Wisdom

Road to Self-Acceptance

/ James Browning / 1 Comment

A perspective of youth:    The more things change, the more they stay the same. I’m not sure who the first person was who said that. Probably Shakespeare. Or maybe Sting. But at the moment, it’s the sentence that best explains my tragic flaw: my inability to change.

I don’t think I’m alone in this. The more I get to know other people, the more I realize it’s everyone’s flaw. Staying exactly the same as long as possible, standing perfectly still… It feels better somehow. And if you are suffering, at least the pain is familiar. Because if you took the leap of faith, went outside the box, did something unexpected… Who knows what other pain might be waiting out there. Chances are it could be even worse. So you maintain the status quo. Choose the road already traveled and it doesn’t seem that bad. Not as far as flaws go. You’re not killing anyone… except maybe yourself a little.

When we finally do change, I don’t think it happens like an earthquake or an explosion, where all of a sudden we’re like this different person. I think it’s smaller than that. The kind of thing most people wouldn’t even notice unless they look at us really, really close. Which, thank God, they never do. But you notice it. Inside you that change feels like a world of difference. And you hope this is it. This is the person you get to be forever… that you’ll never have to change again.  (Insightfully written by Everwood)

Taking in again the meaning of the thoughts above while retyping them I find myself feeling OK with, and even thankful for my quandaries about my own personal change.   Frequently I have brutalized my self for an inability to be what it was I thought I should be.  Not infrequently such musings have focused on things that hardly mattered a month later. 

There is much I can complain about concerning getting older.  Yet the passing of years have allowed me to become wiser and to find less to be unhappy about.  As there is less discontentment the easier change seems to come.  There is something about loosening my grip on everything the way it is, the more life becomes the way I want it to be.  Yes, I have unfulfilled plans, goals, hopes and dreams, but they are not the heavy obsessions I once labored under.  Now such desires are more like coins tossed in a wishing fountain with faith such things can happen.  Figuratively, as I toss them into the water I let the wishes go keeping a hope the wish might come back to me manifested one day.  Often a wish is about a change I want to make within or about my self.   I know all my wishes won’t come true, but many of them can if my desire is sincere, my need is consistent and I am willing to bear the discomfort of change. 

On one hand maintaining the status quo can become very easy as I have made it to middle age.  Change can become my enemy if I allow it to.  Or change can be my great friend.  By a person’s 40’s and 50’s either he or she is either completely stuck and will slowly fade into oblivion with age just as they are.  Or else, he or she realizes time is precious and earnest change becomes much more possible, even mandatory.  Either a person just evaporates slowly or realization hits one upside the head with thoughts like:  “you don’t have forever… get moving if you want to accomplish what you promised yourself to do… you can change if you truly want to… gain takes pain so don’t fear it… you can do it…” and so on.

The last five years have been the hardest and most painful of my life.  At the same time the last half decade has also been my most insightful and wisdom producing period.  The thinking for most of my days has been an uncertainty if I was happy, but felt at least I was not unhappy.  Those thoughts have changed in recent times to where frequently I say with a smile “I’m happy”.  Some of that knowing comes from real personal change and coming to grips with old tragedy and heartache.  However the majority does not come from change, but rather from acceptance of my self and living better the live that I have.

Plainly, I have discovered the major culprit causing dissatisfaction and discomfort in my life:  ME!  That epiphany did not suddenly cure, fix or change anything specific except my attitude and view of things.  And with that simple adjustment, my life now has wonder and possibility I did not see before.  I’m a very grateful man for that slow to come and difficult, but simple insight. 

It doesn’t matter what we do until we accept ourselves. Once we accept ourselves, it doesn’t matter what we do.  Charly Heavenrich

100 Last Words

/ James Browning / 5 Comments

Yesterday in conversation with a friend about writing this blog, I was asked how long I had been doing it.  My response was “one hundred and twenty two days… a third of a year”.  The person then questioned “you’ve done it every single day?” to which my response was “yes” spoken with a sense of accomplishment. 

I appreciated my friend’s interest and our discussion ended with a sort of challenge.  Having only seen a few of the daily postings, she asked how long most were and I said usually around 750-1000 words.  Then her challenge came:  What would you leave behind if you had only 100 words and you knew it would be the last you’d write for your son to find.  In general my comment was I’d try to leave great advice for living, but had no specifics except “live well, love deeply and be grateful”.    

