war: what is it good for? absolutely nothing.

Are we as a nation becoming desensitized to war? Desensitized to the physical and emotional damage, both immediate and delayed, that is  being sustained by our children, siblings and parents? Desensitized to what we are asking these men and women to do? To what we are asking them to endure day after day, month after month and year after year? Desensitized to the consequences of our actions as a nation as well as the consequences of our individual actions or inaction with regard to the events which are unfolding around us?

When will war become obsolete? When the thought of waging war becomes too horrendous to for nations, NGOs and individuals to contemplate. When the true effects of war are universally recognized and understood, both intellectually and emotionally. When we collectively and individually decide to look across the table, across the street, across town, across our country and across our borders and see people as people. As sons and daughters. As mothers and fathers. As husbands and wives. As people that love and are loved. As people without added labels, descriptions, qualifiers or other words tacked on that are designed to separate them from ourselves.

Unachievable? Utopian nonsense? Impossible? Perhaps today but who knows about tomorrow or the day after that. Someone has to be the first one. Perhaps that someone will be you?

I have a problem with God.

I have a problem with God. Or more precisely, I have a problem with the word God. I believe it is a product of convenience: a word created by humans to describe the indescribable. An artificial semantic construct that subtly shifts the inconceivable into the realm of the near tangible. It is a word that allows us to apply convention to something that is not just far beyond our physical capability for understanding but something that is seemingly beyond our abilities of abstraction and imagination.

By assigning a linguistic, etymological or symbolic value to that which can not be described, we simultaneously limit its scope and define it in our own terms, dragging it into the world of matter and energy in which we reside. And I believe that is both supremely arrogant and more importantly, a disservice to ourselves as it inhibits our ability to connect with something that is paradoxical and life altering.

As previously mentioned, the universe that we all know, the universe in which we exist, the universe described by Newton, Einstein, Bohr and Hawking comprises less than 4% of what astrophysicists can currently measure. Physically, we have no choice but take up space and conform to the limitations of this tangible universe. However we are not just physical. Thoughts are not physical. Insights are not physical and love is certainly not physical. We just choose to define and relate to them exclusively in physical terms. And by doing that, we limit ourselves from truly being who we are and experiencing that which can not be described.

Advice from long ago on a day of remembrance.

Many years before September 11, 2001, I was given the most wonderful advice by the most unlikely source. It was simple and to the point: "Do not worry about the evil, just concentrate on doing the good."  That moment was transformational and still lives with me today.

So when you remember the events of 8 years ago, please take an additional moment and acknowledge all those that have been touched by violence. No matter how large or how small the acts, whether perpetrated en masse or individually and those that are documented but especially those that have been forgotten, please extend empathy.

Despite the current state of the planet, despite our collective history, I know that our legacy is not cruelty, callousness and brutality. It is concern, compassion and forgiveness. Hate begets hate. Violence begets violence. Vengeance begets vengeance. And love begets love. "Do not worry about the evil, just concentrate on doing the good."

Are we worth remembering.

How is a society ultimately judged by history? One criteria is by the art left behind and how its most helpless, most insignificant members were treated. Think about the massive monuments created by the Egyptians and the stories of oppressive slavery. Or consider the Romans with their great architectural and engineering triumphs created in parallel with the persecution of Christians, Jews and other "barbarian" slaves.

How will we be remembered? As I write today, I am less concerned about our art and literature, however I am deeply concerned about how we so casually, rationally and systematically marginalize or even worse, ignore the weakest among us.

In 2009 America, the richest, most powerful, most free nation in the history of history, how many kids, no how many people go to bed hungry? How many people go to bed afraid of violence perpetrated inside the family and how many go to bed scared of the violence from without? How many live with not just the fear of getting sick but with the fear of not being able to get help?

Will we be remembered as a society that could have been more? That could been better but chose to turn a blind eye to mercy, empathy and caring for our own? A society that allowed the larger broader concepts of real justice and righteousness to be  institutionally obfuscated until the issues could be lacquered over or just swept away with the election cycle rhetoric?

It is usually really hard to look inward and be honest. It is often painful and upsetting. And the thought of it may be foreign and scary. But looking inward with an unbiased eye is essential to grow and become better.  To become something worth remembering. To create a society in which it is truly worth living.

