Thought for the Day: I Remember

The look you get from a child should remind you when you tell him, 

"Wait until tomorrow."

Thought for the Day: Answering Questions

"When a child asks you something answer him, for goodness, sake. But don't make a production of it. Children are children but they can spot an evasion faster than adults, and evasion simply muddles 'em."  - Harper Lee, To Kill a Mockingbird

Thought for the Day

Have you ever marveled at the disappointment

you feel when people don't do what you didn't

ask them to do, but expected?

Herb Ratliff

Why Not Dance?

If we’re kept within a prison

there’s no lock can make us stay.

Lest our hapless, weary posture

simply let’s us waste away.

And if songs are sung around us

in the Winter or the Spring

But our voice is deathly silent

It’s not the fault of quieting.

When the wren darts to the sill plate

of the window we look out

And the song bursts from his small heart

lauding life and love, no doubt.

Dare we not release the handcuffs

which lock us down each day

And find somewhere within us

Something good or kind to say?

Reach out farther, oh my brother,

give your heart and mind a chance

Lift your spirit and your heels

It is your life, so why not dance?

Herb Ratliff, January 4, 2013, All Rights Reserved

Charity, Christmas and an Angel

I got this from a friend that I have known since I was a child. I have no personal proof of it's truth but I find the story full of truth.
Merry Christmas
Herb

I would like to share with you a Christmas story that was shared in a meeting last week in the Training Zone. The story is written by Tamara Stitt and is an account from the diary of her great grandmother. She presented this account at a  Christmas Party in Rexburg, Idaho in December of 1990. The story is true.

"The true meaning of Christmas is charity. And the true meaning of charity is the unconditional love of Christ, which is the unconditional love of our fellowman. My great-grandmother, Beth, left me this story, which has had a tremendous impact on my life. She kept a detailed journal and this entry took place in the year 1900...

Carl, my great-grandfather was a rough, tough old trapper man who homesteaded what's called Burnscreek, Idaho, which is 15 miles above Heise, above Kelly Canyon. He took a team of horses and a sleigh and he built the road that you travel on today. He trapped furs for a living and sent them back east to Boston every fall, and every fall the fur trader in Boston would send him a check for the furs that he had received, until the year 1896, the fur trader had no money. But he was a man of honor so instead of sending him money, he sent him his 17 year old daughter as a mail-order bride and she was to become my great-grandmother. I think the reason she kept such a detailed journal is that's the only way she kept her sanity, as she wrote how badly she hated Burnscreek, Idaho. What a cultural shock it was from Boston, Massachusetts, and how she never could quite forgive her father for doing this to her.

In December 1900, when she made this entry in her journal she was 24 years old and pregnant with her fourth child. She wrote that she had asked Carl to take the remaining furs to the valley and trade them for the things she'd asked for in her Christmas list. She was embarrassed at how much she had wanted that year, for on her list she'd asked for three things: peppermint, chocolate, and a little piece of yard goods to make her only little girl a dress for Christmas.

She wrote that Carl had heartily agreed to take the furs to the valley and to trade them for supplies and for the items on her Christmas list. He told her that he would be home early on Christmas Eve morning and that he would bring with him a tree that he would stop and chop for his children. He left her in fine shape with lots of wood chopped and that the only thing she needed to do every day was to go out to the barn and milk the old cow.

The first day was delightful. They made ornaments for the tree that their father would bring home. They also made Christmas pudding. Late that night a tremendous storm hit the mountain. It snowed and it blowed like nothing she had ever seen before. The storm did not subside until early on Christmas Eve morning. When it finally died down enough that she could hear herself think, the wind was still howling, but she could hear that poor old cow in the barn bellowing to be milked.

She wrote how she tried to get the front door of the cabin open and physically pushed and worked for one hour and ten minutes. She could not get the door open. She knew that something must have frozen on it from the outside. Even though logic told her to stay calm, she panicked and she took the axe from beside the hearth and chopped the hinges off the door to slide the door over. She was faced with a tremendous ice strip that had fallen off the top of the cabin, so she took her axe and shopped a hole through it, big enough that she might step out to the other side. She couldn't believe the devastation that the storm had left, how high the drifts were, and how hard it was still snowing, and how hard the wind was still blowing.

