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God is Love, Hope, Peace

/ James Browning / 3 Comments

For several years there was no obvious sign of Christmas in the place I lived.  Little feeling for the holidays was within me either.  My emotions were mostly variances in the range of anguish to numbness.  Such is the way of healing.  

Recovering from grief, heartache and dysfunction is a slow process and requires the time it takes.  No more.  No less.  There is no shortcut.

Last Christmas there began a subdued little glow of Christmas within me.  I bought a little artificial tree and decorated it.  For the first time in years I began to find some delight for the holidays.  

Now just twelve months later it feels as though many multiples of that period have come and gone.  In  the passing of a single year my true recovery from depression has taken frim deep root and life is good; the best ever.  My education includes the knowledge there is no easy way to mend, except to live one day at a time, one step at a time. 

I kept my feet on a path forward even when sometimes that meant learning the lessons taught by two steps forward and one back.  I made mistakes, but did my best to extract wisdom from each one.  I kept going, even when collapsing into sorrow was appealing.  I did the work that recovery requires and sought out support of a peer when I was discouraged.  I faced my demons, destroyed few, but diminished the power of all of them. I made good choices and gave myself credit for them.  

I stopped the constant question “what am I going to do” and made a commitment to settle down in the city I already lived in.  I bought a house and began to live in a real home for the first time in almost five years.  I recommitted myself to the good job I already had and discovered I was better at it than ever.  I met someone special and freed my heart to fal in love.  I made new dear friendships and my relationship with three old friends got deeper. 

A full range of feeling came back and I allowed myself to experience them even when it was arduous.  Despair has largely been left behind me and in its space peace has found me.  I know true happiness and have immense gratitude.  

In the kitchen this morning pouring my second cup of coffee I looked toward the den and saw the view included at the top.  It was striking and touching to the point of watery eyes as I realized the spirit of Christmas was alive within me and evident in my home.  Even now my heart swells in my chest as I look at the photo.  Over time developing awareness of the goodness in my life and gratitude for it has been a substantial portion of the cure for what ailed me.  

In the photo:

First that jumps out to me is the sparkling little Christmas tree.  It is the same modest one from last year and is now known as “the little tree that could” bring Christmas joy back to James’s life.

I see the gifts for friends beneath the tree I can’t wait to share with them.  Other gifts were wrapped and shipped to friends and family earlier enough this year that the packages will reach their destinations in time for Christmas.

I live in a real home now that reflects back to me the warmth of an authentic person.  I don’t feel the need to pretend any longer and I like me… I really like me (well, most of the time).

On the walls is black and white photography I love.  In some frames is my work and others contain images by photographers I respect.

Old clocks are part of the landscape of my home as is the collection of ornamental glass on the sofa table.  I love how the ticking of the clocks and the reflections of the glass bring life to a room.

A  forty-year old Marantz amp/tuner brings me lots of pleasure especially when the music is coming from an LP playing on the turntable. 

Almost out of range visually in the left of the image, but never out of my mind are photos of my son.  No father has ever loved a son more nor been prouder of one.  

There are flowers on the hearth in front of the fireplace.  While a seemingly decadent luxury to some, there always are fresh flowers in my home.  There is never too much beauty in anyone’s life.

In a big green glass jar under the end table is a collection of matchbooks that span not only my life but some of my father’s time when phone numbers were something like “Delaware 3-2468”.

In the center of the image is a framed photo of a couple.  It was taken a few months ago on a cell phone by a friend of the woman I love and me at a restaurant. 

The couch on the left of the photo is the one she and I have made out on many times.  My Sweetie says we should always keep it for sentimental reasons.  I agree.

Too small to be focused on just to the right of the fireplace on the hearth are three rocks with words on them.  One rock says “God is love” on it.  My friend and fellow Codependence Anonymous member Doug gave me (thanks Dude!).  There are two others both given to me by my ex-wife after we had gone our separate ways.  One has “Hope” carved into it and was the spirit she wished for me at one of my birthdays.  And the most important rock she also gave me has “Peace” inscribed upon it.  For the eight years we were together when she asked what I wanted most in life I would reply “peace”.  Several years ago during one of the last times we spent several hours together she gave me the “peace rock” saying she wished “peace” for me with all her heart.  Life has moved on.  She has remarried.  We are only part of each other’s past.  Today I know the comfort of a good measure of “peace” and owe her thanks for helping me move in its direction.

God is love. Hope.  Peace. I am exceedingly grateful to have the gift of these three blessings profoundly alive in my life.  And those things are my Christmas wish for one and all.

