Category: Philosophy

Over the last few days, we Americans, have recognized two important dates.  The first we all remember because we get the day off from work and get to play.  The other probably went by without too much fanfare.  Both recognize the valor of those who paid the ultimate price, or were willing to do so; and by grace didn’t.  But, what about the others?

The others; the parents, spouses, children, friends, and survivors; will we remember them?  We are a free country because of those who were willing sacrifice.  Those who were left behind had to pick up their lives and move on.  They too should be remembered.  The pain and suffering of their loss and the scars left by war carried on in them long after the guns were silenced.  They built businesses, homes, families, communities,  and all the while carrying the hidden scars of war in their hearts.

They’ve never asked to be remembered or honored, but they are and have been the fabric and foundation of who we are today.  As we remember Memorial Day and D-Day, let’s also take a little time to remember those survivors.  The ones left behind who built a country.

 

A strange thing happens when you move.  Your entire life’s belongings are sorted, wrapped, and packed….in boxes.  Amazing how insignificant all those cherished things seem to be when all cubed up, tightly wrapped in brown paper, cardboard, and tape.  You can put anything in a box.  Somethings go together and somethings are a disjointed conglomerate, unrelated and precious; and yet still stuffed in a box.

You can put anything in a box.  How often have people put you in a box?  How many times have you put someone there?  How many times have you put yourself in one, just to feel safe?  Life is neater when everything, and everyone, fits in a box.  Especially, if the box is of your making.  Simple, clean, orderly, tightly wrapped and tapped; everyone and everything fits.

An interesting thing about boxes; you’re not really going to know what’s in them until they’re opened. Sorta like Christmas, only the wrapping isn’t quite as festive.  Every box is an adventure of discovery.  Every piece of wrapping paper unveils special items and memories.  Finding just the right place to proudly display the cherished item is the rest of the fun.

And so it is with us.  Unwrapping and escaping our box; or, better yet, opening someone else’s box and letting their uniqueness be proudly shown for all the world to enjoy.  Resist the efforts of those who would put you in any box.  But more important; resist, with even more energy,  your inclination to box anyone else, lest you be boxed along with them.

Now…back to the boxes; a Memorial Day Christmas; ironically appropriate time to remember and find those lost treasures.

Never Fear the Dream…..

All of us can look back and remember someone who has unselfishly helped us get to where we are today.  Nature routinely gives us the best images of how we probably should be living our lives.

For those of you in your twilight years, know you still have an amazing amount to give and share.  Some of you will feed the souls and minds of future generations well after you are gone.

For those of you in your dawning years, seek out those who can and will mentor.  Be patient, respectful and gracious; if you’re willing you will benefit immensely.

The symbiotic relationship is rewarding and essential for our global society to continue to exist and flourish.  Just as it is in nature…..

Never Fear the Dream

Roaming through the house with my little jar of spackle looking for holes to fill.  All the rooms packed up and now trying to remember what picture or memento was there just a few days or even hours ago.  Small holes, big holes each needing its own personal dab of spackle and then touch of paint to be lost amidst the grandeur of the wall, fixed and forgotten.  But the slight blemish still there for the discerning eye, no matter how good the repair or how grand the wall might be.

How often do we move through life making holes, small ones and big ones, and never consider going back to repair each one of them?  Sometimes forgetting we made a hole.  Sometimes not even knowing we did.  And when we recognize the hole was made, trying as hard as we can to remember why we made it.  What was so important for us to make the hole in the first place?  As we look back, while repairing the impact, maybe we should have been looking forward, pondering if this is a hole we’ll have to repair.  What if we don’t? What if we can’t? All the while knowing, if we make the hole it can never, ever, be fully repaired; always, forever a blemish.

Not trying to erase memories or fade into the greater landscape of mankind; but, trying to think about the holes we have made as well as those we have.  Some which need to be filled, some which we want to fill; and knowing there is a difference.

Hmm, this is a rather large hole, wonder what was hung here; hope it was worth it.  Spackle and paint…spackle and paint…

Never Fear the Dream….

There are a few things in life we can count on, by embracing them we can become better:

• A list of goals isn’t a strategy….
• Everyone makes a difference; you need to know, and believe, you do…
• Change is constant; might as well take advantage of it….
• If you’re trying, can count on making mistakes; don’t make the same one twice, just keep trying….
• There is always something new to learn and you can learn something from everyone; if you’re willing to do so….
• Opportunity is always knocking; prepare yourself to answer the door…
• There is a difference between knowing you’re valuable and believing you’re irreplaceable; don’t underplay one and over play the other.

And finally,

• Victory laps are for those who’ve never won, champions simply line up for the next challenge….be a champion….

 

Never Fear the Dream

Today, completely unexpected, a childhood family friend sent me a note simply thanking me for accepting him, and his family, and being able to wear the ‘friend’ label with pride.  I was, and am, touched.

You see, we were in a West Texas high school in the mid-70’s.  Our parents were from the deep south.  The country was still wrestling with racial tensions, the events at the 1968 Mexico City Olympics, the tumultuous ending of the Vietnam war, and of the Nixon presidency.  We were in sports and class together, he and his brothers along with mine. They came to my home, without any pretense, not demanding respect but as guys, who made it natural to be accepted and respected, just because how they treated us.

You see, it isn’t about demanding or expecting to be respected.  It’s about acceptance and recognizing each of us have something to contribute. As I labored one summer on a farm chopping weeds in cotton fields,  my Grandfather counselled me..”a wise man learns something from everyone.”  I was the only one on the crew who spoke English. I learned a lot, and never said a word.  Our respective parents taught us to watch and listen, not yell. They taught it’s not what you are, but who you are.  They showed us how to welcome, accept, and befriend anyone; until they proved your friendship not warranted.

You see, it’s never mattered that Big T is a proud, gentle giant of color. I’m proud to call him and his family long time, enduring friends; not because I have to to be politically correct, but because I want to.  Our paths haven’t crossed for years but the lessons our parents taught us and how we engaged each other, as kids, has been a lifelong lesson in acceptance and respect; and how to reciprocate…..

Never Fear the Dream….