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.

Only occasionally and at different times

My mother gave all of her children a puzzle two years ago called One Tough Puzzle. It's tough all right. It only has 9 squares with two possible interlocking pieces on two of the sides of each square that fit only one adjacent piece corectly. The toughness comes because it has over 300,000 combinations. I have probably spent about 3 hours trying to get one of my combinations to make the pieces all fit. No luck yet.




I suppose the same fascination with trying to figure out the puzzle parts with so many combinations is the one I have for language and the way it is generated in the first place and then used by people in the second place. It fascinates me. My best friend's wife has a different theory on my fascination with language, but that's material for a different blog. I know how much of language is structured, but I haven't been able to fit all the pieces together for the perfect theory. No luck yet.

Although I have not figured out the combination of all of life yet (no luck there either), I have on occasion been able to find the combinations for some beautiful friendships and mentors that have helped along the journey through life. My Greek professor in college was a person of unsurpassable patience with a passion for passing on the secrets of an ancient tongue. I got what he was about. He passed that on to me. I had two college roommates with whom I still keep in contact that for some reason hit on all cylinders with me then and now. I have a friend in a town nearby who used to live where I do. We are fast friends and take annual trips together, the two of us. We "get each other." I also have family. We grew up together. We share DNA. We know each other, resemble each other (and like each for that matter). And recenly I made a tremendous friend who epitomizes grace. I so very much enjoyed his way of working with people and making them know that they were important. He is in ill health now with not much longer to live. But we hit it off from the very beginning.

Philosophers and literary writers alike have written about friendships from time immemorial. It's all about the times when that one in 300,000 chance comes together that makes for a single strand made of two cords. Even though the phenomenon is as old as humans are, it's still a very beautiful thing to see and experience.

My Greek professor died many years ago. I still share his mission, his passion. My roommates and I talk on occasion by phone and visit about every third year. We still enjoy every second of each other's available time for those visits. My close friend and I look forward to our annual trips of sharing again in each other's life. My family and I get together 3 times a year, but it is so easy to pick up where we left off. And my recent friend is not healthy enough to speak for very long at a time by phone, but in a few words we share our bond.

There is a particular beauty in coming across the one in a 300,000 chance, no matter when that happens on our journeys.

Semantics of superlatives

In the realms of math and language there are two terms that point to the same idea, that of something being reiterated to take meaning to a higher level than before. In math that is the idea of exponents; in language it is the idea of superlative degree.

Good-Better-Best is maybe the most common example of a superlative. Good is the plain word. Better is the comparative degree between two items, and best is the superlative degree, meaning that it is the highest form from many parts of whatever is being compared. Bad-Worse-Worst is another common example. However, in many words, the comparative form of an adjective takes an -er on the end of it, the superlative an -est, such as large-larger-largest. For most multisyllabic words, more is the comparative marker, most is the superlative, as in beautiful-more beautiful-most beautiful.

Not all words are adjectives, so not all words can have a comparative or superlative degree. Only words that describe action or nouns can show superlatives. In some cases, there are stand-alone words that show superlative degree without having a comparaive degree or a regular word to derive itself from, such as the word favorite. Supposedly, a person can have only one favorite of the same object even though Americans many times use favorite in common usage to refer to more than one item.

I only bring this up because I was thinking about the use of the word love today. (I know love as a verb doesn't have a superlative, but I'm developing a new concept here). I hear it often from my mother and frequently from my daughter. And hopefully, that will stay intact. I hear the word love a lot in other contexts too, like "I love peanut butter and chocolate," and I love driving on the back roads of rural areas." So, since love is such a regular or generic term, perhaps there is a superlative form of love. So, looking around the language environment, I notice a word used for deities and very young children that just might serve the purpose. Women look at babies or young children and say how adorable they are, or they use the verb form and say that they adore those babies. The same word is used for deities to show a heightened form of respect (and love possibly).

I think if I were to ever hear the word adore used for me as an adult, I would notice its special and superlative character as if it is saying "special" to the third power in some particular way. I would, of course, want to respond in kind if I had used the more generic term previously with that person because of the high honor that is embedded in the word.

Flatlining

Tonight I have very strong thoughts of a cloudy, cloudy night and of a paradise lost. On one hand, someone very special offers me a song of peace from one of my favorite groups on a night overspread by thunderous clouds of rain (metaphorically speaking). On the other hand, someone so very special, with a paucity of words, leaves me standing amidst the inextinguishable flames of the abyss.

I would love to have peace tonight. Instead, I am "somewhere in the middle... somehwere between the wrong and the right, somewhere between the darkness and light... somewhere between the safety of the boat and the crashing of the waves, somehwere between a whisper and a roar."

I would love to look forward to joy-filled moments. Instead, I muster contentment in all things, quoting from someone else who mustered contentment in the middle of pain. In Milton's opening scene of Paradise Lost, having been cast from heaven and waking up in the fiery abyss, Satan explains his happiness at such an abject moment, "The mind is its own place. And in itself/ Can make a Heaven of Hell a Hell of Heaven./ What matter where, if I still be the same."

But, I should be seeing the reality of my current state. The Casting Crowns song should offer peace just as that someone special said: "Lord I feel you in this place and I know You're by my side/Loving me even on these nights when I'm caught in the middle."

And I should look beyond my fallen condition to not just happiness amidst pain, but to happiness from having heavenly qualities, as my special friend has pointed out. Milton offers happiness in his last book of Paradise Lost:" To whom (Adam) the angel last replied.../ Add virtue, patience, temperance: Add love/... Then wilt thou not be loathe/To leave this Paradise (earth), but shalt possess/ a Paradise within thee, happier far."

So, I take the peace that this very special person has offered and mix it with the contentment that comes even without the anticipation of truly joy-filled moments but of paradise within. Then, and only then, can I lay down my head and allow sleep to stop my heart from painful arrest.

Clear is better

Glasses can be necessary items if one wants to see clearly. But they are optional. A person can choose to wear them or not wear them. Even if the initial choice for glasses is made, the pair will need updating. If the same pair is kept, they eventually will do no good since vision changes. The ever-present aging process requires that adjustment be made on a regular basis. Otherwise, 20/20 begins to blur.

I know people who defy this principle when it is applied metaphorically to human nature. They feel that they are truer to human nature if they don't change because the divine nature never changes in their view. The divine nature doesn't have the same kind of aging problem, so that needs to be left out of the equation.

Simply put glasses help us see without leaves on trees being blurred, without details at a distance being lost, print up close being out of focus, color distortions being present, or shapes having irregular outlines. Likewise, there are checkpoints or junctures for reconsideration scattered throughout life. Every 7 years is one such juncture (the "seven-year itch" is even an idiom in English). Every decade is another. Ask anyone turning 20, 30, 40, 50, or 60, and (s)he will say how hard it is to turn that age beginning the next 10 years of her or his life. After trauma is another marker. Following a milestone accomplishment is also a time of measuring what came before, what is coming after. There are other checkpoints. Adjustments after checkpoints are optional, of course; it just depends on how well a person wants to enjoy the vision of life after a checkpoint. Some opt to enjoy, some don't. I've done it both ways and definitely prefer clear vision to poor.

Shifts, but with reason

Deer in Old English used to mean any animal, not a specific animal. Wench in Old English used to mean merely a serving girl and had no adverse connotation. A Jack of any suit in a deck of cards used to be called the Knave of that suit. Dice were nicknamed Bones since they were at one time carved from bone. Some English words have come and gone in their meanings or existence because the users of English have changed their preferences for words over time.

In language the phrase "over time" brings out new perspective about the words being used. 100 years ago, the word computer was not even coined. 100 years before that the word airplane had not been coined. 100 years before that revolver did not exist. We could go on.

Over time people change their preferences in life as well. They adjust by seeing a bigger picture based on accumulated knowledge or by narrowing to a finer adjustment of detail. Sometimes their values change from being preferred to dropping out altogether or from not having a value to developing one. Sometimes insights or objects of affection are not encountered earlier in life but appear for us later in life.

