An Undisturbed Life

In theory one is aware that the earth revolves, but in practice one does not perceive it, the ground upon which one treads seems not to move, and one can live undisturbed. So it is with Time in one's life. -- Marcel Proust

I have identified a terrific new word--and that word is--"undisturbed."

And what a great word--and what a great feeling--when you can feel this in your life.

Some clarification may be in order. Undisturbed is a state of being. It is a choice of what stimuli that you are going to choose to let into your life. You can be undisturbed and be listening to rock music. You can be watching the clouds roll by. Gardening. Cooking in the kitchen. Working on just about any old thing that makes you happy, as long as no “disturbing” elements are allowed to creep into your special place. The disturbing elements are what you choose them to be. At times to my wife it could be me. Probably more than I like to think that it is true but I am OK with that. To me it can be as simple a thing as our cat meowing needily at me or chipmunks digging in the flowers. Unnerving!

You have to find a way to make the noise stop ringing in your brain. Being mindfully mindless, so to speak.

No phone calls.
No demands to answer questions.
No knocks on the doors.
No places that you have to be.
No times that you have to honor either by being someplace or doing some specific task.
No guilt (if that is even possible).

We must come to a mutual agreement--a respect for others autonomy and joy--so we can all pursue the undisturbed state. Each of us travels a different path and experiences strange and wonderful sensations in order to evolve into the spirit we are to be. As Blaise Pascal said, even "Cold is agreeable, that we may get warm."

Do what you must to get warm.

The Little Things

"I long to accomplish a great and noble task, but it is my chief duty to accomplish small tasks as if they were great and noble."--Helen Keller

The above quote sent to me on Facebook by my sister, got me thinking about the little things, or as Ms. Keller referred to them as the “small tasks.” We’ve heard people tell us to “not sweat the small things” or “don’t let the little things get us down.” I’m not sure that these approaches are the proper tactics.

It seems to me that whenever I have tried to skip or speed through part of a job, and it is usually a small segment of the job, that is what I end up having to go back and fix (or disassemble). The same with life, the stuff that I didn’t pay that much attention to are the regrets that seem to pop up later and bite you in the keester. Like why I ever smoked cigarettes, or drove down dirt roads at night at 17 with my headlights off on my car.  Testing my immortality by daring God to smite me. Sorry Mom and Dad, you didn't know.

I would love to have my name in some history book, for some noble accomplishment that somehow bettered humanity. But I have my doubts if that will ever happen. Perhaps it will be a mention that I was a father or grandfather of some great person. I already believe that to be true, but it is yet to be printed. My children may beg to differ on my greatness. In fact, I would encourage them in that.

There are people who will probably remember how I made them laugh at some dull industry presentation that they surprisingly, or refreshingly, had me as the presenter. I can even find some humor in a Power Point of “manure management practices” and “dairy cow comfort” issues. Making people laugh can be a “great and noble” thing as well, if it remains in good taste.

Now I really try hard to carefully proceed in what I do. I think a lot more before I speak and act. Not cautious, but in a thoughtful way, taking things into consideration. Caring. Being more mindful like the Buddha.

I think that is what I enjoy about words, is the careful choosing of phrases and subjects to make a point or form a question. The best I can hope for, is that when someone reads my writing, it may make their thoughts wander a bit, down a favorite path of their minds choosing, and feel some joy for a moment…or longer.

Change...Or Be Scratched

Spring really has a tendency to send me a wake-up call. “What have you been doing all winter,’’ it yells as the temperature rises and the light in the sky seems so different. Brighter than even those snow-covered landscapes of just a few weeks ago.

It reminds me of how difficult it is to change from the recent past to my present existence, to transition from winter to spring. Adjusting the way I live and the types of activities that I enjoy is bothered by the change from fall to winter, but getting back into the swing of things is also hard when you say bye to winter. There are few constants that are able to be maintained in the different seasons. Work still is there. They continue to shovel the walks and drives of my office where I work and the roads to get there continue to be plowed. Sigh! I can still get in my runs with my wife but the places we run are just not as enjoyable. And they are slippery. And I even fall. But I’ve fallen even in nice weather.

