Tree Hugger

I once had a boss who referred to certain folks as "tree huggers". He made it quite clear by his sniggering and mannerisms that these people were just annoying kooks and nuts. Subversives or anarchists, whose sole purpose was to act as an impediment to progress and all things sensible and rational. His tone was condescending, his remarks defamatory and slanderous. It seemed to him that anyone who tried to defend and perserve nature at the expense of raising a new building or parking lot or public convenience, was just acting as a contrarian. These whack-jobs had nothing better to do with their insipid and empty lives, so they joined some silly cause without full understanding of what they were defending or what was really at stake. These people were laughable, fools who were nothing more than the chaff of life.

It is possible that I once felt this way too. It seems like an attitude that I might have had at one point in time, many years ago. However, my present approach is more aligned with trying to honor nature. Over the years I have come to better appreciate the beauty and wonder and majesty of the fields of wildflowers, the ranging forests and undeveloped areas, and also the creatures and critters that make these expanses their homes. This all kind of hit home recently when I arrived at work and was surprised to find a contingent of heavy machinery clearing out sizeable tracts of trees from our surrounding forest. Our trees have long created a buffer zone that isolates us from the harsh urban sprawl that is everywhere in the area that I live. I drove up to see a flatbed truck fully loaded with freshly cut tree trunks. Each tree was several feet in diameter with more growth rings than I could count. I thought about how long these gifts of nature had been around, how much they had lived through and witnessed, and how quickly and unceremoniously they were torn from the ground and reduced to something else. Something unnatural. Further adding to the scene, I could hear the crew of workmen off in the distance continuing their work of decimation. Those sounds of ripping and tearing, of pure destruction still echo in my mind.

I know that soon my eyes and my mind will adjust to the new surroundings. Soon the new building will be present, with its plantings and landscaping, and its symbolism of progress. However, I will not forget what was there before. In fact, you can count me in the category of unashamed tree hugger. I see nothing wrong, nothing weak, nothing insipid about preserving nature where we can and making this a priority as we move ahead.

Grind My Gears 10

I can hold my tongue no longer. Actually, who would want to hold anyone's tongue? My doctor tried to do this thing once where she moved my tongue around whilst holding the end with a piece of gauze. I remember it made me throw up a little. Anyway, I digress. What is really chapping my chaps today, as it were, is the pinheadedness of all retailers and shop owners everywhere. In my younger days, Christmas signage and decorations did not go up until the first part of December. Then some Einstein had the brilliant money-making stratagem to push the envelope to right after Thanksgiving. Soon all of the other sheep on the pasture followed right along in perfect step. Baaaaaaa. But was this good enough? No, not even close. The sales and merchandise and decorations then quickly started leaking across the Thanksgiving break, a time period once thought impenetrable. Store displays then popped up in the middle and then the beginning of November. Then October. Then September. Hooray, it's freakin' Christmas in July! These people all really grind my gears. I believe they should all be locked in a small room while the Muzak version of Jingle Bell Rock plays on an endless loop until their brains seep out of their ears. Many would agree with me on this issue. Justice served. Oh, and Merry Chris, ..., errrr, Happy Holidays.

The Oracle

Many of us are searching for answers in our lives. Answers to questions that eat at our flesh, that hold us back, that have defined who we are today and have shaped our existence. These questions have formed lines on our faces and across our hearts. What if you had an opportunity to finally be given the answers to some of these questions? The who, what, when, where, and, most importantly, why of it all. Would you reach out and take that chance? Certainly, one should expect that the answers would come far too late to change anything or to recover anything. Perhaps the answers might serve only to uncover wounds that remain raw and sensitive to this very day, though, perhaps, they are lurking just below the surface.

Questions such as why a loved one committed suicide or felt such hurt as to let drugs and alcohol take over their lives and lead to their demise. What about the hurt of relationships ending or betrayals from once trusted friends? What about the questions related to why many of us feel so screwed up today? Are the answers worth bringing up the past and re-exposing the hurt and pain? Exposing old scars and sensitivities from the past? Perhaps the answers would convict you more than you could imagine, more than you could bear. Adding more weight to an already overwhelming burden. Is it possible that the answers to such questions could bring some degree of healing? Somehow finally closing the chapter on old haunting episodes?

My natural inclination has always been to avoid seeking the answers in these situations. This is a form of self-protection, and maybe, even a form of denial. But, what if I told you that a penny invested today could perhaps lead to a windfall tomorrow? Would you unhesitantly take this opportunity, understanding what could come your way with wisdom, patience, and time? I suspect that the answers to many of life's deepest and most personal questions could fit into this scenario, this great "What if?". Answers could allow you to finally understand why you and others made the choices that you did. Winston Churchill once said, "Those who fail to learn from history are doomed to repeat it.".

The table has been prepared. The chairs have been pulled out. So, why am I such a coward, such a fool at times, not to sit down and listen to the answers when they are available?

Oh Nuts!

