LifeRevelation

Life is a Revelation…be encouraged

Archive for the category “accountability”

The Invisible Visible & the Inside Outside

http://eatbigfish.com/type/article/making-the-invisible-visible

We turn the invisible into the visible when we allow what we hold in, what we believe, what we think, what we have faith in, what we trust in, what we hold sacred and true to take action. We communicate our being by the life we make. Our source is us. The outside is the inside. To see outside we must look inside. Our voice and our vision is not created by our seeing and talking, but by thinking and praying. Depth is infinite, but the outward is from the inward. Looking at the reflection in the mirror is the fuel of our behavior. It is what drives us.

Let us not be measured by our quantity, but by our quality.

Be encouraged!

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Later One Night…A Long Time Ago

http://www.komonews.com/news/local/2-shot-in-early-morning-Tukwila-bar-fight-136262138.html

I looked at my watch, it was nearly 2:00 am. The bar would remain open for another hour and a half. The place was packed as was always the case for a Friday night. The bar was located near a large university in a city well known for it’s long association with the country music industry. This created quite a mix of different lifestyles for the patrons, ranging from college co-eds to music legends to the stragglers just prayin’ for a break. The kind of break the scraggly hair, unshaven for about a week, fat man sitting at the end of the bar had experienced. The fat man had written a song three minutes and thirty two seconds long, it had shot to number one, held that position for several weeks, and eventually had a movie produced from it. His financial life was changed forever. That fact alone explained the two big busted, leggy blondes, each wearing a dress that would barely cover a six year old, perched on each side of him. The kind that are attracted to the money, either for as long as it holds out or until new money comes along.

My friend Mikey and I weren’t interested in the rest of bar goers who were packed into the room like sardines, and smelling nearly as bad by this time of night. Our eyes were riveted on the flashing blue and red lights across the street. Mikey’s plan was unfolding perfectly, so far. The way he had it worked out his pager (before cell phones dominated the earth) should go off any moment now. Then he would get up and exit the bar area by the door going into the kitchen. He would step over, around, and in between couples in various stages of sexual acts until he reached the sound proof office of the owner of the bar, where he would be let in by one of the numerous bigger than life, bodyguards who toted large caliber firearms and did an excellent job of keeping the peace when a female co-ed found herself more enamored by the rock n’ roll skinny, lead guitar player in a touring band than the physics major that had brought her to the bar with the idea of having her consume just the right amount of alcohol in hopes of  whisking her back to his dorm room for some personal excitement before she or he passed out.

Mikey would use the office phone to return the call. Probably speaking to someone at  dispatch who would deliver the crushing news that his store had just been robbed of all the gold jewelry. He would then wait about 20 minutes before slipping out the back door to his waiting car. He would then drive around a couple of blocks, checking for anyone tailing him, before pulling up behind the squad car we were now watching. Mikey would then go into the throes of a business owner who could not believe his misfortune. Who could do such a thing? Especially after all his hard work. What kind of people are they? What is this world coming to? If Mikey was anything he was a great actor worthy of a Grammy award and all its accolades.

For a moment the scene faded back and my thoughts went ahead. What kind of life was this? Why aren’t there any old drug dealers? Would the women filling this room with perfume and sexual heat eventually becoming moms driving Toyota mini-vans around, filled with children, from school to soccer practice? Would they tell their husbands about the nights they went slumming with drummer of a punk rock band? Would the boys/men eventually sit on the boards of industry and make decisions about the direction of our economy? Would they be willing to marry women from this room or would they decide on someone who wasn’t so tainted, someone with not so much baggage? What would they tell their children about drugs, indiscriminate sexual coupling, and waking up in the the bushes by the business next door? Who would pull out of this morass and who wouldn’t? Who would die from an overdose, or alcohol poisoning? Who in this room would be forever damaged goods because of a relationship that went dreadfully wrong?

The pager went off…and Mikey went into  Act II of the evening.

