death

Life Is A Joke

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This is not said with sarcasm. Life truly is laugh-out-loud funny if you see not only the present but the future. The humor is obvious when you get out of your own shoes. It’s so easy, so human, so self-defeating to see life only through our own eyes, and not the “Lens of Reality.”*

The Reality is, over–, sorry, I keep using the 800 billion number, but no one will ever know. Know what? How many humans have died since the “Dawn of Time for Mankind.”**

So many of us have died since that time and yet when we are born, we still assume life will never end. Then it does. Isn’t that hilarious? You can judge your happiness by how long you were able to feel invincible, how long you knew in your bones you had free will and self-determination…if you just ate right, exercised right, studied history…maybe…

But those activities only give us a few good years before the pre-determined “Darkness of Death” descends.***

As a funny aside, as we wait for death we build bridges, languages, relationships, legacies, and a hot rod or two. We make our mark on a world no one will remember in 100 years, unless they google it. We might even think we have life figured out and know how to live and enjoy the time.

The sad thing about death that sucks the humor from our perspective is when we hit that mark, that time when the Darkness is no longer sublimated, no longer repressed, no longer denied. Thank God, He gave us this ability to note and ponder our own “Decline and Death”. Isn’t that funny? How many times have you thought about how animals live and die, like Red, my old dog? In fact, there are stories of old people who walk into the woods with the intention they will never come back out of the woods on their own two feet. It’s a form of senicide never talked about. Like senility. And sentient. And sanity. And sentence, as in Life Sentence.

Ah, who cares. As I ponder my own life and pontificate profuse and plentiful episodes of progress and prowess, the paramount point seems to be about life AFTER death. Assuming we can ponder and perceive our own death, we will understand being dead a lot longer than alive. A joke, right? We get 70, 80, 90, maybe even a hundred years here, and then the rest of eternity…where, again? Darkness? Oblivion? Heaven? The soul of an Aberdeen Angus or Belted Galloway cow in the Scottish Highlands?****

As a young man I knew the meaning of life and reveled in being the only one who knew. Now, life has finally made the old joke totally comprehended: “If you want to make God laugh, tell Him about your plans.” We should try and laugh with Him.

As I posted this essay, it’s shortness became apparent. An omen? The Male Life Expectancy number is right around the corner…

*Yep. Made that up on the spot. Like it?

**Again: made up, but I’m not so proud of this one. The beginnings of humans is so far back and so obscure, maybe there was no dawn, we spurted into existence at dusk. The Dusk of Mankind sounds ominous, though, so let’s agree to the Midday of Mankind.

***Better but only because of alliteration.

****If I am to come back as a cow, I hope it will be in a warmer climate or one where my existence is revered.

Addiction: a Good Thing?

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A study published in the journal JAMA Psychiatry in February (2026) found that “a person’s spiritual belief or a steady religious practice had a protective effect from addiction.”

It’s hard for the unaddicted (sic) to understand the addicted. But that’s because us unaddicted only see addiction in relation to bad things, like drugs, sex, alcohol, gambling. It gives addiction a type of stigma it probably shouldn’t have and doesn’t deserve. Why? Ai describes addiction as “a chronic condition influenced by genetics, environment, and life experiences. It is characterized by the compulsive use of a substance or engagement in behavior despite harmful consequences.”

And more, from Ai: “The word has its roots in the Latin word, ‘addictus’…which means ‘to deliver’, ‘to yield’, or ‘to devote’.” Anyone see religious tones in this old word? Not yet? Per Ai, the Romans had a “legal process called addictio” where a person who could not pay their debts was “given over” or “assigned” by a judge to their creditor, “and literally became a slave to the person owed the money.” This process resulted in “the addicted” being essentially a slave to his or her new “owner”.

