The Worst Show on Earth

I have to laugh when I think of the theatrical attempts to “balance the Federal budget”. I say theatrical because I believe that for the most part their public attempts at budgeting are largely for our benefit. In other words, I don't think they are really trying to balance anything except public opinion. This makes me think of another facet of life, and that is: pain.

No one likes pain. It hurts, right? Get rid of it, right? As a mother of twelve, I have experienced first-hand what I would call excruciating pain on many levels. Every part of my body (I think) in varying degrees and for varying amounts of time has been subject to pain which at times has seemed impossible to bear. At first, when I was younger, the answer for pain was a pain-killer. Your head hurts: take an aspirin. As I grew older and the pain became more complex, there were also more complex solutions. For instance, for a sore throat, the doctor would prescribe an antibiotic with the pain-killer. These simple solutions to pain were mostly acceptable until I had my first child. As I lay on the table being torn apart by the pain inside me, there was no amount of medication, short of complete anesthesia, that would stop the pain. I simply had to bear it. That episode of pain caused me to re-think my philosophy of pain.

I had been thinking that the solution for pain was to eliminate it through medication. As I began to experience many different kinds of pain, I realized that this solution was too simple and too often inadequate. So, I started looking for other ways to eliminate pain. First of all, I asked myself what was causing the pain. During my pregnancies, I often endured terrible back and leg pain which made it impossible to sleep or to walk. Pain medication during pregnancy can be dangerous for the baby, so I chose to simply endure the pain. That was easier said than done! Then I began looking for ways to eliminate the pain without killing it. I knew that pain killers, like their name, did a certain amount of killing; mostly of brain cells whose job it is to send pain messages to you. It would be like hiring a budget manager for your business who simply threw out all the bills you received in order to show on the books that you had plenty of money. I suppose it would work for a while, but when you found out what he was doing, you would probably have him arrested for fraud. Just so with the pain-killer. It doesn't really do anything to help the situation except to make you think that everything is OK, when in actuality, it isn't.

So, I took it upon myself to discover the source of my pain, which in the case I have been describing was a muscle in my back. I began reading about those areas of the body and was led from one piece of knowledge to another until I finally found a simple little exercise I could do every day for about fifteen seconds which would stretch the muscle in question and relieve all of the pain in both my back and legs. I laughed at myself for not finding it sooner and was able to complete all of my succeeding pregnancies with little or no back and leg pain.

Now a budget whose debt ceiling is constantly going higher is not a budget at all but a fiasco. No one is actually trying to 'balance' anything except their own position. The only way to balance a budget is to PAY the debt. Their answer is to PRINT more money in order to borrow more money in order to spend more money in order to pretend that we don't owe any money. It's like having a broken leg and instead of stopping to heal, you take pain pills and keep running. Eventually you will run out of brain cells to kill and you will collapse. At that point, you will be in much worse shape than if you just let the leg heal in the first place.

The “Balance the Budget” show is just that: a show. No one wants to stop, heal and pay debts. That takes time and sacrifice, patience and forbearance, knowledge and skill. Instead we will be treated to a carnival of “Kill the Messenger Who Dares to Speak of Budget Cuts.”, “A Fairy Tale Theater Where No One Ever Has To Pay Back Anything!” and the dizzying: “Look at the Amazing Men Who Can Avert Financial Disasters By Printing More Money!” Personally, I think I'll just stay home and balance my budget.

Can You Read? (The Writing On the Wall)

Yesterday, I heard again the story of what happened in a small village just prior to the tsunami that literally swallowed everything. The story goes that this was a fishing village, and had been for many generations. Their wisdom, folklore and knowledge had been handed down from father to son for hundreds of years. One day, an old fisherman went out to his boat and saw that the ocean had receded a great deal. Immediately he raised a cry in the village that everyone must go directly to higher ground.

The man's own grandchildren mocked him and did not believe him. Some thought he was just an old fool. Still, with much persuasion in the little time they had, they were able to get everyone off the shore and out of the village before the “wave that eats people” came and swept everything away. Of all the islands and peoples who witnessed that tsunami, only that one little village was able to save all of it's people.

A few months ago, I was reading a history book. This book was describing political, social, economic and religious conditions just prior to a major event. The description caught my attention for several reasons. First, it was almost as though I were reading today's newspaper; the events so closely resembled today's. Second, there were many key elements that seemed to be taken word for word out of today's vocabulary of major events. Third, I seemed to see the writing on the wall when I compared those events to those I see today and took them to their natural conclusions.

Shortly after reading that history book and being a little shaken by the possible conclusions, I was surprised to come across someone who had done something similar to what I had just done. She had not only analyzed the history of that one event, but had taken many such events and had done extensive research on each one and made direct comparisons across the board. Her conclusions were exactly the ones that I had come to, only she had gathered more facts to back them up.

If I had lived in a tiny fishing village just prior to the tsunami, I would like to think that it wouldn't take a baseball bat over the head to persuade me that the old man was telling the truth, or at least I hope I would have the good sense to see that I had nothing to lose by believing him and it might end up saving my life. Before the tsunami hit, the villagers had only a few minutes to bring everyone to safety. In the history book I was reading, the people had a few years of warnings. If they had been reading their own history, they too might have seen some of the parallels and perhaps could have prevented, or at least prepared for such an eventuality. I have read many accounts of people during that time who, though warned many times, and in different ways, were more inclined not to believe the warnings, but would rather believe the propaganda, and were thus caught unawares and unprepared, costing some of them their lives. It pays to know the difference.

I am not an old fisherman and I do not have a PHD in history, but what I have read and seen in my life has taught me that when an old man says to DO something NOW, you'd better do it, and when a historian says we are going to repeat history, you'd better plan on it.

No one had to tell me today that the 'water' is receding so to speak. No one had to tell me that there are a lot of things 'fishy' right now in my world. I have never SEEN this happen before in my life, but I know people who have, and they all say the same thing: This has happened before, only on a smaller scale and history is repeating itself.

The trouble is, no one wants to 'get to higher ground' while the sun is still shining and there's money to be made. Nope, even if they were sure it was coming, there are those who will wait until the water is splashing down on top of them from a 40 ft. wave before they will try to do something, and then wonder why someone didn't do it FOR them.

