Life

A Straight Line From Then To Now

/ James Browning

Going through a tattered trunk filled with old things dating back to my teen years I came across an old wallet.  Two things were inside:  a photo of my brother when he was about thirteen and a small much yellowed clipping.  I remember cutting the piece out of a Sunday newspaper “Parade” magazine and recall it was writing by a man in prison.

Why do we usually view the past as a straight line from then to now, yet view today as filled with uncertainty and chaos?  In time what makes us feel lost today will eventually be perceived as part of a future straight line view. Why can’t I have that future view now? 

It’s quite ironic I found that clipping in a wallet made by a convict.  In my formative years road maintenance, right of way mowing and trash pickup on state highways was done by trustee convicts.  These were not “chain gangs” like the movies where men are chained to each other.  All dressed in white except for their prisoner number on the back and front of their shirt and jacket, these men were free to do their work unencumbered by bindings.

In these prison work crews were usually six to ten men who were transported in the back of dump trucks.  One or two guards with side arms were present to keep track of the convicts. Usually these men were those imprisoned for nonviolent, lesser offenses and had little to gain from trying to escape beyond extending the time they had already been sentenced to.  That’s why they were called “trustees” and were men who appreciated being allowed out in the open.

The work these men did was patching potholes, putting up signs, picking up trash and driving tractors to mow the right of way.  Most appreciated the chance to work and do something meaningful.  I’m not sure of the amount but seems like that got a quarter an hour for their work or less than $3.00 per day.  Back then cigarettes were less than fifty cents a pack and so a few bucks was a lot for men who had so little.

My home Alabama county had nothing but two lanes roads until about ten years ago. In my early driving years the convict work crews would block a lane when doing work on the other side.  At each end of the work area a convict would have the job of directing traffic into the one open lane.  It never failed if you were stopped and had to wait the prisoner there would try to sell you leather goods they made.  Wallets handmade and tooled were small enough to carry in their pockets and pull out to sell.  The one I found in my old trunk was one of those:  navy blue dyed, thick leather with a tooled design all over one end.  There is no memory of what I paid the convict for it, but I remember clearly the man and joy on his face that I bought it.  Such happiness for just a few dollars for something so well made that had to have taken days.

Around lunchtime convict crews working within a few miles would come into the family store I worked at in my early teens.  This was back in the days when soft drinks almost all came in reusable bottles that were worth three cents to a bottler.  We paid two cents per bottle to anyone who brought them in.  The prisoners would frequently bring in bags (we called toe sacks) filled with bottles they picked up on the side of the road.  We paid two cents for each one to the convicts who always seemed respectful and polite.

Once observation that sticks with me yet today is almost all the men on the work crews were African-Americans.  As the years passed I connected the dots to realize that these men were being discriminated against, likely to a degree I can’t even imagine.  Yet, they were probably better off than some since they got to “work” on the “outside”.  I can’t imagine what went on with minority men who were viewed much more sternly.

Today I am grateful for several things learned seeing these prison work groups as a kid.  Between seeing these crews and visiting my Mom’s cousin in prison one time I gained a healthy respect for the law and the basic values I was taught.  Witnessing the appreciation of the convicts for being “free on the outside” helped me know I never, ever wanted to be locked up.  Seeing their appreciation for tiny, little things made an impression never to be forgotten. And my memory of the work crews is a vivid reminder of the discrimination that went on in the Deep South when I was growing up.  All those nameless men on the work crews taught me well by just by their presence.  I am grateful.  In return I tell their story here as a testament to the fact they lived.

Inside these walls
things look so gray.
But, the crimes I committed
are why I’m here today.

I keep my head up
and learn to cope.
Freedom will come again
and this gives me hope.

So many different people
with faults to accept.
Looking to God with a smile
is all I have left.

My life has been better
and I still have waters to wade.
I plan to make my life good;
Turn lemons to lemonade.

