Month: October 2022

It is all so massive and minuscule. Earth is a massive planetary well of deep, seemingly inexhaustible resources. Earth is a speck of cosmic dust orbiting a star in the Orion Spur of the Milky Way galaxy. The history of human civilization, and culture, is voluminous with layers of events and intrigue. Human history is less than one one hundredth of one percent of the history of life on earth. Perception is everything. On the one hand, a subject or event could be like the most important thing. On the other hand, it may mean nothing. I could be the guy that wants to get into a fight with the next person in line at the convenience store because I’m still pissed off over the outcome of a sports game, and the person I’m about to fight with would not even know what the game is. So, how do we come to grips with the actuality of matters at hand, the scale, and how it’s perceived. It’s all or nothing, or nothing at all. How important is it? It’s all in what you’re looking at, and how you’re looking at it.

Media matters have been masterminded for millennia. Media traditions have an exceedingly wide range. From the subliminal to the sublime range the means of instruction that is communicated and shared. Is it the voice heard in the head, the broadcast heard by many, the rumor spreading through the crowd, the oral tradition passed down generationally, the suspicion of intuition, the song sing songed by the poet, or the mandate issued by the boss? Streaming from transmitter to receiver the evolutionary procession of events is fertilized with the information at hand. Suspect the informer, and seal the receiver. The character of the event cascade is a function of the character of the information. Who/what is spreading the word, and why?

Pure communication has coherence. Impure communication is incoherent. Chaos exists. It is a necessary and regular variable in the function of reality. The reality stream in and out of chaos is everlasting; no problem. Order is a variable also. No problem. Reconciling the reality function with these two variables in perpetual play is a major memorial aspect of the experience of life. The meaning, purpose, and expression of the happenings included in the reality is the nature of each bubble of reality, and that bubble’s culture. So, the purity of the communication, from the simple cellular function, all the way up to the complex biophysical structure affects the evolutionary trend for chaos or order. The indicator that is of interest right now is whether or not this aspect of reality is gaining or losing coherence in the primary awareness of the human inhabitants of earth. Are things growing more orderly or chaotic? That answer is relatively important. What’s the scale of the realty? It is all in how you look at it.

For the sake of this discussion, I am going to try and not impose importance on any aspect of any particular topic. There is, however, some topic matter that is impressed on us as being of great importance. The fragility of public health and safety is a routine theme stressed of deserving our utmost attention. Capitalizing on the dualistic insistences of us and them, as well as, the repetitive reminder that our health is at constant risk, traditional media sources insist that we comply with specific dictates, and shut off consideration of any alternatives. The messaging is very strict, yet very shaky, in my view. We’ve been repeatedly told to trust our governmental leadership, and system, for societal, and fiscal responsibility. There’s an ever increasing push to get modern medicine into our lives to make us more well. There was supposedly an Industrial Age phase change to cleaner environmental practice put into place generations ago. Nuclear responsibility was like a pledge. Commitment to international cooperation and detente was a promise. Transparency!! Not to mention the God given right to freedom, justice, and liberty. And where do stand, in any one’s view, on these issues today? What is the trend? From where I’m standing it looks like there is a factor contributing to major league incoherence, and a trend in the direction of increased chaos; if not mass confusion. It’s hard to think of a reason to not seriously consider the source of our mainstream information.

Conventional wisdom is easy to breakdown once the closed mind opens. Therein lies the trick, and the potential reason why. There’s no obligation to think outside the box, however, it will provide a change in perspective. Try and wrap the mind around this. It might be a valuable place to start. (Apathy and/or disinterest not withstanding) There is no distance that can separate two entangled particles, none. They can be light years apart, and have instantaneous communication. So how big is space!? There is an infinite amount of space inside an atom. So how small is the atom!? There is a value to reconsidering conventional wisdom. There is a value in taking formerly trusted news/information sources with a grain of salt. The departure, and new view of reality may be the difference between a shiny water planet blue ball of earth majestically, blissfully, swimming in harmony with eternity, or an alter self spinning as burnt speck of rock dust circling the sun. In quantum reality both are true. How I/we relate to the “News of the World” will determine how and what comes about. It’s all in how you look at it.

Some years ago I was invited into the home of a couple who had hired me for the day to clean up their yard after a windy storm. V and J are the parents of a good friend of mine. My friend had not only recommended me to clean up the yard; he planned to join me that day to do the work. I had been an acquaintance of V and J for many years. They had seen me at my worst. While I had not exactly been vulgar in their company, I had been, in various combination, impolite, arrogant, disrespectful, and a jerk. As the time passed since our last meeting my life, and disposition, had begun to change. By the time the day arrived to re-introduce myself I had become less offensive by most standards, and interested in people in a much different way. V met me in the driveway upon my arrival. It was just him and me. My friend is customarily late, and was again this particular morning. I immediately recognized V as an honorable, mild mannered, decent, solicitous guy. There was no sense of a bygone judgement of me that stressed our interaction. As conscious as I was of my past sorry behavior is as glad as I was to know that I could be prompt, punctual, and attentive to that present here and now. That is how that day began.

The property and yard cleanup at V’s house was a combination of a mess that had just been made by a storm and residual stuff that had accumulated over time. V was good to show me around the place, and there was nothing there that was above my pay grade. I could help him out; and it could be done in one day. V seemed comfortable with my comportment, mood, and attitude. We seemed to hit it off. So far it was a far cry from the concerned look of disappointment that I remember having gotten from V years before. It was a solo effort at first. My buddy was late, and V, as well as his wife J, was not up to this work. It was time to get started, and so I did.

