I am working on my humility and giving up my worldly possessions one possession at a time by, regretably, displaying my "inner piece."

I've heard it said that the key (or just a key) to inner peace is to be humbled and give up worldly possessions.  Which is why I always see bald Asians who own nothing but a robe smiling in every picture and, of course, practicing Kung-Fu or some sort of marshal art.

I guess, it is fair for me to say that I have not researched this much, if at all, and perhaps I only learned about finding inner peace through these measures by watching the TV show where a white guy who has not achieved inner peace played an Asian guy who had and went about beating up anybody who challenged the innerness of his peace and the peace of those around him; a.k.a. Kung Fu (the TV show).

But even those guys who never did learn karate and typically owned nothing and lived a life in humility seemed to be happy and on the verge of inner peace.  Yes, I am talking about monks, hippies, a select few homeless people, etc...  The list goes on.

Even John Lennon was wise enough to know that by giving up everything you believed in and everything you owned, you could be so much happier.  Granted, he wrote the song Imagine behind a very expensive piano in his Manhattan apartment, but he was getting there.

As am I!

In the last few years I've lost a lot: people who were once close to me, friends, family, half my stuff, time with my kid, pets, money, socks (just 1 per pair), etc.... yet another list that can simply go on.

At times it has been painful.
Mostly it has been humbling.
But, for the most part, I'm okay with a lot of it.

Over time, every loss and humbling experience combined really did get me thinking about how, as I've gotten older and acquired more stuff and more people have come into my life, I've also acquired more stress.  However, after the initial pain of losing someone, or something, has passed, I've actually come to gain some sense of relief.

I don't mean to sound callous, but that feeling of relief is a similar sensation to "well, one less thing to worry about."   Seriously, it's not that simple, but if I were to put it into words, I would have to type out a lot of them.  I think I'm typing enough words as it is.  You know I can do it!

However, what I know about myself is that, at this point in my life, I am not really willing to give up most of what I have.  Who really is?  It's not that I have anything lavish to maintain, but there is a way I need to live at this point in my life.  So, I have a job, to maintain a house, to provide shelter and supply food and use power and water... and I have stuff in my house for comfort, and for memories, and to fill space... and I have a car... etc... etc... etc... more lists...

Essentially, I GOT BILLS!!!!

So I have to wait for life to choose when I need to be humbled or when I need to give up a worldly possession.

A few Saturdays ago, life opted to kill two birds with one stone!

I was about an hour away from finishing up working a long day of televising football.  Yes, football fans are so desperate for football that sports networks now televise spring scrimmage games where the team plays itself in a game.  I was pulling for the team we were televising on this particular day and fortunately, they won!  I had doubts...

There is a great camaraderie among people on television crews.  We are an effective unit of professionals.  Sure video guys give audio guys grief and graphics guys get irritated and tape guys don't use tape... but we're there as a professional team to complete a job in a professional manner, right up until someone rips the crotch out of their shorts that is.  Then all hell breaks loose!

Well, that would be what happened to me!

Gaffers tape, much like duct tape,  is God's gift to those of us who cannot sew.

As we were striking our gear for the day, I managed to snag some part of my fly on a counter in my lonely audio booth.  When I squatted down to see what had happened, my shorts ripped from  mid fly to about a foot down my right thigh.  Luckily for me I had opted to wear neither my Burger King "HOME OF THE WHOPPER" nor my Optimus Prime underwear.  Unlucky for me, the light blue striped boxer briefs I had on were still remarkably exposed and did nothing to keep out the chill in the air.

At this point, I tried untucking my shirt.  Of course, it did not cover much of the tear and it simply showed off more of what is commonly called my "you look like a school bus in that shirt" shirt.

So, then I tried taping up the hole.  What you see pictured above was my first attempt.  I was unable to photograph the later attempts.  After what I thought was a successful tape up, I was finally confident enough to step out of my room and approach the Operations Manager to see if I could simply leave and avoid the strike.

Of course, before I could get the Ops Manager to be a part of this conversation, I had to walk through a crowd of crew members whom I kept steady eye contact with.  Upon reaching said Ops. Manager, I had to make her first promise to not feel sexually harassed by anything I needed to discuss.  That's right, she was a HER!

I brought her attention to my problem at which point the tape gave way.  She was not harassed in the least and had a great time laughing.  DID I MENTION THAT THERE WAS A CHILL IN THE AIR?!?!?!?!  I do not make a habit of flashing women, but if I did, I would not do it on cold days!

Needless to say, I taped up a lot more, so much in fact that it looked like I had shorts on that were half black and half khaki.  I ended up staying on and finishing the day and was "the hit of the party" in that everyone (but me) had a good laugh.

Yes, it turned out that life had opted to get rid of a worldly possession of mine (my favorite shorts) and humble me at the same time.

