Thank you...for another day of life, something that thousands who were here yesterday are no longer here to appreciate. For I know that this day represents more time. More time to become the person that I am capable of being, to take another step towards fulfilling my purpose, to come closer to reaching my goals, to express love and appreciation to those who are important in my life, and to perhaps invite new ones to enter it. And it means more time to experience, learn, understand, and grow.
Thank you...for those that I have loved, and have been loved by, both in the past and in the present. Thank you for my child, who represents the love I have to offer, and a version of me that the world has yet to see, while making her own unique and special mark on this world.
Thank you, for those who have come before me. The ones who thought out of the box, who dared to risk, who dared to be great, who dared to be the first, who dared to question what could and couldn't be done, who dared to say "Why not?" The ones who lived the life they loved and loved the life they lived. For it is as Isaac Newton once wrote, "If I have seen a little further, it is by standing on the shoulders of Giants." And thank you, for instilling in me that inherent desire to always walk my own path, regardless of the opinions of others. And thank you for granting me the perspective to see, that with mistakes and accomplishments alike, that was really the only way for me to go. And thank you, for the understanding, that the voice that speaks loudest in my head, and is the most critical to listen to, is my own.
Thank you...for the privilege of being born in this country. For while it is far from perfect, it still offers opportunities and freedoms which have thus far, escaped some of the other areas of the globe. Opportunities and freedoms which many of us here take for granted, sometimes feeling that we are "owed' something, and forgetting that with freedom comes responsibility. I will not make those mistakes. Thank you... because unlike some, I didn't have to work my way here, win a lottery for the opportunity to be here, or risk my life to get here. I was simply born...And who I was born to, and where they were living at the time of my birth, was not an accomplishment on my part, or anything that I had any control over. I will not forget to appreciate that fact.
Thank you...for my health, for the clothes on my back, for the roof over my head, and for the food in my belly. Having these things gives me less to worry about, so that I may further concentrate on my goals and purpose. I will not forget the fact that not everybody can say that. Even if these things are not in the perfect condition that I would like, I will not forget that things can always be worse. I will not forget the Persian proverb that say, "I cried because I had not shoes, until I saw the man that had no feet." And I will not forget that while in this country, we often fret about the decision as to what we shall choose to eat for our next meal, while in some other places, some people fret as to whether they will have a next meal at all. And for some, even when they can expect a next meal, a "choice" as to what it might be is something that they cannot comprehend.
And while I am grateful for what I have, I am also thankful for the knowledge, that it's perfectly alright for me to want more, providing that those things are in harmony with my purpose, and that the the pursuit of those things will not inhibit me from increasing the quality of person that I am. We are all goal-striving beings, and we are made to stretch the limits of our potential, and it is in harmony with our purpose to do so. Jim Rohn recognized this, and wrote in his book "The Five major life pieces of the life puzzle", "The ultimate reason for setting goals is to entice you to become the person it takes to achieve them." And I am grateful that I have come to understand this fact of life.
And I am grateful that I've learned, that the more that I appreciate what I already have, the more likely that I am to gain those other things which I desire. For when we feel good, we're more likely to attract good things. Feeling good increases our enthusiasm, and when we approach life with enthusiasm, we create a vibe that affects the things and people around us in a positive way. We have all encountered a person with a magnetic personality, and we get the impression that life denies this person of nothing. That's because it doesn't. "Magnetic" is a very accurate way to describe this kind of person, because he (or she) truly does attract to himself the things he desires in life. For life is bargaining. We all want things in life, and we must all exchange something in return for the things that we want. We don't get something for nothing in this life. Nothing worth having comes easy, and few things that come easy are worth having. The loftier our goal, the higher the price we must pay to attain it. And just as we all, when bargaining for something we want, are more likely to turn our money over to a person with a smile on his face, someone who is enthusiastic and magnetic, so life, is more likely to turn over it's rewards to those who are enthusiastic in their efforts, and show appreciation in their life, and for all it has to offer. I am grateful for having learned this critical lesson.
