The Only Question to Ask

It was 7:30 on a Saturday morning.  We were gingerly nursing our java and waiting for the caffeine to kick us in the head. My friend and I were nestled in our weekend lair; a place crowded with the usual suspects each seeking solace in their surroundings as they downed liquid battery-chargers and inhaled tasty treats that were bad for them. It was their chance to devour the morning news before weekend chores filled the rest of their day. My friend and I just wanted to philosophize about life.

My friend has just finished a book called ‘Platonic Superman’ by Dr. James B. Clark, Ph.D. Somewhere in the course of our conversation my friend commented about’ the only question a person has to ask of himself or herself.’  It was the only one true question that answers all the others.  He said the question came out of that book or so I thought.

A few days later, I called him to get clarification but he couldn’t remember that part of our conversation.  I guess his caffeine hadn’t kicked in as quickly as mine had.  I remembered that question because it had triggered an immediate response on my part.

As I recalled my friend’s comments, there is only one question that truly encompasses all of life’s analysis of the reasons for living.  I think he had it right. In truth that one question answered all the other questions that had been swirling around in my head for oh so many years. Plato had it right; there is only one true question in life that need be asked.

That book seemed like a strange place to find such a question.  ‘Platonic Superman’ is the story of Dr. Clark’s study of eastern philosophy, metaphysics and spirituality as a means to break world records. James Clark began breaking world-records right out of high school. My friend explained it this way: ‘Dr. Clark’s premise is straight-forward yet complex. By combining Plato’s metaphysics on spirituality with his own physical strength, Mr. Clark pushed through physical pain to achieve his record-breaking goals. Essentially, my friend explained, ‘Plato used to say there are only two parts to a person: spiritual which is God and the soul which is the individual. He believed the body was nothing but a vessel. So Mr. Clark took that philosophy to heart and punished his body so he could reach super-human strength and beat all kinds of world records.’

After breaking these physical endurance records Mr. Clark took a hiatus from world record-breaking and went to the university to study theology, philosophy (both ancient Greek philosophy and Eastern philosophy), Platonic metaphysics, and transcendental meditation.

He then went on to use the principles gained through his philosophical studies and transcendental meditation to break over thirty more world records. His mantra was quite simply ‘mind over matter’ and a belief that he could mute the physical pain his body felt and transcend that pain to another level of physical endurance.

While studying Plato, Dr. Clark came upon the one true question.  I wanted to research the genesis of that question so I tried to Google it but came up short. There were all sorts of ‘one question to ask’ articles but none relevant to what I was looking for.

There is the one question to ask...  During an interview

                                                     About the GOP debates

                                                     About getting a job

                                                     About getting married.

                                                     Of your role model

                                                     Are you a narcissist?

                                                    The only question Christians should ask of gay marriage

Larry Flynt (Penthouse magazine) chimed in with his question: How much are you willing to sacrifice to achieve success? None of these were helpful so I turned to that brainy guy.

Albert Einstein said that there is only one question worth asking; the answer to which determines your entire outlook on life and affects your finances, romance, and even your health. OK, he had me so far.

His question was: Do you believe the Universe is malevolent or benevolent?

Moving on, I went the philosophy route and bumped into that French guy. Albert Camus in his book ‘The Myth of Sisyphe’ undertakes to answer what he considers to be the only question of philosophy that matters: Does the realization of the meaninglessness and absurdity of life necessarily require suicide? No, that wasn’t quite what I was looking for.

Next I turned to business journals and found several good candidates for my one question. Pushing past the old standards such as: ‘What is my purpose in life?’ and ‘How can I be happy?’ and then combining several into ‘Do I even need purpose to be happy in life?’ I settled upon the question ‘Why am I really here?’ or ‘What is the purpose of my work?’  Those were all plausible questions but still didn’t resonate with me as that first question had.

Recently, business consultant Clifford Jones wrote an article on that subject for the Twin Cities Business Journal.  His main premise is that we must have a purpose in our endeavors because without purpose work is just slavery for a salary and not meaningful work. He goes on to talk about a work-life balance and most of the new take on the workplace that millennials have grasped and the older generation still struggle with.

But this still wasn’t getting me any closer to someone else’s analysis of that one true question.  So finally, I gave up and went back to the question as I thought I had first heard it from my friend.

He said that question was: “Who are you?’

That morning at the coffee shop, it had taken me all of two seconds to come up with my answer.  It came in a flash and settled into my consciousness like a comfortable old blanket; encompassing all that was truly me. Without forethought, pondering, self-analysis or examination the answer was there and it was right.

