Not With a Bang, but a Whimper

I understand that the year 2012 is going to be the end of the world.  We know this because that's when the Mayan calendar ends.  If I'm not mistaken, our own calendar ends on December 31, this year!  Not to stir up a panic but shouldn't somebody be looking into this, or at least trying to sell the movie rights?

Come to think of it, though, our calendar ended on December 31 last year too and the world didn't end, we just got Change.  Maybe that's all 2012 will bring as well.  Boy, wouldn't that be a relief!

Just for arguments sake, let's say that 2012 doesn't simply bring change, but indeed the end of the world.  I think we can all agree that the end of the world could be devastating to earths fragile ecosystem.  I'm no expert in biodiversity, few actually are, but I would venture to guess that all life coming to an abrupt end is not in our best interest.

Sure, some may argue that the end of the world is just another cycle in the eons of time.  I hear the same thing about global warming too.  They say it's just weather cycles and that humans couldn't be causing global climate change.  Hogwash!  I go outside everyday and I've felt the warming.  Particularly between the hours of 6 AM to 5 PM.  It's scary!  I've started wearing a coat around to insulate me from the effects of the changing climate because the anxiety is messing with my mind to the point that it actually feels colder!

Coincidentally, the solution to preventing the end of the world is similar to stopping global climate change.  It's the "fight fire with fire" approach.  Before the world ends we must do everything we can to destroy the human race.  If there are no humans, then there will be nobody to document the ending of the world and, therefore, it won't happen.  Likewise, if there are no humans then nobody will be bothered by the rising oceans and sub-tropical weather in the Tundra. 

Now I know this approach won't be popular, but most conservation groups agree that this is the elephant in the room that nobody wants to acknowledge.  Regardless, it comes to this, we must either destroy our lives or face inevitable destruction.  I know it sounds morbid, but studies show (I just conducted two scientific surveys of everyone sitting in my chair and the results were unanimous) that there is far more satisfaction in destroying our own quality of life than in taking the chance of something else destroying it for us.

However, there has recently been some promising news from the moon.  Apparently the surface of the moon is able to absorb incredible amounts of energy without even so much as a poof of smoke.  It was widely documented recently on television when millions watched in anticipation and delight as we slammed a missile into the moon at twice the speed of Superman.  The stunned faces and inaudible cheers told the story that the fruit of countless man hours and millions of dollars was ... nothing!  Miraculous!

So, before the world ends, my suggestion is that we all go to the moon, because nothing happens there and that is exactly the kind of life we all want.  Obviously I am anxious to stake my property in the best crater, however, there are many who have been working tirelessly to forewarn us about the disastrous effects of our past prosperity.  I should be a gentleman.  Therefore, to all those who's hearts have bled over dwindling  polar ice caps, please be my guest and take the first available renewable energy powered vessel to the moon!

My Tree of Life

When I think about my life I try to imagine it as a mosaic made up of many different characteristics, each with a different personality and purpose.  I try to imagine my mosaic forming a picture, maybe a professional athlete or a logger.  I mean, who doesn't want to be a logger?

Oddly enough, though, my mosaic ends up looking less like a logger and more like a tree.  I can't explain it but I can tell you one thing, I've never been so grateful for the spotted owl.  

In my case, my tree starts from hope.  I think most peoples' trees start with hope but sometimes they try to replace hope with something like ambition or desire.  While those can be good, I'm not sure they offer enough strength to make it through all that life can bring.  Hope is the best for me anyway.

The best parts of my life are derived from hope.  I'll try to explain it but please remember that I'm a very simple person and therefore I don't really have the right words to describe the tree that I imagine in my mind.  That being said, I'll do my best to do it justice.

Hope gave me adventure.  From adventure I have gained the ability to imagine entirely different worlds and to see this world, not as it is, but as it can be.  Like most adventures, mine is unpredictable and often hard to understand in the moment.  Only when looking back can I fully grasp the incredible experiences and knowledge  I have gained from adventure.  Adventure gives my tree variety and originality.  I am always proud to go along with the adventure that has come to me.

Hope gave me courage.  When I imagine all of the wonderful things in life that I may never be able to experience, courage shows me that nothing is impossible.  Going through life is confusing and everything I do seems to only make things more difficult.  Although my best efforts are never enough and misunderstanding hampers the way, courage moves me forward and makes me do my best anyway.  Courage can make it through the darkest times where nothing makes sense and desperately grasping for safety appears to others as defiance and ingratitude.  Yet after the trials, courage makes you forget the hard times and cherish the blessings that are gained.

