Greg Proffit Writing

Category: Daily

  • The Menu

    Today’s selection affects tomorrow’s offerings

    You are born into this world and within a matter of years an invisible but real menu of options is  yours. Your menu is yours and no one else’s, listing things only you can do in your life. Some of the items on your menu are still there. They are still available to you. Other options have disappeared. They are forever off your menu. They may have vanished when you chose one course rather than another, that is, your choice of one thing, negated the other. They may have disappeared because the opportunity window closed.

    When you die, the opportunity window closes forever. I am not trying to depress or frighten you. The best time to have thought of this was fifteen or twenty years ago. The second best time is now. You have fewer items on your menu today than last year on this date. You may have fewer items than last week, or yesterday. The items on the menu shift and disappear. Some of the items on your menu when you were young are as gone as if you were already dead. This is an almost unbearable sadness when you think about it. 

    This is NOT you, but it will be each of us, one day.

    Don’t think too much about what’s gone. If you’re reading this, you still have a menu. But don’t hesitate either. An option available today, could be gone tomorrow. There remains the possibility that you will make a choice today of such import and impact that new items appear. You can create new options for yourself. While some items fade, disappear, and are gone, others will beckon you onwards to a life still to be lived. All the windows aren’t closed yet against the chill of age. What remains on your menu of choices? What will you have today?

  • An Easter Story

    “Why do you seek the Living among the dead?“

    This question is at the heart of the Easter story. Setting aside for now all the technical and theological aspects inherent in the Passion story, the essence boils down to finding and assimilating and celebrating life. Easter focuses the attention on expectation, disappointment, hope, and the kind of certainty that is present in true faith. 

    At the end of this Year Of Death, where now will we find life? Has death overcome it? The disciples came to look for Life in a cemetery, and specifically, in a tomb. They were scolded. They had received enough instruction that they might have known better. But the reality of what they had seen, overcame the reality of what they could not yet see. Being certain of what their eyes and experience told them, they acted as they did. They came to do homage to a dead body.

    It is thankful that their faith wasn’t the cause of God’s acting. Else, Jesus would still be buried behind that stone. Because they had none. No, they had been invited to believe in the Faith that God has in Himself to achieve what He achieves, with or without our believing. Their failure to give credit to what they had been told, more than to what they had seen, did not constrain God in the slightest. 

    But, it did cause them to look in the wrong place. And once there, this reliance upon their own ability to see caused them not to recognize Life in the form of a gardener. I guess if we must see something in order to believe it, then even when it is presented to the eyes, we won’t recognize it for what it is. Where have you been looking for life? What do you have to see to know if you’ve found it? 

    A gardener knows the secret to Life is patience. He is not a day-trader. He knows that there is much more going on beneath the surface than what can be seen above it. He knows better than to trust his eyes for determining truth.

  • Heteronomy or Autonomy, You Choose

    If you are regularly (perhaps even daily), buffeted by contrary winds, whether they be social, cultural, religious, or political, can you say of yourself that you are free? If your emotional state is impacted every time you turn on the News, every time you read an article, every time you see a Twitter or Facebook post, are you not voluntarily giving power, real power to forces outside yourself?

    These voices aren’t making me happy! Can’t they just leave me alone?

    Each of us faces opposition to our preferences. When the opposition is internal, we recognize the working of reason putting up a bulwark or providing reinforcements so that we don’t succumb to baser desires. But when the opposition to personal preference is external, and beyond direct control, how then do we deal?

    Friend, exactly what is happening when you get upset over opinions that are different than yours? Why does a different viewpoint elicit irrational behavior? Are we not each entitled to our own opinions. To what degree does a complete stranger’s beliefs have an existential impact on you? What is the cause so dear, that results in you slinging zingers at the opposition? Do you suppose that deriding or defeating political opponents will create lasting happiness within you?

    This you???

    Does everything in your external world, things over which you have no control, have to be perfected aligned with your preferences in order for you to experience internal peace? Do you feel it your duty to verbally hack away at every perceived threat to your personal perspective? That does not make you smarter. It reveals your ignorance. It reveals the contradictions in the things you claim to believe.

