Category: energy

Re: Zen

In this essay, like all my other lateral thoughts , I don’t intend to define. The words I explore here cause me curiosity. I’ve heard the word zen used many times since I met my bride. She practises complementary medicine, so I get tuned in, and turned on, to alternative ways of treating my many neuroses.

Once I owned a backyard that offered an outdoor bathtub for cooling reflection. Now, I have a tiny garden that offers a path of stone that can be walked in four steps to a baby buddha stone elfin creature. You can tell from that last sentence that I’m not a religious person. While I may respect the teachings and philosophies of religious figures I pick and choose from the world’s spiritual menu in order to find my way. This current garden of mine brings me peace as I stare out my sliding glass door. There is room enough for one gravity chair on the patio. When lounging on it I can scan the horizontal ground-cover within seconds but then gazing vertically I revel in the limitless sky, imagining creatures in the clouds.

I love practising my version of zazen. Traditionalists will sit in a prescribed posture but I can’t pretend to conform to those higher standards. I might catch a moment of tranquility while pausing between the lines of a beautifully written poem. After reading the news in the morning paper, I may lay down the pages and contemplate what the headlines have done to my way of thinking. I’ve spent hours peering into the embers of a satisfying campfire. I’ve pushed a stick into the ground and watched its shadow move slowly as my planet orbits around the sun. Sitting by the sea shore in stillness tightens my awareness of wave and tidal regularity.

Rather than close down my senses, my perceptions blossom when I’m in a zen-like mode of experience. My breathing becomes a thrill to witness rather than an obligation for life maintenance. Windows open, doors lose their locks, boxes shed their packing tape bonds. My memory of past events flows like an unobstructed river. A fresh path is revealed making anything seem possible. Time loses meaning as I become present to the myriad mosaic of the moment. No need for pharmaceuticals to fuel this journey. The now is exhilarating and calming at the same instant.

In high school art class I created a sketch of a boy looking back over his shoulder as he sprinted along a winding path on his way to a horizon. I received attention enough from my teacher and peers that I recall wondering if it depicted my future. Now at 74, I wonder at the looking back/looking forward dichotomy of our existence. As humans invested in past/future pondering we lose the sublime bliss of the moment: that singularity when nothing really matters.

I’ve become acquainted with Japanese death poems thanks to Author and Zen practitioner Ruth Ozeki. Imagine taking your last precious breath while writing a song of hope for all who come after you!

Re: Genius

Jesus was not a one-off. He was extremely well promoted. There have been many who have such intense light of being that they shine brightly enough to spark a domino effect of creativity. I have seen evidence that we are all Jesus in waiting. Sometimes the moment comes early in life, and we are a genius for a brief while. Consider the phrase, ‘his candle burned brightly, then was gone.” We can also come to our full potential in our elder years, it’s only a matter of time.

Sometimes we are allowed to be genius, or encouraged to be, or bullied to be, or find ourselves in circumstances so perfect that we rise to our fullest potential. Some perform miracles, or inspire them. We all have the ability to be part of a creative process. During my teaching career I had a specialization in helping those students who were on either side of the bell curve (sometimes called the Gaussian Distribution). When Special Education services were mandated by the Ontario government, school boards found they could get more money from the province by identifying students outside of this normative distribution. No one wanted to designate a child’s deficiency. There was also controversy when ten percent of students were considered gifted.

I’ve witnessed genius in all my students, because I wished to see the child not the label. One student may do poorly on every written test but shine when asked to tell a story. Others excel when movement is involved. I recall one fellow with fondness for the way he started campfires without fail during outdoor education classes. Another still holds my memory because she could organize a group activity within a moment’s notice. The question of how to define a gifted student is problematic. I agree with current thinking along the lines of multiple intelligences and spectral recognition of fluidity during one’s lifetime.

Some creatives have spoken or written about channeling energy. They may say that the song just came to them or this book just ‘wrote itself’. Baseball players point to heaven when they make it to base after getting a hit. Entrepreneurs believe their genius comes from plain hard work. I have come up with what seems like a brilliant idea on occasion and merely thought I’d finally caught a break! Quite often it’s easier to recognize genius in others than it is in ourselves. I’m sure you have your favourite grade A geniuses: Mozart, Einstein, Gretzky, Klein, Pauling, Jobs, Jackson, Hawking, Dorsey, Leonardo, Mays, Gandhi, Musk, Curie etc.–– The field is wide open through the ages and in all disciplines.

Channeling a force and making it work for ourselves seems to be the key. Where this comes from remains a mystery. The phenomenon of genius can frighten us or enlighten us. It doesn’t necessarily come from our DNA giving us a bigger brain, faster reflexes, or knowing how to play the stock market. I believe there is truth to a common consciousness: We’re one big brain!

