The Gym

I sit here in my recliner pondering whether to go to the gym tonight or to put it off till tomorrow afternoon.  My body is tired.  Even my brain feels tired.  It is not too tired, though, to make up all kinds of reasons why tomorrow would be better:

• Tomorrow I will have more energy and will be able to work out harder.
• Sometimes a person needs to be gentle with himself.
• If I stay home I can get more writing done.
• My back is a bit sore and it perhaps needs a longer rest till my next workout.
• I feel short of sleep and a nap can be very healthy indeed.
• My body is telling me that it needs to rest, and a wise person will listen to his body.

One of the most fascinating things about working out is that is brings an awareness of the mind/body connection, and sometimes the mind/body lack of connection.  The gym is not simply about the body.  It is about the mind.  Indeed, it is more mental than physical.

In yoga there is the practice of building one's will power.  You can find some tips here.

My muscles are already feeling stronger than a month ago.  It is now time to go to the gym to strengthen my will power as well.

I just love being a jock! :)

Maturity and Visiting the Doctor

I will be 65 this July, and because of this I am trying very hard to be mature, but I must confess that I suspect I am failing because, as far as I am concerned, there is just too much silly fun to be had in life.  For example . . . this week I found a wonderful way to take twenty pounds off my weight at the doctor's office.

All you need is a cane.  I have a back and hip problem and so often will use a cane when out and about.  My cane is called Eileen, because I lean on her.  This week I was leaning on her when the nurse took my weight.

I decided to steady myself on the scales using Eileen.  Not only was I steady but I was much lighter as well.  I chuckled as the nurse told me my wonderfully new and lighter weight.  I am assuming that she was having a bad day, because she never noticed my cane pushing down on the floor, talking a load of the weight off the scales. Perhaps, though, she assumed that a patient in his senior years would not purposely distort a clinical measurement.

Then I felt sort of bad and I confessed.  I did not fully confess.  I did not admit that I put the cane on the floor as a joke.  All I said was that I noticed my cane was pressing against the floor and was probably messing up the reading.  She re-weighed me and my miraculous weight loss disappeared instantly.

For next time I am thinking of holding my breath when she measures my oxygen level. . .  but I will try to resist doing that.  After all, I am working on being mature.  Sort of like an aged cheese, I suppose.

Mommy Chipmunk

I saw Mommy Chipmunk today! I want to proclaim this news alongside the “big” news we read about everyday. Big news is the kind of news that the BBC or CNN puts up on their websites. And much of what they publish is very big indeed, for it affects millions of people. There are wars and potential wars. There is economic news. There are natural catastrophes. And don’t forget politics. As frustrating as it might be to read about the antics (yes, antics) of politicians, their actions can affect the lives of very many people. Included in the big news are stories that may not affect many people but still are of interest to them. Sports news is like this, I suppose. So too, the antics (yes, antics again) of celebrities seem to make the big news, though it is sad, I think, that the doings of strange and often spoiled people get published.

Here is a plug for something different — for small news — news that most likely will never be reported. Some news is of interest to only a few people, perhaps a family, perhaps only one person. And individual people — you, me, all other people — have their own news, small news. It might not make the networks, but it is still news, important to those it affects.

“Dog dies. Family mourns.” “Woman diagnosed with breast cancer. Woman is terrified.” “Car breaks down. Man on low income can no longer make it to work. Family devastated.” There is good news too. “Family gets new puppy.” “Biopsy proves negative.” “Jobless man hired.” And, one of my favorites: “Baby born.” All big news, to a few people.

There is even smaller news, news that is perhaps almost trivial, but which still affects people. “Water pipe breaks.” “Cell phone lost.” Trivial? Only if it is someone else’s life. “Man finally gets lawn mowed.” Ok. Very trivial. But, a good feeling, very good. For him. Also for his neighbors.

I want to add another category: beautiful small news. There are things that happen to people everyday that may not affect their outward lives, but affect their spirits, and do so in beautiful ways. “Man sees rainbow.” “Woman sees bird bathing in bird bath.” “Couple out walking see deer walking through neighborhood.” Such things are not big news. It is not right, though, to call them trivial, for these are beautiful events! Nature is filled with beauty, awesome beauty springing forth within a world of wonder.

Which brings me to Mommy Chipmunk. The wonderful thing about a blog is that a person can publish news that is perhaps important only to himself . This might not be important to you. But it is to me. Nevertheless, you may still like it, because it is, I think, beautiful.

