Category Archives: A words

Animalism

dictionary with letter A

Animalism: (n.) behavior that is characteristic or appropriate to animals, particularly in being physical or instinctive.

I think it is possible to appreciate members of the animal kingdom while still being candid about their limited capabilities, and often vicious tendencies.

People who do not respect the teeth of the lion often get swallowed up in their error.

But what bothers me the most about the animal kingdom is how we, as human beings, who have been granted great heart, spirit, intellect and physical abilities, have deteriorated these gifts to the more base representations.

So our emotions are animalistic.

For instance, our movies and art fail to portray the sensitivity available to us as human beings, but rather, expand on the aggressive, selfish and dark aspects of hapless iniquity.

And I am certainly fed up with a spiritual animalism which turns the life of Jesus of Nazareth into a human sacrifice, complete with the members of the cult cannibalizing over his remains in some symbol of religious consecration.

As it pertains to intellectual animalism, I am bewildered why we think the accumulation of knowledge with no application of wisdom does any good for us in our progress as a species. I, for one, have grown weary of people who are smart but unwise. I am tired of hearing debates, serving up facts without allowing for the smorgasbord of human heart.

And let me be the first one to say that I am appalled at the physical animalism which has taken human sexuality into the realm of unashamed pornography. There is nothing more awkward, comical and tender than human beings having sexual relationships with each other. To turn it into a circus act or some sort of abusive domination of power, where one person is subjugated, is a glorification of the mating season, with beleaguered females being raped by their male counterparts simply because nature demands the encounter.

I am willing to be part of an animal kingdom which I respect and caretake. But I am not willing to take the beauty of my heart, soul, mind and strength … and allow them to be defined by the rules of the jungle.

 

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Animal

dictionary with letter A

Animal: (n) 1. a living organism that feeds on organic matter, typically having specialized organs and nervous systems 2. any such living organism other than human beings

Sometimes I feel like a cop, standing in the middle of a thoroughfare, attempting to direct traffic, with two huge trucks bearing down on me from different directions, seemingly unwilling to yield.

It’s how I feel about the overbearing nature of the secular community playing “chicken” with the zealots of the religious contingency.

One group screams that human beings are “just animals,” knowing it will aggravate their adversary, as the other gathering of souls touts the eternal nature of our being and the need for God.

I have found in my life that when you maintain a philosophy and speak it aloud more or less just to annoy others who disagree with you, you not only lack the power of your own conviction, but you are infiltrating the world around you with unnecessary conflict.

I decided a long time ago that human beings are monkey-angels. There is no denying our similarity to the family of animals but there is little doubt that we have some DNA in common with the angels of God.

I don’t know why we can’t come to this conclusion:

  • I think it would be nice to have a member of the animal kingdom who has graduated to a spiritual sensibility for respecting the planet and caring for the weaker members of the jungle.
  • Simultaneously, I think there is a certain adorable quality to us motoring a spirit but being a trifle inept in steering it.

As John Merrick, the Elephant Man put it so well, “I am not an animal.”

Perhaps better phrased, “I am not just an animal.”

There is a living, breathing soul within me that aspires to the Divine … while wallowing in the mud.

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Anima

dictionary with letter A

Anima: (adj) Jung’s term for the female part of a man’s personality; the part of a person that is directed inward and is in touch with the subconscious.

I grow bored with a culture that gyrates between religious conviction and the pursuit of science.

Recently when I suggested to a friend that God, Science and Nature were the same living Creator, he became vehement at the assertion that his deity of intellect could be permeated by any sort of religious terminology whatsoever.

But if you just look at it logically, whether from a Biblical perspective or a scientific one, both of them agree that men and women are not really that different.

We focus on subtleties and we tout the cultural conflicts that are created by our own miserable manifestations, but when you get right down to it and you’re looking across the room at a man and a woman, it isn’t exactly the typical vision of the Great Hunter carrying his spear with his woman trailing two steps behind, hauling the papoose.

Actually, we’re so much alike.

I remember the first time I went on the road with two women in a music group and we ate at a Mexican buffet and came back to lounge and watch television. One of the young ladies ripped off one of the longest, most intense farts I had ever heard in my life.

