What we don’t have

He who is not contented with what he has, will not be contented with what he doesn’t have.
- Socrates

I know a man who seems to embody this principle. He has amassed much in his life, is proud and somewhat vain; but for all he has achieved in his sixty plus-years of life, true happiness has remained elusive for him. The closest to happy I’ve ever known him to be is when he’s either hunting or bragging about what he has … both activities, for various reasons, only provide him with an empty sort of happiness akin to the empty calories people choose to try to nourish themselves from when reaching for a sack of potato chips. I’ve known this man for a long time, and I’ve never known him to act differently – he is, to me, a sad person despite the fact that he can brag for hours-on-end about the things he has.

On Nature

And as long as you’re subject to birth and death, you’ll never attain enlightenment.
- Bodhidharma

I thought it might be a good idea to reflect a little upon my beliefs, to try to organize them all ‘on paper’ and see if it’s even possible for me to make something ring as true for me in a blog as it already does in my head. First, a little personal history: I’m the child of a Catholic, military father and a Baptist, medical mother – neither were very connected to any churches (due in part to us having moved around so often), and I was raised with the ‘standard’ views of Christianity … otherwise, I was left largely on my own spiritually. I remember, as a child, how I used to embrace and carry on conversations with trees and at the same time envisioned a funny old man with a beard working gears and levers inside my heart, because my parents told me that’s where ‘God’ was. I also imagined this same person doing the same thing in the clouds, since I was told he could also be found there. As I got older, I forgot much of this, focused as I was on all sorts of other things; but around the beginning of my teenage years I started to develop a curious interest in the Heathen Aesir and Vanir. I can remember being around fifteen years-old when I lamented that these gods had been killed off and supplanted by the Christian deity … back then, I thought the world only had room for one ‘real’ religion; or that by a people accepting a new faith, the gods from the old faith would simply vanish without followers to sustain them. I don’t know where I got that impression from, it was just how I perceived things back then.

The Spice of Life

“The rule about bears is their unpredictability.”
- Anonymous

One of my great, enduring passions in life has been bears. It started when I was in the second grade, and I picked up a copy of Ernest Thompson Seton’s, “Biography of a Grizzly.” I read this book from front to cover in one day, the fastest I’d ever read a book to that point; and make it a point to re-read the book at least once per year ever since. That book was written in such a way that, before I knew anything about reincarnation, I was convinced that I had lived a life as the main character of the book, a grizzly bear named Meeteetse Wahb. At any rate, that book opened for me a door to the world of bears, one that has thankfully remained open all these years. I also regard Bear as one of my spirit guides, and have taken many lessons from her. One of the greatest of lessons I’ve learned has to do with the unpredictability of life and the cosmos in general.

Acceptance

Natura nihil agit frustra [Nature does nothing in vain] is the only indisputible axiom in philosophy. There are no grotesques in nature; not any thing framed to fill up empty cantons, and unncecessary spaces.
- Thomas Browne

All is as it should be … even if I don’t understand it all, or agree with it. Accepting this lends me the serenity I need to calmly see what happens next, and allows me to do so without being overly passive. This perspective also helps me to cope with things in my past – all paths taken in life lead to one’s current position, therefore all past events have a purpose. Again, I don’t have to agree with these events – just accept that they are a part of me; and understand that accepting myself means accepting these events, as well. With that in mind, I close with some words from one of my favorite authors ….

The All-Mother never fails to offer to her own, twin cups, one gall, and one of balm. Little or much they may drink, but equally of each.
- Ernest Thompson Seton

Years 1 thru 4

I remember, I remember
- Winthrop Mackworth Praed

The house on Manitoba -

Sitting in my high chair is my earliest, dimmest memory, but not so dim that I can’t remember the direction I faced or draw a reasonable floor plan of the room I was in and its adjoining room. I remember lying in my crib and, through the bars, seeing my babysitter step into the shower. I remember rolling on the floor towards the television and then back away, my father smiling as he told me “no” every time I approached – I thought it was quite the game, until I actually touched the television and saw my father’s face transform. I remember the smell of my first inflatable punching bag, and I remember my fascination at how Weebles wobbled but didn’t fall down. I remember the Sun on my face as I stepped outside – I don’t remember what day it was, only that it was late morning and I was wearing coveralls, and that it was the first memory I have where I was happy to feel the Sun on my skin. I remember exploring what seemed giants for trees at the time, and talking to them, and finding out that they were my best friends. I can still remember the smell of their bark, and the feel of their energy. I remember having a nightmare involving my father’s shadow, and daymares involving his substance. I remember my first snow, and that I had to look at it from inside because I was quite ill – my mother made a snowman for me, then brought some snow inside so I could investigate. That was the first year I remember watching the Frosty and Rudolf Christmas specials. I remember hating eggs, and the terror I felt when I saw my grandmother put eggs in what would be my birthday cake – she told me they were magic eggs, that they would disappear in the cake, to trust her – I’ve liked cake ever since, and eventually learned to like eggs. I remember the horror of daycare, and I remember the feeling of pride when I saw the daycare lady’s face as I introduced her to some of my father’s favorite vocabulary. My father was a drill instructor at the time, his language was both toxic and contagious – I very quickly had the other ten kids chanting along with me … I never went back to that daycare.