While we wait for inspiration, let’s decide to use our gift for good.

Re: Connect

Connection is often on my mind. It’s not the why of it all, but the how behind things aligning to make bonds work. Folks can be dismissive about this subject by suggesting clichés like; ‘The family that stays together…’ or ‘Birds of a feather…’. As I search for a deeper meaning of what it means to be human I’m conflicted by two urges: I know myself and am confident in my abilities, yet I appreciate the gifts that others bring to my life.

Our world values connecting with like-minded individuals. Hiring practises favour common consensus on priorities, personalities, and protocol. In politics this is key to passing legislation without huge amounts of time on debate. In government and business the bottom line is efficiency. In such a world loyalty is highly valued. Unfortunately this single track connection leaves many watching as the train of opportunity passes them by.

More equitable connections come when we look to diversity as a priority to strengthen our understanding. Those we hire or befriend don’t have to wear the same uniform. If we can reflect on the views, without fear, we may learn something new to guide our own journey. If every committee is a bunch of old white men, then we can’t expect healthy change to drive the human experience and ignorance will continue to control the agenda. Canada is tendering contracts to Germany and South Korea to build us a new fleet of submarines. WWII has long past but old notions of German engineering (good and bad) have appeared in comments from the public. And South Korea is, well, the southern part of Korea, whose neighbour to the north is controversial. In my home province of British Columbia the government is debating whether to consider a bid from China to build our ferries as we move away from reliance on all manner of things from the cursed dis-united states of amurca.

Prejudice impacts our connections. From a very early age we learn to choose who we associate with. There have been times when I would have wished to choose my family. In my own life I have felt the sting of being the last to be selected for an opportunity. Some of these hurts have disabled me from actively seeking connection, yet I still wish to belong to something greater. As I get older I am getting a sense of larger connections (sometimes mystical) that I am wishing to understand.

For example, I wonder about mysterious cosmic connections (my mind having spun over recent revelations from the film Disclosure Day). One afternoon I was in a large crowd and drawn to watch a young mother with her two children. There was a hint of recognition (visual, not sexual, electrifying, magnetic) but the energy of the moment passed. Later the three played together in another part of the park where I had been sitting. Much later they passed by me giggling. I reeled from imaginary thoughts. Did I connect with a soul in that group? Is this what it is like after death? Oh, my spirit!

Re: Help

In the television series Abbot Elementary we are confronted with scenes of children streaming into a primary-school classroom full of energy for learning. The creators of this excellent show are also helping the viewer to understand maybe he/she/they didn’t learn all the lessons to be discovered when they were young. After the first season I realized I was being taught; that help comes in different packages, you can’t judge a book by its cover, and yes, you can teach old dogs new tricks.

Helpfulness is a wondrous value that can be taught, just ask any Kindergarten teacher. It starts with filtering our language so that helpful comments emerge rather than sarcasm. We grow as we extend helping hands to those in need. We can be curious in new situations rather than jumping to conclusions, then saying something discourteous. We don’t need to gain superiority by putdowns: It’s better to Boost than Boast. Anyone who has felt helpless (and that must be all of us at one time or another), knows how great it feels to be given assistance.

I believe that when you ask, you shall receive. I’m not bent in a religious manner, yet I understand the power behind prayer, even though I wouldn’t call a request for help a prayer, but you may think differently after I tell you the story of the lost glove. This particular glove had personal meaning, so when it went missing during a shopping trip with my wife, a search was initiated. The parking lot was scanned, the interior of our car searched, then my wife went back to the store to see what help might be found. As I stood leaning against the back of the car, I relaxed into wishful thinking. I honestly asked the forces-that-be to direct my thoughts and my senses. My eyes fell upon some early crocus bursting through the edge of the pavement by the sidewalk nearby. As I celebrated the wonder of spring –– the glove! There it was, just lying inches away from that flower, yet far away from any transit my wife or I had taken, as though it had been purposefully placed as a gift.

‘How can I help?’ Is the best question I hear whenever I am out in the big wide world. It can diffuse a bad situation or help me find the right aisle when I’m wandering aimlessly around a mall. As a teacher I know the power of that question to release a student’s anxiety or suffering. I used to make parents laugh when I observed that if schools were factories we wouldn’t make widgets, but smiles: Smiles of joy found by learning in a safe environment. All Helping Professionals use skills of empathy to reconstruct souls damaged by life. The help provided may be quick like a band-aid, or the answer to a life-long personal conundrum. As individuals we have a similar natural talent to care for each other. 

