I never really knew for sure.  I just knew it wasn't a good thing.  And it seemed inevitable...especially if something didn't change...and change soon.

Back then I would always envision someone loading up all worldly things into a sturdy basket with a solid handle and tying the whole kit and caboodle to a long cable and lowering it directly down into the bowels of the earth.  That was where hell was located when I was young.  And if we didn't mend our ways, mind our P's and Q's as it were, we would all end up there. 

So that makes me wonder: what's in your handbasket?  As the old saw says, the road to hell is paved with good intentions.  Perhaps that is what send the basket and the world on the perilous journey to the underworld. It does seem there are lots of good intentions that add up to naught.  Is that what is in this proverbial handbasket?  A world of good intentions?

This somehow led me to think about that old, old song we all probably sang at one time or another as children, A Tisket, A Tasket.  The lyrics went something like:

A-tisket a-tasket

A green and yellow basket

I wrote a letter to my love

And on the way I dropped it

A Tisket A Tasket--Miss Ella Fitzgerald Sings!

Just what is a tisket?  Or a tasket for that matter?  And does it matter?  Especially if we are as this musing started, taking that ride in the handbasket?  I just don't know.  But if you were to ask Dorothy* as Miss Gulch put her beloved Toto into her handbasket, tisket or tasket, or not, that basket was not headed anywhere good.   So I guess it is best to mind your P's and Q's and carry out your good intentions or else....who knows what may happen.

*of Wizard of Oz fame

E-Connections

Imagine my surprise when I discovered that people I know...people I have known for over forty years more or less...are not e-connected.  I guess I shouldn't be surprised.  Life is like that.  People are like that.  Not that, as Seinfeld would say, there's anything wrong with that.  But it does give me pause.

I reconnected with someone I have known since since 1974.  I always thought of her as someone who went with the flow of time and developments.  It had been, I was surprised to discover, six years since our last contact.  Things happen you know.  But some friends are always there, on the same page no matter when you pick up the book of your friendship.  This person is like that.

Yet I was still stunned when I asked her if she had a Facebook page.  She said, "I have one of those Facebook things, but I have no idea how to use it."  She is two years younger than I.  I also know her mom.  Her mom lives close to her.  I sent an e-mail to my reconnected friend with an update of what's going on with me, etc.  She returned the favor.  I asked for her mom's email.  She said, "I doubt my mom has one, she doesn't have a computer."  

I am guilty of e-assumption.  I take being "e" for granted.  I wanted my friend to check out this blog.  She said, "I've heard of blogs but don't know how to find them and use my computer rarely."   I was e-flabbergasted.

But I take my computer connections for granted.  It was a part of my work for so many years.  I love to compose write onto the laptop.  I used to use a typewriter years ago for writing.  Don't get me wrong, I used to hand-write a lot.  Now I find I rarely pick up a pen.  Everything I do has an "e" before it.  I am plugged in.  And I have come to expect the rest of the world to be e-savvy too.

I was wrong.  

And it gives me pause.  It truly does.  Maybe it isn't so great to be electronically connected.  It is all so...so...so virtual.  Nothing real.  Unless being e-real is reality these days.  Which, it seems it is at times.

So I will continue on my way of e-communications.  I can print and mail my communiques.  But I have to admit I enjoy getting hand-written missives in the mail.  A greeting card is always a joy.  But when the Post Office fades into history, I doubt I will want to pay Fed-Ex to deliver a letter I can send for free via G-mail.

Maybe if I lived in the remote hills of a place like North Carolina where time still moves slowly, I wouldn't need this instant gratification.  That, I fear, is the issue.  I am addicted...not unlike many modern e-connected people... to instant gratification.  And that, I fear, loses something in e-translation.

It's got an e-hold on me....

The Old If a Tree Falls in the Forrest Conundrum

Somethings just are.  And that is difficult, if not impossible, to completely understand.  No explanation?  Well, not if you believe in the power of science.  Sooner or later everything can be understood.  Empirical evidence.  Reasoning.  Deduction, reduction and induction.  They all will eventually lead to a final understanding of anything that appears inexplicable now. 

But come on.  How does anyone really know that a tree makes a sound when it falls if there is no one, (including recording devices, etc), around to hear the sound?  There just is no way to prove it!  Yes, I do accept the 99.9% probability that the falling tree does in fact make a resounding thud when it hits the forest floor.  But still...who knows for sure?

Believing in things not visible to the eye, not audible to the ear, not tasteful to the tongue and not palpable to the touch comes down to a matter of faith.  I believe that tree makes a sound when it falls.  I believe Newton was right is saying that "for every action there is an equal and opposite reaction."  It just makes sense.  

