Dasher

Dasher: (n) one of Santa Claus’s reindeer.

What’s the story behind the story?

Maybe that’s something that qualifies you to be a writer—or at least gets you considered:  being inquisitive.

Of course, there is such a thing as being nosy. I guess the difference is whether other people end up being interested in what you’re curious about, or everyone involved just found you intrusive.

Have you ever wondered what the story is behind Dasher and Dancer?

I assume they were related.

  • Two brothers?
  • Two sisters?
  • Brother and sister?

If I were a female reindeer, would I mind being named Dasher? And if I were a male, could I live with Dancer?

I’m guessing two sisters.

And sometime after their birth, Mama Reindeer noticed that one of the little girls was really coordinated and appeared to be a great dancer. It was obvious that this young reindeer had a future.

She could move her paws without pause.

Mama Reindeer (and probably Papa, too) praised her for her ability—which left her sister without a true identity.

Because I am sure that Dancer is not actually the reindeer’s name. Probably Henrietta. Dancer is what she could do and therefore, who she became.

And her sister—shall we guess Beatrice?—did not want them to be known forever as “Beatrice along with Dancer”. You see the problem.

Beatrice tried to be open-minded, kind and unaffected about all the attention that Dancer was getting, but there was no doubt.

She was jealous.

This is the problem with having two daughters and one is able to dance and the other…well, she could probably end up just being a choreographer.

So Mother and Father Reindeer got together and mulled over what they should do. They did not want to take away the name Dancer from their young hoofer, but Beatrice certainly needed a more common name. Something to grab on to. A promotion-handle, as it were.

One day, they were watching their young deer at play and Papa Reindeer said:

“She runs real good.”

“Who?” asked Mama.

“Beatrice,” replied Papa.

Mama Reindeer watched for a spell. She wasn’t positive that her young daughter was actually speedy. But it sure would be convenient to convince her she was.

“I think I’ve got it!” said Papa Reindeer.

“We shall call her Dasher.”

Beatrice immediately loved the name. Fortunately, her sister, Dancer, was not envious. So Dasher and Dancer began their careers—one fast, one coordinated.

It also made for a great pairing, to begin a famous song.

Unfortunately for Dasher and Dancer, the tune ended up being about Rudolph–whose red nose was just too amazing not to advertise.

 

Coup

Coup: (n) a highly successful, unexpected stroke, act, or move; a clever action or accomplishment.

Pleasant.

Pleasant is a very pleasant word.

Pleasant is what happens when our minds are set on the possibility that our efforts, when placed in the right moment and position, can effect a positive change.funny wisdom on words that begin with a C

Pleasant becomes unpleasant when those who are able to arrive with the relief of wisdom, common sense, humor and gentleness have given up or just slept in.

So because pleasant does not get its day, we begin to believe that life has a sallow sameness which makes our faces pucker in anticipation of bleakness.

The idea of a coup rarely occurs to the mind of the defeated.

I, as a human being, have two functions:

  1. Find abundant life.
  2. As I enjoy it, break off a piece, crumble it in my hands and sprinkle it on the folks I meet.

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Con

Con: (n) the negative position

In evaluating the pros and cons of any situation, no one is ever yelled at for coming up with too many pros.

There is not some formal rebuke which proclaims, “You’re just being too positive!”

But if you come up with too many “cons”–reasons that something might not work, you could easily be decried “too negative.”funny wisdom on words that begin with a C

The question has to cross our minds: is it more dangerous to be too pro or too con? Trying to find the balance is impossible.

Basically, in life you have two positions:

Pursue with wisdom.

Or abstain with intelligence.

And to gain the wisdom and acquire the intelligence does mean that one has to be able to isolate the “cons”–the negatives–in any given situation.

Being too positive has caused tyrants to become dictators and murderers because no one wanted to believe that anyone could actually be that evil.

It has also caused parents to find themselves being interviewed on 24-hour news networks, attempting to explain why their teenage son walked into a school and killed as many innocents as possible.

