Tuesday, August 11, 2015
Tuesday, July 28, 2015
When the Fault Lies in Myself, All That's Left is to Walk
The morning air has a hint of cool. I don’t know if that means the driest and hottest parts of summer are over, but the slight breeze felt wonderful when I walked the garbage to the curb. I took a long draw into my lungs. The blend of the oxygen with tinges of a temp similar to that in the main part of the refrigerator made me want to walk to the park. Then, a thought of work, and some other feeling deep, deep inside, somewhere beyond my conscious will, prodded me to walk back into the house.
I might have forgotten about the experience, even though the failure to launch to exercise has happened a lot since December. Before that, there were times when I walked as much as four or five miles in a day. That was when I a cardiologist joined my squad of doctors.Afterwards, I walked to the park a couple of times. Then, I stopped. I cannot tie the two together - heart problems and a lack of desire to even take a short walk.
Anyway, I briefly kicked the question around in my head until I found an article, “Five Exercise Myths that are Holding You Back.” The story inspired me to do what I usually do when I cannot work through a problem - write through the confusion.
As many people these days, I thought there was somewhere other than my own free will to place the blame.
Whoa! I told myself. See, the fact that you won’t get up and move around outside the house is not your fault. There is some unseen power that binds you to the easy chair.
Things got better when I glanced at the short feature's last paragraph. "Physical activity is important for everyone, but it can be tough to get started," the author wrote. Ahah! I said to myself. A sympathetic voice. Then, my fantasy crashed. The next line explained that you have to workout nonetheless. "Run with it!" the author wrote.
Yikes! The writer used the "R" word. I haven't run in twenty years.
For not even sixty seconds, my mind drifted to a recent cartoon photo I saw. Bob from the Minions stood surprised. The caption exclaimed, "Exercise? I thought you said, French Fries!"
Anyway, I glanced a second time at the article. The expression on the kid about to lift weights in the photo above matched the feeling in my heart.
Oh...man! I said to myself in that sort of long low whine I get when I know I am wrong. Then I went all Shakespeare on myself. The fault lies in myself, not in my stars. In other words, short of some specific revelation that God wants me welded to an easy chair for my final years on Earth, I have not one reason to give up on exercise. In fact, the article states that no one has an excuse anymore.
By the way, one of the myths that hold people back is a lack of time. The writer says "fagettaboutit!" and offers suggestions on a 10- or 20-minute intense workout. According to the article this type of exercise is the current rage. Well, that is not for me. You have to be in great shape to do those kinds of workouts. Then again, even as I write those words, I wonder whether its a "chicken and the egg" conundrum - you have to be in great shape for a high intensity workout, but extreme exercise might put you in better shape. Anyway, none of that is outside my realm. Remember, I can barely work up the will to stand.
Last week, I got a doctor's permission to use the exercise room at a senior center. They have treadmills. I was enthusiastic until the time came to go to orientation. I passed, and felt kind of bad about the lack of fortitude, until I saw what the "Five Myths" article said about calories and treadmills. Ok, I thought. I can do that. You know, walk and burn calories by the basket full. I was almost mentally out of the chair when I read, "Everyone burns different amounts of calories, depending on body weight, metabolism and effort expended. There is no one-size-fits-all 400 calorie workout."
You might as well go back to walking in your neighborhood, I told myself. An indoor treadmill is a blessing for rainy days, but it is not a magic carpet.
In the end, I guess the article does not have what I sought - a place to keep hiding from the steady, one-foot-in-front-of-the-other grind that comes with some form of daily exercise. The next orientation session at the senior center is on Wednesday. I might go this time. The odds are pretty good that later today I might walk to the park.
I might have forgotten about the experience, even though the failure to launch to exercise has happened a lot since December. Before that, there were times when I walked as much as four or five miles in a day. That was when I a cardiologist joined my squad of doctors.Afterwards, I walked to the park a couple of times. Then, I stopped. I cannot tie the two together - heart problems and a lack of desire to even take a short walk.
 |
| The look on his face matches mine at the thought of a workout. |
As many people these days, I thought there was somewhere other than my own free will to place the blame.
Whoa! I told myself. See, the fact that you won’t get up and move around outside the house is not your fault. There is some unseen power that binds you to the easy chair.
