Second Half

We've passed over the continental divide twice on this trip, once going from west to east and now going east to west. Crossing the divide is like being in a twilight of the witching hour. The first time the clouds were covering the peaks of all the mountains around and the rain was pouring. This time, the clouds covered the mountains right above the tree lines.

The peaks seemed to just break out of the tops of the clouds. But, it was still mystic.

And the most beautiful sites still were around every corner, from waterfalls that sprayed you with mist

to islands in a very wide river that the train followed the entire way of 400 miles.

This trip though signified the beginning of the end, the end of the magic and mystery provided by so many sensational feasts for the eyes. I don't exactly know if the journey across life's contintental divide is as beautiful as the second half of this trip, but if so, it will have been worth living.

Pristine & spectacular

The mountain sites continue to be stunning and spectacular.

I have been on lakes before. I have taken boat rides and pontoon rides before.

I have seen isthmuses before.

But I have never done that combination in Canada's highest places. Besides the tranquility it provides, and the awe, it touches the soul. Pristine is a word that I use very little - probably because I live in an area that is not considered pristine.

But here the air is fresh, the aroma is scented of pines, and the horizon doesn't exist because of the imposing Rocky Mountain towers of granite or snow-covered, glacier-bearing peaks. It's spectacular!

Vistas

When you are on top of the world, you can see 360 degrees.

You can see all kinds of terrain - valleys and peaks and everything in between. It is an awesome, awesome view.

And although life can be rough, it has vistas as inspiring and awesome as the terrain in nature. It comes in the people who enter your life, no matter when they enter. They broaden our horizons, give 360 degree experiences, and otherwise give us impetus to keep going. A toast to those who provide beautiful vistas in our lives.

It's a top of the world, top of the morning day

Stellar days usually don't come very often, especially when I am away from town. But, today was different.

I should have known it would be good. I woke up in a town surrounded totally by mountains. I had a brisk walk this morning and saw two elk in someone's lawn in town. Then I went on a tour of several mountain roads that allowed some breathtaking scenes to be taken in.

The Gondola trip to a mountain peak took me to a panarama that was stunning. I received a text from my daughter, a text from a really good friend from Texas, and ended my day with a special highlight - learning a little French. It doesn't get any better.

Majestic beauty

Some beauty on the earth is truly breathtaking. I had one of those days today. I started in Glacier National Park and ended in Banff, Canada. Those are just two points on a map, but if you are actually on the ground going from one place to the next, then you get to see some real terrestial beauty.

The kind of beauty I experienced today is inspiring. It left me in wonder. It left me better than I was before I came to it. It kept me going the whole time I experienced it. It told me that there was much more more on this planet than just a small set of worries that I might have. It impressed me with the sheer power and mysticism involved in understanding life. It made me delighted to have been on a trek through the rugged mountains that reach to the sky.

I am soaking all this beauty up now, knowing that I will rely on its memory to spur me on later, to be better than I am, to put a small set of worries in a bigger perspective. I also know that I can compare this beauty to those who already inspire me to be better than I am, that delight me having been on a journey with them. It's a very beautiful journey!

It takes some motion to get where you're going

I have never really traveled anywhere for 30 hours. So, when I boarded a train in Chicago headed for Whitefish, Montana, I didn't really know what to expect. I've been on glass bottom boats in small places. I have been on plane rides for 4 1/2 hours, I have been on 24-hour car trips. But I have never traveled by Amtrak for 30 hours - 30 hours of non-stop motion.

I rather enjoyed not driving. Riding a train was somewhat like having a chauffeur. I have slept in moving cars before, so it is not a big deal to sleep in motion. I have eaten in Reunion Tower in Dallas that rotates while you eat, so eating in motion was not a first either. But, here it is a couple of hours after getting off the train, and I still feel the motion going on. It is not making me sick. It's just making me feel as if I am still on a merry-go-round. It's a wild feeling. I sure hope to sleep it off.

The 30 hours was worth the motion, however, because it brought me to a beautiful place to lay my head for the night. Tonight I am sleeping in paradise. It's a superbly manicured ski lodge with a tennis court and golf course beside it. Pine trees and flowers are everywhere. The scent of the mountains, of aspen and pine welcome me here. If anything can make the motion go away, it would be the paradise of a mountain resort. Just loving it. Tomorrow will bring us closer to the heart of the rugged Rocky Mountains. The 30-hour train ride will be in oblivion after that.

Faux pas

Just love vacations! They are so full of the promise of fun and relaxation. But usually reality bites somewhere during the first day of the trip. Here are two examples.

