Who Has Seen The Wind?

No one sees the wind but it shows itself when it is high. To sleep through a wild night of winds all around our domains is a lesson in its strengths. We hear, sleeplessly, its roarings and whistlings. Objects fly about and are pushed around by it. We try to accommodate our possessions to protect them, but, at times, the winds prove a more powerful force. Most of the time on this moderately weathered coast, we don't consider winds as something to be concerned about. If  one is out on a boat, however, always and ever, or should be, very close attention is paid to winds. We assess its patterns, the comings and goings, its speeds and possible duration. One's life depends upon this knowledge when venturing out in water bound vessels, be they large or small craft. Sailboats are designed to take the wind but only to an extent the vessel is worthy of. Sailing folk, read the winds closely and make use of them through their knowledge and experiences. They know the limitations of their ships.  Motor boaters try to avoid heavy winds that are beyond their abilities to take a heavy sea. Large ships also have great respect for the winds because they must cross great bodies of water under any conditions when they are on the high seas. But inside our own homes, we listen to the winds and while they seem exciting, their results can often be more. We hear unfamiliar sounds and while they may be innocent, they pique our curiosities and sometimes, fears.  If we live under great trees, our concerns are valid. Flying branches can smash windows, fall on roofs, travelling cars and people outdoors and could thus do serious damage. Driving during a windstorm, and I am not speaking of  tornadoes or  hurricanes, but just  good, high winds, can be frightening with leaves and man-made detritus blowing past on highways and roads. In spite of all efforts for hydro companies to prevent such accidents, trees near lines, do blow down and make repair work not only difficult, but dangerous when power outages pull these people out of their own beds and into storms to service for us, downed poles or wires. Weather becomes news when thousands of people are left without power due to winds. We have come to depend upon generated electricity. In a storm, traffic lights may go out, businesses using power: restaurants and offices, have to close. In our own homes, we use power for heating and lighting and the running of our appliances and other electronics. We depend upon it for our spoiled creature comforts. Suddenly, Nature's wind becomes big news. It shows its vast power in  being directly responsible for deaths, for closing down vital transportation lanes and certainly  in putting many people to great inconvenience. and even in danger. It takes a good storm to make us appreciate the power of natural forces and how used to feeling protected we are from them. We should  appreciate the gift of living not just within our own human controls but that we exist among earth-wide natural phenomena that are generally friendly and safe, but they can and do, truly rule our lives. They've been around well before man came on the scene and will continue well after we've gone.

The Art Of Dumpery

Romance today has rules that defy such matters as courtesy. The art of lying when "picking up" a companion (shall we call it) absolutely requires this form of flattery. The intended target may not be your ideal choice, but who actually lands The Ideal? Well, perhaps until the shine wears off and reality sets in. Finding someone only coming close to what you have on your list of perfect mates, is likely what's going to happen. When you get to know the one you found, and found the one who came as close as you are likely to achieve , you may see that your "list" needed editing in the first place. And so you continue on with the romance until it wears out, or one or the other of you "dumps" him or her. Dumping is quite different than being dumped. There is the dumper and the dumpee. Either way, there are forms of going about it. There is the direct dump, the sneak dump, and the double play. In the direct dump, there are a few hard words and then that's the last of seeing the back of the head you used to adore. The sneak dump, the rudest one, is a text or phone call with a final good-bye. The double play is when you learn  that you are no longer a duet but are now into a trio. All three methods, while seemingly unfair, are pretty much the way it goes. We won't discuss the dumper further, because that party is already enjoying him or herself with a new conquest or running back to the old safe one. In any event, it is likely going to last about the same time as the one you just lost, given the perp's history and all. I prefer to call being dumped," taking out the garbage". Anyone who dumps someone and leaves without proper discussion, is simply, that: a substance that is no longer useful. If you are dumped, consider yourself fortunate to be rid of what is extraneous material. So what does the dumpee do? First need is ice-cream straight-up and reverting to favorite old sweat suits.  But after the carton is empty and you see yourself in the baggy jumpsuit in a full-length mirror, other tactics should be employed. Rule number one, is patience. Rule two is, don't do anything drastic for at least six months other than not eating ice-cream. The sweats can stay, but only for emergencies. Temptations to e mail nasty letters, make phone calls in the middle of the night or  trash the tail lights of the dumper, do occur, but they are as practical as head banging. Finding  someone else at any cost, whatever that may be, helps some people, but my theory, is just wait it out and spend time indulging in something you didn't have time to do when your former was around. I like computer games and blogging. Do something harmless and positive, and do it every time the blues hit. And they do hit. You can be lying there in the middle of the night having awakened from a lovely dream of former times, and wham, you realize there will never be the old you-know-who again in your life. You know that all the love and attention you gave to that creature was wasted effort. Get up, have a coffee and read or TV or game. Imagine you have slammed a door on the past and now are moving on down that hallway to open up another door, one that leads to wiser and better things. Just remember, that while you might feel you have been cast off, it is really only dead leaves you don't need, that are missing. They are gone and have, in the going, fed you the distinct possibility of better, new times ahead.