The real problem for me is that I realize that it is the difficulty that change brings to life that is the true obstacle. Dean Ornish said, “People don’t resist change, they resist being changed.” So, I resist the fact that Mother Nature tries to change me. She makes me wear layers of clothes when shorts and a t-shirt are my style. She makes me give up wooded trails and warm streams because the frosty wench throws cold and snow and ice everywhere in Michigan. She makes me mope and read too much in the winter. It makes me ponder on little things and great mysteries. Food starts to be too much of a friend…Ahh, a best friend during dark winter days. Yes, dark are the days of winter.

And the tasks that have carried over from the fall, I had almost forgotten until I start looking around now that there is light after dinner outside. Weeds, tree branches, burlap on shrubs, tarps on things, lawn furniture in rafters, leaves against fences. I swear that this is a truthful list of the tools that I used this weekend alone: sledgehammer, shovel, rake, floor jack, screwdrivers, wrenches, sockets, wire cutters, leaf blower, wheel barrel, etc., etc., etc. I was just flat out lazy in the winter. It was like I was under the influence of a depressent drug prescribed by cold temperatures.

So I have thought up a mission statement for dealing with change. Here it is: “Life can change on a dime so I will always try to carry some spare coins in my pockets.” Those coins are going to be lots of things. They will include new ideas, old ideas that were good but not used, smiles and hugs, kind words, being a friend and better listener, and sunscreen to name a few. These attitudes will help me deal better with change so I don’t go through life learning my lessons like Mark Twain said: “The man who carries a cat by the tail learns something that can be learned in no other way.”

I’m tired of life’s scratches.

Sums

Live as if your were to die tomorrow.
Learn as if you were to live forever. -- Gandhi


Sum. The total of numbers added together. They could be our days. Sum is an exact figure.

Some. A quantity of items, things or thoughts. These could be our actions or deeds during the sum of our existance. Some can be a group of many or few, without an exact sum. A bit undefined.

The sum total of a man perhaps ends up as undefined as the word “some.” The many experiences that make our existence special and profound in its own unique way are difficult to measure. I try to look at how I would attempt to define my own use of the Earth’s resources and pound for pound can’t justify it in a material way. Not in a measurable unit at least. But in a spiritual way, it is possible that I do give back more to the planet than I devour. You may need to ask that question to those that are close to me. Hopefully, they will humor me with their thoughts.

To truly reach the sum of our lives, or the summit of our human happiness, may be a pipe dream. Truly we must always be trying a bit harder, even as the spiral is slowing as we are allowed to seek happiness with age. At the least, that seems to be my own experience. I never seem to get closer to the answers to my many questions. The numbers just don’t seem to be adding up. Would I struggle for my last breath of air? Our life here is so extraordinary, it is impossible for me to grasp being asked to leave it, let alone have it taken from me by the will of fate. I would wish to run from the final counting of my days.

I doubt if I would walk into the light, more than likely I would lightly step away. Which way would the answers in reality lie? The choice would be something to have to make.

I will have to work on my questions some more. Some day I will face this. This, a final sum.

The Demise of Cookie Monster As We Knew Him

"Be careful about reading health books. You may die of a misprint." -- Mark Twain

I am now going to write about what I have no official training to speak of. But that may be the point.

A health topic. Specifically, “The Childhood Obesity Epidemic.”

Mis-information seems to abound these days. My incredibly knowledgeable wife Karen, a Registered Dietitian with a Masters Degree in Human Nutrition from Case Western University, as well as writer of the blog “The Wellness Writer”, where all nutrition truth in my life flows from, is getting pretty irritated these days. For her to experience this emotion—or reaction—is somewhat entertaining to me and provides countless issues to talk about. Firstly, because I and my habits aren’t responsible, and secondly, she rarely lets actions and opinions of others bother her. She has a profound understanding of the proper approaches to child nutrition and though patient with most people, is beginning to let the “idiots” (my word for the people who are questionably proposing solutions for problems that perhaps are not problems until they have created them as so) get under her lovely and patient skin.

