Life

What Do I Feel?

/ James Browning / 1 Comment

Having been in recovery from codependence for over four years, it is easy to notice how much better off I am now.  The “constant noise and emotional confusion” inside has dimmed to just a whisper the vast majority of the time.  While not true 100%, mostly the “not good enough feelings” are greatly diminished or gone entirely.  That is a near miracle!

What is codependence?  An answer from:  http://www.allaboutcounseling.com/codependency.htm

Codependency is a set of *maladaptive, *compulsive behaviors learned by family members in order to survive in a family which is experiencing *great emotional abuse; pain and stress.

*maladaptive – inability for a person to develop behaviors which get needs met.
*compulsive – psychological state where a person acts against their own will or conscious desires.
*sources of great emotional pain and stress – chemical dependency; chronic mental illness; chronic physical illness; physical abuse; sexual abuse; emotional abuse; divorce; hypercritical or non-loving environment.

As adults, codependent people have a greater tendency to get involved in “toxic relationships”, in other words with people who are perhaps unreliable, emotionally unavailable, or needy. And the codependent person tries to provide and control everything within the relationship without addressing their own needs or desires; setting themselves up for continued un-fulfillment.

Even when a codependent person encounters someone with healthy boundaries, the codependent person still operates in their own system; they’re not likely to get too involved with people who have healthy boundaries. This of course creates problems that continue to recycle; if codependent people can’t get involved with people who have healthy behaviors and coping skills, then the problems continue into each new relationship.

I borrowed the definition of codependency, to set up the following story from the book “Tuesdays With Morrie” by Mitch Albom.

On this day, Morrie says that he has an exercise for us to try. We are to stand, facing away from our classmates, and fall backward, relying on another student to catch us. Most of us are uncomfortable with this, and we cannot let go for more than a few inches before stopping ourselves. We laugh in embarrassment.
 
Finally, one student, a thin, quiet, dark-haired girl whom I notice almost always wears bulky, white fisherman sweaters, crosses her arms over her chest, closes her eyes, leans back, and does not flinch, like one of those Lipton tea commercials where the model splashes into the pool.
 
For a moment, I am sure she is going to thump on the floor. At the last instant, her assigned partner grabs her head and shoulders and yanks her up harshly.
 
“Whoa!” several students yell. Some clap. Morrie finally smiles. “You see”, he says to the girl, “you closed your eyes.  That was the difference. Sometimes you cannot believe what you see; you have to believe what you feel. And if you are ever going to have other people trust you, you must feel that you can trust them too – even when you’re in the dark, even when you’re falling”.

As I have been able to let go of being what I thought people wanted me to be and instead keep healthy boundaries and be true to myself, life has greatly improved.  However, there are still times when I get bewildered.  Coming to “believe what I feel” is a challenge then when I am emotionally like a seven year-old boy trying to sort it out.  When one has “put on” feelings and ways of being for as long as I have, it can hard here and there to know what is pretend and fake from what is real and true.  But every day this gets a little easier.   

I am very grateful for what I have learned and put into practice through my involvement with Codependents Anonymous.   Application of such things is responsible for a great improvement in the quality of my life.  I am glad to say I am happy most of time.  When I ask myself “what do I feel?”  An answer does not always come, but usually one does.  I am very thankful to be the most emotionally healthy today I have ever been. 

The walls we build around us to keep sadness out also keeps out the joy.  Jim Rohn

Find out more about codependence here:

http://www.webmd.com/sex-relationships/features/signs-of-a-codependent-relationship

http://www.allaboutlifechallenges.org/codependency.htm

http://www.addictionz.com/20_questions_for_codependents.htm (20 question quiz to find out if you might suffer with codependence

Chivalrous Until Death

/ James Browning / 2 Comments

 As long as I live I will not forget an occurrence in  Chicago about 20 years ago.  Winter was upon Chi-town and everyone was bundled, scarf’d and glove’d up.  It had been snowing lightly all morning.  In the city on business I had just gotten out of a cab and was walking toward the doors of an office building for an appointment.  Even though I was a few minutes late, I stopped to open the door for a 20-something woman.  She was insulted!  WHAT?!?!   

I was shocked.  Immediately the woman I opened the door for went into a 10 second diatribe so well-organized and rehearsed I realized later she had delivered it many times.  The barbs the young woman threw at me were something like “I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself and don’t need a chauvinistic male like you to open doors for me.  I take it as a personal affront that you think as a woman I am weak and require your assistance.  Take your macho male b@!ls#!t and shove it!”  Then she stormed through the door.  I just stood there dumbfounded while continuing to hold the door for at least a few seconds.  Another guy who heard what she said just looked at me, then her and shook his head.   

