This song happens to be my theme just now, when those around me at work and daily events (usually involving gossip, unfaithfulness, murder, and inhumanity) keep getting me down, making me wonder why I do it all...why I do anything. The more exact and philosophical reason for this I have not fully formulated as of yet, so I'll leave that for another post. The song is by Skillet, a rock band, and is one of theirs called Awake and Alive.
I'm at war with the world
And they try to pull me into the dark
I struggle to find my faith
As I'm slipping from your arms
It's getting harder to stay awake
And my strength is fading fast
You breathe into me at last
I'm awake, I'm alive
Now I know what I believe inside
Now it's my time
I'll do what I want 'cause this is my life
Right here, right now
Stand my ground and never back down
I know what I believe inside
I'm awake, and I'm alive
I'm at war with the world
'Cause I ain't never gonna sell my soul
I've already made up my mind
No matter what, I can't be bought or sold
When my faith is getting weak
And I feel like giving in
You breathe into me again
I'm awake, I'm alive
Now I know what I believe inside
Now it's my time
I'll do what I want 'cause this is my life
I can feel you in my sleep
In your arms, I feel you breathe into me
Forever hold this heart that I will give to you
Forever I will live for you
Thursday, June 16, 2011
Tuesday, June 14, 2011
A simple death
What prompted me to quote John Donne's sonnet was the death of a child at the hospital last week...a child with severe physical and mental handicaps and a very contorted body. She was in her late teens and had a Do Not Resucitate order on her chart, which basically means that if her heart stops or she stops breathing, we are to do nothing for her but to let her go.
Yes, this was probably a good idea since she was so very sick and had been all her life. I walked into the room from doing something and offered to help, but was told by the other nurse that she was gone.
Gone.
simple little phrase but true nonetheless. Sure, the body is there but she, her essence and soul is not. I held her hand a moment, and looked over her contorted, misshapen little body and wondered about all the sufferings she had experienced, if she had ever had much comfort. Happily, she couldn't have suffered much before she died...and it was nice to see her so peaceful. She passed...and we are finished.
Usually when such a thing happens we are in full gear, administering meds, doing cpr, putting tubes down throats, and attempting to force the body to awaken again. After about 15 minutes of this with no response, we usually discontinue our efforts. This time, nothing happened. I felt weird, like I should be doing something to help her, but she didn't really need our help.
Goodnight, little rose. Thou art now in the garden of paradise.
Yes, this was probably a good idea since she was so very sick and had been all her life. I walked into the room from doing something and offered to help, but was told by the other nurse that she was gone.
Gone.
simple little phrase but true nonetheless. Sure, the body is there but she, her essence and soul is not. I held her hand a moment, and looked over her contorted, misshapen little body and wondered about all the sufferings she had experienced, if she had ever had much comfort. Happily, she couldn't have suffered much before she died...and it was nice to see her so peaceful. She passed...and we are finished.
Usually when such a thing happens we are in full gear, administering meds, doing cpr, putting tubes down throats, and attempting to force the body to awaken again. After about 15 minutes of this with no response, we usually discontinue our efforts. This time, nothing happened. I felt weird, like I should be doing something to help her, but she didn't really need our help.
Goodnight, little rose. Thou art now in the garden of paradise.
Thursday, June 02, 2011
Death be not Proud
DEATH be not proud, though some have called thee
Mighty and dreadfull, for, thou art not so,
For, those, whom thou think'st, thou dost overthrow,
Die not, poore death, nor yet canst thou kill me.
From rest and sleepe, which but thy pictures bee, 5
Much pleasure, then from thee, much more must flow,
And soonest our best men with thee doe goe,
Rest of their bones, and soules deliverie.
Thou art slave to Fate, Chance, kings, and desperate men,
And dost with poyson, warre, and sicknesse dwell, 10
And poppie, or charmes can make us sleepe as well,
And better then thy stroake; why swell'st thou then;
One short sleepe past, wee wake eternally,
And death shall be no more; death, thou shalt die.
Mighty and dreadfull, for, thou art not so,
For, those, whom thou think'st, thou dost overthrow,
Die not, poore death, nor yet canst thou kill me.