    If your state of mind as an individual human is impacted over and over again by the willful statements and actions of politicians, celebrities, the group to which you claim membership, or social media strangers (regardless of whether their names are on your ”friends” or ”followers” lists), then you are living under the domination of a form of heteronomy.

    Who has you surrounded? Who is controlling you? Who gets to determine the “real” you?

    Your mental and emotional states are shaped, dominated, and ruled by outside factors that are non-responsive to your own will. And you may well be deceiving yourself that you are autonomous, self-directed, free, and impacted in life only by the things you will and choose. In Reality, you are just a bi-pedal version of Pavlov’s dog, and just about as free.

    As they say, “If the collar fits…”

    You have allowed yourself to be classically conditioned to respond to all sorts of stimuli that you have No. Power. To. Change. Instead, those external things are changing you.

    For me, not a single thing either Donald Trump or Joe Biden or Kim Kardashian or Matt Gaetz or Bob Weir or Mitch McConnell or Major League Baseball says or does today will add or detract from my actual life. My hunch is that is equally true for you, Dear Reader, if you would allow yourself to take off your ”Angry glasses” or your ”Victim glasses” or your ”Righteous glasses” and just look with your own eyes and reason, at the measurable impact on your life these people (you either feel so allied with or so opposed to) actually have on your day.

    You can reclaim your autonomy. You can.

  • A Narrative About Narratives

    Narratives are everywhere! Pssst! You’re living one, right now!

    The word narrative is a noun meaning: a spoken or written account of connected events, a story.

    That’s it. That’s the whole definition. There is no lurking subterfuge. There is no attempted brain-washing. There is nothing nefarious about the word. 

    Are there some narratives that do those things? Undoubtedly. The purpose of some narratives is persuasion. The objective of others is merely revelation. But those who use the word narrative as a pejorative are doing a disservice to the language which is the coin of the realm when it comes to attempted communication.

    We all listen to narratives, if only the one in our heads that assigns reasons and meaning to the things that happen in our lives. Some of those inner narratives are devoid of rationale, betraying our own neuroses and biases and fears. 

    External narratives are all around us. They make up the lyrics of your favorite song. They are buried in visual ads that tell the story of how much sex appeal you will instantly invoke if you buy this brand of deodorant or shampoo. Certainly, they are present in media ”stories”. How could they not be. A narrative is, after all, nothing but a ”story”.

    The trick is to recognize both the point of view of a story (narrative), and its object. Is the narrator attempting to show you something, or trying to get you to believe something? If you hear a story presented in the format, People like us, believe X,Y, and Z, I advise that you proceed with caution, someone is selling something.

    All stories fall apart unless they are told from a point of view, and unless they have a point to make (Even when the point is entertainment). Objectivity is impossible for a storyteller. The best storytellers can even change points of view so skillfully you don’t know it’s happening. (For a sample, try reading the excellent, Sometimes A Great Notion, by Ken Kesey. He’ll put you right inside the head of Canada Goose dropping through fog to land on a wind-tossed Oregon river.)

    I find the following lines from a song to be insightful regarding the role of storytellers. 

    ”The storyteller makes no choice

    soon you will not hear his voice.

    His job is to shed light

    Not to master.”

    ~ Grateful Dead, Terrapin Station

    Narratives are only scary if:

    1. You’re unskilled at determining the perspective of the storyteller, 
    2. you find it difficult to differentiate between statements of opinion and statements of fact,
    3. you struggle with recognizing what the story is meant to do, and finally,
    4. you believe everything you’re told.

    If that describes you, perhaps earmuffs and blinders are a solution while you learn to do so.

    In case you have followed along to this point and missed the clues I’ve dropped:

    This essay is a narrative told from the perspective of me. It is my opinion. (Except for the definition above, which is a provable fact). The point is to rescue the word ‘narrative’ from disrepute, so that we may disarm both it, and those who misuse the word against us. Finally, I could be wrong, so evaluate my statements carefully and appropriate them at your own risk.

