parable of freewill
The old arthritic dog sees the stick twirling through the air and instinctively gives a youthful chase.
His head high, ears up, tail wagging as he runs, smashing through the water, rolling in the mud, gnawing on his stick.
The middle age human watches his stick float away while describing his aches, pains, medicines, upcoming doctors visits.
Sharing stories of once chasing his stick while reclining into his eventual mortality.
Death is easy if you've lived. Living is hard if you focus on death.
Number 1: Change you underwear every day!
My advice for you as you're turning 18, assuming this also means adulthood.
2. Mistakes are good as long as you learn from them.
3. Get out of your comfort zones, take risk, push your limits, and fail.
4. Cash is freedom. All financial systems and culture promote bigger, more, better, and credit. Credit leads to debt and ties you down from exploring true happiness.
5. Time is the most valuable and finite resource you own, at least until you go into debt. Don't waste it.
6. Memories are made living experiences, not buying things. Spend your time and money on experiences to enrich your life story.
7. Don't label people. Labeling and demonizing people who don't think like you is a societal trap. Everyone has a story so stay open and learn their story. Their story is where the magic happens.
Go forth young man and help make our world better.
Happy birthday!
A Guide to Saying Goodbye to Your Mom
My mom passed away last year after a 10 plus year battle with Alzheimers. A side affect of this shitty disease is the victims often never know they have it. Weird as that sounds, my mom was one of those who couldn't remember she had the disease so we never talked about it. Whenever I'd ask her about how she was doing she would say, "fine, I'm fine, there is nothing wrong with me, but you know your uncle..."
We never openly discussed the progression of her illness, the obvious things like memory, continence, walking, taking, and eating. She eventually made her way to a memory care facility after home care got complicated. After she moved in she never acknowledged that her entire surroundings had changed, the bed she slept in, the people who cared for her, the Elvis impersonator who amused her. It was mind boggling to image, but true.
In the end though, the biggest tragedy of all this is that we never said goodbye to each other. Sure, the day she passed I told her I loved her, but we never shared a goodbye, a hug, a thank you for all she'd sacrificed for me. We never sat and talked about all the wonderful family memories that we created.
So, if I could have one chance, a do over, it would have been to find the time early on in her disease to talk about the fact that one day we won't be able to communicate and that day will be too late. So let's sit down and do it now, when we can share a hug and a cry together.
This is your guide to saying goodbye to your mom.
Life of Bob
He was a young man in his early 20's who was trying to figure out his life. He had been a somewhat typical high school underachiever who liked to party and have fun, but never showed interest in anything adult-like. College had been uninteresting to him and as a result he washed out early. Having no direction in life, he decided to take a job as a phlebotomist in a hospital to explore his interest in the world of medicine as he thought of himself as a caring soul, a person with compassion, so maybe by providing healthcare to the injured or sick might inspire him into an occupation.
From the start he knew the phlebotomist gig wasn't working. First, he had to wake up at 4:30AM it get to work which didn't fit his social life. Secondly, he wasn't good at sticking needles in peoples arms as we never performed well under pressure. And the pressure of having those he was sticking with a sharp metal instrument, watching and feeling, was too much for him to handle.
On one of his last days as an unsuccessful phlebotomist trainee, he was in a patients room accompanying his trainer who was, as usual, doing all the work. The patient was an older African American woman lying in bed with her white sheet and blanket pulled all the way to her chin and family spread all around the room. As his trainer prepared to draw blood, he, using his bedside mannerism that he was actually to this point feeling quite confident in, asked her, "mam, how are you doing today?"
She replied, "I'm okay but quite sick."
Seeing an opportunity to showcase his skills for his trainer, he asked, "Can I tell you a joke to cheer you up?"
She replied slowly, much like you'd expect a sick older person to reply, "sure."
He started his joke with,"What do you call a cow with no legs?"
She quietly replied, "Oh, I don't know."
His punchline was right on time, "ground beef."
The entire family, his trainer, the sick woman, all chuckled out loud sending waves of pride down his body. As the sound of chuckles quickly subsided, she said, "that is like me, you see, I just had my leg amputated."
Today, Bob Yelley is in his 50's and has a moderately unsuccessful career as an unknown professional humorist.
sleeping under the stars
Nights with no moon are the most quiet.
Dawn fades; planets, stars, satellites appear,
Darkness, contrast to constellations,
Silent, quiet, beautiful.
Nights with no moon are the most quiet.
Vast, limitless, unending space above,
Cicadas call, wind gently whisp,
Silent, quiet, beautiful.
Nights with no moon are the most quiet.
Rustling leaves breaks my trance,
Orions belt will protect,
Silent, quiet, beautiful.
Nights with no moon are the most quiet.
Oh, a shooting star!
Cool air blankets my exposed skin,
Silent, quiet, beautiful.
