Walking The Journey

One of my favorite holidays as a child was always Halloween. A time to be anything I wanted to be, what I’d imagined for myself throughout the year, fulfilling those fantasy day dreams. Halloween is a time when a child can be anything he wants or anything that he can dream to be. And of course, all the free candy is every child’s dream. The resulting tooth decay and toothaches, well, that’s another issues. Halloween is a time of being a child again for adults as well. We get to dress up in creative ways, maybe reenacting our childhood or being what we wish we could be, much like our child counterparts. For me as an adult, Halloween is a time to watch joy shining from the eyes of my children, entertaining the children of the neighborhood, contributing to the dental bills of their parents. Some in my neighborhood thrive on Halloween, decorating their homes showing their holiday spirit. But of all the elements of Halloween, I have to say the most important for me, back as a child and

The day is October 26, 2009. The time is 0710 hours. The goal: get to school on time. Load up, seat belts on, key in ignition, turn, engine roars, and Christmas music plays from the radio. Yeah, not what you expected to read, and not what I expected to hear. Turning to my son, as he turned to me, both saying at the same time, “Christmas Music”, both shocked. I mean, it’s not even Halloween. Don’t get me wrong, I happen to be a big fan of Christmas music and yes, I will listen to Christmas music “out of season”. I believe that I’m the only one delighted in hearing the joyful sounds of Christmas in October. But again, in October! Isn’t life like Christmas Music in October? We walk along, plan our days, do our best to enjoy our life, and out of the blue, Christmas in October. We are creatures full of expectations from those we love, from our children, from our work, from our friends, pretty much from life. Even though we are fully aware that life offers no guarantees, we easily convin

After about 3 days of a cold, or illness, or whatever it is that has invaded my body, I get pretty tired of it all. I can find myself getting cranky, the physical part affecting the emotional part. I get tired of the lack of energy and motivation illness brings. This all leads to struggling with accepting the fact that I'm sick, not wanting to slow down, not wanting to give in. Stupidity or pride, who's to say, but I just don't want to admit that I'm not up to par. I suppose what I'm talking about is acceptance. In this case, acceptance that I need to slow down and take care of myself, to be a little selfish right now, is what is good and  what I need. In the bigger picture, acceptance plays a major role in many of our issues, not just the physical. We have our perceptions of what life should be and how those close to us, or even those not so close, ought to act. Unfortunately, perceptions are not reality, and acceptance must deal with reality. When we accept li

The word miracle means so much too so many different people. According to Webster, a miracle is “1: an extraordinary event manifesting divine intervention in human affairs; 2: an extremely outstanding or unusual event, thing, or accomplishment; 3 Christian Science: a divinely natural phenomenon experienced humanly as the fulfillment of spiritual law”. Nice definition for something that is often unexplainable, open to interpretation, and to be quite honest, takes a degree of faith to believe and understand. I often gaze out my third story window, through tinted glass, across the blacktop parking lot, at the very tall and thin tree, tallest and oldest in the woods, looking back towards me, welcoming me every day. What a miracle he is to behold. I look at my wife and see the love she has for me (which I don’t completely understand – if you knew me, you’d understand this) reflected from the pools of her blue eyes, that cute girlish grin, both saying I love you. My children are miracles

Have you ever noticed that as we walk through life, we become a type of magnet, attracting others and their baggage? As we walk through life, our minds become filled with the ghostly voices of the present and past, the people who’ve told us who we are, what we’re supposed to be, what is right and wrong, shaping our character and values. These become the labels that surround the authentic self. It can be difficult to recognize these labels, to identify where they come from, and even harder to begin to let them go. In a logical manner, who would want to hold on to the dysfunctional self defeating labels, habits, and people that divert us from our life direction? Oh, but if emotions and patterns were of a logical clothe, it would be so easy, yet they are not, and their weave runs deep into our souls. It’s as if these labels become who we feel we are, and letting them go can cause much fear, anxiety, and frustration. Letting go is a nice phrase, which appears simple and is yet quite di