More than 30 year later:

I never knew what happened to the woman I was with that night. The truth is, while I can recall the color of her hair and her long legs, I don’t remember anything else. Her name, the shape of her face, the sound of her voice all have been lost to the passage of many years.

Mikey on the other hand is a different story. He continued in the drug trade for several years and was eventually arrested after selling several ounces of cocaine to undercover DEA agents on multiple occasions. He posted bond, was released from jail and hired a defense attorney well versed in the ins and outs of plea bargaining drug charges. However, the mood of the country was beginning to change. The wild and loose era was becoming the straight and conservative era. Citizens were demanding steeper penalties for those who dealt death to their children. Mikey was looking at a couple of decades in a federal penitentiary. One morning he disappeared. They found his car along the interstate with the keys still in it. He has never been seen or heard from since. Seven years later his wife had him legally declared dead and collected one million dollars from his life insurance company. After twenty plus years she has never remarried and continues to live in the same home.

It took several years, but the questions I had that night sitting in the bar watching life pass me by, began to bear fruit. I stumbled from a shower one morning in a hotel room in downtown Columbia, Missouri with an entirely different approach to life. What exactly happened from the time I opened the shower door and stepped in until I sprawled on the bed bawling my eyes out some time later remains a mystery to me. I call it God’s grace.

All I know is those few minutes have altered my life forever.

It is not easy to write about the past. Like all of you, my past contains moments of intense pain. But I don’t write to relive the pain, or the excitement, or the so-called glory. I write to cast a light into the darkness. The light of hope. The light that says anyone can change. No one is beyond hope. It can happen anywhere, anytime, to anyone. I know…I’m living proof.

Be encouraged!

Perspective

http://likeadayoff.blogspot.com/2011/02/fork-in-road.html

In the distant past, Susie and I were having an argument. It was one of those adult relationship type of arguments, where you furiously disagree about something, and it reaches the point where you stop communicating.

We were on our way to see a play. Whatever we were squabbling about, each of us at the moment thought it was dreadfully important because we were in misery. For those of you who live alone in a cave (obviously with an internet connection), this occurs when you thoroughly despise the idea of hearing another utterance from the one you have chosen to spend the rest of your life with.

I had parked the car and we were walking toward the theater. Of course, we did not walk close to one another. In fact, we showed no indication at all we were madly in love with one another and would willingly, without hesitation, lie down on our lives for each other, if it ever came to that. At the time, each of us was completely assured of our own rightness, which in the universal adult relationship code means that we could not touch, nor look at one another as we walked, to do so would have signaled weakness, and that was not going to happen. We pondered how the other could so stupid and still figure out how to combine breathing  and the act of putting one foot in front of the other, at the same time. I’m sure as we made our way in the midst of streaming foot traffic, the air around us chilled a few degrees due to our icy indifference of one another. As couples walked by us, I am certain they secretly thought, “Please God, don’t let our relationship end up like those two.”

We continued to walk along in perfect venomous lockstep, when suddenly Susie stopped. This only focused my anger even more. In a nanosecond I was running through my mind various sarcastic questions I could shoot at her for this unexplainable moronic behavior. As I was lost in this train of thinking, I heard her say, “Look, we are at a fork in the road!” I tore my thoughts away from the flawless verbal comeback I had already decided upon and followed her gaze to this silver-colored fork lying in front of us on the sidewalk. We stood there for a moment like we had suddenly been touched in a game of freeze tag…then we looked at each other and burst into silly giggling, snorting, and overall cackling.  We laughed like two little kids…and then suddenly…everything that had gone on only seconds before was gone.

We collapsed into a full body embrace. In the middle of a busy sidewalk, in downtown Indianapolis, I held the love of my life as tight as I could. We kissed long and hard, grateful for the touch of one another’s lips. We walked the remaining blocks to the show arm in arm, with her head gently resting on my shoulder.

To this day, neither one of us remember what we were arguing about.

Take a moment and think about your angers, your worries, the elements of life that drive you to fear and/or frustration. We all have them. They are quite real. They cause us pain and stress. They rob us of the life we want. Many times they literally steal away years from us. They imprison us and hold us captive, just as real as any hand cuffs or leg shackles.