Come ON!

"The Campaign Trail"? What is that? It's a lot of "sound and fury signifying nothing". Way too much time, energy and money that could do better, is spent on sheer nonsense. Do we need to "expose" party members to the public at large or listen to their  promises? No, we don't. We just think we do because we are brain-washed by various folks who make a lot of money "on the campaign trail" who tell us that we do.  Who are the folks? They are the groomers of these show times and places and people. Advertising via the media takes its share. Venues such as halls and rooms and caterers and cleaners make their money on it. I could go on. Think of the time wasted by those who are in "power" pouring their paid time into campaigning. Is it  useful to the average tax-paying citizen? No, not any more than their expensive travel to other countries to eat at the tables of other politicians at the expense of their tax payers. I may sound disloyal to the political machine but really, politicians would likely rather be at their desks getting things done than running around the country in pretty suits and make-up. Furthermore, of what value are the promises made during these runnings-about speechifying? Promises are, as ever, only as good as their doing and not at all, in their saying. When a politician does get elected, there are so many factions and reasons to or not to, carry out the promises that is it simply, a waste of time to run around making them. What happens day to day, is what makes things happen. World economies, political unrest, disease, natural disasters can change government plans no matter how astute world "leaders" are. To promise to lower taxes and up grants, down crime and up standards of living. is ridiculous. These things are all dependent upon money and we all know about money. If we have any of it to know. Those of us who used to pore over newspapers about what party will do what, have become less secure in what is said and wholly dependent upon what the market says or whether our paychecks will stretch this week or not. What some well off politician is saying on the campaign trail, doesn't pay the gas or grocery bills or buy the kids their running shoes. While we yak on about who to vote for, that one vote is all we have to express ourselves and how we feel. Unfortunately, I am not really sure if it does much to make my life better. But, it's all I have, and I guess even though I discount what promises are made, I get to take a look at a face that might give me a clue as to who should lead this country. It's all I have. One vote. And in spite of everything I have ground out today, I am jolly well going to use it. But I wish the campaign trail was much shorter and made of solid concrete - concrete plans for the betterment of our everyday common man and woman lives.

All American

Travelling around the world here and there, you mix with people from many countries. I am not speaking of those you meet for a short time on your travels through their borders, but the ones you travel with. These are the people you get to know rather intimately as you share the wiles of  ship or land journeying for weeks at a time. There are  social occasions on trips of this sort. Time and time again, we, in a group, and there is no better way to travel, are introduced as our country: Chinese, American, Russian, Canadian and so on. For some odd reason, we imply that those from a certain country are examples of the popular identity attributed to that place globally. For example, and pardon me for these foolish tags, they're not mine, a Scot is thrifty, a Canadian is nice, an American is loud, a Frenchman, romantic and an Italian, a natural opera singer, etc. Most of us understand that these labels are wholly ridiculous cartoon images but we hold them to be kind of factual even though we know they are perhaps only partly correct. In this cosmopolitan world there is no reason for these old-fashioned ideas of traits, but you get the point. For some reason, the term "American" that is given to those who are inhabitants of the United States, seems askew to me. Everyone from North, Central and South America, is "American". I stand by that statement. Often times,  when it comes my turn to tell where I am from, unpopularly, I say "I, too, am American, but my country is Canada". There are gasps. You would think I dropped a bowl of soup on the floor. The shocked looks around the space are daunting - well, to anyone but me. I have no truck with niceties or poses as you have sensed reading my blogs. The truth is the bare truth when it comes right down to it. Yes, we of the two continents of the Americas, are indeed Americans. Our countries are Peru or Mexico or Canada but we are Americans of the Americas. The best part is, that U.S. Americans never seem take offense at that statement. They are very open folk, and while they have may their secret opinions, they are quite generous about sharing Americania with all the rest of us. For one thing, it gives them a chance to talk about being a citizen of the United States of America. They can launch into how hard won it was and who the heros are and were, and how financially influential it is in the world. Okay, so  what do we call them? U.S.ers or United Statesites or USof Aers? I suppose long ago, it was shortened to "Americans" rather than United States of Americans for the sake of brevity and convenience of tongue. But occasionally we need to freshen up and shake out the truth.