I was raised with a sense of old-fashioned traditional values that include saying “please and thank you”, showing respect to elders, letting women and children go first and opening doors for ladies of ALL ages.  The woman I encountered in Chicago was no lady!  To this day I wonder what happened that made her respond the way she did.  Was it she was overweight and physically unattractive and lacked male attention that she reviled any man who reminded her of the lack?  Did she hate men?  I have no idea.  Whatever it was, it is her problem.  Not mine.  I believe chivalrous acts are beautiful trimmings of human experience.  All my life I will continue to practice those respectful acts knowing 99.9% appreciate the gestures.  (I also open doors for men and am usually the last through).

Apparently opening doors for ladies goes back to the days when the women of nobility wore ornate gowns and outfits. In a full formal outfit, a lady could not reach the door if she tried – at least not in a fashionable way that conveyed the grace she was portraying.  Her escort thus opened the door for her.  Women today benefit from a lot that has come about in the last 50 years to shore up inequality they previously suffered under.  Even today there is improvement needed.  I believe today’s women are inherently powerful and capable but also believe chivalry still has its place.  Kindness and respect still matter! 

I was alarmed to find an article in a Great Britain newspaper titled “Men Who Hold Open Doors for Women Are SEXIST Not Chivalrous, Feminists Claim”.  Supposedly researchers from the Society for the Psychology of Women conducted a study among workers of both genders in America and Germany.  Their conclusion was men who open doors for women are guilty of ‘benevolent sexism’.  Also, according to the new study by a group of feminist psychologists referring to a group of men and women as ‘guys’ is a no-no.  (I got corrected once for that back in the mid-80’s in California by a group of four women).  The article goes on to state that women are unaware of it but are unwittingly affected because it helps to create a culture of women being seen as the vulnerable sex who need a man’s help. 

There’s a Bob Seger song that contains the lyrics “Call me a relic, call me what’cha will.  Say I’m old-fashioned.  Say I’m over the hill”.  If those words fit, then so be it.  I believe a real man always opens the door for a woman.  A woman who does not allow a man to open the door for her, or has stopped expecting it, has lost her way. To me being polite to the opposite sex will never go out of style regardless if that woman is a boss, mother, sister, daughter, friend, or stranger. 

Added as a footnote, I do have one pet peeve about the matter of opening doors.  I believe my chivalrous duty is not the public at large. I don’t know how many times I’ve opened a door for a woman then stood there holding the door for a gaggle of complete strangers. Consequently, the woman accompanying me was left standing in the lobby alone, waiting.  I try to be courteous to everyone, but my priority is with the woman I am with.  

This morning I am grateful for the two older women I opened the door for yesterday while out shopping. They smiled at me as if I had given them a momentary priceless gift reflected in their direct eye contact and a “thank you sir” spoken with great sincerity.  And to the woman in line at the registers I let go in front of me, I regret that such kindness came as such a surprise you felt you had to gush your thankfulness.  At the time I was in a hurry but not so much I forgot my manners.  I am glad to have put a little positive energy into your day. It is my honor to open doors for women and I am grateful to those who appreciate it.  Even for those that don’t, it is the gift of respect I give that benefits the giver:  ME! 

Gallantry to women – the sure road to their favor – is nothing but the appearance of extreme devotion to all their wants and wishes, a delight in their satisfaction, and a confidence in yourself as being able to contribute toward it.  William Hazlitt

To Be Loved a Little More

/ James Browning

“Before Sunrise” is a movie made in 1995 starring Ethan Hawke as a young American named Jesse and Julie Delpy as Celine, a young French Girl.  They meet on a train and end up getting off together in Vienna where they spend the night walking around the city getting to know each other.  Celine is a romantic with doubts and Jesse is cynic when it comes to affairs of the heart.  Thinking they will never see each other again both are more revealing about them self that they normally would be.  “Before Sunset” is a sequel that picks up the story nine years after the events of the first movie.

I am grateful for the hapless romantic in me that is brought to the surface when I watch these favorite movies.  The dialogue runs the gamut from insightful and revealing to touching and amusing.   Here are randomly selected pieces of the movies.

Jesse:  I don’t know, I think that if I could just accept the fact that my life is supposed to be difficult. You know, that’s what to be expected, then I might not get so pissed-off about it and I’ll just be glad when something nice happens. 

Celine:  If there’s any kind of magic in this world, it must be in the attempt of understanding someone, sharing something. I know, it’s almost impossible to succeed, but…who cares, really? The answer must be in the attempt. 

Jesse:  You know what drives me crazy? It’s all these people talking about how great technology is, and how it saves all this time. But, what good is saved time, if nobody uses it? If it just turns into more busy work. You never hear somebody say, “With the time I’ve saved by using my word processor, I’m gonna go to a Zen monastery and hang out”. 

