The Last Day

I’m still sweeping up the remains of my loss; that being, my entire list of post for the coming weeks.  I’m still basking in a fog-like enjoyment of freedom from burden.  I’m not committed to any course, so the absence of obligation provides room...room to breathe.  When I awoke this morning I knew it was the last day of 2012.  Almost as automatically, I asked myself what would I do with the last day of the year? As if it had any more preciousness than any other day.  As of late I’ve had a number of experiences that contrast my living as if.

As if I am timeless; so haste, urgency, care, or clarity didn’t have impact on my direction; I could always turn around if it were unpleasant.

As if what mattered wasn’t important; now that is something to say! Because if I believed that then I wasn’t accepting authorship to my experience.  I was allowing the deception of the world happening to me to prevail; something I believe to my marrow is incorrect.

  What I am slowly acknowledging is this:  As do I feel so shall I venture.  When I am indifferent, then of course I drift.  When I’ve drawn conclusion, then I have purpose and am driven.  Nowhere is the idea of RIGHT or WRONG never mind GOOD or BAD part of the calculus.  For that much I am glad I’ve liberated my process.  But purpose…now that’s something I can sink my teeth into.  So today I’m dedicating my sense of purpose, and by default think my way to feeling quality

So the quest is to find purpose.

Believe as I may, for the journey to get me where I desire; matter.

Pretty good for a day’s work, don’t you think?

The Purging Fire

This wasn’t the topic for today. It wasn’t even in the paddock of my usual ten post waiting for their notice to be used.  Those were lost to me, I suspect, forever, along with several hundred essays and another one hundred and fifty poems.  How?  Well, I’ve spent the better part of today wondering that very thing.  How did I happen to move my BLOGGING folder, comprised with past, present, and future into my computer recycle bin?  Or even better still, why didn’t I look to see what was in that bin before I permanently deleted the files?  Habit I suppose. I know that when I saw that 39 megs were flushed I was curious to wonder how the bin got so full.  When I discovered the BLOG folder missing I did the math.

  OMG, as the popular text goes. In this case it represented the loss of over ten years of essays and short insights that I had been turning into daily comments.  Yes, in an instant it was gone.  Denial demanded I spent the better part of the morning using recovery programs to resurrect the words, but suffice to say I can save the document Title but I can’t read the body.  Whatever encryption magic that works to protect me from cyber-criminals also prevents me from reclaiming my work.

   I traversed a moment of emotional upheaval, but it wasn’t as long as those from my past.  Much like having a house burn down, the event changes forever a point of view wrapped around permanent.  I lost files before and I got over it.  In fact, the whole idea of lost is something that needs more practice.  Nothing I possess will stay.  Slowly, and with great heaps of difficulty I’m becoming more familiar with the theme.  And I’m happy to report that it’s not as painful as it use to be.  I didn’t lose the day to remorse or lament.  What good will come of it?

Just about everything.

I can take the loss without being a victim or finding some blame to heft out.  I am in a moment of calm acceptance at the moment, perhaps I’m just misdiagnosing shock.  But for whatever the reason I am experiencing this calm.

Let me say…letting go brings peace.  I’ll talk with you tomorrow…maybe…that would be nice.

The Let Down

The Big Day has passed. I can see on the faces of people I pass in the market, on the streets, a shared vacant-emotionally spent fog that clings.  It’s the holiday let down; the exhale from pent up excitement of pending joy.  Here is where reason for doing things comes into effect. Subtle as it can be, we get sucked into living for the future, and when that has a calendar date on it, watch out.  The amusing thing about all of that is how much effort I’ve put into dissolving the habitual tendency I’ve acquired over the years, yet still get lured into its clutches.  So it’s nothing where I can stand on the sideline and click my tongue in judging others, which by the way what’s that all about? Tongue clicking I mean?

