she is more…A Mother’s Day Story

“Mom, where are my blue socks with the little pink hearts?” shouted Kallie from her upstairs room. 

Lynn (Mom) walked from the kitchen, where she was making breakfast, to the landing midway up the stairs, “They are in your top drawer on the right side, with all your other socks -same place that they have been for the last four years; and remember the rule of not shouting in the house?”

“Yes Mom, thank you.”  ‘You’ was drawn out in typical adolescence overkill.  Kallie was the middle child in this busy household.

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Sag Mir, Wo Die Blumen Sind?

This German folk tune, later sung by a host of musicians including Peter, Paul, and Mary, asks a very good question in its title; “Where have all the flowers gone?”   Throughout the song, the songwriter misplaces a multitude of people and things – I used to sing this song in my eighth grade German class.   Listening to the tune brought back a memory of the last time I “lost” my keys.  All of us have lost our keys, books, wallet or purse, only to find the missing artifact in some obvious place a few moments, or hours later.  We are amazed to think that we could have overlooked during our frantic search a set of keys sitting on the kitchen table.   Could the keys have become invisible for two hours, and then just reappeared?  Is there a wormhole to a distant universe in my kitchen?  Or maybe, when we lose, or temporarily misplace something, it is because we have forgotten where ‘it’ came from and how to find ‘it’ once it has become missing?

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Filling the Glass

It appears to me that life, nature, and dice always arrive in polar opposite pairs; not always, but often enough. If I throw a pair of dice, I invariably get a six and a one. If I get a raise at work, the transmission in my car blows up, thus nullifying any potential extra money I may have planned on. Often the opposites are not equal in strength; a big positive is only partially offset by a minor negative, or vice versa – so equality in a specific event is not a given. This concept helps me understand the optimists and pessimists of this world; optimists believe life will be driven by more wining pairs than losers, and pessimists favor the opposite. However you view the world, your glass is rarely empty or completely full, it is somewhere in between. The trick to living a happy and fulfilling life then, is to manage the level in the glass.

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A Good Dog

Kaizer, our 100 pound lap-dog, can suck the negativity and anger right out of anyone, his enthusiasm for life fills a room when he enters it; as does his enormous head, long and lean body, and huge feet.  His tail can be compared to nuclear energy; it is meant for good, but when it’s near a coffee table where any breakables are on display – the incredible force of his nonstop, speed-of-light tail can only leave destruction and heartache behind.  He is one of two dogs whose home we share (note the implied ownership – they hold the mortgage and have never made a payment), and without them our home seems empty and too quiet.  Kaizer is a good dog (and Harley – so are you).

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A Mosquito in the Back Yard

Have you ever wondered what it might feel like to be a mosquito? Probably not, and if you have perhaps you should seek immediate psychiatric help. For the moment though, we’ll pretend its okay to consider becoming a small, annoying pest. The good news about a mosquito is that they belong to a very large family. Cousins, aunts, uncles, brothers and sisters are in abundance, although they come and go rather quickly. Your family name is Culcidae, and there are 3,500 different species in your family. We all know people who can’t go anywhere without meeting a friend (and it’s annoying); mosquitoes are like that.

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Love Happens in the Moments Between Dreams

My bride shifted her leg, just a little, but enough so that my foot no longer touched hers.  That was enough to bring me from a deep slumber into a semi-conscious state where dreams appear real, and reality flickers like a candle on a dark night.  We were spooning, cuddled together under clean sheets and a down comforter, perfectly matched as two spoons in drawer.  She was warm, radiating a soft fire that kept the winter chill from invading our bed.  She says that I am like a heater, always good to keep the bed warm, but it is she who brings warmth.  My knees touch the inside of her thighs, and my left hand rests gently on her hip.  I feel her body rise with every breath, and I hear the soft melody of air caressing her lips.  But my foot is no longer in contact with hers and that causes a ripple in my happiness, so without my asking or prompting, my left foot moves the two inches needed to find her.  And then, having accomplished its goal my foot can be at peace again.  

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People Are Just People

The lady seated to my left is quietly sleeping, now that the turbulence has ended and the plane is smoothly making its way across Texas. Her neatly groomed white hair frames a lightly tanned face, with lips that support a broad smile, and wrinkles that testify to memories of a life fully lived. She boasts those fine lines at the corners of her mouth that come from smiling more often than frowning.  I had the pleasure of speaking to her while she was being helped onto a wheelchair while boarding.   She didn’t understand English and it didn’t matter, because she said thanks with a sincere smile and nod when I offered help. I did not need a linguist to interpret her meaning.