Happy Birthday #1. How your birth changed my perceptions forever.

Today is #1's birthday, so most importantly, Happy Birthday #1 -I love you very much and hope that you have a wonderful day!

Prior to his birth, being a parent was never real to me. Even though I watched my wife grow larger, saw the ultra-sounds, was with her when she went into premature labor and then sentenced to bed rest for 8 weeks, actually having a baby was more surrealistic than realistic. The entire concept was an abstraction, the scheduled Cesarean was a date marked on the calendar, a day when I would not go to work. A day with other events scheduled before and after. I was completely naive, selfish and simply unprepared for the remarkable ramifications that would unfold.

A little back story for those who don't know me: growing up I could be characterized as difficult. I probably got into more trouble than the average kid. I could be mean, insensitive, aggressive and generally difficult. I gave my parents, my JHS teachers and peers a tough time. I was a bit more subdued while attending a private HS but some of the more wild traits re-emerged in college and beyond. By the time I met my wife and got married in late 80's I was more "mature" but certainly still aggressive and prone to rage, especially when frustrated. My view of the world and overall philosophy could be characterized as zero sum or all or nothing. Your gain was my loss and my gain, well I didn't really care about the ramifications of my gain. If you were not with me you were the enemy.

Back to August 17, 1994. While my wife was in the OR, I was outside, trying to get my scrubs on when the anesthesiologist burst out and rushed me inside. I saw my wife on the table and her insides were literally on a tray as the Ob/Gyn was extracting my son. He looked perfect, like a movie prop  (as all Cesarean babies are -they don't get squeezed during delivery). My wife was fine and she held him. I was pretty scared to hold him, frankly more scared than each of the times when I was shot at, but I did it anyway. And I think that is when it hit me. That was when my life began to turn, when my anger, fear and aggression began to dissolve.

When I held my son I had an epiphany; I realized that everyone on this earth is some-one's child. And that someone hopefully loves them as much as I loved this little boy. And further, they may even be some-one's mother or father, they may be a person who loves their kids and is loved by their kids.

My perception was changed. I was changed. I was made more human by understanding our commonality. Black, White, Asian. Christian, Jew, Muslim. Male or female. It doesn't matter, we were all born and we were all someone's child. With that understanding, how can we not love and feel compassionate to each other?

Thank you #1, you and your brother have changed my life forever for the better. I do and will always love you both. I am forever grateful that you guys came into my life.

die once.

Last summer, out of the blue,  my dad asked me to go coffin shopping with him. This seemed a little strange so I asked him why. He said that he wanted to make sure that he looked good in his coffin. I asked him if he was planning to try them out and if so, did he want me to take pictures. We never went to the funeral home but we did go to lunch.

A few weeks ago he experienced a health scare. He had a 2nd urinary tract infection in a 3 month period. He saw his Urologist and underwent various tests. He was convinced that he had bladder cancer and that it was quickly spreading. He was upset. He is a type A person who was losing control and he really believed that his was living his last days.

Before the test results came back, I called him up and asked how he was. He told me that he was fine but that he knew he had cancer and that he was going to die. I told him that he was right, he was going to die. It might be today, tomorrow or it might be 30 years from now. He may very well have cancer or he might get hit by a bus. I didn't know why, when or how, but I assured him that he was right, he was going to die. My dad didn't say anything. After a momentary pause I told him that my advice is to not focus on a possible hypothetical outcome but rather to live life now and just die once.

The tests came back a few days later and it was found to be a simple urinary infection; the most likely cause was that the original infection was not completely resolved. He apparently does not have cancer but he does have a happy and grateful family that enjoys his company, quirks and all. We love you dad. Live your life and die once!

Don't count on 2nd chances

You never know when this time will be the last time. Truly understanding that kind of permanence is very powerful and can have a profound impact on your life and the lives of those you encounter.

Simply treat each moment of each interaction as if it may be the last. You will become more cognizant and respectful of your time as well as the time of others. You will make sure that you take every opportunity to tell friends and loved ones how much you care. Your obligations will become conscious acts of kindness and respect. Insignificant confrontations will dwindle away. Grudges will vanish. Hatreds will fall aside. You will find yourself truly appreciating both your time alone and the time spent with others. Each and every moment will be a blessing. Each and every action, a willful gift to yourself and those around you.