Parallel Existence

 

by Craig Willms

A while back I read a comment on a YouTube video that struck me as actually being profound. When I thought about the underlying meaning of the comment, I said to myself 'well, that's me'. In short, the subject was about how we navigate the public world and where we prefer to see our place in it. His comment was - essentially - I go out from my comfortable home, out into the world and interact with others, sometimes compelled, sometimes to accompany my wife for something important to her. I talk and interact in a pleasant way, being perfectly polite, asking questions, smiling and nodding, but not really enjoying any of it. Ok, that's over, good... We return home and I'm instantly happy to be back living a parallel existence to everyone else again.

Parallel existence. Aren't we all living a parallel existence to some degree? Yes, I think so. But we all know people who are not really happy unless they are involved, interacting with others, engaged with another person towards some end. That's what makes them feel alive. For others it's a chore, a burden, all this dealing with people. Those like me are at one with ourselves and don't need people as much... 

I know it sounds bad. It sounds like these people, people like me, don't have relationships or close friends and are not neighborly. That's not it. That's not it at all. It's hard to describe, but it really comes down to the feeling that you have interacting with the people out in the world, you're doing just that, acting. Even that sounds bad. It's best described as that feeling you have when you are finally alone and can be yourself again, peeling off the chameleon skin, done with the show.

It's not that you don't like people. You love people, certain people... It's not that you don't care about the details of their lives, even when you know they don't really care about yours. It's the fact we all have our own shit to deal with and talking about certain things is just tedious or uncomfortable, and it's usually unproductive. It's down to fact that we know that no one really cares. The ones that do care, well, they know you and accept you as you are. The rest of them are going through the motions of polite company.

For a lot of us even in our personal relationships we tend to keep everyone at an arm's length. It's not that we never open up or act in a vulnerable way, but it's kept to a bare minimum. We don't want to be a burden, and we don't seek so-called emotional support - for better or worse. Those who constantly talk about themselves or keep a verbal dialogue running eventually bore the snot out of us and we secretly pray for their silence. We usually don't share unless asked directly. We may come off as snobs I guess, but honestly, does anyone out there truly care about inane details about us? 

There are always exceptions. Some people are so skilled at communication and at expressing what I'd call genuine empathy for you that you tend to open up without even realizing you're doing it. These people are rare and special, but it's not really you that's eliciting it in them, they can do it with just about anyone. You'll notice these types of people are usually quite successful in their chosen fields. Do we envy them, maybe a little. But only a little. 

I have a feeling that this sort of parallel existence phenomenon is largely male, maybe even old guy male. I think women and girls are far more social and actually need closeness in a way that makes men uncomfortable. I think men will be nodding their heads reading this.

I'm not really sure what point I'm trying to make, but I think almost anyone can relate to some degree. Those who are not like this, the ones who dive in headfirst into social situations or really love 'involvement' in groups or social activities might find us odd, but I suspect more people are like me than are like them. It takes all kinds; the world would be a dreadfully dull place if everyone acted like me.

It's in the Box, or is it?

 by Craig Willms

I was at the butcher shop the other day waiting for the butcher to put my order together when in walks a guy and his wife. He said "we're picking up a big order that Charlie put together for us." He was chatting up the butcher about this and that as Charlie was digging boxes out of the cooler. He laughed, "well, at least I'll get a couple of good boxes out of the deal." Just then I knew he was a kindred spirit.

I think there's more of us box collectors out there than we thought. There are a bunch of us men who can spot a good box when we see one. Oh yeah, we take a lot of shit from our wives and other people, but in a pinch when a good (appropriate) box is needed we've got it.

I store mine in an upstairs spare bedroom, maybe a few out in the garage too. A decent, well-constructed cardboard box is invaluable. Every so often I'll find myself in a situation where something is being opened and there's this guy who doesn't seem to care about what's being revealed, his interest is the box itself. Sometimes that guy is me. 

If you're away from home, at a party, or maybe helping someone with a home improvement project you feel weird asking "Hey, you gonna want that box?" But you're thinking it. Certain boxes are irresistible. If you happen to be helping a buddy install a new toilet you covet his box. Toilet boxes are built, they're super sturdy and have handles built in! It's box nirvana!!! 

I really started taking boxes and their utility seriously after I got a Costco membership. Costco has some pretty great boxes. These boxes are usually very study, some have a double-walled construction, and they are often very large. Some have an open top design and those have their own utility. Open top boxes are not long-term storage boxes; they are more like crates. For moving your work along with you as you progress these boxes are awesome. Gardening tools, seedlings, gloves or anything you need, and it makes clean up a snap. Did I mention Costco has some great boxes?

There is a downside to all this box collecting - beside the ridicule. They take up space. I fortunately have a large spare bedroom, with a large walk-in closet. Not everyone has that luxury. True many boxes can be broken down and stored flat. I don't like to do that if it can be helped. It compromises the structural integrity of the box. But we do what we got to do. 

Next time you are in a situation where a substantial box is being opened keep an eye out for the guy (it's usually a guy) who is checking out the box instead of the treasure inside. He's there, lurking. Cut him a break. He's doing someone somewhere a service.

A New Philosophy: Words to Live By

 

by Craig Willms

I was sitting on the deck with my wife and some dear friends when I said something that sparked a thought, a profound thought. We were talking about how awful it is to get old. We are all in our sixties now, and only one of us is still working a day job. All of us were lamenting our inability to get a good night's sleep on a regular basis. Then there were all our aches and pains not to mention the physical clumsiness that increments day by day. It's hardly inspiring. It's only downhill from here. My wife sighed and said my goal is to get through to next Christmas when I can retire, then I'll make some plans. I said, "my goal is to get through tomorrow." I said, "Now, those are word to live by"!

My friend immediately said his goal was to get through today. I said no, no, no you got have a something to strive for. It then struck me that I might be on to some new philosophic approach to life. Getting through the day is pretty weak, because you're already halfway there. To set a goal of getting through tomorrow transcends the immediate and gives you something tangible to reach for. At our age tomorrow isn't too far out and therefore it's clearly obtainable. 

We are at the age when even a one-year plan is dicey, let alone a five-year plan. Setting goals is good, but we need to be realistic. In all seriousness by setting a goal of seeing tomorrow's bedtime instead of some too distant future we force ourselves to live for today, be present in the now, rather than constantly dreaming of someday. Face it, our time is numbered in months or years, not decades, not anymore. Living for today is not just laudable, it's also the right thing to do!

From this day forward that's the code, the philosophy I'll live by. So, from now on when someone asks, "what's your plan?" My answer will be, "my goal is to get through tomorrow." Everything else will fall into place (in one way or another).

