I woke up rather suddenly from a particularly vivid dream the other night. Oh, not to worry – it wasn’t the screamin’ jeebies or the cold sweats sort of a dream (although come to think of it, one of those might have been more entertaining.) No, I just woke up.

In it, I was a cowboy (surprise!) running a herd of cattle across an empty desert plain, hot sun beating down from a cloudless lid of bright blue sky. I remember thinking (in the dream, that is), There’s no food or water for these critters out here. How are we gonna make it? This is a really stupid idea.

Once awakened, you know what happened, right? Yep; the ol’ little gray cells assumed it was a genuine situation that had to be figured out, and immediately stampeded off into the night like that dreamland herd o’ heifers. That’s ridiculous, I found myself thinking. Nobody herds cattle across a desert. There’s no food. There’s no water. How could they make it? Maybe they could… uh… er… hrm… That’s a really stupid idea… and then round the circle we went again, over and over and… over.

Needless to say, this went on for some time. Eventually, though, a thought occurred to me as if it was the final nail in the coffin: It’s impossible.

Now, I don’t know about you, but I’ve run across some impossible things every now and then. And I’d venture to say that there ain’t nothin’ more daunting, lemme tell ya! It’s like… well, what the heck, I’m gonna go out on a limb here and assume you already know what that’s like.

Yep; impossible things surround us all the time, don’t they? A dream job, the perfect mate, an eventual golden retirement – they’re all around us. Are they really impossible? Well – maybe; maybe not. But I’ll bet you any amount you care to name that if you don’t at least try then it sure as heck won’t happen.

But what about those things that truly are impossible. Things like, for instance, my dream to finally be a… spaceman? (Sadly, it looks like the future I read about when I was a kid won’t happen soon enough for little ol’ me. Sigh.)

Not The Dream, But The Journey

Well, the thing is, even if impossible to actually achieve, some dreams are worth aiming for anyway. Why? Because sometimes, it’s not the destination, it’s the journey that counts, y’know? By that I mean that in the effort of preparing for that so-called “impossible dream”, you might just find yourself becoming a better person!

Even the indomitable Apostle Paul (yeah, that guy who wrote a huge chunk of the New Testament in the Christian Bible) faced the same thing. In fact, he compared life to running in a race:

You know that in a race all the runners run, but only one runner gets the prize. So run like that. Run to win! All who compete in the games use strict training. (1 Corinthians 9:24-25)

See, even though only one person can actually win a race, in order to compete, all who run must improve themselves. In that way, the journey becomes its own reward.

Not a bad lesson for life, wouldn’t ya say?

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Photo: A Cow, by publicenergy

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Ever feel like you’ve missed the road to prosperity? Yeah, sometimes it feels that way to me, too. In fact, once I had the chance to make the turn – but passed it by. (Cue rimshot: ba-da-bing!

(In case you’re wondering, the road to Prosperity is in South Carolina, off Interstate 26, not too far from Columbia. Just sayin’.)

Yeah, I know. Sadly, these days quite a few folks are lookin’ for that opportunity to come knocking on our doors. And I’m not talking about having the next winning lottery ticket come floating in the window, either – although it makes for a nice daydream… No, they’re actually looking for the chance to, y’know do something.

See, I know what it’s like to have things swept out from under you; things like a job, a bank account, and perhaps even a direction in life. More times than I’d like to admit. But hey, who ever said life is supposed to be fair? It happens. The most important thing, though, is what happens after that. You know what I mean, right? It’s what comes next that really defines who you are.

So, just for the fun of it, let’s take a quickie test. Let’s say that life has suddenly taken a turn for the worse and the giant bluebird of happiness has just, ahem, pooped on your parade, if you know what I mean.

Would you:

a)   throw a tantrum
b)   blame “the system”
c)   demand somebody, y’know, do something
d)  try again, or try something else.

Now, chances are, if you are taking the time to read this, I would be willing to bet your answer is very likely d) try again, or try something else. Well… I’m afraid you’d only be part right. The real answer is e) all of the above. (Yes, it was a trick question. Please don’t sue me. I have nothing.)

In fact, every time I’ve experienced a sudden change in fortunes (meanin’ a downward change, of course – it’s not likely many folks would be too upset about an upward change in fortune), I’ve had to work my way through pretty much all of those reactions. (Surely you remember the stages of grief?) Hey, it’s the way we’re made, after all.

But the problem isn’t the struggle we experience while shuffling through those times. Nope, that’s not the point at all. After all, if you’re, y’know, alive, then it’s pretty much a given that life will occasionally hand you lemons. No, the thing that separates us from the herd is what we do choose to do with those lemons. And if you don’t make it all the way from a) through d) and on to e) – well, you missed it.

I gotta admit; it’s very, very tempting to sorta “hole up” at any one of those early stages. After all, wallowing in self-pity does bring its own strange kind of satisfaction. The only problem is, it gets you absolutely nowhere. You can’t actually solve anything while you’re there. I know; I’ve tried.

Nope, the only thing that really works is to get out there and try again. Or, if you’ve tried whatever it is you’ve been trying enough, then go for something different. (You remember the definition of insanity, don’t you?) Trust me; it’s the only thing that really works.

So, will you finally make it to Prosperity – or at least, on the road to Prosperity? Alas, that’s not for me to say. But I will say this: you’ll never make it if you don’t try for it.

I’m just sayin’.

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Wow, I bet that got your attention, didn’t it?

The Mrs. and I were checkin’ out a junk store antique shop a few weeks ago, and I happened to run across a pile of old magazines. Idly flipping through them, I was rather taken aback by the title of the main article on this cover of Look Magazine, dated February 2, 1960:

“SHOULD A GIRL BE FIRST IN SPACE?”

Well, I guess back then you could never accuse magazine editors of bein’, y’know, subtle. Surely, I thought to myself, these guys have learned something over the years.

Don’t Call Me Shirley!

A quick Wikipedia search (altogether now: what did we ever do before the internet came along?) revealed that lady on the cover is none other than Betty Skelton, one of the most amazing women of the day ever.

I had to chuckle a bit at that word, ‘girl’, though. I rather imagine if you called her that today, you’d better keep an eye over your shoulder because she’d likely climb into one of the 10 corvettes she used to set speed records with and lay a few track marks across your face. Just sayin’.