We're flying from the southern part of the US to the northern part. So, we made two stops. All went well. Then we began the descent into the destination city. It's the last 20 minutes of the flight. For about 15 of those minutes we had to go through a rain storm, so there was turbulence, not just a little but a lot. It was the kind that shook the plane, the storage bins, the people's baggage under their seats. People began looking around at what others were doing and thinking. Flight attendants were told to sit down. People began seeing their lives flash in front of their eyes. Then as quickly as it started, about 5 minutes from the runway and around 5000 feet, everything cleared up. Whew! Everyone breathed a sigh of relief.

The other thing that happened was self-induced. I had reserved my return flight a couple of weeks from now, but was going to pay for the reservations at the airport upon the beginning of trip. So, the plan was to pay for them as we headed out from city of departure. Except that we arrived with only enough time to go through security and board the plane. So, the plan changed to pay for the reservations in the northern city as we left the airport to disappear into the countryside. Except that we had a hard time finding the shuttle to the hotel, so we got distracted. Fortunately, at the hotel we remembered the reservation, but had to take the hotel shuttle back to the airport, pay, then return to the hotel a second time. Of course, that was time wasted, but what do you do, right?

The rest of the trip is ahead. I hope that reality doesn't bite again for at least a couple of days. The next leg of the journey is on Amtrak and train lines bring a smile to my face.

Time is tricky

A Science channel special ran during the spring that had several episodes on the concept of time. I saw 3 of 5. They were very interesting treatments of the subject. They always get me to thinking.

This last weekend something happened where time seemed suspended for some of the moments. At other times, it seemed that time was dragging by. And as the weekend closed, it seemed full of anticipation. Time is tricky like that. And since we live in time as fish live in water, we have to deal with the kind of time we are surrounded by. Fish live in water, but sometimes the water is different around the fish. Some of it warm, then cold on occasion. Sometimes it is stagnant, and at other times it is filled with swift-moving currents. Sometimes it is polluted and at other times, crystal pure. Fish have learned to navigate all types of different waters.

So, I guess there is a lesson in there for me. Time lapses differently around me. Sometimes, I love the time I spend, and sometimes I dread the time I spend. If I am anticipating something happening, say an email that would brighten my day, time creeps by until I receive it. At other times I can view something coming up, say a place I didn't exactly want to go but did anyway, then time stands still. But sometimes, when I know something is about to end, time seems to gain momentum. This whole gamut of feeling time was just this weekend. I won't ever say again that time is evenly distributed down a continuum. That's not true even on the Science specials.

That makes it more important to me to fill time with special events, special people. They affect how time lapses around me. I want many moments to be filled with delight.

A certain reservation

In Xanadu did Kubla Khan

A stately pleasure-dome decree:

Where Alph, the sacred river, ran

Through caverns measureless to man

Down to a sunless sea.

So twice five miles of fertile ground

With walls and towers were girdled round:

And there were gardens bright with sinuous rills,

Where blossomed many an incense-bearing tree;

And here were forests ancient as the hills,

Enfolding sunny spots of greenery.

.........

A damsel with a dulcimer

In a vision once I saw:

It was an Abyssinian maid,

And on her dulcimer she played,

Singing of Mount Abora.

Could I revive within me

Her symphony and song,

To such a deep delight 'twould win me

That with music loud and long

I would build that dome in air,

That sunny dome! those caves of ice!

And all who heard should see them there,

And all should cry, Beware! Beware!

His flashing eyes, his floating hair!

Weave a circle round him thrice,

And close your eyes with holy dread,

For he on honey-dew hath fed

And drunk the milk of Paradise.

Two centuries ago Samuel Taylor Coleridge penned these lines to a poem called Xanadu (some call it Kubla Kahn). It paints such a beautiful picture in the mind's eye. It was a place called a pleasure dome, a garden paradise, described in glamorous terms. The poem is 5 stanzas long, but I have put the gist of the poem here from stanzas 1, 2, and 5. The last stanza doesn't so much describe Xanadu as it speaks of the king who built it being so enchanted by a maiden there that he could do nothing else except be captivated by her.

I have a special place in my heart for this poem. Perhaps it describes the idyllic place and person that any person would want to have. It might just exist in the mind. Earth might not be able to hold a pleasure dome like this one. But if it did, I would certainly want a reservation to stay there. And while there I would find this maiden with her dulcimer to lull me to stay in this place forever to hear the strains of her music, feed on honey dew, and drink the milk of her paradise.

