I was flipping channels the other day in the usual search for something of value to watch. As often happens for channel surfers. especially those who do it quickly, the partial sentences and words on each station seemed to form a dialog of its own … channel surf speak. Sometimes this phenomenon can be entertaining in itself, especially in those odd moments when a theme of sorts presents itself. For whatever reason, as the “news” channels, infomercials, “reality” shows, dramas, and odd religious programming, passed me by, one concept seemed to keep popping up.

Compassion.

My thumb clicked away, and each time it seemed the universe was again trying to tell me something, in the form of a word … a powerful idea. Yet for some reason, many of the times it started taking shape as the channels flipped by, it lacked a certain level of sincerity … an essence of not quite “getting” it. The campaigning politician used it in reference to ongoing war, and it was as if it was a totally different word on his lips. The world-renowned preacher used it to raise money for his ministries, and it was if he had reshaped the idea to his own meaning. The famous actor used it with dramatic intensity, yet it seemed so … well … scripted. It became evident to me that somebody maybe did not really understand the amazing concept that is compassion. The question … was that someone ME or those random voices on the Digital Soap Box?

Apparently a new quest was in order.

I shut off the Digital Demon, and put on my Questing Clothes and my Face of Curiosity. Where to start? How about the dictionary. I turned to another one of the Digital Demons (who uses paper dictionaries any more?) and came up with a starting place … an official definition:

A straightforward definition, yes. But as often is the case with life changing concepts … wholly inadequate to my mind. Sometimes the powerful tool that is words are simply insufficient for true understanding. This definition LACKED something. The imp in me said the definition lacked … well … compassion. Time to find out what the “experts” had to say.

I went into the opulent building of worship, and asked the Holy Man “What IS compassion?”

Without hesitation, he said “Following the word of God,” as he handed me the collection plate.

It did not ring true to me.

“What IS compassion?” I asked the eloquent Government Man as he postured for the press.

He slid money into one pocket, and directed a soldier to attack THOSE innocents because they “might” be dangerous before answering, “Making the world a better and safer place for all!” he said with an eyeless smile.

Hmmm. Irony?

I managed to get a meeting with a Lord of Commerce. “What IS compassion?” I asked.

“Weakness!” he said with authority. “An excuse for the needy to try to take my well-earned wealth!” Then he brushed me aside to direct the advertisers on how to make the company look like it “cared”.

Obviously he did not know.

“My reason for being,” said the Idealist.

“Feeling sad for those less fortunate,” said the Happy Homemaker.

“Only for those who deserve it,” said the Cynic.

The answers were endless. Some seemed to truly have a grasp, others just catching a glimmer, or missing altogether. Yet I still was not quite grasping it myself. I continued to wander, asking those willing to answer and adding their definitions to the growing picture. Yet I was still not quite there. I found myself in one of those places where the currents of the world meet. A walled off community, obviously one with stature. On the other side of the wall, slums, looking almost war-torn. Many passing, some allowed through the walls, some looking at the walls with envy, others simply passing by, in their own world, resigned or uncaring of the walls. A constant flux of motion, an interaction of many parts that on the surface seemed very different. But all shared one common trait. They all passed by, scorned, looked with pity at, ignored, feared, fled from, flung vitriol at a single figure. A being clad in rags, sitting against the wall. Dirty. Aromatic. Scarred by injury or disease.

The figure held out a hand, and reactions differed. Disgust. Civility with apology. Turning a blind eye. Occasionally an exchange of small funds. But always brief … a quickly forgotten interaction.

A family group, with kids of varying ages came along. They were laughing and playing as they rambled along. One little girl, nibbling on a cookie, ran ahead and looked at the figure with curiosity … a curiosity that was returned with a surprisingly bright smile. Older children said stinging words, laughing with derision and making faces. A mother said sharply “That is not nice!” to the culprits, yet dragged the little girl away. “Stay with us!” Politely but with an air of concern. The figure’s smile faded a little as the street prepared to return to carefully nurtured oblivion.