What A World

There is a bit of irony about life that we as human beings deal with every day. It is so much a part of our lives that we do not even notice it anymore, yet it affects us negatively every day and we complain a great deal about it with almost everyone we meet. Like the weather, every one experiences it but no one really expects to do anything about it. The damage done by this thing is incalculable, yet no one does anything to eliminate it because we think we cannot. That is, we think we cannot, until we have the power.

When children are small, they are subject entirely to their parents, guardians, babysitters, older siblings and nearly anyone who is bigger than they are. Theirs is a world of giants (and sometimes ogres) who dictate what their life will be like from the moment they awake into this world until they are big enough to fight back. As subjects in this little world, they are made to do whatever the bigger people decide they should do. The means by which they are 'made' to do those things is usually, first: asking, second: telling, third: forcing and finally: punishment if the child is not compliant. Thus defines the circle of many a child in the world today.

I will not argue that children can be difficult to raise, or that they do not need some form of discipline; no, in my opinion, raising children is far and away the most complex and difficult task anyone can undertake. But this is not about the children, it is about the adults. You see, each of us was once a child, subject to the discipline and sometimes unfair treatment of others who were older and bigger than us. Does it not seem surprising then that people often become the thing they despised when they were children?

Does it make sense that a person who was bullied all his life should become a bully? I think it makes more sense that if one was bullied, he would do all in his power to NOT be a bully. By the same token, those of us who are treated ill by some power larger than ourselves ought to be doing all in our power to eliminate such things in the future.

Here I would like to make a comparison to the Lord of the Rings. In that story, the ring is a tool of control. It is filled with all the malice and hatred of its master and seems to want only to serve his ends. When those with good intentions come along and take possession of the 'ring of power' they are sorely tempted to use the ring 'for good'. However, Gandalf, the wizard, informs them that the ring serves only one master and that if you try to use the ring you will not be able to do good with it. You would only do evil in the NAME of good, thus doing an even greater evil. That is the irony.

This kind of thinking is employed every day in our world. People raised in situations of control and coercion go on to control and coerce others. When this becomes the norm, then we consider it our duty to control and coerce other people and we see no other way to achieve the ends in mind. It makes me think of the saying, “Fighting for peace.” We haven't made the connection that fighting never achieved peace. The ring of power only has one master. But the power is so tantalizing that people are willing to forget all that they really know about life in order to wield the power, and power, unfortunately, is addictive. Once used it is almost impossible to resist.

It seems to me that it is a little bit like children on a playground who have discovered a powerful weapon and use it to force everyone on the playground to play correctly. You don't need to teach manners, politeness, kindness or consideration when force is present. You merely wave your magic weapon and everyone is at peace with everyone else. Sound effective? Sure. No one is fighting. But what kind of playground is it? Do you really want to play there, or would you do anything to get away from it? Or, on the other hand, would you do everything in your power to get the weapon away from the one in charge so that YOU could be in control. Sound familiar? It should. As the witch in the Wizard of Oz put it: “What a world, what a world.”

One Bite at a Time

I have often wondered about the life of animals as compared to people. What a strange world we live in, where animals, free of care, live and die without remorse while people watch them with curiosity and interest. People, on the other hand, take their lives very seriously, making calculated decisions, directing their lives, positioning, climbing, reaching. In the process, ironically, the people often take care of animals, who can actually take care of themselves. People live lives of worry, heartache, pain, trouble and self-destruction, while the animals live in utter oblivion of such things, living, for the most part, at peace with themselves and everything around them. All of this makes me wonder if, as humans, we haven't missed something.

It must be understood that there are vast differences of capability between humans and animals. These differences account for the larger part of the question. But the rest of the question still wants to be answered: What are we as humans missing about life that makes us live lives of self-destruction. By self-destruction I do not mean that people are necessarily trying to kill themselves, although some are; but I mean that people, unlike animals, will elicit behaviors that are minimally self-destructive over long periods of time, with the result that in the end, they destroy themselves.

Smoking is such a behavior. It is widely known that smoking will damage the lungs and eventually destroy the body. Nevertheless, a great many people do it. But suppose I were a big Pharma company and wanted to test a new drug, so I gave the drug to an animal to study it's effects on the animal. Some people would say it was cruel to give the animal a drug that might harm the animal, and I would agree. So, what about the cigarettes? Why do humans think it's fine to damage your own body a little at at time, when they wouldn't even dream of doing such a thing to their dog or cat?

I have known some mechanics in my life who treat their cars like members of the family. They park them in garages, wash them, baby them, and put only the best products into them so as to ensure the longest and best use of the vehicle. They know, most assuredly, that if they were to put inferior products into their vehicle, it would not run properly. They would not even dream of putting water in the gas tank or dish soap into the radiator. If they have a pet, especially a valued pet, they will feed him only the best pet food. They know that feeding inferior food will result in inferior performance, health and appearance of the animal.

All of this suggests that humans are capable of intelligent thought. So why does that intelligent thought simply fly out the window where our own lives are concerned? Why do people live as though it didn't matter what you put into your body, what you thought, or how you lived? If I were to put a bottle of apple juice into a man's carburetor he would be angry, at least. He would say: “How could you be so stupid? Apple juice doesn't go in a car! What were you thinking?”

And I would say: “OK, so what's different if you take carbon dioxide and pour it into your stomach? Carbon dioxide, in the form of fizzy drinks, is a waste product to the human body and you are pouring it in by the gallon, every day? How long do you think your body can withstand that kind of abuse? How long would your car last if I poured waste products into it? It's true that your body is amazingly resilient, but it does have a breaking point. But why push it to the breaking point. Why not just give it what it requires and call it good? That's what you expect and demand for this car that isn't even alive, or that animal that you take care of. What are you thinking?”

Yes, I often wonder if we haven't missed something. Like how to live without deliberately killing ourselves one bite at a time.

Garbage: Millions Served

My hat is off to those people who can write books of creatively written stories that take you to another place and time, or those who can portray real events in people's lives in such a way that they are enjoyable to read and learn from. Many times as I have been reading a good book I have found myself wanting the book not to end and wishing that the author had written more books like this one.

One such author is C.S. Lewis. I have read many of his books and each time I get to the end of one of his books, I am sad that there is not another page to turn or another book of his waiting to be read. I like his books because they are intelligent, witty and always have something to teach me that I didn't know before I read it. Unlike some of today's fiction, his books have intrinsic value to the reader. In other words, he was not writing merely to occupy the reader's time with an interesting story, but there seems to be a higher purpose in the book which the reader may or may not discover.

