While I preach about not living in the past, I also firmly believe we should not forget it. If we did not remember the past we would continue to commit the same mistakes over and over. However, the past also holds little gems of happiness for us. Lessons we learned that were not painful, but joyous and magical in a way that their recall puts us in a better place when we are feeling down. By recalling these occasions we can renew our faith in this world and in this life. We know that if it happened once it can certainly happen again and maybe next time being prepared for it we can better take advantage of the circumstance. Today I am going to recall one of my fondest memories from almost 40 years ago. One that almost seems like it never happened. One that has been stuck in my mind lately so much so that if do not write it down it may disappear forever and be lost to me.

   I grew up in and still live in a town about 65 miles east of New Orleans. If you have never been there I highly recommend a trip to see it and to walk around its historic districts. Take a stroll down by the river and through Jackson Square. Learn some of its history and get know what the city is about. As a young man when I became old enough to drive my friends and I would make trips to New Orleans on a regular basis to party and feel like an adult. To risk safety and sanity along the streets of the French Quarter. To behave in a manner that decorum prevented us from doing back home. New Orleans seemed to us to be a place without boundaries, magical and mystical where almost anything dreamed of could be real.

   I have always been a hopeless romantic. I have always dreamed of that one true love I read about in books and dreamed would one day be mine. I wanted my heart to be filled with the burning desire and dedication to someone that felt the same about me as I did them. This idea left me open to many disappointments and failed relationships but I never gave up.

   It is with this dream, this burning need to feel that way, that I found myself in New Orleans late in October of 1977. With some friends in tow I made yet another pilgrimage to the Big Easy for the weekend. After checking into a hotel we made our way down to what we considered the jumping off point for a night of debauchery and foolish behavior in the famed French Quarter. We always started in Jackson Square at The Cafe Dumonde. Not because we craved beignets and cafe au lait, but because it was the perfect meeting place and our trek from there would lead us up through the Quarter back to our hotel...hopefully.

   I Love the water and I love to sit and stare at it as it changes and moves along. I found myself leaning against a railing along the Mississippi River staring out across as boats made their way back and forth along the muddy highway. That evening I was not alone and looked across to my right and saw a young lady standing and looking out at the same scene as I. She looked at me and I stared back unabashed and hoping to get her attention. Without warning she looked over at me cocked her head to the side and walked over to where I was standing. I stammered my way through the introduction, struck dumb by her beauty and straightforward approach. Before I knew it we were walking up St. Peter street. We stopped inside some small oyster bar and sat down to cold beer and oysters. We talked as we ate and I know this because I remember her smile and her lilting laugh at something I said. Today I cannot recall the sound of her voice or what we talked about, but I know we did.

   From there, as the Sun set, we made our way down St. Peter to the Preservation Hall for some jazz music. I think we may have danced to something, I am not sure. So much time has passed and I may be filling in gaps with things I only dreamed of and not what really happened. From there we left and made the obligatory stop at Pat O'Briens for hurricanes and piano music. We sat out on the patio with the flaming fountain and talked and laughed and I think I may have spent most of time staring into those deep blue almost violet eyes. We left Pat O'Briens after a while and wound our way through some side streets of the French Quarter finally arriving at some hole-in-the-wall dive bar with a live band.

   Most of what happened after that is a blur. I know we danced and drank until the wee hours of the morning, but when we left it was still dark. I had no idea where we were and asked if she wanted to grab a cab and head back to my hotel. She smiled and I was sure the answer would be no, and it was. She suggested that we retire to her house which just happened to be around the corner. Off we went. It was the typical looking house from the street and we went through an iron gate that opened up into a courtyard with and upper story. We went up a wrought iron staircase and into a room that must have faced the river because I could smell the water and hear the steady thrum of big diesel engines pushing freight up and down the waterway. That night we came together as one and explored each other in ways that that still take away my breath. I had no idea how long it lasted. I remember looking at her once as she sat on the side of the bed, her raven hair cascading down her back, her lean legs crossed as she ran her hands through her hair and stared out the window. After that I remember nothing until I woke up to sun streaming through the windows and the sounds of the street below.