Celine:   The reality of it is that the true work of improving things is in the little achievements of the day 

Jesse:  Maybe what I’m saying is the world might be evolving the way a person evolves. Right? Like, me for example. Am I getting worse? Am I improving? I don’t know. When I was younger, I was healthier, but I was whacked with insecurity. Now I’m older and my problems are deeper, but I’m more equipped to handle them. 

Celine:   Isn’t everything we do in life a way to be loved a little more? 

Jesse:  You realize that most of the people that you meet are trying to get somewhere better, they’re trying to make a little bit more cash, trying to get a little more respect, have more people admire them. It’s just exhausting. 

Celine:   I like to feel his eyes on me when I look away. 

Jesse:  I don’t have any permanent place here. You know, in eternity, or whatever. And the more I think that, I can’t go through life saying that this is no big deal. I mean, this is it! This is actually happening. What do you think is interesting, what do you think is funny, what do you think is important? You know, every day is our last. 

Celine:   Now, it’s almost impossible to succeed, but…who cares, really? The answer must be in the attempt. 

Jesse:  I heard this story once about when the Germans were occupying Paris and they had to retreat back. They wired Notre Dame to blow, but they had to leave one guy in charge of hitting the switch. And the guy, the soldier, he couldn’t do it. You know, he just sat there, knocked out by how beautiful the place was. And then when the allied troops came in, they found all the explosives just lying there and the switch unturned, and they found the same thing at Sacre Couer, Eiffel Tower. Couple other places I think…
Celine:  Is that true?
Jesse:  I don’t know. I always liked the story, though.
 
Almost at the end of the second movie, “Before Sunset” Julie Delpy sings a song portrayed as being one Celine wrote about their first meeting nine years before.  

Let me sing you a waltz
Out of nowhere, out of my thoughts
Let me sing you a waltz
About this one night stand
You were, for me, that night
Everything I always dreamt of in life
But now you’re gone
You are far gone
All the way to your island of rain
It was for you just a one night thing
But you were much more to me, just so you know
I don’t care what they say
I know what you meant for me that day
I just want another try, I just want another night
Even if it doesn’t seem quite right
You meant for me much more than anyone I’ve met before
One single night with you, little Jesse, is worth a thousand with anybody
I have no bitterness, my sweet
I’ll never forget this one night thing
Even tomorrow in other arms, my heart will stay yours until I die
Let me sing you a waltz
Out of nowhere, out of my blues
Let me sing you a waltz
About this lovely one night stand

Neither movie reaches a conclusion and one watching must fill in that blank the way they imagine it to turn out.  With a short visit to what is said and sung in “Before Sunrise” and “Before Sunset” my morning is a bit brighter.  I am grateful for the sweetness I always feel when exposed to these two films.  They portray falling in love as imperfect, yet at its very best.  

True love is like ghosts, which everybody talks about,
but few have seen.  
Duc de la Rochefoucauld

Power of the Written Word

/ James Browning

Writing here and allowing others to know my deepest thoughts, both the admirable and venerable and the dark and painful, has been an interesting experience.  Of all those whose feedback I receive it is often those who perceive they know me best who are seem surprised most.  

What is found on this blog is a sort of self-therapy, where I open myself to write unfiltered for my own eyes to see more clearly the musing that swims within.  Casting them into the world forces me even further to face them.  No running away when anyone can read them!  There are dear friends who make comments like “let her go”, “you’re pretend happy”, “stop thinking like that”, “you imagine things that can never be”, “you’re wallowing in your pain” or simply “that’s a fairy tale”.  I reflect back two thoughts:  “How effective is it to tell someone in pain to stop hurting” and “If I am happy in my delusion, what is the harm of it”. 

How richly I am blessed to have friends who care about me so much they wish to ‘set me straight’.  I know they have only the very best intention in mind.  My gratitude is deep and wide for those who love me and wish my life to be better.  I am richly blessed. 

My finding is when I release my thoughts to the world in an uninhibited and often down-right raw manner that gesture alone is healing for me.  By sharing my undisclosed and concealed secrets, positive and negative, I become mentally quieter and more content. 

A yearning of mine may appear to some to be pure fantasy or wishing for the impossibly perfect. Usually I know when I am expressing one of those dreams one wishes for knowing it is somewhere between highly unlikely and completely impracticable.  Thinking in such a manner has brought the hidden child within me back to life with sparkling hope.  Just as a five-year-old wishes for innocent whimsy, the dream alone is the answer to its wish. 