Although the whole article is definitely worth a read (it won’t take long, I promise), the opening summary quite succinctly says a lot: “Betty Skelton Frankman Erde (Note: link to Wikipedia article) (born June 28, 1926) is a retired land speed record car driver and acrobatic airplane pilot who set 17 aviation and automobile records, was known as “the First Lady of Firsts”, and helped create opportunities for women in aviation, auto racing, astronautics and advertising.”

Now there’s a summary for ya! In other words, she gave new meaning to the term “Fast Lady”! And, although she underwent the exact same training the Mercury astronauts went through (it was done at the request of Look Magazine specifically for this issue), she was never actually an astronaut. Which, if you think about it, is a sad commentary on the Way Things Were at the time.

On the other hand, it does bring up the subject of… barriers.

Barriers: Some Real and Some… Not So Much

Unfortunately, there were barriers to women back then that even one as talented and accomplished as Betty couldn’t break down. On the other hand (where did I get all these hands?), were I a bettin’ man, I’d bet you, oh, about a bazillion donuts she was a factor in the eventual acceptance of women in the Astronaut Corps (and a lot of other places, too).

Nevertheless, the wiki article did get me to thinkin’ (sound of grinding gears)…

When I was a kid, there were a lot of things I couldn’t do. You remember what it was like, don’cha? For instance (just to name three) I couldn’t drive a car (I was too young), I couldn’t understand physics (I hadn’t accumulated enough scientific knowledgeable) and, once I got a car, I couldn’t get a date (sadly, I had little or no social skills luck whatever with the fairer half of the population *sigh*).

See, some barriers are truly, well, for lack of a better term, real. Age, for example. In that case, there’s nothing you can do about that kind of barrier except wait for it to fall in its own good time. Hey, I had to grow up eventually, right? (Well, there were a few major boners I pulled when I was young that probably had my parents wonderin’ about that one. But I digress.)

On the other hand, many other kinds of barriers (such as that lack of knowledge I mentioned above) are more a product of how I thought of myself. Once again, though, how to overcome such a barrier was obvious: I needed to work harder and learn more! In other words, it was up to me.

Where’s That Barrier Now?

Over the course of my life many other barriers have fallen, too. For instance, I used to think I couldn’t write. Well, as I’ve discovered over the last few years, obviously that’s not a problem anymore. Although it didn’t happen overnight, with much time, effort, and the sweat of my brow, I now claim to be a writer because, well, I write, right?

But here’s the thing. If I were, for instance, to still insist I couldn’t write… Well, what would have happened is that particular barrier, which may have once been real, if you get my meanin’, is now simply imagined. See the difference? The fact that the barrier once actually existed always made a great excuse. Hey, I could always claim forces outside my control, y’know? (sound of millions of us shouting, “It’s not my fault!”) But now that it’s gone, well, why would I want to leave it hangin’, if you know what I mean?

The good news, though, is lots of other use-to-be-barriers are gone, too. The question, though, is, have I been paying attention? That leads me to another question: I wonder what other barriers aren’t there anymore?  Which of course leads up that all important final follow-up question: What barriers used to hold me back but now are gone and I now longer have excuse?

I wonder… what barriers used to hold you back – but aren’t there any more?

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Some evenings ago, as the last of the day’s clear light began to wane, the Mrs. and I spent a short time outside on our patio, breathing in the wonderfully mild Fall weather. After spending a companionable few moments enjoying an almost magic, whispering silence, our reverie was rudely interrupted by this little scene playing out at the very top of a tall pine tree a few houses away.

Shattered Silence

The bird at the top right is a crow, easily identifiable by his distinctive cry. (sound of “caw, caw, caw”) The little guy at the bottom left is a Mockingbird, and I could clearly hear him respond (in an easily-imagined New York Cabbie accent) the bird equivalent of “Hey, who ya t’ink ya talkin’ to, Tiny?” (After all, they are mocking birds, y’know. Bwa-ha-ha-ha-ha! Er, sorry.)

Anyway, these two seemed to be having quite a noisy disagreement about who got to sit on this old dead limb, I’ll tell ya! Apparently, the Mockingbird was lettin’ that crow know, and in no uncertain terms, “Dis tree ain’t big enough for da both of us!”

This went of for a few more minutes, then apparently enduring one too many insults, the Mockingbird suddenly flew up and attacked the much bigger crow, driving him from his perch! Wow, talk about a feisty little fellah! That crow mustered what dignity he had left (because, y’know, dignity is so important to birds *rolls eyes*) and decided he’d had enough. As the two of them flew off into the sunset, that Mockingbird continued to harass the defeated crow, flying circles around him and chirping as if to shout, “An’ I don’t wanna see youse around here again, ya big turkey!”

After they left, peace and quiet once again reigned over the land.

Question of the Day

When was the last time you took on something bigger than yourself?

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I shot this photo the other day while visiting the Boardwalk area of the tiny coastal town of Kemah, Texas. I happened to notice, just a short distance away, a set of wooden posts out on the very edge of the shore.

Usually posts like this are covered with seagull poop seagulls. What kinda caught my eye was the fact that this time there was only a single bird there.

The Watcher

Now, if you click on the photo you’ll see it more clearly (it’ll take you to the Flickr page). It appears as if the seagull is checkin’ out those two sailboats as they zip off into the distance. On noticing that tiny detail, I was struck by a thought (sound of dull thud).

I thought it somewhat ironic how we humans, with our big giant brains (mind you, I’m speakin’ figuratively, not necessarily personally), can be so proud of our accomplishments. I mean, here are these two guys who, with a little diligence (not to mention a little cash) managed to learn how to spread a sail, capture the wind, and use it to drive themselves across the sea in an exhilarating fashion. (Hey, I’ve done it, and I can tell you it’s quite a rush!)

In the meantime, this little bird, with a brain no bigger than your average pea, simply spreads his wings and, with virtually no effort, sails up into the skies with nary a care in the world. And all on a budget of free-for-the-taking sardines, too.

But wait, you say, that’s not a fair comparison. It’s in the bird’s nature to fly. After all, he has wings. And if a bird spreads ‘em while the wind is blowing, well, physics happens, y’know?

