What really matters

Even Longer…

/ James Browning

Pooh-and-Piglet

If nobody smiled and nobody cheered and nobody helped us along,
If each every minute looked after himself and good things all went to the strong,
If nobody cared just a little for you, and nobody thought about me,
And we stood all alone to the battle of life, what a dreary old world it would be!

If there were no such a thing as a flag in the sky as a symbol of comradeship here,
If we lived as the animals live in the woods, with nothing held sacred or dear,
And selfishness ruled us from birth to the end, and never a neighbor had we,
And never we gave to another in need, what a dreary old world it would be!

Oh, if we were rich as the richest on earth and strong as the strongest that lives,
Yet never we knew the delight and the charm of the smile which the other man gives,
If kindness were never a part of ourselves, though we owned all the land we could see,
And friendship meant nothing at all to us here, what a dreary old world it would be!

Life is sweet just because of the friends we have made
and the things which in common we share;
We want to live on not because of ourselves, but because of the people who care;
It’s giving and doing for somebody else–on that all life’s splendor depends,
And the joy of this world, when you’ve summed it all up, is found in the making of friends.
“The Making Of Friends” by Edgar A. Guest

Yesterday morning I woke with a realization that brought almost instant regret. Several times through the previous day, I tried to make a mental note to call a dear friend who was about to have surgery. My intention was simple; to say I hope all goes as planned, to wish her well and say I care.

The dreadful feeling of my first thoughts of yesterday were akin to, “What if something should happen and I never get to see her again.” And there was some self-bashing going on like “How could I be so insensitive and forget to touch base with her.”

The good news is my friend came through the surgery just fine. She is suffering some with pain and discomfort, but should be just fine given time. I know she will tell me it’s okay that I had a mental slip and didn’t call. And she will mean it because she truly is my friend.

Once middle-age arrives one has been given repeated reminders to express feelings to someone while you can. All too often a person who was just fine today is gone tomorrow. The chance evaporates and regret becomes something carried forward.

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

So P., my dear friend, I am sorry I did not talk to you before your surgery. I apologize and thank you for your understanding. Please know you have a special place in my heart and I am grateful that we stumbled into each other’s life and became friends.

“We’ll be Friends Forever,
won’t we, Pooh?’ asked Piglet.
“Even longer”, Pooh answered.
From “Winnie-the-Pooh”
by A.A. Milne,

The Burdens of Another

/ James Browning

686786-car-for-a-homeI was driving home from a meeting this evening about 5, stuck in traffic on Colorado Blvd., and the car started to choke and splutter and die – I barely managed to coast, cursing, into a gas station, glad only that I would not be blocking traffic and would have a somewhat warm spot to wait for the tow truck. It wouldn’t even turn over. Before I could make the call, I saw a woman walking out of the “quickie mart ” building, and it looked like she slipped on some ice and fell into a Gas pump, so I got out to see if she was okay

When I got there, it looked more like she had been overcome by sobs than that she had fallen; she was a young woman who looked really haggard with dark circles under her eyes. She dropped something as I helped her up, and I picked it up to give it to her. It was a nickel. At that moment, everything came into focus for me: the crying woman, the ancient Suburban crammed full of stuff with 3 kids in the back (1 in a car seat), and the gas pump reading $4.95.

I asked her if she was okay and if she needed help, and she just kept saying ” don’t want my kids to see me crying,” so we stood on the other side of the pump from her car. She said she was driving to California and that things were very hard for her right now. So I asked, “And you were praying?” That made her back away from me a little, but I assured her I was not a crazy person and said, “He heard you, and He sent me.”

I took out my card and swiped it through the card reader on the pump so she could fill up her car completely, and while it was fuelling, walked to the next door McDonald’s and bought 2 big bags of food, some gift certificates for more, and a big cup of coffee. She gave the food to the kids in the car, who attacked it like wolves, and we stood by the pump eating fries and talking a little.

She told me her name, and that she lived in Kansas City Her boyfriend left 2 months ago and she had not been able to make ends meet. She knew she wouldn’t have money to pay rent Jan 1, and finally in desperation had finally called her parents, with whom she had not spoken in about 5 years. They lived in California and said she could come live with them and try to get on her feet there. So she packed up everything she owned in the car. She told the kids they were going to California for Christmas, but not that they were going to live there.

I gave her my gloves, a little hug and said a quick prayer with her for safety on the road. As I was walking over to my car, she said, “So, are you like an angel or something?” This definitely made me cry. I said, “Sweetie, at this time of year angels are really busy, so sometimes God uses regular people.”

