What Happens When We Lose Sight of The Bigger Picture?

I see this in every aspect of my life and I am astounded. I wonder about this.   …a lot.

I have friend’s who hate their jobs and rightly so, I may add. They are overworked, underpaid, lack truthful appreciation from their superiors and long to return to a time in the past where workers were cherished and rewarded by those who learned how to reap a profit by riding on someone else’s back.

I know parent’s who have children with learning disabilities and are forced to watch their children “fall through the cracks.” They yell and scream at the system caretakers and perhaps eventually, a squeaky wheel gets the grease or in some cases…  it doesn’t.

I see desensitization to violence spawned by our capitalistic society and greed. We compete by chopping off heads in a video game and shooting people death-race style in so many public forums that we have created ad-makers who benefit from air time alongside some ruthless, gruesome theater. “It’s only a movie,” they say.

I argue within the political realm daily with a sullen population that is a current minority in America but has control of our society and its rules. They are the minority because they have removed themselves from the circle of community and care humans need to survive. They no longer identify as a wolf pack that protects its most vulnerable members. They resemble a dog fighting ring where helpless competitors are pitted against each other in a dual for life as the perpetrators watch and cheer.

I listen to the “religious right” constantly telling people that they have no power within themselves. They are “broken” and “unworthy” (of what I wonder? Love? Contentment?) They are told to look outside of themselves and “answers” will rain down if they do …whatever thing they must do. Like an abused spouse, they are told they are nothing without something or someone else. I see this trickery work, too. It strips people of intestinal fortitude.

I feel the ram of shopping carts at Market Basket by folks who are so oblivious to what’s going on around them they can’t push properly. They can’t smile back at me and seem consumed with rage.

I see these things every day too….

I understand that everyone seems to have problems. I really do. I also know that the world is getting more difficult in places and the people in those places are suffering. I understand the “magic bullet” concept and how it is being used to take advantage of an impoverished, undereducated and uninspired population buy offering a quick answer to our woes. America is a land that needs sick patients to support the pharmaceutical industry so keeping people sick is a full-time endeavor. I can easily see where many feel their lives are out of control and why they keep searching and searching and searching for some outside fix to no avail. I shake my head.

On the other side of this calamity I notice that there are people I know that make me think. I mean really think about people rather than situations. Some of us are facing problems of unmeasurable proportion that make all the things I’ve mentioned up above seem to paltry in comparison. I have two beautiful, young friends fighting a never-ending cancer battle. It drains them and affects everyone around them because people who feel love endure a helplessness to do anything. Some people wake up facing death every single day until it comes. And some never have to feel this.

I have another who has lost both a wife and a daughter. That pain is permanent. I lost someone I enjoyed talking too daily, to an unwarranted death when this person whom I adored, evaporated into thin air – just like that. I use the term “unwarranted” loosely. What I mean is that had this person been given better health guidelines and taught the discipline to follow them, he would still be alive today. The magic bullet pill was too good to be true and “thoughts and prayers” didn’t save him as intended. The unnecessary loss is what makes it worst. Woulda…coulda…shoulda haunts me.

I think it all comes down to how we handle control - or a lack of control. We are all fine when we can control something. Sometimes I think that’s why we have children. It appears we are all striving to get that feeling of control as many times in a day as possible. We know that every little bit we grab will give us that high feeling we hope to capture. We are kind of taught that without it, we have no value. This is true for only those of us whom are not rendered out of control by death, or illness or some other finite end that becomes inevitable. It is this state where we learn the most about being human. Being forced out of control and no longer being able to use our control as a measure of self-worth is enlightening. But no matter what, we must still watch everyone else grapple for control and not think they have it. How strange a journey we travel, side by side, eh?

I will tell myself over and over and over that I have healthy children and am grateful they have the ability to live long enough to struggle and make some horrendous mistakes in their lives. Then…  they will have the opportunity to live eighty more years to fix their problems…  …or not fix them. It’s their choice and I am lucky they are living.

I too will hate most of my jobs, but I will strive to live years after I have them to try to forget and I am certain, during the next 30 or 40 years, I will find a way to do what I like and find adventure along the way. Unlike some, I have the gift of time.

I won’t fall prey to magic bullet fixes anywhere. I’ll only take life-saving drugs and learn how to “just say no.” Luckily, I can read. I know if a solution seems to easy I should probably do more research.

I know I have the power within myself to fix things and will refuse to wait around for power to flow in from anywhere else. Action is everything. “Thoughts and Prayers” are simply a nicety. I am glad I grasped this knowledge before it became twisted within me.

I will seek no more control than what I need to conduct my life respectfully and with integrity and courage. Controlling others neither makes me stronger or wiser. I see this atrocity happening and that helps me learn to avoid it.

