Coot

Coot: (n) a foolish or crotchety person, especially one who is old

I have officially become old enough to become a coot. I’m not sure what age qualifies you, but age is certainly a factor.

There are other considerations:

Coots always talk about “how good things used to be.”

Coots tend to refer to society as using a “handbasket on their way to hell.”

Coots pine for a time when they were younger and full of energy.funny wisdom on words that begin with a C

I honestly don’t feel any of that whatsoever.

Many of my growing-up years were filled with ignorance, prejudice, anger, self-righteousness and bloodshed in an unrighteous war. So I don’t yearn to go back—I just insist that there are two things the human race can’t live without, and we should cease deleting them from our browser.

Human beings must have empathy and self-deprecation. If you don’t like the idea of self-deprecation, then insert humility.

When we stop feeling empathy for the man or woman next to us, we become enemies to our own species, similar to a bee who plots with the flies to steal the honey.

And when we don’t produce adequate humility, the obnoxious odor that comes off our being chases people from the room.

I’m not an old coot.  I don’t care who you sleep with. I don’t care what your political party is. I don’t care what your faith or lack of faith might be.

But when you mess with empathy and humility, I will dig my heels in, because then you’re plotting the destruction of the human race—of which I am proudly a member.


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Condemn

Condemn: (v) to express complete disapproval

I am the John 3:17 of fame.

In other words, nobody really recognizes me as a top-notch scripture. But when I am perused by those who are in search of something a bit more intuitive, I await with a treasured thought or two.

Even though John 3:16 is the famous verse that tells us that “God so loved the world that He gave us His only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth shall be saved,” it is actually John 3:17 that explains how the gig works.

If there were only a John 3:16, God could sit up there in heaven and act like Amazon, waiting for people to call in their orders, follow the catalogue numbers, funny wisdom on words that begin with a C
punch all the right buttons and deliver them salvation.

But God’s customer service is actually much better.

That’s what John 3:17 is about. It reads this way:

“For God did not send his son into the world to condemn the world, but that the world through him might be saved.”

You see, I’m not so sure I’d want to be saved if I felt condemned.

I’m not so sure the threat of condemnation would frighten me into the arms of God. After all, I have a rather independent nature, and if I only read John 3:16, I might just walk away and say, “Screw you.”

But John 3:17 lets us know that God does not condemn us–that the purpose of Jesus was to create empathy and connection.

So while the world pounds away with its John 3:16 agenda, I’m going to hang around and remind people that they’re not condemned, they’re not judged, and that Jesus came to do more than bleed.

He came to let people know that they are treasured.

 

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Companion

Companion: (n) one of a pair of things intended to complement

I have concluded through my limited thinking that the best way to maintain one’s sanity and open the door to the possibility of joy is to avoid disappointment.

Of course, the problem is, trying to dodge disappointment does sometimes limit the scope, energy and possibility of taking on new funny wisdom on words that begin with a Cexperiences in life.

But when it comes to the role of companion–that being who links with you sympathetically, empathetically and nearly parenthetically…

Well, when it comes to a companion, disappointment can be especially devastating.

It may be difficult to get another person or another creature to love you as much as you love them, but it seems to me, without that input, much of what could be a blessing in our lives falls flat.

I was taught that in order to get a good companion, you had to be one. But all of us know you can be a good companion and end up with a dud.

Companionship requires two things:

Conversations where you make sure you’re on the same page together.

And a rip-roaring, bar room brawling sense of humor.

 

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Commemorate

Commemorate: (v) to recall and show respect for someone or something

Mediocre is always so busy dragging down excellence that it doesn’t have the time to lift up inferior.

Because of this, mediocre keeps sinking deeper and deeper into the sag of inferiority, desperately trying to change the rules of operation and the requirements for the rewards provided.

We have a system of entertainment and information that streams in our country, which feels the need to commemorate events by finding the heroes, the standouts and those who fared well, interview them, extol them and then, within short weeks, dig up dirt on them to prove there was really nothing exceptional about them in the first place.

Why? Because without this kind of reporting, Ma and Pa Kettle, sitting at home, start getting depressed–thinking less of themselves because they don’t measure up.

After all, the problem of going to a nude beach is that you’re fully aware that everyone is stuck with an eyeful of you.

How do we commemorate the attributes, the virtues, the kindness and the intelligence that sets the human race on fire with an explosion of knowledge and unveiling of great cures and advances?