PS

Talk is talk, right? I above anyone should not be giving advice on living, especially living in the moment. Doing something like that for a lazy person is quite difficult. I'm a daydreamer at best. So, in order for this new philosophy to stick I've got to live it, breath it and abide in the spirit of the words. So, this, the 31st of August in the year 2025 I start to live in the moment and plan for tomorrow... Everyday!

One foot in front of the...

 

by Craig Willms 

3/10/2025

In an earlier post called "The Hole In My Head" I was issuing a warning to family and friends that I felt the oncoming headwind of dementia. There is no actual evidence or diagnosis official or otherwise, but one knows oneself, and I'm losing it. It really doesn't matter to me if you see it or not, I do. Bear with me.

What am I talking about exactly? I've mostly forgotten why I even started writing this down, but one thing that stuck with me during this morning's adventures was how flabbergasted I got doing a few simple things. 

Now, part of my challenge this morning was actually technology related, and yes, may have been confusing to your average 60-something senior. But IT was something I did for a living just a few short years ago, it should have been like riding a bike. What was it? I was resetting a password!!! Three rounds of frustration and at least two tech support phone calls, finally, as my wife looked over my shoulder as I did the exact same thing for the third or fourth time - and this time it worked. I was the kid with the kindergarten teacher urging me on. You're such a good boy, you try so hard.

Later that morning I was driving down to my hometown, going to a friends place to payback some money I'd borrowed. I'd been at his house once before but didn't remember exactly where it was. No, that's not the issue, no one can be faulted for not knowing someplace that they've only been to once. It was that I was having trouble navigating my hometown, a town that has been etched into my permanent memory. Regardless of cosmetic changes my internal compass should have gotten me through that town with my eyes tied behind my back. I had taken the fabled 'back roads' to kill time waiting for him to text me the street address. There were traffic circles that never existed before, and some new streets and buildings but the land was the land, it covered all the same ground. I had trod these acres a thousand times before. Somehow, I was LOST? Then just as the text dinged, I recognized a landmark and was back going in the right direction. 

From there I tried use my now infamous internal compass to navigate the way to my friend's house and became so turned around I had to pull over so I could input the address into Google Maps. Despite the fact that Google Maps was having a stroke this morning it should have been easy to just listen to the voice on the radio speakers pointing the way. Still, once more I had to stop and 're-calculate". Finally in a fit of disbelief I pulled over again and looked at the address I'd put into Google Maps - My God!!! Where is this place??? Then I looked up at the house I had stopped in front of and... There it was - my friend's house. Sheer luck, I think...

These were not hard things to do, not rocket surgery, as they say. I am not incompetent, I never have been. I can do a lot of things pretty well, not that I'm an ace at anything in particular, but I can walk, talk, chew gum and subnet mask your IPv4 Class C network all at once. Or at least I could. Not so sure anymore. I've only been away from my career for 3 years and it's all gone. Ah, they say we remember what's important. Well, let's hope so.

This was not the first time when driving that I didn't know where I was, it worries me a bit. I've always snapped back fairly quickly, so I've never been panicked. This morning, I couldn't make sense of someplace familiar with a voice guiding me turn by turn to my destination. It was like one of those frustrating dreams where try as you might you never actually make it where you're going. 

The Beauty of Shared Love

 

by Craig Willms

Tired of being negative? I know I am. To be honest I don't have that much to be negative about. I'm in a good place personally, and when my wife retires 'we' will be in a really good place. While not rich financially we are rich in so many ways. We are out of debt and have enough to eat and a warm, well maintained house to live in. Compared to so many billions now alive and the billions that have come before us we are rich beyond measure. So yeah, what's to be so negative about?

Well, there is always some injustice or outrage or people acting badly to be mad about. Just read a few postings on this website and you'll find plenty that I'm sick of or outraged about. It's just basic human nature to gripe and complain about that which we cannot control. Most of it doesn't directly affect me, or is so disconnected from my day to day life that my anger and negativity is not proportional. The most we can do besides whining and complaining is visit the ballot box on election day or be mindful where we spend our money. Protesting and other social actions mostly just makes people mad or makes people consider you a nut burger - regardless of the topic. The big, organized protests are just that, highly organized and largely inauthentic. When the money dries up for the 'action' the protests die out. 

To change the world a single person without power has to rely on small, seemingly inconsequential actions. It builds over time by what we leave in our wakes. Being charitable and helpful to those in our circles will have an impact as the drop of care ripples out from us. It's possible to foster goodness and righteousness one person at a time, one act at a time.

The one thing that hits close to home and has invaluable benefit is the idea of shared love. Most of us born into intact families experience shared love. Mom and Dad may not even love each other anymore but in most cases they both love the kids. Even those times when we parents temporarily don't love the kids we do. When adult children come with problems or are hurting, we gather troops and step up in a way that demonstrates this love we share.

For my wife and I our kids are grown and gone from our day to day lives. When the last family pet dies that childhood era is over. We faced this situation a few years ago. Once the shock and pain wear off of losing that pet you face a new world. For many women the caring gene doesn't just shut off. The men in general neither need nor desire the level of care and attention a dependent pet receives. Now, to be sure a shared love can be for hobbies, a sports team, books, wine or any number of interests, but a living pet is at a whole different level. We really missed that cat. For us I wouldn't say we necessarily started growing apart, but that close-up shared love aspect of our lives was over as we had decided that we were not going to have any more pets. She wants to travel, unencumbered by obligations in the home. I concurred. 

We had many pets over the years - in fact there was almost never a time that there weren't pets in the home, often multiple pets at the same time. The absence of pets wasn't something that was bringing us down, it was just different. I couldn't even say that there was a sense that something intrinsic was missing. 

Then as fate would have it a small dog entered the picture. At first it was going to be temporary, right...

Years later we have found an abiding joy in this dog. Our shared love and the reciprocal love the dog exudes has enriched our lives. It's hard to put into words. It isn't something we pined for, at least not knowingly. When the situation that led to the dog coming into our lives had settled the thought of giving her back was shocking. Shocking? Yes, were were so used to our lives now, our routines, our obligations and our adoration of this animal that the idea of her being gone was devastating. We were clinging to something we didn't even know we were missing - the beauty of shared love.

The Hole in My Head

 

The Hole in My Head

By Craig Willms

 

Note: I started writing this in 2021 when I was 59. I had already made my decision to retire. I started to suspect I was at the beginning stages of some sort of dementia, senility. When I've mentioned my concerns in casual conversation, I've been assured it's just age and to a person they all have stories about how bad their memory is. Fine. Fair enough. This is my warning to my loved ones and friends - it's happening.

Getting old is hell. 

Regardless if the previous statement is true (it is) I’m afraid there’s no getting around it. The fact that modern life expectancy has risen into the 70’s and 80’s for many people is wonderful, but our final years are often fraught with pain and suffering.  It’s the physical self takes the brunt of it, without a doubt, but we’ve all seen people whose bodies betray them, yet are razor sharp right up to the end. What of the rest of us, the ones whose mind goes first?