She could hear that poor old cow in the barn bellowing to be milked, what empathy she had for it. She said that she was afraid that she couldn't make it out to the barn herself and back again. So she tied one end of a rope to the doorstop and one to her waist and started out towards the barnyard. She got less than a few yards when she realized that being with child she dare not go any farther because the snow was over waist deep, so she stopped in her tracks and said a silent prayer to her Heavenly Father that Carl would hurry home early that day and that the poor old cow might forgive her.

She spent the rest of the day waiting for Carl in great anticipation...Christmas Eve came and ...went and Carl had not returned home. She was just about to put three cranky children to bed when she heard someone outside the cabin. They all rushed to the door where she slid if off its hinges once again to peer out the little hole of ice.

She anticipated seeing Carl. She wrote how her heart sunk, for there on the other side of her doorstep stood the dirtiest, straggliest old trapper she had ever seen. But to three little children on Christmas Eve, an old man with red long johns, a long white beard, a tree in one hand, and a pack over his back, was a most welcome sight in their home. Those children gleefully explained, "See Mother, Santa did find Burnscreek, Idaho after all!"

She said that he looked at her and must have felt her great anticipation of where her husband was, and felt her hesitation at letting him into her house so he stared her straight in the eye and said, "Beth, don't be afraid. Carl's at Table Rock at Spaulding's trapper cabin with a lame horse." He said, "I was out on snowshoes this night and told him I was going to check my own lines and that I'd stop off and tell you that he was alright, that he'd be home early in the morning and bring you this straggly old tree and this pack that he'd sent from the valley."

So she brought him in the house and fed him stew from her fire. She wrote he helped set up the tree and helped the children decorate it. She judged him to be a man of fine character because he could recite the story of Christ's birth by heart from the Bible. He carried the children to bed and helped her putout her meager Christmas gifts. The old trapper chopped more firewood and milked the cow. he told her he had no family of his own, but  thanked her sincerely for letting him spend such a wonderful Christmas Eve with her family. He asked if it might be all right if he spent the night in the barn and he would leave early in the morning to go on up Black's Canyon to check his traps. She told him only on one condition, that he join them in the morning for Christmas breakfast. He heartily agreed, thanking her once again before retiring to the barn.

She wrote that that was the very first time  she'd had a chance to look inside the old, worn, leather pack that had been sent by Carl. She went to bed a happy woman, for there inside the bag was peppermint, chocolate, and little piece of yard goods. She woke up the next morning to the children's gleeful sounds underneath her tree and it grew late into the morning before she realized that the old trapper had not joined them.

Just as she was going to the barnyard she noticed Carl was coming over the horizon. They all gathered at the front door to welcome their father home in wild anticipation and to tell him, "We have Santa locked in the barn!" Carl looked stern and tired and sent the children into the house. He asked her who was in the barn. She said, "Well, Carl, it was just the old trapper who came last night and brought me the tree and the pack and to tell me that you would be home early this morning."

He said, "I never even made it to the valley. I made it as far as Table Rock when the storm hit, and I went to Spaulding's trapper's cabin and tied my horse to a tree. Another old trapper had tried to water his horse at the river and had fallen through the ice. It took three of us to fish him out, and we could tell he was a goner but we took him into the cabin and rolled him in blankets, and laid him by the fire and stayed with him until early on Christmas Eve when the storm broke. We hesitated and pondered what to do, but all three of us were anxious to get to the valley so that we could return home to our families on Christmas Eve. So we stoked up the fire a little, wrapped him a little tighter, and left him lying in front of the fire.

We saddled up our horses and started down the lane.  I got less than a few hundred yards when a tremendous feeling came over me that I could not leave that old man alone on Christmas Eve to die. I sent the other two trappers on to the valley and I returned to the old boy where I held his head in my lap. Once in a while when he would regain consciousness. I would tell him about you and about my children and how much I loved them and how disappointed you'd be that I never made it to the valley to get the peppermint, the chocolate or the little piece of yard goods that you'd so desperately wanted for Christmas. Early on Christmas Eve night the old boy died in my arms, but it was too late for me to come home so I waited until today."

She said right at this particular moment she couldn't understand what was happening to her as she ran to the barn to show Carl that there was an old boy in the barn. So Carl followed her out, showing her that there was no man in the barn and there were no snowshoe tracks. She stopped, she pondered, and she prayed, and she got a wonderful peaceful feeling as she said to Carl, "I read in the Bible once that when you show charity to a fellow man, Heavenly Father sometimes lets you entertain an angel in your home. (Hebrews 13: 1-2) Carl, I think I had a blessing last night to entertain an angel underneath your roof."

