Today's MOZEN: Small Steps

Words and photo by F LoBuono

The world is a hard place. Very hard. And, it seems to be getting harder - harder to laugh, harder to smile, harder to love, harder to live. I'm not sure WHY.

Perhaps, there are just too many of us inhabiting this planet to really get along. Although social animals, humans also need space to thrive. Studies show that when a stranger stands too close to us our bodies react negatively. Our respiration and heart rates increase. We are uncomfortable. And, if you live or work in a major metropolitan area like I do, it is extremely difficult to avoid strangers - lots of them. So, the shear volume of humans makes for an extremely competitive environment. And, competition means stress. We compete for everything - spots in line, reservations, jobs, apartments, schools, and even parking spaces. Just attempting an alternate traffic merge can be a lesson in patience and altruism. The stress to drive home at rush hour is usually enough to turn me into a quivering mass of jelly. It's hurry here, rush there. There are days when we don't seem to have enough time to catch our breath. This hustle and bustle leaves us little time for reflection and relaxation. This lack of introspection and renewal makes people mean spirited. If we don't have time to be good to ourselves, how, then, are we to be generous of spirit to others?

This intense competition has also changed our value system. Traits like honesty, integrity, loyalty, modesty, intelligence, and compassion have been replaced with less desirable ones like greed, avarice, conceit, and gluttony. It's easier to be hard. Altruism, in the face of these trying times, is difficult to practice. When we are struggling to survive, it is much harder to think about giving to others. This is not unreasonable. However, as a society we suffer when we act in this way. We lose our collective will to affect positive change. This creates the so-called Law of the Jungle mentality - survival of the fittest. But, the strength of any society lies with the ability of the strong to care for the weak. However, we are not doing that. We seem to worship the strong and despise the weak. Our fascination with celebrities, regardless of their real talent,or intentions, is more evidence of this thinking. MANY more people are familiar with Kim Kardashian than they are with Mother Theresa! Donald Trump, an unabashed, over aggressive, narcissist, who frequently distorts his own credentials is actually leading the other GOP Presidential candidates by a significant margin. Why? Is he about compassion and fairness leading to a great society? Hell, no! He's all about the traits we used to disparage - greed, dishonesty, racism, and sexism. Yet, he leads in the polls. Why? Because in today's hard world it's easier to condemn than it is to build. And, he's damned good at condemnation.

We also worship guns without real thought as to what they REALLY represent. Guns are weapons. Their purpose and point, whether in aggression or in defense, is to kill. Yet, there are many who believe that gun ownership is a god-given right and anyone who would suggest their removal must be dealt with quickly and severely. But, why? Why are we so afraid that guns have become part of the American DNA? Thousands are killed in gun violence every year. Still we lack the will to stop it.

We've lost confidence in our police. Despite the fact that most members of law enforcement do an excellent job, too many have inflicted serious damage on our communities, particularly those of color. It seems that as our society has become more violent, so have the police. It makes me wonder which one is in response to the other. Did the police become more violent and reactive in response to the behavior of the people? Or, is the opposite true? One way or the other, our relationship with the police has changed. Where we once knew the neighborhood policemen by his name, we now have to deal with nameless, faceless, drones in combat gear.

Bad news seems to be everywhere. We are barraged by it. It's gore galore! Our TVs, radios, newspapers, and the Internet are absolutely filled with horrific stories of violence and abuse. The old TV adage of if it bleeds, it leads is still very much in vogue. ISIS alone is the stuff of nightmares. The images of their barbaric acts further confirm that world has become an even harder place. School shootings, movie theater massacres, church murders, arson, and rape dominate the headlines - ALL OF THE TIME. The twenty-four hour news cycle has insured us that we will see every bit of bad news any time we so choose to look.

It's enough to make a grown man cry - and, I often do. It's can be downright depressing. Some days, when I think of all the ills in the world, I get so down I feel like I'm lower than whale shit. There just seems to be no way to stem the tide. Often, the world doesn't need gravity - because it just sucks so much. It can all be so overwhelming.