   I woke up slowly, stretching, and rolled over to find an empty space beside me. I got up, dressed and went down the stairs to the courtyard and into a kitchen. I smelled coffee and went over to the table where I found a note that said, "had to run some errands, wait for me" and it was signed simply, "me". I looked around and noticed I smelled of sweat, smoke and stale beer. I decide to go out on the sidewalk and see where I was and what was happening. As the gate closed behind me I heard a click and turned around to re-open it and discovered it was locked. Damn! I thought a minute and decided to get back to the hotel and shower and change and come right back. I wandered down the street to a corner and hailed a cab and made it back to the hotel where I showered and changed and headed out to go back to that house in the quarter.

   There was a flaw in my plan and due to the scattered thinking of youth I did not remember where I had spent the night. I tried in vain to explain where I had been to the driver and eventually had him drop me off back down at the river in Jackson Square, hoping to retrace my steps from the night before. I spent the entire day wandering the streets of the Quarter and the surrounding neighborhoods to no avail. In the clean light of day nothing looked familiar. I went to the hotel, paid the bill and checked out. I decided to go back to the Quarter for the night and see if anything caught my eye.

   While I knew what she looked, felt like, and the intoxicating scent of honeysuckle, orange blossom and lavender that seemed to come out of her pores naturally, but I had no memory of her name or the address or street name where she lived. I wandered around that night aimlessly searching for any clue, but I had no luck. She was gone and what had happened was just a hazy memory to be cherished and held. I made my way back to my car and returned home. I slept for two days and it took another 4 or 5 days before I was back to a sense of normalcy. Like a junkie going through withdrawal I suffered physically and emotionally.

  And like that junkie I have spent the rest of my life chasing that first high I felt of true love, wanting to relieve the ache of needing to be with someone and knowing that that person was somehow the "one" even though you barely knew them, but at the same time you felt that you knew everything about them. She was me, and I her. We connected, and to me it seemed we had been put on this Earth to be with each other and only each other. And like that junkie chasing that high I have never found it again. I ruined many relationships trying relive that feeling and today I stand on the rotten heap of decay and emotional carnage. However, I keep that memory and I keep her in me. I have faith that while I may never meet her again I will  find that feeling with someone once more. It may be someone I have yet to meet and it may be someone I already know. Someone close to me that I have not yet seen in that same light, not been with during that perfect meeting of time and place. I will not give up, but I am more careful as I still search today and everyday with faith and confidence starting over, over 50.

 

   Since I have begun this period of introspection I have looked at and read many things pertaining to self help, self realization and personal growth. Most I discarded, or dismissed because they did not seem to have any relevance to me. I hope I did not make any mistakes. Of those I read, or paid attention to some, only a couple of them stood out. There were only a few that I took the time to read or understand. One of them of course was the Bible. It has too many passages and instructions that provide solace and help for me to have ignored and the other is something called The Secret.

   I had heard of The Secret on many occasions. I had read passages from it and I believe I recall a show that Oprah did dedicated to this topic. As many times as it had crossed my path I never really took the time to pay close attention to it. Like most times of trial and tribulation in my life I relied on myself to make it through the troubles I was facing. This particular time though I was in a place where I decided it was worth it to at least find out what it was about.

   There are many books, and TV programs dedicated to The Secret. I found the documentary and took the time watch it and really take it in. I am glad I did. Has it somehow transformed my life and made everything that much better? In a way it has. I look at things in a different way. I apply the things I learned from watching The Secret everyday in my life and I must admit I am happier, calmer and far more optimistic about the future. I no longer worry, fret, or wallow in the muck and mire of what has happened nor do I stand frozen, feet stuck in the brambles about fear of the future.

   The Secret takes the basic principles of self awareness and our place in this universe and with some help from almost every religion tells you how to use this knowledge to improve your outlook on life. It does not guarantee riches and success, or fame and fortune, it does however, let you in on a way of thinking that allows you to achieve what you want, accept what you have and not to think about what could have been, or should have been and it helps you get rid of the idea of "what if".

  The Secret uses basic ideas about the Law Of Attraction to guide to us to place in our minds where we can be comfortable with ourselves, and what we really desire. It provides insight into a way of thinking that frees one's mind from the shackles of fear and doubt. The Secret does not champion any religious ideals, or any one religion as the only way. It does however, contain tenets from all religions, including my own Christianity, in such a way that it becomes self evident to one that we are really meant to be happy, we are meant to have the things we want from life and it is okay to be successful, to be famous, or to be rich if that is what we desire. If you are wondering what The Secret is, find the DVD and watch it. Give it some thought and try to apply the principles that it espouses to your everyday life. I am doing that and I am realizing the simplicity and the nature of its tenets as I start over, over 50.

