Posts Tagged ‘Nebraska’

Dream a Little Dream

A while back, the blower on my old van wore out. I’m one of those old guys that don’t like to spend money unless he has to. I just let it go, as I really didn’t need it replaced at the time. However, winter is coming on out here in Nebraska, where one will often go outside to find a quarter-inch of ice on their windshield during the winter months. There is a need to have hot air blowing on ones windshield out here during winter, and, subsequently, and operating blower.

I’m not going to put a new blower in a twenty-one year old van. There’s a junk yard out here in a little town called Utica which seems to have just about any spare part for any vehicle a person would drive. Utica is about 25 miles West, and another 10 miles or so North of where I sit. So, off I went to secure myself another blower for the van.

The most efficient way to get to Utica from where I live is to get up on the interstate, and exit at another little town called Gohner. Gohner has all of 192 people living in it. Nebraska tends to be pock-marked with micro townships all over the place. Anyhow, one needs to get off at Gohner, drive a few more miles North, then West again several miles till one makes it to Utica.

I hadn’t been out that way for three, or four years, so I was really enjoying the view. Where I live, the land sort of roles in long, lumbering hills that one often can’t even tell they’re going up unless they’re on a bicycle. Out there toward Gohner, and Utica, the land gets flat as a pancake, and one can see trees balancing all the way out on the edge of the horizon.

I’m driving along, taking in the landscape, when the Gohner exit comes up on me, and I need to get off the interstate, and get on a regular state road. Just off the interstate, on the outskirts of the little town of Gohner, someone had constructed a frontier village. The village wasn’t very accurate historically for the area, as the buildings were made of logs, and not sod. I’m guessing sod is pretty hard to come by these days, so logs must have had to suffice. Anyhow, there was a livery stable, a saloon, a general store, all set up for tourist to stop in and recreate, including what appeared to be a frontierish looking playground for the kids.

Sadly, the project must not have worked out for the projector. Leaning up against the fence lining the frontier village was a large piece of plywood. Painted neatly in large letters on that piece of plywood leaning up against that fence were the words, ‘A dream died here.’

Seeing this sign didn’t ruin the rest of my jaunt, but it did make me feel sorry for whatever entities put this project together. There is something I may never have the opportunity to tell them, but I am going to take this opportunity to tell you. Dreams don’t die, they get abandoned. They may run into all kinds of problems, and setbacks, and oppositions, but they do not die. They get abandoned along the side of the interstate like a dog your landlord tells you you’re not allowed to have in the apartment.

Dreams don’t die. They are composed of thought energy, and sort of bounce around the Cosmos like radio waves. Leonardo da Vinci dreamt of a flying machine, but it didn’t come into fruition till a couple of hundred years later … others along the way picked up on the dream, and did what they could with it. Thomas Edison dreamt of illuminating the night, and he picked at it till it happened.

The idea that dreams die is defeatist. If you have a dream you can’t get put together, someone else will pick it up, and run with it. Go get another dream, and see how far you can take it.

You’re spectacular, dynamic. Stay that way. Get a dream, and work it.


The Vista

My older sister Alisa died very recently. She is, and always has been one of my most favorite of people. Her sudden and unexpected death left me very sad. Like most people, I’ve had a lot of sadness in my life. Unfortunately, I do not deal with sadness well. However, I have developed a technique for dealing with sadness. I let The Observer take the helm, while the I that is me goes below decks to be distraught and hapless.

A few days later I was driving home from work in the late afternoon. The Observer said to the I that is me, ‘Come on up here and look at this!’ So, the I that is me moped up and peered out the window of my eyes. The Observer said to the I that is me, ‘Now! That’s pretty, isn’t it.’ And, it was. Broadly, for miles and miles in front was the dark green Nebraska countryside capped by a pale blue sky which, its self, was layered with delicate formations of fluffy white clouds. ‘Yes it is.’ the I that is me responded, ”Lisa is seeing this.’

When I heard what the I that is me had said, it made me step back and think for a moment. The I that is me didn’t say, ”Lisa should see this.’ The I that is me said ”Lisa is seeing this.’ It actually gave me a great deal of comfort.

My belief system dictates that life is a union of the material with the corporeal; specifically, matter, energy, time, and space with consciousness. When the two are no longer able to sustain one another each member of the team returns to its respective domain, no longer encumbered by each other.

I can travel to Alisas grave site, and see where her body is buried. It may be that she can travel to me, and enjoy the material World through my eyes. She has now fully rejoined with what those like me would call The Observer, others The Source, others still might call God.

In any event, this is yet another reason we should choose to be happy, positive, and find the beauty in all things. You may have your own Alisa wanting to catch a glimpse at a broad and beautiful horizon. She may not be inclined to come to your house when you’re in a foul mood, when you are seeing things as dank and despicable.

You are spectacular.

Application is Power

There is a buzz word that’s been floating around, particularly since the proliferation of the internet.  It goes like this, “Information is power.”  You have to know where the light switch is at before you can illuminate the room.

I was listening to a recorded speech the other day.  Les Brown was the speaker.  Mr. Brown has a way of fine tuning conceptual catch phrases.  Mr. Brown said, “Information is a good thing to have, but application is power.”  You have to know where the light switch is at, but flipping the switch illuminates the room.

Like so many other people around the World I now have immediate access to vast amounts of information.  For the price of a half descent used car I have a device sitting on my desk.  This device takes up the space of 4 to 10 text books.  Within that little space is a volume of information that makes my old home town library back in Sistersville, WV pale by comparison.

A while back I had a couple of fellows come over to my house.  They drilled a hole in the side of my house and pushed through it a cord running down from the old telephone pole on the corner.  They tied that cord up to the device sitting on my desk.  Now, for the price of going out to lunch three or four times in a month, I not only have access to the Library of Congress at the click of a button, but the insights and knowledge of several million people across the Globe.

If some poor old philosopher living close to the life of a hermit in a ramshackle trailer out on the Nebraskan prairie can do these things, just about anyone could.  Just about everyone does in this day and age.  If information alone were power then the information power curve has changed dramatically.  My personal observation is that application has been the key factor to the realization of influence, prosperity, health and happiness all along.

Till next time, learn something, and apply the knowledge wisely, because you are spectacular.