I wish that people could more easily adapt their circumstances in life. People have more roots than most words do, more expectations placed on them by society. But, as people change over time, there should be the flexibility that words have in language. Keep the words that still fit, drop the ones that don't, coin new ones as the need arises, or adjust the connotation when the environment changes.

Reliance on rhythms

Edgar Allen Poe is one of America's best loved poets for a reason. His poetry contains allusions to Greek mythology and are just chock full of melody, rhythm, and alliteration - all the ingredients that make poetry loveable.

That's a point I would like to make about life. It's full of rhythms, melodies, and reiterations (which is the same thing as alliteration but under a different non-literary name). The saying in our language that captures this idea is "the ebb and flow of life." My ebbs and flows are always worth looking back on. I always learn something new when I do that, either about how an event played out or how/what friends around me said or did. Sometimes I look back long range, sometimes very short range, but always I learn something.

One rhythm I have learned about by looking back is the rhythm of discerning shadows from reality. It's just one of the rhythms that beats loudly over the years. I have made mistakes in trusting shadows before. That's why reflection on those moving, illusive happenings yields better judgment. These days, I am surer of reality, knowing when to let shadows just float on by. I know a carpe diem moment when I see one.

I want to end with the musical, rhythmical, alliterative last two verses of Annabel Lee by Poe. It's got that perfect flavor to it. The portion in red has a particular literary satisfaction to me. And even though it is sad in content (Poe is grieving a lover taken from him), its fascinating and melodic literary ingredients leave you with a smile on your face, hope in your heart, spring in your step, and a thirst for more Poe(try). And those are the same rhythms in life people learn from and live for — the sad events (sometimes) that leave us with hope, smiles, and springs of life.

But our love it was stronger by far than the love

Of those who were older than we —

Of many far wiser than we —

And neither the angels in heaven above,

Nor the demons down under the sea,

Can ever dissever my soul from the soul

Of the beautiful Annabel Lee:

For the moon never beams, without bringing me dreams

Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;

And the stars never rise, but I feel the bright eyes

Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;

And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side

Of my darling — my darling — my life and my bride,

In her sepulchre there by the sea,

In her tomb by the sounding sea.

For the ones who fill my life with contentment

Wealthy people pay millions for a view that I see from my backyard. In a 180 degree panorama, I can see 100 miles in the distance over 3 ridges of mountains. The vantage point is from one of the highest hillsides in the whole area, so it overlooks a valley with a lake snaking through it. In the mornings, fog often shrouds the valley. At dusk the ridges on the far side of the lake are blue with a haze hiding their distant details. At night, lights twinkle showing where houses dot the shore. Part of the lake in my view snakes a course where small grass peninsulas jet out into the lake. The other part of the lake splashes against sheer cliff walls of 50 feet or more. All of this in my 180 degree view from my backyard.

The average house on the far side of lake on top of the cliffs, nestled among the thick cedar woods, cost 1.5 million dollars, the houses above the grass bars about 500,000. Every house is beautiful and ostentatious. In the summer, those people often walk down their cliff steps to their boats sitting in the wet locks and dock below their houses.

I am reminded that even though I do not have the millions of dollars of my southlake friends, I have the million-dollar view that their money can't buy. My backyard is overlooking theirs. Very few views in the area rival the one I have day in and day out. Even the name of the road running to the side of my backyard bears my last name.

I am struck and awe-struck that my investment for such a view is minimal. If I spent everyday for the rest of my life mulling over life as it happens while taking in the view from my backyard, I would certainly be more grateful, happier, and less focused on what comes to me as a result of the work of my own hands. When the sun sets and turns the lake the same color as the orange skies above and the blue peaks of the far ridges begin fading to black with the ensuing darkness, when the green cedar woods waft their sweet bark aroma across the entire valley and up the hillsides, then I know that the Maker of this truly ostentatious beauty has given me the gift of contentment.

When I leave my backyard this time perhaps this happier, more content, more grateful state can stay with me a little longer and be passed to those who fill my life and cross my path.

Flickering desire

As I stare at the lights flickering along the shoreline of the distant cliffs, I find myself thinking how uncomplicated life really is. It's a matter of camping your life where your desires are and fitting the rest of the world into the camp. There the soul has passion, the heart is content, and happy, and the head thinks clearly, knowing that all is well.

My camp has been far away from my desires for almost 3 decades. But, there will be a new rodeo to come to town, and that will certainly lead to setting up camp where soul, heart, and head will flicker in rhythm like the lights along the shoreline of the distant cliffs.

Snoozing, losing, and practicing

Growing up playing basketball in a 5A high school (4A was the highest designation at the time) made me a little edgy. Someone was always pushing to get my spot. I started every game from elementary up until my senior year in high school when after the first few games someone actually pushed me from my position. During the rest of the senior year it was a game-by-game decision on whether I would start or be 6th man for the game. If the coach needed my skill set, I started. If the coach needed the other person's skill set, he started. I always got playing time, no problem, but starting was prestigious.

That idea of pushing oneself carried over into my adult endeavors. I always knew that others were pushing to take my place, so I tried to always do well whatever the endeavor. Even in blog writing, I try to convey ideas in a manner that is polished. There are millions of other blogs on blogger.com to read. The second mine is boring or incomprehensible, oops, I just lost a reader.

I guess the point of this being edgy idea because someone else is always pushing, is that I have to practice, practice, practice to be any good at something. In basketball, every weeknight excluding game nights, I went through 3-hour practices. In my adult endeavors, I have gone to some pretty great lengths to be at the top of the "game" I'm playing at the time. And even when I teach others to write, they have to learn the cardinal principle of writing: you never write it right first. Revision is necessary - always, for even the smallest of thoughts. The first thought out is the rawest thought out. Wit may be a little different, but people will let you know if you're witty or not. For all others, revise until you are blue in the face.

It seems as I look back on life, that much of it takes practice, that is, repetitions beyond the normal activity to be good at discerning the nuances that are happening. When my kids grew up, it was sometimes hard to catch the exact moment of their moving from one stage to the next. Sometimes I caught it, sometimes I didn't. When the job markets changed, sometimes I was just in time for a good job, at other times I missed even if just slightly. When friends would move away, sometimes I would be able to follow them to their new destination and life in spirit and in continued communication, sometimes not.

One of the principles I have found to be true with every venture in life is "If you snooze, you lose." And I have lost some big ones. And I am very sorry for that. But, for some of us, life is long enough for the next rodeo to come to town. Preparation is key. The Master Teacher even corroborated this idea in his telling a story of bride and groom getting married later than expected. The bride's maids that were still ready, awake, and watching for the ceremony to happen got to attend the wedding. Those who had fallen asleep and let their torches burn out got dismissed from the wedding. They weren't allowed to ride the coat tails of the others into the wedding.

Whenever the next rodeo comes to town, and who really knows when life will bring that to a person, I hope to be on top of my game. I've practiced discerning those nuances of life a little more than I used to.

Life, rock, and sand

The Gladiator was a good show for a number of reasons, one of them being that it shows that life will take you in directions totally unexpected and for which you have not been prepared. The show opened in Northern Italy or Gaul. The general of all the northern Roman troops, Maximus, woke up that frigid morning completely in charge of his own life and that of every Roman soldier under him, several legions. All he had to do was give a command and his minions would carry out the order.

The general didn't know and was not prepared for what would happen by day's end. That same night, the emperor's son, who detested the Roman General, murdered his father, ordered the general killed, and sent the Praetorian Guard to slay every member of the general's family. Survival for himself was the general's first move; rushing to check on his family was his second. He survived, but his family did not. He was totally undone. He experienced unrequited anger and disorientation for a while, but then did what it took to stay alive in this world.

He ended up being a gladiator as the movie title suggests. He was already very skilled in warfare. He would never have had the title "general" bestowed on him if he had not have been. So, the former general made an outstanding gladiator. This made his trail lead back to Rome, from which he had been banished, but no one knew that Maximus was other than a good gladiator.