So idyllic, I know. But if one were to have come through the desert sands and dunes of the great mongolian desert like Kubla Kahn did in the poem, then not only would that person want a reservation there, (s)he would want stay a long time to be drunk from the milk of this paradise, enchanted by the captivating music of the maiden. And if a picture could conjure the same feeling as the poem (without matching its description) it would look like the picture below.

XANADU

When a road plays out

Two roads diverged in yellow wood,

And sorry I could not travel both

And be one traveler. Long I stood,

And looked down one as far as I could to where it bent in the undergrowth.

Then took the other, as just as fair,

And having, perhaps, the better claim,

Because it was grassy and wanted wear

But as for that, the passing there had worn them really about the same.

And both that morning equally lay

in leaves no step had trodden black.

Oh, I kept the first for another day

But, knowing how way leads onto way, I doubted that I should ever be back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh

Somewhere ages and ages hence.

Two roads diverged in a wood. And I,

I took the one less traveled by, and that has made all the difference.

I memorized Frost's The Road Not Taken in 7th grade for a speech contest and have remembered it ever since. It has great value to me because of the application I give it to decisions in my life. Every year since 7th grade some kind of major decision has to be made in my life. So, I reflect on this poem, especially the last line. And the last line is true because the last line in the preceding stanza tends to be the axiom of life.

I don't know why it is that I take a path and then all of a sudden it takes a turn. Then the last line of the first stanza is true. I don't trust undergrowths. They hide things on my path. But paths usually have commonalities, so the second whole stanza is true as I evaluate my view of life again given a shot at a choice of two roads - because the one I am on ends and presents two new paths. This happens at least once a year.

So, this year when it happened, I recognized the fork in the road when it first came into view. Because I hate undergrowths, and because the other path had the better claim, I chose the other path. I am so grateful. And at least one friend who has known me a while has commented that I seem happier than I have been in a really long time, certainly a confirmation that the right choice has been made. So, I''ll end this blog where the poem ends. This new path has made all the difference.

Life's GPS

GPS is a great invention. The main function of it, of course, is to help people find their way. Not being lost is vital to enjoying a journey.

Life doesn't really have a GPS to help people navigate it. People in the ancient world used to revere their elders because they were the clan's GPS. When writing came along, proverbs popped up all over the world for people to leave behind what helped guide them to successful living. Later, world religions began positing sacred books for its followers to achieve satisfaction in living.

The best GPS for a person to have is not found in books or proverbs, though. It is in having someone close who adds spring to your step and delight to your life. That person makes the path brighter than it would otherwise be and inspires you to navigate better because happiness adds clarity to thinking and ease to activities.

The inventor of the GPS has also personalized his device by making a name like TomTom for it (and Gorman). That's a great marketing strategy since personalizing something makes it easier to buy in the first place and then continue to use. I have yet to name my phone GPS but that is coming. The analogy to life is great at this point. Those who travel with us and make our journey easier have names. They are very special people. Their names are symbols for happiness and delight.

A numbers kind of day

It's nice always to see new angles about things that aren't so noticeable. Many people hate numbers, but numbers can reveal things about certain matters. Today I dealt with percentages a lot. There were high percentages in some areas and low percentages in others. It was one of those mixed bag operations. But, I did get to see some patterns. Some I wouldn't have expected.

I also like to turn numbers into charts and graphs. Then I can see some patterns more readily. One of the patterns I saw revealed some gaps. I had some notions that the gaps existed, but the numbers in the graph made it crystal clear where the gaps were and also helped me see how large the gaps were. I also saw some categories that indicated problem areas. Now I know what to do. Numbers pointed the way to some possible remedies.

I am usually engaged in the study of words. That's more my field of study. But today numbers were singing loudly and clearly to me. It was a numbers kind of day.

The occasional bray of the donkey

I am listening to the sound of crickets outside as I write now under the blanket of the night. It's very pleasant to look out a window by day to see hills and lake, and delightful to listen by night to crickets and the occasional bray of a donkey. There's something satisfying about that.

But what an overall satisfying day. Breakfast with cousins that I don't see on a regular basis. Lunch with extended family who have traveled from out-of-the-region places. And lovely conversation to end the evening! A person can't have it too much better than that. It tells me that all is well with the world. I like it when the world turns out peaceful. For at least 24 hours I can rest.

Roots

I am getting to be with my dad's family for a day on the weekend. That's good. He has passed from this world, but his family is like him. Same stock. So, I dedicate this Stephen Crane poem to Dad and his family. Spending time with them strengthens me to stand against mountains.

Once I saw mountains angry,
And ranged in battle-front.
Against them stood a little man;
Aye, he was no bigger than my finger.
I laughed, and spoke to one near me,
"Will he prevail?"
"Surely," replied this other;
"His grandfathers beat them many times."
Then did I see much virtue in grandfathers --
At least, for the little man
Who stood against the mountains.

