This and That---
I got a piece of bead board to block off our living room from our dogs---to keep them from rushing the door when the doorbell rings and from furring the furniture when they lounge on it. So now we have scraped off paint from replacing the board and little digs in the paint and the wall from the board falling down. Now when someone comes to the door I just have to hurry and talk with them before the dogs knock down the board. Oh well, at least the board gives me a fighting chance to make it to the door before the dogs---the furniture is relatively free of dog hair and my window sheers are not getting snagged anymore--With dogs there are a lot of compromises made--- mostly on the part of the owner.
As part of our 4th of July barbecue I picked up some giant marshmallows. They are about 3 times the size of regular marshmallows and really fluffy. They called to me in the store. One marshmallow makes 2 very gooey smores (it could actually make 4). It has 90 calories and no fat---no nutritional value to speak of but a reasonable indulgence---until you put it with graham crackers and a chocolate bar of course. They already make giant chocolate bars so now all we need is giant graham crackers and we could have a major dietary splurge. Actually they need to come out with micro mini marshmallows and bite size graham cracker squares then I could put one teeny marshmallow and one chocolate chip in between two wee graham crackers and have a doll size smore that just maybe my middle age metabolism could burn off before it joined the fat convention around my middle.
Well my daughter and I are off to IKEA the store purposely designed like a maze so that you will find things to buy in order to take your mind off of your fear of never finding your way out. At least it is good exercise. Maybe I can walk off those giant marshmallows.
One more thought about gardens---I have been pulling up some pesky unidentified weedy looking plants that have been growing like crazy in one of my flower gardens. I finally realized yesterday that they might be starts of a plant that I planted in the garden. The early beginnings look different than the more mature plant. I am going to let them go for awhile and see what happens...The fact that plants can look a little 'weedy' or unruly for a time at first before turning into something nicer means there is hope for plants and people too!
I think my post holiday hot summer laziness has settled in. I just want to read and eat marshmallows. I need to do something more energetic and productive than racing my dogs to the front door and wandering IKEA...
Wednesday, July 7, 2010
Tuesday, July 6, 2010
The Life of a Toy
I experience holiday weekend hangovers. I need to be gradually weaned off of a holiday frame of mind...
We capped off our enjoyable holiday weekend by going to see a movie on Monday. My husband, youngest daughter, and I went to see Toy Story 3. It was funny, exciting, creative, very sweet, magical, simple and amazing, And it was rated G! I am so grateful to the people at Pixar for their innovative, imaginative, and uplifting movies. They know how to make movies that strike a chord in the collective and individual human heart. I agree with my husband that they remember what it was like to play make-believe and they still do it---so delightfully!
I think most of us can relate to the Toy Story movies. Hopefully all of us at one time in our lives has owned and loved a toy. I usually do not like all of the toys that barrage the consuming public as a result of kids movies but in the case of Toy Story it was actually appropriate and I found myself wanting those toys. Soon after the first movie came out my oldest daughter bought Rex and Slink for me for a gift---it was funny because when she bought them the clerk made some comment about my daughter buying them for a younger sibling and my daughter told her no, they're for my mom-- my daughter said the clerk looked surprised and a little confused. I couldn't help it the movie put me in a nostalgic mood.
At one point during the movie the theater went almost completely quiet and everyone in the audience-young and old-seemed to share a special moment. It was one of those chord-striking moments.--- As adults we all remember how very much we wanted to grow up and yet how hard it was to leave our childhood behind. Like growing out of a favorite shirt or pair of pajamas--we can remember how good it felt to wear them but we can't wear them comfortably ever again. That realization both bothers and excites us when we are young. When we grow older that tug-of-war of feelings is softened through reminising. During each phase of life we look for a new 'favorite shirt'---something that fits... As young children our toys are so much more than things to play with. They are our trusted companions and our fellow adventurers. They are the vehicles for our imaginations. When we are in our early teens and almost nothing fits right and almost everything is awkward our toys are something we long to play with but feel we shouldn't. When we exchange make-believe for the reality of adulthood toys come to represent the innocent and carefree elements of being a child.--- I think it is safe to assume that the majority of adults teens and toddlers in the audience all shared an appreciation for the sentimental value of a toy and the love of playing. I admit that during that special movie moment when the movie really brought that appreciation home I shed a tear or two and looking around me I don't think I was the only one.
When I was a kid I enjoyed playing with dolls (including Barbies---my Barbies went on many adventures with neighbor Barbies---swimming, to grand parties etc etc) Slinkies, Troll dolls--especially one that had gold silky hair---, and a big white stuffed bear that my sister gave me.
For my husband it was Matchbox cars, GI Joes and Tinkertoys. One of the great things about being a parent or grandparent is that you get to keep playing...
Over the years our home has been made more lively by Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, been enchanted by My little Pony, had it's cute factor multiplied by Littlest Pet Shop, and has been softened and comforted by numerous stuffed cuddly friends.
I know toys are just things--defined in the dictionary as simply an object for a child play with--and over the years I have cursed them for being under my feet and they have frequently been the enemy in my various battles with clutter but yet I have inwardly cheered when finding just the right one at Christmas and winced when my children have decided to give one away that I had a particular fondness for. Toys come to life in a child's imagination and become an important part of worlds that exist because they are imagined. I remember being carried far away on the wings of my imagination. I think that pretending opens the mind and paves the way for believing...that dreams can come true---that miracles can happen.
I highly recommend going to see Toy Story 3 just for fun. I even more highly recommend having a tea party, playing dolls, or building something fantastical out of blocks, with your children (you can at least tempt your teenagers or make them do impressive eye rolling) or grandchildren.
Have fun!
We capped off our enjoyable holiday weekend by going to see a movie on Monday. My husband, youngest daughter, and I went to see Toy Story 3. It was funny, exciting, creative, very sweet, magical, simple and amazing, And it was rated G! I am so grateful to the people at Pixar for their innovative, imaginative, and uplifting movies. They know how to make movies that strike a chord in the collective and individual human heart. I agree with my husband that they remember what it was like to play make-believe and they still do it---so delightfully!
I think most of us can relate to the Toy Story movies. Hopefully all of us at one time in our lives has owned and loved a toy. I usually do not like all of the toys that barrage the consuming public as a result of kids movies but in the case of Toy Story it was actually appropriate and I found myself wanting those toys. Soon after the first movie came out my oldest daughter bought Rex and Slink for me for a gift---it was funny because when she bought them the clerk made some comment about my daughter buying them for a younger sibling and my daughter told her no, they're for my mom-- my daughter said the clerk looked surprised and a little confused. I couldn't help it the movie put me in a nostalgic mood.
