Thank You Family/Source Engergy Comes from Everywhere/THANK YOU WENDY

Dad died today. He is no longer in pain. For that, I am grateful. Those of us left are dealing with this as we are. I decided today would would be a great time to push a family issue with my brother. I am still in the anger stage, I guess. This was a mistake and I will have to apologize to him for it. I will not apologize merely because I picked a fight while we are both devastated at the loss of our father this morning (Dad died on his own birthday) but also because when I do anything that is not in alignment with Source, my stomach hurts and I am no longer very effective in being of service in the way the Boss would use me that day. Sorry brother. Sorry Nat. Apology on the way.

I was ready to beg my professor and university for an Incomplete this morning. This would have been "old Jack" behavior but I simply could not anticipate writing academic essays and a research paper this week while I keep flashing on the torture my Dad, his wife, us kids, and many others endured. Dad had the worst of it, of course. However, he is free now and he suffered horribly but not for as long as some do.

This evening I was lying in bed and thinking I should just get that incomplete even though my professor has been very understanding and I have worked hard to get the A I currently own. Still, I wanted to take some time off and finish up after I had the opportunity to meditate, visit with Dad on the astral plane, and watch some really bad films on a streaming movie service I use. I also thought I would use that time to reach out to Dad's wife, our relatives, and spend some life-affirming time with my nieces and nephews. I have found that when my cup is empty, time with my nephew, older niece, and younger niece fills that cup up. Then I have something to give to my friends, my friend with Alzheimer's, and the guys who ram their cart into mine in line at the grocery. Also, I figured I could use this time to apologize for the fight I picked with my brother earlier in the day.

Just as I was ready to blow off tonight's coursework and take the hit point-wise, I received a call from one of my cousins. We talked about my Dad (of course) but somehow God put words in her mouth that made me feel like I COULD keep going with school and that Dad would want this for me. After our call, I got out of bed (or off of futon to be more accurate) and I wrote my assignment. I have written better assignments but I am amazed that this one was written at all. Since Dad's illness progressed and then overtook him, I have had difficulty finding the energy to do things like urinate or order pizza (I KNOW so STOP), or to organize my collection of stamps from countries whose names begin with the letter "R". You should see my Romania book! Wow! Okay, I made up that part about my stamp collection. I wanted to feel charismatic and interesting for a moment.

What follows is the paper I just submitted as a direct result of God working through a flesh and blood person (my cousin). This is not my best work. The miracle here is not that I created a great work of art. The miracle is that I wrote SOMETHING. Thank you Dad, thank you source, thank you Wendy, sorry Marty and Nat---

Since many fellow learners have already discussed the differences between the concepts of fluid and crystallized intelligences, I will not re-define these terms/concepts. I will refer to them as statements of fact since fellow learners have written extensively and have provided impressive information and have cited references concerning these different categories of intelligence.

Our journey through developmental stages has finally arrived at my destination. This is where I get off. I know the shops and the street because this is where I live. At 47, I am a middle adult. I would prefer that someone come up with a more interesting and marketable name for those of us who fit in this category; perhaps something like “inordinately average adults with marked displays of wisdom”. Unfortunately, that phrase has a bit too much glitter and fireworks. So yes, I am a middle adult and I have experienced some of the cognitive changes we have read about this week.

First, I am a little slow. Apparently this is not an uncommon manifestation of cognitive withering among middle adults. Schaie (1996, as cited in Crandell, Crandell, & Vander Zanden, 2009) performed and reported on a series of tests intended to isolate intelligence ability. Although many aspects of intelligence were studied, it was found that middle adults demonstrated a slowing of performance in only one area: speed of performance.

This supports my anecdotal and personal experience in the work place. Younger workers were much faster than those of us whose age places us in the middle adult category. The younger folks were able to input data faster. They could toggle more quickly between various software systems. They even made decisions a bit quicker as to what they would eat for lunch. In other words, their fluid intelligence gave them the ability to make quicker decisions and perform some job-related tasks more efficiently.

