Thank you for Tears and La-cry-mation

•November 13, 2015 • Leave a Comment

Originally posted on LEA KELLEY SAYING THANK YOU FOR...:

Crocodiles don’t really cry.

The one in Rudyard Kipling’s story was just pretending.

Maybe elephants cry, maybe chimpanzees, maybe harp seals, or other vertebrates do cry.

I have seen some animals exercise their tear ducts. At the time, I was almost certain it was associated with more than eye washing, but I can not know because they could not tell me.

Most scientists say that humans are the only animals that cry “emotional” tears.

They probably never had a dog.

And they definitely didn’t see that documentary about elephants returning to burial grounds, probably never heard a baby mammal that was separated from it’s mother either.

Again, I can not know.

Humans definitely cry. (well, most of us)

It amazes me how that works.

Sometimes I cry for no good reason. It just sneaks up on me.

Once, I was sitting in the second row of an auditorium listening to Tibetan…

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Thank you for Dialogue vs. Diatribe and The Futilitarian Society

•October 7, 2015 • 3 Comments

Imagine going to a play where all the actors on the stage—about a hundred of them— were delivering monologues simultaneously.

No interaction between them, all concentrating on their own voices, no dialogue back and forth, just a loud drone of human voices aimed at the audience.

Which one would the audience hear?

How about if the audience participated by starting up their own individual monologues, directed at the stage?

Now, place yourself between the stage and the audience of escalating voices, face the exit door, and scream “I am all alone!”

Let’s call this exercise The Futiliarian Society game.

A society is based on cooperation. Cooperation takes communication.

Communication does not happen on a one way street.

It sometimes seems we are moving into a social neighborhood of one way streets, where very few people ever face each other and wave acknowledgment to one another.

Dialogue is becoming a lost art, replaced by a myriad of diatribes pouring from the mouths of those who are entitled to their opinions, their perceptions, their right to express whatever they see as their own personal truth—no matter the limitation of their view of the world.

I am part of this evolving neighborhood.

I think therefore I blog.

When I blog, I blog alone.

My internal dialogue is limited to a severe lack of debate, exploration external to my own existence, and any resistance to ill formed opinions based on a view from one facet of a very complex diamond—the diamond of Humanity.

I have recently been inspired by a legitimate conversation, in person, with other sentient humans, to ponder the need for authentic dialogue in my own evolution.

I fear an inevitable loneliness that will render me stupid with the advent of technologies that purport to make me more informed.

I fear an isolation that separates me from my fellow humans by replacing them with smoke filled mirrors of sound bytes, ad campaigns, and twittering chirps of waning language skills.

The irony that I am relating these fears, expressing these thoughts on a blog as opposed to running into the street and hugging someone until they speak to me is not beyond me.

I am thankful for the internet and amazed at the connections that have rescued people from a particular kind of isolation.

I am thankful for the information available to those who might otherwise remain in the dark.

And I am wondering today, how to say hello on a one way street toward a futilitarian society that will ignite a dialogue toward exploring all sides of a beautiful diamond while actually holding it in our hands.

Thank You For the Non-Zero-Sum and Getting What You Need

•August 2, 2015 • Leave a Comment

Originally posted on LEA KELLEY SAYING THANK YOU FOR...:

Game theory, the mathematical theory which can be applied to behaviors, strategic situations, economics, social sciences, and a lot of other situations that one wouldn’t consider to have anything to do with math, explains the zero-sum game concept. 

Zero sum game can be described as a situation in which one person’s gain is another person’s loss. 

No matter how much of something you start with, it all comes down to zero after you pass it around and distribute it into “Haves” and “Have Nots”.

The premise being there’s only so much to go around and it gets competitively passed back and forth in a win/lose scenario for all participants involved until there’s a zero balance left on the table, in the relationship, in the grain silo, on the cake plate, or the planet, for that matter. 

I don’t like the part about the losers.

Game theory is actually far more…

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Thank You for the Marathon of Life and The Sprint Runner

•July 2, 2015 • Leave a Comment

Originally posted on LEA KELLEY SAYING THANK YOU FOR...:

I look athletic, but I’m not.

It’s just genetics, not endurance or discipline or anything I did on purpose.

But if Life was a metaphoric action sport, I would be all about Track and Field, not a long, steady marathon.

I like the multiple options of pole vaulting over obstacles, sprint running past drama fires, long jumping into creative endeavors, and…  throwing an occasional discus when I have an olympic tantrum about my lack of endurance for tedious marathons when I need a nap.

Life is short and the defined perimeters of one competitive marathon can consume a whole lifetime before we get to the finish line.

And seriously, who wants to get there sooner and steadier?