At one point during the movie the theater went almost completely quiet and everyone in the audience-young and old-seemed to share a special moment. It was one of those chord-striking moments.--- As adults we all remember how very much we wanted to grow up and yet how hard it was to leave our childhood behind. Like growing out of a favorite shirt or pair of pajamas--we can remember how good it felt to wear them but we can't wear them comfortably ever again. That realization both bothers and excites us when we are young. When we grow older that tug-of-war of feelings is softened through reminising. During each phase of life we look for a new 'favorite shirt'---something that fits... As young children our toys are so much more than things to play with. They are our trusted companions and our fellow adventurers. They are the vehicles for our imaginations. When we are in our early teens and almost nothing fits right and almost everything is awkward our toys are something we long to play with but feel we shouldn't. When we exchange make-believe for the reality of adulthood toys come to represent the innocent and carefree elements of being a child.--- I think it is safe to assume that the majority of adults teens and toddlers in the audience all shared an appreciation for the sentimental value of a toy and the love of playing. I admit that during that special movie moment when the movie really brought that appreciation home I shed a tear or two and looking around me I don't think I was the only one.
When I was a kid I enjoyed playing with dolls (including Barbies---my Barbies went on many adventures with neighbor Barbies---swimming, to grand parties etc etc) Slinkies, Troll dolls--especially one that had gold silky hair---, and a big white stuffed bear that my sister gave me.
For my husband it was Matchbox cars, GI Joes and Tinkertoys. One of the great things about being a parent or grandparent is that you get to keep playing...
Over the years our home has been made more lively by Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, been enchanted by My little Pony, had it's cute factor multiplied by Littlest Pet Shop, and has been softened and comforted by numerous stuffed cuddly friends.
I know toys are just things--defined in the dictionary as simply an object for a child play with--and over the years I have cursed them for being under my feet and they have frequently been the enemy in my various battles with clutter but yet I have inwardly cheered when finding just the right one at Christmas and winced when my children have decided to give one away that I had a particular fondness for. Toys come to life in a child's imagination and become an important part of worlds that exist because they are imagined. I remember being carried far away on the wings of my imagination. I think that pretending opens the mind and paves the way for believing...that dreams can come true---that miracles can happen.
I highly recommend going to see Toy Story 3 just for fun. I even more highly recommend having a tea party, playing dolls, or building something fantastical out of blocks, with your children (you can at least tempt your teenagers or make them do impressive eye rolling) or grandchildren.
Have fun!
Monday, July 5, 2010
Moments
Do you remember the anticipation fluttering deep in your stomach as you felt the tugging on your roller coaster car as it neared the peak of the first and highest 'mountain'---and many people (not me) would raise their arms in anticipation...I think the 4th of July feels like that moment. It is the exciting peak of summer. The rest of the season is an enjoyable ride but the excitement lessens and the shrieks of delight turn to softer laughter and then to giggles as each curve takes us closer to feeling the pull of the brakes.
When I was a kid the 4th of July meant a barbecue, homemade ice-cream--that was hand cranked and I got to add salt to the bucket and was rewarded with getting to lick the paddle-stirrer-thing, lighting 'snakes' on the patio (they made lasting marks), doing cartwheels on the lawn, writing my name in the night air with sparklers, and watching Lagoon's fireworks from our kitchen window. (Which is kind of like watching the neighbor's television through their window from their front sidewalk---my mom couldn't get around well and my family never liked anything that involved crowds)
My first 4th of July away from home my room mate and I went to see the fireworks at Liberty Park. Unfortunately I remember the crowds more than the fireworks. My first memorable experience watching fireworks was when my husband took me to see his hometown's display at the middle school he had attended. We were right under the fireworks. They were huge and bright and noisy. They were like colored fountains spraying brilliant bursts of light---or like giant glowing dandelions gone to seed blown by the wind and twirling until they disappeared---they were amazing (with my hand in my husband's hand I didn't worry too much about our blanket catching on fire) and they felt so close that I imagined burning my fingers if I reached up too high---a much different view than perched on the edge of the kitchen sink finding just the right spot to look between two shadowy trees and wait for small bursts of light to appear.
After having children the 4th of July still included barbecues but store bought ice-cream and popcicles and Otter pops became more popular than homemade ice-cream. (these cold treats brought pleasure on hot days but they didn't carry with them the same ceremony of making homemade ice-cream) The 4th of July with children meant grabbing strollers and blankets and heading down to find a good spot to watch our city parade where we would wave small flags, wave to the pretty girls on the floats, and try to catch candy before it hit us---watching our children run around the yard with sparklers or throw snaps on the ground, and eating licorice or skittles while oohing and ahhing over fireworks.
I find that my memories of the 4th of July are more about the festivities-more about the celebration- than about the reason for the celebrating. But there have been and continue to be moments when I feel touched by patriotism---love for my country, moments when I feel gratitude for more freedoms than I realize most of the time, and moments when I feel reverence for the precious blood spilled defending those freedoms. These moments are far more rare than they should be but when they come they stir my heart with deep emotion and illuminate my mind with sharp awareness.
A very small amount of understanding of sacrifice for freedom came to me as a very young child when I saw my dad leave on a train on the first leg of his journey to Korea. Great clouds of steam were coming from the train and I screamed and sobbed because I thought my daddy was burning up. I gained greater appreciation for his sacrifice years later as I read his cards home from Korea. In them he spoke of what they would be doing on base to celebrate Thanksgiving or Christmas and how much he wished he could be home to celebrate with his family. In the final years of my father's life when he lived with us, he told me that because of his experiences in the Navy and the Army he could never see the American flag without getting a lump in his throat. My dad was not an emotional man.
I remember feeling an inkling of what I thought patriotism to be---not on the 4th of July but during the Christmas holidays when I would watch Bob Hope's specials when he entertained the troops. Although I was young I would look at the youthful smiling faces of the soldiers and I would experience a mixture of feelings. For a few moments brave young men would whistle at beautiful girl performers and laugh at Bob's jokes. They would have a break from pain and suffering and death, and for a few moments they would be just regular guys enjoying life. Watching them would give me a lump in my throat that I couldn't fully understand.