I was startled–and not just by the volume and change of odor in the atmosphere. The fact that it came from a female body was foreign to me, against all the training I had received about the delicacy of the female form.

Likewise, when I was in a locker room with a friend who had broken his toe during football practice, they took off his sock, and when he saw the bent digit pointing eastward instead of north, he started to cry, worrying about what his mom would say and whether he would be able to put on his shoe to go to the dance on Friday night. This was our rough and tumble fullback, who suddenly, right in front of my eyes, turned into Cinderella.

Yes, I feel that the more we try to be male or female instead of embracing our humanity, the more ridiculous we become. I think in future generations they will laugh at our insistence on roll-playing.

Do I have a woman living inside me? God, I sure hope so. There is so much I like about women–so even to have a few ounces of their poundage of personality would be terrific.

Do I believe there is manliness living inside the women I know?

Absolutely.

So I don’t know whether these attributes are really male and female, but rather, just human qualities that are earth-friendly.

Therefore, whatever Jung came up with is okay with me as long as it’s not portrayed as an aberration, but rather, a true discovery of how much we honor one another by possessing portions of one another.

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Anguish

dictionary with letter A

Anguish: (n) severe mental or physical pain or suffering.

One man’s severe is another woman’s menstrual cramp.

Therefore, when is it permissible to share your feelings concerning the load you carry? When are we allowed to admit that we hurt?

Because honestly, I have grown up in a world where complaining is permitted and hated at the same time.

Of course, I personally don’t complain. I merely cite examples, while others around me drone on incessantly about their often irrelevant needs.

How do you develop a sympathy for what one person considers to be severe anguish while secretly wondering if they’re just wimping out?

Is there a time to tell people that they’re wimps? Or is that just, in our modern-day society, considered to be another form of verbal bullying?

Over the years, I have learned that there are small windows–tiny little openings that are available when we can share our heart and be candid about our misgivings and pain. It is brief, it is personal and to exceed the time limit or guess wrong and ram your head into a brick wall instead of sticking it through a window is extraordinarily socially embarrassing.

So I have developed the idea that I will listen to almost anyone for about two minutes if they feel the need to flush out their anguish, and will only excuse myself when people either start to repeat themselves or insist that there’s no hope for solution.

We all have different thresholds of pain.

To ask individuals to adapt to my style is just as aggravating as if I were to demand they change the color of their skin.

But intelligent folks learn when to share, when to pray and even, to some degree … when to suffer in silence.

 

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Angst

dictionary with letter A

Angst: (n) a feeling of deep anxiety or dread, typically unfocused, about the human condition or the state of the world in general.

I don’t want to be one of those people who pursue so much optimistic hopefulness that I fail to recognize what is necessary in order to maintain our present integrity.

Yet I have to wonder if it’s possible for the human race, in this season, to acquire both of the necessary portions that make us worthy of continuation.

For I feel it takes progress and process.

Yes, I think technology is wonderful, and I do not want to go back to a time when we had no computers, racism was extolled as normal, and antibiotics were not available for sickness.

I am not nostalgic for backward times.

However, by the same token, making progress without honoring the process of human character which honors the feelings of others, makes the world a dangerous place and certainly volatile.

It produces angst.

We become afraid that we will lose our progress if we honor the process. Or we preach the process and become “anti-progress,” making ourselves appear Neanderthal.

Is it possible to be a human being who realizes that progress needs to be made emotionally, mentally, spiritually and physically, without ignoring the values which make the process of living so much sweeter, and ripe with goodness?

We always attach the word “angst” to teenagers, but I am not convinced that a fourteen-year-old riding in a Conestoga Wagon with his parents, crossing the Great Plains in 1850, had much time to reflect on his or her misgivings.

If progress gives us too much free time to bitch and complain, robbing from the process of busying ourselves about becoming better people, then are we really moving forward?

Yet if the process of maintaining civility causes us to be suspicious of every facet of progress, then the foolishness we maintain makes our belief system appear to be shortsighted.

What would it take to mingle progress with process?

  1. I will put to use anything at all that makes life easier, as long as it doesn’t hurt anyone else.
  2. I will acknowledge that there is no replacement for personal contact, love and gentleness with my fellow-travelers.
  3. I am ready to go forward if it doesn’t push someone else backward.