Throughout yesterday, on and off, I thought about my friend’s question.  Notes were made and I searched for inspiration, sayings and things of the sort.  The list got longer and longer and longer with the difficult part coming last night when I edited down to the essence of what I would want to leave behind for my son.  Here is what I ended up with:

You come to love not by finding the perfect person, but by seeing an imperfect person perfectly. (17 words)

Gratitude is riches. Complaint is poverty.  (6 words)

There are two ways to live your life – one is as though nothing is a miracle, the other is as though everything is a miracle.  (25 words) 

Laugh your heart out.
Dance in the rain.
Cherish the moment.
Ignore the pain.
Live, laugh, love,
Forgive and forget
Life’s too short to be
Living with regrets.
(28 words) 

The richest man is not he who has the most, but he who needs the least. (16 words) 

I love you. I am proud of you. (8 words) 

Total words = 100

(In order, thoughts above are by Sam Keen, Doris Day, Albert Einstein, Unknown, Unknown, me) 

Yesterday in our little talk that originated the 100 word challenge, my friend was interested to know why I began goodmorninggratitude.com and where the inspiration came from.  My answer was I had no specific idea, but know the motivation came in large part from beyond my ability to explain.  Call it divine inspiration or what ever, but one day I woke up on a Saturday morning and knew for certain I had to do it.  Having never done a blog before, I did the homework to learn how, signed up at wordpress.com and on Monday morning, April 25, I began.   Now four months later… here I am.

Today writing blog #122 I am struck with a feeling of intense gratitude to all who find meaning in what I write here.  Hundreds now coming by daily to check out my ramblings is a humbling motivator to continue to share my thoughts every day.   I am appreciative of every reader whether this is your only visit or you frequently stop by.  Thank you for your support!

Gratitude is the fairest blossom which springs from the soul.
Henry Ward Beecher

“Superb Disputer”

/ James Browning / 3 Comments

Late last week a friend made a negative comment about how I was handling something at work.  Initially the feeling was he was right and I was not managing properly.  What I heard irritated me and I cut short the phone conversation.   From the spark of a though I got from him my mind began adding more non-flattering commenting of its own.  This continued until I was feeling pretty rotten.  I doubted myself and my ability. 

After having my friend’s thought kick around in my head for several days, I concluded he had an incorrect view of things.  Yet, for at least two days I was beating myself up and coming around to his way of thinking although I really did not agree.  To make it worse, I was piling on a bunch of my own negative thinking to what was said.  Combined, it all left me feeling lousy.  

While not always well-practiced, I learned a while ago that my world without is but a reflection of my world within.    My thoughts create the conditions my mind imagines.  Had I continued to accept what was said to me, I would have been misleading myself down a false path.  Realizing I had started doing just that walk was a wakeup call to remember to use something I know about call “superb disputing”.     

“Superb disputing” is a skill that everyone has, but is more apt to use when OTHERS accuse us wrongly.  Like any other skill, it is keenest when used regularly.  When not well-practiced, the skill can take a while to kick in as it just recently did with me.  

“Supurb Disputing “is an effective tool for inwardly sorting out my own thinking.  All I need to do is remind myself that I have a lot of control over what I think.  From experience I know I can sort my thoughts into ones worthy of further attention and the ones that are garbage and proceed accordingly. I just have to not forget I know how to do this. 

For example, I know if a friend tells me I am a lousy employee or bad father I can marshal evidence against the accusation and fire it back at him or her if I choose.  What is most important is that I know, even if I never speak a word of that knowledge to anyone else.  

How well I remember the days when I was almost completely lost in my thinking.  I believed my thoughts were “me”.  It was not that long ago when I made all sorts of negative accusations to myself, about myself many times a day.  Things were common like being headed into a party thinking “I have nothing to say.  Now one is going to like me.  Or I look terrible”…and so on.   

When negative accusations came from inside me, once upon a time I treated them mostly as if they were absolute truth.  It took a long time and consist work to realize the automatic pessimistic thoughts I had about myself were just as irrational as the ravings of a jealous rival or a well intended, but mistaken friend. 

