THE UNENDING PURSUIT OF HAPPINESS

  I think it’s unfortunate that in the good ol U.S of A. we have a holiday designated to remind us once a year to be grateful for all we have and are provided with. I think of the indigenous Native American cultures and their practice of thanking plants, animals, water, wind, etc. for nurturing and sustaining their lives and those of their families; every day of the year was Thanksgiving.  Their simple acknowledgement of the interconnections between themselves and Earth’s abundant resources providing for them resulted in the ritual expression of gratitude and prayer.

I think the practice of gratitude has far reaching effects on the lives of those who entertain it. I personally was raised with the “glass half empty” perspective and have spent a large part of my adult life letting go of the scarcity point of view and trading it for a “half full” point of view. The one results in a genuine and sustainable happiness, the other in discontent and restlessness. It initially surprised me to learn that gratitude precedes joy and not the other way around.
                                                

The pursuit of happiness promised us in the Constitution seems to have become a self fulfilling prophecy. Our culture is indeed addicted to a sense of scarcity and results in an  addiction to consuming more and more. The adage “looking for love in all the wrong places” can be substituted with our futile search for “happiness” in all the wrong places.   We are in fact, addicted and driven by marketing and societal brainwashing to continuously pursue happiness and briefly if ever, obtain it. Usually our happiness is superficial because it comes from a sort of temporary glow over our brand new, upgraded cell phone, laptop, car, shoes, etc. you fill in the blank. These purchases and accumulations don’t really get to the heart of our hearts resulting in the deeper joy and satisfaction we long for.

I have trouble with Christmas itself. The Scrooge is the icon for stingy self- centeredness. The Grinch another American “humbug” character. I wouldn’t be surprised if the origin of the Grinch was dreamt up by some marketing executive in a moment of inspiration. Let’s guilt the public into buying gifts for others in the name of generosity of spirit, in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ. If you really contemplate it, do you think Christ would be promoting a once a year, buying and giving spree rather than a continuous generosity born of genuine affection rooted in a daily spirit of love and appreciation?

Are we so consumed by the modern frenzy and speed of life on an average day? Alvin  Toffler wrote “Future Shock” way back in the early sixties. Have we stopped to notice the effects on our own health and well being of others from our over stimulated, compulsive “doing” and manically over-achieving society?  The symptoms of depression and anxiety are seen in our ever growing dependence on pharmaceuticals to mask and manage these symptoms. 

How would life here be different for us all if we began to be satisfied with owning the same car for 8 or ten years? Buying a house just large enough for the size and needs of our families instead of some extravagant castle?  Working only 40 hours a week and leaving ourselves time and energy to spend with our families in activities that nurture our bodies and souls?

Is it time to wake up neighbors? Wake up perhaps and see that the solution to the dilemmas we face economically, environmentally, physically, psychologically and spiritually are driven by our unbalanced manic racing towards “more, better, faster”.  When is enough enough? How is your peace and serenity doing?

Another obvious and fatal result of our frenzied lifestyle in our alleged ”developed nations” is our life threatening addictions like drinking, smoking, lusting, gambling, money, power and over eating to name just a few. On the other end of our dis-ease we are greeted by debilitating and/or fatal afflictions such as heart attacks, cancer and the myriad forms of illness that all to some degree or another suffer from. 

We are the only animals on this planet that do harm to ourselves, that knowingly practice unhealthy behaviors. How bad do things have to get for us all before we are willing to collectively stop, and take a united and realistic assessment of how our behaviors, beliefs and habitual ways of thinking are driving us toward extinction?  Call me an alarmist or a curmudgeon like Scrooge and keep your head buried in the sand  but if we don’t awaken to our unmindful self defeating actions now, we will continue to pay the price until perhaps we are no longer around to pay at all.