Finally, he was to fight for sport in front of the most bloodthirsty of all crowds, the people of Rome, in the Colliseum. What an honor, if there was honor to be had in Rome. And, the irony of ironies happened. The emperor who had ordered his general of all the north to die would be watching the match. The general/gladiator did not know and was not prepared for what happened by day's end. At the end of the major fight of the day, the emperor asked the champion gladiator for his name. The general mocked the emperor by proudly shouting his full Roman name, Maximus... and his title, General of All the Armies of the North.

This mockery, of course, led to a challenge with the emperor himself. The fight ended in both their deaths encircled symbolically by the Praetorian Guard. Just that morning the general of all the armies of the north turned champion gladiator never dreamed he would avenge his family's death, restore his own good name and honor, and die in the line of duty, all in one fell swoop.

Many a life has mirrored the general's in this show. One moment you have success, the next you experience the doldrums. One minute you have temporary control of your life, the next that control is stripped, and you are sent to the depths of the sea. One day you firmly grasp your destiny, the next everything near and dear no longer can be your reality, and your heart is ripped from your chest. Even if there is an avenging moment, it is not sweet because you lose in the deal too.

There are certain rhythms in life. But the overall course you chart is not according to a rhythm. One of the sayings in English is, "Don't become adrift in the sea." Well, I'm not sure that's possible. If you're on the sea, you will hit uncharted waters at some point or several points. It's just a matter of whether your survival skillls see you through to the end. Every friend I have has hit uncharted waters. I have watched to see how (s)he has survived. They all have the scars to prove their survival. And they all take new directions in life soon afterward.

I suppose that is why the Good Teacher gave the illustration about the person who builds a foundation on sand or rock. I have certainly built structures on sand before. They lie in ruins from collapse. I have also built on rock. Those values are still in place. My path may have new direction, but the foundational values are intact. So, here's to the adventures of life, rock, and sand.

Moveable spots

It's always fascinating to watch the science, history, and Nat Geo channels. Besides the interesting information that passes before one's eyes, it is full of surprises. Many times, a person will hear lines such as, "This presses the knowledge we now have," or "We used to think that x happened, but new evidence suggests...." I love living in the world in which new boundaries are found, old information is revised, new theories are being discovered and applied.

It's a little bit like the freeing experience of knowing an ancient language and being trained in the science of language. One does not feel so bound by translations because the fluidity of language is one of the key components to understanding any language. Although language does follow a certain set of rules at its core, there's a beauty to the aesthetic side of language such as semantics, idioms, and the colorful, regional use of a language.

The other day I was flipping channels on the radio and came across a program where the speaker was defining two Greek words (one usually translated slave, the other usually meaning servant). It's hard to know the limits of synonyms. Even in English it's a rather enlightening exercise to distinguish the meanings of "glad," "happy," "ecstatic," and "merry." We say "Happy Birthday," "Merry Christmas," "glad reaction," and "ecstatic victory." Are the words interchangeable in those expressions? They all mean about the same thing. But there are nuances, of course. In working with translation, it's just liberating to me to know that not every word is slotted into the same place always and forever.

And really, that observation is a good philosophy for life. There are certain rules to be maintained for order's sake, but not everything is slotted in at the same spot always and forever. There's a fluidity to life like there is to language. That realization helps me to be a more caring, sensitive, accepting individual. It helps me live in the moment of today. Since I'm not guaranteed tomorrow, I like being caring when the day presents it, or accepting if the circumstance requires. It's a good thing to know "people were not made for the Sabbath, but the Sabbath for people."

Between the lines - sometimes

Pragmatics is an area of linguistics that deals with the semantics of words when people speak them. People come to a conversation with different backgrounds or value systems, so the listener doesn't always make the same interpretation of a statement as the speaker. Of course, people can have more than one meaning in mind when they speak. That's the stuff puns are made of, and comedians love the pun. Great irony can be created when more than one meaning is derived from a statement. Beyond humor, though, people can be confused or have different ends in mind based on the interpretation of a word or phrase. For instance, one friend can tell another friend that his uncle is coming to town. Visiting relatives can be good or bad. If the friend doesn't know the uncle, then he might say, "Oh you're in for a great weekend." But, if the friend knows that the uncle is always sarcastic when he talks, then he might say, "Oh, you're in for a long weekend." "My uncle is visiting" is neutral. It's the background brought to the conversation that makes for meaning.

Mafia movies also capitalize on pragmatics. Ordinary words are used to mean something different from the normal meaning of the word. For example, "The package has been delivered" might mean a bundle of money or explosives or a person of interest. Something was delivered, but not a package in the usual sense of the word. The military is famous for this as well because it is important to communicate in code. Anything people want to be vague or clandestine about, they derive words for with special or out-of-the-ordinary meanings.

Another way for pragmatics to work is for a person to quote one line of a work of poetry or a sentence from a book or a line from a song and mean the whole poem. The rabbis of the Jewish faith do this with the Psalms all the time. They will quote one line and really mean the rest of the stanza or the rest of the psalm in the case of short ones. I've heard comics do this with lines from songs as well. Sometimes song lines or song titles capsulize what is going on in a situation so well. So, around quitting time, the secretary I work with will get in a mood to leave early and one of us will quip, "It's five o'clock somewhere." She gets off before 5, but the song title fits the mood. At times I grow nostalgic and hear the chorus to a Zucchero Fornaciari song repeating itself in my mind, "I wanna take a trip back in time, I wanna take a trip back in time." If I share that feeling using that line, others are clueless unless they know the song. If others don't know the song, they just smile and say,"He'll be back in the present momentarily." Ditties are catchy and become representative of situations for us. If everyone understands the situation, life is beautiful. If everyone doesn't, confusion and misunderstanding reign.

Many times communication is a chess game. What does the other person mean by moving his/her piece to that square? What move should I counter with? Is (s)he trying to take as many pieces as possible before striking at the king? Or is (s)he trying to strike straight for the king? Somehow the game gets played as the two reveal their strategies. Perhaps, one difference in communication is that there's not a winner and loser usually. One person wants to understand the other one. It's just that the negotiation of meaning gets bogged down on occasion. There's no sure-fire way to communicate with clarity. Knowing how, when, and where to ask for clarification is the key to clearing the air.

I just wonder

I often wonder about matters of the ancient world. They fascinate me, I guess, because they allow my imagination to think of what could have been true. For example, around 70,000 years ago, a volcanoe erupted in the Indonesian area of the world. Eruptions aren't always a big deal. We see them on TV in modern times. But this one was different.

This eruption was so large, powerful, and long-lasting that what happened with the human-made bomb at Hiroshima looked like child's play. The blast sent plumes of sulfur and other elements into the atmosphere for so long and so high that a 10-year darkness was estimated to have hovered over the earth. That's a long time for no photosynthesis for plants, so most of them died. All you have to do is follow the progression from there. Light is required for plant life in the ocean as well, for the most part. The bottom line was that there was no food for humans after a while, at least not for the number of humans on the earth at the time.

But, not all humans died. Scientists are not sure where the humans that survived lived, but the humans that survived were but a small portion of those that existed before the eruption. In addition, geneticists say that humans were much more diverse than they are now. I would loved to have lived at that time to see a more diverse population. Were there more hair colors, skin tones, eye colors, height delimitations, shapes of bodies, etc. than today? If it is generally true that races gets taller over (lengthy) time, I wonder if it was an age of the little people. Or was it an age of giants whose race had lived 50,000 years before that, but they just couldn't make it because they required too much food? Was there a yellowish or yellow-green skin tone besides the standard ones we see today? Did humans have as much variety in hair color as fish in the sea have stripes and colors in their scales and skin? Some humans today have a whole lot of trouble growing facial hair (in males). Were some of the humans before the eruption with more or less hair on their faces?

I don't know the answer to any of those questions. But it's an exercise in wonder. It doesn't take much to look around the world and find areas full of wonder. Mountains do that for me. Pre-history does it. Space allows for wondrous thoughts of imagination. And it is when I see something full of wonder that I become grateful for the day and age that I live in. And when I am more grateful, I become less dissastisfied. That releases me to live more fully. Of course, there's always one area of dissatisfaction or another, it seems, that crops up. But, that always keeps me from living in such a wonder-filled world that I miss the reality of the present. But, tonight I am wondering about the world of 70,000 years ago and all that it held. And, I am grateful.