From “These Walls” by a prisoner identified only as C.S

The Point Is To Live Everything

/ James Browning

In my 20’s there was this feeling that one day everything would be just the way I hoped it would be.  I grew up believing all would come if I worked hard and was a good man who did not murder, steal, lie, commit adultery or covet what someone else had.  In every single ‘rule of life’ I was not an “A+” student, but was a good, honorable and decent young man.  Disillusion came by my early 30’s wondering why my graduation into the life I thought I deserved had not unfolded for me.  Oh, to have known then what I know now!

I beg you, to have patience with everything unresolved in your heart and to try to love the questions themselves as if they were locked rooms or books written in a very foreign language. Don’t search for the answers, which could not be given to you now, because you would not be able to live them. And the point is to live everything. Live the questions now. Perhaps then, someday far in the future, you will gradually, without even noticing it, live your way into the answer. Rainer Maria Rilke

Rilke wrote that over a hundred years ago, but his advice is as good now as then.  For me what rings most true are his words “the point is to live everything”.  In stunning simplicity I believe he states wisdom that will help lead anyone toward a richly meaningful life.  Not only the good, joyful and pleasurable should be embraced and lived; pain, disappointment and sorrow needs be lived fully as well.

My thinking used to be that grief, distress and heartbreak were interruptions to my life; just detours on the way to the “good life” I was convinced was ahead.  In retrospect it’s clear now I was living a richly wonderful and good life in my younger years, yet had limited awareness of it then.  Like one who chews food so fast they get little satisfaction or taste I was chewing up life without fully experiencing the myriad of flavors of life.

With regularity I come across quotes by Helen Keller and am touched by them, such as Life is either a daring adventure or nothing.  She gained a deep and profound wisdom that came through “living everything” well including being deaf and blind from the time she was a toddler.  Everyone knows a few people who seem to be able to bear life’s pain with poise and grace.  They have a special way of showing the world their magic without even knowing it and illustrate well the best way to live.

Famed psychologist and philosopher Carl Jung said what we resist persists.  Within those four words he encapsulates why I encountered so many malcontented years:  I resisted ‘what was’.   Fighting unchangeable reality only created more of it.  Amazingly simple to me now!

My life experience got a lot better as I learned to open up and accept ALL of my life’s circumstances. Today I know the more I resist the longer a difficulty or discomfort continues.  When I am able to accept my circumstances there is no immediate calm and joy.  Life does not work like that.  But when I can “just be” and say yes to what is, a frame of mind comes that enables me to cope well with what challenge is upon me and “live the questions” well.

Everything will be okay in the end. if it’s not okay, it’s not the end. Unknown

How You Made Them Feel

/ James Browning

The story below has come into my email several times over the last ten years, yet it never fails to touch me in a positive way.  I hope it does the same for you.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —
The Cab Ride

I arrived at the address and honked the horn. After waiting a few minutes I walked to the door and knocked.. ‘Just a minute’, answered a frail, elderly voice. I could hear something being dragged across the floor.   After a long pause, the door opened. A small woman in her 90’s stood before me. She was wearing a print dress and a pillbox hat with a veil pinned on it, like somebody out of a 1940’s movie.

By her side was a small nylon suitcase. The apartment looked as if no one had lived in it for years. All the furniture was covered with sheets. There were no clocks on the walls, no knickknacks or utensils on the counters. In the corner was a cardboard box filled with photos and glassware.

‘Would you carry my bag out to the car?’ she said. I took the suitcase to the cab, then returned to assist the woman. She took my arm and we walked slowly toward the curb.  She kept thanking me for my kindness.. ‘It’s nothing’, I told her.. ‘I just try to treat my passengers the way I would want my mother treated’.

‘Oh, you’re such a good boy’, she said. When we got in the cab, she gave me an address and then asked, ‘Could you drive through downtown?’

‘It’s not the shortest way,’ I answered quickly.  ‘Oh, I don’t mind,’ she said. ‘I’m in no hurry. I’m on my way to a hospice’.

