Thursday, May 17, 2018

Lies

I've read that 40% of Mr. Trump’s supporters don’t care that he lies. The underlying question is when did not telling the truth become acceptable to the forty percent. If they accept that their president can lie, with support, then they must also lie themselves and to themselves.

That leaves 60% of those supporters do care. Bravo!

Telling the truth has been ingrained in American social structure since the beginning of our republic.

All people, supporters, and non-supporters can deal with the truth as the benchmark of discernment. Truth advances understanding. Lies advance myth and mistrust. All of us, supporters and detractors, are defrauded by lies and deluded by fact-less statements.

Lies make life's choices a delusion. Truth makes life difficult, uncomfortable, vulnerable and embarrassing, but cleansing. Who hasn’t felt better after admitting to a lie?

It’s not only that Mr. Trump lies all the time, but it's also that he’s the president. The president is the beacon to the world for what America stands.

Tell the truth, Mr. President. Forgiveness is an abundant trait in our diverse America.




Tuesday, May 15, 2018

Warning The Moon

I’ve been around a long time on this planet of choice. I’ve made many decisions some of which I’ve regretted and some of whom I sustain. They are my decisions, and I own them.

What I see today are numerous decisions and statements made by people in power and people who want control where they deny ownership of caustic statements or significant choices because they wait to see the effect it creates.

Is it leadership? No! It’s pandering to the innate ignorance of the citizenry who rightfully care more about their needs and wants than what the rest of the nation is doing. Saying something that disparages a cause or a principle that the average citizen believes is hurting his family, and you’ve got support. The consequences be hanged because few will do the diligence to extrapolate the result generations hence.

It wasn’t always that way. The five tribes of the Iroquois nation had a phenomenal system of government. Benjamin Franklin marveled at it. Major decisions affecting the alliance were always carried to seven generations and then the decision was made.

One time, back in the 1970’s when man was going to the moon, a reporter approached the chiefs of the Onondaga tribe in Syracuse, New York and asked what they thought about a man landing on the moon.

The chiefs gathered the elders and other chiefs and met in council for several days and called the reporter back to ask a question.

Did he know of any way they could warn the moon?


Monday, May 14, 2018

(Applause) Author, Author!

Now is the time for all of us to think beyond our limited creative thoughts and see the grandest vision for ourselves that was always there and waiting, but was hidden behind the ego’s fog of reality.

The Divine gift of experiential growth and unlimited personal discovery is a vision of more than we can imagine for we are blinded by the illusions of and in life. If we let go of the expectation and the fear of what we might see, we will see the real and be it.

The energy of free choice is emblazoned and encased within our spiritual spheres and human forms and harmonizes with the vibration of what we indeed are. The light of our spirit projects upon the screen of life. A result is a constant act of growth. Perhaps our earth play title might be, “The Art of Experience.” Produced by the All That Is and starring “Us.”

All plays have a star; life is no different. We make up the lines, the plot and the action of choice as we go along.

There is a beginning – birth. A middle - growth and a constant continuation of rising and falling action, but never an end. In the final act of life, the plot starts to blur, and no one but the divine thought knows the conclusion. Most of us have not yet decided what it is to be.

Such is the unconditional love of the divine playwright.

Friday, May 11, 2018

The Squall

      It was a gray sky, then dark and darker as the squall line approached my small river valley. It spilled over a distant ridge with flashes of light and the echoes of thunder. The wind and rain started intermittently and slowly increased in intensity.

      The cherry blossoms outside my window felt the rain first. Each blossom bounced and shook as raindrops hit them from above. The rain pounced. Each blossom was becoming a pink faucet in a surreal painting from Dali.

      Within a few minutes, it ended. The sun popped underneath the passing clouds. Golden light sparkled through the diamond drops that lingered on the leaves and grasses. Each drop, a value of several karats of refracted light; a Tiffany of brilliance.

     It stayed for awhile; then cat-like dusk stalked across the sky. It was like opening a decorated and colorfully wrapped package to see a dull brown box below.

     Dusk is an apt name for the light of a settings sun. It could be called dimming, or waning or dulling, but dusk works as the light fades below the horizon.

