Knowledge

More of Myself Than Yesterday

/ James Browning / 2 Comments

Each evening near bedtime and when I first wake up each morning in my thoughts are questions like “What am I grateful for today?  What am I going to write about on my goodmorninggratitude.com blog?”  These simple little questions asked of myself so consistently have been profoundly life changing.  The more I find to be grateful for, the longer my gratitude list becomes.

This morning the answer to the usual gratitude quandaries brought new questions instead of answers.  “Am I grateful for myself?  Am I thankful for me?”  My mind is lightning fast at pointing out my shortcomings and mistakes.  My thinking self is expert at chiding my feeling self for any and all indiscretions and missteps.  After stepping past that insidious nature of my thinking the answer to my quandary this morning is “yes, I am grateful for me, but not enough”.

So I began to conduct an internal interview asking things like:  “what about me am I the most thankful for?  What ability do I have I should be most grateful for?  What have I been able to accomplish that I take the most satisfaction in?”  As I began the self examination, the mental judge and jury created their usual negative noise but thankfully I have learned to largely ignore it.  (How about that!  There’s something about me to be grateful for:  the learned ability to not listen too much to my ego’s judgment machine.)

What else about me do I have gratitude for?  My first thought after asking that question again was I am thankful that I have taken better than average care of my body and am healthy.  Much of it was pure luck and not directed intention, but the gratitude is not diminished by that.

Within I find thanks for the mind that I have.  Certainly it’s questioning, always wanting to learn, inability to be still and always trying to make sense of everything can be exhausting.  However, the rewards of a searching and seeking mind far exceed the burden. 

When I was younger I thought as a man my emotional and caring nature was a weakness.  Now I know I just had to grow into the “coat of feeling” I wore.  It was simply too large for me when I was young, but fits well now most of the time.  There is thankfulness to possess the gift of feeling so deeply and to have worn it through the years without letting experience wear it out.

Again I sit here asking myself what I am grateful for about me, the answers do not readily come.  It even feels a bit self indulgent to look for things.  Now popping into my head are things I have accomplished that I have pride about and thankfulness for.  My career has been good and successful.  I grew into being a good father.  Being a good friend to those close to me I am better at than average.  Further, on my list of accomplishments is everything from becoming a pilot to developing photography skills good enough to be published and work professionally.  Yet, such things do not impress me that much any more.  They just feel like my ego talking.

Once upon a time I fancied myself something of a poet and worked hard on that craft.  Often I would write poetry for someone and give it to them as a gift keeping no copy of what I created.  In my heart of hearts, there is much gratefulness that I appreciate and enjoy poetry.  These days appreciating poetry is something of a passing sentiment and poems are largely relegated to the past now.  Just writing the two previous lines made me realize how grateful I am that I once found pleasure in trying to create verse.  Most of what I wrote in my youth was brooding, introspective and often concerned issues within a relationship or one that had failed.  In retrospect, writing those poems was a good coping mechanism.  Not being able to remember the specific subject of each poem I wrote back then allows me today to better appreciate the little webs of words spun back then.

The shadows of springtime slowly fall with the day,
And I find myself wondering with so little to say.
Why do things you’re not supposed to touch, feel the best?
Why do things you not supposed to see, look better than the rest?

 OR 

If life were only a day,
Then in my last hour I’d think back
To search my mind’s lines and creases
To remember all of my day’s bits and pieces.
Somewhere between nameless faces
And almost forgotten places,
I’d come across a thought of you….
And smile.

Those were written the year I turned 21 and finding them last week in an old journal has been an eye opener.  I had all but forgotten about what capacity I had to string words together into something of a poem.  The desire to attempt to write poetry has long lay dormant.  But it has now been awaked and I am curious to see if I can still piece together such creations.  I will try my hand at it in the coming days.

As I better learn the path of gratitude, I have discovered what appears to be a clear truth.  Whenever I focus and begin to ask myself what I am grateful for, I always find things to be thankful for.  Further, what is abundantly clear to me now is when I am able to keep that focus of gratefulness for a short while; something mostly unnoticed usually rises to the top of my gratitude stack of the day.

I began writing today in a wandering and somewhat disoriented fashion as I attempted to focus and find items about myself I am grateful for.  And in doing so I rediscovered that little bit of a poet that resides in my soul.  At this moment I feel like I am more of myself than yesterday simply because I remembered some good about me I had essentially  forgotten.  No matter how humble or remarkable a life may seem, each of us has forgotten riches within just waiting to be rediscovered.

May you never forget what is worth remembering, not ever remember what is best forgotten.  Irish Blessing

Gypsies, Jews, Rednecks and Black Sheep

/ James Browning / 3 Comments

 

Once upon a time I worked for a manager named Marvin.  At the time he and I had known each other for close to a decade and worked together previously as peers in a different city where we first met.  As friends we got along well and our work relationship was a good one.  