There is a hole in our back lawn. It goes under the root of a tree that was cut down some years ago. I love that hole because as I look out the kitchen window I see little chipmunks running out of it and getting some of the seed that has fallen from the bird feeder. Some little chipmunks even make it up to the birdfeeder itself. And when a squirrel happens by and chases them away from what he thinks is his food, they move so fast —darting back to their hole.

Today, for the first time in a long while, I saw Mommy Chipmunk. She is about twice as large as her chiplets (I think that is a good word for small chipmunks). She was sitting in the middle of the lawn, but within running distance of the hole. She scratched herself. She looked around. She scratched herself again. She wasn’t even going for the birdseed. Perhaps she was just feeling relieved, relieved that her chiplets were alive and well. It doesn’t even matter that that she most certainly was not thinking that. I doubt chipmunks think much at all. It doesn’t matter because Mommy Chipmunk is a beautiful little animal. Her chiplets are beautiful little animals. And this beauty cheered me immensely as I looked out the window.

That is my news for today.

Thank you so much, Lord, for the beauty of this world.

http://youtu.be/V2RbFVRRtqI

Bless Their Hearts! :)

I got something in the mail today that made me chuckle and wince and feel a tad irritated all at the same time.  I got mail from the Republican National Committee.  I had been a card-carrying member until a few years ago.  Then I got tired of continual fundraising letters that suggested that if I did not send in extra money immediately, then the Democrats (gasp) would win an extra seat in the House and the nation would suffer terrible things.  It is one thing to have political views and leanings, and I do lean towards the right.  However, it is quite another to think in exaggerated terms of black and white, and of evil and good, with nothing in between.

My guess is that much of this rhetoric came from the fundraisers.  I have run into this before.  While living in Ohio a man representing the Fraternal Order of Police phoned me and was so pushy in his attempts to get me to contribute that I resolved never to give to that organization again.  It was a shame, because I felt that even if I wanted to give (and basically I think the police need far more support from the public than they get), to contribute at that point would encourage this practice of ugly and pushy fundraising.

Back to today's whopper.  Take a gander at this!!!!

Past due?  Past due???????????  If you really want to alienate your donor base, then go ahead and suggest that they are late in paying their bills.  This is not a bill.  It is not a debt or an obligation.  It is, or might have been, a donation.  But this donation will not be donated, certainly not while the organization is wasting its money on incompetent fund raisers.

It is sad, really.  If people talk to me intelligently, I, like most people, I imagine, will listen and consider their request.  But use exaggerated rhetoric, or use insulting words on the envelope, and I will turn my attention elsewhere.

I have no idea whether this particular envelope contained exaggerated rhetoric.  It probably did, but I will never know because this envelope is now in my trash.

Grow up, fundraisers!

The Divine Lullaby

We know that the Word of God is living.  It is not just a book written down and left by the Lord for us to read by ourselves.  He is with us as we read, helping us notice things, and giving us the light and love to see the most wonderful things within those holy pages.  This is why the Word never grows old.  We can, if we open our minds and hearts and bow our heads, learn new things every time we read, seeing things we never saw  before.

I have read the 42nd Psalm countless times, but today, in reading it once more, a small phrase jumped out.  "In the night His song shall be with me" (Ps. 42:8).  It seemed at first to be saying that during the night the Lord sings to you.

Admittedly, the wording is ambiguous.  Perhaps David is the one singing, singing to the Lord "His" song.  This may well be the case, given that the verses continues, "and my prayer unto the God of my life."  If we reflect, though, we realize that even if David is the one singing, he really is not singing alone.

As we read the Word, the Lord is with us in that reading, helping us see and understand.  As we pray, He is with us in the thoughts and feelings behind our words, helping us to know what to say.  And when we sing?  Surely He is with us in our singing, and rejoicing in His being present with us.

Perhaps, the next time you have trouble sleeping, your mind filled with all kinds of useless worries, you can focus on His song, the song of our Father and Savior, the song of the Lord who will never leave us.

Seems like I am still going to have to wear something to protect that foot joint.  I am being sent to get myself a crow boot that will continue to provide support, more comfortably than the current boot does.  I am supposed to wear it most of the time.   Looks kind of forbidding to me.  Here is a pic I pulled offline.  And what a name!!!  Oh well, at least I have my foot.

Trip

And now, with all those old posts transferred over to this blog, it is back to the present!

Trip is the name I have given to my orthopedic boot.  I have worn Trip now for just under six weeks.  Tomorrow, if all goes well with the xray at the podiatrist's office, and the joint in my foot has healed, Trip and I will part ways.  And my life will get easier.