Tag Archives: horizon

Cactus

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Cactus: (n) a spiny plant native to the New World

Draw a cactus.

If you’ve ever actually seen a cactus, you could take a piece of paper and draw almost anything, and it could be a cactus.

They don’t really have a typical shape, but kindly imitate the human race in being all sizes, not to mention configurations: one arm, two arms, little arms, big arms, stubby arm, tall arm, two stubby arms, and sometimes even multiple legs going into the ground.

They are absolutely gorgeous because they have so little competition for beauty. In the desert the standard for attractiveness is low. There is sand as far as the eye can see, and then the cactus–which juts on the horizon, offering visual diversion.

Rumor has it they have even been used to grant moisture to traveling souls who found themselves destitute of a cool drink. I don’t know the true story on that, but will pass along the Western fable without fear.

I like the cactus. I like the fact that when they get together they become cacti. Distinction after distinction for these tall ladies and gentlement.

(I guess there’s a female cactus. Why would I feel that way? Ah…I know. They’re prickly.)

 

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Attend

Attend: (v) to be present at an event, meeting or functiondictionary with letter A

RSVP.

I know they are initials for some French phrase. I could probably pronounce the words, but wouldn’t have the first idea of how to put them in writing. Basically, it means “please let us know if you’re going to attend.”

I was thinking this morning, as I got up early out of my bed to begin the day, how God produces a daily sunrise as an invitation to attend.

What could be more inviting than bringing light to where there was darkness?

What could be more enticing than a big ball of sunshine beaming across the horizon into your home?

And then, it remains throughout the day–until, as dusk arrives–it sets, welcoming the cool of the evening with a promise of “we’ll try again tomorrow.”

  • I suppose you could curse the morning.
  • Certainly you can “hope” your way through one day, looking forward to another.
  • Perhaps it’s human to take the whole process for granted.

But for me, I just believe the Great Party Giver in the sky uses the daily sun rising as His invitation to come and see, come and enjoy… come and attend.

 

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Aquiline

dictionary with letter A

Aquiline: (adj) like an eagle, esp. referring to the nose. EX: “hooked like an eagle’s beak.”

It arrives at about age twelve, and hopefully, by the grace of God, disappears on one’s eighteenth birthday. Honestly, it will not disappear if we allow its friends to come and shack up.

“It” is insecurity.

When I was twelve years old, I was convinced of the following:

I believed my nose was aquiline because my dad was German and had a hooked nose. I failed to realize that my mother’s genes were also in there, so my hook was not as pronounced. (I once referred to my nose as a “hooker” until my Aunt Minnie explained that the term was inappropriate.)

I also believed that my lips were very large and that I possibly was the love child of my mother with a black man. (There was no basis for this since there were no black people within thirty miles of our community. But I chose to believe my mother had made some sort of journey.)

I also thought my eyes were crooked, and began to tilt my head to the left to compensate for the poor horizon of my peepers.

Keeping up this craziness was the notion that my B were “pinned to my head,” which I assumed was the sign of some sort of mental retardation.

Moving along, I totally was possessed with the frustration that I had horribly chubby cheeks, so I tried to elongate my face by holding my mouth in the shape of a small “O” all the time.

This insecurity is present in all adolescents, and is only dangerous if it’s allowed to link up with intensity, culminating in a bit of insanity, which in adulthood can lead to plastic surgery, therapy sessions and late-night heart-wrenching honesty with your mate, drenched in tears.

I know we think the answer to this question is to convince people that “we are all beautiful just the way we are.”

But since none of us really believe that deep in our hearts, wouldn’t it be more logical for us to come to the conclusion that we’re all ugly in our own way?

 

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Alike

Words from Dic(tionary)

dictionary with letter A

Alike: 1. (adj) similar to each other: e.g. the brothers were very much alike. 2. (adv) in the same or similar way: e.g. the girls dressed alike

It scares the crap out of me.

And of course, anybody who would suggest that we, as human beings, are more alike than different would be pummeled by the masses and scurried away in an unmarked car, to oblivion by Madison Avenue.

