App Store Complete Set

1. Flux Capacitor Oscillation Overstruster. Great for exploring the space time continuum at accelerated speeds. No barriers, no limits.

2. Infrared Cooktop. Great for keeping that cup of coffee hot. Cup O' Noodles. A special hand warmer setting. And, for large tablets only: stadium bench heater.

3. Candy Crush Color Bomb. When you need to do something drastic . . . and, quick.

4. Candy Crush Nirvana. It's possible. Just keep playing. And . . . paying.

5. Kitty Cuteness-O-Meter. One touch check-it-out before you share on the social media.

6. Lava Lamp. Create the right mood. For "lovin' it" in the van. Shagadelic, man!

  
7. Neuralizer. For starting over with a clean (mental) slate.

8. Nip Alert. Never miss a thing. (Oh, you know what we mean.) 

Works like this: 

9. Apple [on your] Brain . . . Get smart! Connect your keppe to the infinitude of all information ... BIG DATA. Gives you total control. And, absolute perfect execution. Stuck? No problem. Just swipe the "CLOUD NOW!" function and you can spend as much time as you care to fully controlled by the "Higher Power®"*, colloquially known as the final and ultimate algorithm.

The "CLOUD NOW" is set to a default time-in-use at 4 hours. Longer than that and we will call your doctor for you. And, the police. Not to worry, though. Foolproof. Never fail. Secure. 

* "Higher Power®" is a registered trademark of EmmCoTech®. 

10. Instant Chinese ... for Social Media Consumption. When you want to share a picture, but the food isn't all that, all that. Use the "Outsourced the China", aka "Instant Wok" app and your culinary creations will astound all your [virtual] friends.

How about some Ramen? Voilà!

Here's how it works for Pea Soup. Pretty snazzy, heh?

There's no end to the possibilities . . . 

http://wronskiwrambles.blogspot.com/p/app-store.html

Jokes Mom Told

You might not tell from her expression in the above photo, but my mother enjoyed hearing a good joke. Told some herself too . . .

A women up in years was very anxious to wed. At a social mixer one evening she met a man, and they seemed to hit it off.

"Tell me about yourself?" she asked.

"Well, I just got out of prison."

"Prison? What did you do?"

"Murder, he confessed". 

"Who did you kill?" she asked.

"My wife."

"Oh . . . so you're single!"

Dear Madame De Gaulle. Like her husband, le General, she was a conservative. Even a bit of a prude, some would even say. 

She spoke only a little English.

Imagine the surprise and shock when an American reporter once asked her what was her most cherished thing in the world, and she replied, “Ha-PEE-nis!”

Of course, knowing the French — and who knows what goes on behind closed doors — she may have also been fond of le General’s nose. 

Giving mother respect.

I am thinking about how our mothers share in our lives. Our joys are theirs. And our sorrows.

Our sharing is not just in terms of outer events, like getting together and keeping in touch. Stories. But, in some mysterious way, more directly and intimately in the conduct of our lives and our experiences. It may be that our mothers feel us living inside them. Maybe not directly as such. But, in a shared resonance.

Also, Mother Earth, doesn't she also share in our lives. And, maybe, in a way more visible and apparent. When we live heedless of our surroundings ignoring our responsibility to be good stewards of the Earth . . . that has consequence. To the body of our Mother Earth, the environment. And it reflects itself in quality of the air we breathe, the purity of the water we drink, the goodness of the food we grow and consume.

Divorce
D  /  I  /  V /  O /  R  /  C  /  E

It May Still Be Hurting . . . Somewhere . . . Someone

A man who is unconscious of himself acts in a blind, instinctive way and is in addition fooled by all the illusions that arise when he sees everything that he is not conscious of in himself coming to meet him from outside as projections upon his neighbour.

— Carl Gustav Jung "The Philosophical Tree" (1945). 

The range of what we think and do is limited by what we fail to notice. And because we fail to notice that we fail to notice, there is little we can do to change; until we notice how failing to notice shapes our thoughts and deeds.

— R. D. Laing

I divorced. It was probably the worst thing that ever happened to me. And, perhaps, the best. 

Up until then I was living the scripted dream. Not a clue about who or what I am, but being who I was expected to be and doing what I was told. Be a good boy, study hard, get good grades, finish school, start a career, start a family, see the kids off well on their own, retire, savor the golden years and a wonderful store of memories. Then, die. The last part doesn't usually get on the list until it's staring you in the face. Then it could be too late if you have waited for the house to be on fire before digging the well. 

