Not Hitting the Tree

I can still remember the day I learned to ride a bicycle. I was rather old for the task, somewhere in my tenth year, but the bike was a large one, and the only one in our family at the time; plus I had five older siblings who were riding it before me. When I finally got my chance and a teacher, (my oldest brother consented to teach me), I climbed aboard the vehicle and began my adventure. 

Slowly at first, then peddling faster and faster, with my brother beside me holding me upright, I began to pick up speed and find my balance. Before I knew it, he had let go and I was riding on my own. “Just like that!” I thought. It seemed easier than I had expected. A block away, I deftly turned a corner, confident in my new-found skill, feeling the wind blow through my hair and the exhilaration of speed and success. 

The little one-horse town I grew up in, was so small that we had no paved roads. There were perhaps four full blocks in the town with somewhere between one and six houses in each block. We had a post office, a bar, a gas station with a mechanic, the elevators, a fire station, a church and a school. In other years there had also been a restaurant and grocery store but these had both been abandoned over the years as people had moved away. However, in my childhood there was one landmark in that little town which stood out above all the rest. It was the Money Tree. It was a Cottonwood tree as tall as a three story house, and nearly as broad, with leaves the size of a sheet of paper and when the wind blew, as it seemed to do all the time in North Dakota, the leaves made a wonderful, powerful sound that filled the air. 

As I turned the corner, heading down hill with my bike, proud of my new skill and ability, I was thinking of the money tree. It's sound was filling the air and suddenly I realized, it's trunk was also filling the road! Apparently, when the town was built, the tree had been right where the road needed to be, but rather than cut it down, which in those days would have been more trouble than a little town would want to deal with, they simply put the road around it—on both sides—and on a corner with only one way to turn. In other words, the tree ran down the middle of the road and I was heading right for it, down hill at ever-increasing speeds.

Even at that age, my mind was making all sorts of physics calculations about hitting tree trunks at high speeds, hitting gravel at high speeds, careening off the road at high speeds, etc. Panic filled my mind with these brief but harrowing thoughts and I instinctively cried out for help. I knew that somehow I needed to stop, but my brother had failed to instruct me in the finer points of this exercise and I was stranded on the bicycle, going down hill, headed straight for a very large tree on a gravelly corner with nowhere to go but into the tree, off the road and into the railroad tracks, or around the slippery gravel road on a sharp corner. My brief experience had taught me that I was simply not qualified to do any of these things without facing severe injury, at least! 

When I called for help to stop the fast-moving death machine I was riding, my brother had called out, “Step on the brakes!” I'm sure he thought this would be sufficient instruction in my predicament, however, he had failed to teach me where the brakes resided and how to 'step' on them. To save time, I simply yelled, “How?” To which he quickly responded, as he ran down the hill after me, “Pedal backwards!” This counter intuitive instruction was not questioned by my child-like mind. I simply did what he said which caused me to veer sharply to one side and I slid sideways to the ground. The disaster averted, (though I was somewhat bruised and scratched), I got up, smiling and grateful for another chance to live and perhaps ride the bike again. 

 

Often, in my life today, I find myself going down a hill, faster than I would like, headed for a tree that I cannot seem to avoid. Often I call out for help. Still more often, a response comes that seems counter intuitive, like for instance, “Love your enemy”. I do it anyway. And today, after being saved from one disaster after another, I'm again grateful for one more day to live and ride a bike.

The Art of Making Dinner

On any given day there is one thing I do which is at once the most challenging and the most rewarding. It is the thing that makes motherhood difficult for some and impossible for others. It taxes the inner strength of anyone who confronts this challenge and it gives back more than ample payment for the effort. It is so frightening to some people that they would rather suffer almost any inconvenience instead of confronting it. I'm talking about the monster (I mean the art) of making dinner.

On the surface, making dinner doesn't sound like much, but to anyone who has had to do it on anything like a regular basis, it can present an almost insurmountable obstacle to peace and happiness. In my experience, the routine goes something like this: Four o'clock rolls around and my stomach starts telling me it's time to get something going. I look around for ingredients and find that there is little or nothing of use to me. I have some basic things but nothing special. I start thinking of all the things we have had that week and what we might have, that won't sound like 'the same old thing'. Suddenly, five o'clock arrives and I still don't have a plan. No new ingredients have shown up, the clock seems to be ticking loudly now and panic sets in. “What are we going to have for dinner?” I shout to no one in particular (for some reason, saying this loudly makes me feel marginally better). Then I start to get serious. I know that at least six people are going to show up in my kitchen in the next half hour and wonder what I am making that might possibly satisfy the hunger that has been building in them over the entire afternoon of work or play. At this point, I frantically rack my brain for ideas, wondering how I'm going to pull a rabbit out of my hat this time. I try to sit calmly in a chair, cook book in hand, and meditate on the myriad possibilities. Some of us like one thing, some like another; some will eat certain greens, other won't touch them; some like it hot, some like it cold; but none of them like it in the pot nine days old. Panic turns to desperation when I start reciting nursery rhymes! My next impulse is to curl up into fetal position and cry like a baby. Then, in a moment of clarity and as if by magic, an idea drops out of the air. The room seems to light up as I realize that this idea will save the day since I happen to have all the ingredients I need. It will also satisfy even the picky eaters and it doesn't take all night to make! Then, I make dinner (whew!).