I looked in the rear-view mirror. Her eyes were glistening. ‘I don’t have any family left,’ she continued in a soft voice.. ‘The doctor says I don’t have very long.’ I quietly reached over and shut off the meter. ‘What route would you like me to take?’ I asked.

For the next two hours, we drove through the city. She showed me the building where she had once worked as an elevator operator.  We drove through the neighborhood where she and her husband had lived when they were newlyweds She had me pull up in front of a furniture warehouse that had once been a ballroom where she had gone dancing as a girl.

Sometimes she’d ask me to slow in front of a particular building or corner and would sit staring into the darkness, saying nothing.  As the first hint of sun was creasing the horizon, she suddenly said, ‘I’m tired. Let’s go now’.

We drove in silence to the address she had given me. It was a low building, like a small convalescent home, with a driveway that passed under a portico.  Two orderlies came out to the cab as soon as we pulled up. They were solicitous and intent, watching her every move. They must have been expecting her.

I opened the trunk and took the small suitcase to the door. The woman was already seated in a wheelchair.  ‘How much do I owe you?’ she asked, reaching into her purse.  ‘Nothing,’ I said.

‘You have to make a living,’ she answered.  ‘There are other passengers,’ I responded.

Almost without thinking, I bent and gave her a hug. She held onto me tightly.  ‘You gave an old woman a little moment of joy,’ she said. ‘Thank you.’  I squeezed her hand, and then walked into the dim morning light… Behind me, a door shut. It was the sound of the closing of a life.

I didn’t pick up any more passengers that shift. I drove aimlessly lost in thought. For the rest o f that day, I could hardly talk. What if that woman had gotten an angry driver, or one who was impatient to end his shift? What if I had refused to take the run, or had honked once, then driven away?

On a quick review, I don’t think that I have done anything more important in my life.

We’re conditioned to think that our lives revolve around great moments..

But great moments often catch us unaware-beautifully wrapped in what others may consider a small one.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

Reading again about the kindness in the story I am grateful to be reminded that people and love is all that really matters.

I’ve learned that people will forget what you said,
people will forget what you did,
but people will never forget how you made them feel.
Maya Angelou

Content and Worth of My Thoughts

/ James Browning

Having had a series of little things happen all in one day I found the peace of mind from a wonderful week’s vacation knocked slightly off-balance this past weekend. I lost my car keys and never found them, a candle melted on a pillow and a speaker, a folding closet door broke off its hinges, an electronic photo frame a deceased friend gave me stopped working and three other similar annoyances came at me inside six hours.  But I am OK! I used number one and number two below of my ‘twelve guidelines for peace of mind’.  Almost always when I find myself agitated, uneasy, worried or irritated it is because I am violating one of my own guidelines.

1.  The only control possible is control over myself.  I can’t change what happens to me, but I can exercise some power over my feelings about any occurrence.  Plus, only when I am in self-control can I learn any lesson that might be shown to me.

2.  Accept what is.  Every day I will face inconveniences, annoyances, accidents, aches and pains that are completely beyond my control. The power of peace comes from my enduring them cheerfully.  When I do sometimes a disadvantage becomes an advantage.

3.  Give up the need to be recognized or noticed.  Praise is only momentary.  Nurturing my sense of worth is far more important than the praise of another.  All I need to do is believe in myself, do my best to live ethically and sincerely and let go of perfection.

4. Keep the green monster of jealousy out of my life.  Being jealous blocks my peace and ties me up with animosity, longing and fear while showing only insecurity.  Jealousy or envy always brings restlessness and is a quick and easy way to show just how stupid I can be.

5. Stay out of other people’s business.  I need to mind my own business no matter how good my intentions are.  Because I think my way is the best does not mean it is for someone else!  I must let others have their “own stuff” without interfering.

6. Forgiveness is a gift I give myself.  Nurturing ill feelings is like taking poison and expecting someone else to get sick.  Resentments and grievances fester to hurt only the one who bears them:  ME!  Forget, forgive, and move on.