I don’t know why a simple fork in the middle of the sidewalk, in a busy city, would work such a miracle. Nor do I have the exact wisdom or knowledge to step you free of everything that holds you captive. But I did learn something that early evening so many years ago…whatever it was I was worried about then…and everything I’ve been worried about since…needs to be put in perspective.

Be encouraged!

Counting and Then Some

http://www.justaguything.com/5-things-that-actually-used-to-be-legal

In response to yesterday’s post  Counting, Diane at http://ranthegauntlet.wordpress.com/ wrote me a short comment expressing how much she enjoyed the content. Although her response was only two sentences long, it hit me like a well swung sledge-hammer right between the eyes…or more accurately straight to my heart. Her second sentence contained this thought…

 I want to be one who takes off the cuffs.

I haven’t though of much else throughout today. What a wonderful sentiment. Doesn’t that sum up what we want to do in life? Doesn’t it accurately portray the type of person we are striving to be?

Yes I want to be the person who takes off the cuffs, the shackles, the things that bind, the things that keep us from being free. I want to be the type of person who helps others unleash their full potential, find themselves, be free, live gloriously, set their hearts aflame, live in Truth, be peaceful, live in harmony, be fruitful, be excited, live long, flow with compassion, race with the wind, breathe slowly and deeply, touch the outer limits, live within, know yourself. taste life. fall in love…do you get the idea yet?

Isn’t that the type of person we all want to be?

So I’ve got this idea…and please keep the eye rolling to a minimum if at all possible…but I got this idea…what if sometime tomorrow…everyone who reads this post…does one compassionate act…it doesn’t have to be huge (unless you want it to be)…smile and wave at a child or an oldster, the person waiting in line with you, riding the bus with you, sitting in the car next to you at a red light…listen an extra minute when someone bitches about work…call your parents and say, “Hey nothing special, I just called to say I love you.”…call your kids and say the same thing. I really don’t care what it is, just do something nice, listen, speak softly and warmly, smile, encourage, inspire, let dead dogs lie.

Tomorrow take off somebody’s cuffs.

WARNING~WARNING~WARNING

Here is what we will be tempted to do…nothing. We will read this and think how wonderful it is and how we should do that…then the crap that fills our lives will rise up and tomorrow we’ll be busy…and other stuff will fill our mind and time…and we will do nothing.

Please don’t let that happen…we all know there are aching hurting people out there…it’s not lack of knowledge that keeps us from changing the world…it is willpower.

So tomorrow do it. 

Be encouraged!

This post is dedicated to Diane for her wonderful words which sent my mind whirling…thanks Diane…you will never know how deeply that short sentence has affected me. I will carry the sentiment the rest of my life.

This post is also dedicated to Lisa at http://agrippinglife.wordpress.com/. She not only has been a source of remarkable strength, intelligence, and…she will probably snort her coffee through her nose on this next one…wisdom, but she is also filled with grace and compassion which flows like cool mountain air over pine boughs…it is always there and it makes you feel better. Thanks Lisa.

Sort of Like Responsibility…Part V

http://www.steliasorthodoxchurch.org/

There are few things in life that split people as quickly as talking about religion. Everyone has an idea, a thought, and/or a conviction. And rare is the individual who will listen to views, other than their own, without certain walls going up. So what I am going to ask may border on the impossible…or at least in the very difficult zone. Yes this post is going to be about what I think about God. But is only my thoughts. I am not writing to sway anyone’s opinion. I’m writing this post with the same intention I have written the prior four posts on responsibility (there is only one more), to share what has happened in my life and to prove to others who have issues, situations, or circumstances in their life that there is hope. Real honest to God, life changing hope.

So, as I usually do, let me start with a story…

The year is 1998 and I have already made significant changes to my life. Although those changes started only four years earlier, I am a completely different person. Not that there weren’t matters that needed attention (and still do). But I was no longer spending every night in a bar, chasing every skirt who happened by, or indulging my considerable desire to steal everything that wasn’t locked down and stowed away. The drug use was history and I had quit drinking. Both were considered minor miracles by those who knew me, because I had been doing a gram of cocaine a day (no worry about pesky nasal hair) and drinking a case of beer and a bottle of cognac (nice mix, huh?) a day.