Things got better when I glanced at the short feature's last paragraph. "Physical activity is important for everyone, but it can be tough to get started," the author wrote. Ahah! I said to myself. A sympathetic voice. Then, my fantasy crashed. The next line explained that you have to workout nonetheless. "Run with it!" the author wrote.
Yikes! The writer used the "R" word. I haven't run in twenty years.
For not even sixty seconds, my mind drifted to a recent cartoon photo I saw. Bob from the Minions stood surprised. The caption exclaimed, "Exercise? I thought you said, French Fries!"
Anyway, I glanced a second time at the article. The expression on the kid about to lift weights in the photo above matched the feeling in my heart.
Oh...man! I said to myself in that sort of long low whine I get when I know I am wrong. Then I went all Shakespeare on myself. The fault lies in myself, not in my stars. In other words, short of some specific revelation that God wants me welded to an easy chair for my final years on Earth, I have not one reason to give up on exercise. In fact, the article states that no one has an excuse anymore.
By the way, one of the myths that hold people back is a lack of time. The writer says "fagettaboutit!" and offers suggestions on a 10- or 20-minute intense workout. According to the article this type of exercise is the current rage. Well, that is not for me. You have to be in great shape to do those kinds of workouts. Then again, even as I write those words, I wonder whether its a "chicken and the egg" conundrum - you have to be in great shape for a high intensity workout, but extreme exercise might put you in better shape. Anyway, none of that is outside my realm. Remember, I can barely work up the will to stand.
Last week, I got a doctor's permission to use the exercise room at a senior center. They have treadmills. I was enthusiastic until the time came to go to orientation. I passed, and felt kind of bad about the lack of fortitude, until I saw what the "Five Myths" article said about calories and treadmills. Ok, I thought. I can do that. You know, walk and burn calories by the basket full. I was almost mentally out of the chair when I read, "Everyone burns different amounts of calories, depending on body weight, metabolism and effort expended. There is no one-size-fits-all 400 calorie workout."
You might as well go back to walking in your neighborhood, I told myself. An indoor treadmill is a blessing for rainy days, but it is not a magic carpet.
In the end, I guess the article does not have what I sought - a place to keep hiding from the steady, one-foot-in-front-of-the-other grind that comes with some form of daily exercise. The next orientation session at the senior center is on Wednesday. I might go this time. The odds are pretty good that later today I might walk to the park.
Sunday, July 26, 2015
Don't Stress Over the Current Social Mess
A close friend is in a meltdown. Tension rides my friend’s shoulders like a brace of boulders. She is not alone. I feel the pressure, too.
After days of news coverage, discussions and debate on the incidents, police officials' shrugging shoulders, politicians promises of investigations, grand juries that withhold indictments, most people have a right to be stressed. My friend's came clear to me through three emails with background on the
case of Sandra Bland who committed suicide in a Texas county jail. She is bothered by the unanswered questions, feelings of helplessness in the face of power, fear of a similar fate, and sympathy for the victims of police.
"Here is even more information that needs to be heard," she wrote in an evaluation of the video of the traffic stop that sparked the incident. "Ms Bland is talking fast and furious because she is now afraid for her life and the cop keeps ramping up the insults, then lies about trying to calm her down, when he just keeps adding insult and injury to this lady without ever answering her question about why she is being treated in this manner... Can't anybody see that he is terrorizing her, deliberately?"
That is why I can imagine, as to me the current social environment leaves her with nothing but stress headaches and fatigue. I see the same reactions in many people every day.
According to medical experts, at any given time as many as 80 percent of Americans have tension headaches for various reasons. I will elaborate on that in a moment. However, like those tied to the BLACK LIVES MATTER debates their cause are usually tightened muscles in the back of the neck or scalp, especially related to depression, anxiety or mental stress. That is a result of the struggle to maintain hope.
Now, doctors say tension headaches are also caused by lack of rest, poor posture, anxiety, fatigue, hunger, and overexertion. No doubt! Writing those words made me tired. Throw in everyday activities such as driving, writing and cell phone use, and there is little wonder I and so many other people are stressed.
The pain spurred by faulty posture while driving, computing and using cell phones, is as well known the lyrics to an old song, The problem is that many people forget the tune, or like me blank out the message as time wears on. Care2.com hosts an article “Unknowingly Stressing Your Back,” that offers good tips to those who don't know the song, and gives those who forgot the tune a great reminder. That eases some of what ails us.
