Over the weekend the City Of Frisco’s Parks & Recreation Department through a huge Christmas celebration at Frisco Square. Their Main Street Christmas was attended by thousands of people and oh so many happy children. Santa was there, along with a few of his reindeer. There were more than a Few children’s choirs singing Christmas songs of every variety. There was even plenty of food, including some super sized corn dogs that I just had to try. The main event of the evening was the lighting of the Christmas Tree. It was a quick moment, but the crowd loved it and the tree is quite beautiful.
Let me wax poetic about life and how I think you can compare it to a house, or actually more aptly a home. Maybe I'm off by a million miles here, or maybe I've hit the nail on the head. Been awhile since I tried to wax poetic, so let's see how it turns out.
Every life is built like a house, needing a strong foundation, walls to protect us and places to hide that which we want secret. It's our home. Here's how I think we each do it.
A life's foundation is laid by those that reared us. The basement contains all that which came before our entry into the world. What our parents and teachers give us becomes the cement and timber that provides the flooring and structure to the house. The design of which is based on our early personality. Who we want to be, who we are and who we aren't.
The walls of our house are made of the many close people in our lives. They provide the protection from the world. Keep us dry and safe.
Each room of the house is made of our close relationships. Those that defined and continue to define us. At times those rooms change. Sometimes the look, sometimes the whole design.
The closets hold our deepest secrets. Usually found in the rooms of those we know best. At times though the secrets are hidden away in closet known to only us.
The attic is where we keep the dusty old memories we care no longer to regularly revisit. Memories that once defined us but are now unneeded.
At times our lives require the house to be expanded to make more room. At times our lives change and require the house to be completely remodeled, given the semblance of a new or fresh start. It's still the same home, the same foundation; we only get the one house.
Then one day we pass into the veil and the various parts of our life that are important to others get moved. Much will be discarded. Some will end up in our children's basements. A very little may end up adoring the walls or bookshelves of our children and our children’s children. Those memories they hold most dear. Those memories that make the family, a family.
Each home is different. Each home a life.
So, did I nail it, or am I totally out in an empty field?
I read a post on Facebook recently from someone I know. This post got me thinking. My thinking got me writing. It's in a very stream of conscious essay. Agree, disagree that is your choice. I'm sure it's not as eloquent as it should be; but it was typed on an iPhone in the middle of a store, so please grant me some lattitude.
a Fear of the "Others"
I've lived and visited more cities than I can count in a few countries across the globe. The differences I encountered were minimal and of no true consequence. They have been of different colors, different nationalities, different religions, different colors and different languages. True friendship and love were identical across them all. They all also shared another characteristic, fear of anything different, anyone that wasn't of "them;" save a few odd balls who thought of strangers as opportunity to learn and seek truth.
The "them" or "others" varied even in the same place. Humans want community and have an innate desire to mistrust those not of their community. So they see the "others" as different just to say they are different. The "others" worship a different god or worship in a different way. The "others" have skin that is darker or lighter. The "others" speak different or act different; and so on. In those differences the group finds an enemy or they associate the "others" with a real or imaginary enemy to justify their fear and their anger.
The only way to feel at home is to accept that which is around you and to seek only to change that which is wrong or unjust. To acknowledge the differences and maybe learn from them. To then accept a level of human trust of those around you until an individual loses that trust by act or lack of act of that single individual. At which time only that individual is to blame, those of like background remain innocent and there should be no guilt whether through association or heritage levied against them.
The world isn't a dangerous place. It's a fantastical place of mystery and adventure, of beauty and rebirth. The people of the world are not dangerous. It is fear in any form, deserved or not, that is dangerous.
Fear, it is a vile and ugly enemy turning angels into demons; potential friends into battling soldiers of a war they do not comprehend. Through that war they spread hatred, the 1st born child of fear.
FDR said it best, "the only thing we have to fear is fear itself."
What or whom do you fear? Ask yourself why.
The only shield from fear is knowledge, the only sword against hatred - learning.
Before meeting up with friends I stopped by my local Sushi restaraunt for a beer and some of their tasty sushi rolls. Naan isn't far from my place and it's pretty much on the way to wherever I'm headed. Add to that their evening special of half off my favorite sushi rolls and at times it's just to hard to walk by. Besides it's also kind of my neighborhood bar.
Many of us have had a pet or two in our lives. We keep them for many reasons. While at times I'm personally conflicted by the practice I also acknowledge that mankind has kept pets, especially canines, for many tens of thousands of years and over those many millenia a very special bond has grown. We take care and comfort them and they in turn return the favor with constant loyalty and faithful companionship. For me that special bond is with a certain Shiba-Inu (wiki link provided for those unfamiliar with the breed). She has been with me since 2001 and has been my very faithful companion.
I found her in the Dallas ASPCA shelter on the very day she was put up for adoption. She was only 8 weeks old. She had a brother that had been dropped off with her. From what I could tell the brother went him with an adorable little girl and I'm sure he had many a tea party and pre-teen sleepovers to keep him young at heart - if not a little tortured. Gracy though found me. This little Shiba bonded with me the moment we met, that or she just wanted out for fear that some little boy might nab her. Who knows what really goes through a dog's mind.
Not a day goes by that I regret my decision to bring her into my life. Not a day goes by that I'm not happy to see her wagging tail and excited nature when I open the door. She is just a dog, a pet, but she is family. As family she has adopted those I've brought into my life and made them her own, even if a little slowly at times.
She is no longer a puppy, but still full of life and curiosity. Her sprints don't last as long and she now prefers a casual sniffing tour to the rigorous pull my arm out of my socket walk. To be honest we could all learn a great deal from my little Gracy. Even though she is no "spring chicken" she still tackles life with zeal and excitement, if just a little slower than she did when just a pup.
She's not perfect, but neither am I. In any event she has remained loyal to me and I loyal to her. So to her and all the pets of the world that keep their human mates happy and soulful, THANK YOU!
This morning I felt like a little breakfast. Nothing quite like sausage. Made some scrambled eggs to go along with these delicious patties. To wash it all down, a chocolate latte. It's not a fancy breakfast, but it was definitely a tasty one. I'm sure I could do better and I know others could do better; but never-the-less it hit the spot.
This morning I saw this while walking my dog. No idea how it happened. The cop looked as confused as me.Read More
Tracy made me a very delicious German Chocolate cake for Father's Day this year. It's my favorite type of cake. My grandmother used to make one for me every year for my birthday growing up. Been a long time since someone made me one from scratch. Tracy did a great job.
Thank you honey!!!