No coincidence, Susie and I had been married for four years as well. Her presence in  my life had opened the eyes that were blind, the ears that were shut, and the heart that was to hard to care. It was like being born again…literally. I was experiencing emotions I didn’t know existed. I would watch the McDonald’s commercial where the little ducklings followed their mother in the rain, and tears would roll down my cheeks. I could talk to people about Susie and choke up ( actually this one still happens). I suddenly found myself loving small children, something that had NEVER happened before.

Susie had introduced me to church, which I thought was about as strange as anything I had ever witnessed, and I had witnessed MANY strange things. I liked it, but it just felt weird. I had never attended church in my life and I was extremely uncomfortable. It was like a secret society. The people were nice enough, but they had there own way of talking. A language I was completely unsure of. It was English all right, but in the world I came from being “washed in the blood,” meant you were probably dead of a gun shot wound or had been bludgeoned to death. Even the individual words were used in a different context. “God” was no longer connected to damn it and “Jesus Christ” now referred to a person/deity as opposed to being an expression of surprise. I also noticed no one used the F word, this was extremely strange, and VERY difficult to get use to. Occasionally I would slip and I was aware this was not a good thing. Susie promised to help me.

In 1998 I met this man……I’m not quite sure why he is holding that sign, but just ignore it. His name is Fr. Stevan Bauman and he is without a doubt the greatest person I have ever met in my life, which is something he would definitely not acknowledge. Knowing him has changed my life from our very first encounter over lunch at a downtown Indianapolis restaurant. I came home and told Susie things were going to change. This was a fairly large statement considering the evidence I have just presented. Over the years Fr. Stevan and I have grown quite close. When I was baptized into the Eastern Orthodox Church he became my godfather. His presence has been like having my own flesh and blood incarnation of God, another statement he wouldn’t be able to disown fast enough.  He is kind and gentle, compassionate and loving, holy and pure, patient and humble. I don’t believe he knows what anger or frustration are.

So what is this post all about?…certainly not just a window into a side of me that I rarely talk about. Well yes and no…I do want you to know about this side of me, I think it will help you understand me and my writing better, but no I’m not trying to convert you or anything remotely like it. I’m not trying to convince you of the presence of God…or of the Truth of Creation.

So what is it?…it’s about being honest, being open, being vulnerable, being authentic, and being real. It is about telling the Truth. My journey through this life has been exciting and painful, thrilling and suicidal, adventurous and paranoid. At one time my living expenses were $33,000 a month and my income far exceeded my expenses. Other times I stood in front of a Coke machine and cried because I didn’t have enough money…and this was when they were only cost 35 cents. I have run across America and stood in front of thousands telling about it and I’ve slept in a dark alley next to a dumpster because I had nowhere else to go. I have known personal pain so severe I didn’t know if I could draw my next breath and happiness so complete I didn’t have words to express it.

I have been delivered…I have been set free…I am alive…and anyone and everyone can do it…no matter where you are at, or what you have done, or what has been done to you…so please…be encouraged!

Sort of Like Responsibility…PartIV

http://www.flickriver.com/photos/drmarciana/3216269473/

The double doors leading to the factory floor swung open to reveal a world I had no idea existed. I might as well have been transported with Scotty, Bones, Spock, Captain Kirk, and  the rest of the crew of the USS Enterprise to another dimension. This was another world…and nothing in the world I knew, had prepared me for this.

Let’s start with the smell, it nearly knocked you down. Think of WD-40 and 3in1 oil mixed together and then injected into nose via a fire hose. The smell wrapped around you like saran wrap and tore into your lungs like Leatherface from the Texas Chainsaw Massacre. Later I would learn how it permeates into your skin, so even after bathing with all kinds of girly soaps, and things of my wife that I can’t identify, you still smell exactly like the factory. I’m telling you my wife is a very special kind of woman to put up with that.

