Morning Coffee

I'm sitting sipping my coffee in my favorite chair in my dining room. In that moment in the quiet of the morning, the sun not up yet, I realize it's the perfect moment. Not perfect in the sense of everything arranged just so or everything aligned to the boundaries of a perfectionist mentality. Perfect in the sense of simple. The simple moments are the most profound and usually the most overlooked. Sipping coffee in a favorite chair at the favorite time of day. What could possibly be better than that?

A Man and His Dog

I had a very odd yet comforting dream about 3.45 this morning. I was sitting in what would be a back living room or TV room in what felt like a 50s to 60s era house. The walls were darkly paneled and I was sitting in a recliner. Beside me was was my dog with lots of grey hair, content in his old age. The sliding glass doors to the yard were open and a warm breeze was flowing in billowing the curtains silently and softly. I could smell the outside and I walked out onto a small concrete patio. The sun had that blinding freshness to it that springtime has sometimes. I could see the houses on either side, the lawn was a vibrant green, and everything was perfectly quiet in a serene and calming way. He was standing beside me and everything felt so absolutely immediate. I felt completely and utterly present and the moment seemed to last in a weird sense of "arrival" as if this was the moment I had been moving towards my whole life. I understood the past and how it helped propel me to the exact moment on that back patio, and it all felt so right and comfortable. Almost like wrapping it all up around me like a nice blanket. My dog looked up at me as if to say, "Yup. This is where it's all supposed to be, and it's just you and me sharing it and we don't need any words to understand what it means."

It was such a powerful (only word I can think of, even though it's way overused!) image that even now it brings a lump up in my throat thinking about and feeling how profoundly serene it was.

The Shopping Cart Theory

The shopping cart is the ultimate litmus test for whether a person is capable of self-governing. To return the shopping cart is an easy, convenient task and one which we all recognize as the correct, appropriate thing to do. To return the shopping cart is objectively right. There are no situations other than dire emergencies in which a person is not able to return their cart. Simultaneously, it is not illegal to abandon your shopping cart. Therefore the shopping cart presents itself as the apex example of whether a person will do what is right without being forced to do it.

No one will punish you for not returning the shopping cart, no one will fine you, or kill you for not returning the shopping cart, you gain nothing by returning the shopping cart. You must return the shopping cart out of the goodness of your own heart. You must return the shopping cart because it is the right thing to do. Because it is correct.

A person who is unable to do this is no better than an animal, an absolute savage who can only be made to do what is right by threatening them with a law and the force that stands behind it.

The shopping cart is what determines whether a person is a good or bad member of society.

Do you put your cart back?

Brought to You by the Letter C

When Tom Cruise says, "You complete me," in the movie Jerry Maguire it sounds so romantic. He found the love of his life. He's complete now! Not so fast. Nothing could be further from the truth. A friend explained this notion of completeness (what I choose to call wholeness) to me, and it hit me square between the eyes. It's so profound and clear in its simplicity, and once I understood it, my whole perspective changed. It goes like this:

If we are not whole with ourselves we look like the letter "C." We have gaps in our make up.

If we're like Jerry Maguire and we find someone (or something) that we feel makes us whole, we look like this: 

The catch here is we feel whole but we're not. All we've done is fill in the gap with something external and temporary. It's a guarantee that feeling of wholeness will disappear when the novelty of what's filling the gap wears off.

If stop looking outside ourselves for fulfillment and we start looking internally we eventually will look like the letter "O."

We have a sense of wholeness independent of any other factors. Then and only then can we go forward as the whole person we've been trying to be. Pretty simple, huh?
And pretty profound if you ask me.

Family Tapestry

I've spent a good deal of my Shelter in Place COVID quarantine time working on my family tree project. Researching one's family history can be tedious, exhausting work. It is however also incredibly fun and satisfying. It's like eating potato chips, you can't have just one. I found myself late into the night saying to myself, "Just one more. Just one more clue to look into. One more census record to review." It becomes like a jigsaw puzzle. The picture of my family, the mysteries of what was beyond my immediate great grandfathers starts to take shape with each piece I find that fits.