So, what are we to do? Do we hide our heads in the sand and pray that things will get better? Do we sleep for a few years and hope that when we get up, the world will be OK? As individuals we are far too small to hope to change the whole world. But, we don't have to change the WHOLE world. We just have to change OUR own, little world. When I'm feeling overwhelmed I often do what most of us do - retreat. I sleep more. I hide more. This can be effective, but only in the short term. We can't sleep forever. We can't hide forever. At some point, we need to get back in the world. When I do return, I find that the more I get involved with getting back to the business of helping others, the better I feel. And, again, it doesn't have to be a big or great thing. The little things can make all of the difference. Extend yourself to say "hello" even if you don't feel like it or it's a person you don't particularly care for. Make someone smile by giving them a small gift, especially when they don't expect it. Visit a sick friend. Call someone you haven't spoken to in a while. Tell someone that you love them. So much good is removed from the world by all the negativity we put into in. We can stop and even reverse that trend but putting a little good back into it, one small step at a time. We don't have to run. Small steps will get us there just the same.

When You Think About It: FAST FOOD.

Words and photo by F LoBuono

The more I see commercials about Fast Food, the more I realize how harmful it is in almost every way.

First, the nutritional value of their products is limited at best, destructive at worst. And, I don't care what their signature product may be; beef, chicken, or fish. They have all been raised, harvested or processed in some way as to virtually destroy any benefit they may have had in the first place. Study after study shows a product that's far less than it is advertised to be. Chicken contains almost everything BUT chicken. Beef is loaded with harmful growth hormones. Fish may contain mercury or other carcinogens. Then, it is normally prepared in the fastest, most efficient ways, like quick frying - one that usually robs the food of most of its essential nutritional value.

Then, the commercials for fast food restaurants would have us worship food - too much food. There is a word for that. It's called gluttony. Our fascination with food to the point of excess is clearly demonstrated with the spectacle of the Annual Fourth of July Hot Dog Eating Contest at Coney Island. But, we needn't wait until July to witness our fascination with excessive eating. Virtually ALL food commercials feature products that are simply too much! Americans wonder why we've become obese while ignoring all the messages barraging us to EAT MORE!. Carl's Junior, a hamburger purveyor from the Southwest is particularly egresses. They sell us SEX and GLUTTONY. Their commercials feature a mostly naked woman seductively about to chomp on an over-sized bacon cheeseburger. The actor Vig Raimes hawks Arby's proclaiming They Have The Meats! Now, if an entire pizza isn't enough, you can get the whole thing surrounded with bacon - or, one with a dozen hot dogs baked into the crust. Really? Really.

If this wasn't bad enough, generally, the commercials usually associate eating their food with a certain lack of sophistication, if not outright stupidity. Sonic is a classic example. Two friends sit in the front of a car and exchange inane comments about Sonic's food. Some, I'm sure, may find it clever. I find it vapid. One outfit suggests that Americans are so in love with bacon we fantasize about it as a cologne. They seem to be saying the less you think about it, the more you will like their food. And, this is EXACTLY right - because if you did, you wouldn't eat it!

Lastly, there is no consideration for WHERE the food comes from. As I mentioned, you can now get a whole pizza surrounded with four feet of bacon. In fact, we've become obsessed with bacon. One commercial follows a young man around as his whole world becomes infused with bacon. We can get double and triple beef burgers. Again, Arby's (yes, the place that has The Meats) pitchman, Raimes, encourages parents, should their kids ask them where meat comes from, to tell them Arby's. His voice appears over the video of various sliced meats. Of course, the implication is that it is not ripped from the flesh of living animals, but is served in a nice, neat bun by Arby's. Well, folks, it's not that clean! ALL of these fast food entities use animals that are FACTORY FARMED. That is, the animals are raised in deplorable conditions and then slaughtered in the most cruel fashion. People don't want to hear this, but it IS the reality. Bacon does not grow on trees. It is ripped from the backs of living, intelligent creatures. Obviously, these fast food joints market their products so they you will never make the connection. After all, we ALL love bacon - right?

So, when you think about it, what's the point? The food is cheap and accessible. But, the commercials are lame and the food is bad. We need to make the right choices. When we do, we can affect change - not only in ourselves but in our society, as well. Some of us already have and it has made a difference. Because of public pressure places like McDonalds have begun to change their product and how it is marketed. There is more emphasis on the overall quality of the food - how it is raised, how it is prepared, AND how it is marketed.  Those lame commercials touting stupidity and gluttony are still out there. By the nature of the business, I suppose those elements will always be a part of it. But, we have the power to change it. Once again, we only need the will.

