Trying the incredulous

The following story I heard in my 20s, but it has stuck with me because it represents both the hope a person has in controlling what may happen next in life and the spontaneity that occurs when new opportunities present themselves because opportunities have to be nabbed as they come to us, before they have a chance to pass and go by the wayside.  The story is set in medieval times.

Two prisoners were passing time in a dungeon.  After several years the king sent a messenger to one of the prisoners to let him know that the next day had been set as his day of execution.  The prisoner insisted on a personal audience with the king as his last request.  The messenger reminded him that kings didn't visit prisoners of his sort.  The prisoner kept insisting.  The messenger told the prisoner he would relay the request but not to get his hopes up and to prepare for his last day on earth.

To everyone's amazement, the king came to visit the prisoner.  "What is worth my time for a dead man's last request?"  The king spoke sharply.  The prisoner replied, "King, I have a proposition.  If you will grant me a reprieve of one year, I will teach your horse to fly during that time.  Imagine what amazing feats would await your majesty if your horse could fly."  The king blurted, "You can't teach my horse to fly!"  The prisoner retorted, "You will never know if you execute me tomorrow how amazing your reign could be."  The king paused, twirled to leave, and commandingly motioned with his hand.  "Your wish is granted.  You have one year exactly."

The dungeon mate of the prisoner had been incredulous during the whole episode.  After the king left, he told his friend, "I can't believe what I just heard from you or the king!  You know that you can't teach the king's horse to fly!"  The prisoner replied, "You didn't expect me to make the request in the first place, and you certainly didn't expect the king to visit the dungeon of two low-life prisoners.  I would expect you to think that I couldn't teach the king's horse to fly.  A person can't tell what is going to happen next.  But even if I don't teach the king's horse to fly, I get one more year to live.  In the meantime, the king could die or the horse could die.  And who knows, I might just teach the horse to fly."

The tender side of family

An older sister is a friend and defender - a listener, conspirator, a counsellor and a sharer of delights.  And sorrows too.  ~Pam Brown

I am not "the eldest" among my siblings.  That office goes to my sister.  She always kept me in the dark, intentionally, when we grew up.  She would play board games and cards with her friends and cousins her age.  If I dared to play with them, my sister would get them all to gang up on me and put me out of the game the fastest so that they could enjoy themselves and I had to leave.  Yep, that's what sisters were for.

But, later in life, after I matured as a little brother, my sister actually listened to me.  I remember having more than one conversation with her about faith matters.  She listened kindly to all my questions or explorations, threw a few questions at me to make sure that I had thought through matters thoroughly, then would just accept me regardless of the strangeness of what I might have just said.

But the thing I remember most is her absolute kindness and tenderness upon hearing of  the illness of my son.  She was right there with me through the whole 13-month ordeal, making sure that emotions did not overtake me.  She should go to heaven just for that one pocket of time when she stood beside me.  

And in some future day, when parents are watching their posterity from another realm, she will be the most direct link to my parents because she soaked in their essences equally well before I was ever around.  To my sister.  (Clink of glasses.)

A brother's heart

“You can easily judge the character of a man by how he treats those who can do nothing for him.”  

Von Goethe

I have a brother two and half years younger than I am.  He is the epitome of kindness.  But, his main characteristic is generosity.  Oh, he applied himself well in school and took all the physics and other science and math courses he needed to get where he is today.  He graduated 16 ranks higher than I did in his graduating class from high school.  He blew the top off his college courses.  And he made all the right career moves at all the right times.  He would not know how to write a blog on the enigma of timing.  It has nearly always happened just right for him.  

But, through all his success, he never once gave in to greed.  He is still very generous.  Don't get me wrong, he knows how to invest for his future and do it rather well.  But, to others not of his rank, he shows nothing but grace, as if they were kings on the earth.  He still feels for the downtrodden.  He still discerns worthy causes from bad and finds ways to participate in or contribute to those worthy ones.  He still believes that at the core people are good.  He even treats his own brother and sister with kindness.  He is equally kind and generous to his own wife and children.

What a guy.  He has taught me to be more even-keeled when I would take a more cynical or clinical view of life.  He models a certain groundedness.  I thank him for his steadiness in life.  It's a good reminder to me who writes much  too often of the roller coaster effect of life.

Energy behind sharing

“Only as high as I reach can I grow,  only as far as I seek can I go,  only as deep as I look can I see,  only as much as I dream can I be.”