Marvin hired me in my early 30’s as a middle manager in Denver and things were going well.  I was able to make a difference in the business, enjoyed working for him and was shown appreciation regularly.  One day I was very excited about the great deal I had gotten for the company and hurried into Marvin’s office to tell him about it.  What had been accomplished was described in animated detail and I ended the story with “I jew’ed ‘em down pretty good didn’t I?”.  I watched Marvin’s face turn to pale and then red and to this day I remember vividly his reaction.  He said “don’t ever say anything like that in front of me again.  If I did not know you so well I would have come over my desk at you.  I know you meant no offense, but that phrase is extremely offensive to me”.  I imagine you sorted out that my friend Marvin was Jewish. 

For a good while I was embarrassed by what I had said and my apologies to Marvin were numerous.  Being the good man that he was, he told me to forget it and meant it.  It took me a good bit longer to forgive myself.  In my introspection then I realized I had grown up hearing that phrase in an area where there were no Jews, Catholics, Lutherans, Mormons or any faith outside of traditional Christian ones.  All I knew was those folks were people like me, but went to a different church just like Methodists and Baptists did.  

At nineteen I had a buddy who was a Jew and attended synagogue with him. I did not understand the service exactly, but respected its traditions and those attending.  The same was true in my when I attended church with a girl I dated who was Catholic.    

After the incident in Denver I began to take inventory of other things I said from time to time that I really did not know the meaning of.  I discovered there were a few other pejoratives in my vocabulary.  First there was use of the terms “gyped” (verb) and “gyp” (noun) that referred to being ripped off or the person who ripped one off.  With a little work at a library I discovered that the use of these expressions was a racial slur against Gypsies. Lacking a population of Gypsies in the Deep South, this had honestly never occurred to me.  As far as I knew there had never been an occasion where I had offended anyone with that term except possibly those who knew generally it was derogatory slang.  Another term x’ed off my repertory of expression. 

Later I heard my self make reference to a “black sheep” in conversation one day.  I offended no one (that I know of) but mentally caught the phrase and a little homework later educated me on its meaning.  I found “black sheep” is a derogatory colloquialism meaning an outsider or one who is different in a way which others disapprove of or find odd. The term originated from the fact that the occasional black sheep will be born into a herd of white sheep. Black sheep were considered undesirable because their wool cannot be dyed, and there weren’t enough to make black wool. I feared before doing research that is was a slam against people with dark skin and was relieved that in general it wasn’t.  However, I felt it could be construed that way by some and another expression was removed form my usable list.  

My personal standard is to never speak words offensive to people of any particular race, creed, background or color.  Now I am working on deleting “redneck” from my vocabulary.  Considering I think of myself as being descended proudly from a long line ofAlabamarednecks progress on complete elimination of that one is taking a lot longer than the others.  “Redneck” is a historically derogatory slang term used in reference to poor white farmers in theSouthern United States.  In more recent times the term has had its meaning expanded to mean bigoted, loutish, and opposed to modern ways.  While I am the former (descendant of poor white farmers), I mean no disrespect by using the derogatory meanings.  So that one has to go too! 

I am still trying to sort out why we often use “right” to mean “correct”.  Is that is some sort of a put down to people who are left- handed?  Any input on that one would would be appreciated.

This line of growth all began with my boss back in my young executive days that I innocently, or rather ignorantly, indirectly slammed because of his faith.  My restitution has been to seek to eliminate all such words and phrases from how I speak.   As we all are a combination of bits and pieces borrowed from others stirred in with our unique self, I will always be grateful to Marvin R. for being a good boss, an understanding friend and for bringing to life an awareness that is with me still today. 

It’s better to keep your mouth shut and give the impression that you’re stupid than to open it and remove all doubt. Rami Belson

Searching for Gratitude in 100° Heat

/ James Browning / 1 Comment

The weather forecast for today indicates the temperature will be 100.  It would be easy to complain about that.  My sweating is more profuse than most people and its gets annoying on the really hot days.  I worry that I smell like a goat as the day goes on!  But my doctor says my sweating is a healthful thing and the perspiration removes toxins from my body.  So these days I try to perspire in peace without complaint with some measure of gratitude for the good health contribution my doc says it contributes to. 

The winter weather the last few years has been just as extreme as the heat in an opposite manner.  Record snow and low temperatures were set several times.  When it is hot like today I try to imagine those winter days when the temp was double digits below zero or I bring to mind the massive snow storm last year.  In memory I try to conjure up shoveling snow last winter when I was thinking about the summer heat and wishing for it. 