I had to learn that unconstructive thoughts about my self do not necessarily originate in hard fact and often come from criticisms from my past.  Sometime from ones made by a parent in anger, abuse from others, a mean teacher, mocking from other kids and all sorts of life experiences, all absorbed passively.  My thoughts are frequently only my conditioned responses learned previously, mostly while growing up.   

With just a little discipline I can be a “superb disputer” of these untrue thoughts about myself.  When I look closely I often realize much of what I think about myself is utter BS and nonsense.  The process of “disputing”  helps me to stop paying attention to that type of thought.  I know I can not completely stop my mind from thinking what it will, but whether I pay lots of attention or little attention to those mental ramblings is my choice.  

Frequently I do get good and accurate input from friends and appreciate their caring very much.  However, they are not always right.  Right or wrong, today I am thankful for what my friend said.  It was a catalyst for a reawakening of a life skill .  This morning there is much gratitude for the wake-up call and being reminded to dust off my ability as a “superb disputer”.  

Our doubts are traitors, and make us lose the good we oft might win, by fearing to attempt.  William Shakespeare

Talent, Compassion, and Honor

/ James Browning / 1 Comment

There is an old fable about a young man who inherits three locked treasure chests from his father.  

One was a heavy chest marked “Talents” and was filled with ability, gold and jewels.  With it could be bought all in the world. 

The second treasure chest was even heavier and marked “Compassion”.  It was filled with magic rings that when worn, would let him feel the emotions of another. 

The third treasure chest was marked “Honor”.  It was the largest and heaviest of the three treasure chests but the contents were a mystery.   

There were two keys given to the young man.  One key was to open the chest marked “Talents” and the other was for the chest marked “Compassion”.  The instructions that came with the keys said that “Talents” and “Compassion” were meant to be used.  There was no key to the third chest and the instructions said “Honor” was a thing too easily squandered.  To have the contents of that chest the young man must find his own key. 

As the story unfolds the young man goes out into the world and uses the chest of “Talents” wisely and carefully.  Each time he did he was given a parcel of land until in time he came to possess the entire world. 

Now owning the world, the young man turned to the chest called “Compassion”.  One at a time he put the magic rings on his fingers so he could understand the hopes and fears of all the people in his world.  He became a great ruler and champion of justice. 

For the third box marked “Honor” the young man tried and tried to find a key to open the chest.  He ordered his people to find a key to open it.  None did.  Many offered to break into the chest for him, but he always refused saying violence was not a key to honor.  

After many, many years the now old man said to his people “I have not found the key to “Honor” and I can not rule this world or the hearts of the people without it.  So he began to give away what he had gained through his use the chests of “Talents” and “Compassion”.  He gave every person a piece of land and a magic ring until he had given everything away.  

Then the old man thought to himself  my “Talents” are gone and my “Compassion” is spent.  I have nothing to give to my son except this chest I can not open.  With that thought, to his amazement the lock on the chest called “Honor” suddenly fell off.  

This is when the old man knew, Honor is not something to be spent or used, but to be kept.  The key to honor is to keep it, always, and pass it on.  He was so glad he had not given in and broken into that chest.  

With the lock off the heavy chest marked “Honor”, the aging man lifted the lid and to his amazement inside he saw two more filled and heavy chests, one marked “Talents” and the other “Compassion”.  So he took those two chests out, closed the lid on “Honor” and put the lock back on that chest.  When he did it instantly became the heaviest chest of all once again.  Then the called his son to him and said “Son, I am very old, and I want you to have these three chests…..” 

And so it has been so with me.  I went in search of money, success and fame and was blessed with all three.  I obtained them in abundance but was actually more unhappy than I had been at the start.  As I grew older, experience of living and pain from my own mistakes taught me and broke the seal on my heart.  Then I began to be much more compassionate of others.  When money, success and fame were not of great meaning to me any more and when helping others became one of my primary motivations, I began to find the honor that I had sought my entire life.

So now the tattoo on my left arm of two Chinese characters that mean “Honor” are beginning to match the man whose skin they were inked upon years ago.  It is my sincere hope that my son can see clearly what I have become and through that example encourage him to pay little attention to things I once was.  Within I feel gratitude in great quantity for the insight I have today.  And in doing so I must thank the trials and tribulations that taught me the lessons that brought me to where I am.  