From rest and sleepe, which but thy pictures bee, 5
Much pleasure, then from thee, much more must flow,
And soonest our best men with thee doe goe,
Rest of their bones, and soules deliverie.
Thou art slave to Fate, Chance, kings, and desperate men,
And dost with poyson, warre, and sicknesse dwell, 10
And poppie, or charmes can make us sleepe as well,
And better then thy stroake; why swell'st thou then;
One short sleepe past, wee wake eternally,
And death shall be no more; death, thou shalt die.
Tuesday, May 24, 2011
A Day We Will Never Forget
The time has come.
Child number 2 (hereafter known as Suzy) has earned her Bachelors Degree, so the family will converge to partake of this wonderful new step. Who'd have thunk this attempt at familial bonding time would morph into a series of disasters!
It started out well enough, the six younger "kids," dad, and myself camping in Gettysburg for 2 nights. The auto tour was great, the visitors center and cylorama were great! Thousands of memorials dot the countryside, roadsides, and forest paths. The national cemetery is home to thousands of fallen soldiers of that war and 4 subsequent wars. Though beautiful and very interesting to see those places of which we had heretofore only read about, our thoughts were sobered remembering those who had fallen. "Right where I am standing now, a soldier fought and died."
The day we left Gettysburgh, our troubles began. Before we could leave the serpentine belt on the van had to be replaced, so we used the stupid GPS to find 3 different auto parts stores...the first two of which were no where to be found. We went for a hike to McDonald's while dad and Peter fixed the van, and Daniel picked up some friendly little blood suckers on the way. After beating all of the ticks off of him, we started down route 30, also known as the Lincoln Highway, which originates in New York City and ends up in San Francisco, I think. A major thoroughfare from the days of the epic road trip. That very day, just after going though Pitsburg the van stalled out on the interstate...started again...stalled 2 more times before we were able to get off the interstate.
I cannot describe the pit of fear that arose in my chest...other than it was the most nervous and afraid I have been in a very long time. Sufice to say, that we then ran up a hill to go to a gas station which did not exist, then a very nice, toothless young man from West Virginia gave us some gas.
You know, there is something to be said for good breeding, and though this toothless, scruffy young West Virginian who probably had no more than a highschool education at best was on his way home from work the same as everyone else, he stopped to help some stranded out-of-towners, gave us three gallons of gas which he would not take payment for. There were many better educated and better kempt looking persons about, but all they did was stare and smirk...or simply ignore us.
We got to the gas station, gassed up, then the van would not start. Almost the same moment, the sky opened in a severe storm. Happy times, right? we were quite happy for the shelter of the gas station. A friendly Texan offered to jump us, but the car wasn't jumping.
Anyhow, to make a terribly long story short, we ended up stranded in a gas station for about 5 hours, I spent most of it attempting to obtain lodgings for that night (thank God the GPS and my phone held a charge for a few hours!). Suzy arrived in the oldsmobile to take 4 people with her. the tow truck came to tow the van (and the remaining 4 personel) into town...and a very interesting person was the driver. Covered in tatoos and spitting tobacco out the door every so often. He then took us to the hotel (where we could stay only Thursday night) and bade us farewell. Needless to say there was much heated emotion and frustration that night but we all made it through. The next day, we found an Holiday Inn 20 miles north in West Virginia...and let me tell you that ferrying 10 people back and forth in a
Child number 2 (hereafter known as Suzy) has earned her Bachelors Degree, so the family will converge to partake of this wonderful new step. Who'd have thunk this attempt at familial bonding time would morph into a series of disasters!
It started out well enough, the six younger "kids," dad, and myself camping in Gettysburg for 2 nights. The auto tour was great, the visitors center and cylorama were great! Thousands of memorials dot the countryside, roadsides, and forest paths. The national cemetery is home to thousands of fallen soldiers of that war and 4 subsequent wars. Though beautiful and very interesting to see those places of which we had heretofore only read about, our thoughts were sobered remembering those who had fallen. "Right where I am standing now, a soldier fought and died."