7. Limit intake of information.  After a point “the news” is simply mental noise. My rule of thumb is consume no more newscasts, data and information than I need. Over indulging makes peace elusive as my mind becomes like an overloaded ship that’s difficult to sail and keep on course.

8. Listen to my intuition and my heart. My heart accurately guides me toward what is right.  When I pay attention to my intuition, deepest values and principles I find them to be nearly always a more accurate navigation system than my thoughts.

9. Eliminate unessential stuff.  This is a work in progress, but I FINALLY get “less is more”.  It is easier to have a peaceful mind with less to worry about. Eliminating the non-essential allows more focus better on the essential.

10. Think about self less.  In the past the majority of time was spent thinking about my needs and problems.  The lesson learned has been that purely self-centered thoughts rarely bring peace. More than ever I try to cultivate thoughts of what I can do for others and then do them.

11. Slow down.  My life is far too much of a rush, but I realize the detriment of it.  Another work in progress.  To make the best decisions I need to slow down and step away from distractions.  Only then can my heart and intuition best guide me.

12. Less procrastination. Failing the first time does not really matter.  Mistakes usually can be rectified.  Too much time previously was wasted with “should I or shouldn’t I?” Months and even years were lost in my futile mental debating. The key is to get off my buff just do it.

My gratitude this morning?  To be past the nagging happenings of Saturday!  The quality of my life begins with the content and worth of my thoughts.

Do not confuse peace of mind with spaced-out insensitivity.
A truly peaceful mind is very sensitive, very aware.
Tenzin Gyatso, the 14th Dalai Lama

Frequently What Passes As Common Fact

/ James Browning

On occasion I find myself daydreaming about living in a different time; a simpler time as I perceive it to be. It is then my romanticized thoughts often drift to the mental imagery I have of the Victorian era of 120-150 years ago.

Many of my favorite poets and writers lived then.  To a large degree it is through their work my thoughts about that ‘old time’ have been created.  However, I often forget those authors were among the priviledged, if not wealthy.  Their time of the “Victorians” was a grand one of change and invention such as the telephone, radio, toilet, camera, train, vacuum cleaner and sewing machine (but only the very rich could afford them).

There were some curious and odd beliefs then. For example, If a single Victorian man called another single woman by her first name, it implied engagement. When a woman entered a room, it was considered rude for a man to offer his seat to her because the cushion might still be warm. For a lady to show her ankles was considered very risqué!

People thought food digested better in the dark, so a dining room located in the basement was considered the best spot in which to eat during Victorian years. A glance by a visitor into a bedroom was considered improper, so bedrooms were usually located on the second floor. Toilets were always stealthily hidden behind walls and/or curtains and it was considered grossly impolite to ask to use the bathroom when visiting another’s home.

And another little oddity: The Victorians began keeping Hedgehogs in their basements in an effort to control insects. The little things curled up and slept during the daytime, but roamed around dark kitchens at night eating cockroaches and other insects.

To shake me fully out of a fantasy world there are the Victorian health concerns such as Tuberculosis, called “consumption”; the main killer of the time along with rampant pneumonia, influenza and diarrhea. To make matters worse the poor or sick were often sent to harsh institutions called a poorhouse or workhouse.

And to make sure I have returned to reality, the following are all true facts about life in the United States in the early 1900’s just after the Victorian Period:
– The average life expectancy was 47 years.
– 14 percent of the homes had a bathtub.
– 8 percent of the homes had a telephone. 3 minute call from Denver to NYC cost $11.
– 8,000 cars and 144 miles of paved roads. Max speed limit in most cities was 10 mph.
– Average wage was 22 cents per hour. Average worker $200-$400 per year.
– 95 percent of all births took place at home. 90% doctors had no college education
– Sugar cost 4 cents a pound, eggs 14 cents a dozen and coffee was 15 cents a pound.
– Most women washed their hair once a month with borax or egg yolks for shampoo.
– 2 of every 10 adults couldn’t read or write. Only 6 percent graduated high school.
– Marijuana, heroin, and morphine were all available over the counter at the local drugstore including Bayer’s heroin, Metcalf coca wine, opium for asthma, cocaine tablets and drops.

