Category: Life

Positivity is the world’s saving grace

On By Malcolm R. CampbellIn Life10 Comments

“I’d like to invite you to join me for two days of pure positivity. Forty-eight little hours of looking for and at only the good stuff. Of ignoring what isn’t beautiful. I’m not asking you to give up misery forever. Forty-eight hours and one minute from now, you are welcome to seek out all the stuff that makes you angry, sad, frustrated, and worried, but for two days, let’s sweep all that under the rug and then dance atop it. What do you say, are you in?” – Beth Grace in Your Voice Within

Focusing on the good stuff ain’t easy.

positivveSeems like the world throws a lot of curve balls at us and our friends–and at other good people as well. Getting depressed or angry is probably a very human response.

Plus, many of us have “hot buttons,” issues that almost automatically bring fire-breathing anger and personal issues that upset us so much we lose our cool and say words we can never call back.

I’ve spent a lifetime working on controlling negative emotions, damping down what I jokingly refer to as my “volatile Scots’ temper.” My temper doesn’t flare up  as often as it used to, nor as forcefully. For one thing, the logical side of myself realized years ago that anger primarily hurts the person who’s angry unless they haul off an hit, shoot or bully somebody with words, things I hope I will never do.

My logical conclusion is: anger is a waste of time. The person or group I’m angry at doesn’t even know it. Yes, if it’s a social matter or a political matter, I can join others in protesting it or expressing my beliefs about the issues involved, but anger won’t help me do that. Meanwhile, the anger is hurting me, causing anything from indigestion to a preoccupation with fuming thoughts that distract me from the things I’d much rather be doing.

The Silva Method

Years ago, I took a two-weekend seminar that was developed out of the research of a man named Jose Silva that focused on positive thinking, mediation, improving memory, and on techniques that helped bring dreams into reality. Few of us could match the adeptness of our instructor in any of these areas. But we all reported a similar benefit: for many months after the course, we all felt like we were walking on air. We were simply completely happy and confident.

Unfortunately, most of us didn’t spend enough time in the years following the course to maintain such a high level of bliss. The world gets to you after a while. It not only throws those curve balls, but it mocks you if you maintain a peaceful and nonviolent approach to the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune.

Like the martial arts, sports, music, learning another language, and almost everything else we may wish to master, mastery of oneself and one’s emotions and negative mental chatter requires constant monitoring and practice. Life gets in the way, doesn’t it? We get up at 6:30 a.m., commute to work, get home early in the evening, have supper, and then fall into an easy chair and watch TV until it’s time to go to bed. It just too darned easy to skip meditation and practice. So, without vigilance, even after one takes a course or listens to an inspiring speech, it’s easy to slip back into the old habits.

Rosicrucian Order

I have been a member of the Rosicrucian Order for almost half a century. I’m embarrassed to admit this because I’ve probably spent a tenth of the amount of time required to fully take in the wisdom of this mystery school and apply it to every day life. I apply it more to my writing than to myself. I’m grateful for the magic and mystery that ancient wisdom brings to my writing. However, I have–it appears–chosen to bring less of it into my day to day living than I should have. Like studying Kabbalah  and other ancient “big picture” approaches to the universe and how it works, the order takes a positive, non-judgemental approach to improving one’s life while making Earth a better place for everyone.

So it is that I am pleased when I read posts like Beth Grace’s “48 Heart-Centered Hours.” Beth, and others, remind me how dangerous to oneself negative thoughts can be, and lead us back into the fold where positive thoughts are more the norm than an anomaly. Sheepishly, I think, “Well, I knew that, so why haven’t I been more dedicated in living a life based on a positive focus?”

Beth’s invitation to two days of heart centered hours came at the same time that I’ve been doing the final revisions on my latest book. What a wonderful experience this has been! The words fell into place because I was staying away from negative thoughts, thoughts that really have no value whatsoever no matter how “right” we think we are about one issue or another. And yes, I have felt more bliss and energy during the last 48 hours than usual!

