Archive for June, 2013
I rely upon the only remnant of my high school physics course that still resonates with me, other than the obvious forces that occur around us every day, as a pattern of life. I was introduced to the concept of crests and troughs as they applied to sine waves…truly boring stuff. The crest is the maximum part of the wave, and the trough consequently is the minimum. It’s part of the cycle. Of course the scientists who first identified this theory drew their reference from the sea, and how it ebbs and flows. As a coastal dweller, I envision the ocean’s crests and troughs rather than a sine wave because, well, I couldn’t really tell you what a sine wave is. If it wasn’t obvious, I got a C- in that physics class . It occurred to me one day that life is a lot like the ocean, or a sine wave, for you left brained folks. As I’ve traveled my life, I’ve seen a series of ups and downs, and not just in my own, but in the lives of those I know and love. I’ve come to believe that life itself is a series of waves, of crests and troughs. We’re always going to have highs and lows, and it’s how we surf the wave, manage our way through and maximize our time at the crest that defines us, and our happiness. On the flip side, we have to also lessen and mitigate our time in the troughs. They’re going to happen, it’s life after all. But how we battle adversity is also a defining factor, and sometimes I think it’s a better indicator of our character. I find myself, as I’m sure we all do, seeking the perfect balance. Lessening the gap between the highs and lows…but not too much though, as I truly think we need both to keep us feeling all of life. If we eliminate the crests and troughs completely, all that’s left is a flat line…
Minimize and Maximize Friends, as it works for you,
Mike
A Way to Live
Posted: June 29, 2013 in In My LifeTags: Activism and Peace Work, Arts, Common sense, Desiderata, God, Max Ehrmann, Peace, Religion and Spirituality
A few years ago I came across a poem by Max Ehrmann, called Desiderata. I was fascinated by how he put together a common sense manual for living our lives, and the more I read it the more I’ve tried to incorporate it into my daily existence. It just makes sense, but it’s sense that often abandons us when life or emotion gets in the way. I revisit these words when I need grounding, and sometimes guidance. Please take a moment, absorb the message, and Strive to be Happy (footnote, Max Ehrmann, 1927). Oh, and my biggest challenge is listening to the dull and ignorant…just me, mind you.
Just Taking Kindly the Counsel of Years,
Mike
My friends, I’ve talked about my love of music, but I’ve yet to describe Head Crinkle music. It’s music that reaches the deepest part of us, something so pretty, so right and so amazing that it makes your head crinkle when listening to it. You become a part of the song. It’s just that beautiful. It’s involuntary, it’s just a reaction, and try as you may, you can’t ignore it. It’s a habit of mine to troll YouTube for interesting music, and a few years ago I was listening to various artists’ versions of Hallelujah, and came across these guys. The harmonies they produce are nothing short of perfection, and each has their own particular voice and style. I won’t belabor it, but just give this a listen, and let me know what you think.
Peace All,
Mike
It’s the third day of summer, and the denizens of Hampton Roads know that means it’s storm season. You can be enjoying a beautiful day without a care, and 20 minutes later you’re dodging raindrops and lightning bolts. Thankfully, the storms tend to be brief, and the sun soon chases them away. While I hate the guessing game, I’ve come to realize that I have my own personal barometer, cleverly disguised with black fur and big brown eyes. Trouble senses the drop in pressure prior to the storm, and alerts me by gluing herself to me. When the storm arrives, she’s inconsolable, leaning into me and shuddering. I hold her, and stroke her ears and murmur sweet nothings, but she’s under the control of the weather. It’s a helpless feeling. As the thunder subsides, she’s still shaking, but will usually give me a tentative face lick. It’s her way of saying thanks. I don’t have children, but it’s in these moments that I understand the responsibility I have for another life. It’s my job to chase away the monsters, and let her know everything is OK. I reassure her when she’s doubting, and soothe her when she’s upset. It’s in these moments that I truly feel content and loved for who I am.
Peace Friends,
Mike
It was recently pointed out to me that when I reference The Bee in my posts about the Black Dog, it’s not clear what I’m referring to. The term is a shortened version of frisbee. Bee…get it? And I read somewhere that keeping your dog commands to a single syllable helps them process it easier, and of course it rolls nicer off the tongue. Gitchyer Bee! Those who know me well know that I’m a fan of nicknames, acronyms and made up monikers. I’m not sure why, it’s just my way of personalizing my relationship with someone. I work with Special K, T-Dub and Z. I pick up my dry cleaning from Brown Sugar (his idea, but I like it!). I have Lumpy, PB and Larry (a female) as college buddies. And if you have a magnificent last name, then I’m going there. I have a client I call Bergenholtz…because it’s her last name and it’s wonderful and unique. I’m also that guy that reads every name tag and responds with a personal greeting. It’s there to inform us of who the person is, correct? Well, then thanks Sharon for ringing up my groceries, and I appreciate the courtesy Hank as you write up my oil change. (His is stitched into the shirt, even better!) Our name is a big piece of our identity, and I don’t know about you, but I love it when someone addresses me by name, or nickname, for that matter. It creates a social intimacy that’s lacking in a lot of our daily interactions. Well…I like it almost all the time. It really sucks when a nickname is bestowed upon you that you don’t particularly like. Case in point…Chip…yeeeaaahhh…that one got stuck on me in high school and it took YEARS to shake. To this day, my college buddies, the aforementioned Lumpy, PB and Larry know me as Chip. Grrr. But you know, when I think about it, it’s a very good thing…as I’m sure I’m the only Chip they know, but most likely they know a lot of Mikes. Much like I only know ONE Special K, T-Dub, Z, Lumpy, female Larry, PB and Bergenholtz. We’re all unique, as we all have our own special set of qualities, good and bad, that make us who we are. Shouldn’t we all have a name that sets us apart? Just me mind you…Oh, and don’t call me Chip!