The pursuit of happiness promised us in the Constitution seems to have become a self fulfilling prophecy. Our culture is indeed addicted to a sense of scarcity and results in an  addiction to consuming more and more. The adage “looking for love in all the wrong places” can be substituted with our futile search for “happiness” in all the wrong places.   We are in fact, addicted and driven by marketing and societal brainwashing to continuously pursue happiness and briefly if ever, obtain it. Usually our happiness is superficial because it comes from a sort of temporary glow over our brand new, upgraded cell phone, laptop, car, shoes, etc. you fill in the blank. These purchases and accumulations don’t really get to the heart of our hearts resulting in the deeper joy and satisfaction we long for.

I have trouble with Christmas itself. The Scrooge is the icon for stingy self- centeredness. The Grinch another American “humbug” character. I wouldn’t be surprised if the origin of the Grinch was dreamt up by some marketing executive in a moment of inspiration. Let’s guilt the public into buying gifts for others in the name of generosity of spirit, in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ. If you really contemplate it, do you think Christ would be promoting a once a year, buying and giving spree rather than a continuous generosity born of genuine affection rooted in a daily spirit of love and appreciation?

Are we so consumed by the modern frenzy and speed of life on an average day? Alvin  Toffler wrote “Future Shock” way back in the early sixties. Have we stopped to notice the effects on our own health and well being of others from our over stimulated, compulsive “doing” and manically over-achieving society?  The symptoms of depression and anxiety are seen in our ever growing dependence on pharmaceuticals to mask and manage these symptoms. 

How would life here be different for us all if we began to be satisfied with owning the same car for 8 or ten years? Buying a house just large enough for the size and needs of our families instead of some extravagant castle?  Working only 40 hours a week and leaving ourselves time and energy to spend with our families in activities that nurture our bodies and souls?

Is it time to wake up neighbors? Wake up perhaps and see that the solution to the dilemmas we face economically, environmentally, physically, psychologically and spiritually are driven by our unbalanced manic racing towards “more, better, faster”.  When is enough enough? How is your peace and serenity doing?

Another obvious and fatal result of our frenzied lifestyle in our alleged ”developed nations” is our life threatening addictions like drinking, smoking, lusting, gambling, money, power and over eating to name just a few. On the other end of our dis-ease we are greeted by debilitating and/or fatal afflictions such as heart attacks, cancer and the myriad forms of illness that all to some degree or another suffer from. 

We are the only animals on this planet that do harm to ourselves, that knowingly practice unhealthy behaviors. How bad do things have to get for us all before we are willing to collectively stop, and take a united and realistic assessment of how our behaviors, beliefs and habitual ways of thinking are driving us toward extinction?  Call me an alarmist or a curmudgeon like Scrooge and keep your head buried in the sand  but if we don’t awaken to our unmindful self defeating actions now, we will continue to pay the price until perhaps we are no longer around to pay at all.

A WARRIOR'S CREED

A WARRIOR'S CREED

I have no home...I make awareness my home.

I have no body...I make endurance my body.

I have no means...I make commitment my means.

I have no magic secrets...I make character my magic secrets.

I have no designs...I make "seizing opportunity" my design.

I have no enemy...I make apathy my enemy.

I have no armor...I make "trust my heart" my armor.

I have no castle...I make integrity my castle.

I have no strategy...I make love my strategy.

I have no tactics..I make spontaneity my tactics.

I have no miracles...I make everything my miracle.

GRAYNESS

GRAYNESS

The breeze feels like forgiveness today.

I am comforted by cloudiness,

and certain of uncertainty

as right and wrong and black and white

stop blaming one another,

instead turn gray.

I blanket myself with acceptance,

far from the delusional cruelty 

of opinions and judgments.

Everyone;

we are all doing the very best we can

at all times. 

Compassion 

will save the day.

                        

Think gray.

