A civil civilization.

I’m for a philosophical approach to life. For civilizations that require leaders to be philosophers. That is, if we can decide who qualifies as a real philosopher. I’ve been taught that philosophy asks big questions. Seeking answers to questions such as:  What is the origin of things? Who are we? What is existence? Is there a purpose to life? What is the role of humanity in life? What is the mind? What is knowledge? What is truth? Yes. Yes. Imagine. Philosophical queries being part of our political discourse.  Wow!!! A civil civilization. --Jim Broede

I'd rather play it safe.

I have no desire to be ‘better’ than other people. I’d rather be my true self. And sometimes that means being the inferior one. The one that plays second fiddle. Or doesn’t play at all. Maybe what I’m saying. I’d rather downplay the competitive nature of life. If I have to compete. Let it be against myself. Rather than against others. If I entered a marathon, my goal would be merely to finish the race. I wouldn’t mind being last. Just as long as I finished. But I’m afraid. That once I was in the race. And there was a guy ahead of me, I’d have the urge to pass him up. The competitive instinct would take over. Therefore, I’m better off. Not entering the race. Better to decide. To run a marathon. All by myself. Alone. So far, the best I’ve done. Is 13 miles. A half-marathon. That’s good enough. Once upon a time. I got on a treadmill. And did a 7-minute mile. Now I wouldn’t even try it. Knowing. I’d probably drop dead. Short of the finish line. That’s a discouraging thought. I’d rather play it safe. And stay alive. --Jim Broede

A true man of moderation.

Haven’t decided yet. Whether I’m a true man of moderation. Or if I tend to go off the deep end. And push my limits. Beyond and beyond and beyond. I walk 10 miles. Daily. Yes, some 70 miles a week. Some people tell me. That’s excessive.  Anything but moderate. For an 82-year-old man. Of course, I scoff at that.  And boast that I’m a man of moderation. After all, I walk at a leisurely pace. Of 15-to-20-minute miles. I figure. That if my life depended on it.  I could complete a marathon. At that speed. Anyway. Before and after my walks. I often sit down. And write thousands of words. Thoughts. Such as this. I could be accused of being addicted. To writing and walking. I do it every day. For 13 years. I was a compulsive care-giver. Learned to like caring for Jeanne.  Went for long stretches for 24/7. But ultimately cut back to 8 to 10 hours. Always without miss. More proof. That I know how to bring my life under control. Yes. Yes. Here I am. A survivor. I wonder. If that makes me a true man of moderation. –Jim Broede