The Roman “legal” addiction sounds bad, but can there be anything bad about being addicted to a God? Jesus? Healthy eating? Exercise? Especially if that addiction keeps us from the common destructive addictions of our modern world? Perhaps our modern “addiction” should be redefined by context and results instead of past experience and harmful consequence. Yes, religious addiction can have “harmful consequences” when it turns into zealotry and fanaticism, but at least it won’t rot your teeth.

The Journal Article does not distinguish between Spiritual Addiction and the regular, researched Medical Addiction. Why not? It’s clear religious people “yield” and “devote” so is it possible intent makes a difference? Does anyone take up a drug with the intent to become addicted? And no one unintentionally “stumbles” into a spiritual addiction, unless they had existing psychological problems, right? That last sentence is loaded, isn’t it. Is it saying you can’t have spiritual faith unless you already have psychological problems?

Would it even be a nicer world if everyone were simply addicted to religion?

Maybe, but one of the hardest parts about religion is the question of “Which One?” Sharia Law in the Muslim world, for example, is heaven to some and hell to others of that very faith, let alone infidels. And Christians did burn witches at the stake in the OG.*

By the way, Ai “Sharia Law” for its literal Arabic translation.

Friends of mine recently discussed religion, Karl Marx’s “The Opium of The People”, and how organized religion influenced the World. The Crusades, Sharia Law, Sin, and redemption were the themes this past Easter. We did not try to put a number on how many people have died from being addicted to the wrong religion for the time or society in which they lived.

Addiction, then, is it good or bad? Healthy or unhealthy? Productive, life-affirming, or destructive and life-threatening?

Like everything else in our Dichotomous Universe (Old Testament, New Testament?), life is what we make it. Choose your addictions carefully.**

*OG: The Old, Good days? OG, per Ai, comes from the hip-hop “Original Gangster” and overtime morphed into “Old School”, or “Old Days”. Yes, it still fits. Those witch burning Christians were probably the Original Gangsters.

**Yes, you can have more than one. Who knew?

Things Not Understood

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Let’s get an easy one out of the way: Why does anyone support Donald Trump as president of this country? When talking with supporters, I usually begin with his 34 felony convictions in a porn star hush money case. Those are CONVICTIONS* by a citizen jury where Trump’s defense lawyers lost their case. They also lost a civil case for sexual abuse and defamation again, in a jury trial. He also admitted in 2016 to sexually assaulting women, saying “I don’t even wait. They let you do it.” Trump-owned companies have also filed for bankruptcy 6 times. Trump has married three women, divorced two and had a child with a fourth. These are all public, undisputed facts. There is also a trove of his sayings and writings where he insults anyone who doesn’t agree with him using slurs and words most of us would never use. When this summary is over, I ask my listener why they support him, especially curious for the answer from religious friends. The response? If there is anything but the shrug of a shoulder, it is: “Yeah, but what about Biden? Clinton?”

And so it goes.

Most of the world, the real world, has an innate duality un-understandable. The best way to describe it is by using the words “Macro” and “Micro”. Macro refers to The Big Picture, The Theory, while Micro refers to the small picture, the details. It’s easy to see this duality in the study of Economics: Macro Theory affects the whole world, Micro details are how we, as individuals navigate our financial lives. But duality is everywhere. In physics, we have the Macro, Classic Laws of Physics where planets roam and humans shoot rockets into space. But then there is the Micro, Quantum Mechanics world where everything disobeys the Classic Laws and things so small we can’t see them do whatever the hell they want. Better minds than mine—and probably yours—have tried to “unite” Classic Laws and Quantum Mechanics for centuries. Einstein, himself called some of the quantum world “Spooky action at a distance” and could not make it fit his General Theory.

And so it goes.

From personal observation the duality of life exists in all of us and runs our lives. Think about your Macro resolution to exercise more and then your Micro failure to get up the next morning. Getting Macro theory into a Micro life is difficult, but why? It is more obvious with religion. How many of us go to worship on Macro Sunday, then swear, lie, cheat, and disrespect others the rest of the week? In fact, religion is probably the hardest place to make the connection between Macro aspirations and Micro responsibilities. Who really wants to live a minute-by-minute, truly religious life?