    You have no doubt heard the wise and oft-repeated maxim, ”Consider the source.” Which we should all do, all the time. Even when, or perhaps especially when, evaluating the narrative playing in our own heads.

    So the next time someone tries to bludgeon you with the claim that you are just listening to ”So-and-So’s Narrative” about a particular topic, you can smile, nod, and know that they are listening to someone else’s narrative, too. 

    Thus endeth the story…er, narrative.

    That wasn’t so scary was it?

  • Take No Thought

    Yesterday’s post posed the question: would you accept a salary that would meet all of your needs for the rest of your life? I then discussed some pitfalls pursuant to chasing wants.

    My morning ritual involves coffee, a quick run-through of automated reminders about bills due, and a quick check of banking software to assure the resources are available for the bills, lest I should need to move funds.

    I start each day making sure that I have the financial resources on hand for that day’s financial needs.

    But what other resources do I need for today? And can they be stored up? Can they be transferred from account to account?

    I’ll need breaths. Lots of them. Even more if I can squeeze in a walk or bike ride. I dare not try to store them up.

    He’s gonna need a much larger bag, no?

    I’ll need Grace. Lots of it! That can’t be stored either. Grace is deposited via the conduit of Faith on an as-needed basis and must be spent immediately.

    I’ll need my heart to keep beating. I don’t have any way to put the needed beats in an account that I can withdraw from if I start to run low.

    I need all the neurons and axons and dendrites in my neural cortex to fire correctly all day long. No neural storage banks either…

    Anyway…made me think.

    The most valuable things I’ll need for today, I’ll have to receive moment-by-moment as the need arises. Like the manna of old, I’ll have to gather only what I can use today. Attempting to store more than a day’s worth will spoil and breed worms.

    I think maybe that’s what Jesus meant when he said, ”Take no thought for tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about its own things. Sufficient for the day is its own trouble.”

    The things we take for granted, like breaths, and heartbeats, and mental processes are where the really important things reside. While we spend our energy and our time chasing and storing up, ”bread that does not satisfy.”

    Have a nice day! It’s the only March 29th, Two Thousand and Twenty-One that you’re ever gonna get.

  • Happy Birthday Rachel

    My daughter Rachel, has a birthday today. I wanted to share a few words about her.

    She is talented, and giving, and nurturing, and a healer. 

    Which is a miracle. She should be hardened and bitter and bruised and fragile, maybe a little broken and bent.

    As the firstborn of what eventually become a tribe of 7 (over the unfolding of 16 years), her mother and I often referred to her as our plow. It was no jest. She hit every rock in the field as our well-intentioned hearts, but unskilled hands tried to cultivate an environment for the family, using Rachel as the unwitting test case. She got dinged up in the process through faults that were not her own. In retrospect, I wish I’d had the wisdom to discover the myriad hidden rocks of parenthood and child-rearing other than with a firstborn plowshare named Rachel.

    I guess being a plow made her adventurous, pretty fearless, and certainly not afraid to take a calculated risk.  For years now she has carried the family’s entrepreneurial flame, having started her own business with unflagging determination, the sweat of her brow (literally), and out of her own pocket. 

    She set the stage for her own success during a post-divorce (family disaster) period of several years when we were unfortunately very much estranged (Though by the mercies of God, I am thrilled to have again been part of Rachel’s life for many years past.). Undaunted, she channeled her beautiful, stubborn, willful, independence into an amazing, thriving, service-oriented business. 

    I may be my daughter’s equal in stubbornness, but I’m not half the entrepreneur, and not a quarter the businessperson she is. And that is awesome to me! I am delighted that she has eclipsed my feeble modeling by such wide margins!

    She owns a massage therapy business with two high-end locations in the city where she was born at home. Because of necessary Covid lock downs, this past year has been a struggle for her. The mandatory shut down forced her to furlough her carefully curated staff. She had to negotiate lease arrangements with multiple landlords.