   To be a human being means we are thoughtful by nature. Since we left the trees and became meat eaters our brains have grown and our preoccupation with finding food has taken a back seat to loftier pursuits. Today as a species we do not have to spend all day focusing on shelter, food and basic survival. This is a blessing as well as a curse. We are certainly safer now, healthier now, and technology has made our lives much simpler, but at the same time that we have been released from the shackles of survival we have become chained to our thoughts.

   The two most basic emotions that drive us are fear and love. They both cause us to act in irrational ways and to do things that in hindsight make us question our own sanity. Fear keeps us from accomplishing so much because in fear we can talk ourselves out of attempting things that would improve our lives. With fear we tend to imagine so many different scenarios that could occur we are frozen in place and never move forward. How many times have we committed some error at work, or home, only to have our minds race with the possibilities and consequences that are so far fetched our entire day is consumed with the thoughts of the incident. KISS is an acronym that stands for "keep it simple, stupid." The point here is to keep things simple, do not over think something. When starting a project I have watched many people start listing the problems that may arise during the completion of the project rather than the steps needed to successfully complete that project.

   Too many times when faced with a problem or difficult situation our minds race off to imagine all sorts of negative consequences that may arise as we try to extricate ourselves from it, or solve it. We have the capability to project all of our fears and bad thoughts on to any situation to make it far worse than it really is. It is funny how more often than not we are able to see all of the bad things that can happen and we have great difficulty focusing on all of the good. We can take the simplest of things and turn into one of the most difficult things we may ever face. The truth is if we look back at some of what we thought were potentially the worse things that could ever happen to us, when we look back at the things we thought we could never overcome, or things we were sure would affect us and all of those around us in a bad way for years to come we find that the opposite is true.

    While in college preparing to write my first large research paper my professor asked how many of us had heard of Occam's Razor. Maybe one hand went up. Occam's Razor is a principle that puts forth the idea that when faced with competing hypothesis the one with the fewest assumptions is most likely to be correct. In other words, when all else is put aside the simplest explanation is the correct one. When facing a potential problem in life, or having to face something difficult caused by our own mistakes in judgement let us not rush toward some long and drawn out complicated set of events that could occur, but rather focus on the reality of the situation and keep it simple. Our lives are complicated enough without our help. Look at similar events and remember how they turned out. The fact that we are able to take the time to think about a problem is testimony to our ability to stand tall in the face of any adversity. We have faced so many difficulties in our lives that one more minor bump is inconsequential. Think of all of the good things that can come out of something rather than the bad that may come, and most probably, will never happen. I am looking for the good and I am keeping it simple as I start over, over 50.

   As the title of this blog suggests when I started it I am in the process of starting over. That process I have discovered is an ongoing work that really begins anew every day. It can begin at any time increment you choose, but I would imagine breaking the time down on a daily basis is the easiest to deal with. Humans break there lives down into time segments to better organize things, or to signify the ending and beginning of things. One of things I have discovered and shared is not hanging on to the past. It is a common theme in my writing and one that I will revisit fairly often.

   While we are always cautioned to let go of the past the one thing we must be mindful of is not forgetting it. We must remember the past, our mistakes, our failures, our victories and our triumphs over adversity. The past must be remembered because as humans we always make mistakes. Mistakes are how we learn new things and reinforce lessons already learned. We cannot be afraid of failure and cannot be afraid of making mistakes. However, we must be mindful of our past mistakes so that they are not repeated. So the past holds a place of purpose in our journey and we must examine it and learn from it, but not be mired in it.

   So what can we do about the past and the mistakes we made or the wrongs we perceive that others have done to us? As far as the wrongs done to us by others there is not much we can do. Being angry is a waste of time and sitting around lamenting what has been done by others and waiting for them to fix it is giving power to someone that neither earned nor deserves it. The only thing we have control over is ourselves and the only thing we can change is us. Many self-help groups and books talk endlessly about the necessity of making amends as an essential piece of the self improvement puzzle. The only problem with this is that by the time we realize we need to make amends it may be too late or even more revealing is that the person we need to make amends to either is no longer interested in it or may not even realize you think you may have done them wrong.

