Suffocation by Supervision

Children take sailing lessons five days each week at this lake near my home.

   During summer, many school aged children are over supervised and over scheduled.
   They take sailing lessons, play in softball leagues, and attend nature classes, to name a few. Adults supervise these activities.
   Some kids go to camps with specialized programs. That means learning over leisure.
   Excessive supervision is suffocating children's social and psychological development.
   Parents ought to back off. Let kids and their friends play without interference. Let them go fishing by themselves, and talk about whatever as they wait for a fish to pull down a bobber.
   Unsupervised play encourages resourcefulness. It deepens relationships. It teaches kids how to get along. Free time stimulates daydreaming. It gives children time to sort things out.
   One afternoon I drove by a park. Two girls sat beside a fence, shooting the breeze. They seemed content. No adults were in sight. I'll bet those girls enjoyed the summer more than their peers with schedules to follow.

Bound to the Soil

   Elderly farmers often walk the back roads in Galicia, a region of Spain. They carry tools. I suspect they're retirees working on farms owned by their sons. Or they're still working in their own fields.
   Sparks of vitality fill their eyes. Their bodies are robust for their age. 
   When God punished Adam and Eve, he told them, "By the sweat of your face you shall eat bread…." It meant that Adam and Eve, and their descendants, must work to survive. It's assumed by many that God intended for work to be unpleasant.
   I question that assumption. I believe that when God cracked down on Adam and Eve, he intended for work to be hard but also gratifying. A source of happiness. 
   Those old timers in Spain appear content with their lives. That's because they're still enjoying the exhilaration that comes from completing manual tasks. 

Trouble in a Puddle

   Two minnows live within this puddle. They're desperate. The puddle is shrinking. It's located on a stream bed that's pretty much dry.
   Last week the puddle was deeper and wider. But not by much. A dozen fish congregated in close quarters. Predators must have taken advantage of the situation. Ten minnows have disappeared.
   Two fish survived the aggression. I believe they hid inside the crag of rock. That's because they hustled into the crag when I showed up.
   If the puddle evaporates--it could happen any day--the crag will no longer matter. Those last two fish will perish. Nature is indeed cruel.
   But not all the time. I'm hoping for a thunder shower.

Nothing Escapes Decay

      Once a year in church, I hear the reminder, 'Remember, man, that you are dust, and dust you shall return!' It's a warning about the eventual decaying of my body.
   Scientific theory coincides with this biblical warning. According to the second law of thermodynamics, 'heat and work' offset decay, but only for a while. In the end, physical things decay into different forms of matter.
   Last month a filling dropped out of my tooth. A dentist drilled the cavity and plugged it. He generated work and heat. The tooth is doing okay. But years from now that tooth, and my entire body, will disintegrate into something else.
   I noticed an abandoned home (seen in photo) while droving in South Dakota. At one time it probably housed a family of ranchers. They must have spent lots of time maintaining the property. But now it's fallen into disrepair. Eventually the prairie will consume it.
   Can the second law of thermodynamics apply to souls?
   Souls aren't physical. They can't decay like wood. They are immortal.
   But souls are tangible. It is possible they exist as energy. If that is true, then souls may indeed be affected, in part, by thermodynamics.
   Or maybe the theories of thermodynamics are not true.
  This I do believe: Souls are vulnerable to decay. Not a physical decay, a spiritual one.
  To offset this decay, we must introduce to our souls the spiritual versions of work and heat. I'm not sure what those versions are. Perhaps they're found in praying. Or from exposure to sacraments. 

Broken Symbol

   
   Guess what I'm pointing to? Hint. The object is attached to the top of a sports trophy.
   Give up? The object is the figure of a running shoe.
   The resemblance isn't obvious. The shoe once comprised part of a statue attached to the trophy. The statue depicted an athlete running. When the trophy took a spill, the statue broke off. Only the shoe survived.
   I received that trophy during high school. It commemorated achievements on a track team.
   For decades, the trophy lay in a box. It had lost it's appeal. I considered trashing it.
   Not any more.
  The trophy, in its damaged condition, has taken on a new symbolism. That running running shoe reminds me that I'm leaving behind footprints. Not the physical kind visible on sand. It reminds me that actions I perform leave footprints on the course of mankind.
   We're all leaving behind these footprints of our lifetimes. Some of these footprints contribute to the progression of goodness. Some of them hasten the spread of evil. Many actions we perform have little impact on humankind--a possible source of regret later in a life.
   When we stand before God for judgement, will he scrutinize these footprints we've left behind?

Migrating Customers

   Rain hammered the pavement outside the food market. An employee held an umbrella. When customers walked out, he offered them an escort to their cars. The service impressed me. 
   I used to shop at a different market, part of a large chain. Their location was convenient. Then, almost overnight, the prices spiked. To add insult to injury, they introduced self checkout lanes, a feature most shoppers despise.
   Now I patronize this smaller market featuring an umbrella man. Prices are cheaper. Cashiers and baggers staff every lane. So what if it's not as convenient?
   I'm not the only customer who's moved. Thousands have bailed out on that larger chain. They are closing some stores. Good riddance to them.
  Many companies start with humble beginnings. They grow, prosper, and get big. Flush with success, greed and complacency infects their cultures. Customers migrate elsewhere. Those once mighty companies shrink or fail. 
   Short sighted people are prone to greed. Far sighted people avoid greediness. They understand that greed foreshadows decline.

Home Not Sweet Home

       Fifty-eight years of marriage. To mark my parent's wedding anniversary, I drove them to a house.
While newlyweds, they had resided briefly in this house. It's where I first lived.  
   We didn't know the owners of the house. I considered knocking on the door. Perhaps the owners would allow Mom and Dad to go inside for a nostalgic visit.
    While the car idled on the street, I took in details of the property. Paint peeled on shutters. The lawn was unkempt. Bushes grew out of control. Pine needles cluttered the gutter.
   An assumption popped into my mind: The owners of the property, because they were neglecting the upkeep, might not be amicable toward strangers.
  Could this assumption be wrong? Perhaps an elderly couple lived inside the house. Given their age, they might have fallen behind on maintenance. These people could be delighted to show us around.
   I pressed my foot on the gas peddle and drove away.
   The cliche is true: Appearances matter.

Above the Books

A librarian leads a tour of a new library in my town.

    I gazed straight up with amazement. It happened several times during a tour of a new library.
   In the periodical room I paid little attention to the magazines. Instead I looked up at the ceiling. In a main room I ignored the novels. My attention focused on a peaked ceiling. In all the rooms I visited, my eyes drifted upward.
   It wasn't ceilings per se that garnered my attention. Nor was it the things attached to them. Just the opposite. What amazed me was something I didn't see.
   Surveillance cameras.
   Imagine that, a public building constructed without cameras. To be sure, I spoke to the library director. She confirmed my observation. No cameras. No big brother. A respect for privacy.
   In previous blogs, I've expressed outrage at our government's increasing surveillance of citizens. Touring that library injected me with a measure of hope. In some towns of America, constitutional freedoms are still respected.

Lights on ceiling. No cameras.