Biological Clock

Biological clock: (n) an innate mechanism that controls the physiological activities

Dictionary B

Some years ago, a friend asked me to come and stay at his house. He showed me my room and when I noticed that the alarm clock sitting next to the bed had the incorrect time, he explained that I was welcome to try to change it, but that he had found that the clock always reverted to being exactly fifty-two minutes fast.

So rather than throwing it away, he had decided to adjust.

I squinted at him, a bit perturbed, but during my week-long stay, found myself becoming quite adept at time-transfer.

I bring this little story up because to a large degree, we have done this with the human race.

We have totally ignored the natural biological time schedule of human growth, and instead have inserted a social structure which has nothing to do with the reality of our personal timetable.

In other words, puberty begins in the early teens–but we strongly suggest that people refrain from marriage until their early thirties.

A woman’s primal time for having babies is 14-35, but if we don’t marry until we are thirty, then there has to be a real rush if we’re going to squeeze in our 1.8 children into the statistical anomaly.

I suppose we could try to become more sensitive to the natural order of human activity, but that would require that we ask our children to skip being rebellious, foolish and slackered teenagers and instead, take on the mantle of adulthood much earlier.

This would be ridiculous.

What would we ever do with video games, juvenile detention centers, drug rehabilitation facilities and over-expenditure on trendy clothes? We might actually infuse premature emotional stability and spirituality into our offspring before they have a chance to sow wild oats–which, by the way, are rarely usable for making bread.Donate Button

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dictionary with letter A

Arduous: (adj) involving or requiring strenuous effort.

Are you ready?

I’m gonna pitch you a movie idea.

Fade in:

Man wakes up in the morning, discovers he doesn’t have a razor to shave his beard. Rather than complain to his wife or go out into the world unshorn, he gingerly reaches into the shower, removing his wife’s Lady Bic, peering around the room cautiously to make sure he’s not observed.

He slathers his face with shaving cream and carefully runs the precious object across his face, freeing himself of jungle fuzz. He rinses the borrowed object with great intensity, placing it back into the shower, smiling into the mirror as he splashes his face with his favorite cologne, turning and heading out the door with a smile.

What do you think? Are you ready to invest?

Of course not.

No one would make this movie, because it is a tale of a human being finding a way to work things out without becoming exasperated, frenzied or completely debilitated by circumstance.

Somewhere along the line we’ve convinced ourselves that if our lives are not filled with arduous tasks, then we’re really not grown-up and we haven’t proven our mettle. With that desire to appear mature, we’ve taken things that should be simple and made them as painful as possible, whether politics, business, family life or religion. The more hot coals we can walk over, the more we are convinced of achievement.

If there is a line being formed by those who are looking for less arduous ways to approach life, I would like to get into it.

I’m never proud of myself when I become exasperated. I don’t feel manly swearing at traffic or frustrated because my hammer decided to hit my thumb instead of the nail. Cursing doesn’t strike me as a sign of strength, but rather, evidence of the little child that failed to die sometime after puberty.

There may be arduous tasks. Most of them are not what we perceive them to be.

The greatest gift you can give to yourself, or anyone else, is having a mechanism in your soul which sucks up problems that seem insurmountable … and spits out simplicity.



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dictionary with letter A

Any: (adj & pron) word used to refer to one or some of a thing or number of things, no matter how much or many (e.g.: I don’t have any choice)

One of the greatest fights that can be taken on if you want to be considered intelligent or have foresight is to keep the words of your mouth trending toward the bright side of life instead of the dark.

For once you have developed a bad attitude, you begin to take words that were meant to be positive and twist them to more bleak interpretations.

I find that to be true with the word “any.”

  • I don’t have any options.
  • Is there anybody out there who loves me?
  • There doesn’t seem to be any possibility of making my budget.

Poor “any.”

It had such great aspirations when it was growing up–when it was a little “a,” waiting to go through puberty and get its “n-y.”

It dreamed of blessing people:

  • Is there anything I can do?
  • Is there any way I can help?
  • Is there any chance that life could get better, considering how wonderful it is?

But people came along and took the little fella down to the Bowery and turned him into a junkie for evil.

