I'm fortunate. I was born at a time of ongoing momentous changes for mankind, many of them beneficial and many of them not. Somehow I got to thinking about everything I've lived through and seen and thought it might be interesting to list it all. So here goes.
I was born during World War II just before the A-bomb was dropped. That's what it used to be called although it was originally referred to as the atomic bomb. World War II was regularly called The Second World War and World War I was frequently spoken of as The Great War or the war to end all wars.
I remember Dewey losing to Truman when I was probably in kindergarten. As usual in my choices, I chose wrong when asked who I thought would be elected opting for Dewey, if for nothing more than to hide my ignorance as well as to fit into my peer group. I remember neighbors bringing a copy of the newspaper delivered to their country-road mail box showing Dewey holding a newspaper declaring his victory overhead. One of the great gaffs of the century that.
I've seen fields plowed and cultivated with horse-drawn equipment and corn fields hand picked, the shucked ears tossed into a horse-drawn wagon with a bump board about four-feet high on one side. The ears of corn tossed against it bounced into the wagon. I learned to tell the proficiency of the picker by the frequency of the ears banging against. A good picker could pick, shuck, and toss an ear into the wagon about every four seconds by my reckoning and remembrance.
I've seen men broadcasting seed in the field by hand and have seen wheat and oats mowed with a scythe. The scythe was then being replaced by sickle mowers which consisted of a long blade with serrated teeth that slid back and forth between guide bars as the mower was pulled first by mules or horses, and later by tractors. Hand broadcasting was replaced with planters that laid the seed down in rows and covered it with dirt, to be replaced in turn by drills. How drills work I don't know since I haven't used them or seen them work. The first planters seeded two rows at a time, then came four, six, and eight-row planters. For many years they all had iron wheels with iron lugs and wooden or iron spokes, to eventually be all iron, and then giving way to rubber tires on steel rims. One of my strongest memories is that of a very wet and muddy spring after a hard Midwestern winter that left an iron-wheeled tractor mired to the hubs in a old corn field the farmer was attempting to plow. It took a couple of weeks of drying out and a four-horse team, along with someone operating the tractor, to pull it free.
The first planters were weighted with rocks or scrap iron--anything of weight--to help get the right depth of penetration into the earth for depositing and covering the seed. That changed for a mechanical design which allowed the adjusting of each individual seed depositor to desired depth by moving a lever up or down on each. That too has gone through a number of refinements to the point that now the depth planting is set by a computer which measures the soil temperature and moisture content and also sets the depositor's soil penetration accordingly.
I've seen the reaper which, horse drawn also, picked up the mowed grain or hay and redeposited it on the ground in a tepee-like sheaf of stalks bound together near the top for later collection. During the first generation of the reaper, men bound the sheaves by hand. These were carted to a threshing machine which separated the grain from the stalks, blowing the straw into high hay stacks in the fields where the gigantic machine and crew awaited the shocks to be threshed. The grain collected in a hopper to be loaded into wagons for delivery to a barn and it's wooden grain bins which were simple rooms inside. The large haystacks piled up from the threshing were later pitchforked onto flat hay-rack wagons, with racks on the front and rear, and the hay was taken to the barn where it was put into the mow at the top of the barn pitch forkful by pitch forkful. Threshing was an area affair with the threshing machine running a route from farm to farm. Everyone in an area whose grain was processed by the steam-operated monster helped on all of the neighboring farms. The men and older boys worked in the fields and the women of the families prepared meals and took care of the children. Boys, and sometimes girls, not old enough to work with the men but old enough to be responsible, carried snacks and cold drinks pony-back to the threshing crew.
The reapers and threshing machines were replaced by combines which do all of the work in one pass. At first the combines could cut and remove the grain from as few as four rows of wheat or oats but today can reap the grain from many times that number. The chaff from the reaping used to be blown onto the ground for later raking and baling. The baled straw would be used for straw bedding in the barn. The bedding was for animals allowed to shelter there during harsh weather and for covering the floor of the milking parlor, or room where the cows were milked by hand, later by electric milking machines. Later, the chaff was just left on the ground to decompose adding biological material to the earth as well as helping to keep it softer and more aerated.
I've seen automobiles lose their running boards for the sleeker look of not having them. The first cars were designed along the lines of the buggies everyone was used with the vestiges of the design being the running boards. When the went, the auto industry stopped being restricted by the buggy concept. I've also seen the divided front and rear windows of cars become single panes and have witnessed the loss of the wing window, a loss I grieve because of the stream of cooler air it directed into the car was also lost. I've seen the overhead cam cause the disappearance of the flat-head engine and have watched plastic and aluminum replace rubber, wood, and steel in cars. I seen flat clear windows replaced with curved and tinted safety glass. I've seen leather and cloth replaced by plastic and man-made materials called cloth. I've also seen pride of ownership shift from how fast, powerful, and gas consuming a car was to how sleek and gas saving it is. I've also seen open windows and free-flowing air replaced by closed windows and air conditioning in addition to simple radios being replaced with body-vibrating stereos which can be heard and felt from blocks away in the city and a mile away in the country. I've seen the classic delivery trucks, pick ups, and the woodie station wagon homogenize into vans of all sizes and conformations. I've seen the classic military jeep become an over-sized atrocity for high-income earners, or the pretenders, as well as a consumer statement. And I've seen the term country become urban. I've also seen the population ratio of dependence on agriculture change from about 80/20 to 98/2, meaning that the larger number to the left of the slash is the portion of the population dependent on the smaller portion which produces its food. It frightens me.
I've seen single-engine, twin-engine, and four-engine airplanes take command of the skies. I saw my first contrail when I was about seven-years-of-age. My older brother was looking into the very blue sky one sunny day and almost cloudless day and I asked what he was looking at. He said he was watching a jet. Looking up, I asked him what a jet was. He told me it was a new kind of plane, but he couldn't explain it when I asked him how it was different from the planes I knew about. But it's single contrail up there was what he pointed out first and then the silvery spot slightly ahead of the wispy streak. Subsequently, I've seen the demise of the propeller-driven passenger plane and the advent and ascent of the passenger jet. I've seen as well the growth, proliferation, and expansion of airports though out this country as well as the world. I've seen passenger planes develop from from a capacity of a dozen or so passengers to being able to transport hundreds of people along with huge volumes of mail and other cargo. I've seen the speed of passenger aircraft increase from a plane being able to travel the length of Illinois in three to five hours to cross-continent flights of about the same duration.
I realize at this point that I can't list all of the changes in a single blog. Much less can I talk about what I've learned or felt through witnessing the changes. But among them, the worst thing I've witnessed is the utter contamination of the planet brought on by industrialism and rampant consumerism in the name of giving mankind a better life and higher quality of life. I've also seen concomitant with industrialism and consumerism an increased definition between the have and have-not classes. Thinking about all of the primal native groups I've studied, I see that wealth is a matter of perception to start with. In the primal groups, wealth can be the number of wives or hogs a man or woman owns--even husbands in a few societies. In technological societies, wealth is the illusion of owning numbers called money. And that illusion is so much more powerful and corruptible than almost any other force existent in mankind's present.
This is where I close. I've seen many changes and I don't believe many to have been for the betterment of anyone or anything.
Think it through.
Wednesday, August 5, 2009
Tuesday, June 16, 2009
Redefining Christianity
I've long been put off by Christianity. It started when I was a very young though I tried to conform to its practices, dogma, and beliefs. I was sent to church, sunday school, and bible school by my parents, and taken by my great-grandmother with whom I lived for a few years while very young. We walked to church mostly, except in very inclement weather. We usually went to the nearest but every now and then my brother, sister, and I were invited to go to another church by some family, usually the parents of one of my sister's friends. We went to Pentecostal, Methodist, Baptist, Lutheran, Christian, Evangelical, and Catholic services so I pretty much had a broad exposure to most of the tenets, beliefs, teachings, and philosophies of Christianity in many of its forms. I went to a various churches in Southern Illinois as well as in the northern part. I attended Christian service while in the Army. I was baptized in the First Christian Church in Rock Island, Ill. after, at the age of six or seven, I walked down the aisle to be the only person to answer the call one Sunday when the church was about three-fourths full. I participated in communion after the baptism, partaking of the drink and the wafer along with all of the other Saved church members. But I never felt one whit different except for that sensation of being impelled to walk down the aisle to stand alone, looking up, at the base of the podium where Reverend Hoe was ready to close the Call, not having noticed the small boy at his feet.
