Comfortable

Comfortable: (adj) clothes or furnishing providing physical ease and relaxation.

I didn’t become a writer because I favor timeclocks. Deadlines were always dead to me.

I avoid them.

It happened to me this morning. I got up in the middle of the night and enjoyed a creative time of scrawling and bawling. I often do that.

The sheer beauty of God’s Universe and the joy I have in emoting about it sometimes turns me into a silly little girl who just found out that the boy she likes
didn’t check the right box on the note she sent asking if he liked her.

So when I awoke again, at what would be considered a normal “getting up time,” I was not comfortable with such an explosion of energy.

Guilt slipped in.

I thought to myself, I’ve got to get busy–write my blogs and post my articles, prepare my podcast. Hardboil my eggs.

My God, without all of these responsibilities, who am I? I become just some sort of guy walking around, breathing air, enjoying life as it happens, appearing to be without reasonable constraints.

I rolled over.

Sure…my blogs are getting posted later today. I assume this will merely create intrigue rather than disapproval. And if there are people out there waiting for them, they shall have the pleasure of perusing them in the afternoon.

It is important on our journey to be comfortable. You can tell when you’re around someone who is festering a gut-full of tension, because all you have to do is suggest the idea of pursuing comfort in your adult life, and they will quickly explain why this is impossible, irrational and a sign of having a “Peter Pan Syndrome.”

Peter Pan wanted to stay young.

I don’t need to be young. I can get old…

Just as long as you let me be comfortable.

 

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Channel

Channel: (v) to take possession of a spirit’s mind for the purpose of communication

Standing in line at the local department store, I was listening to two young women discuss philosophy. Girl 1 said to Girl 2: “No one’s gonna tell me what to do. I’m my own person.”

It gave me pause for thought.

If we have eight billion people on this Earth trying to “be their own person,” we have an emotional explosion which is greater than any
megatons of bombs.

I don’t want to be my own person. I have met him. He is bland, mediocre, nervous, insecure and adds the disgrace of pomposity.

I need to channel greatness.

I would love to channel the spirit of Abraham Lincoln, who uttered, “with malice toward none and charity toward all” just a few days before he was murdered in a theater.

I would like to channel the moment that Thomas Jefferson decided to sheepishly write the phrase, “All men are created equal”–even though he knew he owned slaves.

I would enjoy channeling the fresh, creative, youthful energy of John, Paul, Ringo and George when they brought such singable and danceable music to America.

How about channeling the spirit of Jesus of Nazareth, who in the midst of ignorance and war, told the Earth to “love your neighbor as yourself”?

I would like to channel the spirit of the bear, who has the sense to know when to hibernate, the loyalty of the dog and the devotion of a woman to her man, her children and her cause when she feels that the circumstances are righteous.

And of course, it would be wonderful to channel the moment when God said, “Let us make man in our own image.”

I am not enough and never will be.

When I settle for me,

I end up cheating everyone I see.

 

 

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Cacophony

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Cacophony: (n) a harsh, discordant mixture of sounds.

To blend together as one while still maintaining the presence of an individual tone.

That’s what a band is.

You should be able to close your eyes and hear each magnificent instrument. It should not be a wall of sound. It should not blare. It should co-exist without disappearing.

Part of this is the sensitivity of musicians playing with precision while honoring their collaborators, and part of it is the ability to mix the sound in such a way that everything doesn’t blur into a cacophony of colliding notes which often do not seem to coincide.

Some people choose to go solo because they don’t believe it’s possible to find harmony. Other people have surrendered to the inevitable orchestration, often ending up as a cacophony.

It’s the same thing with people.

Freedom is not an overwhelming explosion of celebration; it is a distinctive melody played by each human soul, which is not smothered by the harsh overtones of the brassy.

 

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Bomb

Bomb: (n) a container designed to explode on impact

A red woodpecker.Dictionary B

I can close my eyes and envision such a creature. Maybe it’s because as a kid I watched “Woody the Woodpecker.”

A sirloin steak covered with mushroom gravy with a side order of garlic shrimp.

That’s easy for me to imagine. I have experience. I have eaten all of these foods.

A moist kiss on the lips with a mixture of musky breath and a hint of mint.

Once again, all in the annals of my personal history and awareness.

A bomb.

I have no experience.

I have seen more bombings on television than I have red woodpeckers, but because I have no real sense of the horror, the heat, the explosive range and the demolition, I am dealing with an idea rather than a reality.

It is why, when considering our enemies, I choose not to scream with the careless crowd, “Bomb the shit out of them.”

 

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Beacon

Beacon: (n) a fire or light set up in a high or prominent position as a warning, signal, or celebration.Dictionary B

Flashing lights.

No one likes them.

I suppose they’re okay on a Christmas tree. But if you’re in a room for a long time and the decorations are too garish, it can become annoying.

We were taught that flashing lights warn us of danger or at least, pending inconvenience. So I guess we need them.

Yet by the same token, a world without flashing lights is a sudden discovery of disaster without any way to prepare or avoid it.

