People

Nicest Things You Can Have

/ James Browning / 1 Comment

Fresh out of bed while making coffee I decided today’s blog would be about gratitude for simple things.  In my mind was thankfulness for small, relatively insignificant and usually overlooked reasons to be grateful.  In my thoughts was stuff like the sweet taste of strawberry ice cream and how good velvet feels to touch or the smell of wisteria in bloom and smiling at old people and seeing them smile back.

As is my routine in the morning, I come to the computer to begin to check email while the coffee is brewing.  My habit was unchanged today, but checking email turned out to be a moving experience.  First I was humbled beyond words when the one in my heart wrote you are an inspiration for the determination and strength with which you face and conquer your challenges at work and in life, never forgetting to also show and spread kindness.

Living in such a manner is my everyday ambition, but in the desiring and doing I rarely notice if achievement happens.  Rather my state of being is mostly in the doing of the moment while hesitant to look at what I have just done fearing I will dwell on some imperfection or failure that might manifest.  It was pleasantly startling to read what my love had written to me.  My first thought was “does she not know what an inspiration to others she is?”

As I returned from the kitchen with my first cup of coffee, three other emails awaited me.  One from an old friend of 25+ years.  Roger lives in Denver and wrote telling me about the ten inches of snow on the ground there and it was still coming down.  In contrast I wrote him about the 60’s in January we are enjoying just 700 miles away.  He and I exchange a short email of a line or so every single day and have for years.  Beginning each morning with word from Roger has become a depended upon and important part of my morning.

The third email came from a self-help group friend who has a special way of expressing himself.  He calls himself “Still Bill” at the meetings and has a way of touching me deeply with what he has to say.  This quote from J. Krishnamurti’s “The Book of Life” filled the email he sent last night:

Self-knowledge comes into being when we are aware of ourselves in relationship… Relationship is a mirror in which to see ourselves as we actually are. But most of us are incapable of looking at ourselves as we are in relationship, because we immediately begin to condemn or justify what we see. We judge, we evaluate, we compare, we deny or accept, but we never observe actually what is, and for most people this seems to be the most difficult thing to do; yet this alone is the beginning of self-knowledge. Thanks Bill.  Through knowing you I have a little clearer view of myself.
 
Then the fourth email took up the most time this morning.  The note was from Cindy, a cherished friend of many years who sent along a link to a video by now eleven year-old singer Jackie Evancho.  I had seen a performance of hers on youtube.com before and was blown away then that such a voice could emanate from just a little girl.

By the time I became aware of Jackie Evamcho she had already been the best-selling debut artist of 2010 and the youngest top-10 debut artist in history.  The first time I saw her sing online was just about the time Billboard ranked her the top Classical Albums Artist for 2011.  On November 7, 2011, Jackie became the youngest person ever to give a solo concert at Lincoln Center in New York.  She will be twelve years old in April.

I ended up sitting at my desk this morning sipping coffee with filling gratitude that I have wonderful people who care about me and show it.  When I clicked on the link in the fourth email and Jackie Evancho began to sing, pure tears of joy ran down my face.  What a wonderful way to start my day:  Some dear to be close in spirit and in my heart with a little “angel” singing to me.  I am deeply grateful.

A friend is one of the nicest things you can have, and one of the best things you can be.
Douglas Pagels

See, hear and learn about Jackie Evancho:

(early moments)

(Interview with David Foster and Jackie)

(singing a song her uncle wrote)

(singing “Angel”, a personal favorite and theme song of sorts for my life)

Between Now and the Next Midnight

/ James Browning / 1 Comment

How will today be different from the one before and the one before that?  Will it be unique because of what I experience outside of me?  Or will this new day be made distinctive due to what is felt inside?  Somewhere between work, sleep, responsibility and interaction with others will there be inspiration to make this day highly memorable? Will today bring something I will always remember, or will it fade unremarkably into another page in the over 20,000 pages of my life so far?

As those questions ping-pong around mentally as I write them, a silent voice says to me “that’s up to you”.  Whether what I hear noiselessly is simply me speaking my own thought or is that four word answer from somewhere beyond my knowing is of no consequence.  All I need do is openly accept what happens today is more up to me than any other force on this Earth.

In the last nine months I have discovered taking the time to mentally and emotionally mark the start of a new day makes every one better.  Instead of free-falling into another date on the calendar without intention or direction of my own choosing as was long my habit, now I come here to kick-start another morning.  Sitting here writing, watching out my office window as the night turns into day and really noticing what I see is a slow miracle I used to miss completely.