Karen Ravn

My mother knew how to run a household.  She had 3 kids so she had to arbitrate among us once in a while.  But most of the time she knew when to press and when to let up.  And, she was always the encourager for us 3.  If we had a ball game, she was there.  If there was a contest, she was there.  If we had a bad day, she gave us a good word for the day.  If we were fearful, she had the right words to get us past our fears.  She taught us to reach high, seek, look deep, and dream.  She was the mother others wanted, but that only 3 of us had.

She would tell us about herself so that we would know about our heritage.  She would tell us of what her high school years were like, what her family routines were growing up, what her college experience had been.  Of course, we saw first-hand how she handled her own children as an adult. She continued communicating when we grew up that heritage was important.  She has made sure we siblings all have pictures of each other and our children.  She is good at keeping both old and the living stories alive.

                               

I am fortunate to have such an encouraging mother, one who believes in you no matter what.  And I am fortunate to have someone who inspires you to keep the story going, knowing that heritage is the glue between past and future.  She was, still is, a great energy that helps light the night skies of her 3 children. 

Success usually has a key

“People seem not to see that their opinion of the world is also a confession of their character.” Emerson

My dad used to tell the story of a man who was asked by a stranger thinking of moving to his town whether or not he would like the town if he moved there.  The townsman answered, "What is the town like that you are moving from?" The stranger told the townsman that he was lonesome and bitter, and needed to move.  The townsman said to the stranger that he might want to look elsewhere because the same kind of people inhabited his town too.  Another stranger came to town and asked the same question of whether he would like the new town or not.  The same townsman answered the same way, "What is the town like that you are moving from?"  The man said he hated to leave it, that the people were happy and caring.  The townsman told the stranger he needed to move to this new town because it had the same kind of people in it.

It was nice to have had a father who told stories like this one.  He prepared me for the kind of attitude I needed in order to succeed.  

Feasting tonight

"All our words are but crumbs that fall down from the feast of the mind.”

Kahlil Gibran

I just love the wit and wisdom of Kahlil Gibran.  I fell in love with his Eastern thought in college and have used him off and on through the years.  This quote in particular has been my mantra for a long time.  It's important to hear what people are saying.  Not only can a person find what another is saying or not saying by listening closely, one can also enjoy the sweetness of another's soul by listening to her/his feast of the mind.  I usually look for deception when listening.  But I know that listening can also bring me joy, for part of what comes from people's feasts is dessert, words of refreshment, kindness, and goodness.  So, I toast the people who have given me joy, tonight, from the feasts of their minds.  I thank you.

Monuments

Monuments are usually built to commemorate important events or important people.  We see them in every large city in America and many smaller towns.  They tell what people have appreciated in a region, everything from military prowess to images of modern art.

We all build momuments in our own lives, too, to commemorate what has been important to ourselves.  We collects diplomas for our accomplishments and trophies, certificates, plaques, 24" X 36" portraits, memory boxes, special blankets or jackets, etc.  But, we need them.  Our memories are selective.  They need all the help they can get.

Monuments also are important because they remind us that we might have once been important in some effort or to someone.  We need that sense of belonging and self-actualization (to use Maslow's hierarchy of needs).  

And we make monuments in our minds of the people important to us or of the places we hope never to forget.  My college roommates and I still talk to each other periodically.  They are monuments in my life.  Lifelong friends from times when we lived in the same towns are monuments in my mind.  Memories of my children's big events are monuments.  Some monuments are new such as current, important relationships, and some are old like the monument I have of my parents.  But, we need them all so that we can stand up under the pressures of society that belittle us as human beings.  They help us get to the reward at the end of the race with a little dignity and enjoyment.

Tracking the rhetoric

Sometimes I wonder - What would happen if ...

 I find myself raising this question lately.  I never used to allow myself to entertain the question at all.  I considered it counter-productive.  I thought it would lead to regret.  Now I think that not asking it might lead to regret.  It's more proof that my perspectives or philosophies for living have changed as I have moved through life.  

So, being a language buff, I thought I had better analyze my own language over time to see if this change in philosophy is just a notion for me or if it is real.  So, I looked back to chart any changes I might find.  