Carl scoffed at her and told her there had been no angel in his home, until she took him by the hand and led him into their home. She showed him the tree and underneath the tree she pulled out an old worn leather saddle bag, and inside showed him a small bit of peppermint, chocolate and a little piece of yard goods.

Sixty years later, in 1960, great-grandmother was at my parents house when she died on Christmas Day. I was just a little girl and my great-grandmother left me her diary, this story, and a little piece of yard goods wrapped in white tissue paper with a note, 'This is never to be used.' It was fabric from an angel and a reminder that true charity and the true love of Christ was to be shown 365 days a year."

Herb Ratliff, December 21. 2012

Delta is Ready When You are

In my work I used to travel a lot by air. This time of year the traveling was problematic. There were inevitably those who were completely out of control with the idea of getting their stuff and their offspring from point a to point b without losing anything or anyone. There were always many business travelers who were trying to finish their work and get home to help with the last minute details. The senior members of the airline staff were usually on leave and so many of the employees who rested on lower rungs of the ladder were called to duty. And, as you would expect, there were travelers with the joy and spirit of Christmas and those who could find a way to have a bad day at Disneyland. Part of the way I kept my heavy travel schedule manageable was by finding a way to enjoy what I was doing when I did it.

I remember a late flight one year close to Christmas when I had been the happy recipient of plate full of beautifully decorated Christmas cookies at the last minute. I had no way of putting them in any of my luggage so they were in my hands when I boarded. The lines were long and slow so there was a lot of standing and waiting while boarding. At one point I found myself standing in front of the flight attendant that stands in front of the cockpit and greets the oncoming passengers. I offered her a cookie and she accepted it so quickly I could see she was very hungry, so I offered the whole plate to her and said she could share them with the other staff. She beamed and accepted without hesitation.

When the plane was fully boarded, we taxied off to our runway, took off and reached altitude. The pilot announced the seat belt sign had been turned off and we could walk about the cabin. After he had finished the flight attendant I had given the cookies to came to me and asked me to follow her. She took me to first class, went and got my carry on and brought it to me and said. "Merry Christmas, Sir. You have no idea how nice it is to have a passenger who is giving instead of demanding. Have a nice flight and if there is anything I can do to make your flight more comfortable please just ask."

There is a lot of power in cookies

Herb Ratliff, December 22, 2011, All Rights Reserved

Feeling Good

Thought For The Day

Zoe and Charley

I'm not sure you ever really understand how much giving is about satisfying your own need for acceptance and appreciation until you have a dog. Where I have written dog you may substitute, cat or horse. Children also may be used there, but only if you have figured out how to have a predictable relationship with them. I'm about to lose control of this and I've only just started.

Charley is my part this and part that "rescue" dog. He enjoys being brushed. For him, that is like a day at the spa, I suppose. I have never been to a spa. Anyway, he sheds, big time. I am constantly aware of his unwanted contribution to my untidy house. It just goes with the territory. It occurred to me once while I was bathing him  and using a brush to make sure the shampoo got down to the skin, that if I had done that before the bath I might avoid dealing with all of that wet dog hair. And so, I began brushing him regularly. At first he was not interested. Gradually he became more and more appreciative of the activity and now when I offer to "brush" him, he is at the ready the moment I offer.

For my part, I began the process because it helped reduce the amount of ambient fur in the house. OK, not much but it gave me illusion of being helpful. Then, I noticed how much he had gotten into the process. His whole demeanor would change when I offered to brush him. He would run for the door and wait for the fun to begin. 

As I brushed him I could almost hear him making grateful groans and saying "a little to the left" as we proceeded. After I decided that enough of this had happened he would start running in circles and jumping about. That is his method of saying thank you or I'm very happy. But what really surprised me was how good I felt. And all I had done was brush him. 

I've learned a lot from Charley. He has been responsible for teaching me a number of things. And, a reminder that being attentive and thoughtful to those around you is a very good thing, even if you get some pleasure from it too.

©Herb Ratliff, June 18, 2012, All Rights Reserved

Thanks Dad

Thought For The Day

I was more inclined to complain about the limitations of my father than to praise him. He knew that he was not the object of adulation, but went right on working anyway.

