Unerring Independence

On 2 July, 1776, the Continental Congress declared freedom from Britain. The Declaration of Independence was signed 4 July, 1776, and the majority of signatures were given to this document in August.

“We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness.”

John Adams said of this new nation, “It was patched and piebald policy then, as it is now, ever was and ever will be, world without end.” We see even today the unique challenges and opportunities of this “American Experiment”.

Alexander Hamilton, in Federalist I, pleads to the people, “Yes, my countrymen, I own to you that, after having given it an attentive consideration, I am clearly of opinion that it is your interest to adopt [the Constitution]. I am convinced that this is the safest course for your liberty, your dignity, and your happiness.”

Two-hundred forty-one years later, we stand with history at our backs. The great men and women of American upbringing, countless immigrants who have made these lands their homes, masters of industry and political prowess; they made way for what we now experience – the boons of prosperity, and the burdens we endure.

When this government was founded, it was a upon a belief of freedom from tyranny, and these new “Americans” died for this conviction.

We the People of the United States, in Order to form a more perfect Union, establish Justice, insure domestic Tranquility, provide for the common defence, promote the general Welfare, and secure the Blessings of Liberty to ourselves and our Posterity, do ordain and establish this Constitution for the United States of America.”

Two documents: a Declaration and a Constitution. These are the backbone of America. We, the people… We comprise everything else. One no greater or lesser than any other. The military is our great skin, protecting us from external forces, and ensuring “common defence.” The three branches of government allows for “domestic Tranquility,” “Justice,” & promoting the “general welfare” of the citizenry.

The “Blessings of Liberty” are ours, and it is with great pride that one can call themselves an American. The political tides will change from time to time in this Country, and it is still at best “patched and piebald policy.” But the belief in this experiment, this liberty and justice for all, guides the people of this Nation towards the unknown future, as it always has done.

George Washington had this to say in his farewell address:

“The unity of government which constitutes you one people is also now dear to you. It is justly so, for it is a main pillar in the edifice of your real independence, the support of your tranquility at home, your peace abroad; of your safety; of your prosperity; of that very liberty which you so highly prize. But as it is easy to foresee that, from different causes and from different quarters, much pains will be taken, many artifices employed to weaken in your minds the conviction of this truth; as this is the point in your political fortress against which the batteries of internal and external enemies will be most constantly and actively (though often covertly and insidiously) directed, it is of infinite moment that you should properly estimate the immense value of your national union to your collective and individual happiness; that you should cherish a cordial, habitual, and immovable attachment to it; accustoming yourselves to think and speak of it as of the palladium of your political safety and prosperity; watching for its preservation with jealous anxiety; discountenancing whatever may suggest even a suspicion that it can in any event be abandoned; and indignantly frowning upon the first dawning of every attempt to alienate any portion of our country from the rest, or to enfeeble the sacred ties which now link together the various parts.

For this you have every inducement of sympathy and interest. Citizens, by birth or choice, of a common country, that country has a right to concentrate your affections. The name of American, which belongs to you in your national capacity, must always exalt the just pride of patriotism more than any appellation derived from local discriminations. With slight shades of difference, you have the same religion, manners, habits, and political principles. You have in a common cause fought and triumphed together; the independence and liberty you possess are the work of joint counsels, and joint efforts of common dangers, sufferings, and successes.”

In closing, I am of the opinion that people may fail, and policies may falter. But the notions with which this Country was established will remain in perpetuity, so long as someone still remains that will say they are American. Happy Fourth of July.

A night in blue

I turn on the jazz
The city unfolds before my eyes
Night sky with bright lights
Blazing from imaginary windows
Smoke and fog drifts soundlessly
Creeping over weary streets
From my private perch I watch
Listening to the sounds of the night
The song of the city
A tune that echoes in drums and lobes
Different in percussion for every skull
Notes still piping
Slow, vivid and hot
The picture it paints
Across the scape of my eye
Pupil and cornea alive with musical notation
Dancing, streaming, playing raw
Heat, fire, life.
It is where the soul lives
The heart beats
The mind creates
Those moments that cannot stop
But you can never experience again
Once they pass, gone
And you, holding on in the night
Wait to feel it again
See it again
Live it and know again
That it breathes into you
Inspiration
While I watch this happen
Inhaling air, tobacco and sweat
Breathing heavily
Night not cooling my body
Air just promising to break the heat
While my body feels the beat
The rhythm of music long since played
Echoing over these weary streets
And my bleary eyes
Take in the sights
Feeing no pain
And hoping the morning doesn’t come too soon

