Everyday Thoughts for Your
Everyday Life.
Washington’s Civility and Franklin’s Virtues.
August 6th, 2010 by stephanie
Ok, so most of us have heard about or are perhaps familiar with Washington’s 110 Rules of Civility & Decent Behavior in Company and Conversation. Based on a set of rules composed by French Jesuits in 1595, the young George copied them by hand at the age of 16.
But how many of you were aware of the 13 Virtues that Franklin had penned at the tender age of 20 (in 1726)? You may recall them. If not, I list them here:
1. “TEMPERANCE. Eat not to dullness; drink not to elevation.”
2. “SILENCE. Speak not but what may benefit others or yourself; avoid trifling conversation.”
3. “ORDER. Let all your things have their places; let each part of your business have its time.”
4. “RESOLUTION. Resolve to perform what you ought; perform without fail what you resolve.”
5. “FRUGALITY. Make no expense but to do good to others or yourself; i.e., waste nothing.”
6. “INDUSTRY. Lose no time; be always employ’d in something useful; cut off all unnecessary actions.”
7. “SINCERITY. Use no hurtful deceit; think innocently and justly, and, if you speak, speak accordingly.”
8. “JUSTICE. Wrong none by doing injuries, or omitting the benefits that are your duty.”
9. “MODERATION. Avoid extremes; forbear resenting injuries so much as you think they deserve.”
10. “CLEANLINESS. Tolerate no uncleanliness in body, cloaths, or habitation.”
11. “TRANQUILLITY. Be not disturbed at trifles, or at accidents common or unavoidable.”
12. “CHASTITY. Rarely use venery but for health or offspring, never to dullness, weakness, or the injury of your own or another’s peace or reputation.”
13. “HUMILITY. Imitate Jesus and Socrates.”
With that, think of the VIRTUE you might practice today. Maybe pick one a day? If anything, it will be an exercise in bettering yourself. If only even for today.
Just my thoughts. Yours?
S.
One Lump, or Two?
August 3rd, 2010 by stephanie
As I poured my cup of coffee from the large urn that sat on the white cloth covered table outside the sanctuary doors, I suddenly realized there was a line for the cream and sugar.
A line? How hard can it be to add cream and sugar I thought?
Apparently, harder than one might imagine. The person in front of me must have gone to tech school or, at least, he definitely took chemistry. Each container and packet was carefully opened. One at a time. Then each was methodically stirred into the hot ever-changing brew.
As the steam seeped over his shoulder, his hunched back only showed the intense form with which he utilized to maintain the concentration needed for this very special and precise formula.
At this point? I was ready to tap his knees lightly from behind which would cause him to fold, then, I could elbow him to my left, slosh some cream into my cup and slip out the side door. But no. I was at church. I would have to behave.
Not an easy task when all you want is your cup of joe, and the guy in front of you has some Emeril Lagasse complex. It was painful to say the least.
Call me crazy, but when people get to the cream and sugar station, something strange overtakes them. Have you ever noticed that they suddenly forget that anyone else is in the building, let alone the vicinity? They measure and pour and stir. Then consider, and begin the entire process again while 28 of us behind them frantically check our watches (or cell or PDAs) and lament how we’re ever going to get back on schedule.
These coffee snobs are just not polite. And I am thinking I might start a Hey, there’s a boat load of us behind you. Get it together and move on campaign. (Do you think that might be a bit over the top?) Those of you who frequent your favorite coffee dispensary or cafe’ totally understand this personal angst.
Just my thoughts on this very nice day, when my elixir of the gods is getting cold while the unsuspecting space cadet in front of me gets the perfect color and taste combination as I patiently wait contemplating whether or not I’d personally be happy to offer him one lump or two. (Whew! Got that off my chest.)
Let’s just keep this little rant of mine between us today, shall we?
S.
Burned Bridge Ahead. Watch for Falling Ash.
June 8th, 2010 by stephanie
Have you ever watched someone throw a tantrum? Maybe you have a tendency to burst out yourself. Most of us at one point or another have had the um…pleasure?