I think in considering this trio of principles, we can merge progress and process, to generate a climate of mutual benefit, drenched in compassion.

 

 

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Angry

dictionary with letter A

Angry: (adj) having a strong feeling or showing annoyance, displeasure or hostility; full of anger.

I’m sure many books have been written on this subject, but for the life of me I can’t think of one right off the top of my head.

The subject of which I speak is fighting dirty.

We all do it.

We have all decided what aspects of human behavior are distasteful and we attribute them to the people we’re fighting with, in order to make them appear out of control or mean-spirited.

For instance, I’ve been in counseling sessions when one of the individuals accused the other of “being angry.” Honestly, I didn’t think the other party was angry at all–maybe a little intense as they made their point, or perhaps energetic in their honesty. But as soon as they were accused of being angry, the immediate response was to become angry.

Thus the other person achieved the goal of portraying them as irrational simply by accusing them ahead of time of being in that condition.

I like to believe that people are not angry with me unless they finally speak aloud: “I am angry.”

In the process of refusing to be offended simply because someone is bluntly sharing opinions, I have on occasion heard truths which ended up being a great input to my soul.

But if I think everybody in the world is angry simply because they’re displeased with me, I am warning the surrounding community of human beings that they should be careful not to say anything in my direction which is not sweet or affirming.

If you want to know when people are angry, look for this simple sign: angry people can’t stay on the subject, but revert to the past.

Anyone who does not bring up your past, but stays on the subject, is not angry. Actually, they are making sure their opinions can be heard instead of rejected. But the minute they bring up the past in an argument, they are angry.

So here’s my conclusion:

I will listen to anyone share feelings about what I am presently doing, as long as they don’t travel back to my childhood, my personal choices in the past or my heritage.

At that point they’re just angry, and as a human being I find it difficult to discover a place to push off toward repentance when all I’m hearing  … is hopeless chatter.

 

 

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Anglo

dictionary with letter A

Anglo: (n) a white, English-speaking American as distinct from a Hispanic American.

What if there is no such thing as distinct?

I contend that we live in a self-defeating society. In the pursuit of honoring two separate concepts, which are contrary to one another, we end up with human beings who are contrary to one another.

The two concepts are:

  1. We are all individuals and unique unto ourselves
  2. We need to get along or we’re going to destroy each other.

Everyone knows that to get along, it is important to discover similarities. So if we’re constantly separating ourselves off with names, doctrines, political parties, gender, sexuality, color, age and taste in food, we are basically proclaiming that finding common ground is a futile task.

So what’s it gonna be? Are we going to revel in our little clump of individuality or are we going to discover a way to keep from destroying our world?

I personally think it would be more fiscally responsible to avoid annihilation. That’s just me. But to do so, we have to get away from identifying ourselves as Anglo, Hispanic, African-American, female, male, Coke or Pepsi.

Nothing truly significant is determined by stating that you’re any one of those compartments. For after all, there are:

  • Bad women and there are good women.
  • Excellent men and real losers.
  • Dynamic Hispanics and fairly worthless ones.
  • African-Americans which contribute to the success of life, and those who don’t.
  • Anglos who find a reason to get along with others and those who segregate.

I could go on and on. The criterion for human quality has to be something that is not visual, but rather, spiritual.

If we can establish that–that each one of us was granted a living soul–we can not only find similarities, but we can also begin to ignore our foolish differences.

So I don’t like words like “Anglo.” I don’t like to be identified as white, bald, fat, male, Republican or Democrat.

If you would ignore everything but the human eyes and peer into them, you would realize … that we all look the same.

 

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Anglican

dictionary with letter A

Anglican: (adj) relating to or denoting the Church of England or any Church in communion with it.

If my only job were to teach and promote atheism, I would choose, as a platform for my presentation, to just share pieces of church history.

In no time at all, the most ardent believer, based upon the information I shared, would shake his or her head, turn his or her back and walk away from the “stinky pew.”

Why? Because faith is meant to be a leap, not a step.