A pining for a long-lost love or rehash of old childhood pain is only a further release for me of tension and discomfort that remains.  With each little spew and hiss of words, the pressure of the slowly diminishing hurt is relieved a bit more:  a healthy practice.     

How often I have failed to understand the emotion behind the content of an email as I paint the words on the screen with the emotional color I add.  I am coming to realize that each person who reads what I write here filters my words differently.  The meaning received by each reader is different from the next and frequently askew by a little or a lot of what I was thinking and feeling when the words first appeared on my screen.  That’s OK! 

What pleases me most is I am striking chords within others.  As a friend accurately pointed out, people usually respond strongest toward what we read or hear when the content is already alive within the reader.  To share about pain can awaken someone else to release a bit of a hurt.  To share about joy can renew another’s delight. To share about anguish can rouse and help diminish a reader’s agony.  To share about gladness can rekindle bliss…. And so on.    

From an article titled “Word Play: The Power of the Written Word in Ancient Israel” by Joey Corbett comes:  To the modern world, the written word is often taken for granted. We are so removed from the origins of writing that when we write something, whether on a piece of paper, on a sign or on the internet, we don’t even think about the physical act of creating words. For us, writing is simply a means to an end, an almost primordial and instinctive technology that we use to communicate with each other. 

… when alphabetic writing had just begun to spread across the masses of the ancient Near East, written words were far more than idle marks meant simply to be read. Words were repositories of power, physical vessels that gave material reality to one’s innermost thoughts and even the soul itself. 

The magical properties of writing meant that written words, once they came into being, were active and sometimes even unstable forces that could be manipulated, both for good and for ill. 

As an avid reader since early childhood, I am grateful to see the return of the power of the written word.  For soon to be a hundred years the spoken word has grown in strength through radio, telephone and television.  With the internet  written word that has become powerful again.  Whether expressing deep emotions that touch others or writing of injustice that overturns governments, we live again in a time of power for the written word.  I am very grateful for this turn of events and hope my small contributions serve in some small way to better life for a few in this modern world.   

Words must surely be counted
among the most powerful drugs man ever invented.
Leo Rosten

“Stay Hungry, Stay Foolish” (Steve Jobs)

/ James Browning / 1 Comment

As I get older I am reminded more of death as friends and family make that transition.  This morning I will be packing for a trip to another state to attend services for a dear friend’s father.  He was eight-six and lived a good long life.  Yet at the same time it’s sad that he departed so soon.  It will be a somber occasion regarding the loss and a happy one in  celebration of a good man’s life.

There is no doubt I will cherish life a little more through the experience of the next few days.  At least for a short while life’s reality will be a little clearer.  Certainly coming face to face with another’s passing will bring my eventual destination more prominently before me and in my thoughts.  And maybe the most important of all I will witness the love of family for one another and how each helps another bear the difficulty of this moment of life.  I know the door of sadness I will walk through initially will have me walking out later tempered with love, joy and gladness.

Steve Jobs died only a week ago.  He gave a remarkable commencement address to Stanford University’s class of 2005.   Included were some of his thoughts about living and dying.  Mr. Job’s words were inspirational and here are a few paragraphs from his remarks:

When I was 17, I read a quote that went something like: “If you live each day as if it was your last, someday you’ll most certainly be right.” It made an impression on me, and since then, for the past 33 years, I have looked in the mirror every morning and asked myself: “If today were the last day of my life, would I want to do what I am about to do today?” And whenever the answer has been “No” for too many days in a row, I know I need to change something.

Remembering that I’ll be dead soon is the most important tool I’ve ever encountered to help me make the big choices in life. Because almost everything — all external expectations, all pride, all fear of embarrassment or failure – these things just fall away in the face of death, leaving only what is truly important. Remembering that you are going to die is the best way I know to avoid the trap of thinking you have something to lose. You are already naked. There is no reason not to follow your heart.

No one wants to die. Even people who want to go to heaven don’t want to die to get there. And yet death is the destination we all share. No one has ever escaped it. And that is as it should be, because Death is very likely the single best invention of Life. It is Life’s change agent. It clears out the old to make way for the new. Right now the new is you, but someday not too long from now, you will gradually become the old and be cleared away. Sorry to be so dramatic, but it is quite true.

Your time is limited, so don’t waste it living someone else’s life. Don’t be trapped by dogma — which is living with the results of other people’s thinking. Don’t let the noise of others’ opinions drown out your own inner voice. And most important; have the courage to follow your heart and intuition. They somehow already know what you truly want to become. Everything else is secondary.