 I’ve reached sixty years of age and with any luck I should have another 10 or 15 years to live. Enjoying life and experiencing new things without the weight of small children and the daily grind of a job should be looked on with joy. We toil our whole lives for this time, do we not? Yet I peer into the future with trepidation.

 A year or two ago I started to notice that my normal outgoing type-A personality was gone. I noticed it with work first. I had started at new company after 21 years with the previous company. After being on the job a year and half I just wasn’t getting it. By now I should be catching on better… The boss started pushing me to be more engaged, ask questions. I was thinking – I don’t even know which questions need asking. I was able to do rote work, often very technical work without a problem. I could process requests and troubleshoot, but when I was thrust into a stressful situation with dozens of people looking to me for answers I froze. I had done this hundreds of times, knowing just where to look and what to do, but not this time. It really shook me. That my boss was also sitting on the call was a double sting.

 A few months before this particular event I noticed that my head was constantly in a fog. My brain was cloudy. I convinced myself it was due to all the medicine I was taking for the heart, blood pressure and other maladies. I sought out a meeting with a clinical pharmacist and we re-arranged the time of day I took certain pills. It seemed to help a little. Still the problem persisted, it's hard to be sharp and reactionary when your head is foggy.

 Shortly after I started having dizzy spells and then started suffering episodes of double-vision. They were short episodes, but I could not work through them. Thoughts of stroke crept in. I know strokes, and I knew I wasn’t having a stroke. After more than a month of this it was time to see a doctor. I would need and MRI of my head and a good neurologist. What followed was a literal circus show and one mad hombre (me). I ended up in the hospital unnecessarily – but I got the MRI and saw a neurologist.

 I learned that the same thing that ails my heart is affecting my brain. It’s probably not going to get better. It’s likely that the diseases of modernity have claimed me and my days of even knowing myself might be numbered.

I am losing myself – I can feel it. 

Most of us lose a step or become forgetful as we get older. Right. This is more than that. Not being able to think or express the things we know does not happen at sixty, but it is happening with me. I can eventually get there, but sometimes there is no there there. This is not right.

I've read that people with metabolic diseases succumb to some kind of mental illness or mental incapacity many, many times more often than those without metabolic maladies. Those with cardiovascular disease or stroke even more so. I've got the trifecta going. In a moment of clarity, I was able to do an intensive cognitive test to generate a baseline, for all the good it will do me. 

Again, it's coming, or rather it's going. My poor wife doesn't need this. I'll just say this, put me in the "home" when you need to, don't worry about what I or anyone else thinks. 

 

 

My Fathers Son

My Father's Son

by Craig Willms

I don't often think of my father. I don't necessarily feel bad about that. Maybe I should? I think about my mother all the time. I suppose that's the way it is for a lot of people whose parents are gone. Dad was not a happy soul. He wasn't so much angry as he was bitter. Yes, I think bitter is right descriptor. Mom had a much sunnier disposition that would attract you to her. Her encouragements were in the form of praise and a sense of joy for you, where my dad's were more like, "you can do better than that?", pointing out the shortcomings of an otherwise laudable effort. That was his way. I assume it was the way he was raised. It was deflating for a young boy; you'd rather not show him your art or have him come to the game.   

That was a long time ago. My dad is long gone. He is sadly, as suggested, mostly forgotten. The truth is, he is always present - he lives on in me. He makes up part of the circuitry of my being. He is clearly connected to the negative pole to take the analogy to fruition. 

I suspect that deep down my dad had a low opinion of himself, and he unconsciously took it out on everyone else. Because he was a chauvinist, he took it out on my mom and older sister the most. But no one escaped whatever particular kind of hell his life was. I expect his life was hard, probably beyond what my memory can conjure up when I recall being around him. Did he do the best he was capable of? I can't answer that. Putting myself in his shoes I can't imagine being the head of a small household with seven children and the chaos that produced. It might drive me to drink too.

We knew almost nothing about his young life. He never talked about it. The little time we spent with his side of the family we learned very little about his childhood. Be that as it may, I can surmise it was much like the existence we lived. I don't think he was shown an abundance of love and encouragement by his own dad. The question is, how deeply did his negativity and self-loathing get buried in my own sub-conscious? Is it the reason I tend toward the negative, despite my life-long battle to resist it? 

I made a conscious decision early on that I would not be like him. I didn't want to be a negative presence, a bitter, angry man. To a person all my siblings made this decision. On the outside it seems we have succeeded. I can't speak for my brothers and sisters, but unfortunately my kneejerk, unconsidered reactionary self always seems to descend into Gordon-like behavior as a default condition. 

I quit drinking 30 years ago to the surprise of everyone including my wife. I started to see history repeating itself and I had to put a stop to it. Looking back, it was one of the most important decisions of my life. Who can tell, but I might be dead by now had I not stopped. I was never accused of or even suspected of being an alcoholic, but I knew that was my destiny had I not pulled the plug. I never attended AA or any recovery program, I just quit cold turkey. As AA alums know the drinking may stop but the self-destructive behavior does not necessarily end. For me it manifested in a negative attitude toward anything or anyone that was better than me. It was easier for me to drag someone down than to consider my own short comings.

I hated this about myself. When I'm aware of my tendency to descend into negativity, I fight it, I fight it with everything I've got. When someone shows me their fabulous house or magnificent truck, something that I never could hope to afford, I am genuinely happy for them, not jealous. They either worked really hard for what they had, or somehow had tremendous luck, I am not any lesser because of it. When something good happens to another person, or they accomplish something truly meaningful I am happy for them, and my praise is real. However, when I am not on top of it, my mind goes into Gordon-mode.

For my dad no one was all that great. I don't ever recall him truly admiring anyone. He would talk over the back fence with the neighbor for an hour and then walk back into the house and declare that guy a jerk. We'd be confused, weren't they just laughing and joking, having a good time? The only time he was at all pleasant and not negative toward the world was when he was drinking. Fortunately for us he was a happy drunk. He could be a mean, bitter man when he was sober. So, when he finally quit drinking, you can imagine his demeanor 24/7.

Dad had his good points, obviously. He bore his responsibility to his family. He went to work every day; I never remember him taking a day off or calling in sick.  He instilled in us a good work ethic. He brought his paycheck home, not to the bar. He paid his bills and put food on the table. Although we avoided him every chance we could, he was there, he was not an absent father. Ironically, uncharacteristically, he did something that absolutely changed my life. One day out of the blue he brought home a really, really nice guitar and gave it to me. There had been this old nylon-string guitar in the house that was handed down from brother to brother through the years. When it landed on me, I learned to play it. He must have heard me playing through the closed bedroom door and it spurred him to do this completely unexpected act - for me. He gave me a real guitar! I became a musician and continue to play to this day, probably due to that one act. For that I'm eternally grateful to him.

