Precious things

You Are Here Now

/ James Browning

tumblr_mb9ou0V4zm1rbvjfno1_500Like the joy of the sea coming home to shore,
May the relief of laughter rinse through your soul.

As the wind loves to call things to dance,
May your gravity by lightened by grace.

Like the dignity of moonlight restoring the earth,
May your thoughts incline with reverence and respect.

As water takes whatever shape it is in,
So free may you be about who you become.

As silence smiles on the other side of what’s said,
May your sense of irony bring perspective.

As time remains free of all that it frames,
May your mind stay clear of all it names.

May your prayer of listening deepen enough
to hear in the depths the laughter of god.

“For Equilibrium, a Blessing”
From “To Bless the Space Between Us: A Book of Blessings”
John O’Donohue

For the joy, laughter, grace, reverence, respect, freedom, perspective, time, freedom, clarity, love and every blessing of my life I have learned a gratitude in the last two years never before experienced. The more I acknowledge the gifts and express my thankfulness, the more of the good, wonderful and beautiful arrives.

I ask, “If life was always this uncomplicatedly simple why did it take me so long to see that?” The answer immediately echoes back “It does not matter, you are here now”.

Courage is the price
that life exacts
for granting peace.
Amelia Earhart

The Desire Within

/ James Browning

greenhouse-long-rowI began three times to write down my thoughts here this morning and abandoned each attempt because I could not focus so the words would flow. Some days there is so much swirling in my thoughts and feelings that isolating on one to write about becomes impossible. Those are those days when to even try is futile; like day. Instead I borrow words from other writers that in some small way express a few of the random thoughts I cannot find words for.

You make lists in your head about what you want in a lover,
like brown hair and a sweet voice.
A sharp mind and a soft heart,
a sense of humor that actually makes you laugh like you mean it.
This and that. And it’s all BS.
Because people aren’t lists.
And I’ve always wanted to be the person who made someone realize that.
I want to come across someone with a list in their head
that is nothing like the person I am,
and I want to show them
what they didn’t even know they were looking for.
People who think they know what they want are fooling themselves.
Nobody really knows what they want.
Not until it’s right in front of them.
Marianna Paige

I’ll go out there and make my mistakes.
I’ll fall down, get hurt, cry, laugh, love, and get back up.
I’ll stand on the highest mountaintop and go into the deepest caverns.
I’ll roam across the world, visit the moon and swim in outer space.
I’ll let my imagination run wild and let my spirit soar.
Why?
Because when my life flashes before my eyes in those final moments,
I want to have something worthwhile to watch,
with plenty of love and laughter, good times and bad.
I don’t want to regret a thing and I plan not to.
Remember, it’s not usually the things you do that you regret,
it’s the things you don’t do and leave unsaid.
Laugh out loud.
Cry in the rain.
Love with all your heart and soul.
Get hurt.
Tell the truth.
Go crazy.
But never forget that you only get one shot.
One shot at this day, one shot at this minute.
One shot at this age.
One shot at life.
So make sure your life is one
you will enjoy watching in your final moments.
Anna Floyd

If there were no great writers whose work I could read, I would never have become one who loves reading so much. And if I had not grown to love the written word, I would never have attempted to put my thoughts down for someone else to read. Be my attempts ever so humble, I am deeply grateful for the desire within that drives me to share myself in written form.

Sometimes the bad things
that happen in our lives
put us directly on the path
to the best things
that will ever happen to us.
Unknown

Yes, Santa Claus, There IS a Virginia

/ James Browning

Originally Posted here one year ago on December 20, 2011

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/

Thinking There Is One More Stair

/ James Browning

A dear friend, Jan, died in a car accident over five years ago. I still have not had the heart to move the photos I have of her and her husband into an archive. Without the ability to explain it, even moving them from the directory where they reside is a discomfort even now I am not ready for.

There are two voice-mail messages on my phone from a friend of over 35 years. Bill passed away about two years ago. I know I need to save the audio onto a disc, but disturbing them from where he left the messages is not something I am ready to do.

One of the best friends of my life, Mac, died in 1993 and it was ten years before I got around to collecting together my mementos and photos of his life. I was not ready previously to store them away.

In all three cases, it wasn’t an unwillingness to let go of a person I loved and accept their death. Rather, leaving things where each placed something or as they created them was a private tribute to people who have special places in my heart. Past that I can’t explain it.