To receive help, the first step is to ask for it. The gift will be there, waiting.

Re: Talk

When a boss says, “Let’s have a chat.”, you know there is trouble ahead. I would prefer a request like, “I’d like to talk something over with you.” The latter suggests a mutual desire to solve a problem. Too many times the person wanting to have a discussion has already mapped out the attack strategy so that you’ll eventually hear, “There’s nothing you can say that will change my mind.” The situation, talk-wise, has come to a dead end.

That seems to be where we are in the world right now: At a dead end. The UN is a global talk opportunity between nations. There are many words spoken at many meetings with many reams of paper, and many talking points are recorded during discussion after discussion. This is where the phrase, ‘talk is cheap’ comes to mind. As I review the records of politicians there seems to be only a few who actually walk their talk. One exception is Manitoba Premier Wab Kinew. Since taking office he has shown that election promises can be kept. If he were talked about within the pages of The New Yorker magazine I bet he would be in the profile called Talk of the Town.

Bonnie Raitt sings a great version of Shirley Eikhard’s song, ‘Let’s Give Them Something to Talk About’. It’s a catchy hit primarily about gossip, which is a somewhat seedy form of talk that gets people into trouble sometimes. I like being talked about in a way, because it makes me feel folks are thinking about me. But I wouldn’t want to be slandered or have people think I’m different from what I may pretend to be. When TEDtalks first became a thing, I fancied myself giving a lecture where everyone would take notes and discuss the finer points in a coffee shop afterwards. Then I had a dream imagining that very scenario with the audience talking while I was speaking and I woke with a sweat, and a radio voice in my head moaning “Talk, Talk, Talk, all you do is Talk!”

A debate is high level talking where ideas are proposed and a ‘Winner’ is chosen for their eloquence and astuteness while in the hot seat (or a hot podium). In a panel discussion I usually find myself nodding off after the opening remarks. Political debates are the same snore-fests. I know I’m supposed to be paying attention but I’m wishing all the time that if I just had a pamphlet I could figure it out for myself.

I wouldn’t call myself a talkative person. After a stimulant I might get excited enough to run-on. There was this time I met someone I admired and I rallied many coherent thoughts and blasted them in a non-stop fashion leaving me sort of breathless and sadly with nothing left to say. I’ll never forget the look on the face of the person who absorbed all that enthusiasm. I reminded myself later to be more careful with my words. That said; I love talking happy-talk.

Re: Bond

Bond is a four letter word like Love. Of course when I say this word out loud I want to continue: “Bond, James Bond.” Being a film lover, I have much respect for the longevity of the Bond franchise (25 movies all told, unless you count the 2 rebel outliers). I read recently that the Broccoli caretakers are on the search for the newest iteration of this iconic spy character. Good luck to the producers as they navigate the sticky issues of misogyny, political correctness, sexual diversity, and national identities.

Love of any sort starts with attraction, then association, and eventually an adhesion of sorts. When we make a vow or sign a contract we have joined ourselves to another. Those ties are binding until we find the original circumstances have changed in some way or another. We all have certain attractions to things, both natural and unnatural. We feel bonded to our pets, our family, our friends, and our possessions. Those bonds can often be hard to explain, difficult to maintain and tricky to break. Emotion, history and convenience are involved.

My dad used a paper glue that brushed on and had light adhesive properties for his artwork. I think it was called rubber cement and it was designed for artists who needed something to tack gently to another surface, then after the material was removed the glue could be rolled off by your fingertips. He also used a fixative in a spray can to set his pastel drawings. I learned that, metaphorically speaking, some things are meant to stay fastened while other things may be better thought of as a hasty-note.

In high school I remember saying to a prospective girlfriend, “I’m stuck on you.” I think that’s a lyric in a song by Lionel Richie. Anyway that relationship didn’t stick around, so to speak. Much later I concluded my best emotional bonds were cohesive rather than adhesive. The former is a fixation on someone of similar disposition; like minds as it were. The latter is more about the phenomenon of opposites that attract (another great song by Paula Abdul). My longest lasting bonds have been with people, women in particular, who share similar philosophies of life with me. Birds of a feather, if you catch my drift.

There is a contrariness here when thinking of magnetic attraction. North and South poles on two magnets are going to snap together when brought close to each other. I’ve been with others where sparks fly causing fusion of ideas in spite of lack of commonality. This is not a case of like-attracting-like. It’s a question of Game On! And I know some successful human bondings that are the result of a connection between two people who many would consider to be polar opposites. In those cases there is mystery at work. Maybe it’s a hidden bond that holds them up along with the friction, like a bracket-less shelf.