I will stick with the majority within my community in being helpful and will act to provide relief to those who struggle and our most vulnerable citizens. I will keep urging others to do the same and not listen to the opposite “hype.” My fellow human is depending on me and that is what really gives me strength! …my action, not someone else’s.

Lastly, when that shopping cart plows into mine I will smile and excuse the person knowing they are hurting. I hope my smile will speak volumes and help them on their journey. And without a need to control, I’ll move over.

Never lose sight of the bigger picture.  You will find yourself lost without it.

Precious Lily

It’s most likely inevitable… Lily is dying.

She had lived so many years within Phil’s embrace that the trauma of being ripped away had eroded her to the core. He was after all, her savior. It was he who had hid her during the Feng-Shui occupation by covering her with enormous petals and encouraging her not to bloom but to look small and encased.

Lily came to the treatment center with others in a dish garden. She was a gift to one of the doctors who had healed a German guest. The florist who matched the combination of plants was inexperienced and had to rely on aesthetics rather than compatibility to make the arrangement. It served its initial purpose but within weeks a few of the occupants of the dish rebelled and showed their contempt for being mashed together by dying off. The fresh ribbons became stained by water and dirt and were also discarded leaving only a sprig of a tall peace lily and a philodendron in a Vietnamese ceramic pot.

In contrast, the philodendron was bushy and wild. He grew in every direction starting out with the morning sun and bending westward in the late afternoons with the changing light. His body was twisted and bristled. Like a man who would commandeer his troops, he towered over thin Lily and encircled her.

Lily kept her identity by growing tall and straight. She threw her arms open far over her head as in joyful exuberance knowing that she was safe being surrounded by this masculine companion. He wove in and out of her dark green body sometimes lifting her into the air and sometimes blanketing her gently. Life was good.

This existence lasted for many years as patients came and went and the clinic flourished. Eyes set upon Phil and Lily who had eventually grown to heritage proportions and her solid darkness and his variegated streaks were complimented. “Such a beautiful, unplanned pairing” said a woman noticing the unique plant couple.

When the Asian came for a stay and opted to pay in the form of Feng-Shui advice somehow, Lily was observed. She was deemed as a “wild” plant that grew in opposition to a peaceful environment. She was labeled “disruptive” to the healing process. It was decided that Lily had to leave the premise for healing to continue.

Lily might have been ripped away right then and there but a plant-lover heard of the dilemma and felt the icy pain of death to this plant couple and saw the union as more than a simple cosmic failure. She stole the pot and whisked it away to solve the problem. She brought the loving couple home and despite hearing all the forewarned advice of the impending doom the plant couple would place within the air surrounding their pot, she cared for them.  The air was not poisoned and the plant couple lived for many more years, blooming gracefully and peacefully in their Vietnamese pot.

Phil continued to grow wildly and embrace Lily as he always had because it’s what he knew, and she loved being held even as he stole most of her space because it’s what she did. Eventually, she had no more room to give and her arms began to weaken. He embraced her fiercely hoping to revive her, but she continued to spiral downhill and wilt.

The plant lover knew the plant-couple needed to change. She changed the dirt and moved them into a larger dish. Then she gave them space and quiet, and waited.

Phil continued to thrive, adjusting well but Lily was shocked. She was experiencing too much new…  too much change…  too quickly. The new-differentness was crippling.

Did the plant-lover make an error?

It was finally decided, on the brink of death that Lily would be taken from Phil and planted lovingly in a small pot with the hope of starting over. She would be nourished and loved in front of a warm heater during a joyous holiday season where she was never alone. The hope was that if she could bring herself to recover she would be strong enough to return to Phil’s embrace to grow as always.

Phil is waiting. The plant-lover is tending. Lily is dying. Life will run it’s intended course, as always.

Time will tell.

What Can I expect of Facebook?

An old, slightly bedridden woman once told me that we live our lives and in the end, get the expectations we create for ourselves.

At the time she said this, I was visiting her while she was in a clinic healing from a long year of unyielding work. She owned a company that educated preschool children and she had grown weary attempting the international travel necessary to oversee her expansion. Probably due to her condition, I regrettably didn’t pay much heed to her current wisdom or ramblings in general. I knew she was in pain and talking was a welcomed distraction. She had just finished writing a book about her life and although I was fascinated with her accomplishment, I wasn’t to think about our discussion again until many years later.