I grew up with five sisters, a stay at home mom and an absentee father. Not really absent, but he was gone most of the time. Gone because he worked an eight hour shift, unless he could get overtime, at Saginaw Steering Gear, a division of GM. He also was the proprietor of a small shoe repair shop, Economy Shoe Rebuilders where he spent another eight hours or more. He was not given to sports or other activities with friends, save an occasional get together with some musical pals with whom he could exercise his musical talent. And, his talent was considerable. Whatever else occupied his time, spending it with his family was not where he shined.

He and my mother had a tenuous relationship at best. This is not the place for that discussion, but suffice it to say, they needed each other, and that seemed to be the driving force in their relationship. What that need was is between them and that's where it belongs.

Dad began each week day by going into the Shoe Shop. He stayed there until about 3:00PM, then came home to a hamburger and canned peaches. There was no variety here, that was the daily fare. After eating he would either drive or have mom drive him to the Steering Gear where he worked until midnight. Quite often mom would go over and have "lunch" with him at work, then go and pick him up after work was completed.

On Saturdays he worked full time in the Shoe Shop unless overtime work was available which he would very often take. Sunday was a church day and dad would participate most of the time but not always. Church was not his preferred venue.

Sunday dinner was the weekly reward for going to church. We normally had quite a nice dinner and we all ate together. Sometimes we would go on picnics. When that happened it usually involved cousins and lots of good food that was punctuated with musical renderings by talented aunts, uncles and cousins along with my parents and sisters.

Dad was never offered the Pulitzer Prize or a position on the president's cabinet. He never ran for office. He wasn't a great hunter or fisherman. He didn't graduate from high school or college. What he did along with mother was provide a home, food and an education for six children. He taught us that not all that you do is reflected in what you personally have, but has a way of showing up like a vein of gold through hard rock and scrabble in the people you touch.

I do not believe I ever said so much as thank you to him for all the years he gave to make my life better than his. I even had the audacity to think he should have done more.

I was sitting in the funeral home alone one afternoon before his interment and a friend from high school came by to visit. It was a surprise to see him. He told me some stories about dad and visits he had with him. It was good to hear a friend talk about the man I barely knew in a warm and friendly way.

Happy Fathers Day, Dad. I wish I had gotten to know you better. And, thank you dad, thank you ever so much for all you did for me.

©Herb Ratliff, June 15, 2012, All Rights Reserved

Justine's

Thought For The Day

Justine Smith 

owner of Justine's, Memphis, TN

Travel sets the stage for a lot of unusual adventures and encounters. This is one of the more unusual ones.

I had been working with some people in Charlotte, North Carolina when I got a call from a group in Memphis who needed to see me as soon as possible. As soon as I wrapped up for the day in Charlotte I caught a flight to Memphis so that I could prepare for the morning meeting there. Going to Memphis from Charlotte meant going through Atlanta, changing planes and then going to Memphis. It took a lot out of me on days like that but it was part of the job.

As I sat in Hartsfield Airport Atlanta I began to realize that I had not eaten for hours unless you count peanuts and little cookies on the plane. It was then that I remembered a restaurant I had heard about which had been highly recommended by a friend who lived in Tennessee. The prospect of having a good meal in a new restaurant with a good pedigree seemed a nice diversion from a frenetic day. I went back to planning for the next days meeting while I waited for the flight to depart.

It was late when I arrived in Memphis. I got a rental car, found a hotel dropped off my luggage, washed my face and got directions to the restaurant. It was a short trip from the hotel to a place I'd never forget.

Justine's was a french restaurant housed in a plantation house built in 1843. It was light pink stucco with white marble steps. It had wrought iron gates and round iron vents across it's front. It dripped with old south charm and enjoyed a fine reputation for fabulous New Orleans Style French food. My stomach was growling loudly.

There were several old magnolia trees, myriad rhododendrons and in the back was a charming, over-sized gazebo where one could dine al fresco with a well planned reservation. The waiters wore white gloves and waistcoats and dripped with good manners and lots of southern charm. I could not have been happier and I hadn't even had my first cracker.

I was alone, a condition of traveling that was common and many times preferred after a day with business contacts. It was a chance to breath deeply and exhale slowly and deliberately until a modicum of relaxation entered my body. The main dining room was full as well as the gazebo and in my haste I had not called for a reservation. There was another room where I was taken just off the main part of the entry where there seemed to be ample seating with a few empty tables and one setting for two against the wall on the left side of the room where I was seated. Finally, I thought, I can eat.

