Another “Leap of Faith”

Who is this man?                                                                          Why, Albert Berry, of course.                                                              You know, the one who is credited as being the first to parachute out of an airplane. That was 100 years ago today.                       They had cameras then. Yes, that’s –                                       Captain Berry,  pictured at right.

Turns out I am not the only one who was ever inspired by the wonder that is February 29.

No, Ma, I am not going parachuting today.  Don’t worry, I’m way too self preserving for that sort of activity.  Heck da Vinci invented the parachute, and there’s no account of him ever trying it!

That brings me to the day after Leap Day theme: Faith vs. Stupidity.

I know, that sounds really heavy.  Again, don’t worry, I’m not stupid enough to try and define Faith for you; and I don’t have enough faith to do something as stupid as being the first one to ever jump out of a flying airplane.  Heck, 100 years ago, I wouldn’t have even gone up in the airplane!

Since you and I are leaping this year, I just thought it was appropriate to touch on the subject: Faith vs. Stupidity.

It’s really hard to define Faith things though.  So, I’ll focus mostly on stupid things.  I know that’s a mean word.  In fact, in our household, it is The “S” word.  Yet, I think stupid is appropriate when in context with faith.

Lots of people think faith in something you can’t see is stupid.  Boy do I get that!                 If I asked a stranger to go deposit $1000 cash for me, and couldn’t see him or her doing it – that would be stupid.  If I never even saw the house I was about to purchase for a million dollars, and live in  indefinitely – that would be stupid.  This sounds mean, but I think it would be stupid if I committed to my future bride without even knowing what she looked like.

Lots of people think faith in people is stupid.  I agree.                                                               I would never trust a drug dealer to invest my money.  Shoot, I wouldn’t even trust a music major to do that.  I would never trust a gossip with discretion.                                                Am I judging who is and who isn’t a gossip?                                                                            Yup.  If someone is defaming others to you, s/he is defaming you to others.                           It’s that simple.

Lots of people think faith in themselves is stupid.  I know.                                                       If I bet the house I could beat Kevin Durant in a one on one game of basketball – that would be stupid.  Believing I have the smarts to beat Garry Kasparov in a game of chess – that would be stupid.

I think it is really stupid to believe enough in myself enough to think I can predict how the story of another person’s life will turn out.

Ya, it’s easy to talk about stupid things.                                                                                  Faith things are difficult.                                                                                                         Maybe that’s because it’s so hard to find faith people.                                                              If I could find 10 people who really had faith, I’d go jump out of an airplane.

Peace,

MPower

first of all… Happy Leap Year!!

 Have you ever had a gold fish?

They’re awesome!

Not because of their size or originality – speaking of the gold, gold fish (yes, Ma, that was a very long run-on sentence).

The gold gold fish, not the white or black or yellow ones seem to kinda all look alike.  Though if you ever had multiple gold fish at one time, it’s surprising how easily you can tell them apart – how really different they are (I believe that sentence was complete – only felt like a run-on).

And if you have been a gold fish owner, you have named them, even though they aren’t even mammals, and they are destined for the water closet.

You have given them names and remember every single one of them, because this was your only pet.  Oh, you may have had the family dog, or cat, but those weren’t really yours when you had your gold fish. When you had your gold fish you had ceased taking responsibility for the dog or the cat, and those mammals have become Mom’s.

So you have a gold fish, with a name.

No one really knows how long the gold, gold fish lives.  They inevitably come to an untimely doom, due to starvation, fatal digestion (too much food), or leaping.

Though the first two are quite common, I believe that leaping is the second most common cause of death for the gold fish.  I did not want to mention the number one cause, which is by fraternity contest.  That swallowing contest is quite morbid.

Though, possibly not quite as morbid as the way one of Mrs. Power’s gold fish found their way to Davey Jones’s locker: death by grandmother leaving said fish exposed on top of the car, in the bowl, amid 99 degree weather.  It boiled to death.

Why did it not leap?

Gold fish are much smarter than your average fish bowl fish.

That gold fish knew it was doomed for sure if it leapt out onto the 135 degree asphalt.

The poor creature took it’s chances on Nanna returning in time.

I could write plenty of words on Nanna.  She was such a character!

But today, on the day we celebrate the 29ers and the mystery that is Leap Year, we are focused on the wit and wisdom of the gold fish (at least I am).  You see the gold fish will not stay in the fish bowl forever.  They are always thinking outside of the bowl. They (usually) will bet their lives that there is life, more abundant life, outside of the fish bowl in which they are presently contained.   And when they reach that bigger bowl, they will grow!                                                            In fact, it is the only way they will grow.

