Insidious Adaptation

"Trick or Treat." "Yes, good, say that. We knock and we say that." My coaching is weak, I don't think I ever said "trick or treat" when I was a kid, probably just a "hello." But us fathers want our children to be better than us right? So, the follow through, the delivery, that is what has to happen here. Let's see if she sticks the landing. ... "Look at them run up there." A few houses in and a neighbor and new friend of our daughters are together, no longer needing an adult to guide, but convince each other this is safe, this is what we do. "Did you say thank you?" I ask my daughter, "Thank you." She says to a now-shut door. "Sweetheart, let's say thank you to them." "Ok." The walk from one house to the next started slow, apprehensive, turned into a slight jog for the children, then a run from the house almost going into the street. A few falls, a couple crash...

The human hair, it grows all over the body. It seems to get more plenty in undesirable areas as we start declining in our productive years. Lanugo is the slight fur of a baby, necessary for warmth, the same hair that grows on a person whom suffers from anorexia. The hair above the eyes, well, that one has always been a mystery, maybe it keeps a slight bit from the second line of defense, the eye lashes. The more private areas tend to have a preference as to what is done with that, for women it helps keep a pH balance, men, it is useful for....smell maybe? Nonetheless, no hair is more important than the ones on our head, especially a girl's head. Girls have this ability to alter their entire persona by simply changing their hair style. One day they can be mysterious and dark with long, thick locks dyed a dark brown or a bold black, the next they can be a fun, party-girl with a short, blonde cut making the hair appear light and as free as its owner. Other hair styles, such as the a...

Neither “good,” nor “bad,” yet somehow we still need to judge something in one way or another. We cannot do this with food however, for as I have said before, some nutrient-poor food with a high caloric count, still has benefit to someone. Food is in abundance at this point in the Western world, so we get to be picky. We get to choose what we like, and people can get away with, “not liking the taste of water.” As much as a teeter-totter gets a slight weight shift to go one way or the other, people’s perspectives are only as good as the information they receive. Except, if that isn't accurate, then..? Food provides energy, provides nutrients in their naturally-packed and most-easily absorbed form to satisfy. What happens when we eat foods that are processed where nutrients are removed for various reasons really has more to do with our discontent than it does anything else. Being dissatisfied is why people experience such displeasure with life and therefore respond so poorly. Disco...

Possibly worth more dead, than alive. Selfishly we wouldn’t want to think that, but it could be true. Our value after all, is assessed by the waves we create which in our life. You might just be a producing a mundane trickle, in death could trigger a tide. Change is only done by those who take the chance, doing something authentic. Like a wave pulls water from other areas by it's natural force, people get drawn in, consumed.   I was struggling this morning in getting to the gym, for the gym takes energy, energy I could not find within myself. Nothing, “wrong” or, some large dramatic stance against going, I simply did not have the energy to do so. My physical self could move and lift and I would assume that familiarity would have brought me to my feet if I would have felt it would have been needed , but it wasn’t . Instead, I laid on the couch and just thought. As my eyes closed and I entered the grey area between awake and sleep, An image came to mind. I imagined...

The last drink has been drunk. The final call has been made. The work day is over. The dessert bowl has been all scooped, and re-scooped, and there is simply, no more left. What happens when it's all gone? Well, "it" as we use it, has to be defined, which for each of us, could really be anything. IT could be pleasurable, IT could be an achievement, IT could be love, IT could be hate, IT could be pain, IT really could be anything we give it power to be, but IT will come to an end, for anything as we know it to be, will cease to be.   Like a blank piece of paper after all the work initially torn away, discarded, a part of ourselves, never to be seen again, however, built on, better.  A sad and disgruntling thought as I ponder what I can then rely on. Can I rely on my daughter, no, for she will either grow and move on as I want her to, or she will  suffer  from the debilitating effects of the conclusion of the human condition, the diagnosis we all must face. C...

In a former life, telling people what to do, or not to do, wasn't the question, however it was who they gave credit to which meant more. I was consumed by being the one to help, with the right answers, for it is what I needed and was the THING that drove me to be the guy you would go to for those answers. I would read material, the argument to that material, and worse of all, I would find "sales tactics" to entice people that I was the ONE and not "THAT OTHER PLACE." "The other place," was anyone, anywhere, that wasn't me, for I was the one who could present the material in THAT unique way, so therefore if you didn't get the results, I was hurt, worthless, for nobody should ever talk to me again. If you can relate to this mindset, I thank you, and hopefully you are willing, at least in secret, to admit these thoughts, for they do not sound good when they come out. The reason I write them, again, is validation, and to let people in on a few...

Michael:  Wait. You forgetting something? Oscar:  What? Michael:  This chat. Two men, one white, one latina. A boss and a money cruncher. I could fire you. Oscar:  What's your point. Michael:  My point is... that as long as people like you and me don't stop talking, nobody can stop the USA. The other day I was in the gas station and overheard a couple arguing over by the fountain soda station about something unrelated to soda, however they were still together and both seemed to agree on one thing, to drink a soda. If a robber were to come into the gas station and threaten the lives of its customers, would whatever the couple had a disagreement on still exist? Would the once large instance of disagreement, more than likely a miscommunication, be a memory in the face of losing the life of a partner? In this instance, the opposition from which the couple had toward one another, a differing of opinions, would switch to the opposition against them, no longer mak...

Is it not respectable to just “be” anymore? Must we continue to, “put ourselves out there,” or is that my competitive perspective of the environment kicking in again? Am I enough without the likes and reposts of another? Maybe not. Maybe I am being held down by the digital code I place all my value in, as though it means love, when it is barely recognition. Maybe I could be like an eagle, soaring high, a spirituality untouched, advanced by deeper understanding unexplainable in word form. Maybe I am supposed to be greater than the social media likes and the internet memes I cling too for attention. Maybe, just maybe, this is the devil’s way of reinforcing shame inside of me, and his way of keeping me worldly. After all, spending time on social media is considered worldly, even if you are just looking at Christian posts, you might not be able to skip past all the “booty” pictures, “cleavage shots” and other sexual innuendos that I too become guilty of repeating, laughing, or secretly ...