Last night we watched a couple of 4th of July specials on television. One was from our nation's capital and featured several entertainers including a boy from a relatively small city in our own state. There were patriotic musical numbers and fireworks and young soldiers who had been battered, broken, and maimed in our current war. Watching them smile in the face of adversity during a moment of peace reminded me of all those fresh young faces on the Bob Hope specials--only these faces were the 'after' shots... The other special featured Steve Young and a few LDS musical performers. We tuned in shortly before a young man spoke about his harrowing experience of being ambushed in Afghanistan. He had been blinded and had lost several good friends in the attack. Later in the program tribute was paid to two young local boys who had attended the same high school and who had both served and died in Afghanistan. Flags were presented to their mothers. Each mother held the flag to her heart with a look that spoke of yearning to hold her son instead. I felt like I was intruding...I guess it is needful to see more than parades and fireworks in order to truly celebrate the 4th of July. We need reminders of the cost of freedom--we also need to march and sing and wave flags and make homemade ice-cream...
Perhaps the time my heart was stretched to the fullest with patriotism was at my father's funeral. We had military rites done for him. To watch the exactness, the respect, the reverence, and dedication with which those young servicemen folded the flag left me in a state of humble awe. I can't begin to describe my feelings as the flag was handed to me and my sister. I felt my dad there with us and I like to think at that moment that he had gained a greater understanding of freedom. My dad had his mother lie about his age and sign for him so that he could join the navy at 16 or 17. He signed up for a dangerous mission as a gunner on a Merchant Marine ship. He said at the time he felt that no one cared about him and that it wouldn't matter if he came back or not. I think serving his country helped my dad have a greater appreciation for what he risked his life to defend---a relationship with God, freedom to make something of his life, and a family to love. My father spent all of the rest of his civilian life doing all he could to provide for his family and to give them happiness.
On Saturday night as we watched fireworks I looked at my granddaughter snug in her mother's lap excited about 'Christmas fireworks' and at my grandson safe in his daddy's arms captivated by the bright lights in the sky and I was immensely thankful that our family was watching a celebration and not hiding from enemy soldiers---that the loud sounds were coming from fireworks and not bombs or gunfire---that we would go home to safe and comfortable homes. How blessed we are to live in a promised land, a land prepared by God, a land of freedom---but we are the stewards of this land--we need to care for it and accept our responsibility for keeping it great. Most of us know a lot about celebrating and little about suffering. We need to work at remembering. I pray that my children and grandchildren will grow up in a free country and that they will be grateful---grateful enough to stand up for what they believe---to do their part in keeping our country free.
The holiday weekend is winding down to the last few sparks of the sparkler but we need to keep our flags flying and our hands over our hearts. Our God, our religion, our families, our rights are not separate causes--they are a firm foundation on which to build a happy life and a prosperous nation. God Bless America! Enjoy the rest of the roller coaster ride---the summer.
When I was a kid the 4th of July meant a barbecue, homemade ice-cream--that was hand cranked and I got to add salt to the bucket and was rewarded with getting to lick the paddle-stirrer-thing, lighting 'snakes' on the patio (they made lasting marks), doing cartwheels on the lawn, writing my name in the night air with sparklers, and watching Lagoon's fireworks from our kitchen window. (Which is kind of like watching the neighbor's television through their window from their front sidewalk---my mom couldn't get around well and my family never liked anything that involved crowds)
My first 4th of July away from home my room mate and I went to see the fireworks at Liberty Park. Unfortunately I remember the crowds more than the fireworks. My first memorable experience watching fireworks was when my husband took me to see his hometown's display at the middle school he had attended. We were right under the fireworks. They were huge and bright and noisy. They were like colored fountains spraying brilliant bursts of light---or like giant glowing dandelions gone to seed blown by the wind and twirling until they disappeared---they were amazing (with my hand in my husband's hand I didn't worry too much about our blanket catching on fire) and they felt so close that I imagined burning my fingers if I reached up too high---a much different view than perched on the edge of the kitchen sink finding just the right spot to look between two shadowy trees and wait for small bursts of light to appear.
After having children the 4th of July still included barbecues but store bought ice-cream and popcicles and Otter pops became more popular than homemade ice-cream. (these cold treats brought pleasure on hot days but they didn't carry with them the same ceremony of making homemade ice-cream) The 4th of July with children meant grabbing strollers and blankets and heading down to find a good spot to watch our city parade where we would wave small flags, wave to the pretty girls on the floats, and try to catch candy before it hit us---watching our children run around the yard with sparklers or throw snaps on the ground, and eating licorice or skittles while oohing and ahhing over fireworks.
I find that my memories of the 4th of July are more about the festivities-more about the celebration- than about the reason for the celebrating. But there have been and continue to be moments when I feel touched by patriotism---love for my country, moments when I feel gratitude for more freedoms than I realize most of the time, and moments when I feel reverence for the precious blood spilled defending those freedoms. These moments are far more rare than they should be but when they come they stir my heart with deep emotion and illuminate my mind with sharp awareness.
A very small amount of understanding of sacrifice for freedom came to me as a very young child when I saw my dad leave on a train on the first leg of his journey to Korea. Great clouds of steam were coming from the train and I screamed and sobbed because I thought my daddy was burning up. I gained greater appreciation for his sacrifice years later as I read his cards home from Korea. In them he spoke of what they would be doing on base to celebrate Thanksgiving or Christmas and how much he wished he could be home to celebrate with his family. In the final years of my father's life when he lived with us, he told me that because of his experiences in the Navy and the Army he could never see the American flag without getting a lump in his throat. My dad was not an emotional man.
I remember feeling an inkling of what I thought patriotism to be---not on the 4th of July but during the Christmas holidays when I would watch Bob Hope's specials when he entertained the troops. Although I was young I would look at the youthful smiling faces of the soldiers and I would experience a mixture of feelings. For a few moments brave young men would whistle at beautiful girl performers and laugh at Bob's jokes. They would have a break from pain and suffering and death, and for a few moments they would be just regular guys enjoying life. Watching them would give me a lump in my throat that I couldn't fully understand.
Last night we watched a couple of 4th of July specials on television. One was from our nation's capital and featured several entertainers including a boy from a relatively small city in our own state. There were patriotic musical numbers and fireworks and young soldiers who had been battered, broken, and maimed in our current war. Watching them smile in the face of adversity during a moment of peace reminded me of all those fresh young faces on the Bob Hope specials--only these faces were the 'after' shots... The other special featured Steve Young and a few LDS musical performers. We tuned in shortly before a young man spoke about his harrowing experience of being ambushed in Afghanistan. He had been blinded and had lost several good friends in the attack. Later in the program tribute was paid to two young local boys who had attended the same high school and who had both served and died in Afghanistan. Flags were presented to their mothers. Each mother held the flag to her heart with a look that spoke of yearning to hold her son instead. I felt like I was intruding...I guess it is needful to see more than parades and fireworks in order to truly celebrate the 4th of July. We need reminders of the cost of freedom--we also need to march and sing and wave flags and make homemade ice-cream...