The sweet taste of lemonade

Not long ago I was in a room full of "professionals" who had just seen a presentation of an idea that they in turn would have to give. At the end of it, someone suggested meeting a second time for a practice run. I remember giving the woman one of those incredulous looks.

I believe in preparation all right. But a professional is one who can take an idea and present it after only a mental practice run. (S)He can picture the presentation, the crowd reaction, any activities that might accompany the presentation, and make it come off without a hitch (or fix the hitches as they occur).

The irony is that one part of the presentation dealt with real-world end uses for the theory presented. Life doesn't have practice runs really. At least not like this person was asking for. Life may have some recurring themes so that the second occurrence resembles the first, although not in every aspect, but there are no practice runs. I know that English has the expression that an event "is not someone's first rodeo." But the saying is about experience allowing someone to connect dots better because of similarities in theme. There's never a practice run, though.

I'm still incredulous over the incident. One of my favorite movies is Apollo 13. Astronauts don't get practice runs. In fact, in this movie, based on a true incident, the astronauts take off to go to the moon. They had trained for various scenarios, but their reality was not one of the scenarios practiced. About 15 minutes into the movie, the astronauts experience an oxygen leak. The commander realizes in a very dramatic moment that their trip has just been aborted. After a crescendo of activity there is a silent 3 seconds, then the commander turns to his fellow astronauts and comments, "We just lost the moon!" The rest of the movie was how to get back to earth without any more hitches.

I have learned much from watching a friend and colleague get no practice runs and still produce grand results from facing less than even odds of something coming off without a hitch. It's remarkable to watch - lemonade from lemons every time. All the more remarkable in a world without practice runs. My hat is off in admiration!

Doing what is good, right, and true

Resistance to doing things that are good, right, or true seems to run rampant at times. People would rather exist in the status quo, or not change when the right thing to do is to change. Where I used to marvel at people's willingness to resist, now I understand it better. It follows the wisdom as set forth in this short poem by Stephen Crane who wrote immediately following the Civil War. Of course, the reconstruction era was rife with people who resisted what was good and right and true.

The wayfarer,

Perceiving the pathway to truth,

Was struck with astonishment.

It was thickly grown with weeds.

"Ha," he said,

"I see that none has passed here

"In a long time."

Later he saw that each weed

Was a singular knife.

"Well," he mumbled at last,

"Doubtless there are other roads."

I have come to know that change can be a rather bloody matter.

The lush area of life

The place I find myself in today is very lush. Everywhere is the color of green and the color of flowers. Vines and hay are in the distance. Trees are tall and spread out over the winding road. Houses along this road are mansions with their own ponds, stables, and ponds.

Some areas of our lives are more like the Sahara. But then, some areas of our lives are like the description above. Some areas of our lives have the splash of colors that flowers provide, the branches that shade a winding road, the beauty of vines and ponds along the way.

Those areas, the persons and events that fill them, are worth remembering - forever and often.

Reminders

I'm sitting in a town different from where I live. It's a nice town and I'm here to give tribute to the daughter of someone who really helped in a time of need. I don't mind being here at all.

Beside me on the table is a cap I wear at home, however. It reminds me of where I wear it around my hometown. Just looking at it reminds me of the home scene although I am a considerable distance from the sights and sounds that make the cap come alive.

I suppose we all have those special memories to make us know where we have been and what is important to us. We don't have to be in a place. We just have to see the place in the mind's eye, or hear the voice, or remember the features of a face.

Memories keep us grounded. They tell us that while we are about our business, there's something in the background that is always important, that will always keep us coming back home. Like the ball cap, remembering the place, or the voice, or the face, gives us the vicarious experience to keep the memory alive and to allow us to take care of the temporary business at hand. After the business is completed, those memories turn our feet toward home again every time.

Just a moment

One little pocket of time.

Today was stressful. It started with not finding the proper material for someone who needed material, went to accepting recommendations that didn't at all fit what I wanted, and ended with having to inventory a whole order just to find out that someone couldn't find something sent to him. It could have been a blue day.

But, there was just this one pocket of time, small in comparison to the amount of time spent dealing with the stressful items, but very, very large in comparison to the quality it value-added to my day, that changed the dynamic of the whole day. A bubble of thoughtful meaning for a moment took the sting away for the day.

As I left work for the day, I did not remember too much the moments of stress. I fully remembered that very important pocket of time.