When I was young, there was an amazing publication called The Whole Earth Catalog, which was one of the bibles of my generation. It was created by a fellow named Stewart Brand not far from here in Menlo Park, and he brought it to life with his poetic touch. This was in the late 1960’s, before personal computers and desktop publishing, so it was all made with typewriters, scissors, and Polaroid cameras. It was sort of like Google in paperback form, 35 years before Google came along: it was idealistic, and overflowing with neat tools and great notions.

Stewart and his team put out several issues of The Whole Earth Catalog, and then when it had run its course, they put out a final issue. It was the mid-1970s, and I was your age. On the back cover of their final issue was a photograph of an early morning country road, the kind you might find yourself hitchhiking on if you were so adventurous. Beneath it were the words: “Stay Hungry. Stay Foolish.” It was their farewell message as they signed off. Stay Hungry. Stay Foolish. And I have always wished that for myself. And now, as you graduate to begin anew, I wish that for you.

Watch the full speech here:  http://www.ted.com/talks/steve_jobs_how_to_live_before_you_die.html

Sitting here this morning three months past my fifty-eighth birthday, I am more aware of my eventual demise than ever before.  But my awareness of being alive is the most acute it has ever been too.  In contrast to the many years spent sleep-walking through the present toward an imagined future, today I do my very best to be truly alive and aware in the moments of my life.  Just one example is this blog.  For near half a year now I have gotten up around two hours earlier every day to have the time to write.  Why?  Because writing is something I always said I was going to do.  No longer will my awareness of the reality of life and death allow me to hesitate about doing more of what I promised myself I would do.  Previously I wrote about those dying most often having the largest regret for the things they did not do https://goodmorninggratitude.com/2011/08/27/five-biggest-regrets-before-dying/

Realizing the remainder of days for the “must-do’s” in my life becomes a reduced number with the passing of every day makes me more truly alive.  There is so much about living life well I still want to learn, but it is the knowing of that and applying myself to it which opens my heart, mind and soul to being more fully alive.  I am grateful for this state of being that places me here in this “now” with a joy for living.

Gaily I lived as ease and nature taught,
And spent my little life without a thought,
And am amazed that Death, that tyrant grim,
Should think of me, who never thought of him.
René Francois Regnier

The Door is Always Open

/ James Browning / 3 Comments

A frequent visitor to the Codependents Anonymous group I attend is a friend named Bill who often emails inspirational passages that make me stop and think.  Today he sent one that was just what I needed at the moment.  Today I am grateful for Bill sharing a piece called “The Door Is Always Open” by Jafree Ozwald.  Here is a paragraph that rang true for me:

You are free to leave this experience called suffering. You already have an out of jail pass. The golden key to opening this magical door is learning how to surrender to who you are.  This means you first let go of all your beliefs, judgments and ideas about who you think you are, and then see what is left.  You can move through any stuck, painful or imprisoned feeling that arises by dropping into a state of pure surrender.  You are either choosing the path of Ego or Surrender.  If you choose surrender, there is a deep experience within your being awaiting you.  It is only through this deep trusting state that you instantly get to see, feel and experience the Divine Being that you truly are.  

“Many of life’s circumstances are created by three basic choices: the disciplines you choose to keep, the people you choose to be with, and the laws you choose to obey.”  Charles Millhuff

Especially since the writing of this “Good Morning Gratitude” blog began, I have come to know that people at times have a different view of me than I have of myself.  That does not appear to come from others seeing some illusion I project to them.  Rather it seems to be the illusions I still at times project to myself.  However, that situation is getting better and the two ways of seeing me are becoming more parallel.  Whew!  What a relief.

When one starts consistently feeling “not good enough” as I was taught as a child the habit can become deeply engrained that by adulthood I could no longer see myself any other way.  That was a foggy path of many years spent trying to fix what was not broken or pretending to be other than I actually was.  Those were the decades of being alive, but not truly living.  I lived for others and as they wanted me to, always trying to fit in and be accepted.

No longer!  In moving to better acceptance of myself, I had to recognize I am a bit odd and generally do not fit into the mainstream.  I feel too much, express myself differently and have interests outside of a stereotype.  It feels good to have moved from consternation about that to gratefulness for my uniqueness.  Oh, some days it gets a little weird or hard to handle, but generally here in middle age I am grateful and glad to be me exactly as I am.

Back a while I mentioned a video of Dr. Brene Brown found on TED.com.  In it she makes the point that often our inability to show feelings is what keeps us from a great deal of possible happiness and contentment.  https://goodmorninggratitude.com/2011/06/01/t-e-d/

Dr. Brown’s research points to four traits of how contented people achieve their balance:
1.  They have courage.  It is in the willingness to tell their whole story, not just the one they think others desire of them.
2.  They have the compassion to be kind to themselves and to others.  It is interesting to note the order of that statement:  being kind to self comes first.
3.  They are able to have authentic connections to others having largely let go of who they thought they should be.  They are well acquainted with their true self.
4.  They embrace vulnerability.  This is willingness to say I love you first, to act without guarantees or invest in a relationship that may or may not work out.

