AMBIGUITY of the KARMA

This month a few things happened that were hard to swallow but the Burtons are all good so don't worry. Last night someone told me that karma will take care of the rest. I didn't disagree but it isn't a place I can hang my hat either.

Is there such a thing as karma or is that just easier to pronounce and digest than reticular activator? It's not as sexy but the reality is that your brain fires off a hefty 'pay attention' chemical signal when you see something that you can relate to. You have a new car and suddenly that car is everywhere because you are amenable to seeing it like never before. Why not credit your experiences and awareness rather than a mystical theory? A grip on this neurological function will activate the supposed law of attraction more so than the actual universe ever could.

By any account or by whatever system of belief you would like to attribute the results if you are going to really commit to being a miserable, mean Jackass it's likely that bad things will keep 'happening' to you. If something good rolls down the mountain you won't be open to it so your list of gripes and negative pile of crap will thrive and grow like a fungus fed by your state of wretchedness.

It takes a boatload of conviction when times are tough but if you can, be the bigger person and craft ray of sunshine even if all of the sky above you is cloud. You won't spark a chain of immediate events but when a shiny ray finally breaks through you will be far more likely to notice it. You will also start to perceive when others lack this self awareness and you can begin to protect and surround yourself with the energy you actually desire.

15th BIRTHDAY of the PRINCE POOCH

The day was fateful for a young girl with no belief in fate. It was hot and summery and my dear friend had just adopted the girl baby from your modest litter of two. He said "Al, you have to meet this tiny guy" and so I did. How Mike had longed for a dog to add to our crowded downtown apartment and how I protested, reeling about smart decisions and how at that point in our lives goldfish didn't even make sense.  Freshly co-habitated, both enlisted in post secondary education and both working full time. Where would a pet fit in? We were saving $20 a shift for books and tuition and dreaming of a backyard. The day might come for additional pack members but in mid 1998 we just weren't there yet.  

All reservations were meaningless because there you were. All four months and five pounds of you. Locked in a box and jumping on a shih-tzu puppy. Giving her the gears although she was triple your size. You were all fierce and fiery.  A rocket box of attitude, speed and pride. My friend was coming for you. He said you were too cool not to add to his pile of five pooches.  Characteristically cynical I told him he was mental for picking up every pup that looked cute in a collar. They called you Taco. They asked me if I wanted to hold you. The minute we touched it was on. You fit so perfectly in the fold of my arm. We made eye contact, you licked my nose. You passed out in my charge and that crazy tongue fell out of your overbite of a face announcing decisive submission. It was done. I melted to your will. I teared. I was yours. 

Just one other time did I meet a boy and knew in an instant that he would be at my side until forces beyond our control pulled us apart. Never once have I had to question you two on your elevated levels of loyalty, trust and intention. Always almost too good to be true and all at once encircled by two boys capable of love I never knew could shine so brightly in my direction. Didn't imagine that a girl could be so lucky to have a husband who understands why he ties for first with my teeny, tiny boyfriend. My miniature shadow. We both know you never really fell for Mike the way you fell for me that special summer day in 1998.  
Most girls have families that look very different from mine. I know my household isn't typical and I've been told on more than one occasion that I'm missing out on a love I can't understand by not having a baby. I don't take offense. It is all true although my preference without ignorance is for the life I have chosen. I equally attest to anyone with the space in your life for the ego and unflinching love of a Chihuahua that if you haven't got one you will never know this kind of love. I join in your chant that until you have shared your life in this way you can't know what you are missing.

Now though, on this day, the Birthday of my beloved petite boyfriend I wonder how much time we really have left. We have big plans. Eat some grapes, have a bit of cheese, take what is now a fraction of the walk we used to beat out. I have fashioned you yet another cute outfit.  I recognize the wonder of how every single day of these 15 years has really been your gift to me. Thank you for picking me. Thank you for every time you slowed, brightened and warmed my heart too often paced in a pessimistic and busy rhythm.

I adore you unabashedly. As much as Mike is my one and only, you will always be the canine love of my life. AB

 

 

 

CULTIVATION of the DREAMS

It's all well and good to say "follow your dreams" but let's be serious, you have to pay your bills.  If you don't see your name on the top of the bill I question your level of dependence and hope you are under the age of majority.

If I see one more post of this Watts "all wretch and no vomit" video on how we are punishing the next generation with forced education and expectations to live a consumer lifestyle that suggests we should all just concentrate on our favourite hobbies and see if we can master them... I might wretch myself.



Agreed there are sad and serious holes in the current North American daydream but it isn't the actual ability to dream that should be cause for concern. It is the silly notion that dreams are all you need and that if you just dream hard enough they will all come true.   Why the busted and blind belief that all children are above average and that they should never have to work hard or do things they don't want to do?  Every moment of your life should feel like a fat ball of cotton candy?

I don't mean to disrespect inspiration. Inspiration is the first step to a glowing entrepreneurial spirit or a desire to help others. I only mean to say that life is not but a dream. It is what you make it and there is no amount of fuzzy fabulous dreaming that will replace hard work and the rewards that only come from sacrifice.

The dreamiest feeling is your head on the pillow at the end of a day where you have completely supported yourself and you are the master of your own honestly earned life.

Sure it would be lovely to consider what a world without commerce would be like but get real.  Humans are pack animals and even Neanderthals quickly learned to trade. Take away all of the paper money and you still need to find a way to be of service and value to your fellow man or you will have to depend solely on their kindness to merely survive.

So dreamers: how exactly are you going to pay for your hiking boots, parachute and scuba gear?  Clue: Richard Branson built a company first and focused on island life and space exploration a little while later.

AB