I've felt that sense of being impelled, nudged, tugged, or pulled many times since then, but I've never connected with the message delivered from the pulpits of the Christian churches I've attended. There is too much unexplained and too many convolutions that can't be explained and don't make enough sense to be able to trust the supposed message. So, I've been looking most of my life for answers. I think I've found some and have begun to feel secure in what I've discovered and in the epiphanies that burst over me so many times that I can't begin remember them all, much less count them. And the thing about these epiphanies is that, when I explain my new insights to others, I invariably will see good changes in those people I confide in. They see the reason and the soundness in my insights almost always with just me simply telling them the background usually and then explaining the insight. No one has told me that my ideas are crack pot nor in error and all of this led to me applying for and receiving an ordination in the Universal Life Church. I'm now planning, along with two other people, the beginning of a church dedicated to teaching a redefined Christianity--Christianity explained in a way that makes sense gives a person much more security in himself as well as a cogent body of philosophy to work from and on which to base good sound morals and spirituality.
It's taken me a long long time to get to this point. I am much like any other person asked to teach spirituality. I asked over and over, "Me? Me? Why me?" It's taken since about 1965 to get the answer. It's because I have found some answers and they need to be taught to people who are searching for them as I was.
So, I am going to be a spiritual teacher, which is what Jesus was and was the way he viewed himself--as a teacher.
Walk in Peace, Love, and Harmony.
I've felt that sense of being impelled, nudged, tugged, or pulled many times since then, but I've never connected with the message delivered from the pulpits of the Christian churches I've attended. There is too much unexplained and too many convolutions that can't be explained and don't make enough sense to be able to trust the supposed message. So, I've been looking most of my life for answers. I think I've found some and have begun to feel secure in what I've discovered and in the epiphanies that burst over me so many times that I can't begin remember them all, much less count them. And the thing about these epiphanies is that, when I explain my new insights to others, I invariably will see good changes in those people I confide in. They see the reason and the soundness in my insights almost always with just me simply telling them the background usually and then explaining the insight. No one has told me that my ideas are crack pot nor in error and all of this led to me applying for and receiving an ordination in the Universal Life Church. I'm now planning, along with two other people, the beginning of a church dedicated to teaching a redefined Christianity--Christianity explained in a way that makes sense gives a person much more security in himself as well as a cogent body of philosophy to work from and on which to base good sound morals and spirituality.
It's taken me a long long time to get to this point. I am much like any other person asked to teach spirituality. I asked over and over, "Me? Me? Why me?" It's taken since about 1965 to get the answer. It's because I have found some answers and they need to be taught to people who are searching for them as I was.
So, I am going to be a spiritual teacher, which is what Jesus was and was the way he viewed himself--as a teacher.
Walk in Peace, Love, and Harmony.
Tuesday, June 9, 2009
The White Man's Retirement Program
My wife and I own two acres near Hot Springs, AR tucked into a nice little valley just about two miles from town. In the summer, the temperature is at least twenty degrees lower than in town because of all of the trees and grass and in the winter it never receives even half of the snow that falls on the major intersection only about a mile away. While the valley, which we've named Peaceful Valley, never receives nearly the amount of rain the city does, we get enough to have green grass and to sustain the many many trees which surround us as well as those that populate our two acres. I've had time to reflect on a lot of things since we bought our land, especially on the necessity of mowing grass.
I can't think of a single exercise that has any less value or purpose than grass mowing. It's right down there with improving land which in real estate means to strip a piece of land of all of it's flora, build something on it, then go back and plant grass, or put down mats of grass from grass farms, or to cover it with asphalt or concrete. Strip the land of Nature and all of its irregular shapes of bushes, plants, and trees, ridding the area of the shade as well as of the foliage that purifies the atmosphere, then recover it with square or rectangular boxes and smooth-shorn grass or flat untillable concrete or asphalt, man-made materials. Then the owner gets to buy a mower, herbicides, pesticides, and fertilizer--all of chemical origin--and goes about taking care of that lawn, and maybe some flower beds, for the rest of his ownership, maybe his life. It isn't enough to just accept what's there and work with it. It has to be stripped, burned, and/or buried. The the white man's plan dictates that he work on it in whatever spare time he may have.
We have trees and weeds around us. I mow the grass because my wife more or less demands it. But I hate the entire concept. If the Creator had wanted me to mow grass, I'd have been born with something on my body that would facilitate the activity or It would have created something else to mow the grass instead. It did neither. Man invented the concept and I believe it was very probably a rich white man. I'd like to find him and apply some retroactive birth control.
I was sitting on a bench in our yard looking at the woods around us and listening to the quiet. Yes, listening...to...the...quiet. I know that you in the cities don't really understand what that is with all of the traffic twenty-four hours a day and you electronic devices that cut you off from the real world not to mention things such as air conditioning and closed windows and doors. You can try to imagine, but I know you won't be able to, sitting quietly in the middle of the afternoon listening to a quiet so profound that total peace washes through you. That's what happened to me. Then I looked at the small area of the yard I'd mowed and I thought of the uselessness of the destruction of all of those plants and insects. Yes, there were many wonderful insects living among that wilderness of what you in the city would call weeds.
I wonder what the Indians did before the white man came with his retirement plan.
I can't think of a single exercise that has any less value or purpose than grass mowing. It's right down there with improving land which in real estate means to strip a piece of land of all of it's flora, build something on it, then go back and plant grass, or put down mats of grass from grass farms, or to cover it with asphalt or concrete. Strip the land of Nature and all of its irregular shapes of bushes, plants, and trees, ridding the area of the shade as well as of the foliage that purifies the atmosphere, then recover it with square or rectangular boxes and smooth-shorn grass or flat untillable concrete or asphalt, man-made materials. Then the owner gets to buy a mower, herbicides, pesticides, and fertilizer--all of chemical origin--and goes about taking care of that lawn, and maybe some flower beds, for the rest of his ownership, maybe his life. It isn't enough to just accept what's there and work with it. It has to be stripped, burned, and/or buried. The the white man's plan dictates that he work on it in whatever spare time he may have.
We have trees and weeds around us. I mow the grass because my wife more or less demands it. But I hate the entire concept. If the Creator had wanted me to mow grass, I'd have been born with something on my body that would facilitate the activity or It would have created something else to mow the grass instead. It did neither. Man invented the concept and I believe it was very probably a rich white man. I'd like to find him and apply some retroactive birth control.
I was sitting on a bench in our yard looking at the woods around us and listening to the quiet. Yes, listening...to...the...quiet. I know that you in the cities don't really understand what that is with all of the traffic twenty-four hours a day and you electronic devices that cut you off from the real world not to mention things such as air conditioning and closed windows and doors. You can try to imagine, but I know you won't be able to, sitting quietly in the middle of the afternoon listening to a quiet so profound that total peace washes through you. That's what happened to me. Then I looked at the small area of the yard I'd mowed and I thought of the uselessness of the destruction of all of those plants and insects. Yes, there were many wonderful insects living among that wilderness of what you in the city would call weeds.
I wonder what the Indians did before the white man came with his retirement plan.
Sunday, April 26, 2009
The Argument
Having just watched a program on Science Channel called The Day the Earth Almost Died, I am struck by the amount of work, serious thought, and search for evidence which has gone into debunking evolution as well as to substantiate it. Until science and evolutionary theory developed sufficiently, religious philosophy ruled the way man saw and, to a large degree, interacted with his environment. If the weather was good, the gods were happy with man. If the weather was bad, the gods were unhappy. Illness was a malady visited on someone who had displeased the gods or spirits. Almost all extremes, even non-extremes, were attributed to the work of displeased or pleased supernatural beings such as gods or spirits. Much of that exists today despite science and its attempt to understand the Universe from its sub-micro sphere to its extra-macro sphere. I think it will be impossible unless we ourselves somehow become as gods, if not gods ourselves--not meaning to be blasphemous. What I'm leading into here is the adamant defense of Christian religious groups in the U.S., if not in other countries, of the idea of a Intelligent Design in the face of all of the data, evidence, and demonstrable proof, as well as probabilities that add up to enough reason, if not proof, of and for the Theory of Evolution.