Then there was the noise, it was deafening. I’ve been next to tornadoes and this was louder. I have been in the front row of a Guns n’ Roses concert and this was louder. It was like having a blunt instrument pound away at the inside of your brain, right between the eyes.

As I stood there reeling from the total effect of this onslaught I realized the man leading me lips were moving. I yelled out as loud as I could, WHAT?”

He smiled and leaned closer to me, NEVER BEEN IN A FACTORY BEFORE, HUH?”

Well this man was obviously a genius. Surely I had completely camouflaged my shock. It must have been me staggering backwards when he opened the doors and him having to repeat himself four times before I answered him that blew my carefully formulated cover.

“YEAH SHERLOCK, FIRST TIME.”

He motioned for me to follow him. No problem there. I kept as close to him as a newborn kitten afraid of losing his mother. In fact, now that I think about it, that new born kitten analogy is an accurate portrayal of how I felt. Safe in his Mommy’s womb the newborn fur-ball is thrust into a world that is cold, hard, and completely different from anything the little guy has ever experienced. Nothing has prepared him for this; he has to find nourishment a whole different way, suddenly there is a lot more room, and he still can’t see anything…and that was EXACTLY how I felt. If I could have turned around and drove back home to Susie, crawled into bed beside her, and gone back to sleep my world would have been perfect. Except I couldn’t do any of that. We had lost our bookstore business and, although we weren’t destitute, we could certainly see it from where we were standing. Besides Susie and I hadn’t worked all our lives to lose everything, so I was willing to do whatever was necessary to keep us afloat.

But all of that didn’t keep me from being scared. I was shaking in my new steel toed boots.

It took me nearly six months to begin to grasp how things worked. Eventually I got use to the smell, the noise, and the dirty weld fumes that made you blow out black crud when you blew your nose. I got use to women cussing more than any sailor I ever talked with, but I never got accustomed to men showing me their iphone pictures of the women who, as they put it, were “pounding” vagina. However, after a while I did know who they were and I avoided them like the plague.

I quickly moved up the proverbial corporate ladder and off the factory floor, but I’ve never forgotten the men and woman who are still there. Still working in 110 degree heat in the summer and bone chilling cold in the winter. Still breathing in the fumes and still having the noise assault their senses daily. Still working, because they need the benefits and the pay is the best in this region.

Those men and women will be in my memory forever…I miss them…but not so much the guys with the iphones.

Be encouraged!

Sort of Like Responsibility…Part III

http://www.amazon.com/Love-Wife-Bumper-Sticker-Decal/dp/B001P1PCWY

Most of you who read this blog know that I am deeply in love with my wife, Susie, and she was/is a major contributor to all that is good in my life. Her love, patience, sweetness, and guidance has been the one constant over the eighteen plus years we have been married. While not every moment of those years has been perfect, the sole reason for them not being was/is me.

During the days of my youth and far too long into what I was calling adulthood, I was always drawn to the darker side of life. If there was so scum to rub in, I was there. Nearly everyone who knew me figured I would end up in prison for life or dead. It just seemed like the way I was headed. She literally saved my life.

Susie is a woman of phenomenal intellect, yet able to talk to any one regardless of their age or station in life. I’ve seen her totally enthralled in conversations with:

  • A five year old short-stop on our Grandson’s Little League team.
  • The Metropolitan Bishop of North America and Australia for the Bulgarian Orthodox Church.
  • The mail lady.
  • A homeless man on the streets of Monterey, California.
  • The lead singer of a death-metal band from Norway.
  • A lady in the nursing home who just wanted her to keep on singing.

She has the type of personality that is rarely flustered or confused and is never mean. Her basic being is happy, compassionate, and above all loving. Even back in the day, my friends would say, “Dude you better quit screwing (okay, actually they used another descriptive word for sexual coupling, but you get the idea) around and marry this one…especially before she realizes what a waste you are.”