I have an edge, perhaps. Age has brought me to a point where getting angry is just too much trouble. I tend to look for other ways of addressing issues that need to be fixed. But I need reminders. There are many positive blogs around that help me find my loving center again. Beth’s is relatively new and one that has helped me ind my bliss again.

–Malcolm

Malcolm R. Campbell writes magical realism because he believes in magic.

Seriously, why do I need to know everything right now?

On By Malcolm R. CampbellIn Life3 Comments

We’re living in a right now world.

Of course, it’s always now.

But the now I care about is the now I can see, hear, taste, touch and smell.

  • skunkIf I’m enjoying smelling the roses in my side yard, I don’t really need an “urgent” text message from a friend saying, OMG I just ran over a skunk on Interstate 75. (Unless the skunk or the smell of the skunk caused a car wreck, this information can wait until later–or possibly never.)
  • When I turn on CNN, I see that the words “BREAKING NEWS” are always on the TV screen even if the news happened a week ago. The primary breaking news on CNN is that a bunch of talking heads are telling me what they thing about the news rather than covering actual news. (I got fooled by this at first and though some hideous events were happening over and over again.)
  • Looking for interesting posts on Facebook, I don’t need to see status updates that look like this: “Good one.” “Oh no, look at that chick’s ugly dress.” “What a bunch of crap.” “Yikes, the killer is getting away.” (I took me a while to figure out that the people posting these updates weren’t necessarily crazy–though that’s possible. They were making comments about some TV show they were watching, you know, like were were all watching it together.
  • When I’m busy defusing a bomb that somebody left under the hood of my car after watching the movie called “Speed,” I don’t really want to get a slough of voice mail messages from you saying stuff like this: “Hi Malcolm, this is Bob, just calling to see if you’re still alive.” “Malcolm, I know you’re not dead, please pick up.” “If you don’t answer your GD phone when I call you, why do you have a GD  phone?” (Bob, the Earth circles around the sun rather than around you.)
  • When I’m watching an exciting episode of NCIS, I don’t really want my local network station to preempt the the show with five minutes of emergency “JUST HAPPENED” commentary about a dead skunk on the Interstate with on-the scene coverage from reporters saying, “This is Bob Smith standing next to a dead skunk a mile south of the Highway 53 exit for Calhoun. It smells really bad. Back to you at the station, Susan.” (Meanwhile, I missed the stunning conclusion of my program and have gotten back to the network feed in time for a Preparation H commercial.)
  • Let’s say I just ran over a skunk on I-75. You send me a text message: “7132 hh lol”  (First, I need to remind you that looking at text messages while I’m driving is illegal in Georgia. Second, I need to remind you that I hate text messages because typing is a lot more trouble than actually talking. Finally, I have no clue what that gibberish means anyway and think maybe you’re a troll or a hooker.)
  • I try to avoid Twitter because most of it’s gibberish from people who think I care about what they’re doing right now as opposed to what I’m doing right now. When you say, “fantastic sex with my hooker BF is happening while I tweet,” I want to respond with “TMI.” (Actually, I don’t want to respond at all and will assume you’re insane, arrogant, or are having lousy sex that leaves you time to be on Twitter.)
  • If you just discovered minutes ago that a Hollywood star most of us thought had been dead for years has just now passed away, it really means you just now heard of it and think that my life will be changed forever if I don’t know about it immediately. (As it usually turns out, the breaking news in this information is the fact you just heard about it even thought it happened last week.)

There are days when I want to throw away my cell phone, swear off Facebook and Twitter, and stop listening to the so-called breaking news that isn’t breaking.

If you just discovered something, please don’t call.*

–Malcolm

*Unless you think I just ran over a skunk and want me to know there’s a bomb in my car that will go off if I don’t keep going at over 55 mph in spite of the smell.

 

 

Pardon the language, but are “sh_t” or “go blind” valid alternatives?