Sometimes love don't feel like it should. Maybe she loved me enough to kick me out. Not to say that was my bride's motive; but the universe's, I'm quite sure. I had some lessons to learn. And, when your karma comes knocking, you will open the door. Or, have it opened for you. But, open nonetheless.

I was an ignoramus. Deluded, distracted, and ... full of it. Was?! (There are other opinions. Perhaps a concensus) The irony from my perspective is that just as I was waking up to the reality that I had it wrong in so many ways, the die was cast, and the momentum toward that break up was well under way. It was indeed a tragedy in any event. Not just for the loss and the broken hearts. But, the very idea of separation. Is there really any separation? In the Christian marriage vows it is traditionally asserted, "What God has joined together, let no man put asunder". The Church may apply it to marriage in an attempt to put some weight on people to hang in there to make things work. In the total scheme of things, however, God has indeed joined all things together in his vast Creation. Separation is in the realm of appearances only. In Reality, it is an illusion. Funny, I got that from the Buddhists. And, you know what they think about God? Short answer; they don't.

I should also mention what with the divorce rate at 50% or so in this still early part of the 21st Century that it doesn't help marriage much in terms of keeping it together to be surrounded by a culture which promotes the pleasure of the moment, where every individual is free to see things in whatever relative way may suit them, and where romantic love is still promoted; the latter which only makes it inevitable when the bloom of passion fades, then why wouldn't anyone go looking for the next new thing. Or, when some new thing shows up, why not follow that. Hey! we're in love.

We can rationalize our own histories. I have my story. If anyone cared to ask, I would put it this way. At a moment of grace I realized that I was one lost sheep.* The divorce — and, by the way, also the simultaneous ending of a long career in business — was part of the Universe's message to me to wake the heck up (!). I saw the inevitability and necessity even then. In retrospect, it had to be. Existentially, how else could it have been.

I also saw into the myth we call "Family" from how people, even so called loved one's, behaved. If you want to know who your friends are, trying divorcing. Sides tend to be drawn. The impersonators show themselves unashamedly. Alas, the children too, may think they have to take sides. Someone is right, someone is wrong. On me, the prize of the latter designation has been bestowed. Of course, there's also the possibility that your children will wrongly assume it is their fault. It's an easy trap for their inexperienced minds to fall for.

It is of fundamental importance not to make the positivist mistake of assuming that because a group’s members are in formation this means that they’re necessarily on course.

— R. D. Laing 

But, Family. Family is a game. A very nice game. One I subscribe to like everyone else. But, that game, like any other, has rules. In order to stay in the game you have to play by the rules. One participates in Family with the implicit promise and expectation that the rules will be observed, stated or no. Indeed, many of those rules are in fact unstated. At its worst it is a mutual collusion with the unspoken agreement to maintain the same fictions. Sort of like, hey, it's a shit pile. But, it's our shit pile. And we all agree on how it smells. And we all agree to like it that way. 

At its best, it gives all members enough loving space to express themselves freely, without judgement or fear of reprisal. In the dysfunctional family — I've heard it someplace that the definition of family is . . . dysfunctional — we don't call each other on our games, or our prejudices. Say something we don't like or don't agree with, and risk censure or ostracization. [Like some of the things I'm writing in this piece. But hey, I got nothing to lose. I'm already on the outs. Minds are made up.]

And, we have our favorites. And, hierarchies. I know of one who will be unnamed paterfamilias who, even now departed, occupies the role of sainted parent and exemplary role model. The kind of man children and grandchildren name their own male child after. 

But, never mind that he may have been an unreconstructed bigot and racist. He used the N-word with the same kind of familiarity and ease one has when asking for a bag of potato chips at the convenience store. Also, he was what they call a good ol' boy. Never said an untoward thing. Never went against the grain; ever. Possibly, not even when it was the right thing to do. His role model might even have been Jimmy Stewart in "It's a Wonderful Life". A peach of a man, by everyone's estimation. But, let's not dwell on any flaws. And, with the passing of time, it may even come to pass that he will rise in shared memory to saintly status. He was loved. And, that is as it should be. But, the narrative painting him as hero ... I'm not a fan. He wasn't so keen on me either. 

