Shake, Shake, Shake Señora

"Life should not be a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in an attractive and well-preserved body, but rather to skid in sideways, chocolate in one hand, martini in the other, body thoroughly used up, totally worn out, and screaming WOO HOO what a ride!"

I've seen this quote several times before.  I love it.  I love it because it reminds me life is not to be taken too seriously.  Life is for the living!  It is to be seen, and felt; enjoyed and marveled at while the chance is here.

On the other hand, I've also read this passage several times before.

“And there shall also be many which shall say: Eat, drink, and be merry; nevertheless, fear God—he will justify in committing a little sin; yea, lie a little, take the advantage of one because of his words, dig a pit for thy neighbor; there is no harm in this; and do all these things, for tomorrow we die; and if it so be that we are guilty, God will beat us with a few stripes, and at last we shall be saved in the kingdom of God.”

It then goes on to call this false, vain, and foolish doctrine of those with stiff necks, high heads, and prideful puffed up hearts who are ripe with iniquity, revile against all that which is good, and shall be thrust down to hell and perish.

Polarity.  One side fears missing out while the other would rather be safe than sorry.  

Friends: Here's my perspective.  And, I like to think it's encompassing for either side. 

If you are making your way through this life without addressing your fears, you are doing it wrong.  We cannot grow from that which we already know.  There must be a challenge faced.  Facing your fears equates to eating vegetables for your psyche.  It will make you stronger, healthier, and more balanced.  

I once sustained an ankle injury.  As I stepped gingerly along the rest of the day, my opposite foot began developing blisters.  Compensating for my weakened ankle was taking its toll on the other half that had to make up the difference.  So it is with our emotional well-being.  Avoiding the painful points and the troublesome spots will lead other areas to compensate in unhealthy and debilitating ways.

This new year, along with dieting and weight loss, quitting smoking, becoming closer to God, and all other cliché resolutions that perennially resurface, consider giving yourself the most empowering objective of all: let yourself be vulnerable.  It is a gift, and it's beautiful.  Find out what frightens you the most and face it.  Live long enough in the land of discomfort and it will become fertile with flora.  Build strength from within and watch as it radiates through your veins to all other facets of your life.

A therapist once taught me a valuable lesson on intimacy.  "Everybody always thinks of being intimate as being close; feeling safe and comfortable," he said.  "But, it's actually the opposite.  You want to know when you're being truly intimate?  When you're hand is shaking because you're terrified of the next thing that's about to come out of your mouth…that's when you know you're being really intimate with someone."

Let those hands shake!  Not a missionary handshake, not a won-the-tennis-match shake, not a Family Feud shake, but a tremor, a tremble, a quiver like my Grandpa Ernie who fought Parkinson's disease for 15 years!  

Take a risk.  You will be glad you did.

When the Circulation Bell Starts Ringing, Will We Hear It?

Let me explain something to you all: I've never been very militaristically minded, but I know enough to there is a war going on. A war called consumerism.

You want the lowest expense, but businesses want the highest profit. This creates opposing sides. War on!

When facing opposition, the element of surprise is crucial for gaining an upper hand. Notifying the enemy that you will have 12,000 troops camped out on the banks of the Mississip is not the wisest decision. Also, the art of negotiation becomes pivotal. It's best not to perfunctorily surrender at the first terms presented.

Thus: rather than planting a flag for a day, if we actually take a page and learn from our historical brethren we'd know that announcing we'll have 15,000 consumers camped out on Macy's doorstep may not be putting our most ferocious foot forward. Likewise, mad dashing to gobble up toys and flat-screen television sets in an atmosphere where a glance at the listed price is optional seems like they say jump and we say "how high?"

Take it from my mentor, Spur, a man of the land who knows a thing or two about cattle driving.

Spur--At the first hint of snow, every beast on this plateau heads for the bluff. Warm pocket, good forage. Gather them up with a butterfly net.