Today's MOZEN: More Than A Ball

Words and photo by F LoBuono

It sits on my window sill among my nick-knacks, do-dads, and other oddities. If one takes the time to really look at this eclectic mix of collectibles, you can garner a pretty good idea of how my brain works - lots going on there. But unlike most of the objects, which are a matter of mere whimsy, this one has very special significance. In all the years and all the games I have attended at Yankee Stadium, it is the one and only baseball I have managed to take away from the field of play. In my father's handwriting, it carries the date; July 24th, 1962 and the final score: Boston 2 Yankees 5. What made this moment truly special and Zen-like is that, despite passing it virtually every day, I very rarely stop to read it. It's just, well, there. However, for some unknown reason, I decided to stop today. When I did read it, a great big smile broke across my face - it just happened to be the 53rd anniversary of having gotten it! It's showing it's age, but you can still clearly make out my father's handwriting. It made me reminisce about my father and the wonderful way we secured that rare trophy.

I was only seven, but I have such a clear recollection of that day. It was hot and beautiful, much like it is today.Excitement enveloped the stadium even before we entered it. The barkers were selling programs. Long lines of fans shuffled into their respective entrance gates. As we entered, the sound changed. The blare of the streets outside gave way to the more muffled, swirling roar of the crowd filing in. It was just my father and me (my brother was only four and too young). Filled with a combination of fear, awe, and excitement, I held tightly to his hand. We seemed to climb forever inside the dark catacombs of the stadium's bowels. Occasionally, I would catch a glimpse of the stadium's glaring innards through one of the many entrance portals we passed. The contrast between the bright light of the field contrasted with the gloomy darkness of the stadium hallways increased my excitement to find our seats.

Checking out our ticket stubs, my father finally indicated that the portal ahead would lead us to our seats. I remember the euphoria of exiting the dark hallway to become absolutely bathed in the golden sunshine that was pouring down onto the field. I don't think that I had ever seen anything as green as the playing field that was spreading out before us. We had emerged from concrete corridors to find a lush paradise! At that moment, I understood the true meaning of the word ball park. 

My father showed the attendant our stubs and he led us to our seats. Wearing a mop-like glove, he cleaned one and then the other. My father tipped him, and we finally sat down. I was instantly mesmerized by the aura of the game. It was just more colorful than I imagined. In 1962, we were lucky to have a TV at all, much less a color one. So, whatever games we did watch at home were in good ol' black-and-white. We had to rely on magazines like Sport and Sports Illustrated to see our favorite teams in color. But, no matter how good the photography may have been, it was nothing like seeing those colors LIVE!

I don't remember the specifics of the game, but it must have been about the seventh inning when the Yankees decided to pinch hit for the starting pitcher (this was in the days before the designated hitter). At that time, the Yankees had one of the best pinch hitters in the game - Hector Lopez. I remember hearing legendary announcer Bob Sheppard call Lopez into the game:

Now, pinch hitting, #11 Hector Lopez. #11!

I must be honest, I don't remember the count, but, suddenly, Lopez fouled off a pitch and it came screaming right towards us! My father jumped up with the rest of the crowed to see if he could snare it. In fact, my father did get a hand on it. But, it was traveling so hard and fast that it glanced off his thumb and rolled away. This created a mad dash for the loose ball. There were two young guys sitting next to us. They must have been nineteen or twenty and they were drawing a bead on it! Suddenly a hand clutching the ball appeared out of the scrum. It was one of our neighbors. Triumphantly, with pats of congratulations on his back, he returned to his seat. I started to cry - dad, you were so close! My father tried to console me but to no avail. My grief could not be assuaged or concealed. The young man who captured the ball saw me and leaned over extending his arm. In his hand was the coveted prize. He dropped it in my lap and said: Here kid. Don't cry. Your father touched it first anyway. I couldn't believe it! No one had asked him to do that. And, we KNOW how rare it is to actually catch a foul ball. So, why? I was too young to ask and he never offered an explanation. My father thanked him and we watched the remainder of the game together, prize clutched firmly in my hand.

I have never forgotten the kindness of that young man. And, I never tire of telling that story. It has to be good karma for him. And as for that fateful baseball, obviously, I still have it. As I wrote above, it's starting to show it's age- as am I. My father is long gone. Perhaps, the young man who gave it back to us is, too. I'll never know. It's not important - because even if that baseball fades, the memory of that day never will.

