Tag: happiness

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essays international Issues life Making Changes musings reflections

Can We Make Fewer Babies?

All this talk about overpopulation is finally beginning to hit home. Lately, it seems like almost everywhere I go, hordes of people come crawling out of the woodwork.

It’s really becoming annoying. Take, for example, a trip to the mall. You have to use a slide rule to calculate the ideal time to go, to avoid peak hour pedestrian traffic trampling you underfoot.

At the rate the world population is growing, many of us will have to consider living on another planet in some distant galaxy.  It won’t be long before scientists discover a suitable planet to colonize and they build a faster-than-light-speed spacecraft to take us there. I’m going to make sure my retirement account is healthy enough to buy a one-way ticket for me and my family to make the journey.

Starting over, however, is not going to be easy.  There won’t be any NFL or NBA games to watch, golf to play, books to read, or computer games to play—save the ones we take with us.  My wife and daughter will miss Lifetime, Housewives, nail salons, and shopping malls, to mention only a few life staples, before civilization reasserts itself.

How did we get ourselves into this situation? According to an actuarial study commissioned by the US Social Security Service, life expectancy has increased by 28 years for men and 26 years for women from 1900 to 2001. According to the same study, this is due to several factors:

• Access to primary medical care for the general population

• Improved healthcare provided to mothers and babies

• Availability of immunizations

• Improvements in motor vehicle safety

• Clean water supply and waste removal

• Safer and more nutritious foods

• Rapid rate of growth in the general standard of living

I’d like to add one more item to this list: Thanks to medical science, people are living longer. In my humble opinion, some people are living longer than they should. Please allow me to explain.

As I write this, I’m sitting in a cancer center waiting for a vitamin B-12 shot and thanking God I don’t have cancer. I see people shuffle in, many in their eighties and nineties, supported by walkers and canes, wearing bandages, heads bent, half asleep. You have to feel sorry for these people while praying you don’t wind up like them.

Certainly, cancer has many causes, but one of them is simply the aging process. We reach a point where our immune system grows too feeble to protect us. At this point, the party is over. We become like AIDS patients before the curative cocktail, with nothing to look forward to but one disease after another.

Yet people hang on, thanks to the wonders of medical science, hoping life will one day be worth living again. Maybe that day will come when full-body transplants become available. If this doesn’t happen in the next ten or twenty years, I hope I will have the wisdom to know when it’s time to gracefully exit stage right (or left.) To put it another way, to have the courtesy to make room for someone else and stop contributing to escalating healthcare costs.

In the meantime, I’ll go on meditating, exercising and pursuing the interests that make me feel happy-from-the-heart. And for the sake of EVERYONE’S quality of life, can we PLEASE be a little more conscious by making fewer babies?

Planet Colonization
Planet Colonization
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essays life Making Changes motivation musings

Living With No Downside

Image Source: http://www.grist.org

Open your mental windows.  Let your attitude bathe in the sunshine of optimism.  Don’t worry about the possibility of sunburn.

That’s a pretty corny metaphor.  Just imagine, however, what would happen if every chronic pessimist on the planet took this advice.

The cost of healthcare would plummet. There would be fewer traffic accidents. The unemployment rate would nose dive. The average human life span would increase by five or ten years.  These are just a few of the likely outcomes of a few billion upgraded attitudes.

My optimistic attitude is based on the belief that at the very center of the universe in which we live there dwells a loving kindness that cares about our happiness and well-being.

When I choose to believe and to feel this way, life becomes easier.

Through the eyes of optimism, I see the world as a place full of endless possibilities to express myself positively.

There is a voice in my head that tries to convince me otherwise.  I suspect I am not the only person who hears this derisive, discouraging voice.  The only difference between most of us in this regard, it seems to me, is how we deal with this voice.

I used to believe the discouraging voice in my head was a friendly voice.  I believed it was there to warn me not to try things I couldn’t or shouldn’t do.  It has taken a lot of growing through painful experience to learn the critical voice was not my friend most of the time.