It was so incredible to be a part of someone else’s miracle. And of course, you guessed it, when I got in my car it started right away and got me home with no problem. I’ll put it in the shop tomorrow to check, but I suspect the mechanic won’t find anything wrong. Sometimes the angels fly close enough to you that you can hear the flutter of their wings…

That story has made the rounds for years now. It was touching the time I first saw it although I had no idea if it was true or not. This morning a friend saw fit to place it in my ‘in-box’. Being moved again by the tale, I searched on-line for its validity and surprisingly found the story may be true. For instance, snopes.com called it “undetermined” but noted that a spokesperson for Hospice of Metro Denver indicated “one of its doctors was the author”.

Even with all the imposters, panhandlers and crooks working to fleece people of their money, I still believe there are a few who are honest who deserve help. Just last weekend a friend and I were approached by a man with a sob story about an injured child. Usually I don’t give such people any money, but this time I took a chance with $5 telling the man “if you’re dishonest and just working me for money, shame on you. It’ll be your bad karma.” My intentions were pure and good. Ultimately that is all that matters. I am grateful for my soft and caring heart.

No one is useless in this world
who lightens the burdens of another.
Charles Dickens

My Imperfectly Human Best

/ James Browning

1043876_210391202449050_1194153786_nNow that my physical youth is mostly gone, it’s interesting to read what others wrote while young. Usually at the time a youthful writer puts down their thoughts with the belief that his or her vantage point can only be understood by someone about the same age. I once thought that but I was wrong. Much of my writing when I was in my teens and 20’s is remarkably still true here in my 50’s.

If you’re young you’ll find the following by an unknown writer to be quite meaningful I suspect. If you’re older, I have little doubt you’ll relate to what follows as I did. It reminds me that what was once felt as a young person, is still very much alive inside me today.

…at some point, you’re gonna sit in your bed all night and cry about everything that’s happened to you that day. you’re gonna have a day where everything goes perfect. nothing is ever going to go as it’s planned. you’re going to have a best friend then find out that they talk s#it about you behind your back. you’re going to meet the most amazing person in the world, fall in love, and then get left behind and forgotten about a month later. you’re going to go on vacation and miss everything about it when you leave. you’re going to have the best day of your life. you’re going to have moments where you feel like nothing could bring down and everything is perfect. you’re going to go to parties, and get taken advantage of. you’re going to get drunk and say something that you regret saying. you’re going to have someone who you share everything with, then slowly fade away from each other and eventually never talk again. you’re going to take pictures and think “what was I thinking?” a year later. you’re going to go on the most amazing trip and meet the most amazing people ever and then never talk to or see them again. you’re going to fall in and out of love. you’re going to tell someone something and it’s going to spread around. you’re going to read something that breaks your heart, but you can’t stop reading it over and over. you’re going to miss someone everyday but not do anything about it. you’re going to have awkward moments where you see someone and remember everything you’ve been through together. you’re going to be a bitch [bastard] to someone but not realize how much it affected them. you’re going to have to act like you don’t care when really, you’re heart-broken. you’re going to kiss people and regret it later. you’re going to miss a lot. don’t slow down. don’t have regrets. don’t live in the future. live for right now. smile. you’re young. and only getting older. don’t let anyone stop you.

The person I was at five, fifteen, twenty-five, thirty-five, forty-five and fifty-five years of age is still very much within me. Life has molded me into a composite of all my ages. There is enough insight gained to know the secret to some measure of contentment is to hold on tightly to the good and let go of the bad as quickly as possible. My silent motto is “learn what is to be learned and move on”. Doing my imperfectly human best at that, my heart, mind and soul has become filled with a wealth of wisdom. Life is still hard, but it is good. I am grateful to realize what matters most is inside me and nowhere else.

Knowledge is like an endless resource;
a well of water that satisfies the innate thirst
of the growing human soul.
Therefore never stop learning…
because the day you do,
you will also stop maturing.
Chidi Okonkwo

Make Some Difference

/ James Browning

peopleonbeach

Like most people there have been times when I have wondered why I am here and what difference my life makes. While dreams of doing something that could positively change the life of many people all at once are largely gone, I have instead become content to know here and there for one or two people at a time I have made a difference. Each occasion has meaning to a very few, but combined together the small gifts of myself amount to something fairly substantial.

Once upon a time, there was a wise man who used to go to the ocean to do his writing. He had a habit of walking on the beach before he began his work.

One day, as he was walking along the shore, he looked down the beach and saw a human figure moving like a dancer. He smiled to himself at the thought of someone who would dance to the day, and so, he walked faster to catch up.