I have read many moralizing books that attempt to tell a story while at the same time telling you what you are supposed to think and learn from it. Books or movies that use this format are about as appealing as cold mashed potatoes. On the other hand, I love to read books that allow me to discover things about the story that were not actually told to me. Like being given a good piece of meat to chew on, it's something you can sink your teeth into; something your mind can ponder. There are too many books that have nothing in them but the surface story line, like a soap opera. They are merely a string of events, one leading to another in an endless succession of trauma and escape, with no real or thought-provoking dialog, characters or situations.

As I picked up another 'best-seller' the other day, the thought occurred to me that the book sounded exactly like I was reading a screen-play for a movie. It was not really literature, but a movie on paper. There was little time spent developing the background or characters. There was a lot of childish, petty dialog and some loosely drawn descriptions of clothing, but not so much that you might be able to learn anything from it, or have anything to think about. In fact, there seemed to be a significant lack of thought in everything. The story rambled as thought it were being invented on the spot, by a five-year-old child and the characters had anything but character.

If this had been a book that I picked up from the used book store and not a best-seller, I might not have been so surprised. But if that book is a best-seller, then we are in trouble. I say trouble because I think it is trouble when such a large portion of our population is consuming such large amounts of mental trash. But it's a little bit like the guy who tried to sue McDonald's for serving food that caused him to be obese and unhealthy. He had the choice to eat or not to eat, but he wanted someone else to be responsible.

We have the choice to consume or not to consume anything, whether it is food, entertainment, news or anything. We can be like the man at McDonald's and say that it was their fault for serving bad food, or we can take responsibility for our choices, in spite of the convenience of having the poorest quality if goods served microwave fresh, day and night and in your face. As with the body, so with the mind: 'garbage in, garbage out'. 'Garbage out' will never change by itself. It is always the result of the initial choice of 'garbage in'. So, we can either get used to garbage, or we can put the garbage where it belongs and start over. Is there really any other choice?

I Dare You

I dare you to think for yourself. It sounds simple, I know, but who among us can boast that he has done it? Who has actually done the research himself into the perplexing questions of our day, discovered the truth and had the courage to believe what he discovered? It's too easy to just believe what we are told, since we are told it so many times, from so many sources.

It begins when we read our first text book. These books are written by a select few individuals who have been appointed and chosen to summarize the original sources for the benefit of the student. Supposedly this saves many hours of time in research and discovery. The student simply reads the conclusions and is satisfied that he has a knowledge in that field. It was only when I began to read sources of knowledge for myself that I realized that the summaries I was reading were actually only politically correct interpretations of the actual facts. As times have changed so have the interpretations, so that now when I read, say, a history text, it is vastly different from the one I read when I was a child.

History texts are one example of this principle, but the same holds true in other fields. For example, the interpretation of scientific data concerning the origin of the universe, the origin of life and the nature of that life is in a constant state of flux. From year to year one can find widely varying differences in the current theories, current interpretations and currently accepted 'facts'. The interpretations of biology, social sciences, psychology, health science, history, government and even English literature are changing so often today that one hardly knows where to stand from one day to the next, much less from one generation to the next.

A big problem arises then, when parents attempt to teach and help their children. They may have been taught and believed in a certain concept when they were young, but when they try to teach it to their children or even to help the child with their school work the parents can easily be made to look ridiculous in the eyes of the child and his teacher for holding to 'outmoded' beliefs or views. When that happens there is a subtle shift in allegiance from parents and tradition to teachers and textbooks.

There is nothing in the world like first hand information. When I read about the holocaust I do not go to a textbook to read someone else's opinion about what he thinks has happened based on what HE has read. I go to the source. I read first hand accounts of people who were there. They are not interpreting the situation for me, they are simply recounting their experience and I am free to interpret it according to my own values and understanding.

The other day I read a news broadcast stating that the action in Lybia was considered as a controlled peacekeeping mission, not a war. However, in reading first hand accounts of what is actually happening, I have decided that it is actually war. Those who say it is not war want me to think this so I will accept their actions as necessary and not think of the ramifications this action might have on our own country or the one we happen to be bombing, not to mention thinking of my nieces and nephews in the military who might be risking life and limb for such a venture, and further, the implications this might have for our future if war can be waged without the consent of the Congress, so long as you do not call it war.

All of this and more are the reasons why textbooks, news broadcasts and other forms of controlled media are not the best places to shop for information or interpretation. Going to the source might be harder and less predictable, but if it prevents me from making grave mistakes, I am content. I dare you to go to the source, to think for yourself and to find your own way in this maze of information and interpretation. I just dare you to think for yourself. Joan of Arc was one girl who thought for herself, made a difference and saved her country. Maybe one of us could do something like that. Or we can just listen to the news.

A Priceless Pearl

I confess that snow does not put me in the mood for Christmas Carols, pine trees and gifts. For some reason, this season of the year always comes a little too soon for me and it finds me an unwilling victim of the stress, the shopping, the slippery holiday traffic, and the general hubub. Speaking of hubub, I guess this might make me sound a little bit like a 'humbug', in the words of Mr. Scrooge. “'Tis the season” tends to make me grimace instead of smile, so I suppose I am a bit of a humbug. But I have my reasons.

For one thing, it seems that there is some confusion as to what and why we celebrate. I always thought that this was about the babe in the manger who came to save us. Maybe I'm just ultra-conservative, but seeing, hearing and in general being subjected to nearly two solid months of Santa, Elves, Reindeer (and Grandmothers being run over by them), goodies, toys, shopping, tinsel, trees, lights (as though we were in Las Vegas), and every gimmick for selling something that can be imagined by advertisers, it seems that what I thought was the real message has been skipped over in order to spend time on more interesting other stuff.

As a music lover also, I have a very difficult time during Christmas. I think I have heard every holiday song played and sung in every possible manner, some of which should never have been tried. This year, I began hearing those tunes even before Thanksgiving! From “Feliz Navidad” to “Rockin' Around the Christmas Tree” to “Silent Night” the grocery stores, shopping malls, dentist office and even parking lots are filled with the never ending stream of both the sacred and the profane, all mixed together in a big mish-mosh of sound. I love music, but at this time of year I am tempted to wear ear plugs most of the time. For me it's like having everything on a buffet table all mixed into one big bowl and served up together; the ham with the jello with the gravy with the fruit with the salad with the potatoes. Stir it up together, heat it all to the same temperature, and throw it at people as they walk by. Not a very satisfying meal.

