He Who Talks Too Much

The talking heads of sports crack me up. The next time you're watching a ballgame on television pay close attention to the commentary, and you'll see a good example of what happens when you talk too much. Silence is a big "no no" so I guess they have to say something even when it's wrong. Nine times out of ten whatever they say now is totally different from what they said a moment ago. I really hadn't paid much attention to it until lately - it all began when a commentator covering golf mentioned a player who loved to putt "right to left". It he's right handed he always putts right to left...right? Now we listen carefully to what they say and it makes a sporting event double as a comedy.

So, the mullination lesson has something to do with talking because you must versus having something to say. More often than not if you just keep quiet others will never know how much you don't know and you'll appear all the wiser. It really makes perfect sense, and what's the problem with silence anyway? Mull on it a while and you'll see what I mean.

He Who Has More

There once was a man who had acquired great wealth and with this wealth he developed a beautiful piece of property. He had a lake, a nice home, a guest house, and a paved drive with beautiful trees and a white picket fence. It was something to behold, and all who visited were highly impressed with what he owned. It was a joy to live there and especially delightful to sit on the porch and enjoy the view or walk down to the lake and fish for a while. Yet, it was rare that he had such time to enjoy what he had purchased.

On the other side of town there was another man who had worked hard all his life, yet success seemed to come in very small pieces for him. Though he had little money he managed to build a small one room cabin on a small lake back in the woods. He made a road leading back to the lake with an old bulldozer, and after a rain he used his old 4-wheel drive to get there. His friends who visited kidded and joked about the old tin, and mostly old material used for his cabin. It was 'neat' not necessarily 'nice'. Nevertheless, it was a joy to live there and especially delightful to sit on the porch and enjoy the view or walk down to the lake and fish for a while. He spent days with long afternoons enjoying it all, and he fished so much he knew every little nook and cranny of that lake. As he sat on his porch during these long afternoons he often marveled that he could have so much. He was thankful that he worked so hard over the years to save and build with his own two hands such a fine place.

Question: Who really has more? Mull on it a while.

In the Eye of the Beholder

"Beauty" is neat thought. It exists in every place, and within every person in some form or fashion. All you have to do is look for it, notice it, and appreciate it. The sunrise has this remarkable beauty whether you're on the farm, in the big city, or at the beach. It doesn't matter where you are it has this majestic, slow, steady, explosion of color, light, and hope.

"Beauty" is in the eye of the beholder because only the one who beholds gets to see it. If you sleep past the sunrise you miss out, but if you get up and look you witness the beauty of a new day. If you pass that person by, or focus only on what is not attractive you miss out on a beautiful thing. Sadly most people spend their time on what is not beautiful in others. Whether its their spouse, neighbor, child, or boss - its always what's wrong with them instead of what right. What a shame to miss the beauty. Maybe we tend to do that because we doubt our own beauty deep down inside. There's an old saying, "there's good in everybody" - That is true...even in you (rhyme point!).

So, beauty only exists if it is beheld by someone. In other words if you fail to behold it you cheat beauty itself and beauty doesn't rest on those who refuse to behold it. Get it? Mull on it and you will. Here is a clue - You always become like what you behold.

The Dawning

The dawn is such an interesting time of the day. This morning its cool, damp, foggy and surrounded with shapes and shadows that will emerge as bushes, trees, and creatures as morning arrives. You can see these shapes emerging yet you're not sure what they are, and the imagination seizes the opportunity and transforms them into all kinds of things. You imagine a deer, a bear, lions, and even big foot himself eases along through the fog of early dawn. Eventually day breaks and all those creatures are slowly revealed as bushes and tall weeds moving with the wind.

Life has its moments of dawn just like each morning. Times when you struggle to make sense of it all, and the imagination runs wild being energized mostly by fear. Eventually the dawning happens and we begin to make sense of all the shapes and shadows of life. I guess the good news is that morning always follows the dawn, and usually the darkest and coldest times of the day are at dawn. So, when things seems really bad or uncomfortable take heart because morning is coming and all our surroundings will be revealed for what they truly are. Mull on it, and you'll see what I mean.

Turning over a new leaf?

Ever think about a leaf? It begins in the spring with excited growth, stretching out more and more. It waves in the wind high above the ground and immediately gets to work processing all that stuff from the sun that makes the rest of the tree grow. That leaf probably feels pretty good waving in the wind doing its work, and basking in the sun. But then things begin to change just a little each day. The sun doesn't stay out that long anymore and the leaf begins to feel old and change color. To top it off something from beneath seems to be pushing him closer and closer to the edge. Now there's this fear of being so high up rather than fun in the sun. He probably thinks, "I don't want to fall from way up here!" But no matter how much he fights it he is pushed closer and closer to the edge until finally one day it happens - He is ousted, but the fall isn't so bad, in fact its really more like a drift than a fall. He discovers the ground, and its soft from all those other leaves that fell through the years. Eventually he just crumbles into small pieces, smaller and smaller until finally he's small enough to seep down in the ground and get in those roots and make his way to the top again - this time he's so much higher than before.

Strange is the life of a leaf, and surely there's some lesson in there if we just mull on it long enough. Maybe there's no such thing as a new leaf after all - the past simply provides the fuel we need to grow to greater and greater heights. Can you imagine what it would be like if a leaf just kept on growing for the life of a tree? Leaves would be so big the tree couldn't stand up I guess.

give it some thought.