The man showed nary a hint of introspection. Eschewed the inner life as if it were a command from God. Or, why rock the boat? Kept his uniform strack. Obeyed the rules. Just like any of us, he had his flaws, I'll bet. Maybe did the right thing only when he was sure no one would object. But certainly when everyone was watching. Kind of a human careerist. He knew how to polish the apple. The script of the family romance drama called for that role. And he now even in memory fills it with distinction. A child named after him to carry on the legacy. 

The foregoing will prove my point if there offense is taken. Maybe, also, prove that point that I am in fact [still] an ignoramus. Any umbrage just proves the shoe fits. And, your indignation is a sign of your complicity in some family myth. 

Woe to any family member who breaks or goes against the rules. We are invited to bring love into the Family nexus; but, of itself, the Family is not particularly loving. Family exists only in the consensus of the participants. How loving or not any particular family may be is something else. And, what's loving to some may be just a kabuki drama of nice manners to others. Family is a social construct of necessity and convenience. That is a good thing. 

This is not something to which we usually give much, if any, thought. Reflect on your own situation and see what rules are in place that are coercing you to maintain your status as a member of your Family. And, what it would look like if you didn't behave as expected.

In my ex-wife's family where I was an "Outlaw" (that's her revered father's term for "in-laws") there seems to have been a niche in the narrative for someone to play the role of "That-dirty-rotten-bastard-who-done-her-wrong". When I first arrived on that family scene I learned about the former husband of one of her aunts. He had that distinction. Not much said, but a clear indication that the guy was stone no good. Never discussed, just you knew there was strong disapproval. Even a sulky, brooding emotionally damaged daughter for good measure. 

Currently, I believe I have that particular honor. At a wedding where I was granted rare invitation I said good bye to my former Mother-in-law for what would be the last time. Her foot was ailing and she used a special therapeutic contraption. Jokingly I whispered in her ear that I bet if her foot was in better shape she'd be kicking me in the butt right now. She righteously retorted "That's right". So long, dear heart. Don't hold on to it any longer than you can. It only hurts you. And, you can't take it with you when you go. 

Point of fact, I think I may have graduated to a role tantamount to Who-has-ever-heard-of-him. My own daughters have fully engaged relationship with their mother. Wonderful. With their dad it's let's get together when we're in the vicinity and we have some spare time and it suits us. And, let's have it be in a public place like a restaurant because then the length of the visit can be kept short.

To exacerbate the situation in the divorce, others in our life may have had their own opinions on things. One such take, unabashedly put right to my face — from my dear brother no less — sees it as me abandoning my family. Strong stuff. I think that has more to do with his own need to see me as the bad guy. I did, after all, break up his cozy arrangement as the doted upon only child for his first nine years on earth.

Sides were also taken. That's classic, isn't it? Still remember my ex-wive's uncle getting me on that phone and telling me from some righteous position above me, that I was an "asshole". Ouch! And, dear sir, that makes you ... what? Right. 

I found out who my friends were too. Yet, even in the face of the disdain of loved ones, being shunned by them, I held it as my duty to myself and to them to find my true way. My life took a sharp turn toward that goal and everything before that had to be left behind. Now, please to understand, I didn't set up that goal by myself. It was presented to me. You know, the hand of Universal Fate, kind of thing. And I saw it. But, really didn't have to do anything but let it unfold. It was in the cards you could say. 

Some might call that a cop out. Let them.

Even after several years the shunning continues. Now that is real love, actually. Just in case I get some pangs of sentimental attachment. "Stay away . . . forever". I have recently been directly told in so many words if I don't like it, then that's my problem. And, for good measure, that all concerned have moved on and that they don't have any unfinished inner business going on when it comes to me. Could it be that it's just a case of out of sight out of mind. Oh yes, the gold standard for the family is to eschew introspection. So, if it's there, I might bring it up. So let's not bring it up. Let's not have him there. 

But, I know a little secret. My then recently ex-wife and I had a meet up once on the steps of the New York Public Library. Between those two famous lions. She tartly asserted to me, "You aren't in my life!" She had her own ignorance too. I responded by pinching her nose. A tactile asserting of the reality of what was right in front of her nose really. She protested. Just another proof of my abusiveness. But, she may have missed the point entirely; most likely, if I had to say. Yet, I know what she was saying. I wasn't in the commerce of her daily life. But, I was there with something to say as well. 

