Qwerki Thoughts and Musings at Wordpress

Disturbing the Dog

qwerki1 — Fri, 27 May 2011 04:26:42 +0000

Let sleeping dogs lie. In other words, do not disturb the dog unless you have to. Or unless you know the dog. Or unless the dog is normally a truthful dog, then it is never permissable to let the sleeping dog, (or any dog for that matter) lie. You always want your dog to tell you the truth. If he made the mess on the carpet, don’t let him blame the cat. Of course, vice versa is true and it is not beyond a cat to make a mess and try to blame the dog. I know, I have both cats and dogs.

Anyway, I digress, as oft I do. I have been thinking a lot about my dogs and their demeanor. They are usually pretty serene. Unless a stranger or a cat or a sudden gust of wind or maybe a spectre enters the room; then they are up and at ‘em, barking signals of warning and/or some here, I want to smell you. But that is the way of dogs. Cats of course could care less.

But disturbing the dog, that is something else. Have you ever seen anything more precious than a little dog stretched out across the bed or sofa, sound asleep, dreaming of running in a field, chasing rabbits or most likely, their next meal? They totally shut down and zone out. And if you disturb them by sneezing or shifting in your seat or answering the phone, well, the withering look you get chills you to the bone. Well, really, they probably aren’t cursing. They are probably wondering if you what you doing and if they need to spring into action. Cats on the other hand always adopt a wait and see stance.

I have to admit sometimes I tickle my dog in that special spot I know will make their leg shake. Or I tussle their whiskers because I know it will make them raise their paw to brush off the offending fingers, probably thinking it is a fly or something. They are generally good natured about the disturbance. They know it could lead to a treat or something even better, a walk around the block or a toss of the stuffed skunk.

Now you might think disturbing the dog is a silly passtime for a grown man to indulge himself in. Well, I say nonsense. It has been proven that having pets is one of the best remedies to loneliness or sadness there is. With such unconditional love, how can anyone feel bad for too long? And they depend on humans for everything. That in itself is quite a responsibility. It keeps me going…gets me out of bed in the morning. Dogs want to eat and they want to eat upon rising and you must rise to accomodate them! Cats on the other had, will train you to leave food out all the time so they can constantly graze at their leizure.

So disturbing the dog is not bad at all. I truly believe the dog would prefer to be disturbed from his slumber or barking at the neighbors or whatever else they are doing by the one they know loves and cares for them. They probably don’t think of it as being disturbed at all, but rather being summoned to a higher calling. Can one really be disturbed by love? I think not.

So I will go on disturbing the dog. It will disturb me if I did not. It is a mutual game and we both get so much out of it. And when I lift the dogs up and bundle them in my arms, well, I know there is no better disturbance in the universe than being disbturbed by your dog.

Crauzzing Yur Eyes & Daughtting Yur Tea’s

qwerki1 — Wed, 25 May 2011 16:58:18 +0000

There was a time when cursive writing was drilled into every young first grader. You learned to draw to become accustomed to moving the crayon or pencil on the page to create a picture of what was in your mind’s eye. Then you learned to print letters and then put them in order to create words and eventually make sentences that communicated not only what was in your mind’s eye, but in your heart. Eventually, cursive was introduced because it facilitated faster writing, faster and faster. At first you were careful to write clearly and with attention to ledgibility. There were typewriters of course, but they were not portable. I remember practicing my signature alone for hours. Seeing my name on the page was magical. It was part of my identity.

Then along came computers and word prosessors and now we find ourselves not needing to write much. Cursive is fading into history (oh rue the day!). And when we do write, it is barely ledgible. So we turn to printing. And our signature becomes a scrawl. Pen to paper is I fear becoming a lost art.

This morning I was writing in my morning pages journal. I found myself thinking about the importance of crossing my t’s and dotting my i’s. Without the cross, the t is a pole or an l or a number l. The undotted i is impossible on my computer. Trying writing “it”. If you don’t know it was intended to be “it”, it does not become “it”, just lines on the page that make no sense. I began to get lost is this and found that the words lost there meaning and if you concentrate to intensely on the writing, the writing becomes more than the ideas and thoughts the writing was meant to communicate.

Iyeeee!