There is no quick fix for the tensions from caused by mental or emotional stress and depression.There is only hope, which is easier to summon if you have faith. Many studies show that faith helps.
Three years ago, the American Journal of Psychiatry reported that subjects tied to Catholic and mainline Protestants who told researchers that religion is very important had a 76 percent less chance of experiencing major depression. Those ideas need more in-depth study, but in many researchers find that belief is a key factor in mental health. If you want to know more, check out, this article on faith and stress. Those who want to work out issues and feelings about the American social environment without religion might want to take a page from Stress Management experts on how to adapt to stressors, the frequent causes of emotional or mental stress and depression.
They suggest we reframe the problem, look at the big picture, adjust our standards and focus on the positive. Those are good ideas, but might not offer much to people like my friend. One of the best pieces of advice from those in that field is what I always say, “Don’t try to control the uncontrollable.”
As I often tell people, "You can only do what you can do." Given the nation’s current state, there are likely to be more seemingly senseless black deaths at the hands of police. I do not make the laws, so my responsibility is to write letters, sign petitions, march in protests, and continue to talk about the feelings and questions spurred by the news. Those actions make me feel less helpless. They might help you, too. In any event those things will stir public debate on the issues and poke those who make or serve the laws to act. Beyond that, a look at the big picture is scary.
Injustice and sense killings are a part of the national heritage that has stalked African Americans for centuries. The only way to find a means to hope when faced with that fact is to embrace a view rooted in the confidence of visionaries such as the late Rev. Martin Luther King, Jr. He said, “The arc of the moral universe is long but it bends toward justice.” I believe hold onto that, because the concept is logical, which fights hysteria, which only deepens depression. If we panic in the present and surrender to the often touted belief that the arc of our future bends toward chaos, we will be lost to a sickness curable only by death.
 |
| Photo by murdersick_andre |
case of Sandra Bland who committed suicide in a Texas county jail. She is bothered by the unanswered questions, feelings of helplessness in the face of power, fear of a similar fate, and sympathy for the victims of police.
"Here is even more information that needs to be heard," she wrote in an evaluation of the video of the traffic stop that sparked the incident. "Ms Bland is talking fast and furious because she is now afraid for her life and the cop keeps ramping up the insults, then lies about trying to calm her down, when he just keeps adding insult and injury to this lady without ever answering her question about why she is being treated in this manner... Can't anybody see that he is terrorizing her, deliberately?"
That is why I can imagine, as to me the current social environment leaves her with nothing but stress headaches and fatigue. I see the same reactions in many people every day.
According to medical experts, at any given time as many as 80 percent of Americans have tension headaches for various reasons. I will elaborate on that in a moment. However, like those tied to the BLACK LIVES MATTER debates their cause are usually tightened muscles in the back of the neck or scalp, especially related to depression, anxiety or mental stress. That is a result of the struggle to maintain hope.
Now, doctors say tension headaches are also caused by lack of rest, poor posture, anxiety, fatigue, hunger, and overexertion. No doubt! Writing those words made me tired. Throw in everyday activities such as driving, writing and cell phone use, and there is little wonder I and so many other people are stressed.
The pain spurred by faulty posture while driving, computing and using cell phones, is as well known the lyrics to an old song, The problem is that many people forget the tune, or like me blank out the message as time wears on. Care2.com hosts an article “Unknowingly Stressing Your Back,” that offers good tips to those who don't know the song, and gives those who forgot the tune a great reminder. That eases some of what ails us.
There is no quick fix for the tensions from caused by mental or emotional stress and depression.There is only hope, which is easier to summon if you have faith. Many studies show that faith helps.
Three years ago, the American Journal of Psychiatry reported that subjects tied to Catholic and mainline Protestants who told researchers that religion is very important had a 76 percent less chance of experiencing major depression. Those ideas need more in-depth study, but in many researchers find that belief is a key factor in mental health. If you want to know more, check out, this article on faith and stress. Those who want to work out issues and feelings about the American social environment without religion might want to take a page from Stress Management experts on how to adapt to stressors, the frequent causes of emotional or mental stress and depression.
They suggest we reframe the problem, look at the big picture, adjust our standards and focus on the positive. Those are good ideas, but might not offer much to people like my friend. One of the best pieces of advice from those in that field is what I always say, “Don’t try to control the uncontrollable.”