  I was reading about Christmas early-bird gift raiders complaining about their gifts.  Most often it was this sense of recognizing parents were clueless to what their kids really-truly wanted.  I felt a pang of memory on that one.  It was so common, that eventually I stopped asking for what I really wanted; I’d just knew they’d either try to get something as a substitute or outright get it wrong; then I’d be disappointed.  To this day I’m hard pressed to ask for something I dearly want because of those experiences.  I eventually put it all together.  Realizing as I do where expectations really do indeed usher in disappointment.  Now I’m not one to advocate the ending of hope, or to dispel wishing entirely.  What I have grown comfortable with is sorting out my desire from the churning sea of lack.  Once I accomplish the task of putting desire into perspective, then I can accept not having a specific condition in order to be happy.  Of course when what I desire is added to my current situation, then I’m all the more merry.  And isn’t that an archaic word that fits the bill? Whenever talking about the gift of Christmas?

  Better still, isn’t that the very coal to keep hearts warm as we grow into the coming year?

It's My Pleasure

 Long ago, yet near enough to be relevant, I found a desire to use words that serve my purpose more vividly. There’s nothing like hunger for robust to hone skills of awareness; and so it was. 

   I made it a point to pluck out words from my everydayness that subtly accused or judged.  Whenever I noticed them I’d make a substitution from then on; it is a process that is never-ending.

     A case in point on the topic, is the social practice of saying “You’re Welcome” after receiving a “Thank You” when a favor was performed. Foremost I noticed how empty the expression seemed to be due to it being so automatic; spoken as a neutral practiced script by those who consider themselves polite.  Secondly, I felt that the phrase really didn’t convey the sense of cooperation I believe it must have held in ages past.  These days I choose to respond with, “It’s my pleasure,” as a more befitting response to an uttered appreciation. It also resonates far more appropriate for the meaning of doing favor for an equal.

All of this process actually began after reading a book by the Dahlia Lama.  I admired how he was able to make his point without finding someone or something to blame.  I noticed the power of his word choices.  They embraced as well as inspired courage to own the choices one makes.  It was the beginning of my own love affair with being clear as well as unbiased in my speech; utmost was my desire to keep from assigning fault for my distress or disappointment; to do so would be giving my personal power away.  Perhaps that is what seems to be missing from present conversations? How rare is it now to be part of a dialog where there is a sense of acceptance along with, more importantly, respect by equals? 

  Ours is a world seeking efficiencies; in that quest comes a somewhat reckless dispensing of redundancies.  Fear of losing position encourages random trimming of qualities whose interdependencies are scarcely understood.  As any historian, (or mom), will tell you; act in haste and regret in leisure.  So it is true with shaving away our sense of decency dealing with one another. When we do, we lose connection along with any sense of goodwill towards one another. 

Oddly I am reminded of one of the many useful lessons my mom taught me.  In this case, ‘If you can’t say something nice, don’t say anything at all.’ Is that a pearl of wisdom or what?

Melody

Our destiny, our incessant urgings, far below the din of want or need is call for harmony.  We can no more deny its pressing invite then pass an act of beauty and not be touch.

    The puppies, and kitten and toddlers that ignite our grins.  The laughter of children at play in parks, or their running with outstretched arms and hoots of glee into waiting grandparents arms. "Grandma!" the rejoicing affection!

Hear them chime in your heart as you read? 

    How often the uttered...'aw' when strangers see a baby in a carriage; or when children demonstrate kindness and generosity without prodding.  We celebrate the passing of the touch of caring...of values that nurture and encourage life's subtle presence. Love makes no demand.

    Oh when our friends share their fear, or cry, don't our tears arrive to mingle? Inspired to stop thinking and feel from the well of our compassion, that moment of recognition what is real, "that's me"

Whoa be the soul who has become so hardened to the truth that distraction is reality.  For they say there is a hell, and I'm convinced it’s self wrought, and anchored with keyless gates.

Only recently have I come to see the ramparts were not meant to keep interlopers out...but to keep the owner in.  What a shame

I like the song of life.  I'm rather fond of its compelling melody…as I celebrate another year on this globe.

