Whether through science or through faith, there are competing views of what this life is--including what our own roles are in how we experience it and what we are to one another. It's a luxury to be able even to consider the question, let alone to post the thoughts publicly, indulging such an idle thought...
... until one day a message arrives from a friend standing in the shadow of Maslow's Pyramid. It's standing precariously upside-down. We know it's about to topple, but in which direction we cannot know. Facing mortality, the message reiterates the value of your friendship and asks for your prayers.
We'll know the outcome soon enough.
In the meantime: an offering of prayers, a reflection on friendship.
Tuesday, October 23, 2012
Saturday, October 13, 2012
Shifting position in bed, my own coughing wakes me--again. "It's too early," I think to myself; "I'm going to wake my wife. I should take some medicine and go downstairs to the couch." Sitting up, I put on my sweatshirt and pajama pants. I pull the extra blanket that fell partially between the footboard and the mattress, and I see the NyQuil on the counter. I put down the blanket and dose myself. I grab the blanket and pass the first bathroom, the second bathroom, and start down the stairs. "I should go to the bathroom before I go back to sleep." I ball up the blanket and put it in the chairlift parked at the bottom of the stairs, then use the third bathroom. Finishing there, I grab the blanket and head for the couch. Now here I am, blanket beside me, waiting for the medicine to kick in...
My body feels broken and my mind is clouding, but it seems there is always something that is correctly functioning.
Maybe it's just the NyQuil talking?
Monday, October 8, 2012
Sitting at the conference room table, my mind drifts away to consider two types of realities in which I find myself. Firstly, the table and the walls are solid; there's no simple way for my body to catch up to my imagination, wherever it's gone. Secondly, it could, but it's not... After all, with only minimal effort I really could find myself on the other side of that closed door. With a bit more? Tahiti.
But there I sit... until I'm jolted back: That fellow is lying and my colleagues are eating it up. Surely someone must see it, no?
"Hey! That fellow is lying!"
"I am offended by your accusation!"
My own contingent turns on me and rushes to assuage hurt feelings.
The flow of millions of dollars per year is determined in no small part by understanding that--in this particular corner of the universe--even feigned offense trumps the weight of so much misspent money...
So, exactly how does a situation like this become reality?
Perhaps a better question: What can you do to change it?
Would you like to learn?