The Vagaries of Choice

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October 4, 2022- I once happened by a small corral, occupied by two full-grown horses. Someone who was nearby said that while the animals were well-fed, they were never let out of the corral. He wondered how they were still able to move around. We both wondered how the animals were experiencing life.

I thought about that today, when someone replied to my comment on a post by a nationally-known columnist. She took a different view from mine, but thanked me for correcting an earlier comment she had made, which left her looking ignorant. I feel that is the least one can do for another; not because I am above her in intellectual stature, but because no one should sacrifice dignity for lack of information. It does not matter so much how someone views life, as how they express that viewpoint.

I thought of her objections to the practices of a certain religion. I then thought of my own struggles with certain aspects of spirituality. The struggles that each of us have, because of free will, invariably pit our search for quality of life in this physical plane against our sense of what lies afterward. So many, including the person mentioned above, seem to equate this life with the afterlife. I certainly used to.

Time has brought lessons that have made me see way beyond the comeliness of a woman, the seemingly charmed lives of some friends and neighbours, the gregariousness of a person who appears to be wildly popular. Any one of those people could tell stories of loss and despair, some of which would exceed any troubles I myself have known. While I was sitting and waiting for my meal, this evening, a very pretty young lady told of recently going through exactly the same situation I experienced in September, 2021: Being 50% at fault for a car wreck. We make some choices that benefit us, and others that put us through the wringer. This life spares no one.

So, what is the point of free will? I would say, in my limited understanding, that it is a series of opportunities for each of us to hone our spiritual attributes-Love, patience, courtesy, honesty, forbearance, generosity, trustworthiness, and many others. I would say it is a series of opportunities to prepare for a far more intense life of the spirit, once the body is left behind.

I can choose for no one else, save the incapacitated and the very young. No one else can choose for me.

A Bit About Happiness

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December 4, 2019-

Yesterday, whilst enjoying a bowl of soup and slice of avocado toast, I was amused by a little girl running gingerly back and forth, from her father’s table to a small shelf that had toys and books.  Her happiness flowed outward-and was contagious.

There is some “back and forth”, on sites like Quora and other online places, as to the part that happiness plays in one’s life.  There are those who maintain that happiness is a goal, or rather, THE goal, of a person’s life.  Others say “No, it is triumph over suffering, that is THE goal of this life.”

I maintain that happiness is a baseline, not a goal, of life.  ‘Abdu’l-Baha would ask people “Are you happy?  If you are not happy today, for what day do you wait?”  Think of the dreariest of mornings-perhaps in the dark of winter, or on an early spring day, with cold drizzle and snow remnants, blackened by soot.  Chances are, you won’t know of this state of affairs until you get out of bed.   So, it is the mood that accompanies a person, when she or he awakes and gets up, which sets the tone.  The outward dreariness does not have to define one’s life.

Of course, physical ailments have much to do with the mood of the day, as well.  So do social circumstances.  These, however, do not have to circumvent basic happiness.  I think of my late wife, bedridden for most of her final year in this life.  Even when she was conveying her thoughts about her condition, her decline, there was an air of  contentment, that she felt caring and love coming her way-this, from a base of happiness.

There is a common theme, in many of the world’s Constitutions, that the pursuit of happiness is an inherent right of  every human being.  Happiness, though, is already latent within us.  It is obvious, in the eyes of an infant, or the joyful run of a toddler, that the state of being happy exists from the inside out.  It is much like love-and actually flows out from the love that also is basic to our existence.

Love brought us into being, sustains us through ordeals and is with us, in the end.  Happiness, whether from quotidian events or from grand experiences, is also enduringly present, if one chooses to recognize its presence.

The goal of life?  To me, that is developing one’s strengths, positive attributes, to the greatest of  one’s ability.

The Road to 65, Mile 281: Misogyny

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September 4, 2015- I grew up in a very hedonistic decade.  It became second nature for me to first notice the physical attributes of the opposite gender, from the time I was eight.  This was pretty much how it continued for me, until I was married, and noticing other women  struck me as extremely rude.

Even so, I also grew up with a sense of profound respect for those girls and women whose intellectual and spiritual attributes equaled or exceeded anything physical.  My mother, aunts and sister have always been well-spoken and mannerly, which added to the threshold of the type of woman to whom I was drawn, and Penny fit every category.  She assessed me in much the same way, and our marriage was one of equals.

I thought of these things, whilst reading more pages of “The Way of The Peaceful Warrior”.  Dan Millman puts forth a farcical tone, with regard to his attraction to women and, almost like the lead male characters in other ’60’s period pieces, he wanders from one pretty woman to another.  He thus faces one comeuppance after another, despite his spiritual progress.

Awhile back, a reader came on one of my posts and chortled, in a rather hostile manner, about what a misogynist I was, for over-using the term “beautiful”, with regard to women. Objectifying, among people of both genders, is a rather deep-rooted aspect of many people’s lives, but it hardly is akin to hatred.

Nonetheless, I have gone deep into my psyche, to look at this matter and to actively work at building more depth to my friendships, beyond what I was already practicing and to see each friend, regardless of gender, as a person who is far more than what she or he first presents.  This is, after all, what sustained my marriage, and what now must sustain all my relationships.

Misogyny and misandry are harsh words, as is racism.  The three terms, I’m afraid, are bandied about, almost too indiscriminately, both by hurt people and by those, such as my erstwhile critic, who would manipulate them and whip up a reactionary frenzy.  We all have work to do, in both gender relations and race relations. I am making progress, and am delighted by the friendships I have both made, and strengthened, over the past few years.  More than likely, my angel approves.