The Sheer Terror of Sitting Still by Mark Morford @ SFGate, Wednesday, June 19, 2013

Pause and you get eaten…Ruthlessly forward is the only perspective, the only direction, the only proper attitude.  Self reflection and mindful presence? Calm and OM and inner stillness? Sounds adorable, but holy hell have you seen the pace of the world today? Who has the time? Who has the energy? Who has the patience? And really, does meditation even work? All the hoopla, all the supposed health benefits, all the ancient Buddha wisdom, even modern science slowly coming around to the idea that clearing your mind and working the “attention muscle” is beneficial for reducing all sort of toxic things, like stress, anger, road rage…But come on. There’s so much to do! Money to make. Empires to build. Spines to slouch and hoodies to wear and souls to crush. This is America. Work is all there is. Well, work, and the Internet…Eat or get eaten, sucker…for most Americans, stillness is… how to put this honestly? Terrifying. Deep, even momentary quiet freaks people out. The hardest thing anyone can ever do in our culture is sit still for a moment. The demons! The memories! Voices! Kids! Video games! The guilt and the doubts and the FOMO, all hammering down on you like a cold rain made of fear and capitalism and shame. And it’s only been… 27 seconds. Meditation is hard.  We are addicted! White noise and activity filler and lists. Do you know how many apps there are for making To-Do lists, setting alarms, organizing schedules, keeping track of appointments and tasks and urgent needs? I don’t know, either; I’m far too busy writing this column to count them all…

READ MORE including his conclusion.  Worth your time.  Excellent.

Image: Mark Morford Yoga. Article: SFGate – The Sheer Terror of Sitting Still.  Mark Morford bio.

6:30pm NBC Nightly News last night. Brian Williams shares a feature story on how younger siblings suffer adverse long term effects from bullying by their older siblings. COME ON. Don’t believe everything you read. Here’s some real life case studies involving long term research.

But first, a short bio on my brother. He’s two years my junior. Today, he is married. He has a beautiful wife. Two handsome well behaved, high potential teenage boys. He has a great job and is making a real contribution to the community. A good man.

Roll it back to his teen years. Pudgy, but nimble in dodging blame. Lazy, but quick to vanish when it was time for chores. Shirt untucked and laden with food droppings.  Pants hanging off his a** before it became a fashion trend.  And foreign ooze dripping from his nose, year around.

Case 1: Lazy summer afternoon. We were chased outside to play. I grabbed our baseball mitts and ball. He reluctantly agreed to play. We tossed it back and forth a few times. He then sat down in the grass in the shade and called out: “It’s too hot.”  I walked over, glared at him and told him to “get up.”  No movement.  I’m staring him down.  He’s scooching backwards on his hands towards the tree: “I’m tired. This is boring.” That was it.  I marched back down the lawn.  Stopped.  Took a deep breath.  Turned, and in a single motion unleashed a fast ball from 15 feet away nailing him in the forehead. Based on his reaction, you would have thought I hit him with a Scud Missile. Outcome for me: Capital Punishment. Outcome for him: Appropriate long term attitude adjustment. (One doesn’t forget a baseball to the noggin’.)

Case 2: He had this bathroom problem. (Common malady for middle children.) Meaning, he would lock the door and do his business, FOREVER. One day, a bottle of hot pink nail polish spills on the counter top and the floor…stripping the finish. He refused to acknowledge that he was the culprit. Outcome for older brother: Capital Punishment. Outcome for Junior: Enforcement of a moral code. A punch in the stomach and a promise for more if he ever tried that stunt again. To this day he denies it (“it must have fallen over and broke on its own.” Really?).

Case 3: He hated eggs sunny side up. I mean he HATED them. He couldn’t bear seeing, touching or tasting runny egg yolks. (Among other food groups that are today generally known to be good for you.) I would watch him gulp the eggs and see them work their way back up his esophagus (like throwing up into his mouth). My reaction: Belly laugh, and fist pound on the table. Outcome for me: High impact wooden spoon to the forehead. Outcome for Junior: He LOVES eggs today.

Research Conclusions: It is the natural order. God put older brothers on this earth to ensure younger siblings find their way.  The RIGHT way.  And Jack, you can take this to the Bank.

Photograph: Thank you Emily RC Photography

Source: Thank you Jody Hedlund

NY Times, Sunday, June 16, 2013: Facebook Made Me Do It (Excerpts)

Source: gifsploitation

5:30 am.  59F. Birds up and singing in all their glory.  It’s still.  Very still.

I put on my Adidas running shorts.  Rachel’s scolding from months back surfaces: “I can see your tan line.  They’re too short.  Those are Perv Shorts.  Embarrassing. Go change.”  I growl.   Now, each time I put them on, I’m thinking Perv-Man.  Words. Killer.  What a delicate flower.

“What do you want to do for Father’s Day Dad?“
“I’d like to be left alone for the day.“
“Really?“
“Yes, if you could arrange for me to be sitting alone next to Thoreau, at Walden Pond, listening in on his thoughts, that would be a perfect Sunday.”
“Who? What?”
“Forget it Honey.  Forget it.”
“Have to say Dad, you have to stop your incoherent mumbling.”