I was debating blocking a friend on Facebook for what I felt was an increasingly common tactic of “toeing the line” in a comment. He took a wishy-washy stance when commenting on a very precise action. I called him on it and he deflected. This has happened in the past so many times with him (and others) that something inside me finally snapped. I repeated my accusation and asked him to clarify. He deflected again. I kept it up until he sent me a private message asking me how I could confront him in public? Perhaps I already knew how he felt about the subject and he asked why I would force him to make a statement in front of others. His unwillingness to take a public stance left him free to befriend anyone on both sides of the argument, I supposed. Why should he have to choose right or wrong in front of anyone? His “mysteriousness” was a tact that helped him feel accepted. To me, this was not an acceptable way to answer a direct question and my expectation was very different. I expected him to put himself out there and allow me the chance to respond based on his truthful answer. He expected my response to be based on his deflection -I believe-to keep him in better standing with the public that was listening in. Thus, not wanting to play this game with him any longer, I blocked him.

I believe I kept digging because at that very moment, I created an expectation. It wasn’t an expectation that would force him to feel as I felt or share my opinion. Rather, I was expecting him to truthfully define and convey his opinion to me so that I could create a response to his honesty. I also felt I reserved the right to choose who this person would be to me in our future dealing based on his position. He could be someone with whom I wanted to align myself, someone I wanted to avoid or someone who became indifferent to me either way. But I felt that his deflection was a safely construed power play to take away my right to choose.  I needed all the information to move forward one way or the other so he couldn’t allow me to have it without facing consequences which might make either of us feel uncomfortable.

I think what this amazing, gently aged author was trying to tell me during our discussion was that I can easily take my power to choose back when I change my expectations. I was expecting someone to answer a question. They chose not to answer. In reflection, this form of not answering seems disrespectful to me and makes me think about how I should judge a participant within a discussion. It does not give me the power to force them to respond. It leaves me with the power to expect something in return for my own personal honesty.

So, I accept this. He is a friend with whom "further" discussion is denied. He will only continue when he feels it is appropriate. He will continue to expect to discuss topics with me but at his pace and discretion. Do I need such a friend? This type of person tries my patience and creates an imbalanced friendship where I feel controlled.

If my expectation is that my friends will enjoy discussions from time to time, then no…  he will not be a friend. If my expectation is that it is not necessary to have balanced discussions, open honesty is too raw, then possibly. Can I have discussions that turn into confrontation and “agree to disagree?” Do I expect to glean something with each discussion? Is there a controlling factor underlying the proposed discussion? Is the answer at least an attempt at honesty and?

All of these questions can be answered when I decide what my personal expectations entail. Creating and defining my own expectations is no easy task and I can see it adjusting itself often as new factors come into play. I will be more aware that other people are constantly creating expectations and will try not to influence them. You alone should “own” what you expect.

When I find the true expectations that are most important to me, I think facebook will fall into place with less aggravation and frustration. I hope I can convince others to be honest with me about their expectations also. In the end, it will be a lot less confusing. …at least for me.

What's A Disability?

Imagine for a moment that you find yourself at a building site. You aren't exactly sure how you got here but it becomes apparent pretty quickly that you are meant to build a house. You see mounds and mounds of materials everywhere. You estimate by looking around that there is enough to build a decent sized home.

As you are still getting the grips on how and why you are here in this spot at this very moment, a crowd of "bosses" in expensive suits comes upon you and scowls. There must be at least ten of them. Before you can even open your mouth they start ordering you to "Get to work." When you try to ask exactly what it is you are supposed to be doing they shout back, "Get building! Stop slacking off!"

So, still trying to piece two and two together you decide since it feels a little intimidating and you still can't figure out how you got here, you'd best get busy. You look around for some tools. At the very least, you can pick up a hammer and a saw and find a set of blue prints and at least appear busy until you figure things out. But no matter how hard you search, there are no tools in sight. The angry "bosses" are off yelling at someone else but they said they'd be back to check the progress so you figure you'd better at least ask them where the tools are to save face.

"There are no tools." they all tell you kind of quietly, as though they don't want anyone else to hear and then at the top of their lungs blurt out, "What? Are you lazy?"

You insist that you are useless to the task without the tools you need to perform the work. You simply can't drive nails or cut wood with your bare hands. They insist you are trying to appear useless. They ask you how many tattoos you have.

Then, a guy walks up with a full tool belt on and asks if he is needed. You are pushed aside and he is hired. The bosses kick you in the behind and send you on your way.

"How will I get back home?" You ask. "You don't deserve a home." they tell you. "You are a failure and a deadbeat. You chose not to work."

You walk away, baffled. You wondered how the new guy came across his tool belt. You had never had one and although in the past it hadn't been an option, it was now everything.

Being born without a tool belt hurts. But you are helpless to change it. Your only hope is that someone will lend you some tools so you can stay alive. But it isn't likely because it won't look good to the "bosses." No one can afford to be on their bad side.