Character is doing the right thing when nobody’s looking.  There are too many people who think that the only thing that’s right is to get by, and the only thing that’s wrong is to get caught.  J.C. Watts

Discovering My “Undiscovered Self”

/ James Browning / 1 Comment

In the “Undiscovered Self” Carl Jung wrote that man often remains…”an enigma to himself.  Most people confuse “self-knowledge” with knowledge of their self-conscious ego personalities.  But the ego knows only its own contents… What is commonly called “self knowledge” is therefore a very limited knowledge…”   Jung went on to say self-knowledge is possible “only when the individual is willing to fulfill the demands of rigorous self-examination”. 

I have several years now of serious introspection and rigorous self-examination. The resolute searching within began earnestly with the epiphany I could be the “me” I wished to be only by knowing better the “I” which already existed.  Having dedicated myself to shining a little light into my own darkness to discover self truth, I have learned first hand how difficult and daunting a task of self-discovery is.  My ego has fought me every step of the way and has done its best to blind me whenever it could.  This journey has been irregularily enlightening, difficult most of the time, unnerving during every step and worth every effort! 

In embracing the past my emotions and feelings released have shaken me to my core.  What I have done and what was done to me, what I have said and what was spoken to me and the pain I dealt to others and the pain received all colluded at times to “knock the breath out of me mentally and emotionally”.  But this process of allowing myself to be “broken open” has benefited me greatly.  I am grateful for the outcome, enough so, to continue to face the “demons” and “desert walks” the process requires.  Yet, the fear that is a prelude to each step to understanding is still daunting.  It is the knowledge of the reward only that is the impetus that keeps me on this path. 

I am thankful for those whose teachings I have benefited from in my growth and development.  One specific example is Elisabeth Kubler-Ross M.D., a psychiatrist who wrote the landmark book “On Death and Dying” in 1969.  While her book was originally written about terminal illness, it has accurately been applied to many forms of catastrophic personal loss such as job, freedom, divorce, death of a loved one, addiction, disease, tragedy and disaster.  My 2nd divorce was a deep personal catastrophe.  The fact I did not want it was made worse by knowing I was the majority cause of the demise of the marriage.  For me the ending was a “death” I mourned more so than any physical death I recall.

Kübler-Ross‘s work says recovering from catastrophic personal loss requires at least two of these five steps below and most will go through all five but not necessarily in order.  This process is popularly known by the acronym DABDA.

1.  Denial — “I feel fine.”; “This can’t be happening, not to me.”  Denial is usually only a temporary defense.  

2.  Anger — “Why me? It’s not fair!”; “How can this happen to me?”; ‘”Who is to blame?”  Once in the second stage, a person recognizes that denial cannot continue.  Because of anger, the person is usually very difficult to care for. 

3.  Bargaining — “I’ll do anything for a few more years.”  The third stage involves the hope that the person can somehow postpone or delay what has happened. Usually, the negotiation is made with a higher power in exchange for a reformed lifestyle.

4.  Depression — “I’m so sad, why bother with anything?”; “What’s the point?”  During the fourth stage, a person begins to understand the certainty of what has happened. It is an important time for grieving that must be processed.

5.  Acceptance — “It’s going to be okay.”; “I can’t fight it, I may as well accept it.”  In this last stage, the individual begins to come to terms with what has happened.

Personally in working past my 2nd divorce I experienced all five steps in order.  Once in a while the first four steps are still a big help in bringing me to step five (Acceptance) when I momentarily regress into denial, anger, bargaining or depression about the end of the marriage.

There has been nothing more sobering than all my self-discovery to date.  Exploring my “self” on deeper and deeper levels has been very healing and enriching for me.  Though my development can be described as a repetitive process of three steps forward and two steps backward, over time my slow growth has been steady.  Today I am more true to my self than before.  My morals, standards, needs and desires parallel themselves the closest ever in belief and deed. I am more free of what others think than I ever was previously.   While there is not always peace within, there is no longer a war going on inside.  My cup of gratitude runs over every time that realization comes to me. 

Your vision will become clear only when you look into your heart.  Who looks outside, dreams.  Who looks inside, awakens.  Carl Gustav Jung

Every Day is a Good Day

/ James Browning / 1 Comment

When someone asks “how are you doing”, what will your response be?  A frequent answer received when I ask the “how are you” question is “fine”.  I often smile to myself when I hear the “fine” response because of a meaning I learned psychologists often assign to that word. 