Did I mention advertising? That wonderful little tool of business that reminds us on a daily, hourly basis just how many shopping days we have left, (as though we were being let to the gallows!) which items are on sale and we MUST buy BEFORE Christmas, OR ELSE our child will be disappointed, OH NO! They are also the people that incessantly drill into our heads how much we are SAVING by buying NOW. “Just think of the comfort and convenience you will have. Just think of the bargains. Just think how you'll hate yourself if you miss this one. This chance may never come again.” But hey, it's all in the 'spirit of Christmas' right? And what about all that kiddie advertising? Think how happy you will make little Bobby if you buy him this really amazing little gadget. Think how sad he will be when he has seen the add for three weeks and has told you how much he wants it, only to find out that you got him school clothes instead.

Do you see what I'm up against? But the REAL Christmas only lasts one day. Happy Birthday! A family dinner, a remembrance, a reenactment. Simple really. But we can't just do that. No, we must have weeks of gift buying (even if you can't afford it), trees, decorations, parties etc. It reminds me of a story I heard. A man found a priceless pearl. He wanted everyone to see how beautiful the pearl was. So he had a box built for the pearl. In order to be worthy of the pearl, the craftsman carefully carved the box with beautiful designs, inlaid it with gold and put tiny glass windows in it so that people could see the pearl through the box. To his dismay, the owner of the pearl found that when it was put on display in this manner, people stopped looking at the pearl and only remarked on the amazing design of the box.

We have just such a priceless pearl. Perhaps we should take care that the box we adorn this pearl with does not overshadow the value of it's contents, lest we forget the value of the pearl while looking at the box.

Don't Drink the Water

Today as I drove into Wendell from Jerome I had the feeling again that I was coming home. It seemed strange to me since I grew up in a small town in North Dakota, but the feeling came from an interesting coincidence that I have noticed about the skyline of Wendell and that is that it looks amazingly like the skyline of the small town of Ross where I was raised. Now, every time I come into Wendell from the East, there comes a flood of memories of that faraway place that suddenly seems so very near.

Our town was exactly one mile long, from tip to toe. The first thing we encountered upon leaving the highway and entering our little hamlet was a mud puddle. Yes, a mud puddle. This little puddle was a fixture in the dirt road that marked the beginning of our town. It was always there, and to me, when our car bumped over it, it signaled the end of the outside world and the beginning of 'our world'. 'Our world' was made up of the little people who lived with the big people in the town, a little like a separate state within a larger country. We had our own rules, our own leaders, our own outlaws and our own way of dealing with them. Like the mud puddle at the top of the town, we may have seemed small and insignificant to some but we had our place and we loved it.

Our mud puddle, as I said, lay at the beginning of the dirt road that led off the main highway. The children (whoever happened to be in the group that day) often walked or rode bike to the puddle because that was as far as we were allowed to go. I remember one day in spring when the puddle was fresh and full, taking a walk to the puddle with a group of children. We laughed and talked the whole way but when we got to the puddle, decided that we were all very thirsty. My brother was the first to 'dare' to take a drink from the puddle. After that, some of the others drank, including myself. I can still taste the cool, earthy water in my memory. It seemed almost too good. I have never tasted water that was quite that refreshing since then. We walked home, content in our secret act of defiance, for we all knew that our mothers would never allow such a practice.

Much later in my life, I had a dream. In my dream there was a stream of water that ran through the town where we then lived. As I looked at the stream, I noticed that there were people drinking from it. After they had taken a drink from the stream, they became very angry and finally died. As I looked on in horror, I began to recognize people I knew also drinking of the stream. As they drank, I shouted, “No! Don't drink it, It will kill you!” They did not listen to me but drank anyway. Then to my utter dismay I saw even my closest friends partaking of the stream and dying. I awoke from my dream, weeping for the loss of my friends and wondering what it could mean. A short time later I understood.

In the little town where my husband and I moved to raise our family, water was everything and water was scarce but the community worked together so everyone could have what they needed. Then some businessmen with plenty of money came in and started buying water and changing the dynamics of the community. Wells started drying up, and people began to get very angry. Money is a terrible thing. It can make a man do what he doesn't even want to do, like a thirst that becomes so great you will even drink something you know is dangerous in order to quench it. Water was sold at extremely high prices and neighbors began blaming neighbors. Threats, fights, rumors and lies became common fare in a once-peaceful farming town. Finally, our closest friends, because of water, caused us to sell our home and leave the valley. Just as in my dream, I wept for the loss of my friends.

Looking back, I should not have drunk the water at the end of the road. It could easily have killed me. I knew it was dangerous, but I was willing to do it to prove I was brave. I wonder how many people try to prove they are brave by cheating their neighbor, looking the other way when someone needs you or pretending you don't know that you have caused someone pain. All I can say is what my mother would say if she saw me drink from the puddle, “ Don't do it. It might kill you.”

Marshmallow Choices

When I get up in the morning I choose what I will wear, what I will say and what I will do. No one else is or can be responsible for my choices. I alone choose to act for myself within the bounds of the circumstances of my life. Those choices lead to results which lead to other choices. This circle of choice is unique to human beings and is what I believe to be the marked difference between us and all other life. However, good choices do not make us good.

Let me explain. We all seem to be born with an innate desire to make our own choices, from the time we are tiny and screaming, “I can do it myself!” to the time when we are tottering around with a cane shouting, “I can do it myself!” But just making choices is relatively mundane. Choice coupled with a purpose becomes powerful.

Statistically speaking, people who go to prison for whatever reason almost always repeat the offense and go back. But when they are released from prison the first time they are watched like a hawk by parole officers, social workers, judges, policemen and even the community. These people attempt to channel the person into right choices, teach them right choices, direct them into right choices and even compel them to make right choices. After all of that, nearly every one of them finds a way to again make the choice that brought them to prison. Why? It's not that they really want to be in jail. It isn't that they don't know what right choices are. So what could prompt them to keep doing what they know will result in a prison sentence when they know how to avoid it?