GRATEFUL FOR:

Grateful For:

sunrises, sunsets,

soft breezes, wind chimes,

dogs and the sound of power saws,

neighbors building and repairing things,

favorite foods, popcorn, chocolate,

movies that move me,

a good nights sleep, a brand new day,

beauty, art and music,

the written word and truths spoken,

honest joy and instructive pain,

conversations and arguments,

difficulties and victories,

loss, and grief

and unexpected pleasure,

the generosity of people,

their inherent kindness,

children-yours and mine,

old people whose eyes still twinkle,

our absurd and often deranged behavior

and the ability to see this and laugh our asses off,

fear, and then 

the safety found in faith

and trusting in a loving universe,

accidents 

and the possibility that there are none,

the people I hold in my heart

who hold me in theirs,

that listen and accept me as i am,

and trust me to do the same for them,

this breath,

& if I’m still lucky,

the next one too..

WATER

Water

Creator bathed the barren earth with light

And watered it with love,

Rivers and ponds, streams and lakes,

  oceans of love.

Love flowing unseen and underground

In springs waiting to reveal themselves.

Waterfalls of love cascading down from cliffs

And exploding into frothy pools of

healing love, cooling love, soothing love,

warming love, salty love, quenching love.

Love weeps, love bleeds,

It courses through our veins;

little rivers running thru us.

And all there was and all there is 

is water, water everywhere.

Water within us, 

Water without us.

Sky water, ground water,

Ice water, sweet water, 

Salt water, deep water.

Water..

We were born into water,

Nourished and secured by it. 

Love flows like water, 

It grows like water, 

It knows like water, 

And like water, 

Love renews itself again and again.

PAIN WRITES A POEM

PAIN WRITES A POEM

In 1969 there was a bumper sticker going around that said,

 “Never trust anyone over 30”.

I understood it perfectly,

I was twenty.

I didn’t think that I’d ever have to worry about becoming  one of 

them.

 Not the way I was living my life those days..

Lost.

High school over,

College disappointing, 

Dreams of adventuring the country 

on the back of a motorcycle with my best buddy

up in smoke,

(literally)

and drowned in downers. 

He found heroin and a shy quiet southern girl

with dark eyes and hair and sad secrets kept to herself.

I found more smoke and dope

and beautiful young women with whom I slipped lustfully

into love with 

in the wee hours of darkened bars.

Morning sunlight washed away the desperate lonely night

as I crept away lonely time and time again.

I had lost my heart

but didn’t know it. 

That love center went

out of business with the last betrayal. 

Time, 

like Ol’ Man River

kept rollin, rolling along.

Mourning my life and abandoned dreams 

of what might have been, 

I awoke one morning 

and discovered I was thirty.

And the next morning I was thirty-five.

Rebelling against authority

ever since my original trust in life 

was beaten out of me by events and people 

beyond my control,

I discovered I no longer trusted

my self. 

This morning

after so many years 

of searching for my lost joy

in all the wrong places outside myself,

I find it hard to keep going.

At this age of 69 I think

perhaps I have outlived my life

by more than twice the age of trust.

Everything important seems to be behind me:

the marriage,

the children,

the career, 

the music and art, 

the book still not written..

The coffee still tastes wonderful as always

but it no longer lifts my spirit or enthuses me.

No.

instead I sit writing these words,

then reading the words others have written,

waiting for my back and neck and shoulders and knees to loosen

so I can move less painfully,

so I can get just a glimpse of the powerful young body

I relied on so well

before the wrecking ball of time

knocked me off my feet 

and over the line between thirty-five and sixty-nine. 

I had cataract surgery last year.

I finally got those hearings aids.

My ears are artificially young again.

Maybe there is something can be done 

for the big arthritic toe that groans,

along with my sciatica  

as I take my daily walk 

careful of that knee.

This body has become a tattered old suit

that will rot back into soil

feeding worms and trees.

Some days,

the end is something 

I even look forward to.

I LOVE YOU

I LOVE YOU, I LOVE YOU

In the quiet darkness just before dawn

before even birds begin singing,

all that can be heard

is the silent prayer of longing

to be lifted close enough

to God’s mouth to clearly hear

what he is always saying,

“I love you, I love you, I love you”.