I've found people I've never heard mentioned before or had any inkling of. One member is my third paternal great-grandfather Orange, born in Virginia in 1775 and died in Ohio in 1824. My eighth paternal great-grandfather was Thomas born in 1623 and died in 1690 and was a resident of Jamestown! I've even gone back as far as my 11th paternal great-grandfather John who was born in Twickenham, Middlesex, England in 1517 and died there in 1558.

In researching my family I've come to think it not so much as a tree but as a tapestry. Every thread is someone who has created this precious work of art. And each one, even as far back as 500 years ago, has had a direct influence on who I am, the man sitting in this very moment typing these words on his laptop. As I've uncovered more and more family members the same set of questions and ideas always comes to mind. What would they think of me? What would I think of them? What would we find we have in common? What would we talk about? Would they be as fascinated by me as I would be by them? Would the distance of time between us be a rift so great that my 500-year old ancestors could not possibly relate to me or comprehend the world I live in? Would we even like each other? As I fall asleep at night I imagine all of us in a room together. All of us anxious with our questions, excited and fascinated by what the answers might be.

Criticism

A simple and profound truth. 

 

The Secret Mission of Dogs

Last week my partner and I brought home Rufus. He's a 4-year old, 23 pound, purebred, AKC registered French Bulldog. Within days my heart had been melted and I loved that little guy more than anything else in the whole wide world. I realized that's the secret mission of every dog; melt their owners heart with unconditional love and affection. Some days he's an obstinate little gremlin, but I wouldn't have him any other way!

A dear friend sent a box of goodies for him from chewy.com. Inside was a stuffed unicorn toy that he absolutely loves and can't be without. Watching him tear into it is both comical and heart-warming. Click the video above and prepare for snuffles and grunts of cuteness. Be sure to turn up the volume!

Third Act Wisdom

“When I talk about figuring out my Third Act I'm not talking about making plans. I'm talking about being disciplined enough to learn what my past has to teach me, brave enough to take those lessons into my heart, to own them, and commit myself to doing what is necessary to make them a part of my future.”
— Jane Fonda, “My Life So Far”

The Awareness of Coffee

I was making the morning coffee and I suddenly had an overwhelming sensation. It was as if each step in making the coffee was its own plane I was moving through. I could see the ones behind and the one in front. It gave me a sudden sense of immediacy and hyper awareness. The task of making coffee itself became like something almost removed from time itself and there was a sort of organic or living joy to the task.

My friend Dan said I seemed to be adopting the mental attitude and existential meaning of the Japanese Tea Ceremony. I like that. 

Cheating at Cards and the Timeline of Self Awareness

I had the strangest dream last night about playing a card game called 21. Not the usual 21, though. This involved a random "20" card, almost like a wild Joker card. I was playing with a guy who was cheating. He'd stash the 20 card in his waistline and pull it out to win the hand just at the time when I thought I had him beat. I realized he was cheating when I noticed this enormous wet spot in his crotch. He had pissed himself. "He must really have a huge bladder," I thought to myself in the dream, because his pants were the heavy Carhartt canvas-like material that would be difficult to soak. In the dream I thought to myself he must be nervous about cheating at the card game, otherwise he wouldn't be wetting himself. In my typical fashion, I didn't say anything. I let go of the obvious thing that should be called out as unacceptable. I ignored it, as I always do, in order to not rock the boat or cause trouble. As the card cheating continued and he got more nervous about being discovered the wet spot got bigger and bigger from wetting himself. As his wet spot got bigger I became more frustrated. Not frustrated with his cheating but with my not saying anything. My actions in my dream mirrored my actions in my waking life. I never speak up. I always let things go. I'm always the one to "go along" with everyone else even it makes me unhappy. As long as everyone else is content, my misery, my silent unhappiness is a small price to pay. Waking up I wondered what could this dream mean? What does my personal behavior have to do with a man wetting his pants from cheating at cards?