   I sometimes think that making a list of those we need to make amends to is the epitome of hubris. We assume that we had such an effect on someone that they require our acknowledgment of it and need that pound of flesh from us. Truth be told most people are rarely thinking of us. Most people are like us in that they are wrapped up securely in their own lives and problems that ours are just not evident to them. How many times has someone taken their own life only to have those around them exclaim, "I had no idea that they were hurting that much!" We must be mindful of our place in the lives of others.

   That being said we must always be mindful of ourselves and our own behavior. When we wrong someone we need to own it, admit it and be contrite about it, make whatever amends we can and move on. If we strive to always be kind, to realize that we can, with our words and actions, hurt another and then try to make amends we will have less to think about. I am going to endeavor to be kind in words, thought and action. I can no longer afford to be anything else. I have enough baggage I am carrying from my past. I do not need to add to my load. So today and everyday join me in making a solid effort to be kind. Be someone slow to anger and quick to forgive. Make an attempt to keep your mouth closed and your heart open and when faced with the choice of being right or being kind, choose kind, I am going to try to do all of this as I start over, over 50.

   Since we already know that change is the one true constant, I thought I would address a part of change that affects us all. When I was a child rotary phones were the standard and people still sent and received telegrams. I have watched communication technology change and grow from that old rotary phone to push button phones, cordless phones, cable TV and the rise of the computer. I have a daughter that was born into a household with a Commodore 64 computer and dot matrix printer. Since those days I take for granted the technology I use today, but there is a piece that although I resisted at first I have come to accept and use regularly.

   Social media has grown exponentially in the last two decades. The youth of the world were the first to embrace it as a way to give themselves a voice and to be heard at an age when it seems no one is listening. That explosion in social media sites like Facebook, Myspace, Twitter and Instagram, have enabled people of all ages to engage and connect with a larger world than I could as a teenager. Today a chance picture or video can launch someone into a semblance of celebrity status unknown just 20 years ago.

   As an adult over 50 years old the one thing that I have noticed is how generational the acceptance of social media has become. My parents are still alive and have seen a far more substantial change in technology than I have, yet like others of their generation they seem reluctant to embrace the idea of social media. Their complaint seems to be the idea that they would be opening their lives to scrutiny that makes them uncomfortable. They do not seem to grasp that people can only have the access they allow and then only to the information that they permit to be viewed or shared. The younger generation does not seem to have accumulated the baggage that the older generations have, so they have a limited concept of privacy.

   Facebook seems to still be the platform of choice, at least for the people that I am in contact with on a daily basis. I use it, although in the early days of its explosion on the social media scene I took on the same mantra that my elders espoused. However, I have come to appreciate the use of social media for many purposes. For me the most valuable part of social media is the ability to reconnect and stay connected to people that I had lost contact with and to people that I otherwise would never have an opportunity to interact with.

   Having worked in military intelligence I understand the value of maintaining a low profile and closely guarding your privacy. Just like in face-to-face encounters on-line communication should be carefully controlled and one should not share everything about themselves at any time on social media sites.Common sense should dictate what we use social media for and anyone you communicate with that you just met on the web should be treated the same way as someone you just met on the street. There is no need to immediately let someone into your inner circle and until you know more about them and have vetted them they should be held at arms length. All that being said I would encourage you to join a social media site. You would be surprised at the people you can reconnect with and make new connections with. It is a valuable tool when used properly and can open up a whole new world for you. I will be cruising around social media, trading stories, pictures and updates with a very cordial group of old and new friends. join us, you will be pleasantly surprised as I am, everyday as I start over, over 50.

   A few weeks ago I was in a bookstore looking for something new to read. I have been a voracious reader since elementary school. As I scanned the aisles looking for something to buy I became increasingly frustrated at my inability to make a decision. Some of the books were by authors I had never heard of, some were genres I did not feel like reading and many others I had already read. No matter how hard I tried I could not find anything that suited me.

  I thought about my problem a lot and it made me remember a time when I stumbled upon an author that has become one of my all time favorites. I was in a bookstore facing the same dilemma. No matter how hard I tried nothing compelled me to buy. Usually there are three things that prompt me to pick up a book to read, they are so simplistic that I am somewhat embarrassed. The first is the cover, just like the packaging in the grocery store the cover will prompt me to pick up a book and examine its worthiness. The second thing is the title, and the third is the author. With this in mind the following is what I stumbled upon many years ago.

