Blame it on the Reptile*

*Not the one from the Garden of Eden. I mean the old brain stem, the Reptilian Brain.

A home buyer noticed construction close by the home he was considering purchasing, and asked his agent what it was.

“I don’t know,’ the agent answered, “a shopping center I think.” (He had heard that one was going in somewhere in the vicinity.)

Later, after buying the house, the client found that it was not a shopping center, but a bottling plant, and he turned the agent over to the Grievance committee, where they faulted the agent.

Here you can worry about casual remarks, plain old conversation, and corporate stupidity.

An elderly man and his wife were about to board a cruise ship. Before boarding they were asked to fill out a form . One of the questions was : ”Have you been sick within the last week?”

The man checked the yes box, then quickly realized his mistake. He had not been sick, so he scratched out the YES box and checked the NO.

Do you think he got to board?

No.

First they had medical personnel come from the ship and take the man’s temperature, then, although his temperature was normal, he was denied boarding.

Whoa,  and we don’t know the planning that went into that vacation, where he traveled from, how much his plane fare cost, or long he had looked forward to it.

Stupidity abounds. Or is it fear?

Are we so afraid of getting something wrong that we have become stupid?

Blame it on the reptile.

You know that old reptilian brain, the primitive brain stem that lies under our higher “Thinking brain?” This reptilian brain controls our vital organs, our heart, our lungs, that is the autonomic system, so we don’t have to think about such things as digesting our food.

It also looks out for our physical well-being. Using this brain we can jump out of the way of a careening bus without thinking about it. We might fight off an attacker, or lift a car off a loved one if need be. The Reptilian brain has our best interests at heart…

HOWEVER, it is always looking for trouble.

It knows nothing of SPIRIT. It knows nothing of the higher working of the brain. It doesn’t know that guidance, intuition or well being exists.

So, if someone wants to get the human animal, or any animal for that matter, into a state of discontent, of confusion or turmoil, go after the reptilian brain. Let it believe it is in danger.

When some animals are faced with danger they run, that’s a prey animal.  If they fail, they get eaten—end of animal. If the human animal, the predator, fails or gets it wrong, they fear being humiliated, or ostracized, or unloved. Being ostracized is so serious that ancient cultures used it as punishment, and often, without their tribe, that ostracized person died. It was essentially a death sentence.

But, if you are a good horse trainer (and it’s all about horse training) you will want the animal to want to be with you. In that case you will provide comfort, safety, food, and fun.

Horse meditation

What if we used that training on the old reptilian brain? Calmed the savage beast so to speak.

There is an old Native American tale: Two dogs were fighting. One Native asked the dog’s owner which dog would win. Replied the owner, “The one I feed.”

Stop Me Before I Buy a Horse Again

Or encourage me depending on where you stand.

Daughter, grandson and I are leaving tonight to attend the Hermiston Horse Auction—the trip is my Christmas present from my Darling Daughter.  We haven’t attended the auction for over 6 years, but now we are back in Oregon, and the Hermiston Horse Extravaganza that happens three times a year, is an event to be taken in.  This time Little Boy Darling will have his first exposure to an auctioneer who sounds like a horse's hooves at dead run.  LBD can take in the chaos of the ring, and see horses of all shapes, sizes and conditions.

We are going just to look.

What if, though, I wonder, I see a horse I can’t resist. We have no place for a horse. I don’t need a horse. Horses are expensive…

But what if I love him?

What if he needs me?

My husband would kill me.

One year at the auction a girl was wearing a tee-shirt with the inscription, “My husband didn’t ask if I bought a horse, he asked, “How many?”

About twelve years ago I bought my horse Velvet at the Hermiston Horse Auction as a six month-old filly-the prettiest little foal on the premises. As she was being led down one of the corridors, she turned her head to look at me—that will get me every time. I said “She looks like Velvet,” and thus I called her, and thus I decided she was my horse.  Having never bid on anything before I was filled with adrenalin, so I would nod to daughter who would then hold up the bidding sign. Someone was bidding against me, but that was MY HORSE. We weren’t very subtle with our bidding…I went over my limit, twice over my limit. The bidding was heavy, and when I won, the arena burst into applause. A cowboy came up to us later and said, “Watching you two buy a horse was more fun than buying one myself.”

Velvet

Another time two Norwegian Fjord horses were placed for sale—a very distinctive horse, cream in color, round in body, and distinguished by a white mane with a black stripe down its center. There were two horses in the sales ring and three cowboys fighting for them like playing musical chairs. One cowboy would pull another off his horse and climb aboard (they are rather short horses) then race around the arena trying not to be caught. One man’s jacket was ripped to shreds. The audience loved it, and I am sure the horses sold for more than they would have without the show. Daughter would have bought one except she felt the price went too high.