We humans, on the other hand, have to learn everything for ourselves – ‘cause when we’re born, we got nothin’! I mean, we got no wings. We got no instincts. Alas, we got no aerodynamic shapes anywhere. In fact, if I were to jump off a cliff with only the things I was born with, the only physics that’ll happen is somethin’ along the lines of drop-like-a-sack-of-overripe-plums. Kinda excitin’ for a while, but then there’s that pesky sudden stop at the bottom.

OK, fair enough; birds can fly, and human-types can’t – at least, not without a lot of help. So what?

It’s About Potential…

The thing, I think, that makes the difference between the bird and the sailor, though, is the difference in their potential. See, a bird, bless his little pea-brain, is just a bird. He’s born a bird. He lives as a bird, and he’ll pass on to that great sky in the, er, sky, as – yep, you guessed it – a bird. What’s more (and here’s the nub of the gist, if you get my meanin’), he can never be anything but a bird (no matter how many times you read Jonathan Livingston Seagull). It’s just not in his nature.

Ah, but a human being, now – well that’s a whole ‘nuther pile o’ potatoes! Hey, as far as I’m concerned, one of the most amazing things about us human beings is the tremendous potential there is within every one of us. I mean, think about it (sound of grinding gears).

As I mentioned earlier, when we’re born, we have pretty much nothing. No instincts, no innate knowledge, practically a clean slate. We’re nothing more than a cute little squirming bundle of potentiality. (For the sake of expediency, I’m assumin’ that “cute” bit is always true.)

The fact is, given the opportunity (and the means, although that certainly doesn’t stop some folks) any baby can become pretty much anything they eventually want to be – subject to the laws of reality, of course. (Shame about reality, ain’t it? *Sigh* That’s pretty much why I had to give up on my childhood dream of, y’know, bein’ a spaceman.) All throughout our lives, we’re constantly besieged by all kinds of influences. Family, friends, information, you name it – it all goes into the mysterious mix that is us.

… And It’s About Choice

On top of that, there’s the matter of choice. Practically every moment of every day we’re faced with the need to make decisions. Sometimes big ones, sometimes little inconsequential ones, but you might as well face it; you’ll never be able to avoid them for long.

Admittedly, as a kid I rarely gave any thought to any possible long-term consequences my choices would create. Hey, that’s just the way it is when you’re a kid, y’know? Lack of experience, I know.

However, there’s no avoiding the fact that some of those choices did, indeed, form the basis for what I’m doing – and indeed, who I am – today. Do our choices limit who we can become in the future? I’m gonna say – most certainly. But is that necessarily a bad thing? Well, in my humble opinion, probably not.

That innate ability to become something we’re not, now that’s an exciting prospect, wouldn’t you say?

So What About You?

So lemme ask ya; do you think you’ve reached your full potential? What makes you think so? And if you still have one or two things on your horizon, how do you plan to get there?

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I don’t know if you’ve ever had the opportunity to check out the inside of a piano, but if you can, do yourself a favor: go find one and take a good look. I mean, these things are a marvel! What you’ll find is an amazing intersection of three completely different disciplines: engineering, craftsmanship, and physics.  the embodiment of the blend of form and function.

You know what I like the best about a piano, though? It’s that, when you look inside the (usually) beautifully handcrafted wooden case, it’s all so wonderfully, I don’t know, analog! And in today’s digital world, I find that kindof refreshing, don’t you?

Busy, Busy, Busy

Let’s see… inside, there’s about a zillion moving parts: wood and/or metal levers, little wooden hammers, strips of felt, metal pins, not to mention hundreds of wires ranging from very thin ones to thick, multi-wrapped monsters. I’m tellin’ ya; it’s a veritable Rube Goldberg-esque device, inside there.

One of the first things that always impressed me with your average piano is the internal structure of the wooden case. There are smooth wooden ribs and structural members running every which way in there. In fact, it’s amazing how they manage to get all that stuff in there and still leave room for the mechanical parts, too.

The thing is, a piano really needs that strength. Why? Well, there are 88 keys on the typical piano. And for each key, there are actually three piano wires. That makes a total of (hrm, let’s see now… I’m gonna have to take my shoes and socks off for this calculation…), uh, 264 wires! And all those wires, when properly tuned, produce an awful lot of… tension.

Did you know, in a modern grand piano, the total force created by the tension in those wires can be greater than 10 tons?

That Thing We Love To Hate

Ah; tension – it ranks right up there as one of the things we most love to hate, doesn’t it? Sometimes we call it stress, or strain, or even opposition, but it’s almost always the same thing. It’s that thing that opposes what we want to do.

Funny thing, though. Most of us spend so much time doing our best to avoid stress and tension in our lives (and I must admit to being no exception to that crowd), but we sometimes completely miss the fact that tension is actually a pretty useful thing to have. (sound of incredulity from the audience) No, really!

Let’s use this piano as an example. I mean, when you get right down to it, the very reason for a piano’s existence (and pretty much any stringed instrument, for that matter) is to provide a way to stretch a series of strings out in such a way as to produce music. And to do that, you have to have two anchor point (one fixed and one adjustable), and something to string between them.

Now, to produce the proper musical sound, you have to do what? (Yes, you in the back with your hand raised.) That’s right: stretch the dickens outta that wire! (or string, or gut, or whatever) Yep; ya gotta put the thing under a great deal of tension. And isn’t tension just another way of saying “getting pulled in two different directions”?

Otherwise, instead of, say, Mozart we’d get, I don’t know, maybe something that sounds a lot like a war between rogue gangs of alley cats. Believe me, when you’re sittin’ there in front of thousands of folks in Carnegie Hall, about to play your first virtuoso performance, well, that wouldn’t do at all! (Unless, of course, you were, y’know, going for Theme From: Cat Fight. Hey, I never know what passes for music these days).

Time to Make Music

Now, I think most of us experience the same sort of thing pretty much all the time, don’t we? I mean, we all have a little of this, that, and the other thing, all pullin’ us in different directions, with never a letup in sight. Life is like that, y’know?

But in fact, isn’t it also true that those tensions, stresses, and strains, once we learn to “tune” them to the proper note, are what help produce the beautiful music that is our lives? It’s somewhere there in the balance, isn’t it?

So next time you’re tempted to curse, rant or rail about something in your life that’s pullin’ you in two different directions, just think about that piano. After everything is said and done, it isn’t all about the tensions we face every day. Hey, welcome to life!

Nope, I think life is really all about the music.