From sitting in one spot for an hour or so while looking up now and then the seasons come noticed by a greater awareness.  The subtlety of changes in the cypress tree in the yard are obvious now.  Today that tree is gray and seems to be hanging its limbs down as it rests and builds energy to burst forward with green as I know it will begin to do in six weeks.

From my vantage point I can see daffodil shoots that have popped through the ground early this year. It is only early February!  The winter has been warm and those flowering harbingers of spring seem to think the days of April are already upon us.  Will they make it until Spring undamaged?  Will I be outside covering them with mulch to protect them from real winter that finally arrives?  With my heightened awareness I know those questions will be answered all in good time.  For now I am content to enjoy what is, just as it is.

Each morning comes bearing a new gift of renewal, redemption and another chance to start all over again.  Life does not go on and on and on forever for anyone.  It begins and ends.  Of that reality I become more aware of as I move closer toward my days of old age.  I do not fear them really, although I do have apprehension about death.  It is not trepidation about what happens after I expire or worries of a spiritual nature.  Rather, it is anxiousness toward the process of moving away from breathing and physical awareness that is worrisome to me in varying increments and at varied times.  That’s OK life should have its mystery and intrigue.  Again, I accept what is, just as it is.

Today I write my thoughts not to push some personal dread upon the world, but rather to wave the flag of life.  It is a reminder that I am here for only a time and like all other days my chance at life in this one will pass.  More than ever I want to make my days count for something.  Small or large, my hope is to leave the world better for having been here.  The thought of a life filled only with consuming, taking up space and contributing waste is not something I allow myself any longer.  Once upon a time, certainly that was true of me.  I was a “taker” of all I could get, thinking grabbing then would offset the long before shortages of youth.  Now it is clear to me, life is far from best when lived in that manner.

No doubt I will be imperfect today.  I will make mistakes.  Scoring the quantity of my missteps is of little use.  Instead keeping a tally or at least noticing what good has been done is what matters.  What will I do today that improves life even if for just one person?

Will it be the smile and “good morning” I speak to some overly solemn person on an elevator?  Will it be the person I let cut in front of me in the backed up traffic?  Will it be the email sent to a friend that arrives with a caring word just when they need it?  Will it be the “good job” or word of support I might give a coworker?  Will someone reading what I have cast into the world here via the Internet get a positive thought which changes the mood of their day for the better?  Or will I be called on to do something rare and miraculous that saves a life or inspires another to?

Only living out my day will answer those questions.  My awareness and desire to make today count will power me through the hours between now and the next midnight.  I am deeply grateful for lungs that breathe, a heart that pumps and a mind that thinks that allows me to be awake and aware on another morning.  It is my intention to practice something I speak often:  “Have a great day and make it count”! 

“The Guest House” by Rumi
This being human is a guest house.
Every morning a new arrival.
A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes
As an unexpected visitor.
Welcome and entertain them all!
Even if they’re a crowd of sorrows,
who violently sweep your house
empty of its furniture,
still treat each guest honorably.
He may be clearing you out
for some new delight.
The dark thought, the shame, the malice,
meet them at the door laughing,
and invite them in.
Be grateful for whoever comes,
because each has been sent
as a guide from beyond.

A Do-It-Yourself Blog

/ James Browning

Here today are few words and collage of photos intended for the do-it-yourselfer.  Take in the three word definitions and the photos of people.  Then spend a few moments with reflecting on them.  You are almost guaranteed to feel better!  

Happiness:   good fortune,  prosperity, a state of well-being and contentment, a pleasurable or satisfying experience, a mental state of well-being

Joy:  a deep feeling of happiness or contentment, outward show of pleasure or delight; rejoicing, well-being, success, or good fortune

Bliss:  immense happiness; serene joy, the ecstatic joy of near heaven, serenely joyful or glad, supreme happiness; utter joy or contentment, euphoria

Joy, Bliss and Happiness are catching!  I am very grateful for how good putting this together left me feeling!

If you want to be happy, be.
Leo Tolstoy

An Uncontrollable Force

/ James Browning / 1 Comment

Falling in love has always seemed to me as something out of my control.  The feeling is one of being swept away without choice or explanation on an unpredictable journey taken toward some unknown destination.  It is near like catching some wonderful virus for which there may be no cure.  Or it may be the sort of phenomenon that like a cold, comes on fast and hard, but passes on given time.  At the onset it is impossible to know how temporary or long-term what has been “caught” might be.