I haven’t had a running post in weeks.  Lack of inspiration?  No.  Lack of running.  Self-described Weekend Warrior has shut down.  I ponder the long list of reasons why, including Man Down last week. Bottom line: Lazy-A**.  Mr. Stop and Go.  Outcome: A new 4-year high on the scale.  I’ve been feeding without a governor on Haagen Daz, Chobani yogurt laced with Smucker’s marmalade jam and heaping servings (multiple) of pasta.  Lucy Ball gobbling up chocolates on the conveyor – and actually keeping up with the pace.  Dr. Hitchcock is right: “It’s simple. More in than out.” Susan Barrett Kelly thoughts still nagging at me – - her Hindu relatives explaining that “reincarnation is not about living your whole life over again, but by being presented with lessons until you learn them.  When you learn them, you move on to a new lesson.”  Same lesson.  Over and over and over again.  Waves crashing the shore line.  Without respite.  When do I figure out this lesson…so I can move on to the next one?

Back to the run.

Home stretch of a head cold that is clinging for its life.  One week and still counting.  Mucous still draining.  I’m two miles out.  Place thumb and forefinger on left side of nose and blow.  A stream of mucous shoots out, with the tail end dangling down the front of my shirt.  Disgusting thick goop oozing down on Perv-Man’s shorts.  D*amn it.  Half of century of life and I can’t seem to get this right.  Maddening.  I brush it off.  I move to the right nostril.  And blow.  Another thick stream flies out, this time with a red carnation tint marking the asphalt.  Intestines? Odd, what a sense of accomplishment I felt in getting this done.  How old am I?

Marc and Eddy Verbessem drift back into my consciousness.  The twins haven’t been far away since yesterday morning.  Hovering.

The rest of my run I smell.  I see.  I feel.

Black cat ambling on the road.
The faint smell of seawater mixing with the pine of the deciduous trees, filling my lungs.
Featherlike breeze, just so soft and cooling the sweat on my back, my forehead.
Red cardinal fluttering its wings in a puddle.  While another looks on.
Cottontail rabbit, its hind legs propelling it across the side street.
Three geese swimming in single file.  Leaving a soft rippling wake on the Sound.

Gentlemen, I trust that you had a safe and pleasant journey.  And, I do hope to “see you on the other side.”

Time Check: 5 miles flat.  46 min 43 seconds.

Nap Time.

PUTTE, Belgium—In this small village amid an array of Flemish farms, they were an unusual but seemingly happy pair, two 43-year-olds who were identical, deaf twins. Townspeople recalled seeing Marc and Eddy Verbessem around town frequently, talking animatedly in sign language together, tooling around in a small blue car, and regularly buying two copies of a popular gossip magazine. No one expected them to decide to die on purpose. According to their doctor, the twins had developed a genetic disorder that was making them blind, and several years ago they began pressuring him to put them to death…their doctor says that as their condition worsened and threatened their independence, they would hand him envelopes containing a blunt request for euthanasia—and, for good measure, a list of symptoms they said were making their lives unbearable…Marc and Eddy, after a long legal and medical journey, met their doctors and family in a Brussels hospital, according to their doctor. They enjoyed a final cup of coffee and lay down in adjoining beds, where a chaplain said a prayer. Then they waved to their family, pointed up as if to say “see you on the other side,” received their injections, and were gone.

Image and Quote Credits on Verbessems’: Wall Street Journal.

Related Posts: Running Series 

“Nothing can be given or taken away; nothing has been added or subtracted; nothing increased or diminished. We stand on the same shore before the same mighty ocean. The ocean of love. There it is – in perpetuum. As much in a broken blossom, the sound of a waterfall, the swoop of a carrion bird as in the thunderous artillery of the prophet. We move with eyes shut and ears stopped; we smash walls where doors are waiting to open to the touch; we grope for ladders, forgetting that we have wings; we pray as if God were deaf and blind, as if He were in a space. No wonder the angels in our midst are unrecognizable.

Behind the Numbers : Drs. Dalene & Arne Von Delft from Kendy on Vimeo.

• The Metropolitan Transportation Authority put its best paws forward Friday, graduating a new class of police dogs at Grand Central Terminal in New York. Each dog received a collar, which includes the dog’s badge.
• The eight pooches have gone through an extensive 14 week training program and were taught how to detect explosives and work in crowded spaces.
• The new members of the K-9 force are being named after an officer or soldier who fell in the line of duty, including Glen (pictured above), who was named for Officer Glen Pettit who died in the line of duty.  And “Buck” who is named after Gregory Buckley, a Marine who was killed in Afghanistan.
• Family members of officers who died in the line of duty, received a placard noting that a new dog in the unit had been named in the officer’s honor.
• “I’m very, very proud. Especially that they’re honoring my son – my fallen hero. They’re naming him after him,” said Buckley’s mother, Marina Buckley.
• There are 50 dogs patrolling the Long Island Railroad, Metro-North and other facilities.
• See more pictures of the graduates accepting their diplomas and a short video clip of the event at this link.

Sources: NYDailyNews, NY1.com,

Playground, Italy from Matty Brown on Vimeo.

Incredible. When can we go?!

SMWI* = Saturday Morning Workout Inspiration