In the program, "The Day the Earth Almost Died, the planet was rife with life some 40 million years ago, but underwent a glaciation period which destroyed all life except, I believe, some forms in the seas and a single dinosaur species on land. It is believed that all present land forms evolved from that single species of dinosaur which sounds as far fetched as the Biblical theory that the Earth, Heavens, and everything thereon or therein were made by a supreme being within six days, literally. Still, science has more going for it than a single story taken from a book assembled from selected scripts over hundreds of years, if not a thousand or more. Science has millions of artifacts at its fingertips which can be studied in an ordered manner whereas the Book has a number of stories laid out in chapter and verse handed down over the centuries with no real way to verify the veracity of any single event in any single one of them. There also is a lack of a chain of reason additional to the lack of a chain of evidence. So, I have a hard time believing the theory extended by Christians and Jews, possibly Muslims also, purporting to explain the creation of the Universe. Rather, I think there is something somewhere in the middle that both theories ignore because both are so far off center and so bent on proving the veracity of its own area of thought.
What could take the middle position?
It might be the one thing, the one concept that has escaped both fields of thought--that the life force, or God--is the Universe and that It is energy in its purest most sublime and immeasurable form. That It permeates every single atom of the Universe, that even the smallest sub atomic particle is permeated by`It, that It is the Intelligence the Christians crave to prove and scientists are laboring to figure out without knowing that's what they really are doing.
What if?
It is such a simple solution, but the problem is that it requires each side to suspend its beliefs and doctrines at least temporarily in order to entertain a possibility outside of the argument each poses, yet a possibility which unifies both and explains inconsistencies inherent to both. In effect it's similar to welding aluminum and copper. It's the agent which solidifies both concepts and erases the inexplicable contradictions which arise when either tries to defend its stance solely on the basis of its own information.
A unique aspect of "God" is that teat name is unique in English, German, Spanish, and French to the best of my knowledge. It very possibly may be unique in Hebrew and Latin also, though I don't know that for sure. I suspect that the name will be unique in any language but, again, I don't know that. The point here is that the name is given to an object which can not be in any way proven to exist. Effects in what is perceived as reality can be attributed to it and a book, as well as hundreds of thousands of writings, can be pointed to as support for the idea of Its existence. But it can not be physically proven that thing, this object, called God actually has existence. It's just the same as with any fictional character, Cinderella for example. The literature is there telling the story, but there is nothing more than a mental image of this fictional character and possible emotion when thinking of the story. Such is the realm which God inhabits philosophically.
So this uniqueness is what Science has to struggle with while western religion struggles with strict adherence to stories and explanations in a book which developed from the writings and memories of many people over hundreds, if not a thousand or more, years. Why must the two be mutually exclusive? Why not find a way to include the unexplainable in each in a manner that marries them? Why not consider the Creator as the Universe and part of every single particle of it no matter who diminutive no how massive? Why not make it the motivating factor behind the Big Bang? Doesn't this explain the expression, "...Let there be Light. And there was Light?"
How much more light do we need?
In the program, "The Day the Earth Almost Died, the planet was rife with life some 40 million years ago, but underwent a glaciation period which destroyed all life except, I believe, some forms in the seas and a single dinosaur species on land. It is believed that all present land forms evolved from that single species of dinosaur which sounds as far fetched as the Biblical theory that the Earth, Heavens, and everything thereon or therein were made by a supreme being within six days, literally. Still, science has more going for it than a single story taken from a book assembled from selected scripts over hundreds of years, if not a thousand or more. Science has millions of artifacts at its fingertips which can be studied in an ordered manner whereas the Book has a number of stories laid out in chapter and verse handed down over the centuries with no real way to verify the veracity of any single event in any single one of them. There also is a lack of a chain of reason additional to the lack of a chain of evidence. So, I have a hard time believing the theory extended by Christians and Jews, possibly Muslims also, purporting to explain the creation of the Universe. Rather, I think there is something somewhere in the middle that both theories ignore because both are so far off center and so bent on proving the veracity of its own area of thought.
What could take the middle position?
It might be the one thing, the one concept that has escaped both fields of thought--that the life force, or God--is the Universe and that It is energy in its purest most sublime and immeasurable form. That It permeates every single atom of the Universe, that even the smallest sub atomic particle is permeated by`It, that It is the Intelligence the Christians crave to prove and scientists are laboring to figure out without knowing that's what they really are doing.
What if?
It is such a simple solution, but the problem is that it requires each side to suspend its beliefs and doctrines at least temporarily in order to entertain a possibility outside of the argument each poses, yet a possibility which unifies both and explains inconsistencies inherent to both. In effect it's similar to welding aluminum and copper. It's the agent which solidifies both concepts and erases the inexplicable contradictions which arise when either tries to defend its stance solely on the basis of its own information.
A unique aspect of "God" is that teat name is unique in English, German, Spanish, and French to the best of my knowledge. It very possibly may be unique in Hebrew and Latin also, though I don't know that for sure. I suspect that the name will be unique in any language but, again, I don't know that. The point here is that the name is given to an object which can not be in any way proven to exist. Effects in what is perceived as reality can be attributed to it and a book, as well as hundreds of thousands of writings, can be pointed to as support for the idea of Its existence. But it can not be physically proven that thing, this object, called God actually has existence. It's just the same as with any fictional character, Cinderella for example. The literature is there telling the story, but there is nothing more than a mental image of this fictional character and possible emotion when thinking of the story. Such is the realm which God inhabits philosophically.
So this uniqueness is what Science has to struggle with while western religion struggles with strict adherence to stories and explanations in a book which developed from the writings and memories of many people over hundreds, if not a thousand or more, years. Why must the two be mutually exclusive? Why not find a way to include the unexplainable in each in a manner that marries them? Why not consider the Creator as the Universe and part of every single particle of it no matter who diminutive no how massive? Why not make it the motivating factor behind the Big Bang? Doesn't this explain the expression, "...Let there be Light. And there was Light?"
How much more light do we need?
Wednesday, April 15, 2009
A Society Grows on Its Stomach
We are so inundated by an abundance of material goods in this country that we have lost complete contact, awareness, and knowledge of its primary major strength. Every single person in the U.S. is a recipient to some degree of the fruits of this strength and almost every foreign country in someway also is benefited. But, were it not for the most basic supply of all, we couldn't have achieved the strides in production we have nor would human population be increasing as it is. This basic supply is the one thing along with water and air that no person on this Earth can do without--food.
The one discovery that let man get away from the forests, savannas, plains, pampas, and jungles was recognizing and learning how to grow the food he wanted so that it would always be at hand. Maybe it also was so that he wouldn't have to search or relocate so far from home to find game or gather herbs, vegetables, fruits, nuts, and all of the other things necessary for living at the time. How and why man developed farming remains a mystery and I'll leave it as such. But, farming for oneself and family has developed over the millenia into large corporations and conglomerates that produce and control much of the diet of technological countries and are fast ruining stable healthful diets of the rest of the world. It is hard to go anywhere and not find some product or artifact of industry-produced food, be it treats, snacks, or something more substantial.
An adage has it that armies travel on their stomachs, a truth that is so apparent that most people don't consider its profoundness. Most of the ancient armies survived on breads they could make over campfires or on provisions carried individually by each soldier. Most of the richer rulers waging war tried to feed their armies but all to often had to resort to pillaging for food anyway. The Romans developed a type of hardtack to feed soldiers and records show that other foodstuffs were also carried along. The Roman hardtack became the mainstay of Roman armies because it was almost completely unspoilable. Other armies of Europe carried other kinds of breads similar to hardtack which also maintained their edibility for long periods and the British seem to have perfected its production for their seaman.
Over the ages rulers experimented with all kinds of ways to preserve and carry provisions for their armies. But it was Napoleon who recognized that an army travels on its stomach and offered a 12,000 franc prize for a process which could allow him to carry provisions with him in his campaigns. This stimulated the development of the can, though hand made at the time. Napoleon never got to use canned goods for his armies because the canning process was so laborious and developed too slowly for him to take advantage of it. He was long out of office when commercial canning finally came into its own.
All this is about showing how military campaigns affected the supply of food as we know it today. Without their impetus we in all probability would not have preserved and packaged foods today. We might well still be agriculturally bound societies instead of technologically dependent.
Providing food for the military in many countries seems to have been the primary motivation, next to profit, for the development of the present food processing and distribution system in technological countries. All “developed” countries have industry, technology, and pervasive food-distribution at the base of their economies and societies. Without any of these, their present societal structure would fail disastrously. The United States would be no exception, although there are many people living in rural areas who could and would find ways to feed themselves. But the thrust of all this explanation is that, without the present food processing and distribution motivated by military needs, none of today's technological societies could exist. As armies march on their stomachs, societies grow on theirs.
Think about it.
Walk in Peace, Love, and Happiness.
