http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rv7NWjUyHug
I love that the link has 'Hug' on the end of it...........
Showing posts with label Attitude. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Attitude. Show all posts
There's that soap box!
How many of us would include "make the world a different place" on their bucket list? Why would anyone want to invest their time, money and efforts into something that may not see a result until after they're gone? It is a test of conscience, a testament to the greatness of the human spirit, the one thing that sets us apart from every other living creature on this earth.
With every reason to be selfish, it is now socially acceptable to think only of yourself. As we move farther and farther away from each other mentally, physically and emotionally through tv, computers, and work one can do whatever wants for oneself, as long as they are able to make enough money to support themselves. It is no longer necessary to consider the good of the group inherently. Certainly most of us connect regularly with our friends, family, coworkers but I argue that if one person is going into a school and blasting 20 people dead with a semi-automatic, that one person is just as important a reflection on the overall health of society as a whole whether it happens in Burma, or Stettler.
This will be our greatest test - will we ignore our pre-programmed biology and need to connect with others, or will we collectively come together, molting our hardened, technologically advanced skins to reconnect to our humanity? Specifically social efforts on women's rights, drug trafficking, violent crimes, human rights and abuses will continue to flounder against the collective consciousness, and global economy of desire.
The same desire for casinos, cocaine, and cash were satiated by the thrill of collectively hunting a large buffalo, or protecting the tribe from a tiger in primitive times. The ability to work together to take down a large animal required complex forms of communication, not the least of which was language, thought to start about 250,000 years ago. Stories would be told for generations of how the tribe sustained an attack from a rival group, or how a child miraculously survived a swim in a croc-infested river. People relied on each other for all of their needs, whether it be physical, or emotional. This I know, because i am connected to my ancestors in a way I cannot explain. Fortunately science backs my claims, and will continue to.
My friend mused on fb today about making a mouse-flavoured cat food. Funny and cute and a good idea, except for mouse-flavoured cat food would be a mouse itself, no? We will continue to move farther and farther away from knowing where our own food comes from (I have seen a few cows killed and slaughtered, and eat that same animal later) especially as the global move away from farms continues.
So, what do we do? We must all become experts in being human - from our ancient history to our future. We must learn to deal with rich & poor, or scrap the whole system and revolutionize society. As long as there is a difference between us whether it be our bank accounts, or our possessions, or our mental state, the people who don't have it, will want it, and will do anything to get it; the people who have it will invariably want more. This desire will continue to fuel the sex trade, the drug trade, and all the violent crimes outside and in between. We will all need to display an inordinate amount of tolerance, understanding and acceptance of ourselves and others. As long as religion teaches people more about living well in today's world, and less of trying to interpret a book written thousands of years ago, it will have a place, and purpose.
Build up your armies, fall victim to the same human programs of jealousy, aggression, allow oneself to enjoy every temptation, and every desire. I'm ok with that. It's going to happen. Hell, I do it from time to time myself and my guilt is getting smaller and more redundant. But, I still have, and always will have, a desire, and love for everyone, and to make the world a different place. Do I have to be the Prime Minister of Canada to make a difference? No, I don't and I already have in my own life but it has taken a lot of pain and eye-opening to things I did not want to see, or experience. I had to believe in the power of love, of family, of friends of myself to come out the other side with a much better understanding, and acceptance of humanity. What makes my thoughts different is that my eyes are wide-open now.
Let's stop building armies, skyscrapers, mansions, dams, and churches and start building us.
With every reason to be selfish, it is now socially acceptable to think only of yourself. As we move farther and farther away from each other mentally, physically and emotionally through tv, computers, and work one can do whatever wants for oneself, as long as they are able to make enough money to support themselves. It is no longer necessary to consider the good of the group inherently. Certainly most of us connect regularly with our friends, family, coworkers but I argue that if one person is going into a school and blasting 20 people dead with a semi-automatic, that one person is just as important a reflection on the overall health of society as a whole whether it happens in Burma, or Stettler.