As he got closer, he noticed that the figure was that of a young man, and that what he was doing was not dancing at all. The young man was reaching down to the shore, picking up small objects, and throwing them into the ocean.

He came closer still and called out “Good morning! May I ask what it is that you are doing?”

The young man paused, looked up, and replied “Throwing starfish into the ocean.”

“I must ask, then, why are you throwing starfish into the ocean?” asked the somewhat startled wise man.

To this, the young man replied, “The sun is up and the tide is going out. If I don’t throw them in, they’ll die.”

Upon hearing this, the wise man commented, “But, young man, do you not realize that there are miles and miles of beach and there are starfish all along every mile? You can’t possibly make a difference!”

At this, the young man bent down, picked up yet another starfish, and threw it into the ocean. As it met the water, he said, “It made a difference for that one.” Loren Eiseley

No monuments will be created in my honor. No books will be written about my life. No movies will feature the path I have walked. To hoards of people I will always be nameless, faceless and unknown. But to a handful who took the time to truly know me I hope your existence is better for allowing me to be a part of your life.

My life is better for the people who have helped me learn, grow and heal. Though they be unknown to most, I am deeply grateful for those who cared enough to stop and help while others passed by hardly noticing me, if at all.

The purpose of life is not to be happy.
It is to be useful, to be honorable, to be compassionate,
to have it make some difference that you have lived
and lived well.
Ralph Waldo Emerson

Gratefulness Is Happiness

/ James Browning

gratitude and happiness

Surprise, surprise: gratitude actually feels good. Yet only 20% of Americans rate gratitude as a positive and constructive emotion (compared to 50% of Europeans). According to gratitude researcher Robert Emmons, gratitude is just happiness that we recognize after-the fact to have been caused by the kindness of others. Gratitude doesn’t just make us happier, it is happiness in and of itself!  http://happierhuman.com/benefits-of-gratitude/

Sorry to burst anyone’s bubble, but if you’re unhappy a good bit of the cause is a lack of gratitude. Being focused on what one wishes was different brings nothing but turmoil and dissatisfaction.

So you want to be happier? Then look deeper into life and see all you have to be grateful for. Over time I have seen the truth of how gratefulness brings IS happiness. What a life changer!

Do not spoil what you have
by desiring what you have not;
remember that what you now have
was once among the things
you only hoped for.
Epicurus

Three Thoughts for Monday

/ James Browning

crossroads-signHere and there I come across another writer’s words and find they say exactly what I wanted to say. To go any further and use my own words would at best be redundant, or more likely only a pale semblance of my actual thoughts. So here at a major crossroads of my life are three quotes by Anne Lamott that express my feelings clearly.

It’s funny: I always imagined when I was a kid that adults had some kind of inner toolbox full of shiny tools: the saw of discernment, the hammer of wisdom, the sandpaper of patience. But then when I grew up I found that life handed you these rusty bent old tools – friendships, prayer, conscience, honesty – and said ‘do the best you can with these, they will have to do’. And mostly, against all odds, they do.

You will lose someone you can’t live without, and your heart will be badly broken, and the bad news is that you never completely get over the loss of your beloved. But this is also the good news. They live forever in your broken heart that doesn’t seal back up. And you come through. It’s like having a broken leg that never heals perfectly—that still hurts when the weather gets cold, but you learn to dance with the limp.

In the first quote I am reminded that doing the best with what I have is all there is. The second one explains why past love is so indelibly stamped on my heart. And now a third quote from Anne Lamott is a help fending off my tendency toward perfectionism.

Clutter and mess show us that life is being lived…Tidiness makes me think of held breath, of suspended animation… Perfectionism is a mean, frozen form of idealism, while messes are the artist’s true friend. What people somehow forgot to mention when we were children was that we need to make messes in order to find out who we are and why we are here.

Anne Lamott is an American novelist and non-fiction writer
and a progressive political activist, public speaker
and writing teacher based in the Bay Area of Northern California.

Brave Again

/ James Browning

boy-peeing

My path was clouded and I was lost for so long I did not notice it. I lost the freedom to just “be” and the natural spontaneity I was born with; from feeling free in a magical world to becoming inhibited, guarded and restricted. Where before was only wonder and happiness, the shadow of fear and worry joined in.

The change of outlook happened in early childhood but exactly when and where I can’t come up with. There came a time then when I thought more about what I did not want than what I hoped for. My mind became clouded with wanting to grow up, escape and get away rather than where I wanted to go, what I wanted to do and having any sort of intentional direction. I just wanted to be a “big boy”. In adulthood it was dreadful to be adrift for so many years and not know it; to be unconsciously searching for what I already had but was oblivious to.

When you are born…

your courage is new and clean.