What a little trip to the past will do

Today I was rereading some portions of the Egyptian Book of the Dead. Don't ask me why. It's just a mood that comes over me once in a long while, usually while I am waiting for the next big event to happen in my life. I forget how intelligent those people were and how life for them was both glorious and mundane at the same time (exactly like ours today).



I was reading the portion of the commentary on the hieroglyphs used for the translation of God and whether the word really applied at all to a supreme being. The commentator for this section of the book wrote his remarks in 1895, but his arguments are still germane today. As he quoted the hieroglyphic texts (in heirogplyphic script - fascinating!) he followed his argument that the Egyptians, from the very beginning, believed in a single supreme being. His argument showed other words used for a plurality of gods, and how they might have not been gods at all, but some idea of mighty spirits (almost the idea expressed in Genesis 6.3-4).

I think the popular modern belief is that the Egyptians believed in a multiplicity of gods, and truly, even in the Egyptian Book of the Dead some of the passages lend themselves to that interpretation. We weren't there, and since there is some room for interpretation as to the Egyptian's beliefs and values, we might not want to speak so definitely about what those ancient people did or did not believe.

I guess the lesson I learn every time I deal with an ancient text of some sort is that they had a view of the world that was different from mine. While I can appreciate the view they held, I don't try to take something that worked for people thousands of years ago and just plug it into my modern view. So many times, I have heard that we are the end result of the decades and centuries that have preceded us. In some regards, a study of western civilization does help us understand that very generally speaking we have connections to how the world developed in Europe from the Roman empire forward.

The notion of God, the after-life, the human pursuit of finding both helps me to center myself. But, it also liberates me to know that civilizations progress, people move forward in their philosophies. A look back is a good starting place. A look at the present is the genuine reality check. A look ahead helps us to know whether to proceed or not based on where we started and where we are. My real trouble has always been that when I connect those three dots of past, present, and future, I don't see the straight line. The line curves and meanders. I hope that means I am smelling roses rather than being off-track.

The wrong will fail, the right prevail

The TV show Numbers represented life so well tonight. It was about a mobster who was going to be executed for committing a crime. The show centered on the mobster's determination to die even though at the last minute evidence surfaced that showed that the mobster did not commit the crime, that his son did. The mobster was dying to protect his son, and willingly doing so. As this was going on, a sub-plot was being developed where the star of the show had made calculations for a basketball team who had lost every game for a number years straight. He was trying out his method in a real game. But the team was losing miserably.

The ending scene switched back and forth between the main plot and sub-plot. The basketball team began winning when the coach put pro players into the college game, but no one knew that the players were professional. The main plot showed the mobster being strapped in for lethal injection for a crime he didn't commit and nothing could be done to stop the execution.

Cheating the system worked in the basketball game, which isn't real life, but cheating the system cost an innocent man his life, which he willingly gave, in the real world. A number of conclusions can be drawn. The one obvious to me at first was that what doesn't count turns out all right and what really counts doesn't turn out right at all.

Life is topsy-turvy like that.

(The title is a line from the Casting Crowns song, "I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day" which addresses this dilemma of good and evil in light of the gift of Christmas.)

Voices that soothe

What's the deal?

My stomach has a gnawing in it. My dissatisfaction has grown so that my mask doesn't hide it anymore. My mind seems to have lost the ability to track the environment accurately. I see things that my affective side says exists and my cognitive side says is an illusion. My energy is scattered. My wishes and my reality are too far apart. My ballasts are not equally pressured.

I need to retreat to become centered again. At this point I usually am able to bury myself in translating New Testament passages. That's many times a centering experience for me. Sometimes it's in immersing myself in a particular interest such as an avocation. Occasionally it's to resubmerge into the scholarly world. But I'm not willing to spend the time for any of these pursuits right now.

If I quiet down, I'm sure to hear a calming voice and receive laser-focused energy. So here's to hearing voices through the soothing strains of music from Casting Crowns and Lincoln Brewster.

Through choices not oracles

The oldest form of writing has been found on the backs of turtle shells. They come from China. No one can really read the markings, but the hypothesis is that the ancient people wrote their incantations on the shells for divining purposes. Since that time, people have been writing their ideas on how to forecast their own paths throughout the written record of humans.

I don't think we have come very far in that regard. We are still tyring very hard to divine our futures. It doesn't really entail appeasing the gods or trying to read the portents of the sky or the hidden meanings of natural calamities anymore. But it does mean that we are curious about what lies ahead of us in life's path. In history, the famous oracles like the one at Delphi and famous priestesses like Cassandra stand out because they succesfully informed people of events in their lives.

No one today believes in incantations, and few seek modern Cassandras or psychics. We're much more content to live our lives in relative comfort from one day to the next. We even have an adage in our language advising us to live "one day at a time." But, end of time theories abound, science fiction movies and stories of major world catastrophes flourish, and scientists try to construct a future factoring in global warming.

Perhaps the secret of living is in finding meaning for our lives. Since we learn about ourselves throughout our lives, we have the opportunity to create and recreate meaningful days, years, decades, and quarter-centuries for ourselves. It's easier said than done, but we do have the ability to surround ourselves with activities and people that help to make us better and our lives meaningful. We just need to follow some good old Roman advice - carpe diem (take advantage of the day at hand). So today, I think I'll position myself around those who help me to be better and around those activities that help to build meaning into my life.

A moment in nothingness

I thought I had experienced the entire range of feelings in life, but it was not so.

Several nights ago I was watching a special on the concepts of space and time. In one segment of the documentary, a demonstration was performed with a water balloon hanging from a pole. Someone from a distance shot the balloon with a pellet gun, bursting the balloon. At this point the film was shown one frame at a time. One could actually see the balloon dropping to the floor while the water was intact, still in the shape of the balloon. The water was in place without being held by anything for a couple of frames. In real time it was a matter of a micro-second that the water was suspended in the balloon shape even though the balloon skin had dropped from around the water. The photography was splendid.

The scene was fortuitous. A couple of days later, I was in normal conversation with a good friend. The words spoken were normal and definitely logical for the flow of the conversation. Suddenly, out of nowhere, an epiphany struck in lightning quick fashion. I have had epiphanies before. Sometimes they have come while trying to solve problems; at other times, they have appeared after a period of time mulling an idea. But this day, the epiphany happened without warning and struck so quickly that it was as if the balloon skin had dropped and for a moment in suspended time I glimpsed the raw vision of the logic of the conversation . I didn't at all want to hear the logic because I fiercely, maniacally desired a different conclusion, yet it hung suspended for my eyes to see. I doubt that I was breathing for that suspended moment. It became momentarily dark, my feelings numbed, my soul had been pierced. I'm sure it was a split second, but it seemed like several minutes. Time had stopped. Darkness had set in. My limbs were paralyzed. My psyche had been cut clean to the core, excised of any but one thought. The normal stream of thought had been disrupted, suspended in a vacuum. After my sensations returned, I had the very bleakest, direst of feelings, so much so that I took a couple of minutes after my good friend left to check to see if I was in reality.




My thinking process tried to sort that moment in nothingness on the drive home, but to no avail. My mind refused to rationally analyze what had been presented to me in a flash of a moment. I sat in silence, once home, for a long time. I finally turned on the TV, but turned it off after eating because it was much too cheery. The night was fitful. I could not rest. Finally, I just got up at 2:30 AM and tried to think through why my mood had been so altered. I knew that I was headed for a morning that was all out of kelter. My mood turned to something really foul. By morning, I perfectly understood the reason why I had had the moment in time the day before when the world turned dark,breathless, and vacuous. I had earnestly, intensely wanted an outcome counter to the agonizing epiphany shown to me. I had no plan on how to work myself out of the realization from the day before. Every fiber of my being rejected the outcome of the epiphany.