As I often tell people, "You can only do what you can do." Given the nation’s current state, there are likely to be more seemingly senseless black deaths at the hands of police. I do not make the laws, so my responsibility is to write letters, sign petitions, march in protests, and continue to talk about the feelings and questions spurred by the news. Those actions make me feel less helpless. They might help you, too. In any event those things will stir public debate on the issues and poke those who make or serve the laws to act. Beyond that, a look at the big picture is scary.
Injustice and sense killings are a part of the national heritage that has stalked African Americans for centuries. The only way to find a means to hope when faced with that fact is to embrace a view rooted in the confidence of visionaries such as the late Rev. Martin Luther King, Jr. He said, “The arc of the moral universe is long but it bends toward justice.” I believe hold onto that, because the concept is logical, which fights hysteria, which only deepens depression. If we panic in the present and surrender to the often touted belief that the arc of our future bends toward chaos, we will be lost to a sickness curable only by death.
Friday, July 24, 2015
Its a Matter of Bounce
The next time someone says, "You can be anything that you imagine." Believe them. In fact, recently I realized that often the way you see yourself broadcasts what others can see in you.
There are lots of ways to imagine yourself. Some people see themselves as a project, pulled together piece by piece to build something they envision. Others view their themselves as a mystery story that unfolds minute by minute based on a string of clues. Usually, folks like that don't have a clue as to where they are going, or what they are about to do, but they enjoy being the main character. Others' perspectives vary as widely as imagination itself. In plain, for everyone, how you imagine yourself is up to you, and likely what you see is going to be you.
Well, I’m a rubber ball, not as fancy as the one in the photo. I am the simple kind used for handball or racquetball - a rubber, seamless sphere, only a few inches in diameter. I would say that I see myself as only a little over two ounces, but this is about imagination, not delusion. I
identify with that object because these days much of my time is spent in efforts to learn to bounce back. Spiritually, mentally, physically, there is a lot of ground to cover. In each area circumstances wrought by me or someone else slam me into walls...of doubt, of pain, of fear, of ignorance, and frequently weariness. As most people, I find myself in those conditions, but recently my goal is to emerge undefeated.
Most people do not give much thought to the wonder of that little ball. The ball itself seems a thoughtless object. Someone slams it into a wall, or an obstacle, with different levels of force. The sphere rebounds in ways that are unpredictable. The ball flies off the wall or other obstruction at random speeds and odd angles, which I accept and enjoy as a surprise. Often, when I hot a wall, I cannot predict what will come next. Do me a favor - if you know, do not tell me. I live for the surprise.
Now, mt life as a ball is not for everyone. I know that many people cannot stand the unpredictable. They want to know what happens next. They want to plan. When they see a ball like me, they ask ask questions like:
If you hit the ball at ground level toward the wall with a speed of 12 meters per second, at an angle of 20 degrees above the horizontal, how long does it take for the ball to reach the wall if it is 6.2 meters away?
Believe me, when you are the ball, the amount of time before you hit the wall becomes the least of your concerns. I am fascinated by how and where I and others bounce back. I am in awe at the variety of ways we come away from the obstructions in life. We lose a job. A better one comes along. Someone faces "ruination," and opens an opportunity toward an as yet unseen career. Money slides out the door, and walks right back in. Somehow, every day loss is replaced in a turn of events that renders the despair that once came with into unimportance, because being a ball is a lesson in love. The ball bounces again and again, because its nature is to endure hardship and rebound. The nature of a ball is resilience. In plain speak, it does what it does, because it exists., and so do I. Love teaches me to be patient, have faith, hope and endure, and through those things I live.
Its like the author of First Corinthians explains, “Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.” If I love God, I have to love what I am. If I truly do love myself, then it is little to ask me to be patient with me, to believe in me, to hope that what I want will be fulfilled, and to endure the rough patches along the way.
In the five months since I last wrote here, I have grown in the belief that love surrounds me. In fact, it surrounds every one of us, if you can believe it. That growth makes me affirm new habits. I will not panic and despair in the present. I await the future. I can do that because I believe that I my destiny is to loved, if only by God/ That is why the story of my life cannot have a sad conclusion. So, I choose to hang with whatever comes at me every day. When something slams me into a wall I pause, keep faith with my dreams, endure, and then find a way to bounce back like that ball. That will happen at different speeds and in different directions. Keep an eye on me. Await the surprise.