     Finally a red sky-fire flare for a moment or two and then twilight to memory. Part of me wanted to rage against the dying of the light, as the poet suggested, but that’s another light for another time.

     This light will be back in just a few hours to start all over again and again.

     It’s truly a lesson of life if we choose to see it.

Thursday, May 10, 2018

My Day

The dichotomy of life yesterday.

I sat on the front porch watching a house Wren move in an out of her rafter-safe nest and then settle down to hatch her family. It was wonderful.

I came inside where the television was on, and I heard about President Trump’s lawyer touting his closeness to the President and why companies should hire him. I listened and then left.

I went outside to the back deck. I had cleaned it from winter’s debris and dusted off the cushions, placed them on the appropriate chairs and sofa. It was now a pleasant place to be with nature. Three stories below me, on the three-acre meadow, four deer came to nibble the sprouting grasses and emerging leaves. The oneness was exquisite.

The phone rang, and inside I went. The television was still on. President Trump was upset about what he calls negative coverage and threatens to revoke press credentials.

I went back outside and remembered that a free press was created by our founding fathers to protect the governed, not those who govern.

I said out loud to the trees, to the flora and other fauna and to all the creatures who could hear me. “What has happened to America?”

For a short time, all of nature was silent.


Wednesday, May 9, 2018

Military Academies


I won't be there next week when West Point graduates toss their hats in the air, but I was there years ago to see the pomp and celebration of four years of accomplishment for the young men and women of West Point. I have also lectured at the Air Force Academy and was impressed with the collective as well as the individual dedication of the cadets and instructors.

All of the service academies graduations engender a spectacular ceremony that wells with emotion and precipitates deep patriotic pride and a foreboding bellicose prognostication.

Pride because these new spirits of the American dream have spent hard physical and mental hours over the last four years to honor their goal of education and service and commitment to the everlasting ideals of America. The bellicose possibilities exist because many of these men and women West Point graduates will be heading to Iraq or Afghanistan as platoon leaders and officers in the field of war. It is their destiny determined by the times.

When we send our men and women into battle, we think of them as warriors, as skilled fighters, as cohesive units trained to win. They are that and so much more for no matter where they are the dichotomy of a trained soldier and the tenderness of a human being is present.

I have seen pictures from the AP and from Reuters that shows American soldiers at their best. I’ve seen a soldier on patrol, weapon at the ready, kneeling for a moment to pet a kitten. I’ve seen a soldier teaching a little Arab boy to slap a five. A smile on all their faces is a lasting victory. I’ve seen a soldier, maybe a father himself, sitting on the ground cradling a wounded child in his arms.

You can have the best technology to fight a war, but you also must have the best of heart to win one.

Tuesday, May 8, 2018

Spring's Surprise



Yesterday I sat in an easy chair on the back deck. Spring zephyrs nudged the newly leafed trees to wiggle and stretched the winter kinks out of their limbs and branches. I felt a sense of peace in my conscience meditation.

My muse was present too.

Springs Surprise
©2018 Rolland G. Smith

Do we not know they are like us;
Our friends the trees of many kinds.
Why is it man will just not trust
The truths we know within our minds.

Each tree and we are part of all
As we each grow within the light.
Our seasons too bring both a fall
When spirit's colors last ignite.

I love the newness of the green
As leaves arrive in early spring.
Their blossoms too are clearly seen
With scents of sweetness that they bring.

Yet trees and man are oft alike
Each standing strong against life's storm
But trees each year will change their haik
As man relearns his spirit's norm.

In my peaceful state of mind, I reminded myself that all is as it should be as we spiritual beings housed in a material body experience the growth of situations, conditions, and outcomes that we create. What a marvelous gift the All That Is has given us.

We create our experiences, but we deny we own them, so we blame our situations on someone or something else, or we create rules or doctrines or dogma that eliminate our authorship and say this is the way to believe.  Thus our responsibility for negative thoughts and their subsequent manifestations pass into the night of illusion. I think it's changing and we are seeing that we are the creators of our condition and that if we want to change it...change our minds.

 
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