They know they have to take that leap of faith.

When you know it is time, take the leap.

This is the time when you know you have grown as much as you can in that present bowl.

It can be scary.  There are a lot of mean cats out there.

You’ll have to get help in order to get to that bigger bowl.  Don’t worry.  Everyone who ever took the leap got help.  Don’t be deceived by those so called “self-made men” who forget, who run-on about how original they are.  Everyone, at some point or another was recognized as being original enough to get help.  Remember that. You ARE original enough. So, get that help – even if it is just getting someone to show you the way to the bigger bowl.  It doesn’t matter how small you are now.

You will grow!  Leap!!

Peace,

MPower    02/29/12

Epilogue:  It turns out Nanna had placed a large bowl of cucumbers in cool water right next to Mrs. Power’s little fish bowl.

I guess “Shirley” didn’t realize how much room there was for her in that big bowl.

You may not have read what I wrote yesterday, possibly because I haven’t posted it yet.

It is about mockery.  You know everyone is capable of mockery, but that doesn’t make you a Mocker.

No one can completely avoid mockery, but you can (and must) avoid a Mocker.

And by the way, today is Valentines Day, 2012 where the biggest story in sports, and besides the debacle in Greece, the biggest story in the news is “VaLintines Day”, “Linsanity”, Jeremy Lin.  He is an NBA basketball player.

His rise to basketball, and international fame is as unlikely as what is pictured above.  Don’t stop reading because I mentioned the NBA.  The NBA is just like every other group of people.  It’s a group of people with distinctly individual stories.

I wrote about mockery yesterday, but I’d like to mention it again today.   Let’s not engage in it today, on Valentines Day.  I woke up to several lovely Valentines messages today.  That’s nice.  One wasn’t.

It said, “I have no valentine today… It’s a ‘lame’ holiday, anyway.”

Let’s stop it right there.

You don’t have to love the NBA, any more than you have to love Valentines Day.  But don’t call it, “lame”.  First of all, that’s not a nice expression.  Secondly, your talking about human beings.  You don’t have to go out and get the NBA package for your cable TV, but you don’t have to sneer when people mention it, either.

Don’t worry, I’m not going to spend 400 more (or less) words trying to sell you on the NBA.  And I don’t have to sell you on Jeremy Lin.  Just have a gander at USA Today and you’ll see him.  I don’t bet on sports, but I’ll bet on Jeremy Lin (being on the front page).  Right now, nobody can beat Jeremy Lin.  For generations, parents have wanted their children to attend Harvard, just not for basketball.

What does Harvard have to do with Valentines Day?        

Jeremy Lin went there and played basketball.  And Jeremy Lin is the story this Valentines Day, 2012 (except Greece).  Nobody goes to the NBA from Harvard, let alone Asian Americans who are under 7’5.  You might not even be aware that Harvard had a basketball team.  Yes, Jeremy  Lin’s rise to fame in the NBA is as unlikely as what Valentines Day is supposed to represent – individuals falling in love.

Think about how unlikely it is for individuals to fall in love.

I don’t love all of the Seinfeld vignettes.  But do you remember when Jerry and “Elaine” are talking about how unlikely it is for individuals to get together?

JERRY: 80% of the population is undateable.

ELAINE: How do you explain the other 20%?

JERRY: Alcohol

My wife and I did not drink when we met.  So you can’t explain it that way.

And let me tell you, our rise to matrimony is about as unlikely as the Jeremy Lin story; and it’s as impossible as any love.

My wife was born in Orange County. Not the Orange County in the state where Jeremy Lin now plays basketball.  It was Orange County, California.

Yours Truly was born in Eastern Canada (same hospital as my good pal, Ryan Gosling).

My wife moved far to the East:  Hong Kong

Yours Truly moved West, to Yakima, in the state of Washington.

My wife next moved to Vietnam.

Yours Truly moved all the way to Bellevue (WA).

Yours Truly went on a (singing) tour to The Phillipines, and sang at the school my future wife was attending.  Missed her though.  My future was presently back in California.

I found my true love for her in Africa.    Happy Valentines Day to my True Love of 25 years!

Not even the beloved Jeremy Lin can beat that!