I'm sharing this with you today, because, well, it's a good story and, I could use a good refreshing case of humbling today.

Enjoy!

Feng Who? I'll just take it black.

I have lived my life surrounded by people who are indecisive about where to put their furniture.

I am using the word "people" generally, when in all reality, although they are actually people, to be more specific, in my experience they had all been WOMEN!!!  I just didn't want to come out and say "WOMEN" at first because I did not wish to be accused of generalizing a sexual stereotype that I used to quite  firmly believe in.

I have spent my life moving furniture for every woman I know.  And hanging pictures.

HAH.... "Hanging Pictures!"  I remember when that was a code term for a roommate of mine and his girlfriend.  She'd call and say "can you ask so and so (she knew his name, you just don't need to) to come over and help me hang a picture please?"  It wasn't until I stopped by her apartment one afternoon and noticed that she didn't have 90 something pictures in her house when it finally dawned on me!

I was never so lucky.  Whenever I've been asked to come over to "hang a picture," I'd have to hang a picture.  And on a side note to my side note, it's the same for "Wanna come up for coffee?"  Any time I've ever been asked that, I would wind up drinking coffee just before it was time for me to apparently go home and go to bed.  Nothing like a caffeine rush to heighten frustration....

Anyway, I swear I almost died once trying to properly place a sofa.  It was a sleeper sofa to be more specific.  "Move it here.... now try there.... How about over there...."   After about an hour of this and more back pain that I could possibly stand, I got coffee... JUST coffee....

I have lived with this stereotype for women for a very very long time.  THE STEREOTYPE IS WRONG!!!

Forgive me now?

Feng Shui... the first time I heard that term, I thought someone was being insane about some sort of wrinkly Chinese Dog.  I was mistaken.

When I started hearing about the belief that your placement of furniture could be a spiritual experience, I felt that this was some sort of made up medical excuse for some type of neurotic/ OCD behavior. 

I may be correct in my belief, however, as I have looked into it more, even if it is a medical excuse invented to justify OCD, it is a belief that is thousands of years old and was even suppressed in China at one time; which means it's gotta be powerful!

Of course, one of the purposes for designing a building a specific way or putting your furniture in a specific location (aka Feng Shui) is to help increase ones Qi which is pronounced "chee."

Now, the most important thing about "Qi" is that, well, you can score a lot of points using that word in Scrabble or Words With Friends.  It is an accepted word in both games and will help you win and, again in my personal experience, upset a lot of people who have me move their furniture and hang their pictures in exchange for coffee...  Qi is also ones positive energy.

So, following Feng Shui will essentially make you happy!

I was not happy Saturday morning at 5:23 when my dog woke me up.  I was not happy at all.

I woke up, charged with feed-the-dog-and-pet-her rage for a good twenty minutes.  I gave her a belly rubbin' that she will not soon forget.  "That oughta learn her!" I thought to myself.

Afterwards, she took a nap, but I was up.  Then I had an idea.  "I'M GONNA RE-ARRANGE MY BEDROOM!!!!"  And so I did.

In the next three hours I had flipped my king sized bed from one side of the room to the other.
I put my elliptical where my TV and armoire had been and I put the TV and armoire where the elliptical had been.
I moved my dresser where my night stand on my side of the bed had been and put my dogs "bed" where my head of the bed had originally been.
I even added a second nightstand that I had used before somewhere else in the house.
Then I went to the store and got three new lamps for my room.
Then I finished it all off by hanging some pictures in newly created empty wall space!

MY GOD I FELT SO ALIVE!!!!  SO MUCH QI!!!

I know it might be cheesy (spelled "Qisy) to say, but I really felt happy.  I do fight depressing thoughts from time to time and at the time I woke up Saturday, I really had been in a lull for a few days, that was not all dog related.  The simple act of redoing my bedroom was exhilarating!

That was four days ago and I am still thrilled to walk into my bedroom.  It is easier to navigate in the dark and I just like looking at it... when, it's not, in the dark.

Anyway, upon finishing my room, still riding my wave of positive energy, I sat down, all aglow with good vibes, and poured myself a coffee...

Apparently even I need to move the furniture and hang pictures and all I'm willing to reward myself with is a lonely cup of black coffee.... sighhhh....
 

I am surrounded by wonderful people... WHO ARE TRYING TO KILL ME!

I've often heard the phrase "The way to a man's heart is through his stomach!"  and I used to think that it was meant to be something sweet.  But I am starting to believe it is something very dark and suspicious!

Granted, in my youth, I often fell for the "sweet" aspect of this.  I can remember way back in college when I was dating this beautiful woman but I had gotten to that point where I just wasn't into the relationship anymore and I wanted to break up.  This was before cell phones and texting when you were expected to break up with someone to their face, so I'd go to her house to tell her, she just lived  a few blocks from my dorm.