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I was sitting in the lobby of our local car repair place the other day, thinking gloomy thoughts. I know, I know; you usually think of yours truly as a handsome, happy-go-lucky, always cheerful fellow with a big hat and a bigger heart. [Note from the Proprietor: If you happen to think differently, please don't disillusion me! Oh, and Mrs. MZM had me throw in the "handsome" part. Honest.]

Anyhoo – to those of you who have never opened up the hood of a car – I salute you! I’ll tell ya, I’d just as soon never have to do it myself. To be perfectly honest, what’s under there… well, it sorta scares me.

Oh, I know; that admission may jeopardize my lifetime membership to the Manly Men’s Association if it ever gets out. But I’ll freely admit that when it comes to cars I’m pretty much clueless.

It wasn’t always this way. Once upon a time (sounds like the beginning of a fairy tale, doesn’t it?) I was completely unafraid to tinker with my own car. Alas, those days are quickly receding like my, er, hairline (*sigh*). These days, when I open the hood I get absolutely intimidated by the incomprehensible mishmash of hardware, gizmos and spaghetti-like wiring that greets the eye. And all of it covered by a thick greasy layer of gray-black grime that would give even the redoubtable Mr. Clean heart palpitations. Ick.

Nevertheless, the sad, inevitable truth is, if you own a car, then sooner or later, you’re gonna have to fix something. This time it wasn’t anything major, just the battery. The old one wasn’t puttin’ out the power it used to, and it was only a matter of time before we got in the car, turned the key, and got – nuthin’. (Trust me, I’ve been there and there’s no experience quite like it.)

Needless to say, once the new battery was installed, our car was good as new again. (Well, as good as an 11-year old car can be. I’m a firm believer in driving a car until she drops.) But I realized that getting a tired battery isn’t just something that happens to cars. Nope; it happens to people, too.

Time for Something New?

Yep; it’s not all that unusual for us to experience something similar. Given enough time, you’ll probably experience a time when it seems as though you just don’t have all the emotional energy you need to face life as usual. I know I have. Sometimes the constant battle with getting things done can take such a toll that there comes a moment when you might suddenly look up and think, “Enough!”

Hey, don’t feel like the Lone Stranger, my friends; it happens to a lot of us. So what to do? Well, here’s three ideas I’ve tried in the past.

Take a Break. These days the pace of life seems to be getting faster and faster with no end in sight. It’s so easy to ignore the need for rest now and then. There’s nothing wrong with taking some time off, you know. I mean, the universe isn’t going to come to a screeching halt without you, you know. Hey, here’s a radical idea: try not working every day and taking at least one day a week off. (God Himself prescribed exactly that when He created Life, the Universe, and Everything, so just on that basis alone it ought to be something worth taking seriously, don’cha think?) But you’ll find, as I have, that regular periods of rest can actually make you more productive than if you never took the time.

Switch Tracks for a While. Sometimes when you find yourself completely overwhelmed with whatever’s, uh, whelming you, the best thing you can do is what I call “change the game”. I mean, take a little time to do a totally different task for a while. What happens, see, is you get so caught up in whatever it is you’re doing your mind begins to narrow its focus until that’s all you can see. It’s sorta like running a 400-yard dash. Because of your focus, the only thing you see is the lane you’re in and the finish line; everything else becomes a gray blur. Doing something different, though, will help your brain regain its normal equilibrium and even enable you to think more clearly.

Do Something Different. Maybe, in the immortal words of the Monty Python gang, it’s time for something completely different. And I’m not talkin’ about just for a short while. Nope, I mean maybe your life would be a lot more fulfilling if you were doing something, y’know, else. It’s happened to quite a few folks over the years, including yours truly: starting out in life going in one direction, only to find it just doesn’t satisfy them like they thought it would. The fact is, more and more folks do it all the time. And, there’s no need to feel like you’re doing something no one has ever done before, either, so at least you’ll have plenty of company.

OK, those are just three ideas. What about you? What else would you suggest for someone whose battery has been running dangerously low? Share your advice down there in the comment box and maybe you’ll be helping someone else who’s facing the same challenge right now.

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I was driving in our neighborhood the other day when I passed this poor excuse for a tree in a nearby empty lot.

Over the last three years, I’ve seen this thing gradually reduced from a somewhat taller and more, er, robust version of itself – to this. Pretty pathetic, ain’t it?

Every time we get a strong wind, I’m convinced I’ll drive by and see it has given up the ghost and finally assumed the horizontal position. When Hurricane Ike bulldozed through Houston over a year ago, I really thought that would be the final blow, so to speak. Yet every time I’m surprised to find it holding on just a little bit longer.

Oh, sure, it might be a little smaller, perhaps a little, er, less vigorous than is used to be (which may be considered the understatement of the century), but this amazing tree has managed to persevere no matter what’s been thrown at it. But no – this fellah is still hangin’ in there.

But more than that – it’s still growing! You can see a small clump of leaves there on what remains of the only branch left. What’s more, there’s even a few new saplings growing upward from the base of the trunk, too.

I’ll tell ya what, folks, if there ain’t a powerful lesson here, I’ll… well, I’ll eat my hat!

So I guess the million-dollar questions you have to ask yourself today are: What’s been knockin’ ya down, lately? And, what’s your response gonna be?

Next time you’re tempted to give up, just remember this tree. (And yes, I’m talkin’ to me, too.)

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Ever had the feeling you were bein’ followed? It’s kinda spooky, ain’t it?

Not too long ago, Mrs. MZM and I decided to get out and enjoy the unusually pleasant Fall weather. (I use the word “unusual” because here in the Houston area, we typically have only two seasons: eleven sultry months of Summer followed by a month or so of cold, wet, yucky Winter.)

This particular day, though, was bright and clear, perhaps mid-80′s or so, with a nice, gentle breeze. It was perfect for taking time off to smell the flowers, if you get my meanin’. So we decided to go to a nearby park and see what there was to see.

This particular park happened to be built along a canal that wandered along for about a mile or so. After a few minutes, we decided to follow the sidewalk along the water. I’m tellin’ ya; it was a beautiful day, I had my Honey on my arm, and there was nowhere else I had to be. I mean, how perfect was that?

As we strolled along the waterway, enjoying the gentle warm sunshine, the delicious smell of pine trees, and the silly antics of an occasional duck or goose, I happened to glance down at the water at my feet. It was a surprising sight, to say the least: dozens of these tiny little fish were following us!