On By Malcolm R. CampbellIn Life4 Comments

Obviously, when somebody says a group of people or farm animals don’t know whether to shit or go blind, we’re supposed to know that the phrase is figurative and means the people or animals are confused.

As a writer, I can’t help but smile at the phrase because it’s tempting to take it literally and wonder if the first person who ever said it was–in fact–so gobsmacked, they didn’t know whether to shit or go blind because these alternatives really don’t belong together,

I mean, who would choose “go blind”?

Maybe there are actually more options but they don’t see them because the last time they were confused, they chose “go blind” instead of heading for the outhouse.

I’ve never seen a national poll on this question, so I don’t know how many people favor one option over the other. Perhaps many of them would write in “none of the above” or add another option called “use my brain.”

As an often-cynical writer, I see the comments on news sites written beneath new stories and think a lot of people aren’t aware that there are additional operations. Somewhere–childhood, perhaps–they were brainwashed into an either/or mentality.

Then there are those who, when hearing the phrase, think, “I’ve already used the bathroom, so I guess that means I have to go blind.” I see a lot of people on Facebook post status updates that indicate this solution happens more often than we think.

In case you’re wondering, I try to use the bathroom on a schedule my doctors approve of even though some of them have said, “hell, you don’t want to go blind, do you?” I can see how some people might think if they forget to go to the bathroom, they might lose their sight and then they wouldn’t be able to find the bathroom, thus ending up picking both options.

How sad is that?

I’ll admit that when it comes to some things, I am (figuratively speaking) blind. By that I mean, I have my hot buttons and biases and hope you understand that when you read things on this blog, they represent my experiences and may not be true for you.

In this case, that could mean that the shit or go blind choice really works for you. In a way, that’s good, because it doesn’t clutter up the mind with the thousand actual options that exist.

The major news media are facilitate this limited view of the world. CNN believes in going blind and FOX believes in shit. Now, if you see that the opposite way, that’s fine because I may be too blind (figuratively speaking) to see that you’re right. I don’t think you are right, but then I haven’t hired any private detectives to hide in the shrubbery at your house to see whether you go to the bathroom regularly and/or walk around with a blindfold, stumble over chairs, and scream, “Oh shit!”

For those I’ve offended, I want to point out that (a) my header says “pardon” the language and (b) I don’t usually use the word “shit” in polite company (whatever that means).

I thought of all this because I see so many people out on the Internet who believe news stories and posts that coincide with what they want to hear and shout “lies” or “bias” when they find news stories they don’t like, seemingly blind to the idea there are multiple points of view. So far, haven’t asked if they stopped having regular bowel movements.

I don’t have any solutions for the shit or go blind brainwashing because many people don’t see how blind they are to the things they don’t want to hear, much less believe. This means they made their choice so many years ago, they don’t remember making it. Can you imagine how scary that is to folks who want to discuss all the options and alternatives to most problems and issues?

“Either/or” is usual a false alternative that we must force ourselves to question even though we’re not yet able to see past the illusion.

–Malcolm

Malcolm R. Campbell is the author of the comedy/satire “Special Investigative Reporter.”

Thoughts on getting older

On By Malcolm R. CampbellIn Life6 Comments

If you came here today expecting wisdom or anything approaching sage advice, you’re screwed.

For one thing, I don’t think you came here for that reason because, as we were saying during the Vietnam War, you can’t trust anyone over 30. Today, our youth culture still maintains this truth, adding to it the idea that it’s completely unnecessary to know anything about what happened over 30 years ago.

oldclipartI’m amused by people half my age who explain things to me that I knew before they were born. I think my parents were amused by this when I told them stuff I learned in college. Some of what I told them they experienced first hand–like World War I and the depression.

For those of you under 30, World War I happened before World War II, though with today’s math instruction in the schools, that probably doesn’t make sense. And, the depression wasn’t the kind one tried to escape with Valium or Xanax.

