Surrogate here, at a party - so there won't be a logical post this evening. Thought I'd update if anything fun happens. I'm the designated old person so I won't be drinking. If all goes well, thee won't be anything too crazy to delete tomorrow.
Surrogate and I were talking last night and he was telling me about when he worked at a radio station years ago. Most of what he told me sounded pretty goofy, but I've been thinking about this one story all day.
He wrote comedy for an afternoon DJ most of the time but to supplement his income ended up writing a lot of commercials too. Spots, he called them. From the way he talks about it, you'd have thought he was writing an emmy winning sitcom for years on end instead of 60 second commercials for local pest control companies with big plastic bugs on the tops of their vans. Anyway, he teamed up with another DJ who was more proficient with the recording equipment than surrogate was and together they wrote a bunches and bunches of these stupid "spots."
The station was a busy place and because lots of people needed the production studio during business hours, they tended to meet at night when most of the staff had called it a day. Excepting whoever was on the air, a producer or two and a skeleton news staff, the place was usually empty. And, since the broadcast studios were down a long hall from production, they ususally felt like they had their own private recording studio at night causing, says surrogate, a more relaxed atmosphere in which they could work their "creative voodoo" and subsequently, be more productive.
One night surrogate's partner Sam showed up in a foul mood. For an hour, they worked on a project but neither of them were happy with what they'd come up with. Plus Sam snapped a few times at surrogate for things, (once again, this is according to surrogate) that he (Sam) had no business even being upset about.
Finally surrogate snapped back when Sam had "crossed the line" calling surrogate a stupid S.O.B. In the moments that followed the little argument, neither said much except things directly having to do with what they were working on. They muddled through the project, which was supposed to be a funny commercial for a tire chain, and decided not to start on another that evening.
As they started to leave, Sam apologized for being an a**hole.
Surrogate then also aplologized and they decided to go have a beer before heading home to their respective families.
surrogate asked Sam why he'd been so testy all night. Sam started to answer, stopped and thought a second and then a grin plastered his face turning soon into uncontroled laughter. He settled dwon and shaking his head said, "They made me smile all day today."
"What" surrogate asked, having no clue what Sam meant.
"They made me smile all through mid-day. Every time I stopped smiling, this consultant they hired who was sitting in on the show - in the studio with me, would give me give me a big fake grin to remind me to smile every time I spoke."
"I know. But this moron said that you can "hear" the smile in someone's voice and that my voice sounded like a frown all the time, so they made me smile from 10:00 to 2:00 every time I said a word on the air. Oh, and he said that faking it wouldn't work. It had to be a "genuine smile"."
"Oh geez" surrogate had seen the consultant running around looking officious for the last day or two.
"So, by the time I got off the air, I was so pissed off I couldn't think straight. I kept seeing this guy grinning this stage grin at me telling me to smile naturally. I can't do it. I WON'T do it. If he comes in tomorrow and starts in on me... I'll walk... or I'm afraid I'll smash his face in."
And that's the part that's stayed with me all day.
How many thousands of times in life are we forced to act in ways we don't feel just to satisfy someone else's idea of who they think we should be? What does it do to us in the long run? Does that sort of thing keep us from actually feeling happy as often as we otherwise might?
I don't have an answer. But I do know that people who seem happy all the time scare me to death.
That doesn't mean we can't... Be Good To Everyone!
Today is a day for us all to be both thankful and sorrowful. It is a day for us to ask what we can do to help the people who have been devastated by the Tsunami in Asia.
We can be thankful, grateful that we have been spared and sorrowful for the losses suffered by so very many people.
Don't worry about the dead. In situations like these it seems normal to mourn lives lost on such a massive scale, but the dead will be fine; are fine in fact. It is for the living we must show empathy, charity and good will. The people left behind after events such as this one are forever changed, and will, in many cases struggle with the aftermath for the rest of their lives, even as they work to make their own lives as close as possible to normal again.
Dig for pennies if that's all you can afford, but everyone here who reads this who is lucky enough to sleep under cover tonight has something they can do without in order to help those who reach out today to all of us.
There are lots of good organizations to whom you may consider donating what you can, and I won't enumerate them here.
If you pray, this would be a good time to consider praying. If you don't, just imagine yourself in a situation where not only are you without means to shelter and feed yourself and your family, but that the support network in the area where you live, where you might ask for emergency help, is also decimated. This is a bad one folks.
This morning I'm sitting in my son's basement on his supercomputer. I'm always afraid this thing will blast me into orbit around some distant planet. We're both Mac people, but while mine is this cute little all in one emac that looks about as harmful as a toaster, this thing is all stainless steel with zillions of apparently pointless perforations designed, to my way of thinking, to intimidate mortals. The monitor is 23" wide and looks like it came off the Enterprise in one of the later movies. I keep expecting a Klingon ship commander to blink onto the screen demanding I imediately leave this quadrant....so I type fast, increasing exponentially my "typo per word typed ratio."
He called me last night about ten asking me to come over here to watch a movie with his girlfriend and him. Made me feel good. Son asking Dad over for some quality time.
I had already changed into my sleeping sweats but the offer sounded like fun so I changed back into street clothes, started up the car and bopped over. When I got here, he was finishing up putting up a rack of some sort in his bedroom so I came down here into the basement, checked email, checked to see If I'd received any especially nasty or threatening emails associated with the blog (I get one every few days and had received one the day before), went up stairs, put on a pot of coffee, talked on the phone with a friend for a few minutes, gabbed with my son while we waited for his girlfriend to get here, he made popcorn, she arrived, we talked a little more. Finally we got situated and started the movie...
-And about five minutes later, I fell fast asleep on his couch.
Want to know the bad part?
Second night in a row I did exactly the same thing.
Okay, here's the deal. Today's post (promised yesterday) will conclude the goofy story we started here last week. It's basically a true story by the way. Here's what I'm going to do for the sake of continuity and to make it easier for those who have either missed one or more of the sections - or are lost because we've done such a lousy job of keeping our promises as to when this thing would be continued and ended. Today's post will contain each of the four posts that make up the story with a little editing since recapping won't be necessary from section to section, and in rereading it myself, I've notice some of the gaps I left that should probably be filled in. Each of the four sections will be separated by a series of periods (..............................) so if you've just missed one, you'll be able to read it without having to read the whole thing again. Got it? To help avoid confusion, I've deleted the other three entries that had originally made up sections one, two and three, but which appeared, of course, in reverse order as you scrolled down the posts. So - if you want to read the thing... here it is.
Jesus reporting this morning.
