Make Someone Happy?

  A friend on Facebook was bored the other night.  She had overheard someone saying the phrase, "Happy wife, happy life." and wanted to know what people thought about it.  I had heard it before and my first thought was that the quote obviously came from someone (a man I'm assuming) who is dissatisfied with their life or relationship.  I couldn't help myself.  I had to start speechafyin'.   


  In its simplest form the
statement is true.  The essence of it.  If you are with someone you truly love, you wish to see them happy.  If the love of your life is happy, then yes you'll
generally find yourself happy too.  Some of the happiest times I've had were in the simple moments of making someone happy.  Well, I suppose I should really say; when I did something and the other person allowed themselves to feel happy.     



  Crap!  Here comes all that convoluted hard stuff.  I hate when that happens.



  Look, if you punch somebody in the eye, they're mostly gonna be mad.  If I handed you the keys to a new car you'd probably be pretty happy. That's all shiny surface stuff though.  It's once you start veering off into all the different scenarios of personal relationships that it gets complicated.   



  The plain and simple fact is
you can't make somebody else feel something.  Isn't it about choices we make?  Isn't it how we feel about ourselves at any moment that dictates how we interact with others.  You can't make somebody love you can you?  You can court and woo till the cows come home.  If the other person just isn't into it, you're sunk.  Much like if someone is unhappy with life or a situation you're going to have a tough time trying to make them happy.           



  If one is
in a blissful relationship where each is their own person and there is true
communication and all that, the phrase would never even enter someone's
head.  In a very general sense if you're happy with yourself your partner will
be happy.  If you're in the type of relationship that is so prevalent in today's world where people don't really know themselves or their partners, the idea of that question is probably ever on a man's mind.  No sex?  Gotta make her happy.  Cold and distant?  What did I do?  Gotta make her happy.  Divorce?  Crap!  Try and make her happy.  It's a cold wind that blows when it all gets that complicated.  



  That's where the self worth part comes in, isn't it.  If you don't love yourself enough to be yourself, how can a relationship survive?  We've all had to make compromises in a partnership, sure.  But if you can't be the person that you were at the start of things how can you or your partner ever find happiness?  You just can't find happiness always trying to make someone else happy.  If you're in a relationship where you keep seeing red flags because you're making too many changes, always just trying to make the other person happy; something's gotta change.  If you don't value yourself or the relationship enough to change that situation then blame and resentment will start creeping in.



 It's not that you can't go see that movie you don't want to to show somebody you love 'em.  Or buy those flowers, or whatever.  Those are important moments in a relationship.  It's showing you care.  You will indeed show the other person you want them to feel happy and loved.  Just do it because you want to and not because you think you have to.    

On the other hand, maybe someone just couldn't think of a word to rhyme with husband.



I suppose I could go on.  And on probably.  I won't though.  I've poked and prodded at this post long enough.  



Keep your stick on the ice.  We're all in this together.



Peace

Spiders and Snakes

  It's been over a month since writing some Notes, and well, there it is.  I do want to be more consistent about writing this blog. No excuses or promises of being better about it this time though.  Either I will or I won't.  I have been doing a lot of writing though.  Just not for this blog.  I guess you could say I've been using writing as therapy lately.  I've been lucky enough to find a therapist I don't have to pay.  Someone I don't even have to go see for that matter.  Someone who reads the words I vomit into the ether without direct judgement.  And I feel I've come a long way.  I was in stasis for a long time.  As often as I've told you that change is good and all the other  things we've discussed here, sometimes you just lose sight of your path.



  Some of you reading this might remember me mentioning in a past post or two how writing this blog started becoming very formulaic for me.  How I started trying to satisfy some set of self-imposed parameters.  That should've been a clue for me right there.  There was something wrong and I couldn't see it yet.  The thing was I wasn't really being creative any more.  Not in how I was approaching writing.  Not in how I was approaching life.  I really need to be creative in some fashion.



  And then there was the whole social aspect to life.  I have been spending the bulk of my time alone.  Not that I particularly mind being alone.  I never really feel like I get lonely.  Well, maybe every once in a while.  Nothing major though.  My point is that the whole purpose of this blog started out as a study in interaction. Kinda hard to talk about living with other human beings if you're always only in your own head.  I just didn't feel comfortable enough in my own skin I guess to want to be around others much.  I have been reconnecting with life outside me a lot lately though.  The all important human interaction drives my creativity with this blog.



