Sunday, July 19, 2015

What's your gift?

Not just your talent, but what's your gift to the world? Do you have one? Should you?

Here's my take on the after-life. We all have one. (Of course, I don't know that.) I think heaven or hell is going to be our memories.

How did we live? What did we do? Did we die rich, fat and happy? Huge bank account? Reputation as a shrewd businessperson? Big winners at the game of life?

<shaking head> I don't know about you but I wouldn't want to be thinking about that for eternity. I'd want to be thinking about what I gave.

For me, part of my gift to the world is writing. I have a free novel, lots of free short stories on my website. I help other writers whenever I can. And it's not just that my writing is free. People might not like my writing. They might think it's lousy. No one might even read it. But none of that matters—it's the intention of the gift that counts. And I do intend my writing to be a gift. A gift to encourage and bless as well as entertain.

But it's not only about writing. Just the simple human kindnesses I've shown people are precious memories for me. Any of the times I've really helped someone in need.

It's funny. Maybe you've seen these magazine subscriptions that are very inexpensive. Most magazines don't need you to subscribe to make money. The ads they carry are already doing that. But if you subscribe, you will be one more in their circulation, which allows them to charge more for advertising, so they offer a year's subscription for ten bucks or so.

On a lark, I signed up for Forbes magazine. Forbes is all about business and specifically about getting rich in business. Seems every issue is about billionaires and how to be one yourself. Most of the billionaires featured don't do much for me, but there was a bio of one guy that  touched me so much I cut it out from the magazine. The guy was big into charity and he said that his ultimate goal was to "die with a net worth of zero."

That inspired me more than all the others—who just cared about racking up more and more cash—combined.

I'm a pretty selfish person. I'm no hero. It's hard for me to give. I feel like I don't have a lot so why should I be giving. But that said, the times I have given are the very best memories I have.

Thursday, July 16, 2015

Is there such a thing as a mistake?

And what's the opposite of a mistake? How come we don't have a term for it?

Who decides if something is a mistake?

When is the decision made?

When is the decision final?

A mistake is the vaguest of concepts. And yet it can be crippling emotionally if taken to the extreme.

"I made a mistake." Even "I am a mistake."

The fact of the matter is people make the best decisions they can, they take the best actions they can. No one ever thinks, "This decision/action is a mistake."

No, it's only in hindsight that the mistake label is slapped on. And even then it's not terribly reflective of reality.

Back to "I made a mistake."

It simply is not that cut and dried.

You made a mistake forever? Couldn't your "mistake's" consequences change over time?

Aren't there multiple categories and viewpoints to be considered? You made a mistake when your business lost out on an investment. So okay, it's a mistake for your business' bottom line. But that investment loss allowed you to spend more time with your family, so it's clearly not a mistake in that sense.

Mistakes are bogeymans, nothing more. People do the best they can at the time and how things play out are multitudinous. "Mistake" is just too simple, too easy and very inaccurate.

Wednesday, July 15, 2015

Are "good" and "bad" meaningless concepts?

A friend of mine one day discovered a lump in his abdomen. Over time the lump grew. This was bad, my friend thought. Fearing cancer, he went to the doctor. After all the tests had been run, it was determined that the lump was a hernia. This was good (compared to cancer anyway). But also the tests revealed that my friend had the very beginnings of bladder cancer. This was bad. But the cancer was caught so early it was easily cured. This was good.

If my friend hadn't had the lump (bad), he would've never discovered he had bladder cancer and he would have died (bad). So maybe him having the lump was not so bad, after all. Maybe, dare we say, it was good?

That's the catch. Labeling things "good" and "bad" is pointless because we never know if what we're calling bad might ultimately be good for us and vice versa.

I was a heavy cigarette smoker. When I quit many years ago I knew that even though I'd quit, there was still a substantial risk that I'd get lung cancer. So I was reading the newspaper one day and there was an article about how consuming beta carotene (an organic compound found abundantly in carrots) greatly reduced the risk of getting lung cancer in former smokers.