We are connected. It's in the nature of God's creation.

I was  — and, most certainly am — in her life. Don't you count me out, my darlings. My healing is yours. And, I don't care if you agree with this or not. The success of my project to be myself does not require agreement, support, or participation from anyone else. What's real can't be threatened. Just to suggest you may want to look at whatever disagreement, if any, with this you may have. And ask yourself, just who put it there? I am willing to be 100% responsible. Take as much responsibility as you will.

It is a pisser when you have children raised in an ethos which eschews introspection, and you are held in disrespect and distrust by them, while at the same time you're attempting to point them to look inside. For me, another lesson in trust. And, courage. Courage to let it go, not worry or concern. They are children of the Universe first. I didn't know who I was. So, I didn't directly instill in them any sense that they were anything other than two little girls. Which, dutifully they accepted.

Children do not give up their innate imagination, curiosity, dreaminess easily. You have to love them to get them to do that.

— R. D. Laing 

Here is a pertinent quote from The Sanity We Are Born With: A Buddhist Approach to Psychology by Chögyam Trungpa, page 166:

Confusion is two-sided; it creates a need, a demand for sanity. This hungry nature of confusion is very powerful and important. The demand for relief or sanity that is contained within confusion is, in fact, the beginning point of sanity. That is what moved Buddha to sit beneath the bodhi tree twenty-five hundred years ago — to confront his confusion and find its source.

Of course, the divorce left a dissonance, especially with our children. But, I believe that dissonance — that confusion — in its demand for relief and resolution is the grace for them to find their own sanity and forgiveness. My part is to let the Universe work in this situation. And, trust.

We parted company after ten years of marriage and the birth of two little girls. I was raised in the Roman Catholic Church which unequivocally forbids divorce. While I would be considered liberal in my stance on the Church's rule, the years of indoctrination had their effect. It was a devastating experience all around. Not least, for my darling little girls.

It has been several years and the wounds of the past are being healed. But I do reflect on the injunction, "What God has joined together, let no man put asunder". That's from Mathew and it is, as far as I know, the bedrock of the Catholic position on divorce. In short ... no way.

But, for good and bad motives, people divorce. The reasons are legion, and my point is not to cover the whole topic here. But, it seems to me that there is a larger meaning than just concerning marriage and divorce that I would like my children to understand.

I believe my ex-wife and I did ourselves and our children a disservice. It's one thing to decide to not live together. What often gets missed is that in reality the notion of separation, it is an illusion. And, one pays a tremendous price in aliveness and proper care of the soul for maintaining that fiction.  

Of course, the plain fact that daddy wasn't part of the usual household family scene was jarring enough. It broke my heart to hear, "Please come back and be our daddy again". My daughters are grown now with children of their own. I wonder if their own wounds are healed, or healing. I do know for certain my healing is their healing. Their relationship with me is mostly arms length. Cordial, of course. And, surface mostly. I do sometimes put in a word or two. But, if it doesn't agree with what they already think or want to do, it falls by the wayside. Let's just say I don't have the experience of being a parent whose children will do anything whatsoever just because I asked, or said so. The reason (pig headed?) given to me is that I don't approach things in the right way. I lecture. My take, what's the matter with you that you have to have things delivered in just a certain way? 

I seem to occupy a niche box in their heart. The term is called pigeonholed. I am not part of whatever family they live in, at least in the conventional getting-together sense. And, there's a problem with that. Not with whether or not we are getting together. But in the matter that concerns the heart.

You see, if your heart is closed anywhere to someone, then that part of your heart is not available to anyone. Including those who you are committed to, and want to, love unconditionally. Conversely, if your heart, or a piece of it, is only reserved exclusively for someone, then your whole heart is not available to anyone. There is a friction there that wants to be resolved. It won't go away until it is settled.

I do believe that friction can be a blessing in disguise. If you want to let it reveal itself. The option that is too easy to take is to just ignore it. Out of sight . . . kind of thing.

I don't have the answer to why there is so much divorcing going on. I have an opinion, of course. I want to say though, the seeds of discontent have to do with objectification. When you are in love there is no other. It's "I Thou". When troubles show up (and they always will when there are egos) there is a temptation to start to look at your loved one as a "her" or a "him". In short, there is a separation. Maybe mental at first. But, the story develops, you may even have some agreement from outside others, and finally you have a "HER!" or a "HIM!". It's called "crapping yourself out". Unless this separation gets cleared up, it's very easy to go to the next step and enfranchise the position legally.