Perhaps the time my heart was stretched to the fullest with patriotism was at my father's funeral. We had military rites done for him. To watch the exactness, the respect, the reverence, and dedication with which those young servicemen folded the flag left me in a state of humble awe. I can't begin to describe my feelings as the flag was handed to me and my sister. I felt my dad there with us and I like to think at that moment that he had gained a greater understanding of freedom. My dad had his mother lie about his age and sign for him so that he could join the navy at 16 or 17. He signed up for a dangerous mission as a gunner on a Merchant Marine ship. He said at the time he felt that no one cared about him and that it wouldn't matter if he came back or not. I think serving his country helped my dad have a greater appreciation for what he risked his life to defend---a relationship with God, freedom to make something of his life, and a family to love. My father spent all of the rest of his civilian life doing all he could to provide for his family and to give them happiness.
On Saturday night as we watched fireworks I looked at my granddaughter snug in her mother's lap excited about 'Christmas fireworks' and at my grandson safe in his daddy's arms captivated by the bright lights in the sky and I was immensely thankful that our family was watching a celebration and not hiding from enemy soldiers---that the loud sounds were coming from fireworks and not bombs or gunfire---that we would go home to safe and comfortable homes. How blessed we are to live in a promised land, a land prepared by God, a land of freedom---but we are the stewards of this land--we need to care for it and accept our responsibility for keeping it great. Most of us know a lot about celebrating and little about suffering. We need to work at remembering. I pray that my children and grandchildren will grow up in a free country and that they will be grateful---grateful enough to stand up for what they believe---to do their part in keeping our country free.
The holiday weekend is winding down to the last few sparks of the sparkler but we need to keep our flags flying and our hands over our hearts. Our God, our religion, our families, our rights are not separate causes--they are a firm foundation on which to build a happy life and a prosperous nation. God Bless America! Enjoy the rest of the roller coaster ride---the summer.
Monday, June 28, 2010
A Time to Die
I have decided that I wouldn't make a very good newspaper reporter. Breaking news stories would be well on their way to history books before I decided exactly how I should put them down in print. You see, I really like to carry thoughts or impressions around with me for awhile like trying on a pair of shoes and walking around in them to make sure they fit well. Perhaps I should do more writing and less thinking---after all, I have been doing more thinking and less writing for a very long time. But you know what they say about old habits...
It has been more than a week since I read about Ronnie Lee Gardner's execution in the newspaper and I am just now sitting down to try and explore my feelings as I type out words that I hope will pull together to make some sense...
I had read the articles about Gardner's crimes, his sad childhood, and about his victims. There was no doubt of his guilt and plenty of evidence of the far-reaching effects of the pain and sorrow he had caused but when I read the account of his execution I found my spirit wincing and tears coming to my eyes. I think my reaction came from a sorrow for a life that had been stained and torn by bad choices and for lives senselessly and prematurely taken or negatively impacted as a result of those bad choices. There is something terribly sad about coming to a point where human beings need to be put down like rabid dogs.
As a youth I was in favor of capital punishment mainly because my parents were, then as I grew older and starting thinking more for myself I stayed in favor of capital punishment because I thought it made sense that when someone willfully and coldly takes the life of another human being that the penalty should be to give up their right to live. An eye for eye, a life for a life...I guess I still believe in capital punishment---as long as someone else carries it out---
I looked up my church's position on capital punishment and the official statement basically said that those matters are left in the hands of the law and the church does not promote or oppose capital punishment. At first, I thought wait---how can you neither promote nor oppose something? Are we not either for or against something? On further thought I decided that capital punishment is not something to promote for the same reason it was so hard to read about the details of the execution---it isn't something that fits comfortably into most views of human society. For example, I don't promote violence but I do believe sometimes it is necessary and in those certain circumstances I would be seen as not opposing violence. Is it necessity that causes a stand to be taken on some issues? Society needs to be governed by rules--laws. There needs to be a penalty for breaking those laws. Crime needs to have punishment or corruption is the order of the day.
The debate on capital punishment stirs up a number of questions. Does capital punishment deter crime? I think the answer to that question is yes. People who are capable of committing murder might only hesitate because of the possibility of getting caught and if they knew that the penalty was death I think they might hesitate long enough to change their minds. As my husband says, the death penalty definitely keeps the murderer who is executed from committing more crimes. Many people have suffered and died at the hands of repeat offenders. However, the death penalty loses its effectiveness as a deterent if it is not immediately carried out. It is absolutely necessary to prove someone's guilt beyond any reasonable doubt before they are found guilty and especially before they are condemned to die but in cases where someone has been proven to be a murderer and sentenced to die then they shouldn't sit on death row for 10, 20, 30, or even more years. Do the criminals improve their lives during that time? Do they make positive contributions? Do they make any progress toward making restitution? Perhaps they do--or maybe they spend most of their time trying to avoid dying...
Is capital punishment cruel and unusual? Is it any more cruel than having someone be on death row---awaiting a death that is often ridiculously slow in coming? I think modern day criminals are treated quite humanely prior to execution. The majority of murder victims do not get to choose their final meal or their last words, they do not get to say goodbye to friends and family, meet with a member of the clergy, and most do not get a chance to have people protest the senselessness of their death. As for methods---firing squads are more humane for those carrying out the execution because it isn't just one hand that flips the switch or gives the injection. A firing squad also seems to be a quicker execution. I really do not feel qualified to choose the most humane way for a person to die. Who is qualified?
What about a person's background? From the sounds of it Ronnie Lee Gardner was never really taught right from wrong. He was taught that bad behavior was acceptable or even desirable. I feel sorry for the boy that he was but not for the man he became. There are many people who have horrendous childhoods who do not choose to take the life of another person.
What about the possibility of people changing their ways? What is accomplished by taking the life of a murderer? It doesn't bring back his victims. The only way a criminal can really show that they have changed their ways is by being released back into society. That poses a definite risk. Has the criminal changed their life to the extent that it's worth the risk of innocent lives? I am a hopeful person. I like to believe that people can change for the better but we have to look to their actions. Can a person who has no regard for the value of human life play a positive role in society? Do we become murderers ourselves when taking the life of a murderer? In war it is us and them. We are defending our country and our people but in the eyes of our opponents we are the enemy---the murderers. Again, it is a matter of perspective. But there is a clear perspective--a right perspective--a complete perspective of the big picture. It seems when we have done wrong we believe in a God that is loving and kind. When we have been wronged we believe in a God that is just. I believe that God is love and that he is the source of all truth and justice. God's love is filled with justice and his justice filled with love. Justice and love are not separate in the eyes of God...