Eventually my buddy showed up. We plugged along until noon. That’s when we were called in to the house to eat. The kitchen table was set, and I was invited to sit down. In this space, of nearly forsaken hospitality, I would find sure and enduring inspiration. Not only are J and V very friendly solicitous hosts, they are remarkably steady in their own truth. Affirmatively we make a grace before we eat. A conversation begins driven by current events. Jerry Sandusky was on trial for sexually assaulting kids. I heard the most mature discussion about this popular story. Remarkably, without righteous emotion, regurgitative hype, or hyperbole we explored dimensions of human behavior and organization that could only be reached by emotionally balanced people. Inspiration grew and grew. J maintained her own discipline throughout. She tended to her own duties deliberately. All the while her listening skills were on display. This was evidenced by the timely relevant observations she would make and interject. V never lost his balance or even temperament moving through a great conversation. It was inspirational! I want to be able to discuss matters in a matter of fact way without getting mixed up, and compromised, by a personal pride, righteous indignation, passion, or a narcissistic love of the sound of my own voice. I’m inspired by how productively ideas can be developed on a hot-button topic. With a type of modest dignified honor we collectively make the afternoon terrifically meaningfully productive. I’m inspired by the healthy educational growth I’m feeling without anyone, or thing, succumbing to hype and/or degradation. Beautifully inspirational for me from beginning to end. What a terrific, and unexpected, element to the day’s experience. Surprise. Surprise!

Being the beneficiary of being present and accounted for this day’s tasks is great. We finish up our work, and say goodbye. J encourages me to be my best self. She wants to read my creative writing when I get around to doing it. V stops me to pay me. He shakes my hand. Forget the dollars and cents. That firm, direct, “I mean it” handshake from V meant much more than the pay. I’m glad I was asked to, and was able to help. I believe V and I mutually appreciated our acquaintance. That would be the last time I would see V.

V and J were married for sixty four years. Last spring they both became very ill. They were separated. They went to different healthcare facilities for treatment. I felt a very strong sense of what it means for them to be apart. From a distance I cared. Then the news came that V had died. There was a memorial service planned for V. There we would have another meeting. Could J make it?

At the funeral home that sunny spring afternoon I met my friend. I offered a real condolence to my buddy, and let him know about how much I thought of his dad. “Is your mom here?” I inquired. My friend told me that she was there. I could feel a charge in my heart. He told me that she was in the wheelchair. She can’t see well at all, but if you get up close, and tell her who you are, she will remember. Just then she came into view. Sure enough she was in a wheelchair. There were a lot of people around. Family. Friends. Her people. The family’s people. It was a very special afternoon. It was not the right time to re-introduce myself right away, so I kneeled at V’s open casket. I thanked him with a prayer. Eventually the scene relaxed. J was alone with the Jamaican lady who had helped J get there, was supporting J, and helping her for the day. While they were alone at the front of the room I was sure to make my way to J’s side, and introduced myself.

It was obvious that J has been involved in an immense test. Her posture appeared wounded, her bloodshot tear filled eyes bleary, and her complexion tried. There was a beauty as well. A beauty that belied the fatigue. I did what I had been told. Getting up close, I told her who I was and that I was very sorry to hear that V had died. She acknowledged who I was, and asked if I would say a prayer with her. Our left hands gently touched… Bless us… Bless these… Bless this… That’s how I remember the prayer. The actual prayer is withheld in the ether of truth and mystery. My realization is that the prayer was/is being offered by someone I really know. J is an affirmative version of herself. Her conviction is emanating from a place of peace, as grievous as the circumstances may be; it is strong. She’s sharing it! I can feel the inspiration arising inside me again. I let her know, “When I visited you and V at your home, those years ago, I was very much inspired.” With a very calm breath, J deliberately asked me, “How are you going to share your inspiration?”

The resumption of the ordinary began soon after bidding goodbye to J, thanking her, and disconnecting my hand from hers. I nodded and thanked the woman helping J, and found a seat among the family and friends in the funeral home. Respiring, the moment upon moment rested in me. Soon we were back in the parking lot, and on the way.

Life today includes being of service to other people. While it is not shriveled or grand, it is. There is a practice of being available to listen to and share about solution based activities for those that may want certain bits of help on the way. Messages of hope and help are carried in multi various ways. I’m glad that I’ve been introduced to and guided into a service fellowship that has a mission of helping others. It’s been helpful to me, and it’s neat to see that it’s possible to be part of a chain reaction that keeps the message of, and service of, help flowing. So it’s a practice. It’s a practice more often than it’s a passion. Yet it also is.

About a month ago we were wrapping up a regular get together held on behalf of our service practice. It is now routine. There is a vernacular which is largely parroted because it’s got proven effectiveness. In spite of this, there is always active creativity that leaks into our discussions. There is real candor for sure. The candor is routine too. In this way, another day comes and goes. On this particular occasion I am met afterward by someone that has approached me directly. It’s not unusual to get some specific one on one feedback. On this evening this feedback snapped me up. A lady I had never met before approached me. She made this point, “Thank you for sharing your inspiration.” Oh my?!?! The prayer!