Therefore a beacon can be one of the more unappreciated necessities in the world. They appear in our lives at a very early age.

For instance, you’re five years old. The first snow has fallen and you want to run outside and play–throw it in the air and maybe make a snow man.

You are stopped.

A beacon–your mother or your father–steps in and feels the need to take at least ten minutes of your precious snow time to don you in garbs which inhibit your free movement, all because they want you to be warm and not get sick.

Who knows if they’re right?

It isn’t like you can look back and say, “Yeah, because I wore my ear muffs and toboggan, I avoided a cold.”

No, it’s just an annoying flashing.

And then, when you become a parent and find the need to “beacon out” some piece of wisdom or counsel, you suddenly realize that you are the annoying, flicking going on in the life of a child who loved you moments earlier, until you interrupted the flow.

Case in point: I just finished seeing family for Christmas. One of my jobs is to be a beacon.

That means if I see something that could be ridiculous, dangerous or lead to unhappy conclusions, it falls my lot to flash out a warning.

God, it’s horrible.

For you see, everybody wants to be a cheerleader and not the director of the cheerleaders, who has to decide whether the skirts are too short.

Yet a world without beacons would probably end up being one big explosion of light, producing destruction instead of intermittent blinking.

 

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Ballistic Missile

Ballistic missile: (n) a missile with a high, arching trajectory, that is initially powered and guided but falls under gravity onto its target.Dictionary B

Speaking in the abstract is the most common way to end up with abstract thought.

Sometimes I am greatly confused how people who have absolutely no experience with some matter expound feverishly on the issue, displaying both intensity and ignorance.

That’s the way I feel about a ballistic missile.

As we deal with the many hot spots of controversy and conflict in our world, there are those wearing three-piece suits, ties, with freshly trimmed hair, sitting in Washington, D.C., who postulate on the need to aggressively launch air strikes against other nations to keep them from doing things which we have found unfavorable.

One day I found myself at a rally in Mobile Bay, at the coming-out party for a new battleship. I was not able to get on the ship since I didn’t have a pass, but stood about fifty yards from the vessel, as a dummy load of explosives was shot off into the air.

Once again, I was far away from the source of the explosion but the volume of that sound rattled my chest, giving me heart palpitations and leaving me unstable on my feet for the next half-hour.

It was terrifying.

So every time anybody mentions bombing, attacking or sending drone strikes to another country, I remember that sensation.

I often wonder how important it would have been for Harry Truman to have gone to New Mexico for the testing of the atomic bomb. Sitting in his office having it described to him made the decision to bomb Hiroshima too easy.

He had no idea exactly what he was doing. So when it came time to bomb Nagasaki, he rubber-stamped his decision and dropped a second annihilator.

It’s not so much that I question the wisdom of that move. Instead, I challenge the immaturity involved in making the decision.

If you’re going to pronounce death on a group of people, you should have an awareness of the power you’re unleashing.

I am tired of ignorant people talking about war like it’s a game of Stratego.

When a ballistic missile goes into the air, gravity brings it to earth–where it kills people who were once living.

 

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Adultery

Words from Dic(tionary)

dictionary with letter AAdultery: n) voluntary sexual intercourse between a married person and a person who is not his or her spouse.

Thou shalt not commit adultery.”

Yeah. That should handle it–similar to attempting to conserve oxygen by asking people to hold their breath.

Sex is not optional. It is essential to the human being–not because of the physical release, nor merely because of the intimacy. It is the blending of playfulness with a demand to confirm that we are attractive.

Thus, the reason why the practice becomes common and often distasteful in elongated relationships. Very simply, we remove the danger. We take away the lust and replace it with undying love. And true enough, maybe the love doesn’t die, but all the parts around it do.

Adultery will continue to be popular because people will flirt, and in the process of doing so, will discover they are attractive and instinctively follow up on that, even though later on they may feel guilty or find themselves in divorce court.

What we should be doing is holding seminars on how men and women can get along, be playful, flirt, and even agree to withhold sexual intercourse in order to enhance the spiciness of it instead of continually promoting the idea that the sexes are destructive to one another, suffering from irreconcilable differences.

I get tired of the word “unfaithful.” If we really think that faith is something we can possess without the evidence of works to follow, we are in “dreamy land” and are expressing an erroneous psychology instead of truly understanding human beings.

We lose interest because we’ve stopped being playful, removed the danger, ceased flirting and have passed on the impression that we’re “not quite as hot for each other.”

After all, there’s no such thing as having sex. It’s an awkward, stumbling, childish, foolish, clumsy, delightful, adolescent, jubilant, silly explosion–an accidental decision leading us to roll over on our backs, thinking: “I wonder if I should have done that.”

There’s no reason you can’t keep those elements in a marriage, as long as both parties understand that remaining appealing to one another is not just primping the outer features, but also constantly evolving the inner self.

I think using the term “adultery” is Old Testament. It’s really a fling. Sometimes we try to justify it; most of the time we avoid it.

But no one will be honest enough to say that adultery is inevitable if we allow the communication between each other to come only in one flavor … vanilla.