Jim--How do you know?

Spur--Well, I don't always eat wallaby, son!

Now. You Black Fridates go to your room and think about what you've done. And, don't come out until you're willing to apologize!

Finding the Unison of eHarmony

Did you know when Adele sings "Never mind, I'll find someone like you" there is never any harmony?  It's true.  In today's hit modern music it is nonpareil for a song to be barren of harmonizing backup.  But, perhaps Adele is on to something.  Perhaps Adele doesn't need backup.  She doesn't need harmony.  She needs the note; the one note; her note.  Perhaps this is a one-person song.  A self-song.  Someone like YOU.   

When I mull over what I'm looking for in a spouse, basically it comes down to one thing: I want someone like me.  How conceited does that sound?!  I know, I know...  But, at least I didn't say someone like my mother!  (How ungrateful does THAT sound?!)

Here's the deal...  It's not about love.  I love several people with whom I could never have a successful relationship.  It's about what I seek in a partner.  Partnership is collaboration.  It means both people bring something to the relationship.  I don't expect to be given anything more than I'm willing to offer.  But, I do expect to be matched.  

Growing up I was taught a successful marriage is any marriage that incorporates shared values and goals.  Basically, any two people who share the same goals and values can wed and build a successful marriage despite whether a romantic relationship exists or not.  

Sociologically speaking, this is probably accurate: build a successful marriage--yes; but, a happy successful marriage--meh...take your chances.  Personal revelations have lead me not to discount or take for granted the powers of temperament and bond.  Opposites poles may attract, but like molecules bond.*

It's not that certain differences can't apply.  I certainly don't want a clone.  We don't need to see eye-to-eye on everything.  I've dated people whose favorite color is different than mine, who like different music than me, have different political and religious views than me.  But...remember that old saying it takes one to know one?  I feel like I...me...who I am...what I can offer...my essence won't be fully appreciated and/or loved sufficiently unless it's by someone with similar aesthetic.

Neither cast ye your pearls before swine, lest they trample them under their feet, and turn again and rend you.**

Swine rhymes with wine.  Here's a story about wine! (transition A+)

I used to work as a server in a restaurant.  Two married couples who shared a connoisseurship for wine would meet at the restaurant to share their yearly finds.  They had nine bottles of wine between the two of them!  Obviously more than enough to share!  So, they did.  

They offered me a glass of at least five of the nine wines, often accompanied with gregarious marketing.  "You NEED to come take a sip of this wine.  This wine is guaranteed to change your life!!"  "This one is perfectly sweet and light and fresh...one swallow and you will never let another plum wine sit before you again!!"  "Here.  Just take this glass in the back with you...when you get a break, you can try it.  But, beware!  It may take you several minutes to recuperate.  It is THAT GOOD."

I let them continue to think I was refusing their wine because I was on the clock.  They were so generous to offer it to me.  Their gusto was palpable and their zeal was winsome.  But, the truth is, I don't drink wine.

I have no doubt on the trained tongue the wine was everything they claimed.  But, to me, it was repellent.  It held no allure.  As they described and advertised the wines, I often didn't know what they were talking about.  Nor did I care.  Never having purchased or tasted wine before made me completely unqualified to appreciate their connoisseurship.  

There I was, the apathetic swine, nonchalantly trampling the pearls they cast before me.  Fortunately, I was just their server for a couple of hours and not someone to be saddled with the next 50 years.  Marriage, like any other project, is a project to be completed successfully, and thus requires a synergized crew.  

If you were putting together an opera, who would you assemble?  Singers, composers, a director...  Different facets, but all with an eye and appreciation for opera.  Likewise, it takes more than just players to make a football game.  Referees, coaches, (debatably) even cheerleaders.  When building a house, would you hire a construction crew or a biker gang?  