Capital punishment is not an easy topic. There are no easy answers. I do believe there are right answers. I am thankful that as the scriptures say, 'God and Christ are the judge of all'.
It has been more than a week since I read about Ronnie Lee Gardner's execution in the newspaper and I am just now sitting down to try and explore my feelings as I type out words that I hope will pull together to make some sense...
I had read the articles about Gardner's crimes, his sad childhood, and about his victims. There was no doubt of his guilt and plenty of evidence of the far-reaching effects of the pain and sorrow he had caused but when I read the account of his execution I found my spirit wincing and tears coming to my eyes. I think my reaction came from a sorrow for a life that had been stained and torn by bad choices and for lives senselessly and prematurely taken or negatively impacted as a result of those bad choices. There is something terribly sad about coming to a point where human beings need to be put down like rabid dogs.
As a youth I was in favor of capital punishment mainly because my parents were, then as I grew older and starting thinking more for myself I stayed in favor of capital punishment because I thought it made sense that when someone willfully and coldly takes the life of another human being that the penalty should be to give up their right to live. An eye for eye, a life for a life...I guess I still believe in capital punishment---as long as someone else carries it out---
I looked up my church's position on capital punishment and the official statement basically said that those matters are left in the hands of the law and the church does not promote or oppose capital punishment. At first, I thought wait---how can you neither promote nor oppose something? Are we not either for or against something? On further thought I decided that capital punishment is not something to promote for the same reason it was so hard to read about the details of the execution---it isn't something that fits comfortably into most views of human society. For example, I don't promote violence but I do believe sometimes it is necessary and in those certain circumstances I would be seen as not opposing violence. Is it necessity that causes a stand to be taken on some issues? Society needs to be governed by rules--laws. There needs to be a penalty for breaking those laws. Crime needs to have punishment or corruption is the order of the day.
The debate on capital punishment stirs up a number of questions. Does capital punishment deter crime? I think the answer to that question is yes. People who are capable of committing murder might only hesitate because of the possibility of getting caught and if they knew that the penalty was death I think they might hesitate long enough to change their minds. As my husband says, the death penalty definitely keeps the murderer who is executed from committing more crimes. Many people have suffered and died at the hands of repeat offenders. However, the death penalty loses its effectiveness as a deterent if it is not immediately carried out. It is absolutely necessary to prove someone's guilt beyond any reasonable doubt before they are found guilty and especially before they are condemned to die but in cases where someone has been proven to be a murderer and sentenced to die then they shouldn't sit on death row for 10, 20, 30, or even more years. Do the criminals improve their lives during that time? Do they make positive contributions? Do they make any progress toward making restitution? Perhaps they do--or maybe they spend most of their time trying to avoid dying...
Is capital punishment cruel and unusual? Is it any more cruel than having someone be on death row---awaiting a death that is often ridiculously slow in coming? I think modern day criminals are treated quite humanely prior to execution. The majority of murder victims do not get to choose their final meal or their last words, they do not get to say goodbye to friends and family, meet with a member of the clergy, and most do not get a chance to have people protest the senselessness of their death. As for methods---firing squads are more humane for those carrying out the execution because it isn't just one hand that flips the switch or gives the injection. A firing squad also seems to be a quicker execution. I really do not feel qualified to choose the most humane way for a person to die. Who is qualified?
What about a person's background? From the sounds of it Ronnie Lee Gardner was never really taught right from wrong. He was taught that bad behavior was acceptable or even desirable. I feel sorry for the boy that he was but not for the man he became. There are many people who have horrendous childhoods who do not choose to take the life of another person.
What about the possibility of people changing their ways? What is accomplished by taking the life of a murderer? It doesn't bring back his victims. The only way a criminal can really show that they have changed their ways is by being released back into society. That poses a definite risk. Has the criminal changed their life to the extent that it's worth the risk of innocent lives? I am a hopeful person. I like to believe that people can change for the better but we have to look to their actions. Can a person who has no regard for the value of human life play a positive role in society? Do we become murderers ourselves when taking the life of a murderer? In war it is us and them. We are defending our country and our people but in the eyes of our opponents we are the enemy---the murderers. Again, it is a matter of perspective. But there is a clear perspective--a right perspective--a complete perspective of the big picture. It seems when we have done wrong we believe in a God that is loving and kind. When we have been wronged we believe in a God that is just. I believe that God is love and that he is the source of all truth and justice. God's love is filled with justice and his justice filled with love. Justice and love are not separate in the eyes of God...
Capital punishment is not an easy topic. There are no easy answers. I do believe there are right answers. I am thankful that as the scriptures say, 'God and Christ are the judge of all'.
Monday, June 21, 2010
Gardens
In the past my husband and I have just barely dabbled in gardening. Even now I feel like we are just masquerading as gardeners when it comes to a vegetable garden---but this year we have taken more serious strides toward becoming genuine gardeners. I read several online articles about square foot gardening (I now have The book on square foot gardening by Mel Bartholomew--he makes gardening look so easy anyone can do it--even me) and we added some good soil and highly recommended local compost to our three grow boxes. We divided each box into 12 inch sections, my husband made some vertical trellises for the tomatoes, peas, and pumpkins, and we put up a fence to keep our wild dogs out. We were diligent in protecting our plants from a couple of unseasonable cold spells and we are faithfully watering and weeding. So far so good!
Gardening really is therapeutic. It has been said many times and in many ways but there is something about getting your hands in the dirt---planting, weeding, watering, harvesting--- that feels very human--very right--and something very much more...I have always found it satisfying on some deeper level (or perhaps higher level?)of existence to find such natural comparisons between gardening and life.
Two bare root berry bushes were on sale--one blueberry and one blackberry. We know nothing about growing berry bushes--let alone bare root berry bushes but we were buying things to plant and we could feel the beginnings of a green thumb stirring within us--so we added them to the cart and planted them with no knowledge and lots of hope. I lovingly referred to them for the first few weeks as our little stick plants. We watered them and put peat moss around them to help warm the soil during our Spring cold spell. The sturdiest looking of the two sent out a runner that looks very promising but the other little stick remained a stick. My husband didn't hold out much hope for it but I insisted on continuing to water it because it was still mostly green. Today I saw that our feeble little stick has also sent out a little runner. It is alive!
Life lesson: Don't give up on something that isn't showing immediate promise. Within a stick is the potential to become a flourishing bush that will bear delicious fruit--within an unimpressive, lowly looking human being is potential for a great productive person.