As Always, Peace Friends,
Mike (And only Mike thank you very much)
As I set about my Saturday chores, I have a four legged shadow. She wanders around while I make the bed, then she’s at my heels as I go about my day. She knows it’s Saturday. I’m here past 7:30 and she has full grasp of the opportunity. Never mind that we had a great frisbee session this morning. I’m active, and that means she needs to be so too, lest she miss something. Taking out the trash is all of a sudden a wondrous venture OUTSIDE…however brief, she makes the best of it. Washing the remnant dishes from dinner…(yeah, I slacked) has her pacing, obviously hoping for a T-R-E-A-T, as the kitchen is the staging area for treat giving. As I bundle my dry cleaning it becomes clear to her that we have to “go for a ride”. The jangle of the keys sparks a doggy spin, with a soft woof. I utter the actual words…”wanna go for a ride?” and she is in heaven. Standing at the door while I gather my requisites, she’s impatient. Then the door is open and she springs onto the deck. Chuckling, I walk out and again the hound is at my heels…looking to me for guidance. A brief detour to pee, again, (how much pee can a normal dog have?) and she bounds into the car. I roll down the window and she immediately pops her head out. As we head down Shore Drive the Black Dog is loving the wind in her face, and she gets the occasional smile from nearby motorists. At every stop I have to remind her that I’ll be right back…and she’s good with that. A quick nuzzle and I handle my chore, then return to the black car and the black dog. She’s somewhat indifferent until we’re in motion, then the head pops out of the window and she’s loving life. I can’t really describe how much I like this. I drive my car every day…but when I have Trouble hanging her head out, for some reason it’s cathartic…I find myself glancing back and I channel a bit of the joy that she’s feeling. I wish life was this simple…a quick ride with my head out of the window and I’m happy. But…and I hate that word…we’re not dogs…I thank the higher powers that brought them into our lives…to comfort us, to be our friends, to be our copilots.
Hug Em if You’ve Got Em,
Mike
I hear a bit of rustling, and I crack open my eyes. Light is starting to leak into the room, and I hear the birds chirping. Good. It’s the beginning of the light time again. I hear the boy leaving the room, but I’ll lay here for another few minutes, hours or days…whatever, I have no sense of time. I’ll just wait until I hear the gurgly thing that makes the house smell funny. Ok, it’s time…I stand up and stretch yawn…man that’s good. Let’s see what the boy’s about. There’s a light and the boy is in front of the gurgly thing. Wait, he sees me! “Morning Sunshine”…I have no idea what that means, but I like the way he says it. He scratches my head and I just know this is going to be a good day. He sits down and the light box comes on…oh man, how long is this going to last? I curl up a few feet away so that I can fix him with my saddest stare. I have to pee dammit, and the boy better recognize. He watches the light box for 600 years and then gets up. Where’s he going? Back to the bedroom…I’m perking my ears for the sounds I want to hear. Hmmm…nothing of interest so far…wait, that clanking sound is a sign…that’s the sound of pants and a belt! I bolt to the room to make sure he knows I’m up for anything. I know if I wag my tail really hard it gets his attention. “I know girlfriend, we’re getting ready to go”…I know that one…I’m the girlfriend, and we’re going to that magical place…OUTSIDE! He walks away and I dutifully follow. Can’t let him think I’m not ready for adventure. Oh man, he just grabbed the stringy things…I feel it bubbling up, and I just have to dance…just have to Butt Dance! I’m so happy I can’t help myself, so I’m shaking my butt on the stringy things, all the while the boy is laughing and pushing me away, but I know he really means come back and dance faster. He gets up and walks to the special door, and I hear the sweet sound of it opening and he disappears…then he’s back with my Bee. I spin twice and wag my whole body. He throws it down and walks to the big door, the OUTSIDE door. I just stare at him, daring him to say this is just a dream. “Get your Bee” he says and opens it. I pounce on my Bee and hurry out, so excited my boy is taking me outside, and with my Bee, no less. As I snatch that first throw out of the air, I think, he’s such a good boy, such a very good boy!
In My Life... 