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Month: June 2018

A Meaningful Life

A Meaningful Life

Here are a few things that make life meaningful!

It’s time for me to get up.

My left foot hits the floor and I wince as the pain moves across the bottom of my foot and up into my ankle.  I relive the experience as my right foot hits, and I hobble down the stairs to get my coffee.  By the time I get my coffee and go back up the stairs, like the Tin Man in the Wizard of Oz after his oil can treatment, things are moving and the pain is less.

Growing older, it takes some patience.

Today is my birthday.

I turn sixty two today.

And with the exception of the slow starts in the morning, and realizing I can’t do everything the way I used to, I feel pretty good.

I don’t feel like an old guy.

My financial advisor Mike called me yesterday to wish me a happy birthday and to remind me I was now eligible for social security.

I also got a couple of those cell phone sales calls; one was about a Medicare supplemental insurance; and the other went something like this:

“Hello my name is Joe and I am a Medical Alert Systems Emergency Specialist on a recorded line.  Our records indicate you are part of an age group that are prone to falls, injuries, and health issues…”

I guess I now fit the demographic.

For my birthday this evening my wife took me out and bought me a new bicycle.  Since we are running less we have started to cycle more for exercise.  The bad thing about being sixty two and cycling is that I look pretty funny in bike pants.

The good thing about being 62 and looking funny in my bike pants is that I just don’t care.

I read an article yesterday that said there are many people who feel their lives are meaningless, they spend their whole lives searching for a purpose.   But, according to Thaddeus Metz writing in the Stanford Dictionary of Philosophy,  the author says of those who do feel that meaning in their lives can be identified, they fall into one of four groups:

  1. Those that are god-centered (not with a capital G) and believe only a deity can provide purpose.
  2. Those that have the soul-centered view and think that something of us must continue beyond our lives, a spiritual after physical existence.
  3. Then there are the “objectivists” who say there are absolute truths that have value and offer meaning, like creativity or living a moral life.
  4. Finally there are the “subjectivists” who consider making an intellectual discovery, raising children with love, playing music, and developing superior athletic ability is what gives life meaning.

 

I don’t know about all that.

I think Mr. Metz has this meaningful life thing a little confused.

Because I believe the things that make life meaningful are all the above.

I may not be a philosopher or as smart as Mr. Metz, but I think believing in God with a capital G; believing there is a life everlasting; having creativity and living a moral life; raising my children and grandchildren with love; playing music; and developing superior athletic abilities on my new bicycle may be helping me have a meaningful life.

I guess that makes me a God-centered, soul-centered, objective subjectivist with a new bicycle who looks ridiculous in bike pants.

My recommendation for Mr. Metz is that he go find Jesus, pick up a Bible and read John 3:16; get himself a back yard with a koi pond, a deck, and some banana trees; marry someone like my wife and have some kids and grandkids; pick up a guitar or harmonica; and buy himself a bicycle.

Yup that’s what I think.

Today is a happy birthday.

 

 

Purple Carrot All In My Brain

Purple Carrot All In My Brain

Dude…get a haircut!

“Purple Haze all in my brain,

Lately things they don’t seem the same.

Actin’ funny but I don’t know why.

‘Scuse me, while I kiss the sky”

Jimi Hendrix

 

Where is Joe?

Why did he leave me here all alone?

Well, I am not alone really, I know these people.

But I don’t really know these people.

I am scared.

I sit in the sanctuary of this corner that seems like it is miles away from the door.

But it is only feet.

And I would never make it even if I tried.

Those in the room speak to me but I can’t talk back.

I open my mouth but no sounds come out.

They start to talk about me but I can’t defend myself or offer an explanation, not that I understood what was going on myself.

Like someone in a coma maybe,  I hear but I am unable to speak.

Then I give up.

I will just wait for my friend to return.

After what seems like an eternity the door opens, it is my friend.

The fear disappears from my face and my body is alive again.

A smile returns.

“Joe,” I said loudly.

 

Fast forward almost fifty years.

Today the Purple Carrot was left on my doorstep.

The Purple Carrot.

Conjuring up days of future passed; thoughts of Orange Barrels, Purple Haze, and Yellow Sunshine weaved their way through and mixed with the colored carrot.  Maybe I should  play “White Rabbit” by the Airplane or put on Electric Ladyland.

No, this is different.

There is no need to be paranoid (I think?).

I am safely in my later middle age; safe in my backyard and in my garden doing adult things like spreading mulch.

“Honey, dinner in five minutes,” my wife yells from the deck.

Tonight will be my first experience being turned on to the Purple Carrot, my wife’s new plant-based meal service delivered right to my doorstep.

Oh boy!

Roasted Sweet Potato Tacos with Caramelized Pineapple and Chipotle Ranch.

If someone told me back in 1971:

“Hey man, I see a Roasted Sweet Potato Taco with Caramelized Pineapple and Chipotle Ranch in your future many years from now…”

I would have said “Far out man… and I suppose I ordered that taco on my handheld wireless telephone and had it delivered to my doorstep.  You must be hallucinating…sweet potato tacos…chipotle…what is chipotle anyway?”

I don’t think my good friend Joe was a vegan but he did have a passion for growing vegetables.  In fact, at his memorial, I met three nice ladies who were his neighbors who referred to him as “Veggie Joe” because he would always leave care packages of vegetables from his garden on their doorsteps.  After the memorial, we divvied up some of Joe’s collection of seeds amongst our group of close friends.  I am hoping to mix some Veggie Joe ’s tomatoes and cucumbers with my Purple Carrots sometime this summer.

 

Like so many years ago in that place somewhere in my brain, I don’t know why he left me and the rest of us, but this time I am not scared and I don’t feel alone and I know where he is.  And when I see him the next time I expect I will again smile and say loudly “Joe.”

For now, I will eat my Purple Carrot and hope that the Caps don’t have a third period like they did in that second game that might hasten my demise.

Next up…Scallion Zucchini Noodle Cake with Tamarind Butter and Asparagus.

Oh boy!

‘Scuse me while I kiss the sky!