The day we left Gettysburgh, our troubles began. Before we could leave the serpentine belt on the van had to be replaced, so we used the stupid GPS to find 3 different auto parts stores...the first two of which were no where to be found. We went for a hike to McDonald's while dad and Peter fixed the van, and Daniel picked up some friendly little blood suckers on the way. After beating all of the ticks off of him, we started down route 30, also known as the Lincoln Highway, which originates in New York City and ends up in San Francisco, I think. A major thoroughfare from the days of the epic road trip. That very day, just after going though Pitsburg the van stalled out on the interstate...started again...stalled 2 more times before we were able to get off the interstate.
I cannot describe the pit of fear that arose in my chest...other than it was the most nervous and afraid I have been in a very long time. Sufice to say, that we then ran up a hill to go to a gas station which did not exist, then a very nice, toothless young man from West Virginia gave us some gas.
We got to the gas station, gassed up, then the van would not start. Almost the same moment, the sky opened in a severe storm. Happy times, right? we were quite happy for the shelter of the gas station. A friendly Texan offered to jump us, but the car wasn't jumping.
Anyhow, to make a terribly long story short, we ended up stranded in a gas station for about 5 hours, I spent most of it attempting to obtain lodgings for that night (thank God the GPS and my phone held a charge for a few hours!). Suzy arrived in the oldsmobile to take 4 people with her. the tow truck came to tow the van (and the remaining 4 personel) into town...and a very interesting person was the driver. Covered in tatoos and spitting tobacco out the door every so often. He then took us to the hotel (where we could stay only Thursday night) and bade us farewell. Needless to say there was much heated emotion and frustration that night but we all made it through. The next day, we found an Holiday Inn 20 miles north in West Virginia...and let me tell you that ferrying 10 people back and forth in a
Sunday, November 07, 2010
Catholic Action; or the escapades of three children endevouring to save souls.
Plenary indulgences may usually be gained only once a day and for each one must receive confession and communion and be detatched from their sins. Well, for the first 9 days of November, the month of the Holy Souls, one may attain an indulgence each day for the poor souls in Purgatory if one visits a cemetery and prays for the dead.
My sister, brother, and I were endeavouring to save as many souls as possible and had visited cemeteries for the first six days consecutively. At around 9pm on a school night, we realized "oh no! we didn't visit the cemetery today!" Lucky for us, a mile down the road is a little Mennonite church, behind which is a little Mennonite cemetery. We hopped into the 93 Oldsmobile and coasted down to the church, our teeth chattering since it usually takes about 10 minutes for the heat to get warm in that car.
Upon our arrival, we parked in the deserted parking lot and set off into the blackness behind the church. (CHRUNCH!) (CRRRRAACK!) the dried leaves and twigs beneath our feet. We tried to walk quietly, but we couldn't see a darned thing. "What if somebody seeeeees us?!?" came a harsh whisper. "They won't. It's too dark" I reassured her. "Yeah...it's so dark that if there was a murderer out here we wouldn't see him until it was too late...or a snake or something." "Oh NO!" "Stop it you two!" I whispered hoarsely, feeling goosebumps crawling up my neck.
There they were. The tombstones. We knelt (for we are very pius young Catholics) in the moist ground and commenced our Paters and Aves and Glorias in hushed voices. We stood to finish our prayers (because our knees were wet) when the whole world lit up. A frantic "hit the ground! from my brother and we were down on all fours. It was only a neighbor turning on his backyard flood light to ignite his grill (Who does that at 9pm!?!), but we felt the need for secrecy and slunk out of there double quick and doubled over.
All for the holy souls.
My sister, brother, and I were endeavouring to save as many souls as possible and had visited cemeteries for the first six days consecutively. At around 9pm on a school night, we realized "oh no! we didn't visit the cemetery today!" Lucky for us, a mile down the road is a little Mennonite church, behind which is a little Mennonite cemetery. We hopped into the 93 Oldsmobile and coasted down to the church, our teeth chattering since it usually takes about 10 minutes for the heat to get warm in that car.
Upon our arrival, we parked in the deserted parking lot and set off into the blackness behind the church. (CHRUNCH!) (CRRRRAACK!) the dried leaves and twigs beneath our feet. We tried to walk quietly, but we couldn't see a darned thing. "What if somebody seeeeees us?!?" came a harsh whisper. "They won't. It's too dark" I reassured her. "Yeah...it's so dark that if there was a murderer out here we wouldn't see him until it was too late...or a snake or something." "Oh NO!" "Stop it you two!" I whispered hoarsely, feeling goosebumps crawling up my neck.