After all, they just wanted to love their kid and be positive.

When the obvious signs of danger show their ugly faces, it is time to allow ourselves to be a wee bit negative. And those signs of danger are:

  • killing
  • stealing
  • destroying

Whenever this trio–or just one of them–shows up on the horizon, it is a good idea to pose the simple question, “Hold on a second! Now what in the hell is this all about?”

 

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Coincidence

Coincidence: (n) a remarkable concurrence of events or circumstances without apparent cause

I’ve never actually tallied the number.

I think it would be fairly interesting to go through the entire dictionary and meter the words provided, based upon whether they offer a positive result for humanity or usher in a negative one.

Some words would be obvious:

Peace would go in one category and war in another.

Joy would have its own space and sadness would hobble to the corner to be alone.

But there are certain words that would be more difficult to categorize:

Coincidence.

Coincidence comes from the term “coincide,” which means to happen at the same time, whereas coincidence requires a bit of magic.

An unexpected arrival.

Which one is it?

I believe each and every one of us is privately are always trying to place our self into situations that will grant us fulfillment.

It may be the definition of sanity.

I go places that make me feel good. If I don’t go places that make me feel good, I end up feeling bad by my own decision.

So is it possible that we maneuvers our beings to coincide with promising possibilities, and then, all of a sudden we find ourselves in a delightful coincidence?

Are we manipulators of our circumstances, so that we can declare a miracle from God?

Do we shift, shimmy and wiggle our way on streets that we deem will give us an avenue to pleasure instead of pain, and then act pleasantly surprised at our destination?

Perhaps it’s just impossible to have coincidence without coinciding our energy in a particular direction.

All I know is, the more I try to be happy, the more often happiness inhabits my heart.

Disheartened? I use it to confirm my disappointment.

I will coincide with good things so when the coincidence of goodness comes my way, I can be overjoyed.

 

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Cell phone

Cell phone: (n) short for cellular phone.

Heaven is reserved for those who are not spooked into proclaiming the party line.

It is a good thing to be positive. It is a bad thing to lie. If we could get that straight, we might be able to make progress.

Case in point: there is nothing more handy than a cell phone. If you need to call someone, you don’t need to pull your car over, find a phone booth and hope you have enough change. (Matter of fact, nearly 40% of the population might not even know what a phone booth is.) You also don’t have to wait for people to call you back because they’re not home.

But to ever present the idea that cell phones are preferable in quality and durability to the original home phone is ridiculous.

They actually remind me of the walkie talkies I was given at Christmas when I was twelve. When I was in range, the antenna was pointed just right and the weather was good, my walkie talkies were amazing. Any variance to these conditions created everything from crackling to no service.

Cell phones make it hard to hear, difficult to speak on and unpredictable. Giving them cute names and coming out with the next derivation of the previous inadequate model does not alleviate the problem.

So is it possible to be grateful for the object provided, yet practical on its actual application?

If you’re able to do that, cell phones are magnificent.

If not, you keep hoping that the next number they create will suddenly be reliable.

 

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Caustic

Caustic (adj) sarcastic in a scathing and bitter way.

Being negative to another human being when positive energy could be beneficial is a great offense.

But equally as caustic is to piously tell folks they can do things that they can’t. It is cruel, mean-spirited and to a large degree, self-righteous
–simply because we want to be known for giving flowers instead of stopping and working with people’s soil, and teaching them how to get something to grow.

Life is not about me. Rather, it’s about me learning to be honest with myself, and then gradually sharing with the world around me.

Yet I will tell you–it is sarcastic, bitter, childish and ridiculous to take humans who have chosen mediocrity and insist that they are just as valuable as those who are laying their lives down to discover greater purpose.

If the truth makes us free, then anything short of that freedom is bondage.

For after all, you can tie people up with fuzzy bows just as easily as you can with barbed wire.

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Bedridden

Bedridden: (adj) confined to bed by sickness or old age.Dictionary B

Perhaps the greatest problem with the word “sick” is that it always travels with its two companions: “tired” and “discouraged.”