There are lots of ways to imagine yourself. Some people see themselves as a project, pulled together piece by piece to build something they envision. Others view their themselves as a mystery story that unfolds minute by minute based on a string of clues. Usually, folks like that don't have a clue as to where they are going, or what they are about to do, but they enjoy being the main character. Others' perspectives vary as widely as imagination itself. In plain, for everyone, how you imagine yourself is up to you, and likely what you see is going to be you.
Well, I’m a rubber ball, not as fancy as the one in the photo. I am the simple kind used for handball or racquetball - a rubber, seamless sphere, only a few inches in diameter. I would say that I see myself as only a little over two ounces, but this is about imagination, not delusion. I
Most people do not give much thought to the wonder of that little ball. The ball itself seems a thoughtless object. Someone slams it into a wall, or an obstacle, with different levels of force. The sphere rebounds in ways that are unpredictable. The ball flies off the wall or other obstruction at random speeds and odd angles, which I accept and enjoy as a surprise. Often, when I hot a wall, I cannot predict what will come next. Do me a favor - if you know, do not tell me. I live for the surprise.
Now, mt life as a ball is not for everyone. I know that many people cannot stand the unpredictable. They want to know what happens next. They want to plan. When they see a ball like me, they ask ask questions like:
If you hit the ball at ground level toward the wall with a speed of 12 meters per second, at an angle of 20 degrees above the horizontal, how long does it take for the ball to reach the wall if it is 6.2 meters away?
Believe me, when you are the ball, the amount of time before you hit the wall becomes the least of your concerns. I am fascinated by how and where I and others bounce back. I am in awe at the variety of ways we come away from the obstructions in life. We lose a job. A better one comes along. Someone faces "ruination," and opens an opportunity toward an as yet unseen career. Money slides out the door, and walks right back in. Somehow, every day loss is replaced in a turn of events that renders the despair that once came with into unimportance, because being a ball is a lesson in love. The ball bounces again and again, because its nature is to endure hardship and rebound. The nature of a ball is resilience. In plain speak, it does what it does, because it exists., and so do I. Love teaches me to be patient, have faith, hope and endure, and through those things I live.
Its like the author of First Corinthians explains, “Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.” If I love God, I have to love what I am. If I truly do love myself, then it is little to ask me to be patient with me, to believe in me, to hope that what I want will be fulfilled, and to endure the rough patches along the way.
In the five months since I last wrote here, I have grown in the belief that love surrounds me. In fact, it surrounds every one of us, if you can believe it. That growth makes me affirm new habits. I will not panic and despair in the present. I await the future. I can do that because I believe that I my destiny is to loved, if only by God/ That is why the story of my life cannot have a sad conclusion. So, I choose to hang with whatever comes at me every day. When something slams me into a wall I pause, keep faith with my dreams, endure, and then find a way to bounce back like that ball. That will happen at different speeds and in different directions. Keep an eye on me. Await the surprise.
Thursday, March 12, 2015
The Keys to My Success
For important changes, I do what I do, giving almost no thought to what I do. If I think too much about some decisions, I would not make them. On those matters, I do not try. I - as fictional Jedi wise man Yoda says - do. That is why I was amused by what a CNN article urges for those who want success in business and my quest for more mental, physical and spiritual balance and harmony.
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| Change can make one unsure which door to open |
When I weighed so much that a scale groans at my step, the idea that I might someday lose enough pounds to improve that condition seems laughable. Even when to drop pounds might mean life or death, diet and exercise can seem too much to ask. So, I did not.
As I once wrote, I never asked myself to lose weight or change eating habits. I do. I exercise for its own sake. If the weight drops away, I take it as gravy on meat and potatoes. I don't weigh everyday, as some experts suggest. I wait for the doctor to give me the totals. If the news is good. I do more. If not, I work exercise more.
I do not starve myself, or eat fake foods that taste like wallpaper laced with dirt. I cut back on portions and if practical avoid bread and red meats. I let my body, mind and spirit take control. They work together to help me adapt to the rigorous routine of my life.
When I meet roadblocks in the set goals, I shift, but keep sight of the mark. As you might read in the article linked above, successful entrepreneurs are never afraid to try a different approach when something does not work. I do the same.
As I once wrote, I never asked myself to lose weight or change eating habits. I do. I exercise for its own sake. If the weight drops away, I take it as gravy on meat and potatoes. I don't weigh everyday, as some experts suggest. I wait for the doctor to give me the totals. If the news is good. I do more. If not, I work exercise more.