Another item in a sale bin that we knew nothing about was some shallots. Soon after I planted them, two of the three sprouted and started to grow. I watered all three but I saw no signs of the other one growing so I finally stopped watering it. Well only a couple of days after I stopped watering it the non-growing shallot sprouted! It wasn't a dud as I had started to suspect, it was just slower than the others. Why did I give up on the shallot but not the berry bush? I think part of the reason was because the berry bush stood alone. I couldn't completely compare it to the other bush because it was a different kind of bush. The shallot on the other hand was sharing the same 12 inch square of soil with others of its kind that were actually growing.
Life lesson: How helpful are comparisons? How fair are we in our expectations? How many people go without receiving life-giving things like love and attention? There are many unwatered plants of the human variety sitting in classrooms, offices, churches, and even homes.
C.S. Lewis said, It is a serious thing to live in a society of possible gods and goddesses, to remember that the dullest and most uninteresting person you talk to may one day be a creature which, if you saw it now, you would be srongly tempted to worship, or else a horror and a corruption such as you now meet, if at all, only in a nightmare. All day long we are, in some degree, helping each other to one or the other of these destinations. Who are we helping to grow and who are we leaving unwatered?
I have a problem especially in my flower garden of distinguishing desirable plants from weeds, especially when the weeds grow very close to the plants. It is definitely good and necessary to stay on top of weeds in a garden so the weeds don't take over but in the flower garden as well as the vegetable garden it is sometimes necessary to let the plants grow and mature a bit before we are able to safely and successfully pull up the weeds without pulling up the plants.
Life Lesson: We learn about the wisdom of this in the New Testament in Matthew---The parable of the wheat and the tares. The sower tells his servants to let the wheat and the tares grow up together until the time of harvest and then the tares can be removed without uprooting the wheat. Too many times I have been so worried about the 'weeds' in my children that I have been too quick to pull them out with nagging and lectures and I have harmed the delicate and growing 'wheat'. It is important to be watchful for life's weeds growing in our children do our very best to keep them from taking root but it is also important to not be so focused on weeding that we neglect our tender and patient nurturing.
Beyond a nice looking or well producing garden I want to make sure I appreciate and use what I grow.
Life Lesson: I think we need to show our children not only the miracle of a plant growing from a seed, or the benefits of hard work in keeping a garden, but we need to show them how to harvest the fruits of their labors, how to benefit from those fruits, how to share their harvest, and how to lay things up in store.
If I think too much about all of these analogies I will be even more intimidated by gardening and by life...But I will just keep pulling weeds, watering, hoping, and praying my garden to grow. Three garden boxes can yield quite the bounteous harvest of produce and life lessons.
Happy growing!
Gardening really is therapeutic. It has been said many times and in many ways but there is something about getting your hands in the dirt---planting, weeding, watering, harvesting--- that feels very human--very right--and something very much more...I have always found it satisfying on some deeper level (or perhaps higher level?)of existence to find such natural comparisons between gardening and life.
Two bare root berry bushes were on sale--one blueberry and one blackberry. We know nothing about growing berry bushes--let alone bare root berry bushes but we were buying things to plant and we could feel the beginnings of a green thumb stirring within us--so we added them to the cart and planted them with no knowledge and lots of hope. I lovingly referred to them for the first few weeks as our little stick plants. We watered them and put peat moss around them to help warm the soil during our Spring cold spell. The sturdiest looking of the two sent out a runner that looks very promising but the other little stick remained a stick. My husband didn't hold out much hope for it but I insisted on continuing to water it because it was still mostly green. Today I saw that our feeble little stick has also sent out a little runner. It is alive!
Life lesson: Don't give up on something that isn't showing immediate promise. Within a stick is the potential to become a flourishing bush that will bear delicious fruit--within an unimpressive, lowly looking human being is potential for a great productive person.
Another item in a sale bin that we knew nothing about was some shallots. Soon after I planted them, two of the three sprouted and started to grow. I watered all three but I saw no signs of the other one growing so I finally stopped watering it. Well only a couple of days after I stopped watering it the non-growing shallot sprouted! It wasn't a dud as I had started to suspect, it was just slower than the others. Why did I give up on the shallot but not the berry bush? I think part of the reason was because the berry bush stood alone. I couldn't completely compare it to the other bush because it was a different kind of bush. The shallot on the other hand was sharing the same 12 inch square of soil with others of its kind that were actually growing.
Life lesson: How helpful are comparisons? How fair are we in our expectations? How many people go without receiving life-giving things like love and attention? There are many unwatered plants of the human variety sitting in classrooms, offices, churches, and even homes.
C.S. Lewis said, It is a serious thing to live in a society of possible gods and goddesses, to remember that the dullest and most uninteresting person you talk to may one day be a creature which, if you saw it now, you would be srongly tempted to worship, or else a horror and a corruption such as you now meet, if at all, only in a nightmare. All day long we are, in some degree, helping each other to one or the other of these destinations. Who are we helping to grow and who are we leaving unwatered?
I have a problem especially in my flower garden of distinguishing desirable plants from weeds, especially when the weeds grow very close to the plants. It is definitely good and necessary to stay on top of weeds in a garden so the weeds don't take over but in the flower garden as well as the vegetable garden it is sometimes necessary to let the plants grow and mature a bit before we are able to safely and successfully pull up the weeds without pulling up the plants.
Life Lesson: We learn about the wisdom of this in the New Testament in Matthew---The parable of the wheat and the tares. The sower tells his servants to let the wheat and the tares grow up together until the time of harvest and then the tares can be removed without uprooting the wheat. Too many times I have been so worried about the 'weeds' in my children that I have been too quick to pull them out with nagging and lectures and I have harmed the delicate and growing 'wheat'. It is important to be watchful for life's weeds growing in our children do our very best to keep them from taking root but it is also important to not be so focused on weeding that we neglect our tender and patient nurturing.
Beyond a nice looking or well producing garden I want to make sure I appreciate and use what I grow.
Life Lesson: I think we need to show our children not only the miracle of a plant growing from a seed, or the benefits of hard work in keeping a garden, but we need to show them how to harvest the fruits of their labors, how to benefit from those fruits, how to share their harvest, and how to lay things up in store.
If I think too much about all of these analogies I will be even more intimidated by gardening and by life...But I will just keep pulling weeds, watering, hoping, and praying my garden to grow. Three garden boxes can yield quite the bounteous harvest of produce and life lessons.
Happy growing!
Monday, June 14, 2010
Look That Cloud Is Shaped Like A Colon
I am finally doing something tomorrow that I have put off for awhile. I am doing something that is strongly recommended for people my age---something responsible--I am going in for a colonoscopy. I think it is easy to see why such procedures keep getting pushed farther down on the old To Do list. A colonoscopy is about as much fun to look forward to as a root canal only a bit more personal. I wish the health and well being of my colon could be assessed by having me open my mouth and stick out my tongue but instead I need to be part of a weird Kodak moment. To add to my apprehension I haven't even met the doctor who will be doing the test. We should have got together for lunch first or something but I guess sometimes it's better this way. We put a lot of trust sometimes in people we don't know. Oddly enough it is usually in situations involving our precious bodies.We like to go to someone we know to get our car fixed or our hair done...