MPower

 If I’m not mistaken, this is my 50th blog post!  So, I decided to give myself a little love, a little shout out.

If your smirking right now, give me a break.  Yes I know, anybody can get up and ramble for two hours for the delight, bewilderment, worry and nausea of four readers; but I say 50 something of anything is difficult.

I mean, there’s a lot to 50 something.  You have to go through a lot, going through 50.  Yes, even 50 blogs about nothing.  I was flattered to be compared to the Seinfeld show, though.  You remember that show about nothing?  After about 50, it really turned into something.      So, I’m encouraged.  Proud, even.  It doesn’t matter that one of my readers said that s/he just reads the last paragraph now, that the rest is a pointless and random stream of semi-consciousness.   (That’s good though, I think I’ll use that)                                                         I say, Duh!  I wish I could just go to the last paragraph too.  But, Hello!, I have no idea how it’s going to end until I get there either!  Yes, in every 50, there is an adventure.

What’s that?  I haven’t said anything positive about the 50 experience.  True.

There have been good things about the adventure. I really like the coffee, for example.  It’s my only cup of the day, nowadays.  In case you didn’t know, I write with an iPad.  Those are cool.  And I really liked my post about 5 Golden Rings, about 25 posts ago.

There.  That was positive.

My Ma used to say, “Be positive. There’s power in positive thinking.  So, think positively!”. Oh ya, she still does.  Isn’t it great how your mother is always your mother (coincidentally I’m nearly 50).  I would say back to my Ma, “Mother, I am positive that I can’t stand that.” Mom would chuckle and say, “That’s not what I meant, Silly (code for ‘stupid’).  Ma loves ironical humor – sarcasm if you will.  Hard for her to stay serious, and mad enough at you to pull the fat wooden spoon out of the large utensils drawer, when you turned that phrase juuuuust right.  I can sense her going for the spoon drawer to this day, and then she remembers that I’m nearly 50, and now I’ve done 50 blog posts.

A new level of respect comes with 50, right?  I’m fairly positive about that.   And it’s hard to be positive about anything these days.  For one thing, it’s not funny or sexy.              ”Sexy” is the new “Cool”.                                                                                                        Being positive would never work on Seinfeld, for example.  What if observational humor was about how much more than it’s body weight an ant can carry – it’s like 50 times.

  That’s not funny.  How about, “What’s up with your hair?  It looks like you just got back from the beauty parlor where the stylist did an amazing job!”

Not funny.  See what I mean?

Same thing with sexiness.  Have you ever seen your favorite heart throb with a positive look on their face?  It’s usually that sexy stare.  You know that stare – the one you can’t take your eyes off in the check out line.

You either have to think or say JLow is sexy, or think or say something negative about her.  Same thing with Katy Perry or Kim Kardashian (just wanted to see if she was famous enough for my iPad to auto correct – not sure about the spelling).

You know them, though, right?  It was the same way with Marilyn Monroe (that auto-corrected).  You’re not going to say, “I don’t think Brad Pitt is sexy, but I’m positive his kids are going to turn out to be quite well adjusted.”. If you don’t think he’s sexy, you’re probably negative.

Being sarcastic and negative is sure a lot funnier, and more entertaining than being positive (and it might even keep you out of a whoopin’), but it’s not going to get you to 50.

Normally I’d stop right there and have you talk amongst yourselves.  But one of my readers is positively encouraging me to positively give more advice, and words of wisdom, and stuff like that. I am positive that that’s a stretch, but here goes!

If you want to get to 50 here’s what you do (I heard blog readers like lists).                      Well, OK, here’s what I do while I’m going for 50:

1. Give yourself a cup of ice cream (and maybe a bowl if your spouse isn’t there) if you’ve plugged in your iPad charger to a functioning outlet,  laid out your sweats and shoes or slippers, and your wallet and keys are in the same proximity, and then you go to bed.
2. Only hit the snooze button once.
3. Drive the good car to the coffee shop, with your favorite talk show hosts giving you their greetings.
4. Make sure you have had no stimulants before that (first) cup of coffee that stimulates you while writing.  That way the Pavlovian effect is in place (you know, the dog and the bell).
5. Write something about your Ma, in addition to that inside joke that will make your spouse chuckle when you get home and you remembered to ask her to read your blog at just the right moment (not while she’s making sandwiches and oatmeal for your kids, and trying to get them out the door for school).
6. Eat your favorite morning morsel just after giving your spouse the iPad.
7. Point out all the positive parts of your post (like the alliteration).