It seems that years ago when two of surrogate's friends, both of whom were planning on becoming preachers someday, were about to graduate from high school, they decided that, in lieu of the attending their senior class's long planned senior trip to the Bahamas, they'd spend some time touring a few different colleges they thought they might like to see in order to help them decide where they'd like to go the following September. Some of the schools they were considering were of the ilk that I really don’t like, the “Bible” colleges where the whole program is based upon a “Literal Interpretation” of the Bible. I dislike the term as well, it’s an impossibility and implies a sort of superior "connection to the truth" which is unbecoming in anyone, especially people who... aw never mind.
There’s an old joke that goes that if I showed up at some of the churches where these folks worship, they wouldn’t quit till they’d have saved my soul in my own name....
Anyway, at the time, a beautiful young freshman coed at this one Bible College they intended to visit was in a tizzy with the administration, because the Dean had decided that she would not be allowed to go to a Rock Concert the following Friday night where a band called “Black Oak Arkansas” (a real popular band at the time - especially in that area of the country - Southeastern Bible Belt - ) was to be performing. The reason, of course, was that according the the Dean - who, to be fair, been backed up by a number of faculty advisers and students in his decision - the band’s lyrics were considered “Satanic.” Couple this with the onstage presence and antics of the band members, and it was an understandable dilemma for a man in his lofty position.
And now, here’s the rub. See, the cute little freshman girl in question - who’d had the audacity to make all these waves - was the baby sister of the the lead singer of the band! (We’re talking February 1974 here - it’s an old story.)
So the question became this one: Since “Family” is usually such an important brick in the foundation of Conservative Christianity, how would the School, on the one hand, be able to allow the little girl to be part of what she considered a family triumph, and yet on the other, fulfill what they perceived as their responsibility to keep her leash yanked tight enough to make sure that she could, in no way be influenced by the the Satan Worshiping swine (not my words, by the way) that was her loving older brother?
This all came to light early in the week prior to the concert and some of the local media hopped on the bandwagon.
Despite a rash of sarcastic suggestions from some of the papers who heard about the story from some of the students upset with the administration's handling of the situation - the best of which was to allow the girl to attend the show as long as she wore a blindfold and earplugs - the poor Dean, a slave to his own errant beliefs, finally decided that “little sister” would not be allowed to attend said Devil fest. This was on Wednesday.
Enter surrogate and his two friends, who serendipitously had arrived on campus that very week for their campus check. Would this strange little school end up on the short list for two of them to attend the following September?
By the way, it wasn't a random decision to visit here. A friend of theirs from their own high school who had graduated the year before was a freshman at this college and had invited the boys to check it out, praising it's atmosphere, curriculum enthusiastically.
Normal procedure was to have all guests register at a special office when they arrived at the college. A short but telling questionnaire was handed out to the guests to be filled out. Then it was evaluated by staff for use during short interview sessions that followed. Each guest's purpose of visiting the school was determined as well as the guest's potential to become a prospective "Student for Christ."
Once this little triage was completed, the guests were handed off to various student “guides” for a tour of the facility.
Students deemed prospects were given one sort of tour, and just plain old visitors were given another sort altogether. Non prospects were lead through a short, far less informative tour that focused on the athletic venues and performance halls, as well as the beautiful ivy covered library - and ended exactly thirty minutes after beginning in the visitors parking lot with the guide, virtually shoving the unwanted intruder back into their car and down the asphalt exit road with a short cursory wave signaling that while you may be welcome to drive by anytime, spending any quality time on campus was reserved for the sort of people who looked at life... the “right way”... the prospective student way.
Possible future students, on the other hand, were asked how long they’d like to stay, offered meals, lodgings, plus complimentary tickets for whatever was going on in “Spirit Center” that evening. These tours always ended up the same way too. They ended up at what looked like a spontaneous Bible study group sitting on a shady hill near the “Spirit Center.”
There’d be a guy softly playing wash chords on an acoustic guitar while an incredibly handsome male upperclassman seemingly effortlessly moderated the sparking banter that was the hallmark of recruitment bible study.
Which, it seems, is how surrogate ended up in the parking lot after his little half hour tour wondering where the heck his friends were.
............................................
So. There's surrogate. He's standing in the visitor's parking patiently waiting for his two comrades. He assumed they would be along shortly.
When I say he waited patiently, I mean he waited patiently for the first hour.
During the second hour, he wasn't so patient.
Somewhere in the middle of the third hour, he decided to act! No slouch, our surrogate. Faced with the blatantly obvious, he managed to motivate himself to do at least the bare minimum of scutt work, which in this case was to go and try to find out where his friends were, it having occurred to him by now that if he didn't find them, he couldn't even leave, since the two of them had spit the driving making it a certainty that one of THEM had the car keys.
So then, with loud exhalation and an irritated slap on the car's hood, off he went to find his friends.
Upon making his way back toward the center of the small campus, luckily, he thought, he spotted his two friends right off.
Each of them was sitting with their assigned guides and listening intently to what appeared to be an important discussion taking place all around them. surrogate was just far enough away that he couldn't really make out any of the words being said, but there seemed to be a bit of agitation in some of the voices contributing to the dialog, and now, as he grew closer, surrogate could see that some of the people were obviously angry.
The first sentence that surrogate heard clearly was spoken by a good looking young man who seemed to be at the center of the group, which numbered around thirty. Everyone was sitting in the grass with the exception of this young fellow who seemed to have positioned himself on a chair height wooden stool so he faced the semicircle of other students at the bottom of a small beautifully shaded little knob of land. At first surrogate thought the little bump was a natural part of terrain, but now he saw four little step like contours molded into the sod. This was was some serious landscaping!
"People, please, there's room for everyone's opinion, but let's keep it civil. let's remember who we are and Whose we are!" (I think he meant they'd all decided they were mine and Dad's.)
All the girls were sitting with their legs crossed flat on the ground behind them, their skirts covering to the lawn, most leaning on their own little pile of books. The guys sat crossed legged in the more normal fashion. All the students looked very serious and extremely clean cut.
"Ken, how can they keep her from seeing her own Brother? It's just so uncool!" Whined a granny glasses and braces wearing homely looking brunette, who was otherwise dressed like all the other females in a white polyester turtleneck blouse, bright red velour vest and a pleated blue knee length skirt. (If the uniform sounds a little "Up with People" it's because the very same catalogue company had supplied both groups - the Dean's cousin being the lynchpin in that deal.)
"Now Mary Beth," our blond mediator/moderator/game show host Ken began, "this is a very difficult question. As you know, Dean Wilson is not trying to keep Karen from seeing her Brother. The question is whether it's a proper thing for her to be able to see him PERFORM."
surrogate heard this part of the exchange but had no idea what was being talked about. One of his two friends sat mute, probably not wanting to make waves at least at this point, since it was unfamiliar turf, but his other friend, Joe was not so passive.