I am a seeker…and have been most of my life.

Consciously and organically, it probably began with my paper route in seventh grade and the wonderful, exhilarating world I entered every morning with my transistor radio and that new elixir called rock and roll.

It continued in high school with my first taste of love and then on to college accompanied by the music of Bob Dylan and the Beatles.  Ten years followed that I’ve labeled my ‘lost years.’ Then it was taking those first steps at novel writing in the 70’s. Real estate and business ventures in the 80’s and 90’s. A career shift and a renewed focus on writing beginning in early 2000’s.

 

It’s been a continuous ‘vision quest’ most of my life.  Restless drifting and bouncing off new and old ideas alike. A collusion of thought, desire, thirst, fear, and longing that has robbed me of the ability to settle down and accept retirement as an alternative life form.

It’s been a Spartan journey offering tantalizing clues along the way.  Others around me simply define their lives as ‘retired’ or ‘doting Grandparents’ or ‘busy.’ But I have to selfishly wonder where is their passion? What is the point of living if there isn’t a purpose beyond simply getting through each day?

Mine is a never-ending journey collecting clouds until such time as immobility and constricted brain cells slow me down a bit.  There is no end goal. There is no destination. There is only the journey. Always trekking toward an ever-elusive horizon yet feeling alive and relishing the trip itself.

For truly this journey of mine is the ultimate destination.

Palm Springs: Wet and Wild

Palm Springs can be a comfortable contradiction of terms.  On one hand it’s cultured and refined. In the other palm it can be wild and crazy. Staid old traditions often collide against hot trends germinating from both coasts. It’s a confluence of the old and new, reserved and uninhibited, legacy verses façade. Yet there seems to be something for everyone who comes out here looking for a venue outside of the norm.

Palm Springs is wet.  The Dinah, the White Party, Splash weekends, Coachella and Stagecoach are just a few of the fun-inspired events and festivals.  They can be edgy, outrageous and even scandalous. And those are just some of the tamer ways to describe how some people behave once they get here.

The legendary Club Skirts Dinah Shore Weekend turned twenty-five this year.  From a small one-night event with 1,500 participants twenty-five years ago to now five days of epic pool parties and world-class entertainment, the Dinah has evolved into one of Palm Springs largest tourism boosters. This year the Dinah attracted over 15,000 attendees and cemented its status as the largest lesbian event of its kind in the world.

The White Party has done the same thing for gay men from around the country.

Coachella is a cultural rock and roll happening in its own rite.  Since its humble beginnings in 1999 as a two-day indie rock festival, Coachella has established itself as one of the largest two-weekend celebrations in the country. In 2015, it attracted well over 500,000 attendees and continued to draw some of rock, hip-hop, and electronic dance music’s biggest names.

Stagecoach is a simpler, more traditional roundup celebrating country, bluegrass, and folk music and culture.  The polo field grounds are dotted with bales of hay, stagecoaches, and mechanical bulls. Since its launch in 2007, the festival has grown exponentially and offers comfortable options including a recreational vehicle camping resort for a fancier experience.

Local hotels add to the flavor with their own hedonistic menu of pool-parties, lounge entertain-ment acts, splash events, and all-night carousing.  Most hotels have their own venue of live music party bashes. Local shops feature Coachella and Stagecoach fashions from hipster cool to Wild West to boho queen to cozy country and desert chic.

Yet even in that crazy colliding quilt of fashion and fun both generations love to cross over occasionally.  For the more mature among us, it can be wild and wet if the climb is hard and honest sweat counts for anything.

For those seeking some respite from city living greater Palm Springs offers up a plateful of scenic escapes by the hour or by the day. Visitors can find quiet and sanctuary on mountain paths, red-walled canyons and the relaxing solitude of the high desert. There’s a plethora of hiking, biking, swimming, mountain climbing, trail running and that’s just in the morning hours.

 

Palm, Murray and Andreas make up the much larger Indian Canyons just south of downtown. Lake Cahuilla Recreation Area features over 710 acres with fishing, camping, hiking, and horseback trails.

Whitewater Preserve is a vital wildlife corridor between the San Bernardino and San Jacinto Mountains and is home to several species of endangered birds and a robust population of deer, bears, and bighorn sheep.

Joshua Tree National Park boasts over 790,000 acres of divergent topography and rapidly changing landscapes.  Two deserts merge among a seemingly-endless swath of boulders to form the national park. The Colorado Desert occupies the eastern half of the part and the higher, slightly cooler Mojave Desert makes up the western half.  Year-round activities include hiking, biking, rock climbing, camping, and stargazing.