This fluidity provided younger coworkers a clear edge during annual reviews and allowed them to impress mangers with their apparently superior ability to demonstrate “sense of urgency” which was always an extremely important phrase used by most managers I have had. I assume this skill also allows younger adults to decide on which movie to choose a bit faster while on dates and enables them to text faster while the movie is playing. This apparent surplus of fluid skills probably makes it easier to respond to the needs of children more quickly while simultaneously doing laundry, coursework, and other duties which should be performed by each member of a couple regardless of sex. That issue should be the subject of another essay.

Secondly, I look to history and poorly documented websites for evidence of how middle (and older) adults can use the experience that comes with age to produce great works of art; the kinds of works that younger, less-experienced (albeit more “fluid”)  younger adults cannot produce. Crandell, Crandell, and Vander Zanden (2009) provide me with some hope in this regard (as long as I focus on the latter part of their comments) regarding expert performance when they write “…in novel writing, history, and philosophy the optimal ages are in the forties and fifties” (p. 510). As a budding author and life-long fan of philosophy, this does give me some advantages both in the work place and at home. For one thing, I write great emails to managers. These notes are well-structured, poetic, and also professional. Additionally, I use this concept of "the middle adult maintaining expert performance skills" each time I dust off or move my novel (rather slowly) from one drawer to another. We all exhibit various levels of proficiency in cognitive skill regardless of where we fall along the path of the life span.

I tend to prefer giving in-depth analysis on studies which emphasize that while middle adults may not be able to input data or decide on the film for the evening as quickly or efficiently as our younger acquaintances or coworkers, we may have an advantage when it comes to understanding and producing works of literature and treatises on philosophy. At least this is something. Family relationships improve in that while I may text my family members very slowly, what I have to say may be of some philosophical, historical, or artistic merit. Jack

References

Crandell, T. L., Crandell, C. H., & Vander Zanden, J. W. (2009). Human development (9th ed.). Boston: McGraw-Hill Higher Education. ISBN: 9780073370422.

Mumbling To Myself As the Death Watch Continues

LIFE GOES ON

My father has had terminal cancer for about a year ( I think). Now the cancer is winning. Very soon, I will no longer be able to call my once-estranged father to ask him how the pond is looking, how many fish he caught, or what he is watching on television. Somehow, Source allowed me to stop calling him (my Mom, my brother, my sister, and one Lemon Choice Brockstin III [whom I first dialed by accident and then on purpose], my Aunt Nanie, and a few others) to ask for money. I am sure that Dad (and the others just mentioned inside parentheses eerily similar to the ones that cage this astonishing sentence)  are as glad to not receive these calls as I am to not make them.

My cell phone is placed on vibrate when I lay down to sleep. Not these days. Basically, I want to know when the pain is over for Dad. He has not been Ward Cleaver and I have not been Wally. So what? I have been forgiven for many more things than  I have (or will ever) forgive. I think of that as the manifestation of the grace that comes from Source.

I forgave my Dad for a host of issues which were caused by genetics, DNA, genetic predisposition, alcoholism, having a controlling and wicked asshole for a father, and being exposed to the chemical equivalent of the stuff that created the Toxic Avenger every day for decades as he slaved away at achieving the American Dream in a stinking, hot, factory. Also, I could have been a little bit less weird when I was a kid. Dad would have liked that.

Thank God for my brother. He was the son Dad always wanted and who wouldn't? Thank God for my sister. She is probably the one human being who taught Dad all of the things that St. Dennis Catholic Church failed to teach him, you know--- THE IMORTANT STUFF!

I feel honored that my sister, my brother, my mother, my Aunt Nanie, and my sweet Mamaw signed on to be living angels for some of us who really needed to evolve. My Dad became a living angel, also. His heart was pure. He worked hard to help people. He is leaving this world without anyone hating him. He is leaving with the knowledge of the power of forgiveness from both sides of that sacred and holy experience.