Of course, I am jesting. But I am often reminded of the great quotation, “By our words we are justified and by our words we are condemned.”

And since it’s out of the abundance of our hearts that our mouths speak, we should give our words a break and take some time ministering to our own emotions before we go blabbing away.

  • Is there any way that I can become a more enlightened person?


By taking my thoughts, adding some good cheer and cleaning them up … before I allow spillage from my lips.


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Words from Dic(tionary)

dictionary with letter A

Age: (n) 1. the length of time that a person has lived 2. a period of history 3. (v) to grow older, especially visibly

When I was twelve, I really wanted to be thirteen. God, I ached all over! It was probably just the onset of puberty, but I didn’t know.

I really looked forward to eighteen, too. Twenty-one was cool, but since eighteen was the new voting age and I wasn’t that interested in drinking–not a big deal.

I felt a little giddy when I was twenty-five because I got to be in that group of “over twenty-five.”

Thirty put a chill down my spine, but then I realized I had nine more years for the decade. By forty I had so many kids that I barely remember the birthday.

Fifty was spooky. It’s when I really began to notice that age IS an issue. I don’t know–maybe my skin turned grayer, or I limped more, or wrinkles formed in my forehead? I’m not sure. But suddenly, everybody under the age of thirty started to treat me like a senior citizen.

It was quite frightening when the envelope arrived from AARP, inviting me to be a member. I recall how horrified I was the first time some teenage girl at Applebee’s asked me if I wanted to apply my senior citizen’s discount. A little piece of my soul wanted to roll over, crumple and die.

But I have especially noticed it this year, as I travel around the country. Younger folks think it’s powerful to treat me like I’m over the hill and couldn’t possibly have anything to share with anyone who isn’t eating their meals through a straw.

Actually, I think we have four different “ages:”

  1. An emotional age, which should be more mature, but most folks freeze at about thirteen.
  2. A spiritual age–a delicate blending of a child’s heart and the wisdom of Solomon.
  3. A mental age, only determined by how willing we are to continue to learn instead of pouring cement into our cranial cavity.
  4. And a physical age, which is strongly determined by genetics, lifestyle and willingness to exercise and consume fruits and vegetables.

If you average all four of those ages, you arrive at your actual number. You should try it.

By the way, I tallied mine. I came up with 43 years, 8 months.

That’s about right.


by J. R. Practix

dictionary with letter A

Abraham: (n.) the Hebrew patriarch from whom all Jews trace their descent.

Yeah, let’s talk about Abe.

You see, the problem is, he had two families. Like so many men, he may like to forget the first one when he finds that “love is better the second time around.” But it doesn’t change the fact that he is also the father of the Arab nation.

One daddy, two families–with one of the families somewhat ignored by Papa in favor of the other, more acceptable choice.

This whole problem in the Middle East is really just a giant family squabble. Abraham decided to take his servant girl as a lover and even though his wife approved, supposedly, she later became jealous when the baby born through the process started growing up and hit puberty.

Then the story gets all messed up. One woman gets jealous of another woman, chases her out of the scene, and a young man grows up without his daddy–but still definitely linked to him.

So you can see, it would be very difficult for the Jews and the Palestinians to come to the peace table when the Jews are convinced they are Abraham’s ONLY children and the Arabs believe they deserve a piece of the matzoh.

And Abraham comes out of this whole thing unscathed. Even Christians try to tie themselves back into the “seed of Abraham,” although Jesus made it clear that God was “able to take stones and make children of Abraham.” Matter of fact, that pretty well describes the children of Abraham, doesn’t it? Stubborn people with rocks in their heads.

We see the same situation in this country today, as people divorce and think they can maintain a couple of different families without there being any friction. It never works, though we will continue to do it simply because our lust, passions and preferences demand it.

So you can feel free to talk about the faith of Abraham–but even the Bible that tells his story lets us know that he was just a man who occasionally lied, took short cuts, and let his wife push him around, leading him to abandon a little family he’d put together, which has now turned into a great nation at odds with his other family-nation.

What a mess.

Sometimes it’s just better if you keep it in your pants–or, in the case of Abraham, your robe.