by J. R. Practix

Abound: (v.) Exist in large numbers or amounts.

I abound in pounds.

That nearly rhymes.

I was trying to think about all the things I abound in. For a brief season in my life, I abounded in money. Without sounding like an absolute nerd or a ditz, I didn’t particularly find the experience to be any different from having just enough money to meet your needs–because unless you plan to do excessive things that you really don’t require, like order in Red Lobster every night to be delivered by a valet service, let’s be honest: clothes are clothes, food is food and a place to sleep is all about your pillow.

The fun I had with money when I abounded in it was giving it away–which is why I no longer abound. Some folks think I should have thought ahead and kept some  money on balance, so that I would always be well-to-do instead of just temporarily well-to-do, and now mere mortal.

But if you remember, in Superman II, Clark Kent was willing to give up all the powers of Krypton to get a peek at Lois Lane‘s byline. So even if you’re a superhero, you might be willing to forfeit your abounding for something more important.

People are always talking about America abounding in wealth, education and freedom. I suppose so–but abounding isn’t nearly as much fun if you can’t share with others. And I never met a selfish person who really thought he or she WAS abounding–even when it was obvious they had much more than they needed.

So what IS abounding?

I guess abounding is the day that you feel comfortable in your own skin, and everything you really need … is inside there.

by J. R. Practix

Aborning: (adv.) While being born or produced: The idea died aborning (adj.) Being born or produced: In the 1960’s hippidom was aborning.
You must be “aborn again.”

Well, I don’t know about you, but I need it.

Sometimes I find myself stupidly trying to live within the confines of this tiny little cultural moment that I am squeezed into by the pressure of my society. I am tempted to abandon all of my previous experience and knowledge, and somehow recreate myself as some sort of seed which has recently fallen out of a pod to the earth below.

But that’s NOT me. That is the “me” who walks around frustrated because I feel out of step with a world that wants me to be in step before I dare step out–or else, get stepped on.

Hogwash.

I want to be aborn again. Here’s the life I desire:

• I want to have the rebellion of the ’60’s deep in my soul–so every time I see an injustice I speak out against it instead of just rolling my eyes and waiting on the world to change.
• I want to have the joy and revelry of the 1970’s, when we had the common sense to believe that even our suits should be leisurely.
• Simultaneously, I want to be a family man of the ’80’s, where I treasure the beauty of those close to me and appreciate the opportunity to be part of something nuclear which doesn’t blow up.
• I am not afraid to take on the technology of the ’90’s, which transformed us from a generation that was “lost in space,” walking around mumbling, “Does not compute,” to full-blown technicians, adept at computers.
• And I want to carry the true patriotism of the 2000’s, when we regained a sense of what it was to be an American–because American soil was tainted with blood.

I want it all. I don’t want to be some narrow-minded individual, even if that tiny path takes me to a conservative conclusion or a more liberal vista. I want to be a rebellious, joyous family man, hip to technology, who loves my country.
Is that too much to ask? Is that too much to believe? Or are we all just afraid … of too much?

I must be aborn again. Amen.