Author: Philo

human

Dreams

I have a dream

Dreams

To dream of making a dream a reality takes foresight, hope, imagination and a vision. To make a dream a reality takes those things, but it also takes a hefty dose of courage, hard work, money, and willingness to give up comfort in most of its forms. This is why it is easy to dream, but difficult to live your dream.

Be ready to smile when your friends, your family, and most others remind you of how many ways there are to fail, how good you have it and how you should “give it a second thought…” or how it is simply impossible. These will be bumps in the road in comparison to the endless work and hours, to the face of poverty staring in your window, the relentless pummeling that you will take physically and mentally. Make no mistake, to make a dream a reality you must give up the dream…but only almost.

I say “almost” because dreams are not made to be broken. Live your dream!

If you have a dream first make your mind up to do it. Secondly…do it. It really is that simple. Afterwards, don’t look back.

Regrets

To have regrets is easy: take the path most travelled, bury your hope and your imagination; your vision. To make your regret a reality takes those things, but it also takes a hefty dose of fear, making decisions based upon what others advise, and willingness to give up your dreams. This is why it is easy to forget your dreams, but difficult to live with that decision.

Be ready to smile when your friends, your family, and most others remind you that you could of, or should have if only had. These will be bumps in the road in comparison to the endless days, months and years of remembering the dream, the face of comfort staring in your window, and the relentless pummeling that you will take as you wake up at night and realize that they were right. Make no mistake, to make your regrets a reality you must give up the dream…completely.

I say “completely” because regret lasts a lifetime.

If you have regrets, first recognize them as regrets. Secondly…change them. It really is that simple. Afterwards, don’t look back.

Vacation

 

vacation pic

I’ve never really enjoyed taking a vacation. The time, to me, seems ill-spent and empty. I wonder about this: is there something wrong with me, or do I simply need to “relax”? I don’t think so. I think that there is something more going on. Vacation implies the lack of work, but the lack of work is not necessarily a good thing unless, of course, you don’t like your work.

 

Now I’m not a great fan of polls and statistics, but to make a point here, more than 70% of Americans do not like their jobs! If that is the case, then I can certainly see why so many people put a price upon free time. But I don’t think that makes vacation a positive thing. Vacation is only seen in a positive light if you don’t like your job. Perhaps a better approach than dreaming of beach vacations and beer drinking debauchery is to simply do something that you like to do.

 

I love my job, and I am in the process of transitioning into another job that I believe I will love even more. This is what some in my family would call a “luxury dilemma”. I would have to concur. The dilemma, however, cannot be solved by taking a vacation but must be solved by doing some work. Research and development attitudes must be taken; assessing risk and defining responsibility must be clarified. Economic outcomes and expenses must be taken into consideration. This all sounds like work, and that is because it is.

 

I often hear people dreamily wave around the idea of “never working again”, but I firmly believe that they would be miserable after about two weeks. Work defines us, and not having work is in a sense losing one’s self. I am aware that in our modern and progressive societies we have been conditioned to define as work tedious tasks and mundane bureaucratic business. Often we have become nothing more than monkeys in a box looking longingly out sealed windows. We have defined work by profit rather than work by principle, and I think this is where the problem is. We must work for reasons other than making a profit.

 

I am not saying that we need to give the responsibility of our lives over to someone or something else. However, I am saying that our relentless hunt for more money is making us (and many others) miserable. Vacation entails time to be free from work, but this is only a problem if we do not have a job that we would do for free. Being honest with yourself is often difficult, but is always free. Maybe we need to remember that time is easy but is never free. In fact, it may be the most expensive thing we have.

The Choices We Make

 

choices

When I chose to get a dog from the pound about five years ago, little did I know of the ritual that would soon become my life. Every morning up at 5:30 and after the coffee cup hits the coffee table for the final time, a nudge (toy in mouth) and off we go for our morning walk. In the afternoon after work another walk, work in the woodshop or in the garden, and some playing in the yard until it is time to eat. Then, off to the favorite bed she goes watching the house from her favorite perch.

The choice to get a dog from the pound has obvious implications. My life has changed, but so has hers. I made a choice, and that choice has brought me as well as my dog a great deal of happiness. These are the choices we make, and we continually make. Other choices that we make do not always have obvious implications.

When I choose to go to the grocery store (the walk of shame as I call it), or to buy something at the local hardware store the choices we make there also have implications. However, those implications are not always as clear as bringing a dog into your life. There are animals that pay a high price for the choices we make. We make choices for many reasons, but those reasons should always be clear to us as well as the consequences of the choices we make.

