Dalai Lama

Dalai Lama: (n) formerly the ruler and chief monk of Tibet

Religion reminds me of taking a machine gun to battle house flies, the premise being that the more bullets you have to destroy the varmints, the greater your chance for success.

The problem?

Unfortunately, you destroy everything in sight with your machine gun, just to dispel some annoying fly-bys.

As a human being, I am fully aware what qualities I appreciate in other human beings—and what I do not.

For instance:

I don’t like to be cussed out.

I don’t want to grovel for attention.

I like to be able to speak my opinion and have it heard, if not honored.

I can survive a bit of grumpiness as long as it’s followed by a season of smiles.

I like to be right.

I like to feel healthy.

I like someone to notice when I’ve done good work.

And I like people to forgive me when I’ve stunk up the joint.

What I’ve just shared with you is a summary of the true value found in religion. Everything else is legalism, prejudice, ritual, outlandish oversight, and rules and regulation—frequently about issues that have not been pertinent since the fifteenth century.

They say there is a man in Tibet called the Dalai Lama who is full of wisdom.

I don’t doubt that.

If you climb into my van, I’ll drive you down the street to the nursing home, where we will walk through holy ground and meet many such men and women.

These are the traveling souls who have worn human skin and discovered much foolishness and settled on simple things, like a small squirt of whipped cream on top of their tapioca pudding.

The Dalai Lama may be just fine.

I don’t disfavor him because he is not of my faith.

But I do not believe that his mere lineage from some dude grants him the license for a holy genetic order.

I think we should listen to the Dalai Lama just as intensely and feverishly as we do the Dolly Parton.

Daddy-longlegs

Daddy-longlegs: (n) Also called harvestman, a spiderlike arachnid with a rounded body and extremely long, slender legs.

I had nearly decided not to do any research whatsoever.

I so enjoyed the old tale about the Daddy-longlegs spider.

If you’re not familiar with it, let me enlighten you.

The Daddy-longlegs is actually one of the most poisonous spiders in the world.

But because it has such a tiny body to accompany its long-leggedness, its fangs are too small to bite human skin.

Now, isn’t that fascinating?

That doesn’t take away from how scary it looks.

But if Daddio ended up being as poisonous as he is ugly, well let’s just say, our lives would be fraught with terror.

Yes, and it also makes for a great object lesson:

If it ends up that you have a little head filled with poison and you have too many legs to walk around and hurt people, just pray that God has given you a mouth that’s not able to spread your venom.

 

Beige

Beige: (n) a pale sandy yellowish-brown color.

Dictionary B

Am I the only weirdo who stops and thinks about God creating people from the dust of the Earth?

By dust, do we mean blowing sand from the desert? Or are we referring to soil?

Either way, God did not make humanity out of baby powder.

What I mean is, tweren’t white.

It’s amazing how Caucasian people came up with the idea that they are superior, considering their lack of pigment and the fact that they don’t resemble the hue of dust.

The first man and woman who were created were certainly darker in shade. A dusty brown.

So even though people jokingly say that they’re going to “go wild” and paint their den beige, and then giggle–actually, if you blended all the colors of human skin together, wouldn’t you end up with beige?

Isn’t our coloration very mediocre and therefore equally insignificant?

Because the beauty of beige is that it refuses to offer enough excitement to dazzle the room. It requires knickknacks, carpeting and wall hangings to bring it to life.

Huh.

So do we.

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Balance

Balance: (n) an even distribution of weight enabling someone or something to remain upright and steady.Dictionary B

It is the responsibility of every creature who has human skin to stop every once in a while, look back on the things they have said and believed…and giggle.

Sometimes it’s even necessary to openly repent in sackcloth and ashes, in front of our fellow skin-wearers.

I have said many stupid things in my life. Trying to explain why I shared these thoughts at the time would result in a series of cluttered excuses which would soon run into one another and topple the whole explanation.

So I shall not.

It is my purpose as a writer to be a truth-teller–not in the sense of pretending that I have the truth, but proving to you how I have pursued enough error that I can comfort you and warn you not to go in a particular direction.

For instance, one of the comical thoughts I once propagated was that life should be balanced. Matter of fact, I came up with a coy, little phrase: “Holy balance.”

It really did not take long for me to realize that an Earth that creates tornadoes has no intention of me ever standing on solid ground.

I now realize that life is in seasons and transitions, which we learn to enjoy. We also discover what to avoid.

I have lived long enough to view the many forms of hypocrisy which started out with the noble intention of being righteous. There are simply junctures when freedoms are acquired, upsetting those who felt they were in charge of doling out such consideration.

  • I am not in charge of your life.
  • I have no say in your freedom.
  • And I certainly cannot tell you that I have a balanced view on my fellow human beings.

For after all, there was just too much crap put in my toilet for me to have yet caught up … with all the flushing necessary.

 

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