Eyes Wide Shut

I think the title of this blog today is a movie title but it is so appropriate for my topic that I will keep it. We can have our "eyes wide open" and walk into the most ridiculous situations, perhaps ones that are bad for us. I suppose it is one of those human errors ie. "to err is human", we occasionally meet. In the past few months my eyes have been "opened" to a couple of relationships that were wrong. Ever found that? One lasted for about four years on and off, and the other was a life-time one. The first involved an individual who came to me in a lie but I couldn't see it that way. Others warned me to watch out because  they sensed the wrong, but in matters of the heart, who listens? I must say it was not the perp's fault entirely because I fully participated. The second one was so close that I couldn't see the sham. All of the evidence to quit these negative messes was blatantly visible, but somehow peace-making was the pattern I grew up with. Then. And although Mr and Ms Perp knew full well what they were up to, I, in the back of my mind, probably knew it also. We get into these things foolishly knowing how they will end up. We tell ourselves that the good times out-weigh the bad ones and therefore, we should go on and on. One relationship was familial and those, while common, are the most difficult to put a stop to. Guilt enters in. The old adage, "blood is thicker than water" sorts of words, float in, to colour it hard. But finally, time after time of being booted around emotionally, one gets the message. "End it", fate screams in your ear. And finally you make the big decision. Now, without going into the gory details, after being drummed constantly by one's own conscience continuously warning you to stop hurting yourself, you begin to see the light. The "aha" creeps in when, time and time again, wondering why this is happening to you, you get a true glimpse of yourself feeling badly. You recognize that you have gone through this so many times that it is old-hat. "Oh, here I go again" you say, as you wipe away the tears.  And one day, you say to yourself, this must stop. The back of your mind says, "But how?" That's the hard part. How? Someone I  trust gave me a clue. He said, "Just stop it - have no contact whatsoever with this bad thing." That was good advice. For people to think that the good times outweigh the bad ones, is incorrect.  If there are bad times, they need to end. There shouldn't be "bad times". I saw a movie  called The Heiress. The female character, a gentle soul, saw herself as inferior having permitted that abuse for so long, it seemed normal. She had convinced herself that she was unable to confront the issue openly, and was, in her own light, indeed a failure. When her cruel father denied her his estate if she married the man who clearly was after her fortune, he would disinherit her. When her lover heard of it, off he went. The woman realized her mistake. When her father died, she inherited a fortune. Back came the suitor. This time she led him on, and in the last scene, locking the doors against him, she went upstairs to bed, candle in hand, with a victorious smile on her face. She had finally empowered herself. To fix the bad in your life, break off what's hurting you,  take time to remember the bad times, not the good ones. Contrary to what psychologists recommend, take the low road. Forget the  positive bits and slam into the bad  reasons to end the relationship. Having done that, chuck the bitterness over your shoulder and get on with your own happiness. You deserve better. You deserve the best.

Who Am I?