The thrill of the hunt

One of my favorite stories of all time is the short story by Stephen Vincent Benet, By the Waters of Babylon. I try to use the story to inspire others to do things beyond what they have been presented with in life. The main character in the story also discovers that what is sometimes held as valuable in life is that way based on something that at one time was true, but not true any longer. By the end of the story, he gets to lead a whole tribe of people into a new reality based on new values.

During the story, the father of the boy, who is a priest for the tribe, prepares his son for the rite of passage into adulthood and, consequently, for the priest position to follow. The boy is sent out to commune with the ancestors and to return full of wisdom. But, the boy follows his own path to find out the truth about life. When he returns, he tells his father of the truths that he learned while gone. The father doesn't really like the truths the boy has learned, so he tells the boy, "Truth is a hard deer to hunt," and later, "if you eat too much truth it will kill you."

I have always identified with the boy in the story because truth has always seemed a little relative to me. People have told me the same thing that the father told the boy. So I have pushed to find more realities, more truths, more wisdom. And while too much truth has not killed me, it is true that I find myself siding with the minority at times, or being ostracized at times, or standing with those who advocate radical change at times because of questioning reality. And while that hurts on occasion or causes turmoil, it is deeply satisfying to go to the nth degree to find what is true and what is not.

Noticing more

Dan Brown wrote a book called Angels and Demons. It shows the contrast of good and evil in a variety of settings, but it is about humans, not beings from another dimension. I only bring that book up to show that people put life matters in diametrically opposed positions often. I, too, am guilty of seeing life as a dichotomy.

It is not. There are so many facets to life. It is more analogous to a diamond which has much to admire in it, flaws too, but so much beauty. We have many activities, those we care for have many activities, those we see very little have many activities. Life is multi-faceted, multi-dimensional. But, that makes it enjoyable. If it is a diamond, we get to see the red spots, the yellow, the blue. We get to see the lines, and the flaws. We get to see the clarity and the spots of cloud. We get to feel its hardness and strength, but also get to admire the polished, lovely sparkle.

Diamonds are a whole more like life than Dan Brown's book. Even though there are contrasts of good and evil in life, it is all the other shades and sparkles that make it worth living. Loving life is a many splendored thing.

Pure pleasantry

It's raining outside now.  I hear the thunder, see the lightning, and feel the energy.  The air is electric.  It went with the whole day, particularly the drive home from work.  Instead of listening to the radio, I listened to the part of my playlist on my MP3 player that had emotional intensity in its songs.  I got home recharged instead of tired, not knowing it would be a precursor to the evening.  I relish drives home that merge into enjoyable evenings.

Whatever is on the horizon ahead has faded into oblivion - at least for now.  Tonight nature is surrounding this place with its particular brand of peaceful energy.  Long live special drives home from work and pleasant evenings to match.

Know when...

Poker is a game that anyone who has to work in a political environment recognizes as having great lessons worth learning.  I would recommend to anyone working in management or in an administrative position to listen to Kenny Rogers' very old song, The Gambler.  It has just the necessary advice to navigate the political waters semi-successfully (for no one ever navigates through political waters unscathed).

You gotta know when to hold 'em

Know when to fold 'em

Know when to walk away

know when to play

You never count your money

While you're sittin' at the table

There'll be time enough for countin'

When the dealing's done.

Great advice!  Each one of the lines will be experienced by someone who stays in a position for any length of time.  And each time a hand is dealt, a person has to play it through to the end - unless, of course, (s)he wants to get washed out to sea.  Thank you Kenny Rogers for helping me navigate the cards that have been dealt to me.

Mental frame

Robert Collier 
You can do anything you think you can. This knowledge is literally the gift of the gods, for through it you can solve every human problem. It should make of you an incurable optimist. It is the open door.

I forget from time to time that this philosophy is true.  If I begin to see some closed doors, I just need to let my tongue recite this idea for it truly opens doors.  If I begin to see problems rather than solutions, I need to shake my mind until it reflects on the gift of the gods for the saying creates solutions.  In most matters, thinking you can is the magic wand.  It is representative of what the pharaohs of Egypt used to command when a scribe was writing her or his words: "So let it be written, so let it be done."  I will keep these 8 words in the front of my mind this week because at least once this week, someone or some circumstance will allow me to think I have failed of my own doing.

Believing in forces of change

One of the boons and the banes of reading widely in a particular field is that knowledge chips away at and replaces notional thinking.  It's good, I guess to have specific knowledge, but it is a curse at the same time.  It's nice to know, for example, that schools in Canada can teach in a dual language setting all day long and successfully graduate students year after year from their version of elementary school.  Journals are replete with examples from other countries as well, like the Netherlands and South Africa, of successful methods of dual language teaching that turn out students annually fluent in two languages.  