An easy choice is not always the right choice, and those choices that we deem as difficult should not always be difficult. We can choose to do the right thing, but to simply do the right thing takes time, it is a habit that we must acquire. I believe that most of us know what the right choice is but are often tempted by the easy and swayed by the convenient. Our choices become others and not our own.

Perhaps it’s time to take our choices back, but this too is a choice; at least for now.

Simple Pleasures

pleasure

There’s something beautiful about seeing bees come out on a winter’s day. Walking out to the bee yard I noticed a few girls flying around. Although the sky was grey, it was just warm enough for a few brave hearts to venture outside. It is a simple pleasure, I know, but a pleasure nevertheless.

It is pleasures like this that make life worth living. It does not take money; in fact money alone is void of the kind of pleasure that is available if we just take time to notice. The garden, newly manured, sitting in the snow reminds me that there are worms deep under the soil. My ear up against the beehive and the scratching and buzzing that I hear, reminds me that we all want the same thing: a safe, warm place.

Perhaps it is this realization that warms my heart on cold winter days. When I realize the beauty that is nature I just have to stop and stare in wonderment. I think that it would be a much better world if we all took time to stand and stare in wonderment at the simple and often forgotten corners of our world.

In the back I hear chickens clucking away. I know that they are fussing about the snow, and perhaps feel a bit of cabin fever already. But they too venture out picking around in the snow, hoping to find a morsel, or maybe just doing it out of curiosity.

I like the smell of a kitchen that people cook in. I like the warmth of a home, and the cold against my face on an early morning walk. I like knowing that we all have a place, all animals; all living creatures. I like to think that there are places that are safe, that people want the best and are willing to work for it. I like to think that there is love in the world, and that there are those that are loved.

I know that these are simple pleasures, but as simple as they are, they are also simply priceless. And so I walk out back and stick my hand down in the dirt, I work on winter carpentry projects with the hope of the coming Spring and Summer. I put my ear up against the hive. I do these things and a smile comes to my face; just another simple pleasure to be thankful for.

 

Two Sides of a Coin

two sides of a coin

Money is typically defined as anything of value. Money is often used as a means of barter, trade, and for transactions. And so money is not often valued for itself, but for what it can get us. Money, then is useful, but not necessarily valuable. In thinking of this, I realize that there are two sides to every coin.

It seems that much time and effort is spent in trying to become rich in order to buy things that are not necessarily valuable or useful using something that is not necessarily valuable. This seems strangely  a waste (rather than a valuable)  of our time. However, most of us live our lives by this axiom; most of us.

The recent upswing in locavore, organic, self-sustainability and other descriptive ways of living seem to be motivated not by money, but by something far more valuable: happiness. The motivation to turn away from money to “do what’s right”, or to “be more healthy” seems to have its basis in virtue.

Virtue is a philosophical ethical theory founded upon a moral education, which is considered by Aristotle as a good in itself because such a life leads to a higher quality of happiness. Without getting into the philosophy too much, the value of living such a life is found in actually living that life. Money is not valuable in itself. However, living a life of virtue is.

So, one side of the coin seems to be the motivation to be happy, and the other side of the coin seems to be the kind of happiness that matters: the quality of our happiness. Money seems to abide by one side of the coin, but not to the other. Don’t get me wrong; I think that money is a viable tool, a useful means to live comfortably and securely. But I’m not sure that it is the best means.

The current movement towards more viable and sustainable agricultural methods and cultural beliefs is certain to lead to jobs and opportunities that are yet to be seen. But these movements do seem to be good in themselves as well.  We have to be careful. On the one hand, money is a motivator for our dreams, but on the other hand money often undermines the dream itself. Perhaps what we must always remember is that what is useful is often not what is valuable, and what is valuable is not always useful: there are always two sides to a coin.

This Old Hat

old hats

I have an old hat that a friend of mine used to wear.  Now it’s faded and the threads are starting to wear thin.  I’ve washed it a few times, always by hand, but every time I wash it, it seems to get weaker.  My friend, Turid, was from Norway.  She died a few years back of a brain tumor.  When her hair fell out she wore this hat to keep her head warm.  Now I wear it to keep my head warm.

I can’t say that it’s the best looking of hats.  It was bought in the airport in Oslo; kind of a last minute thought.  It’s come a long way from the rack in an airport kiosk.  It is probably my favorite hat, but when I wear it there are many that make fun of me.