GOD'S BEST ADVICE

GOD’S BEST ADVICE

The air begins to crackle 

with the rising heat,

Like animals fleeing an oncoming Tsunami

the little ones sense it first.

There is nothing they can do but

Tremble inside as they attempt

To divert the attention to themselves.

They try desperately to be funny,

cute, clever or needy.

Failing that they may be bad while knowing

You will forgive them

Before you ever forgive each other.

Putting his big, bright, frightened face

Between his mother and me he suggests,

“Forgive”

“Give in,” says the brother,

From the mouths of babes,

From the hearts of babes,

Issues God’s best advice.

HOLY ODOR

HOLY ODOR

 The emptiness within me

Is me, missing my own presence

while I am off on this endless

 wild goose chase for wholeness.

 God is apparent.

Time and again

sacred flowers bloom 

around and within me.

I close my eyes,

I smell the fragrance 

of my own

divinity.

HOME SWEET HOME

HOME SWEET HOME

My ear to a cloud

Listening for directions,

Wondering which way the wind blows.

A bell tolls..

Don’t ask for who,

There is no body here but you.

You knew this,

But forgot again.

With your inhale hope returns,

With the exhale stillness and peace.

There was never any place to go,

was there?

You have always been home,

You have always been home.

COVERT ADVICE

COVERT ADVICE FROM A FATHER TO A SON

It’s an interesting game 

this thing we call life

it will challenge and bring you 

to struggles and strife

we forget who we are

in our need to belong

we abandon ourselves

to be part of the throng

some get it right

but most have it wrong

unite with your own self

and sing your own song

there’s a way to connect

without losing your head

choose sometimes to follow

when you trust where you’re led

through kind hearted actions

and not what is said

your soul is your own

so be sure it gets fed

don’t sell out for the pleasures

that come and then go

keep in sight of the light

don’t get lost in the glow

or seduced by the ego 

what you think that you know

be true to yourself and 

don’t play tell and show

surrender desires

and go with your flow

wash yourself of yourself

be like melting snow

come back to your wholeness

there is no where to go

remember that this 

hide and seek is a game

keep sight of your truth

don’t forget why you came

we are all so unique

yet we still are the same

don’t be held back by fear

or hidden by shame

don’t get lost in your ego

and kidnapped by fame

account for your choices

there’s no one to blame

through the valleys and shadows

hold tight to one name

be it allah or yahweh

mohammed or christ

hindi or buddha

or yoda, the force

they are all the same god

all from the same source

it was fun to go rhyming

and play with the words

this poem is profound

and this poem is absurd

a fathers advice

by a son can’t be heard

so step into your own shoes

away from the herd

listen hard for your hearts voice

become your own Nerd. 

IT'S ALL IN YOUR MIND

                               IT’S ALL IN YOUR MIND

We are in the kitchen of my house, just the two of us now that my dad and 4 sibs have finished their dinners and gone to watch television in the den. I am eight or nine or so-still young enough to be “forced” into obeying my parents, one way or another.

“Harvey!”  “If you don’t finish your peas I’m going to set the “buzzer” on you, my mother threatened. 

“Well, you might as well set it now cause I am not putting them in my mouth,” I declared. 

And so she did. Set the buzzer. As she had so many times before. You would have thought by now that my mother would have noted that I was NEVER going to put any of her “canned” vegetables into my mouth. Besides the putrid smell of canned vegetables the real deal breaker was the texture. Mushy, smushy…yuk!  That went for string beans, spinach, lima beans, (any beans really), as well as for peas. To tell you the truth, I don’t know if I even knew where vegetables came from until I was out of the house, on my own shopping and seeing fresh produce for the first time in my life. My mother was just about the worst cook I was ever to know. It may have had something to do with the martini’s she began imbibing at 4pm each day.  Dinner was never the main event and it suffered a horrible neglect you could definitely count upon. 
                                          ***

The buzzer was the timer on the stove. Of the five of us sibs there is no doubt that I held the record for buzzer settings and sittings.  Again, you’d think after all my failures to finish my veggies in the allotted time, mom would have learned to skip the buzzer (since there was no way in hell I’d EVER eat em) and just send me to my room which is what happened when the stupid buzzer finally made it’s horrible “loser” sound.