And I will never cease to discover and reflect on all that I have to be thankful and grateful for. I will be thankful for the Sun that smiles down on me, for I know that rich or poor, big or small, young or old, meek or bold, the Sun smiles on us all. And likewise, I will give thanks for the rain that cleans and refreshes me, and the earth as well. I will give thanks for the birds that sing, and my ability to hear their song. I will give thanks for the people that add to my life, and the ability and opportunity to add to theirs, for the sounds of the ocean waves, the laughter of a child, the dog that greets me with a wag of its tail, the trees that bring serenity to my soul, the wind that brushes my face, the immense variety of both people and experiences that exist in this world, random acts of kindness, the smiles that others share with me, and the inspiration of the human spirit. And I will be thankful for the endless possibilities of things to be grateful for. I have so much to be thankful for, it's just a matter of whether or not I will recognize these things today. And my gratitude and appreciation for the things of today, will provide more for which to be grateful for tomorrow.
Showing posts with label Appreciation. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Appreciation. Show all posts
Saturday, April 14, 2012
The Scent of a Woman
Men and Women...Boys and Girls...The battle of the sexes...The birds and the bees. Sometimes it's very hard to imagine, how men spend so much of their time and energy, in doing things to attract women. I mean practically everything that we do either obviously, or unconsciously, done with the aim of attracting women. How we dress (well, some of us), what we drive, the words that we say, when we exercise to build our bodies, how much money we strive to earn, are done either solely, primarily, or partly with the aim of impressing and attracting women. I'm sure that some women would contend that the behavior of many men seems as if they're determined to repel women, but the fact of the matter is, they still find a way of making their way around to each other, regardless of how exasperated some women seem to be with men. "You can't live with them, and you can't live without them" seems to work both ways.
And when I say that it's hard to imagine why men do so much to attract women, I don't mean that women aren't worth it. I'd venture to say that there's some that are worth all that you can think of doing for them, and then some. A few in fact, are worth you getting the greatest minds on the planet together in the same room, plus George Clooney and Sean Connery, and pulling an all-nighter brainstorming, to come up with more ideas on how to treat them as they deserve to be treated, and what we can do to win their attention and hearts.
What I mean is, if we look back at how males interact with girls during their early youth, it's no wonder that accusing an 8 year old boy of having a girlfriend is likely to have you wind up with a bag of flaming crap on your doorstep. And yet that same reaction would seem rather odd coming from a 30 year old straight male. I mean, who could imagine that the 8 year old boy who puts lizards on the backs of girls, or place gum in her hair, and who pushes her down after belittling her, would grow up to pursue them with such fervor? Unfortunately, there are the Chris Browns of the world, and unfortunately, even worse, who still engage in such behavior as adults, but for the most part, guys try to give up such behavior before reaching adulthood.
As a young boy, I certainly had my share of "crushes" on the fairer sex. Well, to be more accurate, I was a bit of a "serial admirer", seemingly having a crush on a different girl or teacher every few weeks. For the most part, I just admired from afar, being too shy at the time to do anything about it, or else I probably would've had to live down the reputation of being a 7 year old male whore. Of course, being a comic book fan, I probably would've excused the Scarlet "A" on my forehead as my personal tribute to Captain America, but as it turned out, I had no "game", so it was quite unnecessary. If by some miracle, graffitti had appeared on the walls of the girls' bathroom saying "For a good time, call Freddie", it undoubtedly would've been followed by, "He has Legos! :) " So while I didn't engage in any misguided rude treatment of girls as an inept way of expressing affection for them, I still had my share of incidents that would cast doubts on a future as a schoolyard Romeo.
One of these incidents occurred when I was in the first grade, and it was during recess time on the playground. Now normally, my recess time consisted of either seeing how far I could kick the ball over the fend during a game of "kickball", or getting into a fight and seeing if I could kick someone's testicles over that same fence. But on this particular day, my thoughts were more concerned with being a lover rather than a fighter. I was standing on top of a metal platform that was about 10 feet off of the ground, and you would access it by climbing a ladder. Once on the platform, you could either hang around up there, or go down a slide, or slide down a metal pole, much like a fireman or a girl trying to work her way through college at the local Spearmint Rhino club. Being a spirited child, I think that I had been helping a couple of my peers disembark from the platform via the express route, without the use of the slide or the pole, and with their voices trailing off with the words, "I'll get you for thisssssss..." But suddenly, my focus shifted. Walking onto the sandy area where the platform was located was this cute little Cuban-American girl, named Arlene.