And before anyone takes offense, this isn’t about you. It is a Macro Essay about how we all compromise Macro Intentions for Micro Utility. Every Day. It is the nature of us all. Period. Much like the saying often mentioned when trying to understand life: “From the minute you are born, you start to die.”** WTF.

One good way to help ourselves get through all this is to think. Think about it.

Yeah, right. Who has time for that, these days.

And so it goes…

*Please note the difference between being Indicted and being Convicted. Almost anyone can be indicted. Convicted? Harder.

**Ai research cannot say who uttered this statement first, but they give some suspects: Seneca (a Roman Philosopher), Manillus (a Roman Poet), and Eleanor Roosevelt, who used it to emphasize living life to the fullest. Common sense makes one wonder why Eleanor, who lived centuries after both Romans, was included in the list? Damn that DEI.

Odd Things Overheard or Stumbled Across

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Several universities and national defense departments are researching how to use Quantum Mechanics in guidance systems. Anyone with a smidgen of science knowledge knows our current navigation apps rely on Global Positioning Systems (GPS) that use radio waves and satellites to pinpoint location and travel. Radio waves move fast but not enough to combat “drift”, and the “accumulation of error over time”* as the waves must go out to the satellite then come back. It doesn’t help that sensors on both sides of the transmission have built in “noise”, creating minor errors. These errors wouldn’t bother 19th Century sailing ships, but our current electronic drones, aircraft and sea vessels could really use an exact location to “let loose the dogs of war”, so to speak. A Tomahawk missile flying 1,000 miles into enemy territory at 500 miles an hour needs nearly perfect navigational guidance to hit the target. Quantum Mechanics** may be able to give an object (nearly) exact location every second and remove (nearly) all “drift”. You can use google or Ai and spend the next few weeks reading about this or take my word for it. Or just not give a crap. GPS is enough for us.

A science show on NPR had a scientist who made a strange statement. He said, and I paraphrase “No one has ever actually seen the universe.” His argument is when we look at things, our eyes don’t really see things, but see the color reflecting off those things. He says there is no color in the universe and the color we see is the reflection of light. Each thing the light bounces off of absorbs or reflects certain wavelengths of the light, and we never see the naked planet or moon** or star we think we are seeing. I’m pretty sure that is how everyday life is, too. It sounds a bit Matrixey, but what if what we think we see, we don’t see?

I’ve had enough trouble in life understanding non-solid things like love, hate, faith, and religion. Now, the solids can’t be trusted?

As science progresses farther and further*** we have to wonder what we will find, and if we want to go there. Months ago, we learned time might not be linear and may move in a circle or other strange dimensions. Now, what if “real” isn’t really “real”? Continued scientific  research could find us going full circle back to birth, or the Big Bang, and what then? Do we repeat things? Overlap?  Share dimensions? Maybe Vonnegut’s Tralfamadoreans were actually  guides, not fictional characters.

As a young essayist, sophistry was a favored tactic during debates about all things major in life. Ai says “sophistry is the use of clever but false arguments, especially with the intention of deceiving someone.”

So…what exactly are all our scientists up to? Are they spouters of sophistry, changing facts with each decade with intent to…what? Should we make them cease and desist**** all scientific endeavors?

Or is sophistry being practiced, now, in this space?

Anyone need a beer? I’m buying.

            *Per Ai. Interesting fact: you are never really exactly where GPS says you are.

            **Thank you for not giggling at the idea of a naked moon.

            ***I stand by this usage by applying my literary license.

****The ever-humorous Ai describes “cease and desist” as a formal “knock it off notice.”

 Death. Death. Death. Death. Not again…

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It’s typed four times in clearly readable Calibri* because typing it three times didn’t make the word sound as ridiculous as it should. Say it four times really, really fast…you’ll get an idea of how strange it is to worry about The Word. We accept a lot of things in life out of our control, why is “that one” any different? If I was 6 feet 8 inches I’d be a retired, rich former NBA basketball star, in the Hall of Fame. Being normal height hasn’t made me fall on the floor lamenting and grieving.