If this sounds familiar to you, you know what I mean when I say that cooking dinner is perhaps the hardest part of parenthood. After about ten years of this I began to wonder why this should be and have finally come to the conclusion that it is because making dinner is (or should be) an act of creativity. This sounds simple enough, but understand, we live in a world where creativity is dying all around us. I have lamented for a long time that in the movie industry (or any industry) it is extremely rare to see an original creative idea. This is the age of the re-make. For instance, how many Star Trek movies are they going to make, anyway? In a world of instant food, instant gratification, instant music, instant entertainment, instant technology and even instant relationships, is it any wonder that the act of creativity, which requires thought, effort, time and a degree of inspiration, is falling by the wayside?

Creativity rewards the diligent with the fruits of satisfaction with one's self and contentment with life; or you might say, self-esteem and happiness. Nothing is free. You get what you pay for. If you want internal, mental, emotional rewards you have to invest internal, mental and emotional energy. Today it has become all too easy to buy everything. So, instead of making dinner, we buy pre-packaged, processed, prepared foods: no thought, effort or creativity required. It sounds easy, but the catch is, if you put nothing in, you get nothing out. There are no emotional rewards for a quick fix. When I do dinner or art or life with thought, diligence and creativity I am amply rewarded for my effort. When I don't, there is no amount of aspirin that can make up for how bad I feel.

Where Is Love?

In that wonderful musical, Fiddler on the Roof by Joseph Stein, Tevye, in what proves to be a life-altering moment, asks of his wife, “Do you love me?” To which she replies with a list of the many things she has done for him and with him over the twenty-five years of their marriage. Finally, after listing all of those things she has done, she concludes that yes, she supposes that she does indeed love him, since she can think of nothing else it could be.

A few years ago, I would have said that people's use of the word love was becoming more widespread, and that people were using it over-much and making light of it; using it to describe anything and everything remotely connected with any kind of human relationship or attraction. Now, I think, I would have to say that there seems to be a relative decline in the use of that word. But whatever the popular usage, it is clear that as living creatures in a living world, we know less of love than we do of, say, gasoline prices or world events.

Having been both a child and a parent, I have seen human relationships from many angles and have used and seen the word 'love' used in numerous settings from the profane to the profound. I've seen it thrown at people in fits of anger, seen it gently fall from the lips of newlyweds, watched it caress the brow of a tiny child and been held by it in the heart of another. The word seems to mean so many different things in so many different situations that to capture it in one succinct definition becomes a nearly impossible task.

Most people, I believe, would define love as something you 'show' to someone. Like Tevye's wife who listed the cooking, cleaning and bearing children which she had performed in behalf of her husband. This, to her, was the meaning of love. In other words, she showed her love by the things she did. I have been in many church classrooms where we were asked how we could 'show' our love, and the answers always tended in the same direction as Tevye's wife: helping, kind words, thoughtful deeds, etc. This, I suppose, is the evidence we might present in order to prove that we love someone. Unfortunately, it is only circumstantial evidence and not always conclusive.

There are some who, in an attempt to 'prove' their love, offer such deeds as proof and then, demand acknowledgment and reciprocation. As if to say, “Look what I have done for you because I love you. Now, I deserve something in return.” Parents sometimes treat their children in this way, expecting the same kind of 'love' they have been giving.

In the well-known scriptural definition of Love, it describes more of what love is not, than of what it is, as in: not envious, not puffed up, not seeking her own, not easily provoked. Thus I have asked myself: Is love the good deeds we do, or the evil ones we do not do, or is it something else entirely? Love certainly has degrees of intensity and strength, but for my understanding, I wished to know the highest and best meaning, having already seen much of what I would consider the least and lowest forms of what has been or might be called love.

In the words of Oliver from the musical of the same name by Lionel Bart, based on the book, Oliver Twist by Charles Dickens, “Where is love?” Many times I have asked myself this question and as many times, have come to the conclusions above.