So don’t get me started on spelling. As the title of this blog shows, you can still communicate without correct spelling. Grammar, too, seems less important. What I lament is the lost art of writing; art as is caring, paying attention to detail and wanting to create something of lasting beauty or meaning. I know I send these blogs out with errors such as misspellings and unintended bad grammarical sins. That is the nature of blogs. Proofreading is out. Just get your thoughts down and out. For that I am guilty as charged. Call it stream of consciousness or free-flowing falderal. Can you understand what I am saying? Then my communication is successful flaws and all.

So in the end I guess I am saying we can get lost in the crossing of “i’s” and dotting of “t’s”. We can focus on the mechanics and overlook the intent. Both are important. But ultimately it is the message over the vehicle it is delivered in. As they say, its not what’s on the outside that counts, but what’s on the inside. Don’t judge a book by its cover….and so on.

Oh, ya, please don’t hesitate to let me know about glaring errors in grammar or spelling, especially is they are disturbingly bad. I love to write and I love to learn how to do it better!

And the Answer Is…..

qwerki1 — Wed, 25 May 2011 16:57:25 +0000

“There are no answers. There never have been any answers. There never will be any answers…..That is the answer.” Gertrude Stein

If you find an answer, the question disappears, but then the slightest doubt brings it back. Most answers close the mind. If we think we know something, we cut ourself off from other possibilities. There can be more than one answer to any question. There are the answers we are comfortable with and those that we resist and fear. Living in the question may be the only solution.

Learning to learn with uncertainty is what keeps life fresh and vital. Each moment remains an adventure. One may gather clue upon clue along the one’s journey, but each of these clues lead to another question.

The ultimate question for many revolved around the meaning of life and whether there is a God or not. I suspect there is a God and that life indeed has some meaning. In fact I am sure of it, I just don’t know always what the meaning is and what or who God is.

There has to be something that set everything into motion. But who or what? Did we evolve from some spark in a swamp? Maybe. But who or what ignited the spark? My finite mind cannot grasp the concept of God or of a limitless universe either. And how would they co-exist? And what came before the universe? When did it all begin and what was there before that?

Questions. Questions without answers, definitive final answer anyway. But for this there is an answer. The answer is living in the questions and trusting that there is a power in the universe greater than ourselves that is beyond our comprehension. And then another “answer” would be that some things just are and there is no explanation. God is. We are. Life is. Nothing more, nothing less.

Maybe it is the beautiful sunshine on this Wednesday morning as I write this. Perhaps it is the book I am reading, The Divinity of Doubt by Vincent Bugliosi. Perhaps it is a deep longing for meaning. And then I come back to knowing all that I have and am is I created in some way. And it is also accepting that I create nothing. So then I just get out of the way, open my heart and mind to all the possibilities and accept what is and what can be. Nothing more, nothing less. Just one ultimate truth: I am and that I am within the Great I Am.

“The whole is greater than the sum of the parts” — Aristotle Who am I to question with that? Once again I have found the answer is always in the question.

Take Note: The Benefits of Writing Things Down

qwerki1 — Mon, 23 May 2011 21:55:36 +0000

So it seems writing it down helps. I mean, if you see me writing things down at a meeting, it is because I am trying to focus on what is being said and remembering the points covered. I may never do anything with my notes, but it certainly helps me to focus on what is being said, but writing it down. And because I am writing it down as things are being discussed or presented, I can remain focused on what is being said. It keeps me from drifting off and thinking about the way the speaker combed his hair or the manner in which the questioner always flicks her hair back when she ends the question.

Writing it down does help me to remember what I went to the grocery store for. It helps even when I leave the list at home it seems. The act of writing actually creates some sort of mind-body connection so that when I see what I wrote on the list before leaving home, something clicks and I know that is what I intended to get. It doesn’t help me not do impulse buying. I will always succumb to the lure of ice cream or chips if I am hungry or feeling deprived. That can only be mitigated by being sure I am not hungry before going to the store or psyching myself up to know that you cannot buy happiness on the snack aisle.

When I am setting out to go somewhere I have never been, it is important for me to write the directions down. Again, the mind-body connection somehow stays with me even when I leave the house and get to the corner and realize I left the directions sitting on the kitchen counter (again). Somehow in the reptilian part of my brain the act of writing the directions out sufficed to help me find my way. Note: I do find it also works to a certain degree to print out the directions from Google maps or Mapquest and read them. Like written directions, I almost always leave them home, but generally recognize the prompts to turn left or right on my way. If not, I always enjoy going into strange places I’ve never seen before.