Comrades on a construction site are not likely to feel safe if half their crew is replaced by nail-gun wielding cheerleaders.  Nor would a coloratura soprano fair well in the Monday-night lineups.  And, a football referee would probably blow the whistle on singing through a 3 hour opera.  

In order for these projects to succeed they require people with a common passion, ability, or expertise.  

So, what kind of project am I?  Unfortunately, my friends, I am the worst kind of project: an enigma.  What does that even mean??  I don't even know what an enigma is!!  Precisely.  No one does.  

Were I an opera, I would need an enthusiast.  Were I a football game, I'd need a fan.  Were I a construction site, I'd need an expert.  But, some things are indescribable.  For some things there are no words.

I certainly have a rare if not unique way of viewing and handling the world.  This commonality is what I need to find in someone else.  Not necessarily someone with the same view, but someone with the same je na sais quoi.***  Someone who at least appreciates and loves my view.  Someone who is inspired by the way I think and speak and inspires my thinking and speaking.  Someone with the same synergy.  Someone with whom I can be as comfortable as I am with myself.  Someone like me.

I tried to put all this on my profile, but for some reason eHarmony told me the "What I'm Looking For" section had exceeded the allotted number of characters.****  

Footnotes

*This sounds like something that could be usurped as a catchphrase for the Gay Marriage Movement.  I assure you, I did not intend it that way. 

**This is a perfect example of what I'm talking about in this article.  Most people probably think I'm quoting the bible.  Only someone with my same aesthetic will know I'm actually making an analogy between myself and the lead character from the classic MGM musical, Seven Brides for Seven Brothers.

***This is another perfect example.  Who uses words like that?!?  Only someone like me.  #idiosyncracticsentences #enigma

****I don't really have an eHarmony profile.  I probably should.

Epilogue

Oprah once made the comment there are no Christmas decorations with black angels and immediately her mailbox was filled with photos, cards, and black angel craft projects.  If I were a celebrity, I'm sure I would receive thousands of letters detailing examples of working marriages despite the participants being polar opposites.

I know there are examples out there.  However, I would also argue these couples are probably more similar in the areas that count than they outwardly seem.  

What counts and what does not differs from couple to couple.  Partners in crime versus sweethearts, for instance.  We also don't often wear what counts on our sleeve.  Rather than dissecting the ways a couple is different, note the ways in which they are the same.  My hypothesis is the similar areas will be nearer the heart and hold more weight than the differences.  Personas and attitudes are not the same as goals and values. 

My Job: A Summary Through Similes

My job not only demands biting your tongue idiomatically, it's like biting your tongue literally.  

You chew flawlessly every day.  The jaw goes down, the jaw comes up, your teeth meet, rinse & repeat.  You perform this task hundreds, thousands, even millions of times without incident or acknowledgment.  But, the one little time you slip up your body will not let it go unnoticed.

"Nice job, dummy.  You screwed up."

Never mind all the days and all the times you did everything correct.  Never mind your 99.9% average chewing success rate.  No appreciation there.  No, the only thing that matters is when performing this one particular bite, this one particular time, on this one particular day, you failed.

And, it's very important to make you wince and feel the throbbing so you won't repeat that .1% behavior again.  Because that .1% is overshadowing the 99.9% and killing business.

My job is like meals at a restaurant.

I have a friend who use to say it's always more fun to experience the magic than it is to create it.  It's true, isn't it?

For my mom's birthday every year we would go out to dinner.  And, every year my mom would push away from the table and contend, "That was delicious.  And the best part is, I didn't have to make it or clean it up."

All we see is pretty food on a plate.  All we taste is yummy on our tongue.  We don't see the years of education, and the hours of labor--the chopping, slicing, marinating, deboning, mixing--the slaving over a hot stove all day, and the sinks of suds and grime.  All we see is the appetizing part; the pretty picture; the flower when it's in bloom.

Every year thousands of tourists patron Holland to see the tulip festival.  Visitors marvel at the magnitude, the beauty, and the design, but months before almost no one is around to bend their back and get their knees dirty digging holes and planting bulb after bulb.