Anyway--I have been on a liquid diet today. I think it will do me good and I do need to be cleaned up for my pictures tomorrow but I really like to sink my teeth into food. I'm the kind of person who likes chunks of vegetables in my soup, pieces of candy in my ice cream or shakes, fruit in my Jello, and ice in my water. Oh well, it is only for today and besides the Miralax did give texture to my Gatorade. I still have teeth so why am I complaining?
I am going to try and be optimistic about this rite of passage (moving closer to old). Perhaps tomorrow I will write about the bright side of getting a colonoscopy---about the humor in getting a colonoscopy---just the highlights?--or maybe the next day I will write the ABCs of my aches and pains... I am just getting a glimpse of the scope (pun intended) of fun activities that come along with aging.
I am seriously thankful that I live in a day and age when we have tests that give us early detection of life-threatening problems and it is important and wise to take advantage of such positive opportunities. Another upside of living with modern technology is spellcheck and I just got a good giggle when my spellcheck highlighted colonscopy and gave cloudscape and kaleidoscope as the suggestions for correction. Oh the analogies I could draw...but I won't.
Well, gotta run..(Sorry I couldn't resist)
Anyway--I have been on a liquid diet today. I think it will do me good and I do need to be cleaned up for my pictures tomorrow but I really like to sink my teeth into food. I'm the kind of person who likes chunks of vegetables in my soup, pieces of candy in my ice cream or shakes, fruit in my Jello, and ice in my water. Oh well, it is only for today and besides the Miralax did give texture to my Gatorade. I still have teeth so why am I complaining?
I am going to try and be optimistic about this rite of passage (moving closer to old). Perhaps tomorrow I will write about the bright side of getting a colonoscopy---about the humor in getting a colonoscopy---just the highlights?--or maybe the next day I will write the ABCs of my aches and pains... I am just getting a glimpse of the scope (pun intended) of fun activities that come along with aging.
I am seriously thankful that I live in a day and age when we have tests that give us early detection of life-threatening problems and it is important and wise to take advantage of such positive opportunities. Another upside of living with modern technology is spellcheck and I just got a good giggle when my spellcheck highlighted colonscopy and gave cloudscape and kaleidoscope as the suggestions for correction. Oh the analogies I could draw...but I won't.
Well, gotta run..(Sorry I couldn't resist)
Friday, June 11, 2010
Musing While Mowing
Contemplations while mowing the lawn---besides thinking how non-lush our back lawn is (It feels like old carpet with too many worn spots), how nice our garden is looking compared to last year, and how lucky I was to finish mowing just before the sprinklers came on.
Actually my contemplating started last night after reading a newspaper column. The column is locally written and has become centered around the author's weight loss journey. He lost quite a lot of weight and has worked at having a more active and healthy lifestyle but has been putting the weight back on and falling back into bad habits over the past year. I have glanced at the column periodically but noticed that the topic was frequently how the author was struggling or falling short so I found it consoling but not exactly motivating. Last night it hit home and made me sad to read it as the author was talking about how hard it is to write a column about weight loss and then fail and how now he wants to do better. The man has a good sense of humor but his funny words are lightly coated with frustration and discouragement lurks between the lines. Last night's column was sad but motivating. I hope he hangs in there---maybe I can too.
I don't like to think of myself as overweight but I am because I weigh more than what I should and most importantly more than what I feel happy weighing. I bulge and I jiggle--too much of me moves when I move and seems to keep moving when I stop (sorry--lovely image) and I just look at myself out of the corner of my eye when I see my reflection in a full length mirror--hoping to see less of myself and afraid to see all of myself.
I was always the skinny kid growing up. I liked that identity. My parents thought it was great when I asked for seconds and I could eat whatever I wanted with no guilt. My mom even took me to the doctor once because she was worried about how thin I was. There was nothing wrong--I was just thin. I was always thin but I have also always had a sweet tooth and I have always equated eating with celebrating and having a good time. After I got married and started eating regular meals (that stopped during my college days and living-on-my-own days) I started putting on weight which at first was a good thing. Having babies and getting older naturally changed my body and my metabolism---but not my sweet tooth or my emotional connections with food. I found even more reasons to eat junk. To make a long story short...I eat too much of what I shouldn't, I eat for the wrong reasons, I don't exercise enough and I have been going to change all of that tomorrow, Monday, after the holidays, when school starts, after my birthday---I am headed down a predictable path with all of this...a path that goes in perpetual circles.
Anyway, I was thinking of how we get in our own way. I have been blessed with a good metabolism and pretty good health. I also have height in my favor and a build that is good at hiding excess weight. I have never been an athlete but I have done some athletic things. I ran a 5K a few years back, (I run like a hare for the first minute or two then I run like a turtle if a turtle could run) I've hiked, I've gone on river runs, I've Disco danced for hours and even went rock climbing once. I know I will not continue to escape the consequences of my bad eating habits. I have already had a few minor problems that could be a direct result of not treating my body as well as I should have. I was contemplating how possibly different my body and my life could be right now if I would have corrected my course long ago. Perhaps I would be running 10Ks or marathons, playing tennis with my kids, going on hikes or bicycle rides with my husband, or just simply not afraid to really look at myself in the mirror. Don't get me wrong, I find enjoyment in my life and I do stay pretty active but I can't help but wonder...or worry...maybe I have passed on bad things to my kids because of my bad habits. I have already apologized for passing on bad eyesight and beige tooth enamel--those got passed on to me. My mom was always overly concerned about her weight--I was the only kid in my school--I thought anyway-- who took sandwiches made out of low-calorie bread and my dad had a major sweet tooth--maybe I am genetically hard wired to like sugar, sugar, sugar--but my dad had more self-control and he didn't give birth to four children. I don't know if I genetically passed on bad eating habits to my kids but I have set a bad example and maybe even caused problems for them when they were developing as babies---scary thoughts--One habit I hope to pass on is the habit of not giving up on trying to do the right thing. I'm rambling...surprised?
I wonder if there's a teenager out there who could be a marathon runner or an Olympic swimmer if they hadn't started smoking. I wonder what discoveries could have been made by a once bright young mind dimmed by prescription drugs or what great things could have been accomplished by someone whose confidence was lost in binging and whose boundless energy was suffocated by obeisity...