Having screwy weather does lend a consistent subject for conversation.  What Mother Nature is doing is always the fallback topic for casual talk.  That’s a little feature of weather to be grateful for; an easy topic for light conversation.  (Have you noticed I am digging for reasons to be grateful for 100 degrees today?  If so, you are “catching my drift” as us children of the 60’s and 70’s like to say). 

When the first snow of the year arrives and the white stuff is falling slowly to a light accumulation of 2 or 3 inches, I love winter.  The flurries seem to make everything beautiful and after a snowfall even the sound of walking in snow is more resonant.  (OK, that helped me feel a little better about the 100 degree forecast for today.  The air conditioning vent with cool air blowing on my feet helped.  I promise I will be more grateful for cold weather next year!). 

Now in early summer, the flowers, grass and trees are vibrant, alive and un-bothered by a heat wave of a few days.  As long as rain comes with some regularity all the green seems to relish the hot days and happily makes the landscape beautiful.  (Chalk up another point for gratitude!) 

The clouds of summer are different than any other time of year.  I read there are over one thousand types of clouds and in warm weather we see a greater variety than at any other time of year.  Laying in the edge of the shadow of a big tree and watching the cloud shapes dance in the sky was a favorite summer pastime as a child.  (I have found another gratitude point!)    

I went looking for more to add to my gratitude scales this morning to tip them in favor of the heat that will be upon me today.  And I found a little jewel in a grammar school poem used to teach little kids about the weather: 

I like to watch the way the wind
can spin a weather vane.
I like to wear my big blue boots
to splash with in the rain.
I like to ride my bright red sled
on cold snowy days.
I like to feel the sun’s warm rays
when I wade in the ocean waves.
Wind, rain, snow, and sun
Every kind of weather
is wonderful and fun!

OK, OK.  I am getting there.  With a little more help from oldies from the late 60’s I think I can finally arrive with real and full gratitude for the 100 degrees today. 

Cool town, evening in the city
Dressing so fine and looking so pretty
Don’t you know it’s a pity
That the days can’t be like the nights
In the summer, in the city.
(Lovin’ Spoonful – Summer in the City) 

Just a few more lyrics from another song and I think I have arrived at the feeling of gratitude I was looking for this morning. 

Oh, the sun beats down
and burns the tar up on the roof.
And your shoes get so hot,
you wish your tired feet were fireproof.
(Drifters – Under the Boardwalk) 

There now, I have it.  I found my gratitude today for the summer heat.  I used several routes to get there:  old memories, favorite song lyrics and old-fashioned counting my blessings.  

Gratitude is not always something on the tip of my tongue or a first thought.  Yet, when I stop and focus for a short while I find I am grateful even for things that at first seem like nuisance.  There is a saying used in recovery groups that works and fits my occasion this morning.  “Fake it until you make it” worked just fine this morning to deposit me at my destination of thankfulness.  

PS:  My thanks to Stuart W. Cramer who is credited for inventing modern air conditioning without whom I don’t believe this blog would have been possible! 

The trouble with weather forecasting is that it’s right too often for us to ignore it and wrong too often for us to rely on it.  Patrick Young

Old Dogs and iPhones

/ James Browning / 1 Comment

A dear old friend is visiting me this weekend and sitting talking this morning we ended up in a conversation about our mobile phones.  Most specifically the discussion he and I had was a typically modern one of comparing the app’s we had on our iPhones.  In past years I have often gotten into chats with others where we were recommending books, music, movies, TV shows, vacation destinations, cars and more.  Now in the 21st Century “app conversations” have become the norm. 

The longer one lives the more 5 or 10 years does not seem like a long time.  It seems to be about that length of time since I had the first mounted cell phone put in my car.  As I consider it I realize that was around 20 years ago. The only portable option at that time was a portable phone half the size of a cinder block or an eight pound “bag-phone”.  In those days mobile use cost about $1 a minute so making calls was kept to essential reasons and the contact was very short.  And yes, I admit it.  Early on a few times I did pretend to be talking on a call while driving to show off this new doodad I had.  Car phones were still pretty rare then and people looked when they saw someone on one. 

About five years after getting my first car phone, the first small portable phone came into my life.  At the time it was the smallest cellphone made but even then I did not carry it with me on a regular basis as both incoming and outgoing calls were still quite pricey.  The little phone lived in my briefcase and was turned on and carried when I was either expecting an important call or else needed to make one while on the move.  It’s clear in memory the first call I made from the back of a cab while away from home when my phone was able to do this new thing called “roaming”.  