Finally, every morning I do something called Morning Pages. It was an exercise I learned in the workshop I attended last year called The Artist’s Way. Upon rising if the dogs will wait for breakfast, you grab your secret journal and do three pages of mind dumping. All your little monkey-mind is chattering about is spilled onto the page. Your “to do’s” and “should-do’s” and “reasons you can’t or don’t want to-do’s” are to just be written down. No censors. You write what your critics (Mom, teachers, former lovers, cranky-pants neighbors, government officials) have said to you that you hear in your head when you set out to do something. Just letting it all flow onto the page is what it is all about. This clears the channels for your creativity and lets the critics have their say and then retreat. It works. It really does.

So maybe that is why I enjoy this blog thing. Just about every day I write a blog about something that amuses me, causes me to think or in just something I have observed. Writing is engaging your active side. It is not passive like watching TV or sleeping. It is overcoming the inertia that sometimes keeps you from doing what you really want to do with your time and ultimately your life.

“The longest journey starts with a single step.” – Lao-tzu

For me, picking up the pen or tapping on the keyboard is just what I need to start the flow. I didn’t like Dr. Laura much in her latter years, but there was something she always said at the end of her show that I think we need to train our inner voices to say. If it can come from someone we know and respect (even if just in our minds) it would go a long way toward making the day a success. Dr Laura always said, “Now, go take on the day!” Imagine if your hero said that to you every morning! Well, I may not be your hero, but you can say it to yourself and I to myself right now: “Hey, you can do it! Now, go take on the day!” Maybe we can be our own hero!

The End of the World

qwerki1 — Sun, 22 May 2011 02:40:00 +0000

Well, the world didn’t end again today. Surprise. Actually, that’s just it: if it were to end, it would be a surprise. Somehow I think if God were to declare the time to end the world is now, he would make it so and not fiddle about with far-fetched, hard to prove nebulous prophecies. The bottom line from my perspective is God does not want us to know when the world is going to end. I believe he calls on us to live each day as if it were our last. If we all did that, perhaps the world would be a better place. But then again, a lot of people seem to be living as if today were their were their last days with no regard to where they will be a few years from now, a few days, or even a few minutes.

So what do we do with this situation? Well, I am hard pressed to even venture a guess. Just live as best we can I guess. We can wait for the end of the world. We can scare ourselves silly with fears about being left behind or we can live as if we were going to die tomorrow and be the highly evolved persons we were surely meant to be. We could dispel evil and denounce those so-called satanic impulses. We could, and this is quite radical, do unto others as we would have them to undo us. That rule is truly golden.

Here is a link to a brief synopsis of the Golden Rule as it appears in many of the world’s great religions and philosophies:

The Golden Rule in Religion and Philosophy .

Amazing, huh? It has been preached probably since the beginning of time. And sometimes I think it will go unheeded by most until the end of time…as we know it.

So I guess that is why it is good every once in a while to be reminded of just how temporal our world and, in fact, our being might be. Not only could the rapture come and destroy life as we know it, it could be brought on by our own actions. Now that is something to think about, something to remember as we go about our daily lives. Every moment could be our last.

Well, I guess we dodged another bullet. The world did not end today. Next up: December 21, 2012, the end of the Mayan calendar. Maybe it will be just another Y2K footnote in history. But just in case, maybe we better start living as if it meant something, as if it mattered how we treated others and ourselves. Just something to keep in mind as we continue on this journey together. But I do have one request: can we just quit trying to scare ourselves to death? Death will come soon enough. Let’s just devote our time to living…and living as God (or whoever) intended us to.

Who Am I to Judge?

qwerki1 — Fri, 20 May 2011 04:08:00 +0000

On this day in 1992 Vice President Dan Quayle cited Murphy Brown (Candice Bergen on the TV show) as a ‘poor example of family values.” 19 years have passed and it seems little has changed. People still think they have the right to pass judgement on others for their life choices. Sure, maybe they are not ideal, but what is in life? Things happen and it could have been worse…much worse.