Now I ask you consider the last time you sat on the beach and watched the sunset.  Oooo!   Aaaaah!  I am sure your breath was taken away.  But what happens when you are not at that beach?  Does the sun not set anyway?  Is it still not as beautiful?  Even with no one at all to watch it set?  Does the sun care if anyone is watching?  And I am sure the tree does not care if its thud is heard when it hits the ground.  

Denver columnist, Gene Amole, wrote, "The sunrise, of course, doesn't care if we watch it or not. It will keep on being beautiful, even if no one bothers to look at it."   There's the point.  That's the reality.  It doesn't matter!  Beautiful things just are.  They do not care if anyone is a witness.  Things just are what they are.  We are what we are.  I wonder can we ever just be that?  I mean just be who we are and not worry if anyone is watching...or not?

On Labor Day

Without work there is no call to play.  Yet the old proverb says, "All work and no play, makes Jack a dull boy."  So balance.  Balance is the key.  Work, play each in equal measure.  You can pray for a job to be done, but "Labor is the only prayer that Nature answers", says Robert Green Ingersoll.  You can accept nature, but you must learn to work with it.  To create you must take the natural form and work with it until it is pleasing.  And that is not to say, abuse nature.  Nature must be respected.  Nature must be conserved.

Leonardo da Vinci said, "God sells us all things at the price of labor."  Even fun must be worked for, earned.  That is something I wonder about these days as I see so many folks who feel so entitled to things and as thought they should not have to work for them.  A holiday like Labor Day must have little meaning for them.

"Without labor, nothing prospers."  So says philospher Sophocles.  One could apply this to the current situation in Washington D.C.  You need to work.  You need to honor work.  Labor leads to prosperity for sure.  Getting stuck in working against something rather than toward something defeats the purpose.

On this Labor Day 2011 I think about my father and my grandfather,  my mother and my grandmother and the generations who came before me.  They worked hard.  And then they played hard.  The earned it.  They put something together that became a model for me.  The Puritan Ethic is harsh.  It does not need to be that difficult.  Whatever you do, though, do the best job you can.  That is the meaning of Labor Day.  

Happy Labor Day.

If Tomorrow Comes to Australia, Can Today Be Far Behind?

Mind bending, I tell you.  Just impossible to grasp.  I don't get it, and if I ever do, well, it will probably not matter any more.  The end of the world.  How can anyone completely understand the end of the world because if the world ends, well. that is the end.  I mean, it is the end of EVERYTHING!  Not just the world, but everything we know and hold true.  The end. Final curtin.  Finito.  Done.

Charles Schultz once said, "Don't worry about the world coming to an end today. It's already tomorrow in Australia."  Bingo!  There you have it!  If it is already tomorrow somewhere, how can the world end today?  If it exists tomorrow then it would end tomorrow and because when tomorrow comes, it is today...well, the world won't end.  Otherwise, tomorrow couldn't come because the world would not exist.

Huh?

Exactly!  That's what I'm saying here.  We cannot concieve of our own non-existence.  And because of that, we go on living as if there is no tomorrow...as if the world will never end.  But we know in our heart of hearts that indeed, all things end.  Then what?

God only knows.  And that is why we know God exists.  Because God does know and us, with our finite minds, can never know.

Life is Contradictory
at times

I don't get it always, but bottom line: it is true.  The world cannot end as long as it is already tomorrow in Australia.  So there.  Put that in your pipe and smoke it.

The Virtue of Vagueness

Pablo Picasso once said, "You have to have an idea of what your are going to do, but it should be a vague idea." *  It took me a moment or two to figure out what he meant.  Then it hit me.  You need to have an idea of what you want to do.  Any idea will do.  But that is where it should end.  No, I don't mean don't pursue your dreams.  Have the dream.  Just don't limit the outcome.  Sometimes we think we know what we are going to do.  We get bogged down in the details.  We outline.  We limit the Universe.  We put limits on God.  We place our imagination in a container from which it cannot escape.  

Vague is good.  General is appropriate.  A map helps, but there may be reasons not to follow the route first drawn out.  Washed out bridges, traffic congestion, roadside robbers.  Detours are not always bad.  I have seen some pretty interesting places by just getting lost a bit on my way.  And I always think to myself, "Self, if you had not made that turn back there, you never would have seen this."  

Yep, I think Picasso nailed it.  I want to create.  I want to write and entertain.  Most of the time I sit down to my computer, pull up the old blog here, and the words just come out. I have a vague idea of what I am going to say.  I have a faint vision of the words I will use.  But usually I just start writing.  And the words string themselves along in a fashion that, maybe even just occaisionally, say something amazing.

When the spirit moves, follow.  Not much more to say about that.  I have an idea of what I am going to do now; but it is a vague one.

*Kahnweiler, Juan Gris: sa vie, son oeuvre, ses ecrits, 1946, p. 83