Month: June 2011

Hanging Out with Thoreau at Walden

/ James Browning

I was in the 11th grade when I first came in contact with “Walden or Life in the Woods” by Henry David Thoreau.  I recall little about the book from then except reading it was an assignment and I had to do a report on it.  At that age my mind was a swirling mass of girls, cars, grades, dreams and hopes seasoned with a screwy home life.  Absorbing what Thoreau was saying and the depth of his message were wasted on the teenage version of me.  I re-discovered “Walden” about a decade ago and it is now one of my top ten books and one I have read cover to cover three times.  I often pick up a well worn copy I have and randomly open it to read a page.  Wisdom usually finds me each time I do.

“Walden” is today considered to contain some of the first American writing about transcendental thinking.  One of Thoreau thought’s about his two years living in the woods in a self built cabin was to find out just how much a man needed to work to supply the basic essentials of life.  I recall that his conclusion was an estimate of about six to eight weeks of labor each year.

Thoreau said his intention was to  “live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived.”  There in the 1850’s on Ralph Waldo Emerson’s property at Walden Pond, he lived in a one room cabin furnished with castoffs.  Thoreau found his food in the woods around him, in the lake beside him and in the field near him where his garden was.  He scavanged for lumber and nails and worked barter fashion with farmers for supplies, seed, food, and other things he needed.

Thoreau told time by the train whistle from the nearby tracks which he thought often disrupted his contented existence.  He preferred the sounds of whip-poor-wills, owls, loons, frogs, chattering squirrels and distant crowing roosters.  Thoreau spent much of his time observing everything from the seasonal changes of trees and plants to the activity of the animals around him.  He spent hours with self-assignments such as with a rock and string ascertaining the depth of Walden Pond to a degree that he could map the entire bottom of the lake.

Some of my favorite passages I have underlined in my most worn copy of “Walden” are:

“I would rather sit on a pumpkin and have it all to myself, than be crowded on a velvet cushion.” 

“I learned this, at least, by my experiment; that if one advances confidently in the direction of his dreams, and endeavors to live the life which he has imagined, he will meet with a success unexpected in common hours.”  

“However mean your life is, meet it and live it; do not shun it and call it hard names.”  

“A simple and independent mind does not toil at the bidding of any prince”. 

“As for the pyramids, there is nothing to wonder at in them so much as the fact that so many men could be found degraded enough to spend their lives constructing a tomb for some ambitious booby, whom it would have been wiser and manlier to have drowned in the Nile, and then given his body to the dogs”. 

“Why should we live with such hurry and waste of life… When we are unhurried and wise, we perceive that only great and worthy things have any permanent and absolute existence, that petty fears and petty pleasures are but the shadow of the reality”. 

“Every man is the builder of a temple called his body…We are all sculptors and painters, and our material is our own flesh and blood and bones”. 

“You must live in the present, launch yourself on every wave, find your eternity in each moment”.  

“Time is but the stream I go a-fishing in. I drink at it; but while I drink I see the sandy bottom and detect how shallow it is”. 

“Why should we be in such desperate haste to succeed, and in such desperate enterprises? If a man does not keep pace with his companions, perhaps it is because he hears a different drummer. Let him step to the music which he hears, how ever measured or far away”. 

Today I eagerly express my thanks for the work that Henry David Thoreau left behind for me to discover.  It served a large role in my “awakening” starting around ten years back.  It was then that I began to uncover the real meaning and purpose of my life.  While a difficult journey, I am deeply grateful for the discoveries I have made since that initial inspiration.  Further, there is much thankfulness within for the 14 years of life I have already had beyond that of  Thoreau’s time on Earth.

My writing is far below the caliber of his work.  My thoughts are not as original and deep.  However, I do hope in a small way I am showing my deep gratefulness to Mr. Thoreau for his impact on my life by playing forward his original thoughts of 160 years ago.

A good book has no ending.  R.D. Cumming

Benefits from a Golden Rule

/ James Browning / 2 Comments

Today finds me at LaGuardia Airport in New York waiting at the gate for a flight to another major hub that hopefully will connect me to a second flight to home.  We have been told there are storms in the Midwest that is affecting flights in and out of Chicago where my connection is, but so far my flight is listed as only leaving a few minutes late.  The second leg of my travels currently is showing it will depart 25 minutes late.  With a little luck I will get home fairly close to when scheduled.

As I sit here close by people in line at the counter are grumbling at the gate agents as they try to re-route some people whose flight delay will cause them to miss a connection.  Two have been down right rude.  Once upon a time I might have been one of those people, but something that happened about 20 years ago taught me better.