Quite possibly, I have a long list of things about which I can say, “been there, done that, got the tee shirt.” Unfortunately, more and more people haven’t heard of any of those things even if they do have the tee shirts.

One of those things is walking or riding my bike to school. That doesn’t seem to be done anymore. In fact, it appears to be borderline illegal. I’m reading this novel right now in which a single mother wonders how so many parents can attend–by her calculation–some 30+ hours a week of school related activities: plays, talent shows, recitals, togetherness sessions all of which occur during working hours. If you don’t show up, the parents that do show up pity you and think you’re rearing* your children wrong. They think that, too, if they see your kid riding or walking to school.

I work at home as a quasi retired, borderline crazy writer. That means I can log on to Facebook and Twitter any time I want. When I’m there, one thought is this: what the hell are all these other people doing out here during working hours? I know, I know, since corporations and other employers are borderline criminal, it’s okay to steal time from them by texting and looking at Facebook. Or, maybe their employers think it’s okay and have hired extra staff to cover the time when the current staff is online. That sounds like something that would happen in France.

I guess it comes down to this, my thoughts on getting older probably sound like the same kinds of thoughts by parents and grandparents had when they were getting older, and that boils down to you kids have it easy, hell, my generation had to claw its 20 miles  to school on snowshoes. Most of you didn’t know my parents and grandparents, so maybe this snow information is something new.

See what I mean? You’re screwed (figuratively speaking, hopefully) for reading this post.

—Malcolm

* One way you can tell I’m over 30 is that I say “rearing kids” instead of “raising kids.” In the old days, “raising” referred only to pets and/or pigs. And jackasses, too, I would think.

 

Wow, almost 100,000 views for this blog

On By Malcolm R. CampbellIn Life4 Comments

roundtablelogo

Aw shucks, folks, thanks for all the visits and for putting up with the fact I haven’t felt the need to place this blog squarely in one niche or another.

  • The all-time favorite post is: The Bare-bones structure of a fairy tale. Even though that post is a little over two years old, it still out performs every new post from week to week. I have no idea why, but at over 7,000 views, it’s well ahead of the rest of my 1,065 of posts since 2007.
  • The second most popular post is: Heave Out and Trice Up. This, I understand. A lot of people search for the meanings of navy jargon and slang, most especially what “heave out and trice up” actually means. This post was written in 2010 and still gets hits every week.

I’ve done a lot of reviews on this site, a few author interviews from time to time and talked about writing (including my own). Those posts are in the majority. However, when north Florida’s notorious Dozier School was in the news, my 2012 post about the White House Boys got a lot of hits. So did my 2013 (and frequently updated) post about the fate of the aircraft carrier USS Ranger that was scrapped rather than turned into a museum.

Since my books are mostly set in Montana’s Glacier National Park and the Florida Panhandle, I’ve written posts about my stories’ settings. Those get more hits over time than they do on the day they appear. I’m glad you find them whenever you find them.

I’ve appreciated your comments over the years as well. One never knows what people will say. I do know it takes time for you to write them.

Want a chance at a free Kindle Fire?

For those of you who’ve enjoyed reading my books and short stories, I want to mention that my publisher is starting a newsletter. I hope you’ll sign up. It’s free. Better yet, one subscriber will receive a free Kindle Fire Tablet. Deadline is 16 days from now. Click here to subscribe and enter the random drawing for the Kindle.

As for heaving and tricing

Now, for those of you who are curious about heave out and trice up, it has nothing to do with throwing up while seasick or drunk. I don’t know if navy ships still use the phrase as a wake-up call over the ship’s public address system. It means get up and raise your bunk (rack) or hammock up away from the floor (deck) so that the compartment cleaners can sweep out your berthing (sleeping, not having babies) area.

–Malcolm

Malcolm R. Campbell writes magical realism, contemporary fantasy and paranormal novels and short stories.