  Right.  Now that that's out of the way, let's move on shall we?            



  I've wanted to write a post for some time now.  A lot of things have crossed my plate that I might have written to you about.  I just couldn't though.  Until today.



  Are you familiar with any Native American belief systems?  About totems and the medicine they carry?   As usual I know just enough to get me in trouble.  I've been blessed enough in my life to have been close to someone who exposed me to it.  I've  talked about it and even found out what my personal totem is.  I can't for the life of me remember what it is, but I knew at one time.  The idea is that everything around us has something to teach us.  A totem can be anything in nature.  If you notice a feather on the ground don't just pass it by.  It's trying to tell you that you are on the right path in some aspect of your life.  Have you seen a Red Tail Hawk lately?   He can see the distant hill and the rabbit trying to hide right under his gaze.  Hawk sees the bigger picture without losing the detail. Hawk may be telling you that you are ready to make a decision about something or make some change you've been pondering.  This way of thinking was an every day part of life.  Not a fad or religion, but a way to see the world we walk on.  A way to be part of the world along with every other single thing.



  Many of us don't even come close to realizing that we are part of the world and not its lord and master.  Few people would be mindful enough in today's world to realize that a simple spider that is seen in a corner every day might be a messenger.      



  Snake medicine smacked me right in the face today.  There was no being mindful about it.  I would've had to have been dead to miss it.


  I'm sitting in an Indian joint waiting a long time for service.  I was under the impression this place had a buffet on Saturdays.  At least the banner hanging on the building said it did.  When I walk in the guy who greeted me seemed kinda surprised to see me.  I held up my forefinger to indicate that there would be just one.  His extended arm invited me to sit anywhere I so desired.  He came over with a menu and I inquired about the buffet.  I'm not sure exactly what he said, but I knew the gist; there was no buffet.  I looked over the menu and decided what to eat pretty quickly.  Then I sat and waited.  And waited.  And...  


  Suddenly the two young girls and their mother sitting at the only other occupied table leapt up screaming and dancing.  I hear the word snake.  There is no one else around.  Whatever staff was on duty was M.I.A.  I go over to see what the problem is.  There's a tiny little black field snake on the window sill next to them.  The sill was in full sunlight.  Geez it musta been nice and warm there.  I took the snake with me and let it go outside as I left. I guess neither one of us should've been there.



  While I had the snake in my hand and it was trying to wrap itself around my wrist my mind travelled 25 years maybe into the past.  There was some stage production or other that I was involved in.  Now I don't remember the exact particular, but somebody saw a snake on the stage.  A tiny little black field snake.  I took that one outside too.     



  Snake medicine.  Snake medicine is about transmutation.  Perhaps turning something toxic or poisonous into something of value.  Like turning snake venom into antivenom.  It's about the process of change I guess.  In its simplest form the snake sheds it's skin to become seemingly new.  When it's done it's still a snake, but it's changed.



  At that very instant I couldn't help but see in full force the lesson of snake medicine.  I am definitely changed by life and choices I've made.  I have shed many skins.  But I am still me.  I am still the same person with the same things that drive me to live as I must.



  Stay on your path.  Find it.  Embrace it.  Walk it.



  Alright.  I'm outta here.



  I'm pullin' for ya.

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Eminence Front

Well, I've gotten myself into another fine mess. 




Depends how you look at it really I suppose.

I quit smoking. 




I know. I know. Yay! Right?

Yes, mostly. I suppose. Don't worry I can hear you saying "Mostly"?



Yes, it is definitely a good thing that I've quit. I've gone and done it all public like too. I posted on Face Book something like - "Transdermal nicotine patch. Day one". A bunch of my FB friends were very supportive. I appreciate that more than I can say. I'm sure if I contacted any of them for moral support they'd be more than happy to help me out.