I had flown from Denver to Los Angeles for the day concerning a job interview.  Upon arrival I got a rental car and drove to my appointment which went well, but long.  Traffic in LA is always a variable and driving to the airport I was concerned that I might not make the flight home.  I hustled through the rental car return and security then ran to my gate.

Upon arriving all sweaty from running to the gate I saw five angry people unloading on the gate agent.  He saw me and asked if I was on the flight to Denver which I confirmed.  He said “Sorry Sir, the flight is overbooked.  I’ll get you rebooked as soon as I can”.  I responded with something like “that’s OK.  Not your fault.  It’s been a hectic day.  I am gonna sit down, cool off and read for a while.  Motion to me when you’re ready to work on getting me on a different flight”.

With that I sat down, got a book out of my bag and began reading.  Over about 10 minutes the gate agent either got people on different flights or else sent the rudest ones to the main desk for rebooking.  As the gate cleared out the gate agent came over to me and said “Sir, come with me quickly!”  We trotted to the jetway door; the agent input a code to open it as he said “There’s one seat in the very back of the plane.  You have a safe journey home.”  I smiled at him and said “I am really grateful.  Thank you”.  The seat was in the very back of the Continental flight in one of those seats that did not recline.  I did not care though.  I was headed home on time.  I only got the gate agent’s first name and wrote a letter to the airlines thanking him for his good service to me.  I hope at the least he got a pat of the back.

Had I not been so tired that day in LA I could easily have been one of those being abrupt and terse with the gate agent.  By not acting that way I benefited from my treatment of the gate agent.  He could have selected any of the other people bumped from the flight in that seat toDenver, but he put me there.  The moral of the story:  Gate agents have no control on flight schedules and being mean to them gets you no where.  If you are cordial and patient many, if not most, gate agents will do their best to help you.

At least a half dozen times since the first episode I have benefited from treating airline workers as I would like to be treated.  A year ago I had three gate agents working to reroute me at one o’clock in the morning.  In spite of being exhausted I smiled, told a joke and socially interacted positively with the agents.  They ended up calling a supervisor over who bumped someone from a sold out flight.  I regret someone got bumped but grateful I made my destination in time the next day for a critical business meeting.  The airline employees did not have to help me as they did.  At the end the agents told me the only reason they did what they did was that I was an exceptionally patient and understanding passenger.

Rarely is being unkind, angry or mean to anyone a benefit.  I read once that being angry at someone is akin to taking poison and expecting the other person to die.  To me that explains it all.

Being nice does not always work and there are times where stating your piece pointedly will help.  I consider it a last resort.  I am convinced that nice guys (and girls) finish ahead more often than not by simply treating others the way he or she would like to be treated.  I am grateful for that lesson I learned long ago at LAX.  That wisdom has served me well.

Life is mostly froth and bubble,

Two things stand like stone,

Kindness in another’s trouble,

And courage in your own.

Adam Lindsay Gordon

Sound Pictures

/ James Browning

About a decade ago I stumbled across an idea I call taking “sound pictures”.  I was sitting having coffee in a little European cafe and Iwas struck by how different what I was hearing was from home.  With most countries having their own tongue and with nations being closer together than many US states, speaking several languages is a necessity.  It is not unusual to hear three or four languages being spoken simultaneously.

While a portion of the music I heard in shops, bars and restaurants was songs I knew, much of it in Europe was foreign to me.  I learned about several artists and groups I would never have known about had I not traveled and paid attention to what I was hearing.  On each visit my music taste has broadened a bit more.

The sounds of the streets in European cities are unique.  The trams are different than trains here and often run right down the middle of streets where cars drive and people walk.  Mostly running on electricity the trams make much different noises than I’m accustomed to and the bells they clang sound unique in each country.  In some Euro-nations bicycles are everywhere and have their particular clatter.  Buses make distinctive noises and even car horns make sounds unique to European countries. 

Then there are the emergency vehicles that have sirens and warning sounds that are unique to Europe.  Most people in the United States have knowledge of them though movie exposure and recognize the sirens instantly as “foreign”.

It was in Europe where I first began to close my eyes for minute or two at a time while listening very closely to what sounds I was hearing.  I let what was in audible range soak into me until I had captured a “snapshot in sound” and stored it within my mind securely.  Even though those initial “sound pictures” were made over a decade ago, I can close my eyes and focus on a particular place and almost instantly the sounds of being there come back to me clearly.  Sometimes the images in sound I recorded mentally contain more detail and memory than actual photographs I took!  Further, it is not unusual that seeing any image of a place I visited will cause a “sound picture” to instantly pop into my head.  It is a unique experience.  

