Rhetoric

The rain is pouring, the frogs are singing their little hearts out and all seems right with the world at this very moment, in this one place. I know there are serious problems in the world and even in our own country, but in this now - my now - all is well. If someone would have told me ten years ago, one year, one month or even a week ago that I would be feeling at peace and harmony with the world right now, listening to the frogs and the rain, I probably would not have believed it. Not that it would be so inconceivable – these things happen far more frequently for me of late – just that in the realm of realistic possibilities for this moment, why this?

And the answer is…? I haven’t a clue. This is what happened. It is as it should be, for if it weren’t, something else would be happening. It may or may not be of the same peaceful nature; it may or may not have been… It doesn’t matter. Whatever is served up is right on time and exactly proper. So, is this moment predestined?

Yes – no - maybe. The answer depends on, to a certain extent, one’s belief system. Are we self determined, masters of our own destiny, limited only by our fortitude, our confidence and our will power? Or is there a spiritual component to life? Is sentience a quality of spiritual beings? Is the road for our lives laid out like rails or can we choose only among a limited number of paths? Is it possibly some kind of combination; a veritable mixing of the oil-and-water nature of self-determination and predestination?

Rhetorical? Perhaps not. Perception is key. The hopelessness I battled with for so long revolved around these questions. I was searching for the answers never really believing they could be answered to my satisfaction. I could not conceive of any “proof” that I could possibly accept. I thought I was an atheist, but that would mean my lot in life was of my choosing. I couldn’t accept the notion of predestination because it left me wondering what the point could possibly be. I needed some sort of proof, yet my view of life was being dictated by beliefs that had no evidence to support them either.

My perception was skewed to say the least. I was trying to force the square peg of my black-and-white beliefs into the round hole that is life. The answer, for me, is not predestination, but it is also not entirely self-determination. I have free will, no doubt about it. I exercised it without limit for a very long time. I know where it got me. I also believe that there are a set of universal principles in the world. A rev limiter on self will, if you will. These guideposts are there to direct; they help to guide one to a peaceful and harmonious destiny – not a pre-destiny.

These principles have been described in many ways at many times and in many languages. They are ideals that exist independently of cultural and geographical separation. They are the likes of: Honesty, integrity, responsibility, acceptance, love, selflessness, and many more. Once realigned with these powers, allowing them to dictate the next direction I took, my life – or rather, my perception of life, changed.

And it is so regardless of the specific circumstances I may be surrounded by. Indeed, life did not change, my role in it did. My appreciation for the ordinary, the mundane, the chores and even the difficulties of everyday life does not reflect any change in those things. It is all about perception. It is the “half-full, half-empty” paradigm. Those questions are therefore not so rhetorical after all. And there is no right or wrong answer. To me, it doesn’t matter how peace comes, what matters is that it does. My words here are an attempt to open the mind to the realm of possibilities that may seam foreign, as they did to me – but have meant so much.

Even those who do not practice “right living” know what it is. We know right from wrong. I believe we are born with it - but I'm willing to concede it is learned. Again, it matters not - these principles have put me on the path to peace and gratitude. I have seen it in countless others. For me, I just had to find a way to do it. For that, I had to have something to believe in .

Peace.

Nature's Orchestra

Frogs! I just love ‘em. Really, I do. No, I’m not a frog fanatic with frog sculptures and pictures and stuffed animal frogs scattered about. Nor do I have any desire to eat them even if they do taste like chicken. And I don’t own any pet frogs. However…

There seam to be a number of them that are quite fond of me and my hospitality. They appear to have adopted me and they apparently feel quite at home here. As the sun sets every evening, a cacophony of croaking escalates into a soothing symphony that can be heard three houses away. It really is quite impressive – by the sound of it, there must be hundreds, but the number is probably much lower.

I moved into this home last June. In front of the house, just outside my office window and next to the front door is a decorative pond with electrically pumped brook babblings. It has a little cascading waterfall when I turn it on (which is rare). Sometime in the late summer or early fall, as if by magic, tadpoles appeared in my pond. This, I thought, is so cool! I discovered that the local Petsmart actually had tadpole food. In fact, they had two kinds, snacks and treats. Crazy!

So of course I buy the food and give them some according to the directions. They get bigger and bigger and soon they sprout little hind legs. I keep feeding them (they eat a lot and there are a lot of them) and I’m careful not to add any of the algaecides to the water (or any other chemicals) that may harm them. As careful as I was, their numbers kept on decreasing and it didn’t appear, judging by the ones that were left, that they had hopped off on their own.

Soon enough, they were all gone. Thinking my tadpoles didn’t have the genetic “right stuff” or that maybe some other predator may have got to them, I added the algaecide to kill off the growth that had begun to take over the pond. It worked and the pond was clear in no time. Funny thing though – I didn’t see any evidence of any tadpoles – dead or alive.