There are those who say romantic love as we know it today can be tracked back to French troubadours of the Middle Ages.  They were traveling entertainers who recited poems, put on plays and performed the popular songs of the time.  Apparently their audiences especially liked romantic tales and songs. Like any good entertainers, they gave their spectators what they wanted and refined and spread the emotional game of love through their performances.

The French Troubadours had no way of knowing the traditions they first brought to human consciousness would become the roots of what we today think of in popular culture as romantic love.  Before the dark ages, some likely experienced the larger-than-life feelings akin to what we now call romance.  However, the sudden, out of no where eruptions of sentiment and attraction did not begin to be the wide-spread passion of the masses until the Middle Ages.

It had been said falling in love is a sort of insanity or at least an altered state of consciousness. It can feel like the heart has been taken over by an uncontrollable force.  When falling in love, everything seems wonderful; most breathtaking of all is the person one is falling for. The sensation is like being pulled by a seemingly spontaneous reaction into a beautiful storm of uncontrollable and overwhelming attraction and desire.

Romantic love is often described as completely blind and brings a time when a person loses most sense of logic or some say, a time of insanity.  Psychology says we are actually responding not only to natures desire to continue our species but also to our own internal fantasies that have been created within by romantic traditions.  A yearning for a dream lover can cause pent-up hopes, desires and fantasies to be aimed toward an unsuspecting person.  Science maintains this is not love itself, but instead mostly about being in love with love.

Psychologists have shown it takes between 90 seconds and 4 minutes to decide if you fancy someone.  Research has shown this has little to do with what is said, rather 55% is through body language, 38% is the tone and speed of their voice and only 7% is through what they say.  Kind of takes the romance out of it doesn’t it!

I began to fall in love about six months ago with a wonderful woman.  What is shared has proven not to be the temporary transient sort.  Enough time has passed that the initial insanity has mellowed as emotions have deepened.  If I am to a large degree yielding to traditions started almost a thousand years so, so be it.  If my experience is not atypical and instead just run of the mill, ordinary sentiment and emotion, that’s ok.  It matters not to me if it was mostly her body language and voice that have captured my attention.

I only know “what is, is”.  What “is” within feels genuine and real.  I honestly don’t care where it comes from.  I only care that it is!  I will not concern myself with where love comes from or where it may take me.  Instead for the first time in my life I am content to simply live each day with love within and allow that to be enough.  I don’t have to worry if “this will work out”.  Today, it already works!

I long thought my ability to love was worn out and my heart was too fatigued to ever know love again. This is just one of many times I end up happy with thankfulness for being wrong.

Four thoughts about love from Albert Einstein

Gravitation is not responsible for people falling in love.

Few are those who see with their own eyes and feel with their own hearts.

Life isn’t worth living, unless it is lived for someone else.

Any man who can drive safely while kissing a pretty girl is simply not giving the kiss the attention it deserves.

Don’t Be Bad

/ James Browning

Never have I been arrested.  Even being pulled over by a traffic cop makes me nervous.  Telling a story over lunch to someone recently caused a connection to be made to why I am over the top respectful of police and laws.

I was five or six years old.  It was Sunday when my Father, Mother, Brother and I went to visit my Mom’s first cousin, Dan, in an Alabama prison.  He was serving time for being caught repeatedly making and selling moonshine on a fairly ambitious scale.  On the Sabbath family members were allowed to visit and we had brought “dinner” as the meal is called down south (I grew up hearing lunch called “dinner” and dinner being called “supper”). 

As we walked from the parking lot up to the prison, the first striking memory is of a tall round tower on the perimeter of the facility.  From about three stories up through a window the guard there lowered a bucket on a rope into which visitors had to leave their keys to be kept during the visit.  For many years I thought the reason was so an inmate could not get loose and escape in a car he had keys to.  The realization came later the keys were temporarily confiscated to keep them from falling into the hands of a convict who might use the metal to made a pointed or sharp weapon.  

Once inside the prison the sound I recall most vividly is the slam the sliding jail gates made.  These moved like glass sliding doors from left to right.  The noise of them being banged shut was even louder and echoed with greater resonance than in any movie I have seen.  The deep closing clatter made the shutting feel so permanent and left a deep impression on me. 

