It's my life...

"It's my life, and I can do whatever I want!"

That was the protest that came out of my teenager's mouth as we were arguing about schoolwork, or chores or something.

I can recall the words that came from my mouth, but not from my brain.

"No, it's not your life."

Those words came out several notches of volume lower that the preceding conversation. They were not my words. They came from somewhere else.

....

Yesterday I was offered a job. It sounds like a good job. It would give me an opportunity to grow professionally. It would give me the opportunity to expand my horizons intellectually. It would give me the opportunity to expand my personal and professional network quite substantially. And it offers a bit more money and an equity stake in the company. Even better, I did not even have to apply for it; they called me out of the blue.

But...

....

This morning I took the boys to church, figuring a little talk about the meaning of life might be beneficial to my rebellious teenager. But, as is so often the case, there was an important message for me. 

The sermon this morning was about temptation, the temptation of the ego. And accepting a shortcut to your goals or your vision will leave you short of your goal and without integrity.

....

The combination of these events created a realization in me. The realization that the words I uttered, those words that were not mine, are a divine or natural truth. They are The Law. We exist to serve others. Those may be our friends or our family. Others may be co-workers, clients, colleagues. They may be complete strangers, the homeless we encounter on our community's streets, or the dignitary in a motorcade. Every act we commit not only impacts us, it impacts everyone in contact with us. Or, like the Butterfly Theory suggests, our actions have an impact well beyond our immediate environment. 

I turned down the job. It was a shortcut, and one I did not want to experience the results of taking.

Rejecting a Guilt Offering

There are basically three types of gifts. There are gifts of gratitude, gifts of recompense and gifts of guilt. In Biblical terms these gifts are given to God under the names of the the Fellowship Offering, the Sin Offering, and the Guilt or Trespass Offering.
(There is another transaction that is often confused with gift giving: when a gift is given with an expectation of receiving a gift. This is NOT a gift. This kind of exchange is more aptly defined as commerce.)
The Fellowship Offering is one that flows from the love and appreciation we have for each other. The Sin Offering is one that is given to right a wrong, an apology. The Guilt Offering is made as a substitute for that which really needs to be exchanged. God blessed us with gift giving. Perhaps He knew that gift giving would be a way to create community, not just with Him, but with each other also.
Human civilization has always appreciated the importance of the gift. Gifts are the things that bind us together, deepening our relationships with each other and with our community. I've been reading the book Sacred Economics: Money, Gift, and Society in the Age of Transition. The first chapter speaks of the importance of gifts in human society. Read it. You might learn a thing or two.

In the past week I have received two gifts. One was a gift of gratitude, one was a guilt offering. I know this was the case because in each case the giver of the gift told me so. The gift of gratitude I have accepted joyfully though the item is of little value to me. But the guilt offering I have rejected, even though it is a thing I value highly.
I do not know the effect my rejection of the guilt offering will have, if any. But I do know the effect it had on the Nation of Israel: generations of bondage under a foreign power, and a way of life foreign to the life God intended for His children.
How do you give gifts?

The Sins of our Fathers

Let's say you develop a solution to a problem. The problem is one that will cause great harm, and the solution is one that will take years to fully implement. Also assume that there is a very good chance that the solution will never be fully implemented.

Here's the question: Do you even bother to implement the solution?

I recently had a conversation with someone close to me who worked in a lab that tested organic food products for contamination. They tested for everything from e.coli to chemical pesticides, fungicides and herbicides. (This lab is run by the government, with direct and indirect funding from the Agri-chemical industry) Apparently, the organically grown foods are routinely found to have significant chemical residues. The conclusion from this person was that food products labeled "organic" is little more than a marketing ploy.

Perhaps you saw the news, High arsenic levels found in organic foods, baby formula. The products in question had one ingredient in common, organic brown rice. According to the news report,

In fact, rice takes up arsenic from the soil, Jackson explained. As it turns out arsenic looks very much like silica to the rice plant and “rice takes up silica to help it stand up in water logged soils.”

Different varieties of rice take up different amounts of arsenic, Jackson said. Brown rice tends to have particularly high levels of arsenic.

While arsenic can occur naturally, the levels found in these organic foods was much higher than typically occurs in nature. So where did the arsenic come from?

The Washington State University Cooperative Extension Service described how high levels of arsenic got into our soils in an advisory for home gardeners:

Lead arsenate was a popular insecticide during the first half of the 20th century because of its low toxicity to plants and great effectiveness for controlling insect pests. The most common use was for control of codling moth in commercial apple orchards. Ranchers also used large quantities for grasshopper control baits. Smaller but still substantial amounts were used on deciduous tree fruits other than apple, in home gardens and orchards, for mosquito control, and on lawns and golf greens. Applicators used other arsenic-based pesticides for agricultural crops, turfgrass, gardens, and rights-of-way. 

Repeated applications of lead arsenate over time caused lead and arsenic to accumulate in soil.