Maybe you have recently been on the receiving end of someone’s temper. Those moments, along with the people who inflict them, usually wreak havoc on whoever is in the room. When a person loses their cool, they leave a path of destruction before storming off– supposedly never to be seen or heard from again. I have found it interesting however, that Ironically, without fail, they come back! After repeated incidences, where we observe them acting out, then taking their marbles and going home, you’d think they’d finally make good on their promise and stay away. But nooooo. They usually return–just like the tide.
The amazing thing to me, is the “how” they return. Out of the blue, they reappear. Usually unannounced. All happy and ready to start fresh. As if nothing ever happened. And you and I are supposed to play along. Smile. Make nice. One thought here: Elephant in the room!
Strange.
I always wonder what goes on in the minds of these people. I wonder if it even dawns on them that they have hurt anyone that is in their radius. But when I think about it, I don’t think they really care. Or, at least, I don’t think they can care. You can’t act like that and care about anyone other than yourself. Stranger still, they seem to generally rationalize their behavior. I guess they want you and I to just “accept” the fact that they are supposedly “passionate”, emotional people? It’s all good– in their minds. Whatever…
A friend of mine admitted to me that she has been known to throw tantrums. She confided in me that the times she has “acted out” in life were the times she didn’t really know how to properly act during a crisis. Her ugly behavior was her way of trying to get people’s attention. To let them know that she was deeply hurting and needed help. Very understandable. I can appreciate that. But it doesn’t make it the best plan of action. Either for the person throwing the fiery arts or for those left to brush off the ashes.
So, what is one to do when we encounter those who, after the storm has blown over and we have forgotten all about them, drag back in like the dog? I guess the best response might be this–no response at all. They will continue to be who they are. They don’t necessarily see the need or a reason to change. Therefore, it is not our job (nor are we truly able) to “fix” them or the problems that come with them.
Perhaps, the best thing to do is to simply smile and go about our business. And perhaps a bit of healthy distance wouldn’t hurt. These folks will continue to burn bridges. You and I might as well stand back and watch the smoke from afar. Remember, where there’s smoke, there’s fire. And no one likes to get burned.
Just my thoughts.
S.
How Do You Handle a “Bully?”
May 18th, 2010 by stephanie
The frustrated individual sitting across from me was fuming by the erratic behavior of a caller that had just left them a message. “Ok, what do you do with a bully?” I asked. Hoping to calm them a bit and help them regain their composure if not perspective.
To be honest, I was recalling a particular person in my life that in truth is–a bully. During a recent gathering, I was a bit forward and held my ground when this particular person came at me in front of a room of people. In my opinion, I think they were surprised by my firm response. And I hope I sent a clear message. One that said: You don’t need to be rude and you need to check your facts before you bite!
Shortly after that incident, I came across a story that I found in a newsletter
It went something like this.
Back in the 1970s, crime had gotten so out of hand in New York City, that people actually began posting “No Radio” signs in their cars to ward off vandals. Mayor Rudy Giuliani and his Commissioner William Bratton finally declared that they had had enough. And when they came across the “Broken Windows” theory, they knew they’d found their plan of action.
The Broken Windows theory simply states that if a building has a broken window that is not fixed, the message is sent that no one cares. Vandals believe there will be no consequences for their bad behavior, and, worse behavior follows.
However, once the broken window is fixed, it sends a clear message that someone cares about their community and that people are watching, which deters crime.
Acting on the Broken Windows theory, Giuliani and Bratton transformed New York from one of the most dangerous cities in America to the safest big city in the country. How? Simpy by treating minor crimes like vandalism, prostitution, and loitering like broken windows.
They deployed police to where they were most needed and, instead of tolerating these crimes and showing weakness to criminals the police showed strength. They instituted a “zero tolerance” policy for so-called minor crimes.
As criminals saw what was going on, crime slowed to an almost frozen pace. Citizens and tourists felt safer walking the streets and taking the subway and they took more responsibility for their neighborhoods and helped make them safer in return.
By restoring order to the streets police didn’t have to spend all their time responding to crime. Their show of strength inspired citizens to take care of their own communities which deterred criminals from committing crimes in the first place.
So, the moral of the story is. Sit back, and the weeds will grow, and the vandals will come. Stand up, take action and keep order, and your part of the world can become a much better and safer place.
