Cling

Cling: (v) to hold on tightly

I cannot explain the choices I make in the middle of the night, when suffering from a bit of insomnia and flipping through the channels on television.

In my conscious mind I am trying to find something that’s boring enough to put me to sleep. Therefore I often stop at religious programming.

Just a couple of evenings ago, I landed on a program with a preacher who had a Georgia drawl, explaining why he was not afraid to die. He became very emotional, citing that he knew he was going to go to heaven and spend eternity with Jesus. Surrounded by the dark room and feeling very impressionable in my nighttime skivvies, I nearly believed him.

I wondered why I didn’t feel that way.

I don’t want to die.

I don’t think it sounds interesting.

I get teary-eyed thinking of a world without me.

I can’t imagine how my friends and loved-ones will survive. (Maybe that’s why the Pharaohs locked all their cats in the tomb with them.) I digress.

I cling to life.

I am not a hypochondriac, but if one is needed, I can do a pretty damn good impersonation. Why? Because every breath, every pain, every trickle in my system makes me suspicious that it is the precursor of a wave of destruction.

I think it’s foolish to say you believe in a God who made a beautiful Earth and then to be in a hurry to get away from it, thinking that the upgrade will be an improvement.

I like Earth.

I like people–even when they’re unlikable, because then they’re a puzzle.

I like being around.

I like what happens when I’m around.

So I cling.

Whatever seems to be full of energy, vitality or just the general circulation of the blood, I support with all my heart.

It is time to admit that I am an Earthling who will need to be evicted to get me to leave my particular duplex. Perhaps my Creator has set aside a place for me in a spirit world which is beyond my comprehension. I cannot cling to that.

But I can cling to faith, hope and love.

These are the three things that matter. These are the three things that make Earth sweet.

And these are the three things that make me so glad that I’m still alive with people like you.

 

Donate Button

 

Advertisements

Cabal

j-r-practix-with-border-2

Cabal: (n) a secret political clique or faction.

It was strange.

I woke up, glanced down and it appeared that my leg had a red line going from my knee to my ankle.

Although I would not call myself a hypochondriac, if needed, I can imitate one. It spooked me.

Of course, I pulled up the Internet and found that there were several dastardly explanations. No pleasant determinations for such a mark on one’s flesh. I spent about two-and-a-half hours allowing my brain to go in and out of scenarios about this unknown “line in the flesh.”

I decided to keep it a secret. I didn’t share with anyone else. After all, if my time on Earth was nearing an end, it would be best for my loved ones to be surprised instead of having any elongated sorrow.

Then for some reason, the spirit within me made an internal suggestion to my mind.

“Did you try to wash it off?”

I was offended by my spirit. Such a childish proposal. But so as not to quell the “little fella’s” desire to be heard, I grabbed a wash cloth and simply ran it across my stripe, fully prepared for nothing to happen. It suddenly began to disappear.

It then occurred to me that the previous evening I had eaten a cherry popsicle and apparently it dripped onto my leg and had simply dried.

My problem was solved. Quickly.

So when I saw the word “cabal” today, it reminded me of that incident.

We all look for complicated, fussy, secretive and even difficult answers. That’s why we get political think tanks and theological discussions, and have seminars on this and seminars on that.

But before we go off and find a mahogany table, where we all gather and talk too deeply about shallow problems, grab a damp cloth. Do the obvious. See if the damn problem will just wash away.

Donate ButtonThank you for enjoying Words from Dic(tionary) —  J.R. Practix 

 

 

Alliance

Words from Dic(tionary)

dictionary with letter A

Alliance: (n) a union or association formed for mutual benefit, esp. between countries or organizations. 2. a relationship based on an affinity in interests, nature or qualities

Sometimes I get a little worried about myself.

I’m not talking about being a hypochondriac or a conspiracy theory advocate. I just don’t trust systems. Let me rephrase that. Systems have not historically proven themselves to be worthy of my trust.

I think that’s accurate.

And as I look at the word “alliance” today, I realize that a sense of ill-will came into my soul over the whole notion of “uniting.”

It’s not that I believe in anarchy, it’s just that I don’t embrace the notion that the opposite of anarchy is a good thing. Here’s why.

If an alliance occurs because two human beings come together and freely admit that they plan on respecting or submitting to a truth which is greater than either of them, then I think there’s a possibility that such a union could be beneficial, if not holy.

Take marriage, for instance. In the simplicity of its composition, it is a  phenomenal institution–taking two human beings and asking them to commit to the idea of faithfulness and equality. Unfortunately, when implemented, it often deteriorates into less noble alliances, which are merely festering compromises of differing opinions.

Case in point: I don’t see any power in Henry Clay creating the Great Missouri Compromise in the mid-1800’s, which allowed for a temporary peace, but also tolerated the indignity of slavery.

Yes, I believe for an alliance to be of any significance, it must consist of two or more people recognizing a mutual need to acquiesce to an intelligence, a belief, a faith or a system greater than any opinion. When we hammer out back-room agreements, trying to maintain an elixir of varied opinions, we always end up with a hodge-podge of meaningless actions which must be quickly corrected due to their short-sightedness.

It’s why in my life I have come down to one simple principle: “No One is better than anyone else.”

Anything that tries to attack, disintegrate or deteriorate this axiom is not worthy of alliance. On the other hand, new ideas that salute the beauty of such a precious precept are not only welcome, but worthy of inclusion.

I am willing to join in alliance with those who recognize that our feeble opinions are always better when filtered through the sanity of the test of Spirit and Time.