Being in New York City on business for the last couple of days I have had the opportunity to take a few “sound pictures”.  The street soundsare distinct in their intensity and frantic nature.  Human voice on the street in the Big Apple is noticeable in its absence.  People just don’t talk much on the streets in NYC unless they are tourists.  Here and there people do yell at each other, but they don’t talk much on the sidewalks and in the streets.

Restaurant ambience in general is louder in New Yorkand is a match for the overall high volume the great city has in general.  Then there are the street performers, while not particularly distinctive to NYC they lend dintinctive sounds to life in the big city.

I am grateful to have spent a morning on the 3rd floor pool and spa level of the New York Athletic Club where I was staying.  The institution dates back to the last 25 years of the 19th century and is a classy old world kind of place.  There I sat with my eyes closed taking in the varied accents I was hearing.  The moving water from the swimmers in the huge pool echoed off the cavernous walls and forty foot ceiling.  There was voices of attendents taking care of the guests and the sound of doors opening and closing.  As those sounds surrounded me I captured a mental “sound picture” of my morning experience that is now part of the memories in my mind.  That new “snapshot” is now cataloged with all the others safely in my memory.

The more I have participated in the practice of taking “sound pictures” the keener and more discerning of individual sounds I have come to be able to be.  I notice nuances far better over time than I ever did originally.  I am grateful for this unique practice even though I have no idea exactly where the idea came to me from.  Thankfulness for the wonderful places I have gotten to visit is greatly enhanced by my memories in sound I have carefully filed away.   That added dimension helps to keep recollections vibrant and alive.

i am grateful to have had the opportunity to visit New York City on this trip for just about the right amount of time for me which is three days.  I am ready to head westward toward home, but now have new Big Apple “sound pictures” to take home with me.  They are more of the simple gifts of living that I am grateful for. 

 We do not remember days; we remember moments.  Cesare Pavese

I Love New York City (a little)

/ James Browning / 2 Comments

From the vantage point of my 14th floor hotel room I look just across the street and see a high rise apartment building probably 30 stories tall.  Sitting here eating a room service breakfast in my view are balconies attached to most of these apartments.   Each one seems to tell a unique story. 

As I study the contents of the balconies I notice some are empty although through the sliding glass doors the apartments appear occupied.  The most common balcony accessories are chairs.  More often than not there are two side by side appearing to be for people who like to sit together.  Other times two chairs are separated giving rise to the thought they are for two people who don’t enjoy sitting together or else for one person who likes to sit in two different places.  Then there are the balconies with 4 or even six chairs causing me to wonder if there is a family living there or if the person(s) who occupy the apartment like to entertain.  

Some of the high rise apartment balconies have two bicycles which lead to the assumption that most likely a couple lives there.  Then there is the one apartment balcony that appears to have four bikes for a family and another that has one bicycle for a lone occupant. 

As I study further the contents of the balconies become more unique.  There is one that has flower boxes all over it filled with young plants and a single tomato plant in the middle.  Another balcony has a large wooden Indian on it and nothing else.  I wonder what the story about that is.  Several other balconies are adorned with living houseplants while at least two are decorated with faded and fake assorted greenery.  On and on as I look I am struck by the thought that each balcony is as unique as the renters who occupy each apartment.  I realize that it is these small individual differences that help give this large city some contrast and keeps everything from looking the same.  Only now after looking for a half hour do I finally see a single live human sitting on a balcony.  As I watch she is sitting alternating between drags on her cigarette and holding their head.  It must have been a long night!

From walking yesterday I remember life here in this huge city is a jumble of people, cars and buildings with none quite having ample space.  There is a faster pace than most places in everything from the velocity of cars to the speed of people walking (and there are LOTS of people walking).  While I knew somewhere around were packed public buses I don’t recall seeing one.  Under my feet was the subway used by thousands every day but something I have never been completely comfortable riding.  I guess I have seen too many things in movies to feel safe there.  

In city getting a cab is inconsistent.  Once in a while a taxi begins to pull over for me before my arm is completely up to hail the taxi.  At other times cabbies drive by over and over ignoring my existence.  Still others will stop momentarily and ask where I am going to decide if the fare is healthy enough to warrant use of their time and gas.  What is consistent about cabs here is the driving. 

There are few amusement rides that can compete with a ride in a taxi in this city!  Whether speed, rapid acceleration or deceleration, rapid moves or the rush of adrenaline as the vehicle swerves to miss pedestrians, bicyclists and other vehicles there is never a dull moment.  Adding to the experience is that few of the cab drivers seem to have command of the English language yet somehow manage to understand what I am saying even if I can not comprehend much of what is being spoken to me.  It’s all part of the experience within a city population created in a stirred melting pot.  