Just my thoughts. And, a bit from Proverbs too.
S.
It’s the Simple Things…
April 11th, 2010 by stephanie
Many of you may be familiar with the once popular reality TV show that was called The Simple Life. It featured Paris Hilton and her BFF Nicole Richie. They would travel to the more rural areas, at times, and experience life outside of the Gucci and Prada set.
Now, I have been to, and pass through, Arkansas quite often, a place the TV show also visited. But nothing is as truly “simple” as the areas where you find the Amish folk.
My mother loves to devour any fiction book that features the Amish in its theme, so, when she was visiting me once, I figured it would be fun to take her down to the Amish community a few miles away.
I can tell you, there is nothing quite like the beauty of those gorgeous horses elegantly trotting down the lane as they pull those sweet carriages. Sitting inside are very quiet, composed riders. If you are fortunate enough to catch a quick glimpse as they pass, when you look at their faces, it appears as if their thoughts are miles away, while their ride methodically makes its way through town. It is in a way a poetry in motion of its own. I could sit and watch those and similar scenes over and over again when I am in “their” neck of the woods.
As we spent some time at the produce auction, we watched the barefooted little boys in their straw hats and their blue shirts as they downed cans of Coca Cola.
The teen-aged boys huddled in a back corner off to the side. And I bet you money they were talking about girls in those hushed tones that we heard wafting over the warm breeze. Men huddled, negotiating prices and quality, while the women, in their dresses, stayed on the other side the of the building minding the little ones.
When we headed out to leave, we decided to take a drive down the dirt roads and past their homes. This was when we noticed that it was laundry day. “Wash on Monday” as the old saying goes. That made sense. Sabbath was over and it was time for a fresh new week. Gardens needed tending, food needed preparing. What they had done last week, they would begin anew during this one. They knew the drill. Season after season after season. There is something soothing about simplicity and routine.
It got to me. “Why do we feel the need to be so busy?” And, more than that, I got to thinking, “Why do I need so much stuff?” These people are truly of the “…with food and clothing, with these we shall be content” crowd. It was at the least – inspiring.
I don’t know about you, but the more I am around money, or those who have it, I find that I too need, well, more. Why? I have no idea. I have food. I have clothes. But suddenly I feel that I need that special new handbag or that condo at the beach. However, when I step away, even for a short time (like I did for those few hours that day in Amish Country) to where the simple life is led, it’s amazing the perspective that comes washing over me. These people require very little. And their lives seem healthy and whole. Perfect? No. But there’s something to be said for the simple life, I’m just sayin’.
Tell you what, if we find ourselves stressing and straining this week over the “don’t haves”, let’s agree to pause, if you will, and ask ourselves three things: Do we have clothes? Do we have food? Do we have a roof over our head? If you and I can answer “yes” to each of those questions, for today, I’d say we’re doing pretty good.
Just my thoughts.
S.
Fish Sandwich Anyone?
March 7th, 2010 by stephanie
Did you know that the Filet o Fish sandwich from McDonalds was a result of a religious tradition? It’s true. As I was flipping through the TIME magazine, my eyes fell on an article that was showing the menu transformation of the fast food chain McDonald’s over the years. It was the 1962 portion that caught my attention.
The general public these days don’t seem to be quite as aware as they used to be, that members of the Catholic faith, and those of other similar denominations, used to strongly adhere to the eating of only Fish on Fridays. That was the day they abstained from other meat. They fasted it, in a way. During that day, the focus was on “giving up”. Sacrificing. In honor, of sorts, for what Christ did for us via His sacrifice on the cross.
That tradition of the faith was such a part of Western culture, that Fish Fridays became a common option on most, if not all, eateries’ menus
But back to McDonald’s. Apparently, a man by the name of Louis Groen, of Cincinnati, Ohio, owned a Mickie D’s franchise. He contacted corporate headquarters letting them know that he needed help if he was to keep his Catholic customers–who wouldn’t eat meat on Friday. He was well aware that Catholics, for centuries, only ate Fish on Fridays, and he was seeing it in his sales.
Thus, the creation of the Filet-O-Fish in 1962
And so, now you know.