Today's MOZEN: When Speeding is Not

Words and photo by F LoBuono

Messages come to us in various ways, some obvious, others not so much. In my blog postings I refer to those that are not so readily apparent as MOZEN, my amalgam of moment and zen. To my understanding, zen, in this application, refers to comprehending things at the most elemental level. In other words, it is a deep understanding of WHY things happen. When we have one of those moments of awareness, like the proverbial light bulb going off, we experience MOZEN.

Lately, the frequency of MOZEN seems to be increasing.  For example. recently, in a mad, frantic dash to get of the door of my apartment, a baseball cap saying relax on it fell off the rack and it hit me right on my head. That's MOZEN. And, that word, relax, seems to be the common theme.

I had another incident just the other day. I was driving back from my midnight shift in the City. It was early on a Sunday morning so traffic was relatively light. The road I was traveling, the Palisades Interstate Parkway, has a posted speed limit of 50 mph. However, in the fifteen plus years of almost daily travel on that road, I have virtually never traveled at just 50. And, no one else travels at that speed either. That morning was no exception. I was pacing along with most of the other vehicles, traveling about 65 mph in the right lane. I was not driving aggressively. In fact, I didn't feel like I stood out from the other cars traveling around me in any way at all. Suddenly, I noticed a car right on my rear bumper. I was already in the right land, so there was no way for me to pull over and let him by. Then, I realized that it was no ordinary vehicle - it was a police car and he was "tracking me". For the life of me I couldn't figure out WHY. In my mind, even though I was exceeding the posted speed limit so was everyone else! Quite frankly, it was making me nervous as hell. Sure that he was about to pull me over, I started looking for the important documents I would need when he did. My heart pounding, I resigned myself to my fate and began to practice what I would say - what did I do, officer? I wasn't traveling any faster then anyone else? Why?

Well, much to my surprise, he didn't pull me over. Instead, I heard a disembodied voice. It was his PA system: THE SPEED LIMIT ON THIS ROAD IS 50!

He didn't say another word, slowed his patrol car and pulled off to his left. My heart was still pounding when I took a deep breath and let out a long sigh. PHEW, that was weird! Even though I was driving in accordance with the speed and on pace of the other vehicles, technically, I WAS speeding. He could have issued me a summons - but, he did not. I was still shaking a bit from the adrenaline as I approached my exit for the final leg of my trip home.

When I got back to my place, I was still a bit spooked. I've been under a lot of pressure lately from various sources and it was effecting me in less than positive ways. I have made some very poor personal decisions because of it. Some of this stress is generated by circumstances beyond my control. However, much of it lies within my state of mind. And, that is something we should (and can) have in control - at least most of the time. So, what could I take from this? How could it be my latest MOZEN?

I called my spirit guide, Cynthia, to share the story and see what insight she might be able to provide. I was still spooked and was looking for an answer as to why the cop tracked me in the first place. Cynthia said that was the wrong place to be looking. She suggested that to find the MOZEN I should look for the message within the act. She explained:

You are seeing that policeman in the wrong light. You see him as "breaking your balls", asking why did he "hassle" you? Well, he didn't hassle you. In fact, he HELPED you. He was an angel - a messenger delivering a most important dispatch - SLOW down - take control of your life! Technically, he could have given you a ticket. You WERE speeding. But, that was NOT the message he was sent to convey. Now, LISTEN!

This, my friends, is MOZEN. The messages are everywhere. We only need the vision to see them.

Photo Gallery: Grill Masters.

All photos were made at the Nyack Classic Car Rally and are the property of F LoBuono

Today's Photo Gallery: The Dancer

The following photos were made in sequence during the Walk to the Beat Festival in Nyack - at The Hopper House Garden.

Today's MOZEN: If The Hat Fits

I created the word MOZEN as an amalgam of two words: moment and zen. It's my feeble attempt to illustrate one of those rare, magical instants in time when everything kind of comes together. Often, it can be an esoteric concept. However, sometimes, it is simple and almost literal. Here's an example:

It was another frenetic, frantic, Frankie day. In my world, multi-tasking is for mere mortals. I'm always trying to multi-task multi-tasking. In my effort to cram as many activities into as short a period as possible, I was dressing myself WHILE I was picking out the clothes from my closet. I grabbed a shirt from the rack while I was planning what hat to wear. Suddenly, without warning, this hat, which I have not touched in years, fell from one of the top closet shelves and hit me square on top of the head.