The English language can be very interesting. A friend of mine from the long ago memories of my youth enjoyed using the word “oxymoron”, which when I first heard the word, I assumed it was a negative insult to an individual’s mental capacity. Upon learning the meaning of the word, I too began seeking out the oxymoron’s of the world. Surprisingly, they’re not too difficult to find, including a calendar given to me, by a relative, which was all about oxymoron’s. We also encounter expressions and phrases that often to not seem to go together or in our understanding of our language, don’t fit. Examples from my own experiences would be words like “man”, to address anyone of any gender or age, “stupid” to mean a great experience, and “bad” to mean good. I’m sure a group of 5 people could list multiple such examples. While spending time in Erie, PA, I drove past a store whose sign read, “Big Woody’s Fireworks: Stun guns, pepper spray, throwing stars, walnut chocolate fudge”. Hard to imagi

The old cult classic, Star Trek, began every episode with, "Space - - - - the Final Frontier. These are the voyages of the starship, Enterprise. Its five-year mission: to explore strange, new worlds, to seek out new life and new civilizations, to boldly go where no man has gone before." The show was a series of the adventures of a captain, his crew, and a space ship as they discovered new worlds and new life forms, different from those of their own. Interestingly, their goal was to seek out, discover, and understand. I recently entered a different world, finding myself amongst a vast group of aliens who dressed different, talked different, and definitely had more energy than I. I found myself in a concert of young artist playing to younger people, in a world of loud noise, jumping screaming youth, flashing lights, and music so loud I still heard it the next day. I may of belonged to a similar world way back when, although quite different from this one, never the less, this

Of all the events I look forward to on my lazy trips to Florida, on the shores of the Gulf, the most beautiful is by far the sunrise and the sunset of each coming and going day. Being more of a fan of the cool crisp mountains, there is something special about sitting on the white sands of Long Boat Key, the roaring of the waves as they claim more territory, washing away the castles of youth, watching the sun fall into the distant ocean waters, disappearing until tomorrow, claiming a new day. If your mind is flooded with pleasant and peaceful memories, you know what I mean. Waking up to the falling snow, filling the skies with white purity, covering the green grass and colorful autumn trees with layers of fluffy white, is a different scene, yet equally beautiful and peaceful. The crispness of the air, the cold embrace on skin and face, awakens the senses to the beauty of winter, the coming of a new season months away, beginning new life, birth, and childlike wonder of what life will b

As much as I enjoy traveling, there’s often the same downside; the last hour. The scenery through Kentucky, Ohio, Pennsylvania, and into New York is especially beautiful in the fall. The colors can be very vivid, welcoming in the upcoming winter. Although, as I arrived in New York, the remnants of the snow from the night before littered the ground and roof tops, telling me that in rural New York, winter has already arrived. No matter how enjoyable the drive is, it almost always seems like the last hour is grueling. This current trip was worse than usual, dark, rainy, hard on the eyes, and the fingers white, as the blood was pushed from them, gripping the steering wheel with great determination. It seems like life can be like these trips to New York. Life has many exciting journeys, creating many wonderful memories. But even in the joy, life has its hours of trials that seem to overshadow the previous joys. Exhaustion can set in, the need for getting back into routines, and wearines

Sitting in my office today, I thoughtlessly reached toward the side of my computer, pushed the pump down on the antibacterial hand sanitizer, and rid my hands of any filthy bacteria that dared to find rest on my skin. It dawned on me as I rubbed in the liquid, with aloe, that I have never utilized hand sanitizer like this before, not since the dreaded H1N1 (aka swine flu) virus hit the scene. It amazed me how easily influenced we can be, the fears generated all we hear and see. I hear stories of horror from this illness and others. We all become paranoid, fearful of what we might contract. It reminds me of the early 1980’s, the big one then a new disease called AIDS, fearful of the dreaded HIV virus. I take illness and disease serious, taking precautions, but also understanding reality. I’ve lost friends to AIDS, and I’ve had people I know contract H1N1. The fear is real, but like AIDS, we can become overexposed to media sources, fueling our fear, much as what is occurring with H1N1.