All of a sudden everyday simple things mean a lot more. Just a few minutes ago I made a roundtrip to the kitchen where I flipped on the lights to get another cup of coffee from my automatic coffee maker, then moved the hallway furnace thermostat up a couple of degrees and stopped for a bathroom pit stop on my way back to my office. Very quickly Victorian life seems very challenging and difficult as compared to now. Already being eleven years past the average life expectancy of 100 years it is impossible not to stumble across gratitude for the time my life is being lived.

The good old days are never as good as they are reminisced to be…NOT EVER!  Time has a way of hiding away the jagged and sharp edges while keeping mostly the smooth and inviting parts.  Frequently what passes as common fact is actually only myth. Instead of wishing for what is long past, I choose instead to be grateful for the time of my life. One day, many will look back and wish they could have lived in my here and now.

In daily life we must see that it is not happiness that makes us grateful,
but gratefulness that makes us happy.
Brother David Steindl-Rast

Right Outside Your Door

/ James Browning / 3 Comments

Life unfolds in the present. But so often, we let the present slip away, allowing time to rush past unobserved and unseized, and squandering the precious seconds of our lives as we worry about the future and ruminate about what’s past. “We’re living in a world that contributes in a major way to mental fragmentation, disintegration, distraction, decoherence,” says Buddhist scholar B. Alan Wallace. We’re always doing something, and we allow little time to practice stillness and calm.

When we’re at work, we fantasize about being on vacation; on vacation, we worry about the work piling up on our desks. We dwell on intrusive memories of the past or fret about what may or may not happen in the future. We don’t appreciate the living present because our “monkey minds,” as Buddhists call them, vault from thought to thought like monkeys swinging from tree to tree.

Most of us don’t undertake our thoughts in awareness. Rather, our thoughts control us. “Ordinary thoughts course through our mind like a deafening waterfall,” writes Jon Kabat-Zinn, the biomedical scientist who introduced meditation into mainstream medicine. In order to feel more in control of our minds and our lives, to find the sense of balance that eludes us, we need to step out of this current, to pause, and, as Kabat-Zinn puts it, to “rest in stillness—to stop doing and focus on just being.”

We need to live more in the moment. Living in the moment—also called mindfulness—is a state of active, open, intentional attention on the present. When you become mindful, you realize that you are not your thoughts; you become an observer of your thoughts from moment to moment without judging them. Mindfulness involves being with your thoughts as they are, neither grasping at them nor pushing them away. Instead of letting your life go by without living it, you awaken to experience.   From a “Psychology Today” article By Jay Dixit November 01, 2008 link

“True Joy” by M. Jolynn Rawson-Hunt
I’ll be happy once I’ve done this certain thing.
We all say this often not realizing what it brings.
We look only to the future for our happiness.
Letting life slip through our fingers in its fullness.
Will we really feel complete when the task is done,
or look back and see how we missed so much fun?
Self consumed so we can’t see anything else,
hurting those we love as well as ourselves.
So many things around us to be grateful for,
when seeking for an answer willingly open the door.
So often, others see what’s in front of our face,
but we’re too blind to look as we’re snared in the race.
What is this life supposed to be about?
Is it money, fortune, fame, or a big house?
When speaking to a man on his dying bed,
none of these answers are what he said.
Family, love, laughter are what we should seek.
These are the precious things right outside your door.

Trying to be fully present in the “now” is a battle regularly fought and I am grateful for any reminder that brings me more fully to “this moment”.  Frequently I drift into the “stinkin’ thinkin'” about the past or present, but find more quickly than ever I can snap back into the now.  All I have to do is be mindful of what I am doing and reset myself.  I am grateful for the path I have walked and am still on, that moves me ever so slowly to being more and more fully present in the “now”.