Arlene was adorable, with these cute little earrings, and her mother would always dress her in these cute little dresses. To me, she just stood out from all of the other girls, enough to make me just "freeze" where I was, forgetting all else. I was transfixed. She appeared as is she was walking in slow motion, although not in the "Baywatch" kind of slow motion, because she was only 6 for Pete's sake, but in a living dream sort of way. It seemed as if the world around me ceased to exist, and I wondered if that feeling would last forever, when...it hit me. No, it wasn't an errant playground ball that hit me, or a peer exacting his revenge on me...It was the horrible, rank stench of very strong, cheap perfume. Apparently, Arlene's mother doused her in it. If before that moment I had been hearing the sound of Angels singing, the stench of that strong perfume hitting my nose was like someone kicking the record player and causing the needle to slide across the album playing that heavenly music. That stench seemed as if it were everywhere, both around me, and seemingly inside me. It was as if it took form, and was an entity trying to cause me physical harm. It was very reminiscent of that scene from the movie "Ghost", where those Demons carry off that bad guy at the end, or worse, the scene where Demi Moore had to kiss Whoopi Goldberg.
I became extremely nauseated, and my whole body seemed to lock up. And what was worse, Arlene kept walking closer. I started retching, and at the same time, Arlene looked up at me, and we made eye contact. And just as she flashed a very cute smile at me, I shot out a stream of vomit, a little of which managed to splatter on her shoes. I think after that incident, I was the only 6 year old that Vegas was already taking odds on the he'd never father any children. After all, that wasn't exactly a Rico Suave move on my part. Yet, it didn't discourage my fascination with the opposite sex. Sometimes this would involve crushes on girls in my class, or sometimes my thoughts ran along the lines of how I could get rid of my 3rd grade teacher's husband, taking his place at the breakfast table, sitting in my tightie whities while my teacher served me scrambled eggs while looking ravishing in her nightgown.
A few years down the road, when I wasn't being isolated from the rest of the classroom due to my delinquent behavior, I'd find myself more often than not, sitting where the girls sat during class. Some of my male friends would look at me curiously, wondering why I wasn't "chilling" with the guys, but I knew what I was doing. I already discovered that there would be plenty of time to hang with the fellas, but that spending time with the opposite sex certainly had its advantages. Oh sure, there were the obvious ones, being that they were much more pleasant to look at, coming with accessories that us guys just didn't have. But more than that, I just enjoyed their company, even as friends. For one thing, they often offered a wider range of subjects to discuss than most guys did. For someone like me, who always enjoyed conversation, it was very refreshing. And in some ways, I'd have to agree with the statement that girls mature faster than boys. And as I was always mature for my age, that was appealing as well.
And over the years, my confidence and proficiency in interacting with women would grow tremendously, as would my understanding and appreciation of them. A good woman is not only a great complement for a man, but a tremendous asset as well. And in spite of the fact that to one degree or another, we thing that they're all crazy, we men still need them. Very much. Sure we've come a long way since we first discovered fire, with the ability to launch man into outer space for extended periods of time, the discovery of cures for illnesses that would previously kill mass quantities of people, and the ability to create great works of art, whether they are in words, pictures, or music. But many of us are still inept at the art of communication, finding a tie to match our shirts, and we are still producing fine examples of our gender such as the male from "Jersey Shore". Not to mention the fact, that we see fire not only as a way to cook our food and keep us warm so that we may stay alive, but also as a tool to light our farts.
And it's very possible that all of our testosterone, as well as our lack of proficiency in positive communication and conflict resolution (again, only generally speaking) are at the forefront of the reasons why the vast majority of violent acts committed by men. If we men took a cue from women, there would be a lot less bloodshed. A man is a lot less likely to pull out a gun on another man, if instead of getting kicked in the crotch, he merely has his shoes criticized, or is told that his pants make his ass look fat.