The childs eyes remained on the figure though, unable to look away. Suddenly, she darted from her mother, back to the figure. And with a giggle, she offered the figure a bite of her cookie. The smile brightened again. Polite denial, followed by the hand out again. Soft words, another giggle, and the child offered her own hand, to the apparent displeasure of her family and others near. With a bit of a struggle, lessened by the little girl’s hand, the figure got to its feet, and went to the bus station, boarding the bus that just arrived. Off to live life elsewhere.

As the figure boarded the bus, another familiar figure passed, exiting the bus. The new figure paused to give the ailing figure a hug, then continued off the bus, to pat the little girl on the head, telling her now flummoxed mother “There lies the hope of our future!” Then he turned to me.

I realised it was the Friendly Neighborhood Wise Man. “You have a question for me?” He said, knowingly.

“What IS compassion?” I asked, excitingly awaiting the answer I KNEW he had.

“I can’t tell you.” He must have noted the disappointment I felt with that answer. His air changed subtly, in at first an indefinable way. “I CAN show you though. Actually you just witnessed it.” He indicated the little girl.

Suddenly I got it.

The indefinable way he was speaking was itself compassion. And I understood. Compassion is like love; like spirituality; like enlightenment. Something not to be defined by words, but defined by action. And each and every one of us has to choose that definition for ourselves. Yet it is also a necessary component for the healing of humanity. No one, no one at all, with a hand out for aid should ever be left grasping air.

THAT is compassion.

If you like this and wish more of The Wise Man’s insight, check out The Wise Man Series. But more importantly, to fully appreciate the power that many strong thinkers can bring to a beautiful concept, see what magic these other voices have to share:

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The post The question of compassion #1000Speak first appeared on thrumyeyes.

My journey of late has become more metaphysical than physical. Who knew that would be the more painful adventure?

I love mirrors. Well, to be more accurate, I love reflective surfaces. To me they are like gateways to other worlds; doorways to What If. They are spark plugs for the imagination engine … ready to take us on new adventures at a moment’s notice. Reflections are a constant reminder of POSSIBILITY, while at the same time giving clearer insight to our chosen reality. Yes, I do love reflections.

But as with everything in this world, there is a yang to the in of reflection. Sometimes those other worlds (or is it THIS world?) are cast in shadow. Sometimes they are bleak views indeed. What then?

Irony has become the keystone of my existence.

I got lost in a room of mirrors yesterday … caught by reflections everywhere. At the same time, or maybe BECAUSE of this, I was hit by a barrage of life changing epiphanies. The kind of realizations that change paths … the kind that bring the words “rock bottom” into the picture. For the next couple of hours, the word “WOW!” came constantly to my lips, often staggering me. The barrage ultimately pushed my thoughts into some very dark areas. I have become a cliché … Willy Loman incarnate. I did not know what to do with myself … all my options seemed to just strengthen the cliché. Talk about bleak reflections!

Then that pesky part of me; that part of me always willing to find a bright side, decided to take part in the discussion. The Watcher in me stepped back, allowing the bigger picture to emerge. Sure, that pathetic, tragic image before you is only pathetic; only tragic … if YOU choose to perceive it that way. Choose to see it another way. Pick the reflection YOU want. Laughing the whole time, I bought myself some candy and watched cartoons until I went to sleep.

Ultimately, the real challenge any of us face is to look at our own reflection and feel nothing but love.[/vc_column_text][/vc_column][/vc_row]

The post Re-reflecting on reflections first appeared on thrumyeyes.

I am definitely guilty of that.

The past is past. Even if there were moments that we wish we could live over, it is NOT possible. I am not even talking scientifically speaking. If it WERE possible to travel back time, and relive a moment, it would still be our future … CHANGED … self reliving the moment. Either that or locking ourselves into one moment … effectively STOPPING time. So we either live forward, or stop time entirely. Take the metaphysics out and it is simply this … we cannot go back. The future holds similar problems. For no matter how much we might want things to be a certain way, or even plan for it, we will never truly know what future moments hold until we actually experience those moments. And since those moments are created by what is happening in THIS moment, the simple act of visiting the future could change how that future plays out.

If the past paragraph required a bit too much thought, let me simplify with something I say often … the only moment that we TRULY live … the only moment that we can have any true influence over … is NOW. Yet as much as I say this, even BELIEVE it, I all to often fail to LIVE that way. Looking back, my new view of my past is that those moments that I called adventures were just the periods of my life when I actually lived IN the moment, and those moments I call stagnation were the periods I forgot to; those periods where I lost myself in time.