F = Freaked out
I = Insecure
N = Neurotic
E = Emotional

Of course, I don’t think most people really intend to impart that meaning with a “fine” response.  Rather it is usually just a reflex answer given without thought. That is if they even get a chance to answer.  It is not uncommon for the person asking the question to not expect an answer because “how are you” has become something akin to a salutation like “good morning”. 

One of the mantras often heard in recovery is “fake it until you make it” which means act like you are already where you hope to be.  When I first heard about that suggested practice I thought it sounded trite if not absolutely absurd.  I was initially convinced there was no way such a practice could help with the depression I fought from time to time.  I was wrong.  Eventually I tried it and found it works!  I discovered much of my life was painted by the emotion and mood I bathed myself in.  At first putting a better face on troubled and challenging times seemed like a waste of time.  I was encouraged to keep it up and within a few weeks pretending to be in a better mood almost always made me feel better, at least for a little while.  Slowly but surely the effect got stronger and lasted longer.     

The answer I have adopted to a greeting such as “how’s your day” is “every day is a good day, some are just better than others”.  By saying that I am not stating everything is wonderful.  Instead I simply have decided that no day is “bad”.  A challenging day?  Quite possibly!  But that does not mean it is “a bad day”.  I came to realize that each day was at least to a degree what I made of it.  

I have been amazed how my adopted response of “every day is a good day” affects other people.  It almost always seems to make people think and usually gets a positive reaction.  I have been astonished by how many people crack a smile when I say that to them.  Sometimes I end up feeling a person needed some sort of little reminder that life is ok, that it does not 100% suck and that everything will be OK.  Speaking the phrase always makes me feel even better too.  Once in a while I have said it to a person who seems to have doom and gloom as a major part of their regular persona.  My standard saying seems to confuse those folks.  I am optimistic them hearing it lends something to turn over in their mind.  I hope given time the thought takes root within and lends a glimmer of hope to their life. 

I believe my subconscious hears everything I say and, positive or negative, it is filed away in my general awareness.  If I fill my thinking with a “bad day” mentality and speak it aloud my happiness will darkens and additional gloom will get added to any heartache, difficulty and tragedy.  It is my choice to make things worse or better for myself.

Make no mistake; I have not become a bouncing off the walls, giddy and goofy “happy face” guy.  That would be delusional.  Instead I simply resist being Mr. Gloom.  I do my best to bear each of my troubles with grace and hope.  Some days it works great.  Other days it only helps a little.  But it always helps!                        

Every person fights their own life battles, endures heartache and tragedy and is challenged by life.  I figure they don’t need me to add to their wows by me dumping on them simply because they asked me how I was doing. I am aware of how another’s good or bad mood can affect my frame of mind and try hard to only put goodness into the world.  Success at that endeavor does not always come, but it is in the trying that I make things better for my self and those I come in contact with.  I am deeply grateful for this insight that improves my quality of life every single day! 

When we are no longer able to change a situation, we are challenged to change ourselves.  Viktor Frankl

Unclouded Wisdom

/ James Browning / 3 Comments

You have to get hurt. That’s how you learn. The strongest people out there, the ones who laugh the hardest with a genuine smile; those are the people who have fought the toughest battles.

Those lines come from a site kept and updated frequently by a person who identifies herself as a nineteen year-old woman from Illinois named Amber.  I accidentally stumbled across her on-line contributions last night.  While frequently her limited life experience of almost two decades shows through, she also writes with wisdom beyond her years.  Here are a few more nuggets:

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

The first step towards getting somewhere is to decide that you are not going to stay where you are.

Never stop loving someone because you never know when they might start loving you back. But if that person won’t change, wait until your heart voluntarily quits.

At times what “Amber” writes shows her age; “Don’t waste your time worrying about boys. Boys will come and go…”  That is exactly as it should be.  Nineteen should be nineteen and not a teenager going on thirty-five.    

Reading Amber’s writing was a catalyst for a clear line of thinking when I woke up today. What rings true today is there can be much wisdom in a youthful mind not yet clouded with the burden of lots of experience.  Conversely the knowledge of living many years can cause blindness and inability to see lucidly. 