I do not starve myself, or eat fake foods that taste like wallpaper laced with dirt. I cut back on portions and if practical avoid bread and red meats. I let my body, mind and spirit take control. They work together to help me adapt to the rigorous routine of my life.
When I meet roadblocks in the set goals, I shift, but keep sight of the mark. As you might read in the article linked above, successful entrepreneurs are never afraid to try a different approach when something does not work. I do the same.
There are so many pieces of advice and experts on health and whole living afloat in today's media. If I tried to keep up with every theory, or followed the latest trend, my focus on the quest would scatter. Instead, I adapt to what seems practical at the moment. For example, I began to walk each morning along a path that drained two, sometimes three hours or more out of the day. The long exercise period seemed to drain the energy from the rest of the day. Also, when my calendar was busy, time often forced me to put aside the walk because it took too long. The lack of consistency tempted me to toss in the towel on exercise and drop the routine. Instead, I staked out a two-mile route closer to home that can be leisurely completed in an hour. The change furthers my goal, but I am still forced to deal with risks.
From the moment the journey began, I have risked my health, image, peace of mind, lifestyle, and comfort. I abandoned the safety and security of victimhood as a morbidly overweight, miserable, depressed, weary man with at least five serious illnesses. With the first step I made a move toward... the unknown. Some people would be paralyzed by such a risk. I do not know if where the journey will take me is better than the physical and mental limitations that mired my past existence. I do not know if what lies ahead is better or can make me more fulfilled. I just imagined the more and started a journey. I am not confident I will get to where I imagine I might go, but I am certain I will be far from where I have been.
Confidence is like a box of chocolates. To open an empty container is sad, so you have to start with some pieces of promise, even if all that is left are the sampled cast offs and rejects. I had to convince myself that I am worthy of salvation.
A few years ago, I was convinced that death was the only stop ahead on the road of my life. With the help of a few loyal friends and kind strangers, I forced myself to look away from others' impressions of me. I tuned out negative predictions. I pushed the "Kevorkians" out of my circles, then seized responsibility for who I am and what I choose to be.
I let many strangers, or friends that I had not met yet, drop sweet bits of solace, encouragement and wisdom in my "chocolate box." Those good experiences continue to fuel the journey.
When the image in the mirror is not what my mind knows can be, I seek the strength to trust. That leads to the task which is hardest for me. The person I most distrust is me.
I find it tough to believe in myself on this quest. Sometimes, I feel way over my head. I know other people have done what I seek and more, but doubt whether I can. I doubt the compliments and supportive words of others, lest I succumb to flattery. I worry about whether I will betray the goals. I become impatient with myself, particularly when changes do not come swiftly. For example, when I lose eight or ten pounds over the course of a month, I beat myself up inside and think, You should lose that much in a week.
A few years ago, I was convinced that death was the only stop ahead on the road of my life. With the help of a few loyal friends and kind strangers, I forced myself to look away from others' impressions of me. I tuned out negative predictions. I pushed the "Kevorkians" out of my circles, then seized responsibility for who I am and what I choose to be.
I let many strangers, or friends that I had not met yet, drop sweet bits of solace, encouragement and wisdom in my "chocolate box." Those good experiences continue to fuel the journey.
When the image in the mirror is not what my mind knows can be, I seek the strength to trust. That leads to the task which is hardest for me. The person I most distrust is me.
I find it tough to believe in myself on this quest. Sometimes, I feel way over my head. I know other people have done what I seek and more, but doubt whether I can. I doubt the compliments and supportive words of others, lest I succumb to flattery. I worry about whether I will betray the goals. I become impatient with myself, particularly when changes do not come swiftly. For example, when I lose eight or ten pounds over the course of a month, I beat myself up inside and think, You should lose that much in a week.
When people walk up to me, smile and say, "You are looking thinner." My mouth says, "Thanks!" My mind says, Right. C'mon, stop kidding!
I get nervous that the quest and the recollections in this blog might make me look foolish. Living out loud is not my usual habit. That is when I look into my mind's eye and ask, "Really?" Then, I realize that what happens in this project does not bank entirely on self-trust. Mostly, the success depends on my trust in the God who made me.