The waiter gave me a menu and offered the specials of the day, took a drink order and wandered off to get the drink. I looked around at my surroundings and noted a life sized portrait of a woman in a creme chiffon floor length dress walking as if directly toward me out of the portrait. I paused to look at it briefly and thought how elegant it was and how very southern. I looked back down at my menu and began the difficult job of deciding what from this array of mouth watering offerings would be placed in front of me this evening.

Crab Justine seemed the obvious choice. If it bore the name of the owner, it must be the best. Having made the choice I lifted my head to consider my selection and as if I were in some surreal magical world the woman in the portrait was walking toward me. At first it startled me, then I was mesmerized as she fairly glided toward me and came to a stop at my table.

"Welcome to Justine's." she said.

To be continued....

©Herb Ratliff, June 11, 2012, All Rights Reserved

I'm going to......

Thought For The Day

One of the more difficult concepts to integrate into daily life is how important it is to manage your thoughts.

What you believe is not nearly as powerful as what you think. I know, you don't agree with that on the surface but let's take a look at the bottom line. Let's look at what you do and what precedes what you do. Yep, what you think.

Let's take a walk together. As we walk down the street or path or sidewalk lot's of things start rolling past the monitor between our ears. Maybe what happened last night, that could be a good thing or a bad thing and that will influence how you feel and if it's good you may start skipping. OK, you'd have to feel exceptionally good to skip but you get the idea. If you did something bad or hurtful then your steps might be heavy or slow and you might plod along the way.

Whatever mood prevails gets to pick the things you think about. So, if you're happy and skipping you might fancy yourself a ballet dancer, or a decathlete in competition for the Olympic gold metal. You will be focused, alert, positive and you will believe that your actions will be beautiful, winning and inspirational. And, guess what? They will be, in a relative sense.

If you watch Tiger Woods play golf and frankly, this is why so many people do, you can almost see his belief in his skill and his intent. So when he makes the sixty foot put to win the Masters, you find yourself captured in the moment because you believed it too.

This is a dangerous skill. It works no matter what you think.

I know you can't help what you think every moment of every day, we are human. But here is what you can do. You can believe that you own your thoughts and that they answer to you. So if they get out of line, you have a short meeting with them and explain that you prefer looking at the bright side and pulling for the good in life. It doesn't always work, but it does a lot of the time and as I practice I have noted that I don't have to stay in a bad place. I can think my way out of it the same way I thought myself into it.

Finally, look at it this way. You are going to think yourself into the next thing you do. Why not make it a force for good. It is for you

©Herb Ratliff, June 4, 2012, All Rights Reserved

The First Opener on the North Branch

Thought For The Day

Thirty one years later: August 2008

 back row l to r Paul Stenglein, Dave Stenglein, Jim Trembley, Jim Allerdyce, Me

Front: Jeff Stenglein, Bill Stenglein

During the winter of 1977 Jim Trembley and I had bought a piece of property on the North Branch of the Au Sable. A large section, about sixty acres had been split up into parcels, we had gone to Grayling, MI and got five of them, acres, with a little over two hundred feet of frontage on the river. We couldn't see it very well, it was wooded and pretty steep but it was ours and we were anxiously awaiting a chance to see it in the Spring. So on the Friday before the opener, it was the first official Arbor Day,  we headed north to our new spot to investigate.

The drive north is about two hours. We were pretty worked up about seeing it. We talked of building a place that overlooked the river, teaching our kids how to fly fish, lunkers just waiting for our mighty fishing skills and all the years we would get to fish together. When we finally arrived we were out of the car like a couple of kids going into Disneyland. The land looked absolutely pristine. I felt like the lord of the manner, OK, co lord. It was beautiful. The land sat near the foundations of the halfway house where the road crossed the river. It was a rest stop between Grayling and Mio. The fireplace stood high even though the hotel was long gone.

We wandered down by the river. It was difficult to walk because the ground was knotted up with grass and bog, a minor inconvenience. The stretch of water was straight, flat and deep, a perfect place to watch the surface dimple when the trout were feeding. We were mesmerized. It was getting late and dark and we had to find a place to spend the night. So we headed back toward the car. We were going in a different direction than our trip in and so we ended up passing near a cabin. A man was standing in the doorway. We waved and Jim said, "Let's go introduce ourselves." That shocked me because Jim was not the most social person I knew, especially when we were fishing. But, I said sure and we walked over to the house and met Bill Stenglein, the owner of the cabin.

