1 Thing You Can Do This Week (To Get Along Better With Others)

 

People don’t remember and when they do remember, they don’t remember well. They tend to recall victories in their lives or times when they looked extremely powerful, and they will have their own rendition of those tales.

There is a nasty movement of human hatred within the human race. With all the false esteem, life coaches and optimism, we have just decided that humans should be gods, and when they aren’t, we’re really pissed off.

Humans are not godly, they are not divine, they’re not even spiritual. They are carnal beings who are capable of emotion and being touched by the Spirit.

So if you want to get along with friends, relatives and even strangers, the one thing you can do this week is:

DON’T EXPECT PEOPLE TO REMEMBER

That goes for your birthday. How about an upcoming dinner invitation? A concert. A meeting. Your telephone number. Your favorite color. Or the fact that you’re allergic to shellfish.

Whenever these things come up, kindly and tenderly drop a hint about them so those around you can once again hear what they need to remember, and feel really smart that they do.

Get the chip off your shoulder and replace it with a brain that’s supposed to sit up there. It is unfair to expect people to take care of their own lives and still maintain a calendar of events concerning yours.

Nudge people in the right direction, mention things that are going to happen and give them the chance to recollect.

If you do, you will be a hero instead of someone who “unfriends” people on Facebook because they did not know about the upcoming anniversary of something or other.

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PoHymn: A Rustling in the Stagnant … November 1st, 2017

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I’ll Let You Know

To all the ladies of the Earth

Who grant our species needful birth

It’s time for us to let you know

Some way for us to finally show

That carnal men from far and wide

Flirt, deceive, have notoriously lied

In an attempt to gain power

Have dominated each moment and hour

For she must become an acquisition

To diminish her purpose and position

A sexual object without a name

An adversary available for blame

So men will intimidate

Like gorillas, they imitate

Thumping the chest

Insisting they’re the best

And whispering a little something

Foul, mean–a sour nothing

Harass her ass

He grovels and pokes

Ask for favors

Pretend it’s jokes

If you want to make progress

He wants you to undress

Fill the Bill

Acting Spacey

Dirty talk

Make it racy

If you cry you lose your chance

If you agree you join the dance

So it’s time to finally replace

And rename the macho disgrace

For I am a woman, watch me grow

And if I’m interested, I’ll let you know.

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G-Poppers … July 7th, 2017

 

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Is it natural? G-Pop is particularly curious.

Are people naturally mean, or typically kind?

Is it normal to be self-involved, or is there a part of our inner being that yearns to escape selfishness?

Are folks naturally bigoted? In other words, is there an inclination somewhere in our DNA to cling to those who resemble us?

Are we talented?

Is the human race spiritual, or much too burdened by its carnal appetites?

Is intelligence a part of our makeup, or is a certain amount of vague, blank misunderstanding intertwined in our beings?

What is natural?

Are we naturally generous?

Is it common to be vengeful?

Forgive, or unforgiving?

What are the drastic differences between the genders that cause us to believe there’s a chasm that cannot be crossed?

What is natural?

G-Pop offers this warning: over the past ten years we’ve promoted a sarcastic, cynical and bitter interpretation of our species. It’s become easier to accept lying, cheating, immorality, greed, and hubris as natural parts of the human intellect instead of temptations that are given too much time and turf.

So the statement, “I’m only human” covers a multitude of sins–from being late to a dinner party to accidentally shooting a suspect or a police officer.

What is natural? G-Pop wants you to know one simple fact:

Babies are born beings. We teach them to be human.

Being human is simple–it is an intelligent awareness of our animal instinct, while simultaneously reaching inside ourselves to find the breath of God.

Even though we’re not spiritual, we also are not carnal. Not one of us would last fifteen minutes in a jungle with other creatures. And though our first instinct may not be gentleness, we are fully aware that the backlash which comes from sporting antagonism leaves us offensive, if not mortally wounded.

Beware–there is a movement in our society to make every human vice seem natural. It is not.

We are not animals. We are the part of the animal kingdom which has emerged through the intelligence of the Creator, to be able to think, reason, feel, empathize and invent.

This is natural.

So we may find ourselves needing to challenge our motives a bit more often.

But in the long run, we will find that we live more peaceably with other folks when we go to sleep knowing that we did more loving than gnawing.

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Ask Jonathots… September 15th, 2016

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I truly don’t understand what the big deal is about sex. I haven’t figured out why people think your sex related decisions define you. Is it just because a) you’re naked, and b) it’s how babies are created?

There is a simple problem in our country:

Those who believe in God fail to honor science, and those who revere science find it necessary to turn their backs on God.

There seem to be relatively few people who understand that a Creative Father felt the need to establish an order through Mother Nature.

With that in mind, let’s address your question.

• When do people mature sexually? Somewhere between the age of 13 and 15.
• When do we think people should get married? Late twenties, or some folks even think early 30’s.

So in our culture there are fifteen years of sexual viability which is supposed to be stuffed away in a closet in preparation for marriage, or stumbled into through carnal experimentation made dangerous through immaturity and disease.