The area I recall most clearly was fenced in outside with picnic tables. Here is where we spent our time visiting the inmate cousin.  “Dan” was glad to see familar faces from the outside and get something good to eat other than the prison food.  The adults talked for the two hours or so, catching the cousin up on family news.  My little brother fell asleep and was put on a quilt in the shade under the picnic table.  I sat mesmerized watching everyone in the prison yard and to this day can close my eyes and see a “movie in my head” of that experience.

From time to time an inmate would come by our table showing off leather goods he had made.  Wallets, a comb and case, key chains and even purses that were hand-made by the inmates was a way to make a little cash.

The yard containing the picnic area had a very high chain link fence topped off by several strands of barbed wire on inwardly angled posts.  The fence seemed impossible to climb and get over.  Clearly I remember feeling caught and shut up knowing the only way out was to be let out.  

The inmates did not wear orange prison clothing or white tops and bottoms with prisoner numbers on the back like in the movies.  Maybe they did on other days, but on that Sunday it was blue jeans and white t-shirts.  Recalling now that all the prisoners were dressed that way I assume that was the “Sunday best” that was provided to them.

There is also the story of when my Mother’s cousin, Dan, was arrested for the offenses that sent him to prison.  He lived in the country only a few hundred yards from my grandparents place where we were visiting at the time.  I witnessed for several hours all the police cars, flashing lights and law enforcement with guns while he held up inside with his wife and kids.  Clearly I remember overhearing someone comment that Dan said he was not going to be taken alive.    

After a few hours my Father who was a friend was allowed to get close to the house to talk Dan into giving himself up.  Then Dad followed the police car the dozen miles or so to the county jail because Dan was afraid of the police I overheard the adults say later.  Apparently, the fear was well founded for when my Father returned from getting cigarettes for him, he found Dan bruised and bloodied in his jail cell.  

What is written about here happened sometime just before I started first grade.  Nothing I witnessed was ever explained to me by an adult in any way.  The observations and conclusions that made such an impressions on me were all those from a child’s interpretation.  The message was simple:  Don’t be ‘bad’ or you’ll end up like Dan.  

There is gratitude for “the fear of God” that what I encountered at such a young age put into me.  Overall the effect has been positive as I have stayed on the straight and narrow my entire life.  My worst offenses have been traffic tickets.  I am grateful for this classroom called my life that has always taught meaningful lessons if only I paid attention.  For this one, I got at A+!.

One of irony’s greatest accomplishments is that one cannot punish the wrongdoing of another without committing a wrongdoing himself.  Anonymous

A Man Who Tried to Live Well

/ James Browning

Today is not just another day, it is the third Monday of January, 2012 and a holiday when the birth of an American iconic figure is celebrated.  If Martin Luther King, Jr. were still living he would have been eight-three yesterday.  

Growing up in the deep-south in Alabama I remember the adults around me had a mixed bag of feelings regarding Dr. King.  Most of all I saw fear behind what was said.  I was too young to fully grasp what was going on, but Dr. King impressed me in his ability to express himself and inspire people.  As a child I did not have to comprehend everything he talked about to be moved by his speeches. Such passion and good intention was easy to comprehend even for a youngster.

When Rosa Parks refused to give up her seat I was not two years old yet.  By the march on Washington I was ten.  In 1967 when Martin Luther King came out against the war in Vietnam I was two years into my teens.  It was then Dr. King’s position on an issue matched exactly something very personal to me:  opposition to the war.  Never was I against the soldiers and have always maintained great respect for those who served.  Rather it was the politicians’ attitude of conducting a “police action” that even a fourteen year-old could figure out was wrong. 

Today I still lament the great amount of death, injury and harm that was caused by the Vietnam War that served not one single positive purpose that I know of.  It was Martin Luther King, Jr. who taught me it is OK to stand for something, even when that stance is not popular with a lot of people.  I will always be grateful for what I learned from him about trying to do good and make a difference in this world.  

Many will write today about the life, politics, beliefs and principles of Dr. Martin Luther King.  I choose instead to offer a simple homage to him as a man who tried to live well.  I am confident Dr. King would have enjoyed these two poems and the thought by a close associate of his that ends this blog today.   