When men like Martin Luther, John Knox and John Wesley decided to depart from the Catholic Church, they eventually got around to holding committee meetings about who they would become, and ended up keeping much of the religious ceremony, traditions and superstitions of the Mother Church from which they allegedly wanted to orphan themselves from.

Nowhere is this more evident than in the Anglican Church, which, when it came to America by boat, became the Episcopals. With its founder, Henry VIII (an unlikely theologian) it continued to take on the heavy burdens and abstract practices of the Church of Rome, while loosening the belt on the underbelly of less important issues.

It is the problem with the religious system–at least in the Christian faith.

Even though we have a movement which dubs itself Protestant, there really isn’t a lot of protesting going on. What actually occurred in the Reformation was a reaction instead of a revolution.

Rather than returning to the teachings of Jesus, which would have expanded the vision of the Christian movement to include all cultures and all people, the Protestants basically embraced the teachings of the Apostle Paul, while sprinkling in portions of Catholicism.

Therefore, Christianity is the most “choiceless” option of spirituality available. This is why many of our young people end up dashing among Buddhism, Muslim, Judaism and agnosticism. Even the denominations that are much more relaxed in their approach, like the Pentecostals, still maintain the seeds of the Vatican, with communion, offerings, trappings and ritual.

The Anglicans essentially left the church of Rome because their King, at the time, wanted a divorce. There’s nothing spiritual about it, and until we actually have a soulful awakening, returning us to the tenets of our founder from Nazareth, the church will continue to be a jumbled mishmash of ingredients, thrown together in a dark kitchen, baked in the oven … with the aspiration that it will end up to everyone’s taste.

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Angle

dictionary with letter A

Angle: (n) the space, usually measured in degrees, between two intersecting lines or surfaces.

In the pursuit of our human journey of discovery, revelation and wonder, there are actually very few dead-end roads.

Yet we all sometimes dramatically feel that we have come to such an impasse–where choices have abandoned us and we are left staring into the Great Abyss. But honestly, most of the time–whether you believe it’s life, luck or God–some road intersects into your possibilities just short of falling off the cliff.

That road, joining up with our present march towards extinction, creates an angle.

What a great word.

Yes–there is always an angle allowing us to escape in the nick of time.

There’s even a verse in the Good Book that reinforces this idea. We are provided “a way of escape”–a road that joins our dismal retreat, allowing us to turn right or left, gaining a new perspective and no longer being on a dead-end street.

I have been part of many failing plans. Yet you don’t make money as a writer, nor gain fans, by discussing your dismal results. People normally like to hear about the successes.

But I’ve never had a success which was not a branch from a road heading toward failure, which granted me a new angle–a fresh perspective and a glorious reprieve from doomed conclusions.

It is too much to ask or demand, that we never have a set-back. Matter of fact, in an attempt to avoid such interruptions, we usually invite the possibility of disaster.

But when you’re on one of those dead-end roads that seems to be going nowhere, start looking for the turnoff … the miraculous intervention of opportunity that gives you an angle for escaping the great leap off the edge. 

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Angina

dictionary with letter A

Angina: (n) a condition marked by severe pain in the chest, often also spreading to the shoulders, arms and neck, caused by an inadequate blood supply to the heart.

I am about to show my true silly soul. It isn’t like it’s the first time. Yet my giggly tale is my particular reference on this word.

About seven years ago I went to an appointment with a cardiologist to have my heart checked. They do that kind of thing when you’re fat and they think you’re gonna explode.

I had basically been given a fairly good report and was sitting in the waiting room when another gentleman came and sat down next to me.

He immediately started chatting freely and was boisterous and filled with stories. I listened carefully because I felt maybe there was some false bravado, covering up his nerves about being in the inner sanctum of a heart doctor.

A few minutes later the cardiologist came out and asked the gent next to me to come back for a consultation. My friend, feeling his oats and comfortable with me, said, “Come on, doc. You can talk in front of him. Give me the news.”

Even though the medicine man, being very professional, was a bit nervous to proffer the report, he obliged. He said, “Sir, it seems you have angina.”

My buddy crinkled his brow. And then a big smile came across his face. He reached up, lightly punched the doctor in the arm, and laughingly replied, “Come on, doc. You almost got me, there. Angina?? You know I’ve got a penis.”

 

 

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