Today, there was a squall line that passed through my hometown. This is not an unusual occurrence, before the current 100 year drought we are in, we used to have these lines come through quite regularly. Not so surprisingly, the local newscast was filled with news about the downpour. What was odd, I think, is that they filled the entire morning with nothing but news about this squall line. There was a major speech given by President Obama last night, but still there was only news about the squalls. Have we really become such weather weenies that we freak out when a very normal rainstorm occurs?
I think we needed to hear about the rain, but seriously? Not one word all morning about the State of the Union address? It seems that we are spoon-fed useless info by the media on all topics. We get news stories about music stars, movie stars, sports stars and run-of-mill weather, but major issues like Keystone XL being highjacked by being attached to payroll tax bills or corporate malfeasance get ignored.
But we are fat, happy and ignorant -- just the way the corporations and politicians want us.
Wednesday, January 25, 2012
Thursday, January 5, 2012
What my weary brain wonders. . .
The past couple of days, I've not slept well and have been experiencing that horrible all over pain I haven't been able to shake these since October. My pain addled and exhausted brain wanders about, unrestrained.
Why do they call it TV "news" when most of the stories I already read online. That's not new, it's just repetitious.
Retail shops are pure evil -- and I mean that in the most supernatural way. It doesn't matter what it is I need or how unusual it is that I need it, the item will be at the back of the store. Especially if I just saw it "the other day" near the front. Which means I must walk all the way to through the store to get it. Which means I am subjected to their plots and machinations to get me to buy other stuff.
Entering the parking lot at Walmart automatically lowers your I.Q. by 10 points or more. Most people can't afford the hit.
A 5 lb dog weighs a lot more when your leg has gone to sleep.
What causes people to ask you complicated questions when you first wake up in the morning? I contend humans have a sensor in their brains that trigger the most complicated question they have ever considered when they sense weakness in their opponent. It's a plot.
I don't think the Department of Transportation has a proof-reading section for road signs. Or if they do, the proof-reader needs a spell checker.
It never fails -- as soon I get interested in a book, TV program, or anything that requires my concentration, someone will start talking. I guess because they think I'm more interested in whatever they are doing than what I am doing.
I should probably sleep more. It's not safe to let my brain wander around all by itself.
Why do they call it TV "news" when most of the stories I already read online. That's not new, it's just repetitious.
Retail shops are pure evil -- and I mean that in the most supernatural way. It doesn't matter what it is I need or how unusual it is that I need it, the item will be at the back of the store. Especially if I just saw it "the other day" near the front. Which means I must walk all the way to through the store to get it. Which means I am subjected to their plots and machinations to get me to buy other stuff.
Entering the parking lot at Walmart automatically lowers your I.Q. by 10 points or more. Most people can't afford the hit.
A 5 lb dog weighs a lot more when your leg has gone to sleep.
What causes people to ask you complicated questions when you first wake up in the morning? I contend humans have a sensor in their brains that trigger the most complicated question they have ever considered when they sense weakness in their opponent. It's a plot.
I don't think the Department of Transportation has a proof-reading section for road signs. Or if they do, the proof-reader needs a spell checker.
It never fails -- as soon I get interested in a book, TV program, or anything that requires my concentration, someone will start talking. I guess because they think I'm more interested in whatever they are doing than what I am doing.
I should probably sleep more. It's not safe to let my brain wander around all by itself.
Tuesday, January 3, 2012
Miracles??
I just saw a commercial for a program chronicling the Texans 2011 season. They described the season as "miraculous". Really? Miraculous? I can't help but wonder if we have perhaps forgotten what that word means. Dictionary.com defines the word as follows:
1. performed by or involving a supernatural power or agency: a miraculous cure.
2. of the nature of a miracle; marvelous.
3. having or seeming to have the power to work miracles: miraculous drugs.
mi·rac·u·lous
adjective1. performed by or involving a supernatural power or agency: a miraculous cure.
2. of the nature of a miracle; marvelous.
3. having or seeming to have the power to work miracles: miraculous drugs.
I might buy that the season, if you were a genuinely committed fan, was marvelous, maybe. A record of 10 and 4 is pretty good, certainly the best in the history of the team, but does the phrase "miraculous season" cheapen the idea of a miracle?