“A Daily Inventory” by Mildred Bettag
Did I stop to smell the flowers,
And appreciate the small things along the way
Did I look for the good in people,
That I met along the way?
Did I see the beauty in God’s creation,
As in the thing created by man,
Did I count each day the blessings,
In my life since it began?
Did I listen with caring and compassion,
And walk in another’s shoes,
Did I offer a shoulder to lean on,
Did I practice the Golden Rule?
Did I kill my anger in its early stages
Before it had time to sprout,
And grow to its full maturity,
Where love is crowded out?
Did I blindfold my eyes from Life’s sunshine,
To avoid the pain that comes from Life’s nights,
To only live in the ugliness of darkness,
Never to see the beauty of morning’s light?
Did I let my heart seek vision and purpose,
When I was lonely and filled with fear,
Did I stop and ask God for directions,
Did I give hurt time-out for tears?
Did I practice the words “I’m Sorry”,
And try to correct wrongs to make them right,
Did I forgive the ones who’ve hurt me,
Before I fall asleep at night? 

“Clock of Life” by Wilfred Grindle Conary
The clock of life is wound but once
And no man has the power
To tell just when the hands will stop,
At late or early hour.
Now is the only time that you own.
You must live, love, and work with a will.
Place no faith in tomorrow;
For the clock may then be still.

It must be borne in mind that the tragedy of life doesn’t lie in not reaching your goal. It lies in having no goal to reach. It is not a calamity to die with dreams unfulfilled, but it is a calamity not to dream. It is not a disgrace not to reach the stars, but it is a disgrace not to have any stars to reach. Not failure, but low aim, is the real sin. Benjamin Elijah Mays

Martin Luther King, Jr.
January 15, 1929 – April 4, 1968
“Rest in Peace”

Song in Your Heart

/ James Browning / 2 Comments

From “Give Me Roses” by Marvin L. Cartee

If I am due but one little rose
While living upon this earth,
Let it be given while I’m still alive,
As a token of what I’m worth.

Give me my roses while I’m still alive,
Don’t sit there and hold them and wait,
Don’t wait until the day I am gone
Because then it’s a little too late.

If you love someone don’t hesitate
To tell them you love them today.
Don’t put it all off for tomorrow
‘Cause tomorrow may have passed away.

So if I am due one little rose,
While traveling along life’s highway,
Don’t hold onto that flower too long,
Please give me my roses today.

Dear ________,

I have been unsuccessful in fully expressing how much of a difference you make in my life. The scope of what is inside is difficult to form into words, but I will try anyway. In written form I have put down here at least a little of what I want you to know.

Thank you for being kind to me and noticing when I just need someone to listen. When I have no wish for approval of my feelings, but just need to be heard you always pay close attention to what I had to say. You honor me with that kindness and often help me often bear what you or even I do not understand.

All too aware I am of my shortcomings and faults. Certainly you must see them too, yet you rarely acknowledge them and chose instead to see the good in me. You have always seen more than I have ever believed about myself and tell me so. Never will I see me as you do, but my view of self is far better than it ever could have been without you.

Together with you over time I have learned the joy of doing nothing. Just being together gave hours great value and there was nothing we had to do to make it so. I learned with you that wasting time with a friend is one of the most meaningful ways to cash in minutes of my life.

You have always given me good advice although I have not always followed it. At all times you have my best interest in mind and no other intention. I thank you for your counsel and for never trying to push it on me.

Never was I able to openly express my love of someone as a friend until our friendship. I learned how to hug each time I see you and again when we part. Never was that something I could do before, but through you such expression of affection has become natural and easy with all that I care about.

You have been kind to me when I was not being so to you.
You have been patient with me when my patience was gone.
You have helped me without questioning or without even being asked.
You have been there for me when I needed you to, but could not ask.
You have been my friend even when you did not like what I was doing or saying.
You have never made a practice of saying “I told you so’ although there have been many times you could have.
I have deep admiration your honesty and directness.
I have great respect for your power to think beyond what others see.
I marvel at your ability to express your feelings to others.
I think a lot of your multiple talents and how you put them to good use.
I marvel at how you are kind and never rude, even to those who are to you.
I have high regard for your beliefs and practice of them.
I am often astonished at how much you love and am loved by your family and friends and how those feelings are openly expressed.
I appreciate you just as you are: once single measure of flaws and imperfection and a hundred measures of quality and character.

I am privileged to have you as my friend. I am fortunate to be yours. Without hesitation or reservation, I love you clearly and freely as only a true friend can love another. Thank you for being in my life.