“You look like a fisherman in that hat!” they’ll say.

Or, “That’s kinda funky…”

Or, “Have you thought about buying another hat?!”

I smile; they mean no harm.  But, I think of what they’d say if I told them the story of Turid and the hat.  I never do, because I learned from Turi to never say anything that might make people feel bad, if you don’t have to.

I suppose that I could quit wearing the hat and put it up in a special place, a box or frame, to remember her by.  But I’m fairly certain that she would frown upon such a scheme.  “A hat is to be worn…” she might say, “So, wear the hat!”  And I do.

Of course, I’m attached to the hat; it means a lot for obvious reasons, but it has come to stand for more than it means.  I am committed to the hat, one may say.  There are new, and better hats, but none quite so good as this one.  There are warmer hats, and hats that cover my ears on cold days, but none quite so comforting as this hat.

Turid died some years ago, but I had the pleasure of meeting her parents in Bergen Norway, as well as her children.  Her parents made a mark on me; a mark that people rarely make.  They were honest and sincere, and we hit it off right off the bat.  They had dignity and integrity; they had character and were committed.  They were set in ways, not because of tradition, but because the ways were trustworthy, practical, and utilitarian: they are simply right.

Although I only met them for a few hours one night, Turid’s mother hugged me (very un-Norwegian), and told me to take care of Gunnar (Turid’s husband, also a good friend of mine).  Her father showed me his old woodworking bench, worn by years of use.  He, like I have become, was committed.

So, the hat and I have a history and it has become a part of my history.  I love this old, ugly hat but in a way that only those who understand the importance of committing one’s self to something inherently good can do.  I think it’s funny how some cheap, stitched up airport hat can become a treasure and I wonder about those who make a treasure out of things they are not committed to.  This old hat has at least taught me that, and it keeps my head warm enough for all that.

Head or Heart

head or heart

This is part of an old saying: follow your heart. But when I think to follow my heart, my assumption is that in doing so things will somehow “magically” work out. I do realize, perhaps because I listen to my head, that following my heart means a lot of work, a lot of compromise, and as I am beginning to understand: a lot of courage.

Let’s be realistic! Dreams are often best left as such. But following your heart often demands that we forget that fact. In fact, it is often best to do so. I’m sure that many people have realized that much too late. When the dream becomes a nightmare of endless nights, lack of money, and no way out it becomes difficult to remember that it was the heart that got us into the pickle in the first place.

But like love, the heart is a fickle thing, and to truly follow the heart, to make that dream a reality (nightmares and all), often means to follow many paths least followed; often for good reason. When I think of following my heart I always remember that we wake from our dreams and that nightmares end. I remember that money is often found at the end of rainbows.

Perhaps the head or heart question, when I ask it, is already answered and I simply don’t realize it? It’s good to remember that unlike the head, the heart does not ask for permission, directions, or if a dream makes sense or not. The heart is the two year old that we all have inside of us that follows the floating paper in a brisk wind, stumbling down the road with only one goal in mind.

So, the question: do I follow my heart or do I follow my head is in fact a meaningless question because as soon as it has been asked, it has been answered. To not realize this little fact is to live with regret, but only the heart realizes this.

a Dead Leaf

a dead leaf

Fall is often looked upon as the end of summer. In fact, as I ride around the area where I live, I see everyone sweeping up the remains of the summer: the leaves on the ground, now brown, yellow, and red. They bag these remnants up and leave them on the curb to be picked up. The trees stand lifeless and the mess which is nature is uncovered for all to see. It is as if we hide behind the fullness of life until our secrets are revealed with the death of a leaf. However, a dead leaf is much more than the end; it is in fact, the future.

I cannot stand the sight of leaves being crushed in the middle of streets under the tires of cars. This unconscious act seems to denigrate the value of death because it is often seen as the end. The leaves have done their job and are discarded, unimportant and we busy ourselves “cleaning up” the mess left behind without thinking of the cost. The trees sometimes seem disgraced in their gnarly nakedness; nothing left to the imagination. However, it is the fallen leaves that hold the future and our lack of imagination the dooms us to repeat the mistakes that we seem to believe justified.

Gardens in the fall do not help. Our gardens have produced and are now left flat and unappealing; the dirt mocking the very labor that we have spent the summer on. The end is all around us and we sweep it into bags and under the eaves of the house. We prune the leftovers almost wishing that no one will notice the seeming ugliness that we uncover.

