Category: Blog

Looking For Treasure

When I was young I was a treasure hunter. I would look for treasure, inside the pages of books. I would scan the pages for nuggets, jewels and pearls. Weightless treasure, treasure no one could take away. If I found a nugget, that made my day. On those days, I knew I was growing.

Some books were like treasure chests, there was gold on every page. Those were the best books in the world. Other times I would need to turn many pages and scan many chapters, to find something that was lasting.

Ideas that can withstand the test of time, ideas that are sustainable. Those are the nuggets. Ideas that would apply to any people at any time. When I found an idea that was lasting, I was in heaven.  An lasting idea is like a torch of light that will burn forever and illuminate generations.

I grew up absorbing knowledge from my extended family, grandparents, parents, uncles, aunts, friends. So I knew that every person has something of value to offer, every last one.

I realized that if I can read books written by my elders I could learn from their life experience, and prepare myself. I could gain a life’s experience without having to endure it or use up any of my time. It was crazy, I could learn from someone that’s long passed. It was an awesome discovery.

Every person has flaws. When you read a book, take the good and throw away the bad. Its just like eating a juicy apple that has a bad spot, you eat around it and throw away the rest.

In my teens, I discovered Khalil Gibran, a fountain of wealth. I read many books by different people and each one brought more light to my world. I knew then, that I owed it to myself to search more, everywhere. And I keep looking for treasure.

“Football” is not a sport, it’s violence.

Football is not a sport, it’s violence.

In true sports, if someone hits you, it’s either a foul, a penalty, an ejection, or all of them combined.

In a true sport, if someone hits you in the head, that aggressor could get banned  for life. In a true sport, violence is not allowed or tolerated.

I challenge the NFL to make their players wear “smart helmets” that can measure impact and tell us exactly what is going on. We can show the details on the big screen live as the players get hit, that way everyone can see, the real score.

The Right To Choose Is Like The Right To Bear Arms

The right to choose is like the right to bear arms. These rights are about individual freedom. They help people manage their survival. These rights don’t make the individual a killer, so lets not pretend that they do.

The right to choose has nothing to do with killing a baby in the same way that  the right to bear arms does not mean that you want to kill a man. If someone said you could not have a gun because one day you will kill someone, that would be a false argument? It’s just as dishonest, to use abortions, as a pretext to take away a woman’s right to decide what to do with her own body during a pregnancy.  The right to choose is a most sacred right and belongs solely to the pregnant woman. It is outside of our jurisdiction.

Injecting “ABORTION” into the debate is dishonest and is an invasion of a woman’s natural rights. It is worst than trespassing. It is an offensive, gross act.

The right to choose rightly affords the woman the the freedom to decide the outcome of her pregnancy. What she chooses to do, is between her and her maker.

Religious Lottery

Religion is like a lottery. Its like a quick pick, its not the kind of lottery where you pick you own numbers. It’s prearranged, with the same restrictions of a prearranged marriage. You don’t have a choice in the matter, that is what I said. “You will marry that man, and, you will honor him. It’s for your own good.” These are the rules, don’t let us down.

It reminds me of when the Maya were trampled by invading Europeans. They brought missionaries who forced Christianity on the Maya. They killed those that resisted.  They questioned their beliefs,  destroyed and defaced their temples, stole their artifacts and burned their codices.   They called the Maya savages, who performed human sacrifice to please their Gods. So, they replaced the Mayan belief system with the one they brought with them. Christianity, the religion where a good man, named Jesus, an only son, is sacrificed on a cross, by his loving father for the benefit of mankind. That’s right, human sacrifice, all over again. “My human sacrifice is better than your human sacrifice.”

So check this, If I was born on this side of the world, I would believe one thing. If I was born over there, I would believe another thing. In both of these cases, I would be claiming to be on the right side.

Of those that are sincerely religious, half of them will kill you if you don’t believe like they do, the other half, will leave you alone, because “they know” that you will burn in hell, forever. Same difference. Have a nice day.

How can this be? Why does the truth have so many versions?

The reason religion is powerful, apart from the narrative, is that it is taught to us, by the people we love and trust the most, our parents. It is a powerful bond.

As a child, aware of the world and its people, I recognized that religion was like a geographical lottery, based on your place of birth.  It made no sense, and I started to question, what it was, that I had been taught. I was more tempted to question the beliefs of others, but first it made sense to take a look at myself.

I knew one thing, all religions cannot be right. But, they can all be wrong. I could see others being manipulated by their religion. I needed to make sure it was being done to me.

The bottom line is, the way I treat people is more important,  than what I believe. So, when I noticed that my religion was making judgments about people I did not know and had never met, I knew something was wrong.

Amazing Dream

Looking thru a box of my stuff, I found this amazing dream I had written down on a sketchpad that I kept along my bedside. If you  dream regularly, I suggest you put a pad and a pencil on your bedside to write your dreams as soon as you awake.  Many times I would wake up in the middle of the night and write down my dreams. This is one on them. I had forgotten about this dream and I am so glad I wrote it down. As I read it all the images came back to me. The following is as I wrote it, except for a few punctuation changes.

8-6-12  /  1:00    (at one o’clock I wrote an outline of my dream so as not to forget)

Alone

Desert Sand

Rock

Snake

Rabbit (Hare) Bushtail Covered in Dust

Child

Woman

Man

Murder

And then 8-6-12 / 1:23 (at one twenty three I wrote the following)

I was alone. There was nothing but sand, and then I noticed this beautiful rock. I was fixated, it had a sheen. From beneath the rock came a gliding snake wearing a cardigan, … nah-for real,

and then, I saw this dusty hare, his pink eyes inquired, did I care? Before you knew it, I heard a child cry. A barefooted toddler of olive skin, he mumbled something and gave me a big grin.

I knew I had to rescue this child. There was a woman laying across a dead tree. I shook my head, this could not be. My mind it raced, it was full of sin. I thanked the Lord, I just might win. My face it glowed, a foolish grin.

I licked my lips and pulled back my shoulder and that was when I saw, the man. Immediately, I had a plan. I set him up to come over and then I will hit him with a boulder.

I hit him hard across the head. I hit him until he was dead.

And then, like that, “snap”, it was all gone and there I stood (again) alone in the roasting sand, wishing that it wasn’t true, hoping I would run into you.

I must accept that this is true.