I suppose it is human nature for someone in middle age to perceive they know more than someone half their age or younger.  And in many cases that would be true.  Yet, more is not necessarily better and a large quantity of stored memories can make sorting down to the essence of things difficult. 

It seemed I saw things so very clearly when I was sixteen years-old.  Maybe actually I did.  Right or wrong I certainly had great conviction about my view of things.  There was more confidence within about where I was going and what my life was going to be about.  Of course, it did not turn out that way exactly.  I do yearn sometimes for that clarity of youth for the drive it gave me.  However, stepping back a little I can see the quintessence of my youth did point me in many of the right directions.   

There are many other stories out there that prove the wisdom of a child like the one about the eight year-old boy who prayed about a pine wood derby race within his Cub Scout group.  Having made a roughly finished and plain little racer he was quite surprise to win.  His scout master asked him, “So you prayed to win, huh, Gilbert?”  To which the young man replied, “Oh, no sir. That wouldn’t be fair to ask God to help you beat someone else. I just asked Him to make it so I wouldn’t cry when I lost.”

Another story that circulates concerns the clear wisdom shown by a 6 year-old who witnessed the passing of the family pet at the veterinarian’s.  The animal was dying and in great pain.  Putting him to sleep was the humane choice made by the child’s Mom and Dad.  The parents felt it would be a good life experience for boy to witness the death with them, but were concerned about his perceptions.

The little boy seemed to accept the dog’s transition without any difficulty or confusion. Afterwards there was some talk about why dog’s lives are shorter than humans and the little boy spoke up and said “I know why.  People are born and live a long time so they can learn how to live a good life — like loving everybody all the time and being nice.  Well, dogs already know how to do that, so they don’t have to stay as long.”

Driving one day I remember my son, then four years-old and steeped in anti-drug messages from TV, saying to me “Drugs are bad.  Right Dad?” I responded “Yes they are”.  He then asked “then why are there drug stores?”  I had a most interesting time explaining and have never forgotten how clearly he saw things to have asked his question.   

Writing this causes me to make a firm promise to myself.  I will pay more attention to what children and young adults say.  I will do my best to discern between their jewels of wisdom and their childish chatter.  I will not so quickly discount their perspective simply because I think I know “more” than they do.  More is not always better.  Much is not always best.  Innocence can sometimes offer an unfettered perception of things that can’t be seen through the a corrupted view that wisdom can create. 

We worry about what a child will become tomorrow, yet we forget that he is someone today.  Stacia Tauscher

Image by Anne Geddes

Passing of Time is All in My Head

/ James Browning / 2 Comments

Short of the point of being an off-putting obsession, I have a “thing” about time.  I love clocks.  There’s at least one in every room in my home including the bathrooms. Except when I am at home on my wrist is a watch.  I am usually conscious naturally of what day it is.  If not the specific date and day, I always have a prominent date I can count from.  For the most part this awareness is a healthy practice for me as I cherish each and every day of my life.  As I have less and less time remaining the more treasured is the remainder I have. 

To remind myself of the value of time, one of my occasional exercises is taking stock of the hours and days of my life.  Ten days ago I celebrated my 58th birthday.  Using that date as a hash mark along with seventy-six years as an average American male life expectancy I can do some sobering calculations.

As of my latest birthday I have lived 21,170 days or 508,080 hours which represents 76% of the life span of an average male in the USA.  Conversely, I have 6,570 days remaining which accounts for 157,680 hours or about 24% of my life remaining.  Of course, when my life ends is beyond me to calculate or guess at.  However, this little exercise drives home how valuable the time I have is.  

Once I started calculating last eveningI went off on a few other tangents and will share two.  Sleeping on average around 7 ½ hours each night I spend the equivalent of 114 days (31%) of each year sleeping.  Being blessed with a very short fifteen minute commute to and from work I spend 2 ½ hours weekly in the car for that purpose (on a yearly basis it totals five full 24-hour days commuting).  Once upon a time I lived in large cities and spent hours each day commuting.  Much thankfulness is within not to be doing that today.

I know there are specific areas of the brain I use in my perception of time.  I have my own internal timekeeper called a circadian rhythm.  It’s an instinctive attribute that makes me aware of time passing and plays a part in waking and sleeping patterns. However, the actual passing of time as I perceive it is deemed by science as subjective.  Consequently, my perception of time duration is variable and not necessarily measurable in any exact scientific units.  In other words, my time awareness is “all in my head”. 