She is also, a raging incredible cook, who can make a tasty meal out of nearly nothing. During our early leaner years, I would often look around the kitchen cabinets, pantry, refrigerator, under the bed, and in the glove box and find absolutely nothing…and I mean nothing…no crackers, no bags of chips with only those crunched up little tiny pieces stuck in the bottom corners that nobody ever throws away, no crusty peanut butter jar with the lid stuck tight, nothing, nada, not anything…the great food void.  She would come home and I would ask what we were going to have for dinner, her reply was always the same…”Oh, I don’t know, let me look and see what I can find.” Thirty minutes later she would yell for me to wash up, dinner was served, and it would be this fabulous collection great tasting food, to this day I have no idea how she did it.

During the eleven months and three days it took me to run across the United States, Susie took care of everything. She made contact with our host homes, lined up speaking engagements, coordinated meetings, kept the mileage and rotated each pair of running shoes, doctored my left foot, did the laundry, had the oil changed in our support vehicle, got me breakfast, lunch, and dinner plus multiple snacks each day, dealt with police officers, wrote our newsletter for family, friends, and supporters, gave me a massage at the end of every day, kept track of the total miles I ran, and did all of this without ever once breaking stride. She smiled, giggled and was supportive of my every whim, which I am ashamed to say were numerous.

Susie is the rock that holds her three sisters and their families together. Easter, Thanksgiving, and Christmas are all celebrated at our home, with Memorial Day, the Fourth of July, and Labor Day all being rotated. The general family consensus seems to be that everyone simply enjoys hanging out at the home Susie created. Family and friends often remark about how peaceful it is…and it is… because of her presence.

She possesses an incredible singing voice which she has used with our local Philharmonic Orchestra for the past seven years. She also plays banjo, guitar, piano, and I long ago gave up trying to get her out of any music store under an hour, because she has to “try” every instrument in the place. She reads and writes music, like the rest of glance through the USA Today…in other words, with ease. She can identify any song ever recorded dating back to the late 40’s.

She writes poetry and music, pursues photography with a passion, paints (oils and acrylics), writes computer code, runs, cycles, swims, is accomplished in all types of crafts, and lately believes she wants to try her hand at composing a rap song about our new start-up company. I have come home from my travels to find her:

  • Installing a new floor in our laundry room (a complete new floor, she had stripped it down to the stringers, or whatever those boards are called that the first layer of plywood gets nailed to).
  • Hanging new doors in our bedroom, guest bedroom, and one of the bathrooms.
  • Teaching our, then three year old, Grandson how to make guacamole.
  • Putting up new insulation in our book barn (large barn w/climate control that holds 70,000 volumes of books).
  • Creating a new garden.
  • Using a leaf blower to usher a 4 1/2 foot long black snake off the back porch.
  • Changing the oil on all our vehicles.
  • Splitting and stacking wood.
  • Bathing our 165 lbs. Husky.
  • Rearranging all the furniture in our living room (actually she has rearranged all the furniture in every room of our home several times).
  • And last, but certainly not least, I have come home to find a note on the dining room table (where we leave all our correspondence  for one other) that read, “Out for a 10 mile run…your dinner is in the frig…glad you’re home…I missed you…I love you…S.”

I married up.

I married WAY up.

Every good thought you have ever had, as a result of reading this blog, is directly related to her presence in my life.

This post is dedicated to her…thank you Honey…you are my everything. Amen.

Be encouraged!

Interesting Award

 

I was nominated for this award by http://loopyloo305.com and I can assure you I am completely unworthy of this honor. It means a lot to me to have those of you who read  this blog to nominate me for awards…although I know there are literally millions of bloggers out there who are more deserving.

Here are the rules:

1.  Each person tagged must post 11 things about themselves.
2.  They must also answer the 11 questions the “tagger” has set for them.
3.  They must create 11 more questions to ask bloggers they have decided to tag.
4.  They must then choose 11 bloggers and tag them in their post.
5.  These “lucky” bloggers must then be told.
6.  No tag backs.