He invited us into the cabin to have a beer. We said yes. We ended up having a pizza, meeting his sons and some family friends, spending the night and becoming life long friends. Telling you about Bill Stenglein and his family will have to happen another day. They deserve a lot of space. Enjoy the weekend friends, I will miss being there with you.

 And to you Bill, what can I say? I've never met a better fly fisherman or a better man. Thank you, my friend.

Herb Ratliff, April 27, 2012, All Rights Reserved

Let Me Explain.....

Thought For The Day

When I was very young it was normal to ask questions. That's what children do, sometimes to the absolute distraction of the people being asked questions. But, it was expected and joked about and most of the time the questions were answered until the adult involved reached the end of their knowledge base and had to bow out of the discussion gracefully or not. My experience was quite normal in that respect.

As I continued to grow up and entered into relationships with others a good deal of my experiences still created questions, but the willingness to answer questions seemed to diminish. Sometimes the reason for the change in willingness was connected to religion. Let's face it, "Because God said so." is a real conversation stopper when you are a child. Add to it, "Do you want to go to hell?" and here ends the curiosity for most. However, there is always school and there in the halls of learning questions and dialogue are welcomed, right?

I will admit that I may have had more questions than the average kid, if not more questions, more persistence than most in pursuing clarification. This often led to a most frustrating condition for me and most likely for the teachers. They ran out of interest in my questions before I got my answers. Now, leaving a student with more questions is not a bad thing. Seeking information is the milieu of the student. But, asking the student to perform tasks when information has nothing to adhere to is likely to leave both student and teacher in confused state, one about the purpose of this information, the other about the teachability of this student. In this arena, both fail to accomplish their objective.

My curiosity was never sufficiently stunted to leave me without questions. It created some problems for me in the classroom but who doesn't have a problem or two to deal with anyway? What it did to me was sow a seed of passion for explaining things to people, never to leave a person with an incomplete set of reasons for anything I could explain and it drove my kids loony. As loving and caring as I was in my quest to never leave a question unanswered, my children lived in a world that existed on the hope that they would never have to ask me why.

And so the loves you have and promises you make to create a better life for your children can, on occasion, be the bane of their existence. But, that's why they make chocolate and vanilla, right? You can love, you can love deeply, passionately and selflessly the sweet children who enter your world as your babies but how well you love them will be decided by them. Just because your intentions are honorable does not mean they are successful. And in the final analysis isn't the real job of a parent to teach his offspring to be independent anyway?

Herb Ratliff, April 24, 2012, All Rights Reserved

Nymphs, Midges and Streamers

Thought For The Day

You can: 

let go, 

drop,  or toss, 

throw out, cut off, or  abandon,

back out, bail out or bow out,

flake out, fly the coop, or give up the ship

quit, run out on or storm out,

take a powder, take a walk or wash your hands of,

leave behind, relinquish or withdraw

 but the truth is it's probably

a lot better to

just 

release gently.

©Herb Ratliff, February 10, 2011, All Rights Reserved

Where the &*#@$%% are you going?

Thought For The Day

It seems a small thing but it is one of the more useful small things upon which most of us have agreed for  many years that has in the last few years seemed to have gone away. It is the convention of bearing to the right when walking in buildings, on sidewalks, paths, jogging, walking the dog and other like activities. It no longer seems to be an applied convention and it is, at times, really annoying and sometimes downright painful. The painful part is when the idea of sharing the designated space is not expressed in an amenable way, but rather approached as Wide World of Wrestling participant might approach an opponent. An expression only useful if you are angry and larger than the opposing perambulator.

I have never been given to convention for convention's sake but I must say that certain agreements of the human race are useful. This is one is of particular value because of its tendency to keep the flow of people speedy and without injury. To see it all but ignored is a bit frightening. I have been battered and banged by belligerent bipeds in churches, businesses, parks and hospitals without so much as a "pardon me". 

Are we really in that big a hurry? Is getting to a place that important? Is the intransigence of holding your space in the wrong lane important enough to injure old folks and children? But the real question is what do you give up by contributing to a predictable flow of people. Is it an affront to your individuality, an invasion of your right of expression or an admission of inferiority?  What gives?

If you can bear to the right in your automobile in the interest of avoiding expensive repairs to your body and your car's body why not do it when you are walking too? Please.