Through noting those points I recommit to their ideals.  What began in earnest several years ago is being accelerated by throwing my self open upon the world in this blog.  I thank you for being my witness and taking a step with me in this journey by reading these thoughts today.  I am grateful for you!

It’s not what you look at that matters, it’s what you see. Henry David Thoreau

To Melt into the Sun

/ James Browning / 1 Comment

Last night I spent the evening and into the early morning with my best friend Mel who lost his father the night before.  His Dad was eighty-six and even with waning health, the passing was a surprise with its coming sooner than expected.  To a son, this father was ‘Superman’.  While I met this man only once I know him so very well through the stories I have been told.  Those stories are wonderful and told of a loving father by a loving son.  

It was an evening of tears and laugher mixed together by two old friends being wholly themselves during time shared that will not be forgotten.  

From the “Propher” by Kahlil Gibran 

You would know the secret of death. But how shall you find it unless you seek it in the heath of life? The owl whose night-bound eyes are blind unto the day cannot unveil the mystery of light. If you would indeed behold the spirit of death, open your heart wide unto the body of life. For life and death are one, even as the river and sea are one.

In the depth of your hopes and desires lies your silent knowledge of the beyond; and like seeds dreaming beneath the snow your heart dreams of spring. Trust the dreams, for in them is hidden the gate to eternity. 

Your fear of death is but the trembling of the shepherd when he stands before the king whose hand is to be laid upon him in honor. Is the shepherd not joyful beneath his trembling, that he shall wear the mark of the king? Yet is he not more mindful of his trembling?

For what is it to die but to stand naked in the wind and to melt into the sun? And what is it to cease breathing, but to free the breath from its restless tides that it may rise and expand and seek God unencumbered? 

Only when you drink from the river of silence shall you indeed sing. And when you have reached the mountain top, then you shall begin to climb. And when the earth shall claim your limbs, then shall you truly dance. 

“I Did Not Die” by Mary Elizabeth Frye

Do not stand at my grave and weep;
I am not there. I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow.
I am the diamond glints on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain;
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you awaken in the morning hush
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the soft stars at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry;
I am not there. I did not die.

I am grateful to have a good friend to who I get to be a good friend to.  Thankful is my feeling for all the times we have shared knowing always we are “there” for each other.  The more years that pass the more my gratefulness for our friendship grows.

When we honestly ask ourselves which people in our lives mean the most to us, we often find that it is those who, instead of giving advice, solutions, or cures, have chosen rather to share our pain and touch our wounds with a warm and tender hand.  The friend who can be silent with us in a moment of despair or confusion, who can stay with us in an hour of grief and bereavement, who can tolerate not knowing, not curing, not healing and face with us the reality of our powerlessness, that is a friend who cares. 
Henri Nouwen

Holding on for Dear Life

/ James Browning / 3 Comments

What a sinking feeling it was to realize I had lost my iPhone.   Being away on business yesterday, my morning in the hotel room was filled things to be grateful for like getting to sleep later than usual, room service breakfast in the room, leisurely having some time to write and catch up on news on the internet.  

My mood was fabulous as I checked out and met my two associates in the hotel lobby.  We drove to the airport, dropped off a rental car and said our goodbyes before heading to the gates for flights to our individual home cities.  A short while later just after making it through security I was putting things back into my pockets when I realized I did not have my phone.  Oh, crap!  Where could it be?  I frantically looked around the security area.  A helpful security agent ran my computer bag through the scanner again to see if I hide it from myself inside.  All the while my mind is bouncing around thinking about the loss of photos and data, the process of setting up a new phone and all the numbers not included in a backup made months before. 

Slowly logic and reason returned as I focused myself on the mystery of my missing iPhone.  I was able to remember entering a phone number on the way to the airport and began to think through where I might have lost it.  Did I leave my phone at the kiosk when I was checking in?  Did I put it down on some airport seating where I stopped to clean out my pockets just before security?  

Mentally working back to where I knew I last had my phone, I hurriedly reversed direction.  Walking as fast as I could out of the security area and down the concourse I soon was outside the airport and walking up to the rental car return area.  I asked if an iPhone had been found and the young woman who had checked the car in quickly went to ask the clean up crew.  I convinced myself I was going to have to get a new phone upon arriving home.   I was lost in thought about which one I was going to get when the rental car agent came running toward me, smiling and waving my phone in the air.  Being a sweating mess from hauling butt through the airport was quickly forgotten as the happiness about my found phone overtook me.  As I walked back into the airport I was felt blessed and lucky and made a mental note to keep closer tabs on my phone! 