No joke, everything I do to achieve 50 is positive.  It’s (self) affirming, even.                 Timing is everything.  You don’t have to be funny, but you must be patient.                Humor helps, though. Make sure it’s not cut down humor.                                                Give yourself a day off, like Sunday when you sleep.                                                             Don’t waste your energy on trying to be clever, and original. You either are or you aren’t (my profound statement for the day).

OK, that was sarcastic.  But you have to be able to laugh at yourself if you’re going to get to 50.  And being negative ultimately isn’t that funny.  And it doesn’t mean your smart.

Be positive, and you can be positive you’ll get to 50, like me.                                         Wanted to give myself one more bit of love.  It is February after all <3

Peace,

MPower

This is a more contemporary sports card. And the player is someone you may have heard of by now. This is Eli Manning. He is the son of Archie Manning, an NFL great from the 70′s. Archie was the original Manning quarterback, and is beloved by thousands, maybe tens of thousands, hundreds of thousands, millions. And speaking of millions, and in case you still don’t know who he is, Eli is the brother of Archie’s first born – Peyton Manning.

Peyton plays quarterback. In fact he’s so good that many consider him to be the best to have ever played the position. Peyton makes 20+ million dollars per year to play quarterback for Indianapolis Colts, of The National Football League. And he makes even more than that endorsing things, lots of things.

You probably recognize Peyton even if you have never seen an NFL football game. By his own admission, Eli has grown up in the shadow of his big brother. There is nothing he could do that Peyton couldn’t do better, or at least first (better). All the prophets of football bet that Peyton would be the first player picked the day the NFL drafts/claims ownership of former college players. They bet correctly. Said prophets did not bet on Eli being number one; but he was. The masses who did not bet on Eli, booed Eli, and the fact that Eli was picked number one. They kept booing while Eli was throwing pick after pick (slang for interception, when you unintentionally throw the ball to the other team) in his Giants uniform. It didn’t seem like Eli was overly upset by this. Seemed like he was content being in his big brother’s shadow. Heck, Eli still got to go to all the cool Manning parties, and ceremonies. He even got to be in a commercial with his big brother, where Peyton called him, “Little Brother”. And Eli must have been really, really content when he was introduced to his wife, by Peyton. Eli’s wife is what you might call, “a real looker”!

Yep, it looked like Eli would never be elite. He would never be an elite quarterback like his brother (or even like his dad). Even after he went head to head with Tom Brady, a proven elite, in the 2008 Super Bowl, beat Tom Brady and The New England Patriots, and won the MVP award, Eli was still not said to be elite. In fact, he quickly fell back into that shadow. Part of the reason was because Peyton had won the big game and the big award first – just the year before, in fact. Additionally, Eli’s victory that year was overshadowed by the fact that he came back the next year throwing pick after pick, and leading his team to a whole lot of nothin’. Seemed like he couldn’t make the right adjustments.

Fast forward a couple of years to this. Eli plays 14 games. He has a mediocre record of 7 and 7.      One more loss and his team is eliminated from the NFL playoffs and any chance to get back to the Super Bowl.

As you now know, that loss did not occur. Eli kept coming back and kept coming back. At the final whistle Sunday, Eli was officially elite. Eli’s come back is now known as one of the greatest in NFL history. They won’t ever talk about elite quarterbacks without at least mentioning him. You had to know it would happen, though, ’cause you can’t spell E l i t e without E l i .

Our come backs may not be as dramatic as Eli’s, but they are every bit as important. Sure, Eli is now a celebrity athlete. He is rich and famous and surrounded by beauty and promise. I still say your come backs are just as important. I have been talking about football games . I’m talking about football players, a football family. Eli is the third to be great. He is another great Manning quarterback. It’s a big deal. Yes.

Do you still not understand why yours (and mine) is just as important? You, yes, you, and I, yes, I, can make a come back of some kind that will not only maintain the family tradition and history; we can change it! If you make that come back, and I’m betting you will, you can change your family history. You can be the first of Greats! And because you don’t give up, and keep coming back, Greats come after you. Because you made that come back, adjustment by adjustment, you have given birth (literally or figuratively) to Archies and Peytons and Elites like Eli. It’s true. Don’t take it lightly. Pretend for a second that I am your coach.  Here’s the game plan:

1. Suit up! Put on your helmet and be ready                                                                               2. Get in the game when your time comes                                                                                 3. Make the right adjustments                                                                                                    4. Hold on to the ball when your opponent is hammering you                                                5. Move forward at all costs                                                                                                         6. Stay within your means                                                                                                            7. Visualize yourself crossing that goal line

Your Super (Bowl) victory is at hand. Catch it!