    She then had to do the same searching, and haggling, and negotiating, and juggling to patch together enough income to keep her own home. 

    She lost at least $120K of irrecoverable personal income in the past year due to lost revenues from mandatory shutdowns. This was through no fault of her own. 

    So, you’re damn right I’m glad the part of the government that actually cares about people voted to give some of that back! But it’s a drop in the bucket in comparison to what she lost.

    Finally able to reopen, she retained her former staff, and chose to adopt even safer guidelines and policies than mandated to protect both staff and clients. It’s worked! Her business has not seen a single case of Covid arising from the literal ”hands on” service they offer their clients.

    Though our conversations in the first few months of lock down shed some light on the efforts she was making, and all the bureaucratic red-tape she faced, she only very recently revealed just how dark those months of being shut down got for her. She did what Rachel does. She plowed ahead. She faced down the challenge, put on a brave face and soldiered on. 

    I complained with more venom in those paragraphs above more than I’ve heard her complain this year. She doesn’t complain. She seeks a solution. She implements it. She survives, and she thrives. And she shares the success with those in her orbit.

    At the beginning of the month, I wrote that my oldest son is my kindest child. Well…my oldest daughter has the toughest shell. But inside that shell is a warm, generous soul more concerned about your well-being than she is about her own. A caring nurturer who can heal you with her very touch! Her name in Hebrew, means ”Ewe”. All of the connotations of ”Ewe”, from nurturer, to comforter, to provider, to economic sustenance, each are manifest in my Rachel.

    Thanks for indulging a thimbleful of my pride in wishing her a Happy Birthday! 

    Happy Birthday, Rachel. 

    PS- I’m still heartbroken over letting that little lab puppy nip your one-year-old’s finger at Freedom Park that day I was carrying you on my shoulders and kneeled down to let you pet it.

    I wish I could have protected you better then…and every day since, from every nip and bite that my kneeling down to circumstances and pressures caused you to endure. Please know that from the first time your emergence into this world splashed me with salt water, all your cries have always broken my father’s heart. And all your smiles and successes have healed it again with gratitude and pride!

  • The Availability Heuristic

     I recently bumped into a fascinating term with which I was quite familiar by practice, but not by name. It is called the Availability Heuristic. The link will go to a wiki page with a more precise definition and some examples of how the phenomenon applies in various categories of life. 

    In short, the availability heuristic is a mental phenomenon in which a person relies upon the recall of  information that can be brought easily to mind to form the basis for opinions and decisions. (The word heuristic is a fancy term for ”problem-solving” or ”decision-making”.)

    If something can be easily recalled, it is available to the mind to serve for ”facts”, and there is a tendency (bias) to give it more weight and credence. 

    If you spend a week watching Shark Week on television and then are invited to swim in the ocean, your exposure to all of the gruesome shark attacks during the past week will be readily available when you decide whether or not to venture into the water. 

    Nah, there’s nothing to see here.

    The availability heuristic predicts that you will feel a higher probability of a shark encounter than had you not watched all those shows. The actual statistical probability of being attacked does not change a fraction based upon your television habits or your ability to recall the frightening scenes. Meanwhile, you remain blissfully ignorant of the much higher statistical probability of being involved in a serious car accident on the way to the beach.

    Immersion in any pool of information makes it seem more true and more predominant than it may actually be. 

    This bias is exactly what gives rise to social media ”Echo Chambers” regarding political, social, and cultural views. 

    Exposure shapes opinion. Opinion shapes worldview. Be careful out there.

  • Authenticity

    Authenticity.

    There is a fine word. And with much urging telling us to find and be true to our authentic selves, I thought I’d take a crack at it. To get there, let’s think on a few things.

    How many people have inputs into your outputs?

    Asked another way, how many people do you feel beholden to act, or speak, or dress, or function in a certain way for?

    Put in the negative, how many elicit constraints upon you, causing you to refrain from acting, speaking, dressing, or functioning in ways you may privately prefer?

    Or this, to whom do you feel obligated to make these accommodations?

    And to whom is this obligation legitimately owed?