"It's not a difficult question. Right is right and wrong is wrong. This is totally bogus." Joe piped up in the jargon of the day. "This Dean guy is a Nazi if he won't let the guy's little sister go to the show, man. Who does he think he is? GOD?"
Ken look nonplussed. "Excuse me. We generally ask guests to refrain from taking part in open discussion time. This is a time for actual students to voice their opinions."
surrogate still had no idea what was being talked about but he could see that Joe was - once again in 70's vernacular - royally pissed. Deciding this was totally intense and therefore, potentially, totally interesting, surrogate plopped down Indian style next to a good looking little blond girl, winked at her and asked, "What's the squabble man?," tossing his head to throw back his foot long mane.
Ken turned to stare at the intruder. "Excuse me sir, who are you? Were you invited to Bible study here today?"
"Bible study? Uh, no man, I was looking for my buds. Wow! Cool guitar!" surrogate gave a thumbs up to the strummer a few feet to his left. The guitarist started to smile in acknowledgment, but feeling Ken's disapproval, shut his face down almost immediately.
Joe answered surrogate's inquiry. "Man, the principal or whatever won't let a girl go to hear BOA Friday night."
"That's not the point, a-hole." Joe spat back. "Her big brother is in the band, man!"
"Bummer fer her dude" surrogate said sympathetically, still missing the larger point.
Ken, realizing he was losing control of both the situation and himself, stood suddenly, causing the books that had been resting on his knee to fly violently forward. Ken shouted "SHUT UP!" his fists clenched.... "Shut up...you, you....FREAKS"
................................................
Ken had stood violently. The books smashed into the face of a cute little sophomore coed who'd been sitting directly in front of him and facing him. Courtesy the spine of the latest pop-pish translation of the New Testament "God and Jesus: Heaven's Tag Team" which landed squarely on the bridge of her nose, breaking it cleanly, it simultaneously snapped her brand new octagonal granny glasses, a bribe fulfilled by her parents just weeks earlier for making the Dean's list for the first time. Had the impact been just a few foot pounds more severe, and the story might have been even more tragic.
It took a few seconds for Ken to realize what he'd done. When awareness greeted him, and he saw the flowing blood, he fainted.
Fast forward ninety minutes. The ambulance has come and gone. surrogate and his two friends are sitting on the floor in a dorm room a hundred yards from the cute little Bible Study amphitheater discussing the events with the rooms two occupants, one of whom was the friend from the hometown of our three boys.
Remember, two of the three of our traveling companions were, indeed, potential applicants to this little college, or at least had been up until they'd heard of the fracas they all discussed now. surrogate himself had been brought up to speed and had begun to see, what he termed the "bogus policy." They were still talking an hour later when there was a knock at the door.
Randy, the friend from home answered and was asked to come out into the hall. A minute later when he returned, he carried with him an envelope bearing the official seal of the college.
The enclosed letter read:
Dear friends in Christ,
First of all, on behalf of our staff and students, I’d like to thank you all for coming to visit us here today. We at (name deleted) Bible College always look forward to welcoming new people into our Christian fellowship. We strive to make everyone feel at home and I hope we’ve succeeded with regards to you three young men.
Our policy is to ensure that all overnight guests are either potential students or family of current students or faculty members. It has become apparent to me that none of you three boys are likely to attend (name deleted) Bible College, and to my knowledge, none of you are related to anyone on the grounds, so I must ask you to leave immediately.
yours in our Saving Lord,
(name deleted) Dean
“What the f*ck?” surrogate stood up quickly, emulating Ken.
“Oh this BLOWS!” Joe said.
Friend number three stood silently shaking his head.
Randy, bearer of the note and long time friend of all three and especially Joe, let his shoulders go slack and bent his head, shamed. “I’m sorry guys. They said if I don’t make you leave I could get kicked out of school myself.”
Joe replied, “Well that about does it for me. I was thinking about applying to this little concentration camp. What do they think? If we’re here for another day or so we’d pollute the water?”
surrogate started fuming like Beluchi in Animal House... which of course hadn’t been made yet and was about a time ten years earlier. (What was it about those small college deans back then, huh? Secular, Bible based... were they all jerks?)
“I’m not going anywhere.” surrogate blasted, sitting back down as roughly as he’d stood just a second or two earlier.
“You have to leave.” Randy said, pleading.
“Nope” surrogate was stoned faced. “Let me think a minute.”
“Oh, screw it.” Joe said - giving in.
surrogate sat still for a full two minutes. Then, coming to some sort of decision asked Randy, “Randy, the Dean’s still sore over the press this whole thing is getting, right?
"Oh, I think so. they hate bad press here." Randy replied and then everyone was once again quiet.
In fact, had there been an old fashioned clock on the wall, you'd have heard it ticking. The silence was deafening.
After a couple of minutes, Joe started fuming again. He wanted to do damage. surrogate sat. Another couple of minutes later he asked Randy, "Where is the Dean's office?"
Randy started shaking his head. "No way. You're not going over..
"Where is the dean's office?" surrogate repeated, interrupting Randy's protest.
Randy's roommate smiled, perhaps sensing more excitement. "Its right behind Mt. Sinai."
"Where's that?" surrogate asked.
"Where the Bible study's are held. Where you just were... where this all went down. It's the building directly behind where Ken sits. Some people say there's a microphone hidden somewhere in that tree so the Dean can listen in on recruitment Bible study."
"OOOhhh. No wonder they got this letter written so fast." Joe said.
surrogate was angry now. "Bastards. Figures." surrogate stood. "Got a phone book?" he looked around the room and seeing one sitting on the desk under the phone, grabbed it and started thumbing.
Finding what he was looking for, he ripped out a little piece of a page, closed the book and put it back under the phone while sticking the little ripped piece of paper into his hop pocket. "You guys stay here" he ordered his friends and stalked out of the room. A second or two later he walked back into the room. "Who's got the car keys?" Joe threw them to him. "I need something from my suitcase."
A half hour later surrogate showed up at the Deans office. He was polite. He asked to see the Dean. The dean's secretary picked up a phone and whispered into it. In a moment she replaced the receiver and pointed surrogate toward a long bench that sat along the wall to the side of her desk.
Surrogate waited patiently for about five minutes.