For those of you that smoke, or have quit; you may want to skip the next paragraph or two, or five. Oh heck. I don't know if this whole post is for you. I just want to talk about what smoking is for a lot of people and why it's so hard to give up. Pretty boring stuff for current or ex-smokers I suppose. I mean, you already know the ropes.



Why is it so hard to give up smoking? It's only nicotine right? Once you're past that it should be easy as pie. Once you're past the cravings and have found a strategy to not smoke any more, what's the big deal?



Well, it's a HUGE deal. Why can't some people stop smoking? Like the person who sees the TV commercial of the people with throat stomas and lights up any way. Or the person who ignores the smoker's cough. Or my brother who begged me for a Marlboro on his death bed. 



Who's always there just within reach? Waiting at your beck and call. Who goes to bed, wakes up, finishes meals, and takes breaks when you do? Who is at your side through good times and bad? After that argument. Before a job interview. And those long car rides. When you hate yourself and when you love yourself. It's the lowly, gross cigarette of course.



Why is it so hard? Because like so many addictions I suppose it's not just about the addiction. It's about changing your life. It's a death in the family. It's a divorce. And you have to CHOOSE to do it. You have to choose to ignore the siren's call for the rest of your life. I know it gets easier to ignore, but you have to kick that constant companion to the curb. That's hard for a lot of people. Especially when they don't see the ill effects of smoking. Or just choose to ignore them.  



Smoking is not illegal. There are no tests for cigarette use when applying for a job. The smoking bans in some areas are for many just another cross to bear to be in that cool smoking club. And it is a club. You pay dues every day. You hang around a special crowd of people. Your loyal to your brand and your clique.




Know what though? It's not worth it. It's not worth the constant stink that hangs around you. It's not worth the blunted senses of taste and smell. It's not worth the money. Not worth the hacking cough or the gasping, labored, suffocated breath as you lay dying in hospice. And I'll tell ya why.



Now I could be wrong; I have no title or piece of paper saying I know what I'm talking about, but isn't the basis of most addiction a low or nonexistent sense of self? I mean think about it. Most smokers will tell you straight up that they know smoking is bad. That smoking can kill. Many will tell you they wish they had never started. But they smoke anyway. People stuff their feelings back down with every puff. Just as the morbidly obese continue to eat when full. Eat when they know they shouldn't. For comfort. Self destructives all over the world will glibly tell you that it's one more nail in the coffin as they light up. Or laughingly refer to cigarettes as cancer sticks. It's all bravado. It's just a way to show defiance. To keep smoking. If you smoke and examine why you smoke I bet you'll find that it's all a front for not dealing with your real feelings. Some real issues.



And what of ex-smokers? Most smokers really hate the ex-smoker who is a fanatic over quitting. Sometimes they try to get others to quit. Sometimes it's the loss of a smoking buddy. Hearing the perils of smoking from an ex-smoker is like nails on a chalk board. Or whatever makes you shudder. 




Why are ex-smokers so adamant? Why the eminence front? A person who has recently quit smoking has to start toeing the line of a different life. Almost has to start preaching the word in order to have it stay rooted forever. I can't remember if it's seven or twenty-one days to break a habit. Smoking takes a lot longer though. If you're actually going to do something like this for yourself - yes, you must quit because you want to - you should feel good about it. You should be proud and tell the world. 



What happens if you do have a cigarette while you're quitting? Or overeat when you're trying to lose weight? Or anything for that matter. Well, duh! Just keep going. Don't tag yourself a loser and give up. Pick up where you left off and keep going. Every stumble is a chance to succeed. Don't use frustration or a mistake as an excuse for giving up on yourself. 


Just keep having faith in yourself. You deserve all the love and patience you can muster.



How 'bout I give you a break this time around? I'll let class out early just this once.




I'm pullin' for ya.

Help

I put my foot on the clutch and started my car. Sweet. She still fires right up. It's a '95 Plymouth Neon. I don't know how many miles are on it. The speedometer works sporadically. If I drive in the snow or rain I end up with pools of water sitting in the backseat foot wells. I don't think I can get the spare tire out. Rusted in place. Oil consumption depends on how fast and how far I go it seems. Oh yeah, and the rear springs are broken and the front suspension is shot. Every pothole or bump creates quite the thump. I can't just pump gas in it either. Some part of the relief tube is not hooked up correctly and I have to trickle the gas in so it doesn't back flush all over me and the ground. She gets me where I need to get though.