Suffice it to say, I love women. And good women give us so many good reasons to feel that way. And I definitely count as part of my evolution, both as a man and a human being, the understanding of that fact. And while I may not know my wines, or be able to identify most styles of art, I consider myself a bit of a connisseur, having a keen eye for woman with fine qualities. I deserve nothing less, and thank goodness, I know they're out there. And even though the company of an appealing female can still be exhilarating and intoxicating, just as it was when I was a kid, I've grown in my appreciation of them, and in how to express that apprecation. So if I ever have the pleasure of your company, don't worry, you can leave the extra pair of clean shoes at home.
And when I say that it's hard to imagine why men do so much to attract women, I don't mean that women aren't worth it. I'd venture to say that there's some that are worth all that you can think of doing for them, and then some. A few in fact, are worth you getting the greatest minds on the planet together in the same room, plus George Clooney and Sean Connery, and pulling an all-nighter brainstorming, to come up with more ideas on how to treat them as they deserve to be treated, and what we can do to win their attention and hearts.
What I mean is, if we look back at how males interact with girls during their early youth, it's no wonder that accusing an 8 year old boy of having a girlfriend is likely to have you wind up with a bag of flaming crap on your doorstep. And yet that same reaction would seem rather odd coming from a 30 year old straight male. I mean, who could imagine that the 8 year old boy who puts lizards on the backs of girls, or place gum in her hair, and who pushes her down after belittling her, would grow up to pursue them with such fervor? Unfortunately, there are the Chris Browns of the world, and unfortunately, even worse, who still engage in such behavior as adults, but for the most part, guys try to give up such behavior before reaching adulthood.
As a young boy, I certainly had my share of "crushes" on the fairer sex. Well, to be more accurate, I was a bit of a "serial admirer", seemingly having a crush on a different girl or teacher every few weeks. For the most part, I just admired from afar, being too shy at the time to do anything about it, or else I probably would've had to live down the reputation of being a 7 year old male whore. Of course, being a comic book fan, I probably would've excused the Scarlet "A" on my forehead as my personal tribute to Captain America, but as it turned out, I had no "game", so it was quite unnecessary. If by some miracle, graffitti had appeared on the walls of the girls' bathroom saying "For a good time, call Freddie", it undoubtedly would've been followed by, "He has Legos! :) " So while I didn't engage in any misguided rude treatment of girls as an inept way of expressing affection for them, I still had my share of incidents that would cast doubts on a future as a schoolyard Romeo.
One of these incidents occurred when I was in the first grade, and it was during recess time on the playground. Now normally, my recess time consisted of either seeing how far I could kick the ball over the fend during a game of "kickball", or getting into a fight and seeing if I could kick someone's testicles over that same fence. But on this particular day, my thoughts were more concerned with being a lover rather than a fighter. I was standing on top of a metal platform that was about 10 feet off of the ground, and you would access it by climbing a ladder. Once on the platform, you could either hang around up there, or go down a slide, or slide down a metal pole, much like a fireman or a girl trying to work her way through college at the local Spearmint Rhino club. Being a spirited child, I think that I had been helping a couple of my peers disembark from the platform via the express route, without the use of the slide or the pole, and with their voices trailing off with the words, "I'll get you for thisssssss..." But suddenly, my focus shifted. Walking onto the sandy area where the platform was located was this cute little Cuban-American girl, named Arlene.
Arlene was adorable, with these cute little earrings, and her mother would always dress her in these cute little dresses. To me, she just stood out from all of the other girls, enough to make me just "freeze" where I was, forgetting all else. I was transfixed. She appeared as is she was walking in slow motion, although not in the "Baywatch" kind of slow motion, because she was only 6 for Pete's sake, but in a living dream sort of way. It seemed as if the world around me ceased to exist, and I wondered if that feeling would last forever, when...it hit me. No, it wasn't an errant playground ball that hit me, or a peer exacting his revenge on me...It was the horrible, rank stench of very strong, cheap perfume. Apparently, Arlene's mother doused her in it. If before that moment I had been hearing the sound of Angels singing, the stench of that strong perfume hitting my nose was like someone kicking the record player and causing the needle to slide across the album playing that heavenly music. That stench seemed as if it were everywhere, both around me, and seemingly inside me. It was as if it took form, and was an entity trying to cause me physical harm. It was very reminiscent of that scene from the movie "Ghost", where those Demons carry off that bad guy at the end, or worse, the scene where Demi Moore had to kiss Whoopi Goldberg.