Christmas gift suggestions:  To your enemy, forgiveness.  To an opponent, tolerance.  To a friend, your heart.  To a customer, service.  To all, charity.  To every child, a good example.  To yourself, respect.  Oren Arnold

Yes, Santa Claus, There IS a Virginia

/ James Browning / 2 Comments

Yesterday found here was the well-known “Yes,Virginia, there is a Santa Claus” editorial from 1897.  Thank you for all the positive feedback on reprinting it on the  goodmorninggratitude.com blog!

Today this blog features a follow-up piece written a hundred and twelve years after Virginia wrote her famous letter.   From a blog Fortune Magazine’s Stanley Bing writes each day called Bing’s Blog comes ” Yes, Santa Claus, there IS a Virginia”.  

“DEAR BLOGGER: I am very old and live at the North Pole. All of my little friends up here say that there is no Virginia any more. Mrs. Claus says that if I see it on the your website, it’s so. Please tell me the truth: Is there a Virginia? Signed, Chris (Santa) Claus, 115 Workshop Way, North Pole.

Monday, December 21, 2009 at 11:35 am
Chris,
Your little friends are wrong. They have been consuming too much media, and have been infected by the material that gains the most attention there. They do not believe that which doesn’t rise to the top of the search stack or get the highest ratings 18-49. They think that nothing exists but that which is measured by hits, twitters and chatter, or makes its way by other means to the top of our collective mind.

You see, Chris, in this world of ours, all attention spans, be they those of children or of adults, are very tiny, very short, and very, very fragile. As we make our way through the vast cloud of information, entertainment, opinion, music, random noise and other forms of auditory, visual, and intellectual stimulation, each human being is a minuscule atom, a quark within the boundless physical and virtual universe that surrounds us. None of us can grasp the total picture.

Yes, SANTA CLAUS, there is a Virginia. She still exists as certainly as love and hope and childhood exist inside every person, as you know they do, shining unaided within each of us and lighting our way to true peace and joy that transcends this time and place.

Good Lord! How gray the world would be if there were no Virginia. It would be as gray as if there were no Santa Claus! There would be no song, no poetry, no rhythm to our existence beyond that which we can do and see and want and buy. The eternal childhood that makes our lives have meaning would be extinguished. Not believe in Virginia! You might as well not believe in quantum physics!

Can you find her? Perhaps not by looking with your eyes. You might get your elves to scour the brick-and-mortar malls and online destinations, chat rooms and Facebook pages from one end of the world to the other on Christmas Eve to catch her, but even if they did not see her hanging out in one random location or another, what would that prove? Nobody sees Virginia, but that doesn’t mean she’s not out there.

Did you ever see an aura? Of course not, but that doesn’t mean you don’t have one. Or karma? Can it be measured? Certainly not. But still it shapes the length and color of our days. How about the Higgs boson? Talk to 1,000 scientists from here to CERN and not one will disbelieve in it, and yet nobody can find a single one, even with a trillion dollar accelerator.

There is a firewall between us and the unseen world. Only love, kindness, understanding, and simplicity can lift that veil. And in the end, amid all the noise and haste, what lies beyond is really all that matters, all that has ever mattered. No Virginia? Thank God, she lives, Santa, and she always will. Ten thousand years from now, when we have evolved into strange, unrecognizable amalgams of organic material and cybernetic wetware, she will continue to make glad the heart of childhood.

Through the traditions of Christmas my life has known great joy as a child and then shared with my son as a little one.  I am grateful for spirit of Santa Claus and all the children like Virginia who have believed in him.  Certainly Christmas is a celebration of the birth of Christ, but it is also a celebration of all children, every where, of all times. 

Our hearts grow tender with childhood memories and love of kindred, and we are better throughout the year for having, in spirit, become a child again at Christmas-time.  Laura Ingalls Wilder

Find Bing’s original blog post here:  http://stanleybing.blogs.fortune.cnn.com/2009/12/21/yes-santa-claus-there-is-a-virginia/

Uniquely Emoted by Each Reader

/ James Browning / 4 Comments

Please pardon that my usual type of content is being replaced today with something of an editorial rant.  I apologize in advance and appreciate your indulgence.  

Writing this blog every day now for eight months has been a highly rewarding experience. The commitment has brought discipline that was not present before.  Releasing to the world some of my deepest thoughts and feelings has quieted my mind and stilled my soul.  There have been great personal rewards, but not all I have received has been positive. 

Words typed on a screen are uniquely emoted by each reader; some vary only slightly from what is intended while others can find meaning that was never written.  The latter has been the only negative from my writing so openly.  I try to remember when a person interpolates content I did not write the occurrence is all about them and has nothing to do with me.  However, I am an emotion based human being and being chided for something I never said is not fun.  