It seemed pretty funny, you know? I mean, it’s not like it was a school of piranha or anything. They’re just little fish, lookin’ for a handout. I imagine a fair percentage of folks who walk along this canal toss breadcrumbs or whatever into the water on a regular basis. So to them, any motion along the edges of their long, watery world spelled opportunity.

Unfortunately for them, though, we had nothing to give, so we just walked on. I’ll tell’ ya; I gotta give those little guys credit for persistence! They must’ve followed us for at least twenty minutes before finally giving up and heading for greener, uh, waters.

It reminded me, though, of the fact that while there’s opportunity all around us, sometimes it takes persistence to reap the benefits, y’know? (Not that it paid off for them that day, mind you, but they at least went with the odds.) So let’s take a lesson from my fine fishy friends (and I’m speakin’ to myself as well):

Keep on pluggin’ away, ’cause persistence can make all the difference!

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Is it true that to do something well – you have to like what you’re doing? I’m honestly not sure if that’s necessarily a maxim or not. I mean, I’m pretty good at some things I don’t particularly like to do. And there’s lots of things I, well, stink at that I love to do. But then, that’s the way the cookie crumbles, y’know?

But you gotta agree that having a great deal of enthusiasm for a task, whatever it happens to be, certainly lends a little je ne sais quoi to the endeavor, won’t you? (je ne sais quoi, for those of you who don’t know, is French for “the zest for life”. Or maybe it just means, “pass the French toast.”)

Summer as a Camp Counselor

Quite a few summers ago, I was one of several counselors (meaning, “the adults”) at a children’s camp up in the deep woods of East Texas. Each of us counselors were assigned to a cabin with an assistant counselor (usually an older teen-ager) and about 12-15 boys in the seven- to twelve-year old range. (Yep; you read it right. I was only 27 at the time, but I’m almost positive that’s where I got my first grey hair.)

Anyhoo, for seven weeks straight, a new group of kids would show up every Sunday afternoon, stay a week, and then leave the following Saturday. I’ll tell ya; after seven weeks of this, I was about ready for the funny farm! (Who knows? Maybe this is what pushed me over the edge and into the Middle Zone in the first place?)

Now, if you’ve never had the *ahem* joy of this sort of experience, then all I gotta say is, Bubba, you ain’t lived! Nevertheless, to this day I still fondly reminisce about many of the wonderful – and sometimes zany – things we did. (Or, er, accidentally caused to happen. But let’s not go there; it wasn’t me, honest!)

Not that I didn’t have a blast, mind you; I did. But the thing is, it was my first time as a counselor and I truly didn’t have a clue! Luckily they assigned me an assistant counselor who had lots of experience, so for the first week or two he managed to keep things on an even keel (without looking like he was the one in, y’know, actual control). But I learned pretty quickly, and before too long I really did know what I was doin’. (That’s my story and I’m stickin’ to it!)

The Weight of Responsibility

On the other hand, bein’ a counselor wasn’t all fun and games; it had its responsibilities. I mean, we, along with a few other folks, were the sole caretakers – out in the middle of a jungle filled with lions, tigers and bears – for about 250 kids, every week. (Well, OK; it was woods, not jungle, and they were armadillos, squirrels, and blue jays – but you get my meanin’, right?) If you think about it, that was quite the weighty undertaking. Oh, we had plenty of fun, no doubt about that; but there was the serious side to things.

For instance, one thing we always tried to do was find a way to encourage each and every kid. Maybe they were good at archery, or a good trail reader, or even a great swimmer. No matter what it was, we made sure every one of ‘em had an award certificate for something in his or her hot little hand before they left on Saturday. We always found something to praise them for.

Then there were what you might consider the “usual” awards: those who were best at stuff, like riflery (don’t panic; we used BB guns), diving, or even the most sportsmanlike qualities. And Bubba, picking out the best boy AND girl for each one of those categories wasn’t always easy! (Especially when there were about 125 of each, and we had to narrow it down to just one of each.) Sometimes, it was almost impossible.

I remember this one time the boys’ counselors spent about 20 minutes trying to figure out who should get the “trophy” for Best Trampoline. (Well, it wasn’t a trophy, exactly. More like a picture of a trophy on a certificate. But still.) Amazingly enough, there really hadn’t been an outstandingly good one among the boys that particular week. But we wanted to do something; the kids would notice if we didn’t choose someone. The conversation went something like this:

“What about Frank?” someone would ask.

“Naw, he’s not any good, really; he can barely stay on the thing.”

“All right then, I thought Barry was fair to middlin’,” another said.

“Hey, wasn’t he the kid that tried to catch that butterfly and jumped clean off and accidentally knocked over all the canoes? Jenny screamed bloody murder when one of ‘em landed on her toe! I don’t think we want to reward that.” Reluctant nods of agreement all around.

And so it went.

The Standout

Finally, I had a thought (try not to be too surprised; it happens, y’know). There was one young fellow in my cabin who did kinda stand out. Not that he was all that good on the trampoline, mind you; but there was this one thing about him – I’d never seen anybody have more fun doing it! I’m tellin’ ya; although he was havin’ a lot of fun at camp, he probably laughed the loudest and hardest when he was on the trampoline. His laughter and smile literally lit the place up whenever it was his turn – and what’s more, he somehow set all the other kids watching him to laughing, too!

Now, this kid had been one I’d been a little concerned about. See, he was only 7 years old (pretty much the smallest kid in camp that week), and as a result, he wasn’t too good at, well, anything. He was too small to hold a rifle or pull a bow; he was also too small to run very fast, and he couldn’t swim worth a darn – well, you get the picture, right?

But I’ll tell ya; he sure loved to jump! Not well, mind you; but again, he did it with more gusto and enthusiasm than anybody we’d seen all summer. Heads nodded all around and smiles broke out as we agreed this was just the thing to give him the encouragement we’d all wanted to give.

Yessir; I’ll never forget that kid’s face (although sadly, I’ve forgotten his name) when we called him up front to accept the “Most Enthusiastic Trampoline Jumper” award that Saturday – in front of the entire camp, and most of the parents, too. I bet that kid grinned the entire way home! And best of all, the entire group of campers knew it, too – they all clapped enthusiastically when he got it; it was that obvious he deserved it.