Knowing that we are in the midst of Lent, perhaps you have given something up, not just on Fridays, but during this 40-day fasting period. I have a friend who actually gave up Facebook. It’s been quite a challenge.
But for today, it’s all about the fish factor. Something for your water cooler chats this week.
Just my thoughts.
S.
If You Can’t Say Something Nice…
February 23rd, 2010 by stephanie
Most of us will admit, we grew up hearing the statement: If you can’t say something nice, don’t say anything at all.
If it didn’t come from our mothers it came from some other well meaning soul that wanted to help us along our way.
As we munched on our nachos, I spent the entire time debriefing my Friday. She sat across from me quietly listening, nodding, encouraging. It wasn’t until we decided to walk a bit of the mall and found a resting place that the hurt began to show in her day. In time, it was her turn to spill. As she shared a particular incident, all I could think of was, “Why do people have a need to be ‘mean’?”
Sometimes, it’s not even the saying of anything that hurts–it can simply be the actions. More times than not, I can remember where someone didn’t have to say a word. They were just “rude” or cruel in their behavior. I think you follow me on this one.
I was assisting a friend with a project awhile back. There were some other folks involved and for some reason, they just didn’t seem to like my presence. Rather than explain what the problem was, they decided to just, well, be rude. It wasn’t the words they chose necessarily as it was the tone, or their body language when they said it.
It’s amazing how people can say something like “Pass the stapler,” and make it sound like you just cut them off in traffic. It’s that vibe that gives off the-I have to be at my destination in five minutes-and you are in my way! It never ceases to amaze me when people in that frame of mind take out their anger on the person in their space and make them feel it is their fault. Strange.
And too, some people seem to have a need to let you know that the color or style of the shirt you’re wearing, “Just isn’t workin’ for ya today.” Or, perhaps you might want to rethink that “idea” you had. For whatever reason, they need to let you know, in some way, that you are a bit less, or inferior to them. Even more so, that they simply don’t like you. The thrill of the “jab”, I call it.
I don’t know how their treatment of you and me in those situations makes them feel better, but alas, I guess it does. Someone hurt them at some point in their life, they are still wincing from the pain, and they will make someone pay. And today, that someone will be you-or me.
With that, regardless of the odd-bird whoozits or whatzits in our lives today, let’s plan to remember this old saying too: misery loves company.
So, let’s not keep company with the miserables. Leave them alone. Let them go their way. And as for you and me, my friend, if we can’t say something nice back, let’s just not say anything at all.
Just my thoughts.
Stephanie
Prov. 15:1
Silence is Golden.
February 3rd, 2010 by stephanie
Silence is often misinterpreted, but never misquoted…
I can’t find the source to that quote, but I sure like it.
I am often amazed at the power of silence. A power I truly wish I fully understood and harnessed. But alas, my words usually find their way out into the world as we know it.
Do you ever notice that when someone sits silent, we have this tendency to think they might just know something we don’t know? It’s like they are holding in some grand secret that will be disclosed at the proper place and time. And we await with baited breath.
On the other side of that coin, however, is the person who, whatever comes into their mind exits their mouth. Those folks don’t always realize it, but on many occasions, the expression of their thoughts is duly dismissed by their hearers.
How many times have I heard that little voice deep in my heart warn me, “Keep it to yourself.” But, alas, my pride or whatever it is at the moment gets the best of me.
It you are just dying to say something today, but that warning system seems to quietly be beeping down inside, might I suggest, “Save it.” For a better time. A better place.
There’s an ancient proverb or two that backs up that tidbit of advice for today. See what you think:
Even a fool, when he keeps silent, is considered wise; when he closes his lips he is considered prudent. Proverbs 17:28
I like this one too:
A time to tear apart and a time to sew together; a time to be silent and a time to speak. Ecclesiastes 3:7
Just my thoughts, well, and again, my words…
S.
What does “You’re Kidding” have to do with goats?
January 21st, 2010 by stephanie
While perusing a blog that was chatting up Christmas in the Pacific Northwest it surprised me when the writer took a turn in subject and started talking about his herd of goats.