Here is my example of the seriousness of the situation. The producer of Sesame Street, Carol-Lynn Parente is quoted as saying, “Childhood obesity is at an epidemic. We feel we have a responsibility to do what we can to address it.”

So the character of Cookie Monster has a newfound nutritional awareness and is expressing it with a new anthem, “Cookie is a Sometime Food.” No longer will Cookie Monster suffer his single-handed obsession over cookies.

I guess Ms. Parente feels that they need to use Cookie Monster, a stuffed animal puppet character, the essence of childhood entertainment, as a role model. So Sesame Street is shifting Cookie Monster to a healthier lifestyle, by including and enjoying more fruits and vegetables in his diet.

Maybe a better approach would be for Cookie Monster to tell the kids watching his show to shut the TV off and go outside and play.

Now we got Senators like Sen. Tom Harkin stating the line that “The incidence of childhood obesity is now at epidemic levels.” Jumping on the obesity bandwagon are movie stars, professional athletes, writers, medical professionals and even First Lady Michelle Obama, telling us that our kids are fat and need to be put on diets.

So Karen wrote a letter to First Lady Obama. I warned her that she would now be on “The List” right next to my name. After all, I own guns and voted Republican.

Then I had my own flashback. I remember my Middle School wrestling coach telling my parents at an end of season banquet that if I could just drop a few pounds that I would be more competitive at a lower weight class. Now I had a little extra weight on me, but I was active and liked to eat. Cookies that my mom made were part of the diet, but so were the family meals that we shared every night and the Cap’n Crunch cereal that was my breakfast. So I just ignored the weight loss advice and continued to lose wrestling matches to starving, leaner and very angry young athletes. I did not drop from the 95 pound weight class to the 90, or even 85 pound weight class. When I look at that now, it seems absurd that it was even suggested to me.

I recently came across a quote from James Baldwin where he stated “Children have never been very good at listening to their elders, but they have never failed to imitate them.” It doesn’t mention childhood obesity at all but sums up what may be the true underlining problem our children are facing.

And that is their parents.

Have some fun with this…Join the Facebook page “Back in my day, the cookie monster actually ate cookies, not vegetables.” At last look it had over 108,500 fans.

Why Do I Have To Fix It?

There was a time when Secretary of Treasury Salmon Chase saw President Abraham Lincoln shining his own pair of shoes in his office at the White House.  Secretary Chase asked, "Mr. President, why are you blacking your own shoes?"  Lincoln responded to him in his own clever wisdom, "Whose shoes would you have me black, Mr. Secretary?"

I try to remember this little story when I tackle odd projects in my life.  I feel a great deal of satisfaction with the act of creating things.  And by creating, it doesn't have to be art or music or the building of new things. It can be giving new life to something old and broken. It can involve fixing something with my own hands that I may normally have asked a professional to do. Our family cars come to mind. I have become somewhat of a fix-it person and have become courageous at attempting repairs that I encounter.

I recently ran into a problem with a chainsaw, it just didn't run. I tried all the obvious stuff--bad gas, spark plug, air filter--to no avail.  It seemed like the problem was one of not getting gas to the motor. I had never torn into a small engine such as this and by the time I realized I may have gone to far, I had a workbench entirely covered with little, big, rubber, plastic, and aluminum parts. I discovered a few deteriorated rubber hoses that had grown brittle with age, (after all the saw was 20 years old) and a very dirty carburetor.  I cleaned the carb but I had to get some replacement gas line from the hardware to replace the bad stuff. Unfortunately it had grown to late to get to the store, so it would have to wait for the reassembly process to begin.

Then I forgot about this project for a couple weeks and moved on to other things (at least that's the story and I'm sticking to it).

