Insidious Adaptation

My body may be sick, but my soul, she is weary. It is the man inside that has been sick my entire life, My. Entire. Life. The word MY cannot be acknowledged there enough, for it is my life right? Me! The problem with sickness isn't the sickness itself, for whether it is a cold, flue, stomach bug, depression, anxiety, these reactions and ways we interpret them are neither good nor bad, but just are, yet, we submit. WE submit to the flu and gather around those who have it, comforting, loving them, "say prayers," and all rightly so, for the, "flu" as we know it to be does have the potential to hospitalize or kill a person as the media likes to give their annual account of flu-related deaths. The, "flu" or a, "cold" seem to be these underlying spirits that promote fear and hyper-cleansing. Yet, then there are "superbugs" that evolve from such hyper-sanitary areas making us sicker than ever, maybe by resistant strains of the sickne...

A rhetorical question for the ages, a fear not often addressed. What a selfish motive must we have to overlook the very possibility that our children outgrow us. Like a pair of pants on the basement, bathroom floor.  A reminder that they were too small, as well as the shower this morning unable to hold two people, her overused pants, unable to hold two buttcheeks. If you stare long enough at a pile of laundry, it becomes something. Mine became a realization that my time is expiring, if I let it. Not in terms of time because none of us know when that ends, but without a comparative measure could we know if our time is any more expired than anyone else, as in percentage complete. This thought was much more devastating than that. This thought was about her. My daughter, close enough to three to tell people, yet lacking the full development that three year olds have. Certain characteristics, balance, physical and mental, ability to notice certain things, as gifted as we, and all pa...

In the spirit of the season, I sometimes find it best to reflect on where we've come from to see where we're going. I find that looking at the very elements of a situation can assist in finding common ground in which to walk, versus the egg shells we sometimes tiptoe around or crush just enough to pierce the leathery skin on the bottoms of our feet.  I will refer to the Bible here, so if you aren't interested past this then, there ya go.  In Genesis, man was made, and woman was made from man. God did both.  In Genesis again, man sinned, woman sinned. God did not make sin.  The rest of the Bible and life as we know it is based on this original sin and how we react, cover, attempt to live life on top of it, all the pain of cycle after cycle, mess on mess, and now here we are blurring the lines of what a nationalized agenda-biased media depicts either way about sexual assault.  Ah, this season... No, this isn't for children, and there are n...

The connection here should be fairly obvious, the message rather clear, however the end game, the product developed in each mind that reads it, may require some adaptation. The innate ability for each person to first, see something that intrigues, click on the link, read the material, and internalize a message says more about what a person was looking for than the answer they found. If I am looking for something to reinforce a bad day, anything can provide the ammo. If I am looking for something to bring me joy, then I can choose to find joy in even the most mundane. If I want to eat something sweet, then, I can determine it to be sweet or not. Try out, "the baby diet," where we eat only what th body knows it needs. Nothing more, nothing less, just enough, and the right stuff. Disclosure: I made that "baby diet" up. Yes, "determine something to be sweet or not," probably something starting to sound a bit heady, but one must consider what sweetness i...

What is achievement other than a never-ending goal? What is success, but something defined by those outside? What is hunger defined by those who need? What is love desired by those who are lonely? On one side of a door, there is wood paneling, on the other, an entire room, unless of course you are on the inside, then there is an entire world out there. The possibilities behind any door, any thought fulfilled, any thing you've ever wanted available right here. (Points to one's head) I don't want it though. The pleasure, for I don't feel I am worthy. I have to keep working, striving, trudging through because I am not going to hold it properly. There are the times I want to give up, give in, quit, but then I remember that this is the gift. The entire reason I exist it to serve, and how can I serve if I achieve? How can I be washing feet when I have nice things? My entire life up until now, has remained in this current thought process. I am going to fail. I have t...

Chemical reaction or a metaphor for life? "Able to dissolve other substances." Or, as a noun, "the liquid in which a solute is dissolved to form a solution." The all-encompassing substance that through osmosis a balance of concentration between inside and outside of the molecule become saturated, is useful for something as simple as making chocolate milk to a diluting a solution's concentration through the addition of a more neutral solvent like water to save a life. The underlying human condition, or as a collective, what makes nations, groups, neighborhoods, the unmeasurable parts of society with it's convictions, desire to assist and grow, and self-sacrifice, is our solvent. It is not measured or given the credit when it comes to the solution. You will not hear someone say, "ah the human condition and the need to connect, really showed up to day to help ol' Betsy up the stairs." No, rather we give credit to the man or woman whom ...

As the earth spins, the cold wind blows, from The North down, covering the plains with a sheet of bitter sting, simply known as, winter. The earth, she spins on a titled axes, for that is what we all know, some audaciously question, however the seasons change, the heat of summer becomes the cool of fall followed by the frigid state of late winter. These months, they linger, they titillate us with, “so close, but so far away,” as the springtime season smell is in the air, but dampened by a heavy cold.  Walking my dog outside, a Husky, for she loves the winter, she embraces and sits in the cold, as the snow covers her majestic coat, and her piercing blue eyes gleam through the greyness of the winter morning, I notice a peace that I will not get again, not today. The rest of my day is not a walk in solace, nor is it a practice in mindfulness, it is rather, chaotic, involving me holding on, riding, rather than controlling, attempting not to judge, attempting to be a, “better” pers...

In a house recently purchased, heated to comfort, in clothes recently cleaned, with a sippy-cup full of organic cream and milk, while a pure-bread dog sleeps at the foot of a recently purchased couch, as a 55-inch TV displays the high definition cooking show, a child, healthy in both brain and lungs apparently, throws down her baby in what her parents can best describe as “boredom.” This child’s evening has not gone so well thus far, from getting picked up by a mom whom is understanding, healthy, beautiful, from a day care that is caring, loving, intimate, this child demanded stimulation due to having an abundance all day. It appears to no longer suffice merely haveing people listen to what ever jumbled sentence a 2-year-old’s mind can put together, but she requires stimulation as well. No longer does mere existence excite the family, but discipline and progression past fits of tantrums are the new standard.   An evening of ups and downs the child seems easily agitated by thin...