Saturday, February 28, 2015
The Death of "Spock," Again
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| Leonard Nimoy (1931-2015) |
Back to where this started -- Spock has lived, died and lived more than one life before. Paramount Studios, maker of the Star Trek films, killed off the character Spock, in "The Wrath of Khan," the second in a series of now 11 big-screen films. The then-Vulcan science officer on the Starship Enterprise sacrificed himself at the end of the film because, as that script nobly repeats several times, "the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few, or the one." Anyway, the character dies in the 1982 film, but the producers misread the needs of the fans, and what Spock represented in the American psyche. That is why, in 1984, the third film, which Nimoy also directed, was tagged, "The Search for Spock,"an aptly dubbed search-and-rescue saga.
I grieve the death of Leonard Nimoy, but not just as a fan of the television, film, animation, and novel series. The character which was a first on television in this country made me unashamed to embrace the embrace the emotionally controlled, rational, and logical spirit - the "Spock" - in me. More than that, I hope that someday many more people on this planet will show the traits the character so ably conveyed. We need more people to take on that posture instead of the passion-driven, purposeless, violent stances seemingly prevalent throughout the globe in in the 21st Century.
Those traits came to me as the result of an education in the Classics. Most Americans will disagree, but I wish today's high school and college students would still be pushed to study languages, Philosophy, History, the Arts, and Social Sciences instead of just Science, Technology, Engineering and Mathematics. STEM will make young people become better cogs in a transnational money-making machine, but those who come through the education pipeline without even a faint familiarity with Classic deeds, contributions and artifacts of Global civilizations are likely to lose their souls. Nimoy's Spock contributed soul.
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| Quinto's Spock |
Nimoy's Spock was part of a race of people named after the Roman god of fire, Vulcan. Since the television series debuted during the late 1960s, a time when the United States was embroiled in a bloody conflict in Southeast Asia, his character often pointed out and criticized humanity's suicidal tendencies. Vulcan was nearly destroyed by the temptation to yield to the hearts' dictates without critical thought. Perhaps that is why Roddenberry had them not say "goodbye," as humans do upon departure. Vulcan's say, "Live long and prosper."
The people of Vulcan came to understand that passion without logic can only yield unbridled violence. As Pope Paul VI once explained in his writings Peace on Earth can only truly emerge from the will to see all human life preserved and prosperous. As mentioned, I learned the same things reading human history, philosophy, ancient languages, and through the study of art and music. I remain puzzled why it seems that so few others people these days grasp the same understanding.
I see passion without logic everyday in the alleged acts of the self-proclaimed, Islamic State of Iraq and the Levant (ISIL), as well as the covert drone wars of the United States. The tragic formula is evident in the Ferguson, Missouri riots' irrational rage, and the racially insensitive, inflexibility of the St. Louis County law enforcement. The pattern was in the "preemptive strike" policy of former President George W. Bush's administration, sadly echoed by the mandates of President Barack Obama.
Unbridled passion, irrational fear and disjointed logic destroy mental, physical and spiritual harmony and balance. Sadly those negative traits have woven into the fabric of life on this planet. Perhaps, as people read this, remember Leonard Nimoy, or search for Spock, those of good will be inspired to pause the violence and other evils that result from rage fed by fear and illogic, and consider, "Where does this gets us?"
The future of ourselves and the Earth will be the result of human will. Violence and fear are choices, not part of human nature. Like the mythical Vulcans, at any point Humans can turn the corner and choose to life and prosperity for all.
Saturday, February 21, 2015
Man of Iron
The moniker "Man of Steel" is legendary as it refers to Superman. The three-word phrase became the brand for the comic book hero who came to Earth from a dying world to defend every form of life.
Man of Iron?
Well, my 5-year-old grandson would validate the impact of Marvel films on the human knowledge base and immediately shout, "That's Tony Stark!" He would think I mean Iron Man.
Wrong. I refer to me. Despite the comic fiction, human blood is filled with iron, or it should be. That is what enables our bodies to "breathe." During the past three months I learned a little bit about why the boy might see more iron in the fictional Stark than me.
The many sorrowful gazes I gleaned from medical technicians during my long absence from this blog usually came with a simple, three-word utterance, "You are anemic." In short, the iron that should be in me is depleted. Perhaps the mineral is not completely gone in my system, but shot to such low levels that the people who know about health are given pause.