As quickly as I asked myself the question the answer came to me. The man's growing wet spot was a symbolic "dream challenge" testing the limits of my ability to ignore things that make me unhappy. How long could I accept unacceptable situations sacrificing my own happiness in the process?

In that moment I could clearly see the path from never saying anything, afraid to upset anyone, to the frustration I feel with things. The connection was clear. Suddenly, I could pick out instances all throughout my life where I haven't stood up for my choices or opinions. It was all laid out before me like dots on a timeline. This particular thing in 1972, that incident in 1985, etc. And I could see the product of those dots, how I've arrived here at this present dot on the timeline. I was able not only to see, but also understand, how this has led to the smoldering frustration below the surface I feel most of the time It's been so constant and pervasive for so long I was unaware of it. I couldn't see the forest for the trees.

I've now gone through most of my morning with a new perspective and a sense of empowerment. My vow isn't to do away with this outmoded thinking in one stroke and replace it with some sparkling, brand new mentality. It will take time. Being more consciously aware of when these thoughts and feelings arise in me. Taking them individually, one at a time. Tackling it encounter by encounter, day by day. My happiness and sense of self expects nothing less. 

The Mindfulness of the Wrong Shoes

I just had a good lesson in mindfulness, the Snowball Effect, compartmentalization, and gratitude.

I ordered a cool pair of shoes about a month ago and my normal shoe size wasn’t right for these shoes. I need two sizes bigger for a proper fit. I immediately sank into an all-encompassing despair that went from, “Damn. The wrong size!" to "Why can’t anything ever work out right for me?!” and the image of me as an old man living in some broken down apartment looking back on a life filled with bitter regret and missed opportunities. Funny, huh? 

For starters, I immediately realized I’m grateful for that moment. It reminded me that mindfulness is not about perfection. Nor is it any sort of acceptance of struggle, putting a smiley face on unhappiness. One can be the most mindful, calm, and accepting person in the world and it’s still okay to be upset and disappointed sometimes. Even about the size of a pair of shoes. It doesn’t mean I’m less mindful or I’ve failed some cosmic test of temperament. "Oops. You got mad about something trivial. You should've known better! We're going to have to take your Mindfulness Merit Badge away." It means I’m human, just like everyone else.

Second, the wrong shoes has absolutely nothing to do with the rest of my life. They are not partners out to "get me." The wrong shoe size isn't an omen for the rest of my existence. The wrong size shoes doesn't mean a lonely and bitter Third Act. That’s all internal programming from the past. It’s that record the ego puts on the turntable any chance it gets to play the same song over and over. It's the ego's way of tricking me to staying in place, right where it wants me.

Which brings me to the gratitude part. In the midst of a deadly pandemic I’m losing my shit over a pair of shoes?! There are people in hospital rooms in this COVID crisis fighting for every breath alone with no family to hold their hand, no spouse to comfort them in their final moments, and I'm complaining about shoes. How dare I. There are families in this crisis who don't know where their next meal will come from or how they're going to survive. Literally. I need to remember this. I need to be quiet and be still. I need to keep this lesson close and remember it as I move step by mindful step forward in a humble and grateful fashion. 

Steve Martin

The Healing Snow

It's snowing again here in Chicago. That's twice this week, and in April of all months. Watching it falling so gently and quietly through my dining room windows a single notion keeps overwhelming my thinking. This is the Earth's way of saying, "Stay inside. I'm not ready for you to come back out yet. I'm not done healing from the damage you've done." 

A Solitary Walk

I’ve taken to each day after work taking a nice mile or so walk around the neighborhood. Today being colder and the snow flurries on and off all afternoon made it feel like mid to early-late Autumn. The clouds had that Fall look, stark white and billowing on top, flat and grey on the bottom. The cold wind gusts only added to the Autumn feeling. Given the circumstances of Shelter in Place I was practically the only one out, and barely any traffic gave it all a cozy, desolate feeling I actually enjoyed. I stopped at one point and just watched the trees and the clouds. I thought to myself, "What do they care about COVID? They don't." It’s as foreign to them as the bees Colony Collapse Disorder is to us. They simply go about their silent, regal business. Floating across the sky and swaying in the breeze. I was struck by their humble arrogance, their steadfastness. Their world continues uninterrupted. They’re unaffected by us either way. Be here or don’t be here, they could care less. There’s a much higher purpose they’re an integral part of we haven’t recognized yet. They get the interconnection of it all and we don’t. We’re as foreign and almost meaningless to them as the gnats are to us.