On the reading bug

Started reading a book (the intro really, plus a few entries) that I had purchased a few weeks ago. Nick Hornby’s Ten Years in the Tub: A decade soaking in great books. First, I love books. The idea of what Hornby did for The Believer, where each month he would just talk about the books he read and ones he bought, was entirely captivating to me.

So, this being the first entry of the month, I’d like to take a cue from Nick Hornby:

June 2017

Books Bought:

  • The Republic – Plato
  • Atlantis: The Eighth Continent – Charles Berlitz
  • Designing Your Life – Bill Burnett & Dave Evans
  • Conversational Spanish in 20 Lessons – Cortina Method
  • Light on Yoga – B.K.S. Iyengar
  • The War of Art – Steven Pressfield
  • Thinking: The New Art of Decision-Making  – Edited by John Brockman

Books Read:

  • Do the Work! – Steven Pressfield
  • Dirk Gently’s Holistic Detective Agency – Douglas Adams
  • Outrageous Openness – Tosha Silver
  • The Perdition Score – Richard Kadrey
  • Sept. ’03 – Jan. ’04 of Ten Years in the Tub – Nick Hornby
  • Worth Dying For – Lee Child
  • The War of Art – Steven Pressfield (started)

What can I tell you about the books I’ve read? Or bought? Why do we do this? I found a beautiful passage in the intro to Ten Years in the Tub, written by Jess Walter:

“That the books we buy are almost as important as those  we read. From the beginning there were always two columns [referring to Hornby’s monthly article], Books Bought and Books Read. By my crude math, Nick spent somewhere around ten or fifteen grand on books he hasn’t even read. Besides showing that he did his part to support publishing during a tough economic period, this suggests something important about reading. Looking around my own obsessively crowded shelves, I see there are two categories of books I tend to keep: those I love and those I hope one day to read. If the books we read reflect the person we are, the books we hope to read might just be who we aspire to be. There is something profound in that.”

I checked out Do the Work! and Dirk Gently from the library. Both came precariously close to being returned unread, but something about each grabbed me and made me change course. The library and, by extension, book stores, are sort of a second home to me. And in this in-between period, where the old life I lived has fallen away and the new one is just breaking out of its cocoon, they function more as my first home than the place that houses my stuff.

Do the Work! walks us through the creative process, highlighting the role of resistance in creation. Now, I’m a big fan of Seth Godin. Have been since I first stumbled across The Icarus Deception, oh, three years ago. At that time I was creatively stifled, my professional and personal lives not working out the way that I had intended. He begged his readers to do the work, fight resistance, and ship! Yes! I can get on board with that.

Pressfield’s book does much the same, but not as effectively. I do feel inspired to do the work, yet I get stuck on syntax when he delves into his theory on the contradictory nature of the Universe’s role in Resistance/Assistance. I’ll likely come at this book again a year or two down the road, and see if I agree or disagree more with the sentiment. The War of Art has been on my reading list for a few years, so it was time to pull the trigger and buy it. I’m just starting it, and seeing the themes revisited from Do the Work!

Adams is always fun, and Dirk Gently’s was no exception. The thought and connectivity he puts into a book about interconnectivity gives enough laugh-out-loud moments that I found myself flying through it.

Atlantis and the course on Spanish weren’t bought, per se. Rather free books in a stack at the library. There’s a girl from Barcelona I wish I were better able to communicate with, though she speaks  English more fluidly than I do. Atlantis, eh. Always curious about the esoteric and metaphysical.

In The Perdition Score, I got to resist the character Sandman Slim, aka James Stark, as he moved up and down a supernatural Los Angeles, and back into Hell. I began reading Kadrey’s series last February, what is that, fourteen months ago? Since then, I’ve read eight and just committed to reading the ninth when I saw it in the bookstore. Perdition is probably the best of the series since Sandman Slim, but I’m a sucker for watching Stark get even when someone goes after his friends.