You are brave enough for anything:

crawling off of staircases,

saying your first words without fearing
that someone will think you are foolish,

putting strange things in your mouth.

But as you get older,

your courage attracts gunk,
and crusty things, and dirt, and fear,

and knowing how bad things can get

and what pain feels like.

By the time you’re half-grown,

your courage barely moves at all,

it’s so grunged up with living.

So every once in a while,

you have to scrub it up

and get the works going,

or else you’ll never be brave again.

From “The Girl Who Circumnavigated Fairyland in a Ship of Her Own Making”
 by Catherynne M. Valente

In trying “to find myself” I became lost in the fogged-up maze of the ‘real-world’.  And it’s no wonder. From my perception my “self” was hidden like a unnoticed parrot resting on my shoulder; one making sounds that were perceived distant, yet so close I looked right by them.

Once I began to focus nearby, I started to see what was hidden in plain sight. What I discovered was not all wonderful and pleasing, but it was real. In discovering the child I had lost, my courage began to return. I was in a sense, truly reborn. The crust, dirt and fear on my soul became thinner as I explored inward. I became brave again. To have relocated the courage of a little boy and a sense of wonder, amazement and beauty that goes with it I am deeply grateful.

You often meet your fate
on the road
you take to avoid it.
 Goldie Hawn

Home Sweet Home

/ James Browning

good-morning-my-dear-flickr-friends_l

There are stories from the American Civil War before a battle when the soldiers of one side would begin to sing and the opposing arm would then join in from the distance. Singing “Home Sweet Home” in unison was said by many who fought to be one of the few good memories of the great conflict.

Mid pleasures and palaces though we may roam,
Be it ever so humble there’s no place like home!
A charm from the skies seems to hallow us there,
Which, seek through the world, is ne’er met with elsewhere.

I gaze on the moon as I tread the drear wild
And feel that my mother now thinks of her child
As she looks on the moon from our own cottage door
Through the woodbine whose fragrance shall cheer me no more.

An exile from home splendor dazzles in vain
Oh, give me my low, thatched cottage again,
The birds singing gaily that come at my call,
Give me them with that peace of mind, dearer than all.

How sweet ’tis to sit ‘neath a fond father’s smile,
And the cares of a mother to soothe and beguile.
Let others delight ‘mid new pleasures to roam,
But give me, oh give me the pleasures of home.

To thee I’ll return overburdened with care,
The hearts dearest solace will smile on me there
No more from that cottage again will I roam,
Be it ever so humble, there’s no place like home.

Home! Home! sweet, sweet Home!
There’s no place like Home!
by John Howard Payne, 1823

Dearly I love to travel, but even more  I love coming home after a satisfying journey! I was just away on for a long weekend filled with more fun and joy than I have experienced in a long time exceeded only by the good felt walking through my front door last night. I am grateful to be able to travel and even more to have a home to come home to that I enjoy so much .

How often have I lain beneath
rain on a strange roof,
thinking of home.
William Faulkner

Photo credit: Denis Collette…!!! / Foter.com / CC BY-NC-ND

Undisturbed Calmness

/ James Browning

Public domain image, royalty free stock photo from www.public-domain-image.com

Inherently there are only two states of being:
1. A state of inner wholeness
2. A state of inner incompleteness

This state of inner incompleteness starts developing the moment your focus became identified totally with the physical, specifically with the mind – usually by the age of 4. You get identified with the narrow, label based, identity created by the mind – what is called the “ego structure”. The ego structure by itself is not a problem, and serves a practical purpose in allowing a meaningful physical experience, but when you become totally identified with it, your perception of yourself becomes very intensely narrow.  [W]hen your state of being is one of inner incompleteness…

– You feel needy of approval from outside and many times your actions are influenced from this place of needing someone’s approval of you.

– There is an element of “craving” that’s always present in your being because of the delusion that some manifestation/experience will make you feel whole permanently.

– You sense momentary peace now and then, in your being, subject to some external outcomes but this peace is soon clouded by the feeling of incompleteness

– There is a constant background of unease/frustration/irritation within you which you constantly blame the outside for

The stronger your identification with the ego… the narrower your awareness becomes, and the more incompleteness you sense within yourself. The physical realm does not have the capacity to take you to permanent wholeness because by its very design it’s a “temporary” realm and is subject to constant change, dissolution and impermanence…

Total identification with the mind’s ego structure, and its consequential negativity, created the sense of incompleteness, and a movement of “dis-identification” with the momentum of the mind takes you back to your original wholeness.