A friend is someone who knows the song in your heart and can sing it back to you when you have forgotten the words.
Bernard Meltzer

Not Everyone is Meant to Stay

/ James Browning / 4 Comments

Sometimes you have to give up on people. Everyone that is in your journey is meant to be in your journey, but not everyone is meant to stay there. 
Anonymous

Deep down inside me is a strong wish to have grasped the meaning of that statement long before understanding came.  Previously my long-term theory of living was simply if I love someone, somehow, someway it was going to work out.  Otherwise, why would love have found me if not for an intention of becoming something lasting?  

Such a view was one of a child carried into adult hood; a child not loved enough hidden inside an adult who grabbed at any scrap of affection that came his way.  The need to be adored was irresistible.  It did not matter that what I perceived was not genuine or what another expressed to me was feigned, disposable or temporary.  So eager for love, my heart openly accepted what it identified as affection from whatever source it came.  So hungry to be noticed and appreciated, I became involved with almost any woman who showed interest in me.  

With time I came to know that frequently people love what is not good for them.  An alcoholic loves a drink.  A drug addict loves a fix.  A gambler loves risking every dime.  An adrenaline junky loves the rush of risking life.  And so on it goes when there is emptiness on the inside that one tries to fill from outside the self.  With women I either loved ones too much who were not good for me or else did not love enough those who were.    

In more youthful years I claimed to date ‘crazy bitches’ because they were more fascinating and exciting.  In more mature years now, the realization is clear that ‘like attracts like’.  It was only because I was ‘just as crazy’ that my attraction was so strong to such women.  More thrills and spills than a roller coaster ride , but like any amusement, such extreme relationships eventually got old.  They exhausted me.  

There is this notion within those similar to me who have spent much of their lives feeling “less than” that if we can save another person they will in turn save us. Rarely does it work because such a scenario is an attempt to get esteem from outside one’s self instead of nurturing it internally.  A person then becomes a sort of emotional vampire, always on the hurt to ‘feed” on another’s feelings but sated each time only for a while.  One can only save them self from the inside out and no one else can do the work.  No amount of basking in another’s emotions made me better.  No amount of trying to be a ‘savior of women’ actually saved anyone.  In reality the attempts usually caused me (and those I was involved with) to be worse off emotionally than before we knew each other. 

Once upon a time nothing pleased me for long.  Whatever I achieved seemed hollow quickly.  Whoever I was involved with in time felt too imperfect.  Never was there contentment for long with what was in front of me.  I always either wanted more or continually asked myself if there was more.  More money, more sleep, more success, more sex, more time, more attention, more love.  Enough was never enough. 

My insecurities caused me to attempt to collect love by alway trying to hold on in some way to every woman I was ever involved with.  Whether maintaining some occasional contact, keeping mementos and photos stashed away in a box or keeping thoughts of them alive, I held on.  There was no questioning if this was healthy.  Constantly my ego yelled “you’re not good enough” through a screaming bullhorn in my brain.  The only way to quiet the noise even temporarily was to allow myself to be filled with the thrills of someone new.  

To actually see my own life clearly and become grateful for all that led me to this here and now took aligning myself with some measure of peace and truth. To learn to look at my present circumstances through gentle, kind and loving eyes required years to learn.  Even longer was needed to realize I was living a wonderful destiny that was uniquely mine.  

Peace is loving what is…what exists now in this moment here.  In her book “Loving What Is” Byron Katie wrote the only time we suffer is when we believe a thought that argues with what is. When the mind is perfectly clear, what is, is what we want. If you want reality to be different than it is, you might as well try to teach a cat to bark. You can try and try, and in the end the cat will look up at you and say, “Meow.” Wanting reality to be different than it is, is hopeless. 

So here I am in late middle age with all my flaws, scars, and blemishes but wiser and happier than I have ever been. Getting here took establishing good boundaries for myself and others.  I had to let go of a lot of things and people:  my Mother, two ex-wives, several friends, a handful of ex-lovers and girlfriends, a comfy long-term job, the big house, over half my savings and more.  Only through the letting go was therespace in my life for what I truly needed.  My gratefulness to be in this here and now is beyond my command of written language to express fully.  So I will just say “thank you” with sincere thankfulness. 

No one can give you freedom but you.
Byron Katie

1,000 Things You Don’t Know About Women

/ James Browning / 5 Comments

Almost exactly six months ago Esquire magazine published an articled on their website titled “1,000 Things You Don’t Know About Women”.  Last night I stumbled across it while doing some on-line research on another topic.  The description of the article on the website was: “We asked the women in our lives to share their secrets about sex, relationships, and what we’ve been doing wrong (and right) all these years. Four months after our special issue devoted to women — and with continuing help from you on Twitter —  we’ve reached a thousand pieces of wisdom.”