Time to Take Out the Trash

So what does this have to do with you and me, you ask? Well, even today, whenever I think of the smile on that kid’s face as he happily received his award, I can’t help get an answering smile inside. That, more than any other experience, was probably one of the brightest moments of my summer that year. And even now I still remember the valuable lesson he taught me: That whatever I do, I should do it with enthusiasm.

OK, so that’s not always so easy. So what? Attitude, as every Life Coach will tell you, is at least 95% a choice. I mean, we can’t always determine the tasks we have to do each day, can we? Hey, I’ll bet Superman or Spiderman or Wonder Woman still had to take out the garbage and wash the car every now and then, y’know? (Well, in Wonder Woman’s case, it was probably her invisible jet plane.)

But we can still choose how we feel about those things, can’t we?

Besides, after practicing how to be cheerful, even with the mundane things in life, imagine how much joy we’ll experience doing the really fun things? Like that kid jumping with such pure joy on the trampoline, we’ll have a blast doing it – and who knows? Maybe we’ll even inspire others with our enthusiasm too.

I mean, you never know.

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Wandering around Discovery Green Park in downtown Houston one morning a few weeks ago, I was not surprised to find every single park bench had a dedication of some kind. You know what I mean, right? Along the lines of, “In memory of…”, or something similar.

Hey, it’s a time-honored way of remembering those who’ve come before us, and perhaps may no longer be with us. I often wonder what stories are contained within those few brief words.

However, as I was about to leave the park, I ran across this one, in which a slightly different sentiment is expressed: MAKE EVERY MOMENT COUNT.

I’m tellin’ ya; have no idea who the Reckling family is (all 46 of ‘em; yeesh, can you imagine the run on the bathroom in the mornings?), but I’ll tell ya; I am now a big fan!

Yessir, now that’s a sentiment that gets the ol’ ticker turnin’ over, ain’t it? I gotta say, as a kick-start to the day, it was a heckuva great one!

So allow me to pass it on to y’all today – along with a big ol’ tip o’ the hat!

MAKE EVERY MOMENT COUNT

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I was in the doctor’s office for my annual 100,000-mile checkup not too long ago. Prognosis: pretty good, actually. I’m generally healthy, and everything still seems to be tickin’ along nicely.

Over by the wall stood this typical doctor’s scale. You’ve most likely seen ‘em, haven’t you? You stand on that plate at the bottom (wearing as little as possible so the danged thing doesn’t mistake that giant Rodeo buckle and ten-gallon hat for excess flab) and then you slide the little weights back and forth on the bars until it balances. Then you read the numbers inside the holes in the weights.

If you look closely in the photo, this one reads 195 pounds. The thing is, that’s not my actual weight. Alas, my current, um, gravitational quotient is a mite higher than that. (But for now let’s keep the actual number my little secret, ‘K?)

The Target

No, what this things shows is my target. See, for the last several months I’ve been on a (sound of terrified scream) diet. My goal is to get back to the weight I believe to be optimum for me – 195. Unfortunately, a few too many cookies, a little too much ice cream… well, let’s just say I’ve not been living the best lifestyle when it comes to food, y’know?

Anyway, Mrs. MZM and I mutually made the decision (hey, it’s true – although I believe the words, “or else” were in there somewhere) to get healthier. Yep; we started doing all the right things: watch what we eat, make sensible choices, exercise regularly – you know, all the things we know to do already, but somehow, well, don’t.

Generally speaking, it hasn’t been as hard as I thought it would be (although I must admit; I do miss pie!) In fact, I’m kinda lookin’ forward to the day I hit my “fightin’ weight” and regain my girlish figure. And to help me along, I keep that target weight in mind now, even when I have nothing but poor choices in front of me. That target colors everything I think about when it comes to food.

The bottom line is, I know the goal, and even better – I know how to reach it.

And that’s good, y’know? It means the ol’ little gray cells are finally cooperatin’, and it’s about time, too! Nowadays, it’s a heck of a lot easier to choose something grilled instead of fried, or something healthy instead of just sweet. All because of that target.

The Target is the Goal

Have you got a goal? How do you visualize it? Did you know a clear visualization can be and extremely powerful agent in change? I bet you did. Sooner or later, everyone comes to the realization that you can’t get anywhere without knowin’ where you’re goin’.

So what’s your goal? How do you visualize it (or them)? Some folks use vision boards, some write out a plan, some share it with others who can help them stay on the right track. What’s your best method of imagining a goal? Share with us what works for you, won’t you?

Maybe by sharing, you can help someone else who’s struggling – and wouldn’t that be great accomplishment!

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There’s an old sayin’ that goes something like this: Great things come to those who wait. (Come to think of it, isn’t that the tagline from a ketchup commercial?)

Well, take it from me, it’s an old saying, ‘K? But as sayings go, isn’t there something missing? I mean, if all it took to receive great things was to wait, I’d be a rich and famous zillionaire several times over by now, y’know?

Obviously something’s missing.

Personally, I think the missing element to that particular sayin’ is, well, the challenge of workin’ for that great thing, don’cha think? I mean, sure having something nice fall unexpectedly in your lap is a favorite daydream for pretty much all of us, right? But how often does that happen? Not much, Bubba!

No, the most common, and likely more appreciated “great” things we receive these days are things we earn. Things we work for. They’re our just rewards for hard work or effort of something we had to do, y’know? And they’re not unexpected; no, not at all! They’re the prize for a job well done.

Cape Lookout, Oregon

A while back while living up in Oregon, Mrs. MZM and I took a weekend off to sorta tour the scenery along the coastline. I’ll tell ya; that is some beautiful country! I wouldn’t mind too much living in those parts permanently; in my humble opinion it’s got some of the finest coastline in the entire U.S., bar none.

Anyway, we were moseyin’ along in sightseein’ mode, toolin’ north along Hiway 101, when we noticed a sign pointing to something called Cape Lookout. Now it seems to me, one really fine way to catch a terrific scenic view of a coastline is to view it from a cape. So, we turned west on what was named, appropriately enough, Cape Lookout Road and prepared to be amazed.

Well, the road went up, then it went down. Then it twisted, then it turned, then it pretty much did the hokey-pokey and turned us all around! I’m tellin’ ya, I had NO idea which way we were goin’! (I had visions of rescue parties searching vainly for our vehicle… once someone realized we were lost, of course.) Eventually, though, we ended up at the top of a hill, and off to the side was the Cape Lookout parking area. Somehow we made it!