At the end of August I blogged about a poem I found purely by coincidence which was particularly meaningful written by an ordinary person I knew nothing about named Sherry Potter. The connection to her brought about thought the efforts of my friend Doug helped create a permanent place in my heart and mind for her. At the time it gave me solace that she was a surviving fighter of cancer. The story is contained within these two blogs: https://goodmorninggratitude.com/2012/08/30/thank-you-sherry/   https://goodmorninggratitude.com/2012/08/31/thank-you-doug/

About two weeks ago I received an email about Sherry from a family member  who found my email address on her computer. Sherry Potter passed away on November 6, 2012 within about two months of the contact she and I had. While I barely knew her, we did connect and I feel a sense of loss. I put off writing about her death and only this morning did I look again for the email from a family member. Sadly I apparently deleted it accidentally. As Best I recall from the email her poem was written about a man she was married to at one time, but never got over. Most all of us have those we loved, who for one reason or another, moved on in life without us. With that having happened to me more than once, I especially related to Ms. Potter’s poem “Ghosts”

I dance in the moonlight and your ghost in my arms dreaming of what might have been.

I hope that life has been kind to you and that I am not forgotten.

I send warm breezes to kiss your lips that I cannot reach and I envy them.

Time and space has taken their toll, but the memory of you and our lost love lives in the secret places of my heart.

We cannot know what the fates have in store for us as the future has yet to be written.
I wonder, will the paths we choose bring us back to each other or further apart on divergent paths, never to meet again in this life.

I only know that my memories of you warm me like a soft blanket against winters cold grip, comforting me when I feel I can no longer stand strong against the hardness of life.

We will not waste our precious time on ‘what ifs’ but yet in fleeting moments they invade my thoughts without invitation and that is when I dance in the moonlight with your ghost in my arms.

Mixed in with my sadness, is gratitude to have bumped into her, ever so briefly, in this life. May you forever dance happily in the moonlight Sherry Potter: November 4, 1941 – November 6, 2012. http://www.gracememorialchapel.net/sitemaker/sites/gracem0/obit.cgi?user=798035Potter

It is a curious thing, the death of a loved one.
We all know that our time in this world is limited,
and that eventually all of us will end up underneath some sheet,
never to wake up. And yet it is always a surprise when it happens
to someone we know. It is like walking up the stairs to your bedroom
in the dark, and thinking there is one more stair than there is.
Your foot falls down, through the air, and there is a sickly moment
of dark surprise as you try and readjust the way you thought of things.
Lemony Snicket

Grateful In Greater Measure

/ James Browning

This Thanksgiving morning I have spent about an hour reading email, sending holiday wishes and looking at the news of the day on-line while dimly in the back of my mind thinking about writing here. For this blog focused on gratitude, I first thought I wanted to leave some intricately bold and meaningful statement about the meaning of Thanksgiving. Instead the main theme my mind settled on is neither complicated or long. It’s only sixteen words:

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

Better than I have done on any previous Thanksgiving, my intention is to spend this day wrapped in a glow of sincere gratitude while asking for guidance in becoming an ever improving version of ‘me’.

There’s no record to be found for the original source or who wrote the piece just below. The words speak to the core of my being and state clearly my aspirations for living life well. I give humble thanks to the anonymous writer whose work so accurately reflects the philosophy of life I have adopted.

    • This is your life!
    • Do what you love. And do it often.
    • If you don’t like something, change it.
    • If you don’t like your job, quit. Now!
    • If you don’t have enough time, stop watching TV.
    • If you are looking for the love of your life, stop. It will be waiting for you when you start doing thing you love to do.
    • Stop over analyzing, life is so simple.
    • All emotions are beautiful.
    • When you eat, appreciate every last bite.
    • Open you mind, heart and spirit to new things and to new people. We are united in our differences.
    • Ask the next person what you see what their passion is and share your inspiring dream with them.
    • Travel often.
    • Some opportunities only come once. Seize them.
    • Getting lost will help you find your self.
    • Life is about the people you meet and the things you create with them. So go out and start creating with them.
    • Life is short. Live your dream and share your passion.

My short prayer for today:
Maker of all things and higher power that guides me from the inside out;
May I learn to be grateful in greater measure for all that comes to me;
May I more clearly see that pain is necessary for a balanced life;
May I learn the lessons being taught to me with less resistance;
May all those I love know the depth of feeling in my heart for them;
And May I fear death less and embrace life more.
Amen.