I'm now 60+ years old, he's long gone, but I still struggle with his legacy. My early programming is still in resident memory, but it's unfair for me to lay the blame for my attitude on him. By now I am my own man, and my negativity is my own. I've already seen my own negative behavior manifest in my son, and it's disturbing. He's an adult and my time with him is now limited, but I try to be a positive influence when we're together. The damage is done as it relates to his formative years. My daughter is a different story. We never had a relationship built on such negatives. Outside of the usual behavioral corrections we had a pretty good rapport. Although there's no telling how my demeanor back then infused her with the instant anger that I showed toward inanimate objects and things. I see it in my son directly. I am confident I've shown them both love and encouragement as well. Now it's just me and my wife, and I know sometimes I need to act better toward her. I am trying, to be sure. I am a work in progress.

I Had a Moment...or two

 

I Had a Moment... or two

by Craig Willms

All summer I had been careful to mow around a particular weed out in the backyard. Early on my eye caught what was the faintest splash of fuchsia in the center of this weed. Today I was out mowing again, the grass is finally growing since we'd had a few rare soakers lately. I was in a mood, irritated by something that had happened earlier that morning, I was out of sorts and generally pissy. Then I saw it...

The weed had grown, and the splash of color was now revealed. What I had assumed was a tiny flower was actually the plant itself slowly changing color. It was as if someone had sprinkled colored powder on it. It was beautiful. My mood brightened and I realized then that this plant and its transformation was a sign. This simple beauty wiped away my frustration and rotten attitude. I had had a moment.

This is what life is about, these moments. They are so few and far between these days or so it seems. When you're younger the cumulation of your entire life is compressed, slowly unfolding as time passes. Those rare moments aren't necessarily that rare and you gave them almost no attention. With time these moments are so spread out that you can miss the significance unless you pay attention. We live on a magical world, and we tend to take it for granted. I know it's just a weed, but it has meaning to me.

By the way, my daughter, an amateur horticulturalist, identified the weed as Purple Goosefoot, widely found in Mexico, I'm in Minnesota. What a treat!

So, a couple a weeks back I was watching the grandkids at my daughter's house. Me and the middle child, a girl, were out in the backyard. There was a patch of clover, and I was telling her that all clovers have three leaves. It was extremely rare to come across a four-leaf clover and it is considered good luck if you find one. 

She set about looking for one as I walked across the yard and sat in a chair in the shade. I no sooner sat down, and she was there "you mean like this, grandpa?" There in her hand a four-leaf clover! I was stunned.

I'm sure we've all found a four-leaf clover or at least seen one - they are rare yes, but not unknown. But to find one within seconds of setting out to look for one is amazing. I'm thinking that was a moment too. I can now recognize it. I hope somewhere in her memory she'll think back to that day. It's possible, she's five now and our memories can stretch back that far. 

These events, these moments as insignificant as they are, only serve to remind us that these little things and those small occurrences are meant to be savored even if for only a few seconds. Being around children helps as they bring to us long forgotten experiences and the feelings of simple joy. We oldsters need to keep our eyes open and recognize them for what they are. Moments.

I Had a Moment...again, and then again

 

I Had a Moment...again, and then again

by Craig Willms

I can't believe what I saw today. We had a very slight rainstorm, there was hardly enough rain to even wet the road we were driving on. My wife said - oh, look at the rainbow! Sure enough there was a section of an arc of a rainbow in the distance. We were driving toward it, and I was looking at it intently because something seemed a bit off about this rainbow. This rainbow was too wide. Suddenly it struck me it was two rainbows. It was not a double rainbow, which we've all seen, it was stacked rainbow.

In other words, there was one rainbow stacked on another. The original rainbow was brighter and more pronounced, the second, fainter rainbow was immediately below the first. I could detect even a third rainbow which was so faint as to seem like trick of the eye. I had never seen anything like it before. 

Of course, I looked it up on the Internet and lo and behold there it was. These rainbows are quite rare, as they require very specific conditions in order to form. It is called a supernumerary rainbow, also known as a stacker rainbow. The supernumerary bows are slightly detached from the main rainbow, become successively fainter along with their distance from it. The picture above is from the Internet as I was not in a position to take a snap of the one I was seeing, but that is what I saw. Amazing! 

I may never see a stacker rainbow again - I definitely had a moment. However, that's not the only amazing thing I saw this week...

I was standing on my driveway looking up at the clear blue sky where I spotted a bald eagle circling in long lazy arcs. Then I spotted another also circling directly below the first, wow, I thought, that's cool. I looked higher in the sky and saw another large-winged bird circling above the other two. This one was so high I could not make out a white tail or a white head. I assume it was also an eagle because I was then stunned to see another circling above the treetops. Taking it all in I was seeing four bald eagles circling one above the other in a column. I have never seen anything like it. I've seen plenty of vultures circling, but never perfectly stacked in a column like that.

When I was young it used to be a treat to see even one bald eagle. Thankfully they've made a remarkable come back and seeing multiple bald eagles is not a rare occurrence anymore. This was something strange and different. I don't know what behavior I was observing, but I assume it was a rare sight. 

A moment indeed.

Small Dogs

 

Small Dogs

by Craig Willms

I'm a dog lover, always have been. I qualify that by stating I never liked certain dogs. I'm not a fan of pit bulls or dobermans, and I'm not a fan of small dogs, you know those little yappers, aka ankle biters.

All my dogs were large and lived outdoors. I didn't like dogs living in the house. Time passed and our dogs have left us, and we found we were sharing the house with a couple of cats. I was never a cat person either. Over the course of 15 years, I came to love the cats, a lot. I was stricken with grief over our little Bella when she left us suddenly and unexpectedly. Maybe because it was sudden, I felt so much more for that cat than I did any of the dogs whom I loved straight away. That's a study for another day, I'm still unclear of my inexplicable feelings for that, that, that cat.

A year or so later my pregnant daughter asked that we take in her "little" dog to cut down on the chaos in her house. They have two small children and a big chocolate lab already. We gladly took Willow home. Willow is mixed breed with Pomeranian and some other small breed. She goes maybe 6 or 7 pounds if that and is literally a little puff ball. 

We had her a little over a month and I found that -oh my God- do I love this little dog! She is the sweetest animal I've ever known. Never mind that she's extremely well behaved, she is so good as a house pet and sleeping buddy (she has a little nitch in the Lazy-Boy recliner we share). She sheds a little and shreds a little, all of which can be easily overlooked. What strikes me the most about her is that she is 100% love and 100% trust. She is so small that she trusts you unconditionally when you handle her. She never struggles or shows any annoyance. She just exudes happiness. Yes, of course she is a yapper, and suffers little dog syndrome, not understanding that she's tiny. But she is such a joy!