One of the most reliable ways to do that is to look at the types of idioms that appear in one's speech or writing.  George Lakoff is one of the bright minds in linguistics who proffered the theories about the development of idioms in a language. I once got to be in a group of 12 people to hear him informally talk about his life's work and his recent work on idioms when he was flown to Arlington for a separate event.  He had some fascinating ideas.  They followed the Sapir-Whorf theory of language, the idea that language sets the parameters for one's world view to an extent.  (I have tried to make my own work prove up the Whorfian version [the less deterministic version] of that theory). Basically, Lakoff thinks that idioms contain the values of a society and that the person using the idiom shows alignment with those values if (s)he is not casting the idiom in a negative statement.  

So what did I find when I analyzed my own language?  Oh very definitely I have changed.   I once talked of comparing my life to my pool which was an eyesore at the time.  It was one of my first blogs in 2004.

"The pool in my back yard is in great need of maintenance. I plan to get to that in about 3 hours. In the meantime I have to look at the eyesore it has become in the middle of an otherwise nice back yard. My life at this time is analogous to the pool. Right now it is in a little disarray. Years I have worked on this part or that part of my life so that most of the time it is in decent working order. But today I don't see it that way. I plan to get to that also in about 3 hours." [November 6, 2004]

Since that writing, I have let the metaphoric 3 hours pass and have worked hard on the disarray mentioned, which had been a result of a temporary disorientation.  

A second finding was that I have traded a view of putting up with discontent for the idea of moving to what leads to satisfaction. I can see it in the language I have used.  A good example of this is from a recent blog, Out of the Ashes.  I wrote,

 "Life requires us to learn as we go, to rise from ashes, to experience metamorphosis after tragedy or failure."  

I would have never written that a decade ago because changing or metamorphosizing into something else would have represented instability.  That instability would have led to discontent.  But now, a statement like that represents sound reason. Why of course a person can take it upon himself or herself to enact change or reverse a direction based on experience and the need to be satisfied on life’s path. 

Two idioms come to mind, “Pay as you go,” and the idea of getting a “makeover,” even extreme makeovers.  The pay as you go idea would be applied to learning how life works and reflecting on that, but it is the same principle as in finance.   It’s no quantum leap to learn as you go.  The second idea of makeovers has a number of applications – cars, houses, money, diet, etc.  So, why not apply it to one’s philosophy for living.  And although there are references to change in my early blogs, the changes all referred to making sense of a jolt in life.  Life as a roller coaster kept coming out in those blogs.  Now the change references are focused, calculated, and sensible ("Life requires us...") as shown in the blog with the Phoenix allusion.

The enigma of timing

I watched a special on Einstein a couple of nights ago. At one point before his career took off, he had taken a great deal of time to prepare and outfit two teams of people with telescopes to catch one of those once-in-a-decade type of lunar eclipses to prove the general theory of relativity he was working on. This attempt failed for both teams due to the interruption of World War I. The German team was detained by the Russians; the American team was found and told to disband and go home.  He was disheartened about this, but continued believing in his theory.

About 3 years later, he was separated from his wife, so he spent a lot of time alone. He spent some of that time reviewing his theory. Lo and behold, his pet theory had a flaw. His main math equation was wrong. He spent some time revising his math. Finally, he thought his equation was ready to present to the world again. When he did publish his general theory of relativity, the Nobel prize was not far behind. Lucky for him, he had a failed attempt at proving his theory before it was ready. He would not have likely had a career had he published when first planned. His math would not have stood the test of scrutiny by peers. The unforgiving nature of the scholarly world would likely not have allowed him to recover his standing.

I don't always understand the timing of things. I just know that I'm ready sometimes for things to happen before they actually do. But I take a lesson from the pages of Einstein's life. Sometimes I get lucky like Einstein when events don't happen when I first think they should only later to have those events happen when I am better ready. Sometimes, though, I am left to wonder why some things never happened. And sometimes I wonder if events are waiting for me to make them happen.

Timing is a mystery to me. But I take hope when I see how the events in Einstein's life played out. I should be so fortunate.

Out of the ashes

One of the most popular stories of the ancient world is about a bird called the Phoenix.  It lived 500 years at the end of which it would build a nest, enter, and wait for the sun to burn the nest and itself to a pile of ashes.  However, a worm would enter right before the sun would burn the nest so that it could drink the juices of the Phoenix as it burned.  Then, from the ashes, the worm that had been transformed into a new Phoenix from dinking the juices of the old bird as it burned would rise and fly into the air to live another 500 years. The cycle would repeat.