Thursday, February 5, 2009
More About Money
If I'm consistent in anything, it's in my inconsistency. I start and stop many many things, but always with the attitude that you have to start moving to at least find out whether you're moving in the right direction. If you aren't, then stop and figure out which direction you should be moving in and go that way. But the key is to move, just move. If you aren't moving, you aren't going anywhere and that means that you're directionless. You're afraid to move because you don't want to make a mistake or you don't have a goal. This whole society is directionless and has been for a long time. Maybe with Obama it will begin moving in a more positive and satisfying manner again, one with direction and purpose. At least, his administration is showing signs of trying to get some movement initiated.
Yet, there is the Rock of Gibraltar called finances that has to be made to move. Finances: a concept developed to describe the management of money--another concept in itself. Finance and money management. Strange, using one concept to describe and manage another. It's very much like using this illusion to describe and manage that one. As far back as I can recall this kind of thing has been called magic or illusion.
The fact is money is only an illusion. It's power comes from its believability. People accept it as something real and valuable: the illusion. But money in itself is only metal or paper with designs impressed or printed on each piece. Numbers meant to assign some value to the various pieces of money are mixed with the designs and the human mind accepts the numbers as something real and tangible that can be used in trade for other real and tangible goods. The numbers represent some imagined value placed on whatever is exchanging hands. Store those numbers in some manner in a bank, for instance, and one seems to be acquiring more value or enrichment. The more one numbers one has and can exchange for the goods, products, or services desired, the more affluent--richer--one is thought to be. All of this is illusion, imagination in action. Seeing money in this light simply reinforces to me that is simply a tool.
I repeat, money is simply a tool. Just as a wrench is a tool. Or just as a vehicle is a tool, though a big complicated one, money is simply a tool. The same as with a gun, a knife, a hammer, or anything that man uses to maintain itself is a tool, though a pretty sophisticated one. All machines in the strictest sense are tools. And money, though not a machine, is a tool of such sophistication that fewer than two percent of the world's money users have learned how to use it to their benefit. Almost anyone can learn to use a hammer within a very short period, a few days if not within just a few hours. Of all of man's tools, though, money is the most powerful and versatile as well as the most difficult to master.
Take a set of ordinary wrenches. A person who knows how to use them can earn a living making and repairing things with wrenches. Mechanics and plumbers are two good examples. Without wrenches neither can do either repairs or earn money. The reason there are mechanics and plumbers is that people refuse to learn even the basics about their own vehicles or plumbing. When something goes awry with either, almost everyone calls for a mechanic or plumber who puts his or her wrenches to work, then is given compensation in the form of money. He or she is paid with imaginary number values for services rendered. We do this throughout the society, though in many cases the exchange is imaginary value (numbers) for products or goods, tangibles.
Most people can use a wrench well enough to tighten bolts and nuts which I liken to paying one's bills and buying food and other necessities with money. But, using the wrench or any other physical tool for anything more complicated than the most minor of repairs is beyond the ability and skill of the vast majority of the citizenry of this country, even beyond the desire to have the desire to have the ability. All of this is true of money. Most people of this country don't even have the necessary minimal skills to take care of required maintenance--paying bills, rent, house payments, medical costs, and food and clothing costs. And don't even mention balancing a check book. Why? Because few anywhere realize or have been taught competent use of money just as few have been taught competent use of any tools. Nor have we been taught the discipline required to use it properly, again, just as few of us have been taught competent use of tools in general.
A person with a good set of tools, with which he can do and make things for himself--or earn his livelihood, maintains and replaces them as necessary. Because he maintains and replaces them, he can work with them all of his life and they will earn him more income, so much in fact that the amount each costs is negligible compared to the gross earnings it will provide him during its existence and use. A tool user doesn't trade his tools for something providing transient momentary pleasure or satisfaction. He understands that tools have a permanent earning value, that, if he traded for something insignificant, he would lose that earning potential. Yet, we do the very opposite with money everyday and many times throughout the day without ever considering the future earning potential of the money we give up for inconsequential luxuries.
Just as a box full of tools can help one make a living, so can a handful of money. A person can take a few tools and earn enough money to live on and also buy another tool or two now and then. As one adds to his tool collection, he expands the range of work he can do and can thereby increase his income. Also, as one gains experience and repute he will garner more work as well as a higher income. Unfortunately, few enough people learn these principles about money just as they don't learn similar principles about hand tools. Very few people understand that saving is for investing and that budgeting is for being able to have he money necessary to pay for necessities as they occur, including health needs. Of the very few who save, almost none save to use that money for investment and to make their money tools larger and more powerful at some future date. Rather, money is seen as a means to immediate pleasure. Yet who would think of using a crescent or open-end wrench for immediate pleasure? If one earns with his wrenches, he eventually reinvests some of the income in more wrenches that will allow him to do more kinds of work. The more kinds of work he can do, the more he will be in demand, and the more he will be able to charge for his time and services. And every step here deals with the one tool called money.
The illusion of money is so pervasive and so powerful that it corrupts at every level, but especially where it is readily available. Enron and the U.S. government are two of the best examples. It's hard to argue that the illusion doesn't corrupt when one closely examines the federal budget to see where the money goes. The Enron scandal has already been examined in minute detail and the case stands as a prime example of this thesis. If more are needed, it is only necessary to point to the Wall-Street bailout and the consequent misuse of public funds for the enrichment and luxury of the moguls of the industry.
The illusion of money also is the major factor in the distinction among classes in most countries of the planet. The rich are the powerful and the elite. The poor support the rich in the same manner that the base of a pyramid is so much larger than its top--the poor being the base and the very rich being near or at the apex. The very rich are at the top of the apex because of the illusion of ability that their investing and earning acumen has given them some special ability. What it actually has given them is the a much stronger ability to exchange the idea of money and value with others for a higher level of goods, products, and services. Others will work for them for a certain number to be received each week, or some determined period, which is considered compensation for services rendered. This number is then parceled out to others in the worker's supply chain by which he supports and supplies his life with what he considers necessary. All of this is done with the idea of value being exchanged from person to person, in short, the idea of money. And this idea is the power of the tool we call money.
We work and slave and sell our lives second by second for an idea and what its illusion can bring us in good, products, and services. We live in self-imposed slavery because we accept the illusion and the necessity to live under its rules and regimen. Until we break with this illusion, we will continue polluting the Earth and destroying its fauna and flora only because we are pursuing something we can't all attain. It's called wealth--the accumulation of the imaginary numbers which modern societies redefine as money.
Think about it.
Walk in Peace and Love.
Yet, there is the Rock of Gibraltar called finances that has to be made to move. Finances: a concept developed to describe the management of money--another concept in itself. Finance and money management. Strange, using one concept to describe and manage another. It's very much like using this illusion to describe and manage that one. As far back as I can recall this kind of thing has been called magic or illusion.
The fact is money is only an illusion. It's power comes from its believability. People accept it as something real and valuable: the illusion. But money in itself is only metal or paper with designs impressed or printed on each piece. Numbers meant to assign some value to the various pieces of money are mixed with the designs and the human mind accepts the numbers as something real and tangible that can be used in trade for other real and tangible goods. The numbers represent some imagined value placed on whatever is exchanging hands. Store those numbers in some manner in a bank, for instance, and one seems to be acquiring more value or enrichment. The more one numbers one has and can exchange for the goods, products, or services desired, the more affluent--richer--one is thought to be. All of this is illusion, imagination in action. Seeing money in this light simply reinforces to me that is simply a tool.
I repeat, money is simply a tool. Just as a wrench is a tool. Or just as a vehicle is a tool, though a big complicated one, money is simply a tool. The same as with a gun, a knife, a hammer, or anything that man uses to maintain itself is a tool, though a pretty sophisticated one. All machines in the strictest sense are tools. And money, though not a machine, is a tool of such sophistication that fewer than two percent of the world's money users have learned how to use it to their benefit. Almost anyone can learn to use a hammer within a very short period, a few days if not within just a few hours. Of all of man's tools, though, money is the most powerful and versatile as well as the most difficult to master.
Take a set of ordinary wrenches. A person who knows how to use them can earn a living making and repairing things with wrenches. Mechanics and plumbers are two good examples. Without wrenches neither can do either repairs or earn money. The reason there are mechanics and plumbers is that people refuse to learn even the basics about their own vehicles or plumbing. When something goes awry with either, almost everyone calls for a mechanic or plumber who puts his or her wrenches to work, then is given compensation in the form of money. He or she is paid with imaginary number values for services rendered. We do this throughout the society, though in many cases the exchange is imaginary value (numbers) for products or goods, tangibles.