In a study done with small children, each child was told that they could have a marshmallow. Each child was delighted with the prospect. After the marshmallow was produced, each child was then told that they could have two marshmallows if they were willing to wait for fifteen minutes, not eating the first marshmallow until the time was up and the second one was given. Some children could not and would not wait, but simply ate the one. Some tried to wait and eventually gave up. And some waited the fifteen minutes and were given the two marshmallows. It was discovered that this ability in the children to wait for a reward was an indicator of successful living later in life.

There are marshmallows in our lives today. We can choose to eat our marshmallow and forget about a second one. However, if we do that, we may regret not having it, especially if we see someone else who is eating his. We can choose to wait for the second one while secretly trying to nibble a bite here or there, thinking that it won't be noticed, or won't matter, until we wake up one morning and the first one is gone and there will not be another. We can also choose to force other people to wait for their marshmallows. We can spend all our time and energy trying to make them do the right thing only to find that in the moment when we weren't looking they managed to devour the marshmallow anyway and all we did was to make them hate us for trying to force them not to eat it. Or we can choose to wait for our marshmallow.

In the study, the adult always left the room and the child was left alone with the first marshmallow. Each of us is a witness to our own behavior and choices. Each of us is left alone with the marshmallow and must choose what to do with it. If I do not police my own actions, no amount of policing from the outside will help me. If you do not believe that there is another marshmallow, then there is nothing to do but devour the one you have. If there is a second marshmallow to be had, then wisdom suggests that we wait the fifteen minutes. But you do not instill belief in a second marshmallow by forcing someone to wait for it. Forced right choices are not choices but force and they never lead to more right choices but only instill a greater desire for freedom, even the freedom to choose unwisely. Integrity in adults, I believe, is rarer than the ability to wait for marshmallows in children. Without it there is no amount of policing that can remedy the marshmallow-devouring consequences that destroy a society and I wonder who will be left holding an empty bag?

Tap Roots

When I was little, people used to say that I was growing like a weed. I think it's more like a tree. I started from a tiny seed in my mother's womb, grew until I could breathe on my own and was then planted in a family. Every day I was fed and nurtured so that I could grow taller and stronger, like a tree. Most of the time my growth was imperceptibly slow, but sometimes I grew quickly and noticeably. Now, I do not get taller but I do grow stronger each year as I weather the challenges in my life. What I am wondering is, what is it that has caused me to grow stronger, when I could have easily been blown over in the storms?

Some years ago, I witnessed a terrible storm. The damage from the fierce winds was dreadful, but the most surprising thing was seeing huge trees, some of them fifteen feet around, laying flat on the ground. When I asked someone why these great trees with their massive trunks could not withstand the sudden and strong wind, his answer surprised me. He said that the trees had plenty of water every day. That, he said, was the reason why they could not endure the wind. Hmm. It didn't make sense to me. Then he explained. When the trees had water every day, (a condition suited more to the grass than to the trees) they had no reason to send down deep tap roots to find water. They got all they needed for their huge leafy canopy right on the surface. The root system had no reason to develop strong tap roots when there was such an abundance of water close by.

The obvious question I began to ask myself was, “Do I have a reason to send down tap roots? If so, what are those roots and what are they looking for?” As I examined my life and the lives of people I knew, I discovered that there were people who were being blown over by the winds of adversity and there were also people who were still standing, enduring. The word 'endure' has reference to a tree. It means to grow harder, stronger. Integrity means almost the same thing. I discovered that there were people who looked like they were strong but only on the surface. And, like the trees, they even had many years of experience but apparently had never sent down tap roots. So when the storms of life finally reached them, they didn't have the strength to stand against it.

For over two hundred years this country has been one of the most prosperous countries in the world. All you have to do is to travel abroad and it becomes clear that we have much to be thankful for. However, like the trees, if we have all that we need, in abundance, the danger is that we become complacent and forget to send down tap roots that can serve as an anchor in the storm. That the storms come is without question. Whether or not we are capable of enduring them is another story.

Just as the absence of conservation practices brought about the 'dust bowl' of the 1930's, so the absence of certain fundamental economic principles and practices are bringing on a financial storm today. Those who in times of plenty were wise enough to send down tap roots by practicing sound principles will most likely weather any storm. Those who only look strong but at heart have lost their integrity, will probably be leveled when the wind comes.

Ease, abundance and security produce large, weak trees. I want to be the tree that has deep roots. I may have to work harder and I may not grow as quickly as those who have all they need on the surface, but when the storms come, (and they do come) I hope to be ready.

Life is Short

Yesterday I saw these words printed on the sign of a restaurant: “Life is short; Eat dessert first.” I have always considered this a humorous saying and as I drove by I laughed again. Then I began to think. Maybe it's my upbringing, or maybe it's just things I have learned over the years but as I thought about it, I started to see that sayings of that nature, and there are many, have an underlying message that is diametrically opposed to life as I know it. In other words, I wasn't laughing anymore.

In raising my children I have tried to teach them that life can be short, especially if you do things that might shorten your life. I teach them to be careful and wise and to think ahead and consider consequences. I have known far too many people who shortened their lives by not doing those things. Although eating dessert might not seem like a drastically dangerous practice, to me it represents the principle of taking reckless action without forethought.

Every day there are new studies coming out that show the dangers of processed food. Sugar is one of the longest running processed foods on the planet and even moderate indulgence in it can cause addiction, disease and death. I went down the breakfast cereal isle of the grocery store the other day to determine if the findings of one of those studies were even close to the truth. I read an article recently that asserted that most breakfast cereal is not cereal at all but sugar. And some cereals, designed for children, were over half sugar. Half! As I read the ingredients on the boxes I was amazed to find that in all but one brand, sugar was at least the second or third ingredient, and in some it was the first. In other words, there was more sugar in the box than flour, or anything else. Essentially, people are eating their dessert first, every day without knowing it.

One of the things that has always bothered me about Christmas time is the apparent fixation with sugar during the entire month of December. I cannot go anywhere without people offering candy canes, sugar cookies, fudge and confections of every kind. Children especially are loaded up with bags of candy from every possible source. Santa is all about candy, stockings are all about candy, parties are all about cookies and candy and the list goes on and on. Before that there's Halloween with buckets of candy, all for the children. Before that, we go to the fair to eat and drink sugar all day while going on rides. Every holiday, every birthday, every trip to the bank and every visit to grandma we are eating dessert first.