So if you try to be sick but hopeful, it is very difficult.

For a very brief season I found myself bedridden due to illness. I will reserve the details of this confinement for another time.

But my main memory is that I was in a hospital on the fourth floor, looking out the window at life below me, and realizing that I had been extracted from it. Efforts at optimism, prospects of prayer and sensations to plan my future seemed pointless.

If I were going to escape the hospital, I would only find myself in a limited capacity, unable to pursue my dreams and travel around, sharing my heart.

Although the term “bedridden” refers to a physical position, it is not long before your brain, your spirit, your talent and your hopes lie down in submission. I was convinced that the things I had set out to do in my life were being “tabled” in favor of a “chair.”

I don’t know what shook me out of it. Maybe it’s because self-pity tried to smother me to death.

  • I fought back.
  • I disagreed with my own negative prognosis.
  • And eventually, I regained my life.

This is why on some nights when I feel particularly energized I find it difficult to sleep. The idea of reclining in a bed is not always a positive one to me.

And because of that experience, I will always believe that getting up is better than lying down.

 

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Beautiful

Beautiful: (adj) pleasing the senses or mind aesthetically.Dictionary B

  • Manipulate the language and you control the discourse.
  • Controlling the discourse dictates the policy.
  • Policy in place, objection is often futile.

I’m not trying to be overly dramatic, yet I tell you that “beautiful” is one of the more cantankerous words in the language.

First of all, it has no real definition.

It is not only “in the eye of the beholder,” it is enforced by the prejudice of the viewing mob. Somehow or another, people have decided through marketing what beautiful is, and we now accept it as the common understanding.

Looking at Facebook the other day, I saw some pictures of my granddaughters. The comments that people selected to place in responding to the pictures were universally shallow.

“Pretty.”

“Gorgeous.”

And of course, “beautiful.”

Moving down the page, I discovered the picture of a young man. The responding words in the comment section were “strong, manly and handsome.”

I am really not trying to be a nudge about this. Being a plain-looking man, I am not offended by those who are attractive, nor do I wish them to have more limited appreciation.

I just feel that the word “beautiful” needs to be used more often to describe a fulfilling experience which radiates joy in the human heart rather than the perfect construction of eye sockets, cheek bones and noses.

I have been around people who are comely. And yes–I was struck with their features. But within five minutes, when it became necessary for them to perform some function other than iridescence, I saw that many of them were so dependent on their countenance to carry them that they had failed to hook up their brain with their tongue.

They were lost.

Yes, in a blind audition, they would be rendered dumb.

So under my granddaughters’ pictures on Facebook, I wrote, “Let’s get off the ‘pretty’ thing and realize that these are intelligent, intuitive and talented people.”

I was scoffed.

After all, these “complimenters” were just trying to be nice.

How could “beautiful” be considered anything but positive?

Even though it succeeds in leaving out most of the rest of us.

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Bearer

Bearer: (n) a person or thing that carries or holds something.Dictionary B

“Here he comes,” said the gathered as they notice me arriving in the distance.

What will they say next?

What whispered comments will be exchanged as I make my way into the room?

What do they really think about me?

What is my value to the clan?

What gifts do I bring to the tribe?

Am I viewed as a bearer of good news or a naysayer?

Am I critical?

Do I balance my comments with positive reinforcement?

What do those who love me appreciate and what do they merely tolerate?

Even though most of us would insist we want to know the truth about our value, some of the discoveries might be depressing, if not completely debilitating. Because with every spoken word comes a tone of voice and a facial expression.

We only remember what we say, not how we said it.

And we certainly are not privy to the output from our countenance.

Are we considered valuable to the cause, or just someone plays devil’s advocate?

What kind of bearer are we?

Is it possible to be too positive?

Is it plausible to insist that everything is going to work out well and come across idiotic because we did not adequately count the cost?

What is the balance?

Whether we like it or not, we are all bearers of something … and in the minds of others, have a caption written beneath our memory.

 

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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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