The wisdom I lean on is the knowing that what matters is what I intended and not the interpretation of another person.  If someone chooses to find a way to be offended, hurt or bothered by something I have written that is not of my doing.  Nothing I have ever written on this blog was a slight or slam on anyone but myself, my parents, my stepfather and a few others who greatly mistreated or hurt me.  If someone else misunderstands, misinterprets, misreads, mistakes, misjudges, misconstrues, misapprehends, gets the wrong idea, misses the point or finds a snub or affront in this blog it is a creation of their own mind and has absolutely nothing to do with me.  And if that happens, I humbly request that you keep your personal fabrications to yourself!

Today I am grateful for your indulgence that allows me to “clear the air” and “get something off my chest”.  Thank you for your understanding.

I’m older. I’m more confident in who I am, what I want and what makes me happy. I’m still not immune to snarky comments or cutting remarks but it’s much easier to not let them bother me too much. Because worrying about those things and putting energy into them is a waste of my valuable time. 
From the blog The Minimalist Mom

I have been misunderstood perhaps more than anyone else ever, but it has not affected me, for the simple reason that there is no desire to be understood. It is their problem if they don’t understand, it is not my problem. If they misunderstand, it is their problem and their misery. Bhagwan Shree Rajneesh   

Why should we worry about what others think of us, do we have more confidence in their opinions than we do our own?  
Brigham Young

What You Think of Me is None of My Business

/ James Browning / 2 Comments

When considered all together, getting older is a good balance of what I am glad about and what I sometimes wish were no so.  Of course, having more of the hair I used to have or a back that does not ache after working in the yard or to not need reading glasses are good examples of what’s on the “I wish were not so list”.  Moving to the “I’m glad about list” immediately I find gratitude for knowledge not possible in younger years that has come from a broad range of life experience.  I cherish the wisdom earned the hard way mostly from my mistakes. 

One of the gems of wisdom I am grateful for is summed up in the words of Wayne Dyer:  What you think of me is none of my business.  No magic immunity from such thinking have I learned, but what others think of me plainly matters much less here in the fifth decade of my life than ever before.  Bosses I work for don’t make me nervous any more (does it have anything to do with the fact that most are younger and less experienced than me?)  Dressing nicely still matters, but comfort in what I have on is at the top of my list and matters ten times more than what others think of my wardrobe.       

A good deal of personal growth is evident to anyone who has long known me.  However, inwardly there remains speculation from time to time if I measure up in other people eyes.  An often successful method I use to combat such “stinking thinking” is to self-question with this thought:  How would I feel if I was literally unable to worry about another person’s opinion of me?  Getting some sort of silent mental answer in response to that quandary seems to banish the need to care what others think more often than not.  

Deep down I know I don’t need the approval of others. It is my ego, the fragile little pretend person within, that craves approval and fears disapproval. Even with the wisdom of years my mind will take things personally sometimes if I let it.  The need to attempt to gain power through approval and disapproval games will always be there. Here in middle age I am grateful to be able to separate myself from my ego more successfully and know approval and disapproval have no real value whatsoever.  In reality, another person’s thought or opinion about me is never personal, because it is never really about me in the first place. It’s about them. A person’s thoughts about anything and everything are only about them self. 

Writer Byron Katie has written several self-help books that have been insightful to me.  She says my business is what I think and what I feel.  If I get worried about how someone feels about me, I’m in their business. And if I’m busy living in their business, how am I present for my own business?  A helpful process Katie recommends to throw off untrue thoughts she calls “Inquiry”.  This process I have found helpful includes four questions to ask one’s self:
1. Is it true?
2. Can you absolutely know that it’s true?
3. How do you react when you think that thought?
4. Who would you be without the thought?

The most intimate relationship I have is the one with my own mind.  When that chatterbox in my head is stressing and screaming, I find that it will keep on doing it until I give it some attention.  That sort of thinking is like a toddler in a grocery store pitching a fit until it gets attention.  One way I give that attention is  putting my thoughts through Byron Katie’s four questions.  When I truly question their validity it’s common to find beliefs I have had for 5, 10, 30 years, even the worst, most stressful ones, disappear with regularity.  Then the “monkey mind chatterbox” (my brain) slows down and living becomes easier and life tastes better.  

When I can consider things objectively I see the most others can have of me is an opinion.  When thinking clearly I know to elevate another’s opinion of me to the status of a judgment is simply ridiculous. No one can judge me unless I grant him or her the power of being my judge.