So Much Sky to See

            To not settle for a life that is devoid of emotion is a tribute to our self-love.  I've come to realize something about the universe, and I think it important to share with you at this crossroad.  Often, we make proclamations that we want to change.  We desire to invest our efforts in improving the person we are.  Whether it's to give up a destructive habit, or to invest in our personal growth; (that being obtaining more education, expanding our spirituality, or just general all around 'self' house cleaning)

            Whatever the reason for this moment; sought or thrust upon us, such as life's events like death or relationship crises, all in all we come to the moment of proclamation that we desire change, and we address it as a plan to do better.  No sooner do we make this 'resolution' than it seems the universe test us.  For some, it is a reason to give up...that the world is just against them...but I'd submit, it’s the universe saying..." Really?"

            If earnest for change, what better way than to face those situations having wrought our complaint?  If its weight; the feast is offered upon our commitment to not over indulge.  If it's smoking; a poker party with your smoking friend is delivered.  The situations go on endlessly, but the amusing thing for me is to recognize that whatever the challenge, the universe is right there presenting opportunity to test our resolve.  To allow us to 'wear' our desire to be as we wish;  always as a test to our commitment to that change.  Certainly wisdom delivered in a gaily-colored box would be a delight.  As would be compassion,

    " Oh yes, another helping of that is always welcomed"

 but really, isn't that rather Pollyannaish to entertain that our growth is something that is effortless?  When did that fantasy become an embraced fact of life?  We all know that gains come from sacrifice of comfort; where work is necessary investment for bearing fruits of desires.  We do not become accomplished musicians over night, nor command the fluency of languages, or competencies in anything that we've mastered in our lives in a single deft stroke.  It took time and dedicated and determined effort.  Wisdom's kiss is strife embraced.  Compassion's cloak is woven from tears of suffering.  Why would we think, or feel, that our wishes were cheap?  Resist the tendency to believe that our obstacles are there to break our resolve.  They are opportunities for us to participate and so feel connected.

              Be determined and continue to seek fulfillment of heart, and not measure progress by obtaining results.  The investment of the heart is the journey, not the destination.  It is not the seeing the course, but the walking of the road of self-love.  And those are daily steps of self-appreciation.  I'll share with you this truth.  Love is an expression of self.  Not something that is attained from others.  Love is given, not taken. We've been deluded into accepting that our spirits and hearts are subject to the same promise of Burger King.... Having it your way.  Our challenge is to seek our joy, and recognize that they are independent of the actions of others.  Where desire to control the world, is our proclamation that we do not love.  Instead, that we embrace fear and will work to its end, that of consumption of our attention and efforts.  Love is release from our fear; to enjoy our hearts delights in being.  When we love, we give out of our gratitude.  We invest our compassion in lifting those that we have affections for, never concerned with what we get in return.  Because the truth of it is, when we love sincerely we receive the gift from within.  When we feel connected we extinguish the life dampening delusion of being alone.

            I embrace my fellow companions in this divine awakening.  Saluting their personal courage to explore a better way and take this walk.  When we are out of shape, sudden activity will make our muscles sore; but that's transitory.  If we refuse to allow the discomfort to dissuade our effort, soon we will be robust in our health and then can engage in joy of activities of all sorts.  So it is with the heart; if it languishes unused, then when it does suddenly fly up in expression of its nature, it too will experience the pain and hurts of being out of shape. 

Yet even as our spirits take flight; making for sore wings, we must have faith and keep flying

            There's still just so much sky to see.

The Christmas Gift

We have passed the winter solstice, reason to celebrate that our days will grow stronger as we travel through winter towards the spring; I lose count of that subtle truth in my every day activities.  Many cultures celebrate this event as coming toward more daylight, and I readily agree with that idea; it’s worth celebrating. Over the years we’ve gathered reasons to celebrate this time of year, and in that effort to soften and gift those in our lives that make living pleasant; yes, any dedicated time for appreciation is welcomed by me.  How we do that is to the imagination.  To come home, to send a special wanted item, seems the possibilities are endless, but always with the spirit of communion.   I am like most, rushing to accomplish a list of necessary self appointed tasks to make this celebration special; I’ve found, all too often, I inadvertently wear myself out in that effort.  So then I’m not present to be gifted as it were.  What a turn of phrases is it not?