 

 

 

 

Taking time out for breakfast at Wimbledon

On By Malcolm R. CampbellIn Life

“Deprived of a record-tying 22nd grand slam title in the Australian Open and French Open finals this year, Williams got to No. 22 Saturday by defeating Angelique Kerber 7-5 6-3 in a high-quality Wimbledon final.” – CNN in Serena Williams wins Wimbledon for historic 22nd grand slam title

Yes, I watch FSU football and. depending on the teams, selected games from the World Series. Otherwise, I’m more interested in tennis. Not because I’m any good at it. It’s fun to watch. Recently, I wrote a post about aging authors who are still writing, saying that that gave the rest of us hope. Watching Serena and Venus Williams, at 34 and 36 years of age, playing in a game that requires a lot of stamina and athleticism and favors youth, makes me feel amazed at what people can do who keep in shape and spend many hours a day practicing.

Wikipedia photo
Wikipedia photo

I’ve watched three of Serena William’s Wimbledon matches this week and, while balls hit into the net or just outside the line tempt me to yell at the television set, taking time out for breakfast at Wimbledon serves as a good antidote to my driven approach to my writing. I felt driven earlier this week to work through a hard-to-write section of my work in progress and also to post a blog here about 85-year-old author Edna O’Brien’s stunning new novel The Little Red Chairs (which I’m currently reading).

Time off for tennis has been a better use of my time because–had I asked one–it’s probably just what a psychologist would recommend. Both players in today’s Wimbledon final showed moments of frustration; Kerber rushed her game (and displayed brief moments of panic) on some points and that might have been one reason she didn’t beat Williams this time out. Frustration and panic are bad for a writer, for all of us. Goodness knows, the news this week hasn’t helped.

Time off might look like goofing off, but it’s controlled goofing off that takes one away from a constant focus on work and/or the news rather than turning into a 24/7 habit. Now I can look toward the afternoon feeling like I drank some magic tonic.

–Malcolm

Malcolm R. Campbell is the author of “Emily’s Stories,” “Sarabande,” “At Sea,” and “Conjure Woman’s Cat,” all of which you can learn more about on his website here.

Now is the time for your tears

On By Malcolm R. CampbellIn Life2 Comments

Stared at the person who killed for no reason
Who just happened to be feelin’ that way without warnin’
And he spoke through his cloak, most deep and distinguished
And handed out strongly, for penalty and repentance
William Zanzinger with a six-month sentence.

The judge in Bob Dylan’s “The Lonesome Death of Hattie Carroll”

Those of us who listened to Bob Dylan’s songs in the 1960s knew that Hattie Carroll was a real person who was killed by a man who was drunk and who said he had no memory of the crime. The song, typical Dylan, certainly expressed how many of us felt about the light sentence.

stanfordI can’t help but think of this song when I think of  the absurd, six month sentence handed down to Brock Turner for his rape of an unconscious woman in the Stanford University case. There is outrage over this: as there should be. Turner’s father has added to the outrage by calling the rape “20 minutes of action.” The victim, whose name I hope we never know, released a powerful statement that no words of mine can possibly enhance.

Updated 6/9: NBC news reported today that Turner will leave jail three months early due to good behavior.

At the end of Dylan’s song, he sings, “now is the time for your tears.” In terms of Brock Turner, we are past tears into outrage. The tears, though, are for the victim whose life will be forever changed no matter how she works past the terror, shame and scars. I don’t know where the judge’s brains were at when the sentence was concocted, but they appear to have been sitting in the same commode with the prevailing notion that rape is the fault of the victim rather than a brutal crime that’s the fault of the rapist.

This sentence was just as sexist as the Hattie Carroll sentence was racist.

–Malcolm

as usual, it only hurts when I laugh

On By Malcolm R. CampbellIn Life7 Comments

Seriously, do we really need so much hospital paperwork? Every few minutes or so, somebody handed my a form to sign. What’s this one for? This one is your acknowledgement that you have seen all 5,000 forms so far.

redmondOkay, now what’s this one for? This one, which as you can see is being handed to you in the middle of your surgery, is your acknowledgement that the anesthesia is doing a damn good job so far.