BE AWARE: WORDS OF WISDOM OR REGURGITATION OF SOMEONE ELSE'S REAL WORLDS OF WISDOM AHEAD!!!

 Just in case you don't know this: Forgiveness is the SHIT!

Forgiving is like taking a shower from the inside out. It is freedom and it does not matter if the person we forgive deserves it or not.

Being forgiven is like someone giving you the key to a prison cell that you have built for yourself with bricks of selfishness or unenlightened actions . When you are forgiven (especially if you don't "deserve it"), you remember why you were in that prison cell for so long. If you have the cognitive ability to truly appreciate the experience, the knowingness that comes with being forgiven is like looking up and seeing the sheer power and beauty of a full moon or looking into the face of brand new little baby: it is hope, joy, resolve, and gratitude. The flickering light inside begins to glow brighter and it doesn't flicker so much---unless of course the demons that live in our abdomens and were implanted there by the Lord, or Satan or one of THOSE guys lets loose with a big fart and then the light flickers again. Fortunately, this does not happen that often.

All I know this morning is: I love my Dad, his wife, all my nieces and nephews, my family, and I hate nobody. I am a tad focused on the pain my Dad is in and I hope he passes soon. He is cashed and he knows it. I look forward to the night Dad comes to me in a dream with fishing gear. He will flash that smile at me: the one he had before life, alcoholism, and daily exposure to toxic chemicals at his job took so much of the joy out of it. I am sure it will be like the smile he had when he mustered the last of his strength to get on a stage at the end of his life and hit those high notes he had not been able to pull off for decades. That kind of smile. And he will just look at me and say "Well, I don't know if we'll do any good but lets try her". In this dream, Dad will let me catch more fish than he does. That'll be a new one!

Peace. Light. Love------Namaste for now. So mote it be.

ONE LAST THING

I am coming for you Kitchen Kompact of Jeffersonville, Indiana. You built your Valhalla golf course with those you poisoned and killed. They were your happy slaves. At times, you portrayed yourselves as being good masters. However, I am here. Unfortunately for you (and for me) I have not yet ascended to the top of some mountain in glowing saffron robes.

 There will be no violence against you or anyone in your company.

Gonna go you one better.

I am going to get the names and medical records of every human being who died as the result of the cancerous stuff that filled that big torture room you called a factory. Think class action lawsuit. Think Love Canal.

You will sell that golf course (if you didn't already sell it and invest in Haliburton or Lockeed-Martin). You (or your heirs or your board of directors) will file bankruptcy. That will be a little embarrassing on Derby Day when you are swilling Mint Juleps in your sky box.

You'll barely notice, however, and you will sleep well every night until you stare into the void my Dad is staring into tonight. That will happen when some of the cells in your body decide even they are not immune to the chemical damage they suffered while you bravely walked out onto the factory floor to show the workers that you were like them. You bastards.

Someone from the family who owns that place is going to be forced to sit at a table and watch a slide presentation of what your chemicals and your production process did to the brains, livers, stomachs, skin, bones, and other organs of your happy slaves. And you will have to stare into the eyes of the broken and the sad. Then you will write them all nice fat checks which I hope they will use to hold other companies accountable for what you have done and continue to do. My father forgave you long ago and he mistook your "kind" gestures as genuine although I know you were just covering your asses. Peace and Light to you----and remember that when cancer or some other disease breaks YOU, you will get your chance to make it right. God bless you and may your lawyers protect you from financial devastation until you finally understand what God, or blessing, or forgiveness mean.

Broken Father/Breaking Family/Some Unbroken Thoughts

I am on death watch tonight. My father is dying in his home in Kentucky and I am unable to be there. His body has been broken by cancer and his organs are shutting down: one at a time, like someone shutting off each light in some ordained sequence at a sports venue. His wife and my family are breaking, as all families break, when a loved one is passing over. 

