Tale of a Dragon

I knew my subconscious knew what was making me depressed, but I was afraid to hear what it was. If I consciously knew, then action would have to be taken rather than just continuing to talk about it.

So I assisted the Pursuit of Excellence series program called The Wall. Exposure to people moving forward and to the program material always gives me a boost and serves as wakeup call.

The third day was done but I was still struggling. Until the dream:

A dark cave with a a pit in the middle. In the pit, a large lump covered with dust, pitch and chunks of brimstone. Unbearable heat and choking fumes. Next to the pit is a woman in a black and dirty garb. She maneuvers an ugly looking blade with many sharp points and protrusions. She jabs it at the lump, prodding it in certain places.

Hours pass.

Slowly, the lump stirs. This is it! The moment my subconscious surfaces and reveals to me its dark secret. Now that some of the brimstone has cracked and fallen off, I can see that it is a dragon in the pit. A black and shiny flank. A healthy and strong dragon. The dragon says to the woman, "Don't poke the sore spots!" It means the thin places in its armor.

And it is leaving the cave. To reveal itself to my consciousness. It presses its head on the wall of the cave. The wall bulges outward and it will soon free itself from the dark hole it has inhabited for centuries. And... the alarm goes off and it is time to get the Assistant duties started.

-=-=-=-=-=-

That isn't the end though; there are other truths hidden in this dream. The dragon not only represents the deep dark truth. I am the dragon. And the woman? She is my wife, Mo. My initial thought is that she is keeping me captive in the cave. Holding me and keeping me from being the dragon I am at heart. I am Strong. She holds me back.

A day later though, I determine that isn't the story either. The truth of the matter is that she is prodding me to get me OUT of the pit! She wants me to be happy and it is me that is holding the dragon in the pit. She pokes the sore spots only because that is the only thing that moves me from the pit.

A tiny context switch changes the woman in the cave from a witch bent on a dragon's destruction into a princess enduring lasting hell in order to save her dear dragon.

Source of wisdom

I have been tuning in to the Sisters' Weblog ever since starting this blog. These two ladies have a different perspective on what it means to be a Christian (they also have better grammer skills). Recently, things have taken a turn for the worse.

Katie recently posts "Manipulator" stating baldly that "her journey is over". How can one Christian read that from another and not respond?

I guess I have been paying attention to God even though it doesn't seem like it much lately.

A blessing for Yash

Living a life worth living. "Yash, I send a blessing to you that you find a love (hobby or lover) that shows you the world and stars". Yash hates the internet pictures with this video, but she loves the sadness of the singer. She told me the lyrics speak of a lover who shows the singer the world and the stars.

Are you a Monkey peddler?

Here is a little parable I received from the Meme God, the internet. Just because the source isn't holy doesn't make it any less thought provoking.

Once upon a time in a place overrun with monkeys, a man appeared and announced to the villagers that he would buy monkeys for $10 each.

The villagers, seeing that there were many monkeys around, went out to the forest, and started catching them. The man bought thousands at $10 and as supply started to diminish, they became harder to catch, so the villagers stopped their effort.

The man then announced that he would now pay $20 for each one. This renewed the efforts of the villagers and they started catching monkeys again. But soon the supply diminished even further and they were ever harder to catch, so people started going back to their farms and forgot about monkey catching. The man increased his price to $25 each and the supply of monkeys became so sparse that it was an effort to even see a monkey, much less catch one.

The man now announced that he would buy monkeys for $50! However, since he had to go to the city on some business, his assistant would now buy on his behalf.

While the man was away the assistant told the villagers. "Look at all these monkeys in the big cage that the man has bought. I will sell them to you at $35 each and when the man returns from the city, you can sell them to him for $50 each."

The villagers rounded up all their savings and bought all the monkeys. They never saw the man nor his assistant again and once again there were monkeys everywhere.

Now you have a better understanding of how the stock market works.

Okay, so it is funny. There is a message here though. The villagers think the man is crazy for wanting so many monkeys. Money talks though. If speculation is evil, who is evil in this parable? Certainly the man and his assistant are con men. But it is the greed of the villagers that make the con possible.

Worth as opposed to perceived worth. It all comes down to valuing what we have.

This little story is such a strong Meme in my mind

Look for the beauty

Since my most recent Marathon in November, I haven't been running very much. Mo suggested that I get out there and talk to the PBGs'.

It is a big, scary, dangerous world out there. Everywhere I looked, there was garbage strewn around. I asked the PBGs' why the world was in such a mess. Mute as usual, except for the briefest comment, "Look for the beauty, be the beauty".

There will always be vomit to encounter. But if you look closely, three are flowers to see, bird songs to hear and laughing children.

But you have to look closely.

Anti War

Here is an interesting statistic..

Regardless of where you stand on the issue of the U.S. involvement in Iraq, here is a sobering statistic:

There has been a monthly average of 160,000 troops in the Iraq theatre of operations during the last 22 months, and a total of 2,867 deaths. That gives a firearm death rate of 60 per 100,000 soldiers.

The firearm death rate in Washington D.C. is 80.6 per 100,000 persons for the same period.

That means that you are about 25% more likely to be shot and killed in the U.S. Capital than you are in Iraq.

Conclusion: The U.S should pull out of Washington.

Taken from an email titled "War" by unknown.

Boy to Man

My boy is growing up. We came to visit Grandma tonight for dinner tonight. We talked at dinner about the discussions Mo and I have been having on WonderCafe.ca, teenage attitudes and growing up.

After dinner, Grandma asked my son how people reacted to his getting his long hair cut short. He thought it was awesome how the teachers didn't even know who he was when he walked into their classes.

Then Grandma offered to let him try my Dad's old electric razor to shave off the fuzz on his lip. He has always been resistant when *I* ask him about shaving. Well, this time, he thought he would try it.

AND HE DID. He doesn't realize it yet, but he has just joined the shaving male world. In my case, I shaved out of desperation so people would stop teasing me. Then I found that the faster I shaved it off, the faster it grew back!! Before I knew it I had a full beard.

I am clean shaven now, but I had a beard for a lot of years.

We'll make a man out of that boy yet.

He'll be moving out soon, I shouldn't wonder. "Can I have his room?"