Baby Bunny

   At first, I wasn't sure what it was and I thought it was dead.  Early this morning, not long after sunrise, I happened upon this very young rabbit while recovering my Thermos and fleece I'd left among some low dirt mounds, near the canal where I walk my dogs at sunrise and sunset.  On closer inspection, I realized it wasn't quite dead and that it wasn't a rodent, it was a younger, smaller version of the cottontail rabbits the dogs live to chase (but never catch) in the large empty field adjacent to the canal.
   I don't remember ever seeing such a young bunny.  He's just a tiny version of an adult rabbit, with fur and open eyes.  I removed him from the dirty depression where he lie motionless and cradled him in my hands, handing the other items to Jeannie.  When we got home, she found a shoe box and some soft cloth and made a bed for him.  We let him rest in this safe place away from drafts, temperature extremes and predators while we ate our breakfast.  Later, we tried feeding him some soy milk and some dandelion greens.  He made a little movement and a faint noise, but didn't seem to be interested in the milk.
   I don't know much at all about how to care for rabbits, but Jeannie did some research on the Internet.  Although he's so tiny, it's a good sign that he has fur and that his eyes are open.  We don't know what, if anything, happened to him before we found him.  Did he venture from the nest on his own and fall victim to exhaustion or another creature?  Was he defective and carried from the nest by his mother?  I don't expect him to survive and thrive, but I recently rescued a pigeon from my front yard who'd been stunned or wounded and could only flap a wing and spin in circles.  I didn't expect him to survive either, but the next morning he was better, and he flew away as I released him into the air.  I will do my best for this little rabbit and hope he makes it.
   Some people and animals do not live to be very old.  I don't know why.  I don't know how or why I've lived 54 years.  I don't know how much longer I'll continue to live, but I'm learning to live in each moment and accept it for what it is, not for what I wish it to be.  I'm learning to observe it without judging it as good or bad.
   Baby bunnies are really cute.

Humility, Humiliation, and 40 Years of Wandering in Another Desert

I'm full of hope.  It's taken 40 years, but I've come full circle.

At about age 14, I read the Sermon on the Mount in the book of Matthew, chapters five, six, and seven.  A gift, completely outside my frame of reference, was given me in my adolescence.  Awestruck, excited, I left my bedroom to find my mother in the kitchen preparing dinner.  I felt compelled to share this personal revelation of Jesus Christ as Messiah with the nearest human being, and she was it.  Any reaction short of backward handsprings would have seemed to me inappropriately indifferent to the good news I had to offer, and of course my mother, stirring a pan of something at the stove, merely remarked, "That's nice, honey."  Nice???!!!  That's nice???!!!  Tell me I'm wrong, tell me I'm crazy, but don't say "That's nice."

I'd had a spiritual experience, although I could not have known or described it as such at the time.  The words of the Sermon impressed me as Truth transcending human imagination and wisdom.  I had read and heard the spoken Word, and I'd never be the same, although I'd stumble on the worries of life and various deceitful diversions for the next 40 years, wandering aimlessly in a literal (Sonoran) and figurative (vanity) desert.

There's a world,  you know.  There's a way to go, and the road to the life described by Jesus' words is narrow, but open to all.  It is the way of humility.

At 54, I am a man of modest means and education, with many defects of character and twisted emotions.  I have no special talents, and have no significant accomplishments.  Those things neither confer nor withhold humility, they are only facts, data about my history.  I gain tiny fragments of humility through the painful and ego-smashing process of humiliation.  Humiliation hurts, but it does not kill.  In the end, it is not my opinion of myself nor the opinions of others about me that matters.  It is only the Truth that matters, and the Truth is that I was created in the image of God in order to do his bidding.  Each new day is an opportunity to live inside each moment, and by faith to practice willingness and an open mind.

Striving To Be Average

   It was worth every penny of whatever I spent, to travel thousands of miles to hear someone remark that one of the best pieces of advice they'd ever received was, "Strive to be average."  Incidentally, the advice was not unsolicited, as I believe the axiom that unsolicited advice is usually interpreted as criticism.
 
   Today I will strive to be average.  Not because I exclusively need to ascend or descend to average, but because, as my son, then 11 years old, once told someone who asked him to describe his dad, said, "My dad is like the fan switch in your car.  There may be five positions, but the only ones my dad uses are "off" and "high."

   I have to identify and accept the truth about myself, whatever that turns out to be.   I don't have to like what I see, I only have to accept it. The truth is, I travel back and forth, mentally and emotionally, between the extremes of grandiosity and self-loathing, rarely, if ever, pausing at the place of rest called average.  For me, average will be the highway to humility, the subject of my next blog.

 
 

I'm NOT Going to Teach You a Lesson

"It is a spiritual axiom that every time we are disturbed, no matter what the cause, there is something wrong with us. If somebody hurts us and we are sore, we are in the wrong also. But are there no exceptions to this rule? What about “justifiable” anger? If somebody cheats us, aren't we entitled to be mad? Can't we be properly angry with self righteous folk? For us... these are dangerous exceptions.  We have found that justified anger ought to be left to
those better qualified to handle it."

Anonymous, "12 Steps and 12 Traditions" (emphasis added)

   I'm angry about rising taxes today.  I want to start my own tax revolt.  I want to start a revolution, storm the political palaces, demand immediate reform and threaten violence... and then I remember...

"When we speak or act hastily or rashly, the ability to be fair-minded and tolerant
evaporates on the spot. One unkind tirade or one willful snap judgment can ruin our relation with another person for a whole day, or maybe a whole year. Nothing pays off like restraint of tongue and pen. We must avoid quick-tempered criticism and furious, power-driven argument. The same goes for sulking or silent scorn. These are emotional booby traps baited with pride and vengefulness. Our first job is to sidestep the traps. When we are tempted by the bait, we should train ourselves to step back and think." 

Anonymous, "12 Steps and 12 Traditions" 

   The need to sit on my hands and keep my mouth shut arises much more often than I'd like.  In fact, I don't like it at all.  I'd prefer to never practice restraint, and that's at least part of the reason I need to do just that.

   I have no lessons today to teach anyone, but I have a lot to learn.  I've got a lot of growing up to do, in part because I've chosen to avoid the things that might have helped me grow up in the past.  Things like hard work, pain, and yes, patience, tolerance, and kindness.

Don't Kid Yourself

I'm still here.

You're not following me, I'm following you.  I'm out here in cyberspace and I'm watching.  That's how I learn lessons from the fire.  That's how I evolve.

By the way, in my humble and amateur opinion, "evolution" is not a dirty word.  Nor is "sex."  I think those two things are somehow tied together, but I'm still thinking about that.

Brought to you by the guy who thought computers were a fad, sorta like hula hoops and Nehru collars and those little plastic yellow signs that dangled from the rear window of cars and read "Baby on Board."  Oh.  Okay.  I didn't know you had a baby, so now that I know, I'll completely change my driving habits...

On an unrelated note and several thousand years ago, a bunch of bipeds formed societies and decided killing someone else, anyone else, for any reason, is a bad idea.  Oh, some of the societies dabbled in it "for the good of the society," but most of them eventually dropped it completely.  Just seemed hard to justify... saying "don't do this" and then doing it.  Yes, I'm talking about capital punishment.  It's stupid.  Let's quit doing it.  I don't care if it's Vlad the Impaler, Adolf Hitler, or Bernie Madoff.  You don't kill sick people, and these are/were sick people.  Keep them away from everyone else and get on with being kind, patient, and tolerant.

Peace on earth, good will toward men.  Sounds better when Linus says it in the Charlie Brown Christmas movie.  But I still like it.