    When people live and work in close proximity to one another, they modify themselves accordingly.

    A couple remains a couple so long as they conform themselves the one to the other.

    ’Tis true, the best relationships require the least remodeling to achieve conformity, but all require some. And in the best relationships, the conforming of partner to partner is what gives each the greatest pleasure and fulfillment.

    Families sharing the same dwelling and utilizing the same resources find an equilibrium conferring membership privileges to those who are least able to provide for the resources needed for the family’s well being. Parents and siblings reconfigure their lives outwardly and inwardly to conform to the needs of a new baby. They continue to do so as the child advances in years, feeling themselves obligated to conform the patterns of their own existences to provide the necessities of smaller, shorter, younger persons, unable yet to secure the necessaries of life for themselves. Good parents do this for some eighteen years, not of compulsion, but voluntarily. 

    And is it not true that at all stages of a baby’s life, save in the first mewling months, that child is shaped, and taught, and fashioned to learn to temper the authenticity of its innocent selfishness to the needs and desires of others? Meaning; as soon as is practicable in most households, training begins to teach and shape the baby for accommodation to the needs of the people on whom it depends for survival. Bed time and nap times are employed. An interval of feeding is established. A rhythm develops. A pattern emerges. Some kind of symbiosis evolves that allows the caretaking parents and older siblings to meet the baby’s needs and appetites without killing themselves in the effort. 

    It is only during infancy, and quite early infancy at that, that the person is authentic in his unconcern for conforming to the needs of those around him. (The possible exception of this is the extreme advance of old-age.) Unaware of, and unconcerned for, others except as means to his own satisfaction, the infant is a living consumer of the attentions, energies, and efforts of those positioned to give him what he wants and needs. This is tolerably cute at one month, but is a veritable nightmare by age two.

    So, when we speak of adults rediscovering their authentic selves, and assign any connotation of selfish indulgence as that, and only that, which is truly genuine, we are speaking of that phase of our lives which existed for perhaps three to six months at most, then vanished, as it should have.

    Why then, the desire for authenticity? Especially that described as adhering to one’s true self? 

    No human, save Adam, was created as a reclusive hermit to live out his days consulting only his own whims and wishes. 

    If cooperation and adaptability are the hallmarks of enlightened humanity, it is no surprise that Eve was formed out of Adam’s rib. She has no being apart from Adam. And it had already been determined by God Himself, and not Adam, that it was not good for man to be alone. Therefore, he lay down and slept, voluntarily giving, quite literally, of his own substance, to provide the materiel necessary for a life other than his own, he having no being worth having apart from her.

    And thus, from the earliest story of our race, we can learn that it is others, and our relationships and adaptability to them that gives rise to our lives. And is therefore that which gives both meaning and richness to our lives. If this is not authenticity, what is?

    No one is required to yield to the childish, selfish demands of those who have aged out of infancy and who therefore ought to know better. The law of love is naught but an appeal and reminder to humans to love others As we love ourselves. 

    The interests of every other person are as important and valuable to them as yours are to you. They are not greater in value and have no greater claim. One may voluntarily choose to love another More than oneself, or act in another’s interests, more than one’s own, but if that person is of similar age and situation in life, it is not obligatory, and it is no part of human authenticity requiring that degree of conformity and accommodation. 

    But let’s consider that it is the very nature of authentic, genuine human-ness to adapt our lives to those around us. Had not our mothers literally accommodated us in their own bodies, we’d have no selves at all, authentic, or otherwise, right? It is accepting, yielding, and adapting to the life of another that makes life possible at all.

    This is a dance in which we sometimes lead and sometimes follow. We sometimes give and sometimes receive, This is human authenticity. He who practices these adaptations best is most authentic and most human.

  • Culture Wars?

    In light of the politically driven Culture Wars in the US, I googled ”how many cultures are in America?”

    I found an interesting article in business insider, claiming 11 different US ”nations” with territorial borders and unique cultural and political affinities. 

    On a site called Inter Exchange that promotes cultural interchange for expats and students, I found the following article listing 10 Things to Know About US Culture. 