This question is likely the most asked one of all time. The search for one's id, lies in his ego. What is the ego? It's the part of you that you know and that doesn't always, and is never fully to, reveal itself to others. Nor does it need to. If you went out and asked ten of your friends, relatives and acquaintances, who you are, they would each have different opinions and give all sorts of examples to support their theories. None of them would be entirely right, nor entirely wrong. Parts of what they say might be correct, but what their ideas are, taken as a whole, would be incorrect. You are much more than what one person sees. Why? First of all, you show to some people what you don't to others. You are a different person on the job, in your family or among your friends. Your parent, likely your mother, or your mate, might claim to be the one who knows you best. Not so. Even with the closest people you trust, your ego keeps a part of you back for only you to know. Second of all, you need to keep your most private self, private. It's the place you go to and trust, where no one else can go. It's what you have created or that which has been created in and by you, over the entire space of your lifetime. It has dark corners and brilliant lights and flashes of colour that only you know. It is the real you. And it can change at your will. Events in your outside life, may effect shadows or lights that make your inside self or ego, go in different directions, if you wish, than before. How you behave, your id, will change if you want it so, according to what your ego tells it to do or  react. We are not something solid and unyielding unless we decide that's what we want. Blaming one's history for the good and the bad we do, is invalid. To say that it's the fault of one experience or another for making us what we are is pointless. You are in control, not your history.  A bad past, only stays that way if you let it. No one is at fault for making you what you are. You make what you are. The finger of fate points directly at each one of us. The past can make it challenging to dig out the real you that you want to be, but it can't be depended upon to do it for you. So why do we ask the question, who am I? Those who meditate, not that it takes a formal cross-legged position and cooing out loud to do it,  come closer to finding themselves in all the detritus life throws our way. As you pick and pluck amongst your memories and recollections, there is the real you to be found. If you do find what you are and work at being a new you. let it be kind and good and generous. Let it be  positive,a  giving soul. Let it give you peace and pleasure, pride in knowing it. Then shine.

Silly Siblings

Nothing is worse than sibling rivalry. It eats particularly into the individual that feels itself inferior to a brother or sister. This sort assumes it has failed to come up to its sibling and thus creates sets of standards to try and outdo the other, seemingly more successful, member of its family. Examples are legion. Cain and Able settled it with murder, The prodigal son went off and when he came back caused quite an uproar. There are better, though less dramatic, scenarios of sibling rivalry all around us. When one sibling member of a family  achieves through  effort and good luck, a life that is sterling, and the sibling does not, the situation can become bitter. Usually the one who considers him or herself not as good as the other, carries a burden all of its life. An example of such a thing could be that a sister or brother excels in school, and goes on to become a professional. The other sibling is not a student and thus fails to continue in school. He can't get as good a job and is financially restricted. He goes on downhill to marry and it turns out to be a bad match and that also makes him feel inferior. His brother has a happy marriage. This further rankles the sad sibling. The second sibling, watches his successful brother all through life, and desperately tries to match what he does  to try and outdo him in some way.   He is, of course obsessive, and is using the wrong measuring stick. It is obvious to you and me, but not to him. It is a sad state to be in. When the two brothers get together, there is an unspoken undercurrent of  bitterness on the one side while the achieving member has no awareness at all of what's going on. Eventually, the rivalry rears its ugly head and  the jealous brother explodes into revealing his problematic lack of success in his own eyes and interestingly often says "Brother, I don't want you in my life any more". The truth is that he can no longer come anywhere near overcoming what he considers his odds to beat his brother, therefore, he opts out of the rivalry that he, himself, has set up. His brother is astounded by the reaction having no idea what has been going on. In other words, the competitive one gives up trying constantly to be better than his brother and decides to go-it-alone. Finally and rightly,  he realizes that each life has its own path and his is not the same as his brother's whom he has been trying to keep up with all his life.  Unfortunately, however, often the brotherhood is broken and will likely never again be the same.

The Kill: Hunting?