My hotel is near, Central Park, the only substantial patch of green in the city besides balcony plants and occasional street planters dotting the landscape.  The park is striking in its contrast to the surrounding concrete buildings and streets especially here in late spring.  Besides the green of the park and the near monotone shades of the buildings the most dominant color here is the bright color of the dozens of yellow cabs in view at most any moment.  

The room service I have been enjoying between typing and looking out my window cost about $40 for bacon, eggs, toast, coffee, juice, tip and delivery charge.  Like everything in New York City, living here is expensive.  

In my 20’s I lived in the heart of a major city in a high rise.  At first it was a major thrill and I thought I had really made the grade to be there.  Over time though I began to notice little things like there was no where I could hook up a hose and wash my car.  The big grocery stores were all out in the ‘burbs’ and in town were just small markets with large prices.  The color of anything in living green began to be noticeably absent replaced by concrete gray and asphalt black unless I wanted to walk many blocks to a park.  And even there I was often put off by doggie “do” and homeless residue.  

This morning I realize how blessed I am to get to travel as I have.  There is much gratitude within to have witnessed many places most will never see.  From the wilds of the South and Central America, to the cultural contrast of Eastern Europe to Western Europe, from life on an island to that between London and Zewatinaho I am lucky to have witnessed what I have seen and experienced.  

Where it has all brought me is to a hearty appreciation of where I live and of the life I lead daily.  I am grateful to live in a medium sized city with 90% of the advantages of a major metropolitan area and only about 10% of the headaches and troubles.  Nor am I deafened by the silence and solitude found in a remote area like where I grew up.  It is life in the “middle” that suits me best and for it I am so very grateful.  However, I am further thankful that anytime I need to lose myself in the quiet of the country or the noise of a city I have the ability to visit there. 

I truly do live a magnificent life with so much good fortune I am humbled by it all.

Travel is fatal to prejudice, bigotry, and narrow-mindedness, and many of our people need it sorely on these accounts.  Broad, wholesome, charitable views of men and things cannot be acquired by vegetating in one little corner of the earth all one’s lifetime.  Mark Twain 

Simple Joy of Cool Air

/ James Browning

The age of air conditioning is considered to have begun in the 1950’s.  It wasn’t until 1969 or a little over 40 years ago that a little more than half  (54%) of new cars came with air conditioning.  The majority of homes did not have AC until 1978.

Today I wonder how we’d get along without it!  There is nothing like a 98 degree day to make one appreciate having air conditioned comfort at home, at work and in the car.  Here in early June I have tremendous gratitude for my AC this year.  The upper 90’s came early!

In the 1950’s and prior it was not unusual for offices and factories to shut down during some of the hottest parts of summer.  It was just unbearable to work at times.  Then starting in the middle of the 20th century businesses began to cool workspaces with water cooling towers and refrigerated units.  From there cooled air moved into homes and cars.

There are parts of our country that would be difficult to live in without cooled air.  Imagine Phoenix or Las Vegas in July or Orlando or south Florida in August without AC!  Air conditioning in the last 60 years has been a major contributor in shifting population in the United States.  Since 1950 the population of Phoenix has grown +255% and Las Vegas population has increased by 1843%!  The city of Jacksonville,Florida has 279% more people living that than in 1950.  In the same time frame Houston has grown 238% and Dallas 179%.

Sixty years ago the largest population centers were in the northern parts of the USA in large part because of summer weather there being more bearable.  Since 1950 and the growing use of air conditioning the populations of Cleveland and Detroit have decreased by 50%.  There are almost 30% less people living in Minneapolis, Philadelphia and Boston than lived there six decades ago.

I grew up in the south eastern part of the country where a 98 degree day was often matched by a humidity  percentage around the same number.  I was an adult and out on my own before I had an air conditioned place.  Growing up I do remember getting sweaty at night, but the back and forth of the oscillating fan and open windows made it bearable as I recall.

I was lucky to have visited the South American Amazon about 10 years ago.  The main camp where we stayed did have buildings with a roofs and floors, but there was no electricity which meant no AC.  I recall it being hard to go to sleep, but the jungle cooled  off at night.  As long as there was a breeze, by 10pm the night was bearable to try and get some rest in.

I sit here typing this at my desk with freshly cooled air pouring in my home office from the floor vent.  Soon I will be in my car driving with the air conditioning going.  From there I will be in offices and other businesses all during the day that I know will have units cooling the air to a comfortable level.  Being one who sweats like a faucet, I am more grateful than most to live in an age with air conditioning.  I can’t imagine living with out it.

Now that I stop and think about it I realize how very grateful I am for something I always take for granted.  I have been reminded of it by times when there were issues with AC units in my home or car or at work.  I remember how thankful I was when the failing units were repaired and cooling again. The more I pay attention to things I am grateful for, the more I realize I have to be thankful for.