I can see why the story has circulated from very ancient times.  It's so true of life.  Even though we may fail many times, we have the ability to rise again from ashes and succeed the next time because we learn from our mistakes.  We get better because of our mistakes.  It's a paradox, but it has been proven again and again since time immemorial.

For this reason, I listen to the older people that I respect and learn from their failure stories.  I pay attention to my own past so that I can learn from the mistakes made.  Then I can rise again (fortunately it does not take 500 years for this to occur), wiser this time, and fly the skies once more.  Life requires us to learn as we go, to rise from ashes, to experience metamorphasis after tragedy or failure.  We rise again from flames that have forged our character.

Crashing and burning

Michael Jordan did a 30-second commercial for Nike several years ago. (Clicking on the orange title above will take you to the YouTube version of this commercial). He was on his way to the locker room. His voice narrated the commercial. As he walked from his car to the locker room, he spoke the following:

I've missed more than 9,000 shots in my career.

I've lost almost 300 games.

26 6imes I've been trusted to take the game winning shot—and missed.

I've failed over and over and over again in my life.

And that is why I succeed.

Success from failure is not a new idea. But for me I know it's true. Most of the successes that I have had have come from times in which I have muffed something, been ill prepared, or have otherwise been out of focus. But, memory is good. It allows me to tweak, adjust, refine, prepare, reemphasize, and refocus. It's the "two steps backwards, three steps forward" philosophy (a favorite book of mine from when I was 24).

There is at least one person in the world that thinks my writing is incomprehensible. But to the extent that I can write, I attribute that ability to a time period when I wrote for an underground campus newspaper on my college campus. During that time period, I had to practice succinctness and application of others' thoughts to a theme. Years later, I had a chance to review those articles and got a good laugh from them. They were so sketchy. I had to miss 9000 shots, lose 300 games, and lose games because I failed to make game winning last shots to get where I am today.

There's so much truth in failing over and over and over again to succeed.

Glancing rays of sunshine

I love listening to the hills speak. The depth of their thoughts guide my steps. But it is now time to leave. My eyes are clearer, my path straighter. Thanks to the lake for slaking my soul. Thanks to the cedars for whispering what is important. Thanks to the rolling hills and occasional meadow for showing me grace, beauty and truth.

Now I have to depart for a while. But, I take with me the insight given by the rays of sunshine glancing off the white rocks of the rim of the bluff across the lake from where I have lodged. Now I know the lesson of soaking up each ray of laughter and enjoyment glancing from particular white rocks placed in the rim of my life.

Oh yeah, much has changed

The last couple of days I have tried to stomp around in the area where my father grew up. Yes, the land has changed somewhat. Roads exist now where none had existed before or where only rutted wagon wheels had passed. There's a lake through the land now where only a river had snaked its path before. The hills are still wooded, but a great number of houses have carved out their niches among the cedars that weren't around many years ago. Of course, all the modern conveniences of cell towers and electric poles now dot the countryside where none had been present when dad grew up.



Dad used to talk a little about taking two-day hikes and spending the night on the tops of hillsides. He spoke of tending a mule that walked around a pole to crush sorghum so that he could stoke a hot fire to make black strap molasses in the heat of midsummer days. He told of killing squirrels with slingshots and cooking them for meat. He mentioned the two-day trips taken in a covered wagon to the closest town with a store so they could buy clothes, shoes, or feed. They would camp out overnight and eat, play, and sing around the campfire before going into town the next morning.



Oh yeah, much has changed. But, when I walk the grassy lake shore next to what used to be the river, I can imagine the other era. I can still see what it was like because some of the ancient landmarks have not completely vanished, and I can feel the older spirit around the wooded hillsides that still exist today for not every hilltop has a new house on it nor every road an asphalt top.

And I talk to my dad's hillsides and lakes and grassy meadows full of haze and sunlight and the occasional rain storm. I start by posing some circumstance in my life and answering, "I don't know." Then I listen for the advice that I always get. Dad was always right when he offered wise words before he left this world. So, I listen to him now in his place. It always modifies my thinking or spurs me to needed action.

So, I'll quote my dad as I leave. Although he would always say this about going to church, I'll apply it to coming to his place. "It was good to have been here." I am leaving Dad's place this time with a very clear vision of my path ahead.