Another series that I just began last year but have managed to put a considerable dent in is the Jack Reacher collection, by Lee Child. Worth Dying For is well-plotted mystery, and I had trouble putting it down as well. I spent the better part of two days catching up with Mr. Reacher in a little Nebraska town run by some no-goods that were, par for the course, up to no good. It’s a satisfying read, and moves the story towards him heading back to Virginia, which they adapted for film in last year’s Never Go Back.

Tosha Silver and Iyengar’s books are part of my required reading for the yoga practice. I bought Light on Yoga from a Los Angeles Goodwill on Amazon, so it’ll arrive soon. It was like five bucks. Outrageous Openness we discussed at the yoga studio, and it seems to be of big help to those of us who have trouble letting go and trusting that Divine help will be coming.

My first experience with that concept was back in November, 2015, when I started Cameron’s The Artist’s Way. I know some crazy things can happen, once you say okay and let the Universe/Divine/God/Source start working on you.

I made it though five whole books this month, with two solid starts, and a few dips into other assorted writings. I can’t guarantee that many, but there is that new Sandman Slim out there, as well as a Reacher novel someone loaned me. Plus, there’s a stack of library books on philosophy that need to be returned this month, so it may be more likely that I get a sit down with Spinoza and Kierkegaard.

We’re all a little sick sometimes

Healthcare. What a broken system. Same with education. Same with criminal justice. As a matter of fact, any system that should be in place to provide services and care to a country’s population, once it moves to the private sector, becomes a cash cow, pumping returns into wealthy investors’ pockets and political coffers to keep sympathetic lawmakers in power.

Want to fix healthcare? Stop letting the insurance companies run the industry.

We’ve been watching premiums rise, yes, since the advent of the Affordable Care Act (Obamacare), but even before then. There have been grumbling among insurers that costs are just to great under the new political policies to keep premiums at the same level.

However, consider this:

According to an November, 2016 article on Consumer Affairs, Amy Martyn reports that, “UnitedHealth announced record-breaking profits in 2015, followed by an even better year this year. In July 2016, UnitedHealth celebrated revenues that quarter totalling $46.5 billion, an increase of $10 billion since the same time last year.  And company filings show that UnitedHealth’s CEO Stephen J. Hemsley made over $20 million in 2015. To be fair, that is a pay cut. The previous year, in 2014, Hemsley took home $66 million in compensation.”

Okay. Obviously an isolated incident.

However, Ms. Martyn continues on to say: “Aetna, whose CEO Mark Bertolini reported to the Securities and Exchange Commission a $27.9 million compensation in 2015, has similarly celebrated sky-high profits. “In 2015, we reported annual operating revenue of over $60.3 billion, a record for the Company,” Aetna recently told investors.

Yet in this article from an issue last week of the Waco Tribune-Herald, written by guest columnist Merrill Matthews, there’s a little discrepancy regarding Aetna: “Also in May, Aetna said it would pull out of several other states. According to CNN, “The company said it expects to lose more than $200 million in its individual business line this year, on top of nearly $700 million in losses between 2014 and 2016. Aetna withdrew from 11 of its 15 markets for 2017.”

A simple Google search gives me CNBC’s report on quarterly profits for Aetna from January of  this year:

“Aetna’s net profit fell to $139 million, or 39 cents per share, in the fourth quarter ended Dec. 31, from $321 million, or 91 cents per share, a year earlier.

Excluding items, Aetna earned $1.63 per share, handily beating analysts’ average estimate of $1.44 per share, according to Thomson Reuters I/B/E/S.”

Well, man, this is confusing. Either they’re making money, or they’re losing money, but whatever it is it’s in the hundreds of millions of dollars. Okay. Let’s read on in this CNBC report:

“Aetna said its total health care medical benefit ratio — the percent of premiums spent on claims — rose to 82.1 percent from 81.9 percent, a year earlier, mainly due to higher medical costs in its individual commercial products.”

Which means they get to keep 20% of what they bring in, hundreds of millions of dollars. Just for taking money, than turning around and paying to medical professionals.

Yes, they’re moving money from healthy people to sick people. That’s the nature of insurance. But their business model is taking as much in as they can, and pay out as little as they can. That’s profit.