The fall is not the end, but the beginning. A dead leaf is much more than the end, or even a representation of the end, it is the beginning. In fact, the deadness of the leaf is only an illusion because it is the life that it holds that counts. The dead leaf holds the key to the future. It is such a simple concept; an endless cycle of birth and rebirth, Buddhist in its nature. I picked up a leaf before throwing it into the shredder and looked upon its brown acquiescence. I thought as I threw it into the machine that it was at my mercy. But I was wrong: it is the other way around.

We are at the mercy of the fall and what it promises us. The fall is in fact the beginning of what will be. The labor of the summer is a direct consequence of our understanding that it is we that are at the mercy of the leaves in the fall. It is they that hold the answers and them that hold our future. Within the thin, crackly membrane of a dead leaf is the necessities of life. If we do not understand this, we are in fact, doomed.

So, grab those black bags that hold so much; rip them open and spill their precious contents over your garden, over your lawn, over your land. Remember, the land will only give back as much as we let it. The dead leaf that you crumple in your hand is a deciding factor not only for your garden, but for our lives. A society that does not value the importance of a dead leaf, is a society that is unable to value the importance of a sustainable life.

Freedom of Food

canned food

When I first began finding the joys and understanding the necessity of growing my own food, I hurriedly began finding the necessity and understanding the joys of canning my own food. After all, what good is a garden if what it produces goes to waste.

Canning is pretty straight-forward and does not rely upon refrigeration. The basic principles are the same no matter what you can, but I really enjoy canning tomatoes, red cabbage, and beets. It’s a nice feeling to open the cupboards of your kitchen and look over the summer’s work. Also, it’s a great thing to look forward to all the freshly canned food that you will have when you are working on those hot, summer days in the garden.

So, get your canning on!

  1. Grow your own food without pesticides or artificial fertilizer.
  2. Pick, eat what you want, and save the rest.
  3. When ready, get some heat-resistant bottles for canning
  4. Boil the lids and bottles for at least 15 minutes.
  5. Prepare the food to be canned.
  6. Always, always make sure everything is clean, clean, clean.
  7. After canning the veggies, boil the newly bottled veggies for about 10 more minutes.
  8. Take the canned food out and listen for the wonderful  “pop” of the lid.
  9. Try different recipes, or just can some veggies.
  10. Mark the tops with the date including the year.

There are some important things to be aware of. First, some of your canning endeavors will fail. This is called compost in the canning world. Secondly, some of your recipes will not taste as good as you’d like. You have two options: compost or creativity. Mix some of these with other foods and sometimes you’ll be surprised.

I have read that growing your own food and putting it up is the ultimate revolutionary act and have found through the years found this to be true. So, if you want to taste true freedom, true self-sustainability, and experience what I would equate with being human, grow and can your own food!

It’s an amazing sense of freedom and the food, well, it tastes great!

Fear, Power, Clarity, and Old Age

fear_clarity_power_oldage_blog

Many, many moons ago I read a series of books by Carlos Castaneda. The books were not that good, although this is something that realized only long after I had read them. But, like many things I’ve learned since then, we can learn things from the most surprising of places. Castaneda’s books presented an idea of life that I have not since forgotten.

In a discussion with a wise, old Indian, Castaneda finds that we have four enemies in life: fear, power, clarity, and old age. I have since thought much about these enemies. Now that life has presented me with yet another challenge, they come to mind again. The story is similar to many of the stories we learn to not disregard so quickly.

The first enemy, fear, is the easiest enemy to understand, and when we understand fear, we have in fact defeated it. The problem with these enemies is that they never tire in their attacks. When we have defeated fear, then comes power. Power is often thought of as enlightenment but it is trickster. Power is not enlightenment, but blind capability. We must defeat power by understanding that it is an illusion. But power, like fear, never tires in its attack.

Clarity, or enlightenment, is the prize in overcoming the illusion of power. But enlightenment, like the other enemies, is a precarious path that we must take care when we follow it. Arrogance (power) is often the result of careless enlightenment. Dogma is the result when we cease to ask questions. When we cease to ask questions fear begins its work. When we come to realize that we have completed the circle, only to begin again, we are often too old to correct mistakes; we can never defeat old age.

And so it is with a particular endeavor that I now spend time fearing, overcoming, understanding, and again fearing. It seems that the only thing left is to grow old, but I need to grow old at least trying, even if failure is the only option. I have a dream that I fear because I know that I have the power to achieve it because I am aware of the work required. I am only left with the time to do it, and that is running shorter every minute of the day.

Carpe Diem