The here and now

I love sitting at the window that overlooks the lake—day or night. It is a mesmerizing scene. During the mornings the blue haze settles over the hills and valleys and lakes. In the day the panorama takes in all kinds of activity: skiing, camping, enjoyment of less hectic living. At night, the lights are simply beautiful. They flicker, showing that someone is tending the hearth at the houses they represent.

I mostly don't stay at the lake. I spend my working days elsewhere. So, when I am at the lake, I know the time is limited. It becomes my here and now. When I am working, the lake serves as a great memory of tranquility and what is right with the world. It makes me want to have more here and now moments of peace and joy. But I want to exchange that memory for the reality.

I guess all of us have here and now moments that occur infrequently but that keep us going for the long haul. Although it is important to recognize that special, short-lived moments can't constantly be a person's reality, it is more important to have something or someone that provides a spark for the long haul; otherwise, a certain crusty staleness sets in. I'm thankful for the lake and those around me who keep me vibrant, alive, peaceful and joyful during this season when the consummate gift of peace was given 2000 years ago and in every other season of the year.

A flashthought for daily toil

Keats' Ode to a Grecian Urn comes to mind tonight because it speaks of the eras that have gone by. We as humans have to just wonder what happened in that bygone time. We see the vase (urn), but we can only fantasize as to its real use or what it saw in the human activity that surrounded it. So we ascribe to it only its beautiful attributes and highest uses and best possible human activity surrounding it. The last stanza represents the idea.

O Attic shape! fair attitude! with brede
Of marble men and maidens overwrought,
With forest branches and the trodden weed;

Thou, silent form! dost tease us out of thought
As doth eternity: Cold Pastoral!
When old age shall this generation waste,
Thou shalt remain, in midst of other woe
Than ours, a friend to man, to whom thou say'st,
'Beauty is truth, truth beauty,—that is all
Ye know on earth, and all ye need to know.'

But even in our own time, we should probably adopt the philosophy of the last two lines. When our daily human activity is boiled away from the daily toil, what should our memory be of our environment—beauty, truth. Fortunately, I get to boil my day away at night when I am by myself or engaged on the computer, and I find the layer at the bottom is beautiful and truth-filled. That equals joy to me. Moments filled with joy. It's all I need to know.

Moving way past the past

Still with Emerson tonight. I thought I would move to one of my favorite passages from Self-Reliance.

The civilized man has built a coach, but has lost the use of his feet. He is supported on crutches, but lacks so much support of muscle. He has a fine Geneva watch, but he fails of the skill to tell the hour by the sun. A Greenwich nautical almanac he has, and so being sure of the information when he wants it, the man in the street does not know a star in the sky. The solstice he does not observe; the equinox he knows as little; and the whole bright calendar of the year is without a dial in his mind. His note-books impair his memory; his libraries overload his wit; the insurance-office increases the number of accidents; and it may be a question whether machinery does not encumber.

I have loved this quotation since I got out of college several years ago. I love its premise. And it is more true today than ever. The part in red summarizes the whole quotation. I wish that people would allow themselves not to be stuck in a world that can't keep up anymore. When I am away from my phone, I feel lost anymore. I used to cherish the times when I left my house and didn't have to hear the phone ring. I could escape the land line for a couple of hours. Now it is different. I left my phone on my desk for 30 minutes today and missed an important text message. I hated the fact that I forgot to take my phone with me. Now with twitter, blogging, texting, googledocs, simultaneous communication has become so important. Sometimes I receive pictures instead of text. Most of the time those are worth a thousand words of text. So I miss leaving my phone behind anywhere.

No, I haven't lost anything from the past. I have traded what was important then for what is important now. If anything I enjoy life so much more by communicating more frequently and in more ways with those I care about deeply. Others can look back sadly and with nostalgia remember those golden days of solitude and quiet and slower paces. But I enjoy the pictures I am sent of others' lives, of texts with LOL in them, of internet connections to read someone's blog when I am traveling, of email that dings me for a timely message of personal thought. Just love it, and HAVE NOT lost former abilities, but have built on them.

No I can't tell you stars in the sky. I can't read the sun dial. I have completely forgotten about walking anywhere (unless it is for exercise only, so I'm not really walking to get anywhere). Google has definitely replaced my memory altogether. Somehow, that's not bad. And I am one happy person to be able to share life with those around me better than any generation before me. I'll make that trade everyday of the week.