Apparently, a guest to his home had noticed that one of this writer’s female goats (called a doe) was about to give birth and began to inquire as to when the time of “baby goat ’s” arrival might occur. I came to a complete halt in my reading when the blogger responded that his she-goat “would be kidding” in a few months.
Then, it hit me. “When, and where, on earth did we take a phrase that refers to goats giving birth and apply it to making sport, or joking?” I had to know. So, off to the google world I went.
Apparently, what I found most was the comparison that read: “If you have ever seen young goats playing, you may understand why.” hmmmmmm
We had a goat when I was a little girl during the time we lived in Quartz Hill, CA. His name was Chocolate Hunt. He used to butt me off the picnic table my mom would place me on as she hung up the laundry outside on the line to dry. But I digress…
How did we get from human children playing like goats to joking? In 1811 to kid meant “to coax, hoax or humbug” in thieves’ slang, and by 1839 it had softened a bit (and expanded from the circle of thieves) to mean “tease playfully, talk jokingly”.
Whatever the true origins, I had trouble tracking them down. And if you know them, please let us know! One thing I do know, today we simply say something we really mean and then quickly follow it with “I was just joking!” or, “Can’t you take a joke?” or the “Just kidding!” Sometimes, we really are kidding, and sometimes, the receiver of the joke understands that. But that is not always the case. And we do need to be aware of that reality.
It suddenly occurred to me, that you can actually find this topic addressed in the Scriptures. The Bible. I list them here.
Gen. 19:14 ¶ So Lot went out and spoke to his sons-in-law, who were pledged to marry his daughters. He said, “Hurry and get out of this place, because the LORD is about to destroy the city!” But his sons-in-law thought he was joking.
Prov. 26:18, 19 ¶ Like a madman shooting firebrands or deadly arrows is a man who deceives his neighbor
and says, “I was only joking!”
Eph. 5:4 and there must be no filthiness and silly talk, or coarse jesting, which are not fitting, but rather giving of thanks.
Funny, but the idea of kidding around and joking have been around awhile. It’s how we handle ourselves during the giving and the receiving that truly matters at the end of the day.
Just my thoughts,
S.
Source: www.coffeeblogger.org
http://www.takeourword.com/TOW199/page2.html
Tebow: Outside the norm, never to conform.
January 13th, 2010 by stephanie
In August of 1987, deep in the Philippines, Bob and Pam Tebow (who were serving as Christian missionaries at the time) were expecting the birth of a baby boy. During her pregnancy, Pam had been diagnosed with a life-threatening infection. Drugs were used to rouse her from the coma she had fallen victim to, and, to treat her dysentery. Those drugs caused the baby inside of her to experience a severe placental abruption. Doctors warned that a stillbirth would be likely and abortion was suggested in order to save her life. She said “No,” however, and carried Timothy to term. Both mother and baby survived.
In time, the Tebows returned to the states and moved to Jacksonville, Florida. Timothy began to show an amazing talent for football, but as a homeshooled child, it appeared his options might be limited. To their surprise, Florida passed a law in the late 90’s allowing students of homeschooling to participate on the team of the local school in the school district in which they live. While the rest of his family continued living on a farm, Tim and his mother moved to town and took up residence that would make him eligible to play for the football team at Nease. His abilities were soon being noticed.
In both his junior and senior years, he was named the state of Florida’s Player of the Year with an amazing memory being that of his finishing of a game on a broken leg. During his senior season he led the Nease Panthers to a state title, earned All-State honors, was named Florida’s Mr. Football and a Parade All-American. Tebow finished his high school career with 9,810 passing yards, 3,186 rushing yards, 95 passing touchdowns and 62 rushing touchdowns.
But there’s more. Not only is he known for painting those now famous Scripture references on his cheekbones for games, he’s been known to turn some heads off the field as well.
He attended the ESPNU College Football Awards recently and had the privilege of walking the red carpet. Take a look at who he invited to take that walk with him. He is definitely a man who not only beats the odds, but goes against the flow and — in style.
Thank you, Tim. For being such a class act in the midst of great talent. May you inspire others to do likewise.
http://www.brittonchurch.com/2009/12/14/you-cant-be-hatin-on-this/
Just my thoughts.
S.
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