THAT, my friends, is MOZEN!

Today's MOZEN: A Meditation on Life and Death

Words and photo by F LoBuono

It's the subject no one wants to talk about. In fact, the very thought of it freaks most people out. But, death is with us every day and in every way. It is the great equalizer and the one thing that we truly have in common. Indeed, EVERYONE and EVERY THING dies. So, why is it so difficult for us to come to terms with, much less discuss it?

It's amazing how much death is around us we and hardly even take notice. In the warmer months, how many dead animal carcasses do we observe lying by the side of almost any road? If the windows are open we may notice the stench of death and curl up our noses, but do we really connect with the fact that pile of decaying flesh was once a living creature? I would venture to think not. Every time we sit to have a meal, something has died to provide us nourishment. Do we ever take a moment to think about the life of the animal that was sacrificed so that we may live? Hardly. Everyone we know, everyone we meet, every animal or thing we encounter will pass away. No one gets out of here alive. All of us are dying a little bit every day that we live! But, most of us are in denial.

If death is every bit as much a part of our lives as, well, living, why are we so afraid of it? Certainly, life is precious or most of us would not cling to it so fiercely. When confronted by death, ALL creatures will fight in some way to preserve their own lives. Even a fish will flop about a boat's deck in an effort to regain the water and life. One of the basic principals of most, if not all, the world's great religions is that the reward for a life well lived is the chance for another, more perfect one. But, even with the promise that the end of life is not a total ending, most of us still fear our own deaths. We simply do not KNOW what happens. Even people whose faith teaches them to believe in a so-called "afterlife" may still dread the thought of their own demise. I believe that the our fear may lie with the very idea of non-existence. To "not be" is terrifying for most people. We have such a strong sense of ourselves that even the thought of nothingness is enough to send chills up our spine. Even the promise of an afterlife is not enough to release most of us from the terror of not knowing what REALLY happens at the time of our passing.

So, what do we do about this death? Most of us tend to ignore it until it is thrust upon us when we are finally confronted with our own, or a loved one's mortality. It's only then that we get serious about it. However, by that time it's usually too late, we are now in panic mode. We really need to deal with death in some way every day. We need to make it a part of our lives - because it already is.  In this way, it becomes our companion and we can gradually lose our fear of it.

Many cultures and religions do this in many different ways - some are better at it than others. For example, Mexican culture features a mix of Christian doctrine and pagan ritual in The Day of The Dead. Mexican's make up their faces to resemble skulls, not to frighten but to connect with their dead ancestors. Whole families spend time picnicking in graveyards near the headstones of relatives to continue to share in death what they once did together in life. In this way, they remove the "stigma" of death and make it "accessible", if you will, to all. Buddhists believe (and rightly so) that life and death are two sides of the same coin - one cannot exist without the other. Therefore, if we are not afraid of life, we should not be afraid of death.

We must find a way to strike a balance between life and death. Perhaps, William Butler Yates grasped and expressed this concept most brilliantly in his poem An Irish Airman foresees his Death:

I balanced all, brought all to mind,
The years to come seemed a waste of breath,
A waste of breath the years behind
In balance with this life, this death.

I believe by this he meant to remind us to live completely in the moment. In doing so we live more fully without the specter of death hanging over our heads. For as we live, we die. They are really one and the same. So, it makes no sense to cling to one and fear the other. LIVE!

Today's MOZEN: A Self-Portrait of the Artist 7/13/2015

Words and photo by f LoBuono

Why?

I've been asking myself that question an awful lot lately. Why do I do this when it seems to make so little difference? I've written thousands of words - probably tens of thousands, in fact. I've even been fairly widely published. Yet, in all the hundreds of articles, commentaries, poetry, stories, and non-fiction that I have composed, I've not sold a single word. Not one. None. Zip. Zero. Zilch. Sure, I get some people to read my stuff but, in the final analysis, it ain't many!!

In the last twenty five years or so, I've must have made tens of thousands of photographs - from many locations around the world. With all due modesty, some of them may even be quite good. I have also mounted a number of gallery shows to feature my work. Still, I have never sold a single photograph. Not one. None. Zip. Zero. Zilch.