Sometimes people say to me, "You must have the best job in the world."  Not exactly.  On its most gracious days it's a half hour tulip festival followed by two hours of grimy suds.

My job is like eating chocolate cake.  

Miss Trunchbull, the unctuous, domineering, abhorrent antagonist of the book Matilda calls for an immediate assembly of the entire student body.  There, she brings a porky boy named Bruce Bogtrotter to the stage.  Bruce has been caught stealing a piece of chocolate cake.  The entire student body is on edge to see what vile thing she is going to do to Bruce.

She gives him chocolate cake.

The student body is stunned.  Even Bruce is confounded.  Giving him the thing he enjoys most seems more like a reward than a punishment.  Bruce happily indulges in the chocolate scrumptiousness, enjoying every bit of cake on the plate.  But, Miss Trunchbull doesn't stop there.

"You look like you enjoyed that, Brucey."

"Yes, Ma'am," he mutters with his mouth full.

Miss Trunchbull leans in closer.  "You must have some more."

She brings out a ginormous cake as big as Bruce himself.

Bruce shakes his head.  "No, thanks," he tries.

"But, you'll hurt Cook's feelings.  She made this cake just for you to have on your very own.  Her sweat and blood went into this cake and you will not leave this platform until you have consumed the entire confection!!"

"You wanted cake," she grumbles, "you got cake!  Now, EAT IT!!"

With each increasing bite Bruce's demeanor worsens.  His face is pale and woozy.  He looks like chocolate puke will explode any minute.  It's delicious taste has obviously become poisonous, yet Bruce is forced to shove forkful after forkful down his throat.

Even chocolate cake which is delectable and yummy in the beginning can turn venomous.

My job is like living in the land of Oz.

For a company with an open-door policy, there are a lot of people--wizards who hold our job and our fate with the company in their hands--who we never see, are never allowed to see, and who stay behind curtains.

We are not to pay any attention to what goes on behind curtains.

And there are many, many curious things that happen behind the curtains.

I suppose it's also like living in The Capitol.  There seems to be a lot of power and a lot of facade.  And, no one really knows the truth...

But, the one thing we do know is you don't whistle while The Capitol is watching.  And The Capitol is always watching.

My job is like a televangelist.  

People are willing to pay fortunes to those who can give them hope and the stability to dream.  Such is the product we're paid to peddle.  It brings out a lot of good and provides a lot of happy moments for a lot of people.  But, a quick look at the tax returns, expense reports, and company receipts provides its own enlightenment.

It's very informative to see where all this blessed money actually goes and where it doesn't.

What similes describe your job?

Comment and let me know :-)

Chicken of the Sea Cup

Isn't it interesting how chicken breasts and fish fillets look so similar to each other?  I mean, you could not have two more opposite animals than foul and fish.  But, fry them up and put them on a plate and it's difficult to tell the two apart.  They both have that oblong, tear-drop shape.  Yet, for a chicken it's only the shape of their breast while the shape constitutes the entire profile for a fish.

Do you know what that means??  That means chickens probably compare breasts by relating them to fish.  Fish are the melons of the bird world!!  The watermelons, the cantaloupes, the grapefruits, the oranges!  Chickens use fish euphemistically!

 

Rooster: Yo, Belinda!  Yous got some nice, juicy snappers, chickadee!

Belinda: Take a cold shower, birdbrain. 

An Eye of the Storm's Outlook on the Eye of the Tiger

I’m often asked my feelings toward God or religion--especially when people learn of my background.

The other day I watched media coverage of tornado wreckage in Oklahoma.  In the middle of an interview, a survivor amazingly finds her missing dog among the debris.  She is overcome with heavenly thanks and gratitude. 

“Well, I thought God only answered one prayer,” she tearfully whispers, “To let me be okay.  But, he answered both of them.  Because this was my second prayer.”