You gotta laugh. But if you do, it hurts.

Praise the Lord for narcotics.

The surgery was scheduled for Monday morning. Since the anesthesia was high quality, late Monday afternoon I was able to sit in a chair and eat supper. The nurse threatened me with the news that if I couldn’t climb out of bed, I wasn’t going to eat.

Don’t make me laugh.

Then she told me that I would be walking down the hall three times a day. I only walked down the hall twice because things were going so well, they gave me some more paperwork and sent me home where I promptly took a pain pill and got into bed.

The surgery went very well. The cancerous tumor was removed from my left kidney without messing up the kidney, or anything else, for that matter. The scar is probably larger than the kidney, held together with bailing wire and duct tape. It’s no laughing matter, and I’ve signed paperwork that says I’m going to keep it that way.

I do appreciate all of you who asked me–actually, my wife and/or my Facebook page–how I’m doing. That depends when you ask. If you ask 23.5 minutes after the latest pain pill, I’m doing pretty good. If more time has gone by since the latest pain pill, I staying away from anything that might remotely be funny.

Now, I think it’s time for another nap. Fortunately, I don’t laugh while dreaming.

–Malcolm

 

A huggable kidney for my upcoming surgery

On By Malcolm R. CampbellIn Life6 Comments

kidneySince I don’t know anything about huggable stuff, it never occurred to me there would be a huggable kidney out there “when urine love.” One of these showed up as a surprise package from my daughter, her husband and my granddaughters today to help me prepare for and get through next monday’s kidney surgery.

Much appreciated because it will come in handy whenever the pain meds start wearing off.

However, since I think the hospital might mix this up with one of my real kidneys, I’m saving this for home use only. Not sure that my calico cat will allow this in the bed, but we’ll see.

So far, my research has shown that real kidneys don’t have eyes, feet, and stuff, but we’ll let that slide.

This is going to come in handy.

–Malcolm

 

Will Ferrell, you have stepped out of bounds from comedy to cruel

On By Malcolm R. CampbellIn Life2 Comments

ferrell“The family of Ronald Reagan has slammed Will Ferrell for signing on to star in and produce a comedy about the president’s agonizing battle with Alzheimer’s.” – New York Post

“Penned by Mike Rosolio, the story begins at the start of the then-president’s second term when he falls into dementia and an ambitious intern is tasked with convincing the commander-in-chief that he is an actor playing the president in a movie.” – Variety

“I saw the news bulletin — as did everyone — that you intend to portray my father in the throes of Alzheimer’s for a comedy that you are also producing. Perhaps you have managed to retain some ignorance about Alzheimer’s and other versions of dementia. Perhaps if you knew more, you would not find the subject humorous.” – Patti Davis, in Open Letter to Will Ferrell

Hollywood is famous for taking oafs, clowns and unintelligent people and poking fun at them. Perhaps we laugh our gallows humor laughs, thinking “there by the grace of God go I.” But dementia? That’s out of bounds.

Will Ferrell’s movie may never be made, some say, due to the firestorm of protest the concept has already created. Let’s hope the soothsayers are right: Alzheimer’s is not comedy and to make it so for a movie, especially one about a real person, is without any redeeming value whatsoever. What’s next, Mr. Ferrell? The hi-jinks of a cancer ward or accident victims dying in the E. R. on a Saturday night?

In her open letter, Davis writes, “Alzheimer’s is the ultimate pirate, pillaging a person’s life and leaving an empty landscape behind.” Mr Ferrell, what do you find funny about this?

I hope you’re better than this, Will Ferrell, but I’m beginning to have my doubts.

–Malcolm

UPDATE: (April 29, 2016) Will Ferrell Walks Away From Controversial Reagan Project