It has long been my nature to resist a bit of whatever is fashionable and “in”.  I did the same with mobile phones.  While I had them, it was a personal statement to resist carrying one all the time as long as I could.   Only about seven years ago did I give in and that was largely because I lived out of the country where my only phone was my mobile phone.  From there a cellphone began to become an accepted appendage.  The rebel contrarian is still within me though.  When I go on vacation I resist even turning my mobile phone most days.  My resistance is odd since in other ways I have always been an early adopter of electronic technology such as computers, sound equipment and gizmos in general. 

I knew things were changing rapidly from an experience in 2001 at one of the last concerts at the old Mile High Stadium in Denver.  My son who was nineteen at the time bought the tickets and invited me to go to the Moby concert with him.  I was one of the oldest people at the show with the average age being somewhere between 18 and 21.  The music was great and hanging out with him is always enjoyable.  At that show I first witnessed a phenomenon I had never seen before.  One of the favorite pastimes of those attending was to call friends who were there and to try and locate each other in the crowd.  With phone in one hand while flailing the other arm to be seen was how friends hooked up at the show.  I had never seen anything like it.  

At this concert a decade ago there was a big display by Apple which up until then was thought of as just a maker of Mac’s used mostly for graphics work.  Apple’s computers were not mainstream and had somewhat fallen out of favor.  What Apple was showing off was this new contraption called an “iPod”.  Those in their big display were available to try out and were the original large models which were not even for sale to the public yet.  I was impressed with what I saw and heard and knew in yet another way the amount of technology headed into our lives was about to take a leap forward. 

Fast forwarding to today, I carry my iPhone with me all the time and feel somewhat naked and exposed without it.  I have 4+ pages of apps and the phone is on 24/7.  It is difficult now to imagine my life being any other way.  Such things as the ability to text, use apps and receive calls while walking on the street in a foreign country make the computer in my pocket feel indispensable.   I am grateful to have it.  The fact that the cost of making calls, texting, buying apps and moving data is affordable today is also on my gratitude list.  Now that there are many types of smart phones what can be done with these units will continue to amaze and mystify as technology accelerates.  I look forward to it! 

When I began writing this today, my feeling was I was going to express gratitude for my iPhone and all I can do on it.  Now that I am here to the end portion of this blog I feel thankful for something related but different.  The gratefulness I feel at this moment is for my ability to change and adopt this new way of doing things.  Yes, I resisted at first but that was due only to my stubborn nature and consistently trying to be different (which is not always a positive thing).  Not only can you teach old dog new tricks, sometimes the old dog learns the new trick on his on.  Woof woof….  

It’s what you learn after you know it all that counts.  Harry S Truman

The Wisdom of Innocent Youth

/ James Browning / 2 Comments

Wisdom is not always something that comes with learning and experience.  If one pays attention, wise insight can be found in the clarity of innocent naiveté within the young.  Such unbridled inate wisdom often presents keen insight.  Just this week a clear example came through into my life. 

The owner of a landscape company who did work for me stopped by for me to pay him one evening this week.  He brought with him his son Hayden.  When the father introduced his son, the boy was polite and shook hands without being prompted saying “it is nice to meet you”.   I asked him how old he was and he proudly responded “I’m nine”.  As Hayden spoke he made direct eye contact and it was easy to see from the sparkle in his eyes there was a lot going on in that brain of his. 

As I stood in the kitchen writing a check and talking to his Dad, the young boy asked if it was ok if he looked around.   I say yes and immediately afterwards “But don’t touch anything” came from his Father’s mouth.  Within 30 seconds we heard statements like “Dad, he has real swords.  Are they real?  Where did you get them?”  My reply included “most are replicas, two are antiques and I bought them at auctions and on-line”.  In a voice that continued to be excited, he insisted that his Dad come look at the marvels the boy had found in my home. 

Not much time passed and Hayden found his way to my library.  Having finished writing the check his father and I joined him there.  I am an avid reader in general and specifically a collector of old books.  My total collection on the library shelves spans around 120 linear feet.  So, there are a lot of books.  His first question was if I had read them all.  My reply was “I’ve read about 2/3’s of them.  Some are reference books that I didn’t buy to read all the way through.  The rest I hope to get around to reading sometime.” 

The next question from the nine year old was “do you have any books on the Roman Empire?”  His inquiry caught me off guard, as ancient history is not a subject I would have thought a youngster would be interested in.  Hayden’s father chimed in to say his son had done a school project on the Romans near the end of the school year.  He had helped his son who had become quite interested in the subject.  We then looked for my antique two-volume set of history books on theRoman Empire.  

The old books in my collection seemed to be of the greatest interest to this big eyed youngster.  He wanted to know how old they were and I responded that most of the old books were all around 100-150 years old, but a couple of the small ones were closer to 200 years old.  While none of the antique books are highly valuable, they are some of my prized possessions.  As he touched one of the older ones I let him hold, his manner was even more delicate than the care I usually handle the books with. I was impressed with this obviously astute, smart and well-raised boy. 