I put myself in her position: a catastrophe; out of control; everything you’ve known to be solid and steady your whole life pulverized in an instant; no match; forceless; powerless to do anything but let nature have it’s way with you...  And, I realized something. 

In such a situation, my immediate thought would be “So, this is it, huh.  This is how it happens.”  Solemn resignation.  No pleading.  No praying.  Just acceptance.

Calm amidst the fury; the eye of the storm.

And, that’s it.  That speaks for me.  It is probably the most accurate portrayal of me and religion I’ve ever come across.  

It’s not that I believe or disbelieve (neither is the case).  I just simply am.  I allow things to be.  I don’t need to know.  I am sufficient without hope.  Acceptance provides all the peace and comfort I need.  I wouldn’t turn higher powers down, but I don’t feel the urge to search them out the way others do.  Not even in times of ultimate turmoil when it often becomes convenient to do so.  I am content to accept any possibility.

It is paradoxical: 

Others commit themselves to religion the same as they commit to an underground shelter, escaping the storm in a place of refuge, security, and peace.  Contrarily, my resignation to any possibility leaves me untethered, giving the appearance of a scattered, shilly-shallying fool.  Those cemented in their basements see me solitarily roaming the vacant fields and no doubt view the decision as idiotic, irresponsible, and featherbrained. 

By all accounts an armorless, unprotected lad should be whisked away.  Yet, the opposite is true.

Rather than refuging in a box, the willingness to accept any possibility actually creates a center of security and comfort inside of me.  Essentially, I become my own shelter.  Therefore, it matters not where I go.  In my permeable state, I feel more grounded porously letting the wind whip through me in the middle of a field than the many people I observe scurrying to a bunker.

It’s interesting because--in our day-to-day lives--believing in everything and nothing at the same time would be considered spreading yourself too thin.  It’s not progressive and not recommended.  Retirement funds, spouses, children, heart-healthy living...anything that accumulates over time or has a critical period belong to people who make a decision and adhere to it unwaveringly.  However, the roles reverse when it comes to protection and defense.

The man equipped with a castle, shield, crossbow, spear, catapult, boiling tar, and even large pebbles is better befitted for battle than a man who carries one small knife in his pocket.  Rather than being spread thin, his accumulation amounts to a fortress.  The first man is prepared for anything, the latter must hope he encounters a very specific foe.

The same is true for the modern-day weapons: words, ideas, and intent.  Openness to accept any possibility is an automatic absorber, which means there is never any need to deflect or counterattack.  Standing poised to hear any idea or opinion, and willing to accept the amount of truth in it--no matter how small--nips offense (which leads to retaliating defense) before it starts.  

The most common response to hurtful words is to defend oneself by firing back with stronger, more potently hurtful words.  However, where no offense exists, there is nothing to battle.  The best defense is not to fire back and hope your weapons are stronger, but to quell creation of a battle in the first place.

Imagine a man fighting a river.  He may slice the river to and fro, but he will not get very far in his conquest.  The man is battling where no battle exists: the man may have a problem with the river, but the river has no problem with the man.  The river acknowledges his presence but is too busy flowing past the man to fight.  The river won the battle before it even started.

There is no sense in fighting truth.  And there is truth in every opinion, i.e., everyone believes their opinion is correct.  Subdue arguments from spawning by examining the authenticity of the opinion rather than fighting it.  After all, it is up to you to decide whether you agree or not.  If you agree, then you and the man are flowing in the same direction.  If not, leave him be and float on by.  Though the blow of his sword be disagreeable, it has no power to change the course of your current.  Therefore, what does his sword matter?   

Like the river, perhaps the key to getting through this life is not finding the strength to fight (enduring to the end as my people call it), but recognizing there is no need to fight.  Fundamentally, the absence of fighting seems most peaceful.