To our surprise, though, there was absolutely no view whatsoever. According to the sign, you had to *ahem* hike out to the point for the rumored view. (Up until now I’d heard of “hiking”, but have never actually seen it. Must be something those native Oregonians do…) Needless to say, we were a mite taken aback; talk about your bait-and-switch! It seemed kinda cruel to promise a spectacular view, then make you work for it, y’know? And worse, it looked like the trail led into a rather dense forest. What about the lions, tigers and bears (we said)? Oh, my!

Still, the promise of glorious sights… Anyway, we decided to throw caution to the winds and give it a shot. So we headed off into the deep, dark woods, keepin’ our eyes peeled for the aforementioned critters. Luckily, the trail appeared to be quite well travelled, so it was easy to follow. No breadcrumbs necessary at all.

I have to admit, once we got into it, the walk turned almost magical. The bright sunlight dimmed considerably as it filtered through the boughs of innumerable huge redwoods and other big trees.  The ground was covered by dense undergrowth, muting our steps, and everywhere the rich scent of green filled our noses with the perfume of rainforest. It was amazing!

The trail kept on going, and before too long we began to wonder just how far it might be. I mean, we were on a cape, so I figured we could only get so far in any direction before we got our feet wet, y’know? But after 20 minutes, there was still nothing but forest around us. I was about ready to turn back.

Finally, up ahead on the left, there seemed to be a much brighter area on the trail. That meant a clearing of some kind, so we decided to see if there were anything to see before turning back. It was like coming up to a corner of a building, then turning the corner and having this… incredible vista spread out in front of us!

Alas, that photo up there simply can’t do it justice. I’m guessin’ we were maybe 300 feet above sea level, and the way the sun played with the clouds and the mist thrown up by the wind… well, it was quite a sight! To this day, we’re grateful we had a chance to see it – even if we did have to work for it, y’know?

Keepin’ Your Eye on the Prize

I’ve said it before and it bears repeating: good things come to those who are willing to do what is necessary to achieve them. (Yes, I really said that; see my guest post at Confident Writing) And what’s really wonderful about those good things that – finally – come along is, they’re all the sweeter for the effort you had to put into it!

That’s the great reward for what you had to do. It’s like the goals you’ve focused on all these days, weeks or even years; when you finally hit the finish line, it’s sweeter than a big ol’ bowl of Blue Bell Banana Pudding Ice Cream! (And trust me Bubba; that’s some sweet dish!)

I’ll tell ya; the incredible view we got that day – it’ll always stay with us (and I don’t just mean as a photo, either). No, it was an all-the-more-fantastic and beautiful reward for the effort it took to find it!

So what prize have you got in your sights right now? Have you expended the effort to reach it? How much longer do you think it’ll take to achieve? What advice would YOU give someone in your place? Drop your suggestions in the comment box and let’s share the wealth of experience we represent with each other! Don’t worry; I’ll leave the light on.

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Photo: Windy Day on the Oregon Coast, by Robert Hruzek

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Last Spring, while eating lunch at a local restaurant, Mrs. MZM and I decided to partake of the nice weather and enjoy our meal on their beautiful, vine-covered patio. We chose a table next to one of the poles supporting the sunshade roof.

After settling in, I noticed this vine growing out of a pot next to us. It kinda caught my attention because of the way the thing seemed to coil around itself like a small, wooden boa constrictor. (Very spooky, eating next to this thing, I’ll tell ya. I kept an eye on it the whole time, just in case it suddenly took a liking to my bacon cheeseburger. Or, er, me.)

But still, it’s an interesting object, don’cha think? The way it spirals and coils around that branch as if tryin’ to choke the life out of it!

When I see something like this, I’m often reminded of a classic story from the Bible known as the Parable of the Sower.

The Parable of the Sower

Here’s how it reads in the Gospel of Matthew, chapter 3, verses 3-8: “A farmer went out to sow his seed. As he was scattering the seed, some fell along the path, and the birds came and ate it up. Some fell on rocky places, where it did not have much soil. It sprang up quickly, because the soil was shallow. But when the sun came up, the plants were scorched, and they withered because they had no root. Other seed fell among thorns, which grew up and choked the plants. Still other seed fell on good soil, where it produced a crop—a hundred, sixty or thirty times what was sown.”

See, back in those days, when a farmer planted his seed, he couldn’t just go out to the barn and fire up the ol’ John Deere, y’know. Nope, he had to go out and work his fields the old fashioned way, hitchin’ up the oxen (if he was rich enough to own a pair – or maybe renting ‘em from Mordecai’s Rent-an-Ox) to do the plowing. And, they spread the seeds by hand.

Naturally, the idea was to get as much seed into the good, well-prepared ground as possible. But as the story illustrated, along the edges of the fields some would inevitably fall on the well-packed paths where birds could easily make a meal of ‘em. Some fell among the stones and sprouted, but quickly died from the hot sun with no soil to give them nourishment. Some of the seed fell and even took root among the weeds and brambles that grew along the outside of the tilled areas, but any possible growth was choked by the strangling growth.

On the other hand, the seed that fell on good ground, well, it grew and produced like crazy: 30-, 60-, even a hundredfold! Now that’s some good seed!

I’ll tell ya; it’s a great analogy, even today. Like any good parable (which is a story with Spiritual significance), nearly all of the elements of this story are metaphors. Jesus had to clear it up a few verses later, explaining to his slightly befuddled Disciples the seed was God’s word, and the field was the human heart. The various places the seed fell are indicative of some of the obstacles to the goal of spreading the Word.

Thus, the “good ground” meant a heart ready to receive and understand His message – and enjoy the benefits thereof – while the hard, stony ground on the foot paths was like a heart that had “hardened” itself to God’s Word. Likewise, landing in weeds and thorns might allow the seed to sprout, but eventually they choked the life and vitality out of them anyway.

Is Something Chokin’ YOUR Life?

Anyway, like I said, this vine reminded me of that story, and got me to thinkin’. (I hate it when that happens; you never know where it might lead, y’know?) Was there anything in my own life, I wondered, causing the main thing to no longer be the main thing?