We really have to make up our minds. Are we going to continue to believe that people are children until they’re thirty, or are we going to establish an earlier emotional awareness to match the sexual awakening?

Sex is a big deal because people either pretend it’s sacred or just “a physical experience.” Since human beings may be the only species in which both male and female have the capacity for pleasure outside of procreation, we should probably emphasize the pleasure side of sexuality instead of insisting that God has belabored the girl with birth and the boy with “killing the game and dragging it back to the fire.”

What is sex? It is a physical experience producing a burst of pleasure which is also used by our species for procreation.

So if you have no intention of procreating, then you should be looking for ways to tap the pleasure without becoming irresponsible.

If your intention is to procreate, then you probably need to do what all the animals on Earth do–find a way to nest with your mate to take care of your baby birds.

You have to make up your mind:

Are we just animals or is there more to us than that?

Are we just spiritual or do we possess a bit of animal?

Sexuality can never be casual because we’re not just tigers. It can also never be considered completely spiritual–it’s too easy to do and we really don’t do it any different from the monkeys.

So what’s the best answer for you?

Get a mature look at both your physical evolution and your emotional responsibility. You will never be able to have sex without having some inclination toward an emotional union.

Avoid the stupidity of the religious, who make the joining of the penis and the vagina some sort of holy oracle.

And also escape the worldly, who view it as a common crossroads of human interaction.

In the long run we will have to teach our children to mature more quickly–or else not be so concerned that they start “probing the parts.”

For after all, even the Pope knows that nobody’s going to arrive at twenty-nine years of age a virgin.

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Confessing … September 5th, 2015

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XVIII.

I confess so I can heal.

If I deny, I remain sick.

She was married and so was I–but not to each other.

She loved my mind.

I, hers.

We were connected in heart and soul.

From the first day, she sat and listened to my compositions, and I told her I wanted to record them and put them out, while starting my own music group to travel the country, sharing.

She was there.

She signed up.

For eight years, she stayed devoted to the dream as we crossed the nation, appeared on the PTL Club, the stage of the Grand Ole Opry, recorded at Johnny Cash’s studio, and even, in some cities, hit the gospel music charts.

We were close.

She was happy.

I wanted more.

I misinterpreted her consecration and faith in me for romance. I pushed. She pulled back, so I pushed some more.

She didn’t want to lose our friendship and mission, so she would occasionally give in to some awkward situations. Yes, she pretended to be interested.

She wasn’t.

I knew it.

This sometimes made me fussy and mean. We argued.

I turned something spiritual into a carnal nightmare. We never did anything. Honestly, if she had opened up to the boy-girl thing, I probably would have run like a frightened school child. She tried to reason with me.

Then her husband had an affair. She was broken and anguished. They divorced.

But rather than being a friend to her, I was just another source of conflict. She thought about dating, and because we were such good friends she asked me about it, but I discouraged her because of my raging jealousy.

She was so unhappy.But she still stayed as long as she could because she loved the music.

I drove her away–and when she left, she felt like we couldn’t be friends anymore without errupting the volcano of dissatisfaction.

We should have great memories.

We should be contacting each other frequently with updates on our lives.

But you see, I wasn’t happy with mere happiness. I wanted a “more” that I couldn’t explain but still tried to pursue.

I was young, foolish and self-centered.

I am sorry.

I had her full love, deep respect and tremendous honor–and lost it in pursuit of her flesh.

Love isn’t crazy.

I am crazy to have lost a living love … for the prospect of a temporary connection.

 

 

 

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A Carnal Man … June 3, 2013

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He was scrawny to my fatso, black to my white, smoker to my smokeless and Southern to my Mid-West. Yet he made his way to the window of my van to ask about the conversion aspect of my vehicle and to inquire whether it came “with a bed.”

Always glad to attempt the art of small talk, even when it seems to have microscopic possibilities, I explained all about my vehicle, including the fact that I purchased it with a bed, but I removed it so I could store equipment.

After a few questions about gas mileage, engine size and ride on the road, he finally arrived at his primary concern. “Do most of these conversion vans have beds in the back?”

I told him I believed they did–and he smiled. (When he smiled, I discovered that he was minus a few teeth.)

He then launched into a discourse on the beauty, the power, the glory and the availability of “pepper pots.” (Now, it really wasn’t pepper pots, but for the sake of keeping my jonathots free of questionable language, I will insert this euphemism.)

It very quickly became clear that my new conversation friend loved pepper pots. Matter of fact, he wanted to buy a van so he could climb into the back, onto the bed and discover all the intricacies and inner workings of pepper pots.

Honestly, I was a bit startled with the transition–from talking about front disc brakes to pepper pots–but I decided to hang in there so as not to appear judgmental, naive or discourteous. Little did I know that pepper pots was one of his favorite topics of conversation.

Also somewhere along the line, in elaborating about pepper pots, he decided to start talking about “salt mounds” (once again, a euphemism.)

He yammered and yammered and yammered about the subject. I think I saw a tear come to his eye when he discussed the gorgeous nature of pepper pots and salt mounds joining together to perform the action that God intended.

