Contemplative

Contemplative: (adj) expressing or involving prolonged thought

It is normally considered hazardous to tread on thin ice–due to the fact that the ice will break and you’ll find yourself plunging into frigid waters.

But what if the ice is not supposed to be there? What if it needs to be melted–done away with because a new spring has sprung and it’s timefunny wisdom on words that begin with a C to be finished with chilly weather?

This is how we came up with the term “break the ice.”

So let me step in today and break the thin ice:

Meditation is one of the most dangerous, foolish and unproductive practices that has ever been devised in an attempt to turn people into better souls.

Being contemplative is simply you, walking the aisles of your limited shopping arena in your own brain, and supposedly arrive on ingenious ideas on improving inventory.

But consider–it is your own brain. It’s not being inputted by others. It’s not sapping off of divine grace. Nor is it necessarily even willing to adjudicate the evidence available.

It’s just you–wearing a simple, subtle hat–pretending to be god.

Contemplative people often spend their time trying to soothe themselves in a harried world instead of finding ways to “be of good cheer” on a planet filled with tribulation.

When we get done running from reality and we escape the self-righteousness of thinking that seven minutes with our own brain is a vacation, we might actually be able to use the ears we have to hear what humanity, Mother Earth and even Father God is trying to tell us, instead of merely coughing up mental hairballs of confusion.

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Collect

Collect: (v) to bring or gather things

I collect.

I grab my basket and step into life, picking up things that suit my fancy, meet my needs or stir my soul.

From democracy I collect the value of personal freedom.

I collect a wisp of meditation from the Buddhists.

I collect tenderness, mercy and endurance from my sisters.

I collect devotion to country from communist China.

I realize the danger of eating too much pork from my Muslim brethren.

I collect the value of play from the children encircling me.

I collect my thoughts by rejecting my prejudices.

I collect the true history of my life by quieting the ideas I wish to promote.

I collect fruits and vegetables at a good price at Aldi.

I collect the power of the Golden Rule from my friend, Jesus.

I collect a searching, inquiring and probing mind from my atheist friends.

I collect a respect of science from God.

And I collect a respect for God from science.

I collect things that other people think are meaningless so I can have a personal treasure in my heart.

I collect a respect for things old, current and even those things which sniff of the future.

I stand in awe of Earth as I collect my trash and throw it in the garbage instead of allowing it to go “blowin’ in the wind.”

I collect my anger and force it into a small box, where it doesn’t think it is bigger than it actually is.

I collect those little boxes of anger and open them up in my private times to address the concerns.

I collect passion for my dreams.

And I collect dreams to welcome passion.

I am a collector.

Not much of what I collect has a dollar value.

Yet all of what I collect is valuable.

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