After the Pope: the discussion continues....

Consistently, the recently departed Pope John Paul II and the Catholic Church insisted that "no one has the authority to end the life of an unborn child". Consistently the departed Pope and the Catholic Church insisted that women should not be permitted to assume senior positions of spiritual leadership. For these stances, the Pope and the Church he led has been roundlt accused, by some, of exacerbating the problems of teenage pregnacy, HIV/AIDS, women's rights, and the like. Those who are opposed to the view from the vatican accuse it of 'being' out of touch with modern society'. But is it really? In an age when very few dare to publicly oppose the "common social consensuses" on sexuality, spirituality, and other such 'sensitive' subjects, a bold advocate of traditional so-called traditional values can no longer contribute to the discussion. But you can, and, indeed, are encouraged to do so.

Should spiritual leaders be subject to transient social trends, appeasing the conventional interpretation of the times? If spiritual leaders adapt to the times are they selling out on their beliefs and the objectives of those beliefs, or not?

Was Pope John Paul II and the Catholic Church that he led, out of touch with modern society, or is modern society out of touch with timeless spiritual obligations?

At what point does the discussion on birth control begin to distract from the debate on political, corporate, and civic leaders' inability to address pandemic poverty and economic disparity between the haves and the have-nots?

Do the diminishing numbers of regular church goers mean that people are becoming less spiritually active or just that they are becoming more empowered to choose their spiritual paths unconstrained by any particular doctrine or institutional interpretation?

Are we facing a phenomenon of 'the prodigal churches' or is it one of 'the prodigal flok'?

So many questions. Wherefore are the answers?

You are invited to enrich the discussion.

Think Twice: Judge Not!

I recently received a provocatively revealing email from a good friend who runs a writer's support portal (www.writerssuccess.netfirms.com). Here it is:

TWO TOUGH QUESTIONS

Question 1:

If you knew a woman who was pregnant, who had 8 kids already, three who were deaf, two who were blind, one mentally retarded, and she had syphilis, would you recommend that she have an abortion?

Read the next question before looking at the answer for this one.

Question 2:

It is time to elect a new world leader, and only your vote counts. Here are the facts about the three leading candidates.

Candidate A -
Associates with crooked politicians, and consults with astrologists.
He's had two Mistresses. He also chain smokes and drinks 8 to 10 martinis a day.

Candidate B -
He was kicked ou t of office twice, sleeps until noon, used opium in college and drinks a quart of whiskey every evening.

Candidate C -
He is a decorated war hero. He's a vegetarian, doesn't smoke, drinks an occasional beer and never cheated on his wife.



Which of these candidates would be your Choice?

Decide first, no peeking, then scroll down for the answer.






----------------------------------------------




Candidate A: is Franklin D. Roosevelt.
Candidate B: is Winston Churchill.
Candidate C: is Adolph Hitler.


And, by the way, the answer to the abortion question: If you said yes, you just killed Beethoven.

Pretty interesting isn't it? Makes a person think before judging someone.

Never be afraid to try something new.

Remember:
Amateurs built the Ark

Professionals built the Titanic



and in case you never saw this one..! ....

Can you imagine working for a company that has a little more than 500 employees and has the following statistics:

* 29 have been accused of spousal abuse
* 7 have been arrested for fraud
* 19 have been accused of writing bad checks
* 117 have directly or indirectly bankrupted at least 2 businesses
* 3 have done time for assault
* 71 cannot get a credit card due to bad credit
* 14 have been arrested on drug-related charges
* 8 have been arrested for shoplifting
* 21 are currently defendants in lawsuits
* 84 have been arrested for drunk driving in the last year

Can you guess which organization this is?




Give up yet?





It's the 435 members of the United States Congress. The same group of people that crank out hundreds of new laws each year designed to keep the rest of us in line.