©Herb Ratliff, February 1, 2012, All Rights Reserved

Gratitude

This picture is from 1993. Left to right back:Bud, me
Front: L to R:Julie, Lindsay, Dora holding Nick, Cory holding Lindsay.
There are now ten more grandchildren:Lindsey,Kirkland, Joshua, Skylar, Zachary, Logan, Keaton, Xander, Zoe, Brayden.

Have you ever thought carefully about the things you are most grateful for? 

I'm very visual and so my eyes are at the top of the list. Ears that function reasonably well, taste, touch, smell and a little esp now and again. I have enough athletic ability to engage in most sports and compete at a better than average level if I choose. I am teachable. That is what I may be most thankful for on another level. Second chances are high on the list too. If it weren't for second chances no one would ever see this blog. Good health, the ability to heal: physically, mentally and spiritually.

I've had numerous opportunities to apply my skills in a work environment that provided rich rewards. Sometimes I did it with a high level of competence and creativity and provided exceptional service to my employer and clients. Sometimes I did not and that's where some of those second chances I spoke of come into play.

I have met and been befriended by some of the finest people in the world. Many of them have taught me about life. All of them have given something special to me: their time, their experience, their forgiveness in some cases, their disdain in others. Most everything I have received has been as a direct result of my actions and attitude. I must add here that while complaining about results that were less than complimentary to me I was complaining to a friend about things not being "fair or just" and he looked me in the eye and said, "Herb, of all the people I know, you are the last who should be asking for justice. You should be praying for mercy." He was right and I hope I never forget it. I also hope I never forget there are a lot of people out there just like me.

Some parts of my life have been a train wreck. There just isn't any other way to express it. I have fallen hard and often on this journey but, I have never laid there and quit. I have hurt other people, sometimes on purpose, sometimes without intent and sometimes from just being too fixed on my own interests to care about anything else.

Most of my life has been a miracle. More good has come into my life from the generosity of others than I can begin to list. But I cannot continue without acknowledging the best part of my life, my children. They are smart, thoughtful, generous, forgiving. They are wonderful parents. They are dependable friends and they are good neighbors. I hope you get a chance to meet them someday.

Give some thought to making a list of your own. I think you will find that life is good, hope enriches it and experience can be the catalyst for change or plunging you deeper into the denial that life isn't fair. Thanks for stopping by, I'm grateful for you too.

Herb Ratliff, January 24, 2011, All Rights Reserved

The Great Ones

George B. Dorr overlooking the land he loved

I've always had a naive side to me in spite of the great desire I have had to be worldly and sophisticated. So it always comes as a surprise when I discover that something I thought I knew is all wrong or a bit like a Disney Movie. The desire to be great lies in all of us. The desire to accomplish great things lies only in a few. The passion, persistence and refusal to accept defeat is in but a handful.

Part of the reason for the sophomoric view of greatness in my case is the requirement that whatever I propose to be great about has to meet certain criterion. Some but not all of the criteria are honesty, the common good, adherence to a Christian ethic. But here is where the difficulty begins. Who that we as a culture list as the great leaders of mankind can claim even those three aforementioned qualities as a basis for their greatness? For that matter, what institution can make such a claim?

I have been lied to by so many for so long that I find it miraculous that I have any faith in truth. I have been sold the idea of the common good by self serving snake oil salesmen in the suits of public servants and the Christian ethic, beautiful as it is in theory is rarely if ever practiced by any of the leaders and but a few of the most sincerely converted. It turns out that in most cases honesty and truth are nothing more than a tool by which the dishonest milk the naive of their hard earned money.

But George B. Dorr is one of the few who truly had a dream and backed it with his own money and the wealth of his well to do friends. That is a story worth knowing.

It begins with his love of Mount Desert Island, the death of Charles Eliot at the age of 38 and Charles' father, Charles W. Eliot reading an article his son had written proposing the formation of a trust to protect the island from being controlled by a few wealthy landholders and made available to the public. The result was Acadia National Park. It started with one man's deep love for a part of the earth and a desire to share it with his fellow man.

So, naive or not. don't give up on your dreams.

Herb Ratliff, January 23, 2011, All Rights Reserved

What is Love?

Is it love when I say, I love you?

Is it love when I say, I care?

Is it love when I look

 at a scruffy teddy bear?

Is love the swirling angst

 of being all alone?

Is love the word, goodbye, 

when it cuts you to the bone?

Is love the tear that jewels your cheek

 in morning's early hue

When the night you spent alone

 left your pillow wet with dew?