All at once, he mentioned the fact that his wife had died six years earlier. I seized that moment to change the subject to his dearly departed, to find out a little more about her. He softened as he explained that he had been married to her for twenty-three years, had stayed faithful and had never visited another pepper pot as long as she lived. It was a sweet moment.

But then he noticed my I-pad sitting in my lap and wondered if I had been watching X-rated movies. Reassuring him that I hadn’t, he went on to explain that if I WAS looking for such entertainment, there was a wonderful video store just down the street that had some of the finest flicks available–and also some side rooms where you could improv with the scenes you had just beheld.

I was certainly out of my element–but honestly did not want to come across like a prude or some sort of evangelist out to save his soul or … well, I really just didn’t know how to get out of the entanglement.

He stayed and he stayed and he stayed. Several times I reached out to shake his hand, to bring finality to our excursion, which he gladly shook–and then continued on with his tales.

I believe he took every angle on the pepper pots and salt mounds that was humanly possible.

I listened. Why?  Because I knew this stranger was lonely.

Sometimes we’re very critical of people and refer to them as “carnal” because they only pursue matters of the flesh. We never stop to realize that this kind of odyssey ends up your day with skin and goo. Nothing much ever gets inside.

But here I was–a fella sittin’ in front of him, about his age–and I was listening.

We must have talked for forty minutes–so much so that any additional dialogue about pepper pots and salt mounds would not be necessary for me for at least a couple of years.

At length, I realized I could not get rid of the fellow unless I told him I had to go. Fortunately for me, it happened to be the truth. I excused myself and he asked me where I was heading.

I said, “I have to go pick up my friends.”

“Pepper pots?” he asked.

“And much more,” I replied.

I squeezed his hand and looked into his eyes. There was a living soul there. There was a lot of passion there. There was a lot of belief in life that would not necessarily be acceptable in normal liturgy on a Sunday morning.

This man worshiped one part of creation–honestly, a very small part. Yet getting him to believe in the true nature Creator would be much easier to do than some hardened Bible thumper who was convinced that he was already redeemed.

I think this is why Jesus said that God is very willing to leave the ninety-nine in the wilderness to go after the one that’s lost. Sometimes you get tired of tending the sheep and you want to chase down a wild one. You know–folks who talk about pepper pots and salt mounds.

I told him I’d be thinking about him … and “God bless you.”

He was sad to see me go.

I read somewhere that a carnal mind is the enemy of God. It’s not because God is prissy. It’s because when all you can think about is fleshy things, you often end up alone.

And I also read: “It’s just not good for a man to be alone.”

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A Prudent Student … January 3, 2013

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So what do you think of my sexy picture? On second thought–please don’t tell me.

Sex. Sex is a three-letter word that is so intimidating that it scares four-letter words back to attending church. The trouble with sex is that most people fictitiously believe they’ve mastered it and therefore need no more training, insight or awareness of those around them. It’s why we often equate sex with violence–because people tend to become very defensive about their prowess, often to the point of hurting others to prove their superiority.

But as I said, in 2013 I am determined to go back to a child-like perception which will grant me power in my faith instead of draining off my potential relationship with God and human beings through my arrogance.

So what do children think about sex? Children are curious. Me too.

There is nothing in our entire experience as people that blends more of the carnal and the spiritual than sexuality. Those who approach it purely as a physical act end up frustrated, often degrading themselves in personal mishap. Those who insist that it’s purely spiritual are often relegated to a comedy of errors, and then overemphasis on the propriety robs the passion.

I want to be like a child. I want to remain curious. I want to learn about my own body, heart, soul and mind–and try to bring all four of them to the party of sexual relationship.

What else do we know about children? They have lots of questions and should never be pushed aside because we are nervous or feel their inquiries are premature or inappropriate. I have many questions. I have learned this–sex is always at its best when both parties are excited. If a woman believes that sex is a way to manipulate a man, she will not only fail to hold his attention and devotion, but she will often find herself without pleasure. If a man thinks that sex is a way to impress a woman, he will discover that much of her foreplay happens in stimulating her own level of enthrallment in the process.

Wouldn’t it be wonderful if we actually lived in a religious system  which is not afraid to discuss human sexuality and would answer questions instead of tabling them because they seemed too “nasty?”

And finally, as a child who wants to gain a simpler approach to my sexuality, I need to learn to “school the rule.” Is there any better example of the Golden Rule than human sexuality? Do unto others as you would have them do unto you… We know this–sex is really stinky when you expect more than you are willing to give. And if the Golden Rule works with sexuality, it gives greater credence to the fact that it will work with our emotional system, mental acuity and spiritual well-being.

So what do I want to be in 2013 sexually? A prudent student.

I want to stop being a cocky male who thinks that every woman in the room is intrigued with his magnetism. Instead, I want to be curious, ask questions without fear and apply the Golden Rule–do unto others as you would have them do unto you. In the process I can break down this phony, manipulative attitude that presently is permeating the sexuality of our culture.

I am a child learning about myself sexually. As long as I have that approach, I will be gentle, tender and valuable to my partner.

I am a prudent student. It’s a wonderful way to take that three-letter word and make it much less frightening.

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