Then a female police officer arrived in the waiting area and told the secretary she'd been called to escort someone from the premises. Seemingly unsurprised, the secretary again called into the Dean's office to tell him about the arrival of the police officer he'd called. The dean's office door opened and he stood there, phone in hand, looking confused. Talking at first into the receiver and then dropping it to his side as he realized his error, he said to everyone, "I didn't call the police."
surrogate stood then. "I did."
Now the police woman frowned and said "What's going on here?"
The Dean looked genuinely confused. "I...I'm not sure." he said looking at each of the others in rotation.
surrogate said, "I want to talk to you and I didn't think you'd see me so I called the police and told them you wanted someone removed from the premises."
Now the officer was perturbed. "You called?"
"Yes" surrogate said.
"Sir, could we go into your office and straighten this out please? I am very busy. I don't have time for games." the officer said tersely.
"By all means." said the Dean. "Come in. Please."
The Dean having asked his secretary to hold his calls till he told her otherwise as he went back into his office followed by surrogate and the police woman.
Exactly one minute and forty-five seconds later the door burst open with the police officer and surrogate walking quickly passed the secretary, laughing hard. The police officer was straightening her blouse which seemed to be untucked, and was only half buttoned. Surrogate lifted an instamatic and aimed the camera at the secretary as they hurried passed her and said... "Smile!" as he clicked and spun the film advance wheel almost simultaneously. Surrogate stopped, thinking better of something and then walked back to the open door and looked at the Dean. Holding the cmaera up like a gun surrogate said, "And by the way, not only does she get to go to the concert, but if you give my friend Randy any trouble, I don't just send these to student papers, I send them to LOTS of papers. Got it?"
A few minutes later and walking together, surrogate pulled out a fifty dollar bill to give to the strip-o-gram girl, which was actually the last of his money for the whole trip. But she refused it. "Oh I don't want any money. That was more fun than I've had in years!" She was gleeful. "Did you get one of his face in my chest?"
"Nah." surrogate said as they walked back toward the parking lot, opening the back of the camera to show her. "No film."
Good Morning Boys and Girls and Merry Christmas to each and every one of you.
Today is My Day. Jesus Reporting here.
I'm sitting here listening to Brad Mehldau's "Places" CD and staring intermittently out the window at the snow from a fall a couple of nights ago. In the U.S.'s midwest, it's winter the way the songs describe it.
I'm not going to go into any of the usual Chrismas themes you're used to today, although I don't know that this is all that original. Today I'm going to talk about gifts and the responsibility of using them wisely and to the best of our abilities.
And... to make it more clear, I'm not talking about the gifts we give each other to celebrate Christmas or any of the other religions' holidays that fall this time of year. Today, we're going to talk about the gifts we're given at birth. Really special gifts.
In fact, this, or rather these are gifts that perhaps not everyone receives, or realizes they've received.
I'm talking about talent... or talents, for those blessed to have more than one.
One of Father's real disappointments is how many people who are given those special sparks of life, those exquisite morsels of the keys to the universe that can be used to make your world such an amazing place, either never use those gifts, missuse them or in many cases, due to the the conditions of their upbringing or other circumstances, never even discover the magic within themselves.
My Christmas wish for you readers today is that you find ways to use your talents to enrich the lives of others.
Someone out there may figure out a way to sterilize water cheaply and efficiently to make the lives of billions of people better, longer and more disease free.
Someone may write a song, a book, or a treaty - or even a speech - that could change the world for many people who are exposed to the words or music they hear and the thoughts conveyed by the writer's expressiveness.
Someone may figure out a system, that makes sooo much sense that it's willingly adopted by all parties to resolve political differences in a manner that negates the "need" for war. Any war.
For those of you who believe in God, and those of you who think I came to earth as a sign of God's love for the world, please don't make the awful shortsighted mistake that so many do in thinking that I came primarily as a means for believers to ensure an okeydokey afterlife.
If you read what I said, and really think it through, free of the notions driven into you as children, or by some numskull out to capitolize on my good name, you'll start to understand that what I said was always intended to help you live in this life, on this planet, and during your time.
So, find your talent. Develop it. Dream. Pretend that it was given to you to use for the good of all of us. (You won't be pretending, by the way.) And.... work miracles. If you don't feel like you have any talents, find someone who does and help THEM.
So, wish me Happy Birthday, enjoy your day and,
Love God, your friends, yourself and your enemies... Merry Christmas.
Good evening Boys and Girls. Merry Christmas to you all.
Surrogate reporting here, lovingly boyd by a couple of glasses of spiced wine made by one of my housemates to augment the Christmas eve dinner three of the four of us shared a few moments ago. Our fourth is in Germany visiting his family, cutting by one third the testosterone imbalance in the house. Our lone female, the owner of the home, puts up with us with grace and charm, even when we're teasing her mercilessly.
I am the old dog in the house, being over twice as old as the two young interns who room here and I think I'm about fifteen years older than the owner. It's a temporary place for me, but everyone here has been so accepting of me and my horrid habbits - like smoking (which I do outside) and snoring which, (at least till they carry me out in my sleep, like a camp prank) I do inside. For the moment, I feel no pressing urge to find more permenent quarters.
This is a good thing since I'm really not feeling like looking for a permenent address right now, so the arrangement has been more than satisfactory to me. God knows, if asked under oath, how my roommates would respond.
The situation I find myself in is not one I would have chosen, but for now, it's about the best thing I could have hoped for. And I'm thankful.
So, to my housemates, my friends and family, you who may read this that I know, and those of you whom I don't yet know:
Thank you. May you find everything you need either wrapped in a package under your tree, or safely wrapped in your heart, under your head.
Surrogate reporting here today... I've got the big guy out shoveling! HAH! Ain't that great?
I just came in myself and as I write this, milk is warming in a pot for cocoa. God bless the midwest. When we get it... we get it. About eight inches this morning and from what I heard, a possibility of another few inches tonight.
I wanted to touch on Christmas for a day or two and I suppose if I'm going to be timely, it had better be now. Jesus wants to write the Christmas Day post so I'll sneak in here and give you a couple of thoughts I've had today and tomorrow, and then we'll finish up this amazingly stupid story we've been making you folks put up with on the 26th, or Boxing Day, for you Canadian and English readers. Are there any Canadian or English readers? I have no clue.
For me, and for a lot of reasons, Christmas is a holiday I associate with the past. No matter how I try, I'm virtually never in the "Christmas Spirit" unless or until I'm around a couple of little children who are loving it. I can then, for a little while, feel a trace of the spark that in years past would, for me, start around Thanksgiving and build right up to and through the New Year's celebrations.
Maybe it's because I've never properly grown up, or maybe it's because the losses I've suffered feel so severe (though I assure you they're not anything like what billions of people suffer with every day) or, maybe it's because hoping that I'll get the feeling again someday gets in the way of enjoying what should be a most wonderful time of the year.