Is love a sometime thing

That comes and goes each day?

Or, is love an endless current

Urging flow without dismay?

Is love a two way thing

That seeks a balanced set?

Or, can love go on and on

Never needing to be met?

Is balance, inequality or 

harmony a ghost?

Is love the thing you get

When you get what you want most?

Is love one thing that

Does not change or changes all the time?

Is it mine or yours or theirs or ours

If the seasons set in rhyme?

When does love become a dust ball?

When do stars begin to glow?

When does heavy, humid air

Catch a cold and turn to snow?

I don't know what heaven's angels

Have in store for you and me.

I don't know why all God's creature's

Build a nest or climb a tree.

All I know is that He's watching,

Sometimes laughing, sometimes not

And that what we do will show us

What will happen, what will not.

©Herb Ratliff, January 5, 2011, All Rights Reserved

As Good As It Gets

As Good As It Gets

Carl Jung, Swiss Psychologist, was instrumental in developing the analytic approach to the treatment of mental health. He also introduced the concept of introversion, extroversion, complexes and inspired the Myers-Briggs Type indicator.  There are many current day practices which have their roots in ideas put forth by Jung, but what drew my attention particularly to him during this season was his work in dream analysis and the idea that in interpreting a dream one must consider that all persons in the dream are the dreamer. Isn't that a show stopper?

The dream interpretation idea reminded me that many philosophies and religions integrate the idea that we are all from the same roots, that we are all a part of a greater whole, but that we make up the whole, small though we may be as an individual. That reminded me of a line from the bible which goes something like this: “In so much as you have done it unto one of these, the least of my brethren, ye have done it unto me.” The foregoing being a reference to feeding, clothing and caring for those less fortunate and in so doing the action is the same as if it had been done directly to Jesus Christ.

OK, I’m not a preacher, just a garden variety Herb, so to speak, but what I like about the idea is that our actions do not happen in a vacuum. Our work, effort, struggles, successes, dreams and hopes  connect us to each other because, in a way, we are each other and when we treat other well, it is well with us. When we treat others poorly, it is a deduction from our own account. So my wish is for your purse to be replete with gold, your health to be superior and your actions generous and heartfelt this season and always, because if you have it, we all have it. And, I think you deserve the very best.

Herb Ratliff, December 19, 2011, All Rights Reserved

Gifts

I remember working my way into a corner one Christmas. I had a specific item that I wanted above all else and made it clear that nothing else would do. There was a strange look on my parents faces when I confronted them with this ultimatum and ended it with the closing argument of: "If I cannot have that, I want nothing at all." There was some short, gentle persuasion from them asking me to reconsider my position but,  I would not budge. Finally, they conceded the argument and there it was, a line drawn in the sand not to be challenged. I doubt I will ever forget Christmas morning that year. After all the gifts had been distributed, opened and clean up was under way, I still was without a gift. I had younger sisters and so there was no forum for argument. There was only the clear message that my ultimatum had been honored. I had nothing.


If we are diligent in our measure of things it will become evident that we are among the most blessed people on the planet and live in a kind of favorable bubble of generosity. Many will find areas to complain about, others will find injustice, still more will find inequity and so there will be sour attitudes in abundance. But, do not be deluded into believing that you are an unfortunate beggar of alms in the town square. What we have as members of a free society is priceless.

As you consider your lot this Christmas, exercise caution in your demands, both spoken and whispered. You may get what you say you must have. I wish you bounty, blessings, and enough to share with others less fortunate. It costs nothing to look with kindness on another, a squeeze of the hand, a hug perhaps would lift someone's spirits or your undivided attention for a few minutes. Be generous in your giving and your receiving.

Herb Ratliff, December 16, 2011 - All Rights Reserved

Christmas from the Loge

Christmas from the Loge

Sit beside me for a moment,

Let me hold your hand,

take a breath,

close your eyes,

Smell the pine,

It's Christmastime.

The fire's blaze is softening now

the embers will take over

so while the warmth

caresses us

Let's caress each other.

The train set is another's job

that's not for us to do

we'll watch them play

and scurry fast

That's what is left to do.

I loved each toy I put together

I savored every moment

Well maybe not so much

right then, you know

But now ....

And don't you think I didn't know

how carefully you planned

each moment, every hour

And how your touch

your smile, your voice

Gave Christmas so much power.

Merry Christmas.

Herb Ratliff, December 14, 2011, All Rights Reserved.