I used to apologize for loathing hunting. Not any more. In the first place, the word "hunting" is a misnomer. If hunting was all that happened, it would be wonderful. Hunt the animal, take a photo of it and go. You've got your proof that you were there. The real word for "hunting" should be "killing" or blood lust: the thrill of the kill. What individual with a brain loves to kill things? I don't want to go on about cute little Bambis but it is simply, and clearly, wrong for a human creature to kill and call it "sport". Sport? What is sporting about aiming a high-powered gun at a wild animal who knows nothing about such stupidity, and pulling the trigger to kill it? Try as I might, I cannot see the logic. The only time it makes any sense at all, is if the killer (not hunter) cannot get meat in any other way and is starving. In the second place, there is absolutely no reason to kill a wild animal when meat stores where you can get your protein to fill the need for it, exist, or are available, anywhere in the world. And don't tell me about the far north. I've been up to the Arctic Ocean and there are stores within easy reach there that sell the stuff. The excuse that a rich industry will shut down if the blood boors can't "bag" something is pure childish, self-indulgent nonsense. This "industry" needs to end. It feeds greed. The sick freaks who pack up their camouflage gear and shell out thousands just to go shoot something that is fine and regal and innocent and unarmed, I might add, are those who just want to brag. What do they brag about? If you shoot an animal, especially one that is penned as is being done now, what is there to brag about? It is exactly like shooting a fish in a barrel. A small barrel and a big fish. Does this sort of nitwit think anyone is fooled into thinking that the  killer tromped through the jungle or forest, single-handedly searching in desperation for something to eat? These guys and perhaps some gals, fly in with a bevy of flunkies to carry their junk to take the "brave" hunters directly to the game (interesting term for animals) and  give them instructions on how to kill them. On most of these "hunts" the guide practically shoots the poor animal himself. I hear that in Canada, it makes, for the industry, over 45 million dollars a year. Tourists from outside the land, blast off protected, innocent wild animals including polar bears. And it isn't for food! Incidentally, there aren't many more than 25,000 polar bears left here but still they are sold off for the kill.  What kind of so-called "man" / human, does this kind of thing just for a brag that likely bores his or her guests to death? Grizzly bears are another brag-worthy target for the blood thirsty. When I had to listen to someone telling a group of the gathered about his experience killing a grizzly, it sickened me and all my respect for this formerly regarded nice-guy, disappeared.  As we move our domains further into wild animal territory and campers and smokers cause forest fires, we add to the mess by renting out animals for foreigners to kill. And it's all for money. Some excuse that is. Industry? Hey guys, move into earning something that doesn't embarrass responsible world citizens.

The Show-off

There's one in every family or group. They're the ones that appear nicer, prettier and brighter than everyone else. It is a ruse. If you peeled away their layers of ego, you might find the real person hidden inside, but that is unlikely. This sort, spends a lifetime covering up their imagined and real short-comings with a thick coat of  opaque material that defies scrutiny.  While the rest of us live life with our warts hanging out, these people spend every moment massaging their hype. We all know it's fake but, in truth, we kind of enjoy falling for the fakery. The individual I am thinking of, and we all have a secret example, spends hours of festooning and grooming. Every moment is attention to appearance. If it looks good, they know, it is good. If we could but see into their boudoirs, there they would be, turning and posing in front of their mirrors. They would be practicing their roles as they see them. Their ambitions are not taken lightly. And while there may be not a whit of substance in it, they mold what it should be, and wear it all grandly. But not without effort put to rehearsal.  The planning of the wardrobe and the hair and the make-up, are their first concern.  They are actors on the stage of real life. Their hardest task in making themselves appear to be the best of the best, is their "goodness". While they do nothing to earn it, they are very good at appearing generous and kind and helpful. They talk it up. The one I am thinking of, is diligent in social situations, hugging and cooing and flattering all those they hope will be influential in their goal seeking. And it pays off. They're the ones who get the best jobs, the highest salaries: given equal opportunity. They are the valedictorians, the queens of the May, the ones voted to succeed.  It's a fact. Look it up. The most attractive get the best opportunities. Whether or not they can carry them off, seems not to matter. They are so good at their self-seekings, that they easily convince their minions to do the tasks for them. They get the credit of course. Their underlings bask in the light of their "superiors'" glories. At a party, who is the centre of attention? Not the wisest, nor the one who works the hardest. Nay; it's the one who touts it, the one that shines with achievements that are paste not diamond. But that's the way it works. You do not find royalty that is unattractive, no matter if they are or not. There is no politician that isn't groomed to look like royalty. The smile is fixed and dead white, the hair is enhanced, the clothing, expensive and immaculate, the words, polished. And it seems to work. Who wants the hard working, ordinary good-guy-next-door for a leader? We want "the prince". Or the "princess". Then again, we have to remember Marie Antoinette and her King. Heads will roll eventually, even the most beautiful ones!