On the surface, it would seem an easy task to learn the difference between healthy self-restraint and the paralyzing fear engendered by an over-abundance of self-criticism.  Perhaps the messages a person hears as a child from parents and teachers makes a difference in the way he or she responds to their inner critic.  A strong self-image provides a safe haven from the twin sirens of doubt and fear.

I have found it helps to express your fears to a friend or to a mental health professional to get an objective view of your thoughts as they relate to accomplishing goals.  Most fears, when expressed out in the open, prove to be phantoms made of irrational thinking.

Image Source: http://www.bestlifein.com

The dream in your heart needs to be nurtured with positive, reinforcing thoughts in order for it to manifest into a concrete reality.  It takes a persistent, consistent effort to escape the prison of the jailing voice of discouragement.

Being optimistic is an act of loving yourself and your possibilities.  It is an act of flying above the clouds of doubt.

Personal fulfillment and the joy of helping others flow from the fountainhead of optimism.

An attitude of optimism leads to an active life of freedom.

Opportunities for growth and prosperity surround us constantly.  Smile. Open your heart and embrace these gifts as they come your way.  The loving force at the center of life beckons you to become your highest, happiest, and best self.

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fiction inspiration life musings reflections short stories

Something More Than Telewars

Grayson found it hard to breathe.  Sweat poured from his forehead, down his crimsoned cheeks, onto the stiff collar of his white shirt.

The cubicles surrounding Grayson in the sprawling call center buzzed with activity.

“This is Grayson Sellers speaking.  May I have your contract number please?”

“Habla Espanol?”

“I only speak English,” Grayson replied.

“Where are you from, Amigo?”

“We’re not supposed to disclose personal information.  Please describe your problem so that I can help you.”

“Don’t get excited, hombre.  I ‘m just being friendly.

“I appreciate that.  The problem is we have to complete a certain number of calls in an hour.  If we fall short, we have to have a good explanation.  Now, how can I help you?”

“Do you like your work?”

Grayson made no reply.  They hadn’t given him a script for a situation like this.

He peered over his cubicle walls in all directions for signs of his supervisor.  She was cruising three rows to the south in a bright pink dress and one-inch heels.  Despite the low heels, the sturdy woman easily topped six feet.  Her keen eyes scanned the room for the slightest hint of operator error.

“To be perfectly honest, I’m not crazy about working here, but the pay is great.”

“I’m a landscape architect—love my customers and they love me.  Business is booming like you wouldn’t believe.

“I’m happy for you.”  Can we please get to your insurance issue?”

He imagined the explanation for losing control of his temper and the call.  The customer was excessively friendly.

“Working indoors is not my gig,” the caller elaborated.

“I get panic attacks.”  The words tumbled out of Grayson’s mouth by themselves.

“I feel for you, Hermano.”

He heard heavy footsteps approaching.  The supervisor pulled up like an army tank reversing on its treads.  “You’re sweating, Sellers.  Do you have a fever?”

Grayson dabbed his forehead with a handkerchief.  “Just a little summer cold, Mrs. Wilson”

“Be sure to cover your mouth when you sneeze.”

A few rows away, an operator raised her voice.  Mrs. Wilson’s head turned like a turret.  She clanked away.

Another casualty of the telewars, Grayson thought.

“I could use another good man.  Why don’t you call me after your shift?”

“You don’t even know me.”

We’ll talk.  Then I’ll know you better.”

It was against the rules to use customer records for anything except work for the company.  There was a rule attached to almost everything he did inside these walls.

Against his better judgment, Grayson jotted down the name and phone number on his computer screen.

The call proceeded smoothly to completion.

That night, Grayson dreamed of a plant nursery in South Miami he had visited as a boy.  He played tag with his younger sister among acres of Royal Palm trees.  He wandered between rows of potted orchids blooming in beautiful pastel colors.  He inhaled the rich floral perfume.   The warm sun and a cool winter breeze kissed his cheeks.