Shifts Slightly in Color and Form

/ James Browning

I  found a webpage with a five question quiz “What is the meaning of your life?”   http://www.blogthings.com/whatisthemeaningofyourlifequiz/ There are five possible conclusions one’s answers can cause. In alphabetical order they are:

1. The Meaning of Your Life is Joy
2. The Meaning of Your Life is Legacy
3. The Meaning of Your Life is Love
4. The Meaning of Your Life is Pleasure
5. The Meaning of Your Life is Understanding

It’s interesting that I picked Love or Joy as my likely score before taking the quiz only to be surprised with a ‘score’ of “The Meaning of Your Life is Pleasure“.  The short narrative accompanying the conclusion of the quiz was: You don’t have to be reminded that life is short. You’re going to live it up and have fun. You are more afraid of regretting what you didn’t do, and you try to do it all.You want to travel the world, experience passion, eat great food, and have amazing adventures. Whenever possible, you indulge. You want to sample all the world’s pleasures, even if your health and finances suffer a little.

Now that’s an eye opener. I truly have morphed and changed with age. Yes, I have become more and more open to newly found knowledge, understanding and freshly gained familiarity. My desire is strong to learn and experience new things. Never had I considered being driven to the point of being a “pleasure seeker”. It had not occurred to me to see my hopes and aspirations from such an angle and considering that perspective broadened my perception.

The “pleasure” answer caused me to push my chair away for a while before I could continue writing. I just did not like the answer I had received and proceeded to tell myself “what real information could five simple questions uncover? That’s not a true answer about me!”

After having breakfast and doing a couple of quick chores, it came to me: What the ‘meaning of my life is’ has no where the significance the ‘quality of my life’ does. Am I happy? More often than not. Do I enjoy being alive? Every day. Do I see good prospects for the future? Without a doubt. Is my health good?  Overall, very much so. Do I have friends and family who love me and I them. Yes, I am richly blessed. Am I able to support myself and reasonably do what I want to do? Affirmative.

Believing in a power beyond me also adds to the quality of my life. With little doubt it has been my discovery I am NOT an atheist as my thinking was in my youth. Atheist Jennifer Fulwiler once said, I acknowledged the truth that life was meaningless… and yet I kept acting as if my own life had meaning, as if all the hope and love and joy I’d experienced was something real, something more than a mirage produced by the chemicals in my brain… if everything that we call heroism and glory, and all the significance of all great human achievements, can be reduced to some neurons firing in the human brain, then it’s all destined to be extinguished at death.

Coming into contact with opinions like that of Fulwiler helped bring me to the solid conclusion I am firmly not an atheist. I can now see that opinion was more a fashion statement of youth than a profession of my real truth. I concluded long ago my life was more than something merely material and temporal.

On my death, when the grand cosmic mystery unfolds, it is my earnest wish that the world be a little better for me having been here. When I die if that’s it, lights out, goodbye and my beliefs were mistaken, my life will still have been better because of my delusion!

What is the meaning of my life? My memories and experiences and those I love and am loved by. That’s really it! There is gratitude for moments of rapture and joy experienced and thankfulness for my greatest teachers; difficulty and heartache. The meaning of my life is redefined ever so slightly each day For the freedom to live that way my gratitude is profound.

The purpose of life is to discover your gift.
The meaning of life is to give your gift away.
David Viscott

A Song to My Soul

/ James Browning

One of my habits near an addiction level is used books. I have my nose in a book just about every day. My interests have changed over time and rarely do I read anything but non-fiction. Reading to learn and explore has become my driving force and somewhere along the way I picked up a love of poetry. Old or new, if it rhymes with good meter a poem often feels like a song being sung to my soul when I read it.

Used books stores are favorite places and when visiting a city it’s a special treat to visit one of the local stores stocking previously owned books. My favorite in the town where I live is a huge, cluttered and rambling place called “Gardner’s”. The store is not just enjoyable, it is a sort of refuge for me. If I am feeling down, going there is always a pick me up whether I buy something or not. That’s the reason for a late afternoon visit yesterday.