I'd get to her house, ready to end it and she would open her door and it would smell DELICIOUS!!!  She was an incredible cook.  She'd invite me in, I'd sit in defiance, she knew what I was there to do and she'd offer me "just a nibble" and yadda yadda yadda, we were back on for a few more days.  I mean, c'mon, this was college.  Kids can starve to death in school.

Eventually, I got wise and I stooped down so low as to try to break up with her over the phone.  She had one of two evil fixes for that though:  A.) either she would say "why don't you come over so we can talk" and BOOM Lasagna.... or B.) it was the early 90's, again, no cell phones.  She knew where I was when I called her from my dorm a few blocks away.  So, she'd just show up after the call with a pie.

It was awful.  Eventually I had to do that awful thing where I just started ignoring her calls until she figured it out.  She deserved better, but I had no will power to fight off her caloric magic.  Ironically she was as skinny as a rail and hardly ate her own food.

Of course, there was also the high school crush who made lemon meringue for me and continued to send me lemon filled donuts when I moved away... and my Mom who always bought me groceries whenever she'd visit or save leftovers for me .... and pretty much any woman I've ever dated who could cook!

And so there you have it, it was as though every knew that food was the key to my love.

Now, let's fast forward a few decades... In fact, let's move about three decades past college right up to, this week and even this very morning!

I visited my Mom a few days ago.  There is nothing quite like going home to Mom!  I walk into her house and pretty much melt.  I know she can take care of me.  She sent me back home with a bunch of leftovers: a tray of lasagna, a tray of another casserole, some cooked pork tenderloin, a frozen tenderloin, some sausages (again cooked and uncooked) and several different desserts.  She had had some family visiting and needed me to take the leftovers.  I AM 100% A OK WITH THAT!!!  When I got back to my house, another relative of mine had left a batch of cookies she had made for me on my front porch.  YIPPEE!!!!

I love this stuff.  I need this stuff.  I WANT THIS STUFF!!!!  I know I am loved.  I have eaten like a king the past few days!

So, yesterday morning, after working out, I decided to eat healthy.  The one child and I opted for whole grain Cheerios for breakfast.  They were delicious!  It was all I needed.  I packed some leftover lasagna and sausage for my lunch (seriously a small portion) and I headed out the door to work!

Of course, I stopped off for a morning coffee with another relative.  Aaaaand of course, he had made some sausage biscuits.  I debated on eating one, but he served it to me "Eat it!  It's good!"  I ate it.  T'was good.  Upon finishing it, he said "get yourself another!"  I won that fight and did not.

I drank my coffee and headed to the office seriously reconsidering having any lunch.

I got to the office in time for our morning meeting.  "Oh Look... Donuts...."  The department head spearheading the meeting had brought donuts as a part of his gift to us for showing up to the meeting.  I refused, but ended up taking one at the end of the meeting.  I had enough will power to only take one bite and then toss the rest.  I was proud of my strength.

I sat back at my desk, rethinking my eating habits, when in walked another co-worker with steak biscuits from a fast food chain.  This guy is one of the nicest people I've ever met (unless he's grumpy, which happens daily, but it's hardly ever anything personal).  He is always thinking of others and is very generous about sharing food with the rest of us in the office.

DAMN HIM!!!!

I stared at the biscuit for a good 20 minutes.  I tried to ignore it.  I did not want to be rude....

I ate half of it and tossed the rest.  I know, such strength again, right?

With all of that covered now, I have come to realize that, the gift of food is not just a romantic thing.  It can also be a generous thing for people who are starving and for people who are needy.  It can be a gesture of family or friendship.  It is a number of things.

However, unless you're going for the whole "feed the starving" thing, which is quite noble, the food is NEVER healthy food!  I would never offer a friend a cabbage "out of love."

And so, I am very grateful for all of the kind food gestures and I pray that they will continue, right up until my coronary!

That's right.  I believe that we have been instinctively programmed to kill each other with kindness and with the the phrase should be altered to "The way to a man's heart (attack) is through his stomach!!!"

And oh yeah, that lasagna lunch was GREAT!!!!

....And nobody had to die.

Yesterday was a bad day.  It was a very very bad day.

No, nobody died.  So there was a plus.

It was so frustrating and difficult that I was afraid to talk to anyone out of fear of saying those damning words of "It couldn't get any worse" because then it totally would've gotten worse.  So, I talked to no one.

I'm not going to give all of the details that led to the bad day other than to list:
- City Hall
- Software
- Exhaustion
- Plumbing
- Expenses
- Life Choices
- Employment Concerns
- Kim Jong Un
- General Irritability
- Groceries
and so much more...