On boarding my flight a short while later I found my seat was in the very last row of a completely full airplane.  My assigned aisle seat was next to a young woman who appeared to be in her early to mid twenties.  She was a tiny little thing and looked to be about five feet tall at best.  As the man in the window seat made conversation with her I focused on my book, but noticed she spoke with accented, but good English.  As the plane taxied to the runway she got her Walkman ready.  Once in the air the young woman disappeared with closed eyes into her music whose beat I could hear faintly.  She squirmed a bit and seemed to have difficulty getting comfortable for the next hour and a half.  A while later I found out why. 

Two hundred miles from Denver the pilot announced very high winds were limiting the number of runways in use at theDenverairport.  He said our arrival would be delayed and the last part of our ride was going to be very bumpy.  Soon the turbulence got worse and worse and in our holding pattern it was as bad as I ever remember.  The young woman beside me was very scared and getting more agitated with each big shimmy and bounce of the airplane.  The 30-something buy in the window seat was talking and trying to calm her, but her fear was growing fast as beads of sweat began to run down her face.  On her face was pure fear. 

The first I spoke to the young woman was to tell her that everything would be OK, that I was a small plane pilot who had lived and flown in the Denver area.  I had encountered turbulence like this before in my plane (even though 25 years earlier, that was true).  I told her I knew from experience that what was occurring was uncomfortable, but we were safe.  On one particularly rough bump she grabbed my left hand and gripped it tightly with her right hand.  She was holding on for dear life and did not let go until after we had landed.  For 20 minutes not only was she gripping my hand with her right, but her left hand was holding on tightly to my arm as she leaned against me.  From time to time I continued to talk to calm her, saying everything was going to be fine.  Just as we landed the plane bounced around quite a bit and I though she was going to break my hand her grip was so tight.

There is not a time I can remember encountering someone more fearful that this young woman was.  Only when we were on the ground did she began to talk to me.  She was so grateful to me and was gushing with gratitude.  She kept apologizing that flying scared her so much and thanking me for helping her.  I learned her name was Gabriella and she was from a country that was formerly a part of the USSR.  With her accented but very well spoken English we made conversation as we taxied.  She told me she was a Master’s Degree student headed to Chicago to see a friend (a boyfriend I think).  Her flight connection was tight and others like her were allowed off the plane first.  We hurriedly said our goodbyes and in just a matter of moments another “temporary friend” was lost into the sea of humanity.  

As I walked up the jet-way I was struck by how much helping another enriches one’s life.  For the rest of my trip it seemed everyone was nicer than usual to me, yet I know it was largely my frame of mind being reflected back to me.  I felt joyful and the sense of it continues within today.  It began with finding my phone when I was certain it was permanently lost and continued with helping a frightened young woman.  I doubt either of us will ever forget the other for the rest of our days. 

What I experienced yesterday were little things certainly, but the type of happenings that enhance life and give it little splashes of color that make living worthwhile.  I am thankful for the experiences, but to an even greater degree I am grateful for the awareness that allows me to notice such abundant richness in my life.     

For today and its blessings, I owe the world an attitude of gratitude.  Unknown

Want of Truth or Accuracy

/ James Browning / 1 Comment

There’s a saying that goes “If you say you’ve never lied, you are a liar”.  Even if one does so for what he or she thinks is a justifiable reason, a lie is still a lie.  Everyone lies sometime. Some lie because they think they have to cover another lie.  Others lie because it is a habit. Still others lie because it has been a way of being for so long, they believe their lies.  

Definition of “lie”:  a falsehood; want of truth or accuracy; an untrue assertion or representation; error; misrepresentation; falsity; treachery; deceit; unfaithfulness.

In an article about dating in “The Scientific Fundamentalist” Staoshi Kanazawa wrote:  Both men and women lie, but they lie about different (and predictable) things.  …men tend to lie about their earnings and their height.  …women tend to lie about their age and their weight.

Men typically lie upwards and women typically lie downwards.  Men pretend that they make more money than they actually do; they pretend that they are taller than they actually are, and they pretend that they have had more sexual partners than they actually have.  In contrast, women pretend that they are younger than they actually are; they pretend that they are lighter than they actually are (weigh less), and they pretend that they have had fewer sexual partners than they actually have.

In other words, women lie and pretend to be what they used to be before in the past, whereas men lie and pretend to be what they will be in the future (or what they hope to become in an alternate universe or in their fantasy).

In admission of not being immune from telling an untruth or bending a fact I began to think sometimes I have told a “fib” rather than a lie.  With the belief the former is not as large an indiscretion as the latter; I looked up the definition of fib and found it defined as:  a relatively insignificant, small, trivial or childish lie; a minor falsehood. 