When I let go of worry over other people’s opinions, I become free to reflect on my own opinion of myself. Living according to my own truth is an act of self-love and self-care. When I live according to my own beliefs and stay in my own  business (and out of other’s business), I find others usually will honor the truths I live by, whether they agree with me or not.  To know that tidbit of wisdom is a gift I’m grateful for.

I don’t know the key to success, but the key to failure is trying to please everybody. Bill Cosby

But for the Grace of God

/ James Browning / 4 Comments

My memory of that afternoon awakens thoughts of a sunny fall day.  Back in time a dozen years it was one of those in-between days of not cold yet, but not warm either.  Balanced between extremes that Saturday was one of those cool fall days I love most. 
 
Gone are the details of where my then-wife and I were driving to, but clear is the mental image of the ramp she was exiting on.  It was one of those long, circular highway exits that causes you go twenty-five miles an hour around three-quarters of a circle to get to the other side of the road.  Once there I looked down on that side of the in-town freeway to see an old car with a much older man outside taking to someone sitting on the passenger side. 
 
After getting my wife to pull over over safely on the side of the ramp, I got out and yelled down to the stranded man “are you OK?”  A slow Oklahoma country drawl came from the old man’s mouth “No sir, we ain’t”.   He looked harmless enough and had some difficulty walking, so I felt safe headed down the bank of the ramp to get close enough to talk to him.  On my way down I saw he was at least seventy-five or so and his passenger was a woman near his age who I assumed was his wife, which he later confirmed. 
 
As I stopped about six feet away from him, the old man said “once upon a time I was rich, but not no more.  That’s been gone for a long time.  It’s OK, but it’s hard when I come up short sometimes like now”.  I asked what was going on and he answered “we’re trying to get to some family down in Tahlequah.  The gas gauge don’t work and I thought we had enough to get there.  I was wrong and we ain’t got no money.”
 
About that time I saw the head of a baby close to a year old pop up from the lap of the woman in the car.  The old man said “that’s my great grand baby!  My wife and I been takin’ care of her ‘cause her momma and daddy ain’t no good.  It’s hard on us, but church helps us some and we get by.  I try not to complain ‘cause it’s what the good Lord sent us.  When I hold that little baby I just know God’ll provide for us somehow”.   
 
I asked about credit cards and found they didn’t have any.  I knew what had to be done. Remembering a farm supply store a few miles away across from a mini-mart I told him we’d be back be back in fifteen or twenty minutes with some gas.  At that moment the first smile I’d seen on the old guy’s face lit up.  The smile was missing half the teeth it once had but was warm and genuine.  His relief was obvious.  As I walked back to our car above I heard his “thank you mister” followed by the old woman chiming in right after with “God bless you sir”.
 
A half hour later we were back with a near full red plastic five gallon gas can.  My wife stayed in the car after we pulled up behind them on the shoulder of the road.  Not much spilled as I poured the gas into the tank of the old car without a funnel.  When done the old guy began trying to start his car.  It took a while and several false starts with the engine spitting and sputtering until it roared to life.  The motor was not running well, but seemed like it could get them to where they needed to go.
 
After buying the gas can and gas, I still had twenty-five dollars and some change left.  I kept a five and tried to give the remaining twenty to the old man sitting behind wheel of his old car.  He said “No sir, I ain’t gonna take your money.  You already been real too kind to us.  I’m much obliged God sent you.”  I insisted saying he didn’t have enough gas to finish his trip.  He continued to resist and shake his head side to side to say “no”.
 
Walking around to the passenger side of the car I made eye contact with the old lady and asked her if it would be ok if I gave her the money for the baby.  She looked at her husband and then at me… and repeated looking back and forth between us several times.  She never said a word, but ever so slightly he nodded his head “yes” to her.  I handed the money through the window and as she took it she held back tears and repeated the only four words I had heard her say earlier; “God bless you sir”.  Soon the car steered onto the highway and faded into the distance.
 
To this day I don’t know why I believed the old man.  He could have been a con artist, but if so he was damn good at it.  Even now I feel certain he was legit.  Real pain and fear are hard to make up.  The exact look in his face when he first looked into my eyes and began to speak saying “I used to be rich….” clearly showed the old man’s anguish. 