Most people can use a wrench well enough to tighten bolts and nuts which I liken to paying one's bills and buying food and other necessities with money. But, using the wrench or any other physical tool for anything more complicated than the most minor of repairs is beyond the ability and skill of the vast majority of the citizenry of this country, even beyond the desire to have the desire to have the ability. All of this is true of money. Most people of this country don't even have the necessary minimal skills to take care of required maintenance--paying bills, rent, house payments, medical costs, and food and clothing costs. And don't even mention balancing a check book. Why? Because few anywhere realize or have been taught competent use of money just as few have been taught competent use of any tools. Nor have we been taught the discipline required to use it properly, again, just as few of us have been taught competent use of tools in general.
A person with a good set of tools, with which he can do and make things for himself--or earn his livelihood, maintains and replaces them as necessary. Because he maintains and replaces them, he can work with them all of his life and they will earn him more income, so much in fact that the amount each costs is negligible compared to the gross earnings it will provide him during its existence and use. A tool user doesn't trade his tools for something providing transient momentary pleasure or satisfaction. He understands that tools have a permanent earning value, that, if he traded for something insignificant, he would lose that earning potential. Yet, we do the very opposite with money everyday and many times throughout the day without ever considering the future earning potential of the money we give up for inconsequential luxuries.
Just as a box full of tools can help one make a living, so can a handful of money. A person can take a few tools and earn enough money to live on and also buy another tool or two now and then. As one adds to his tool collection, he expands the range of work he can do and can thereby increase his income. Also, as one gains experience and repute he will garner more work as well as a higher income. Unfortunately, few enough people learn these principles about money just as they don't learn similar principles about hand tools. Very few people understand that saving is for investing and that budgeting is for being able to have he money necessary to pay for necessities as they occur, including health needs. Of the very few who save, almost none save to use that money for investment and to make their money tools larger and more powerful at some future date. Rather, money is seen as a means to immediate pleasure. Yet who would think of using a crescent or open-end wrench for immediate pleasure? If one earns with his wrenches, he eventually reinvests some of the income in more wrenches that will allow him to do more kinds of work. The more kinds of work he can do, the more he will be in demand, and the more he will be able to charge for his time and services. And every step here deals with the one tool called money.
The illusion of money is so pervasive and so powerful that it corrupts at every level, but especially where it is readily available. Enron and the U.S. government are two of the best examples. It's hard to argue that the illusion doesn't corrupt when one closely examines the federal budget to see where the money goes. The Enron scandal has already been examined in minute detail and the case stands as a prime example of this thesis. If more are needed, it is only necessary to point to the Wall-Street bailout and the consequent misuse of public funds for the enrichment and luxury of the moguls of the industry.
The illusion of money also is the major factor in the distinction among classes in most countries of the planet. The rich are the powerful and the elite. The poor support the rich in the same manner that the base of a pyramid is so much larger than its top--the poor being the base and the very rich being near or at the apex. The very rich are at the top of the apex because of the illusion of ability that their investing and earning acumen has given them some special ability. What it actually has given them is the a much stronger ability to exchange the idea of money and value with others for a higher level of goods, products, and services. Others will work for them for a certain number to be received each week, or some determined period, which is considered compensation for services rendered. This number is then parceled out to others in the worker's supply chain by which he supports and supplies his life with what he considers necessary. All of this is done with the idea of value being exchanged from person to person, in short, the idea of money. And this idea is the power of the tool we call money.
We work and slave and sell our lives second by second for an idea and what its illusion can bring us in good, products, and services. We live in self-imposed slavery because we accept the illusion and the necessity to live under its rules and regimen. Until we break with this illusion, we will continue polluting the Earth and destroying its fauna and flora only because we are pursuing something we can't all attain. It's called wealth--the accumulation of the imaginary numbers which modern societies redefine as money.
Think about it.
Walk in Peace and Love.
Wednesday, January 28, 2009
Links to Enironmental Issues
http://www.ucsusa.org/action/alerts/tell-me-more/pass-global-warming-policy.html
http://albuquerque.bizjournals.com/albuquerque/othercities/boston/stories/2009/01/12/daily28.html
http://albuquerque.bizjournals.com/albuquerque/othercities/boston/stories/2009/01/12/daily28.html
Friday, January 16, 2009
Money
Many things make little sense to me in today's society. Money ranks high on the list and I've often wondered about it, why it came into existence, why its use is so widespread, why we struggle so hard for it.
The first thing that strikes me about money is that it makes no sense. Today, more than ever, it's strictly an illusion. The value of money lies in its exchange-ability. By this I mean that, if enough people were to refuse to accept money for their goods or services, the value of money would fall and the government would lose power over the populace. We're told that the primary reason for the money's devaluation is that the government prints too much. It's a distinct possibility, even a probability, but the primary cause for money to lose its purchasing power, called inflation, is the unwillingness of the public to accept it in exchange for services and products. The lack of confidence in money which causes people not to accept it in exchange for their wares or services is caused by various factors, one of which being the government's pumping too much of it into the money cycle.
Think about this: The government, ours specifically--but also most other governments on the planet--has set itself up as the sole provider of money for the country. In doing so, it cured a couple of problems. First, it made a uniform medium of exchange nationwide and this was important because, when the original colonies formed, each had its own currency. Sometimes, between rivaling colonies, money from one wouldn't be accepted in the other. For the country to unify and to work, the founders established the right of the federal government to issue the sole currency of the land. In unifying the country through standardization of the system of currency, a huge degree of power was placed into the hands of the federal government. Ultimately, this is what money has been about throughout history. Power.
With the control of a nation's money in its grip, any government has the means to levy taxes as well as to have another aspect of control over the populace. It can demand, and has done so, that records be kept on business incomes and profit as well as on individual incomes. Where people are honest, the control is obvious. Where they are not above board with their incomes, their is little control. At one time, income taxes were voluntary in this country, but now are so controlled that employers are required to deduct them from employees' wages and pay them to the government on a regular basis. Then the employee is allowed to reclaim any overage at the end of the year which the government was paid in excess. Most people who pay taxes will say that they pay out of patriotic duty, but I will guarantee that, were the tax collection system made voluntary tomorrow, the influx of payments would stop as soon as those which were in the mail or in the banking system at the moment were processed. If they didn't cease, then they would diminish from a huge tide to a rivulet in the desert.
Then there are the property taxes. I have an apple orchard of, let's say, five hundred trees. One day along comes Mr. Tax Assessor and lays claim to fifty of my trees and tells me that in the name of the government, all of the produce from those trees belongs to the government and shall be given delivered to it at the end of the harvest season. What do I say? That this is a blatant form of robbery in the guise of government? No, I simply send my apples as required and hope that somehow next year the tax will be lower and I'll have a better crop and, and,....
Rulers and monarchs figured out many many centuries ago that the easiest way to pay for themselves was to make the populace pay their way and living for them. Some proclaimed themselves divine. Others proclaimed their might. But once someone figured out that a bit of shining metal could be exchanged for goods and services, governmental control became tighter and tighter from then on.
Money is only an advanced system of barter. It is a system of "I'll give you this for that" until both parties reach an agreement as to what is to be exchanged for what. Instead of exchanging a hog for a good dress for his wife, for example, a man can now lay down paper and metal, or plastic, and take the dress home, having simply exchanged the idea of numbers with the seller of the dress. The same goes for anything wherein money is the unit of exchange--houses, jewels, cars, drugs, etc. This is why its use is so widespread. It's easier than hauling wares to exchange or working at some trade or chore for someone to be able to take home the item or items one wants. It's a facilitator. And it fills the role well. But it also hinders in that now one has to work exclusively for the illusion of having this bargaining power. Consequently, everyone caught in the system of the money cycle, except for a niggling few, struggle just as the poverty-ridden masses of ancient times did in order to eke out a basic level of living compared to the society surrounding them.
We struggle so hard for money because of the illusion everyone has accepted regarding its necessity. We are so deluded into thinking it necessary for our lives that we no longer fare for ourselves as did our ancestors. We want the things of the moment, the toys and products that make us feel as though we are accomplishing something. We want material things and not emotional or spiritual fulfillment and this is where money's power reigns supreme. As long as we want things we will struggle with the illusion of having to have money to fulfill our needs. And the Earth will continue to be polluted by the waste of our consumerism.
Walk in Peace and Love.