While it is not my intention to get “too deep”, to make my case I want to bring up a concept of a human being’s perception of time.  The “Kappa Effect” generally speaking means a faster journey over more distance will still appear more time-consuming than a slower journey over less distance.  That does help me to understand why at first glance the 58 years lived so far feels more time-consuming than the remaining distance that could be lived somewhat slower. 

Being the sort of person who has always had a rebellious soul, I don’t plan to just let the time left click off the clock.  It is my belief time can be made to feel longer by how rich I cause my life to be with experiences and activity if I am mindful and living in the “now”.  Psychology Today defines mindfulness as a state of active, open attention on the present. When you’re mindful, you observe your thoughts and feelings from a distance, without judging them good or bad. Instead of letting your life pass you by, mindfulness means living in the moment and awakening to experience.

Mindfulness means I need to do my best to think less and be aware more, to live in the here and now of my experience instead of the ‘there and then’ of my thoughts.  To do so stretches time in exactly the same way new experience does: because I give more attention to my experience, I take in more information from it.  So at least to some extent I can control time. It doesn’t have to continue to speed up as I get older. My perception of time is like so many things; “it’s all in my head”.

But what minutes!  Count them by sensation, and not by calendars, and each moment is a day.  Benjamin Disraeli

A Prayer and Things Desired

/ James Browning / 2 Comments

Yesterday while looking for a particular book in my personal library and I came across another hardback not opened for years titled “The Desiderata of Happiness:  A Collection of Philosophical Poems by the author of Desiderata Max Ehrmann*”.  I read the first half dozen lines of “Desiderata” and recalled how much I like that old poem.  I remembered the title means “things desired” in Latin and made a mental note to come back and read the whole poem in a little while.  I never got around to it.  

Although I purchased the book solely for “Desiderata”, yesterday my attention was absorbed by another piece by Max Ehrmann that I don’t believe I had read before.   

A Prayer

Let me do my work each day;
and if the darkened hours
of despair overcome me, may I
not forget the strength
that comforted me in the
desolation of other times. 

May I still remember the bright
hours that found me walking
over the silent hills of my
childhood, or dreaming on the
margin of a quiet river,
when a light glowed within me,
and I promised my early God
to have courage amid the
tempests of the changing years.

Spare me from bitterness
and from the sharp passions of
unguarded moments. May
I not forget that poverty and
riches are of the spirit.
Though the world knows me not,
may my thoughts and actions
be such as shall keep me friendly
with myself. 

Lift up my eyes
from the earth, and let me not
forget the uses of the stars.
Forbid that I should judge others
lest I condemn myself.
Let me not follow the clamor of
the world, but walk calmly
in my path.

Give me a few friends
who will love me for what
 I am; and keep ever burning
before my vagrant steps
the kindly light of hope.

And though age and infirmity
overtake me, and I come not within
sight of the castle of my dreams,
teach me still to be thankful
for life, and for time’s olden
memories that are good and
sweet; and may the evening’s
twilight find me gentle still.

Oh, how those words rang true in my head yesterday.  I find it fascinating that when my heart, mind and soul is open to receive, what I need almost always comes to me.  So was the case with the accidental discovery yesterday of Ehrmann’s “A Prayer”.    As I stood and read, I got goose bumps from how well the words were the precise poultice needed by me yesterday.  Even today typing those words here I am touched just as much as when reading them the first time eighteen hours ago. 

In absorbing the meaning of Mr. Ehrmann’s words there are reminders of what I believe in and value most.  I am especially fond of the last eight lines about being grateful for my life as it comes and for what it contains.  What I want does not always show up, but what I need usually does.  All I have to do is be genuinely open to receive what comes and be grateful for it.  

The journey is the reward.  Chinese Proverb 

* Max Ehrmann was an American writer, poet and attorney from Terre Haute, Indiana who lived from 1872 until 1945.  He is most known widely known for “Desiderata” he wrote in 1927.  Go here to read it: http://www.lordtonymackenzie.com/desiderata.html

Like Wind Through a Tree

/ James Browning / 2 Comments

When the visitor used to come to call my life had much less color and texture.  The variance of hues and shades meant almost nothing.  To look into another’s face and make direct eye contact I rarely did during those times for fear each person would figure out what was going on and think less of me.      