How To Practice Self-Love

On long drives I love listening to my something from my podcast library on my iPhone. Today I was driving to Michigan and decided to listen to Aubrey Marcus's podcast. His has always been one of my favorites, and this episode is one of the better one's I've ever heard. Please take time to visit the link below and listen to this episode. Kamal Ravikant is extremely insightful and opened my eyes to many things. I hope you enjoy this as much as I did. 

How to Practice Self-Love

Living For Others

There is a huge difference between living for one's self and living for others. A person can certainly serve and be cognizant of others and their needs. Holding the door open for an elderly person, going to a movie you aren't particularly interested in seeing but your friend is, spending an extra five minutes on the phone with someone who needs to talk; these are examples of serving and being cognizant of others. 

Sacrificing your needs and desires to put others and their needs before yours is not. That's people pleasing. And while it certainly is a kind and polite way of thinking, it's not healthy. Everyone else around you is happy. You've made sure of that. But guess who is the miserable one? You are! Living for others is constant misery. It's stressful and it doesn't bring the kind of happiness we all deserve. 

It took me a very long time to understand the difference. Being first in your life isn't selfish or being rude or uncaring for others. If we don't make ourselves first in our lives, we can't be of service to others. That's writing a blank check, and that check is going to bounce. If I can't care for me I can't care for you. This is an excellent lesson to carry with us each and every day. 

A Ship of Purpose

I decided at the end of last semester not to pursue my nursing degree any further. After careful and thorough consideration I knew this was the right decision for me. It initially (and still) feels like the absolute right decision. That “gut” place tells me so. And as my dad always says, “Your gut instincts are always right.”

Now that the dust is settling and I'm returning to a more free schedule I find there is a hole now. Where there was once school and clinicals and homework, there is now nothing there. My “purpose” is gone. I was lying on the sofa yesterday feeling empty and down and couldn't figure out why. That's when I realized the sense of purpose was gone. This morning I realized that can be seen as a negative thing. Or it can be seen as a totally positive thing. I now have the time to pursue interests and curiosities I never had (made?) the time for before. So while right now it may seem like I'm rudderless, I'm actually in complete control of the direction the ship sails. And that direction can be any I choose. 

Why Buddhism Is True

Now that I'm not in school anymore (a blog posting for another time) I have lots of free time to pursue interests and loves I haven't had the time for. One love is reading. I got my love for reading at an early age. My dad was a voracious and fast reader (I'm quite a slow reader.) He could easily read two books or more in a day! My mother was the town librarian for many years, so I was surrounded by readers and reading.  I'm a voracious reader, as well, but I haven't had time for leisure reading in over two years. Now that the holidaze (note the spelling on that. LOL!) I have ample time to dive back in. I will read anything and everything from comic books and biographies to history (Revolutionary War history is one of my favorite history topics!) and science fiction. 

I'm an inherently curious person, and my interest in the self runs deep. Buddhism, mindfulness, nonattachment, meditation, metaphysics mixed with anatomy, chemistry, and even mind-altering/mind-expanding drugs; these are topics that fascinate me to no end. Exploring the depths of the mind-body connection/experience is a source of endless fascination and curiosity. I truly believe there is “more going on” than we can see, or allow ourselves to see. 

That said, my first book to relaunch my “reading career” is Why Buddhism Is True by Robert Wright. My friend of almost 40 years, Dan, sent me the book knowing it would something I would enjoy. Thank you so much, Dan. Now, let the reading begin!

The Zen of Zappa

“If you end up with a boring miserable life because you listened to your mom, your dad, your teacher, your priest, or some guy on television telling you how to do your shit, then you deserve it.”
— Frank Zappa