Of course, it's not that the media is alone in over-using the term -- I've even used it myself. It's no miracle that I can find a parking spot or that there is still peanut butter in the jar. The lot is full of parking spots and I bought the darn peanut butter and will buy more. These things are not miraculous (no matter how much I say they are).
We can, and I think should, elevate the profane to contact the sacred, find methods through which we can exercise the sacred within ourselves to touch the world around us. This is, in my humble opinion, the reason we gather together in sacred places to expand our hearts in such a way as to demonstrate the nature of the Divine within the limitations of the mundane. Moments in which we achieve this are miraculous.
Admittedly, I have become a bit of a cynic about professional sports, but I'm still a bit of a fan (especially of my beloved Packers). No matter how unlikely a team's record, however, I cannot label it a miracle. I'll save that designation for those moments in which we insignificant and temporal human beings come together to exercise that in us which is Divine.
Monday, January 2, 2012
Chocolate and Operant Conditioning
I just love the television program, "The Big Bang Theory" and happily watched the TBBT marathon, in part, on TBS on New Year's Eve. As part of this marathon (by the way, this is the only sort of marathon I'll ever participate in -- and live to tell about it), an episode was aired in which Sheldon attempts to modified Penny's behavior by rewarding her with chocolate whenever she displayed behavior Sheldon approved of, such as moving from his spot, leaving the room to speak on the phone. In the show, the change was immediate. As soon as Sheldon introduced the positive reinforcement, Penny immediately began to modify her behavior. Obviously, the joke would grow stale quickly without this immediate change in behavior. It is, after all, just a 30 minute sitcom and not a study in psychological behavioral conditioning.
I laughed with Sidney and my dad but it got me thinking about how we reward ourselves, introducing positive reinforcements for certain behaviors, mostly without even realizing we are doing it. In other words, we all have chocolate. If this is true, then it also seems that I could start becoming aware of what behaviors I reward myself for and what behaviors others reward, then I could use this incredibly powerful tool for behavioral change to make positive improvements in my life.
But I probably shouldn't use chocolate. I think I'm fluffy enough already without increasing my chocolate intake.
I laughed with Sidney and my dad but it got me thinking about how we reward ourselves, introducing positive reinforcements for certain behaviors, mostly without even realizing we are doing it. In other words, we all have chocolate. If this is true, then it also seems that I could start becoming aware of what behaviors I reward myself for and what behaviors others reward, then I could use this incredibly powerful tool for behavioral change to make positive improvements in my life.
But I probably shouldn't use chocolate. I think I'm fluffy enough already without increasing my chocolate intake.
Sunday, January 1, 2012
An Unwilling Herbivore
I admit it -- I love meat. I love a well seared hunk of steak, a perfectly seasoned cheeseburger, a delicately flavored grilled bit of chicken, even a sweetly tender pork tenderloin. All of these things and more. Especially with a softly risen roll or biscuit. Naturally, given my general carnivore tendency, a few months ago, my doctor put me on a gluten free, organic diet with lots of fresh veggies and limited meat. Considering how horrible I felt when I visited my doctor and got this advice, I was willing to give the diet a try. She warned me: give it some time, you may not feel better for a few weeks. I should probably mention she diagnosed me with fibromyalgia, tried Lyrica in addition to all the lifestyle changes.
I jumped in to this new change (call it an early resolution for the New Year) with both feet. I found farmer's markets, shopped locally, tried foods I never thought I'd eat. Gradually, I adapted. I ate raw spinach, carrots, broccoli, cabbage, green beans, squash, zucchini . . . I even ate eggplant (heretofore considered alien cuisine and therefore suspect at best). I ate vegan, gluten free cookies (previously, I would have called them sawdust blobs, but they were surprisingly delicious -- I'd eat them even if my doc said I could go back to my old ways of eating). I ate freaky-looking granola, basically nuts and twigs held together with something called agave syrup. I even ate unidentified Indian food, standing in the parking lot where they hold the farmer's market (right up until I ate something so HOT my eyes started watering and snot dripped into my mouth from the spiciness of the food) I drank lots of water, very limited sodas and other beverages. All in all, a pretty radical change.