Then, unexpectedly, love came, a gift, unannounced, and smiled upon me, embraced me from the inside out, healed my wounded soul and lifted me up. Without words, I learned instantly that Love is real, but not really the things we do. Love is alive, but we must allow it and believe it in order to feel it. Love sings, but not with the voice. Love heals, but more with the heart than with the hands. And, shining through the universe from the brightest, star to the tiniest particle of microscopic matter is Love: iridescent, fine, endless, true, astonishingly beautiful and magnificent.

Worth It

There is something about the living, growing things of this world and about participating in that growth that gives me a kind of unexpected pleasure and joy to my soul as to be akin to food for my body. When I have planted a seed, watered it, weeded it and waited for it to grow, it somehow fills me with wonder, satisfaction, and joy inexplicable to see it push its way miraculously above the ground and grow. Then, as I continue to nourish, tend and water the growing things, they respond by giving out foliage and fruit in abundance. And, although I did not create the DNA within the seed, still, without me, the plant would surely die.

Living in a desert, as we do, one quickly learns that if you want something more than sagebrush and cactus, you simply must provide water. The awesome power of the canal system which brings water to thousands of fields is truly life-giving and without it, half of the State of Idaho would be barren, both of plants and people. In realizing the importance of water to my garden or lawn, I couldn't help but see the similarity between plants and people.

Some people have called this world a lonely wilderness, where the things one truly needs are as scarce as water in a desert. People search for health, happiness and loving relationships their entire lives and often end up disappointed. Families can be a source of all of those things, or they can be a source of the opposite. Unfortunately, people seem to be less and less knowledgeable and capable of providing the kind of home where the cravings of the heart, mind and soul are satisfied.

Since before I was married I was gardening, but it was only recently that I began to do more than just the cursory tilling, planting, sporadic watering and occasional weeding. The fact that I was growing a family was my excuse for not being more diligent in my gardening. But, now that I no longer have small children to keep track of, my eyes and hands are freed somewhat to care for my garden. Thus, I began to discover things about gardening that surprised and amazed me. I have had numerous failures where gardening is concerned and they always made me feel as though I were just not quite good enough, or green enough or something. When I began to garden in earnest, I discovered that a good watering system could hide a multitude of sins, so to speak. I also learned that if I went out every day and looked at my garden, I didn't have to have a degree in gardening, to know pretty much what my plants needed. When I did those two things, I was amazed to find that my garden responded with such abundance and beauty, that I could hardly believe my eyes! The difference between my other gardens and the one I had been with day by day, was phenomenal. Joy and happiness were my first and most rewarding harvests. After that came the vegetables and fruit. They were strong, healthy and beautiful. They simply eclipsed anything I could purchase at the store and when I partook of their nourishment, I could feel the difference in every way. Wow, I thought. All that from just being there every day.

When I had started my new garden, I made a promise to the garden and to myself, that I would be there for the garden, every day when possible. I kept that promise and was abundantly blessed. Interestingly enough, when I started my family, I made the same commitment to them. Families are like gardens; they grow best when consistently watered and looked after. This world can be a real desert, where love, happiness and joy are rare and precious gifts. Parents can be like an aquifer in the desert, giving children the love and support they need in order to grow and flourish. You don't have to have a degree in child psychology. It only takes love and commitment. Having made that commitment and shared the love I felt, I have tasted of the fruits of my labor and can honestly say it is not only worth the effort, but its the best thing I have ever tasted.

I Love Spring

Spring, for some strange reason, always brings out the de-clutterer in me. Both inside and outside our home will find me ruthlessly de-junking in the spring. From dead wood to dead coats, there is something about the spring that makes me long for that clean fresh feeling of spring to find it's way into even the darkest closets, the furthest reaches of the yard and the deepest recesses of my mind.

Nine years ago, when we moved here from our home in Utah, I spent an entire year casting off ten years of accumulation and clutter. It was a great feeling to remove things that we were not using or that had outlived their usefulness and yet, when we finally moved it still felt like we had more stuff than we needed. This spring, as I look around, it seems that way again. Modern living is generally cluttered living. This is partly due, I believe, to the poor quality of goods made readily available in every store. It is easy to buy something cheap these days and difficult to get rid of things that don't work or you don't really need. 

Cluttered living is habit forming, I think. Once you have acquired something, it sort of takes hold of you and it can be extremely difficult to let go of it, no matter how inconvenient it might become. If the clutter happens to be a gift, then its hold is even more tenacious and getting rid of it can be almost impossible. I once read that clutter, (loosely defined as things in your life that have not been used in the last year or things that have outlived their usefulness), is not just a benign pile of stuff but in fact it can become a serious drain on your life's energy. Every time you look at a pile of 'stuff' that is not being used but is taking up space, your mind tries to work on that pile. Maybe you think about what should be done with it, why you haven't done it, reasons why you might want to keep it, where you might put it instead, etc. Negative energy was what it was called. The clutter sucks energy from your life by sitting there waiting for a solution. I have seen homes where the clutter has literally taken over the life of the house. Used and useful articles are relegated to tiny slices of space that have to be wrested away from the grasp of the clutter. Like a monster parasite taking over it's host, these homes are unlivable, to say nothing of the people who live with it. 