Again, I surprise myself, first cats and now this. I'm not easy to change, being as conservative in my lifestyle as I am with politics. But change is good - in small doses... Willow is about as small as they come.

Procrastination is thy name

 Procrastination is thy name

by Craig Willms

"Procrastination has served me well," he said with a wry grin...

That's what I tell myself anyway. I'm starting to rethink this with each passing year. Having retired there is almost no claim on my time, therefore I should be doing or planning to do all the things I wanted to do when I had the time. I'm not. Something else is going on.

Procrastination was always thought to be a purely mental function, you know, laziness, aversion to thinking, lacking the gumption to follow-through, stuff like that. The reason we put off intentionally the doing of something that should be done, comes from a decision made inside the brain. Wait. What if it's not? What if there's actually a physical cause? 

I'm only half joking here. Obviously, I'm rationalizing my reticence get up off my ass and do something! As I get older, I've found that even when my brain has made the decision to do something my body just sits there. There are times I'll spend ten minutes sitting in my Lazy-Boy mentally contemplating getting up until I've forgotten why I wanted to get up in the first place. Even in situations when my wife is screaming something only the dog could hear, like seeing a bug on the wall, I've already grabbed a paper towel and killed the bug. In reality, I'm still trying to get up. The decision to save my wife has been made by my brain, but my body is balking at getting out of the chair. It feels physical to me.

This is a weird phenomenon. It might just be me; I don't know. That worries me. Rationally I know that I don't act on a whim like I used to - it's largely an energy issue. The older you get you'll find you just don't have the instant energy you use to have. By the time you reach 60 you notice the loss of muscle and strength and you wisely don't do things you once did. You've become clumsy... Even if you take care not to hurt yourself by trying to do what your body can't do anymore, it's different when you don't even want to. I think that's what's bothering me the most. 

This is real procrastination, the kind where no rationalization is valid. When you're young, working and raising kids you haven't the bandwidth to do everything you'd like to, even things you should do. You are constrained and taking on more might not be a great idea. Now, there are no excuses time wise, or priority wise. You are just paralyzed with empty excuses. 

I've also noticed that I lack any real creativity these days. Creativity in my past was inspired and, in a sense, released into the world as if it was always there, poised in the starting blocks waiting for the sound of the gun. Now it feels forced. I'm speaking as an artist and musician, who has been more of a mimic than a trailblazer - but there have always been sparks of genuine vision and conception - it's all gone now. That is what I think has led to my profound procrastination these days. I can't even think of what to do, let alone do it.

Men in general are motivated by doing things more than talking about it. Women are usually the opposite. That's just a hard-wired reality, it's not wrong or right, just the way it is. Therefore, when we men get old and tired and lack the vim and vigor we once had we tend to sit there and do nothing, or putz around as I like to call it. Women continue to talk. I definitely procrastinate far more than my wife. She, being roughly the same age still gets things done (often by gently reminding me to follow through) and thank the Lord! I can't imagine how staid I'd be without her.

My situation is probably not all that unusual, but how would I know, men don't talk about these things. I have all the time in the world, but I don't pick up the phone and call my friends or my brothers and sisters just to talk. I probably should, but then they'd think I want something, if I don't then they'd worry something's wrong. See what I did there? Rationalize much...

Right now, I'm procrastinating on how to finish this thought. I'm not seeking answers as they probably do not exist. I should give it some real thought and get back to you... Nah, I don't want to, not now anyway.

Re-re-evaluating

ALL POSTS BEYOND THIS POINT ARE ARCHIVES OF A DEFUNCT WEBLOG THAT ENDED IN 2014. 

THERE IS NO DISAVOWAL OF PAST WRITINGS. THESE POSTS REFLECT MY BELIEFS AND THOUGHTS DURING THAT PARTICULAR PERIOD OF TIME. 

CW

No, I'm not shouting it's just an unusually long headline!!!

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I brought this blog back to life back in May of 2013. It was an effort to get away from bloviating on the politics of the day. I wanted to concentrate on larger structural, cultural aspects of our society, chronicling the devolution of America. However, I've found that the politics of the day is the largest contributor of this devolution. The forces that are tearing apart our society and culture (in my view) cannot be separated from the personalities and their shenanigans. So I've found that I'm kinda back where I started.

Judging by the massive readership of this blog and the jam packed and electrifying comment section I have come to realize it's just me shouting into the gale forces of the blogosphere yet barely even contributing to the din. Listen, sometimes I was making a great point and even presenting an angle I felt wasn't getting proper attention. But was it worth the electrons used and the synapses expended putting fingers to keyboard? Probably not. Did I feel better afterward? Not really.

I read an interesting piece the other day about a former leftist activist who upon opening her eyes realized that everything she had done up to that point had been motivated by anger and hate. Even after the object of whatever particular hatred she had was dispatched (or retired) she just moved on to the next without skipping a beat. It was when she realized she had no friends or even acquaintances on the "right" that she reached out for the first time in her life. Though she vehemently opposed their views she found many right-wingers were motivated by love and family and church and community and not necessarily hatred and anger like she was. The last straw was when she realized that while she said she hated the war when George Bush was President and protested at the drop of a hat, she never took part in any protest when Barack Obama took war action. Why? She didn't hate Obama. War didn't matter - hatred did.

Why do I bring this up? I guess I question my own motivation for spouting off like this. Since hardly anyone reads this am I doing it for my own good? What good is it? Is it just my anger at the fools, charlatans and con men as I perceive them? Yeah, probably.

On the other hand, not all leftists are like this woman. Many, probably most, are motivated by by love and family and church and community too. I think they are completely wrong on many subjects but I don't think it's pure hatred that motivates most of them. Yes, there are right-wingers that are motivated by hate - though I think the numbers pale in comparison to the left.

The USA has a lot of problems -  fear, envy, anger and hatred are at the top of the list. I don't want any part of these things in my life. Blogging like this can only contribute to these undesirable attributes. In light of this I will be re-re-evaluating the use of this space...

bear with me...


Ugh

Short Hiatus...

I'll be tied up with personal matters for a short time.

Please stop by soon for my semi-regular super, super important messages.

Take care my friends,
Ugh

Sinner: Am I the worst?

The tag line of this blog is Surviving the American Devolution, with devolution meaning the picking apart of everything that made this country successful. Picking apart may be too mild, what I mean is the utter destruction of the good in favor of the wicked.