I throw 'er into reverse and swing around to pull away. Shift into 1st and I'm off.



Whoa! Hold on! Something's not right.



Instead of my peppy little Neon taking right off she's all sluggish and I have to feather the gas and clutch to gain enough speed to shift into 2nd. First thing I think is one of the cylinders isn't firing. Need a tune-up. Bad.



Great. I had just made an appointment to get the brakes done. Had just scraped up the money. I'm going to have to use that money for the tune-up.



Yes, I suppose I could do it myself. Brakes are easy enough. A tune-up even easier. The problem? Tools. That and I haven't done anything like that in a long time. Never mind how long.



I've never been a big gear-head with cars. Sure I could buy the manual and follow the pictures and all that. I was never a tool collector either. Yes, of course I wish I had been. All the time. Instead I'll bring it in to a garage and let some guy earn his fifty and found. (That's $50 a month room and board. Oh, just Google it.)



The thing is though that as soon as I knew I needed to get a tune-up I knew our time together was coming to an end. I knew that I'd have to start pouring money in to it.



I was right too. I had the tune-up done and still needed the brakes done. And now other things were starting to break.



So I started looking for a new car. Not, you know, NEW new. Just something newer and safer.



I found an '03 Saab 9-5 Aero. Four cylinder 5 speed manual transmission with a lot of bells. Not sure about the whistles though. I went to the dealer a few times to look it over and read the Carfax. I still looked around to see if there was something else around that would be better and not so expensive to repair if needed. It was such a step up from what I had been driving for the last few years though I fell for it pretty quickly. I mean who wouldn't? It was a performance car with a stick. Performance tires and suspension. The the whole deal. And of course it was in so much better shape than my poor Neon.



I was feeling pretty good about my choice. I was arranging to get at some of my money so I could do the deed.



Until.



Until I talked to my mother.



I was talking to her one night about needing a car and what I was going to do about it. The next night she calls me and says she'd like me to have her car.



Whoa! Hey, wait! I'm a fifty year old man taking care of business the best way I could. I knew how to handle this. I didn't need my mother running to the rescue.



I won't tell you how old she is. She'd kill me. No, really. Let's just say that for a few years now the whole should she drive any more conversation has come up a few times.



Her car is a few years older than mine and in desperate need of detailing. Desperate need. And, you know, I felt like I was already, umm, spoken for.



I was really torn for a while. Free car. My own decision. Another possible clunker. A pretty decent car that I felt I wouldn't have to worry about for a while. My own person. My mother to the rescue.



I guess the thing is though, who would turn down a free car? I'm still unemployed. I could use some of the money to make sure that the car is in as good shape as it can be. I could use some to pay off some bills.



There's all of that. But then there's me learning to accept help. Take a helping hand when offered. That's always been a tough one for me. I'd rather suffer anything sometimes than ask for help. It's not pride. It's deeper and sillier than that.



The other thing is letting my mother help me. I've never asked for help from her in anything. This would make her feel happy to be able to do something for me.



So it wasn't so bad. I allowed someone to help me out and the sun did indeed come up the next morning. Although it will take a while to get used to driving an automatic again.



If you're anything like me you're willing to help out any way you can whenever you're asked. The thing you have to remember is almost everyone you know is just as willing to help you too. We'll all make it through this maze. Sometimes you just need a little help.



I'm pullin' for ya.

The Heart of the Matter

I don't even know where to start really.



So  many post beginnings have flashed through my head lately. So many times I've thought "That's it! That's what the ultimate point of my next post will be".



The thing is though, that's not how I used to write this blog. It used to be all extemporaneous. I would see something or talk to someone and I would tell that story. Usually I'd pull something out of that interaction to remind you and me that we're really OK. That if we just remember each other it would all work out. For whatever reason I'd think of a song while I was writing and it just naturally fit with what I was doing. As a friend and I discussed at one point it was mostly unplanned (not the word we used) writing. By that I mean that it just happened that way. I never consciously started a certain way or tried to wend my way to certain points. It just worked out that way.