Waste not fresh tears over old grief’s.
Euripides

Thanks For Your Time

/ James Browning

A message was in my email this morning from a dear friend I have known for 35 years.  Even though we have not lived in the same city for close to 30 years we have used phone calls, emails and occasional visits to keep our friendship intact.  Bob spent decades working in the entertainment industry including some years as road manager for John Mellencamp.  This morning he sent me a story I have seen many times and while I always found it meaningful, this is the first time it had a dinsinctively personal meaning to me. 

James, my friend Bob’s son, has followed in his father’s footsteps and works as a sound technician for a major country act called Lady Antebellum.  Bob sent the story below as thanks to me for spending time with his son.  The tour James works on was in town rehearsing and performing at our big arena.  Like his Father, James is a good man and I am proud to have known him he was born. 

Over the phone, his mother told him, “Mr. Belser died last night. The funeral is Wednesday.” Memories flashed through his mind like an old newsreel as he sat quietly remembering his childhood days.  “Jack, did you hear me?” 

“Oh, sorry, Mom. Yes, I heard you. It’s been so long since I thought of him. I’m sorry, but I honestly thought he died years ago,” Jack said. 

“Well, he didn’t forget you. Every time I saw him he’d ask how you were doing. He’d reminisce about the many days you spent over ‘his side of the fence’ as he put it,” Mom told him.  “I loved that old house he lived in,” Jack said.

“You know, Jack, after your father died, Mr. Belser stepped in to make sure you had a man’s influence in your life,” she said.  “He’s the one who taught me carpentry,” he said. “I wouldn’t be in this business if it weren’t for him. He spent a lot of time teaching me things he thought were important. Mom, I’ll be there for the funeral,” Jack said.

As busy as he was, he kept his word. Jack caught the next flight to his hometown. Mr. Belser’s funeral was small and uneventful. He had no children of his own, and most of his relatives had passed away.

The night before he had to return home, Jack and his Mom stopped to see the old house next door; one more time.  Standing in the doorway, Jack paused for a moment. It was like crossing over into another dimension, a leap through space and time. The house was
exactly as he remembered. Every step held memories; every picture, every piece of furniture. Jack stopped suddenly.  “What’s wrong, Jack?” his Mom asked. 

“The box is gone,” he said

“What box?” Mom asked.

“There was a small gold box that he kept locked on top of his desk. I must have asked him a thousand times what was inside. All he’d ever tell me was ‘the thing I value most” Jack said.  It was gone. Everything about the house was exactly how Jack remembered it,
except for the box. He figured someone from the Belser family had taken it.

“Now I’ll never know what was so valuable to him,” Jack said. “I better get some sleep. I have an early flight home, Mom.”

It had been about two weeks since Mr. Belser died. Returning home from work one day Jack discovered a note in his mailbox. “Signature required on a package. No one at home. Please stop by the main post office within the next three days,” the note read. Early the next day Jack retrieved the package. The small box was old and looked like it had been mailed a hundred years ago. The handwriting was difficult to read, but the sender caught his attention:  Mr. Harold Belser.

Jack took the box out to his car and ripped open the package. There inside was the gold box and an envelope. Jack’s hands shook as he read the note inside. “Upon my death, please forward this box and its contents to Jack Bennett.  It’s the thing I valued most in my life.” A small key was taped to the letter. His heart racing, as tears filling his eyes, Jack carefully unlocked the box. There inside he found a beautiful gold pocket watch.

Running his fingers slowly over the finely etched casing, he unlatched the cover. Inside he found these words engraved: “Jack Thanks for your time! Harold Belser.”

Joe immediately thought “The thing he valued most was… my time!”  He held the watch for a few minutes, then called his office and cleared his appointments for the next two days. “Why?” Janet, his assistant asked. “I need some time to spend with my son,” he said.