For after all, if we cannot establish that we are different, how can we make ourselves special?

I don’t know when it happened for me. I think pretty early on, I discovered that the only true value in being a human being was finding other kindred and realizing how much we were alike.

  • I didn’t want to live on a desert island.
  • I didn’t want to crack my coconuts all alone.
  • I didn’t want to believe I was a snowflake and God made me unique.

No, I wanted to be part of a blizzard, falling to the earth in unison, creating a beautiful, sparkling horizon.

I’m not so sure we will make progress when we continue to tout reasons for differences among us. Our more noble adventures expel this idea as being “out of school.” Over and over again, in our more enlightened moments, we discover truth.

I’m talking about the Jeffersonian revelation of “all men being created equal.” The Good Book, establishing that there is “no temptation that is not common to us all.” We seem to stumble on the brotherhood and sisterhood of humankind, and in so doing, create such a commonality that it warrants a planet-wide “group hug.”

But then, just as quickly, we become prickly. We’re not satisfied to be followers of Jesus–we need another sub-division. Lutheran. Methodist. Baptist. And that still isn’t enough. We specialize that name with a more refined tradition, until eventually we convince ourselves that our ideas have germinated solely from our uniquely inspired brain.

If it were not so dangerous, we could just leave it alone. Yet after all, Hitlers are not birthed and promoted from the ranks of “joiners.” They are alienated, bitter, frustrated individualists who keep shrinking the planet down to a tiny few who have a vendetta against the remaining plurality.

I am odd. I keep looking for reasons to be alike with my fellow travelers.

When I see a homeless person on the street, I do not view him as an alien, but rather, a possible projection of myself years earlier, had I missed one or two paychecks.

When I see a woman, I do not consider her to be inferior or even separate from my own Eden spirit. She is flesh of my flesh and bone of my bone.

I fear for America because we believe in the excellence of our pursuits due to our superiority over others less fortunate. But since we are only the beneficiaries of such a blessed land because of freedom, and every person who is given freedom is free indeed, we should start trying to find reasons where we are alike with the world around us … or else we may find ourselves abandoned, cuddling up to our own conceit.

 

Abash

by J. R. Practix

dictionary with letter AAbash: v. cause to feel embarrassed, disconcerted or ashamed: she was not abashed at being caught.

So I was thinking this morning about what my favorite nightmares were. I guess “favorite nightmares” is the definition of an oxymoron. Maybe I change it to “recurring themes in the night-vision terrors.” Unfortunately, that phrasing smacks of too much drama.

Anyway, there are three events which inwardly terrorize my soul and if they were ever outwardly duplicated, I would be embarrassed–abashed, if you will.

First: My brain conjures visions of me being naked in a room in front of strangers. It is the personification of revealing my shortcomings. The anxiety that permeates my feelings during those apparitions often awakens me with a start–heart racing, chill running down my spine. I know there must be people who are totally confident about the prospect being naked in front of others, but truthfully, if anyone is going to see me naked, they must be willing to apply for the job, go through a drug test and survive three months of probation.

The second dream of horror is finding myself in front of an audience, and as I fastidiously and faithfully offer my gifts, the auditorium is gradually depleted by the viewers departing one by one. There you go. Apparently I am extremely embarrassed by the prospect of being abandoned on stage based upon my ideas or persona.

And the final example is driving in a car or some sort of vehicle, heading off for a destination which for some reason or another, is never achieved or even looms on the horizon–a frightening mixture of being lost and fully aware that I am in charge of the steering wheel, which has deposited me in the wilderness.

I guess the key is this: if you know what embarrasses you and you can be honest about it, you can avoid being abashed.

So I don’t like to be naked unless there is great profit and blessing to it in front of someone who is very forgiving.

And I don’t relish rejection, so I will use some wisdom in avoiding those who take pleasure in critiquing instead of doing.

And getting lost or running late obviously terrifies my soul, so an earlier departure and an excellent set of directions is my best remedy to such a fiasco.

Embarrassment is often what befalls us because we fail to acknowledge its existence.