There they were. The tombstones. We knelt (for we are very pius young Catholics) in the moist ground and commenced our Paters and Aves and Glorias in hushed voices. We stood to finish our prayers (because our knees were wet) when the whole world lit up. A frantic "hit the ground! from my brother and we were down on all fours. It was only a neighbor turning on his backyard flood light to ignite his grill (Who does that at 9pm!?!), but we felt the need for secrecy and slunk out of there double quick and doubled over.
All for the holy souls.
Sunday, August 08, 2010
Ah the well-read child
The other day, a groggy Saturday morning, I was in the bathroom brushing my teeth in an attempt to freshen up. My 11 year old brother came up to me with a very worried expression on his face. "My feet hurt really bad, and they are numb!" came the urgent complaint. I looked at him through my droopy eyes, and said "did thoo hust wake upf?" through my brushing. "Yes!" He is now running warm water into the bathtub behind me as I brush my teeth.
I spit. "well, it's probably cause you slept on them wrong or have a cramp. Or maybe its growing pains."
He looks at me a moment, dolefully, then back at his submerged feet. "No," he decides, "I think I have gout."
Me. "uh, Joseph, gout only happens in your big toe." (not true, but I wanted to get his mind off of it."
Joseph, panic stricken, "Now it's only in my big toe!!!"
Sheesh...hypocondriac. I think it was Little Lord Fauntleroy who introduced this illness to him.
I spit. "well, it's probably cause you slept on them wrong or have a cramp. Or maybe its growing pains."
He looks at me a moment, dolefully, then back at his submerged feet. "No," he decides, "I think I have gout."
Me. "uh, Joseph, gout only happens in your big toe." (not true, but I wanted to get his mind off of it."
Joseph, panic stricken, "Now it's only in my big toe!!!"
Sheesh...hypocondriac. I think it was Little Lord Fauntleroy who introduced this illness to him.
Saturday, July 10, 2010
Wonder of Wonders
Satan was the most celebrated of Alpine guides, when he took Jesus to the top of an exceeding high mountain and showed him all the kingdoms of the earth. But the joy of Satan in standing on a peak is not a joy of largeness, but a joy in beholding smallness, in the fact that all men look like insects at his feet. It is from the valley that things look large; it is from the level that things look high; I am a child of the level and have no need of that celebrated Alpine guide. I will life up my eyes to the hills from whence cometh my help; but I will not life up my carcass to the hills, unless it is absolutely necessary. Everything is in an attitude of mind; and at this moment I am in a comfortable attitude. I will sit still and let the marvels and the adventures settle on my like flies. T...here are plenty of them, I assure you. The world will never starve for want of wonders; but only for want of wonder.
~Tremendous Trifles, G.K.
~Tremendous Trifles, G.K.
Thursday, July 08, 2010
Fraternal Correction
fraternal correction: what it is and what it is not.
All good Christians have an obligation to Christian charity, to "love one another as Christ has loved us." The most important fact of this love is that we do whatever is beneficial to the salvation of the one who is loved. If I love someone and he is blindfolded walking towards a fire pit, am I not guilty of murder if I simply let him just walk into the fire and be burnt? If I did not correct him from his deathly path, he would have been lost, or at least quite badly injured. Christian charity therefore charges us to admonish the sinner, that is to guide one's brother in charity out of dire straights.
However, this virtue like others can be abused and become a vice. There are many folks who go around correcting everyone because they see it as their duty. These misguided but (hopefully) well intentioned individuals purport to be doing an act of charity, acting out of concern for another's spiritual well being, or "instructing the ignorant" when they are really judging, nagging, or simply picking on others. Fraternal charity is a virtue only when it is exactly that: charity. At times it is compulsory, that is we must say something or risk sinning. However, there are criteria to be met in order to make it compulsory, and if any particular criterion is not met correction is not compulsory and may even be inadavisable.
1) The delinquency to be corrected is a serious matter
That is, it must be something dealing with grievous sin or harm
2) There is no reason to believe that the sinner will adequately correct himself.