So be it. Just to remember that the original sin in all this is the idea of separation itself. What God has put together, let no man put asunder. The Catholic Church bases its prohibition on divorce right there. But, the larger and more exquisite truth is what God has put together can't be in any way put asunder. As Mr. Dylan sings, "Ring them bells so the world will know That God is one.

Here is an excellent quote on the subject; specifically, on objectification:

Much of the disharmony in relationship can be attributed to our belief in objectivity — the notion that we experience other people the way they really are. This belief in objectivity tends to arise with the belief in separation. Through this separate me, I see separate others. Once this division is made in the mind, there is a tendency to believe that I, the subject, can see other people, the objects, exactly as they are. And in that tendency there is a kind of mental sleepiness or blindness to the fact that every time I see subject and objects, I am thinking. I fail to see that I am looking through a filter of thought. 

When we believe in objectivity, we have difficulty seeing that our thoughts, emotions, and sensations paint others in a way that is unique to us. Our views of other people are shaped by our memories, personal histories, cultures, worldviews, and psychological and emotional traits, along with various other influences. The painter is inseparable from her painting. We don’t see others the way they are. We see them the way we are.  

— Scott Kiloby

* From Osho . . .

. . . Come to understand the futility of so-called worldly life. . . . [One should understand] one thing — that something needs to be done immediately about his own being. If he goes on drifting in the old way, he will lose the whole opportunity of this life. . . . [He became] alert that up to now he has lived wrongly, has moved in wrong directions. Has been too concerned with things and not concerned with himself, has been too concerned with worldly prestige and power and has not been concerned about who he is. [He] is turning towards himself . . . [It] is a miracle — the energy is moving back towards oneself.

Ordinarily, the energy is moving away from you — towards things, targets, in the world. The energy is moving away from you, hence you feel empty. The energy goes away, never comes back; you go on throwing away energy. By and by you feel dissipated, frustrated. Nothing comes back. By and by you start to feel empty. The energy is just oozing out every day — and then comes death. Death is nothing else but that you are exhausted and spent. The greatest miracle in life is to understand this, and to turn the energy towards home. It is a turning-in. It is not that you leave the world. You live in the world — there is no need to leave anything, or go anywhere else. You live in the world, but in a totally different way. Now you live in the world but you remain centered in yourself; your energy goes on returning to yourself.

You are no longer out-going: you have become in-going. Of course you become a pool of energy, a reservoir, and energy is delight, sheer delight. Just energy there, overflowing, and you are in delight, and you can share, and you can give in love. This is the difference. If you put your energy into greed, it never comes back; if you put your energy into love, it comes back a thousand-fold. If you put your energy into anger, it never comes back. It leaves you empty, exhausted, spent. If you use your energy in compassion, it comes back a thousand-fold . . .

On our interconnectedness ...

Messages from the Moon

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Lego My People

It's so interesting how inspiration comes, and from what. 

For instance. My young grandson recently presented his mother with a toilet made with Lego parts. The commode was replete with, in my daughter's words, "Pee and poo".  He must have been quite pleased with himself. She was so proud to share the photo of it with friends. The boy is an artist, a realist. Perhaps, in some way, a surrealist. Do I have a witness?

Now don't think I becoming sacrilegious here. On the contrary. I also shared the photo of his great endeavor with friends, and one that keeps kosher made a comment. Since it is Passover time 2014 I had the idea to do something related to the Holiday based on Legos. 

In searching for le mot juste for the image of the Lego matza, "Lego my people" seemed to be the way to go.

Anyhow, and further, in thinking about Moses' command to Pharaoh — "Let my people go" — it seemed that this command is still appropriate down to this very time. It applies to all of us. 

Just as Pharaoh was keeping the Jewish People in bondage I notice how I tend to harbor not so high opinions and down judgments about others. I was raised Christian. But, it's the same message. "Let [my people] go." Let go.

Because, if I can share anything about what I've learned so far, it's that what we hold against others, we also hold against ourselves. So, let's be practical. Let go. 

Blessings for the Passover and Easter season. 

The Great Wronskoni

Sorry it's on such short notice. Tonite is THE night. April 1, 2014. 

Mention you saw this here and get a comp something or other.