Habit: slave or master

I remember hearing, that once upon a moment, a long time ago, a humble, beloved, old man lay on his straw-thatched mat, gasping, barely, for each precious breath. Respected and influential, he had benevolently led his people for all of three decades and some, a decade longer than his father, the feared one, had done until he too had lain on this very same mat, on this very same baked-mud floor, gasping for each of his precious next breaths in this very same royal hut.

At the foot of his mat, in reverend silence, sat a tall, wiry, bearded man, with seemingly artistic honor-scars strewn all over his arms and chest, exposed beneath the traditional threads that constituted the warriors’ order. His name was – Faith. Faith had been with the dying Chief from before the coronation ceremony in that long ago year of abundant harvest. For all these years, Faith had been faithful to his sole purpose, that of protecting and projecting the will of his master, the Chief.

The silence was interrupted by the barest whisper of a knock; more like a rustle, on the beaded drapes that served as the entrance to the Chiefly abode. This was followed by a procession of seven sober men, the wisest in the land. Led by Habit, they in turn bowed their respects to the Chief before sitting, cross-legged around the Chiefly mat. Next to Habit sat Fame, then Fortune, then Fear, and Favor, then Force and finally Fortitude.

The wise men proceeded to inform the Chief that, based on their collective wisdom and insights, they were saddened that this would be his last moon, that it was certain that he would not live to see the next sunrise. They advised the Chief that it would be wise for him to pick his spot among the stars, his eternal place on the carpet of the night sky that was the resting place of the revered. It was time, the wise men told their Chief, for him to bestow on his eldest son (who was actually his eighth child, the others all being girl-childs) powers to ascend the Chieftainship.

Uncharacteristically interrupting the Chief’s weak acknowledgement of the sages’ advice, Faith, spoke up for the first time. As he sat faithfully at the foot of the Chief’s royal mat, he politely interjected, “O’ honored Chief, please, as your loyal servant I beg you, do not listen to this wisdom, for nature’s will is not born of wisdom. It is wisdom that is born of nature’s will.” Ignoring the glares of annoyance radiating from the Sages’ seasoned faces, Faith continued. “ Have I not served you with unflinching dedication for all of your adult life, Your Honor, and have you known me to ever speak out of turn? Please, then, do not dismiss my words without due pause”

Despite the angry protestations of the seven wise men, the frail Chief waved his servant Faith to continue.

“Your Honor, Habit has failed you by allowing Fear, Fame, and Fortune to dull the impact of Fortitude. They have weakened Force and completely ignored the relevance of Favor. Now they wish to deceive you into giving up on life. They hide behind their collective claim of wisdom and, rather than acknowledge their own limitations, they seek to impose it on your life’s energies. Do let me show Your Honor the folly of their advice”.

Brashly, as is often the case when the knowledgeable have their veneer held up to the light of introspection, Habit spoke up on behalf of his fellow wise men.

“Your Honor, we have advised you well as we had advised your venerated father before you, and as our fathers had advised your revered grandparents throughout the passage of time. Upon our advice each of your honored ancestors has ruled this land with dignity, and each has moved on to adorn the greater throne of the stars at the time of due bidding. It is now your time. Listen not to Faith, for his lot is merely to stand by Your Honor’s bidding based on our collective wisdom.”
Turning to Faith, the Chief haltingly enquired, “O’ faithful servant, how is it that you intend to show me that these are indeed not the last of my breaths as has been prophesized by the seven wise men?”

Faith agilely rose to his full, sinewy height, turned to each of the wise men in turn, and asked, “Which will live longer, your leader Habit or the Honored Chief?” Though ridiculed by this pointless question, Habit and the other wise men confidently responded that obviously Habit would outlive the Chief and that this exercise was interfering with the more urgent business at hand, that of fulfilling the destiny of the Chieftainship, in the interests of the land.

When they had exhausted their responses, Faith asked of his master if he could then demonstrate the folly of the prophecies. Almost without waiting for the Chief’s barely nodded consent to register in the minds of the wise men, Faith drew his well-honed warriors’ sword and slayed Habit in one seemingly seamless motion. As Habit’s slain body lay motionless beside the royal mat, Faith turned back to his master and, bowing respectfully, he declared, “My master, Habit is no longer in a position to influence your destiny. All of the wise men have exposed the limitations of their own understanding. Your Honor has outlived Habit despite the wise consensus. Surely, Your Honor can find the power to embrace a new counsel.”