I asked Hayden what was the oldest thing he had ever touched, but he could not come up with a specific answer.  Then I asked him if he’d like to touch something really old.  He grinned and with a glint in his eyes he exclaimed “sure!”  About a decade ago I made two trips to Peru to check out Machu Picchu, the Incas and previous South American civilizations.  My traveling companion was my son who in wide-eyed teenaged mode marveled at what we experienced.  During the second trip I made arrangements to legally bring back a few pieces of pre-Columbia pottery that I now was going to share with my young visitor. 

While I never let it completely out of my hands due to its fragility, I pulled out the oldest piece I have and let Hayden run his hands all over it.  He asked “what is it”.  I told him it’s a bowl made by the Nazca and asked if he was aware of the figures of monkeys, scorpions and other animals made of arrangements of rocks visible from the air in the southern deserts of Peru.  He just looked at me, but his father knew what I was talking about and said “we’ll look it up when we get home”.  When I told my attentive visitor the bowl was around a thousand and four hundred years old he seemed impressed beyond his ability to comprehend. 

It became apparent that Dad was ready to go home as he expressed his appreciation for me taking time with his son.  I replied they would have to come back sometime when I have everything unpacked (I moved about 2 months ago and am far from having everything organized and out of boxes).  Hayden smiled like I had given him a prize when he thanked me as his Father suggested to him.  We shook hands and I told the young man it was a pleasure to meet him.  His Dad beamed when I remarked how smart and well behaved his son was. 

In the minutes after boy and Father departed, I wondered to myself briefly what the young man will grow up to do.  Will he end up in a profession concerning his interest in old things or will he have a usual job but keep his keen desire to learn about the past.  Which ever, I have faith he will do well in life if he keeps his love of learning.  

Knowledge can be a blinder.  Experience can confuse an issue.  Known facts can block the truth.  Familiarity can breed contempt.  I admire Hayden, my young visitor this week.  His wisdom based purely in awe and wonder was a vivid reminder to keep my eyes wide open and my spirit untied to experience new things.   Thanks for good lesson Hayden!

A babe in the house is a well-spring of pleasure, a messenger of peace and love, a resting place for innocence on earth, a link between angels and men.   Martin Farquhar Tupper

The Shadow of Monsters

/ James Browning / 2 Comments

Today I take a further step in opening up and letting the world see inside me.  It is a move that makes me nervous, yet I know it is the right and healing thing to do.  About 10 years ago I made my first visit to a therapist to help me deal with unresolved childhood issues that were surfacing more and more.  Such previously buried conflicts within were coming up with greater frequency.  This was due in part to my efforts then to close some emotional fissures and “find” my whole self but also because dysfunction often increases over time.  

The first counselor I went to I liked a lot even though she was tough on me at times.  She gained my trust and I saw her intermittently for about six years.  I was able to make slow stop and go progress wrestling my demons with her counsel.  Then in 2007 my life changed. 

It was four years ago about this time that my life seemed to melt down due to the trauma of the failure of a marriage, a union that I did not want to end.  The emotional chaos was not due just because  of the pending divorce.  It was exacerbated by the knowing that I was in majority responsible for the cause of the divorce.  More correctly the main reason was dysfunction due to my “box of monsters”.   

Keeping a mental image of a wooden box holding my horrors of growing up had helped me over the years to cope.  When one of the fiendish critters of my youth would start to “crawl” out of the box and manifest itself in my life, I usually could mentally get it back in the box and lock it away again.  The emotional harm I did to myself and others was kept to a minimum with this practice most often, but not always.  Once in a while one of the monsters such as insecurity or trauma would break out of the box, grow in size in its freedom and create tremendous havoc. 

The emotional crescendo about by my failed marriage (my 2nd) brought tremendous blame I placed on me.  The resulting shame I felt caused me to begin seeing my trusted counselor once per week for about two years.  In order to see her regularly I had to fight myself quite a bit.  At the top I felt I was the controller of my destiny and whatever I needed to do I should be able to do myself.  Then there were the thoughts of the American macho male stereotype and tough guy image that I wrestled.  Also stirring around was thinking that other people would think I was crazy because I went to a therapist.  I struggled with these misplaced beliefs a lot at first, but less and less as time passed.  

In time I came to realize that going to a therapist for emotional pain is no different than seeing a dentist when a tooth hurts.  My stigmatized thinking about going to counseling was due purely to ignorance and lack of knowledge.  The more I got past such erroneous thinking the more rapidly I got better.  I fully came to comprehend that “secrets were posion”.