I did my best not to cheat and, except for more soda than I needed, I'd call it a successful change. I went back to my doctor. But I still had all the same complaints and basically no improvement. She suggested meditation, yoga and a daily walk (another early resolution). I started walking every day, practiced meditation daily, engaged in stretching while I waited for the local yoga class to start again. I did everything the doctor said to do, including staying on my diet. And still the symptoms hung around, but I was convinced if I just hung in there, I'd start feeling better. Despite a nasty reaction to the medication, I was determined to be positive that eating healthier would prove beneficial.
Jump to the holidays -- Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New Year's Day -- the big 3. I still felt fairly crummy, nevertheless, I think I did really good for Thanksgiving. Then, feeling frustrated, deprived and irritable with this silly diet, I decided I would just eat what I wanted at the holiday get-together. I still mediated, still walked, still stretched. I got home on Christmas day, having enjoyed a freshly baked yeast roll with my turkey, and noticed how I ate didn't seem to make any difference. I'd been eating gluten-free, organic, practically vegetarian for more than two and half months. I'd been practicing meditation and light exercises for about the same amount of time. The symptoms that lead me to start all these changes were unabated.
Today is the first day of 2012 and this is what I learned from these past three months: sometimes, no matter what I try, I cannot change my physical condition; however, I can always control my attitude. Sure, I miss yeast bread and beautifully prepared meat, but I am not willing to give up and will march, unyielding, into this year. I may not lose a single pound (which I haven't yet) and I may not physically feel better. But psychologically, I feel better just knowing I am doing something to fight this.
Therefore, I'm declaring 2012 to my Year of the Unwilling Herbivore. I may feel physically weaker, but I'm stronger and more determined than ever to control my attitude.
I jumped in to this new change (call it an early resolution for the New Year) with both feet. I found farmer's markets, shopped locally, tried foods I never thought I'd eat. Gradually, I adapted. I ate raw spinach, carrots, broccoli, cabbage, green beans, squash, zucchini . . . I even ate eggplant (heretofore considered alien cuisine and therefore suspect at best). I ate vegan, gluten free cookies (previously, I would have called them sawdust blobs, but they were surprisingly delicious -- I'd eat them even if my doc said I could go back to my old ways of eating). I ate freaky-looking granola, basically nuts and twigs held together with something called agave syrup. I even ate unidentified Indian food, standing in the parking lot where they hold the farmer's market (right up until I ate something so HOT my eyes started watering and snot dripped into my mouth from the spiciness of the food) I drank lots of water, very limited sodas and other beverages. All in all, a pretty radical change.
I did my best not to cheat and, except for more soda than I needed, I'd call it a successful change. I went back to my doctor. But I still had all the same complaints and basically no improvement. She suggested meditation, yoga and a daily walk (another early resolution). I started walking every day, practiced meditation daily, engaged in stretching while I waited for the local yoga class to start again. I did everything the doctor said to do, including staying on my diet. And still the symptoms hung around, but I was convinced if I just hung in there, I'd start feeling better. Despite a nasty reaction to the medication, I was determined to be positive that eating healthier would prove beneficial.
Jump to the holidays -- Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New Year's Day -- the big 3. I still felt fairly crummy, nevertheless, I think I did really good for Thanksgiving. Then, feeling frustrated, deprived and irritable with this silly diet, I decided I would just eat what I wanted at the holiday get-together. I still mediated, still walked, still stretched. I got home on Christmas day, having enjoyed a freshly baked yeast roll with my turkey, and noticed how I ate didn't seem to make any difference. I'd been eating gluten-free, organic, practically vegetarian for more than two and half months. I'd been practicing meditation and light exercises for about the same amount of time. The symptoms that lead me to start all these changes were unabated.
Today is the first day of 2012 and this is what I learned from these past three months: sometimes, no matter what I try, I cannot change my physical condition; however, I can always control my attitude. Sure, I miss yeast bread and beautifully prepared meat, but I am not willing to give up and will march, unyielding, into this year. I may not lose a single pound (which I haven't yet) and I may not physically feel better. But psychologically, I feel better just knowing I am doing something to fight this.
Therefore, I'm declaring 2012 to my Year of the Unwilling Herbivore. I may feel physically weaker, but I'm stronger and more determined than ever to control my attitude.
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