Don’t try to imagine what this place would feel like. The mind, as usual, has the tendency to associate “extra ordinary” ideas about this state of being. It may imagine that this state feels like some constant trip of exhilaration or an unending high or some blissed out state, like what you get out of a drug – but all these are “excited” states, that are temporary and fleeting, what I call surface level ripples on your being.

If you have such imaginations, you will end up running into some unending pursuit without ever resting in the ordinariness of your being. Wholeness is very ordinary, it’s very simple, and it does not come with any bursting lights and sounds, it’s the undisturbed calmness inherent to the space that you are. Take from a blog written by “Sen” http://www.calmdownmind.com/do-you-feel-whole-within-yourself/

When I can take myself “out of gear” is when truth overrules logic. I used to believe that what was true and what was logical was the same thing. No more. Now I understand that logic is only “principles of proof” while truth is fact or reality. Logic is only a construct of the mind and a companion of inner incompleteness. Truth is undeniable and where inner wholeness is rooted. I am grateful to understand the difference and know wholeness begins with acceptance of what “is”.

Become totally empty
Quiet the restlessness of the mind
Only then will you witness everything
unfolding from emptiness.
Lao Tzu

An Excellant Practice

/ James Browning

Mad Hatter_9_1I woke up not knowing who I was and where I was. For the first fifteen minutes it was a frightening experience. The mirror in the bathroom bounced back to me the image of a stranger and a face I did not recognize. I surveyed the reflection: middle-aged, thinning hair, four-day whiskers more white than dark, about twenty pounds over weight, but seemingly in good physical condition otherwise. Who the hell is that?

Feeling thirsty I went to the kitchen, but stood there not knowing what to do. What did I like? Coffee, tea, juice… I had no idea if I preferred one over the other. Cigarettes were on the table. Did I smoke? Beer was in the fridge and vodka was in the freezer. Did I like to drink? I wasn’t able or willing to make any decisions so I got a glass of water and left the room confused.

Maybe I could find out something about myself by going outside. Quickly I went to the bedroom where in an open closet shirts, shorts and pants were hung. None looked familiar and it was difficult to make a choice. So I just reached out and choose what ever my hand touched first: blue shorts and a tan t-shirt.

Walking through the front door onto the porch “where the hell am I” echoed back and forth in my head. What was before me was beautiful, but unnerving. Standing stunned looking toward the sunrise the ocean glistened and glinted with splintered reflections of light. Far left and right I could see other modest cottages like the one I woke within, but none closer than a quarter-mile.

The morning was pleasant with a cool, comfortable breeze. The back and forth of the waves coming and going created a rhythm that joined with the beauty all around to began to calm me. I didn’t know who or where I was… but I liked the spot I found myself in.

Barefooted I walked to where sea and sand met and began plodding slowly down the beach. No one was in sight.There were no other signs of life in the first twenty minutes of daylight I found myself within, unencumbered by memories of the past or thoughts of the future.

There were no worries. I had no regrets. My hopes were nonspecific and dreams were such vague notions having any at all went unnoticed. I felt love and loved, yet knew not who or by whom. I felt alone, so very alone but at ease with it. As I walked down the beach with the morning sunlight from the horizon hitting me was beginning to feel good, even natural.

I walked and walked until I could not see myself any more. Wait a minute. I am the one watching me walk and the one doing the walking? I must be going crazy or something… What’s happening? Where am I? Who am I? What am I doing here? The storm of thoughts that I had awakened with began to swirl again as I raised up in bed to find I had been dreaming.

Dreaming?!? It felt so real. After the initial fear and confusion seeing myself walk down the beach/walking down the beach was one of the most peaceful feelings I have ever had. It was in that sleepy moment the realization came strong and profound: losing myself completely can sometimes be the most freeing experience I can have. Only then can I see back, forward, down and up without my thoughts being clouded by past, present, who I am, have been and desire to be.

How light I felt: Whole. Complete. Filled with hope and wonder. Connected to all my eyes saw and to what I could sense but not see. No regrets. I was complete just as I was.

In the losing of myself, for just a little while as I moved from subconscious awareness to reality, I felt fully whole. The dream and the accompanying epiphany carved a substantial amount of consciousness upon me that I will use as a reference point in the future. I am grateful to have learned respect for feeling lost, left out and completely alone. There it is possible to come to know some of the most clear perceptions about being alive.

The Mad Hatter: Have I gone mad?
Alice Kingsley: I’m afraid so. You’re entirely bonkers. But I’ll tell you a secret. All the best people are.

Alice Kingsley: Sometimes I believe in as many as six impossible things before breakfast.
The Mad Hatter: That is an excellent practice.

From “Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland” Lewis Carroll.