Today I can proudly say I am genuinely happy for the first time in my life.  I had never been able to honestly say that until about a year ago.  Nothing changed outside of me.  What did changed is what is inside me and my understanding of myself.  Are the monsters completely gone?  No, and they never will be.  What has happened is they no longer have to be locked up in a box they can escape from.  The little devils reside freely inside me now kept in check 99% of the time by the knowledge and emotional tools I have learned. 

I liken the process to an old cartoon where there is a street vantage point of an alley at night.  Standing there one sees the shadow of a big monster rat headed from the ally to the street.  As the monster gets closer to stepping from the back lighting of the alley the size of the scary beast grows larger and larger. Then suddenly it emerges into the direct light of the street to be seen as only a small mouse who was casting a huge shadow because of the angle it was being viewed from.  

The cartoon analogy explains my internal monsters well.  Once I brought them into the light of day, became more accustomed to them and learned about them they shrank dramatically in size and strength.  Once I could clearly see this way, my life began to accelerate its improvement.  Today I can truthfully say my life is better overall than it ever has been.  Learning that the quality of my life has mostly to do with what was inside me and not what was outside was a grand revelation.  Once I put that knowledge into practice coping with whatever life threw at me became much easier.  I learned that the good times were to savor and the difficult times were teachers sent to teach and make me better. 

I have written all that to say to a reader I did not do this alone.  First, I need to express my gratitude to my ex-wife who after the initial months of her own emotional chaos, found room to aid my efforts.  In turn I believe I was able to aid her as well.  I have not seen her or talked to her in a long time now which is for the best for both of us.  I will always be grateful to her.

That brings me to express my gratitude to the person who had by far the largest role in my growth.  I can’t name her or lend any more than generalities about who she is.  I will say only that she is a licensed counselor who for me was a bit of a miracle worker.  She has said now for almost two years I don’t need to come back.  However, I do still make an appointment every few months as a way of checking in, confirming to myself that my recovery from my childhood junk continues and to again express my gratitude to her.  

In the last decade of searching for healing, I had experience with a few other therapists.  For my issues most went through the proper motions but I could not connect with them.  Maybe it was just an issue of compatibility and they were a better fit for others.  What I do know is that outside of myself, there is one person who did most to help me become the well adjusted, contented and happy person I am today:  My therapist.  Thank you R.!

Nothing is life is to be feared.  It is only to be understood.  Marie Curie

Who Am I?

/ James Browning / 1 Comment

Memory tells me the first time I did it I was around 12 or 13 and found the experience startling.  It was then I looked into the bathroom mirror with pointed focus and truly saw myself.  For the first time I was not simply acknowledging my reflection as I had previously done.  I was really seeing “me”.  The thoughts at that moment were fairly alarming as through my mind ran related thoughts like:  “Is this really me?  Am I am really here?  Do I really look to others like what I see?”  For a while I would look away whenever it was me in the mirror I began to “see” because of the uncomfortable feeling it I got from the experience.  Over time I have become more able to let “me see me”, but the process and I are tenuous friends at best.  

In retrospect I think the first experience as a kid of seeing my self could be a natural part of the self-discovery of growing up.  However, I have never tried confirming that with anyone else.  The thought I have kept is mentioning the experience to another person could get me labeled as “weird” even though I have continued to try to notice myself in this manner since childhood.  Only now writing at a time when I have better acceptance of my uniqueness do I wonder publically if others ever have similar experiences.  

Previously I wrote about seeing beyond looking a few weeks ago:   https://goodmorninggratitude.com/2011/05/25/seeing-beyond-just-looking/

 “…My discovery has been mostly I just acknowledged what came into my view.  Sometimes I walked by not seeing at all what was right before me.  Mine was a bad habit of hardly ever really “truly seeing” much of anything.  My mind seemed to always be racing forward thinking about where I was going, what I had to do and what issues I needed to deal with.  Or else, I was looking backwards trying to solve some past emotional riddle or find some meaning in an episode of life I wanted an explanation for….”  

That certainly describes well what was going on in my young teen years.  Until more recent times I just did not realize that the ability to actually see began trying to make its self known to me when I was quite young.  

In De Bello Civili Julius Caesar wrote “Experience is the teacher of all things”.  What Caesar wrote I believe is the first step where gaining wisdom begins, but experiencing is not enough.  I believe one must experience and then be  AWARE of what is being experienced to learn the lesson.    

On the website falcoblanco.com (white falcon) I found:  The BEST teacher is the conscious observing and relating to daily circumstances, then responding to it out of one’s own experience, being aware that this comes out of an old programming, which happened in one’s past. So also observing these reactions, one is able to decide to follow this track or to try a new way, what might guide to a new experience and triggering new unknown reactions to be observed and so allowing one to get to know oneself.  The best and most efficient teacher without doubt is one’s own awareness….    

