“When I was a child, I spoke as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child: but when I became a man, I put away childish things.” A lot of us have heard the preceding Bible verse before. Some are familiar with the context because they exist in a faith environment, while others have a cultural familiarity to it. That cultural familiarity is interesting to me, since the Judeo-Christian culture has influenced political, legal, familial, and other aspect of social development in Western culture so much. There are phrases such as: I wash my hands of it; A bird in hand is worth two in the bush; A broken heart; A cross to bear; The apple of my eye; and many others that have biblical origins. People from all walks of life, with no exposure to Christianity use such phrases regularly without any inkling as to their origin.

I want to go back to the phrase that I started this piece with: When I was a child… This comes from 1st Corinthians 13:11. The context is a discussion of love and how love is eternal. Out of the many attributes that many of us hold dearly: wisdom, the ability to understand mysteries; a charitable heart, and other personal qualities society cherishes, none is as valuable as love. I wholeheartedly agree with that.

Yes, I do agree with 1^st Corinthians 13:11. Who am I to take issue with the Bible? However, I would love to see more demonstrations of a child-like attitude in the world today. I realize that the acquisition of knowledge and the development of wisdom that hopefully comes after is important for the betterment of us all. Are you familiar with Laurel and Hardy? They were a couple of comedic actors from the early Twentieth Century who caused countless outbursts of laughter with their talent. Their famous catchphrase was, “Well, here’s another nice mess you’ve gotten me into.” They weren’t the originators of the phrase, but they made it popular. W.S. Gilbert earlier used it.

I often remember with joy when I was a child. Specifically, that age before adults began to indoctrinate me to the virtues of responsibility, maturity, and taking things seriously. Funny, I remember considering my playing and enjoying myself immensely each day as serious endeavors. However, adults wanted me to start preparing myself for those adult things like, having a job, contributing in a tangible way to society, considering the opinions of others as it relates to me, worrying that comes from not having enough (of anything). At seventy-three, I’m now realizing I could have kept my child-like ability to enjoy the heck out of life, and not take myself too darn seriously. Please don’t get me wrong; I’m not saying adults should live with a devil-may-care attitude, but should being an adult take most of the fun out of life?

With nice messes occurring all over the world currently; war in the Middle east, war between Russia and Ukraine, conflict in Ethiopia, Hati being held captive by gangs, senseless gun deaths daily in the United States…no need to mention more, the child-like attitude of enjoying each day would be a welcomed phenomenon. If you have the urge to tell me to grow up, I understand. Someone must be responsible for creating all the nice messes that provide fodder for the twenty-four-hour news feed.

I’m old and blessed…hope you will be too.

I recall how my mother would talk in detail about things that occurred in her life decades ago. She seemingly left no details undescribed. This was during the time that she was on the downward spiral, suffering from the ravages of Alzheimer’s. Everyone I’ve ever spoken to who has accompanied a loved one on this debilitating journey talks about how Alzheimer’s patients speak of the past as if it were current events. My mother was an excellent talking head about times long past. She’s been dead now for five years. I’ve been thinking about her, as I normally do regularly. Often when I think about her, I find myself recalling things that happened decades ago. At seventy-three, there’s a lot of history available for me to replay in my head.

I’ve come to realize that recalling the past in vivid detail isn’t something reserved for those with Alzheimer’s or any other form or dementia. Speaking for myself, this gift of recall seems to be available for all of us codgers to use. I’m amazed at how I can replay events in my head that happened five decades ago with detail unsurpassed by any high-definition video device. Not only can I see crystal clear images, but I can also hear, smell, and feel every stimulant that peppered the experience at the time it occurred. Sometimes, I have no control over when this mental cinematics are projected on the screen inside my head. Quiet moments spent in meditation can trigger them. Having a conversation with someone can also take me back in time. And dreams during bedtime slumber often provide an opportunity for a mixture of visions to do their thing.

It’s been said that one’s life flashes before their eyes in some cases just before they die. I’m not so sure about that; however, I am enjoying these little trips to the movies in my mind. I’ve done no research to support this, but I think every experience we’ve ever had is recorded on that hard drive installed in our brain. We can access that data voluntarily, with some degree of accuracy, if necessary. But somehow the subconscious’ playbacks are much more entertaining.

Getting older has its benefits. Experiencing memories in HD is one of them. I want to hang on a while longer so I can collect more stuff for dreams. Don’t you?

I’m old and blessed…hope you will be too.

What follows is a reblog of a piece written by one of my cyber friends. I’ve come to love and respect her spirit very much. After reading this piece, I was moved to share it with all (few in number) of my followers. I’ll also share it on other social media platforms to which I subscribe. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I did.

Hard personal confessions

Most of us are familiar with what happens if we put a frog in a pot of water that’s at room temperature. The critter, being an amphibian will sit there, I assume happy as can be. But put a fire under the pot. Don’t turn the flame up to full force immediately, just let it slowly increase the temperature of the water. The creature will eventually cook, because it can’t distinguish the dangerous rise in temperature in time enough to escape its demise. Its thermostat is dysfunctional in this setting.

The incident just described is analogous to what’s happening on our planet, the only home we have in the vast, presumably infinite universe. (I’m not a scientist, but the universe seems infinite to me.) The statistics for 2023, so far is that this is the hottest year for the planet on record. I was watching an episode of the PBS series America Outdoors with Baratunde Thurston recently, highlighting several outdoor events in the state of Utah. One of the experts he had on the show said that if something isn’t done to reverse the trend, the Great Salt Lake with evaporate in five years. Of course, I’m no expert, but I can see the changes in my little sliver of the world that have been occurring over my seventy-three years on the planet. It’s October and the weather forecast for Central and Southern Arkansas for the next ten days reads like late spring. Temperatures for this neck of the woods in the 1960s required us to wear clothing much more substantive than shorts and t-shirts.

The poor frog had no control over its fate. It was lifted from whatever space it occupied, placed in the pot of water, and simmered until life no longer animated its body. We, on the other hand, are supposed to be intelligent beings. Many of us have come to accept through our faith tradition, that the Creator fancies us to be the apex of her creation. We are aware of the increasing speed at which our planet is heating up. Furthermore, we are aware of what we’re doing to cause this. We continue to consume resources in amounts far beyond the necessary amounts for life. Less is more is a principle we don’t comprehend. It’s not as if we don’t know what to do. Consider this: A few years ago, we were alerted that there was a hole in the ozone layer of our planet’s atmosphere. The hole was increasing in size, allowing harmful ultraviolet (UV) radiation to reach the surface. Have you noticed that you don’t hear much about the hole in the ozone layer anymore? Could it be because there was this thing called the Montreal Protocol in 1989, a global agreement to protect the Earth’s ozone layer by phasing out the chemicals that deplete it. This little effort is being touted as one of the most successful environmental efforts ever. The ozone layer is now on track to recover within four decades.

So, do we know what to do but we choose not to do it when the sacrifice might encroach on the wonderfully rich economic life a few of us enjoy? Will we continue to sit in the pot of water, noticing the rise in the water’s temperatures? That might not be a perceived problem for many of us, because we can simply turn down the thermostat on the walls of our too-large homes we occupy. The pot is far larger than the unnaturally regulated spaces we (individually) occupy, and the water is getting hotter each year.

Who’s the dumbest creature, us, or the frog?

I’m old and blessed…hope you will be too.