On the other hand, I have noticed with children as well as myself, that whenever a room has been cleaned, we invariably are drawn to that room and begin creating something, playing something or working on something in it. The room acts like a magnet for creativity and finds immediate use. Laughter, joy and creative energy fairly bubble out of the room, making it and everyone involved in it feel more alive. 

Clutter is not merely a question of things but also of people and feelings. For instance, people can carry mountains of emotional clutter around with them. Grudges, past hurts, failures, wrongs, grievances, illnesses and troubles can be carried into every conversation and every relationship. The more you carry with you, the more difficult it is for any useful or happy interaction to occur. The emotional clutter brings with it the addiction of self-pity and the loss of hope. Creativity becomes something to regret instead of something to reach for. Other people succeed, other people are happy, other people are healthy, but the cluttered person is held captive by his clutter.

Spring makes me feel like letting go. It makes me want to remove both physical and emotional clutter. As I stood in my yard this week and watched while a pile of dead branches burn, I felt strangely liberated. I watched the wood turn to ash and smoke and literally to disappear and it seemed like magic! My yard had been cluttered with these branches for many months. Now they were gone and it felt so much like freedom that I wanted to sing! At the same time, because it felt like the right thing to do, I mentally dropped some emotional clutter into that fire and watched it go up in smoke. It felt so good that I spent the rest of the day looking for more things to burn. I do love spring.

A Few Good Things

Sometimes it seems like the world is going to h--- in a hand basket, but today I want to think about some of the things that are right with the world. There is a philosophy that says: whatever you focus on is what you will get more of. Right now I would like more of a few things that I find particularly good and wonderful.

One thing that really makes me happy and that I would like to see more of is this idea of 'inalienable rights'. I love the concept that there are rights which I possess which were not given to me by any human, group or earthly entity. These rights are mine because I am alive and they cannot be given or taken; they just 'are'. This idea implies a great deal about my origin and destiny which might be difficult to explain or discuss in certain public places, but they are mine just the same and I will not be denied those rights if I can help it. Never mind that there are whole political parties dedicated to the removal of some or all those rights. I don't care. Maybe it's time those rights were threatened. People are altogether too complacent about rights, responsibilities and freedom these days and if the loss of their freedom makes them aware of their inalienable rights to the extent that they then begin to understand and defend them in a meaningful way, then so be it. 

Speaking of freedom, this beautiful land in which we live is a veritable treasure-trove of wonder and magnificent scenery. You can cross Idaho at it's most insipid and tame places and you cannot help but be in awe of the power and majesty of this truly inspiring creation. Everywhere you go in this country there are vast areas of sweeping glorious beauty to take your breath away. I am always filled with gratitude when I see a picturesque landscape or a rushing river or an approaching storm or a fiery sunset. How can one ignore the grandeur all around us and forget that nothing good happens by accident but must be done deliberately. It would be like a rich man planning a lovely party for his daughter, with gifts and guests, ponies and party favors, music and magic and the daughter afterward saying to her friend, “Isn't it wonderful that all these great things just happened to get here by accident, on my birthday?” The party we have been enjoying is significantly more complex and extraordinary than the one in my example and still there are those who, in their colossal ignorance have the effrontery to say that it 'just happened' to land here for their personal enjoyment and nothing more. 

Since I'm talking about things that make me happy, it would be wrong to leave out the people in my life who play parts in the drama of life. When I was younger, I watched some soap operas since it could not be avoided (my boss where I worked was addicted to them and had to have them on all the time). One thing I learned from that experience was that real people were much more interesting, fun, challenging, entertaining, helpful, beautiful or anything than a fake person on television. Children today have been led down a dark path of 'avatar' living, where they only live a surrogate life while their real life goes un-lived. From soap operas to video games to cult-movies to cyber-relationships, people are doing less and less real living and more and more pretend living. But honestly, there is no comparison. However, when real people only hurt us, let us down, use us or disappoint us, well... that's too bad. There is nothing in this world to compare with a family that works. I know because I have one. I have worked at it for my entire life and it works great. It is the greatest thing I have. It is the greatest thing I will ever have. It is the only thing worth living for and one of the few things worth dying for. Giving it up, taking it for granted, losing it, abusing it, shirking it or ignoring it are the worst things you can ever do to yourself. I wouldn't recommend it.