That is, if he doesn't know it is wrong and he will not figure it out for himself, then we bring it to his attention. If he realizes that it is wrong and is sorry, we don't rub their face in it and lecture them on it.
3) There is a well founded expectation that the advice/correction will be headed.
If we will be ignored there is no reason to offer correction that we know will not be headed. Furthermore, if the correction will cause scandal or increased or just make things worse for them we don't do it.
-we don't have coercive power
4) there is no one else present who can do it (i.e. the preist or someone in authority) I have to do it or it won't be done. Also, make sure that you protect the person's reputation and keep it private. Also, you must be qualified
5) there is no special trouble or disadvantage to the correction. we do not need to inconvenience ourselves greatly in order to get the correction around.
Makes sense to me, huh?
All good Christians have an obligation to Christian charity, to "love one another as Christ has loved us." The most important fact of this love is that we do whatever is beneficial to the salvation of the one who is loved. If I love someone and he is blindfolded walking towards a fire pit, am I not guilty of murder if I simply let him just walk into the fire and be burnt? If I did not correct him from his deathly path, he would have been lost, or at least quite badly injured. Christian charity therefore charges us to admonish the sinner, that is to guide one's brother in charity out of dire straights.
However, this virtue like others can be abused and become a vice. There are many folks who go around correcting everyone because they see it as their duty. These misguided but (hopefully) well intentioned individuals purport to be doing an act of charity, acting out of concern for another's spiritual well being, or "instructing the ignorant" when they are really judging, nagging, or simply picking on others. Fraternal charity is a virtue only when it is exactly that: charity. At times it is compulsory, that is we must say something or risk sinning. However, there are criteria to be met in order to make it compulsory, and if any particular criterion is not met correction is not compulsory and may even be inadavisable.
1) The delinquency to be corrected is a serious matter
That is, it must be something dealing with grievous sin or harm
2) There is no reason to believe that the sinner will adequately correct himself.
That is, if he doesn't know it is wrong and he will not figure it out for himself, then we bring it to his attention. If he realizes that it is wrong and is sorry, we don't rub their face in it and lecture them on it.
3) There is a well founded expectation that the advice/correction will be headed.
If we will be ignored there is no reason to offer correction that we know will not be headed. Furthermore, if the correction will cause scandal or increased or just make things worse for them we don't do it.
-we don't have coercive power
4) there is no one else present who can do it (i.e. the preist or someone in authority) I have to do it or it won't be done. Also, make sure that you protect the person's reputation and keep it private. Also, you must be qualified
5) there is no special trouble or disadvantage to the correction. we do not need to inconvenience ourselves greatly in order to get the correction around.
Makes sense to me, huh?
Tuesday, July 06, 2010
The delight of a child
These inventive sibs put hollow ice cubes on a stick and thereby invented a happy little snack for themselves.
Friday, July 02, 2010
"Til the Last Shot's Fired"
(One of the most touching songs I've ever heard)
I was there in the winter of '64
When we camped in the ice at Nashville's doors
Three hundred miles our trail had led
We barely had time to bury our dead
When the Yankees charged and the colors fell
Overton hill was a living hell
When we called retreat it was almost dark
I died with a grapeshot in my heart
Say a prayer for peace
For every fallen son
Set my spirit free
Let me lay down my gun
Sweet mother Mary I'm so tired
But I can't come home 'til
the last shot's fired
In June of 1944
I waited in the blood of Omaha's shores
Twenty-one and scared to death
My heart poundin' in my chest
I almost made the first seawall
When my friends turned and saw me fall
I still smell the smoke, I can taste the mud
As I lay there dying from a loss of blood
I'm in the fields of Vietnam,
The mountains of Afghanistan
And I'm still hopin', waitin', prayin'
I did not die in vain
Say a prayer for peace (for peace)
For our daughters and our sons
Set our spirits free (set us free)
Let us lay down our guns
Sweet mother Mary, we're so tired
But we can't come home (No
we can't come home)
I was there in the winter of '64
When we camped in the ice at Nashville's doors
Three hundred miles our trail had led
We barely had time to bury our dead
When the Yankees charged and the colors fell
Overton hill was a living hell
When we called retreat it was almost dark
I died with a grapeshot in my heart
Say a prayer for peace
For every fallen son
Set my spirit free
Let me lay down my gun
Sweet mother Mary I'm so tired
But I can't come home 'til
the last shot's fired
In June of 1944
I waited in the blood of Omaha's shores
Twenty-one and scared to death
My heart poundin' in my chest
I almost made the first seawall
When my friends turned and saw me fall
I still smell the smoke, I can taste the mud
As I lay there dying from a loss of blood
I'm in the fields of Vietnam,
The mountains of Afghanistan
And I'm still hopin', waitin', prayin'
I did not die in vain
Say a prayer for peace (for peace)
For our daughters and our sons
Set our spirits free (set us free)
Let us lay down our guns
Sweet mother Mary, we're so tired
But we can't come home (No
we can't come home)
Thursday, May 06, 2010
Monday, April 26, 2010
Transportation Medium 2010!!!