I had put the gas line on a list of some other things that I needed to pick up from town, and I came across that while out and about one Saturday and picked it up from the local Ace Hardware Store. Which I might add, we are fortunate in Mason, to still have a hardware store, even two of them that darn near sit a block apart.

My first thought when I took the hose to the bench was "How am I going to remember the places all these parts go when I get ready to re-assemble it?"  I felt a large bit of frustrated fear, though the chain saw was already broken, I had now furthered that cause along even more. I also thought I could have just bought a new saw for $150 bucks and not had to worry about tearing this one apart and putting it back together again.

Ah, but where is the satisfaction in that?

Well, I tore into the job, slowly, looking at each part that I picked up like it was a new species that I had just that moment discovered. I began to make sense of the job and was able to put it all back together right the third time (twice I had to stop and back-up to put in a part that I overlooked). To my amazement, the darn saw fired up with just a few pulls and ran as good as it ever did.

When I look at my need to fix broken things, create a bit of new life in old, worn objects, I believe it stems from the basic fact that we grow fond of the landscape of our lives. And that landscape includes those items that have serviced you for a time. Cars, tools, bikes and even clothing become part of that very fabric (no pun intended) of the world we live in.

And right now, I am not ready to trade in all the stuff that I work and play with. Things now may be improved to be lighter and stronger and shinier, but they don't have the captured soul of "Me" dwelling inside them. This may be why Super Glue, JB Weld and Duct Tape are so popular, it holds our soul together as well as our old fishing pole.

"Tranquility Lost"

“I believe that the very purpose of our life is to seek happiness. That is clear. Whether one believes in religion or not, whether one believes in this religion or that religion, we all are seeking something better in life. So, I think, the very motion of our life is towards happiness…” – Dalai Lama

Sometimes you go out seeking the right thing but end up looking in the wrong place. That happened to me this past Saturday when I went for a kayak trip down the Looking Glass River with a group of mostly strangers.

The last 4 months have been a grueling schedule of meetings around Michigan, talking with groups and meeting with our membership. I had just spent the last 2 days with a statewide collection of a group of great people, Michigan dairy farmers and others that are connected to the industry. Our Annual Meeting is the opportunity to personally meet and talk about the many innovative programs that we had undertaken for them over the past year. And if you are not at all familiar with what our dairy farmers—especially in the dairy sector—and what they have gone through in 2009, things were pretty damn awful.

I was not four paddle strokes down the river when the guy next to me started to sound-off about a dairy farm that “killed” a river he was going to kayak this summer. He didn’t know me or who I worked for and launched into his, what I like to refer to as, “the Kool-Aid Induced Psycho-Environmentalist Rant.” I could tell right away, even though I knew a hundred times more about what happened on that river, that if I even opened my mouth he wouldn’t hear a word I said. That was even if he would have let me say it. I know it was a teachable moment and I should have jumped at the opportunity, but my state of mind only allowed me to slow my paddling pace and drop back where his voice slowly faded away to where I could know longer hear him. He did not even know I was gone for several minutes.

I could once again hear the birds singing.

But then this lady paddled up to me and asked me what I did. I should have said I was a philosopher and maybe she would have paddled by and away from my kayak. But, I said I worked for Michigan’s dairy farmers and she proceeded to explain how she would only drink “organic milk and how could farmers blah, blah, blah…”

I almost missed seeing a muskrat gliding along the river's shore. What else was I missing as my brain was being assaulted by this person?

This happened three more times before I retreated in the knowledge that today I would not reach what I needed in the department of “Peace of Mind.” I was missing what I came for, that fierce feeling of spirit that I succumb to when I am on the water with nature.

But I finally dropped back to the tail-end of the group and put a substantial distance between the others and caught a glimpse of what I came for before land was forced under my feet once again.

I saw the first bluebirds of the year.

Note about the above photo: You will notice the green "nose" of my kayak in the lower left corner of the picture and that the photo illustrates the distance I put between myself and the others.