A Time to Receive and a Time to Give

It is important to know when we can give attention and when we need attention.
Often we are inclined to give, give, and give without ever asking anything in return.
We may think that this is a sign of generosity or even heroism.
But it might be little else than a proud attitude that says: "I don't need help from others. I only want to give."
When we keep giving without receiving we burn out quickly.
Only when we pay careful attention to our own physical, emotional, mental, and spiritual needs can we be, and remain, joyful givers.
There is a time to give and a time to receive.
We need equal time for both if we want to live healthy lives.

-- Henri Nouwen

The Old Outfit

Way fun to read, if simplistic -- as are most trips into the past. Women will continue to go to sea, and that's a fact all hands must accept. One thing us somewhat more modern sailors notice is that skirts now are banned at sea. (Those damned open ladders, you know.)

THE OLD OUTFIT

"Written By a World War Two Sailor."

Come gather round me lads and I'll tell you a thing or two,
about the way we ran the Navy in nineteen forty two.

When wooden ships and iron men were barely out of sight,
I am going to give you some facts just to set the record right.

We wore the ole bell bottoms, with a flat hat on our head,
and we always hit the sack at night. We never "went to bed."

Our uniforms were worn ashore, and we were mighty proud.
Never thought of wearing civvies, in fact they were not allowed.

Now, when a ship puts out to sea. I'll tell you son, it hurts!
When suddenly you notice that half the crew's wearing skirts.

And it's hard for me to imagine, a female boatswains mate,
stopping on the Quarter deck to make sure her stockings are straight.

What happened to the KiYi brush, and the old salt-water bath?
Holy stoning decks at night, cause you stirred old Bosn's wrath!

We always had our gedunk stand and lots of pogey bait.
And it always took a hitch or two, just to make a rate.

In your seabag all your skivvies, were neatly stopped and rolled.
And the blankets on your sack had better have a three-inch fold.

Your little ditty bag . . . it is hard to believe just how much it held,
and you wouldn't go ashore with pants that hadn't been spiked and belled.

We had scullery maids and succotash and good old S.O.S.
And when you felt like topping off, you headed for the mess.

Oh we had our belly robbers, but there weren't too many gripes.
For the deck apes were never hungry and there were no starving snipes.

Now, you never hear of Davey Jones, Shellbacks or Polliwogs,
and you never splice the mainbrace to receive your daily grog.

Now you never have to dog a watch or stand the main event.
You even tie your lines today; back in my time they were bent.

We were all two-fisted drinkers and no one thought you sinned,
if you staggered back aboard your ship, three sheets to the wind.

And with just a couple hours of sleep you regained your usual luster.
Bright eyed and bushy tailed, you still made morning muster.

Rocks and shoals have long since gone, and now it's U.C.M.J.
Back then the old man handled everything if you should go astray.

Now they steer the ships with dials, and I wouldn't be surprised,
if some day they sailed the damned things from the beach, computerized.

So when my earthly hitch is over, and the good Lord picks the best,
I'll walk right up to Him and say,

"Sir, I have but one request.
Let me sail the seas of Heaven in a coat of Navy blue.
Like I did so long ago on earth, way back in forty two."

Elder's Meditation -- Smells Of Morning

Each morning a new sun for a new day arises.
Each morning the sweet perfume from the Mother Earth spreads across the land.
This combination of sun, earth, smell and quiet is a magic door for me to enter to kneel before the Grandfathers.
The sacred time to commune with the Great Spirit.

Oh Great Spirit, I humbly stand

before You along with the new sun,

the Mother Earth and the smells of the morning.

I ask You to direct my thinking today.

Let me live in the silence.

Teach me Your wisdom, Teach me to love my brothers and sisters.

Let me respect the things You have made.

Be Who You Are

See who you are.

Own who you are.

Be who you are.

Don't apologize.

-- Jerry K.

Once I own my shortcomings, once I tell them out loud to another person, I have taken full responsibility for myself - who I am, what I am- and how I have acted.
Now I am closer to my Higher Power, who has accepted me all along.
Now I can return to the spiritual support that is always available.
When I admitted who I am to myself and others, I am given the gift of self-acceptance and a sense of belonging to the human race.

Today help me tell myself, my Higher Power, and
at least one other person who I really am.

Elder's Meditation -- Know Thyself

It is only by knowing ourselves that we can get in touch with our power.
It is said, "Tell me what you know about yourself and I'll tell you what you know about God. Tell me what you know about God and I'll tell you what you know about yourself."
As we increase knowledge of ourselves, as we choose to grow spiritually, as we clean up our act, then we can teach the children.

My Creator, You have said "Know thyself."

Today let me see the wisdom of this Truth.

Give me Your insight of myself.

I am always walking the talk and most people can see it.

Today, help and guide me on the Red Road.

Humility

Humility is not thinking less of yourself,

but thinking of yourself less.

Hooaahhh!!!

You stay up for 16 hours.
He stays up for days on end.

You take a warm shower to help you wake up.
He goes days or weeks without running water.

You complain of a "headache", and call in sick.
He gets shot at as others are hit, and keeps moving forward.

You put on your anti war/don't support the troops shirt, and go meet up with your friends.
He still fights for your right to wear that shirt.

You make sure you're cell phone is in your pocket.
He clutches the cross hanging on his chain next to his dog tags.

You talk trash about your "buddies" that aren't with you.
He knows he may not see some of his buddies again.

You walk down the beach, staring at all the pretty girls.
He patrols the streets, searching for insurgents and terrorists.

You complain about how hot it is.
He wears his heavy gear, not daring to take off his helmet to wipe his brow.

You go out to lunch, and complain because the restaurant got your order wrong.
He doesn't get to eat today.

Your maid makes your bed and washes your clothes.
He wears the same things for weeks, but makes sure his weapons are clean.

You go to the mall and get your hair redone.
He doesn't have time to brush his teeth today.

You're angry because your class ran 5 minutes over.
He's told he will be held over an extra 2 months.

You call your girlfriend and set a date for tonight.
He waits for the mail to see if there is a letter from home.

You hug and kiss your girlfriend, like you do everyday.
He holds his letter close and smells his love's perfume

You roll your eyes as a baby cries.
He gets a letter with pictures of his new child, and wonders if they'll ever meet.

You criticize your government, and say that war never solves anything.
He sees the innocent tortured and killed by their own people and remembers why he is fighting.

You hear the jokes about the war, and make fun of men like him.
He hears the gunfire, bombs and screams of the wounded.

You see only what the media wants you to see.
He sees the broken bodies lying around him.

You are asked to go to the store by your parents. You don't.
He does exactly what he is told.

You stay at home and watch TV.
He takes whatever time he is given to call, write home, sleep, and eat.

You crawl into your soft bed, with down pillows, and get comfortable.
He tries to sleep but gets woken by mortars and helicopters all night long.

You sit there and judge him, saying the world is probably a worse place because of men like him.
If only there were more men like him