Peace,

MPower

Comebacks!

 If you look closely, you’ll see this is not a self portrait (of me).  The hair color and texture is similar, but that’s really about it.  I can’t grow that good of a mustache, and my nose does not turn up.

And, the picture, which is a American football card says his name pretty plainly: Pete Athas.

My name is Mark Power.

I have never heard of Pete Athas, and I have never seen this picture before. This is not a current player.  It’s a picture of a trading card from the 1970′s.  Mr. Athas evidently played for the New York Football Giants.  He did not play for the team when they made an improbable comeback for victory in the February 3rd, 2008 Super Bowl.

February 3rd was a Sunday in 2008.  Sunday is the day of the week they play the Super Bowl.  That’s why they call it Super Bowl Sunday.

The New England Patriots is the name of the team the New York Football Giants defeated back in 2008, coming back to win with less than a minute left in the game.

Now it’s the New England Patriot’s turn for a comeback. They get to play the Giants in the Super Bowl again this Sunday.  Pete Athas will not be playing in that game, and neither will I.  That is what we have in common, Pete Athas and I.  Neither one of us could ever even dream of playing in a real American football game again.  There is no way either one of us will ever get a chance for a comeback.

I realize that I have done nothing but state the obvious for well over 100 words.What might surprise you is that at least once a month I have a dream, or you might say, nightmare, that I’m putting the pads back on ready to go onto the field to take back the district championship (not exactly The SuperBowl).But before I get onto that field, I have convinced myself, in my sleep, somehow, that I am in a dream, and never take the field.

You see, I literally can’t even dream of playing again.  Neither can Pete.  I don’t actually know about his dream life.  Heck, I don’t even know him.  Never even heard of him.

But most ex-players are in my shoes, I think.  Like many of my football brethren, I tried to comeback in a game, and failed – fairly miserably. Unlike Tom (Brady), Pete and Mark will never even be able to dream of a chance of a comeback for that big win!

“Forget-da-bout-it”, as they say in New York.

What’s the good word of the day?  The word is – you can come back from most other things, at least the things you can control, and are supposed to control.

Impossible comebacks happen every day!

They are achieved by regular people, and “no-names” like Pete and Mark. Now, that is something to cheer about!  You want to, need to, make some kind of comeback concerning some things, right?  Best if you make a game plan to defeat one of them at a time.  Remember, most importantly, it has to be your come back has to be in context of you bing in control  – in the right way.  I know, I keep saying, “control in the right way”.   The right way to control is with things you can control.

You can’t control things like time and age.  You’ll never get the time back that you could throw a ball 55 yards with accuracy, especially since you already graduated from high school, and college, and graduate school.  They don’t even let you come back no matter how much you insist, like “Uncle Rico”, of the film Napolean Dynomite, that you swear you can throw the ball over “them there mountains”.  I’m all for dreaming big, even unrealistically.  I, too, wish I could actually get back into that game and win it.  At least I could wake up with some sense of satisfaction.  But when in comes to come backs, I heartily recommend being realistic. 

And (then) get your A Game on!!  It’s not going to be easy.

I will try to help you as I am (game) planning on helping myself.  In fact, I believe this topic is so vital that I will write the sequel to this quick essay of 500 words, or more (or less), tomorrow – the day after the Big Game!  So stay tuned, after you enjoy the Super Bowl come back!  And then I’ll see you tomorrow.

In case your literally looking for me (tomorrow), remember, I’m not the guy in the Giants uniform with the sick ‘stache, and turned up nose. I’m just another guy who sorely needs a come back.

Peace,

MPower

I think everybody knows what this symbol stands for.  I don’t even have to say the word, anymore.                     Isn’t it incredible that just thirty years ago (when I was a kid) it didn’t exist.  Green was just a color.                   Now it’s something you are, Green.  Or aren’t.  In Seattle, at least, that means you’re either good or bad.  (It’s bad if you aren’t Green.)