This will be our greatest test - will we ignore our pre-programmed biology and need to connect with others, or will we collectively come together, molting our hardened, technologically advanced skins to reconnect to our humanity? Specifically social efforts on women's rights, drug trafficking, violent crimes, human rights and abuses will continue to flounder against the collective consciousness, and global economy of desire.
The same desire for casinos, cocaine, and cash were satiated by the thrill of collectively hunting a large buffalo, or protecting the tribe from a tiger in primitive times. The ability to work together to take down a large animal required complex forms of communication, not the least of which was language, thought to start about 250,000 years ago. Stories would be told for generations of how the tribe sustained an attack from a rival group, or how a child miraculously survived a swim in a croc-infested river. People relied on each other for all of their needs, whether it be physical, or emotional. This I know, because i am connected to my ancestors in a way I cannot explain. Fortunately science backs my claims, and will continue to.
My friend mused on fb today about making a mouse-flavoured cat food. Funny and cute and a good idea, except for mouse-flavoured cat food would be a mouse itself, no? We will continue to move farther and farther away from knowing where our own food comes from (I have seen a few cows killed and slaughtered, and eat that same animal later) especially as the global move away from farms continues.
So, what do we do? We must all become experts in being human - from our ancient history to our future. We must learn to deal with rich & poor, or scrap the whole system and revolutionize society. As long as there is a difference between us whether it be our bank accounts, or our possessions, or our mental state, the people who don't have it, will want it, and will do anything to get it; the people who have it will invariably want more. This desire will continue to fuel the sex trade, the drug trade, and all the violent crimes outside and in between. We will all need to display an inordinate amount of tolerance, understanding and acceptance of ourselves and others. As long as religion teaches people more about living well in today's world, and less of trying to interpret a book written thousands of years ago, it will have a place, and purpose.
Build up your armies, fall victim to the same human programs of jealousy, aggression, allow oneself to enjoy every temptation, and every desire. I'm ok with that. It's going to happen. Hell, I do it from time to time myself and my guilt is getting smaller and more redundant. But, I still have, and always will have, a desire, and love for everyone, and to make the world a different place. Do I have to be the Prime Minister of Canada to make a difference? No, I don't and I already have in my own life but it has taken a lot of pain and eye-opening to things I did not want to see, or experience. I had to believe in the power of love, of family, of friends of myself to come out the other side with a much better understanding, and acceptance of humanity. What makes my thoughts different is that my eyes are wide-open now.
Let's stop building armies, skyscrapers, mansions, dams, and churches and start building us.
The Crossing
I had been on the road since 9 am leaving Antigua. The Guatemala-El Salvador border featured a bunch of young truck drivers holding their spots firmly in front of the vehicle importation office. A stack of papers was stuck in the window about a foot high. Still touchy from the Mexico Guatemala border experience, I was quick to tell a couple guys that swarmed me I was not about to talk to them, or require their help. I didn't want to pay them, I wanted to figure it out for myself. They complied. Overall, they were much less insistent, either as a result of the culture, or my request.
One of the truckers, a short, portly fellow with long fingernails, a jet black pony tail and moustache was laughing all the time. He looked at me and said Puto. I was already in a foul mood and on edge, and said "Puto?". He replied "Mucho", and felt his chin, perhaps a reference to my white beard. Pretty sure he said 'Puto', which is not a nice word. After about 45 minutes of waiting, the security guard motioned me over to the side door, and a young lady took my papers, circumventing the whole trucker lot. The process also involved numerous back and forths to the photocopier, and carefully handling the remants of my vehicle registration, the result of a couple months of moisture and mishandling.
The most important things to have in order to make the process quick are: $20 in local currency, $20 in the next country's currency, photocopies of a driver's license, registration, importation document, and passport. The experience is long enough in the hot heat, so this helps in speeding it up.
The ride was smooth f
or some time, with beautiful cliffs, ocean sunset, and lots of tunnels. As I entered La Libertad, my spirits were high, and in relative comfort. That was until I came upon a construction site, with red pylons strewn across the dirt road, attached to each other with yellow caution tape. People were walking all around, and one man was standing there. "Que pasa?" I asked. "Problema?" He shook his head "non", and pulled a pylon to the side for me to get through.