Aside from its majestic physical surroundings, Palm Springs can be anything you want it to be.  It’s a state of mind in a land of temptations. For some, ‘hooking up’ means a solid crampon lodged in granite. To others it means something entirely different. A ‘one night stand’ means overnight lodging to one person. An experiment in mutual satisfaction to another.

Welcome to wild and wacky world of the new Palm Springs.  Part fable, part legend, part public relations and media snowstorm and part reality. For most it is a reflection of what they think this place should be…at least in their own minds. For others it is a culmination of self-induced parity of what everyone else their age is doing, acting, and pretending.

Leaving Palm Springs

Whether you chose to be part of the circus or not, it can be a curious and ever mind-expanding place to be…or be from.

My Nemesis Called RBF

Who would think this mild-mannered fellow could be hiding such a surly character flaw?  Unbeknownst to him and millions of other souls like him, his sinister façade seemed to surface at the most inopportune times and usually undetected by its carrier. Here I was a victim and didn’t even know it…until now.

Many women feel superior because they always know what their husbands or significant others are thinking.  They can pin-point their partner’s moods, frustrations and the thought patterns...or at least they think they can. But sometimes it’s just RBF raising its ugly facade. I have this handicap…probably have had it all my life.

Awhile back, an over-eager TSA guard didn’t recognize it while I was going through security at the airport.  His subsequent report had me pigeon-holed as a suspicious character.  Consequently my bags were inspected for over four years before the government finally concluded I wasn’t a threat to national security.  A simple stare was all it took to land me in governmental hot water.

With this handicap, group interactions can be the most challenging.  If I’m pensive people tell me I sometimes look sad or angry. If I’m thoughtful they might think I’m miserable. People have misread my expressions, my moods and my thoughts most of my life. Now I find out it isn’t my fault or theirs for that matter. I have RBF; a pervasive, seemingly permanent sour look on ones face.

My mother, sister Marlene, and Me

It would be very easy to blame genetics.  My mother always seemed to look sad or angry or a bit of both. I could explain that it’s my facial muscles or congenital frown lines that betray my true feelings. Who knew that a pensive look could be so misunderstood?

RBF has been described as having a mouth that might curl slightly downward.  Maybe the brows are furrowed, the lips a bit pursed and the eyes aimed forward in a deadpan stare. It’s called a ‘resting bitch face’ and it’s for real. It’s like a permanent frown you don’t even know you have until called out on it.

Normally I would ask others not to judge me by my looks.  Yet there is one exception that I have to guard against. Sharon would be the first to advise me against playing poker, skip-bo or any other card game for that matter. A poker face I do not have. Feelings, emotions, attitudes, prejudices and the likes all seem to wash over my face without my ever being aware of it. It’s like a rich tapestry of emotions revealed for the entire world to see.

If there were a silver lining to that cloud that passes for my normal expression it would be the flip side of RBF.  I’ve been told there is intensity about me when I speak on any subject I’m passionate about. It speaks volumes of the interest, enthusiasm, and passion I feel for my subject matter.

Recently I gave a presentation about my writing to a large audience.  My RBF came across as true passion for storytelling and the craft of writing. The audience loved it. Any place else outside of that speech they might have wanted to lock me up as a threat.

So RBF is a fact of life.  As I get older and wrinkles slowly slide across my face I guess there will be even more frown lines to contend with. I could Botox my problem lines away but that’s not the answer. I could practice ‘downward face’ which is defined as restorative facial yoga. This exercise is supposed to deliver more blood flow into your face to stimulate the muscles. Then it is supposed to relax the face through the use of focused attention. I could also play mind-games to focus on the positive in my life. A continuous positive attitude would help but I’ve got enough on my plate without having to mind-set my way through each day.

Maybe the answer lies in pondering life’s challenges in private and practice awareness in public.  It could be a more conscious effort to put on a happy face or at least not let my true emotions reveal themselves.

Or perhaps I could just be myself.  I’ve lived with me for so many years I’ve gotten used this old mug staring back at me each morning. It’s neither a bad face nor a sad one. I’ve just got a lot on my mind and more I want to stuff in there on a daily basis.

Awareness is probably the best answer along with a more conscious effort to smile even if it means feeling strange most of the time.  Those pesky nuns could have been on to something way back in grade school. They said to “Turn that frown upside down.” Sounds like maybe they had it right after all. Who knew?