   I come from a tradition of hectic chaos trying to accomplish all those tasks for the holiday. The list of must was so overwhelming that too often it beat the fun out of the holidays. By the time I became an adult I was burned out on Christmas.  As a child I had a vague awareness of added stress by the grown-ups, but with guile I could avoid igniting any full blown scolding if I just stayed out of the way.  When I had my own family I realized full force the difficult task of juggling a demanding job while also trying to ‘make’ Christmas happen. 

   One Christmas in particular stands out in my mind.  It was, unfortunately, the first Christmas after my divorce.  My son’s mother picked him up to go with her to celebrate with her family at their farm.  I was invited, but it felt awkward for me to come, so I declined the many offers to come along. Frankly, I didn’t want to.  Once they left, I had the day to myself. I called friends, while also accepting a last minute dinner invitation.  I called my parents and my siblings to wish them a joyful holiday.  I watched It’s a wonderful life while sitting on the couch strumming my guitar.  I did a host of things on the spur of the moment.  It was so foreign for me to be experiencing a quiet Christmas Day; No arguments over details, or expectations.  I didn’t have to rush off somewhere, dress up for some party, none of that. It was truly a Peaceful day.  I knew from that experience where the peace of Christmas came from; attitude.  Since then I make it a point not to make demands, and most of all I abandon any expectations from others.  In doing so, every Christmas day is a welcomed event for me to give of myself what I am able and willing to give.

Echoes

What a very appreciative soul I have this day.

The messenger bows

I've noticed how often we can affect the buoyancy of others...a smile, a kind word, and appreciation.

Of course conversely speaking the same can be observed of the effect of an accusing tone and wilting by an admonishing act and measures of isolation

I feel, as we ourselves collect those unfair and unjust actions put upon our innocence’s, so that we are given opportunity to know the experience; feel its negative effect.

Eventually we may learn to release the notion that it was 'our fault' and see the underlying truth.

That would be:  what practice not to put upon others

For every harm inflicted upon another, is a self-validation of an illusion where we are 'bad' 'evil' or undeserving of kind considerations.

I'm ever glad when we union in joy

And share laughter readily

And yes, suggest bliss that could be had

Should we get

Within reach.

Suffice to say when we connect...over these methods and devices

The world benefits by the refreshed and invigorated

Hearts on fire

Tantalize

This time of year is the real test of resolve; particularly when considering healthy living. It is a tempting challenge to not indulge in eating all of the assorted sweets and goodies that pack on the pounds.  I couldn’t tell you when I agreed to live a healthier life, but my guess is soon after visiting my doctor for my annual check-up last year.  Suddenly everything went haywire; my blood pressure, cholesterol, vitamin deficiencies and even dry skin (for crying out loud).  Perhaps I just happened upon a doctor that likes to get a good view of a new patient? Whatever the turn of events were, I committed to change my wicked-vice-filled ways and to cultivate a healthier existence.  It wasn’t a case of my not knowing any better, I did; it was just I didn’t care better.  But all of that changed, and now we live almost meat and dairy free; which is something to say for this hunter-of-flesh, cheese adoring fellow. With that, I thought of all of the wayward enticements that surface at this festive season of the year; and in which indulging into them got me thinking about the word tantalize; how some foods can get my saliva glands working over time.  My son and I were just reminiscing on the year we survived exclusively on chocolate chip cookies, (for about two weeks; then we both came down with horrible colds).

   It just so happens that during this time we were both free from womanly influences concerning long term affects of a sugar-rich-blitz-mostly diet. That may be just a coincidence by the way. So then, onward to the origins of the word Tantalizing ~

  When the Greek gods of Olympus announced that they would visit Tantalus, one of their favorite mortals, to have a meal with him, Tantalus decided that the best thing to offer the gods would be the thing most dear to him: his son.  He killed his son Pelops and cooked him in a stew.  But the gods knew by the smell of the food alone that it was human flesh and refused it, cursing Tantalus.  For his horrible crime they punished him by placing him in one area of a river under a tree in Tartarus, the underworld.  When he bent down to drink, the water disappeared. When he reached up for fruit from the trees, the branch would be moved away by a wind.  Hence the word tantalize ~ to tempt in a madding way.