This morning I intentionally tried the true seeing of myself in the mirror.  Even after all the time since I initially discovered the activity in my early teens and the many times trying it since, it still makes me uncomfortable.  In part I tell myself now it is because I see age, gray hair, wrinkles and the loss of youth.  That is a portion of it, but I do not think the majority.  The process remains an enigmatic mystery to me and one I will keep trying until I can allow the experience to become full awareness and thereby learn the lesson being taught.  

“Is that really me?  Who am I?  Why am I here?  What is my purpose?  What do I consciously think of myself?  Unconsciously?”  Such questions gnaw at the boundaries I have placed around the core of who I am.  What do I fear I might find there?  Why is there any fear at all? 

The only explanation I have come up with is contained in the thought “if I let you see who I really and truly am you may not like me”.  However, in my personal context it is “me” who has yet to let “me” see myself fully just as I am.  Each time I take up this subject there is a little more light that finds way into the inner circle of my self.  This blog is my best exploration of self I have discovered to date.  Through pulling back the curtains and letting others see deeply into me, I am seeing myself more clearly.  Each day I write here is like staring in the mirror and saying “who am I” then finding a little of the answer on the screen when I am done. 

With every experience of seeing a glimpse of the core of my being I find a little more comfort in being as I am.  This process brings me wisdom and insight in tiny pieces through a sort of delicious torture.  Stepping into the unknown can be for me everything from humbling to down right frightening.  Yet, I am grateful for every humble moment of unease that teaches me and brings my living to be more parallel with my true and real self.    

I am very grateful you are reading this.  Each who does is my appreciated ally and supporter who lends me encouragement to keep writing and mining my inner depths for truth.  Thank you.

We don’t see things as they are.  We see them as we are.  Anais Nin

Davy Crockett, Albert Einstein and my Grandfather

/ James Browning / 1 Comment

One of my earliest memories comes from somewhere in my third year when I received a pair of Davy Crockett gloves with fringe on the cuffs.  When I had them on I thought I was almost as cool as my hero of the moment, Davy himself, who wore gloves like mine on the Walt Disney show.  I loved those gloves and would walk around with my arms out front so people could see tassels move as I moved. 

Most every boy has sports figures in his hero lineup.  My football hero was Johnny Unitas of the Baltimore Colts (I have never gotten completely comfortable to this day putting Indianapolis in the name even though the team was moved there in 1984).  When it came to baseball my hero was Willie Mays.  The reasons I remember looking up to Mr. Mays was his home was less than a hundred miles from where I grew up in Alabama, he hit lots of homeruns and had a great warm and inviting smile.  

By the time I hit High School it was Albert Einstein and James Bond I looked up to.  As for the Bond thing, all I can say is I read all the books, saw all the movies (even had a family member end up with a bit part in one of them) and thought James was the ultimate in cool.  Good ole Albert died when I was a toddler, but as my interest in the sciences grew he became my “poster god” for science.  At 14 years of age I was convinced I was going to be a physicist just like Albert.  

Starting somewhere around the age of ten, Paul McCartney of the Beatles was elected to my internal realm of hero.  He always seemed to be enjoying himself and I loved his singing voice.  The respect I have for McCartney has grown over the years as I have come to believe he was the most talented of the Beatles. 

Constant from my days of looking up to Davy Crockett until today there is another hero who I have never wavered in my love for.  He was my grandfather, my mother’s father, who I called “Paw Paw”.  His given name was Huel and his friends often called him “H.T.” (short for Huel Thomas).  Those outside out family usually called him Uncle Huel as he was the unofficial caretaker of the entire rural valley where he lived. 

Paw-Paw never learned to read.  Early in the 1st grade he had to stay home and help my great-grandmother with the garden and the younger kids.  My great-grandfather had accidently knocked a shotgun over causing a leg wound that resulted in the loss of his leg.  The recovery and learning to get around again took years during which time my grandfather shouldered responsibility as the oldest healthy male in the house. 

While my grandfather could sign his name, my grandmother had to read him legal documents and other important things.  However, when it came to numbers and math he was a self taught wiz and could figure any sort of weight and measure.  I imagine the lack of reading ability must have been difficult for Paw-Paw at times, but I can’t remember a single instance of it ever getting in the way.  He somehow learned how to “get by”.  

I even recall his frustration with jacking a pickup one day when he just lifted the back vehicle off the ground with his bare hands so a guy who worked for him could mount a tire.  I thought Paw-Paw had a little Superman in him!  The fact that he made a living his entire life on his farm says “superman” to me just as well.   