About four years ago, in what was then my family, the Christmas Season was blackened with a suicide. It happened at Thanksgiving, but because of logistics and the fact that the shock kept any of us from being ready to have a funeral just a few days after the event, we scheduled a memorial service for our loved one the day after Christmas.
It was a touching service. Lots of friends and relatives shared memories. And yet, it kept going through my head, that this had happened, in essence, BECAUSE of the Holidays. This was a lonely person. A wonderful person too, but an incredibly lonely individual whose sense of aloneness, I suspect, was heightened by the onset of the Holiday Season.
I don't think it's necessary to go into any other character traits this person had, at least as far as I could see, but regardless of what they were, what killed him, I think, was that sense of worthlessness that comes from loneliness. And, it isn't that we don't need others, perhaps, that's the salient point, but rather that we don't feel needed by others, ourselves that drives some people already, perhaps, unstable, to make that final and ultimate decision to stop making decisions.
This person, for instance, knew he was loved by friends and family, but I'm quite sure he didn't feel needed by any of us really, and so when the pain got so severe....
So, my thought about all this comes from an old Rock tune by a band called Yes.
"Loneliness is a power that we possess to give or take away forever."
If there is someone you need, even in a small way, let them know it. It may mean nothing to you, but it may mean a whole lot to the person hearing those simple words.
... I know I said I'd be back up to speed by yesterday, but dear beloved son of mine is moving into a new home and I've been helping a bit... so the way it looks to me right now, I'll probably not do a real live posting until Wednesday. I have about twenty minutes here free right now and it's just not enough time to finish what I've started.
Please don't give up on reading our little love fest, but by all means spend tomorrow moaning and wailing cuz we've got nothing new... it'll do the old ego good.... or, you could pretend that I HAVE finished the story and you're so excited by how it all comes out that you can't think of doing anything else besides grabbing the next qualified individual (in your eyes) and dancing with them for hours under the closest sprig of misletoe!... if you do that though, remember, use some lip balm! We don't want any "winter lip" injuries!
Hey Boys and Girls... this is straight from DianeMaire's post from today: http://DianneMaire.tblog.com/... and I've stolen it without permission, hoping she won't mind.
Let me tell you something, this is so well stated and right on the money that I can say with certainty, the sentiments as felt by this caring woman are shared by Father and me.
Conservative Christianity is getting to point where the point is MISSED! And I'm tired of it. I'll post the rest of my tedious three day story either later today or tomorrow. Read this and think about it please - and go to Diane's site to read more.
Faith without works, is dead. ..................................................................
Conservative Christian Weblogs and what they say to me, by DianeMaire Saturday 12.18.04 [12:20 pm]
You can't mix politics and religion. There's no way you can serve both honestly. So, many don't try as evidenced on so many Conservative Christian weblogs. I have seen a few that try hard to be balanced. But, most use their religion to push their political leanings. The following are a few thoughts I have gleaned from said blogs.
If a country is a victim of a terrorist attack it is and act of war. Attacked country may now bomb another country in retaliation even if said country had nothing to do with the attack.
Lying is only considered wrong if done by those in disagreement with us i.e. liberals.
If our leaders lie but profess the name of God it is to be forgiven and overlooked no matter how many died because of the lies, how much was stolen in order to line the pockets of rich corporation heads while leaving entire populations in starvation and poverty.
America is the greatest country in the world and therefore should be the leader of the world in all things. We are not wrong because our greatness proves we are right. God is obviously behind us.
Torture is a useful tool and also to be overlooked as we fight satan.
The Christian faith is the only true faith and all others should be destroyed.
Science is relative and should be ignored. Distort and undermine science in pursuit of political and Christian objectives.
If you don't agree with American thinking you are an enemy and should be part of the axis of evil. France should definitely be added to the list.
If you are American and don't agree with American policy you are a traitor and should think of giving up your citizenship and moving elsewhere.
Christian thinking is no longer about the love of God, forgiveness or love of one's neighbor. It's about revenge and God's hatred of all that is not American or in line with 'our' Christian thought.
God's love is no longer for all. He has recalled his son's death as the atonement for sin and decided it is time to condemn the heathens to hell quicksmart. Recant or face your maker!
Abortion and homosexuality are sin. Gluttony, jealousy, lying, unforgiveness, ignoring the starving, selfishness, and murder are ignored and not spoken of.
Christian thinkers of the past would be in agreement with many Christians today. This is only a short list but it will suffice for the moment. ..............................................................
I'm tired of certain "Christians" giving me and Dad a black eye.
Jesus reporting here. I have no idea where this post will be transferred to blog world from because surrogate has decided to drag me along with him on a little journey westward across the Midwest. I didn't really want to come but he promised some pretty good eats along the way and before I really had a chance to object he'd reached over and clicked the seat belt for me and, POOF! we were on our way.
I don't really like using a laptop and besides every time I try to type something amid the bumps of these less than pristine highways, surrogate points to something along the road, or an exit sign, or a building in the distance and starts to tell inane stories about something in his past that occurred near here, or there, or some girl he used to know that lived 2 miles down from that exit. It's excruciating.
surrogate drinks more coffee than anyone I've ever met in my life. We've been on the road for about three hours and we've stopped twice at drive-thru's, plus, he'd brought one of those giant thermos cups from the house! But, if I mention that some of that promised food might be nice, he just snickers and asks me to do the loaves and fishes thing.
He says he wanted me to come along to meet a couple of friends of his who are... for lack of a better term: in the business. My business... or rather, the ME business. surrogate swears they're great people and that I'll just love them. When I try to explain that I already love them, know who they are, know what's in their hearts, he cut's me off by slugging me. What an ass.
He's right though. They are great people and surrogate's reasons for wanting us to get together are laudable. He thinks it'll be "a summit." (His words, not mine) He's real concerned about a few things he's read lately and thinks that maybe if all of us get together, we can come up with some grand plan to figure out an appropriate response.
I've always thought that was one of the main problems with human beings. Everything has to be part of some "grand plan" or campaign.... why? Do what you do. Incorporate this into whatever it is: Love God, your friends, your foes, yourself...
You pretend that that those four things are in a coffee filter and pour your actions through it before you take'em, or make'em.... or do'em...
Oh my. What a world you'll have.
ALL RIGHT! We're pulling into a chinese buffet! Sign says 130 items!
Got most of this done earlier, but couldn't come up with an opening that made sense. So... no opening.