If you want to fix healthcare, get rid of insurance for profit’s sake. Otherwise, it’s one person’s best interest against a corporation driven by profits and shareholders’ best interests.

Can’t sleep, vol. 2

The light from the screen is blinding my near-darkness-adjsuted eyes. I’m having trouble falling asleep again.

I’m thinking about the On Being interview with physicist Brian Greene. And about the book Do the Work! by Steven Pressfield. (I’m also thinking how much computers, for all their infinite wisdom, can’t tell when something should be capitalized or not, damn autocorrect!)

In the book, Pressfield talks about thoughts. About what Buddhists call “monkey-thoughts”, or all that noise that occurs in the primitive lobes of the brain. And about the other thoughts we regurgitate from sources. 

What has me up tonight is, where do my thoughts, if any are original, come from? I’m laying in bed, and I’m hearing Brian Greene talk about string theory and quantum mechanics. I’m thinking about the origins of the Universe, as I’ve learned from theology, spirituality, Darwin and physics. I’m wondering, what the bleep do I actually know?

Perhaps this is all a bit heavy for midnight contemplation on a Sunday/Monday post-meridian interchange. But I’m just so darned perplexed. My feet won’t stop shaking, and my brain is going a mile a minute. Hence just plopping some thought vomit out on the internets. 

I’m working on a short document, exploring where I believe thoughts to come from. I doubt I’ll get to any firm answer, but at least I can muddle through these thoughts I’m having on thoughts. 

Good night… I hope.

You’ve got mail

I want fewer email. I want more messages.

Rather than getting the daily appeals from every organization I’ve ever given to, bought from, volunteered for, etc., etc., send me something worth reading.

We receive way too many emails in our inbox now. It’s not fun. It’s a disaster.

Early days of email were about distant, instantaneous connection. Now it’s about instantaneous selling.

From connection to consumerism. When something loses its ability to connect, only to be replaced by the need to create profit, then it has gone off the rails. It’s not expansion, and it’s not engagement. It’s assault, and it needs to need to stop.

Companies – Stop forcing us to give you our email. Ask for it. Maybe you’ll get it, if we feel it’s worth reading what you have to say. Don’t assume. Many times, we don’t want to hear it.

I want content worth reading. I want an inbox that is less full and more interesting. I want a connection.

The week that was

When I first started Michael’s Musings, oh, some point early in the Obama Administration, I really just wanted a platform to rant and rave about what I saw as wrong with politics. Or, what I saw as right about Obama. Or, honestly, who knows. I made one post, and have since moved that to the trashbins of cyberspace.

Still, I’m civic-minded, and I see many things going wrong, and some that are going right. (It seems we always focus on the wrong, and rarely on what’s going right.) I’d like to devote my Sundays to writing about politics, about civics. About discourse that I muse about. So that’s going to be my Sunday devotional. Starting today.

This past week, Jon Ossoff lost in Georgia.

For the record, I was sick of hearing about this race.

I live in Florida. I’m a registered Democrat. The amount of emails was mind-numbing, mostly asking for money, and not giving me a damn lick of information that I cared about.

Problem number one: The message.

What is it you want the American people to know? The voters? The immigrants? The wealthy and the poor, the blue-collar and white-collar? And, most important, you need to stay honest.

Problem number two: How we lose.

I’ve been spending a lot of time thinking about political races, about why we get into politics, about how we run campaigns. (I’m using the Royal “We” here, but I’ve considered running myself from time to time.) I have to believe that we get into politics to make the world, our world and our nation, a better place.

In my opinion, there’s a way to do it, even if you lose. Be better.

That’s it. Be betterDon’t smear, don’t snipe, don’t attack. You may not win a race running it fair, clean, and good. But if the only way you can win is by playing dirty, are you even winning?

That’s the nation that Trump became president in. We live in fear, and we live in troubling times. But even in losing, we can show the nation a better way.

I love the line from Hamilton: The Musical:

George Washington speak-sings, “If I say goodbye, the nation learns to move on. It outlives me when I’m gone.”

Be the example. That’s the point of politics. Be better. And that’s all I have to say for this week.

What’s it all for?