Something's happened somewhere along the way.



I used to write just about any time a thought struck me. I'd whip out my trusty phone and get to work. I'd get to the section of Blogger where I could start or edit posts and write away. After a while though Google changed their format a bit - well a lot - and I found it next to impossible to write on my phone. I found a blog editing app that was pretty easy to use and I was off again. This app even allowed me to start attaching videos to posts as I wrote. I thought that was pretty cool. It seemed kinda hard to edit things once they were published though. I always miss something when I proofread and just have to change it if I see something wrong on the live blog.



Then a laptop wandered it's way into my life. I could use Blogger to my hearts content. I could change fonts if I wanted to. I could spell check if the fancy struck me. There were so many things I could do that I couldn't on my phone.



So far so good, right?



 Well, yes. And of course, no.



I don't really consider myself a writer. I'm just a person who likes to write. I'm sure my punctuation is greatly lacking. I don't write drafts and rewrite them until things are perfect. I don't set a time to write every day. In other words I don't work at it. When I got a laptop it suddenly started to feel different. Flipping up the screen and turning on the computer was a concrete decision to write. Not that I avoid commitment, but turning on that computer was committing to writing. Suddenly it wasn't so spontaneous and fun.



The traffic to my blog is really fairly modest. I average, mmmm, about 250 pageviews a month. That's nothing compared to some that get thousands of hits a day. I'm not complaining, just making a comparison. I am actually always amazed and thankful for the reach of this blog. I suppose because I feel a loyalty to whatever audience might read this regularly I got too tied up with how I wrote my posts. I started trying to write things in a way that people had come to expect. I was trying to write the end before I had even stared the beginning. Almost like telling the punchline without telling the joke.



So there's a bunch of kinda internal stuff that you're probably wondering why I shared.



I'm not really sure except that I had a chance to show somebody this blog one day. There we were waiting to go to the Big Gig at the Comcast. I was talk with some one I had just met. We seemed to see eye to eye on a lot of things so I suggested he might like some of the stuff in here. I happened to glance at the archive list as he was reading and was shocked to see that I had hardly written anything this year. Never mind the post per week I had promised myself. I was barely writing one a month.



It was pretty easy to get to that point. A shrug of the shoulder over not writing one day. An unkept promise to myself to do it another day. Too much time spent watching TV. Tons of little things that I allowed to get in the way.



I'm sure you've found yourself in kinda the same situation over something. You know, going to the gym say. Some how you skip the gym one day. Suddenly it's six months since you've been.



It's so easy to forget. Forget that we are imperfect. That we are human. That making mistakes is what we're best at. Don't let it stop you though. If you stumble, forgive yourself. Forgive yourself and move on. You've gotta love yourself enough to get on with it already. You're not a failure for being here with everybody else struggling to make it through.



It's hard though isn't it? Sometime it's hard to forgive others. A lot of times it's hard to give ourselves a break. Sometimes we cling to the past and mistakes we may have made.



How can you expect to love and live a full life if your life doesn't include forgiveness. And of course it starts with you. Love yourself. Forgive yourself. To paraphrase a quote I've seen from the Dalai Lama; of all the people on earth you are the person most deserving of your love. The best way to start that is by a simple act of forgiveness.



I'm pullin' for ya. We're all in this together

Take Me to the River

I started out to go on a hike the other day. Not such an unusual thing really.



I say started to, but I never really made it. I got to the preserve, a place called Ragged Mountain, and noticed what looked like a family getting ready for a hike. There was a set of grandparents, a 10 year old, a dad, maybe another set of grandparents. As I got out of the car one of the grandmothers said, "Are you here for the..." I couldn't hear the rest as a car raced by me. I walked up to the woman and told her I hadn't planned to and asked what was going on. Turns out there was going to be some guy coming by to give a talk on vernal ponds. (Don't worry, we'll get to what vernal ponds are eventually.) I was welcome to come along if I wanted.



Hmm.



A talk on vernal ponds.



Mmm...



"Thanks", I said. "That sounds nice".