I am bound to freak out when the next James Bond is announced. Don’t ask me to explain it.

Re: Walk

In my time at University it was popular to hang posters with inspirational sayings. I remember seeing the one with a set of footprints in the sand describing how someone might walk with you in times of trouble. Another poster showed various pathways to talk about the road less travelled. Still another suggested the end result was not as important as the journey itself. Walking was central to many of these themes, and woe be the person who didn’t walk their talk, ideologically or in campus conversation. No one wants to be labelled a hypocrite!

There are many songs that depend on the word Walk to drive the message: Who among us has had boots made for walking, or been advised to just walk away like Renée. Maybe we’ve walked like an Egyptian after two many drinks or walked 500 miles just to be the one who falls down by your door. I’ve walked the line between good and evil, just to please the one I wanted to love me back. In the olden days if a boy walked you to the car or to your doorstep he was considered a keeper.

My 95 year old special mom sets a good example by going on a daily walk around the block. She takes seeds in a bag for any bird friends she finds along the way. As do other elders, she has a stable walker with handles suited to her height, a seat, and wheels she can brake so she doesn’t roll away when she chooses to sit and take a rest. I go with her sometimes but I find her slow pace a challenge to my balance. In a metaphorical sense I am taking a walk with her during this twilight part of her life. Watching her deal with the changes that come with aging is a privileged learning experience.

I’ve felt fortunate to have legs that can carry me to where I wish to go. Now in my eightieth decade I neither have the will nor the ability I once had to cover great distances. I have a friend who has mastered the famed Camino de Santiago trail. My son has tramped the beautiful West Coast Trail of Vancouver Island. My hikes have been much less impressive but I have enjoyed the ground I’ve covered. I have taken part in fund-raising walks and once, in late elementary school, I spent time training on a track in the manner of Olympic walking. I wasn’t fast enough to make the team but my hip-work impressed my weekend extra-curricular dancing instructor so much that he designed a special dance character for me. I was a cop-on-the-beat in a dance recital routine that had me walking around a Paris neighbourhood dressed Charlie Chaplin style: Rubber legged, bum waggling, and twirling my truncheon. The audience loved it!

Alas my 15 minutes of fame on that stage would not have propelled me to a career in show business or to be noted on Toronto’s Walk of Fame. But here I am talking about my walks.

Re: Balance

Riding a two wheel bicycle takes balance. The spinning wheels help you keep on your determined path by creating centripetal and centrifugal forces. This feeling of being in motion while creating the power of locomotion is exhilarating and never gets emotionally tiring even if your aging body gets physically zonked.

Many self help books provide guidance about life balance. Keeping your body active is on the list of must dos to reach that daily goal of mixing your life up enough for maximal fulfillment. The sugar laden cereals of my childhood pronounced similar advice on the box’s colourful sides. “Part of a balanced breakfast” was a common nutritional slogan that merged with “Prize inside!” All promises designed to create an illusion of a better you. Buy our product, use your willpower and add a healthy dose of good fortune. In this regard Lucky Charms was a well named cereal even if most of the nutrition came from the milk you sloshed into the bowl.

Everybody has an opinion about a proper work/life balance these days. In reality that goal is about as easy to achieve as getting plates spinning on sticks (current record 108) like performers used to do on the Ed Sullivan Show. Many entertaining acts from the big top days were all about balancing skills: Jugglers, trapeze artists, tightrope walkers and horseback riders all had to have a finely tuned and trained sense of balance. We don’t work in a circus, although we may wish to run away to one sometimes.

Checking my bank balance can make me dizzy, especially if the news of the day has set my mind spinning. I’ll start to worry over the future and the state of imbalance on our planet. The one percent and the poorer 99 percent statistics show clearly how we are a Have and Have-not World. Then I suppose our Earth has never been scaled to justice. To mix the metaphor, the great pendulum of human history always keeps swinging and by virtue of momentum never stays at the mid point of the arc long enough for the common working folk to take a healthy breath before we have to get our bearings set on the next big thing.

And don’t get me started on the notion of balanced reporting when those of evil intent define that to mean that the hate mongers of the world get equal time with the peacemakers. It is being irresponsible to equate freedom of speech to equality of divisive rhetoric. Three minutes of misinformation does not balance three minutes of scientific fact. I try to consider the messenger when a news item comes up. Journalists have an important job to do, without them we would be at the mercy of the most powerful.

There is no balance to be found in pain and pleasure, regardless of whether you opt into S&M role playing as a hobby. And you don’t need to experience hurt before joy has meaning. Looking for a balance in our world can be frustrating because few things are as simple as those moments when we find ourselves coasting without effort.  That’s finding your bliss!