   This time of year is a tantalizing experience of sugary-flavored sticky sweet yumminess.  As well as in the wake of enjoyment is the sincere intention and promise to dedicate the first part of the following year to getting rid of its effects.  

Now isn’t that a sweet tale?  The promise I mean.

The Apocalypse Hangover

People tend to seek consistency in their beliefs and perceptions. So what happens when one belief conflicts with another valued belief? The term cognitive dissonance is used to describe the feeling of discomfort that results from holding two conflicting beliefs. When there is a discrepancy between beliefs and behaviors, something must change in order to eliminate or reduce the dissonance. 

   So when an anticipated event, an expectation, fails to materialize any of us, all of us even, are challenged to cope with the distance that prevails between wanted and actual; that can be tricky.
   Yesterday there was a lot of attention focused on the possibility of the end of the world. Fortunately for this blog, it didn’t happen and I can continue to speculate on the significance and colorful array of being in our shared living years. There has been some research into the history of similar predictions; in 634 BCE many ancient Romans believed the world would end. In Matthew 16:28 Jesus told a crowd of people, “Verily I say to you, there be some standing here, which shall not taste of death, till they see the Son of man coming in his kingdom”. So in 60 CE this and similar statements led many early Christians, including St. Paul, to believe that Judgment Day would happen in their lifetime. Others as well, Pope Innocent III in 1284 CE; Johannes Stoeffler in 1524 CE; even Christopher Columbus in his Book of Prophecies, had said the world should have ended in 1658 CE. Any list would be remiss without Pat Robertson saying in the fall of 1982 that the world would end, he darn well guaranteed it. This list is impressive; the common denominator being ~ we’re still here. And much like those who believed and then were left to pick up the pieces of their lives after missing the train-to-glory, we can take comfort in knowing that we’re a resilient lot and prone towards rethinking our perception of what is real.

   I talk about what is real a lot because I am one who has grown sick and tired of being sick and tired. The best medicine and therapy I have found that money can’t buy is genuine acceptance with heaping doses of unbiased processing. 

 With that my happy prognosis’s is looking favorable; until the end of my world.

End of Our Time

For those who embrace the concept of the end of the world occurring on the 21^st of December, 2012…that would be…well…today.   The 2012 phenomenon comprises a range of eschatological beliefs, (meaning the study of the end of the world) according to which cataclysmic or transformative events will occur on 21 December 2012. This date is regarded as the end-date of a 5125-year-long cycle in the Mesoamerican Long Count Calendar (aka the Maya Calendar.) Various astronomical alignments and numerological formulae have been proposed as pertaining to this date, though none have been accepted by mainstream scholarship.

   A New Age interpretation of this transition has been that the date marks the start of time in which Earth and its inhabitants may undergo a positive physical or spiritual transformation, and 21 December 2012 may mark the beginning of a new era. Others suggest that the date marks the end of the world or a similar catastrophe. Scenarios suggested for the end of the world include the arrival of the next solar maxium (great solar activity that we have been experiencing actually since 2009) an interaction between Earth and the black hole at the center of the galaxy, (some named it Hank…just kidding, everyone knows it’s called Eddy) or Earth's collision with a planet called Nibiru. 

(An idea whose predication of a 2003 has passed, but the namesake lingers on.  Some claim that might just be the DA14 asteroid with an estimated diameter of about 45 meters that was discovered on February 23, 2012. It is predicted to come extremely close to earth, closer than satellites in geosynchronous orbit.  Some still,conjecture an impact on February 16, 2013, while some suggest perhaps 2026 a greater chance.)