Sadly, I seem to get lost in time more often as I experience more of life.

This is ultimately what the newest part of my adventure, the one that starts in three weeks, is about. I seek to strip away the layers of experience and “knowledge” that have sullied my naiveté. I seek to scrape off the stigma of a life bombarded with the spiritual pollution that modern society is choking the air with, and return myself to the blank slate of a new-born child. And once I find that deeply buried child, I seek to start a fresh work of art, one that I can be proud of; one that maybe will shine for others as well. It is not just my intent to challenge myself. It is not just my intent to have a unique experience that many cannot even imagine. It is my intent to shed the me that has lost its way, and replace it with a me of wonder, similar to the one that arrived on this plane once before. I am no longer compatible with humanity, and I keep blaming it on humanity. Since I seem to have no effect on a world I have lost respect for, maybe that world is not really the problem. Maybe I need to take off the dirty filter that encases me so I can see the world fresh again. THAT is ultimately what I seek.

As a result of this part of my journey, instead of spreading myself out in pieces through the several thousand blogs and other means of expression I seem to have gathered, I am going to focus on the journal of my rebirth … A Tail of a Trail. This means that activity on this (and my other blogs) will slow to a near standstill for the next 6+ months. For those who actually enjoy my wordplay, or have any interest in the newest part of MY adventure, you can see the blog below, or better yet feel free to follow it directly. For those who are not interested, I look forward to introducing the new me to you come next fall. In the mean time, I hope your adventure remains interesting as well!

The post A fresh canvas first appeared on thrumyeyes.

I thought for a bit, trying to identify what I was missing. It took me a while, but I finally realized what I was missing. I had lost my inspiration. I am not sure where it went, but it was simply gone. Think as much as I would like, I simply could not find any inspiration. I spent the whole day looking for it, yet it completely eluded me. It seemed I did actually have something that I needed to do. The next day I set off in search of my lost inspiration.

As I often do on such journeys, I let my feet wander as they would. After a bit, I came across a Man of Faith. He greeted me with a smile, as he went about doing a building project. I complimented his progress, and asked “Where do you find your inspiration?”

His answer (as I probably should have guessed) “God of course. When I lose my place, all I need to do is pray, and inspiration fills me.”

This made sense, but I am still reluctant to let a being that I am not sure actually exists make my decisions for me, so I moved on. Soon I came across my friend, the Starving Artist. He was fully absorbed in the work of art he was painting. I caught his attention, and asked, “Where do you find your inspiration?”

He shrugged. “I am never sure. It just comes to me at times. This time I received my inspiration from that brick over there.” I looked at the brick. It just looked like a brick to me. I thanked him, and moved on. I encountered many different people, from many different walks of life. I asked them all the same question, and got variations of the same answers. God, random things, or in some cases specific things. Yet I did not find inspiration in anything that others did. I was starting to wonder if maybe I had lost it for good.

I headed back home, wondering how I would manage without inspiration. Just when I was losing hope, I saw my Friendly Neighborhood Wise Man, standing, staring at a wall and laughing. Just the man I needed! So I went to him and after exchanging a friendly greeting, I said, “I seem to have lost my inspiration. Where can I find it again?”

He laughed his laugh and smiled his smile, and then pointed right where he had been staring. “Right there my boy!” I looked where he indicated, but all I saw was a wall. There was some dirt, and a few marks of wear, but still it was just a wall. Seeing my confusion, he laughed some more and pointed off to something on my right. “It is also there. And there. and there. and quite a bit there too.” As he said this, he kept pointing to indeterminate things. I thought back on the answers I had received earlier in my journey, and what he was telling me now. I started to get an inkling what he was saying. With a twinkle in his eye, he said, “Why is it you so often look for that which you already have?” and then vanished … his laugh echoing off into the distance.

With my own laugh, I suddenly got it.

Inspiration falls in the same category as love. It is always there. The trick is keeping your mind and heart open to it.

The post In search of inspiration first appeared on thrumyeyes.