The other day a friend posted Mark 5:36 “Don’t be afraid.  Just believe.”  He posts quotes like this often.  They are his boxing coach with a corner stool, waiting to give him a douse of water, a quick shoulder rub, and tell him to get back out there.  Their effect rarely lasts longer than a day and often only lasts a few minutes.

He is not alone.  Almost everyone I’ve encountered clings to Jesus as a bodyguard.  Someone to step in and deal with life's challenges.  When it all becomes too much it’s easier to shut off and let Jesus take the wheel.  The intriguing matter is, when Jesus is behind the wheel, it's not uncommon to be steered into thorny patches.

From my personal experience, as well as my observations of countless others, the Christian institution of hope humanity runs to for peace, love, and surety also correlates to depression, judgment, and crippling levels of self-loathing and flagellation.   I have never seen people beat themselves up or be more cruel to anyone than they are to themselves when they feel they are not appropriately measuring up to Christian levels of perfection.  And, perfection is an ever-present reminder.

Take the scripture for example: "Don't be afraid.  Just believe." carries the implication the fear exists because of a lack in faith, i.e., something you're doing wrong.  If you had enough faith, fear wouldn't be an issue.  Even in trying to convey strength and hope, it backhands with a cuffing reminder of imperfections.  The cuff instills further insufficiency in need of further back-patting, hence the child clings even tighter to Mommy's pant leg.  Like a shared syringe that first contaminates then vaccinates, gospel teachings first create insecurity, then offer sanctuary.  It is passive-aggressive parenting at its finest.

It is this variable-ratio schedule of rewarding that makes religion so addicting.  There is no doubt about it: religion is a drug.  Most people swallow it like a vitamin, seeing it as medicine to keep them strong or make them feel better.  From my observations, I think it’s used more as a narcotic, inducing inexplicable euphoric moods that crash down into unbearable lows when the high wears off.  Hence, the admonition for daily, minutely, even momentary upkeep: always a prayer in the heart and a scripture on the tongue; take a hit.  

I have sat for hours with so many people in the lows.  People frightened and searching for the strength to govern themselves.  It hurts my heart to see people tormented with pain I believe unnecessary.

People trust their feelings firmer than anything else.  But, feelings are easily created and even easier manipulated.  I have witnessed this first-hand.  And nothing does it more swiftly than religion.

It is easier to govern the world than it is to govern oneself.  It is also easier to let oneself be governed than it is to govern oneself.  Yet, there is nothing more beneficial.        

I do not vehemently oppose religion by any means.  Though I find the way people look to the source of their anguish to be the same source of their remedy most intriguing, I support religion and all those who choose to abide by it (I also support all those who do not wish to abide by it).  I have seen it provide many great things for many people.

People believe the world would be a better place if everyone believed in Christ.  I believe in kindness, love, acceptance, empathy, understanding, and that the world would be a better place if people refrained syphoning so much of their power into an external source and instead learned to provide that power internally.  

Self-actualization is my religion: the achievement of one’s full potential through creativity, independence, spontaneity, and a grasp of the real world; the process of establishing oneself as a whole person.

When it comes to an afterlife...I am open to many ideas.  But, when it comes to this life and getting me through it...  Saviors may take a seventh, eighth, ninth, and even tenth day because I was born a generator.

Burn, Baby, Burn!

Went out to burn a few calories today unaware I was the one about to be burned.

As I was running alongside the road a man rolled down his window and shouted, "YOU WILL NEVER.  LOSE.  WEIGHT!!"

HAH!  

Come again, coward!  I race for the cure anyway!  I already have the slogan for our T-shirts: Alopecia Releash-Ya!  It's a clever, rhyming play on words.  That's right; I'm clever AND running, despite living with alopecia.   

So, if you think you may dampen my spirit more than this sweat dampens my shirt…  NAY, sir!  A [health] HEART-Y nay, I say!  

In fact, just to spite him, I actually DOUBLED my heart rate by keeping pace while sobbing uncontrollably.