Then I hear a principal of a Texas school say that she can't guarantee that a student will know one of the languages in her dual language setting after going from 1st through 6h grade.  I can't even bear the thought of such gross negligence on the part of general practitioners who are in charge of something that they have only notions about.  And in the case of this prinicipal, she doesn't even know that she should be able to accomplish year after year the feat she is in charge of.  Something is really fouling up the air here.

Other examples exist.  I hear of state standards that dictate to teachers, and thus make them think it is possible, to instruct their students in oral conventions of a language.  Linguistic literature is again replete with studies showing the variational nature of language.  Language is not static and has conventions that are dictated by its speakers.  Conventions are not dictated by laws and school instruction and standards and tests.  But general practitioners don't even know to make a cursory scan of any research and try what is doomed from the start because it is not the way language works.

 

Other disciplines face the same problems.  It's just amazing that any semblance of learning takes place in American schools.  But then, in another 20 years, I think the notional approach will begin showing up because our country is ever increasingly competing in a global marketplace.  Students emerging from schools in other countries don't have such systems and practitioners that ignore substance or specific knowledge in favor of notional teaching and incomplete learning.

But I believe in the adaptability of the human spirit.  By 2017, this problem will be spotted and the current system will have given way to something so much better.  We will see that we are headed for second world status and take a course of correction.  Those stuck in the current system will be bitter, but the nation will move forward. Children below grade 4 are in for some great times ahead.  I look forward to putting the future in their hands for they will take civilization to a whole other level upward.

The sound and feel of gold

One of my favorite poems is by Stephen Crane.

A man saw a ball of gold in the sky,

He climbed for it,

And eventually he achieved it -

It was clay.

Now this is the strange part:

When the man went to earth

And looked again,

Lo, there was the ball of gold.

Now this is the strange part:

It was a ball of gold.

Aye, by the heavens, it was a ball of gold.

It is a great statement about appearances versus reality.  It also has an application about discernment. Unfortunately, there have been times when I bought into appearances and let discernment go by the wayside.  Fortunately, good judgment is based on experience, and experience is based on bad judgment.  Now discernment is part of my experience.

When I was in school I used to have a teacher that gave tests about the logic of statements.  He would have these possible multiple choice answers: A) True; B) False; C) Part A is true, B is false; D) Part A is false, Part B is true; E) Statement is true, underlying premise is false.  At the time I hated these tests.  But it has helped so very much in life and in my life's work.  People tend to seek their own advantage at the expense of others, so they deal in answer choices C), D), and E) most of the time, making discernment a necessary tool to the successful navigation of life. 

There is a certain sound and feel to the real gold in life.  Hollow is easy to detect these days.  Clay can be sized up in a hurry.  And even though golden opportunities don't come around often, I know them when I see them and tightly grip them so they don't escape. 

Enjoying moments, not striving

I was watching a special about the concept of time tonight. It was very good. The special is in 4 episodes; this one was #2. It dealt with the age of the earth and where in the scheme of earth's history human beings appeared. I've covered the idea many times, but the vastness of time still amazes me. Humans have just not been around that long.

That thought alleviates a lot of human striving and brings more happiness my way, more times to enjoy the moments that make up life.

Images of a night vision

I was visiting with a friend tonight.  He doesn't live in the English world, so he hasn't had exposure to the creativity and the wit that writers and poets have.  We were speaking about imagery in particular although we were not using that word.  Imagery is one of the coins of currency writers have in their coin purse.  They use it at will and don't hesitate to use it whenever they can because they know they have to captiviate readers.  My friend was in doubt that people could create images without an underlying experience.  I dedicate the lines below to my friend Billy to assure him that people do indeed write creative images without having to have the experience.  This one is a beautiful image of how people feel when they are not heard like the hippies felt during the Vietnam War era. 

Simon and Garfunkel

The Sounds of Silence

(Verse one about a light splitting the night with a vision)

Verses 2 and 3

In the naked light I saw

10,000 people maybe more

People talking without speaking

People hearing without listening

People writing songs that voices never share

No one dare disturb the sound of silence

"Fools," said I, "You do not know

Silence like a cancer grows

Hear my words that I might teach you

Take my arms that I might reach you."

But my words like silent rain drops fell

And Echoed in the well of silence

Same song 500th verse

It's good sometimes to lapse into what has been familiar.  I happened across Led Zeppelin on VH1 and watched about 30 minutes of the concert.  While watching, the band played my number one rock hit of all time (and in reality it is close to that) - Stairway to Heaven.  It is chock full of allusions and Heaven is an inner state, not a place in the afterlife.  It was just good to move into a relaxing inner state, have thoughts of what the song was saying, which was automatic because I have heard this song so many times, and enjoy watching the band's nuances of movements that they added to the words.  Sometimes automaticity is relaxing and needed.  Familiarity has a place in life.