In “Slaughterhouse 5”, Kurt Vonnegut introduces the Tralfamadorians who view death as simple transport, a journey to another place, a minor station in life. Their view is life is never-ending since they exist in 26 dimensions representing all stages of their lives, and they can transport into any stage at any time. Want to revisit your gestation? No problem. Death? Only take a second, unless you want to stay longer. Any time in any individual life is always being played out in some dimension, somewhere, sometime. Death is merely another pearl in a necklace to be enjoyed, admired, and revisited. Neat, right?

Philosophy, science, and science fiction are not as far apart as the rational among us might think.  Learned and tamed Quantum Entanglement could explain the mechanics of the Tralfamadorian dimension travel, for example. But it might be wise to not expose young minds to any of these thoughts, as they leave a lasting impression with sometimes controversial side effects. Billy Pilgrim’s story of travels to his other dimensions was learned when I was 16, when death was not only unnecessary to consider, but touching life anyway, with car accidents, drugs, and the Viet Nam war…in the 1960’s dimension.

It isn’t any pedantic puzzle to solve, then, how an attitude towards death can be skewed, and become slightly comic. Sure, death is inevitable, and could come suddenly, but so what? If we simply move to another dimension, what’s the problem? In religious arguments with all sects, it was the same question: if the dead are actually going to the heaven you describe, why are we sad for them?

From then on, at funerals, I was a reasonably handsome, silent man in a nice suit with tissues in every pocket. The paper product’s sole purpose was to allow grief to transfer from the breaking hearts of grieving widows, mothers, daughters, sisters, and anyone else, to those flimsy papers, then the pockets, and finally, disposal. Rarely were more words than these exchanged: “It’s so nice of you to be here for______.” Accidents, the unlucky military draft, and suicides caused the scene to be repeated often and ended with a final straw**, the death of mom. I didn’t need to be the strong silent Man With Tissues. Where she was going would be a lot better than where she’d been. I was happy for her.

It’s easy to understand grief and loss surrounding death. They have been companions often, but when Death suddenly appears, the theory or assumed reality of where the dead are going should outweigh any selfish sense of loss, shouldn’t it? If given a choice, especially for eternity, we’d all choose heaven instead of sticking around to keep relatives and loved ones from crying. Wouldn’t we? Wait, if everyone went to heaven…

It’s hard to see how the medical world fits into a discussion of death. When doctors cure cancer, it is only a temporary victory, a battle won even though the war will be lost. Is our happiness for the cure and few extra years really that big a deal? It helps to wonder about what would have happened if the world never became “developed”, and we lived the laws of nature, not medicine and man. Is living with someone else’s heart, for example, worth it? Is donating your organs to someone else your goal in life?

Only until we know for sure, only until we have made that journey, it’s open season on end-of-life issues and we will discuss them forever, by ourselves or our progeny.

Conclusion: The journey matters. Not The End. Say it four times really, really fast.

Final note: The Calamities of the past three years stress-tested the opinions expressed in this post. Winning the battle rang the bell that saved them for another round. Can’t wait to see what’s next.***

And apologies for bringing this subject up for the umpteenth time. It’s not my fault if people keep dying.

PS Looked it up and the last time you were lectured about Death was January 11, 2026, when Bob Weir died, a Grateful Dead. See? It’s not my fault.

*Which the wordpress gods will change to New Times Roman.

**There is never a “Final Straw”. And loss never ends.

***Sarcasm?

Death Again, Sorry, At Least It’s Not Mine

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Aw, death.  It comes for thee, blah blah blah. Articles, movies, songs, pole dancers*, all die, so why we talking** about it, again? Haven’t we beat this subject to…death. Hm.