Marathons are about endurance;

Endurance: noun, the  power of enduring an unpleasant or difficult process or situation without giving way : the capacity of something to last or to withstand wear…

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Thank You for Important Messy People

•July 1, 2015 • Leave a Comment

Originally posted on LEA KELLEY SAYING THANK YOU FOR...:

Some folks believe that cluttered desks and messy spaces are indicative of a spontaneous, over achieving person who accomplishes more when surrounded by chaos.

Einstien had a notoriously messy desk.

But that’s like saying a Zen monestary invites dullards and sloths.

I’m no Einstein.

Too much clutter inhibits my creative faculties.

Nor am I a Monk.

But I can concentrate better when my environment is clutter free.

Some people say “ I don’t have time to clean my house, I have too many other things to do with my time.”

I have seen this in action and believe it to be true.

Often that time is used looking for keys, trying to find a clean cup for their coffee, apologizing to guests for lack of available seating, moving things around to find other things they need, and mumbling I know it’s here somewhere while a friend is being held hostage, waiting…

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Thank You for Non Light Beings, Einstein, and Bob Marley

•June 6, 2015 • Leave a Comment

Originally posted on LEA KELLEY SAYING THANK YOU FOR...:

I am frequently amazed at how things change when they are placed in a different light—including people.

Light travels at 186,000 miles per second.

It’s generated by electromagnetic waves, or vibrations of magnetic and electric fields.

Then, those little guys inside atoms, you know, the protons, the electrons, and the neutrons, pick up the vibrations like they are at a Bob Marley concert.

They get all excited and start dancin’ around until one of ‘em—usually an electron—gets knocked off the dance floor and starts makin’ a scene as they try to find the center again.

Light doesn’t need anything or anybody for it to exist, it just is.

It simply rides the vibes and travels around, bonkin’ us in the retina and makin’ a seen.

Some folks seem like they don’t need anybody else to exist.

They appear to be independent and not effected by the vibrations…

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Thank You for Religious Revelations and the Scientific Minds of Children

•March 16, 2015 • Leave a Comment

When I was in fourth grade I had not been exposed to much religion yet. A little girl on the playground told me “Jesus takes care of little children”. Her name was Carla Phillips and she was evidently practicing to marry a minister, or be one, or was being raised by one. I can’t know. But she told me about praying and how prayers would come true.

Her statement hit me like I had just discovered gold.

I was the oldest of four and I believed that I was the one who had to take care of my little brothers in a very challenging home environment with a sick mother and an absent father. So this news was quite a relief. I was excited to get home and test the theory.

I walked through the door and gathered my three little brothers around (my mother was typically sleeping during most days).

“Hey you guys, guess what? You’re not gonna believe this, but Carla Phillips says there’s a guy named Jesus who will take care of us if we pray, and she showed me how to do it!”

They had some questions that I couldn’t answer, but reluctantly, they followed my instructions about the praying part— just in case.

So we all got down on our knees, just like Carla Phillips had said we should. I lined us up in a row next the radiator that heated our living room.

I kept Mikey next to me so he wouldn’t squirm and scare Jesus away (He was only three).

There we were, four kids ages 3, 6, 7, and 8, with our hands clasped together, faces near the floor, and butts in the air, next to the radiator like it was the holy mecca of magically appearing people we had never heard of.

I prayed out loud so my brothers would know what we were supposed to be praying for.

I had explained beforehand that we had to believe in the guy because this magic had something to do with “faith”.

“Dear Jesus”, I guess I thought praying was like writing a letter to a stranger, “If you are really there, and Carla Phillips is telling the truth, please make a loaf of bread appear on top of the heater when we open our eyes.” I waited for a moment and added, “Thank you if this is true.”

We stayed there, with our butts in the air, and our eyes squeezed shut, for a few more seconds to give the Jesus guy time to sneak the loaf of bread onto the top of the radiator.

Then I opened my eyes, looked on top of the radiator, and nudged the boys into getting off the floor.

“Never mind you guys, Carla Phillips lied”, I said matter of factly, “There ain’t no guy named Jesus, and there ain’t no loaf of bread on the heater.”

I tested the Carla Phillip’s theory a few times later, when my brothers were not present, but always the same result.

Thank you, Carla Phillips, for trying to give me some faith.

I found my own version decades later.

Yesterday, I was helping some friends, Linda and Dave, in the garden. Rye grass seed was being scattered by one of them, and a few of the seeds landed on the deck. I made a joke about them magically sprouting into a loaf of rye bread overnight.

This morning, I was sitting on the patio and the same friend who scattered the rye grass seed, put a loaf of rye bread on the table.

I burst into tears and laughter simultaneously.

Maybe a loaf of bread can appear from seedling prayers. Jesus took a while, and he looked a lot like my friend, Dave, but I  know now, that manifestation of one’s destiny is a journey of faith. And faith can come when you least expect it—with a sense of humor.


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