I became extremely nauseated, and my whole body seemed to lock up. And what was worse, Arlene kept walking closer. I started retching, and at the same time, Arlene looked up at me, and we made eye contact. And just as she flashed a very cute smile at me, I shot out a stream of vomit, a little of which managed to splatter on her shoes. I think after that incident, I was the only 6 year old that Vegas was already taking odds on the he'd never father any children. After all, that wasn't exactly a Rico Suave move on my part. Yet, it didn't discourage my fascination with the opposite sex. Sometimes this would involve crushes on girls in my class, or sometimes my thoughts ran along the lines of how I could get rid of my 3rd grade teacher's husband, taking his place at the breakfast table, sitting in my tightie whities while my teacher served me scrambled eggs while looking ravishing in her nightgown.
A few years down the road, when I wasn't being isolated from the rest of the classroom due to my delinquent behavior, I'd find myself more often than not, sitting where the girls sat during class. Some of my male friends would look at me curiously, wondering why I wasn't "chilling" with the guys, but I knew what I was doing. I already discovered that there would be plenty of time to hang with the fellas, but that spending time with the opposite sex certainly had its advantages. Oh sure, there were the obvious ones, being that they were much more pleasant to look at, coming with accessories that us guys just didn't have. But more than that, I just enjoyed their company, even as friends. For one thing, they often offered a wider range of subjects to discuss than most guys did. For someone like me, who always enjoyed conversation, it was very refreshing. And in some ways, I'd have to agree with the statement that girls mature faster than boys. And as I was always mature for my age, that was appealing as well.
And over the years, my confidence and proficiency in interacting with women would grow tremendously, as would my understanding and appreciation of them. A good woman is not only a great complement for a man, but a tremendous asset as well. And in spite of the fact that to one degree or another, we thing that they're all crazy, we men still need them. Very much. Sure we've come a long way since we first discovered fire, with the ability to launch man into outer space for extended periods of time, the discovery of cures for illnesses that would previously kill mass quantities of people, and the ability to create great works of art, whether they are in words, pictures, or music. But many of us are still inept at the art of communication, finding a tie to match our shirts, and we are still producing fine examples of our gender such as the male from "Jersey Shore". Not to mention the fact, that we see fire not only as a way to cook our food and keep us warm so that we may stay alive, but also as a tool to light our farts.
And it's very possible that all of our testosterone, as well as our lack of proficiency in positive communication and conflict resolution (again, only generally speaking) are at the forefront of the reasons why the vast majority of violent acts committed by men. If we men took a cue from women, there would be a lot less bloodshed. A man is a lot less likely to pull out a gun on another man, if instead of getting kicked in the crotch, he merely has his shoes criticized, or is told that his pants make his ass look fat.
Suffice it to say, I love women. And good women give us so many good reasons to feel that way. And I definitely count as part of my evolution, both as a man and a human being, the understanding of that fact. And while I may not know my wines, or be able to identify most styles of art, I consider myself a bit of a connisseur, having a keen eye for woman with fine qualities. I deserve nothing less, and thank goodness, I know they're out there. And even though the company of an appealing female can still be exhilarating and intoxicating, just as it was when I was a kid, I've grown in my appreciation of them, and in how to express that apprecation. So if I ever have the pleasure of your company, don't worry, you can leave the extra pair of clean shoes at home.
Friday, March 23, 2012
Thank You...
...For being you...Because I know that you've done something today, that is worth taking the time to thank you for. And it may be something that was unique to this day, or it may be something that you do on a daily basis. And maybe people are accustomed to you doing what you do, and because they expect it, they sometimes forget to say "Thank You". So, Thank You. For being a good friend, a good brother or sister, a good parent, or a good Son or Daughter, or a good spouse or significant other, a good employee, for being a good person, or for all of the above...Thank You. If you've done something special for a stranger, even if it's giving them a smile or a kind word... Thank You. For trying to be the best person that you can be, even when others sometimes make that hard to do... for having the strength to rise and greet the day, even when it'd be much easier for your eyes to remain closed... Thank You. And for when you put others first, because their happiness equals yours...Thank You. Thank You for being born, Thank you for Being... You.
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