I apologize for some of my own responses to comments from the other days' blog: just WAR or JUST war. I get so angry over this thing that I sometimes forget that people of good will can differ on how they see things. My tendency is to jump down the throat of anybody who gives even shrugging support to the war in Iraq or counters the argument against it by insisting that some wars can be "just" or at least "Justified" without really coming out one way or the other on this particular war. I shouldn't do it.
Good morning Boys and Girls! -surrogate reporting today.
Whooosh, the wind is a whipping here right now and I've heard there'll be a couple of inches this evening. So... a poem is called for. (The piano guy is playing soft glissandos as we throw our coat off to the side and grab the microphone.... and sincerely, into the camera as it pulls closer....)
"Well a song really."
(with feeling... like a horny Frenchman to an innocent Luisianna school girl... in slow waltz/ time.... Tap your foot.... 1-2-3 here we go....think Jack Jones doing the Love Boat theme at a small dinner theater in Buffalo)
(To be sung to the tune of "My Favorite things")
Cold weather's comin' - I'm really not ready Wind's kicking up today - Blowing real steady I've got-about fifty things to get done Sitting here typing, I haven't done one (great...you're getting it)
(Four bars...1-2-3, 2-2-3, 3-2-3, 4-2-3)
Promised I'd put up some long muslin curtains Fix up a window catch that's-broken, I'm certain Out in the gar-age, there's paint cans to stack How am I sup-posed to care about that?
(1st chorus!) This blog grabs me, keeps me thinking seems like all the time... Though just for this Chorus - I'm working on now I've got to maaaaake........ it rhyme. (oh shut up!)
(Four bars...1-2-3, 2-2-3, 3-2-3, 4-2-3)
Topics run through my head faster than water Headlines and cute words and things that I ought-er Put in the column tomorrow or so Hoping the writing's what's making it grow
(no break)
Really enjoying the feedback I'm getting Most of it's really nice, some is upsetting Hoping the readers will forgive my moods When I get too haughty and show attitude (stretch it....)
(second chorus with apologies to... everyone!) This blog grabs me, keeps me thinking would it be a crime?... oh, how I wish, I got paid for this work then I could spend.........more time
(Okay...ready 2-3, 2-2-3, 3-2-3, 4-2-3) Up a full step!... and softer now - and a little ritard!.....
Oh, how I en-joy the friends that I'm making trading off "zingers", the giving, the taking Writing this column has opened my eyes I start thinking of-it, the moment I rise.
So far this project, has helped make me saner Venting and ranting could make someone vainer Maybe writing as Jesus has helped me a lot I know I'm more thankful, for all that I've got (long stretch!!!!)
(very slow... last chorus people... get with it. whynot, sing in tune damn it - final chorus...bring it home!)
This blog grabs me, keeps me thinking it all seems sublime. Thank you for reading it, It makes my day! please keep reading all (soft pause) - the time do-be-wha-dabbi-bwaaaaaaa haaaaaa
Jesus reporting from my Midwest U.S. temporary headquarters.
A couple of topics today.
• I received a couple of E-mails and a comment about yesterdays posting in which readers seemed to insinuate that I was tacitly approving cheating within marriage because I didn't come right out and call it wrong. -Sorry for not being more specific about my feelings on the matter. You may remember that it's the only grounds on which I suggest that divorce is an appropriate remedy. - And yet, I'd hope that even in circumstances where cheating has occurred by one or both partners within a marriage, real effort would be taken to save the lifelong commitment each has made to the other.
But to be clear: Cheating - REALLY BAD! Do NOT do it. Got it?
• An associated press story that appeared in the Arizona News yesterday described the plight of an American who is seeking political asylum in Canada because he does not want to go to Iraq with his outfit. The story quoted testimony from a former U.S. Marine who said that he'd seen 30 innocent civilians (Iraqis all) killed by troops this past April. His contention was that if the other fellow went to Iraq, he may be forced into a situation where he too would either witness or worse, be forced to take part in, similar events.
This is a prime example of why wars should almost never be fought. Period. Any time human beings are marginalized as collateral damage and are killed, injured, or even just forced to live scared out of their wits all the time, as part of some supposed "greater good" it is wrong, evil, and must be stopped.
Any of you Christians, or good people of any or no faith, out there who have allowed yourselves to be convinced that this is somehow an acceptable thing that is going on, or a "just" war, make me angry with you and your judgment.
This is NOT the same as saying that the troops who are over there don't deserve love and support, but to be quite frank, they are loved by Father and me no more than any other people on the planet and should be brought home immediately. You people were given brains. How can the argument "Sadam was a bad guy" justify this ... CRAP.
You want to do good in the world? There are thousands of ways that would be so much more productive than this. I'll bet without me mentioning a single one, any one of you can think of at least 20 more productive ways to use 160 billion dollars and thousands of American troops... and that with the caveat that whatever was done had to make America more secure!
From a strictly practical standpoint... and even a political one, Who in America really believes that a young Iraqi who has lost his Father or Mother or Sister or Brother or Cousin during this war is likely to grow up loving America for getting rid of Sadam? Aren't they far more likely to grow up having a grudge against America and perhaps be enticed into joining a like thinking band of individuals sworn to avenge their losses?
After all, America has done this to avenge 3000 deaths. What will some of the young Iraqi people do when they've had a chance to think about it to avenge 100,000+ deaths?
Well, America can hope they use the same logic it has. Maybe Iraq will attack Sweden.
I'd intended to talk about more topics today... I got carried away. A few things really piss me off. Two of them are Money Changers in Temples and State sponsored Murder.
Jesus reporting today from the local municipal library's computer bank.
I have to write quick, because they only allow you an hour on the computer if there's anyone waiting, and I was the first one here this morning, which mean's I'd guess that if someone's waiting I'll be the first one asked to give up the keyboard.
So, how to start?
Remember when you were a little person and your parents (or parent or guardian) seemed perfect to you? Well, maybe perfect is too strong a word, but you really assumed that, since they were taking care of you and were older, they knew just about everything there was to know about living this life.
And it generally stays that way for a number of years, till children are between about eight and ten. Then something happens. It can be any of a million things, but something in the every day life of the child will usually trigger it. A mild disagreement, a sudden awareness of what seems an unfair punishment for some misdeed, even a homework problem the parent helped with that is deemed to have been done wrong by a teacher.
Something happens, and just like that *snap!* the parents, have become... just... people.
Of course, if the parents have especially destructive habits - or natures that show the worst side of their characters very often, that moment can come at a much earlier age, but usually it's between eight and ten.
Surely you remember it happening to you.
The same thing happens in relationships, doesn't it? Even in ADULT relationships! (And in Business relationships, Church memberships, Political alliances, heck, it even happens with peoples' relationships with their cars! And, I'm pretty sure those are just machines!)