Even thought my now ex-wife was nervous enough to not get out of her truck, she was proud of what I did that day.  There will always be gladness within that we got to help someone in need, but to an even greater degree I am grateful for the gift I got that day.   Many times I have remembered the old man’s words “I used to be rich…” and how they touched me.  Thinking about those words and the situation I found him is a reminder that nothing on this Earth is permanent.  Tough times harder than we can even imagine are never far away from happening. The possessions I own, the money I have, the good health I enjoy: everything could all be gone in a blink!  I am grateful my memory of the encounter with the old couple is so vibrant yet today.  Each time I recall it my mind whispers softly to my soul, “There but for the grace of God, go I”.

Courage is as often the outcome of despair as of hope; in the one case we have nothing to lose, in the other, everything to gain.   Diane de Pointiers

When the Student is Ready…

/ James Browning / 2 Comments

Several times in the last ten years I have received a forwarded email titled “Bill Gates 11 Rules for Life” and while the list contains some relatively good advice, it has nothing to do with Bill Gates.  He never made a speech at a high school that contained the material being attributed to him.  The list most often sent around is actually incomplete in its length and who it is credited to.  The complete list includes 14 rules and comes from “Some Rules Kids Won’t Learn In School” by Charles J. Sykes.  It was originally printed in the San Diego Union Tribune on September 19, 1996.  Here’s the original text in complete and unedited form:

Unfortunately, there are some things that children should be learning in school, but don’t. Not all of them have to do with academics. As a modest back-to-school offering, here are some basic rules that may not have found their way into the standard curriculum.

Rule No. 1: Life is not fair. Get used to it. The average teen-ager uses the phrase, “It’s not fair” 8.6 times a day. You got it from your parents, who said it so often you decided they must be the most idealistic generation ever. When they started hearing it from their own kids, they realized Rule No. 1.

Rule No. 2: The real world won’t care as much about your self-esteem as much as your school does. It’ll expect you to accomplish something before you feel good about yourself. This may come as a shock. Usually, when inflated self-esteem meets reality, kids complain it’s not fair. (See Rule No. 1)

Rule No. 3: Sorry, you won’t make $40,000 a year right out of high school. And you won’t be a vice president or have a car phone either. You may even have to wear a uniform that doesn’t have a Gap label.

Rule No. 4: If you think your teacher is tough, wait ’til you get a boss. He doesn’t have tenure, so he tends to be a bit edgier. When you screw up, he’s not going to ask you how you feel about it.

Rule No. 5: Flipping burgers is not beneath your dignity. Your grand-parents had a different word of burger flipping. They called it opportunity. They weren’t embarrassed making minimum wage either. They would have been embarrassed to sit around talking about Kurt Cobain all weekend.

Rule No. 6: It’s not your parents’ fault. If you screw up, you are responsible. This is the flip side of “It’s my life,” and “You’re not the boss of me” and other eloquent proclamations of your generation. When you turn 18, it’s on your dime. Don’t whine about it, or you’ll sound like a baby boomer.

Rule No. 7: Before you were born your parents weren’t as boring as they are now. They got that way paying your bills, cleaning up your room and listening to you tell them how idealistic you are. And by the way, before you save the rain forest from the blood-sucking parasites of your parents’ generation, try delousing the closet in your bedroom.

Rule No. 8: Your school may have done away with winners and losers. Life hasn’t. In some schools, they’ll give you as many times as you want to get the right answer. Failing grades have been abolished and class valedictorians scrapped, lest anyone’s feelings be hurt. Effort is as important as results. This, of course, bears not the slightest resemblance to anything in real life. (See Rule No. 1, Rule No. 2 and Rule No. 4)

Rule No. 9: Life is not divided into semesters, and you don’t get summers off. Not even Easter break. They expect you to show up every day. For eight hours. And you don’t get a new life every 10 weeks. It just goes on and on. While we’re at it, very few jobs are interesting in fostering your self-expression or helping you find yourself. Fewer still lead to self-realization. (See Rule No. 1 and Rule No. 2.)

Rule No. 10: Television is not real life. Your life is not a sitcom. Your problems will not all be solved in 30 minutes, minus time for commercials. In real life, people actually have to leave the coffee shop to go to jobs. Your friends will not be as perky or pliable as Jennifer Aniston.

Rule No. 11: Be nice to nerds. You may end up working for them. We all could.

Rule No. 12: Smoking does not make you look cool. It makes you look moronic. Next time you’re out cruising, watch an 11-year-old with a butt in his mouth. That’s what you look like to anyone over 20. Ditto for “expressing yourself” with purple hair and/or pierced body parts.

Rule No. 13: You are not immortal. (See Rule No. 12.) If you are under the impression that living fast, dying young and leaving a beautiful corpse is romantic, you obviously haven’t seen one of your peers at room temperature lately.