            There are deaths that seem natural and even poetic, almost hard to grieve over. The 84-year-old husband who dies days after his wife. The young, inspirational woman who loses a valiant, public battle with her cancer to raise awareness for the disease. The man who lay on top of his kids at a school shooting to save the kids’ lives.

Most of us, however, will die a normal, semi-private, wish-we-had-more-time death, hopefully with loved ones near, if not right there, at the moment it happens. Maybe we will have advanced notice or maybe we won’t. Meh, that’s life. Death, death. Or more accurately, that is life and death, or…let’s move on.

There are also the “surprising” deaths, like your favorite sports star dying in a plane crash. Or your co-worker dying in a car crash. Both lead to this statement: “I just saw (fill in any name) yesterday”, often with the added “(Name) looked great.”

As interesting as the many different ways death presents itself is, rather than list them all, we’ll talk about the one just learned today. It’s a situation probably only experienced by seniors, but you decide.

Bob Weir died. Anything? He mean anything to you? No? He didn’t to me, either…at first. I passed over the headline and moved on to more interesting and personal stuff in the news this morning. There was also breakfast, opening the blinds, bathroom duty, other tasks, and Bob Weir. To shorten a long story, it took about an hour for Bob Weir to work his way through the detritus of hoarded memory, shake off the dust, and explode into the front of my brain. I was never a Grateful Dead (Ironic?) Head. (You do know the Grateful Dead, right? If not, I’ll continue, anyway, and not mention the “g” word.) it was hard to be a living person in the 60 and 70s, though, and not know some of their songs and at least 3,438 of their rabid fans., The Dead Heads. My lack of even partial commitment to the rabid fandom was probably because The Grateful Dead’s best work was done live, in concerts…crowds that cost money. I hated crowds and hated spending money to be in them.

In 1972, The Dead cunningly put out a triple record live album, recorded in Europe. So, an American band defies current marketing rigor and puts out a THREE RECORD album of almost their entire Spring concert work in Europe. No hit singles. No influencers chirping about it. No late-night talk show publicity. Just BANG, here’s a three-record set of our best work. Deal with it. It was in 1973, in Mike’s parents’ attic, with speakers up to the eaves, no adults home, a dime bag on the coffee table, and four quarts of Boones Farm wine, when I finally learned the reason for the Dead Head Fan Club. And it happened with no crowd, no entry fee, since Mike bought both the album and “refreshments”, and no “Turn that shite down!” scream from the ground floor. It was heaven on earth. 

It didn’t make me turn all gooey or anything, and it never led to my purchase of anything the Dead did, but the music, the musicianship, and the time was extraordinary. And I learned band members names. We did the same show nearly every night for a month, until my friend’s parents came home and then…life. No more Dead for me. I never listened to any of those three records again. I married several times, had kids, never turned the volume of anything up over halfway, and got on with life, allowing the Month of The Dead to deposit itself into a long-term memory folder to be filed away alphabetically, presumably.

Until Bob Weir died.

Some long-term memories we don’t remember until a really, really hard jabbing*** with something pointy. Like death.

The Month of The Dead in 1973, is hereby officially remembered, recognized and celebrated as A Special Time in A Good Life, and is added to my google calendar so it won’t be forgotten, again. Thank you for dying Grateful Dead guitarist and founder, Bob Weir. We hardly knew you but will never forget you.

Amen.

            *Just checking to see if you’re actually reading.

            **Ai grammar police say this should be: “why ARE we talking”. Feck them.

            ***Ai: “make this wording more concise.” Me: Devour feculence, Ai.

Not What You Think

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To begin, a very sincere apology to a dear friend who thinks this will be about Death. She was told to watch for it and “enjoy” it, too. What an idiot, I am. Who wants a post about death four days before Christmas? Stupid, fargin, icehole bastige.*

This post should be uplifting, upbeat, about love and happiness, maybe even with a few strong words about materialism.