I found out they weren't necessarily all grandparents. Two of them were, but that was coincidental. One man .was from the wetlands commission, one had another such title that I just can't remember. The other adults in the group represented the local land trust that takes care of preserves like the one we were about to enter. Stewards of the land preserving the rural character and quality of life in their home town. There was the 10 year old who was indeed spending the morning with his grandparents. And me. All of us making small talk, waiting. Waiting for some guy.



Some guy turned out to be Jonathan Richardson from the Yale School of Forestry and Environmental Studies. Now I do Jonathan a slight disservice here for I don't remember his total history. I do remember that he got a BS in Biology from University of Virginia. I remember that as of his talk he had just about 2 weeks to go before he gave his oral defense for his Masters thesis. I think that last part is correct. I think. If that's what one does to finish a Masters program. I've never done it, so I don't know. What I don't remember is his field work. What I can say is it's a lot. I mean a lot. He has spent so much time in the woods of the Northeast he could probably direct you to all of the vernal ponds in Connecticut from memory.



Yeah, I know, that's all nice and everything, but, what the heck does he do!  I've lifted the next bit directly from his highlight page on the Yale website.



"My research focuses on the influence of landscape structure on population persistence. More specifically, I am looking at the effects of habitat fragmentation in terms of gene flow, population genetic structure, and evolutionary differentiation among amphibian populations in the Northeast."



I'll let you read that over a few times while I get on with it.



As it turned out all of these people were meeting because some developer wanted to build some houses on some land that includes a vernal pond. We were going to take a short walk into the woods and learn the importance of vernal ponds. You know, show the important people from the important commissions and such the importance of preserving our wetlands and open spaces.



Do you live near a place where you can hear the peepers in the spring? You know the frogs calling out hoping for a one night stand. I don't anymore. If I'm lucky and I'm going somewhere at night I can hear them Doppler style as I drive by. I hear them sometimes when I'm out hiking, but it seems if I get too near or make too much noise they don't make a sound.



Some times when you here them they are inhabiting a regular old pond.



Some times you're hearing the cycle of a vernal pond.



See a vernal pond fills with snow run off and the first rains of spring. The dead leaves left over from the previous fall line the bottoms of these depressions in the floor of the woods allowing the water to collect and remain until the surrounding trees suck up all the water to feed their new leaves. Something pretty awesome happens while all that water rests in it's cozy pocket. This little pond starts to teem with life. All kinds of life. Frogs, salamanders, mosquito larvae, snails and fingernail clams, microscopic zooplankton. A ton of stuff. More than I can remember. The thing is it's a whole ecosystem. A food chain that is almost symbiotic. One layer of life somehow helping the another to survive. Sure the larger things feed on the smaller, but the smaller often take advantage of the larger in some way.



A whole world unto itself.



A whole universe that knows nothing of you or me. Nothing of cars or Mars or The Avengers or anything that we might know.



They know nothing of us. Have no capacity to understand the world they live on. All they know is their cycle.



Yet here we are.



 It's kinda like that for us too isn't it?



We swim through our lives barely looking up. There are so many things that we think we know. So many things that we are so sure of. So sure in fact that we'd start wars or argue with friends, hush our children, or look down upon out neighbors.



We're lucky in many ways. From where our planet spins in the solar system to the fact that we're all still holdin' on to what we've got. Just do me a favor and look up some time and wonder over the things that are still a mystery. Let go of what you know and wonder over all the things you don't.



I set off on another hike a few days later. I went to a place called Cotton Hollow Preserve. There's a river that runs through it. It's a popular place because of all the small water falls and rapids along the path.

I always watch the water run 'round the rocks. I watch the stubborn rocks buck and fight the constant flow.



I know it's cliched now, but we always have the choice in life. Be the rock or be the water. Be the rock and stay set in your ways no matter what's happening around you. Be the water and find a way to where you want to go.



As Bruce Lee is quoted as saying (though I'm sure it's much older than that) "Be the Water".



Well, it's that time again. Time where I feel like I'm just talking to talk.



Keep your stick on the ice.



Peace

Keep on Working

Well, it finally happened.



I got laid off.