Rule No. 14: Enjoy this while you can. Sure parents are a pain, school’s a bother, and life is depressing. But someday you’ll realize how wonderful it was to be a kid. Maybe you should start now.

You’re welcome.

Whether you’re six or sixty there is good practical advice for living contained within Mr. Sykes list.  Even for my peers who are “middle ager’s” all we have to do is substitute a few words here and there and apply a different context on a few rules to make the advice fully applicable.  I am grateful for the reminder this list brings to me and for it coming back into my life again today completely unexpected via email.

When the student is ready, the teacher will appear. Buddhist Proverb 

Anger is a Curved Blade

/ James Browning / 4 Comments

Holding anger is a poison…It eats you from inside…We think that by hating someone we hurt them…But hatred is a curved blade…and the harm we do to others…we also do to ourselves.  Mitch Albom “The Five People You Meet In Heaven”

A lot of my life I spent being angry at people and holding grudges, especially for the ones I felt I could hang the conditions of my life on.  I became expert at blaming others.  To a large degree I was an animosity collector and used my compilation of grudge and anger as justification for my behavior.  I reasoned why I behaved in an incorrect manner was because I had been hurt and wronged.  With those words typed out on my screen now, it is so simple to see such thinking goes compoletely against reason and logic.  Yet, in my thoughts I had no problem creating and accepting fake facts created out of nonsense and living in a self-created sort of survivable insanity.

If a person hurt me, given some time the anger simmered into a thin, but strong thread of feeling within.  When someone else wronged me, the fiber of that hurt was spun into another thread.  A “fabric” of negative emotion was created when these threads were combined and over time woven tighter and tighter together.  That emotional ‘clothe’ became a blinder that shrouded a good deal of my view of life.  What colored the fabric I created?  Fear!

Wikipedia says Fear is a distressing negative sensation by a perceived threat; a survival mechanism occurring in response to a specific stimulus, such as pain or the threat of danger. In short, fear is the ability to recognize danger leading to an urge to confront it or flee from it.  This description fits well how I was able to keep old wrongs done to me so fresh and alive within.  I would not let them go.  Fear became the sustenance that fed my anger and grudges which I was constantly either fighting or fleeing.  No wonder I lived in a constant inner emotional storm.

Psychologists say “fear is anger turned inward”.   Today that resonates true with me.  From experience I can readily see who it was that suffered most for bitterness I held within for others.  It was me!  I hurt myself by keeping other’s wrongs so alive within me.

Looking back I can see the steps I had to take to bring healing to old wounds I had kept infected, sometimes for decades.

1 – Acknowledge:  The beginning of healing was bringing the grudge and anger to the surface and expressing it.  I had to move past just thinking about it.  The beginning of healing was to relieve the pent-up pressure by writing about the wrong done to me or speaking about it to an understanding person.  Usually I did both.

2 – Acceptance:  Just writing or speaking about my anger did not cure it; those actions served only to bring the pain to the surface.  To move on I had to accept my feelings, and see more tangibly the depth of my emotions.  Letting myself accept that is was OK to have felt what I did was a beginning.

3 – Letting go of expectations:  Coming to realize that expecting remorse from others was a waste of time was a big step.  I had to come to know an expectation like that was one of the ways I kept old pain alive in the present.  Some things never make sense no matter how long they are pondered.  To stop expecting logic to make sense of things was another giant step in the healing process.

4 – Forgiveness:  Forgiving someone didn’t exempt them from their actions. It didn’t change the facts. I came to know that even though I had been legitimately wronged, forgiving did not mean I had to forget.  It did mean that I had to acknowledge the humanness of life, that all people make mistakes and do wrong things.  In the process came the discovery I needed to forgive myself just as much as others.

5 – Stop feeding the fire:  Once a fear/wrong/grudge was acknowledged and accepted, expectations had been let go of and forgiveness found, a personal commitment had to be made to not “feed the fire”.  I had to move on and stop thinking or talking about what happened.  When an old wound surfaces I mentally change the subject. If someone brings it up, I explain that’s in the past and I didn’t want to dwell on it any longer. While I will never be perfect at that type of self-control, it has improved greatly the more I have practiced it.

The storm that once raged within is mostly a gentle breeze these days, and only rarely more than that.  To get better emotionally it took living one day one day at a time and trying to take baby steps forward during each one.  Sometimes I moved forward and at others I took steps backward, but by consistently applying myself I moved onward and gained momentum that brought me to today where I am happy and content.  It took years, but all the effort was worth it!  To all I have learned and to all I have learned from, I am deeply grateful.