               Whatever we think about and thank about we bring about.                 Dr John F. Demartini


Purveyors of Love

/ James Browning

There are probably few men who truly enjoy a good love story more than me.  For movies a few favorites off the top of my head are: Casablanca, Time Traveler’s Wife, Pretty Woman, City of Angels, Before Sunrise, Hope Floats, Sommersby, Notting Hill, and The Lake House.

Love stories unfolded in books I have enjoyed include:  The Notebook by Nicholas Sparks, A Farewell to Arms by Ernest Hemingway, The Bridges of Madison Country by Robert James Waller, Love Story by Erich Segal and Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte.

Then there are the poets whose delicate weaving of language and love have touched me.  A few of them are Emily Dickenson, Lord Byron, Wendy Cope, Percy Bysshe Shelley, Sara Teasdale and William Butler Yeats.

However, there is nothing filmed or published that stirs my soul more than the love story of Victorian poets Elizabeth Barrett and Robert Browning. Barrett received a telegram from an admirer named Robert Browning. He wrote, “I love your verses with all my heart, dear Miss Barrett…”   This began a secret courtship, conducted primarily in frequent letters back and forth, that was kept from Elizabeth’s wealthy father, who did not approve.  Elizabeth and Robert eloped and were married on September 12, 1846.  As soon as he learned of the wedding, Elizabeth’s father promptly disinherited her.

The marriage was happy and Robert fawned over his wife, encouraging her work and taking care of her. While she never completely recovered from an illness that began in childhood, Elizabeth’s health improved a great deal during the 15 years of their marriage.  On June 29, 1861, Elizabeth Barrett Browning died at the age of 55 in the arms of her husband.  Robert was devastated and for a long time was inconsolable.  He lived another 28 years and never remarried.

There is a two volume set of the letters between Elizabeth and Robert published by their son in 1898.  The majority of  the content of the letters is written about day to day life and people they knew, often in what I would call “old-speak”.  But also contained are expressions of emotion that seem contemporary even today 160+ years after they were written.

Elizabeth to Robert Sept 25 1945:  You have touched me more profoundly than I thought even you could have touched me.  Hence forward I am yours for everything but to do you harm…

Robert to Elizabeth on Oct 30, 1845:  This is my first song, my true song, this love I bear you.  I look into my heart and then let it go forth under that name – love.  I am more than mistrustful of many other feelings in me:  they are not earnest enough; so far true enough.  But this is all the flower of my life which you call forth and which lies at your feet…

Elizabeth to Robert on Nov 27, 1845: You have come to me as a dream comes, as the best of dreams come…

Robert to Elizabeth Dec 20, 1845:  I do not, nor will not think, dearest of ever ‘making you happy’.  I can imagine no way of working that end, which does not go straight to my own truest, only true happiness…

Elizabeth to Robert Jan 9 1846:  If you were to leave me even, to decide that it is best for you to do it, and do it, never should I nor could I regret having known you and loved you…

Robert to ElizabethJan 26, 1846:  My love for you was in the first instance its own reward…

Elizabeth to Robert Feb 16, 1846:  I was decided from the first hour when I admitted the possibility of your loving me really I am more thine than my own.  It is a literal truth and my future belongs to you.  If it was mine, it was mine to give, and if it was mine to give, it was given…

Robert to ElizabethApril 18, 1846:  I do adore you, more and more, as I live to see more, and feel more… 

Elizabeth to Robert August 26, 1846:   How I wish for two hearts to love you with, and two lives to give to you, and two souls to bear the weight worthily of all you have given to me.  But if one heart and one life will do, they are yours.  I can not give them again…

Today and as I sit here and write it is the gratitude for the purveyors of the sentiments of love that I feel.  When I have doubted if love was real or possible or suffered most from the pain of loving they are the ones who have kept the spark in my heart.  There is much thankfulness within me for the authors, actors, letter writers and poets who have picked me up when I needed it.  It is they who enabled me to keep my belief in love from withering and dying.

What lies behind us, and what lies before us are tiny matters compared to what lies within us.
Ralph Waldo Emerson

Into the Sunset

/ James Browning / 1 Comment

What do the following people have in common?  Ed Asner, Jim Backus, Ralph Bellamy, Charles Bronson, John Carradine, Robert Culp, Bette Davis, Bruce Dern, Angie Dickinson, Sam Elliott, Harrison Ford, Jodie Foster, Anne Francis, Dennis Hopper, George Kennedy, Martin Landau, Strother Martin, Ricardo Montalbán, Harry Morgan, Leonard Nimoy, Nick Nolte, Kurt Russell, Burt Reynolds, William Shatner, Tom Skerritt, Loretta Swit, Lee Van Cleef, Jon Voight, Lesley Ann Warren,  and James Whitmore.