I know some people take excellent care of their bodies and still succumb to disease, but they did their best and that has to be a soothing balm compared with swallowing the hard pill of knowing you led yourself to your downfall. There are people who smoke and drink for years and end up living to a ripe (perhaps leathery and slightly pickled) old age but sometimes just living a lot of years doesn't win you any prizes. There are triathletes who die of heart attacks walking down the street. There are people who have never smoked who die of lung cancer. Life has interesting twists and turns and things that seem to our eyes incongruous or grossly unfair. I do know that there are no accidents with God---It doesn't make sense that something would catch him by surprise. I also believe that we do really reap what we sow in one way or another. I just can't help but think of the detours or short cuts or just plain bumpy roads we take because of our choices and how painful it would be to look back over our lives and see the times when we voluntarily left the road and what happened or could have happened on the smooth and clearly marked road while we were off bumping along on the ruts and eating dust. So much to think about...
I know there are people out there who have lost my whole body weight from their bodies. I know there are people who would like to be as thin as I am not. I know I am not the only one who shakes my head when I see current pictures of myself or thinks about putting a life size picture of myself of how I looked 30 years ago over my mirror to take the place of my reflection. I know I'm not the only one who thinks about how much better I need to treat my body while eating out of a bag of chocolate chips. Like the man in the newspaper column---I will keep trying to make better choices. And if my kids read this... I'm sorry...but you can rise above genetics and bad examples.
And---mowing the lawn is good physical exercise and good mental exercise---
Actually my contemplating started last night after reading a newspaper column. The column is locally written and has become centered around the author's weight loss journey. He lost quite a lot of weight and has worked at having a more active and healthy lifestyle but has been putting the weight back on and falling back into bad habits over the past year. I have glanced at the column periodically but noticed that the topic was frequently how the author was struggling or falling short so I found it consoling but not exactly motivating. Last night it hit home and made me sad to read it as the author was talking about how hard it is to write a column about weight loss and then fail and how now he wants to do better. The man has a good sense of humor but his funny words are lightly coated with frustration and discouragement lurks between the lines. Last night's column was sad but motivating. I hope he hangs in there---maybe I can too.
I don't like to think of myself as overweight but I am because I weigh more than what I should and most importantly more than what I feel happy weighing. I bulge and I jiggle--too much of me moves when I move and seems to keep moving when I stop (sorry--lovely image) and I just look at myself out of the corner of my eye when I see my reflection in a full length mirror--hoping to see less of myself and afraid to see all of myself.
I was always the skinny kid growing up. I liked that identity. My parents thought it was great when I asked for seconds and I could eat whatever I wanted with no guilt. My mom even took me to the doctor once because she was worried about how thin I was. There was nothing wrong--I was just thin. I was always thin but I have also always had a sweet tooth and I have always equated eating with celebrating and having a good time. After I got married and started eating regular meals (that stopped during my college days and living-on-my-own days) I started putting on weight which at first was a good thing. Having babies and getting older naturally changed my body and my metabolism---but not my sweet tooth or my emotional connections with food. I found even more reasons to eat junk. To make a long story short...I eat too much of what I shouldn't, I eat for the wrong reasons, I don't exercise enough and I have been going to change all of that tomorrow, Monday, after the holidays, when school starts, after my birthday---I am headed down a predictable path with all of this...a path that goes in perpetual circles.
Anyway, I was thinking of how we get in our own way. I have been blessed with a good metabolism and pretty good health. I also have height in my favor and a build that is good at hiding excess weight. I have never been an athlete but I have done some athletic things. I ran a 5K a few years back, (I run like a hare for the first minute or two then I run like a turtle if a turtle could run) I've hiked, I've gone on river runs, I've Disco danced for hours and even went rock climbing once. I know I will not continue to escape the consequences of my bad eating habits. I have already had a few minor problems that could be a direct result of not treating my body as well as I should have. I was contemplating how possibly different my body and my life could be right now if I would have corrected my course long ago. Perhaps I would be running 10Ks or marathons, playing tennis with my kids, going on hikes or bicycle rides with my husband, or just simply not afraid to really look at myself in the mirror. Don't get me wrong, I find enjoyment in my life and I do stay pretty active but I can't help but wonder...or worry...maybe I have passed on bad things to my kids because of my bad habits. I have already apologized for passing on bad eyesight and beige tooth enamel--those got passed on to me. My mom was always overly concerned about her weight--I was the only kid in my school--I thought anyway-- who took sandwiches made out of low-calorie bread and my dad had a major sweet tooth--maybe I am genetically hard wired to like sugar, sugar, sugar--but my dad had more self-control and he didn't give birth to four children. I don't know if I genetically passed on bad eating habits to my kids but I have set a bad example and maybe even caused problems for them when they were developing as babies---scary thoughts--One habit I hope to pass on is the habit of not giving up on trying to do the right thing. I'm rambling...surprised?
I wonder if there's a teenager out there who could be a marathon runner or an Olympic swimmer if they hadn't started smoking. I wonder what discoveries could have been made by a once bright young mind dimmed by prescription drugs or what great things could have been accomplished by someone whose confidence was lost in binging and whose boundless energy was suffocated by obeisity...
I know some people take excellent care of their bodies and still succumb to disease, but they did their best and that has to be a soothing balm compared with swallowing the hard pill of knowing you led yourself to your downfall. There are people who smoke and drink for years and end up living to a ripe (perhaps leathery and slightly pickled) old age but sometimes just living a lot of years doesn't win you any prizes. There are triathletes who die of heart attacks walking down the street. There are people who have never smoked who die of lung cancer. Life has interesting twists and turns and things that seem to our eyes incongruous or grossly unfair. I do know that there are no accidents with God---It doesn't make sense that something would catch him by surprise. I also believe that we do really reap what we sow in one way or another. I just can't help but think of the detours or short cuts or just plain bumpy roads we take because of our choices and how painful it would be to look back over our lives and see the times when we voluntarily left the road and what happened or could have happened on the smooth and clearly marked road while we were off bumping along on the ruts and eating dust. So much to think about...
I know there are people out there who have lost my whole body weight from their bodies. I know there are people who would like to be as thin as I am not. I know I am not the only one who shakes my head when I see current pictures of myself or thinks about putting a life size picture of myself of how I looked 30 years ago over my mirror to take the place of my reflection. I know I'm not the only one who thinks about how much better I need to treat my body while eating out of a bag of chocolate chips. Like the man in the newspaper column---I will keep trying to make better choices. And if my kids read this... I'm sorry...but you can rise above genetics and bad examples.
And---mowing the lawn is good physical exercise and good mental exercise---
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