Forgive me a little rant here. I just think it is nobody’s role to proscribe what family values are. If there were a universally acceptable set of family values, wouldn’t the world be a hunky dory place? Yes, we have the right to make known what we feel are values we hold to be true….for us and ours. But we have no right to force those values on others. None. And we certainly have no right to legislate them.

Now, that said, what happens to society if we do not hold forth some spectrum of values that life not only ourselves up, but those of humanity in general. But where shoudl these values come from? My question here would be: What ever happened to personal responsibility? Is it not the job of parents and guardians to teach their children right from wrong? Should we not lead by example by living those values we hold to be self-evident?

Now back to Murphy Brown. 19 years have indeed passed. She was not the first woman on TV to have a child out of wedlock. (Haven’t heard that phrase “out of wedlock” in a while?) She had no intention of having a baby, but when she found herself pregnant (there was a time when they didn’t use that word on TV?) she decided to KEEP the baby. And in 1992 there were options. How come she wasn’t lauded for the act of keeping the baby and raising up? She was a woman who could afford help, etc., and it did create a whole new comedic arc on the show (remember Eldin the painter/nanny?).

VP Quayle further criticized the character and show for “ignoring the importance of fathers by birthing a child alone”. I don’t remembe that being the case. And how would it benefit the child to be raised by parents who were not committed to each other?

Oh, I don’t usually rant like this and I apologize for departing from my usual light musings and thoughts. But for some reason when I saw a list of events that happened on this day in history, it set me off. No, I don’t believe single-parenthood is the best situation for raising a child. I suppose Murphy could have given her, (what’s that term they used to call children born out of wedlock?), up for adoption. But she didn’t. What she did was cause people to think about family values and what that term really means.

And the point of this little rant is: how far have we really come? Maybe the terminology is not the same, but don’t we still spend too much time passing judgement on others while letting our own moral code and personal values go unexamined?

But then, who am I to judge?

So How’s That Working for You?

qwerki1 — Thu, 19 May 2011 06:20:00 +0000

Well once again I have done it. What you say? I have gone to the same abandoned well, the well that dried up years ago and dropped a bucket in anyway. Of course the bucket hit the dry bottom and, well, when I pulled it back up, it was empty. Not a drop. Why do I do this? Why do I go to the same dry well and try to get what I know is not there?

It’s like trying to get blood from a turnip. But I don’t care for turnips, so I won’t go there.

Seriously, though. Just when I think I have learned that lesson, the lesson that inspiration cannot be found where there is none, I find myself trying again. And then the voice in my head says (sounding a lot like Dr. Phil on TV), “How’s that working for you?”

How is that working for me? Not working at all, of course. I know that some fights are not worth fighting. There is no way to win. None at all. The only winning comes in reclaiming my sanity, my dignity and moving on. And yet something pulls me back in. And just like stepping into quicksand, the struggle to get out starts again.

Albert Einstein had it right. ”Doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results” is the definition of insanity. And it is true, you cannot be restored to health until you admit you have a problem and need help. Twelve step rule number one: Admitted we were powerless over our ______ (fill in the blank) – that our lives had become unmanageable. Until you know you have a problem, you cannot hope to overcome it.

So when will I stop doing the same thing over and over and expect different results? Well, I am better than I used to be. And I do recognize that somethings just are not going to change, so I release and let go. I continue to participate in what are sometimes crazy-making situations, but now I know they are just that: crazy making. And then I remember what I hope to accomplish and, because I am a little insane I guess, refuse to give up that hope.

“Once you choose hope, anything’s possible.” ~Christopher Reeve

I choose hope…no matter how impossible the odds.

The Value of Remaining Incomplete

qwerki1 — Tue, 17 May 2011 16:31:00 +0000

I always feels rather incomplete. Surely there is something I can do, I often think to myself, to dispel this feeling of not being “done” or “finished”. But then I remember being told and actually singing a song about how I am “whole, complete and perfect” just the way I am. So is perfection in being imperfect? Does remaining incomplete make me, well, complete?

I think yes it does.