It's all about the curve

Just in the mood for quoting Emerson tonight. No particular reason except that he represents the American spirit of thought frequently. The one below is from his essay on Self-Reliance. It tells me how to approach viewing the character of a person. And it is a great reminder of how to view myself when I get stuck on one petty aspect of how some action or reaction fits the big picture. I just need to see the curve of the sphere. If I like what I see, I can leave it alone. If not, I go back into exploring more exactly what inequalities of the Andes I didn't like and make some adjustments.

I suppose no man can violate his nature. All the sallies of his will are rounded in by the law of his being, as the inequalities of Andes and Himmaleh are insignificant in the curve of the sphere. Nor does it matter how you gauge and try him. A character is like an acrostic or Alexandrian stanza; — read it forward, backward, or across, it still spells the same thing.

Rocks were cheering if people weren't

I have read two blogs today - both about speaking out. One blog, by my cousin's husband, was about the triumphal entry of the Son of Man into Jerusalem. As the crowds cheered Him on his way into Jerusalem, the Pharisees asked him to tell the people not to hail him as someone from the Highest Heavens. The reply was, "If they kept quiet, the stones along the road would burst into cheers!" The other blog, by a talented, trusted, and treasured colleague, was about counting on people to speak out, to raise their voices for others in time of need because one of our team had been ignored by a superior and ridden over rough-shod without regard for the valuable contributions this person brings to the team.

In the case of the Son of Man, the rocks themselves would have broken into praises had the people's tongues been quelled. But in the case of my treasured colleague, no stones spoke. My colleague heard silence. That is a very, very lonely place to be. My heart cried out immediately after the fact, but it was after the fact. Words are hard to hear when they come late.

I have no doubt that for my trusted and treasured friend the rocks were cheering even if the team wasn't. I truly hope that my trusted and treasured friend will hear the songs that have been sung, are being sung still by the rocks along the way. And maybe the two blogs I read today will spur me to find my voice more quickly so that the rocks won't have to carry the tune.

What's impeccable about timing?

Timing is everything. I have been on both sides of this coin. I have been spot on many times. But, my track record is not flawless. I have been spot wrong on just as many occasions.

One has to learn to read signs. That's a bit of a challenge. But, it is a teaching even from the Good Teacher. He encouraged us to learn a lesson from the fig tree. "When its buds become tender and its leaves begin to sprout, then summer is near." Ah-h-h. Reading signs. I'm good at several things, but reading signs is not one of them.

I originally left Dallas to come to Midland 28 years ago. The move was to partake in the oil boom of the late 1970s and early 1980s. 6 months after moving to Midland, the oil boom turned to oil bust. My timing was off. I had to find other means of employment shortly after a move. But, I've had good timing too. Teaching in a college is hard to get to do around Midland. However, at the time I got an adjunct appointment, there was a need for white male instructors. Just my luck. That was a 10-year run.

My whole track record is up and down like that. And, through it all, my record really hasn't been that great. This is where I reread someone like the Master and think, "surely it is as easy as seeing the coming of summer from the fig tree!" I don't know. Some say events are destined. That's what appears in great films and in great literature. I don't know. That seems a bit stout. Some say we control what happens to us. I don't know. Control is illusive if I have learned anything about life.

I guess I'll continue to ponder the issue. I think it really is a matter of reading buds and leaves and predicting summer.

Like a walk along the oceanside

I have received conflicting messages througout my life.

"An eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth."

"If someone slaps you on the left cheek, turn the other to him also."

"Look out for yourself. No one else will."

"Look at the flowers of the field. They don't work or try to live... and yet they are taken care of."

"Plan your work. Work your plan."

"Take no thought for tomorrow. Tomorrow has enough worries of its own."

"Beware of strangers."

"Whoever gives a cup of water to the least of my brothers, gives it to me."

"Live one day at a time."

"Who among you goes into battle without first counting the cost."

I guess there is a lot of wisdom there - both worldly and spiritually. But, I have to adopt a world view of some sort that does not teeter back and forth between principles. Conflict doesn't get a person very far down the road if it lasts a long time. So, I find practical applications of a mixture of the principles above, remove their points of conflict, ply them into my fabric as I mature, and live contentedly and at peace with the Maker and humanity. Contentment and peace, after all, are gifts for us to enjoy with those who join us on our daily paths. May it always be so.