Something I've noticed as a mother is that when children have had something sweet to eat they lose their appetite for anything else. When that happens they will turn up their noses at an otherwise favorite meal simply because they don't feel like eating. I have met many parents who have asked me how they can get their children to eat good food. They tell me that their children just refuse to eat. The children are plagued with frequent illnesses and seem to have a poor attitude as well. Some mothers today would like to have a special pill to relieve them of the challenges of raising children. From eating disorders to behavioral problems mothers have demanded and have been given a magic pill to 'take care of it'. And is the quality of our life improving because we are eating dessert first and making sure that our children get an extra dose of that dessert? Do our children eat better, live healthier and live longer? Rather it seems that now life is short, because we all eat dessert first. That's not funny at all.

Two Roads

We live in the age of the television. Satellites have made it possible to receive images instantly from anywhere in the world and there is a continuous cascade of information being poured through the airwaves at an ever-increasing rate. Add to this the cell phone and computer networks and you have a veritable flood of information being passed back and forth by the second. In no era of history do we find the comparison for our day. Never has man had access to so much so easily. But the question arises: What affect, if any, does all this information have on humanity, and on the world at large? Has it made us any better?

One of the first effects that television had on people was that it pushed them away from the dining room table. Instead of taking their meals with the family, people began to lean toward frozen meals, which were easily prepared by popping them into the oven. TV-trays appeared in the TV room and the dining room became somewhat obsolete. Microwave ovens gave us frozen dinners in record time, allowing more freedom from the kitchen and more time in the TV room. Advertisements targeting certain audiences at certain times produced obvious results, and parents began buying breakfast cereal, toys, clothing etc. based on their child's exposure to advertising.

Aside from it's obvious impact on home life, there appear to be some more subtle effects which, though hardly noticeable at first, could impact our lives more dramatically than even food and purchasing habits. I have noticed, in conjunction with the rise of television, movies, computers and gaming, a steady decline among my peers and associates in both inclination and ability to simply participate. Whether that participation is large or small, significant or unimportant, my friends and neighbors have tended toward less of it over my lifetime. This trend could spell the death of our culture, if it isn't already dead.

Assuming that our culture is not dead, what exactly does it consist of? Is it important? and Who is going to keep it alive? I cannot answer those question for you, but I can and have answered them for myself. And it is these answers that give rise to the things I do. Failure to answer these questions means certain death for the culture of our parents. Perhaps it is their family traditions, their customs, their family stories, their music or their dancing. Whatever it is, if we do not pass it on to the rising generation, it will most certainly be lost.

On Saturday we, with many of our friends, celebrated our pioneer heritage. Reenactments, music, dancing, stories, costumes and food all served as reminders of who we are and where we came from. This once-a-year remembrance gives us and our children a common point of reference and reminds us that we all stand on the shoulders of those who have gone before us. This intimate connection with those who brought us into this world is vital to the survival of our culture.

The age of the television is the age of couch potatoes, video game addiction, thousand-channel surfers, cyber friends, virtual reality and a host of other 'conveniences'. This is a new culture. It has no country, no flavor, no heart, no ancestor and no principle. It also brings none of the joy and unity that I experienced on Saturday. It seems to me that we have come to a cultural crossroads. We can let go of our heritage and embrace the new 'electronic culture', or we can keep alive the traditions of our past. I wonder if we can do both.

In the words of Robert Frost:

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I --

I took the one less traveled by,

And that has made all the difference.

To Dream

As children I believe we all liked to think big. My brother and I dreamed up more big plans for our lives than you could shake a stick at. Of course, at the time we didn't know our own limitations and the limitations that circumstances and other people would put on us, so we freely dreamed and dreamed big. Most of the joy in my childhood came from those times when I imagined myself doing all sorts of amazing things.

When I was about eight years old, my cousin and I would take long treks through the fields and pastures around our homes both exploring and dreaming of things we would do in the future. Our days were filled with grand schemes and adventures, making the fields come alive with mystery and wonder. Every tree could become a ship, any little bit of water could be a boisterous sea and any animal could become a sea monster. Old machinery was magically turned into spaceships, airplanes or trains and bales of hay became castles, forts and hideouts.

Today, many children are robbed of this precious source of enjoyment when they are given the virtual world of video games. It somehow satisfies that need to dream, and yet at the same time, as scientists are slowly discovering, it has a debilitating and addictive effect on the child both mentally and physically. Children become less active, less intelligent and less healthy. And the mesmerizing, mind-numbing effects of that virtual world follow the child throughout his life. Studies have even proven that the brain, as a result of the flashing pictures on the screen, actually produces a drug that causes the body to go into a coma-like state. The research that illuminates this problem is easily accessible via the internet, yet there are few who know about it. Like many dangerous things in this world, there are those who, because they sell it, don't want anyone to know how dangerous it is.

Thus, it falls on the consumer to be responsible and intelligent about the choices he makes. Long ago I made the decision that I wanted my children to grow up with a healthy attitude toward play. Make-believe is an important step in a child's growth and can actually determine the kind of person he will be in his life.

As an adolescent I started to think about what I wanted to do with my life. As I grew, my dreams changed from sea monsters to senates, from pirates to pageants, from fields to families and I am still dreaming. “Where there is no vision the people perish.” is a well-known proverb. Ironically, in this day and age, there are images that bombard us constantly. We are exposed to visions of things that, if given a choice, we would not view. Our children can easily become addicted to games, images, programs and other media that can destroy them both mentally and physically. But the vision spoken of by the proverb, I believe is an inner vision. Without that inner vision, the people perish. Why? Because it is inner vision that motivates us to persevere through difficulty to achieve a goal. “Seeing” success in our minds is the first step to seeing success tangibly. So, today, instead of having a generation of motivated and successful people, we have a rising generation of video game addicts who see nothing, dream nothing and do nothing. There is an entire generation of people who still live with their parents and spend their days gaming because they don't want to live in the real world.

Childhood make-believe has the opposite effect on the minds of children. It makes them want to live and work in the world and make it better. People are always asking me why I do what I do when it is so hard and takes so much of my time. It's because I have a dream. When I was just a little girl the dream began to grow in me and now I am seeing the dream become a reality in my life. It makes me happy and it doesn't seem like work, only play, like when I was a child, only better. I'm still dreaming and still trying to accomplish my dreams. Those visions are what motivate me to get up every day and do something. Make sure that you give the children in your life the best chance for success they can ever get: give them the space, the time, and the chance to dream. And then show them how by doing it yourself. That's what makes the world go 'round.

