The edges seem small...

“The death rate for people who play it safe and

for those who live boldly is the same.”

- Patti Digh: Life is a Verb

“Just a note.” She said,  “If we have an earthquake you can exit the room on either side and go down the stairs.”

 “Just head outside and we will gather in the car park,” she continued.

The rest of her ‘housekeeping’ instructions indicated to the attendees when the breaks would be, where the bathrooms were and a little more about the events that were coming in the day.  Just par for the course in a country that experiences nearly 20,000 measureable earthquakes per year. 

It was Saturday morning in Wellington, New Zealand (Friday afternoon in my home state of Arizona), I was sitting in a small regional spine meeting, and as the morning unfolded, reminded how similarly spinal conditions are treated all over the world.

The “Just a note…” comment also made me think of how the unexpected can so quickly take everything away.  As I looked around the room situated on the third floor of the building, I briefly wondered if a really big one came, whether her instructions would make any difference…if a really big one hit, this building sitting on slopes of a hillside on edges of Wellington harbor…well, I suspected it would be gone.

It was almost as if, that by getting safety instructions, we were given a sense of security...if things quickly went badly, we would have at the very least a strategy for survival…a talisman against impending danger.

I filed her comments away, grabbed a cup of coffee and settled in for the conference.

For some, these kinds of instructions produce the opposite effect. 

“If she had not brought up the possibility of a dangerous event, I would not have thought about it.  Now that I’m thinking about it, I’m freaking out!”

Playing ‘not to lose’ is a difficult and paralyzing way to engage the game of life - always fearing the worst when considering what may or may not lie ahead.  Ancient sailors, when reaching the edges of the known world, would say concerning unknown dangers beyond the reaches of their understanding, “…here be dragons…”

Over the next few days, I will carry on my life with a hearty people, pretending there be no dragons in the compartmentalized world within my mind, as though I am not in an insanely dangerous city, having come here by an insanely dangerous method of travel, in an insanely dangerous world. 

So the day will come and with the smallest of garment of safety instructions, as if knowing where the ‘emergency exits and bathrooms’ are, will be enough.  The amazing thing is that, so far, it seems to have been enough.

Now if I can just find that cup of coffee…

- ted

Whose in charge here?

“If you don’t like something, change it.

If you can’t change it, change your attitude.”

- Maya Angelou

“If you do not change direction, you

may end up where you are going.”

- Lao Tzu

There is a lot going on in this world, both at home and abroad.  It seems that our sensibilities become so overwhelmed, as our minds move from event to event, that it is hard to keep things in order. Okay, maybe not ‘us,’ but certainly me.

A few bullet points garnered from the week:

- Horrific killing of an American journalist.

- Death and destruction in the Middle East.

- Unnecessary loss of life in the Ukraine.

- War, murder and wanton disregard for humanity in an area of the world where science, the arts and mathematics was once the greatest in human history (Syria/Iraq).

- Serious unrest in American cities as many question justice and fair play.

- Failure of our government to make, what appear to be, the smallest decisions.

- Wanton concentration of wealth and weakening of the middle classes.

That’s just a touch of the ongoing planetary struggle.

How does one sort any of this out? 

The cognitive dissonance for me comes from the realization that life has probably always been this way; just without the 24-hour news cycle that has commoditized information distribution, so agenda driven that it defies rational thought.  

Odysseus plugged the ears of his ship’s crew with wax and had them tie him to the mast of his ship, so that when Sirens promised knowledge and wisdom, he could hear, but not fall victim to their seductive lies.  They said:

“Once he hears to his heart's content, sails on, a wiser man.

We know all the pains that the Greeks and Trojans once endured
on the spreading plain of Troy when the gods willed it so—

all that comes to pass on the fertile earth, we know it all!”

-       Homer: The Odyssey

In the epic poem, sailors that listened never escaped and were destroyed. 

The book of Genesis tells the same morality tale.  Don’t eat the fruit of the tree of knowledge of good and evil…”…for in the day that thou eatest thereof thou shalt surely die.”  The serpent, the ‘Siren’ of the Old Testament said, “…Ye shall not surely die: For God doth know that in the day ye eat thereof, your eyes shall be opened, and yea shall be as gods…”

In this story, eating of the ‘fruit’ led to man’s separation from God and a life of unrest and turmoil until as a race…the human race, was able to understand there might be a better way…that we might transcend the cycle of destruction and misery from which there seemed no escape.

Maybe as these stories reflect, it is better not to hear and therefore not respond…maybe if we did NOT listen to things over which we have no control…maybe if we understood ‘we’ are the ones who determine our own reactions, the quality of our lives would be better.

It’s hard to comprehend…

One would think with the capacity and ingenuity of the human mind we would understand the futility of repeating destructive behavior again and again and again.  

We pride ourselves on being able to adapt, and there is little doubt we have adapted and found ways to survive in some of the most hostile environments…and yet, here we are killing one another with words, and guns and swords and knives so that we can show…show what?  That we are right?  That we are better?  That we are smarter?  The momentary high of exerting power gives way to an emptiness and void, leading once again to the insidious need for the next ‘fix.’