Or maybe it should be about friends and family. Aren’t they the ones who uplift us, make us feel good, and make holidays so special?

Eh, maybe. Sometimes, I guess. Of the 73 Christmas gatherings personally witnessed, seldom was it with the same family and the same friends. A sad thing about the modern world is how families disperse, spread out, move, and then need to make herculean efforts on trains, planes, and automobiles to get back together for holidays. Why do we do that? Would a Star Trek transporter beam for all make it easier? It would for those who really wanted to get back, but do we all really want to go home for the holidays?

It’s also a tough time to consider income equality and homelessness. Nothing like a hundred presents under the tree to make you wonder where the homeless beggar the police just chased off his corner is going to sleep.  And what presents do billionaires buy for their families? Their own planes, trains, and automobiles so they can get home easier? Even worse, if you drew Elon Musk’s name in a Secret Santa party, what would you get him? Would he even show? And what would he give if there were no dollar limit?

But the saddest part of the holidays is who really gets forgotten: Jesus, the birthday guy. Name anyone who really knows and lives the teachings of Jesus and reminds others of His ways**. Would he accept a present? Would He*** accept it and re-gift to someone who needs it?

In years past the Christmas Holidays meant so much to us because it was time off from work, time off from stress, and time to give and receive gifts. All in all, good reasons for families to get together, good reasons for celebration.

But there are billions of people in the world who know nothing of Christmas and Jesus. Is that a bad thing?

The biggest mistake we make at Christmas is not remembering, not reading more, not learning, and not accepting the life-style Jesus set for us. Why is that? We can do small things in small ways to honor that lifestyle, and we can do bigger and better things if we are blessed with way more than we need. Who needs a new Lexus with a bright, red ribbon out in the driveway? Or a keepsake blood diamond from an African mine? And better, yet: why do we celebrate Christmas with advertisements like these?

As a very young man exposed to J.D. Salinger in the middle of the 1960s materialism/consumerism boom, “The Jesus Prayer” and “The Way of the Pilgrim” were read with great care…and with great effect/affect. Those of you who know both, think any modern world leader is aware of either? Wait, are you?

As for my friend, hope you liked this subject better than death.

*Again: from Johnny Dangerously, and Michael Keaton, 1984.

**Apologies to the very few who do know, and do–at least– try.

***Note the alternating H or h for Jesus’ pronoun. Can the world even agree on that?

The Miracle of Medicine, the Mind, and Youth

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There was a time when mornings were full of life, full of energy, when running was first before breakfast, and life got better with each mile. It was a blissfully ignorant time of invulnerability and unlimited happiness, with no doctors’ threats or tests informing dietary and sleeping habits. Only God knows what could have been different to prevent The Calamities of 2023…if anything at all. Hopefully, if the medical science establishment has any sense, they will be searching for way to send patients back to the good, old, days.

Yeah. Right. In the meantime, age takes us by the hand and steers us into physical conditions with strange names and mortal consequences. Science is really good at learning about and naming these conditions but our success at eliminating them has been mixed. How long have we been donating to cancer—as well as other disease—fund raisers? There was a cancer program in the 1960’s involving chocolate bars. I supported it with an allowance big enough to buy one bar a week.

The end result of medical research at this point in my lifetime is we’ve made progress at longevity. Per Ai, my birth year of 1952 has an average life expectancy of 68.6 for males in the United States. A male born in 2025 can hope for nearly 80 years. Ai is quick to point out sex, country of origin, and income can make huge differences, both plus and minus. Ask Ai yourself for more details but—spoiler alert—America does not have the longest life expectancy. We don’t even make the top 5. Monaco is number 1? Maybe wealth is the most important factor?