There is a story I tell sometimes about a man named Bill who encouraged me to pursue my profession when I was eighteen.  He told me I had real talent for the business and there was a bright future ahead if I would work hard.  When our paths crossed twenty years later he remembered me well, but when I thanked him for his encouragement he had no memory of saying those things to me. 

Each of us never knows when what we do or say will have a big impact on another person.  I am grateful for Bob’s note today that reminds me how each of us affects others.  My awareness is increased to do my best to make the impact I have on people always a positive thing.

Act as if what you do makes a difference.  It does.
William James

Light in the Dark

/ James Browning

Back in the 90’s I learned an uncommon method of idea generation called “reverse brainstorming”. This works just like a standard brainstorm, but the object is to come up with items that will put you as far away as possible from achieving an objective. Within this method when a “how not to list” is completed one goes back and reverses all the negative statements into positive and helpful ones.

Anyone can come up with a list of to “do/don’t-do’s” that contribute to “a long, healthful and fulfilling life”. However when the subject is reversed, insight from a different vantage point often comes from brainstorming how NOT to achieve an objective. For example, here’s a list of brainstormed ideas about “how to have a short, unhealthy and unfulfilling life”.

1. Be self-destructive. Do everything in excess. Drink, smoke, do drugs, overeat and always ignore signs of illness and sickness. Get as little sleep as possible.

2. Make life all about money. Get a personal identity through material possessions. Let more never be enough. Possess to impress.

3. Spend lots of time reliving the past. Harbor resentments. Hold onto grudges. Never forget and always try to get even.

4. Have no personal integrity. Be irresponsible and indifferent. Steal, lie, and cheat. Only you matter. Other people are irrelevant.

5. Zone-out as much as possible. Lots of television and/or video games. Spend hours on-line wandering around, gambling and looking at porn.  Be Compulsive.

6. Play it safe. Never take even the smallest chance. Settle far short of one’s dreams. Don’t take risks, even calculated ones. Give up often and easily.
 
7. Dislike life as much as possible. Be unsatisfied, ungrateful. Complain about everything. Whine a lot. Make sure everyone knows your unhappiness.

8. Live in the future. Spend little time on ‘now’ and focus on what will be. Imagine and fantasize how the future will be better in all ways. Think, don’t do.

9. Dislike all people. Be selfish. Be prejudiced. Be a hater. Show contempt to other people. Never be kind. Always rough and crude.

10. Make it near impossible for others to love you. People matter only for what they can give you or do for you. Be obnoxious. Be aloof. Let fear keep people from getting close.

So how’s that for a list. Successfully applying even just a few of them effectively could certainly result in the achievement of “a short, unhealthy and unfulfilling life”.

Here’s the list “reversed” in synopsis form:
1. Don’t be self-destructive. Drink little or none. Don’t smoke. Rest. Good self-care.
2. Life is not about money. Get your personal identity from living and loving.
3. Get out of the past. Let go resentments and grudges. Hold onto mistakes.
4. Have personal integrity. Responsible, caring. Don’t steal, lie and cheat.
5. Be engaged with life. Moderate distraction. Careful of what addicts you. .
6. Don’t always play it safe. Take risks for your dreams. Don’t settle easily.
7. Fall in love with life. Be satisfied and grateful. Try not to complain or whine.
8. Live in “now” and not the future. Focus on living your life well today.
9. See good in others. Openly be kind. Don’t be selfish, prejudiced and never hate.
10.Let people love you. Be thoughtful and gentle. Don’t let fear keep others away.

On a regular basis I end up with absolutely no idea where a concept to write here comes from. Sometimes an idea feels almost divinely delivered. Such was the case this morning in the unorthodox creation of a list for better living using “reverse brainstorming”. I am grateful for the “reversed list” of good living reminders and even more thankful for the unknown source of the idea;  the light in the dark that always seems to come to me when I need it.

I am so much more when I realize I am not all there is.