Mostly Dead

What does it cost a man to stand up for what he believes in? By 'stand up' I mean to actually change his behavior to fit his stated opinions and beliefs. This rare form of honesty is something I have read about and sometimes heard about, but seldom have I seen it. It is true that there have been many people in my acquaintance who have put up a pretty good fight, who have done at least something, but the kind of integrity I have in mind is the kind that, like that of Joan of Arc, is not bound by artificial restrictions but finds a way to express itself even at the risk of one's life.

Some years ago, while living in a great metropolis, my husband had the interesting experience of working for a large software company. While there, it happened that he was falsely accused of a certain breach of conduct. Throughout the investigation, my husband continually asserted his innocence and defended his position to the best of his ability, which eventually brought him face to face with the owner, and multimillionaire president of the company. As frightening as that must have been and in spite of the pressure from friends and associates alike to give in to the demands being made upon him to admit guilt and to 'reform' his behavior, he never wavered from his position. The president himself threatened to fire him if he did not comply and though he was called a fool and worse for doing so, my husband stood firm and refused to admit guilt. It was a good way to find out who his true friends were. Incidentally, my husband did not lose his job. He got a raise.

This small example of sticking to your guns is a little bit of what I am thinking of. It seemed like there were people coming out of nowhere telling my husband that he was a complete idiot to risk losing such a great job, just for the sake of a little misunderstanding. To them it was a mere trifle, a small thing, but to him, it was his integrity and it meant everything. I admire that in any man.

Joan of Arc is another personal heroine for the same reason. It took more than just courage to face a foul-mouthed general, a spoiled King, a nation of cowards and an opposing army of thousands. At each crossroads she faced her enemy and defeated them. Even when her own countrymen betrayed her to the enemy and she was jailed, harassed, tricked, tortured, tried and finally burned to death they could not take from her the one possession which was worth more than all the gold of all the countries in the world; her integrity remained and still remains intact. Today there are more statues in remembrance of Joan of Arc than of any other person who ever lived. 

But I have to ask myself: Why did she do it? Why was she willing to risk her life for the sake of one little principle of truth, as she perceived it? And when she had done so, and died for it, why did the whole world rise up and praise her little name as one of the Great Ones of the world?

People have said to me: “You probably won't be asked to give your life for your belief.” And I want to say: “Why not?” What does it cost a man to stand up for what he believes in? To really stand, to fight, to never give in, to persevere through difficulty, rejection, persecution or even death? The immortal words of Nathan Hale still ring true today: “I only regret that I have but one life to give for my country.” There ought to be more things than country for which a man would be willing to lay down his life. For instance, the safety and well-being of one's children, the sanctity of one's home and family or the integrity of one's business dealings to name a few. Today it would seem that there are too many people who would rather die than be honest. They would rather die than save their marriage. Perhaps they would even rather die than make someone happy. How have we come to this? 

Sir Thomas Moore, I think, could teach us something. It was he who said: “When a man takes an oath, he's holding his own self in his own hands like water, and if he opens his fingers then, he needn't hope to find himself again.” Indeed, it seems we are a people lost in a sea of forgotten selves. We do not know who we are because we stand for nothing, risk nothing, gain nothing. What is death compared to that?

Justice, Please

I recently came across a person who, in the heat of the moment, began an exposition on the evils of lying and cheating. He was extremely angry with a person whose blatant dishonesty shocked and appalled him to the point of disbelief. He simply couldn't understand how anyone could be so unkind and unfair. The dishonest behavior, incidentally, directly affected the well-being of this man and his family. As a result, his indignation grew exponentially with each thought of its impact upon himself, his wife and his innocent children. The poor man, I thought.

Each of us is endowed at birth with a sense of what can only be called Justice. I have cared for children since I was old enough to hold them and one of the first things you become aware of in a child's character is their sense of right. They don't have to be very old before they realize that if they have a thing in their possession and someone preemptively snatches it from them, they will become instantly indignant. It is not something learned by association or observation. It seems to be part of them when they arrive.

As a child grows, observes and learns, he becomes initiated into the customs of his surroundings and learns to appreciate more things, desire more things and as a result to wish to hold on to even more things. The old saying about something being as 'easy as taking candy from a baby' is, in my experience, bogus. Few things are more difficult. The truth is, from the time we are old enough to recognize a thing and desire to possess it, we become indignant if someone takes it from us.

As a mother, one of my chief responsibilities is that if 'justice of the peace' in my own home. I have settled disputes of every kind on a daily, hourly basis for over twenty-five years. Children, I have learned, naturally desire justice to be done when they have been wronged in any way and a mother is the natural judge of such things. As a seasoned and experienced judge then, I have found it most interesting that although children find it easy to become angry at their brother for an obvious offense, they find it even easier to commit the same offense against someone else.