Keepers of the mind

Steven Pinker, a neuro-scientist and psycholinguist, wrote a book called How the Mind Works.  Of course, it is something not read by most educators, which is ironic since they are considered by most of the public to be the keepers of the mind in our society.  Below is a quote by Pinker from this book.

The payoff for the long discussion of mental computation and mental representation I have led you through is, I hope, an understanding of the complexity, subtlety, and flexibility that the human mind is capable of even if it is nothing but a machine, nothing but the on-board computer of a robot of tissue.  We don't need spirits or occult forces to explain intelligence.  Nor, in an effort to look scientific, do we have to ignore the evidence of our own eyes and claim that human beings are bundles of conditioned associations, puppets of the genes, or followers of brutish instincts.  We can have both the agility and discernment of human thought and a mechanistic framework in which to explain it.  (p. 93)

If educators would jump on board with Pinker, then they could get past the labeling that they do of children, past the idea that children have a finite capacity for learning, and past the ridicule that gene pools are shallow for some kids.  They need to see that minds are agile and discerning.  They need to study to know how to teach to the complexity of thinking and crack the code of how to make learning fit into that complex.  They need to continuously refine their knowledge of the mechanistic framework and know that monstrous repetition is the worst offender of that mechanistic framework.  Then maybe they could really be considered the keepers of the mind. 

As it is, educators are in caves and study little about the mind.  Some still hold the archaic and inane notion that people only use 10% of their brains.  There are not words to utter how closely that resembles the notion of the earth being square and having four corners.  So be it.  The dinosaurs of teaching are about to experience the asteroid that will kill the current structure.  There's a KT boundary just about 5 years upline from now.  They won't make it past that.  But Pinker is right, and education will adapt to it through a whole different means.  The new keepers of the mind will have learned the secrets of the agile, complex, flexible, and discerning mind.  Natural selection strikes again.  Goodbye dinosaurs!

Words, equality, and language behavior

Just a small note about words.  Words are created equal, like people.  It's the environment that people and words operate in that make them different.  Immediately upon saying this all manner of thoughts come to mind.  One thought is that some words build up, others tear apart.  So, how can words be equal?  I think it is not the words themselves that build or destroy.  It is the total environment they are spoken in.  What was the tone of voice used?  What was the accompanying body gesture used?  How did the eyes appear as the words were spoken?  Was there hesitation before speaking?  Was there a redirection of thought?  What was the cadence for the words?  All of the answers to these questions help to give meaning to the words.  Something simple such as "Sure, I was paying attention," can have at least 4 meanings even though the words are all the same (or equal).

And words can have two or more meanings. It's always a matter of interpretation for a listener when he arrives at the gist of an utterance.  Pragmatics is all about the environment words operate in?  Sometimes words require implied knowledge or background about the topic at hand for accurate message meaning rather than the concrete meaning of the words.  If the listener has incomplete knowledge or only partial background of the topic, then meaning is skewed.

Finally, values are brought to the table by people.  Values force people to make choices among words.  This creates the notion that some words are worse or better than other words.  It's an illusion, though. Why do some people think the word "fox" is sly, crafty, or crooked while others think "fox" refers to a seductive or beautiful woman?  Why is a "dog" used pejoratively when applied to humans?  Why is "snake" thought of as evil outside of its literal meaning?  Why can I make a hierarchy of words for body parts based on values brought to the table?  For example, it's OK to say "seat," "rear-end," or "buttocks," less OK to shorten to "butt," forbidden in some circles to say "ass," but playful to say "backside" and endearing to say "buns?"  All those terms refer to the same body part.

All words are created equal, but environment, pragmatics, and semantics keep us from saying some words in some places.  Is it prudence or hypocrisy that allows environment, pragmatics, and semantics to dictate word choice if all words are created equal? Some people opt for prudence, others for hypocrisy.  That is why there is diversity.

Favored by fortune

Much of life takes place at a level that can't be seen.  This is certainly true in biology.  What takes place at the molecular level has to have special instruments to be seen and understood.  Astronomy, too, has forces affecting earth, like solar winds, that can't be seen and yet still influence how people communicate and travel in space.

People's language has a kindred link to biology and astronomy.  Although there is much that can be seen and heard, there are areas that operate below the surface.  So much of the time, words gloss what people truly think.  So, since the beginning of language use for communication eons ago, people have learned to "read between the lines."  Some people are good at this.  Others never catch the logic of it.