Will Quietwalker
The first thing that strikes me about money is that it makes no sense. Today, more than ever, it's strictly an illusion. The value of money lies in its exchange-ability. By this I mean that, if enough people were to refuse to accept money for their goods or services, the value of money would fall and the government would lose power over the populace. We're told that the primary reason for the money's devaluation is that the government prints too much. It's a distinct possibility, even a probability, but the primary cause for money to lose its purchasing power, called inflation, is the unwillingness of the public to accept it in exchange for services and products. The lack of confidence in money which causes people not to accept it in exchange for their wares or services is caused by various factors, one of which being the government's pumping too much of it into the money cycle.
Think about this: The government, ours specifically--but also most other governments on the planet--has set itself up as the sole provider of money for the country. In doing so, it cured a couple of problems. First, it made a uniform medium of exchange nationwide and this was important because, when the original colonies formed, each had its own currency. Sometimes, between rivaling colonies, money from one wouldn't be accepted in the other. For the country to unify and to work, the founders established the right of the federal government to issue the sole currency of the land. In unifying the country through standardization of the system of currency, a huge degree of power was placed into the hands of the federal government. Ultimately, this is what money has been about throughout history. Power.
With the control of a nation's money in its grip, any government has the means to levy taxes as well as to have another aspect of control over the populace. It can demand, and has done so, that records be kept on business incomes and profit as well as on individual incomes. Where people are honest, the control is obvious. Where they are not above board with their incomes, their is little control. At one time, income taxes were voluntary in this country, but now are so controlled that employers are required to deduct them from employees' wages and pay them to the government on a regular basis. Then the employee is allowed to reclaim any overage at the end of the year which the government was paid in excess. Most people who pay taxes will say that they pay out of patriotic duty, but I will guarantee that, were the tax collection system made voluntary tomorrow, the influx of payments would stop as soon as those which were in the mail or in the banking system at the moment were processed. If they didn't cease, then they would diminish from a huge tide to a rivulet in the desert.
Then there are the property taxes. I have an apple orchard of, let's say, five hundred trees. One day along comes Mr. Tax Assessor and lays claim to fifty of my trees and tells me that in the name of the government, all of the produce from those trees belongs to the government and shall be given delivered to it at the end of the harvest season. What do I say? That this is a blatant form of robbery in the guise of government? No, I simply send my apples as required and hope that somehow next year the tax will be lower and I'll have a better crop and, and,....
Rulers and monarchs figured out many many centuries ago that the easiest way to pay for themselves was to make the populace pay their way and living for them. Some proclaimed themselves divine. Others proclaimed their might. But once someone figured out that a bit of shining metal could be exchanged for goods and services, governmental control became tighter and tighter from then on.
Money is only an advanced system of barter. It is a system of "I'll give you this for that" until both parties reach an agreement as to what is to be exchanged for what. Instead of exchanging a hog for a good dress for his wife, for example, a man can now lay down paper and metal, or plastic, and take the dress home, having simply exchanged the idea of numbers with the seller of the dress. The same goes for anything wherein money is the unit of exchange--houses, jewels, cars, drugs, etc. This is why its use is so widespread. It's easier than hauling wares to exchange or working at some trade or chore for someone to be able to take home the item or items one wants. It's a facilitator. And it fills the role well. But it also hinders in that now one has to work exclusively for the illusion of having this bargaining power. Consequently, everyone caught in the system of the money cycle, except for a niggling few, struggle just as the poverty-ridden masses of ancient times did in order to eke out a basic level of living compared to the society surrounding them.
We struggle so hard for money because of the illusion everyone has accepted regarding its necessity. We are so deluded into thinking it necessary for our lives that we no longer fare for ourselves as did our ancestors. We want the things of the moment, the toys and products that make us feel as though we are accomplishing something. We want material things and not emotional or spiritual fulfillment and this is where money's power reigns supreme. As long as we want things we will struggle with the illusion of having to have money to fulfill our needs. And the Earth will continue to be polluted by the waste of our consumerism.
Walk in Peace and Love.
Will Quietwalker
Sunday, January 11, 2009
Native-American Discrimination
I used to be a terrible bigot. I still am too, but not racially. My bigotry is a total dislike of ignorance when a peson has the ability to be and know more, but chooses neither. And bigotry makes me smolder when I bump into it. A 67-year-old Caucasian male, I encounter various kinds of bigotry aimed my direction, some intentional, other unintentional; or, should I say, unknowing. Still it's all bigotry, still discrimination, and I rankle every time I bump into it or it bumps into me.
I used to make beaded jewelry. I supported my family for a few years with it and we traveled a lot to arts and crafts fairs where we sold my work. Sometimes, my work was juried, but most often not. I went to a couple of powwows and had no problem being accepted by the tribes who allowed me to show my work. A lot of Native Americans bought my work and told me how much they liked it even though I didn't follow known Native-American designs and/or color schemes. A few even told me that it was some of the best bead work they'd seen.
I stopped doing bead work some eight to ten years ago. I became discouraged for a number of reasons, not the least from being able only to eke out a basic living and constantly having to scratch to make ends meet. So, I haven't done bead work for at least eight years with any regularity or seriousness. I did try again this last year and found a small market where I was able to make a few dollars rather quickly. I was excited enough by the success to start putting in some serious time at my beading table again, but, over a period of a few weeks, discovered that my eyesight has gotten bad enough that I can no longer do the work. So, again, stopped.
Two years ago, someone set up a bead shop in town within a few miles of our home. I'd thought about going in and looking around, but was never attracted to the place. Why? Well, I was following my feelings which all to often prove to be very accurate. Over the last couple of years, I've gotten tired of looking at my beading supplies sitting around collecting dust I've frequently felt that I could and should sell them for whatever money I could get for them and be done with that period of my life. Yet, I've been loathe to, for some reason, go into that store and offer my merchandise for sale. I vacillated and procrastinated. Then, this summer, I set up my merchandise near another powwow in Oklahoma. Taking inventory there just of the merchandise displayed, I toted up around 6,000 dollars in retail value. I have a back stock of beads that adds to that value, so the total probably runs close to 10,000 dollars. I figured that the owner of the store would probably be interested hearing my asking price. I was wrong. He wasn't. He told me that he and his wife don't buy from non-Native Americans. Hmmmmmmm.
My ancestors were here almost five hundred years ago. Doesn't that make me a Native American? Yes, his ancestors came to this continent some seven thousand years ago. So what's the difference? Well, a matter of a few thousand years, it seems. It's this attitude that's causing most of the problems between Israel and the rest of the Middle East. Israel didn't remain an identity throughout history. It was shoved down the throats of the countries of the Middle East at the end of WWII. There might still have been strife if this hadn't happened. But it wouldn't have occurred on the scale and with the intensity it does today and since the new Israel was formed. The new Israelis are not "native" to the region. And the warring to remove them is the most extreme form of discrimination.
The problem with that word, discrimination, and its use today is that it has taken on a primarily negative connotation. As a result most people understand and use it almost exclusively in racial and ethnic issues. Yet discrimination use to be used to mean the ability to discern and choose. A person of discrimination at one time meant a person of good judgment as well as someone who could keep confidences. A discriminating person used to mean someone who made good choices or had good taste as well. To be discriminating used to be complimentary.
What most of us don't realize is that we discriminate countless times throughout the day everyday. To discriminate means to discern differences and to make choices based on one's attitude toward those differences. My wife and I like peas so . My wife likes beets and we buy them for her. This is type of discrimination--choosing between things based on values, likes, dislikes, or emotional response. We discriminate when choosing anything in actuality.
We discriminate in making friends. We may choose to associate with someone because his interests are similar to ours or his personality is one we respond to positively. We like someone's hair, smile, mannerisms, or way of dressing or speaking. We choose the streets we drive for any number of reasons just as we choose where we live, where we shop, where we eat, where we take vacations, and how we travel. We choose throughout the day everyday, and that is discrimination in action.
So, what's the point of all of this? I guess it's about venting my frustration with having been blindly and ignorantly discriminated against due to the narrowness of someone else's ethnic identification. But, it's only my due I suppose. After all, I am a member of the white race which did, and still does, discriminate against every race of any other color. And I've simply been given a taste of what they go through everyday.
Walk in Peace and Love.
I used to make beaded jewelry. I supported my family for a few years with it and we traveled a lot to arts and crafts fairs where we sold my work. Sometimes, my work was juried, but most often not. I went to a couple of powwows and had no problem being accepted by the tribes who allowed me to show my work. A lot of Native Americans bought my work and told me how much they liked it even though I didn't follow known Native-American designs and/or color schemes. A few even told me that it was some of the best bead work they'd seen.