How interesting that I get such inspiration from a blogger from across the ocean. Regular readers (all 16 of you) might be familiar with the name Prof. Bruce Charlton.  He's an educator and scholar with a lot of wisdom to impart. His recent piece called Advocacy of sin is the worst evil: worse than actually sinning really struck a nerve with me. The implications are deep, but the evidence of its truth is so in your face as to be overwhelming.

Where does tolerance end and advocacy begin. Will simply watching the spectacle of evil in my midst as it swirls through my life make me an advocate? Am I supposed to do something? Do I cast judgement on those who do evil, advocate evil? Am I not the worst of sinners if I do?

We are told not to judge, that God is the only judge. We are supposed assign unsurpassable worth to our friends and enemies alike, to acknowledge that we are the worst of sinners and have no right to look down on or feign righteousness over others. This of course is very hard to do. We have an innate sense of right and wrong, good and evil, we know we are "better" than real evil doers. But are we?

Charlton pins a lot of the evil in this world on the mass media - and rightly so. Since the media is not one person but a collective it is safe to pass judgement - or practice discernment if you will.

To Charlton's point it's a class of elites and intellectuals that stay above fray of debauchery, crime and violence while advocating the same from their ivory towers or media empire boardrooms. The devolution of America and the West is a deliberate act with a deliberate cause, but always couched in the language of fairness, equality and tolerance. Not to go along is to be targeted, labeled and intolerant bigot and destroyed - if necessary.

The two passages from the article that bring it home for me are here:

"The creed of the modern intellectual is implied-despair. Not the direct preaching of despair as a principle - but rather preaching of a set of non-beliefs that must lead to despair - because there is nowhere else for them to lead..."

"Having demolished (to their own satisfaction) the objective validity of God; the intellectual elites have recently demolished (to their own satisfaction) the objective good of marriage and family - and they are left only with a life based-on 'work and leisure'..."

We live in a society that calls advocating for fetuses and adoption a war on women. A world that has devalued men and boys, especially black men, to the point where many have checked out, preferring to be neither a husband nor a provider. A culture where white men choose to remain in a state of perpetual adolescence. Today a man can't say an innocuous word like honey or sweetheart in the presence of a woman, but a powerful female politician gets no push back when accusing a male politician of "showing women the back of his hand" and "grabbing her hair and dragging her back to the stone-age" with no evidence that any of it is true. Seems more like a war on men to me.

We see in this country the race baiters, who foment discord at every opportunity, never attempting to build on the tremendous societal progress made over the last 50 years. They support politicians who through destructive policies have done far more damage to minorities that the white majority ever did. The intact black family is a rarity in the United States. It's the intellectuals who have prescribed the replacement of the husband with a welfare check and food stamps. It was the intellectuals and the elites that destroyed public education in the inner city and removed any semblance of God from public discourse. In the process they destroy the hope of millions.

Do we need to ask where this is being driven from? Do we not know how the brainwashing happens? The enemy works through the mass media. In recent decades the facade has been removed. No longer is there any veil over the inversion of good and evil. In fact the inversion is celebrated, the anti-hero reigns.

The news media lies by omission, ignoring any story that belies the narrative they prefer. Good men, decent men like Mitt Romney are sullied by far less evidence than is proven against the media's own political darlings. Any media source that even slightly bucks the trend like Fox News or talk show hosts or certain Internet websites, find themselves slandered and marginalized in every possible discourse whether deserved or not - to the point that most the hatred comes from people who have never watched, listened or read them. Television and movies glorify graphic violence while the stars themselves decry guns and the scary redneck conservatives that venerate them. Family friendly (God friendly) movies often can't get funding, or distribution. If they do make mass distribution they are savaged by media critics while Quentin Tarantino movies are fawned over. Inversion anyone???

The mass media dominates the distribution of information, fads and fashion, it's ubiquitous and overwhelming - and enticing!

Getting to the point (finally) I am just as enticed, dazzled and susceptible to the mass media and cultural proclivities as anyone. I am human and a sinner after all. But am I an advocate for evil? I don't think so - I hope not. I have watched violent and overtly sexual movies and TV shows and enjoyed some of them. I have refused to watch others because they offend me. Does that balance it out? Are their areas in my life where I am inadvertently, unconsciously advocating evil? I work in an industry that many have called evil - I don't necessarily see it that way, but who is to say? It's confusing.

I understand we live life in the fog of war, a cosmic war, a battle of good and evil where the players can be disguised. All we can do in the world awash in evil is to try to not consciously aid it. I don't know what else to do. I can only hope that my loved ones will point out those times I go astray.



Ugh

Life's Little Irritations

Life's Little Irritations...

Yes, they are many. In a country where there's more than enough to be thankful for, and plenty of things to complain about it's the littlest irritations that really get to you. I start with those necessary rooms called public restrooms - but first answer me this:

Which one of these devices would you call hands free or touchless?

That's right they both are! So why when we finish our business in the public restroom are we now being forced to wave our hands around at the paper towel dispenser like fools. Who's bright idea was this? What exactly was wrong with pulling out the towel all by yourself? Somehow this is progress... Besides being completely unnecessary the damn things either 1) don't work or 2) spit out such tiny little towels that you are forced to wave your hands at it two or three times just to get enough dry you hands. Don't even get me started on those lousy air dryer things. Haven't we all been forced to wipe our hands on our pants enough already.

The modern high-tech public restroom is a study in the art of "just because you can, doesn't mean you should." I understand the very real need for those spring loaded or sensor controlled faucets. Most of them actually work and probably save countless gallons of water. OK, chalk those things up as winners. 

All you men will surely track with this one - ladies too for that matter. For us men standing at the urinal, one of those touchless, self-flushing urinals, we are supposed to be protected from actually having to touch that germ laden flusher when we finish up. The system is supposed to detect that you are not standing there anymore and flush automatically. Marvelous. Except when you're standing there daydreaming or just enjoying a good pee and the damn thing flushes prematurely spraying you with filthy bacteria from every Tom, Dick and Harry that peed before you. Besides getting all over your clothes and hands it sprays all over that private part too. How are you supposed to wash that in public and still keep your dignity. Ladies, I'm sure the very same thing happens with those good 'ol automatic toilets too. What a mess. If you are planning to wash your hands anyway, can't you just push the flusher all by yourself? 

Automatic doors are another marvel of modernity. These can be extremely helpful in situations where your hands are full, or you are pushing a cart. When they work it is a seamless transition from inside to outside. In the old days when the sensors were built into the mat and the door opened outward away from the direction you were going it was the aforementioned seamless transition. Today with the marvel of infrared or radio wave technology the door senses you coming and is supposed to open. In fact most of the time they do. Yet, they never seem to be calibrated to match your stride so you have to stop and wait, a little irritation yes. Except today both doors open the same direction and quite often they bash into you or your cart if you fail to break stride. Progress.