It is so very refreshing to find people who catch the logic of language.  They can understand the depths of meaning or the limitations of meaning of any given conversation.  They know when to move on or when to linger on ideas embedded in conversations.  When they want to enlighten themselves, they know which questions to ask and can easily skirt the superfluous tidbits of conversation.  Deep understanding is the result. It is refreshing to be with someone like this because the daily exchange of shallow pools of conversation cannot reach understanding. 

 

One can count the number of people they meet in life on one hand who can engage in conversation with the deeper ends in mind because of the symbolic logic it requires.  I am fortunate in this regard.  I am daily able to move below the shallow pools of conversation. 

Come to the table

For me, music feeds my soul.  It often heals.  It certainly expresses emotions that sometimes fail to get put in words.  And it always brings thoughts, feelings, and adrenalin together.  Tonight I was able never to leave my living room and experience a musical feast.  That feast included many delectable songs.  That's what feasts do best - appeal to the palate.

Several of the songs I had to listen to again, and even again.  My mind is still flashing around the various tunes.  I am mulling the meaning of them all, but I can still find immediate enjoyment in them.  Like a feast, the palate registers different bursts of taste from the different foods offered.  And like a feast, too, there's more available than one can ingest in one sitting.

I am going to bed full tonight.  My gratitude and compliments to the chef!!!

Morning Episode

I passed a young man on some stairs today.  I was going down, he was going up.  He limped and had this look on his downward cast face as if to say, "I know you won't say anything to me because I am crippled, but it would be nice if you would."  I spoke to the young man about the same time that I realized the meaning of his look.  He answered back rather shyly, with a wry smile.

My day was made from that point on.  It was a particularly busy day, and I didn't have too much time to reflect on the morning stairway episode.  But, I am a better person tonight because of a shared moment. I was just as needy as he was.  I received a lift from him when he answered me because he was not expecting the greeting he got.  Many blessings to this young man.  I hope he will realize the treasures he holds.

3 lives touching many

The picture above is of a Pame woman weaving.

What a great weekend.  There's nothing like face-to-face meetings with friends that you haven't seen for a while.  A group of 4 linguists sitting around visiting for 4 1/2 hours is some kind of experience.  We have been doing that on a regular basis since the year 2002.  It's good to see how each of us has taken the schooling that we have received and applied it in our vocational endeavors over the last 7 years.

The phonologist among us has lived with a group of indigenous people in the central region of Mexico working to preserve, at least for the historical record and hopefully in reality as well, the language of about 6,000 speakers of Xi'iuy (pronounced Shi-yu-ey).  He has worked diligiently to reduce that spoken language to writing.  He invented a new system of writing, since they had none, with the speakers of Xi'iuy.   Those people are now a very proud people to have a written language.  Believe it or not, these people have no adjectives in their language.  Discoveries like this make lingusitics so stimulating.

The Semitic/Semantics scholar among us is working hard to keep people trained in linguistics to send them to the field and continue working among people who have either no written language or only crude writing systems.  He has fought ill health to stay at the Graduate Institute of Linguistics just so he can teach Amharic, the predominate language of Ethiopia, and semitic semantics and a few sociolinguistic courses to kindred spirits to keep his learnings alive.

The discourse analysis scholar among us is about to depart to Nigeria after making his mark on the TESOL program at UT Arlington.  He will be teaching in a graduate institute in Nigeria to thirsty souls who want to learn how to analyze their own language more systematically.  Many of those languages don't have very many speakers of them.  Some don't have a written code.  I look forward to the articles he will write in the future about applying discourse analysis to some very obscure languages.

4 1/2 hours with these guys makes my head spin.  I love their stories.  I admire their accomplishments.  I am awed by their ambitions.  I am privileged to associate with people who help so many others in ways that few people can.  My hat is off to my 3 good friends.  I wish them a prosperous future and look forward to our next meeting next February.  As a really special friend of mine would say, "U Rock, guys!"

Ending in Smiles

On two occasions tonight I had to answer the hard question.  Earlier in life I would have deflected, not given the best, the most honest answer.  But now, I find that Maya Angelou had it right.  It's the people who care to overcome barriers that ask the hard question, and the answer is honest because it invites those caring people past the barrier.

And even though I am in Dallas tonight, a friend from Mexico and a friend from Odessa wanted to slip past a barrier in separate conversations and ask me why something was.  So I thank my two trusted friends tonight for making me better, for knocking down a barrier that kept them one step more distant from me and me from them.

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.