I mean, I’m full of good ideas, y’know? But what is it that keeps me from doin’ what I need to do to turn my dreams into reality? That’s the crux of the matter, wouldn’t ya say?

Now, needless to say, this is a somewhat personal battle, so don’t go expecting any details or anything. (Besides, if anything interesting turns up, it’ll probably come up anyway in a future post!) But the question is also a valid one for you too, don’cha think?

So what about it, y’all? Is there anything in your life that’s sorta strangling the life out of what you SHOULD be doing? Is it time to get the shears out and, like Indiana Jones clearing a path through the jungle, whack those choking vines away?

Food for thought?

NOTE: This is yet another entry in our current What I Learned From… project. The topic this month is the World of Plants, and there’s still time for you to join us, y’all; all you have to do is follow that link and read all about it. But you better hurry; it closes to entries Sunday night, August 9!

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Photo: Constrictor, by Robert Hruzek

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Can a tiny little bit of resentment really be all that bad? I mean, it’s so small, and that – well, let’s call it anger ’cause that’s what it really is – is just a lil’ tiny thing, ain’t it? Besides, sometimes holding a little anger in can be kinda delicious, can’t it?

But over the years I’ve come to realize that no matter how teeny tiny that anger starts out, it can still have an amazing grip on my heart. Here’s what I mean…

Lord of My Domain

There’s just something about owning your own home, you know? Please forgive me if I come across as all that, y’all. I dunno; maybe it’s a sortof “lord of your domain” kind of thing when you “own” a patch of God’s green Earth for yourself, y’know?

Anyhoo – I derive a certain satisfaction standing on my front porch, looking out over the small patch of land I owe so much money on own. Having performed this exercise more than a few times, I’ve gotten rather familiar with my own property. What’s more, it’s pretty easy to tell when there’s something not quite right. A disturbance in the force, perhaps? An object that didn’t belong?

Suddenly I spotted the offensive element – right at my feet! Oh, the horror! There in my front garden – right next to the walk where any visitor could see it – was a (sound of terrified scream) weed! Well, it really wasn’t all that big. In fact, it was only about 2 inches tall. But set against our dark brown mulch, the bright green leaves made it easy to see.

OK; now you’re probably thinkin’ to yourself, What the heck is the big deal? I mean, it’s only a weed, right? I mean, it’s not like it was a triffid or anything. And you’d be correct up to a point. After all, when you have a garden, finding a weed here and there is pretty much a given. (Find a triffid, on the other hand, and you’d better run for your life! Just sayin’.)

Anyway, I did what any self-respecting homeowner woulda done: I reached down to gently, er, rip the little booger outta the ground (you have to do it just right or you don’t get the roots out, you know), only to find… the darned thing wouldn’t budge! Harumph.

Now, that kinda surprised me, since this particular weed was so small. I mean, how deep could the roots be, anyway? And how strong? After all, I’m a big, giant man – and I’m ‘waaay stronger than any puny little ol’ weed! So I bent down, got a better grip on the weed’s stem, and started pulling, gently but firmly. With fairly steady pressure, it would eventually let go.

At first, nothing happened. Finally, I saw it slowly coming loose. The only thing was, a surprisingly large patch of the garden was coming up with it! My eyebrow lifted in a remarkable imitation of Mr. Spock, and I’m almost sure I heard the word, “Fascinating” in the whisper of the breeze.

Sheesh, I thought, what’s this thing wrapped around? Those dang roots must be down somewhere near China! I had visions of unearthing a misplaced treasure chest filled with lost pirate’s gold or something. And now I had to pull that out along with the offending weed.

Finally, I got it completely out of the ground, and was rewarded with my Catch of the Day: a two-inch weed attached to a big clump of dirt – and a four-inch piece of wood! I’m tellin’ ya; that weed wasn’t gonna give up without a fight!

Anyway, having come out the victor in this particular battle of wills, I sneered in my best Jimmy Cagney impression, “Nyah; thought ya had me, ya little weasel! But I showed ya who was boss here, didn’t I! Nyah!” (Hey, sometimes I gotta be my own entertainment.)

Needless to say, that little weed never stood a chance against someone as big as me (not that I’m, er, big, mind you!) But what surprised me was the way the roots of that little guy managed to get such a good grip on that piece of wood – not to mention the sizable clump of dirt it brought out with it.

The thing is, roots can be like that, can’t they? They work their way into the tiniest of crevices in dirt, rocks or whatever, and can be heck to completely get out. And wow, they can have quite the deathgrip, if you know what I mean.

The Root of Bitterness

There’s an interesting statement in the Bible (actually, it’s in Hebrews, chapter 12, verse 15, if you care to look it up) that uses a word-picture combination that has always stuck with me. Here’s the verse:

See to it that no one comes short of the grace of God; that no root of bitterness springing up causes trouble, and by it many be defiled…

… and the words of interest are right there in the middle: root of bitterness.

What’s a root of bitterness, you may ask? Well, it’s a fair question. A root of bitterness is what the writer of Hebrews calls that little, angry, resentful feeling you get when you don’t like bein’ disciplined for your own good.

Remember when you were a little kid, and you did something stupid, or wrong, or mean? Chances are good that your parents, or your teacher (or hopefully someone appropriate) laid some discipline on ya, right? It happens all the time, even when we’re grown up, too.

Everywhere we turn, life, the universe, and everything tends to discipline us when we do stuff that’s out of line, doesn’t it? Oh, it might not be right away. I mean, you may think you’re getting away with it. But I’m tellin’ ya; sooner or later, she all comes home to roost, if you get my meanin’.

Here’s where the rubber meets the road, though. If you’re still teachable (hopefully that includes you!), then that discipline actually serves to make you a better person. But if you’re not… well, you may just end up a bitter, angry person. Hey, you know it’s true, right?

I find the choice of those particular words “root of bitterness” fascinating, don’t you? It describes perfectly what’s happening down inside your heart. Even the tiniest bit of anger, just like that tiny little weed, can get quite a grip on the fabric of your soul. Once there, it can be pretty tough to root out, y’know?

What to do? Well, it’s pretty simple, really. Just deal with whatever the situation is that caused the anger. And whatever you do – don’t  let it fester or it’ll get worse! Roots have a way of growin’ deep when you ignore ‘em. I’m just sayin.

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Photo: Tiny weed, by bishib70

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