It dawned on me that he could probably answer my question again. So I said, “Wise one, what does friendship actually mean?”

He smiled his worldly and enigmatic smile, and his eyes twinkled as he thought for a second. “I once saw a Palestinian man who helped an Israeli walk when he had a sprained ankle. I knew a Republican and a Democrat who always argued, yet when the Democrat needed help to pay a bill, the Republican gave him some money. I once saw a woman and a man laughing together. Then there was the day that the black  man and the white man fought a fire together. All of these people, they are my best friends, though I have never seen any of them again. That is what friendship means to me.” He then smiled his smile as his eyes continued to sparkle at me.

I scratched my head. “How can they all be your best friend, especially if you do not know them? How are they friends at all?”

He almost laughed. “I looked into their eyes, and I saw myself. And I love myself. How could they not be? You too, are my best friend.”  With that, he vanished, as he often seemed to do.

I realized that I really had many friends.

More from the Wise Man.

The post A true friend … first appeared on thrumyeyes.

It is a treasure sought by many, yet to my knowledge few have even come close to locating it.

Being a lover of adventure, and thriving on solving mysteries, I decided to seek out this elusive treasure. I started by just asking around locally, seeing what fact could be sorted out of rumor. Many had heard tales of this wondrous treasure, and there were all sorts of legends of what it is; what it can do. It is said to be the most valuable thing on earth. It is believed to have the power of creation; many said that the treasure is a talisman that would allow a person to do anything they desired. Few could even guess where it could be found though.

Some said that it actually has already been found, but those that have found it hoard it for themselves. They pointed to the Obscenely Rich Man and said: “He has it.”

So I went to the Obscenely Rich Man and asked him. He was truly bewildered. “Yes I too have heard of this amazing treasure,” he said. “I have been looking for it too. I have found many treasures, as you can see. But with all this wealth I have, I still have not found the ultimate treasure you seek! I have heard that the Very Famous Actress has it.”

I sought out the Very Famous Actress and asked her. “No I have not found the treasure. I hear that only with it can I truly obtain the ultimate fame that I seek. Yet with all those that adore me, none can tell me where it is. No. I do not have it yet. I believe the Man Of Power has it.”

I got an appointment with the Man Of Power. “I have been search for the treasure forever. Every choice I make is to obtain  this great treasure. Yet with all the power I wield; with all people I have commanded to search for it … I still have not found it. I do not know where it is!”

It seems my search was going to be a difficult one again. In need of advice, I once again sought out my Friendly Neighborhood Wise Man. As always he welcomed me with open arms, a ready smile and a laugh. “Ah yes, I know of this amazing treasure! Give me a moment and I will guide you to it.” He then went  into the yard, where I could hear sounds of exertion. Soon he called me out. He handed me a shovel and said “X marks the spot.”

There before me was a fresh mound of dirt, with a very clear X crossing it. I used the shovel and shortly heard the clink of contact with something. Soon I had dug up what was buried, and after cleaning it was amazed by what I had found.

Looking at what I had dug up, it dawned on me that I had indeed found the greatest treasure of all. What’s more it became clear to me that everyone had the ability to find this treasure all along. They just need to see the X and dig.

The Wise Man laughed at me and said “Don’t show this to anyone. It only has value if people find it themselves!”

I nodded in agreement, and quickly hid the mirror away.[/vc_column_text][/vc_column][/vc_row]

The post X Marks the spot (guess what letter this is … ) first appeared on thrumyeyes.

A question has been lingering: “Why?” Why does effort frequently get little reward, while whim and seeming luck reaps major benefits? Why does it often seem that good struggles when evil flourishes? Why is pain more notable than pleasure?

So of course I went on a journey to find the answer. I went to the college professor and asked: “Why?” Twenty large worded minutes later he still had not answered my question so I left.

I went to the clergyman and asked: “Why?” His answer was simply, “God.” This answer seemed to suit many, but for me it sounded too much like avoiding the question.

I went to the politicians and asked: “Why?” The Republican said, “The Democrats.” The Democrat said, “The Republicans.”

I went to the philosopher and asked: “Why?” He answered, “Why not?” To me that seemed just the flip side of my own question.