It is within the “fib” area that I am guilty even now of telling untruths here and there.  When asked how I like someone’s new hairdo that I have a first impression of as “ugly” I try to say something like “it’s very interesting” or “that’s a unique color”.  Such comments are truthful but not offensive.  If such a statement does not satisfy the person questioning and they press with “but do you like”, my response is usually “yes, it’s cool” or “it looks good on you”.  That’s a fib, the soft rating for a lie, but saves me hurting a person’s feelings.  Generally I believe this is acceptable behavior and a light shade within an area of gray. 

Digging deeper there are certainly unquestionable lies I told which ultimately only came to a bad end.  It is no surprise to anyone that once the lying begins, more lies have to be told to cover the original falsehood.  And the spiral grows.  

There is confidence within there are liars who have no conscience about their deception.  I have never been one of them.  In covering up for an affair while married and lying to my wife, each and every lie was an additional weight inside.  Each added amount of falsity tipped my internal scales further and further to the side of self-loathing. Each lie caused me to like myself less and less until I generally despised who I had become. 

To make matters worse, I cheated on both my wives.  That behavior can be explained by my mental state at the time resulting from childhood emotional scaring, etc., but in no way, shape or form can such explanation ever be justification.  A lie is a lie, no matter the motivation.  What is wrong is wrong.  

Unfaithfulness is a lie within itself; one of the most terrible forms of lying.  Further, the deceit of telling untruths to cover being unfaithful only builds the fire of treachery higher and brighter.  In time it is the liar that is usually burned in the flames of lying with the heat damaging others with its heat. 

In recent years, I have come to see old behavior so much more clearly.  Things are different now.  Today my life is lived with belief and intention in the closest harmony ever with thought and deed.  As Mark Twain said; a man is never more truthful than when he acknowledges himself a liar.  By doing that even to the point of today’s admission here I am able to have the most pride about myself I have ever known.  While the road to ‘now’ has been rocky and difficult, I am happy to be who I am today and grateful for the grace and help of others that brought me here.      

Oh what a tangled web we weave,
When first we practice to deceive!
Sir Walter Scott

Today Could Be…

/ James Browning / 2 Comments

Memo
To: You
From: The Universe
RE: Another day of your life
 
Dear Earthling,
 
Today is an entirely new chapter of your life filled with possibility.  Do you realize that?  Do you really?
 
Do you understand that today could be the last day you stop doing whatever it is you want to stop doing or the first day to break the habit you wish to break? 
 
Do you understand that today could be the day you begin to get into better shape, begin to take walks or be true to yourself with improving the physical condition you’re in?
 
Do you understand today could be the day you apologize to someone or make peace with another person the way you know you should?
 
Do you understand today could be the day you make that call you have been putting off to your brother/sister/mother/father/friend and tell them about what is going on in your life?
 
Do you realize today could be the day that you begin to finally lose weight one pound at a time and continue to lose it?
 
Do you realize that today could be the day you open up your heart so someone can love you and you can love them in return?

Do you realize that today could be the day you make the choice to change the direction of your work life and begin moving in that direction?
 
Do you realize that today could be the day you start giving back consistently to those less fortunate who need your help?
 
Do you realize that today is the day you could begin true forgiveness of your wife/husband/family member/friend?
 
Do you realize that today is the day you could begin to openly express your love to ALL those you care about?
 
Do you realize this could be the day you give up excuses for waiting and finding reasons not to do what it is you know you need to do?
 
Do you realize……  Are you paying attention? Do you realize that today is the first day of the rest of your life?  It can be any day.  Why not today?
 
Sincerely, 
The Universe

Today Is The Very First Day Of The Rest Of My Life

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 for good,
But 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,
Leaving in its place
something that I have traded for it.
I want it to be gain,
and not loss;
Good and not evil;
success and not failure;
In order that I shall not regret
the price I have paid for it.
I will try just for today,
for you never fail until you stop trying.

While I don’t anticipate today will be a life changer for me, it could be.  The possibility is certain.  What I do with this day is mine to decide. While there is no certainty of my fate, my freedom of choice affects my destiny more than any other factor here on this Earth.  I am grateful to know that as long as I live the possibilities of my life are near unlimited.  I open myself a little wider today to the realization that more than any other factor if it is to be it is up to me!  I am grateful for the reminder!

For a long time it had seemed to me that life was about to begin – real life.  But there was always some obstacle in the way.  Something to be got through first, some unfinished business, time still to be served, a debt to be paid.  Then life would begin.  At last it dawned on me that these obstacles were my life.  Fr. Alfred D’Souza