The Doorway to Growth
As a boy, I called the feeling known as fear, fun. A free spirited human moving without a care in the world, taking risk climbing, falling, speeding, speaking my mind, lustfully living, experimenting with all the boundaries of life. Somewhere along the way mortality and self doubt crept in introducing me to concepts like fear of pain, rejection, and even death, but mostly pain and rejection. With experience, I better understand the balance of fear. Certainly, I have limits, but have used the feeling of fear, the nervous buzz in my gut, the sweaty palms, the sleepless nights, as the doorway to something wonderful that lies on the other side. With dutiful calculation of the risk, I step through fears door. Once on the other side, a beauty within me appears, regardless of the outcome, a confidence badge for being courageous, for taking the risk when everything was telling me no. I find personal growth.
Fear Monster
Together for life, bonded by fear, this monster and me, we are always near.
His silent whispers, deep in my head, "failure, death and the worst, rejection, I fear."
With walls thick as boulders, standing firm on our doubts, we never challenge his thoughts as they might just work out.
The mountain too steep, the water too cold, the love was too much for this unworthy soul.
It’s better to stay silent, not play in the rain, the love will die too, confirming your pain.
Bigger walls are the answer, so pile on the bricks, listen to the monster, fear will certainly be the fix.
Stay tuned for the sequel to this ditty where I manage fear to grow and shine brighter than the sun!
A cup of life’s soup de jour: change
I woke feeling sad from all the heavy rain that was still falling. The plan had been an adventure, an excursion to circumnavigate an uninhabited barrier island by paddling the rivers, creeks, surf, ocean, to walk on the beach, spend the day outside with my lover, creating life memories, now seemingly washed away by the heavy wrath of storms.
Negative thoughts continued to fill my skull while driving to the boat landing as rain drops splatters on my windshield. Conversations in my mind circled of how this wasn't going to happen, would we get our money returned, surely the trip can't happen now based on this damn act of god. The rain did stop as we got the landing but heavy moist clouds kept the skies ominously grey.
Our guide was already there standing on the beach with boats staged for the trip, a young fella, ex-Army Ranger medic who cheerfully met us with the news that we’ll push on with the chance of rain hopefully lessoning for the four hour excursion. "Hopefully, pffsss" was my silent quick witted thought as I looked up at the skies. We shoved off the wet sandy beach at the end of Ally 3 with every negative emotional anchor still gripping my soul.
The river was calm, an eagle perched high among the island trees watched as we floated by, egrets fished the creek, pelicans and other sea birds flew low along the water while other birds hunted minnows in the shallow tidal pools. Our first miles were through a small narrow twisty creek, seeing other small islands over the walls of tall green marsh grass.
We reached the beach from behind the protected island, portaged the boats a short distance over sand before leaving to explore. We strolled along the waters edge, enjoying the quiet sounds of nature, the fresh undisturbed air, the scenery of marsh grasses atop sand dunes, hammocks of pines and palm trees sitting on the highest ground, the sound of waves breaking, and feeling the water moving across our feet as it rolled up the beach. Sure, a relaxing time but the skies as far as I can see over the ocean showed stormy weather, rain curtains.
We left the beach paddling in the direction of the surf. As we entered the surf, the guide was yelling, "paddle hard directly into the waves!" Our adrenaline was running high as we fiercely paddled our boat, cutting through and over the oncoming breaking waves, the waves punching us in the chest as we crossed through the white water, our kayaks with bows pointing to the skies then falling into the crest of the next advancing wave. Our animalistic screams of nervous excitement happened with each successful engagement until we finally made it past the break. We turned and continued paddling now following the coastline behind the surf as the wave energy beneath us swelled up then dropped, a chance to exhale for a minute.
Then, as we were preparing our reentry into the surf, we saw a large fish behind a wave suddenly jump out of the water with the dorsal fin of several sharks in close pursuit. Seconds later, another shark struck the port side of our guides boat with a loud thump, then splash! The look on his face wasn't reassuring. A sudden and increased fear of capsizing joined the paddle party with the proven knowledge that a man eating fish with extraordinarily sharp teeth was now lurking below! We renewed our focus paddling through the surf, engaging the ocean with a tone of survival. We surfed waves now approaching from behind, calling on our paddling skills to avoid capsizing in the break, pure instinct to remain upright, avoiding the hungry predators beneath.
At last we reached the calm protected waters sitting between the island and the sand bar giving us a relaxing stretch to finish the day. We all exhaled followed by laughing loudly! We each shared versions of our intense adventure, stopping to watch as a pod of dolphin past in front of us, one the guide named Notch as she was missing a hunk of her dorsal fin. This awesome day of kayaking, an epic day producing a fantastic life memory that wouldn't have been the same without the weather ladened skies above. This "living-life" thing we just did, a memory worthy of a story was simply amazing completely filling my spirit.
I woke up the next morning to find a parking ticket on my truck.