How about those pay-at-the-pump gas stations. In general this is a great idea and wonderful time saver. Since we all use debit or credit cards the automated at the pump payment system is a marvelous modern enhancement. Except... If you consider the whole point is to save you time then why are we forced to answer a half a dozen questions? No I don't want a car wash today. No I don't have a rewards card. No I don't want to give you my zip code. No I don't want a receipt. NO I DON'T WANT TO DONATE TO YOUR FAVORITE CHARITY!!! OK, I made that one up. As my older brother once said why can't they add a "Just Gas" button.

The king of modern automation that everyone of us has dealt with to the point of vein popping frustration is the merry-go-round of interactive voice response machines. Nothing has hurt customer relations and brand loyalty more than "Press 1 for this Press 2 for that and Press 3 for the other thing". Unless you require something very basic these things almost never satisfy. If you are lucky you can press "0" or "#" and get directed to an actual human. Nine times out of ten that person can actually help you. Sometimes this is not an option since the final option they give sends you back to the beginning. Arrrggghh!!!

Now, if you are calling a government entity a human on the other end of the line guarantees you nothing. Have you ever been put into the call center merry-go-round? This is where one department tells you you'll need to call the other department. They give you a number to call and that department tells you you need to call another department - or worse - the department that told you to call them. Maximum frustration ensues when department one gladly transfers the call for you... click... dial-tone... Start over. Eventually you know all the "options" by heart and immediately start yelling at the person who answers the call. Now corporate call center agents are trained to be exceeding polite and calm (which can further enrage you) but a government worker is indifferent and will do anything just to get rid of you. "You have to call Department Two, would you like me to transfer the call?"

Arrrggghhh!!!

Ugh

PS have a nice day

The state of the economy: street level

Eight years ago my wife and I were doing a little paper route. It was for one of those local community weekly's. We did it for some exercise, certainly not for the money. We were fortunate enough to have the route in our own neighborhood. To set the stage this is a very very middle class neighborhood in the outskirts of a central city in a large metropolitan area. The average home was (at the time) probably worth about $160,000 and I'm guessing the average household income of $50,000.

This was a walking route with door to door delivery so we got up close to each house as we moved along. I remember remarking to my wife how nice almost all of the houses were, well kept up, fresh paint and little to no junk laying around. As we walked along we'd get ideas for landscaping and home improvements. There was nothing extravagant, it is lower end housing stock compared to the glittering suburbs just a few miles away, but it was nice.

Fast forward eight years. We now take our walks or ride our bikes through the same neighborhood for our exercise and fresh air. My how things have changed - and not for the better. Before when there was maybe one house per block that looked a little run down - or empty - now there are three or four at least. It's as if all home improvements/upkeep just stopped eight years ago. This spring there was a garage that literally collapsed under the weight of snow. It was probably a 50 year old garage, no different than mine in age, but mine is not anywhere near collapse. In addition to peeling paint and collapsing fences there are numerous piles of junk in some of  the yards.

There are numerous houses that sit empty, apparently abandoned. No doubt victims of foreclosure and job loss. Obviously these lawns are not mowed, snow never shoveled and sit in a general unkempt state. There are also many more immigrant families in the neighborhood and due to cultural differences or poverty these houses are often strewn with junk and abused. Where there has always been a problem with junk houses that mess was always inside the walls, these eyesores are outside for all to see.

Even worse is the city has stopped bothering to maintain the streets. In our neighborhood alone there were four water main breaks this past winter. Most of them are still pits in the ground, barely patched enough to prevent major frontend damage if your car should fall into one. Approaching mid-may now and we still have not had any potholes repaired.

As a measure of how the economy is doing it's like night a day. This is the kind of neighborhood that could permanently turn over and never come back to the state it was in eight years ago. This is how whole cities are lost - Detroit, Gary Indiana, East St Louis for example. There are already several neighborhoods in this 160 year old city that are beyond hope of ever returning to the condition my previously nice neighborhood was in less than a decade ago. If too many - pardon the expression - lowlifes invade or immigrants without American cultural sensitivity take over this neighborhood is toast. Young intact families will not move into the neighborhood to revitalize it. I for one will not be happy if that happens. The whole city will suffer.

The bottom line is if this moribund economy continues for even a few more years this is a scenario that will repeat in other currently vital big cities too. This particular city has escaped much of the urban decay that has ravaged the east and south over that last 40 years, but that's likely to end.




Ugh

Ugly is in the eye of the beholder

(I just don't want to see it)

I could never be a cop, especially a big city cop. Sure cops do extraordinary work at times, important work, work that needs to be done. Unfortunately they have to see the ugly side of humanity everyday, often the ugliest side. All too often cops see people on the worst day of their lives. I would become so depressed. I don't like ugly.

I don't like discordant music or poetry that doesn't rhyme. I don't like abstract art or so-called high fashion. I don't like (nearly all) public sculptures or 1960's architecture. I don't like ugly.

What is ugly? I'm not sure I can even describe it, but I know it when I see it. It can be something as inane as your favorite sports car with a hideous neon green paint job, to the full blown filth of urban decay. Like all things in this world everything has it's counterpart, with beauty you get ugly too.

Human beings can be ugly on the outside, that's just a fact. It's not that they're ugly that bothers me, it's when other people insist on trying to convince them they're not - they know they're ugly!!! However, it's the people who are ugly on the inside that you have to worry about, am I right?

I would make the world's worst movie producer. I happen to like happy endings, but I also like happy beginnings and happy middles too. Conflict can be so ugly. I realize that even schmaltzy romantic comedies need conflict. There is literally no entertainment value in movies that have no highs with the lows or conflict with the harmony. Good thing I'm not a movie producer.

I have a hard time with some TV shows too. Cable shows like Dirty Jobs where Mike Row engages in a series of jobs that are so down right ugly it is impossible for me to watch. Same for a show called Life After People which depicts the world after all humans are gone. It chronicles the pace at which nature consumes mankind's footprint. It's not that humans left an ugly world - it's that an unmaintained civilization turns ugly. While I rather enjoy those post-apocalyptic movies I just wish someone would take some time to clean things up a little, the apocalypse can be so untidy. Those various "picker" shows make me think I'd just as soon light a match to those disgusting sheds and barns as I would enter them and start picking stuff up. It's not just the quasi reality shows or disaster movies that are ugly to me. I thought the doctor show called House had as it's main character just about the ugliest human being I've ever witnessed.

Then there's music, the very essence of mathematical beauty and melodious harmony. It can be perverted into something grotesque and down right evil. I get that some people like devil metal - or whatever it's called - but it is ugly, ugly music. Same goes for hard core rap, it's ugly and harsh, rather unpleasant to listen to. While extreme jazz and long-haired classical music may not be my thing I can appreciate the beauty in it. Even country music and hip hop have elemental beauty to them. Years ago I couldn't figure out why whenever my teenage daughter was in my car I was so irritated... Now I realize it wasn't her - it was that ugly music that was blaring out of the radio.