What made my grandfather an even more real hero to me than most others was I knew he had faults and one or two were not small ones.  One was he liked to drink and on holidays was usually “happy as a hootey owl” as folks down south used to say.  Another was he had a wandering eye and at least once was caught with another woman when I was eight.  At that time I recall he and my grandmother went into their bedroom for about 8 hours and did not come out.  I heard voices, loud at times but could not understand what was being said.  All I know is when they came out the matter was settled and was not talked about again. 

What I did know was how my grandfather treated people in general.  He was soft spoken, quite and polite usually only speaking when spoken to.  He had an easy going manner and would help anyone at any time unless you had wronged him.  Someone could knock on his door at 3am, say they were stuck in a ditch up the road and he’d go get one of his tractors and pull them out. Even when offered he’d refuse money for the kindness.  It was just his way to help people and when someone helped him his verbal expression of thanks was almost always the phrase “much obliged”.  

Oh, I forgot to mention that I was the oldest grandson within a bunch of grandkids.  I forgot until now to write that he had me on a tractor riding with him between his legs on that big John Deere when I was two years old.  I don’t recall Paw-Paw ever telling me he loved me, but I knew he did.  It was the way he held me and played with me when I was little.  It was how he’d put his big hand on my shoulder when I was a boy as he introduced me to a stranger.  And it was that he always let me go with him to town and to go “see a man about a horse” as he always called it.  

There is no doubt in my mind I have embellished and improved beyond fact my memory of my grandfather.  That’s OK.  He left me with some basic ideals and a standard for treating people that are innate within me.  Paw-Paw looked a little like John Wayne I always thought and even had that kind of sideways gait when he walked just like Mr. Wayne.  Paw-Paw, you are my hero and even today you live within me and in the stories I am proud tell about you.  I love you and am grateful to be your grandson.

How important it is for us to recognize and celebrate our he-roes and our she-roes!  Maya Angelou 

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

 

Behind the Secret

/ James Browning / 1 Comment

Close to ten years ago I was at my favorite used book store looking through a box of “new arrivals” and came across a book with a dark blue textured cover titled “The Secret of the Ages” by Robert Collier.  This book turned out to be and today remains in my top 20 preferred books.  I am very grateful for the chance discovery.

Collier wrote about the practical psychology of abundance, desire, faith, visualization, confident action, and becoming your best.  After overcoming an illness he became fascinated with the power of the mind and how to use it to create success in every area.

Originally in 1925 Collier published his most famous book in seven brown hardback volumes under the title “The Secret of Life”.  He autographed the first volume of each set.  A year later there was a second release of the exact same material in a red seven book set under the name “The Secret of the Ages” which became the permanent title.  Within a few years the multiple volumes were combined into one hardback book and it was in-print into the 60’s.

Only in the last few years since the success in 2006 of Rhonda Byrne’s “The Secret” has Collier’s book become available again.  Collier is given a little credit in Byrne’s book, but not nearly what I believe he is due.  The new book seems to be a reworking of Colliers concepts and ideas.  However, I am certain that he would be pleased that the material continues to be meaningful and contemporary even without ample credit to him.

As a way of expressing my gratitude to Mr. Collier for this work originally done 85 years ago, I am including a few passages here:

“…We make the world without but a reflection of the world within…Thoughts are the causes.  Conditions are merely effects…”

“…No matter if you seem to be in the clutch of misfortune, no matter if the future looks black and dreary – FORGET YOUR FEARS!  Realize that the future is of your own making.  There is no power that can keep you down but yourself.  Set your goal.  Forget the obstacles between.  Forget the difficulties in the way.  Keep only the goal before your mind’s eye – and you’ll win it…”

“…Just as the first law of gain is desire, so the formula of success is faith.  Believe that you have it – see it as an existent fact – and anything you rightly wish for is yours.  Faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen…”

“…If you want more of the universal supply, you must use that which you have in such a way as to make yourself of greater service to those around you.  If you want to make more money, see how you can make more for others.  In the process you will inevitably make more for yourself too.  We get as we give – but first we must give…”

In the “Secret of Life” Collier also included a poem without credit that my research indicates anyone from Anon to Napoleon Hill may have written it along with C.W. Longnecker or Walter Wintle.

If you think you are beaten, you are;
If you think you dare not, you don’t;
If you’d like to win, but think you can’t
It’s almost a cinch you won’t;
If you think you’ll lose, you’ve lost;
For out in the world you’ll find
Success begins with a person’s mind –
It’s all in the state of mind.

Typing Collier’s thoughts here only make me more grateful for “The Secret of the Ages” coming into my life.  Somehow it crystallized what I needed to know at the time I needed to know it.  I have read the book cover to cover three times and am now on my fourth time through.  As before I am benefiting from your wisdom Mr. Collier.  Thank you Sir!

When the student is ready, the master appears.  Buddhist Proverb