I finally got a car!!! a Hyundai Sonata 2010....took forever to find something I like, but it will do.
Wow...no posts in nearly 2 months...that's pretty long. Sorry folks. I've been alive though struck with a rather severe case of inertia and lack of motivation. As I haven't found the curative recipe yet, it may be yet alittle while until I get around to posting more after this.
Two weeks ago, I was privilege to be able to spend large amounts of time exclusively with my littlest brother who is only 9. The rest of my siblings have grown so much and are becoming grouchy adolescents and teens, which often leads me to forget that even though he has such older companions and influences, he's still only 9. In anycase, I was test driving a jeep around town with him in the back seat, and asking him car questions, if he liked it, and so on. I was saying something along the lines of "you should check out the new subarus" to which he sighed and replied, "and you should check out the new cherios...they've got tons of new flavors including chocolate." I had to laugh outloud...cars to chocolate cherios in 5 seconds flat. But really, why would I try to have an adult conversation with a kid? he's a child, not a small adult. Still simple minded and innocent.
I've noticed lots of folks speaking to their offspring in elementary school as if they were adults. "why would you do that???" one exasperated mother yelled at her 4 year old. The kid just stood and blinked at her, hands at his side, tears in his eyes, as if to say, "why what? what do you mean?" I want to say "he would because he's a kid, and he thinks like a kid, and he rides his tricycle as if there is no other person or object on the road. how was he supposed to know that he didn't move over far enough and smashed the headlight. Ah life.
where would we be without children.
Two weeks ago, I was privilege to be able to spend large amounts of time exclusively with my littlest brother who is only 9. The rest of my siblings have grown so much and are becoming grouchy adolescents and teens, which often leads me to forget that even though he has such older companions and influences, he's still only 9. In anycase, I was test driving a jeep around town with him in the back seat, and asking him car questions, if he liked it, and so on. I was saying something along the lines of "you should check out the new subarus" to which he sighed and replied, "and you should check out the new cherios...they've got tons of new flavors including chocolate." I had to laugh outloud...cars to chocolate cherios in 5 seconds flat. But really, why would I try to have an adult conversation with a kid? he's a child, not a small adult. Still simple minded and innocent.
I've noticed lots of folks speaking to their offspring in elementary school as if they were adults. "why would you do that???" one exasperated mother yelled at her 4 year old. The kid just stood and blinked at her, hands at his side, tears in his eyes, as if to say, "why what? what do you mean?" I want to say "he would because he's a kid, and he thinks like a kid, and he rides his tricycle as if there is no other person or object on the road. how was he supposed to know that he didn't move over far enough and smashed the headlight. Ah life.
where would we be without children.
Friday, February 05, 2010
Leisure
Lying in bed this morning, I was thinking how wonderful it is to live in the way of leisure. It was the first time I could just lay there this week, didn't have to get up afore 6am. (hehehe...makes me happy I don't have kids) Leisure, as opposed to laziness (and it is very different) is not only beneficial to the health of a person as it helps to nip stress and anger in the bud, but also healthful since a person isn't pressed to do anything. Prayer is more effective if one isn't thinking "O my gosh, I need to get this from the store, then I have to write out the bills, taxes need to be done, Jenny's baby is due this week so I should call her, I need to pick up so and so's perscription, the laundrey should be done before this evening," etc.
yes we have many things to do in our everyday lives, but there really is plenty of time to do them, and the things that we stress out about need not be stressed out. Just take a step back and put it into perspective. As my mother's favorite music artists, Marie Bellet, sings, "it's the little things that get you a little at a time." If one lived in a leisurely fashion, they wouldn't get so hung up on the little things. Errands actually become very enjoyable when you've simply got plenty of time to get them done, when you can stop an extra place at some point. I think folks would be much happier too.