They were all were on the TV show Gunsmoke at one time or another along with at least a hundred other faces most people 35 and above will recognize.  Gunsmoke started in the mid-50’s in black and while and moved to color about half way through its twenty year run.  It became the longest running, prime time series of the twentieth century.

Growing up in the 60’s and early 70’s I remember well the cowboy shows on television:  Wagon Train, Rawhide, Maverick, Bonanza, The Rifleman, Have Gun Will Travel, The Virginian, Wild Wild West and many more.  But there was only one Gunsmoke.   Doc,  Festus, Chester and the unrequited love between Miss Kitty and Marshall Dillon.  Even today I watch reruns occasionally on cable’s Encore Westerns.  Seeing it is as comforting and American as “Mom and apple pie”.

I am grateful for the many hours of entertainment Gunsmoke gave me.  There is also gratitude within for the basic morals and standards the show portrayed.  Yes, people got shot fairly often, but it was the embellished “old west” and as a kid I knew it was all make believe.  Yet, I knew the “fiber” of the show was real.

The star of Gunsmoke and a childhood hero of mine, James Arness, died yesterday at the age of 88.  I feel like I have lost a family member like a distant great-uncle.  Mr. Arness wrote this letter to be released upon his death this past Friday, June 6, 2011:

Hi friends, 

I decided to write a letter to you for Janet to post on our website in the event I was no longer here. 

I had a wonderful life and was blessed with some many loving people and great friends. The best part of my life was my family, especially my wife Janet. Many of you met her at Dodge City so you understand what a special person she is. 

I wanted to take this time to thank all of you for the many years of being a fan of Gunsmoke, The Thing, How the West Was Won and all the other fun projects I was lucky enough to have been allowed to be a part of. I had the privilege of working with so many great actors over the years. 

I was honored to have served in the army for my country. I was at Anzio during WWII and it makes you realize how very precious life is. 

Thank you again for all the many letters, cards, emails and gifts we received from you over the years. You are and always have been truly appreciated. 

Sincerely,

Jim Arness 

The gratitude Mr. Arness expresses in his letter is touching.  I always thought he was that kind of guy and it does my heart good to know in reality he really was.

The very first episode of Gunsmoke was introduced by John Wayne:

Good evening. My name’s Wayne. Some of you may have seen me before; I hope so. I’ve been kicking around Hollywood a long time. I’ve made a lot of pictures out here, all kinds, and some of them have been Westerns. And that’s what I’m here to tell you about tonight: a Western—a new TV show called Gunsmoke. No, I’m not in it. I wish I were, though, because I think it’s the best thing of its kind that’s come along, and I hope you’ll agree with me; it’s honest, it’s adult, it’s realistic. 

When I first heard about the show Gunsmoke, I knew there was only one man to play in it: James Arness. He’s a young fellow, and maybe new to some of you, but I’ve worked with him and I predict he’ll be a big star. So you might as well get used to him, like you’ve had to get used to me! And now I’m proud to present my friend Jim Arness in Gunsmoke. 

So now Marshall Matt Dillon has ridden off into the sunset to join Marshall ”Rooster” Cogburn.  To both gentlemen:  thank you both for all the wonderful hours I wandered the old west in spirit with you.  And Marshall Dillon… I hope you and Miss Kitty finally can get together now!  Thank you Mr. Arness.  I will not forget you.

I know it’s hard but please don’t cry

Fer I’m now ridin’ God’s trails high up in the sky

(from “A Cowboy’s Last Request by Terry Ike Clanton)

High School Memories Revised

/ James Browning / 2 Comments

“I can’t believe that!” said Alice.  “Can’t you?” the Queen said in a pitying tone.  “Try again: draw a long breath, and shut your eyes.”  Alice laughed.  “There’s no use trying,” she said.  “One can’t believe impossible things.”  “I daresay you haven’t had much practice,” said the Queen.  “When I was your age, I always did it for half-an-hour a day.  Why, sometimes I’ve believed as many as six impossible things before breakfast.”

Real life can sometimes be akin to the experiences of the Queen in Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland by Lewis Carroll.   I am in the process of discovering and overturning some personally fabricated untruths from my growing up years.  While the initial realization is a little disconcerting, the newly realized truth is freeing.

My home life was troubled growing up (father left when I was 7, a young and preoccupied with herself Mother, a nasty stepfather who arrived in my 10th year, verbal, mental and some physical abuse at home, etc).  Further, I have carried the belief that my junior and high school life was troubled also.  Now I realize I took with me to class what was at home and painted my school experience with it.