It’s particularly meaningful when I read an inscription a person wrote in a book given as a gift. Other times I find interesting clipped articles that may or may not have anything to do with the subject of the book. Bookmarks left in an old book sometimes present food for thought. Then once in a while I’ll come across family photos and feel a little sad that the images have been separated from the loved ones where they belong. Always before there has been no information on any such photos so I could attempt to return them; at least until yesterday.

On my desk before me are the four photos at the top of this blog. My favorite is the one of the two elementary school children. The others help me to know what they grew up to be. The boy became a military man and the girl became a care giver.

The only date indicated is the bottom middle photo: May 2001. That means the top center photo of brother and sister is from somewhere around the late 70’s, maybe early 80’s. The top center photo has info on back I hope will allow me to return to where they belong: “Nici & Travis Unser, Colo. Spgs, Return to Lynn Unser”.

For all the slams the internet may receive, there are many benefits such as looking up strangers from just a little information (assuming it is done with good intentions such as mine). Here’s what I found that I believe relates to the Unser’s:

Nici and Travis’s father is Al Unser, who retired not long ago as CEO of the Greater Tulsa Association of Realtors. Travis graduated from Bishop Kelly High School in 1996, and in 2000 graduated with a Bachelor of Science degree in Civil Engineering from The Citadel in Charleston, S.C.. In late 2008 he came home from serving his third tour in Iraq as a Naval Aviator with the U.S. Marine Corps. Nici (Nicole) lives in Dallas and is a Neonatal ICU nurse for Baylor University Medical Center. “Nici” was recognized as Nurse of the Year in her unit, and has been nominated for the Dallas’ Great 100 Nurses award. She is a 1993 graduate of Bishop Kelly High School and a 1997 graduate of Baylor University. Here’s the photo that accompanied this info.

With further digging I discovered that Mother, Mary Lynnn Unser, passed away in June of 2007 in Tulsa. Since the little kids photo was back inscribed “Return to Lynn Unser” I feel especially compelled to get these photos back to her family. I am certain the inscription is in her hand.

In the grand scheme it’s not a big deal if I am successful in returning the photographs. Only a small act of kindness will have been accomplished. As emotion wells within, I hope I succeed but realize that the doing of the self assigned task will benefit me most. It is in making a different; in doing little things to make the world slightly better for having been here that are meaningful to me. I am grateful to have grown into my skin over the years to be a gently caring man to whom something like this would matter.

There is overwhelming evidence
that the higher the level of self-esteem,
the more likely one will be to treat others
with respect, kindness, and generosity.
Nathaniel Branden

Full of Light and Color

/ James Browning

My apologizes if I have gone overboard recently in expressing my love of early fall. It truly is a magnificent time of the year and inspires me beyond any other season. Putting into words how October moves me would be like trying to explain what love is or accurately expressing in words the colors of a western sunset; such things can be attempted, but not accomplished. It is the time of year when my mind is most alive with thoughts brought on largely by the of splendor of autumn contrasted by the naked beauty winter will bring soon after.

“When the Frost is on the Punkin” By James Whitcomb Riley
When the frost is on the punkin and the fodder’s in the shock,
And you hear the kyouck and gobble of the struttin’ turkey-cock,
And the clackin’ of the guineys, and the cluckin’ of the hens,
And the rooster’s hallylooyer as he tiptoes on the fence;
O, it’s then’s the times a feller is a-feelin’ at his best,
With the risin’ sun to greet him from a night of peaceful rest,
As he leaves the house, bareheaded, and goes out to feed the stock,
When the frost is on the punkin and the fodder’s in the shock.

They’s something kindo’ harty-like about the atmusfere
When the heat of summer’s over and the coolin’ fall is here—
Of course we miss the flowers, and the blossums on the trees,
And the mumble of the hummin’-birds and buzzin’ of the bees;
But the air’s so appetizin’; and the landscape through the haze
Of a crisp and sunny morning of the airly autumn days
Is a pictur’ that no painter has the colorin’ to mock—
When the frost is on the punkin and the fodder’s in the shock.

The husky, rusty russel of the tossels of the corn,
And the raspin’ of the tangled leaves, as golden as the morn;
The stubble in the furries—kindo’ lonesome-like, but still
A-preachin’ sermuns to us of the barns they growed to fill;
The strawstack in the medder, and the reaper in the shed;
The hosses in theyr stalls below—the clover over-head!—
O, it sets my hart a-clickin’ like the tickin’ of a clock,
When the frost is on the punkin and the fodder’s in the shock!