This sounds like a litany of woe and despair.  In fact it is anything but…at least for me. 

I cannot change things that are toxic and a pox on mankind…BUT I can choose…choose to not put things in my mind that ricochet around and around leading to resentment and distrust.  I can choose to interact in positive ways with as many people as possible.

Odysseus might have been right…

Maybe we might need to lash ourselves to the mast of positive words, and behavior, and habit and character that keep us from acting on the siren sounds that surround us with such unrelenting constancy that we think of it as normal.  Maybe it is a matter of hanging on with all our might to the things that we know make us feel consistently better, and consciously act on them

None of us can change the things that demean life and brutalize sensibilities, but we can determine the way we choose to interact with the things that present themselves to us, in whatever form.

All the self help books, the spiritual gurus, the ancient spiritual writings tell us to focus on ourselves and our lives will be better.  They always seem to make so much sense when we read them, but for some reason, we so often do not put the ideas into practice.  I suppose when one looks away from the mirror, they forget what they look like, and when these teachings are set aside and we face the day, they seem to be forgotten.

Change, of course can only come by consistent choice, in spite of the torrent of noxious material that comes our way on a daily basis.  We are the only ones who can make a difference in our lives. 

Better life?  Better choices!  This does sound a bit naïve, over simplified and Pollyannaish.   When you are young, I suppose they are.  When you are older, on the other hand, and say them from the lifetime experience of ‘what works’ and ‘what does not,’ they are anything but clichés wrapped in Kumbaya moments with soft sounding phrases that ask, “…why can’t we just get along?”

They are simply pragmatic…

- ted

It is seldom luck...

“Indifference and neglect often do much more damage than outright dislike.”

- J.K. Rowling: Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix

The fellow looked to be in his late 60s.  He stood about 5’10” (1.78m), somewhere in the neighborhood of 230 pounds (104kg), round in figure, unshaven for at least a couple of days, and had missed several belt loops with the belt around the waist of his trousers.  The missed ‘loops’ caused his pants to sag a little low on his left hip, exposing the tops of his underwear, and when he bent over, a fair amount of the pale whitish skin of his left flank…not a pretty sight.

The woman, apparently his wife, appeared to be about 5’5” (1.65m) with three to four inch brownish/auburn dyed hair, encircled with an ‘out of place’ orange hair band.  Her dress was ill fitting and she wore a car coat, passing her broad hips to about mid-thigh.  In addition to her unkempt appearance, she looked agitated and ill tempered, which became abundantly evident as the next few minutes unfolded.

The hard-shell bag they had taken to the check in counter was overweight, whereby airline agent told them it would need to be 10 pounds (4.5 kg) lighter or incur a hefty additional charge.  I have seen this a number of times before, and often, people take their bags somewhere away from the counter to reorganize and redistribute their things to other bags.  This was NOT the case on this day!

Rather than losing their place behind the other people waiting to check in, they…rather she…decided to redistribute things from the bigger bag to two other, by now open, carry-on bags lying open on the floor in front of the check-in counter.

As everything lay open, it was clear the packing had not been particularly thoughtful.  Sparing the detail, the big suitcase rather looked like a tangled pile of clothing and personal items tossed in at random without forethought.

The next few minutes, as I waited in my (different) line was one of the more interesting ‘theater of the absurd’ events I have experienced in a public setting.

The woman began by berating the man for having not paid closer attention when she was packing at home – clearly his fault!  Oblivious to the strangers standing around watching, she pulled a number of items out of the bigger bag, giving them to her husband to repack in the smaller carry-on luggage.  The man seemed completely befuddled as to how repack, causing the tone of her language to escalate in volume and harshness…I mean, how worthless could one man be!

Two of the more notable things she took out of the larger bag were a package of adult diapers, which she opened and stuffed down the front of her husband’s shirt, and a pair of toe-splitter sandals with rhinestones embedded foot straps, that she put in his trouser pockets, loudly warning him to leave them right where she put them. 

Because his shirt was not tucked in, the diapers fell straight to the floor.  As he bent down to pick them up, she struck him and said his shirt should have been tucked in his pants in the first place!

With the help of a compassionate – AND BRAVE – onlooker, the two carry-on bags were zipped up and the larger one taken back to the weigh station.  It was still two pounds over the limit! 

In the brief moments that followed, the airline representative appeared to weigh her options.  After some brief thought and a furtive glance or two at the growing number of other people in the line, she made an executive decision and accepted the bag with no extra charge.

The wife looked like she had won the lottery, slapped her husband on the shoulder and told him to get moving to the gate.  He lumbered after her toward security, adjusting his now expanded tummy (the diapers under his shirt), looking for like a wet puppy with its tail between its legs. 

If this had been a situation comedy on television, it would have been pretty comical.  Of course, it was not and like most real life situations, was not the least bit funny.