And so it was that the Chief invoked the services of a new leader of the Counsel and the Chief named him New Habit.

And the Chief fell into a brief, yet healing slumber, prepared to share his benevolence among his people for many more sunrises and sunsets to come.

Are you a slave to your habits, or will you become their master?

'Till The Tide Turns

I once heard a story about a young boy who accompanied his mother to a concert. This was the six year old boy's first concert.
He was so excited.
As they entered the concert hall, the mother had to persistently tug on her son's arm, what with all the ritz and glamour around him. The high ceilings ["wow! its higher than the sky, mommy"], the commanding jewellery ["why did they tie so many big stones on their fingers mommy?], and, of course, said with the innocent unbridled mirth that only children seem capable of " they all look like penguins in a circus mommy"!
Finding their seats [row X, aisle seats 'n' and 'o'], the little boy suddenly realized he would not be able to see the show, given the elaborate hairdo of the lady seated directly in front of him ["mommy, her head is so long... look...she looks like a -"]. As mothers are apt to do, she interrupted her son just in time, just as the lady in front swivelled her precariously adorned head leftward, nose tracing a disapprovingly high semi-arch towards the source of the verbal faux pas behind her.
Embarrassed, the boy's mother intercepted the piercing stare, initiating a typical high society banter about how glamorous the evening was and how she had so looked forward to this concert. She had brought her son, she explained, because her husband was too busy. She whispered a volunteered "something more important had just come up". How fortunate that this was just a matinee and thus she could introduce the arts to her young son. As she showered measured compliments on her new 'friend' and and shared sophisticated chatter, the two women warmed up to each other [well, thawed might be a more apt term] such that the mother failed to notice that her son, unimpressed by the exchange, had wandered up the aisle.
The little boy had wandered innocently up the incline, past rows Y and Z, turned left along the back of row Z and determinedly overpowered the heavy door that led to the donuts - or at least the sign had read "DONOT" "ENTER". He followed the sounds coming from the far end of the well lit hallway and found himself looking at a huge room with many chairs neatly arranged in a semi-circle. Each chair seemed to have a matching shiny metal stand in front of it, and off to one side, near the ["Oh! that is sooo big"] curtain stood an enormous piano. He had never seen a piano this big! It was almost as big as, no..., bigger than the car his mommy drove on weekends. It was huge! And high too! He could even see himself reflected in its deep mahogany as he ran over to it.
Climbing expectantly onto the comfy stool in front of the huge "mirror-piano", he found himself looking at beautiful, long, black and white piano keys. "Wow!" Just as he began touching the white keys, he heard a soft swooshing sound behind him. He paid it no mind. This, he thought to himself, was going to be fun!
Meanwhile, as the curtain went up, the mother looked up from her conversation as the most acoustically excruciating piano noise possible filled the concert hall. Her feet became heavy and the palms of her hands balmy as the blood drained from her horror-struck face. Stunned, dry mouth transfixed ajar, she stared vacantly at the stage, with her six year old pounding mercilessly away at the poor, delicate piano. The horror of the scene had barely registered in her conscious mind when the Maestro strode purposefully across the stage towards the pummelling taking place at his PIANO.
For a moment the mother stared at the floor beneath her, willing it to open up, to teletransport her back to her home, to her bed, where she could wake up to realize she'd just had a terrible nightmare.
No such luck.
The Maestro reached the PIANO, leaned his mouth close to the little boy's left ear, and whispered "Don't stop, my dear, just keep on playing".
As if the boy needed any encouragement!
He pummelled away.
The Maestro sat down on the boy's right side, pulled the stool closer to the piano, and reached his left hand around the boy's back. Masterfully, he began improvising around the boys erratic pummelling. He staccatoed the high notes and blended the lows. A moment later he invoked his genius and created a spell-binding climax that resonated through the hushed hall. As if on pre-planned cue, he wrapped up the mesmerizing improvisation by craftily shunting the stool back, barely yet just enough as to render the piano out of reach of the little boy.
Again, on cue, he stood up, holding the beaming boy's little hand in his impeccably gloved one, faced the enraptured audience, and took a bow. The immensely proud boy, unimpeded by a middle-age girth, and without a care in the world, took an ever deeper bow, soaking in the deafening spontaneous applause.
The tears that flowed down the mother's now rosy cheeks were indeed tears of relief-laced joy. And her silent prayer was brief, humble, and profound.
Just as the little boy had done, we too can take the "wrong turn" in life. Just as much, we too can stumble onto opportunities that test our innocence and our sense of daring. Often we can open the "wrong door" in pursuit of some misperceived attraction. Often it is in pursuit of new comforts or, more often than not, it is to get away from existing discomforts. If, regardless, we find ourselves on the proverbial 'stage of life', we give in to the compulsion to play our part, sometimes oblivious to the discord that it causes to others (be they known to us or not).
The grace of nature is, however, that those who are humble in their pursuit and intention should allow for nature's force-for-good, often taking its place right next to them at just the right moment and not a moment too soon. Such a force can, andmoften does, influence their inevitable ultimate success - if they keep on playing. To stop playing their part prior to the advent of divined success serves neither their own viability nor that of those who they wish to serve [family, firm, friends, faith etc]. To give up in the midst of straddling a puddle is obvious folly. It invites disaster, reinforces lesser expectations, exaggerates faults or weaknesses, and distorts the ability to again, get up and move on ahead.