It’s one of those questions that is hard for a lot of us to answer.  It’s rarely answered with an immediate “Yes” or “No”, for a lot of us.                                                                           ”Uh, I try to be, Green.” “Well, most of the time I…”

Why do I bring it up today?  I know it’s not Earth Day.  And, yes, I have other things to think about.  I’ve got a really important conference call in a couple of hours, in fact, that has to do with Africa and South America pictured above (you may not have noticed it).  And I’m not quite done with a little writing piece that has to do with that meeting.          It’s not this one.  In fact, I’ve got to hurry up and finish this 500 word or more (or less) writing piece and get home because it’s that every other week, and I wasn’t prepared for it. It wasn’t my main priority today.  It’s that every other week, day, when we have to remember to be Green when I’d rather remember Africa and South America.                   It’s that every other Tuesday, the day in Seattle on our street, when you’ve got to remember to sort stuff.

I said, in Seattle, now. Those are the operative words. ’Cause I know how they do it in L.A.  In Seattle, the volume of the garbage can is about 4 cubic feet, and the other one is about 4 times that.  I’m not exaggerating.  They don’t even give you wheels for the can with garbage.  It’s a punishment.

One quick Seattle story, ’cause I’m almost out of time (I neglected to put out the green can, or giant container, that isn’t necessarily green, before I came to the coffee shop with the mermaid at 5:05am).

So, Mrs. Power, my daughters and I were going out of town this one time, to L.A., I think.  So, we asked one of our neighbors to put out the trash, and stuff, to be ready for Tuesday.  You can’t just leave it out there for a week.  It makes you look lazy to your neighbors.  It’s like leaving the Christmas lights up year round, kinda.  That plan backfired – the not looking lazy to our neighbors by asking h/her to put out our trash and stuff because we didn’t want to look lazy by leaving it out for a week plan.                                                                                     Now we look really lazy to at least one of our neighbors.

S/he took the time to sort our, you know, garbage for us.  I feel hesitant to even use the word, t-trash, anymore.  That would be admitting that I have it, tr_ _ _.  When I was a kid, they were “Trash Trucks”.  And “Trash Men”.  You didn’t have to hide the word.   Those trucks and guys were tough too.  As a kid, I would hear their sounds and run out as fast as I could in my blue suede sneakers to watch them in action (now I cringe at the sounds ’cause I probably forgot it was Tuesday and didn’t walk in my plush brown slippers to ready the cans).

Anyways, the neighbor actually went through the glorified can (the little one too), and resorted it all.                                                                                                                         ”How do you know s/he resorted it?  We can assume the contents had been taken away by the time you arrived safely back in Seattle.”                                                                               I know it was resorted because said neighbor left me a 500 word, or more (or less) essay on the finer points of sorting trash (except he didn’t use the word, tr _ _ _); and concluded said essay with the notion that I was going to be fined if I didn’t get my act together.  Really?

I only can dream of that kind of commitment.  Mostly I work from a fear based position. S/he did all of that with nothing really to gain for her/himself.  My neighbor took the time to write that essay knowing it probably wasn’t even going to be read.  I mean, why would his neighbor, Yours Truly, take the time to read an 8 paragraph essay when he doesn’t even care enough to look for that symbol on the mayonnaise jar. You know the one. That symbol show above.

I know you’re saying that I take the time (almost) every day except Sundays when I sleep to write on this blog.  True, but I know I’ve got four avid readers, including my Ma who wonders what happened to me, and is everything OK if I miss a day (that’s motivation enough).  Again, don’t judge me, please.  When I was a kid, green was just a color.

If you’re still reading this, and I assume you are, here’s the point: priorities.

Priorities is a nice word – nicer than “CHANGE”.  Change is a dirty, stinky word:  CHANGE the tire, CHANGE the diaper (change the tr _ _ _  sorting)  It’s scary too.  People are afraid of change.   It can start wars, even.  Unless someone is yelling at you, telling you to, “GET YOUR PRIORITIES STRAIGHT”, priorities doesn’t have that dirty, scary connotation.  It’s almost a euphemism, right?  Well… It really isn’t quite the same as change.  It’s really just an adjustment.

In fact, you don’t even have to change, to change your priorities!  What a relief, eh!         Are you smiling as much as I am right now with this discovery?

You can do it and so can I!  All I have to do is carry out the little can, and roll out the big one, before I go to that one coffee shop with the mermaid to write this post so my Ma doesn’t worry about me, and there you have it.  I’ve changed my priorities.

Isn’t that easy?