I once knew a young man who had a love affair with mirrors. He could be seen stopping at any object that reflected his beauty back to himself, to admire his looks, his physical appearance. I’ve also known a woman who would banish every mirror in the world if she could, smashed to viewless broken fragments of glass, too small to cast a reflection. Interesting enough, the young man was of average appearance and the woman was extremely stunning. Funny how we view ourselves. The anorexic who sees only disgusting weight hanging from skin wrapped bones. The man badly scarred from burns seeing only a talented musician. The woman, once heavy and now thin, always seeing the heavy invisible weight that others have forgotten. The man whose head once flowed with beautiful black hair, thinned and balding, still seeing the hair of his youth. Funny how we see ourselves, how we desire to see with our minds and not our eyes. Our physical view is not all that reflects back to us from the mirror. If

In a conversation, we talked about looking behind, seeing the me's and you's of the past, related impact, regrets, desires, and dreams, some still being dreamed and others forgotten. It seems so real to wonder if the paths we have chosen in life have really meant anything, to be remembered, to be recalled. Wondering if anyone will really ever remember the choices made, the sacrifices, our journey. Looking back, our paths are like the footsteps of our life’s journey. They show where we’ve been, who we’ve encountered, when we were solid in our steps and when our walk was shaky. Some of our paths are deep with vivid footsteps; others have been washed away from the tides of life as the steps along an ocean’s edge. I suppose though, in reality, all of our footsteps fade through time, whether blown away from the winds of change or washed clean from the rains of heaven; footsteps become something of the past. It’s the stories passed down from generations, in books, in family bible

Being alone can mean so much too so many people. Many cringe at the thought of being alone, becoming anxious in the presence of others at the mere thought of aloneness. Others yearn for the opportunity to be in the presence of aloneness. And of course, there are multitudes of levels between. Some people seek out being in groups of strangers, making attempts to not be alone, yet the whole time, being completely alone amongst others, faking and hiding their inner turmoil of aloneness, wearing their all too familiar masks. And the other extreme is the one who fakes the smiles, wishing the world would leave him alone, just for a little while. Being alone can allow the voices of the mind to yell so loud it becomes unbearable, and it can also allow the voices of the mind to soothe, relax, and be at peace. Being alone can rush in reality that the noise of life keeps at bay, and it can also trickle in the calmness that solitude and quiet can only bring. Again, aloneness carries so many diffe

The other day I attended my annual eye examination. Don’t you just love those things? I use to hate going to the dentist the most, but my current dentist is quite unbelievable, no more fear. I’ve never been a fan of having my eyes poked at, really gives me that yucky feeling. It seems as I get older the dilation of my eyes lasts longer. In my twenties, I had an eye related injury and had to have my eye and inside eyelids swabbed out. Now, that was a treat, second only to the nasal swabbing for H1N1. Talk about pleasant memories that will go down in the memories of time. The dilation of my eyes hampered my abilities for the rest of the night. We walk this life assuming that we’ll always be able to do just that, walk, talk, see, hear, think, smell, and feel. So much we take for granted. Many of us are much more sensitive than others, being made aware of the reality of life by fearing for our loved ones fighting in foreign wars, praying at bedsides, watching loved ones suffer in illness

My father was a lot of things, two of which were that of being both a proud man and a humble man. He told me one time, “Judge a man by his actions, not the color of his skin”. Being that my father was a man of color, I took his words too heart, as the color of skin he referred to was also the lighter whiter skinned race, not just the darker pigmented skins of what most people look at as color. In his wisdom, I have always attempted to draw conclusion based in actions versus words and emotions. Some would call me cold or critical, and others might use discerning (and I’m sure many other words as well). My father showed me by his example when to be proud and when to be humble, when to accept and when to deny, when to welcome praise and when to redirect it to its rightful owner. It is my opinion that most of us desire recognition and praise, to have our value and esteem recognized, to be appreciated, affirmed, and loved. It is human nature and there are truly very few of us who choose t