I did remember previously that academically I always did well and had no issues with classes or teachers.  I recalled being picked on some here and there.  The memory of being left out of the “in” group at times was clear.  I recalled feeling “not good enough” because I did not have the cool clothes many did.  However, there is nothing unique about me having those type memories of my school years.  Most all have those feelings growing up, at least at times.

Two nights ago I did an on-line search for an old classmate and ran across a listing of people in my hometown who were buried in a particular cemetery. A few were people I went to school with. I dug out four high school annuals I have paid almost no attention to in 40 years to try and connect name to face for two people.  Doing so caused a strong bit of a nostalgic feeling and I began to slowly read through two of the yearbooks.  I ended up reading  how people had signed my yearbooks for the first time in probably 40 years.  What I found was almost a perfect conflict with the memory I had planted in my head about school.

 To one of the cutest, sweetest and most charming boys I have ever known.  You are a good friend I will always remember with pleasure.  May God provide you with the best life has to offer.  Beth 

To a good friend who was the only one at the first of school.  A friend.  Mike 

To one of the cutest, sweetest boys I know.  You have a lot of class. May we always be friends.  Kaye 

Best of luck to a real nice boy!  Stay the same and you’ll really go places.  Will 

To one of the nicest boys and cutest I know.  May we be best of friends.  I will always remember you.  Love Linda 

To a good boy and a very good friend. May God be with you.  David 

You are one of the best looking boys I have ever known.  May you always be as sweet as you are now.  Love ya, Joan

To a real nice friend.  I hope you really have the best in everything you ever do.  Good luck.  Jon 

To a good looking guy with a great personality.  May we have some fun some time.  Love and kisses.  Loretta (I hope your girl don’t crown me!) 

On and on the written comments went.  Between the two yearbooks comments of somewhere around 100 people were there.  All were positive, caring, encouraging and friendly.  There was not a single negative hinted at.  A little of what was written may have been the tendency of people to just say something nice.  However, even considering that, what I read was overwhelming.

After all these years, my made up memories about school faded away.  I suddenly recalled that school was one of the good things about my growing up.  I had many friends, was accepted in all “groups” and popular in most.  Girls liked me and reading the comments now I realize I missed the chance for several girlfriends.  Even the boys thought I was a good guy.

While this is a difficult lesson, I am grateful through the emotions of the moment to know that some of my memory is untrue.  Somehow I mixed up some of this and some of that to create “impossible things” like the Queen in Alice in Wonderland.  Now I know I have denied myself the knowing of some wonderful things about my life.

What a relief!  What a gift!  To suddenly find wonderful memories that I had locked away behind a door of other grief and pain is both humbling and astonishing.  What I was feeling inside at the time did not allow me to accurately experience and remember the school part of my youth.  I suppose it is human nature to diminish the good and amplify the bad, but from this day forward it is my intention to reverse that tendency as much as possible.

With great gratitude for what has happened,  I am suddenly refreshed and renewed at a soulful level.

Men can starve from a lack of self-realization as much as they can from a lack of bread.  Richard Wright

Ready to Love Again

/ James Browning / 1 Comment

I have loved. I have been loved.

I have been hurt. I have hurt others.

I have married. I have divorced.

I have cried over another. I know another cried over me.

I have been happy. I have been unhappy.

I have been alone and lonely. I have been lonely with someone.

I have made mistakes. I have done the right thing.

I have felt joy. I have felt sadness.

I have closed my heart. I have opened my heart.

I want to love again.

Ultimately experience is the only first hand truth possible.  On no subject is that more true than on the subject of love between a man and a woman.  Maybe those who grow up in a “normal” (whatever that is) household and family are presented with good examples of what love between a man and woman is.  Maybe they know how to embrace love and keep it healthy from the environment they grew up in.  That is not the example I had.

Through trial and error, making many mistakes, hurting women and being hurt by them have I learned what I know today.  Each painful experience had good parts to learn from and bad times that often taught me even more.  Love is not fragile within itself, but ill-matched or un-nurtured it becomes weak and easily breakable.

I wrote in a previous post titled “Well Wishes From Youth” https://goodmorninggratitude.com/2011/05/17/wishes-from-youth/  “…People do disappoint each other, love does not always grow and sometimes growth means growing apart.  Such happenings do not have to paint what unfolded as “bad”.  Rather I prefer to think of such occurrences as “Good” that just turn out different than expected…”

What is just below was written by a man who identified himself only as “Steven” when he posted it on justrealm.com on September 21, 2010.  He describes much of my experiences and ends with how I hope to again feel again one day.

Sometimes it takes adverse conditions

For people to reach out to one another.

Sometimes it takes bad luck

For people to understand their goals better.

Sometimes it takes being hurt

For people to be more sensitive to feelings.

Sometimes it takes doubt

For people to trust one another.