 Your problem is how you are going to spend this one and precious life you have been issued. Whether you’re going to spend it trying to look good and creating the illusion that you have power over circumstances, or whether you are going to taste it, enjoy it and find out the truth about who you are.  Anne Lamott

A Marvelous Day

/ James Browning / 2 Comments

The commitment I made to myself seven months ago was to write here each day, no matter what!  Today is number two hundred fifteen.  My time is slim this evening and the content I offer is hastily written.  To keep my pledge to write daily, this post is arriving just before midnight.  Why so late?  Today was one to be filled with living, not writing.

The marvel of this day just spent, humbles me.

All is well…
Very well. 
I have had a wonderful day…
A marvelous day…
A memorable day…
A good day…

It began with sleeping in for an extra two hours.  I woke rested, ready and thankful for the new day. 

An hour later I was having breakfast at a favorite place with the woman who has my heart.  Afterwards we spent the majority of this rainy Saturday in each other arms.  I love her and she loves me.  How incredibly wonderful!

Tonight I took my best friend out to celebrate his birthday over dinner.  We ended the evening by watching “The Wizard of Oz”. 

I can’t imagine a day ever being any better than this one.  I am content.  I feel loved.  I feel safe.  I am happy.  I am  thankful…. so very thankful!  

If the only prayer you said in your whole life was, “thank you,” that would suffice.  Meister Eckhart

 

My Prayers for Thanksgiving

/ James Browning / 4 Comments

Tomorrow is the nationally sanctioned American holiday for thanks; for gratitude.  Beyond the Thanksgiving holiday, the family gathering, the food and the plenty it is thankfulness for all the goodness in my life I want to express my humble gratefulness for.  I have so much to be thankful for, especially this year.  I have health, love, friends, family, good work and hope.  I am humbly and deeply grateful.

Gratitude:  To recognize the quality, significance, or magnitude of life; a warm and friendly feeling awakened by thankfulness.

During the Civil War in 1863  Abraham Lincoln set the official U.S.holiday of “Thanksgiving”.  At the time he said: 

We have been the recipients of the choicest bounties of heaven; we have been preserved these many years in peace and prosperity; we have grown in numbers, wealth and power as no other nation has ever grown. But we have forgotten God. We have forgotten the gracious hand which preserved us in peace and multiplied and enriched and strengthened us, and we have vainly imagined, in the deceitfulness of our hearts, that all these blessings were produced by some superior wisdom and virtue of our own. Intoxicated with unbroken success, we have become too self-sufficient to feel the necessity of redeeming and preserving grace, too proud to pray to the God that made us.

It has seemed to me fit and proper that [the gifts of God] should be solemnly, reverently, and gratefully acknowledged with one heart and one voice by the whole American people. I do, therefore, invite my fellow citizens… to set apart and observe the last Thursday of November next as a day of thanksgiving and praise to our beneficent Father who dwelleth in the heavens.” 

Taken from “We Thank Thee” by Ralph Waldo Emerson
For tender grass so fresh, so sweet,
For the song of bird and hum of bee,
For all things fair we hear or see.
For blue of stream and blue of sky,
For pleasant shade of branches high,
For fragrant air and cooling breeze,
For beauty of the blooming trees.
For this new morning with its light,
For rest and shelter of the night,
For health and food, for love and friends,
For everything Thy goodness sends,
Father in heaven, we thank Thee.

“Help Me” by Samuel F. Pugh
O God, when I have food,
help me to remember the hungry;
When I have work,
help me to remember the jobless;
When I have a home,
help me to remember those who have no home at all;
When I am without pain,
help me to remember those who suffer,
And remembering,
help me to destroy my complacency;
bestir my compassion,
and be concerned enough to help;
By word and deed,
those who cry out for what we take for granted.
Amen.

Taken from “MY THANKSGIVING PRAYER TO YOU”  by Judy N. Marquart
My Thanksgiving prayer
to you from me;
Is for love strong and true
that you hold within thee.
A house filled with love
and the light how it shines;
Showing all of its beauty
till the end of time.

Kindness towards others
for all of your days;
To be returned I pray
in many a way.
A good job to keep you
and pay all your bills;
That you spend it all wisely
and not on the frills.

A family around you
that is loving and true;
That you all stand together
for there are so few.
Dreams of pure beauty
as you lay there and sleep;

Through the peaceful night
when darkness is deep.
An angel to guide you
through morning and night;
To protect you and love you
till the end of your plight.