We spend our lives mired in the weeds of mediocrity. The big problems are hidden from us now as television, work, and society vies for our attention. We’ve consigned the larger questions to arenas of academia. Why should we progress any further, we ask ourselves? We have everything. Don’t we?

Sure, we have TV dinners and auto start coffee makers. We have fifty-hour work weeks, commutes and audio books so that we can ignore our commutes; roadside billboard so that we can ignore our commutes; blasting radio stations in Bose car audio systems so that we can ignore our commutes.

We drive by the poor, the homeless, and the disenfranchised, then drive into fast food drive-through lanes. We live in our own bubbles of invisibility. If we look up, we may see Wonder Woman going by in her invisible airplane.

Why not stop being invisible? What’s the cost of saying hello to your neighbor? And why stop there? If you’ve gone that far, why not have a conversation? Did you know that your neighbor has a passion, a hobby? My neighbor hands washes his fifteen-year old VW every week because he loves it enough to keep it in pristine condition. You probably have something you love like that. A hobby, or a passion.

I’m a proponent of the conversation. Of going to farmer’s markets rather than Wal-Mart. Wal-Mart’s business model is one of invisibility. (I’ll have to explore that thought in a later post). Finding the small ways that life can be joyful.

I’ll leave you with this thought, from Leo Brouwer. “To be useful is something incredible, because you’re at the service of the world.”

Can’t Sleep vol. 1

Still awake at ten past two. It’s not for one with a weak disposition, I think. I am tired, but almost physically incapable of attaining sleep. It’s as if it purposefully eludes me.

I perhaps ate something that disagreed with me, and now secretive digestive processes conspire to steal my resting hours. Or it’s the chill air, blowing through the open windows in a cross breeze. No, that can’t be it. The cool night air is good for helping me sleep.

There’s little ambient noise now. The perpetual low, moaning hum of the air purifier. With it off, particulates invade my sinus cavities and make sleeping uncomfortable, so I allow the white noise of the purifier to lull me to sleep.

I can’t get comfortable. I’m laying in bed, writing this on my side, but my left arm doesn’t particularly care for the position it’s in. My leg also feels abused.

“Fine,” I say to my my appendages. “I’ll move.”

I move.

But writing like this, from my new position, is more difficult. For one, I can’t see the keyboard as well.

“You don’t need to see the keyboard to type!” I hear a century’s worth of education on typing molest my ears. Well, I’m sorry to tell you, but my finger placement is wonky at best. So yes, I do need to see the keyboard.

From where I’m at though, all these red underlined words are appearing in my document. To be expected, as I can’t see the damn keyboard. Hopefully, when you’re reading this, all spelling errors will have been corrected.

Twenty after two. Still awake.

I’m not writing about anything, really. My inability to sleep I suppose. I do need to relieve my bladder. (With you in mind, I chose the phrase “relieve my bladder”. The first thought was urinate, which sounded too formal. Than pee, which was too childish. Piss also, but sometimes vulgarity doesn’t serve a purpose, and I’d rather have the full lexicon of naughty words available to me when I really need it.)

So, I’ll put this up, and post it later. Perhaps I’ll get to sleep.

9P(R)

My shorthand for tarot readings, Nine of Pentacles Reversed. I had a rough day at work, and decided it was time to move on; time to leave there and find a new job. I wanted to ask the Universe what today taught me. This was the card I drew.

“This card in reverse may be telling you that something you are spending a lot of time on will not yield financial or personal gain. You may be wasting effort. Consider if it’s time to throw in the towel on something that is not giving you the results you had hoped for.”

Thank you Universe.

I’m listening to Dvorak’s New World Symphony right now, to relax. I picked up a used album at a library sale a few weeks back. I’ve been wearing that vinyl down. There’s something supremely reassuring about the notes of No. 9 in E Minor, Op. 95.

I had listened to a Chamber Ensemble in Prague, and the Second Movement of this symphony was played. It’s one of my all time favorites.

The title of this blog post comes courtesy of watching Shut Eye, on Hulu. I just got around to seeing it, and really enjoyed. Each episode was titled after a Tarot card, and was relevant to the plot.

The overall thoughts on my mind are new beginnings. Learning that life has a path, a plan. To quote Tosha Silver, “Let what wants to come, come. Let what wants to go, go.”

Amen!