Fall turned to winter, the temperature dropped and the rain came. The New Year arrived right on schedule and with it, the croaking of just a couple of frogs. It is not unusual to see or hear critters in this area of Sacramento County. We are not far from the American River and there are numerous creeks and streams flowing nearby. In fact, there is a flock of wild turkeys meandering through the neighborhood on a frequent basis. Hearing a frog croaking here and there is not all that unusual.

Soon enough, the chorus grew and grew and continued to grow. There are times when I can almost feel it. Furthermore, they have taken up residence in and around my now algae-free pond! It was apparent where they were early on, but I could never “catch” them in the act. Every time I went out the front door they went silent. Eventually they got used to my presence and just ignored me.

But I still could not see them. I was baffled. How hard could it be to see this big old loud frog croaking the night away? Finally, I caught one. Well I didn’t actually “catch” it, but I saw it dart off a rock and into the pond to swim under another rock. It was about the size of a nickel. I thought that it must be just a youngster – that the big daddies were too clever to come out of hiding.

Over the next few days I saw some more. The situation was always similar to that first one - small, nickel size frogs. I still couldn’t figure out where all these big old frogs were hiding. Just a couple days ago it hit me: Those were the big old frogs making all that racket! There must be a bunch of nickel size frogs with silver dollar sized lungs (or whatever it is frogs have). Best yet… they were my tadpoles! Most of them apparently and every night they sing me a melody that is never the same but always familiar. It is strangely soothing – almost like being in tune with something much larger than myself.

I guess those tadpoles had to come from somewhere – I can’t wait for next year’s litter (or whatever it is that frogs have). Coincedentally enough, I have no bugs around the front of my house - I've got friends higher on the food chain!

Mr. Clemons

Courage is resistance to fear, mastery of fear, not absence of fear.

Mark Twain

1835 - 1910

HAPPY BIRTHDAY MOM!

Thank you for standing by me no matter what - even when things weren't looking so good.
I Love You,
Michael

A Kinder, Gentler Blog

I am feeling a little anxiety today. Actually, it has been building for the last week or so. I have not been my usual happy, go-lucky self and I think it’s high time I realigned with the powers that be and get re-centered. My last two essays (Nothing Personal & Sentenced to Die) have been somewhat critical if not downright negative and that’s not really what I’m all about nor is it what I prefer to write about. I am therefore recommitting myself to using this space for radiating positive energy into the world.

It has taken a few days to realize what has been happening. Like so many epiphanies, it came to me all at once, but while doing things my way for several days, the evidence has been building. All of a sudden – BAMM – there it is. I am not so “enlightened” that these brilliant flashes of the obvious happen instantaneously. I still have to bump my head, stub my toe and spill my coffee before I realize that things are not quite right. Eventually the unnoticed uneasiness becomes apparent thus enabling the introspection necessary to redirect. It was on my way to school this morning that this lightning bolt hit. I knew what was wrong and what to do about it.

I write for several reasons. Probably the most important is self-awareness. It is how I think best – slowly. When I’m in my head, my thoughts flow so fast that any analysis and refinement is near impossible. Clarity comes when I write. The next two most important reasons are of equal importance and in a way interdependent upon each other. I have a desire – a need to make a difference. To do this, I must write to be read. If no one reads what I write, then I am only writing for myself. There may be a wee bit of ego involved, but at the end of the day if I haven’t touched anyone, I’m just taking up space.

Although there is a place in my repertoire for political opinion – indeed, opinion in general, it is difficult to express my opinion without rejecting an opposing one. Opinion is confrontational by nature. Introspection, inspiration, life in general is universal. It is not a matter of agreeing or disagreeing with an opinion; it is a matter of identification. One may not understand or relate with my experiences or outlooks, but it is not in dispute as to whether or not I do.

It has been my experience that many life experiences are related, even those that initially appear to be completely different. The underlying emotions, the feelings… the lessons or wisdom that result, though unique in one sense, are universal in another. Many of my past posts are quotes from both ancient and living visionaries that speak of wisdom to which I can relate. Based on the comments I receive on these posts and comments on my own introspective writing, I get the vibe that there is something there. That somehow, maybe – just maybe, what I say and relay may be making a difference in someone’s life.

Although my hit counter has been averaging the same number of visits to my blog, the comments left behind have dropped off considerably. I am being read, but I am not really stirring any thought. My opinion pieces, though I believe them to be well thought out and eloquently delivered, will have to find a new home. They will no longer reside here. This is not a place for negativity, no matter how well written. This is not to say that certain problems will not be presented - they will. They may be personal as well as political, but they will not be just dropped here and left. They will only be presented as an example of how life can be trying, but with a positive outlook we can and do persevere. And it’ll be ok. Nothing is the end of the world, not on this blog anyway.

Bumper Sticker

I saw this great bumper sticker in a garage in downtown Sacramento:

DEMOCRACY IS NOT
A SPECTATOR SPORT

Truer words never written.

~Mike