So, why bother? Really. It takes time and effort. It can take a lot of time and enormous effort. Since it is not my livelihood, (i.e. I have a REAL job that makes the money I need to do trivial things like eat), I have to MAKE time to do these things. I don't just sit at my computer and regurgitate a story. I don't just whip out my camera and make a photograph - I CRAFT these things. Articles have to be conceived, written, and then edited, edited ,edited. It can take hours, if not days. Photos have to be made then transferred from camera to computer, color corrected, and organized/edited. This can also take hours, if not days.

Again, WHY do it then?

The most common response to that questions is; because you are compelled to. I suppose that this is the simplest, most direct, and, probably, most accurate answer. There seems to be something within my DNA that makes me go against my better judgement and continue to do things that take time and apparently return little. But, I just can't quit. I've wanted to - so many times, but as the Sinatra song says, my heart just won't buy it. And, so, I continue. I don't think that I even know HOW to quit. Still, a little recognition for all the effort might go a long way. EVERY writer or photograph wants recognition. If they say otherwise, I believe that they are lying. Recognition is not the SOLE motivator, but it is ONE. If we did not feel our work worthy of presentation we would not make it available. Even the great Michelangelo carved his name into the sash of his masterpiece, La Pieta, because he heard that another artist would attempt to take credit for its creation! Yes, we would like to recognized and, when possible, paid for it, too.

Still, I continue.

But, there are other factors besides mere compulsion (or recognition). At least there is for me. It's about doing the right thing - always. I suppose that the title of a song by the Irish musician, Paul Brady, probably sums it up best: "The World is What You Make It". And, I believe that whole heartily. We can let the circumstances of life overwhelm us or, we can use whatever talent we have to make it a better place. When I see or hear of injustice, I cannot simply look away. I will not hide my head in the sand. In fact, it usually has quite the opposite effect. It makes me passionate. It is a call to action that I will heed as quickly as possible. I will not leave for someone else something that I know I should be doing myself. Whether it is with the written word or the frozen moment of a photograph, I will use whatever modest skills that I have to drive the conversation forward.

Martin Luther King said, our lives begin to end the day we become silent about the things that matter.  Well, MLK has nothing to worry about me.

Today's MOZEN: Keep Up or Move Over

F LoBuono

Arguing with an illogical person is like getting stuck behind someone driving too slowly in the left lane of any given highway. It makes you wonder; are they even AWARE that the law designates the left lane for PASSING, i.e. higher speeds? Or, is it that they simply do not care? One way or the other, it's frustrating as hell. You pull up behind them, hoping that they'll notice. Nope. You flash your lights, thinking that the universal symbol to MOVE OVER might be effective. Nothing. So, you break the law by passing them on the right. Then, they give YOU dirty looks. And, it's more than just an inconvenience - it can be dangerous.

Trying to reason with a person who will not, or CANNOT, conceive of rational concepts is just as frustrating - and dangerous. We are left to ponder if that person is simply not capable of thinking beyond there own "left lane"? Or, is a matter of them having the ability to understand, but lack the will to? Just as one car driving too slowly in the left lane affects the flow of ALL traffic, so does inflexible thinking disrupt the flow of the cognitive process. Progress is slowed when people are intractable.

It happens all of the time. Take the current debate on Same Sex Marriage. Despite legal ruling after ruling in favor of allowing same sex couples to marry, too many people are still stuck in the left lane.They refuse to "keep up". However, this time, it's a little different. Instead of being forced to "break the law" and "go around by passing on the right", now the force of public opinion if so great that the slow pokes are forced to abide by the law and MOVE OVER!!

Now, if we could only get those left lane crawlers on the highway to move the hell over . . .

Today's MOZEN: A Meditation on the 4th of July 2015

Words and photo by F LoBuono

As we finish celebrating our 239th year of independence, more and more Americans are expressing deep concerns about the apparent divisions within our society. We, as a people, pride ourselves not only on our fierce sense of personal freedom but our unity as a Country, as well. Today, many believe that our rights as individuals are being infringed upon and that the schisms between white and black, poor and rich, and city and rural are just too great to be overcome.

However, if you really study American history you will find that, in reality, we are a country of bickerers - and we always have been! Right from the beginning our so-called Founding Fathers couldn't agree on just about anything. Some of the States' delegations to the Continental Congress wanted to pursue a resolution with England, so long as she addressed their legitimate concerns while others wanted a complete break. Most of the Southern states distrusted the New England ones, feeling their demands too severe. We feel this North/South rift even today. The delegates couldn't even agree weather to leave the windows in the meeting hall open or not - some argued leaving them open allowed flies in, while others complained of the stifling heat without them open!