A moment to catch my breath…

As I watched this couple trot off, I wondered how it had come to this.  Of course, I knew nothing about them, but I couldn’t help but wonder what it had been like when they first met, fell in love and decided to make a life together. How did the warmth of romance and maturing love turn so cold, dark and lifeless?

It was pure projection on my part, but over the years I have seen many less dramatic examples when older couples bicker and fight so much in their personal lives that it becomes part of the identity of who they are.  After a time, it doesn’t matter whether they are in public or in private, the interaction becomes habitual and the “…what is…” of their relationship.  Maybe it starts with taking things for granted and gradually drifts away from there…I really don’t know.

This event was sandwiched between two relationships pertinent to two other couples, one of which I know intimately and the other I am learning to know better.  One engaged in decades of marriage…the other just starting out. 

The ‘long in the tooth’ couple would be Molly and me.  In the middle of our third decade together, we seem to have found a rhythm, pace and respectful balance of a nicely working endurance run.  While quite different in many ways, the deliberately active cultivation of our relationship has not just worked, but grown.

The flight brought me to San Antonio, where the other couple lives.  They would be the newly married Mariah (my niece) and Dan Robertson.  They are just beginning the journey together, and are also quite different in many ways.  What is not different, however, is the consideration they have for one another and the obviously deliberate planting and cultivation of the newly tilled, ‘collective garden’ of their lives.

“Deliberate” is the key word here.  Like anything else in life, we find ourselves exactly where our choices have put us.  Love doesn’t grow cold by accident, nor does it mature and remain strong by chance.  Anything that grows and remains sturdy…anything…requires the careful paying of attention.

As I watched the couple head off to security, I was certain the scene played out for all to see was only a tip of an iceberg of discontent within their relationship.  At the same time I was grateful for the woman I would be leaving for the weekend and to whom I would return, as well as the young couple with whom I would be spending my time away from home. 

Gratitude would be too inadequate a word…

- ted

First it was dark...

When you arise in the morning, think of what a precious

privilege it is to be alive – to breath, to think…

- Marcus Aurelius, Meditations

Molly said, “Before you get started this morning, come out here and look at the moon.  It’s humongous!"

She was right, for this is the season of the super moon...the time when it is the largest it will be in the sky all year.  While it is, no doubt impressive at night, it is equally so in the early morning hours.  The ‘show’ is a little more dramatic this time of year, because the elliptical motion of the moon brings it closer to the earth, making it by some estimates 14 percent brighter.  That may not exactly be ‘super,’ but if you take the time to look at it – it is beautiful!

Any morning – any day…

There is something about the morning sky, as the rhythm of the earth begins to shift in the early hours of the day.  Watching the darkened sky making transition to light brings a sense of renewal, rebirth, revelation of that which has been in darkness finding its way into light.  One has a greater appreciation for the richly poetic language of the opening chapter of the Bible (Genesis 1:2-5):

“And the earth was without form, and void; and darkness was upon the face of the deep.  And the Spirit of God moved upon the face of the waters. And God said, Let there be light and there was light.  And God saw the light, that it was good: and God divided the light from the darkness.  And God called the light Day, and the darkness he called night.  And the evening and the morning were the first day.”

“…the evening and the morning were the first day.”  This is the language that follows the creative process of each day in this seminal chapter of the first book of the Judeo-Christian spiritual text.  It is always the evening first, suggesting that darkness precedes light…or one might argue as a metaphor for our lives, we begin all things ‘in darkness,’ and become ‘enlightened’ as we encounter and process the ‘new’ or unknown.

A little less – possibly more whimsy…

Our little home in Oro Valley faces west.  This means, the cactus filled back yard faces east providing, as the sun trudges unrelentingly toward us in the early morning hours, subtle shifting from darkness to light.

Being outside while it is dark kindles a quietly energetic anticipation as the surrounding hills become alive “…with the [sights and] sound(s) of music…” Sitting on the patio, in the early hours when there has been no moon…when there appears to be nothing but a void, brings revelation as morning magic reveals the unseen.

As old Sol pushes the darkness away, the distant peaks, of the Catalina Mountains become framed on the Eastern horizon.  Slowly, the back yard presents itself alive as the Yuccas, Barrel Cacti, Texas Ranger, Mexican Bird of Paradise and miniature grapefruit trees begin to appear…at first grey and shapeless forms looking for all the world like ghostly apparitions in the dreamy landscape.  It isn’t long, however, before they take shape…crisp and colorful images in their now brightly lit glory.

I never tire of experiencing the unrelenting cycle of the earth’s movement around the sun, and the cycle of light that begins in darkness. 

There is something self-renewing about meeting the day as it gets itself ready.  It is nice to feel that while I am shaking off the cobwebs of a good night’s sleep, the earth is doing the same.  As I become more fully awake, with a cup of Molly’s strong coffee, I feel as though I am part of the same cycle of renewal as that of the earth, and in some ways, not fully grasped…the rhythmic of replenishment of the universe.

- ted