I continued to wander, lost in my pondering, and trying to figure out who to ask next. I was so engrossed that I bumped into someone. I focused on the body before me and realized it was my friendly neighborhood wise man. Just the person to ask!

“Why?” I asked him hopefully.

He looked at me an smiled his glorious smile. Spread his arms wide, looked around, and then looked back at me, still smiling.

“Because!” he said. And then poof! He disappeared. He vanished so quickly that I could not ask him to elaborate. It seemed I was just going to have to accept that answer.

Ah! I get it now!

Understanding has returned.

More from the Wise Man:

• The key
• Now in the Blink of an Eye
• Return of the Wise Man
• Peace

The post Accept first appeared on thrumyeyes.

My first thought was: Damn I could use a bit of peace!

My second though was: What exactly IS peace anyway?

Time for a new quest!!

I went to my neighbor, who has an answer for everything. He and his wife were shouting at each other.

Did not seem a good time to ask.

I went to the local bar. They might know. “What is peace” I asked? Just as someone was about to answer, there was a particularly vicious tackle in the game on the screen. The bar went wild.

Maybe I should look elsewhere.

I passed a place of worship. Some beautiful singing came from inside. I took a peek. Smiles on faces. Multiple voices joined in song. A good message being taught. Could this be it?

As I left, I noticed the sign in front. It said “Join our fundraiser to support our soldiers.”

Not quite there yet.

I went to the park and sat on a bench. Birds were singing everywhere. A cool breeze. No city noises. The few people I saw seemed content. Some kids were playing off in the distance. Could this be it?

The kids were playing with toy guns.

Maybe not.

I was starting to wonder if there was such a thing. Maybe humans simply don’t know how. I went home and turned on the TV. Not that I expected to find any there.

Sports that embrace violence. Crime shows. “Reality” shows that embrace conflict. Even the comedies thrived on it.

Can peace actually exist?

Suddenly a news report caught my attention. It was a war-torn country. The focus of the report was soldiers, “fighting for peace”. But in the background, I recognized a face. It was my friendly neighborhood Wise Man. He handed a flower to a child, and looked at him encouragingly. He then gave the child a little push. The child went to a soldier and gave him the flower. And smiled.

And then the wise-man looked at me directly through the TV screen and said: “This too is a choice.”

Ah. The answer.

I choose peace.

More from the Wise Man:

• The key
• Now in the Blink of an Eye
• Return of the Wise Man

The post Peace (My 100th post. Woohoo!!) first appeared on thrumyeyes.

Maybe that man over there, the one who claims to have a unique link to The Divine has it?
“Faith,” he says.
Nah. That seems too lazy to me.

How about that guy who seems to own everything?
“Material wealth,”  he says.
Nope.  Not buying it.

Maybe the destitute man over there?
“Look to the bottom of a bottle,” he says.
Now THAT’S just avoiding The Answer.

Suddenly in a flash, our friendly Wise Man appears (we met him before in Now in the Blink of an Eye).
“Maybe  you  should figure out The Question first,” he says with a smile, and then flashingly disappears again.

Once more the flash opens my eyes. Both the inner ones AND the outer ones. The Question appeared:
“How should I live?”

Now that I understand The Question, The Answer seems obvious.
“Just do your best and live.”

Seems I have had The Answer all along.

The post Return of the Wise Man first appeared on thrumyeyes.

I kept trying to regain the now that I missed only to find that it had become a then. It was a clear then, but it kept changing with my mood. Couldn’t quite be sure what that now actually was.

So I had an idea. Maybe if I get a head start, I can get ahead of the now and then the then it will become will be now. So I headed into the yet to be.

There I was in the yet to be and looking back. And the funny thing is there were too many nows to pick from. Which now was the now I wanted?

So my dilemma was how could I regain that now. I looked there. And I looked there. And over there too. Just couldn’t seem to find it.

So I went to the corner wiseman, and asked him if he knew where I could find some missing now. He looked at me and smiled.

“That is easy” he said with a laugh. “It is right here”. And then he disappeared into a puff of light.

The puff of light was a fairly bright one. Caused me to blink again. And lo and behold there was the now.

Now I get it.

The post Now in the Blink of an Eye first appeared on thrumyeyes.