No Tea

Let's face it; the Tea Party is over. I'm speaking of course, of the Revolutionary War. The war is over, the patriots have all gone home and the smoke has settled. No one now lives who was there when it happened and we, the descendants and adherents of those great men and principles, are all that is left of one of history's most amazing victories. But a funny thing is happening in this country. People from sea to sea are taking a second look at the state of affairs around them and have decided that they don't like what they see. As a result, they are taking to the streets with banners and signs, shouting that they want their country back, or that they want their freedom back, or something. Not that I have anything against freedom, but I have to ask myself, “What do they hope to accomplish with all this yelling, talking, picketing and flag waving?”

There is a way prescribed by the constitution and the laws of this land by which any change desired by the people can be accomplished. It is the way of caucus meetings, discussion, Robert's Rules of Order, campaigning, petitioning, elections and laws. For more than two centuries this method has worked in favor of the people, allowing them to be involved, elect their choice of leaders and to implement any desired outcome in the laws.

However, on one hand we have laws, meetings and elections and on the other we have widespread corruption among those who hold the reins of power. Some people might ask, “How can a person get involved and do any good at all, when the system has been ruined by dishonesty?” Human nature makes us want to do something about it, even if it's wrong. Part of me wants to stand up and shout with the others, break open a few boxes of tea, so to speak, and see what happens. But after a few seconds of contemplating the outcome of this action it becomes plain that even if I do nothing it would better than that.

I am not exactly a pacifist but I fail to see the point in bringing a bunch of mostly nice people together, yelling, screaming and demanding action when their target is a government who spends more on weapons than any other country in the world. It's almost as if they think they are some kind of Cinderella and their fairy godmother has arrived to rebuke the ugly step-sisters and send them packing, while Cinderella goes to the palace with the prince. Do they think that by waving the flag and calling “Foul!” they will be able to frighten any corrupt officials out of power and that they can subsequently just walk calmly into Washington and 'fix' everything?

In the first place, corruption didn't get there by accident. There are, it is true, dishonest individuals at every level of power in this country but they were put there by people who voted for them. It was all done openly, by rules and laws. Caucus meetings, held in small districts around the country, is where it begins. The people who are in power are only there because they were willing to go through the system step by step, vote by vote, meeting by meeting. Many good, honest people don't want to be bothered with the caucuses, the meetings and the system until things go wrong. Then they want a change right away. But no matter how loudly they complain, it doesn't ever happen. You might as well fight fire with oil as fight the system by complaining.

The men who, at it's founding, pledged their lives for this country also foresaw that there would be trouble keeping the freedoms they had gained as long as the people were uninvolved, ignorant or dishonest. This is, by the way, the country where the hand-out is a way of life for millions, where illiteracy rates (around 20%) look more like those of a third-world country and where “good business,” has replaced home-grown honesty. If you aren't doing something about these problems first, you aren't doing this country any favors. On top of that, it would be foolish to shake your little fist at a world power when your budget for arms is something like a hundred dollars. It might be compared to an ant fighting a Goliath. Any way you look at it, it's going to be bad for the ant.

I'm Not Complaining

People have a right to smoke. But, on every pack of cigarettes is printed, by law, a warning that use of that product will be harmful or fatal to the user. The practice of government's warning people against certain products or activities is a relatively recent one in our society. Religion has always had the job, but now the government has taken it over.

Most people who smoke already know that smoking is dangerous to their health. Even young people, at whom the warning is supposedly aimed, usually have a basic knowledge of what it can do to them but because they are young, foolish or just plain don't care, they go ahead anyway. Addiction soon follows and then there is no choice. So, why do they put the warning there if no one is taking the warning? Government warnings are not given to protect the consumer, but the producer. Ostensibly the government cares about people's health, but realistically it's their pocket book that motivates them to show warnings that they hope will be ignored. If they have warned a person of the danger, and that person chooses to partake of the dangerous substance anyway, the producer cannot be held responsible or liable in case the user becomes ill or dies. Also, the government has an interest in making sure that the producer stays in business because the producer pays heavy taxes on dangerous products.

So, we are baited, warned, trapped, fleeced and left to ourselves. Is it any wonder then, that the government now chooses to make health care mandatory? Just as you cannot drive a car legally without insurance, in order to 'protect' everyone against the uninsured driver, so now everyone will be forced to have insurance to 'protect' everyone against the people who choose to use harmful substances and cannot pay for the 'treatment' needed. Government wins again. First, they have their finger in the production pie, making big bucks by taxing those 'dangerous' products, next they have a finger in the warning pie by slapping huge fines on companies whose dangerous products do not comply, next they have a finger in the medical pie by forcing everyone to pay for the effects of the use of the products. This vicious cycle, in one form or another, has been a common practice among mobs, gangsters and corrupt governments since the beginning of man.

You might be asking yourself, why, if this has been going on forever, should I start complaining about it now? The short answer is that I am not really complaining. People have a right to do what they like with their own body. Governments have a right to do whatever the people allow them to do. At this point in history, given our background, we should already be fighting a civil war to win back our lost freedoms. The only reason we are not is because we took the bait in the first place. Once you take poisoned bait it's no use fighting the trap. From the moment government was allowed to become a 'charitable institution' and started paying for the 'general welfare' with money that was extracted by force from 'everyone', we, as a country, had taken the poisoned bait. In that moment, the responsibility for our lives, liberty and pursuit of happiness shifted, if only slightly, from the shoulders of the individual to the shoulders of the government. This was the stated goal of some, but certainly not the original goal of those who founded the plan for this country.

Today it is seen as a virtue for a government to 'care for' it's citizens. The problem lies in the basic fact that it simply is not their responsibility and they know it. They know that they cannot 'take care' of everyone. Realistically, how could they feed, clothe, house, and nurture everyone? Why would we want them to? Yet this has been the direction governments have taken since the beginning. And, not only have they attempted, by force, to extract enough money from everyone through taxes to pay for everyone's needs, but, they have also engaged in the practice of causing the damage for which they have extracted payment in advance. There is only one way to stop the cycle of abuse and it isn't to rise up against the government, start a civil war, or complain loudly to a congressman. The only way to end this insanity is to stop taking the poisoned government handout bait. That sounds easy, but there is a hitch. Not only is the bait poisoned, but it is also addictive. Many of our parents were addicts before us, making the choice almost impossible. So you see, it would do no good to complain

My Real World

I live in the 'real' world. When I was in school, everyone always talked about going out into the real world, finding a job, having a family, voting and things like that. Now that I live in this real world, there are a few things that I would like to say about it.