A man and a woman meet, find something wonderful between them, maybe a spark happens right away or they, over time start to find that they really love being together, and one way or another, they fall in love.
When this happens, people can be very much like the children they were years before. They see the person they love as, if not perfect, near perfect for them. Obvious faults are seen as cute little quirks. Flaws or faults that aren't so obvious are ignored completely.
Over time, even in the best of loving relationships, the bloom falls from the rose here too. And when that happens - REAL love begins.
Let's say that again in another way. And, please, this isn't original but I don't know who said it first, so I can't give credit. Surrogate's Mom was the first person I heard say it, but I know she'd read it somewhere...
We like someone for what they are. We love someone IN SPITE of what they are.
Why is this important?
It might be one of the most important things ever said if it could be absorbed, understood, and put into practice by every single person who ever thinks about getting married or decides to commit to a relationship of any kind with ANYONE, because:
Everyone is flawed. Everyone has habits that will eventually drive another person crazy if that person decides to allow themselves to "see" them all the time.
Love is a decision that you make every day that includes being blind to another person's faults.... even when you, intellectually, know they are there.
Is the grass greener on the other side of the fence?
Read a blog the other day in which the writer talked about how many people cheat on their spouses and significant others. The statistics are astounding, but I think the main reason people cheat is, if not purely sexual, usually because one or both parties are trying to once again find that feeling of magnetism that reminds them so much of being "in love." That sense of childlike wonder where people pretend, for a while, that the other person is, like the parent of a very young child, almost perfect.
The problem is... of course, that pretending - for adults - in their real lives doesn't work and is virtually always destructive. Further, the grass is rarely really greener. Usually it's just a quickly fading, water soluble, dye.
I've been taking some time to think and gather some energy to discuss a couple of things that I think need to be addressed. This one is hard to explain. Please be patient and read slowly if you have time.
People tend to divide themselves into groups as they live their lives. Good, bad, happy, sad, generous, selfish.... And there are lots of kind of groups too.
Any individual person may be able to identify themselves as being member of any number of groups. And, other people may or may not include that person in the same groups in which that individual him or herself might feel they either should or should not be included.
Let me explain. For the purpose of this little exercise, let's say that you're either “in” or “out” of a particular group. For instance, we couldn't use "races" for this example because there are many races of human beings and I’m trying to use examples that are either... well, yes or no... “in”...or “out. But we can use "Human beings," as an example because it's definitely a group, and, obviously, a group that everyone reading this would include themselves either in or out of. Get it? Okay. Let's start. (By the way, if you don’t consider yourself a member of the human race, AND you’re reading this.... find a really good agent!)
Just for fun; try these. Are you “in” or “out” of these groups? Left handed people. People who only like spicy foods. Kind people. Fat people. Rich people. People who like breakfast. People who work for large corporations. People who's jobs make them work late at night. Honest people. People who make more than minimum wage. Truck drivers....
Okay, now, for the most part, all of the groups listed above are, as promised "in" or "out" choices right? Pretty easy to discern whether you, yourself, are a truck driver or not, right?
And you can see how in the case of one or two of the groups listed above, you'd have an easy time deciding whether YOU belong to the group, but trying to make the decision for someone else might be, or at least should be, somewhat tougher. For example, YOU know whether you're an honest person, but can you know how others see themselves? And to press this point a little farther, what if someone else got to decide based on what they know, or think they know about you, whether you are in any of the groups listed above?
Let's add some groups:
Religious fanatics. Reactionary Conservatives. Muslim extremists. Liberal Pinko Commies. Red necks. Feminist extremists. The filthy rich. The lazy poor. Tax and spend liberals. Baby killing pro-choice people. Nut case pro-lifers. Gun nuts. Whacko Jesus freaks. Lying politicians. Terrorists...
A little stranger bunch of groups huh?
And here’s the funny thing: These groups listed above, some of which are purported to be quite large, actually have virtually NO self designated members. Almost every person in these groups is a member only in the minds of others.
Why does it matter? I hear some of you screaming...
It matters because when we assign labels to groups of other people, especially labels that they themselves do not necessarily believe applicable, and names to groups that don’t even really exist, we decrease our ability to get things done in the world.
Too often, the labeling ends up meaning that we don't have to listen, or negotiate, or even give credence to the complaints or concerns of people in the groups WE've created.
And any time we do that - we dehumanize other people... which in turn, dehumanizes us.
And it gets in the way of looking at world events with an eye toward resolving conflicts before they begin, and/or ending them as soon as possible once they've begun.
Good...middle of the night....Boys and Girls! - surrogate again today.
It's 2:57 a.m. as I start this.
I was just outside for a little walk. Real interesting weather outside right now. I felt like it was about to snow for most of my trek, but it must be just above freezing because just as I got back to the house, it started to "big drop" rain, and oh the sound of it!
You know how on cloudy nights it tends not to be as dark as on clear ones? I assume it's because any light from the ground reflects back from the clouds, but I'm really not sure. Well, there was a pretty strong constant wing blowing - maybe 20 miles an hour - and with the night sky the shade of gray it was tonight, along with the sound of the wind blowing through the trees - and the stillness of the neighborhood because of the hour; well, once the rain unexpectedly started coming down, which thankfully was just as I got back under a porch overhang, it was a glorious sensory experience.
I stood under that porch, thankful for my coat, hat and gloves, for about five more minutes just enjoying the weather. I wish I could describe how much fun it was.
Know what it was I think that made it special? I think it was realizing that the weather was really so very close to normal - and yet with each of the conditions individually just slightly exaggerated over what I'd expect to find this time of year, the combination of altered states was really fun to see, hear and feel.
I was awake at this hour for a happy reason as well. Tonight I was present at a dinner party where two groups of friends enjoyed each other's company. As it happens, I was the "lynchpin" of the gathering in that I was the one person who knew everyone there and they came together because I'd invited one person over for dinner. Over the next hour and a half, the plans took on a life of their own and soon we ended up with a larger group than certainly I'd expected, but it ended up being a wonderful time.
I'd initially been a little worried because as the invite list inadvertently grew, it dawned on me that it wasn't my home, and here I was inviting people to visit. And where I'd felt comfortable asking one person to come, I'd worried that by asking more folks to join, I might be imposing on the hosts. Well reassured by these warm and gracious people over and over that they were glad to have the company, I finally allowed myself to relax and enjoy the unfolding evening. And it was fun.
Went to bed about midnight, but when I woke up to satisfy old Blatty the Bladder, for some reason I decided a walk was in order before I went back to sleep. Like so much else this evening, prompted by a desire for simple pleasure, it was a spur of the moment decision.