All of that simply pushed me to a brink.  Granted, nothing in my life suddenly changed yesterday to make anything significantly worse.  It just all seemed to chew me up and spit me back out.

I think my biggest issue yesterday was the lack of acceptance within me.  There was nothing for me to fight against, and nothing I could do to change anything going on.  I simply needed to accept it and find comfort in the fact that I'm no worse off than I was the day before.  And I really wasn't bad off then.

But, surely you know the feeling(s) right?  Where suddenly you feel like screaming at the top of your lungs "I'VE HAD ENOUGH AND I JUST WON'T TAKE IT ANYMORE!!!!"   But there's always that concern that life will just scream right back at you "OH YEAH.... Really?!?!?!"

Well that's where I was.  Granted, the majority of it was most likely in my head or me just beating myself up.

Anyway, my work day ended and I went home.  I got to spend an evening with my little girl.  That, was Heaven!

We had a great night with another family member and ate some lasagna made by a different family member and then played games and chatted.  Simple stuff, but so peaceful.

Then at bedtime, as I was ready to read her a book, she mixed it up a little and decided to read to me.  "Daddy, I think you said you like this one...."

I had one of those moments where you feel that your parenting is paying off and your kid just might not be as messed up as you fear you may be making them.  It was nothing major, and it was probably much more touching to me than in was to her, but I like to think it meant the world to both of us.

She pulled out from behind her back my personal favorite from Dr. Suess's catalog, Fox in Sox!  This is his best work and my favorite part is all about the Tweedle Beetles!  I used to read this to her quite often from perhaps her birth until about 6 and a half, then I had to start reading about princesses and stuff....

But oh how last night was wonderful as she read the chaos from the pages.  On page 27 she needed a break "Daddy, my mouth hurts, can you read some?"  And so I did, but by page 29 she took it back.  When we finally got to the Tweedle Beetles she stopped and looked at me "Daddy, you can read this part.  I know it's your favorite!"

I almost cried, but that would have made it harder to read.  So I totally MANNED UP and read about "tweedle beetles battling in a puddle  with a paddle in a bottle on a poodle!"  Because that is an AWESOME read!!!

Everything else was gone.  I was sharing a moment watching my child read to me something I had read to her dozens (if not more) of times before and she only did it because she knew I liked it!  All seemed right with the world.

When will she be ready to read The Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy  to me?  Ohhhhhh I can hardly wait!

Anyway, all seemed better in my world this morning.  She woke up, we had breakfast and I took her to school.

AND THEN SOME S.O.B. CUT ME OFF IN TRAFFIC!!!!  I wanted to unleash some Tweedle Beetle Justice on him I tell you what!

C'est la vie'.

Title of Story: "THE END!"

But alas, I am simply not good at that style and apparently would not have been very good in that profession, and there you have it!  But at least I was able to give you a quick history lesson.

And that's it.  I'm sorry it wasn't too exciting, but that's really all I have for you today.




.....   Perhaps I should start from the beginning and explain!

See, when I was a student in the School of Journalism at my University, twenty something years ago, they taught us to write in the style of "The Upside Down Pyramid!"  This is based on getting to the point of your story first and then filling in all of the details afterwards.

If I recall correctly, this style of writing for news came about during the American Civil War when the telegraph was widely used by newspaper reporters.  In case the telegraph lines were cut whilst reporters were transmitting their story to the newspaper (which obviously happened often), they would simply get to the point of the story in the beginning.  Much like building the bottom of the pyramid first, but at the top..... yeah, the visual made more sense in college....

But you get to the point right?  It's like starting with your dessert for dinner, moving onto the main course and then having the sides, the salad and then finishing off with your appetizer.  So, perhaps it could've been called the "Really Big Meal in Reverse" style of reporting.

Anyway, this is still a very commonly used style in reporting but does it have to be?  I dunno.

When you think about it, newspapers and magazines have much more space to fill with a news story than television and radio do.  Broadcast news has a time limit, so they have to keep all their stories short and concise.  Print can take all the time in the world, it's really up to the reader regarding how much time they choose to give to a certain story.

So, print could really go into a much more narrative style of writing if they chose to, but would you read?

"It was a dark and stormy morning when your local senator was spotted through my camera lens that day..."  Would be a rough way for a story to start and then finish two pages later with "And so, apparently taxes will be increased!"

That might just offend the reader.  I might have given up after the first sentence, unless there was some juicy stuff littered throughout the article.

So anyway, I don't write in the "Gravity and Laws of Nature Defying Upside Down Pyramid" style of writing.  I've been reviewing a lot of my past articles lately and it is very clear to me that I don't do it.  Apparently, I just ramble and ramble and ramble on until I get to some sort of point.  I should try something different today.