So every day for one solid year I ate carrots, which I really don't like, but hey, it was good for me.

Then one day I was reading the newspaper and there was an article about how consuming beta carotene increased former smokers risk of getting lung cancer.


Well, now that was quite a surprise to this carrot gobbling guy. But there it is again. What I thought was good was acutally bad.

All this isn't to say that life is arbitrary and the choices we make make no difference. But it is to say that the judging we do (assigning things as good or bad) is exceptionally unreliable.

Personally, I think life is much better when we avoid judging things altogether. By all means be aware as best you can of what your options are, make your best decision. But leave off the good and bad designations. And leave them off events and things, as well. You don't know what might be good or bad for you. What you thought was the worst thing might in hindsight be the best. Life flows more peacefully without all the judgments. Something happened. Well, something happened. Just leave it at that. It will be a more accurate representation of reality, and it will save you the ups and downs of calling it good or bad.

Saturday, July 11, 2015

Is spirituality real?

I'm listening to a series of lectures on cds. They're all about skepticism (in a scientific sense). It's all about debunking spiritual "myths," conspiracy theories, clairvoyance and prophetic dreams. That sort of thing. It's fascinating really. The speaker gets into the difference between gender beliefs, social class, intelligence and how they influence what we believe. In a short form he says a skeptic is from Missouri, aka the "show me" state. A skeptic, he says, will believe anything as long as he is shown rational proof of its existence.

It's all very appealing. As I continued to listen I thought, "Yeah, that's me. I don't fall for all the spiritual hype out there." And really who would?

But is that the truth? Is spirituality a hoax? Is it simply explained by statistical analysis? (The author gets into prophetic dreams. How there are so many dreams that we dream that simple statistical chance explains many of them being prophetic.)

Well, don't get me wrong—I am a rationalist. I think reason is a necessary (and excellent) tool for living. But I also believe in spirituality.


Because of my experience. I believe every once in a while (and maybe it's all the time and I'm just not able to perceive it on a regular basis) God anoints my life, directs it so it flows with a grace and effectiveness that tremendously exceeds my natural ability. It's amazing really and the times I'm aware of it I'm so very grateful for it.

A brief example. I am a lousy golfer. But I love this little 9-hole golf course by my apartment called Falling Squirrel. Well, alas, corporate development swallowed up Falling Squirrel and it just closed not even a week ago.

A good friend and I had made plans to play the last day it was open. But the weather was turbulent, the clouds coal-black and a mass of rain was on the radar screen heading right for Falling Squirrel. It was such a shame that we wouldn't be able to play the course one last time (and say goodbye).

Well, it rained for only about ten minutes and then the sun came out! (On the radar the mass of rain that was headed our way just kept disappearing as it got near!) We were able to play the course.

When we got there, the course superintendent warned that the mosquitoes were bad. My friend and I discussed getting a cart (we usually walk) and the course superintendent said, "Hey, it's the last day. The cart's on me."

So off we drove and we had so much fun playing the course. And I (remember I am a lousy golfer) was playing with nearly supernatural skill. (I birdied the second to last hole and parred the very last—and very difficult—hole.)

As we stood on the last hole finishing up (the black clouds were encroaching), the first rain drop hit the bill of my hat. We hustled to my car and a deluge ensued.

The timing. The friendship. The weather. The new-found skill. Everything came together to make for a remarkable good time and for a satisfying goodbye to the course we both loved so much.

Could such good fortune be explained by statistical odds? Maybe. A meteorological quirk, fronts colliding? Yeah, it could. Could the improvement in my golf game have come from the practicing I'd done? Yes.

But I'm telling you I knew in my bones that it was more than any of that. I could just feel it. Everything we did that day had the touch of the magical. Had the touch of God's grace. His anointing.

So, there you have it. Can I prove that spirituality is real? Absolutely not. I'm just grateful to have experienced it that day and look forward to experiencing it more and more.