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The Vast Middle Ground

The bell shaped curve, that great equalizer of the school classroom, is meant to explain how a population of test scores will eventually unfold itself neatly along a predetermine path, thus displaying the test results into upper, lower, and average positions. In my eighth grade English class, I prayed that everyone else was as confused and ill-prepared as I, so the entire curve would be adjusted downward, giving me a fighting chance for a graded-on-the-curve C. But the concept of a predictable outcome of highs, mediums and lows, is not just used in school; cars are labeled as luxury, mid class, and economy, you can fly in first class, coach, or in lower fare seats. The bell shaped curve is also used to described our life (yours and mine), in terms of its quality when compared to everyone else. Are we middle class, upper class, or poor? Those labels are thrown at us by politicians, reporters, educators; the need for others to categorize our life into a single box is nearly fanatical in its scope.

Perhaps worse is when we place our ability to be happy (content, or joyful) on a human bell shaped curve, relegating the amount of time we can spend being at the apex of life to 10-15 %, and when we are ‘just average’ to 70% of life’s timeline. I don’t believe people knowingly choose a mid-level happiness state for the bulk of their life, I think it just happens. I think we self-impose an expectation that being in a constant state of over-the-top exuberant happiness is wrong – only weird or naive people think like that. We tend to accept that good is good enough, and great is rare.

Ask someone the question, “How are you?”  The overwhelming response is, “Good.” You will get a few greats, and a few that are  ousy, but good will dominate. I submit that being great is a much more natural state that being good, and that we can, and should, redefine the curve to include more great, and less good and lousy. I believe that the plan was always for greatness, and we have deviated from where we can be.

Here are a few ways to move the bar towards great:

  • Redefine the driving force that creates your personal happiness (or joy) away from external sources to internal ones. Try not to rely on a person, place or event to make you happy. Choose to be happy all on your own.
  • Use your own definition for happiness, not that of someone else. It’s your life, you get to define it.
  • If happiness and joy are elusive, try doing something great for someone else, and something great for yourself too. Feeling great spreads from person to person like butter on warm bread.

I’m not proposing an arrogant version of great or a prideful view of happy. Just the opposite, I am promoting a humble and sincere version of being at the top, where there is room for everyone.

I find joy in my faith, where I am told that I am special, I am one of a kind and I am loved beyond my capacity to comprehend. There is nothing wrong with feeling good, but there is something very right about being great.

Thanks for reading.

Fast Fast

The title of this piece is either a double entry (which should be caught by spell check), or the writer is finally showing signs of his age.  Or perhaps the meaning is exactly as it is written.  Fast fast could mean to hurry hurry, now now, or to run very fast; and I mean very fast.  Or, since fasting in the Biblical sense means to abstain from eating (mostly), the title could mean to not eat at all, nothing, nada: no food whatsoever.  Combining the two definitions would mean to hurry up and not eat.  Personally, I love to eat; so I wonder why I might desire to quickly move towards something that I don’t want to do.  In reality, I would drag myself in the slowest possible fashion towards a goal of eating less, let alone not eating at all.  So maybe there is another choice.

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It Is Okay

In the shopping mall, or in the parking lot adjacent to the mall, as we approach Christmas Day the intensity increases in almost  geometric proportions.  In other words, it can get pretty nasty out there.  Not with everyone, and not to astronomic levels, but on average the anxiety index goes up as we near the big day.  And, if you are one who believes that welcoming the New Year is the second most important day of the year, then the stress will last until sometime in January.  There are moments, perhaps days, when the stress dissipates, allowing joy to sneak past the barriers of hurry and rush, bringing forth that smile for which we all search.  Why are all of us so determined to self-inflict stress, drama, anxiety, and heartache into the holiday season?  Could it be our unnatural, yet all-encompassing need for perfection?  Everything needs to be just right. The need for “right” usually isn’t even for us; it not an “about me” complex that rules the emotional landmines cluttering the shopping, cooking, and decorating scheduled for today.  No, we need everything to be just right for everyone else.  It is the giving part of our celebration which provides such amazing joy and unprecedented weariness in the same instant; it’s the Yin and Yang of Christmas.  I say it is time to keep the Ying (amazing joy) and throw out the Yang.  I am promoting the idea that not being perfect is okay.  Imperfection is the pavement on the road to happiness.

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