One of the great joys of getting older, at least for most folks, is that they begin to increase in circumference at an alarming rate. In this regard, I am no different. Although my eating and exercise habits have been reasonably constant over the years, my body decided that it did not particularly care for the status quo, the equilibrium that we had tacitly decided upon, and abruptly changed the rules. Of course, carrying around extra weight does wonders for one's overall health and quality of life. It leads to heart problems, hypertension, arthritis, aches and pains, and fatigue, among others.

As a result of increased girth syndrome, I have been forced to do something that I never thought that I would have to do. I am compelled now to actually read the nutrition labels on the food-type products that I am considering for purchase. Man is this depressing. In my younger, pre-Geritol days, I used to be able to wheel my shopping buggy about the market in a carefree and gleeful manner, tossing in whatever I wanted to eat. Cakes and pies and goodies of every shape and size. Now, I am forced to prowl around the healthy food section of the store, keeping company with the granola-munching hippies and other subversives, with their tie-dyed t-shirts and Birkenstocks.

One complaint that I have with tracking quantities like grams of fat or total calories of Hecubus per serving, is that the food companies make their products seem healthier than they really are by defining a serving size to such a mirthful extent that a mouse would walk away from a meal saying, "You know, I still feel a bit peckish". Consistent with this line of hilarity, I recently bought a canister of assorted nuts and actually made audible grunting noises after reading their definition of "serving size". Look closely at the above photograph. ... You're welcome.

Antenna

My body is an antenna, a receiver of emotions transmitted, broadcast, and directed. Unavoidably, I become an outward reflection of these internal feelings. The expression commonly tossed around is that folks like me wear their heart on their sleeve. Strangely, though, my response seems only sensitive to negativity waves. I am affected so deeply. I have trouble eating, sleeping, concentrating, ..., being. There are folks I know who seem immune to any salvos of this sort directed their way. They have the uncanny ability to successfully ward off any such attacks. Their inner peace, emotional state, and self worth, remain completely unaffected. Ahh, the unaffected. How I can, at times, envy them.

Hard, hateful, thoughtless, accusatory, or maligning words, attitudes, or thoughts directed my way seem impossible for me to skirt or avoid or redirect. My body picks them up and I quickly become affected, or I think more accurately, infected. I have never learned the ability to remain strong under attacks of any sort. I can carry the effects of such encounters with me for hours and days, and sadly too, weeks and years. The crazy thing is that this happens to me regardless of whether I am in the "right" or I am in the "wrong" in the conflict. I guess part of the issue is that I despise personal conflicts at any level. I despise them so much that I have become hyper-sensitive.

Several years ago I was wading through an especially troublesome season in my life, and my doctor recommended medication to help even out my emotions. I remember that it worked quite well, ..., too well. One of the side effects of the medication is that it took away something from me that, at times, can be such an emotional and healing release. The ability to cry. It was an especially odd situation where you wanted to cry, but were completely unable. Ahh, the unaffected.

Heartsong

A heartsong is a person's special gift to be shared with others, a person's reason for being.

I have a song, deep in my heart,
And only I can hear it.
If I close my eyes and sit very still
It is so easy to listen to my song.
When my eyes are open and
I am so busy and moving and busy,
If I take time and listen very hard,
I can still hear my Heartsong.
It makes me feel happy.
Happier than ever.
Happier than everywhere
And everything and everyone
In the whole wide world.

Mattie Stepanek (1990 - 2004)

I rediscovered this one recently and it touched me all over again.

The Untouchables

The Untouchables were a group of federal lawmen who worked to bring down the notorious gangster Al Capone in Chicago in the early 1930s. This group earned the name of The Untouchables because they were legendary for being fearless and incorruptible. In my life, however, I have come to associate an "Untouchable" with someone who consistently seems to come out on top, even though they are wholly undeserving. They make it through episodes of personal betrayal, destruction of the lives of others, and just plain sinful behavior better off financially, emotionally, and socially. What makes being around people like this so difficult is when they continue in smiles and peace, while you carry the hurt and scars from their path of destruction. They seem untouchable.

I want to scream out "IT ISN'T FAIR!" and "WHEN WILL THEY GET WHAT THEY DESERVE?". Attitudes of frustration and resentment are easily ushered into much darker tones. It becomes so hard for me not to let hate establish its rule over me. The sinful seed that someone else has sown comes to uproot my heart and my mind. I am left in pieces while they continue on in seeming happiness and contentment. Where is their penalty? Where is my justice? They seem untouchable.

Romans 2:1 teaches us, "Therefore you have no excuse, everyone of you who passes judgment, for in that which you judge another, you condemn yourself; for you who judge practice the same things." Basically, it is not up to me to worry about such people or to attempt to judge them. This behavior is self-destructive and, in the end, utterly futile. You must actively work to keep your mind clear and uncluttered from feelings and thoughts that can poison the body. I think about the truth in Philippians 4:8, "Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable -- if anything is excellent or praiseworthy--think about such things."