At much as we pride ourselves in our unity (heck, we're the UNITED States), we must not forget that we fought a terrible, costly civil war to keep it that way. And, despite the 150 years since that bloody conflict, we still feel its effects even today (see Charleston, SC).

So, where does this leave us? Do we quit, throw our hands in the air and claim "things will never change"? Do we accept things simply as they are because "that's the way it's always been"? Or, do we call on another American attribute - getting shit done - to propel us forward. Despite our differences, Americans have more in common than not. We may bicker, but when things need to get done, especially in a crisis, no one does it better than America. WWII and its Greatest Generation of Americans proved that.

But, today, we seem to have lost sight of that. We've forgotten how large and diverse this Country truly is. It's not called the Melting Pot without reason. When so many cultures are thrown into the same pot a bouillabaisse of ideas and thought is bound to be created. And, as is the American way, everyone wants, and deserves, a say in how this Country is run and how it will affect them. It's always been that way AND it must remain so.

We need to understand that by our very nature, by our very existence, disagreements are a natural process. It's HOW it works. The key to MAKING it work is respect. We must find a way to respect one another, especially when we may so vehemently and passionately disagree. It's not easy. It never has been and it never will be. But, it's one of the keys that makes us so damned strong. From discord our Founding Fathers managed to create the boldest political/social experiments the world has ever known.

There is a story of a heated argument between two key figures in our independence, Thomas Jefferson and John Adams. Usually allies, Jefferson and Adams were at odds over certain wording in the Declaration of Independence. The debate got very heated between the two, with both men coming very close to completely losing their tempers. After the exchange, both took to their respective seats. However, after a short time, Jefferson got up from his and sat right next to Adams. He didn't say a word. He just sat there. Adams, and the rest, got the message: they could disagree - vehemently - but they were bounded by their brotherhood and commitment to their cause. They found a way. We must do the same.

Today's MOZEN: Take A Moment

Words and photo by F LoBuono

It was another magnificent dawn over the Tappan Zee. The golden glow that dominated the skyline predicated the arrival of a blazing sun. It was beginning to stream through my apartment, making it awash in gold. As is my habit, I rise early, often to bathe in sun-lit moments just like this one. Besides, anyone who knows me acknowledges my hyperactive nature. Sleep is just a temporary break in the action for me. Today was no exception.

So, I was ready to grab my camera and hustle to the river's edge and make some photos. Timing, for obvious reasons, is critical when attempting to catch a sunrise - to hesitate means to fail. But, gradually, I began to have a change in heart. Even though a Hudson River sunrise never ceases to fill my soul, I have experienced them so many times in my life. And, considering the rather kinetic nature of my life these days, it "dawned" on me (pun intended) that, perhaps, the last thing I needed to do was breathlessly dash to the river to make some photos that I've already made many times before. Besides, my apartment was so peaceful. The rising sun was penetrating my stained glass window, adding even more color to the fiery gold. In addition to the early hour, it's also a holiday for most, making my block even more traffic free than usual. The only sound was the slight rustling of the leaves in the gently breeze and the cacophony of birds greeting the dawn. It was wonderful. I wanted to drink it.

I decided to return to my bed. I wasn't really tired, but that was not why I was returning. If I fell asleep, fine. But, I was more interested in savoring the moment. I've needed to take my life down a notch and this was a perfect opportunity to do so. I seized it. I lay on by back in shorts and tee shirt and gently closed my eyes. I tried to clear my mind and just feel my senses - all of them. And, I did. I felt the birds celebrate the return of the light. I felt the gentle breeze as it delicately moved my shear curtains. I became more aware of my rhythmic breathing: my lungs inhaling and exhaling became my metronome. My blood pressure decreased and I was at peace. Eventually, I did drift off and slept a bit.

After some time drifting in the shadow world, it was time to return. After all, as much as we all would like to connect with ourselves as much as possible, there is a "real" world out there that must be dealt with. So,I rose and made a pot of coffee. After a couple of cups, I brushed my teeth, washed my face, ran a comb through my hair and headed for the street. There's work to be done.