Walking The Journey

I’ve always been a firm believer of letting go of the past so that I can live in the present and positively impact and influence my future. At the same time, I’m a lover of history. I’m fascinated not in the facts and accounts of history as much as I’m fascinated in the human condition of history, good and bad, heroic and cowardly, righteous and evil. History is a rich mixture of who we are, where we came from, the errors of those who’ve walked before us, a recipe for success, and a road map of wisdom of what to avoid. When I think of history, both long ago and more recent, such names as Ronald Regan, Winston Churchill, Adolph Hitler, Gandhi, Alexander the Great, George (W and H) Bush, Al Capone, Billy Graham, John Lennon, Johnny Cash, George Patton, Carl Jung, and of course Janis Joplin, come to mind. Literally hundreds of names flood my mind when I think of history and even though I never knew any of these people, mentioned or floating in my brain, they have impacted my life, influe

A man walked among the living wondering why he wasn’t living, where life got lost for him. He looked into the faces of the people he passed on the streets he walked in his life. He thought to himself that surely in one of these faces he would find the look that he seemed to have lost so long ago. His life seemed to be about making it through the day of his existence so that he could sleep at its end and begin the same day again yet on a different day. In his hopelessness, he didn’t realize that what he was looking for was just that, hope. The man looked for the why of his lack of joy and hope and never realized that in the search of the why he remained entrenched in the mire of the problems that continue to rob him and strip him naked in the pits of despair. Somewhere on the streets of his life he bought the lie that life is a problem and his goal is to continue to suffer in the birthing pains of life that it brings forth in our journey. He has forgotten that hope, love, and joy are

It’s funny how dogs can teach us how to be human. My little dog Charlie, who died last summer, was the best dog who ever called me friend. From the time she was a puppy, she had a need to be by our side. She enjoyed lying on the couch or bed, when we let her, body to body with her family. We were her pack and I believe in her mind, we were to always belong together. I miss my little Charlie and all the joy she brought to my family. Charlie understood what we humans are so soon to forget, that we belong in a pack. Charlie found her place and claimed us as her pack. We were not so much individuals to her as we were a family. Individuality is a wonderful thing, and as a somewhat reserved and solitude type of guy, I appreciate my individuality. At the same time, we were created, on the whole, to be social creatures, social in marriage, in family, extended and immediate, in work, and in our communities, again, both immediate and extended or global. As our culture has shifted from group i