Desiderata - Latin for 'Desired Things"

I'm proud to be a Hoosier. (whatever that word means) Among many things, we're famous for our basketball, our tomatoes, and our love of the card game of Euchre. But I've never been more proud to be from Indiana than when I read the famous words below that were written by one of our own. Thank you, Max Ehrmann.

The Desiderata

Go placidly amid the noise and haste, and remember what peace there may be in silence.
As far as possible without surrender be on good terms with all persons.
Speak your truth quietly and clearly; and listen to others, even the dull and ignorant;
they too have their story.
Avoid loud and aggressive persons, they are vexations to the spirit.
If you compare yourself with others, you may become vain and bitter;
for always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself.

Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans.
Keep interested in your career, however humble; it is a real possession in the changing fortunes of time.
Exercise caution in your business affairs; for the world is full of trickery.
But let this not blind you to what virtue there is; many persons strive for high ideals;
and everywhere life is full of heroism.

Be yourself.
Especially, do not feign affection.
Neither be critical about love; for in the face of all aridity and disenchantment it is as perennial as the grass.

Take kindly the counsel of the years, gracefully surrendering the things of youth.
Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune. But do not distress yourself with imaginings.
Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness. Beyond a wholesome discipline, be gentle with yourself.

You are a child of the universe, no less than the trees and the stars;
you have a right to be here.
And whether or not it is clear to you, no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should.

Therefore be at peace with God, whatever you conceive Him to be,
and whatever your labors and aspirations, in the noisy confusion of life keep peace with your soul.
With all its sham, drudgery and broken dreams, it is still a beautiful world. Be careful. Strive to be happy.

© Max Ehrmann 1927

CAN you teach an old dog new tricks?

I'm in the process of taking a workshop - advice on relationships, healing old wounds, and being independent vs codependent. Heady topics that are painfully reminding me of how long it's been since I practiced the skill of taking notes.

A searing question is battling for my attention during the lectures. Can you teach an old dog new tricks? Actually, the correct syntax would be, "Can you teach new tricks to an old dog?" But old idioms are slow to change, perhaps just like us mature adults.

I grew up thinking the learning process was pretty much completed once you left high school. An occasional news story might contain a nugget of knowledge, but other than that, you didn't know what you didn't know, and you didn't know that either.

I once had the pleasure of giving my Dad a second-hand computer. I watched as he placed his arthritic fingers on a keyboard for the first time. He was awkward but receptive. However, during the days that followed he kept calling the mouse, 'the rat' and I realized with a little frustration that we had a long learning curve ahead of us. Unfortunately he didn't live long enough to complete the curve but I truly believe the old dog could have done it with a few more months of breathe in him.

Yahoo states, "Senior dogs are happy to learn, as long as they have a consistent teacher who hands out plenty of treats." I get that, even though this old dog has lost a few brain cells over the years. So, I'll finish my workshop with the hope that a few tricks will lodge in my brain somewhere between the lobes of "I don't know where I parked my car," and "I'm sorry but I can't quite remember your name."

Does this make me an old dog trying to learn new tricks? Woof. Where are my treats?

later...
Between the lines

Don't buy cheap dishes

Have you heard that God will never give you more than you can handle? Or a reference to how much is on one's plate?

Well, some of us need bigger plates than others. A friend of mine lost her father some months ago and then herself, was diagnosed with stage four cancer. Now her holidays were shattered with the news that her mother has stage four, terminal cancer.

Hello, God. Couldn't we like evenly distribute the bad stuff instead of overloading one family? Not that I wish poor health on others, but how much misfortune can one family take. If there's an annual quota on the diagnosis of this monster disease, couldn't we spread the misery around equivalently?

I am grateful. I have very little on my plate right now and I'm knocking on wood as I type that last line. My plates are inexpensive, though. Whomever's in charge of the big stuff, please keep this in mind should you decide to load me up from life's buffet.

May the new year be a healthier, happier one for the families who've gotten more than their piece of crap pie.

Between the lines,
See ya later.