Welcome to the world of a Man of Iron whose blood finds the mineral a few pints low. I don't know enough about iron poor blood to take on the wary gaze. I experience the results - lack of energy, shortness of breath, headaches, dizziness and irritability - which is just as troublesome. More scary is the knowledge that I am not alone.
According to the World Health Organization, 80 percent of the people on the planet have some sort of iron deficit. The essential mineral helps make hemoglobin and myoglobin, proteins that carry oxygen to the blood. I am a meat-eater, and surprised the habit does not provide enough iron to my system. According to government standards, a male older than 19 only needs 8 milligrams per day. Nonetheless, during the past few months I have endured the sad looks at the news of my lack of iron.
Meanwhile, I have checked out a few ways to fight back. A recent article on Vegan health suggested Vitamin C as an aid, because it helps the body to absorb iron. More than that, the piece listed a variety of plant-based sources for iron. Those include:
Aside from what to add, the article echoed Dr. Lin, who more than a year ago advised me to cast aside tea, coffee and dairy. Chemical compounds in the warm beverages called polyphenols bind with iron, which works against iron absorption. High calcium foods such as yogurt, ice cream and cheese eaten within an hour of iron-rich foods do the same thing.
In the end, iron-poor blood weakens my body, mind and spirit, but not my resolve to continue the journey at the heart of this blog. My quest remains to better balance and harmony in mind, body and spirit. I intend to work on the problem until the day when I can ask my grandson, "Who is the Man of Iron?" and he will answer, "You."
Man of Iron?
Well, my 5-year-old grandson would validate the impact of Marvel films on the human knowledge base and immediately shout, "That's Tony Stark!" He would think I mean Iron Man.Wrong. I refer to me. Despite the comic fiction, human blood is filled with iron, or it should be. That is what enables our bodies to "breathe." During the past three months I learned a little bit about why the boy might see more iron in the fictional Stark than me.
The many sorrowful gazes I gleaned from medical technicians during my long absence from this blog usually came with a simple, three-word utterance, "You are anemic." In short, the iron that should be in me is depleted. Perhaps the mineral is not completely gone in my system, but shot to such low levels that the people who know about health are given pause.
Welcome to the world of a Man of Iron whose blood finds the mineral a few pints low. I don't know enough about iron poor blood to take on the wary gaze. I experience the results - lack of energy, shortness of breath, headaches, dizziness and irritability - which is just as troublesome. More scary is the knowledge that I am not alone.
According to the World Health Organization, 80 percent of the people on the planet have some sort of iron deficit. The essential mineral helps make hemoglobin and myoglobin, proteins that carry oxygen to the blood. I am a meat-eater, and surprised the habit does not provide enough iron to my system. According to government standards, a male older than 19 only needs 8 milligrams per day. Nonetheless, during the past few months I have endured the sad looks at the news of my lack of iron.
Meanwhile, I have checked out a few ways to fight back. A recent article on Vegan health suggested Vitamin C as an aid, because it helps the body to absorb iron. More than that, the piece listed a variety of plant-based sources for iron. Those include:
- Tofu (1/2 cup): 6.6 mg
- Spirulina (1 tsp): 5 mg
- Cooked soybeans (1/2 cup): 4.4 mg
- Pumpkin seeds (1 ounce): 4.2 mg
- Quinoa (4 ounces): 4 mg
- Blackstrap molasses (1 tbsp): 4 mg
- Tomato paste (4 ounces): 3.9 mg
- White beans (1/2 cup) 3.9 mg
- Dried apricots (1 cup): 3.5 mg
- Cooked spinach (1/2 cup): 3.2 mg
- Dried peaches (6 halves): 3.1 mg
- Prune juice (8 ounces): 3 mg
- Lentils (4 ounces): 3 mg
- Peas (1 cup): 2.1 mg
Aside from what to add, the article echoed Dr. Lin, who more than a year ago advised me to cast aside tea, coffee and dairy. Chemical compounds in the warm beverages called polyphenols bind with iron, which works against iron absorption. High calcium foods such as yogurt, ice cream and cheese eaten within an hour of iron-rich foods do the same thing.
In the end, iron-poor blood weakens my body, mind and spirit, but not my resolve to continue the journey at the heart of this blog. My quest remains to better balance and harmony in mind, body and spirit. I intend to work on the problem until the day when I can ask my grandson, "Who is the Man of Iron?" and he will answer, "You."
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