I have to stop reminiscing, but I did sell a horse there a couple of times, once for myself—a horse that bucked with Darling Daughter (DD), and another for DD. DD decided perhaps she could make money on horse trading, so she bought a horse in Eugene, a sweet horse named Sweetie whose owner didn’t take care of her feet and she will probably suffer for it the rest of her life. I had my Ferrier tend to her feet, I rode her a couple of times just around the yard and found she was very gentle, then  DD and I hauled her to the auction where she sold to a very nice lady.

 A few months later Sweetie’s owner called DD. “Who was your horse bred to?” she asked. “We just had a baby.”

P.S. That Kickstarter project I placed at the bottom of the page began yesterday and they met their quota in one day. Congratulations Dale.

We have met the enemy...

Cartoonist Walt Kelly's most famous quote.

Have you ever had a thought rattling around in the back of your mind, an idea that is hard to articulate, but it seems to be something you ought to grab a hold of?

That’s happening to me right now. I’ve been reading a book titled Choosing Easy World by Julia Rogers Hamrick. At first the book seemed so simplistic, I pushed it aside. Then it called me back. When Hamrick began talking about “Difficult World,” I perked up.

There appears to be a Difficult Dictator that yammers in our heads, that feeds on difficulty, that tells us we aren’t good enough, we will never make it, others do, of course, but not us, that we are too old, too stupid, too disconnected to be successful in our endeavors.  Why old Difficult Dictator does that I don’t know, he appears to feed on worry, stress, and making things hard. Most of us have had times when can we decide to choose the easy way and this old dictator grabs us by the throat. Some call him the Ego. Why though does the ego want difficulty for us?

It could be conditioning. It could be that working, striving, pushing against have been drummed into us for so long it has penetrated our beings.

Now, this is not to say that a challenge is not rewarding. Think of music, the arts, athletics, solving a mathematical proof, a law proof, when we arise triumphant it is a giant hit. What I am saying is that there is a pervasive difficulty regarding life that is not necessary, is not healthy, and does not support the magnificent beings that we are.

And this is where that rattling thought in the back of my mind comes in. We hear about how the media is conditioning us, about the “Shadow” government, the government behind the government that pulls the strings.  We hear that the “Grays” control us, the “aliens,” are out to get us, and the Illuminati have been lurking in the shadows controlling world affairs for millennia.  And I wondered, could be as Pogo said long ago. We have met the enemy, and it is us?’

Perhaps, it is not “out there.  It is in here.”

I am touching my chest.

A heartfelt thanks to you wonderful people who have followed me. Words cannot express my gratitude...a picture maybe?

Mount of Refuge

Our (used to be) "Green Trail of Bliss" that was our driveway. And there is good ole Bear lying in the middle of it.

On January 1, 2015 Railroad Road, also known as Puua Kapoho Road, where our house sat at the end of the road, was made into a through-a-fare. Well maybe I exaggerate about the through-a-fare, but giant bulldozers have opened that road as an escape route for the people of Pahoa, Hawaii. So our house (now someone else’s) is no longer at the end of the road.

Barry, the caretaker who lived on our property before us, called our place, "The most beautiful spot on earth," and the name given to it by its owner was Pu'u Honoa, meaning  "Mount of Refuge."

Perhaps it will be that for the people who travel Railroad Road.

And now I wonder if while widening Railroad Road the caterpillar crew found our cement cow.

Oh, you don’t know about the cement cow? Guess you will have to read the book. The Island.


P.S.  Hawaii Lava update.

For the past few months lava oozed its way through the jungle, burning a swath aiming for the town of Pahoa. The prediction was that it would go straight through the market place, thus the grocery store, Malala Market, closed, and other stores in that complex closed as well, the tire shop, the hardware store, the propane supply store, Island Crazy, the Urgent Care facility and FED X where we Faxed so many documents we became friends with the beautiful clerk. The Subway Sandwich shop is there, and the bakery where they made the best butter mocha’s in the world.

Scientists predict that if the lava will eventually cross the highway and cut off the route to the rest of the island, Hilo. Kona, Volcano, Black Sand’s Beach, all that and more. The front stalled 550 yards before reaching the market place and has widened out and changed directions threatening they say the Police and Fire Station. 

Hey, what about those other buildings sitting in the path?