One thing about the real world that has always troubled me is the fact that it isn't about how nice you are, how good you are, how talented you are, or even how intelligent you are. When I was in school, I got the idea that if you were nice, good, talented and intelligent you would be automatically successful. I didn't really define success, but I was willing to believe this idea for the sake of getting through school. Now that I have finished school, have a family and vote, I have discovered that the real world is all about money. That doesn't mean that I think that everyone should drop everything and become greedy, but I am suggesting that we are kidding ourselves just a little bit if we think that the real world revolves around anything else.

The second thing that I have noticed is that those people, companies or groups who have the most money, have the most control. If as Lord Acton said, “power tends to corrupt and absolute power corrupts absolutely” then today's world is in a real world of hurt. There are so many people, companies and groups with money and power that one has difficulty in sorting out who is most dangerous. History sounded easier with it's tyrants and kings. At least the people knew who the oppressor was, even if they couldn't do anything about it. We not only can do nothing about it, but we don't know who the enemy really is. This makes the real world a very confusing and frustrating place.

Next on my list of things about the real world is the funny way people have of speaking condescendingly to and about students in a school when it comes to 'real'. They say something like, “Just wait until you get out into the real world and you have to make a living.” The student most likely is thinking that if anything is worse than what he has to go through in school, he isn't going to stick around for it. From my perspective, the schools are very real places, with real difficulties. When was the last time you were beaten to a pulp by a gang at your work, or assaulted in the bathroom by someone, or were made to fill requirements for five or six different bosses in the same day, all day, every day for nine months out of the year? The fact is that students find the 'real' world of school so bad that suicide rates have skyrocketed in the past few years. That sounds awfully real to me.

My earlier suggestion that money is the most important thing in the real world is by no means a cynical one. I have simply realized that this world which we call 'real' is of, by and for money. There is nothing you can do here in the real world without it. In school, we teach the kids to 'be smart', 'get good grades', 'listen to your teacher', 'go out for sports', and 'be your best'. But when they get into the 'real' world they discover that no one really cares about any of that. So what if you were the best point guard in the state. If that doesn't translate into money, it was all for nothing.

Now, I'm not saying that this is the way it should be, I'm only saying that this is the way it is. You can talk all you want about getting an education, but when it comes right down to it, it's all about how much money you are going to make when you get it. Unfortunately, that reward can go to anyone with enough guts to do whatever it takes to get the money. You don't have to be smart, or good, or talented. You just have to want the money.

But I don't believe in the 'real' world any more. In my world, it isn't all about money. Many people have tried to persuade me that money is what I should be looking for, money is what I need, money will solve my problems and money will bring happiness. I'll grant you that we do need food, clothing and shelter, but money? You can't eat it or wear it. It certainly doesn't make you happy. It is a burden when you have it, and it tempts one to be avaricious. No, money is not what it is all about. In the real world, you have to be true to money if you want to succeed. But in my real world I say with Shakespeare: “To thine own self be true, and it must follow, as the night the day, thou canst not then be false to any man.” I am still alive, I have succeeded, and I am happy in my real world.

Truth To Late

In school we are given a basic overview of history. Names, dates, places, battles, wars and nations all fall into the scope of our learning. Certain parts of history were extremely interesting to me because of my relationship to them. For instance, I was always fascinated with information about Pearl Harbor and WWII because my birthday is on December 7th. When I was old enough to understand, my mother told me that while she was in the hospital waiting to give birth to me she was listening to a radio broadcast about the 21st anniversary of the bombing of Pearl Harbor. In college I was even given the nickname of “Pearl” by some of my friends. Whenever I found information about that event in history I would always read it with special interest. It became the doorway through which I began to study history for myself, not just in school as an assignment.

One thing about Pearl Harbor and World War II that always puzzled me was how people who were ordinarily good and benevolent could be transformed into an enemy of such monstrous proportions that the rest of humanity would be forced to unite in destroying them. My mind could not grasp the idea of it. What happened, I would ask myself, to cause such seeming madness among so many? For years I searched in vain for a satisfying answer. Then just a month or so ago as I was reading yet another article about Pearl Harbor I discovered part of the answer to my question. The article was written as a result of the release of certain classified documents which had been recently unclassified. In other words, they were not dangerous any more. My curiosity was piqued as I began to read the familiar story of thousands killed in the surprise Sunday attack on Pearl Harbor in 1941.

The similarities between the story I knew and the one I was reading became fewer with each passing minute. In short, those classified documents revealed a startling picture of deceit that I hardly expected. Remember, these were not guesses but actual documents released through the freedom of information act. They tell the bald truth about this terrible event, but that truth is nothing like the one I had studied or heard. Then I understood. This country was the victim of propaganda. The people were made to think that Japan had attacked our borders unprovoked and with no warning. Those were the important facts to know in order to persuade people to accept another war. Now both of them had been proven false, but sixty-five years too late!

You can look at it this way: If you thought that your child had been attacked by your neighbor's dog and that your neighbor had deliberately allowed his dog to go into your yard while your child was at play, knowing that the dog was going to bite the child, you would feel justified in demanding retribution. No one would argue with you if you decided to take him to court to demand damages and have the dog put down. But suppose the child's older brother was angry at the child for breaking something of great value belonging to the older brother. Suppose you as his parent had shrugged it off as just something children do. The older brother, in a fit of rage decides to take revenge on both you and the child. He thinks of your neighbor with the guard dog. He decides to release the dog but tells you that your neighbor has done it. You believe his lie because he is your son. You do not even ask the neighbor because you never liked him anyway. The neighbor is sent to prison, the dog is killed and life goes on as before. Many years later the older brother is dying of cancer and on his death bed confesses to you that he was the one who released the dog. Pity has replaced anger and you forgive your son.

Is the truth so hard to come by or the lies so easy to believe that we would allow people to suffer and die for it? According to the newly released documents about Pearl Harbor that was exactly the case in 1941. Now it's 2010. War is constant. People demand it. People are angry. “Get them before they get us!” they say. And, by the way, our neighbor is still in prison.