Hope gave me joy.  Joy is the heart of all good things.  There is no unhappiness that joy can't overcome and even when negativity fills my thoughts I can always remember my joy.  Joy makes me want to be a better person and look for the good in everyone and everything.  Joy is a kindred spirit to hope and they often go hand in hand.  I am thrilled when an expression of my joy can bring happiness to others, although I'm often reluctant to share. 

Anything is possible when adventure, courage and joy go together.  Like a great paradox, they bring me stress and peace, anxiety and exhilaration.  Adventure usually leads the way, with courage and joy following closely behind.  Although, sometimes it seems that they are all going in different directions.  Adventure takes me to the brink of my sanity, courage runs away and joy fades into gloom.  But they are all guided by the same hope and we all manage to come together at the end of the day.

I wake up every morning with hope, and hope calls to me throughout the day, to beckon me onward and give me strength.  Every day ends with hope and I look forward to the next day being even better than the last.  I can't imagine it any other way.  They say that "hope springs eternal."  Well, I don't really know what that means.  I do know, however, that I look forward to the eternities with hope.

My hope, adventure, courage and joy make my life wonderful.   That is adventure spelled with an 'S', courage spelled with a 'J', joy spelled with an 'E' and, of course, hope spelled with an 'M'.  I'm sure I haven't described them the way I picture them in my mind but maybe you are lucky enough to have your own tree that you can envision.  Maybe you have grafted a part into your tree that wouldn't have normally been there.  Once the branch takes hold, it's all the same tree.

Or, then again, maybe you imagine your life's mosaic as a logger. In which case I'm sorry, I just don't have a good analogy for that.

What's that? ... Speak up!

The other day I was talking to myself and we finally figured out why I have such a difficult time alternating between speaking and writing.  Unfortunately I was talking my way through the question and therefore can't write a word about it.

I seem to have a disconnect between my thoughts and my mouth.  Even when the words do come out right I don't put the proper inflection in my voice to convey my feelings.  A few weeks ago I was "teaching" a class of eight year olds at church.  My wife usually teaches them but she wasn't feeling well that Sunday so she stayed home.  We never figured out what was wrong with her but it must have been terrible because she had fever of 115 degrees and she was so pale that it looked like she had just rubbed baby powder all over her face.  No kidding!  Just like baby powder.  Fortunately she was feeling better soon after I left and had no more problems for the rest of the day.

So I'm sitting in this class thinking I've got things under control.  The kids are sitting relatively quietly and I'm humming through the lesson, methodically hitting all the points of doctrine that were suggested in the lesson plan.

Finally one boy raises his hand, and as I prepare to answer his question I'm thinking, how good it feels to plant the seeds of thought in the minds of these children.  So the kid looks at me and says, "you need to speak with more enthusiasm, you're too boring."  He then proceeded to demonstrate how to speak enthusiastically by dancing around the room, snapping his fingers over his head, and repeating the last few words I had just said.

At the same time three other kids, who I thought were quietly listening to the lesson, suddenly snorted in unison as they awoke from a semi-hypnotic stupor.  Which, by the way, I would dearly love to learn how to do on purpose.

So I asked my vociferous young friend if he would like to help with the rest of the lesson.  He agreed and for the rest of the time I would say a few words and then he would translate them into a semi-accurate, but much more exciting version of what I had just said.  I'm sure some odd questions were asked over the dinner table that evening.  Even I had to take a few minutes to ponder what had been said.

I remember taking a class in college where we had to read a statement and then we were tutored on  how to make it sound more interesting.  I know some people are tone-deaf when it comes to music but I think I am emphasis-deaf when it comes to speaking.  I would read the words and then the tutor would say them in a way that apparently sounded more interesting.  To me it could have been a recording of how I had just said it.  I couldn't hear any difference.

I don't even speak in monotone, it's more like void-of-tone.  Maybe that's why it is easier for me to write my feelings.  I can write the words down and then it's up to the reader to apply the proper tone.  (Does anybody else smell coconut?)  So if you are reading this and you like the way it sounds, then pat yourself on the back, you are an exciting reader.  However, if you are, at this moment, thinking of old gym shorts that you would rather be smelling than reading any further, then I know of a talented eight year old who just might be able to help you out.