Circles in Clouds in Circles

A circle is complete in itself. A cloud floats through the sky unlike any other cloud with all its puffs and gaps, irregular outlines and changing silhouettes for all to see. The circle is smooth and clean and well defined. The cloud is serene in its movements toward the horizon. Both are whole, complete and perfect. Yet neither remains still. The circle as Johnny Cash sang may remain unbroken, but it revolves around itself, keeping the inner space safe and the outer space out. The cloud will drift or race across the sky, shading the earth from the sun or dropping water on a thirsty world. Eventually both will be dispelled into the universe and return in yet another form.

dis·pel
verb /disˈpel/
1. Make (a doubt, feeling, or belief) disappear
2. Drive (something) away; scatter
as defined in Merriam-Webster

Dispel is one of those words that is often misspelled, as in the word misspelled. Maybe that is because they both are words that come from a certain uncertainty. Now there is the answer maybe! Can we ever dispel uncertainty? Can we ever be absolutely certain of anything? We can only have faith and can only trust that there is something more to all of this than meets the eye. It is when we can learn to live in the Question that we begin to learn to appreciate the incompleteness of our lives. Life should, I believe, remain incomplete. If it is not complete, what is there left for us to do but lay down and die?

There is the answer: there is no answer. At least there is no One Answer other than we were made whole complete and perfect by Something or Someone much greater than ourselves and we it is our incompleteness and imperfections that make life worth living.

And so it is.

The Chinese Symbol for
Perfect

More Than Just Monday, A State of Mind

qwerki1 — Mon, 16 May 2011 16:42:00 +0000

Tell me its not Monday!

IT’S MONDAY!!! LOOK OUT!!!!

But more than Monday, its a new week. Its time to wake up and smell the coffee (again). Every week. Maybe that is why Monday is such a dreaded day. The freedom of the weekend, the day trips and movies and church services and yard work, all done on your schedule usually, are over for another week. Its back to the routine.

I wonder if he’s dead.
Who will feed me?

I thought all that would end when I retired from the County. Not. I still have a routine. I wake up on Mondays and think about all I need to do or should be doing or want to do. Of course most of it can be done on my own schedule ideally. Like this morning I was able to sleep in, but Tater Totte worried I wouldn’t get up to feed her.

So I got up. The daily routine is now check e-mail & Facebook (obessive I know), through on some clothes, feed the anymyls, take TT and Ching Ching for a walk, then come home and work on….well, work on something like my blog, my book, my bills. Strange, they all start with “b”. But I digress.

Yes, its Monday. It is not only the first day of the week, but, as the old saw goes, it is the first day of the rest of your life. And the older you get, the more your realize just how important that day is.

So next in the routine is to water outside, sweep and make the bed. Let the fun begin. Its all fun if you set your mind that way. Otherwise as was once said,

who cares if school keeps? Life will go on without me if I let it. I don’t plan to let it.

Mondays make me pensive.

Interruptions

qwerki1 — Mon, 16 May 2011 03:23:00 +0000

Interruptions. They happen all the time. Just when you think there is smooth sailing ahead, something rocks the proverbial boat. And it is often distressing, somewhat diverting and always delaying the forward mementum of your life.

Recently there was a disruption in the service of the blog service where I write this blog. It was frustrating not to keep my commitment to myself to write my thoughts and musings five days a week. What saved me I suppose is that I didn’t really tell anyone that was my plan. So the interruption in service caused no disruption in my commitment. Or so I deluded myself into thinking.

I was fooling myself all along. A promise to myself is just as important as a promise to anyone else. Really, truly, it is. Why, then, do I do this? Probably because there was no risk of being held accountable. Or what there?

Every day there are things that cause hitches in our git-along. Service failures. Power outages. Traffic jams. Rain. Sun. Wind. Heat. Cold. You name it, it can keep you from getting where you are going. There are times you set out on a fun day with your friends and you are sure you can keep up. But then your stamina begins to wane. Your aging body rebels in a fit of pain. You don’t want to admit you need to sit or even call a cab. You suffer in silence and that, of course, interrupts your good time and, potentially, your friendship when they don’t understand what’s going on. Bad communication interrupts good relationships.

Interruptions. Pledging to work on that book. Making plans to go out of town for a special birthday celebration. Committing to do perform a project and then procrastinating until it is too late to do your very best. Interruptions.

Sometimes we forget all we’ve learned and old habits come careening back onto your living. They interrupt all the progress you have made. But the good thing is that is all they are: interruptions. No dead ends unless you choose to call them that. Every problem a challenge. Every goal, attainable.

Interruptions: an act of delaying or interrupting the continuity*. But it doesn’t have to end anything and that is something I strive to remember always.