     Scholars from various disciplines have dismissed the idea of such cataclysmic events occurring in 2012. Professional Mayanist scholars state that predictions of impending doom are not found in any of the extant classic Maya accounts, and that the idea that the Long Count calendar "ends" in 2012 misrepresents Maya history and culture, (but we really, really like Hollywood drama endings don’t we?)  While astronomers have rejected the various proposed doomsday scenarios as pseudoscience (looks like science without the dedication to facts) stating that they conflict with simple astronomical observations.

  "My grandfather told me that there will be a change after the New Year," says Jeremias Kulaak Pall, who has just grown out of his teens and is a bona-fide Mayan descendent.
"He says that there will be more peace and prosperity going forward, so I think we should look forward to it."
This cheerful perspective actually lines up neatly with what archeologists and anthropologists say about the significance of this New Year. On or around the solstice, the b'ak'tun, a Maya measurement of time roughly equal to 394 years, will end. The end of this period is traditionally interpreted as a time of significant change.
   For years now I’ve toyed with the idea that we do not comprehend what the end of the world could actually mean.  Perhaps not the end of the planet or life on it, but OUR WORLD, as it is organized in its current fashion change.  What if the end does not mean cataclysm but an enlightenment?  Wouldn’t that be just

Swell.

Goofy Gratitude

I like the goofy gratitude that cascades during the Christmas holidays. It’s close to having a feature roll in IT's A WONDERFUL LIFE, (yes and I watch it every year at this time.)

  A practice of gratitude is a daring to express how you feel. I think it serves both the sender and the receiver. When I consider the influence I command daily...I am in awe. Not for the responsibility, but in something else I see in the quality freely given; I am grateful for easy humor, and of course....it suggesting a different world than fretting.

   " One sees clearly only with the heart. What is essential is invisible to the eye." (Antoine de Saint Exupery).  As also expressed, the importance of relationships,

   “ You become responsible, forever, for what you have tamed” and

   “It is the time you have devoted to your rose that makes your rose so important.” I think I’ll seek to include more of those types into my life; something that would pay daily dividends without a lot of fuss.

Pet Owners, Pet Lovers

My job, in the family, is play.  With the cats, not so much; but the dog, well that’s a different story.

Oscar has a clear idea of who does what, and that's my assigned job hands-down, as I’m reminded of it daily.

But on occasion, he'll play with mommy, and that's fine by me, I suspect it’s just him trying to be fair with his time; Or, it could just as well be his way of reminding her that he is HER dog as well, (usually after her going up stairs nightly and spending time with the kitties). Breeds compete, for attention, for sure.

    As they were wrestling over a toy we named Patches, I listened with amusement at his persistent vocalizing during their tug-of-war and chasing the tossed rag-a-muffin. That’s when it dawned on me how much noise he brings into our home. And the ironic thing is that his noise invokes laughter and smiles from both of us. Whenever I consider what our life would have been like if we didn't adopt him, I get shivers. I didn't like the view of a life without him making noise in our home.

   Oscar is a small Bichon Frise, all of twenty pounds, but his effect is huge. So much of our day is filled with him; from the daily morning vigil of watching  kids walk to the bus stop from his perch on the couch, and then him running to the front window barking alarm as they passed, to his grumbling when we tell him to calm down. Then the adventures of his daily walks around the neighborhood; they are never the same

  I'm certain he adores his pack, just as we enjoy and cherish how his presence fills our life. I could go into depth on challenges to our sense of comfort as well~ but not today; no one thrills at late night potty calls in bad weather; Nobody.  Yet, when I weigh conveniences of comfort without him against the warmth and happiness of being with him; even if it’s mostly him demanding attention; I'll take him over convenience every time.

  No work or distraction demands my attention like play with Oscar. And because of that, he provides the colors to this wonderful painting of my life that I treasure. Maybe it’s because he is more than a thing...property of mine...perhaps it’s because I continue to marvel at how unpredictable he can be; how affectionately inclusive his nature with every moment he sees us both. He likes us and it shows.

I am not crazy about his chew bones, they smell horrible, but he delights in them, and constantly brings them to me for sharing.

Now really....will a job ever do that?

I think not.