I’ve never been all that good at following rules so I may alter them slightly, but my heart is still in the right place.

Here are the questions I am supposed to answer:

  1. If you met Paul before he became an apostle, would you tell him he was wrong? Probably notThis guy was a certifiable nut case, who had a penchant for imprisoning people at best and having them executed at worst…and I am not that brave.
  2. Could you forgive Hitler if he stood before you and asked? It is not my place to forgive him…I am not the one he wronged.
  3. If you knew what the future held, and your speaking would change it, would you still speak? Depends on what the future is…
  4. Which person, living now,  will have the greatest impact on the future of the world? I am in hopes it is some little kid, who is now running around the house playing with his/her toys who will grow up to be an unshakable pillar of faith, honesty, and love that others will rally around and change the world into a far better place. 
  5. Would you rather have a library with physical books or a device such as the kindle? As an ex-book shop owner I have a tendency to lean toward the physical books, but just knowing I can carry around literally thousands of books in my briefcase…I choose the Kindle.
  6. If you had to relocate, where would you rather go? Trail, Oregon, population 60 and one of the most peaceful, beautiful places on  earth. 
  7. If you had to have a disability, would you rather be blind or deaf? Deaf, because I need to see to read and I always want to be able to see my wife Susie…and besides she thinks I’m already deaf.
  8. Besides Jesus, who is your favorite person from the Bible? In Mark, chapter 9 beginning in verse 14, Jesus encounters a father whose son is demon possessed.  Jesus tells the father that all things are possible to them that believe and the father responds in verse 24, “I believe, help my unbelief.” Other than Jesus, that father is my favorite person in Scripture, because of his honesty. 
  9. Do you believe in the possibility of life on other planets? Some type of microbe life, yes…like us, no.
  10. What type of music do you like? St. Chrysostom’s Orthodox Doxology…trust me.
  11. Do you prefer the city or the country? I live in the country…and love every second of it. 

My questions for others:

  1. What was your first lie?
  2. Do you believe in “falling” in love or do you believe it is a conscious decision?
  3. What books are you reading…and why?
  4. Why did you start blogging?
  5. What words of wisdom would you like to pass along…now?
  6. If you learn from your mistakes, why do you hate to make mistakes?
  7. In seven words or less, what does happiness mean to you?
  8. Is the death penalty right or wrong?
  9. Do you believe in miracles?
  10. Who has influenced you the most?
  11. I am sooo tempted to ask, “Are you better off now than you were four years ago?” but I won’t..What is creativity to you?

Now here is a list of some very fine individuals I have learned to not only appreciate, but also trust my heart to:

http://yasniger.wordpress.com

http://willowdot21.wordpress.com

http://toddlohenry.com

http://armouredup.wordpress.com

http://cristimoise.wordpress.com

http://lindawillows.wordpress.com

http://onemoremorning.com

http://ariannasrandomthoughts.com

http://unfetteredbs.com

http://artyself.wordpress.com

http://toughmindedoptimism.wordpress.com

Thanks again to  http://loopyloo305.com for being gracious enough to nominate me for this award…and of course to all of you who take the time out of your lives to read my words…you are appreciated far more than I’ll ever be able to convince you.

Although it is rare we read this expression in the blog world I express it here with all of my heart and soul…

I LOVE YOU!

Be encouraged!

Virtue #13-Courage

courage.jpg

http://www.productiveflourishing.com/12-ways-to-practice-courage/

I haven’t written a new post in some time. I’ve reblogged several because I felt they were in line with how I think and I wanted to give them as wide an audience as possible. The truth is if I reblogged every post I feel deserves a wider audience I would spend my day hitting the reblog button. Suffice it to say, many of you are incredible writers, capable of moving us readers heart and soul with your written words. My hat is off to all of you.

But now it is time to write about something that close to me heart. Also it is something I have struggled with, in one form or another, for most of my life.

Recently I have had several conversations with a young person who is working through some major changes in her life. She is seeking to know her True-self and also deal with several facets of her life that do not reflect the person she would like to be. In my discussions with her the word courage frequently comes up. And, of course that has gotten me to think about what courage is.