    There are a number of other returns to my query that run along the same lines. They universally declare that cultural diversity and plurality is a characteristic of life in the United States. 

    That doesn’t begin to touch the innumerable sub-cultures that exist in America. 

    These are legitimate cultures in the sense of shared values, experiences, practices, beliefs, and norms. Some of them even have their own shared languages, art, rituals, and ceremonies.

    These are facts.

    No intelligent person would dispute them.

    I cannot remember the last time someone forced me against my will to adopt their cultural norms, or join their culture.

    I have been unsuccessful forcing people to join my preferred sub-culture: DeadHead.

    And even less successful forcing them into my preferred sub-sub-culture: Christian DeadHead.

    Have you been the victim of Cultural Coercion? 

    If so, how did it happen? Can you share how you were made to become part of a group, speak a language, appreciate the art, or literature, or music, or eat the food and drink the kool-aid of that group who made you join against your will?

    If no Culture has thus far successfully forced your membership, are you participating in a war against some other Culture trying to force them to join yours?

    I think the Culture Wars are just as stupid and just as failed as the Drug Wars.

    I’m a conscientious objector, myself.

  • Thirty-Five…still ALIVE!

    Hampton Coliseum: This Hell in a Bucket became my Altar of Remembrance.

    Like the Old Testament figures who faced a crisis, had an encounter with God, and erected a pillar of stones to commemorate the place, this day on the calendar is my altar of remembrance.

    Today marks 35 years since I was lost enough to let myself be led, to borrow words from my favorite Rich Mullins song, Hard to Get.

    Two questions and one answer forever changed the trajectory of my life and have given me these thirty-five years, quite literally, on the house.

    Question one: Are you having that much fun?

    Question two: How much are you worth?

    Answer: God thinks you’re worth the death of His Son.

    Thirty-five years in, and I’m as amazed today at how and where Jesus found me as in the hour I first believed.

    I’m certain many people are looking for God. They just don’t know they’re looking for Him. 

    Many, like my 21-yr-old self, think they’ve already found Him. He’s the all-inclusive, Grand Cosmic Guru running everything, hidden in everything, maintaining everything, right? He’s the One conducting the Acid Tests. He’s the One encouraging you to Be Here, Now. He’s the one that’s totally cool with you as long as you don’t hurt anyone else, right? Not considering that a life spent groping around in a dark room when there’s a light switch on the wall, hurt’s everyone else…right?

    And believing they already know Him at least as well if not better than the slick, well-dressed TV professionals; carnival hawkers pitching a snake-oil version of God, they aren’t looking in the traditionally right places. Because, face it, most of those places are oh-so-stuffy-and-judgmental, and frankly,…dead.

    They know instinctively God must be bigger than that. And so, rejecting the organizational part of religion, they feel themselves adrift, looking for something in the next port, the next experience, the next drug.

    Bobby Weir, 3-19-86 singing the lyric that led to the Question one. You don’t have to be a televangelist to be used by God.

    They can’t say why they’re pushing every envelope, testing every limit, hopping the fence at every boundary. Like me, they don’t know why they think every door they open, will be THE DOOR of the universe. They just know there must be more to all of this than what the world is selling.

    Let me just say, I feel ya!

    But sometimes in all your manic searching you can get yourself so inextricably tangled up and lost, that you’re ready to hold out your hands and take a Day-Glo green pamphlet from a hippy chick you’ll never meet again, read it, and like a snake shedding it’s skin, walk away a different person. 

    The switch clicks, the Light comes on, and you get found by the One who has been holding you in His outstretched hands. And the only appropriate words, even thirty-five years later, are simply, Thank You. 

    The outside of the tract said, How Much Are You Worth? God thinks you’re worth the death of His Son, was written inside the tract…with an image like this one.

    A few years ago, I wrote out this version of my testimony . I re-read it this morning. It could benefit from some edits, and it’s kind of long, but if you have any interest in whether or not Jesus goes to Grateful Dead shows, it’s there for the reading.