I stopped doing bead work some eight to ten years ago. I became discouraged for a number of reasons, not the least from being able only to eke out a basic living and constantly having to scratch to make ends meet. So, I haven't done bead work for at least eight years with any regularity or seriousness. I did try again this last year and found a small market where I was able to make a few dollars rather quickly. I was excited enough by the success to start putting in some serious time at my beading table again, but, over a period of a few weeks, discovered that my eyesight has gotten bad enough that I can no longer do the work. So, again, stopped.
Two years ago, someone set up a bead shop in town within a few miles of our home. I'd thought about going in and looking around, but was never attracted to the place. Why? Well, I was following my feelings which all to often prove to be very accurate. Over the last couple of years, I've gotten tired of looking at my beading supplies sitting around collecting dust I've frequently felt that I could and should sell them for whatever money I could get for them and be done with that period of my life. Yet, I've been loathe to, for some reason, go into that store and offer my merchandise for sale. I vacillated and procrastinated. Then, this summer, I set up my merchandise near another powwow in Oklahoma. Taking inventory there just of the merchandise displayed, I toted up around 6,000 dollars in retail value. I have a back stock of beads that adds to that value, so the total probably runs close to 10,000 dollars. I figured that the owner of the store would probably be interested hearing my asking price. I was wrong. He wasn't. He told me that he and his wife don't buy from non-Native Americans. Hmmmmmmm.
My ancestors were here almost five hundred years ago. Doesn't that make me a Native American? Yes, his ancestors came to this continent some seven thousand years ago. So what's the difference? Well, a matter of a few thousand years, it seems. It's this attitude that's causing most of the problems between Israel and the rest of the Middle East. Israel didn't remain an identity throughout history. It was shoved down the throats of the countries of the Middle East at the end of WWII. There might still have been strife if this hadn't happened. But it wouldn't have occurred on the scale and with the intensity it does today and since the new Israel was formed. The new Israelis are not "native" to the region. And the warring to remove them is the most extreme form of discrimination.
The problem with that word, discrimination, and its use today is that it has taken on a primarily negative connotation. As a result most people understand and use it almost exclusively in racial and ethnic issues. Yet discrimination use to be used to mean the ability to discern and choose. A person of discrimination at one time meant a person of good judgment as well as someone who could keep confidences. A discriminating person used to mean someone who made good choices or had good taste as well. To be discriminating used to be complimentary.
What most of us don't realize is that we discriminate countless times throughout the day everyday. To discriminate means to discern differences and to make choices based on one's attitude toward those differences. My wife and I like peas so . My wife likes beets and we buy them for her. This is type of discrimination--choosing between things based on values, likes, dislikes, or emotional response. We discriminate when choosing anything in actuality.
We discriminate in making friends. We may choose to associate with someone because his interests are similar to ours or his personality is one we respond to positively. We like someone's hair, smile, mannerisms, or way of dressing or speaking. We choose the streets we drive for any number of reasons just as we choose where we live, where we shop, where we eat, where we take vacations, and how we travel. We choose throughout the day everyday, and that is discrimination in action.
So, what's the point of all of this? I guess it's about venting my frustration with having been blindly and ignorantly discriminated against due to the narrowness of someone else's ethnic identification. But, it's only my due I suppose. After all, I am a member of the white race which did, and still does, discriminate against every race of any other color. And I've simply been given a taste of what they go through everyday.
Walk in Peace and Love.
Friday, January 9, 2009
Tale of a Cottontail
All creatures are beautiful, but the cottontail is especially so. It is so small and apparently fragile, but can outrun every dog in the country. They are tricky too, except when they get very frightened. Then they seem to lose their wits. Sort of like humans it seems. I met a cottontail a few days ago. It was on my 20-Minute-Mile walk.
The day was crisp and clear and the sun shone almost directly into my eyes. I hadn't taken my sun glasses along, so I was walking along the street, head down, thinking about how my back hurts, my feet ache, the asthma that's stealing my breath, and this little brown critter with long ears bounded across the street and disappeared into a weedy abandoned yard on my right. I still have it's image caught in mid jump--hind legs stretched out behind, front legs stretched forward as far as possible, its body about eight inches above the ground, ears partly erect, black fringes on its grayish brown sides, white tips on all four feet and along the belly and insides of the back legs as well as under the flag-like tail. It was there so quickly and disappearing just as quickly into the weed in two more bounds. But I knew from the look in its eye that it was more than simply aware of me. It seemed to know me, seemed to know more about me than I can express. Its eye was very very knowing, and the look of it is still there frozen in the stop-frame of my memory, the cottontail suspended mid-air, eye looking at me aware and knowing. Then the two bounds when it comes down and disappears into the weeds. The thing about that eye is that it left me aware of the cottontail.
I went on, smiling to myself, knowing that I had a friend to look forward to on my 20-Minute Mile. I had someone to commune with, to look forward to greeting each morning. And I was warmed to the core. I told my girlfriend about the cottontail when we met for coffee. I walk to a local eatery and reward myself with a cup of coffee and a fried confection called a crispito. It's a rolled flour tortilla with a cheesy filling and meat inside. Fresh from the deep fryer, they're delicious although a pale imitation of a Mexican invention called a flauta. I just mentioned to Linda that I'd seen a rabbit who was eking out a a life inside the town's limits despite the roaming dogs and cats. I admired it's spunk and it's freedom of choice. It could have been living in the wild, but had chosen proximity to humans for some reason and seemed very fit and healthy. I thought of it as a fringe critter, something I admire. I've lived on the fringe of society for many years now, by choice too, just as with the cottontail. And I was looking forward to meeting this independent spirit frequently in my future walks.
A couple of days ago, I was doing my 20-Minute-Mile meditation--thinking while walking--which makes it hard for me to walk. I noticed that a neighbor didn't have his rotweiler chained up in his backyard and that the wooden box meant for a shelter was gone. I hoped the dog hadn't been abandoned along a road somewhere in order to get rid of it. Or, worse, that it hadn't been shot. Both are common ways people choose to rid themselves of the responsibility when they reach the end of their patience with their canines and felines. I was walking along pondering why people do such things to animals and how things might change were we allowed to do the same to such people when we lose patience with them when I noticed a patch of fur in the middl of the lane on the other side of the street ahead. A sense of dread took me. I knew when I saw it. It was the cottontail. It had been hit by a car in a 25-mile-an-hour zone.
I don't think one can run over a rabbit at that speed. I think it's completely impossible. I let out a cry of grief and went to remove it from the street. I hurt. A lot. I put its body on the grass on the verge and went on about my walk. I could have put the cottontail into a nearby garbage can, but I couldn't bring myself to betray its diginity so vulgarly. Instead, I put it where it could return to Mother Nature and continued walking and crying for the soul that had touched my life so briefly, but which had affected me so profoundly. I wept, truly, and was still weeping a couple of blocks later when I looked up at the sky. It was the most beautiful cirulean blue I can remember. From the southeast white, high, thin clouds were drifting in. From the northeast, three contrails as white as the clouds trisected the sky before me in almost perfect symmetry, the leading one disappearing into the clouds as though leading the eye into them. The scene was so beautiful that my painful weeping almost instantly became weeping in wonderment and joy at the beauty I'd been blessed with, been allowed to see. And there came to me almost instantly the realization of how priviliged I was.
I'd been shown death and creation in a matter of moments. I'd seen beauty in both, felt pain and joy in a matter of minutes. I'd truly been favored. And I am thankful.
The day was crisp and clear and the sun shone almost directly into my eyes. I hadn't taken my sun glasses along, so I was walking along the street, head down, thinking about how my back hurts, my feet ache, the asthma that's stealing my breath, and this little brown critter with long ears bounded across the street and disappeared into a weedy abandoned yard on my right. I still have it's image caught in mid jump--hind legs stretched out behind, front legs stretched forward as far as possible, its body about eight inches above the ground, ears partly erect, black fringes on its grayish brown sides, white tips on all four feet and along the belly and insides of the back legs as well as under the flag-like tail. It was there so quickly and disappearing just as quickly into the weed in two more bounds. But I knew from the look in its eye that it was more than simply aware of me. It seemed to know me, seemed to know more about me than I can express. Its eye was very very knowing, and the look of it is still there frozen in the stop-frame of my memory, the cottontail suspended mid-air, eye looking at me aware and knowing. Then the two bounds when it comes down and disappears into the weeds. The thing about that eye is that it left me aware of the cottontail.