There is in everyone, I believe, not only a desire for justice to be done to themselves, but also a knowledge that other people also deserve the same justice. However, this knowledge of the rights of others, sometimes gets lost in the shuffle of our daily lives and grievances. We can get so caught up in our own search for justice that we overlook the need to provide it to others. This is overwhelmingly the cause of the most disputes among my children. In the majority of cases, where one person has been wronged, they, (the victim), were almost invariably guilty of committing the same wrong against the perpetrator. Each in their turn demanded justice, but neither was willing to dispense it to the other. Each was willing to commit the offense and neither desired to admit it or correct that behavior.

Such was the case with the man I mentioned above. He was quick to point out the injustice of the person who had been dishonest and had hurt his family. He easily recognized the need, even the duty this person owed to him and his family, to be honest and upright in his dealings with him. He, however, in practically the same breath, began discussing with impunity and without the least hesitation, his own dishonesty in another matter. He justified himself in committing this dishonest act by saying that he needed the advantages it would give him. Amazed, I tried to point out that the same fault for which he was willing to send one man to jail, was also a part of his own character and didn't he think it strange to point an accusing finger at one person when justice would certainly demand that the finger also be pointed at him.

He looked at me, puzzled; as though the thought had never occurred to him. I wanted to tell him what I tell my children: If you expect justice from someone else, you have to give it. Children understand this concept, but often fail to live it. Unfortunately, I see no difference in many of the adults around me. Like children, they are all too willing to cheat their neighbor but become angry if anyone cheats them. And justice simply says: You deserve each other.

The Age of Distraction

I have grown up in a unique age in the history of the world. It has been called many things but today I will call it: The Age of Distraction. Wherever you go, there is something going on visually and audibly to attract and distract your attention. I do mean everywhere you go! From your living room to the grocery store to the dentist's office to the gas station, you are literally never alone with your thoughts because someone is out to get them all the time.

Driving down the freeway you would have to look at your lap in order to avoid the constant barrage of media being aimed at you. The intensive, high-tech mish-mosh of visuals can actually make you sick with some of the images and ideas they portray. On a more intense level, if you go to the theater to watch a new movie, you have to sit through at least ten minutes of advertising for upcoming movies for which you may or may not have an interest. But you are a captive audience, so they take advantage of you. They grab you, twist you around, shoot you in the gut and throw you back on your seat in a cold sweat and then say, “Enjoy the show!”

Some of the most annoying and distracting advertisements are the new electronic signs with video capabilities. They flash lights and images faster than you can actually read or process them, practically blinding you, and making it impossible to drive, leaving you with the feeling that you have just had a high-powered x-ray from the death star!

But of all the distractions on the planet, video games get the lowest marks in my book. I mean, ads can annoy, obnoxious music in the stores can offend and movie ads can be in-your-face and dreadful, but video games...well, that's another story. Video games do not play fair. They hit under the table, where you can't see it. Without a doubt, video games are potentially addictive. Alright, so you like to play video games. Big deal. You like to eat Twinkies too and no one makes a fuss. But according to some researchers, the average young American will spend 10,000 hours playing video games before the age of 21. That's ten thousand hours that might have been spent doing something useful. When I was a child, the big thing was that kids were watching too much television. The world reaped a harvest of dumbed-down children who are now having children of their own. These children are video game savvy youth who will spend more time playing those games than almost anything else in their lives. The result? According to an article by Sandy Hingston: “Sociologists cite five “markers” or “milestones” that have traditionally defined our notion of adulthood: finishing school, moving away from the parental home, becoming financially independent, getting married, and having a child. In 1960, 65 percent of men had ticked off all five by age 30; by 2000, only a third had.” [ quoted from: “22 Stats That Prove That There Is Something Seriously Wrong With Young Men In America” on theeconomiccollapseblog.com]

Some have attacked video games citing teen violence as a leading outcome. However, according to others, there is no real link between the two. But apparently it isn't what they are doing as a result of the games but what they are NOT doing. The most devastating effects of spending so much time doing other things besides living, have to do with home, family and life itself. According to the research I found, right now, approximately 53 percent of all Americans in the 18 to 24 year old age bracket are living at home with their parents and according to another survey, 29 percent of all Americans in the 25 to 34 year old age bracket are still living with their parents. Young men and women should be taught to face the challenges of life with something like courage and fortitude. Instead, they are staying home, avoiding marriage and family, living off their parents, and essentially checking-out of life, by the millions. We are losing an entire generation of young people to a seemingly harmless distraction. It reminds me of the old commercials about literacy that said: “A mind is a terrible thing to waste.” Then I would add, a generation is an infinitely more terrible thing to waste.