By noon the next day and after some human interaction to take me away from my darkened thoughts, I was back on track to living life normally. But, that small moment in which I came face to face with an idea that I had hoped against hope would not happen has taught me that I haven't experienced the full range of emotions and that I am not fully in control of my life like I had thought. Not even close. Life has hit me with lightning strikes before, but not like this one. I had to once again put one foot in front of another and slowly emerge from night and silence into a world that had changed for me once again.

**************************************
I don't know what is happening. Life has radically changed. Ideas from my youth on the way the world was supposed to be forever and ever, immovable forever and ever amen, have been taken from me and flung 100 galaxies away. It seems like echoes from another lifetime to hear words like "my yoke is easy and my burden is light." I cannot take another sharpshooter epiphany, but I don't control that.

2nd Lamentations

I realize that the first book of Lamentations is written in beautiful poetry and is about the destruction of Jerusalem as a symbol for the loss of an era. So, I know that this second little lamentation is not comparable in most of the significant regards. But, I still feel compelled to write a small lamentation.

3000 years ago, in the mideast, families really did ban together. In fact, brothers felt strongly enough about familial care that if one of the brothers died, the brother left took his brother's wife to care for. Even in the book of Ruth, great care is taken to reflect the idea of familial care. Some of the Old Testament's most famous words are between Naomi and Ruth. Naomi loses her husband and sons, so wants to make sure that Ruth is taken care of. But Ruth pleads, "Don't ask me to leave or not to follow you home... your people are my people, your God is my God..." Also, once back in Judea, Cousin Boaz takes care of Ruth. In Nigeria, just 300 years ago, there were more women than men, so men made sure that the women were all cared for by marrying them and building compounds for them to live in. If something happened, the wife's family took the daughter back and then gave a dowry to someone else who would marry her for his compound.

Examples abound through history, but these two illustrate an age-old tradition. Now for the modern tradition. Brothers and sisters grow up, marry, move to far off places, call each other, 3 times a year, enjoy a holiday together in the fall, visit each other once every five years at best, take the grand kids for an annual visit to grand parents, and call it a close-knit family.

Independence is good. Women's roles have certainly changed. Mobility has lent itself to more opportunity for work. Transportation has made it easy to close distances between spread out family members. Phones and laptops make connecting easy and fast. Life is good, but families are split. The nuclear family, though good in concept, has no advantage over the non-nuclear family at this stage of a family's development.

Brothers and sisters in far-flung places replace their roots out of necessity with the "friend that sticks closer than a brother." As sad as it is, the direction won't change in the forseeable future. There's no advantage to the nuclear family. That bothered me at first. But why? It's reality. So, I just need to blog about it. Paradigms shift. End of story.

Quick check on dissatisfaction

One of my friends is a businessman and very in tune with the financial happenings of the day. Right now he's a little down not because he's doing badly in his business, but because all his financials principles are being crossed by the current administration. I saw him just last night and noticed it has affected his otherwise cheerful attitude.

It happens to me sometimes. I have clothing, shelter, and income, yet I let some outside influence drag on me. I guess I could say that is part of being human. But, what I need to say is learn a lesson from a friend. Be grateful. Whenever I have stopped to see what is good in my life versus what is a challenge or what is outright evil, it is the good that has the longer side of the list.

Inventories of one's life are always revealing. It's probably time for me to take another one. The road below me doesn't feel so straight and narrow.

How do you spell that mental cleansing word again?

Katharsis is a word derived from Greek, so it doesn't look much like other English words derived from Anglo-Saxon or Latin. It's a word that represents how one continues having good behavior. We macho Americans don't like the idea of a catalyst for good behavior because we think we are much too strong for cleansing our corrupted behaviors. Sometimes we think that we live on a higher plane than to have the need for reflection which is required by katharsis.

Let's make a comparison here. As we go through life eating what we want without regard for calorie intake, cholesterol level, sodium amounts, sugar amounts, family history, ad infinitum (ad nauseum), we began to show the ravages of these in our bodies. If we make no adjustments, then we end up looking rather sloven from overeating or appear shaky, dizzy, or faint from glucose shock, or become irate from hypertension, or show ourselves to be haggard and lethargic from living the sedentary life. And what if we go through life reacting to life without regard to what happens to our value system, our spouse's actions, our children's behavior, our friends' snubs, etc. (ad nauseum)? If we make no adjustments, then we end up killing ourselves, "going off on someone," opting to withdraw, changing values, raging against the machine in general (becoming negative, irritable, complaining).

In both our body's case and our reactions to life we need cleansings every so often. This cleansing is referred to as katharsis in the case of our reactions to life. We all need someone to speak to about the "stuff" in our lives that build up. Just that conversation to another person does wonders for our minds. It frees us after it's over to build plans, to dream again, to get past an obstacle, to love again, and many other wondrous activities. Cleansing is as necessary to longevity of the mental state as it is to the body or physical state.

We would do well to pay attention to an age-old idea captured by an ancient word. It would help with melt-downs. It would keep us fresher and healthier. It would prevent us from being jaded and bitter. It would help us forgive and love. It would allow us to give a cup of water to a traveler, to say an encouraging word to an orphan, to hold our tongues when we would rather shout "Fool" to someone else. In the accumulation of vocabulary words for our conscious mind to use, we should make sure that our mechanism for cleansing is there: k-a-t-h-a-r-s-i-s.

Did what you said mean what I think it meant or did it mean what you said?

Why do people have trouble saying what they mean? For several reasons. 1) Those who listen have the option of making judgments about those who are talking. 2) Those who are talking are sizing up how much of something to tell someone else, so they leave parts out thinking that the person would be bored with the topic or can't be trusted with the topic. 3) Those engaged in the conversational dance negotiate as they go. The speaker thinks, "I'll tell so much, see what the response is, and continue if I don't get the signal to quit." The other thinks "If the speaker goes over 10 seconds of running speech I will have to hide the yawn." 4) Those who are speaking want to hide the facts because they don't know the listener well, or they don't want to hurt the listener. 5) Those who speak think very little of the listener, so they don't want to waste their own precious time.




The list could go on. Mainly, the reason is that people don't want honesty; they want image. It is so refreshing to be around someone who is honest in speech. When that happens stress is reduced, and I feel compelled to be honest in response. We all get inklings when speech is less than honest. Even if we don't know all the speech markers for lies or know methods for telling deception, we can detect an atmosphere of judgment or unworthiness or boredom. It increases the tension in the air; stress heightens.

I have been in my current job for a little over 4 years. Truly it seems like 44 years, but that's because the first 3 years were so filled with people not saying what they meant that the atmosphere could have been cut with a knife. Now, it's different in my immediate working atmosphere. Days are long enough, but the communication is much more honest. There's laughter even. And where there's laughter, there's clear, honest communication. The stress has been cut in half.

I think it has been written somewhere about letting yes mean yes and no mean no. Oh yeah, the Good Book. It's amazing what happens to a person's inner being when that occurs.

Humility 101 for the 1 millionth time

I just got back from a conference. It was better than expected. One of the tidbits of learning I came away with was a quotation from Heraclitus (6th century BCE Greek). He stated in his one extant work, "the path for the way up is the same path as the one for the way down." My immediate reaction was, "H-m-m-m, I'll have to ponder that one for a while."

Now I've pondered. That's a rather startling statement since a person can't really tell whether he or she is on the way up or down. We might think we're on the way up, but if we are disoriented, we're really on the way down. I think that's the point though. If we can't tell which way is up or down, then we shouldn't be so pompous in our daily walks. Of course, the words were hollow coming from Heraclitus since he was from a very wealthy and influential family.

But, as arrogant as Americans are, I guess it seems a little hollow that I would even reflect on the passage myself. I was in a session tonight trying to teach a 9th grader how to write an essay. One of the comments I make to students learning to write is to lose the arrogance that Americans have and learn to proofread. Not everything that rolls off the lips, comes out the tip of the pen, or flashes across the mind is worthy of remaining unrevised.

Just when I think I have learned the lesson well from experience, I seem to take two steps backward. I did that even today. I thought I would take a risk, said something, and then realized that it was arrogant of me to even have had a thought like that cross my mind. So I say to myself, "Physician heal thyself." Tomorrow will be a new day, and hopefully, a less pompous day.