Most of the thousand comments hit me as interesting, even fascinating, certainly educational and at times humorous, while insightful.  I am appreciative of the women who responded so candidly.  Most remarks were reminders of what five decades of paying attention to the opposite sex has taught me, although it was helpful being prompted to practice consistently what I know.  

Some of the comments women were enlightening.  One I will remember always is how to answer the proverbial question:  “Does this dress make me look fat”.

No. 340: If that piece of clothing does indeed make us look fat, simply say, “It’s nice, but you don’t look comfortable in it.” Most of the time, it’s true. —Nicole Lee, 31, San Francisco

Another comment was a cue for men to remember to tell women we love how attractive they are to us, no matter how long we’ve been together.

No. 77: We want you to think we are pretty. Every now and then, when we get all fixed up, act for a minute like we make it hard for you to breathe. — Shannon Purvis, 45, Novato, California

I learned the hard way, that secrets almost always become known eventually and secrets are poison that given time harm or kill a loving relationship.  

No. 592: If you don’t want to tell us something, you probably should. We might find out from someone else, and that won’t be good. — Jenna Alice Loerop, 21, Chicago

Frequently I have tried to understand exactly where a woman I cared about was coming from when all I had to do was pay attention.  On that subject, here is good advice from the Esquire “1,000 Things You Don’t Know About Women”.

No. 518: Sometimes we don’t need you to solve the problem; we just want you to listen. — Nicole Semonis, 22, Encinitas, California

No. 940: Four words that will turn away our wrath: “How can I help?” —Judith Brodnicki, 50, Omaha

It is not unusual for men to forgot to treat the woman they love as well we once did (women do this do too by the way, so reversing the gender in the comment also makes sense).      

No. 23 We want you to never stop hunting us. Even if we married you. Remember why you got the gig. Don’t make the trailer the only fun in the whole production. That’s misleading. — Avril Dell, 46, Toronto

Here are six more comments from the Esquire article I randomly selected to include here:

No. 437: Even the most ardent feminist likes to be swept off her feet with an unplanned spontaneous romantic gesture. Trust me. —Jennifer Dewhirst Steshyn, 51, Lakeland, Florida

No. 69: When you play with my hair, you’re actually making love to me. Did you know that? —Babette Dickerson, 50, Shaker Heights, Ohio

No. 104: The girl who had a crush on you in the third grade probably still thinks about you once a week. Okay, twice. —Jennifer Smith, 34, Atlanta

No. 872: In regards to shirt buttons, here’s our advice: one open, you’re fine, two open, you’re cutting it close, three or more and you look like you belong on Tool Academy. — Aminata Dia, 22, San Jose, California

No. 50: No, it’s not all right that you didn’t plan anything for our birthday even though we told you not to. — Carla Michelle Coley, 24, Washington, D. C.

No. 40: We think you’re high maintenance, too. — Naomi Pabon-Figueroa, 25, Pittsburgh

I suppose the Esquire article leaned so heavily on comments by 20-something women due to that likely being the prime dating demographic. As I picked remarks to include today I intentionally leaned a bit toward women in their 30’s, 40’s and 50’s.  Being in my 5th decade I was especially interested to learn what “older” (defined as more mature/experienced/full-grown/wiser, etc) women had to say.  

The readers of this blog lean about 60% female and I am hopeful some of you will leave a comment here about “What Men Need to Know About Women” so I can post them.  Men, you are just as welcome to leave your insights about women as well.

After two marriages and too many failed relationships over the years, I appreciate any input you care to share. Being in a new wonderful love relationship of about six months now, all helpful insights will be greatly appreciated. 

Sometimes I wonder if men and women really suit each other.  Perhaps they should live next door and just visit now and then.  Katharine Hepburn

Here’s a link to the Esquire article “1,000 Things You Don’t Know About Women: http://www.esquire.com/women/women-issue/funny-facts-about-women-0510

A Short Tale of Many Feelings

/ James Browning / 1 Comment

Last evening, Christmas Eve, was ‘groovy’.  I decorated my little black convertible with a big red bow on the front grill, evergreen trim in the back and battery-powered multi-colored blinking Christmas lights around the windshield.  A thermos was filled with hot chocolate and a snack of raisins secured in a baggie.  Then my lady and I bundled up layer upon layer to warm us on a 20-something degree evening’s long ride to see Christmas lights.