But as we age, we’re finding it harder and harder to be happy about aging. Why isn’t the aging “experience” making us happier? Is it really making us wiser? We all know why aging makes us unhappy, read the first paragraph of this post. But is there anything we can do about it?

A couple of things could be done. First, look for and appreciate the humor in life. It’s there but gets lost in the mail, so to speak. The earliest humor is the simple fact the day we are born we start to die. Right then and there the clock starts and there is no stopping it. Cruel or funny? Make your choice carefully, it matters. I recently filled out a health questionnaire asking me: “Do you sometimes forget things?” I can’t remember if I even answered. Another plus for aging is streaming services for computers, laptops, phones, and televisions. You can travel world from your chair or hospital bed, watching period dramas, slapstick comedy, relevant medical shows, and take enough on-line courses to become your own Doctor…as long as your faculties are intact.

And there is it: intact faculties. Most of us wouldn’t mind living to 100 or more if we can still, read, write, walk, and wipe ourselves, right? So, are the medical miracles helping us live longer helping us know we are living longer? You’ll never know until you get there, wherever “there’ is.

One thing we should all change our mind on, is death, especially if the Near Dead Expericencers (NDE) are to be believed. Nearly all NDE people, upon their return from death, report a heaven much too nice for most of us. Many also report not wanting to come back to life, and wondering why they did.  Can we expect the same at our own permanent death? If so, why worry? And why stigmatize suicide and outlaw assisted suicide and euthanasia?

It’s Monday so the post took a somber turn, or did it? One thing that makes a difference in and about life is how you view it, how you perceive it, and how you process it. And what you should always consider is there is no other choice than what happens on the macro level: you will die.

Will you suffer cognitive decline in old age? Not if you die young. One NDE describes his experience by comparing his life to a laptop computer. There is a memory on the old laptop you can transfer to a new laptop, and then you can discard the old and recycle it. That may sound matrixy (sic) but if it helps… embrace it. And don’t forget to keep some empty thumb drives* around, just in case.

Next post we’ll talk about Aliens and how they affect modern life through movies, plays, television, and Oscar voting.

*Memory sticks, or whatever else they are called these days.

Not Again…

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Its hard to not think about death when you are an old person. Death’s proximity is the main problem, not fear. It’s like having a root canal on your calendar and you can’t reschedule. (Apologies to all Dentists. You do good and necessary work. You’d all be Gods if you could make the work painless. * Hm. Dentist playing cards?)

The problem lately, is in the structure of the human being. The history of psychological understanding is complex and often controversial with Ids, Egos, Super Egos, and the two-faced beings of Aristophanes’ Myth of origins. Brighter, larger minds will eventually sort it all out but on a personal level I recognize three parts of human existence, at least my human existence. There is an Inner Voice (IV), an Outer Voice (OV) and The Body (TB). These components are slightly in tune with conventional Freudian and Transactional Analysis concepts, but I’ll take credit for making it easier to understand. My IV is the quiet, mercurial voice, sometimes reasonable but often impulsive and self-destructive. “Eat that last doughnut.” The OV is the rational face presented to the world after much consultation, debate, argument and bargaining with the IV. “But someone else may want that doughnut.” TB is just a handsome structure supporting us all and does whatever it’s told, often with a slight, painful delay. (See the tennis story from last March where OV instructions to TB were overridden with disastrous results by IV.) It’s important to note IV and OV are flexible, devil’s advocate-types and often take positions opposite each other apparently just for the fun of it.

The problem, now, is death used to be an afterthought for OV and opportunity for IV to take OV down a peg when things were going too well ** for the entirety of US. When cancer was beaten and TB and OV celebrated, IV was the voice in the background saying “So what? You’re going to die, anyway.” And when recovery from surgery was OV and TB’s main focus, IV tried hard to remind all “you’ll never be as good as you were at age 30.”