Eating bread = life. Simple!

Cultures from 1000s of years ago have had the notion that people could live forever after they died. I don't really know where they got the idea. Egyptian tombs are the most representative of the old world's idea of living forever, but it existed before them. Why the Jews didn't believe in an after life is beyond me. I suppose that they were literalists and their idea of following the Talmud didn't include providing for an after life. It seems that as the years of the monarchy went by that some of the Jews, at least, had developed the idea that they lived forever through their posterity.

When the Son of Man walks on the earth's stage and has a conversation with some of his fellow Jews, as he did in John 6, it's no wonder, then, that they are shocked. They wanted to follow him for his miracles of healing and multiplying food, but when he started saying that he was bread from heaven and partaking of his bread would lead to the afterlife, he lost the crowd. They wanted to see a few more miracles before fully trusting that what he was saying about himself was true.

Maybe it's just me, but having the option of an afterlife sounds pretty inviting. The present life is what we make of it all right, but it's rife with disappointment and sadness. An afterlife with the Maker of Life sounds much better. If the Son of Man's bread is all I have partake of to get this life, I'm there. Of course, some would say that it's easier said than done to trust that what he said and did was straight from heaven and to follow his teachings. I don't know about "hard," but following His teachings is counter-cultural at times. That's just the process of making decisions, though. And humans are pretty good at making decisions that favor them. So, I'm thinking that eating bread and gaining the afterlife is a good deal. I can decide in favor of the counter-cultural when the odds are so much in my favor.

Working on noble aftermaths

The scene near the end of the 25-year-old TV movie Aspen took place in a court room. A lawyer was representing someone whom the city residents thought had murdered another person important in their neighborhood. The trial was controversial, but the powerful people of Aspen wanted the judge to put away the defendant. At a point just before the judge was to give his verdict, the defense lawyer asked to speak to the judge in his chambers. The request was granted. In the chambers the lawyer took the judge back to a skiing incident in their adolescence in which the lawyer had saved the judge's life. As adolescents, the young man who became judge, had promised his friend who became a prominent defense attorney, that if there was ever a time he could repay his friend for saving his life, he would do it. Back in the judge's chambers the defense attorney was saying that he knew the judge had the pressure of the town and the influential people on him and that he would probably rule against his client. He said his client was innocent and all the evidence presented was circumstantial. The judge agreed about the evidence being circumstantial, but told his friend he could not rule in his favor. The attorney then reminded the judge of his promise to repay a debt and said, "I'm asking for the repayment now. I saved your life. Rule for my client." The judge declined.

I still remember my emotions. I really couldn't believe the betrayal that happened in the judge's chambers. That riveting scene has been made a permanent part of my psyche, and I find myself emotionally responding to betrayal in all of its forms. There's a similar scene in the movie Braveheart. Mel Giblson plays Wallace excellently. The nobles of Scotland tell Wallace they will support his independence movement and call him to their headquarters. But, he is betrayed into British hands by the one with whom he had exchanged promises. He goes on to die a noble death, but the moment of betrayal by the lords of Scotland particularly repusles me.

Then, of course, there is the case of the one who called himself God's Son. He was with his followers in Jerusalem for the holiest of holidays. It was a show down. The high priest could see that the crowds were going to capitulate their normal beliefs in favor of the teaching of this Son of God. The story of Judas' betrayal is well known. But it still rips out the heart to read of or see the delivery of God's Son to the Temple Guard and eventually the Roman authority.

Humans betray each other. That's what we do. I am as guilty as the next person, so I don't know why I have highlighted this particular human activity in my mind. Maybe it's because the blade that causes the wound pierces the flesh to the bone. Maybe it's because the healing afterward takes so long. Maybe it's because the anger that is incited burns red hot searing in the pain and eventually scarring the mind. Betrayal causes temporary disorientation.

The really big betrayals in my own life have resulted each time in a total redirection of life's flow. They have caused great questioning of core values. There's no telling where I would have ended up had they not happened. I don't know that my character has been strengthened by them, but I am a better discerner of others' characters. The final scenes of Aspen have been burned into my psyche. So, I understand more about human nature. The downside is that it affects how I care about others, how much I care about others, and when I care about others. I'm not considered to be a very open person by those around me. I need to work on that. It's a result of major redirects in my life brought about by betrayals. But, since the Son of God has been down that path, I can do as He did and do as Wallace did who followed Him, and work on noble aftermaths.

Olive leaf

To ~j...

Grand calls, plans, and plodding

Once in a while, I see that certain people are prepared for a certain moment in time. Mordecai's famous words to Esther from the book by the same name are, "If you don't go before the king, God will rescue his people from another quarter, but who knows but that you have come to this kingdom for exactly this moment." Of course the Son of Man knew his timing and place. He told his followers on several occasions. John wrote in retrospect of these conversations, "He knew where he was from and where he was going." And a few chapters later John wrote the statement from Jesus' lips from the trial, "I have come for one purpose, to speak truth." In the Old Testament apocrypha, in Judith, the main character, Judith, knew that she was the one to deliver her people from the hand of the enemy when the city elders caved in to the demands of the Persians. So, she willingly accepted her role.

I suppose that is why people say that God has a plan for their lives. I think God has a plan. I think God helps people fit into his plan as they become willing to do so. But, I'm not so strong on the plan for my life part. Some people, yes, have moments when God has called their numbers. They're center-stage. Others, like me, don't ever hear their number called, unless it hasn't happened yet. I'll write another blog when this occurs. In retrospect of my life, I see that on occasion The Maker of destinies has said, "Yes," or "No" to some of my desires. But, that seems to be different from the grand call or the plan for my life.

I'm still breathing, so I guess I could have an epiphany about my plan. In the meantime, I will plod along doing what I can to follow the teachings of the Son of Man. His role after all was to tell truth.

The charmed life

You residents of Thebes, our native land, look on this man, this Oedipus, the one who understood that celebrated riddle. He was the most powerful of men. All citizens who witnessed this man’s wealth were envious. Now what a surging tide of terrible disaster sweeps around him. So while we wait to see that final day, we cannot call a mortal being happy before he’s passed beyond life free from pain. (from the final lines chanted by the chorus in Oedipus the King by Sophocles)

Oedipus the king had it going his way from birth, literally. He was supposed to have been discarded on the cliffs of the countryside. He survived that because of the kindness of a shepherd. Lucky for Oedipus, the shepherd delivered him to a king's household for raising in a not too distant city-state from where he entered the world. And, still lucky for him, he became a great king in his own hometown city-state by solving a riddle. Yes, the stars shone on Oedipus. His wife and children were beautiful and loyal. His subjects admired him. He lived what you might call the charmed life.

But, life is long. At least it was long enough for Oedipus' fortune to change. Unlucky for him, he had been born under a terrible prophecy. He was caught in a spiral finally in which he slept with his mother and killed his father, the cursed prophecy given at his birth. Really unlucky for him, he lost Apollos' favor. He gouged out both his eyes for penance and then was banished from the town he ruled for fulfilling his prophecy.

Life's full of ironies and illusions. Life is full of disillusions for that matter. That's what the closing words of the play by Sophocles relay to us. I guess around 425 BCE, people just like you and me, looked at life and thought that some people lived charmed lives. I know we look out at the country club tennis courts and wish we had the life of leisure like those people. Or we are driving down the street and see those Porshes and Mercedes and fantasize about the life those people are living, wishing we had it for ourselves. We like to drive through the really "nice" sections of town and wish we had a piece of that American Pie. Sometimes we even think we're headed toward the good life we deserve and then a setback occurs. We think that the people driving those Mercedes, living in those nice houses or playing tennis on the courts while the rest of the world is working don't have any setbacks. Their lives are charmed.

Perhaps, the great teacher summed up what the Greeks mused about as they left Sophocles' play in the statement, "The first shall be last, and the last first." But I do like the elaboration of Sophocles. One of the translations of this passage of Oedipus uses regret instead of pain from life's circumstances. In that case, it could be paraphrased that a person should not count him(her)self fortunate by having a life of no regrets until the day (s)he dies. Only then would you have no allowance for regretful times. Either way, you have to die before you know for sure that you've made it through life unscathed.

