Well, here it is! Three-quarters of a century. Seventy-five is both a profound, as well as, just a numbered birthday.

There are many other significant numbers in one’s lifetime, but this one, when and if you get here, is one of the biggies.

I will celebrate it with superb friends still here. My bride is gone, but I know she will be wishing and singing with all my other family members and friends on the other side. They know I will see them soon since eternity is their reference point.

There are many reasons why seventy-five is significant.

1. Not too many get there.
2. If you do, you’re surprised.
3. You realize nothing is as important as you thought it was.
4. Your goals are for tomorrow and not beyond that.
5. Appreciation of each courtesy is amplified by its grace.
6. History is indeed prologue.
7. Repetition is the failure of humanity.
8. Hope is eternal.
9. Love is the only answer to hate.
10. Each day brings an experienced expectation of new things.

My wish for this day.

Love one another with no conditions.


Sunday thoughts

I am writing this on Sunday. You will read this on a Monday morning or later.

Sunday, for me, is always a day of reflection. Yesterday I thought about my granddaughter’s birthday. It was Sunday, and I sent her a note along with gifts that her parents gave her during a family celebration. She reached a milestone number yesterday. Sixteen.

When I was sixteen Ike was president. The Edsel was Ford’s new offering to the motoring public. Steve Allan was hosting the Tonight Show. American Bandstand with Dick Clark started.

Today, at sixteen, it is a whole new world. Social media connects to the entire world in seconds. Communication is instant, via email, Facebook, Twitter and so much more. In 1957, if you wanted to call across the country or around the world it took lengthy routing from ATT and money.

Yesterday I lit a fire at my home and put in several logs to burn for the afternoon. Those logs were older that both my grand-daughter and me put together and then some. The light and heat they released in my fireplace came from the sun of over a hundred years ago. We need to think about those things.

My grand-daughter won’t realize the warmth and light connection for many years to come if she ever does, but I do. Everything is interconnected, whether it’s a log in a fireplace or the DNA of friends, families or even enemies. The miracle is not the oneness; it is the difference within the oneness.

Until humankind realizes the inter-connection of all things we will have contention and conflict.


Beware what you think

I sit here in my home office on a cold December night, and I think about the significance of this moment in thought as well as the monumental responsibility for it if in fact “energy follows thought” as some disciplines espouse.

Energy follows thought means ultimately all thought is creative or creating and continues once the thinker abandons it. If the intention is the yeast, then the dough energy component has the potential to manifest into a creation on the canvas of time.

This kind of thinking gets a little convoluted in its possible consequences, but you get the principle of the idea. OK, it’s a little weird too.

The idea is that once you think about something, what if that thought bounds around the universe bumping into and attracting like thought patterns that end up in a mishmash junk yard of collective possibilities? Hopefully, the thought trash heap is somewhere at the edge of the universe and away from any disorder the original thought could have created. It may be out of the way, but it’s still there.

I have no idea whether it could or could not happen, but I don’t want to take any chances with any errant or ill-conceived thoughts hanging out with other like-minded energy guys down at the corner of space, so what do I do?

I’m told there are two antidotes; all you have to do is say “cancel” and the thought energy dissipates and you can offer a prayer thought, the non-denominational variety, that basically says, “I release into the light any negativity created by my thought and ask that it be transformed into a useful energy for the good of the whole.”

These are just a few of the mystical mental wanderings that come on a cold night when a mesmerizing fire frees thoughts from the “what if” file in the back of my mind.

I’ll try to be more practical tomorrow. I’m off now to dream of Leprechauns and Unicorns.


Sensory Observations

I was in New York City the other day for a luncheon meeting with a friend of many years.

As I walked several blocks from the subway to a restaurant, I looked at all people differently. New York City is peopled with many races; White, Black, Asian, Indian, Hispanic and all cultures and races in-between.

New York has a large black population, but blacks are still a minority population in this city.

When I was in Nairobi, Kenya a couple of years ago, Caucasian was not even a minority race. Caucasian was an anomaly, and I felt the difference. It was not a negative feeling, but more of an observational and sensory one. Maybe it was just me, but I felt I stood out in the crowd so to speak. I was never fearful; it only felt different.

The proportional difference between blacks and whites in New York City is far more than that of whites to blacks in Kenya. In Kenya, it was possible for me to travel miles and hours and not see another white person.

In the one to one of health-care in Kenya we were all one. In the political discussions of what should and could be done is where the oneness diverges.

In New York, I watched all people more closely than I ever did before. I looked at black mothers and fathers on the subway with their kids, and I did so with a new awareness and appreciation.

I saw tenderness, concern, and caring. I knew it was always there, but I was not as aware of it as I was yesterday. I watched family interactions with admiration and with the distant memory of covering the civil rights movement in the sixties. Back then, as a young reporter, I covered services in Black churches and listened to preachers call for justice and righteousness in an affirmative chorus of “Amen’s.”

I have a wiser appreciation of human identity and dignity the older I get.

I think one has to experience being a minority before one can understand that minority and majority should mean nothing. The only things that are truly important in life anywhere are smiles, courtesy, dignity, tolerance, equal opportunity and the unconditional acknowledgment of the sameness of being.