CLICK to go to the whole hystericity of the Family Wronski. All my relations.

Red's Place

At the start home from a recent jaunt to Amish Country in Lawrence County, Pennsylvania we gassed up at Red's Place. We only discovered after the fact that it was called Red's place, and a whole wonderful story it turned out to be.

Above is Mr. Red Hisself. Mr. Ronald E. "Red" Proudfoot, for the record. He has been the owner/operator of the eponymous full service car care establishment since 1977. The place itself goes back to 1935 when it first opened as Troy Hill's Sterling Super Service Station in 1935. Sterling was a brand of the Quaker State Oil Company. You know; Sterling, as in Jolly Old England Sterling. In the photo above next to Red is an original gas pump light from the era.

If you read the newspaper announcement you will see that a "car service station" back in the day was something new and special. Not the kind of full service gas stop we have currently come to expect . . . with coffee — make that coffees — any kind of donut, sandwiches and the prerequisite Slim Jims. To name just a very small few. Quiche even, if you please.

You can feel the pride of ownership and spirit of service in the newspaper advertisement. Red Proudfoot carries on in that fine tradition. He and his establishment are testament to small businesses and the kind of pride of service you don't see coming much from corporate America. But, then again, Red's didn't feature a cornucopia of tasty delights. Just gas, oil, and grease. Replacement wiper blades, belts, and oil filters. 

We came to discover all this by coincidence. After I got a read on the recent winter weather chatting the man up as he filled the tank — that's right, he filled the tank — I went inside the service station to pay my bill. By the way, the place is the same as in the above picture, except for a modern weather canopy out in front covering the gas pumps. And, of course, the prices have gone up a bit since 1935. If you're a self-service type, there's also a facility for that; but, next door around the corner.

My first sense on entering the front office was a sensory overload of what for me is the quintessential aroma of a proper service station: an exquisite mixture of the heady scents of oil, grease, and rubber; with a faint whiff perhaps of gasoline. And, the mysterious compounding of these elements over the course of many years. I called for Michele to come out from the car and come inside to share the experience of what a "proper service station" smells like. (If you take your shoes in for repair at a small proprietor shop, you also know the wonders of the perfume of leather, glue, and rubber. Or, the intoxicating scent of tire rubber at a fully stocked bicycle shop in the middle of summer, sans air conditioning.)

Looking around inside the service bay opposite the office is a wall of license plates from all over and different years. "There's a story to every one of them" we were told. 

The one from New Mexico on the right was from a lady who was travelling through, on her way to relocating in Maine. Hot and dry to cold and wet, I observed. Well, Red asked for the plate and the thoughtful women mailed it to him from her new home in Maine. If you visit Red's yourself, be sure to examine the collection and pick up another story for yourself.

I didn't ask, but the huge old street signal box is probably quite a story in itself. You know the drill: Red is for stop, green is go. Yellow, go really fast. 

I took liberties with the photo image and added some illumination. 

One last thing to mention, you'll see a collection of metal signs at Red's. Notice the date on the Coca-Cola sign.

Thanks Red. 

See you next time.

Don't Waste Gravity

A Waste of Gravity

When you’re tuned in to how to correctly cooperate with gravity, you’re tuned in to the world. Tuned in, not as an idea, but as a lived experience. Not as a concept, but as a percept.

Gravity is an ineluctable environmental fact. But would you believe it if someone told you the force of gravity is on the leading edge of the ecological frontier? What? What? Understandably, the force of gravity is so steady and ever-present we are inured to it, unconscious to its presence.

Well then, consider something that is as plain to see as a mud fence. What we observe walking around every day around us is a wide variety of patterns of use of the human body which, to one extent or another, show signs of being at odds with the simple architectural dictates of gravity. Coming straight to the point, the doctor diagnoses your condition: “Out of Whack.”

The human body is like any other physical structure on earth. Architects and building trade workers know that things need to be “plumb and square” to hold together, to work properly, to last. The anatomical design of the human body calls for the same. Things need to be stacked up vertically, level, and symmetrical. In that correct, or normal stance, you experience living effortlessly upright, unstressed, easy, and free. Thing power, presence, grace. Capable, spacious,fluid. As the writer Scott Russell Sanders who was quoted in Reader's Digest so elegantly phrased it, “When the bubble is lined up between two marks etched in the glass tube of a level, you have aligned yourself with the forces that hold the universe together.”