The beauty of changing priorities without having to change is, you only have to do one at a time in order to experience a great big sense of success.  And they don’t have to be great big priority changes either.  You don’t even have to call them changes.  You can accurately call them adjustments!  I don’t think we can even always be positive which ones are or aren’t the biggest (or smallest).  Isn’t that great!

And if you’re really fortunate, you’ve got a neighbor like mine who can help you               sort it all out.

Peace,

MPower

Super Week

 I shan’t be writing next Sunday, Super Bowl Sunday, so I will put in my 2 cents here on Super Week Monday.

If you look closely at this ring, you will see a New England Patriots logo.  Purely coincidental.  I just go with what’s in front of me (on Bing images).

Isn’t that ring awesome!  I wonder what it would be appraised at?  What’s it worth.       That ring says it all for a good many people.

Am I envious of that ring? Oh ya!  No doubt about it!!  I envy that ring above nearly anything I could imagine.  I love it!  I covet it!!

Oh, it’s not because I would want to pawn the ring for the money.  Actually pawning it would be dumb in today’s world.  I’d start a bidding war on EBay.  Ya, that’s it, a bidding War!

Cool as that idea is, that’s not why I covet that ring.  I actually couldn’t care less about the monetary value.  Is it because I would have loved being king of the football world – the (real) sport of kings!?  Nope.  Maybe because of the fame and opportunity it brings?Wrong.

What that ring represents to me is the thing I’ve always wanted: a clear playing field.

I’ve always wanted to look down at that goal line, and say.  There it is.  No doubt about it.  Go that way.  That’s your direction.  Your calling is no mystery.

For football players it is not, “What do I do?”  I am a football player.  This isn’t just what I do, it’s who I am.  It’s what I was born to do.  There was never a doubt.  I started playing when my dad threw me that ball in the back yard amid the piles of defeated foes (which were actually piles of fall leaves) after Kindergarten let out.  And I have never missed a single season.  Ahhhh…  How easy life would be.

Sure, if you’re starting at your own 5 yard line, that goal line seems like a long ways away.  Daunting?  You bet.  Could you be hurt, injured, killed even?  Absolutely. Why am I still smiling?  Cause I know my purpose. No question about it.  If I have to punt because I only gained 6 yards instead of ten, due to the fact that 6 or 10 monsters crushed the crap out of me (excuse the language).  Who cares.

Sure there’s frustration, even defeat that day, that month, that year.  But I still get to play.  “There’s always next year!”. I know what I’m going to do tomorrow, next month, next year.  I am a football player.  I even know my position on the team.

I do the job my position asks me to do. I know what the coach needs and wants out of me.  Ambivalence? Ambiguity? Abstraction? Absolutely not.  Do your job. And we’ll go for pay dirt!  That Super Bowl Ring means I’ve done the right thing all along.

Phew!!  All the excitement with all of this football allegory is wearing me out, I can tell you. I might have to go back to bed right after writing this.

Don’t worry, I’m not getting discouraged or depressed.  I know most don’t get the luxury of the Super Bowl Ring.  I’m in good company.  Few of us have a clear goal line to look down at, and go for.  Oh, that’s not making you feel better?  Well, maybe the following will.     Hey, you just keep looking for your playing field?  Let me tell you, you’re already on it!                    Not helping?  OK.  That doesn’t help me either.

Gratitude will heal you.  Just be thankful for everything, and everything will be OK!!  Almost sounds sarcastic when I put it like that.

Here’s the answer…                                                                                                                   Just kidding.  Be very wary of “the answer”.  Any single blogger, preacher, or rapper who is giving you “the answer”, is not. (not the answer).

Something Voltaire wrote about, about 500 years ago might have part of the answer for us.  Coincidentally, it’s surely the same message that the coach of the New England Patriots, Bill Belichick, is giving the Brady bunch this week.  Just Do YOUR Job.

Voltaire put it this way in Candide (not a book for children, btw). Cultivate YOUR Garden.  OK, I’ll give you a little synopsis.  This character, Candide we’ll call him, goes on all these wild adventures all over the world looking for all this fortune and fame – the ring, if you will.  Finally, after many discoveries and successes and failures and near successes and near failures and various unmentionable encounters, he goes back home. Throughout his adventures, he finds more than he ever could have dreamed of.  He did what he was born to do, what he was built to do, what he was called to do: (be an) Adventurer!

And then he goes back home.  What does he find?   Something new.  He finds something new every new day, in fact.  That’s cool!       Every day his playing field changes and grows.  He finds the meaning of life in the simple seed on that home field.