The Law of Accidents

In spite of the overwhelming evidence to the contrary, there are still those scientists, teachers and others who doggedly stick to the story/fable that everything we see is the result of happenstance, thrown together over uncountable billions of years. All the excuses, arguments and made-up theories such as Big Bang, Evolution, Chance, etc. are fabricated for the sole purpose of eliminating the idea of a 'Higher Power' in the universe. And to all of these propositions there is but one answer: LAW.

So, maybe in some alternate universe there is something like life without law, but here...everything is 'governed' by law. First of all, you have the Laws of Nature. This is not one but multiple laws. From the time we are small children we discover these wonderful laws and it is explained to us that these laws are undeniable and irrefutable. For instance, birds and fish cannot mate and produce bird-fish. This is a law. Water is lighter and larger when frozen. This is also according to law. If it were not so, the whole earth would be useless. We have the Laws of Physics, the Laws of Genetics, the Laws of the Elements, Laws of Mathematics, Laws of the Universe and the list goes on.

In fact, there is not one single particle of our existence and surroundings that is not covered and governed by binding laws. All of this not only suggest, but shouts that if you have a law, you have order, not chaos. If you have order, you must also have design. If you have design, you must have a designer. What I am wondering is how this immutable fact has escaped the supposedly brilliant minds of our day?

How can you look at a complex machine and say, “This must have taken millions of years to evolve into it's present form, because it is so complex.”? Well, it would be absurd to say such a thing. But it is equally...no, it is even more absurd to look at, know about and study life, the laws of nature and of the universe and say that all of this law, order, complexity, unity and beauty just happened to get this way because of a bunch of accidents and a lot of time.

So briefly, what they are telling us, in their poorly designed fable, is that if you take a whole bunch of cars and crash them together with nothing more than the power which came from within themselves and let them sit for a long, long time after that, without acting upon them in any way (because there cannot be any intelligent design), that eventually we would see a Lamborghini appearing slowly out of the rubble, one piece at a time, growing, forming and creating itself, wanting to form a new car out of the rubble of a very large accident. At first we might see just little nuts and bolts forming and then, because they knew, (after becoming conscious, of course), that this was not enough, they would see that there needed to be more nuts and bolts. Then, when there was nothing but nuts and bolts everywhere, they would decide that the nuts and bolts needed to start holding something together, so some of the nuts and bolts would start shaping differently into flat objects which the nuts and bolt would attach to, forming little blobs of metal held together by nuts and bolts. From there, time would do the rest and eventually, billions and billions of years later, we would have a beautiful, well-oiled working machine... a self-aware, thinking Lamborghini.

Does this sound sensible? Does this sound believable? Does this sound like the truth? If you answered no to any of these questions then, congratulations! You can think! Perhaps the thing that annoys me most about the assumptions of those who teach such foolish, idiotic fables to us and our children is that they assume that we will actually believe them; that we cannot think far enough ahead or behind to realize that what they are telling us is the biggest hunk of (%&*#) that anyone ever passed off as truth. Someone must think we are pretty stupid to believe such things and allow such tales to be taught as truth both to us and to our children. Maybe it has something to do with the laws of human nature. But wait. If there is a law, there is order and if there is order, there is design and if there is design...

Closer Than You Think

From the time we are born, we are looking for approval, acceptance or validation of some kind. First, we look to our parents and siblings who smile when we do something they like and frown when we do not. After that, we look to teachers and other adults to provide that approval. For some, I suppose the search for acceptance might be the sum of their existence. They might even see life as a hopeless quest for approval in a largely disapproving world. It seems that there is always someone older, smarter, richer, higher or more powerful than we are and from whom we crave acceptance in one way or another. Unfortunately, this kind of approval-seeking has no end.

As a woman who has borne several children, I understand the approval-seeking process amazingly well. My first visit to the doctor's office with my first pregnancy put me right back to a sort of parent-child relationship with my doctor. If I did everything I was supposed to, gained the right amount of weight, had the right number of red blood cells and a 'clean' urine sample, I was validated, praised and given encouragement to keep going. If, however, I was forgetful of taking my pills, gained too much or too little weight, had weak blood or an 'unclean' urine sample, I was pronounced negligent with a shake of the head, given a strict regimen to help me reform my behavior and told in no uncertain terms that I was in trouble. As a result, I was inclined to push myself harder and be more self-critical and worried than perhaps I deserved.