On an everyday basis, however, we are mostly living with only a rough approximation of what the design of the body calls for in terms of correct or normal adaptation to the force of gravity. And when I say “mostly” I’m saying that it is rare to see the kind of grace and ease and power and presence manifest in our fellow men and women. When we do see it we are naturally moved by those manifest qualities. We recognize it as our birthright. We want it for ourselves. 

The situation of our species-wide lack of adaptation to the requirements of the force of gravity may never get recognized as such, and thus continues to self-perpetuate until and unless there is an intervention to alter its pattern. Most people function in an endless recursive feedback loop of fixated bodily patterns and regularly elicited feelings and emotions. Those patterns get set in over time because they continue to reflexively prompt the same sets of feelings and emotions which formed them in the first place. For most of us living vertically upright and balanced in the makeup of our bodies is still over the horizon as an evolutionary potential. 

My aim in writing this is to make it visible on that horizon. Like when Columbus sailed to the New World, the story goes that the natives did not see the ships; only the wise elders saw. 

Another way to express it is that we are shaped by our experiences, set in our ways. And, few of us question whether this is necessary or that anything can be done about it. We take it as a given. We become identified with those patterns ingrained into the fabric of our bodies. Attached. Literally. You could draw the analogy of a bird on a branch: “perched” there, holding on for support. We maintain the body patterns which got fixed into the fabric of our flesh which are a result of our individual unique history of bad habits, limited training, and accidents and traumas. This goes on all the time without pause and thus becomes our inadvertent default state.

We relate to it unquestioningly as if it is somehow genetically ordained. We leave it at, “Well, that’s just the way I am.” Or, “I was born that way.” We put up with living below our potential, robbed of vitality, energy diverted into maintaining imbalanced structural arrangements in the make-up of our bodies. These put a damper on productivity, physical performance and mental capacity, and creative expressiveness.

What’s worse, over time our bodies become fixed into patterns based on repetitive use. Imbalanced patterns betray our ignorance of gravity. We live at odds with the upright and level equipoise so very clearly called for in the human anatomical design. 

This need not be. At least in that respect, you weren’t born that way. Just that some bad habits may have set in, and some accidents and traumas haven’t been fully processed. And, oh yes, and who taught you how to walk, to stand, to sit? You went to school and learned so many things; but, on the point of how to use your body correctly — which, by the way, is at the center of all you do — you were mainly self-taught. The models on which we’ve patterned ourselves probably wouldn’t be getting any prizes as examples of correct body balance themselves. Mother didn’t always know best, every time.

Now that you know . . . don’t waste the opportunity with gravity! Your date is waiting on the doorstep.

Nevertheless, unless you’re a rocket scientist or drop the teacup, gravity gets little attention on an everyday basis. Understandably, the pull of gravity is so constant and ever present we easily become unconscious to it. What’s more, the very real survival issues presented these days by other ecological concerns already in our face may make the question of gravity — and the consequences of the ways we are misusing gravity — seem less urgent. Maybe even meaningless. So much so, it’s probably not even on the radar. So easy to let slip by. “Don’t waste gravity!” “What. Huh? Next?”

It is arguable, however, that becoming conscious and actively engaged in our lived relationship to gravity will have far reaching effects in all aspects of our lives. Not the least of which would be an awakened awareness and engagement with those other pressing matters at or soon to be at our doorstep. Simply put, when you’re tuned in to how you yourself operate in the gravitational field of the Earth, you get tuned in to the world. As a colleague used to love to say, “What we need around here is a firm grasp of the obvious!”

Yet we waste a great opportunity and lose productivity because we ignore it. Not to mention how this depresses the general quality of our life experience, and limiting performance and creative expressiveness. For want of access to our native inner resources we lack the creativity for adapting effectively to change and seeing the road clear to improving our ecological stance on the Earth. 

What to do?

Well, my preference is you call me and book an appointment to start a series of Rolf Structural Integration. Or, at least give some thought to how the way the makeup of your body and its imbalances affect your health, vitality, performance, and expression. Once you make the connection and come to the conclusion that you’d be better off in balance and in line with gravity, you’ll know what to do. Like a moth to the flame.

If you’re not reaching for the telephone right now, here are sometips to get you going in the right direction.

And, when you are ready to get it done call a professional trained in Rolf Structural Integration. 

That is, if you REALLY want to LIVE!