Remember the saying “Milk, it does a body good?” Well, come to find out that milk is what we should NOT drink. Based on a Swedish study: “For each daily glass of milk you drink, your risk of death rises by 15%. Researchers found that women who downed three or more glasses of milk per day were nearly twice as likely to die over the next two decades. Swedish researchers found drinking more than one glass of milk per day may double your risk of ovarian cancer, while a Harvard study found men who consumed more than two daily dairy servings had a 34% increased risk of developing prostate cancer compared to those who consumed little or no dairy”. (Link to article) !!! All my life I have lived by the following: If you need to take a pill or some such thing to cure disorders in the body due to something you consumed, then you should NOT be consuming that food. Your body tells you everything. I never believed nor consumed dairy (milk is for baby cows), and my bones are strong, I’m 45 and have had only 2 cavities. I call this brief post a venting because I am tired of the public believing all the hype and nutritional “truths”. Again, your body tells you … if you listen. Heartburn? Figure out what’s causing it, don’t take an F’n pill so you can choke down that greasy crap. Pills, pills, pills … we are torturing our bodies. And on and on and on … Society is becoming dependent on a phantom intelligence that swirls around the informational highway, when it is really just a boardroom of ignorance bent on making more of that green stuff so they can buy bigger houses. The list of lies we are told is too vast to include in this post, so I will close this venting by saying: Look inside yourself to cure all that ails you (whether nutritional, medicinal or spiritual), and always steer towards natural cures first. Your body/mind is your machine, you are in charge of it … you can change it … and find the truth within it. Thank you for listening.
A few of my friends on here have health and beauty style blogs. Well, I thought that maybe I’d post this for some friends of mine from right here in Oregon. It’s a great little company that is all organic skin and hair products. What? A male posting this stuff! Yepper. Go ahead, snicker, for I am secure :). The body is a temple, dontcha know. And they have super awesome, natural products for the hair (and beard! my preference). Anyhoo, these girls are doin’ a good thing. Check em out, you won’t be disappointed.
I recently meditated to the point of revelation by asking a simple question: what’s the point? See, it all started when I read yet another novel, and, as always, had to endure the typical roller coaster of plot, which inevitably contained tension (isn’t that the recipe required?), death, sadness, and so on. Then, after thinking about societal influence, and what the prerequisites are to this term called “success” in the modern literary field, I came to realize that I will never be a successful novelist for the simple reason that I do not enjoy the ingredients required: tension, sadness, and the negative emotions that are involved in “good” storytelling. After a lifetime of reading (thousands of novels) and writing, my eyes opened. Look at our world filled with entertainment that pushes us to think about, and sometimes dwell upon, the negative aspects, whether we read it in books, see it on a TV screen, or be bombarded by the commercials which lead us to believe that we are all broken and riddled with disease: this is all a recipe for melancholy and hypochondria … which the world seems to be addicted to while scratching their proverbial heads, wondering why depression is spreading like a disease (but they have a pill for that! $$$ Eureka! $$$ So get back on the ride until you vomit, because that’s life, you see $$$ Side effects are….) Well, I’m jumping off that wheel, baby, and getting on a couple of different ones. Why would I want to spend hours upon hours before a keyboard, neck-deep in the sorrows of life, just for a chance to tell a story and possibly make a bit of money? No. I will no longer make that sacrifice, for there is peace in this world that I intend to explore. Pleasure. Yepper. The nonfiction type. That’s my game. See, there are always choices in life. I could sit down and rack the brain before a keyboard, I could gel on the TV and try to avoid the fear mongers and pandering … or I could fire up the Softail … head on through the forest … down the coast … stop at a diner for an oh-so-unhealthy (ah shuddup) cheeseburger, fries and a killer shake. Then kick back on the bike to let a shimmering raspberry sunset on the waves to infinity soak into my smiling eyes. Hmm, yep. And then there is the choice of a couple hours writing, or a couple hours of sensual pleasure with a deeeelicious, curvy partner. “Mmmmm, yes, pu-please,” she says with that perpetually satiated glint in her love-clouded eyes. Pleasure. That’s where life is at. Whether I be rolling my rumbling bike through a sunwashed day, or rambling through a rainstorm catching droplets on my smile, or lounged back with fragrant loveliness by my side … I shall enjoy this time here. However, writing is in my blood, so eventually I will finish Forever Meaghan, and I will crack a journal to document days on this journey, maybe jot down some poetry now and again, so you might see some of that splashed on this page occasionally. Till then, take it easy … and enjoy. I hear the campfire cracklin’ my name ….
There is something amiss with the human race when money takes precedence over proper health care. Those who cannot afford health insurance do what they can to avoid the clinics; to avoid those disdainful looks from pretentious wielders of the hippocratic oath, who tend to make the financially strapped feel less than human. The oath is losing its meaning (it requires a new physician to swear, upon a number of healing gods, to uphold specific ethical standards). The oath is only a string of words … as money buries morality. The peasants suffer. Royalty smiles down from the glass towers. Knights give the finest protection to their own class.
I remember who I was as a child. Now I ask myself, Where did he go? Contemplation in silence has occupied the last three meditative days. I sat in the lush forest … amid whispers of wind, and wondered when I went astray. The child was wise with nature. He didn’t ask for answers, only found them while wandering landscapes. This child was not a child, only a young being marveling over the breath of nature, using his innate ability to see art not only in the typical forested settings, but also on everyday streets … where emotions of life can be witnessed on the faces of others; or how light writes a moment of time on a cityscape. See, in my mind then, I was a photographer, while friends were firemen and such boyhood dreams. I had my camera, given to me by an elder man who had answered my question of “What do I do with this?” with an all-knowing, little grin, from which came his reply of “You’ll see, boy. You will see.” Time has revealed the boy in me once again. Therefore, upon realizing that my life of dilettantism is coming into focus, I am content to settle on one, and answer the dreams of the boy no longer dormant inside: I was once a photographer in mind. Now is the time to be one in soul. My life has shifted that I may finesse the fleeting moments of light. My black-and-white purpose beckons to be fulfilled. Everything but study is put aside. Silence has become my friend once again. I will write with my lens, telling a story without my pen. The boy wanted to be an outstanding photographer. I am that boy … now reminded of a quote to live by: “Beautiful things don’t ask for attention.” And now I understand the words of the elder man. Yes, sir. I see. And one day they will see … black-and-white art from the soul of a boy, through the eyes of a man. One day.
“Your ride is super-smooth now, so just kick back and have fun, instead of anxiously watching out for the next big obstacle or slowdown you’re certain is about to hit you if you’re not vigilant. You don’t want to find yourself caught up in a self-fulfilling prophecy, right? Find some way to let go of your stress, even if you have to trick yourself into taking baby steps. Life is too sweet for worry!”