Sometimes it takes seclusion

For people to find out who they really are.

Sometimes it takes disillusionment

For people to become informed.

Sometimes it takes feeling nothing

For people to feel everything.

Sometimes it takes our emotions and our feelings to be completely penetrated

For people to open up to love.

I have gone through many of these things

And I now know that

Not only am I ready to

Love you

But I do.

I am grateful to have felt love and to have been loved.  There is within not only gratitude for the joy but also the pain which has often been the superior teacher. I am thankful for the education that experience has taught me in matters of the heart. Now, I am ready to love again.

               Hate leaves ugly scars, love leaves beautiful ones.                 Mignon McLaughlin

T E D

/ James Browning

Good morning.  About three years ago my son turned me on to a video from a website that one of his professors used in a class.  At the time I watched the first video I had no idea who much I would come to enjoy the website.  It has taught me, broadened my insight and stretched my brain in many ways.  I am very grateful!

The website is called “TED” (Technology, Entertainment and Design) and is a global effort owned by a private non-profit group called the Sapling Foundation.  Its stated mission is to “disseminate ideas worth spreading” and the conference has been held annually since 1990.  The events take place in the U.S. as well as in Europe and Asia and address an increasingly wide range of topics within the research and practice of science and culture.

Speakers at these conferences are given a maximum time of 20 minutes to present their ideas in the most innovative and engaging ways they can.  Each presentation is recorded and presented on the website for free soon after each conference.  What is amazing about access to the videos being free is that it costs $6,000 to attend a conference and $500 to watch them streamed live!  Those who wish to attend always out number those chosen.  Basically one has to “apply” for consideration to attend.  On the TED website is this explanation:  “We’re looking for people who are likely, in our judgment, to be a strong contributor to the TED community and/or the ideas discussed at TED and/or the projects that come out of the conference”.  So again I say, free access to this material is amazing.

Most of the time when I finish watching one of the TED videos, I feel like I have learned something really worthwhile.  At times I have been deeply moved.  I will say I don’t enjoy everything on the TED website and this is especially true of a good bit of the “Entertainment” material.  Much of that content is just “too far out there” for me but occasionally I have found a jewel.

I remember well the first TED video my son sent me in 2008 that began my use of the site.  The presenter was Jill Bolte Taylor who got the research opportunity few brain scientists would wish for:  She had a massive stroke, and as an expert watched her brain functions (motor, speech, self-awareness) shut down one by one and lived to tell about the experience.  Her story and insights are astonishing, but the video is a little on the “deep” side.

http://www.ted.com/talks/lang/eng/jill_bolte_taylor_s_powerful_stroke_of_insight.html

A much better starting TED video would be one that is only about five minutes long and done by Ric Elias.  He had a front-row seat on Flight 1549, the plane that crash-landed in the Hudson River in New York in January 2009.  He talks about what went through his mind as the plane went down, including his near certainty  he was about to die.  His talk is compelling and touching.

http://www.ted.com/talks/lang/eng/ric_elias.html

Another favorite video on the TED website is called “Stumbling on Happiness” by Dan Gilbert, a Harvard psychologist.  I believe he successfully challenges the idea that we need to get what we want to be happy.  Good stuff!

http://www.ted.com/talks/lang/eng/dan_gilbert_asks_why_are_we_happy.html

Then there’s the video by Barry Schwartz that takes aim at freedom of choice.  In this presentation on TED he states his belief that too many choices have made us not freer but more paralyzed, not happier but more dissatisfied.  This presentation certainly made me stop and think.

http://www.ted.com/talks/lang/eng/barry_schwartz_on_the_paradox_of_choice.html

And last, but certainly not least, is my most recent discovery (and favorite) of Brene’ Brown’s video titled “The Power of Vulnerability”.   In the presentation I believe she makes the point successfully that often our inability to show feelings keeps us from a great deal of possible happiness and contentment.  I have shared this video with more people than any other on the TED website.

http://www.ted.com/talks/lang/eng/brene_brown_on_vulnerability.html

I guess some will be wondering why the sales pitch for TED here in this blog.  I honestly don’t intend what I write here to come across as selling something. Instead it is my intention to let other people know about a storehouse of material that has been very meaningful to me.  Rarely a week goes by that I don’t go the the website and watch a video.

I am very grateful for the TED website, the people behind it and the speakers who share so openly.   I have learned a lot, had my fixed way of looking at things challenged frequently and found reinforcement for some intuitive things I believed but had no backup for.  Yes, most of the videos are 15-20 minutes long.  But I guarantee that spending time with a TED video will be a lot more useful to your life than a “Two and a Half Men” rerun or the latest edition of “The Office”.

       Learning is a treasure that will follow its owner everywhere.         Chinese Proverb