There is an old Lakota story (some from my memory and some of my mind) of an elder who is communing with his brothers and sisters of the forests, gaining wisdom from the trees, rocks, living beings, and earth, sharing solitude with his relations. As he is making his way around a mountain through the woods, he comes to a clearing that lies just before where the mountain begins its incline towards the blue skies and white clouds. A young man is seated on the ground, at the trees edge, looking into the woods. As the elder approaches, the young man looks at him, asking, “Grandfather, I am in search of the meaning of life, can you tell me what it is?” The elder looks at the young man and reply’s, “My son, watch the earth worms, the winged and four legged ones, they will show you”, and the elder skillfully climbs up the mountain. Two days later, the elder is again making his walk around and up the mountain. Sitting in the clearing, is again the young man. The elder approaches, asking, “My

I'm not much of a label person, and maybe you're not either, but have you noticed while shopping the people looking at labels on food and products. And what about all those warning labels, stating this product can cause cancer, this one tooth decay, that one heart disease, and so forth. It is my impression that labels are out there to make our life easier, to make choices easier, and to guide us as we make decisions that are in our best interest and best for our health. In many areas, labels serve a purpose, and in other areas, they really don't. I've come to the conclusion that many times labels just state the obvious. Labels like, "smoking causes cancer", or "sweets cause tooth decay", or "alcohol may cause birth defects", just state the obvious; pretty common sense stuff. Sure, there are many labels that are helpful, especially for those of us who are counting calories, limiting sodium and cholesterol, or watching our fat intake. Other

I know for most of us, the stress related to travel, whether it’s a day trip, a short trip, or a long trip, is often the process of getting ready. And if you’re anything like me, the emotional aspect related to all can be the worse part of getting ready. These days, with all the map services, creating a route can be fast and simple. We get all ready that needs to be ready, pack up the car, van, or truck, make sure the kids are in the car, along with their needed distractions and keeping busy things, and hit the road. We drive, loosen up, become content, and drive. This morning, as I was doing the car pool duties of being a child transport technician, I entered a very dark and thick patch of fog, making visibility about 1-2 car lengths ahead of me. The darkening affect of the fog appeared unnoticed by my passengers as they continued to prepare for an upcoming quiz or attempted to complete a Rubik’s cube. Funny how children often don’t become caught up in the fog of life, just automati

I'm usually not much prone to escape in life, giving up most of my vices years ago (keeping my coffee though). As I was putting my little one to bed tonight, it occurred to me that I do still escape in life. My little one has grown fond of an old song, "Octopus's Garden". If you're familiar with lyrics of the Beatles tune, you know it's about escaping to an octopus's garden, acceptance, not being found, happy and safe, in an octopus's garden, in the shade. Silly song and a song of my youth when life appeared simple. Oh, to escape to the days of old. Dreams were in abundance. Play was the focus of the day. Your biggest worry was trying to get your parents to allow you a few extra minutes of play, to stay up a little longer, or getting that newest toy. Almost everything was an adventure, not a burden of today. Dreams filled the skies where ever one traveled. And as we both know, the memories of youth can be very selective. Many of us have memories of

I was given a day by day calendar last Christmas by my nephew. This calendar has faulty translations, ignorant quotes, and other quotes that can be described as nothing less than just plain stupid. An example from a newspaper headline stated, “Dumped Fish Remains Upset”, or a statement from an insurance company, “I was on my way to the doctor with rear end trouble and my universal joint gave way, causing me to have an accident”, or a statement from a truck leasing company, “You asked for trucks and we complied with our contract, and it is immaterial whether the trucks were operational or not”. Isn’t communication great, not to mention tricky, or confusing, or anything other than easy. Communication becomes hindered due to personal interpretation, the emotional filtering and coloring of the hearer, external environmental noises, not to mention the noises in the skulls of those communicating. Oh and what about perceptions and our experiences, how they both interfere with the meaning of