Insidious Adaptation

It isn't that we have such great lives, and that man as a whole is not living in his own squalor, but it's the fact that there is a reprieve offered. There is a way out of suffering, out of heartache, there is a peace that can be found here on earth that few really allow themselves to see. One could argue that man has a desire to suffer, living in destruction, to harm one another to then receive harm. We know that if people are suffering in the world that even as calloused as we have become, saturated with news of horrors unheard of in our own life, that we still hurt because others hurt. We can continue to distance in our minds of the suffering of other people, but we hurt, or we distance ourselves from the reality of it. When we start, in one way or another, to distance from the reality of human suffering, we all suffer. Think about when you read a memoir about some horrors a man or woman has lived through. We read these things as stories, yet there is a thin strand of re...

A choice to change isn't exactly where the change starts is it? Like isn't the choice to change just acknowledging a change needs to occur and the reason for a change is what is being addressed? Is the reason for change because of a consequence, because of something so significant that it can no longer go unnoticed? Take weightless for example, many people claim they need to change their diet or lifestyle to lose weight, but then instead of taking out what they must already recognize as the problem materials, by way of recognizing lifestyle choices, they go too far and want a restrictive diet plan. Doesn't it make more sense to start with acknowledging why the change in the first place? After all, the holidays are a time where it becomes socially acceptable to eat more indulgent foods therefore putting on weight in a lot of cases, especially if the rest of the year you were working on diets only to let it go at the end and do it all over again the next year. Isn't start...

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...

It's too bad... When the principals of America, based on Christianity, are now defiled with corruption. There's not even anyone to blame. There is the devil, he finds this stuff all very fascinating. There are people who have inundated the devil in their life, by way of a justified purpose. There are people who continue to remain on the outskirts, not wanting to choose sides. There are the rights the lefts all of which have their flaws, man and sin and all that. It's when we look to the wrong of the other side more than we spend time on promoting our own that I find fascinating. Offense wins games. To go on the offensive, is to be active in an attempt to score, in an attempt to win of some sort. Defense protects, tries to stop the other team from scoring. However, what side is it that continues to devalue the opposing team completely? What game is that where we stand on the sideline, send out a tweet or make a meme not to promote anything, but to defile the other ...

There seems to be a culture of underlying corruption, one of questions more than answers. Really, is all one has to do to corrupt or detangle another's beliefs is question. Is all the serpent did with Eve was question whether or not God meant this tree, this one right here? This little guy? It's a simple rubbing of a sweater that causes a bare thread to pop out and then a simple tug from it's owner that causes the entire piece to go to into the garbage real quick.  Lies and deceit are not as apparent as we would like them to be. Instead, for I love the use of my favorite word ever, they are, insidious. Yes, lies are sneaky little comments, jabs, questions, that to a person not very strong in their convictions tend to waver, fall, look back and be like, "whoa, that was quick." In reality, things are not as much a surprise until we look back at themt. On Netflix there is a docuseries (new word for the dictionary) about the 90's. I found it kind of funny...

On a September day in 1985, a joker was born. A humorous attempt at being liked, not to serve others with his humor, however to receive their admiration for it.  jest·er ˈjestər/ noun HISTORICAL a professional joker or “fool” at a medieval court, typically wearing a cap with bells on it and carrying a mock scepter. synonyms: fool , court fool, court jester,  clown ,  harlequin ,  pantaloon ;  More a person who habitually plays the fool. It is the intent of man to which we can measure their success. If a man wants to be rich to hoard riches, then that is who he is. If a man's wants a business to grow a business and provide for many employees in a work environment he influences, then that is who HE is. A person who makes themselves a fool for another to laugh, noble. Where as I, at my most-selfish, most ignorant to the needs of those around me, wanted you to laugh at me, for that showed you notice...

Chameleons, are in fact, Chameleons. Not in what they are but in how they are a point of reference, an oftentimes derogatory one at that. "I was a chameleon." - A client in reference to mimicking behaviors. The same ones that interfered with his ability to grow as his own person. Chameleons are a distinctive and highly specialized clade of Old World lizards with 202 species described as of June 2015. These species come in a range of colors, and many species have the ability to change color.- Wikipedia circa 2018 What happens when what was originally meant to be an adaptive behavior, for we all adapt, turns into loss of self? When exactly is the threshold where a man, loses himself, takes on the qualities of the environment, and then suffers due to inauthenticity? If we all adapt and grow, then wouldn't being a chameleon, be a natural thing, like a good natural thing? There is a line that we all cross sometimes where an efficient behavior turns into a troubled one...

The sun creeps in and out of the clouds, shining down through the breaks in an otherwise dismal appearance. The ground's saturation, remnants of last night's rainfall. The promise and confirmation off what those dark, lingering clouds mean for the day. All mere backdrops of a billboard to a new sports store opening up in town.  The billboard is nothing spectacular, actually interesting. A few Nebraska Cornhusker fans, oh, and did I mention today is the funeral of Senator and War Hero John McCain start of college football. More specifically, the Nebraska Cornhuskers and their famed return of the prodigal son, Scott Frost. A reminder of leadership as opposed to pompous presentation. A reminder that athletes, no matter how prominent, no matter how talented, follow true leadership. Ask Michael Jordan what he has to say about Phil Jackson.  Leaders, lead.  This isn't about that though, as much as I thew that in for relevancy. For context to the billboard. The young ...

I'm supposed to write something here. Something that is to help either me or others. This, not an expectation for myself, however, an obligation, for otherwise why exist? Why would a person exist, of only to experience life for himself, gain, for himself, hold all knowledge, for himself? What is that good for?  The thoughts consume me after I disappointed myself. After an evening where I was interacting with my daughter, trying to brush teeth at bed time, only to have her subtle defiance get to me for the last time. As she sat just at the right angle, refusing to lift her mouth up and open for me to brush, and my 3rd or 4th prompt was getting shorter, she became frustrated, she threw a book to the side, it hit me in the face, and I became angry. I slid the book with force across the floor, yelled close to her face, stood up, picked her up, and put her on her bed and told her, "You made me angry!" "No, you wanted to be defiant and now I am angry!" This as my...

Play. I had half a mind to leave the page blank, allow for artistic interpretation to the emptiness that very few things offer these days. To have some sentence at the end about what to make of your own blank page, your own life's purpose etc. However, I decided instead to provoke. When was the last time you allowed the mind to wander? When was the last time you didn't stop or try to control the thoughts? When was the last time you were allowed to actually daydream? I feel sometimes that the phone, the thumbprint, the scroll, the 5-10 minutes wasted, and then the rush to catch back up on work or be present with children, or try to catch back up on the conversation you were missing, prevents us from doing so. I feel as though the mind's ability to be, and explore, no longer exists as it once has. Now, sitting, dreaming, and getting nothing accomplished are not warranted in this world either, nor would that be fulfilling, but everything in the world now seems a way to...

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...