If only you can prove that you aren't lazy enough to have ditched your tools or you aren't irresponsible enough to have lost them. You really just never had an opportunity to acquire them.

Think blindness or deafness. Some folks are born without a tool belt. They desire the same opportunities as the tool bearers but are at a disadvantage. If the bosses could somehow agree to level the playing field somehow, everyone could find a way to produce income and would no longer be called lazy or be kicked in the butt and sent away.

People without tool belts are asked to build houses every day and then ridiculed when they can't. People with disabilities are told to "pull themselves up by the bootstraps" every day when we can't. Because it's easy to say anything. It's harder to say something correctly. These bosses are a dime a dozen. They have all the power today.

I can't imagine an America without social services. I can't imaging not being able to find food to sustain myself in a house-building-without-the-tools- manner. That's very scary.

What would become of my living, breathing life? I shudder when I think of the "bosses" who can only see the job materials and think that we are all identical. I fear their ineptitude. They may be the life of me yet.

The war on Christmas?

I was listening to a friend lament. 

            "When I worked at Home Depot, they forced us to say 'Happy Holidays' instead of 'Merry Christmas,' she told me. "I was mad because after all, it was really Christmas."

            Or was it? What is this "war on Christmas" we are hearing so much about?

            Perhaps what my friend fails to see is that the Christians are sharing these December dates with many other celebrations of many other religions. Here in America, being the "hodgepodge" of cultures, we host many of these religious traditions within an abundance of temples and churches. The person with whom she wished to share her Christian sentiments might have desired to receive a "Happy Hanukkah," or a "Festive Kwanzah" greeting instead. I suppose her employer felt that since this was the case, a "Happy Holidays" would suffice. After all, Christmas, Hanukkah and Kwanzaa are all really just holidays that came from religious events that required time set aside to worship and celebrate with family present. One of the best aspects we have here in our country is the right to come here from somewhere else and be able to bring your religion with you and worship freely. We take pride in this freedom and these family celebrations.

            The Jewish celebration referred to as "Hanukkah" is observed for eight days and eight nights and can occur (according to the Georgian calendar) any time from late November until late December. It can also be referred to as the "Festival of Lights", which just happens to be the same nickname used for "Diwali,"  or the Hindu celebration in November. Of course, the actual Hindu celebration that falls on December 21- 25 is "Pancha Ganapati" where flashing lights, tinsel and colorful hanging ornaments are added to a statue or picture of the deity Ganesha. Children are given gifts which can only be open on the fifth day. I'll bet those little Indians jump up and down on their parents as soon as the sun comes up to get them moving so the present-opening can begin. Sound familiar?  Islamic worshipers celebrate the birth of Mohammad in a similar way Christians celebrate the birth of Christ. There are so many December religious celebrations going on, it's mind-boggling.

            Actually, the Christian celebration of "Christmas Day" looks very much like an ancient event called "Saturnalia" which began in ancient Rome and ran roughly from December 17 for five days. During Saturnalia, a huge banquet was held, businesses, courts and schools were closed and gifts were exchanged. Does this also sound familiar?

            This begs an answer to the question many scholars and others often ask. Why must religion divide us so? If everyone who practices a particular brand of religion could only see the fierce line drawn around them that separates them from others, perhaps they might not be so fast to insist on a precisely religious greeting as opposed to a more generalized salutation. Before religion defines us, we are all human, one and the same, after all. What would happen if the imaginary lines disappeared?

            Being an Atheist leaves me with an advantage, I believe. I am able to clearly see, study and understand many religions without appearing to be a traitor to my faith. Since I do not believe in the existence of a Deity, I study religion from a purely historical viewpoint and can look closely at the people and traditions without the emotional undertones such as the anger displayed by my friend . I find the history fascinating and see many similarities among cultural traditions. Many religions contain a similar main deity, journey and sentiments as others and in order to notice these similarities you have to step over the imaginary line and see things through the eyes of another.

            I would be happy to see folks reveling in the similarities and accepting those who worship alternative Gods as say, distant cousins. These folks seem to have the same goals in desiring to be lifted up from where they are to a higher position filled with love and light. To me, that seems a worthy endeavor no matter what guidelines you choose to follow.

            I am not sure if my friend felt as though the phrase "Happy Holidays" made her joy feel too secular or she just felt shorted by not being able to express her own religious excitement. I was saddened that mere words could cause the feeling of religious censorship. If I were faced with this anger, I would not hesitate to create my own December greeting and it would go something like this:

            Rejoice, human! If you are receiving this message you are alive! Perhaps you have others who are well and alive around you as well. May you be full of peace and the ability to know the joy of giving. We have made it another year and  I am thankful you are all here walking among us.

            It's a bit longer than the traditional December greetings but I'll work on it.