But now, death has become OV’s subject of conversation. Again, it may be proximity, or it may be because of the nursing home visits these last few weeks. Notably, those visits deposited death into daily conversations and OV had no choice but to participate. When I returned home from visits, TB sat quietly as OV wondered how long it would be before we all, three, would be living in such facilities. It was IV, then, who suggested we think better thoughts like dying quietly in our sleep. It makes me feel sorry for TB. It’s doing the best it can but more time and telomeres *** have been lost to the past than are left for the future. It comes down to simple math and TB doesn’t do equations.

But OV and IV do, and its hard to escape the constant, internal bickering, especially when the environment is added to the mix. Bright, sunny, beautiful fall days allow IV to tell OV to “shut the f^&#” up when death enters the conversation. Then, on rainy, cloudy, cold days OV lords it over IV with a smirk. For the record, TB never says a word. It lets its nerves do the talking.

It’s a wonder any of us worry about death. Ai estimates over 100 BILLION people have died over the course of history. Ai even says 173,000 die each day. Me and my components will join them, as will you.

Alred E. Neuman *** used to say: “What, me worry?” Honestly, there’s nothing like truth from the mouth of a fictional character to help manage our endings.

*And cheaper.

** Lost time trying to remember good and well rules. Is this one correct?

*** Do I need to point out you should google things you may not know about, anymore?

Faith? Why?

ness23456 Tags: , , , , , , , , , Leave a comment

Faith is a strong word, one of those single syllable words which are hard to mispronounce and carry a lot of weight. Love. Hate. Peace. Death. Whoever invented these words tried to make their meaning clear and unambiguous, for all to see and understand.

Right. (Sarcasm.) Ai was asked for a definition of Faith. The sultry, English voice (my choice) offered two types of Faith: Religious and Secular. Paraphrased, Religious Faith is the firm belief in something for which there is no proof. My bet is most of us think of this definition when we hear the word “faith”. It is often debated as a complex issue but really, the bottom line is you believe or not. You have faith or not. True, unshakeable Religious Faith is one of the major wonders of the world. You’re lucky to have it.

We use a different faith all the time in the real world. On my drive to the fitness center this morning my 3,000 pound, gas-powered missile passed 12 other missiles, often within feet of each other, and at high speeds. It is a life or death situation we face every day where we do not even think about the “faith” we have in the other driver being competent, enough, to not kill us both. When I get in my car I have faith it will start. When I wake up I have faith my lungs will fill with air. I even have faith there will be air. These are secular faiths we employ—and believe in—every minute of the day. They might even be called “communal faiths” because we all believe in these daily miracles as we fill our daily, minute-by-minute days. Imagine if we lost faith…

Carpe Diem is a favorite phrase bandied about—ad infinitum–when talking about how to enjoy life. Seize the Day. Why don’t we, instead: “amplectere fidem?” google it.

If we could find a way to note and appreciate our daily, secular faith, how might it affect malaise and depression? Unhappiness? The holy grail of well-being? So many of us work so hard to be something, be someone, be somewhere, when we should have faith in who, what, and where we are. And why, too, though that one is trickier.

Secular faith even helps pessimists. Don’t they firmly believe without proof something bad is going to happen? This might be a Religious Faith for them, by the way.

There are miracles every minute of every day, some, maybe even sent by your actual God, whichever one in which you have Faith. Think about your own faith when you have the time, not just when you narrowly avoid getting hit by the dump truck that didn’t see you. Plus, contemplating faith may take your mind off other things.

The best part of having both Faith and faith (if you’re lucky enough) is when you can’t find one, the other will be there to help you get back from whatever misguided but utterly human misadventure you’ve foisted upon yourself.

You have faith in oncoming anonymous drivers so have faith in yourself, and in the world.

Atheists are the ultimate in faith groups, by the way. They have enough faith in themselves to reckon they don’t need any Divine Help.

PS I am entirely aware this short outpouring of words and platitudes in no way compares to a dusty, detailed, and annotated debate about Faith, faith, life, religion, and the meaning of life. So what?