 The festively decorated car got more than a few waves and car horn honks along with lots of assorted smiles and looks of amusement.  I found myself wondering if some saw the red jacket I was wearing as a hint of Santa Claus.  My nearly all white facial hair and that on my head sticking out from my hat probably added to the suggestion.  While completely unintentional, I like the thought!  What a ‘funky’ Santa I must have looked like!

After about an hour’s sightseeing we stopped around 10pm in a church parking lot to warm up with hot chocolate and snack on a few raisins.  There were cars already in the parking lot and slowly more arrived.  While we never knew for certain it appeared these were early arrivals for some sort of late night/early morning service or pageant.  That thought added a little more to the special feeling of the night before Christmas.  

After our ten minute break we continued our tour of Christmas displays.  In total we spent about two and a half hours finding delightful do-it-yourself exhibits and having a great time.  Especially enjoyable were the neighborhoods where many families decorated their homes and we drove slowly savoring those particularly.  The highlight was two homes with thousands of Christmas lights synchronized to music that could be tuned in on my car radio.  As others did, I stopped the car and turned the headlights and smiled the entire time I watched the lights jump, jiggle and blink.  The displays were beautiful but not of the caliber of the millions of lights at a local bible college called Rhema does each year.  Tonight we plan to go there for the second look-see this season.  

After the exhilarating experience of being out in the cold for a few hours, we came home, warmed up and realized we were exhausted.  Sleep came soon after and the last I remember looking at clock it was twelve minutes after midnight.  The first I saw of the morning light was a little past 8am when my Sweetie brought me coffee in bed.  She had gotten up about a quarter-hour earlier which was just enough time to make the morning brew.  My first impressions of the day were the smell of fresh coffee, my lady in her robe that is “Santa red” and a warm smile on her face; a wonderful way to greet Christmas morning. 

After sipping coffee for a while soon we were handing out to each other the gifts that “Santa Claus” had left the night before.  Opening was a slow and fun process with her opening one and then me opening one, back and forth until all five presents were opened.  Ironically there were the same number of gifts for each of us.  

Two gifts from my Brother in Alabama arrived several days ago and I choose to wait until Christmas morning to open them.  Both were thoughtful and useful gifts.  One was a type of “emergency hammer” one keeps in the car to break a window in case of an accident.  The other was a cool, tiny “Leatherman utility tool”.  Remarking how much I liked it, I said years ago I received as a Christmas gift the tool’s ‘big brother’.  I was talking about the ultimate Swiss Army knife, the largest one made; so large it had to be carried in a scabbard on one’s belt.  

Wanting to show the comparison to my love, I went to my bedroom and started to look for the ‘big brother’ in my dresser.  First in the drawer I always kept it in and then a second one where it might be.  After going through all nine drawers a third time it became evident the Swiss Army knife was not there.  I have not used it in years. It’s possible I misplaced it, but doubtful. 

Some of my jewelry was stolen about a year ago. The culprit was either those who cleaned my house (although I don’t think it was them), some workman who had access to my bedroom when I was not home or else the movers when I relocated nine months ago.  I will never know where two weddings rings from previous marriages and a diamond pinky ring that belonged to my deceased father went.  The violation has bothered me a lot, but had settled.  Today finding the Swiss Army knife missing reawakened that discomfort and loss.  

Either the ultimate Swiss Army knife was taken with my jewelry or it was accidentally or intentionally mixed into my ex-wife’s things when she packed it all. I was served divorce papers at the airport returning from a business trip and summarily locked out of what had been our home.  She packed almost all my things, hence my suspicion.  I know there are other belongings that ended up with her.  In my mind it is a possibility she has the big knife, but in my heart I would rather blame the thief that took my other stuff.  There has been enough pain caused by the demise of my second marriage.  It is ongoing peace I want most of all for both of us.  In that spirit I will lean on my gratitude for the good times she and shared and thankfulness for the many other material blessings I have.   After all the Swiss Army knife is just a thing and at best I was only its temporary caretaker.  Eventually it was destined to someone else’s anyway.

Most of all this morning I am thankful the spirit of Christmas is acutely alive within me this year.  I am glad forgiveness for anyone who has wronged me is now easy to come by.  At the top of my gratitude list is my love for a special woman who I care about without the complication and dysfunction that troubled all my previous relationships.  In the spirit of the birth Christ-mas celebrates I give humble thanks. Merry Christmas!

Forgive all who have offended you, not for them, but for yourself.  Harriet Nelson