Re: Food

Food is not a big part of my life. There is no denying it’s a necessity, fuel for the body and all that, but eating as an activity isn’t high on my priority list. Most people think I’m strange for not going all exclamatory over the taste of something scrumptious. For my part, I think it is crazy that so many folk take photos of their food.

Some women I have known have been flummoxed that the way to my heart has not been through my stomach. I won’t refuse a meal that is prepared for me. I will always complement the chef. However, inside I will most likely feel that a self made meal would have been just as satisfying. And by satisfying I don’t mean gustatorily splendid, just pleasing enough to fill the need for energy to carry into the next activity. Leftovers are my favourite food. Leftovers make me smile because then when I eat them I’m serving a function; using stuff up. I hate waste, so even though I truly don’t relish the idea of eating, at least by eating leftovers (refrigerator ‘must gos’) I’m helping the planet in my small way. My perfect meal is prepared (what’s that?), eaten and dishes cleaned up in under thirty minutes. Call me Chef Boyardee!

On the Foodie spectrum, I’m obviously a One, while a Ten would be someone who is always looking up recipes, watching the food channel and/or discussing the next meal while eating one. My 94 year old mother-in-law wants to teach me the proper way to cook. There is a new edition of The French Chef that she asked me to order from the library. I think she fancies herself to aspire to the Julia Child level of cookery. She’s a sweetheart for telling me that recipes are meant to be followed line by line. My bride loves to experiment with food. I have told her that watching her cook is like being in an artist’s studio witnessing the creation of something magical.

Chefs are celebrities nowadays, perhaps they have always been notorious. In magazines and television, food experts are on display. I can’t imagine being on one of those competitive cooking shows where you get chopped, diced, or filleted for not producing the food du jour correctly, on time or in an artistic format. The final plating is crucial as it must use the china as one might paint on canvas. Get any aspect wrong by Top Chef standards and you are chopped for sure. Bon Appétit!

In my next lifetime I’d love to come back as a plant. I could be a mighty Douglas fir or a spongy mass of green moss. Ferns are nice. I could be a gentle fern, all green and leafy swaying with my kin, in a gully, communing with a babbling brook. That’s peaceful! No hunting for my dinner. I’d like to let chlorophyll do the job for me by taking the sun’s energy and turning it into an insta-meal. I’m a lazy eater I guess. Burp.

Re: Confidence

Confidence is all about trust; in yourself, in others and in institutions. As social beings, trust is critical to our healthy existence. I think a great deal of the current emotional angst in the world is because we have lost confidence in what we thought was true. In fact truth itself has been under attack as one group or another has claimed they are the arbiters of truth. Tricksters in politics and business seem to be everywhere. Alternative truths (see: Lies) shatter confidence.

My mom used to like playing a version of the game of confidence. She would bait me into a conversation by asking me a question to which she already knew the answer. If it was about something I’d done she wouldn’t reveal she had inside information until I stammered out some nonsense story. It was a trap, and I fell for it for a long time. People get conned like this in phone and email scams. Why? Because we are generally trusting people and we have confidence that others will not harm us because, hey, we’re nice people.

On my best days I have an abundance of confidence. I feel capable even in potentially uncomfortable situations and I know my worth without being arrogant about it. When you see that in others it’s often referred to as charisma. When you feel it in yourself it’s close to being magical. Maria, in the film The Sound of Music, sings about this bursting urge to shine her light of confidence on everyone. This scene captures perfectly what I’m trying to say.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bFdtTwOrBWo

Having confidence in yourself and your belief system may make you naive but not ignorant. You don’t have to turn into a cynic because the rest of the world seems mean right now. I take care with whom I put my trust. Being older carries a certain amount of advantage when it comes to recognizing a charlatan when you meet one. Just the mere act of aging can be a real confidence builder. It seems to come as no surprise when we get congratulated so soundly for ‘making it’ into our seventies and eighties or nineties, even though we really haven’t done anything to merit the award.

I think of courage as different from confidence. The former is a spontaneous brave response that blocks out all danger. The latter suggests that you believe you can do something, even though you may feel fear at the same time. Confidence can be learned, bravery is quite simply miraculous.

Considering all the hurdles to jump in forming a relationship, I believe gaining someone’s confidence is the first step. When I think of how my love for my wife has grown I know it started with a trust that I could speak confidentially without fearing judgement. I had to see that she had as much confidence in me as I had in her. When someone believes in you, it can be such a boost to your confidence that anything possible can become a phenomenal reality.