Trusting the Universe
Stars of a planet and galaxy in a free space
First point: Albert Einstein – no shrinking Violet in the field of deep thought – said, “I think the most important question facing humanity is, ‘Is the universe a friendly place?’”
He put forth three alternatives:
Option One: the Universe is unfriendly. In that case, we use our technology, science and resources to be safe by creating bigger walls to keep out the unfriendliness and bigger weapons to destroy all that which is unfriendly. He went on to add, “We are getting to a place where technology is powerful enough that we may either completely isolate or destroy ourselves as well in this process.”
The second alternative is that the Universe is neither friendly nor unfriendly and that God is essentially “playing dice with the universe.” Should this be accurate, we are simply victims to the random toss of the dice and our lives have no real purpose or meaning.
That leaves one other choice: The Universe is a friendly place. In this instance, we will use our technology, science, and resources to create tools and models to understand it “because power and safety will come through understanding its workings and its motives.”
He made no final call except to say, “God does not play dice with the universe.”
Point two: Our current political dialog resembles more an elementary school playground fight than a contest for the most powerful office in land. There’s a gag-worthy political stench wafting through the discourse.
No one likes it (well, no one that’s rational at least). To change it, some respond by shouting, “We need to fight. It’s time to get angry.”
Don’t get me wrong; I am angry too. However, I’m inviting other to share in my campaign: “Compassion first. I’d rather be happy than right.”
It doesn’t mean I’m rolling over; this is not an “either-or” thing.
Surrounded by Miracles
Lessons in Patience from the World’s Slowest Pedestrian
I’m impatient, tense, and in a frenzy as I pull up to the intersection to turn right.
The light’s green but because a meandering male pedestrian is wandering unhurriedly across the crosswalk on the street to which I’m trying to turn, I’m stalled.
He’s quite the eyeful; forty and short – maybe five and a half feet tall, with a hobbit-type potbelly.
His brown hair is a bird nest of a toupee with the crown not even pretending to match the temples. He’s adorned in a garish, undersized, well-worn, striped, algae-greenish, polyester sports coat that doesn’t fit him — or the current decade. His trousers are twisted so his fly doesn’t line up with his belt buckle. Neither is aligned with the center of his body, each wrenched askew in a different direction. The waist of his pants is pulled up so high, resulting in the pant-legs being too short, exposing his calves well above his socks. (As a kid, we called those, “high waters” because if there were a flood, you wouldn’t get your pants wet.) Pants, grey; shoes, maroon; socks yellow — he obviously did not have a wife to help him choose his clothes.
Wrapped within his short arms that the sport coat’s sleeves do not cover, pressed to his chest, are too many files in too few folders. While navigating the crosswalk, he’s trying to prevent the papers from sliding out of the packets on to the ground, causing his hands to be constantly in motion, sliding hither and yon across them. Further complicating this maneuver, is his Styrofoam cup full of coffee held at a dangerously perilous angle. With each step, the brown liquid sloshes over the brim of the cup, splashing him and his documents. It’s clearly hot because when it makes contact, he winces.
To top it off, he’s slower than a sloth.
Granted, if I wasn’t so stressed, it might not have bothered me. After all, it was almost like observing the offspring of a gnome and a businessman, and how often does one see that?
[Read more…]
Driving Prosperity
Note: Over the last short while, I’ve received amazing feedback on my previous pieces about the path on which I find myself in rebuilding my faith and prosperity. I’m touched and humbled because, although I always aim to be transparent, these last few have been extremely personal and I was nervous about sharing. Your feedback has been reassuring; moreover I’m amazed by how many people feel the same. This column brings that journey to a stop sign — at least as far as things stand today. Thank you for coming along.
With that as backstory, we have two cars.
One was a 1997 Pontiac Sunfire; a low-end economy car with 122,000 miles. People oft-times are shocked when they hear I possess an 18-year-old auto with so few miles. They are thrown further back on their heels upon learning our second car, which is 19 years old, has merely 75,000 miles. (I joke that it still has its original tires.) What can I say? We walk a lot, and as you might remember, until a car hit me a few years ago, I rode my bike a great deal. In addition, we are loyal, not quick to discard that which is still usable.
Yet, driving to clients in a peeling grunting, clanking, banging automobile which wheezed and creaked more than a dilapidated, broken-down, gasping pipe organ not only gave me great concerns about safety, but — as vain as it may sound — didn’t fit the image I want to portray. Bottom line was I needed (and wanted) a new car. It was time. The problem is that in the last almost-two decades, the technology of cars has improved significantly. Yet, despite that, no one has figured out how to remove car payments. Sigh…