No one does of course, that is, go through life unscathed. People divorce, get betrayed, lose someone near to them, have recalcitrant children, become disillusioned, lose large sums of money, have businesses go under, get cast out of their families, and much more. Really, that is the point of the play as voiced by the chorus. It is great use of hyperbole, a form of irony.

So, if the Apollos-worshiping community of BCE times recognized the way of the world, and human nature hasn't changed since then, why would we have an expectation in our modern world that we would go through life unscathed? That's why I am banking on the last being first. There are a lot of us who are running last right now. I look forward to coming in first at the end.

Prophetic

I want to recall two mile markers in my life to start with. One is the reading of the book "The Power to Be," by Tom Olbricht 25 years ago, a book based on Jesus' lifestyle from the gospel of Mark; the other is a conversation with a woman named Sharon who taught school in Odessa 20 years ago. The book posed the thought that people should live in the moment rather than depending on and following some rigid schedule in order to be productive. The conversation and subsequent poem by Sharon, "See Me, See Life" referenced people who are very accepting because they don't live with preconceived notions of how others ought to act or converse with you. People should be able to take your words only for the moment and interpret them for what they are. (Boy, this should be a prime directive for translators, but that is a whole other subject, a battle for another day).

I subscribe to both of these ideas, but it's a cognitive accord only. In reality over the years, I have blown off other people because of a schedule. I have come to conversations with a preconceived notion on how it might go since the other person has a track record with me. I have tried to prepare for what might have been said rather than allowing for the moment's negotiation of what actually was being said. I had both an umbrella schedule and a specific schedule. That's what productive people did. I experienced 1 day out of 100 in which I let the day took me where it wanted. Frequently, I saw opportunities to help or to offer input or to prepare for only in retrospect.

So, when I reflect on the two mile-markers of the third decade of my life, I have to wonder if I why those two mile-markers were important to me. I certainly did not let the their message inform my actions. But, maybe I read the material then so that I would be prepared for the present decade of my life.

I just love the technology of the present. Now, I send e-mails that are productive for my work all right, but since they work at bascially instantaneous speed, it leaves time to write (what an anachronism) friends and family - by email of course. Not only is the transmission of the message faster, the painstaking time it took to handwrite drawn out letters has disappeared. Typing is so much faster. Then there's the phone, which has been around a while, but you used to have be around a land line. The cell phone has made that a memory. I can call friends anytime, pretty much anywhere. The other day I received a phone call from a friend in Fort Worth who just wanted to know how to spell a word. Cell phones have made conversations shorter, but much more frequent. And then there is the phenomenon of text messaging. I receive several a day - short little reminders that someone who cares is on the other end. Oh, that's not all. If a person wants to plan anything or assemble a written document of any kind, Googledocs are just the thing. It keeps workers and/or friends in the loop on basically everything even meetings missed. And, I love Twitter. The little details of life or the little tidbits of parts of life can be shared with whoever you wish to share those tidbits with. All of this is only a partial way to keep up. I can shop online from anywhere, remember people with e-cards for their improtant events, keep a transparent log of my life, philosophy, interests, work, etc., by blogging. I can prepare for family vacations through a collaboration center so that one phone call can be made instead of 3. I can choose about any app(lication) I want on a phone so that I can check the temperature, make a calculation, take a movie clip, find a movie, order flight tickets, or google my house on googleearth.

The deliberate world of the late 80s has yielded to a customized, much more seamless, lightning-speed world. I'm not out of breath trying to keep up either. I can keep pace because of the ease of the devices that deliver this new world. I can let the day take me anywhere it wants because its faster and shorter spurts of little information allow me to go several places in a shorter amount of time, breathlessly. I can take people more at face-value with fewer preconceptions because text-messaging, emails, IM, short phone calls allow me fewer words and tones of voices to judge them by. I'm happier, the people I communicate with are happier. Life is good.

The other day I received an email from a friend from Abilene while at work wanting to know what was up in my blogs. I answered him within a short amount of time. He responded. I responded. I had a productive work day, left for home made 3 calls on my trip home setting up supper, touching base with a work colleague, and ordering take-out to eat. I received a text message from my daughter, so I replied to her (yes, on the road). After eating, checked my email, blogged, twittered, worked virtaully with a student on virtual high school in its collaboration center, then went to bed with my cell phone's MP3 playing soothing strains through my earbuds. Yeah - living la vida buena, hermanos y hermanas!

Literalism doesn't inspire me

Generally, when people talk to me of heaven, I don't have a picture in my mind because I don't believe that a picture of heaven is painted anywhere on the pages of the sacred book. So, when one of my favorite people began giving accolades to a book called "Heaven," it was hard for me to get as excited as this person wanted me to be. But, I read excerpts here and there in the opening stages of the book because that is where the premise was set out on how the author knew so much about heaven.





I saw right away that the author's view of the sacred book was derived from a literal view and from a view that allows Old Testament passages to be put right alongside New Testament passages without regard for original context. One of the conclusions from one of the chapters was that we would be staying on the earth, a new earth granted, but the earth nonetheless. I don't know why we would need a new earth, but literalists don't seem to question much. They seem to merely take what is said and try to make the best of an explanation. Oh, and yes, a new heaven came with the new earth. No explanation on why a new heaven was needed either.

For me, just because one would be in the presence of the Creator is a good reason to desire to be "in heaven." And, I would get to be with those who have preceded me to heaven. That's another good reason to be there. But as to its appearance after I'm there or its allure to those who fear its alternative or want the image of golden streets, pearly gates,etc. or need the structure of a new earth inhabited by Christians and governed by the Son of God, I have no idea why they feel such a compunction to concoct unnecessary inferences. The Son of Man chose not to disclose any of its treasures or secrets, so I'm wondering how a human could write such an assertive position over 200 pages long on a matter not discussed by the one who came from there and promised to return to take us where he is.

So although my excitement over the book "Heaven" won't be seen in my demeanor, my desire to be taken to the place where my loved ones reside and to ride there with the one who will return for me runs deep and emits a tranquil aura around my face and a long-abiding belief in my core. I don't need a modern fabrication (book). I only need the original assurance that this will happen. No kaleidoscope picture of passages have to be cut and pasted into some fanciful mosaic, just an assurance noted from the lips of the one who will return. Then I'm satisfied and truly excited.

Just say no to following the regular Joe

I pass a sign from time to time on a church building. It says, "Abundant Life Church." I have no idea what the people are like who enter those doors, so this is not about the people. It's the phrase "abundant life" that begs a comment.

I barely know what "life" is, so "abundant life" escapes me. Oh, I know the verse well enough in John 10:10, "I have come to bring life to you and for you to have it more abundantly." But, in the context of John 10:1-18, life is put in opposition to destruction, theft, and murder. These last 3 were products of false Chosen Ones, the former a product of the true Chosen One.

It seems that the semantic set up in the passage is one of contrast. The focus is not just on abundant life, but on the kind of life that is distinct, not offered by those who destroy, kill, and steal. It's not abundant life, but a life that is different from the life offered by those who destroy and plunder. Powerful men who chose to plunder cities and maim its citizens just for conquest couldn't really offer a full or satisfactory life. There had been other chosen ones, sons of God to grace the earth. Alexander the great called himself with such an appellation. The pharaohs of the middle dynasties of Egypt did. Augustus Caesar did. More than one Persian king did. But following these earthly chosen ones didn't offer a fully satisfactory life. It lacked the spritual dimension, the life that might extend past what the present moment offered.

I'm not much of a follower. But, I can follow somone who has more to offer than what I see in the here and now. The offer is fuller, more satisfactory. It contains worthy desires that have actions as their vehicles for manifestation. I would have made a lousy ancient citizen for a king who thought he was all that, the chosen of the gods. I would have made a lousy follower of King George III in our own Revolutionary War. But, I can follow someone who offers a spiritual dimension.