“When will you ever learn Harvey” ,  my mom would enjoin.

“Apparently never mother. Or hadn’t you noticed..?”

Oh yes, I was a bit of a back talker, a rebel without a cause although I thought I had plenty of valid reasons for being so defiant of my mother’s authority. She was a pretty crazy lady. Slowly but surely as I grew older I grew also to despise her.  Why was that?  How about this for one good example?

One evening when dinner was over and I was once again awaiting my punishment; early to bed during the summer at least 2 hours before darkness arrived, mom ran out of patience with me. This time my refusal involved lima beans; soft, smushy, gushy pukey pale lima beans. They weren’t even green and still I hated em. My mother reentered the kitchen with my older brother the bully, Phil. 

“Harvey” my mother started, I am going to prove to you once and for all that all this resistance to eating your vegetables is all in your mind.”

“I don’t think so mother”, I replied testily. 

Philip, my older brother was enlisted to provide the muscle needed to force feed me. I watch as she piled mounds of lima beans onto a Kaiser roll. 

“What are you doing”, I asked regarding this new approach to making me do something I didn’t wanna do.

“You’re not even going to taste them. Open your mouth,” she commanded! 

“No way,” I replied.

“Philip-help me out here,” she said and Philip was more than happy to oblige her.

Philip pulled my arm up behind my back putting me in a hammer lock. He continued to apply more and more pressure while my mother held the threatening bean sandwich hovering at my mouth just waiting for an opening, literally. The pain got intolerable pretty quickly. I I acquiesced and grudgingly opened my mouth. 

“There,” mother exclaimed!  You see-i told you it was all in your mind”.

As soon  as Philip released my arm I fled to the bathroom and puked my guts out.  This gave my mother pause. I’m sure she had high expectations of what the outcome of her new strategy would be and it wasn’t me throwing up my entire dinner. I think the sound of my retching was a bit much for her too.

“Go to your room,” she yelled, pointing towards the second floor as she had so many times before. 

` “Gladly,” I replied and the truth is I was always glad to get out of that kitchen and the whole scene that so often went down there. 

I think what my mother never knew was that she helped encourage my reading skills.  What was I going to do until dark but read a book. Books transported me out of and far away from my house, my mother and brother. Books took me away from my unhappiness. Not only did reading take me far away from my reality but it gave me the opportunity to envision myself differently. My favorite readings at the time were about animals; I got to become Lobo, the lone wolf. I could smell 200 times better than mere humans could. I could run faster and tirelessly. I could chase and catch a rabbit and put my powerful jaws around it and snap the life out of it with ease. Looking back, being an animal in my imagination was so much more preferable to being a powerless child in a house that rarely made sense to me. I heard the Call of the Wild, I reveled in the power and speed of the wolf. I devoured stories like I devoured prey in the books I read. I was wild. I was free.  

                                             ***

ONE AND THE SAME

console yourself, 

for your separation from God

is the hardest work there is..

Hafiz

ONE AND THE SAME

Veiled from my own radiance

I continue to play 

this game of hide and seek with God and with myself

As if we are separate.

Is it too much to want,

a true and sustainable peace with myself?

Pray once a day with words,

Pray with hands that work,

Pray from your heart

As you tend to what is growing 

In the rich uncertain soil of your soul.

Pray softly like morning dew on grass,

Open like a sacred playground.

Let others swing on you, 

Teeter-totter,

Wrestle in your sandbox.

Become what ever is necessary, 

Be all things to all people, 

Expand beyond the limits 

Of your disbeliefs,

Imagine,

Imagine God, 

Imagine God and You

Are One and the Same.