The place where ugly is truly detrimental is in relationships and human interaction. We've all have ugly relations with people in our lives. Some people thrive on it. Some people like to fight. I'm not one of them. I'd rather everyone be happy, or at least for God's sake pretend they are happy. We can't escape ugly behavior, it's part of life. I think just about the ugliest thing I've ever seen was a man (if you want to call him that) who purposely picked at his wife in such a derogatory way that no matter what she said or did it was cause for getting smacked. That piece of %$@# thrived on ugly. To see this beautiful young woman so deeply humiliated and depreciated (and physically hurt) was more than I could take. I was too much a mouse to do anything about it. It was 30 years ago but I have never forgotten it. Wife beaters in my book are the second lowest form of life right after child abusers.

I used to like watching boxing matches, not any more. Mike Tyson made it a classless and ugly sport. Today boxing has all but been replaced by, get this, something so much more civilized, ultimate fighting. This is where two men get thrown into a cage and literally beat the snot out of each other. I'm not sure what is uglier, the modern day gladiators in the ring or the bloodthirsty audience cheering them on. It's disgusting in my book, pure ugly.

It's often said beauty is in the eye of the beholder, and that's true, but then so is ugly. Sometimes people are just being polite or they are deluding themselves when it comes to things beautiful and ugly. Not every baby is beautiful, sorry moms. And little dogs with bulging eyes are not cute, they're ugly. A Siberian Husky with sky blue eyes, now that's a beautiful dog.

No one person has the final say on what's ugly and what's beautiful, but people should be honest with themselves, I'm just sayin'.



Ugh

Hi There...

I am re-starting my blog after some months of contemplation. I'm not exactly sure what it will be just yet, probably rambling essays of some sort. I am going to avoid politics and current affairs for the sake of politics and current affairs, and instead focus on the culture and unfortunately what I see as a devolution of humanity in general and America in particular. Of course it will be difficult to avoid politics and hot topics, but I don't intend to focus on any particular politician or any particular story as it were. Who knows...

See you around,
Ugh

Hiatus

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*****************************UPDATE:****************************

January 2013

I am seriously contemplating revamping this blog into something else, no more current affairs or politics. However, I don't have a clue what I want to do - yet. Blogging on politics is like shouting over a jet engine, it's pointless. Since no one really cares what I have to say anyway nothing is lost. The fools (criminals) who are running this country into the ground don't care about anything but themselves and I should not be surprised nor flummoxed by it anymore. 

So, when I think about the things I love I realize I already have a web presence for my original art www.static-art.blogspot.com . I have website for my original music www.facebook.com/youngcraig61 . I also have a neglected website for "Reviews" that I've done over the years  http://www.sacracyliac.blogspot.com/ .  I love my family and Jesus, but neither is "blogging" material in my eyes. The family is off limits and I don't have an evangelistic bone in my body. Jesus Christ may be the most recognizable person in world, but He is also the most misunderstood and misrepresented person (mostly by Christians) who has ever lived. I have no authority to try to set anyone straight...

So, hope to see you around sometime, whoever you are. When I come up with something I'll be back.

Good luck!
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 original post

Am I so out of touch? Do I have views so off center? How is it possible, even cosmically, that every single thing I voted for  - everything - lost.

I feel like I live in Alice's Wonderland. As an example the voters here in my city have voted to give the school district more millions. There is absolutely no evidence that the last millions they received has done anything but lowered outcomes once again. Obviously I'm just not seeing the wisdom and really ought not to bother myself and just pay up...

Having lost interest in current events in one fell swoop this blog, such as it is, is going down. I have no idea when I might be energized to give a crap again. I can't even rightly ask anyone to stop by now and again - I probably won't be here.

I plan to turn introspective - largely because no one gives a damn what I have to... Mmm forgot where that was going. Whatever.

I do plan to keep my online art website going. So, if you land here CLICK HERE to see some pretty pictures.

So long




CW

Living in the Present(or Drifting with the Wind)

Over the past year - or maybe longer - I feel a change in myself. Not a drastic flip or any weird fundamental transformation, just an "easing" if one can call it that. It's nothing I can put my finger on but I definitely feel it. For all I know it's a function of getting older, but I suspect it's more than that.

For the longest time I felt like I've was just drifting through life, not taking control and descending into a rut where I would rather people just left me alone. This included my wife, my kids, my mother, my siblings, my friends and my co-workers. I was a daydreamer, a serious daydreamer. I was waiting for  this or that to happen so I could be free to pursue a real life. Of course those "things" never happened.

Last year I had some health issues - serious, yes, but I'm alright now. There's little doubt that this had an effect on my outlook, facing your mortality will do that I suppose. During the trying times I remember walking around our place and thinking I really need to buy one those, get one of these, fix up that, organize this before winter etc etc, and then stopping to think how utterly unimportant it all was. It was just stuff. Mostly stuff that will be tossed out when I'm gone anyway. The things I valued were just things. What I was missing was the value of the people in my life and the relationships I had put off. For so long, too long, people were a hassle to be endured - and that included myself. I needed to change that.

Don't for a minute think I've succeeded, not yet anyway. I am trying to stop, think and act like a decent human being, a citizen of a Godly kingdom instead of a self righteous, know-it-all of 21st century Earth. Reaching out, making an effort to connect and re-connect with family and friends or just engaging with the people in your daily walk is the first step. This is far more difficult than it would seem.

Our modern world has us focus on ourselves so much that we exclude or shut out everyone else. This busy, busy, hurry up existence saps our energy and provides the convenient excuse we all use to keep everything at arms length. I see it with young people, young men particularly. They build electronic/online relationships and then spend all their waking moments in cyber-land. They miss out on so much. For young women there's texting, e-mail and, of course, Facebook that gives the appearance of connecting with others but it's superficial at best. We ancients aren't immune to it - obviously - as I sit alone typing this out into an Internet blog.

The thing is computers, TV shows, football teams, smart phones and cars can disappoint us, but not like people do. People require real relationships, with these other things it's nearly always a one way street. They don't require much from us - no true emotion anyway. Our cats and dogs require a little love and attention but they give it back in spades, but people, people are so demanding - especially loved ones.

It's called living in the present, being present. It's difficult to do. When my wife and I started going to a new church earlier this year - a teaching church - this was one of the first "lessons". Being present, being engaged where you are with the people you're with. I am becoming convinced that it is the secret of success. And yes, this too, is difficult to do all the time.

Now that I'm conscious of the concept and have seen the benefit of engaging I plan to start to get involved with my own life - and then maybe I can pay attention to you too.



CW