Some good reading on the subject (if you've time enough to digest it) is Josef Pieper's Leisure: the Basis of Culture. Absolutely fantabulous publication by a most excellent Catholic philospher of the 20th century. The 20th century has yeilded many excellent Catholic philosphers: Von Hildebrands, Chesterton, Pieper, C.S. Lewis (who was almost Cahtolic), JPII, and others.
yes we have many things to do in our everyday lives, but there really is plenty of time to do them, and the things that we stress out about need not be stressed out. Just take a step back and put it into perspective. As my mother's favorite music artists, Marie Bellet, sings, "it's the little things that get you a little at a time." If one lived in a leisurely fashion, they wouldn't get so hung up on the little things. Errands actually become very enjoyable when you've simply got plenty of time to get them done, when you can stop an extra place at some point. I think folks would be much happier too.
Some good reading on the subject (if you've time enough to digest it) is Josef Pieper's Leisure: the Basis of Culture. Absolutely fantabulous publication by a most excellent Catholic philospher of the 20th century. The 20th century has yeilded many excellent Catholic philosphers: Von Hildebrands, Chesterton, Pieper, C.S. Lewis (who was almost Cahtolic), JPII, and others.
Tuesday, January 19, 2010
ideas on life
Having been out in the workforce for only a wee bit thus far, I can easily see why so many folks are jaded and tired of life. There are many screwy things in this world, and there always have been and probably always will be, but one of the screwiest is people's ideas of life and it's value.
Just reflect for a moment on the history of the world. For thousands of years since the beginning of the world, almost without exception, people have longed for a time when they could see all of their children grow to adulthood, or perhaps they have wished to live long enough to see their children have children. Up until the last century, the average life expectancy was approximately 40 years (give or take) for a few hundred years, and in the middle ages was somewhere in the 30s. The most obvious reason for this was that nearly half of all children under the age of 5 would die from one cause or another...no one bothered with birth control or abortion because they simply went against the instinct of preserving the race, which seemed to be in danger of extinction. I speak here of the natural reasons against it, not the moral implications. Now, I have met so many people who don't want kids, or who have one but don't want another, or who meet me and find out I have 7 sibs and ask "is your mom on crack?" why would they think that? It has simply become unpopular to have children. The popularity of life is obsolete. Overall, I think most of my peers and coworkers would not act or be like that if it didn't seem to be the "thing to think." Amazing how strong peer pressure is. It is downright foolishness to put such a cheep value on life... we are horrified at slavery, that one person could own or put a price on another, but we do it all the time, in our thoughts, in our heads, we classify them as far as their worth or value. I don't think this is natural at all...despite the fact that everyone does it. I think it is depraved.
Just reflect for a moment on the history of the world. For thousands of years since the beginning of the world, almost without exception, people have longed for a time when they could see all of their children grow to adulthood, or perhaps they have wished to live long enough to see their children have children. Up until the last century, the average life expectancy was approximately 40 years (give or take) for a few hundred years, and in the middle ages was somewhere in the 30s. The most obvious reason for this was that nearly half of all children under the age of 5 would die from one cause or another...no one bothered with birth control or abortion because they simply went against the instinct of preserving the race, which seemed to be in danger of extinction. I speak here of the natural reasons against it, not the moral implications. Now, I have met so many people who don't want kids, or who have one but don't want another, or who meet me and find out I have 7 sibs and ask "is your mom on crack?" why would they think that? It has simply become unpopular to have children. The popularity of life is obsolete. Overall, I think most of my peers and coworkers would not act or be like that if it didn't seem to be the "thing to think." Amazing how strong peer pressure is. It is downright foolishness to put such a cheep value on life... we are horrified at slavery, that one person could own or put a price on another, but we do it all the time, in our thoughts, in our heads, we classify them as far as their worth or value. I don't think this is natural at all...despite the fact that everyone does it. I think it is depraved.
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