“Iroquois Thanksgiving Prayer” adapted by St Joseph of Peace
We return thanks to our Mother, the Earth, which sustains us.
We return thanks to the rivers and streams, which supply us with water.
We return thanks to all herbs,
Which furnish medicines for the cure of our diseases.
We return thanks to the moon and stars,
Which have given to us their light when the sun was gone.
We return thanks to the sun,
That has looked upon the earth with a beneficent eye.
Lastly, we return thanks to the Great Spirit, in Whom is embodied all goodness,
And Who directs all things for the good of Her children.”

We can only be said to be alive in those moments when our hearts are conscious of our treasures. 
Thornton Wilder

The Most Radiant Pages

/ James Browning / 1 Comment

There is not enough kindness in the world and far too much of the opposite.  I can’t imagine anyone disagreeing with that statement.  In everyday life most people (including me until about ten years ago) are so blinded by where they have been and where they are going that little notice is made of each moment’s passing.  There were many years I barely paid attention to what was around me and to an even lesser degree, noticed the people in my momentary surroundings.  In the last decade a portion of the work to improve my quality of life has included improving awareness.  It has made a tremendous difference. 
 
Her name tag read “Sandra” as I walked up to the hotel checkout desk yesterday.  We made small talk for about a minute concerning the sun finally showing its face after three days of clouds while she processed my departure.  She handed the receipt to me and said “have a nice day”.  As I returned the sentiment I looked her straight in the eye making full visual contact for a split second and said “thank you” in earnest.  I felt her appreciation immediately.  I really saw her and she knew it. 

Many people disregard service personnel and treat them at best like they’re not there and at worst in a mean-spirited manner.  Certainly I can bow-up to bad treatment when I get it, but when getting decent to good service I always try to connect if only for a moment.  Time and time again I have seen how just a tiny little bit of kindness can make a difference.  Being pleasant and making full eye contact states that I really do see the other person.  That acknowledgment is a small kindness that I am convinced makes a difference.
 
After checkout, at the front of the hotel a prearranged car was waiting for me.  On the way to the airport, I came to know a person I will long remember.  Just having sat down in the luxury car’s backseat, an older gentleman who was the driver looked at me in the rear view mirror and asked how I was doing.  My usual response of “every day’s a good day, some are just better than others” pleased him.  He smiled and said “I’m a blessed man too”.  As we pulled out of the hotel driveway our special little time together continued as I asked where he was from.  He replied “I was born in Mobile, Alabama”.  With my response “I was born in Alabama too” a real conversation began.
 
So often service people like a cab or limo driver are hardly paid attention to by customers.  As I did yesterday morning with who life has thrown into my path, I often try a few exploratory exchanges to find out if a person is interested in conversation.  Most are.  The driver seemed very pleased that I took an interest in him.  I learned he had lived most of his life  in Indianapolis, first as a dietitian and later as a Chemist’s assistant.  The vocation he loved best was the latter that made use of his minor in chemistry for the last 15 years of his full-time working life.   He had retired and moved to Michigan six years previously for the “fishing” he said and was a part-time driver to help afford his “expensive fishing toys”. 
 
Our forty minutes passed quickly and it was only outside the vehicle when he went to get my suitcase out of the truck that I got a full look at him.  Short, African-American, full head of almost white hair, dressed well and quite distinguished looking.  I put my hand out as I asked what his first name was.  He replied “Carl”.  I shook his hand as I said “my name is James”.  I thanked him for the good conversation and wished him well.  In seconds I was inside the airport and Carl was off to pick up his last run of the day so he could go fishing in a few hours.  He is now another of my special “temporary friends” who will remain indelibly stamped into my preferred memory. 
 
So long it has been a traveling practice I can’t remember when it began. At least 25 years ago I began consistently saying six simple words of thanks just before I stepped off an airplane and onto the Jetway.  A moment before the exit door I direct my voice up front into the command cabin and say “Thanks for a safe ride guys”.  Rarely do they miss hearing me.  Without fail I get a pleased and positive response from them.
 
Why do I feel compelled to say thanks to the pilots?  First, I am truly grateful for each and every flight I am on that is flown safely.  And secondly, I am convinced there is not enough gratitude expressed.  There’s an over-supply of bitching and complaining but not nearly enough focus on what is good and goes well.  Saying thank you to the pilots is my way of putting a little more goodness into life on this planet.  Does it make a difference?  Yes, I think it does.  Each kindness may mean little by its self, but collectively the total of them all has to make a positive contribution to the overall quality of life for everyone.  Further, I know for certain saying “thank you” and expressing my gratitude makes me feel good.  And that’s the best reason I know to continue always doing it whenever I can!

Unselfish and noble actions are
the most radiant pages in the biography of souls. 
David Thomas