Good afternoon Boys and Girls, surrogate here today.
Well, time's gotten in the way today. There have been the usual number of hours between sunup and now, but somehow they've been filled with lots of silly little projects that, though they do fill the hours handily, leave neither a real sense of accomplishment or seem to have made any real difference in the course of anyone's life, including mine. So what I am left with is a feeling that no one ever has more thoroughly wasted a day than I have this day.
I had plans to write a decent piece today. The idea's been fermenting well, bubbling into what I'd hoped would be funny little ditty, a perfect little "ding" with which to start off the weekend. Not heavy, not controversial. just a little uplifting idea that might bring a smile or two. And the day dragged on.
Each little task seemed to take exactly 25% more time than I'd allowed leaving each subsequent chore with less time to accomplish it. And, by virtue of rushing each one a little more just to be done with my own mental "to do" list, I increased the chances that I'd screw one of them up, which of course would lengthen the process and further spoil my mood.
As this process squeezed my patience from both sides, I realized that this wasn't the day to write a cheerful little blog entry. It would come off flat and phony.
Finally though, I thought I managed to slip by Mr. Murphy and his law unscathed and felt ready to forgive myself for feeling as ornery as I did.
So I sat a while ago to write what you're reading now, a column about why I haven't written the column I intended to write. And slowly as it's come together, I've started to realize something. Maybe.
Since we all have tons of days like this sprinkled throughout our lives, and we all know that we spend some of our time tired, frustrated, or wishing we were doing something, hell anything, other than what we are doing at any given moment, then just maybe these sorts of days have a purpose for us.
Maybe these days are gag gifts meant to impress upon us how good other days can be.
Good morning Boys and Girls, surrogate reporting today.
So. Must have been like three o'clock in the morning and my old bladder decided to make me get out of my warm bed and traipse down the hall to the toilet. I get really annoyed by this habit it has of not keeping it's bargain with the rest of my organs to wait until morning to exercise it's function. But no. It's the squeaky wheel in the works and if you try to pretend you don't hear it's whine, well, let's just say it has a way of being persistent that precludes ignoring the thing.
So, I climbed out of bed, and started toward the bathroom when I damn near ran into my house mate who had come out of her room and was busily looking for something. I excused myself for almost bowling her over and used the bathroom, cursing said bladder all the while. When I came out of the john, she asked me if I'd seen the phone. I said I thought I had it in my room.
She'd been out of the country for the past week and since, during her absence, I was around the house more than anyone else and I'd tired of running around looking for it when it rang, I'd taken the phone into my room and placed it near my computer, where I spend an inordinate amount of time.
I know there are least three land line phones in the house, but this is the one that all four of us tend to use for answering incoming calls when we're on the first floor. I'm pretty sure we're all slaves to our cell phones for 90% of our calls, collectively, but this phone does ring to the "house number" and all of us answer it. The charger for this particular phone is in the bathroom but unless it's charging, most of the time is ends up in one of five or six places in either the dining room, kitchen or living room.
So I went to look for it in my room. Didn't immediately see it with just ambient glow from the next room, but before I got to the switch to light things up, the phone buzzed and lit up, showing itself to be on the back of my couch, less then two feet from where I'd thought it was, but just far enough away from where I'd assumed it rested, that in that dim light, it had been almost invisible against the couch's dark upholstery.
I picked the thing up and handed it to my house mate who was at that moment walking out of the bathroom where she'd gone to press the button that activated the phone's light and buzzer which, in turn, had made it so easy for me to find. I thanked her for the assist and went back to bed.
And before sleeping again, I was struck by a thought: We need buzzers like that in our lives that warn us when we're either lost or traveling in places that require constant course correction to keep us from getting too far afield. And we should get to carry the bases in our hip pockets.
Perhaps that's exactly what our consciences are.... if we'd listen.
Surrogate, surrogate, surrogate. You sad sack goof ball!
You give me the day off and you fill this Blog with all that pissing and moaning you did yesterday? You ever hear of Hope? You ever hear of Faith?
Come on, old boy. Did nothing I say ever get through that thick skull of yours? Get your focus re-aimed and make sure it's not aimed back at you. You want to get over your depression? You want to get over your heartache? It's really not that difficult and I know you KNOW this cuz, you've discussed it a zillion times before.
Listen and learn damn it. You love God? You love your friends, yourself and your enemies? You say you try to, but especially that loving yourself thing gives you fits? I know. Can be tough. But, quit thinking so much about yourself and your "feelings." Go out and do something for someone else. You'll be amazed.
If you still feel lousy, do it again... and again.... and again. Slowly, your heart will open and you'll feel like even the things you hope for aren't "IMPOSSIBLE" any more. IMPOSSIBLE? Really. You ought to be ashamed even using that word. I promise you that eventually, you'll start feeling better and when you do, the kinds of things that will start to happen to you and in your life will be absolutely freaky.
What happens is a little bit strange I suppose, but eventually, you'll understand it so clearly that you won't be ale to believe you ever had any doubt in the first place. As you slowly start to understand that your actions and thoughts actually affect things that you might swear are completely beyond your control. I know this sounds loony toons, but, hey this ain't just anybody telling you this. Got it surrogate?
Wishing and hoping are not one in the same. Quit wishing, start hoping.
If it still seems confusing in six months, we'll talk then.
Good afternoon Boys and Girls, surrogate here today.
How many of us have Christmas wishes we absolutely know won't come true? How many of us will go through this season knowing it won't be what we hoped it could be? How many of us will go through the motions and make the best of what we have but KNOW it could and should be so much more meaningful if our simple, yet impossible wishes were fulfilled?
And of course I'm not talking about wishing for things here. Things tend to mean less and less to most of us as we get older, perhaps only because we have had the opportunity through living a while to understand that no "thing" ever made us the least bit happier or more content, and our needs and desires shift to wishing and hoping for situations to change, or relationships to be magically repaired, or people we love to love us back.
And, with these sorts of wishes, even talking to a close friend or confidant about them doesn't make the ache, or loss, or void, be healed, found or filled. And so eventually we realize that even if we speak of them often, the true essence of the matter is never spoken about at all. Because all we can do is tell others how these impossible wishes make us feel, which is five or ten layers less deep than where the conversation would have to be to actually have any meaning.
The people with whom we have much contact at all can see our pain as clearly as we feel the unsatisfying sympathy and empathy they do their level best to show us - which on our part, leads to guilt and shame, and incredible depression.
And, we can't figure out why what we want or need is so elusive and unattainable.