Some organic farming standards can require farms to practice sustainable methods for several years before becoming certified. Apparently, even that is not enough to insure that all chemical residue has decomposed in the soil. Researchers at Washington State University have admitted that an arsenic based chemical applied 50+ years ago can still bioaccumulate in soil. 

The promise of organic farming is that it can cure the land by replacing long-depleted minerals and by detoxifying the soil. No one can expect that process to happen overnight. And as we see with arsenic, this process can take decades.

So that brings me back to the original implication that organic food production is little more than a marketing ploy. 

It took humanity decades to poison our farmlands, it will take decades to detoxify that land. The marketing ploy seems to be one where organic foods are continually discredited by a media supported by corporate agribusiness.

As the Good Book warns us:

Keeping mercy for thousands, forgiving iniquity and transgression and sin, and that will by no means clear the guilty; visiting the iniquity of the fathers upon the children, and upon the children's children, unto the third and to the fourth generation. - Exodus 34:7

Zen in a flood

There is a flood going on in Pakistan right now. That flood is one of the worst that nation has experienced in years. Images from this once-in-a-lifetime flood are plastered across the Internet. Many of those images reveal the dire situation the people of Pakistan face. From people gathering at food distribution vans, children crying, young men saving what food they can from their small farms, women holding onto their children with fear in their eyes. But there is one image from which I find inspiration.

This man, carrying two children. I see no sense of despair in the contours of his face. I can't discern a single ounce of helplessness in his eyes. What I see is a certain sense of determination. Not determination to overcome insurmountable odds, but determination that the events surrounding him will have no effect on his psyche. He is just doing what he must do and he has the confidence to complete his task.


I am reminded of a Zen proverb: "After enlightenment, the laundry."

Money for Nothing

I received some mail from YAHOO! today. This is what I received:

Your eyes do not deceive you. This is a check that I received via U.S. Postal Service from YAHOO! for the sum of ZERO dollars and ZERO cents.

Can someone please explain how this happens?



I'm just gonna guess that this check in the amount of ZERO dollars and ZERO cents cost YAHOO! about 50 cents to process and mail to me.

No, not that 50 Cent.

I knew YAHOO! was losing its Internet battle with Google and Microsoft and Apple, but now I have an inkling as to why. Time to sell my YAHOO! stock!

[P.S. Did you catch the irony in that last YAHOO! link?]

The Ant Wars: Mercenary Campaign, Part 2

The brave knight I hired to vanquish our household enemy, the piss ant, had to be recalled. He had come out and performed nobly in his attempt to dissuade the invading hordes from entering our home. For a full week, my enemy was held at bay. On about d-day +8 the enemy had again breached our defenses, so I recalled our mercenary.

He returned, aerosolized d-limonene in hand. After a short debriefing of the operational status, he went on a mission to inspect the perimeter of our fortress to seek out the source of the breeches. Returning to the command center to report, his furrowed brow belied his distress. His search for the source of the breech had been unsuccessful.

So we decided another inspection was in order, but this time I joined our warrior as a guide. Soon we discovered a massive enemy supply line. We then followed this superhighway of formicidae out into the back yard. The supply line stretched well over 70 feet to the perimeter and then branched out to several parts of our home, but mostly in the kitchen.

A massive nest was discovered in our back yard. Together we disrupted the nest, poisoned the supply routes with orange oil, and then sprinkled a bait all around the well-camouflaged colony.

Within an hour, the ant invasion had abated. Today, several weeks later, the ants have yet to return.

Now that the natural balance has again been disturbed, I patiently and watchfully wait to discover where the next enemy will appear.

The Ant Wars: Mercenary Campaign. Part 1

Perhaps I was feeling a bit arrogant, as last spring's campaign ended with a touch of success. However, toward the end of the battle, I wondered if by reducing one species of ant I was not inviting another, more pernicious species. As is turns out, I may have been on to something.

I have not journaled my war against the ants this spring. I've not had time to record the events of this never-ending war because, quite frankly, the avenging hordes of ants have overwhelmed my defenses. They were in the kitchen, the bathroom, the laundry room, the living room, the boys' rooms, my office, and even the fireplace. The only sanctuary we had was the master bedroom. I used all the same tactics that I used last spring: baiting with Spinosad, baiting with boric acid laced honey, DE, DE laced with boric acid, and even scalding water. But nothing I did slowed the invaders.

So, I called for reinforcements. After a little research on the Internet, I found the perfect mercenary force to call on for aid. This pest control company agreed to the original Rules of Engagement. The legionnaire that came to my aid was a lethal combination of hunter and warrior. He crawled around the house armed with a flashlight and a can of aerosolized orange oil. Looking in every nook and cranny on the inside, overturning every rock and stone along the outside, he hammered about fifteen colonies of sugar ants around the perimeter of the home, and laid bait and set physical barriers for all the ants still finding their way into the home.

For one week, we were largely free of ants. Last week, I called him back out.