"ask for help not because you are weak, but because you want to remain strong" L. Brown

"When times get tough, keep on playing your part on the stage of life - until the tide turns, as inevitably it always will"
TMB

Worthwhile Journeys

"Greatness is as greatness does". In your understanding, what does it take to be "great" or to accomplish great deeds? What is greatness in the first place? Can only some accomplish great deeds or is greatness there for universal taking?

There is the oft quoted Confucian saying that "every journey begins with a single step". Whilst I fully identify with this simple, ageless wisdom, I suggest the need to appreciate, more significantly, that this "first step" is absolutely never a physical phenomenon. Indeed, nature's wisdom suggests that 'every journey , worthwhile or otherwise, begins with a single thought of dream'.

A deep understanding of this holds within itself a fundamental ingredient for assuring personal or professional greatness. Too many people fail to internalize the implications of this simple reality. Many still allow their lives to be limited by past mishaps, to be paralysed by their fears. Even more tragically, many more allow the fears and experiences of other people around them (disguised as criticism, realism, and the like) to rob them of their birthright to rendevous with greatness.

Not enough individuals actively cultivate a burning desire to unleash the only aspect of life over which they have absolute dominion, the one step that is pivotal in helping them transcend the mediocrity of allotted personal or professional pigeon-holes. Some don't know where to start. Others don't know how to develop empowering dreams. Others yet know not how to drown out the nagging voices (within and without) that drain their creative impulses, that drown out the significance of the wisdom that 'every journey, worthwhile or otherwise, begins with a single thought or dream'.

I once heard it said that 'one of life's greatest tragedies is the stillbirth of good ideas'. Nurture yours.

Dying for someone else's pleasure

Worth reflecting on:

LONDON (Reuters) - Smoking destroys protective molecules in saliva and transforms it into a dangerous cocktail of chemicals that increases the risk of mouth cancer, scientists say.

"Cigarette smoke is not only damaging on its own, it can turn the body against itself," said Dr Rafi Nagler, of the Technion-Israel Institute of Technology in Haifa, Israel.

Saliva contains antioxidants, molecules that normally protect the body against cancer, but Nagler and his colleagues have discovered that cigarette smoke destroys the molecules and turns saliva into a dangerous compound.