My ability to look ahead to what tomorrow, next week or next year might contain was usually shrouded with a dark and dense mist when the guest was around.  My only clarity of perception seemed to be when I looked over my shoulder at the past.  In those looks backward I usually found the thunder and lightning of old “storms” to relive and endure.   

When the caller was nearby to eat became an obligation.  At best, the texture and flavor of food was bland and uninteresting.  I had little appetite except when I compulsively ate every thing in sight, but tasted little of it.  

The visitor lead me often to wish I worked somewhere else, was in a different profession or did not have to work at all. Focusing on anything in order to do a job well was difficult because of all the distractions within my mental whirlwind.  Thoughts bounced like a ball in a pinball machine with flashes and noise containing at best only momentary substance.  

While the traveler was with me thoughts of getting lost in the world traveling vagabond style or joining the Peace Corps were always strong.  I felt compelled then to run away and disappear, to be anywhere but “here”.  I twisted those true lifetime hopes and dreams of free travel or service into escape routes from my life. 

The visitor and I most often holed up in my home, daydreaming with the TV on, escaping into movies while rarely speaking or seeing any one else unless I had to.  When my “guest” came to call I felt a general gloominess about life seasoned heavily with sadness for the past and despair about future prospects. 

My visitor’s name is spelled with 10 letters and starts with a “D”.  It is called Depression.  Until a few years ago I all knew was for a few days each month I went through a time when nothing mattered much and I folded into myself.  At those times my self view was distorted and quite displeasing.  Flaws, imperfections and old mistakes came to call as I tried to find a way to undo them or find a fix.  Of course I never did and trying to do so was like pouring gasoline on a fire.  

Life is different today.  My diagnosis is “moderate cycling depression”.  Luckily I don’t have to deal with the deep, dark pits of despair many have to cope with (I am very grateful!).  Through lots of work on my own researching, meditating and studying I have come to understand my condition.  There has been some professional assistance.  While thankful for their help, they served mainly to throw some little light on my path so I would take another step… then another.  The work to overcome and manage my depression was something only I could do. 

Today, I can feel my old friend “D” before it is actually near.  As depression begins to show on my horizon, life starts to lose a bit of its zing and my mind starts to spin with old “what happened’s” and future “what if’s”.  Coping is mostly about understanding.  I know the moderate depression will live with me for several days and no longer try to fight it when it comes.  Rather, I do my best to let it pass through me like wind that shakes a tree’s limbs as it goes by but does no real damage.  I read once if wind did not regularly move a tree the roots would be so weak even a one time gentle breeze would knock the tree over.  Today I use the “wind” of my depression to make me stronger in much the same way.  

Anymore the cycling depression does not bother me a lot.  When that “wind” comes I know I won’t get much done at work or at home, will sleep a bit more, keep to myself  and have more than usual couch TV time.  I accept that and it’s OK.  Giving up my resistance to it and just letting the depression pass through me has made the condition at worst a largely minor irritant.  I don’t fear it, hate it, fight it or feel less than because of it anymore. 

One might think only a fool would be grateful for depression, and I can’t say I am one of them.  However I am thankful for the lessons it is teaching me.  By accepting my condition and being willing to bear it makes my roots stronger.  Paying attention to where my mind goes when depressed frequently points to areas I either need to work on or make peace with. 

Acceptance of the way things are and finding ways to learn from difficulty is proving to be one of the greatest learning experiences of my life.  It is impossible to completely master such teachings, but in my attempts and the resulting wisdom I am blessed.  When I am grateful for what “is”, my hopes are strengthened and my blessings are multiplied.   

Attitude is Everything by Portia Nelson
Chapter 1
I walk down the street.
there is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I fall in.
I am lost…I am helpless.
It isn’t my fault.
It takes forever to find a way out.
Chapter 2
I walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I pretend I don’t see it.
I fall in again.
I can’t believe I am in the same place.
Bit it isn’t my fault.
It still takes a long time to get out.
Chapter 3
I walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I see it is there.
I still fall in….it’s a habit.
My eyes are open.
I know where I am
It is my fault.
I get out immediately.
Chapter 4
I walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I walk around it.
Chapter 5
I walk down another street