Well, we certainly can’t do it if we spend all of our time mocking initiative and making it seem that those who portray a classy morality are really just stuck in the past.

These are the three great things we should commemorate if we expect to shine:

  1. Empathy

Any time someone feels for someone else, it is miraculous.

  1. Research

Stop settling for the status quo, and find a better way to accomplish things.

  1. Humility

The only way to achieve the first two is to be humble enough to know when you’ve made a mistake so you can change it quickly and improve your cause.

May we step out of our doldrums of self-satisfaction and begin to commemorate–and therefore imitate–those who are actually doing matters better than us?

 

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Colon

Colon: (n) large intestine or large bowel

Talk about “it’s a dirty job but somebody’s gotta do it.”

How’d you like to be a colon?

“What’s your job, Mr. Colon?”

“My entire function is to take the shit to the hole.”

I’ve had two colonoscopies in my life. That’s where they go into your intestine with a camera to make sure that it’s ooey-gooey and doing its job. They want to confirm that you don’t have cancer or polyps, which are possible precursors of the disease.

The first time I had a colonoscopy I went into the hospital feeling really bad. A beautiful young woman from China was my doctor. She was so sweet–but I knew
she thought I had cancer. It’s not that I believed I was free of the affliction, but I saw no particularly good reason to etch my tombstone until I had more information.

So they prepared me for the whole process.

The day before the event they brought in a gallon of fluid and told me to drink all of it in as short amount of time as possible. The drink loosens the bowels and empties everything inside–or at least, everything that is willing to be dislodged.

I was faithful. I pooped until my poop looked like water. (And that is a little weird.)

Well, long story short, she went in with her camera and found out there was no cancer and gave me a clean bill of health.

What I remember most about that experience is the legitimate joy on her face when she came to tell me I was alright. It was so intimate, tender and childlike that I teared up and cried.

Was I crying over her gentleness, or was it releasing tension I didn’t know I had about the possible diagnosis?

I don’t know. But it was beautiful.

So every time I go to the bathroom–well, nearly every time–I think about my colon and how patient it is to do its job.

And I also think about someone who was a complete stranger to me–a doctor–who possessed such empathy that she took a moment of grace and the memory of it will last for my whole lifetime.

 

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Citadel

Citadel: (n) a fortress on high ground

How can you take the high ground without instinctively looking down on those beneath you?

It became an issue in the recent presidential campaign. Both candidates insisted they were taking the high ground, while simultaneously
using the concept to proclaim themselves superior.

Unfortunately, any insistence on superiority renders us weakened by the kryptonite of pride.

I need a citadel.

I need a place where I can climb a little higher in my consciousness–not to peer down at the infidel, but to have the chance to see things the way they are, and not the way they appear at ground zero.

My life requires a sweetness of morality, a gentleness of empathy and an awareness of my talent.

In order to mingle these factors, I must don the cloak of humility. For humility is not the absence of ability, but rather, the evidence of it without needing to overpower all comers.

Yes–America should be a citadel.

Our faith should be a citadel.

My life should be a citadel: a piece of higher ground that does not insist on being worshipped because of its elevation, but instead, uses the bird’s eye to consider all the sparrows.

 

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Bumble

j-r-practix-with-border-2

Bumble: (v) to move or act in an awkward or confused manner.

Some things should be bumbling.

Yes, there is nothing wrong to bumble during certain events.

I think sex should be bumbling.

I think when we portray sex as a free-wielding, professional action done by two gymnasts, it loses its humanity, and also ceases to encourage the participants to talk to each other about how to make things better.

I think it’s alright to bumble over describing your achievements. This sense of over-confidence and “staring-the-devil-in-the-eye” defiance which is promoted in the business world just makes us look so much worse when we can’t back up our claims.

I think it’s good to bumble when you’ve done something stupid and in the process of apologizing, some tears of real repentance sprout, halting the flow of speech.

There is a charm to bumbling over answering something that you’re not completely sure is true, and cautioning those around you to check it out and confirm your accuracy.

It would be inspiring if a politician bumbled on a question, only to explain the delay by offering an unexpected, but divinely inspired, “I don’t know.”

We are so intent on coming across as adept, worldly and well-seasoned that we fail to realize that a certain amount of vulnerability gains us the empathy of people around us … who wish they had the guts to bumble.

 

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