"Our study shows that once exposed to cigarette smoke, our normally healthy saliva not only loses its beneficial qualities but it turns traitor and actually aids in destroying the cells of the mouth and oral cavity," he added.

In research reported in the British Journal of Cancer on Wednesday, Nagler and his team studied the impact of cigarette smoke on cancerous cells in the laboratory.

Half of the cells were exposed to saliva exposed to cigarette smoke and the other half just to the smoke. Cells exposed to the saliva mixture had more damage and it increased along with the time of exposure.

"Most people will find it very shocking that the mixture of saliva and smoke is actually more lethal to cells in the mouth than cigarette smoke alone," Nagler added in a statement.

Smoking and drinking are the leading causes of head and neck or oral cancers, which includes cancer of the lip, mouth, tongue, gums, larynx and pharynx. Nearly 400,000 new cases of the illness are diagnosed worldwide each year with the majority in developing countries. The five-year survival rates are less than 50 percent.

Nagler and his colleagues believe the research could open up new avenues to develop better treatments to prevent oral cancer.

"This insight into how mouth cancer can develop offers more reasons for smokers to try and quit," said Jean King, of Cancer Research UK, which publishes the journal. "People know the link with lung cancer and this research adds compelling evidence about the damage smoking can do to the mouth."

Realities Distorted...?

We have all heard the criticism: America is too stingy, richer countries are dedicating smaller percentages of their GDP for development assistance, debt levels of poor countries are too high and need to be written off. The cacophony of condemnation is resounding and persistent.

Indeed, only Norway, Denmark, Luxembourg, The Netherlands, and Sweden expended above the universally committed threshold of 0.7% of GDP in 2003. Belgian dedicated just below the agreed threshold. Much shame is focused on the other leading economies in the world.

France and the United Kingdom only managed to meet half of the pledged levels in 2003, while Germany expended about 0.28% of GDP, Japan about 0.4% and the 'big, bad economic superpower' only managed a paltry 0.14% of GDP.

But is this the full story?

I suggest that it is not!

Rather than join the convenient, or rather knee-jerk, politically correct 'Geldorf bandwagon', which calls for debt write-offs, for more grants-in-aid, and for higher levels of funding for development assistance programs, I suggest that what is needed far more urgently is more competent utilization of resources by the recipient countries. Despite the shrill voices from the international civil society communities and from some shades of political activists, increasing the volume of financial assistance before recipient countries clean up their corrupt governance is literally throwing good money after bad. Chastising the richer countries for not granting carte blanche debt moratoriums is not necesarily going to help the people who need the assistance most.

Besides, there are also many who are abjectly poor, unemployed or under-employed even within the richer countries themselves.

If we revisit donor expenditures for 2003, we note that, together, the Scandanavian countries spent aapproximately $12bn in 2003 alone. France and the United Kingdom spent $7.3bn and $6.2bn respectively, while Germany dedicated $6.7bn, while Japan spent $8.9bn and the United States $15.8bn. Together, according to the OECD (quoted in Der Spiegel) the top 22 donor nations expended in excess of $66bn in 2003 alone. Such development assistance programs have been taking place each year since before most of us were even born. I'll let you do the math.

Surely then, a discussion that focuses merely on percentages rather than on actual volumes and, more importantly, on impact assessment, does not do justice to the cause.

I wish to suggest that the emphasis should be on (a) vigorously calling on the governments of donor countries to more fully account, to their own populations, on how they expend their tax payers' money in so-called overseas development projects, and (b) unrelentlessly insisting on recipient country governments to be duly transparent and accountable for the development of their people's lives.

Maybe then, your tax moneys will be put to more effective use in the interests of the poorest communities in this world, rather than (a) lining the pockets of recipient-country elites and (b) padding the rhetoric of donor-country political platforms.

In the poets words
"... neutral is no option
if not for them
you're against
lend to them your weight
before its too late
if you squint them out of sight
you side
with those of might
frail lives
further deprive ..."
[extract from "See", reprinted from "The Storyteller" (ISBN 3-8330-1055-X)]