The road was rough, and steep. A construction crew with bright lights were operating here working on the bridge. Some whistles and cat calls from some guys, but I ignored it and went left along the dry river. I ended up in the middle of town, and had to find a couple people to direct me back to the road to Honduras. Three kids were running with me, and I yelled "Vamenos!" to spurn them on, and find the secret road. I find myself back at that same bridge again, with a couple flights of stairs up to a pedestrian bridge. Now there's 6 or 7 people, 3 kids, and a couple construction workers coming over to me.
I ask in Spanish how to get over to th
e highway. They reply "right here" in English and point to the stairs. "You guys are crazy! Are you sure". "Yes. Yes!" " "¿Cuánto cuesta?"
The one who seems to be the leader thinks for awhile. "Cinqo dollares" "Ok, let's do it." 6 of us hauled that bike up the stairs, as the locals patiently waited to get through. The bridge was solid and not the least bit shaky, unless I never noticed. It was uplifting and exciting, and such a relief the journey continued.
It was time to stop for the night in Usulutan, El Salvador but there was no money left for the $18 hotel room. Ran back into town and found a Scotia Bank. Very relieved, and a little taste of home.
The next morning, Mario, the hotel manager and I had a conversation about cultural differences between Canada and El Salvador. He was quite surprised I had no children or wife, saying that by at least 24 or 25, men have at least a couple kids. The average woman starts at 16, or 18.
One of the truckers, a short, portly fellow with long fingernails, a jet black pony tail and moustache was laughing all the time. He looked at me and said Puto. I was already in a foul mood and on edge, and said "Puto?". He replied "Mucho", and felt his chin, perhaps a reference to my white beard. Pretty sure he said 'Puto', which is not a nice word. After about 45 minutes of waiting, the security guard motioned me over to the side door, and a young lady took my papers, circumventing the whole trucker lot. The process also involved numerous back and forths to the photocopier, and carefully handling the remants of my vehicle registration, the result of a couple months of moisture and mishandling.
The most important things to have in order to make the process quick are: $20 in local currency, $20 in the next country's currency, photocopies of a driver's license, registration, importation document, and passport. The experience is long enough in the hot heat, so this helps in speeding it up.
The ride was smooth f
or some time, with beautiful cliffs, ocean sunset, and lots of tunnels. As I entered La Libertad, my spirits were high, and in relative comfort. That was until I came upon a construction site, with red pylons strewn across the dirt road, attached to each other with yellow caution tape. People were walking all around, and one man was standing there. "Que pasa?" I asked. "Problema?" He shook his head "non", and pulled a pylon to the side for me to get through.The road was rough, and steep. A construction crew with bright lights were operating here working on the bridge. Some whistles and cat calls from some guys, but I ignored it and went left along the dry river. I ended up in the middle of town, and had to find a couple people to direct me back to the road to Honduras. Three kids were running with me, and I yelled "Vamenos!" to spurn them on, and find the secret road. I find myself back at that same bridge again, with a couple flights of stairs up to a pedestrian bridge. Now there's 6 or 7 people, 3 kids, and a couple construction workers coming over to me.
I ask in Spanish how to get over to th
e highway. They reply "right here" in English and point to the stairs. "You guys are crazy! Are you sure". "Yes. Yes!" " "¿Cuánto cuesta?"
The one who seems to be the leader thinks for awhile. "Cinqo dollares" "Ok, let's do it." 6 of us hauled that bike up the stairs, as the locals patiently waited to get through. The bridge was solid and not the least bit shaky, unless I never noticed. It was uplifting and exciting, and such a relief the journey continued.It was time to stop for the night in Usulutan, El Salvador but there was no money left for the $18 hotel room. Ran back into town and found a Scotia Bank. Very relieved, and a little taste of home.
The next morning, Mario, the hotel manager and I had a conversation about cultural differences between Canada and El Salvador. He was quite surprised I had no children or wife, saying that by at least 24 or 25, men have at least a couple kids. The average woman starts at 16, or 18.
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