The (in)tangibles

The mundane activities of our days drain the life from us. I know that routines are what the brain depends on, even constructs, for self-preservation of the body. But, I also know that what preserves on one hand deprives or destroys on the other hand. In fact, if someone asked me to tell them how my life was going, I'd tell them about my routines. That would be boring. Of course, if I was asked about my life, I could answer about the activities that caused my adrenalin to flow, or that raised my excitement level. Likely, though, the person would get my official mundane line, "Everything's fine."

Besides saying, "Iam life," the Master from the father said, "I have come to bring life to you." I know cognitively that he was not offering more mundane activities to perform in life. Still, so many people are not enjoying life. They're just moving from one mundane activity to another without too much arousal, stimulus, or excitement. I have been like that and find myself falling into that pattern more often than I like.

Now, supposing I have taken the Master up on his offer of life, what should my "life" be like? Is it simply modeling teachings such as "turn the other cheek?" Is it trying to be excited all the time because I have some notion that life=excitement? It seems to me to be the idea of something unseen, the invisible qualities of "life." It's having consistently kind behavior to others. It's helping friends. It's smiling at children because I know that scowls don't convey happines. It's spending money on others for lunch or showers or unexpected gifts sometimes. It's knowing what roles I have divided with a spouse, and acting on those roles with a degree of cheerfulness since I agreed to that role. It's not answering in sheer anger when prodded to do so by my own children. And it's much more. But, the above list is not merely a bunch of actions; the list is a bunch of desires to be good, decent, kind, helpful, measured, or consistent that manifest themselves in various actions over time. They are the invisible qualities that have all kinds of actions to them as vehicles to convey the desire visibly.

I think most of all, though, that the life that was brought just to me entails acting out the invisible qualities mentioned above through the set of talents given to me and presenting them to others through my personality. Then, I know I have life that is natural because I am using what I was endowed with, but also I have life that is supernatural because the desire to continue to use my talents without tiring does not diminish like energy that needs replenishing each night after being expended during the day.

Life brings energy to my soul, my psyche. It brings light to a mundane day, spring to my step, smiles to my face, laughter to my friends, a tune to my tongue, and glint of hope to my tiny life of 1 of 6 billion.

A reaction against the Accuser who stands before God

Why all this interest in the pursuit of knowledge of lying? I don't know for sure. If I go with the idea that people pursue in life what they most need, then I have one of those reasons. It has been hypothesized that people become psychologists because they are exploring some deep-seated need of their own. People become lawyers in order to put order to the chaos of their own world. People become firemen or policemen in order to learn more of their fascination of destruction and control, respectively. The list goes on. I guess I would want to dissect the lie because of need to understand where deception and betrayal come from or the need to set the record straight. Of course, there are other hypotheses for pursuing something in life. People are generally speaking, opportunists when given the chance. This means that I have seen an opportunity that will get me ahead in the game of life.

I really do think lying is despicable when it affects others. Nearly all lying does, but when lying causes people to alter their lives because of the advantage others might gain by lying, that's when I turn red and blow fuses. I'm not powerful enough or well conncected enough to hold people in check, but through knowledge of lying, perhaps I can help in making sure that people don't get taken advantage through some people's darker, deceptive nature.

I think I get this idea from my religious values. I find that the Great Teacher had a similar view to mine. He didn't mince words when he came into contact with some of the most ostensibly religious people of his time and place. On one particular occasion these very pious Jews were criticizing him for putting himself in a higher position than they were in relation to God. The Teacher retorted: "You are the children of your father, the Devil, and you want to follow your father's desires. From the very beginning he was a murderer and has never been on the side of truth, because there is no truth in him. When he tells a lie, he is only doing what is natural to him, because he is a liar and the father of all lies" (John 8.44). Now that's a strong statement - telling people they are the children of the father of all lies. Another example comes from the Apocalypse of John. In one of the scenes of his visions, he sees a war in heaven. During the course of this war, Satan is thrown out of heaven. The author uses much of the same idea in his description and function of Satan that Jesus did. "The huge dragon was thrown out–that ancient serpent, named the Devil, or Satan, that deceived the whole world. He was thrown down to earth, and all his angels with him. Then I heard a loud voice in heaven saying, 'Now God's salvation has come! Now God has shown his power as King! Now his Messiah has shown his authority! For the one who stood before our God and accused believers day and night has been thrown out of heaven'" (Revelation 12.9-10). There he is, the evil one, still deceiving, still accusing, still lying in this vision.

Because there is such a strong reaction to lying in a book I deem sacred, then I believe I have taken that to heart because it matches some of my other desires, interests, experiences, and training in life. Many have pursued other parts of the Good Book and done well. This is my way of becoming leaven on the earth to create a little niche for good in an otherwise very evil, illusionary world. So, I try to track down the tangles in the web when people practice to deceive. It's a small niche The Maker of Interests has allowed me to fill.

Soul Sweetness

Attorneys play this vicious game called depositions. In this game, witnesses try to cover their tracks while attorneys try to expose the same tracks. Conversational Currents is a method that charts the 50 word responses of a witness being deposed. It tells how many responses occur before a witness comes to one of those big whopping lies as measured by the type-token ratio method spoken of a post or two ago. Some people like to build up to telling a lie. So, their chart will show a string of responses before the big one is told. Other people like to tell the lie up front so they can be consistent in their lie from that point on. Still others prefer to see where the line of questioning is going, spring the lie, then try to manipulate the questioner into ending the questioning because they have told the substance of their story. There are all kinds of styles.

Another benefit of the Conversational Currents method is that it shows where in the organizational structure of an attorney's questioning the really big lies are and where the minor lies are. If the attorney can have this pointed out before the trial, then (s)he can rearrange the argument to crescendo to the main lie and point it out as such, or (s)he can point it out at the very beginning and continue to hammer the point home throughout the rest of the questioning. Some attorneys like to present the lie in the original line of questioning and then hang the person out to dry on the cross-examination. Knowing the placement of the big lies and the minor lies in a deposition can help an attorney restructure questioning and final arguments in the trial and gain an advantage.

One other benefit of Conversational Currents is that it guts the witness of hedging that may happen. It makes the witness skip the hedge and become more direct. Most of the time that makes it easier for a jury or judge to see the lie being told. It's nice to be able to strip a lie down to its raw, cold, twisted skeleton. The liar knows (s)he has been attacked with a full frontal assault, that's for sure.

Many people think truth comes out in body gestures even though the words come out in lies. I think they have that wrong. A person can easily learn the tricks of the trade on body gestures and control the gestures just to trick someone "trained" to watch. Both lies and truth come out in the same utterance. Words having truth value can be separated from words having false value. The thrill of the hunt for me is in successfully illustrating that separation. It's sweetness to the soul.

Chess, anyone?

Hedging is one of the oldest games in town. It's seen as "not really lying." There are a number of ways to hedge. One can express uncertainty. One can just give partial knowledge of what is happening and withhold the other part of what (s)he knows. One can stall by using "um..." and pausing, hoping that the other party will come back in on the conversation and continue talking. One can also give mitigators to anything certain, such as starting a thought with "I think..." or "I believe" or ending a thought with "I'm not really sure" or simply trailing off without completing a thought.

Many people would not give hedging a second thought, or they would think that hedging is not really circumventing the truth, merely delaying how to say the right words. That would be false. Hedging is deliberate. However, when taken together with a type-token ratio, it helps put the right perspective on what the person is trying to lie about. Sometimes it shows that a person really has not rehearsed a stretch of statements. The more the hedge, the less rehearsed a statement is. Sometimes it shows that a person has definitely rehearsed a statement. The more direct an answer to a question, the less the hedge, and the receiver of the information is deceived into thinking that the direct answer was not a lie.

One of the most obvious hedges is the person who says, "I don't know, but..." The speaker thinks (s)he has put the listener off the trail of truth with "I don't know." But, it's a deliberate distractor for the truth that follows, usually not in whole but in part, and usually the last part of the statement.

Hedging is fun because it doesn't have to be counted. It just has to be noticed. Hedging is also part of the chess game with liars. They use it to enshroud their real lies or throw hunters off the smell of the game they are hunting. But, game playing is fun. One can get really good at chess, figuratively speaking of course.