I'd been waiting ever so long. Not like a kid waiting for Christmas who can't sleep at night either. More like a person who has been watching people he works with getting laid off every week and can't stand the suspense of when your time is coming. The waiting and wondering. Ooo! I made it to morning break! Phew! Made it through lunch! Clocking out on a Friday afternoon thankful you've made i through another week. Seeing the Hatchet Man on a day he usually doesn't come in and knowing someone is going to be on the outside looking in soon. Usually more than one someone too. That kind of waiting.



See, I knew I was on the list too. No, really. I won't go into details of personalities and loyalties and politics, suffice it to say; I knew.



I should've been working on my résumé ages ago. There was a computer virus a long time ago and I lost whatever versions I'd had. I didn't have any hard copy to simply retype. So I knew I had to do it. And I had become unhappy enough that I should've initiated the change to begin with. And when I say unhappy I mean it. I don't remember a positive word passing my lips while I was there in a long, long time.



I'm not tellin' ya this for you to feel sorry for me. I've been in a lot worse scrapes.



Many people feel desperate losing a job at 50. I'm don't. I think I'm kinda relieved. Well, yeah. Relieved. As much as I felt I really needed the job, as lazy as I was in not writing a résumé; I didn't want to uproot myself again and start over some where else. As much as I'll always tell you that change is good, you don't always greet it with your arms wide open. Some times it's just hard. So I stayed. I stayed and did the best job I could while feeling the breeze of the pendulum as it got closer and closer. I stayed and watched good people have to leave without a chance to say goodbye. I stayed even though I knew.



But ultimately I wasn't given the choice. So even though I knew there needed to be a change and was avoiding it, it came wrapped up in pink paper.



Now, with all this talk of me knowing it was coming some people I know would probably say it was a self fulfilling prophecy. You know, if you believe your marriage is going to fail you act in way that actually expedites the matter. The term was coined by Robert Merton. In his book Social Theory and Social Structure he contends that the prediction is false but made true by a person's actions. Most people associate this tendency in negative ways. It works positively too though. If you look in the mirror before you leave the house for the day and say to yourself that today is going to be the best day ever, you will inevitably act in ways that will help that along. Consciously or unconsciously.



All of that is not to be confused with The Law of Attraction. I haven't really studied The Law. From what little I've read it seems to be a system of visualization and meditation. You attract to yourself whatever you put your attention to. Like attracts like. If you believe you have infinite possibilities then that's what you'll have. If you believe you're poor or alone then that's what you are. It seems to me to have a lot to do with materialism too. Something like if you visualize abundant riches you'll wake up a millionaire. I've got little to say about it really. It seems a sham where people are willing to tell you the secrets to getting extraordinary things if you buy this or that book. Or, you know, maybe even book 2. I don't really know though. If anyone has had success with this and would like to share, you know how to get a hold of me.



So there's one theory that sort of says once you get something into your head you'll act out in whatever way needed to ensure the result you're expecting. The other theory is more about being an active participant in your life. Figuring out what you want or need and trying to influence the universe to do your bidding. There is a third thing I'd like to bring up though. It has to do with subjective reality.



Subjective reality is a belief system where there is only one singular consciousness in the universe. You. Everything else you see, touch, or love are projections of your thoughts. There nothing influencing what happens in your life. No predictions to prove or disprove. There is no universe to spar with and manipulate to your wishes. You are the universe all on your own and all of your wants and intentions are manifested because you create it. You are the creator. It's like dreaming. Everything in your dreams are projections of your dream thoughts. It's the same thing in the physical world. Everything is a projection of your thoughts. Now that's some heavy stuff huh?



How do you suppose these three things are connected? The only thing that I can put my finger on right away is feeling like everyone has the chance to get, or feel, or want anything we want. The thing is is that there are no real short cuts I think. As powerful and vast as the mind is, it all takes work. It takes you to know what you truly want. It takes you to be ever mindful that you can change what you have to what you want. You need to work. You need to keep on working. The change will not come instantly, but if you put your intention out there in the universe and work on it, things will change. Ya gotta put the work in to get the results. If you want to be a happier person, act on it and be mindful of it. If you want more money, do something about it. Go back to school for that degree you never finished. Get another job. Even a second job. Don't just wish for it.



Work for what you want. Work for it and keep on working.



All right.



I'm pullin' for ya. We're all in this together.