He does the job that is in front of him, and it brings life – to him and to others.

I realize this is only the beginning of what we need for the healing of our immeasurable disappointment with the fact that we’ll never be Super.

Know what, though?  If you do YOUR job, as Voltaire and Belichick exhort you to, you ARE Super.  What’s your job then?  Easy.  Just take a look at your playing field, and cultivate your garden.

Peace,

MPower

Look at this (Dr. Seuss) fox.

See how contented s/he looks?  No, I am not going to talk about androgyny, don’t worry Ma! S/he looks content, obviously, because s/he has found a pair of sox, I mean, socks.

Naturally, socks rhymes with fox

(and the good doctor had to spell correctly ’cause they’re children’s books).  And we never would have know about this fox if s/he had not found it – the other sock.

Because fox does not rhyme with sock.  It rhymes with two of them.  Not “two of them”, it rhymes with a pair, not “a pair”, actually, it rhymes with socks.  Excuse me, but my readers tell me I need to be more clear, or I’ll never get past four (readers).                       Fox rhymes with socks, don’t be deceived by the spelling.  This illustration would not work en Francais, because renard does not rhyme with chaussette.

So, in English, anyway, that fox and the missing sock are both quite famous!

In fact there’s even a laundry mat in the Gramercy neighborhood (NYC – 3rd Ave. W., between 16th and 17th) called, you guessed it: The Missing Sock.  I don’t know why a laundry mat would call themselves that, though..?  I guess losing a sock is so well established that they don’t worry people will think they are admitting their own ineptitude.

When we lived in NYC, we did the laundry drop-off every time.  It was awesome.  I can boast that I did the laundry every week.  Mrs. Power barely had to look at it!  I just threw a family of four into that laundry sack and off I scooted a couple of blocks to that laundry mat (not The Missing Sock laundry mat).  It was sorted by family member, folded, put back in the sack, and Shin and Jae-Sun never lost a sock!  Including walking, the entire chore was done in a hour!

Can you imagine, (Seattle) Queen Anne Moms!?!

What’s the point, Mr. G.?  That’s what they used to call me back in the hood – Mr. G. That’s when I was a Special Ed., and then an English teacher (felt like that was too much to write parenthetically).  That’s when my vocabulary was functioning at a level quite a bit above a children’s book, and I thought of really clever and interesting things to write about, like, “Would you rather be hated or ignored”.  Those were the days when I was admired by the masses and when someone had my back wherever I ventured.

Ahhh, my City of Angels.  What part?  Northwest Pasadena.  That was before we moved to the Big Apple where Shin and Jae-Su were about the only ones who had my back, or at least the clothes off it (I doubt they admired me).

Oh, yes, “What’s the point, Mr. G.?”  The point is, stop living in the past. That’s what “forget the past” means – stop living in it. We can’t forget it, of course.  That would be bad, anyway.     There are plenty of things we need to remember, like that one Christmas and Groundhogs Day.

We need to remember how it felt when we met that special someone, when we saw the shores of Senegal after two and a half months in the wilderness, when we smelled puppy breath for the first time, and that one night when we experienced that lunar eclipse.

Yes, if we forget the past, we forget to be grateful.                                                                But, if we live in the past, we forget gratitude entirely!

You can probably find those Dr. Seuss books if you look hard enough, but you’re never going to get that sock back.                                                                                                   There may not be a lot to be thankful for when we’re down to one sock (and Shin and Jae-Sun are nowhere near).  What can you do with just one sock, after all?                                   I wish I could answer that riddle for you, I really do.                                                                    I can try to “Play God” about as well as I can live in the past; and I can barely help myself when I’m down to one sock.                                                                                                       Here’s what I can do.  I can give you and myself some advice:                                               Be the Fox.  Be crazy like a fox, even.

Be undaunted and unrelenting like The Fabulous Mr. Fox.                                                    Be.  Do whatever you have to do to get a new, or different pair (of socks).

Notice how the illustration of the Dr. Seuss fox depicts h/her reaching the top of a hill; or it could be a mountain, even.  Here I go mixing my metaphors again (that never happened to “Mr. G.”).  But isn’t it more gratifying to find those socks at the mountain top, anyway?

As my father-in-law always says, “You can’t fall off the floor!”                                                So start climbing, again, my friends!

And HEY, my reader, who has recently graduated from the U. feeling unfulfilled…            You might just run into that fox!!

Peace,

MPower