Let me begin by saying I believe there are two types of Courage: There is False Courage which masquerades as the Real Thing, but isn’t, and I’ll show why a little later. Then there is True Courage , which allows us to have the confidence to face (notice I didn’t say overcome, that is for another post) all our fears.

Much of what I see today is False Courage. False Courage looks outward. It is always dependent on external circumstances. False Courage will say, ” There is strength in numbers.” or “My best friend (insert significant other, kids, cow-workers, family members, team mates, you get the idea) and I will get this done (or work on this, or face it, or produce it).”  or “If X happens then I can…” What happens is we shift the focus off of ourselves. The end result is we drift off into acceptance, addictions, fantasies, or we become experts at helping others be courageous.

See if any of these statements ring a bell:

  • The world is filled with idiots.
  • If only I had ______________.
  • He, She, They let me down…again.
  • Circumstances just didn’t line up for me.
  • I will fake it until I make it.
  • God I hope this doesn’t blow up in my face.

This is how we can look like we have Courage. We can throw it out there as a great defense, but it is a lie. It is a cheap imitation. It keeps us from being truly Strong, truly Better, and truly Ready For Whatever.

False Courage spends it’s web by convincing everyone else we have reached a harmonious state of togetherness. But when that carefully constructed bubble gets pierced by an event, or an incident, or a person that provokes our questions and/or fears, then our carefully constructed world falls apart. In essence we lose it. That is when the same old life sucking, soul destroying insecurities raise their little gnarly heads and we are back to mush. It is because we never had the Real Thing. We didn’t have True Courage.

True Courage is an entirely different beast. True Courage is a trust in ourselves and it’s focus is inward.

Look at these qualities and see how different they are:

  • We become inspired by openness.
  • We listen to and obey that still, small voice within us.
  • We are ready to go to stand strong…and accept the consequences.
  • Our faith is increased.
  • We will bend, but we are no longer willing to break.

True Courage gets foundational. By that I mean it penetrates into the roots of who you are. True Courage is, as they say, a game changer. It can alter your life and your world. You can go deeper, climb higher, and most importantly, be more you.

Susie and I live in a log home, up a lane from a road that is only 1 1/2 miles long. We have a few acres and our home sits on a hillside in the middle of those acres. We have a small wood stove in the kitchen/dining area and a large fireplace in the living room. We enjoy the added warmth of a wood fire, so throughout the cooler colder portions of the year we usually have a fire going in at least one of them. To start a fire we take a small piece of split wood and using a hatchet we hone off a few fine, curly shavings. Those little wispy pieces bare faint resemblance to the log we sawed up and split earlier in the season. We roll the shavings up into a loose ball and lay it on the fire grate, then we add several twigs, finishing it off with several small branches slightly larger than a couple of fingers. As we light the shavings, we blow ever so gently on their soft glow until a small flame erupts. Shortly the kindling ignites and we begin to place larger pieces of split wood on the grate until we have a roaring fire.

http://www.thechimneydoctors.com/

What you have at this moment is a few fine shavings with the fire starter applied. What I want you to do in the form of life-actions, is work gently with this kindling until a small flame erupts, Nurse and nourish that flame by adding the right size material until a roaring and consuming fire develops. Don’t add more than your fire is ready for. Too big of a log will extinguish the flame because there isn’t enough heat intensity to catch the lager piece a blaze. Take on more than your ready for and the fie burning within you will struggle. Be patient, let time work for you. Choose your battles and be wise, but always, always, always feed your fire.

Be encouraged!

The Astounding Ability to Quote

“The ability to quote is a serviceable substitute for wit.”

William Somerset Maugham (Writer, Novelist and Playwright, 1874-1965)

From http://quoteawiz.wordpress.com/about/

The above has been my guiding light for the past month or so, 
while I work on book and start-up company. I have also used the 
reblog button for a substitute for originality. Thank you for 
your patience and I hope you have enjoyed posts.

Be encouraged!

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