Then your apples all is gethered, and the ones a feller keeps
Is poured around the celler-floor in red and yeller heaps;
And your cider-makin’s over, and your wimmern-folks is through
With their mince and apple-butter, and theyr souse and saussage, too! …
I don’t know how to tell it—but ef sich a thing could be
As the Angels wantin’ boardin’, and they’d call around on me—
I’d want to ’commodate ’em—all the whole-indurin’ flock—
When the frost is on the punkin and the fodder’s in the shock.

The seasons have often been used as a metaphor for life… and some say fall is middle age. So far it is the season of living I have loved best and when I have grown most. Soon comes winter; the time of sweaters and jackets and scarves and gloves. Clothes not worn in six months will feel new again. For me autumn is a time of joy beyond explanation and I am grateful for every red, yellow and gold moment of it.

How beautifully leaves grow old.
How full of light and color are their last days.
John Burroughs

A Beautiful Fall Morning of Contrasting Clouds and Sun

/ James Browning

Every morning is a fresh beginning. Every day is the world made new. Today is a new day. Today is my world made new. I have lived all my life up to this moment, to come to this day. This moment – this day – is as good as any moment in all eternity. I shall make of this day – each moment of this day – a heaven on earth. This is my day of opportunity. Dan Custer.

you are equal to all others;
some may have greater talents and power
where you are lacking
but you are greater in areas
where they cannot go.
do not stop your own growth and progression
by trying to emulate… or follow… anyone.
step out with courage
develop all that you are meant to be
look for new experiences….
meet new people
learn to add all new dimensions
to your present and future
you are one of a kind….
equal to every other person
accept that fact
live it… use it… stand tall
in belief of who you are
reach for the highest accomplishment
touch it… grasp it…
know it is within your ability
live to win in life
and you will.
Diane Westlake

The words of Custer and Westlake are just what I needed this morning to be reminded of the great gift today is and how perfectly imperfect, yet extraordinarily capable I am. Those thoughts are sweetened by knowing this is Sunday; a day off work and a beautiful fall morning of contrasting clouds and sun. My life is deeply rich and when I take the time to notice its fullness I become humbly grateful.

The unthankful heart discovers no mercies;
but the thankful heart will find, in every hour,
some heavenly blessings.
Henry Ward Beecher

As One Might Make An Offering

/ James Browning

There are mornings like today where specific inspiration for writing of my gratitude is outside my grasp. On those days I seek out a favorite writer or a poem dear or else seek out something I have not read before. On some occasions I try my hand at verse. How quickly rhyming words come or how laborious the task feels tells me how clear my thoughts are. Today in my books I found two poems I had not read before and eight lines of poetry fell together for me in minutes. As one might make an offering at the foot of an altar, I lay these are your feet today in hopes they are of good use to you.

“Mystery” by Kenneth L. Patton
Only those who do not know
where’s the home of mystery
look outside the day to day
you and I and all can see.
Mystery is in our minds
hid behind the quiet thought,
under feet, upon our tongues,
anywhere it is not sought.
Mystery is not outside,
But inside the ears and eyes,
in the clasping of the hand
in our unsurprised surprise.
Mystery, bold on the top,
out upon the ample air
hides itself successfully
just by being everywhere.

“If I Knew You & You Knew Me” by Nixon Waterman
If I knew you and you knew me,
If both of us could clearly see,
And with an inner sight divine,
The meaning of your heart and mine,
I’m sure that we would differ less,
And clasp our hands in friendliness;
Our thoughts would pleasantly agree,
If I knew you and you knew me.

“We Want” by James Browning
We want to know the unknowable,
To see what can’t ever be seen.
We want to hide from high and low
With only joy; no sadness in between.
Like flapping arms expecting to fly,
We run through life mindlessly fast,
Pretending sincerely we won’t die,
But only for our time do we last.

This line appears on my screen as the first gaggle of honking geese go flying over my home signaling the certainty of the change of seasons. So much I have to be grateful for, but at this moment I chose to express only two: 1) my thankfulness for great writers that have inspired me since I was a child; 2) the cooler days of fall are here. To openly be grateful for a thing or two makes me feel full of life as I embrace the new day.

I’m not young enough to know everything
J.M.Barrie