I went on, smiling to myself, knowing that I had a friend to look forward to on my 20-Minute Mile. I had someone to commune with, to look forward to greeting each morning. And I was warmed to the core. I told my girlfriend about the cottontail when we met for coffee. I walk to a local eatery and reward myself with a cup of coffee and a fried confection called a crispito. It's a rolled flour tortilla with a cheesy filling and meat inside. Fresh from the deep fryer, they're delicious although a pale imitation of a Mexican invention called a flauta. I just mentioned to Linda that I'd seen a rabbit who was eking out a a life inside the town's limits despite the roaming dogs and cats. I admired it's spunk and it's freedom of choice. It could have been living in the wild, but had chosen proximity to humans for some reason and seemed very fit and healthy. I thought of it as a fringe critter, something I admire. I've lived on the fringe of society for many years now, by choice too, just as with the cottontail. And I was looking forward to meeting this independent spirit frequently in my future walks.
A couple of days ago, I was doing my 20-Minute-Mile meditation--thinking while walking--which makes it hard for me to walk. I noticed that a neighbor didn't have his rotweiler chained up in his backyard and that the wooden box meant for a shelter was gone. I hoped the dog hadn't been abandoned along a road somewhere in order to get rid of it. Or, worse, that it hadn't been shot. Both are common ways people choose to rid themselves of the responsibility when they reach the end of their patience with their canines and felines. I was walking along pondering why people do such things to animals and how things might change were we allowed to do the same to such people when we lose patience with them when I noticed a patch of fur in the middl of the lane on the other side of the street ahead. A sense of dread took me. I knew when I saw it. It was the cottontail. It had been hit by a car in a 25-mile-an-hour zone.
I don't think one can run over a rabbit at that speed. I think it's completely impossible. I let out a cry of grief and went to remove it from the street. I hurt. A lot. I put its body on the grass on the verge and went on about my walk. I could have put the cottontail into a nearby garbage can, but I couldn't bring myself to betray its diginity so vulgarly. Instead, I put it where it could return to Mother Nature and continued walking and crying for the soul that had touched my life so briefly, but which had affected me so profoundly. I wept, truly, and was still weeping a couple of blocks later when I looked up at the sky. It was the most beautiful cirulean blue I can remember. From the southeast white, high, thin clouds were drifting in. From the northeast, three contrails as white as the clouds trisected the sky before me in almost perfect symmetry, the leading one disappearing into the clouds as though leading the eye into them. The scene was so beautiful that my painful weeping almost instantly became weeping in wonderment and joy at the beauty I'd been blessed with, been allowed to see. And there came to me almost instantly the realization of how priviliged I was.
I'd been shown death and creation in a matter of moments. I'd seen beauty in both, felt pain and joy in a matter of minutes. I'd truly been favored. And I am thankful.
Wednesday, January 7, 2009
Another Day
Walking and blogging are pretty much the same in the respect that you know you have to do each of them, but you don't really have the energy or desire to go out in all kinds of less-than-perfect weather to walk, and you all to often find that you have nothing of serious import to blog about. I don't like putting words down that don't have some intent to moving a reader in a direction that may be beneficial for growth. Because of that I haven't blogged for a few days. The think tank has all of these ideas floating around bumping up against one another in there and the weather hasn't been all that conducive to my 20-minute-mile walk either. So I missed a day here and there of walking just as I missed a few days of blogging. The body told me about my avoidance this morning when I finally did set out afoot and now the mind is complaining about having to come up with something original and, hopefully, interesting. Probably the only thing I might be consistent at is breathing, and even that gets interrupted by my apnea if I fall asleep without my CPAP mask on. So, I guess the real reason I haven't walked or blogged with regularity is that, if anything, I'm consistently inconsistent.
I like that idea. Consistently inconsistent. It's an oxymoron if I ever saw one. And, as with most oxymorons, it makes sense except when considering its individual parts. I'm only consistent in my being inconsistent. Now that makes me think.
I like to think. I think that I'm a thinker. Am I therefore a thinker? I can't say. I only know that I ideas of all kinds intrigue me. I remember as a kid imagining that I had a miniature walkie talkie, the military portable radio of the Second World War and the Korean conflict. My walkie talkie was a simple little razor-blade container that I'd poked a wire into as an antenna. I talked to other make-believe troops and I fought uncountable military actions around and through the neighborhood as well as in the back yard. I always dreamed of one day being able to carry one of them around with me, thinking how "neat" it would be to be able to talk with someone else via something so small and portable. That was in the early Fifties when transistors were just coming into use. Now, I carry a portable phone and rue the day that the invention hit the market. It gave too many people justification to be rude anywhere and everywhere they wish. It also seems to have usurped the importance of in-person conversations since anytime a cell phone sounds during a conversation, its owner will immediately cut off the in-person conversation to sit with the phone to his or her ear and carry on a long dialogue there. This is the time when I'm tempted to get up and leave.
However, it does make me think about how much our courtesy to one another suffers due to the development and acceptance of new technology. It also makes me think of how many have benefitted from it. I have heart disease brought on by my own ignorance and stupidity, not to mention sloth. I also have high blood pressure. I feel a bit more comforted carrying the cell phone with me. I think that if and when I suffer a heart attack, I just might be alone, but also might be able to call for help via the cell phone. Then I'll just have to hope that help arrives in time to keep me from having my time card punched "Out."
Well, I know that we all have to leave one day. And I guess this is as good a point to leave this blog as any. Thanks for reading it.
Walk in Love and Peace.
I like that idea. Consistently inconsistent. It's an oxymoron if I ever saw one. And, as with most oxymorons, it makes sense except when considering its individual parts. I'm only consistent in my being inconsistent. Now that makes me think.
I like to think. I think that I'm a thinker. Am I therefore a thinker? I can't say. I only know that I ideas of all kinds intrigue me. I remember as a kid imagining that I had a miniature walkie talkie, the military portable radio of the Second World War and the Korean conflict. My walkie talkie was a simple little razor-blade container that I'd poked a wire into as an antenna. I talked to other make-believe troops and I fought uncountable military actions around and through the neighborhood as well as in the back yard. I always dreamed of one day being able to carry one of them around with me, thinking how "neat" it would be to be able to talk with someone else via something so small and portable. That was in the early Fifties when transistors were just coming into use. Now, I carry a portable phone and rue the day that the invention hit the market. It gave too many people justification to be rude anywhere and everywhere they wish. It also seems to have usurped the importance of in-person conversations since anytime a cell phone sounds during a conversation, its owner will immediately cut off the in-person conversation to sit with the phone to his or her ear and carry on a long dialogue there. This is the time when I'm tempted to get up and leave.
However, it does make me think about how much our courtesy to one another suffers due to the development and acceptance of new technology. It also makes me think of how many have benefitted from it. I have heart disease brought on by my own ignorance and stupidity, not to mention sloth. I also have high blood pressure. I feel a bit more comforted carrying the cell phone with me. I think that if and when I suffer a heart attack, I just might be alone, but also might be able to call for help via the cell phone. Then I'll just have to hope that help arrives in time to keep me from having my time card punched "Out."
Well, I know that we all have to leave one day. And I guess this is as good a point to leave this blog as any. Thanks for reading it.
Walk in Love and Peace.
Thursday, January 1, 2009
Why I'm Blogging Again
I've tried blogging a number of times, but haven't been able to continue it due to computers continually fouling up on me. I'm hoping that this time I'll be able to stay with it because I have a need to talk about things that I alone seem to understand. I may be that so few of understand what I'm perceiving that I just don't have contact with them, or you, as the case may be. The name for this blog came about while I was doing my daily walk which started recently. I'm walking eight tenths of a mile everyday. To be accurate, I try to everyday. Some days though.... But, while walking I realized one of the benefits of walking was being able to think quietly. And, since my time for walking a mile is approximately 25 minutes, I've set a goal of twenty minutes walking to complete it. If and when I achieve that goal, I'll shorten it a couple of minutes just to raise my metabolism to help me loose weight. I weighed 319 pounds 10 months ago and have weighed at least 300 pounds for the last two years. At 66, if I don't get my weight off, I may not be around much longer. I won't anyway, but I want to stay as long as I need to, and I feel that I have some things yet to accomplish. Today is January 1, 2009. Yesterday, the last day of 2008, I weighed 299 pounds--the first time I've weighed less than 300 in over two years. Ergo the walking and the blog. What a way to start a new year!
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