If you have ever had a hard boss, you know what I am talking about. Bosses sometimes act as though they own you, your life, your children, your time, your freedom, your thoughts, etc. They know, of course, that they do not and they will thereby deny any responsibility for your welfare, but when it comes to sacrificing your time, freedom, pride, family or anything else, they will not hesitate to expect or even demand such a sacrifice. This kind of relationship tends to make one feel as powerless as a babe in diapers. In response, we might work harder, sacrifice more or even compromise our standards in order to gain the approval of such a boss. As a result, we might think less of ourselves and most certainly be extremely unhappy.

Teachers might feel this way about overbearing parents. Parents might feel this way about teachers who refuse to give an inch. Adult children might feel this way about controlling parents and parents might feel this way about a manipulative child. A poor man might feel this way toward a bill collector and a businessman might feel this way toward a city council. The list is endless.

Victor Frankl, survivor of a Nazi prison camp, teaches us a principle that overrides all of these negative possibilities. He said that he discovered, almost by accident, that when he was in the most difficult circumstances, (a death camp for instance), he was able to carry on a conversation in his mind with his wife whom he loved. In that conversation he could hear her voice, speaking sweet words of love and friendship. As he heard those words and answered them in his mind, he began to feel joy and happiness. There he was in the midst of the worst-case scenario and he was feeling joy! This discovery taught him that he had the power within himself to be at peace and feel joy in spite of his surroundings.

For me, there is one person whose approval must be met at all costs. When I approve of myself, when I ask myself what I think of me, when I have accepted, validated and approved of my own actions, behaviors, thoughts, words, life etc. then I have done what Victor Frankl did. I have achieved peace amidst war, harmony in the face of discord, power instead of impotence. Like Victor Frankl, I can carry on a conversation in my mind with the one person who knows me perfectly and can give the most honest assessment of me. All the validation and approval from outside sources can never replace self-approval. And though you have the friendship of the whole world and do not accept yourself, happiness will still be out of reach. Like Dorothy in “The Wizard of Oz” who needed to realize that her happiness was waiting for her in her own back yard, approval, acceptance and happiness may be closer than we think.

Independence Day

Today's world is so full of convenience, entitlement and luxury that, as far as history is concerned, people have become soft. I have heard of remote villages where they live on dirt floors and go bare-footed, but they still have a television. This, I think, represents the insanity of our day, when you can have the most extreme poverty beside ridiculous luxury, all in the same household! But why should life be that way? Have the luxuries of life become necessities in our eyes? Could we more easily go without food than without satellite TV?

Some years ago, I sat in a public health office waiting for an appointment. I overheard a discussion between a social worker and one of her clients. They were arguing over the amount of food stamps the family would receive during the month. The man was pleading for a little bit more than the allotted amount because he said that his family needed the extra money they would save in order to pay for their cable TV. He said that they simply couldn't go without it. After I finished chuckling to myself, I sat pondering on the man's dilemma. Here he was, a poor man, obviously without a job, begging for government food, just trying to get by day to day, with the help of people being paid to decide what he was entitled to. I wondered what choices he had. I wondered if the only thing left in his life was to beg for enough money to have enough entertainment so that he could sit all day 'watching' other people live.

With the growing numbers of people dependent upon government support, this seems an increasingly important issue. I mean, unless these numbers are staying the same or decreasing, we will eventually find ourselves in the position where there are more people asking for money than people able to give it. Then, like an upside-down mortgage, we will be in an irreversible mess. But for now we just have a lot of people who are being shelved, as it were, living in relative comfort, ease and security, without contributing anything to their own support. How can we even begin to count the cost of the loss of dignity, self-respect, responsibility, accountability and productivity?

Now, we are told, everyone has a 'right' to health care. Add that to the list of entitlements and you have an ever-growing burden being placed upon working people whose motivation for working is becoming increasingly difficult to muster. Like the cartoon that shows a man out of work on a park bench saying how glad he is that he can still have health care even though he is out of work. The other man on the bench then asks him why he has lost his job. The other man says that the company he worked for had to lay him off in order to provide the new health care for everyone.

The irony of this situation is not a joke. This is the reality of our time. We are living in the age of the upside-down economy; when people have been led to believe that they have a 'right' to have whatever they want or need. Thus far, in this country at least, this belief has prospered. Those who feel entitled to food, clothing, shelter, health care, entertainment, education etc. have been able to find a government willing and able to force the rest of the population to provide that 'right'. But, as I said before, when the tipping point is reached and there are more on the receiving end than on the other, we will see a different picture. Perhaps then, people will declare their independence from such bondage.

No one wants to live his life being forced to provide for others who cannot, will not, or who for generations past, simply have not worked. Forced charity is not charity at all. To willingly give of one's substance to those who need it is a virtue. -- This is the way of freedom. To take support without giving something of equal value in return is a crime.--This is the order of the day. To be forced, year after year, to support by your labor those who do not work is slavery.-- This takes the cake.