This is part of the human experience. I did not sign on for this part but then again, nobody asked me to give my approval to this last part of life on this plane. I voted for eternal life on this earth and healthy bodies for all of us which last forever.

My thoughts, positive vibrations, and support are with Dad, his wife, and the rest of our family. I am intentionally diverting my personal pain and my nearly constant awareness of my Dad's pain as he undergoes this final torture on this plane of existence. Love you Dad! Go unafraid and unapologetic to the light that does not judge or condemn or demand praise and songs of its glorification. I am with you and so are your other kids, your wife, and many others. Get on the plane and have a beer, out of pain, and without regret. I love you.

WHAT I THINK

1. Life does not end with the ending of this body

2. There is no celestial deity with a chalkboard keeping score.

3. Well-intentioned prayers that people be healed are nice and come from some gentle loving souls. However, God does not sit on his golden throne while some heavenly score keeper tracks the number of incoming prayers for someone to be healed. When the right number of prayers are tabulated, there is no buzzer that echoes through Heaven. God does not roll his eyes and say "Well, that last prayer from Tupelo Mississipi put Mrs. Jones over the top. I really wanted to kill her but now I guess I have to wait. The good people have spoken!" As Wayne Dyer and many others say "God is not a withholding God."

4. Energy, including soul energy, is never created or destroyed. It is merely transformed. To pass to the next phase of this amazing journey does not require the stamp of approval by a Pope, a preacher, a gate-keeper, or a committee of spiritually superior human beings. Moving on to the next phase is a guarantee and is not tied to taking Jesus Christ as your personal savior, making the right number of payments to charities, or dragging enough old ladies across the road whether they want to go or not.

5. Christ, Buddha, Mother Theresa, and the homeless person under the nearest overpass all have lessons to teach us. Their words, their lives, and their spirits are letters from God. Some of these (the Christ, Budha etc) manifested here directly from the creative Source intelligence to show us what God is and what we can be when we are in alignment with God. There is no punishment for being out of alignment. Life just kinda sucks when we are. Also, sentient beings (I include our furry friends and all the plants and animals we share this earth with in this) are here to teach us something and they deserve love and to be able to give us the love they have. Note: I know this and know I am a hypocrite because I eat some of these animals and many of these plants. I am still evolving. AND I am okay with that and so is my Creator.

6. When we start down the path toward enlightenment and find our passion, we are given the opportunity to find our unique path of service. To be of service and remain unattached to the outcome is the ultimate realization as humans of the God within us. I stole this from Wayne Dyer's "Power of Intention".

7. I did not manifest any of the words or thoughts in 1 - 6. As the Bible says "There is nothing new under the sun".

8. Dogma is not beneficial to spiritual growth. Buildings are no better at invoking love or God's presence than forests or filthy alleys. Religious laws can be beautiful and comforting but they become tainted as man sullies them with politics, greed, corruption, self-glorification, and institutionalized judgment of who is right and who is wrong and who is going to get wings and who is going to burn and who is going to get 13 virgins and who is going to get the shaft.

9. God does not choose sides in wars or football games. Sometimes (think WWII), we may be forced, regretfully, to use force to stop the unevolved from carrying out horror. But no death on a battle field should be celebrated. Each death caused by a nation, even if the cause is just (and this is rare) should be somber and all involved should feel sad that diplomacy and understanding failed. A battlefield is a funeral, not a football field. God does not have a favorite country or a favorite beer, either.

A Couple of Awesome Quotes

"Man was made for joy and woe;

And when this we rightly know;

Through the world we safely go.

Joy and Woe are woven fine.

Clothing for the soul divine"-William Blake 

"Fill your bowl to the brim

and it will spill.

Keep sharpening your knife

and it will blunt.

Chase after money and security

and your heart will never unclench.

Care about people's approval

and you will be their prisoner.

Do your work, then step back.

The only path to Serenity."

-tao te ching, translation by Stephen Mitchell (1988)