I believe the real distinction between pet owners and pet lovers is the approach to the pet.  Lovers care about them, and in that, respect them as living beings with choices just like us.   Pets can choose to rely only on our delivery of needs for them, (food, cleaning out the litter box or take on walks).  Or they can gift us with the wonder of their personalities.  In this house we are a circus of characters…as I have an every-day free pass.  

All I have to come with is sincere and inclusive attention.  After all, it’s OUR home.

Looking For Work

I went shopping for necessary ingredients to make Zucchini Bread; one of my favorite wife-made-concoctions. Added to those, were a host of other items we were growing in short supply; so best fetch them while I was at it. While steering into the checkout line I made eye contact with a woman, who said,

"I think I know you?"

In that vague sort of way that happens when memory doesn't serve up recall on demand. Whenever I have those episodes it becomes a game of blurting out places we've been, jobs that we've held. Turns out in this case we both served in the Reserve Troop Augmentation unit to Headquarters, Third Army. As we played catch-up from the last time we were with the command, it turned out she had become a firefighter.

   We'd shift from what we’re doing at this moment to talking about common events and people we knew in the command. The topic drifted back to her being a firefighter in a neighboring county; she was discouraged and was considering leaving. I asked why was that? She said it was the lack of leadership, that and outright on-the-job bullying.  It appears with all the local public governments cutting cost the atmosphere was turning to that of 'take-it-or-leave-it' attitude by an ever shrinking and demanding management cadre.

   "There are plenty of people looking for this kind of work and you'll be easily replaced".

  We laughed at the irony of it all. In the service, no matter how bad we thought we had it, we saw that they took care of us; at least to the degree of trying to keep us relatively safe and secure. Then we talked about looking for work. She too had her masters degree, and was coming to the similar conclusion I was toying with; that of perhaps being overeducated.

She had applied for seasonal work and was turned down at pretty much the same places I had applied for as well. We just couldn't connect the dots on what disqualified us from menial work? What qualifies you to stock boxes or greet people in retail?

  Near as we could figure it was that we were that dreaded term of being overqualified. I'm not of course convinced it was just us mastering degrees. I sense it has to do with our age as well. She was 42 and I'm 58. To be frank, we're too old to be intimidated by outrageous demands by young managers who have limited leadership skills as well as being accustomed to bullying neophyte employees into doing their bidding. I saw similar when I was with the Infantry. Years back, the draft would pull in these raw recruits who could barely read. So they had been conditioned to obey their superiors and do what they were told without a lot of questioning. This wasn't the case in the mid-80's. These kids volunteered for combat arms for the college funds. Many of these kids came into the Infantry, Armor, and Field Artillery because of the tuition kicker for volunteering for much-needed-but-avoided military occupations, such as all of the Combat Arms branches. Leading these bright-young-men was a challenge to the tried and true method of intimidation through harm if orders were not obeyed. These kids could reason. Often, they could even find a better course of action than that of their superiors.

   Now to appreciate the whole picture, the senior sergeants were the conditioned type. They came from that background and persevered the grueling years to become the senior middle-grade leaders of the Army. Most didn't have any college, they were seasoned in and by the methods of intimidation; where questioning was paramount to mutiny. It was a conflict of worlds, and I made note of it when I was a lieutenant. It was frustrating on occasion to take time to explain our logic to those who would have to follow our orders; but in all honesty, it's their lives in the balance to poor planning, maybe they did deserve to give input?

   I suspect the same sort of reluctance to hire seasoned and educated applicants. Management doesn't need a lot of thinking going on in the rank and file. When the pool of applicants included naive teenage workers eager to win approval, even along with those who would only act when told, the prospect of hiring them was superior to a thinking worker who'd question the rational of a course of action a manager-in-training would make.

It was just too much work to convince the seasoned worker what made sense; their questioning ways would cultivate a culture of questioning the management; and that should be avoided.

Having discussed those possibilities we nodded in agreement that it was probably was the case; and too bad, but what could you do? I said, 'keep looking until you find a place that isn't afraid of its workers'

We just might be looking a very long time indeed.