  While perusing the shelves at a bookstore a title jumped out at me. It was In the Electric Mist With Confederate Dead, by James Lee Burke. That one random decision has provided me with many hours of good reading. James Lee Burke is an excellent author. His books appeal to me on many levels, genre, style of writing and sometimes a historical context that that is compelling and relevant to events in my life. Mr. Burke was born in Texas and spent his early life on the Gulf Coast of Louisiana and Texas. His settings are similar to where I grew up as are some of the characters in his books. The influence of Louisiana and the Gulf are evident in his stories and seem to shape his characters and stories in a way I find easy to empathize with.

   Burke's main characters are usually damaged heroes in need of redemption. One of his recurrent characters is a sheriff's deputy named Dave Robicheaux. Wracked by demons from his past and the Vietnam War, the deputy fights evil at the same time he is trying to come to grips with things he has done in his past that are similar to the evil men he faces. Most of the stories take place in Louisiana and some take place in Texas and Montana. Mr. Burke maintains homes both in New Iberia Louisiana and Missoula Montana. He has twice been awarded the Edgar Award for Best Crime Novel of the year. Three of his books have been made into movies, but to me they do not measure up to the books.

   The next time you are looking for a good read I encourage you to try one of Mr. Burke's novels. Well written and to me as good as any book I have read, I am sure you will find them entertaining, compelling and worthy of the critical acclaim he has received. His most recent novel Wayfaring Stranger, is one of his best. The next time you are looking for a book to read, pick an obscure title. Choose a book that on the outside offers no clue to what is between the cover. I did it and I have been rewarded handsomely with many hours of great reading. If you read his books leave me a comment on what you think. If you have already read them leave me a comment and tell me your experience. I am still looking for something new to read and I am waiting on the next great novel as I start over, over 50.

   Recent news stories have prompted me take a look at humor. Websters has a few definitions for humor, some if which are a little disturbing, but in a general sense it is defined as the ability to be funny or to be amused  by things that are funny. when listing some of the more desirable qualities in a mate people often list a sense of humor as being very important. We are always encouraged to have a sense humor. A sense of humor means to have the ability to recognize humor when we see it. Being able to make someone laugh is a gift and many women choose a man that makes her laugh before they choose one based on looks.

   Being able to laugh at the things around us that are funny has the ability to turn a bad day good. Seeing the irony in a situation sometimes makes it easier to understand and deal with. Some of the more notable phrases that deal with the effects of humor on our well being include the often used "laughter is the best medicine." Studies show that laughter actually improves our over all well being. It triggers the release of certain hormones that promote healing, and allows us an escape from some of the more negative aspects of a situation or event.

   We must however be able to distinguish between the ability to make someone laugh from the perceived notion that in being able to do so then that person is happy. Too often the ability to make others laugh is a self defense mechanism used to hide some deeper personal pain. Just because I can point out irony, and the humor around myself and others in life does not necessarily make me happy. Masking pain and distress with jokes and humor is only a temporary fix. As much as I enjoy making others laugh I love to laugh myself. I enjoy comedy over almost any other form of entertainment and for me it is an essential part of my life.

   How many times have we met someone that just cannot seem to laugh or be amused at the absurdity of things? Instead they become angry, distressed and respond with phrases like, "that's not funny, it's just stupid." While they may be right, something can be stupid and funny at the same time. We must realize however, that the things we find funny do not appear that way to others. For example I find myself cringing more than laughing at some of the ridiculous antics of people that while silly and foolish are not really funny. I rarely if ever laugh when someone commits a faux-pas in public that is embarrassing such as falling, tripping etc.

  All that being said I constantly search for things to make me laugh. I have a number of Three Stooges dvds that provide many hours of laughter. I never miss a chance to watch one of my favorite comedians perform and I find pleasure in the ridiculous puns some of my acquaintances come up with. We should use humor for a good purpose. I try to shy away from humor as a mask or shield and instead embrace it as a curative measure for my inability to remain grounded and happy. Humor gives us a break from the grind of every day life and allows us respite from strife and struggle. Take the time to find some humor today. If not in the situation find manufactured humor to allow an escape. Study the subtle sarcasm of Bugs Bunny, or the in your face antics of Tom and Jerry. Lighten up and take a break for minute. You will be better for it and for a time will be able escape to a better place. I vow to laugh today no matter what it takes and find the humor I need to feel better and stay grounded as I start over, over 50.