Each morning when I open my eyes I say to myself: I, not events, have the power to make me happy or unhappy today. I can choose which it shall be. Yesterday is dead, tomorrow hasn’t arrived yet. I have just one day, today, and I’m going to be happy in it. Groucho Marx
 
 

The Chance of a Lifetime

/ James Browning

A picture can truly say a thousand words.
A handful of words accompanied by a ten photos speaks volumes more.

“A New Day” by Walterrean Salley
It’s a new day
Another chance to discover
And rediscover
And make changes
And enjoy life.

 A chance to reach out.
A chance to hold on
To the things that are dear.

It’s a new day
Another opportunity.
A chance to live

And love
And laugh
The chance of a lifetime

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“A New Day” by Dr. Heartsill Wilson

This is the beginning of a new day.
I have been given this day to use as I will.
I can waste it, or use it.

I can make it a day long to be remembered for its joy,
its beauty and its achievements,
or it can be filled with pettiness.

What I do today is important because I am exchanging a day of my life for it.

 When tomorrow comes this day will be gone forever,
but I shall hold something which I have traded for it.

It may be no more than a memory,
but if it is a worthy one I shall not regret the price.

 I want it to be gain not loss, good not evil, success not failure.

Before today I have lived 21,390 days.  This morning another is added to that total with greater gratitude within for life than in any previous day.

We often take for granted the very things that most deserve our gratitude.
Cynthia Ozick

The Shack Out Back

/ James Browning / 1 Comment

There is no memory of ever being in one that was painted. The look was always old wood worn gray by rain, sun and cold. Built for function and not comfort, I remember none that were fancy or adorned in any fashioned. Simple and functional they were placed a good distance from any house for good reason.

Writing about outhouses to some will make me appear older than my years, but such was life in the rural south when I was growing up. My tenth birthday came and went before I remember living in a house with an indoor toilet. The “shack out back” was all we had. Clear in memory is my parents talking about saving up to have a bathroom installed in the house, but the money always ended up having to go for something else.

Potty training was done with me learning to literally sit on “pot” to prepare me to sit on an “adapter” (board with an oval hole in it) that was placed over the bigger hole in the outhouse so a little guy like me would not fall in (a real fear when I was little). Age has a way of making vision backwards cause things to appear either worse or better than they were. For using an outhouse both positive and negative thoughts appear in conflicted memory, but above all I am glad that at least we had that little “shack out back”.

When frost is on the outhouse,
And frozen dew is on the seat;
It’s then that nature’s duty calls
And you move with hurried feet!

You make a quick deposit
Then to the house and fireside
You hurry without fail…
With frozen stuff hanging from your nose
And frostbite on your tail!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Scorned and ridiculed, most lowly old shack,
Your name brings a smile to all without fail,
But, without you, some folks surely would lack,
You, with your catalog, your lime, your pail…

A stark silhouette, ‘gainst meadow or glade,
Flies buzz’in, occasional hornet or two…
Such character, rough planks, from which you were made,
That AMBIENCE, makes minutes seem hours — PHEEWWW!!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A nasty old perch straddles dark, hellish pit,
The least winsome place on God’s good, green earth!
Minds fear a fall into four feet of s_ _ _,
Lungs burst, holding breath for all they’re worth!

This tribute must close, though hardly begun,
We’ve painted a scene both gross and sublime,
Hark! Do I hear some more steps on the run??
To not pay you laud would be such a crime!

The little “shack out back” had many nicknames like the La La, the Garden House, the Privy, the Crapper, the Outdoor Convenience, the Necessesry, the Outback and more. But whatever you call it, that “little house” served me well the first ten years of my life.  I am grateful for its service (and I’m even more grateful when we moved to a house with a bathroom at the start of my second decade on Earth!)

This morning imagining not having an indoor bathroom and having to use a “shack out back” is a very quick way to find simple and humble gratitude on a March 1st winter morning.

Only a stomach that rarely feels hungry scorns common things.
Horace