A Lady asked an old street vendor: “How much do you sell your eggs for?” The old man replied“0.50¢ an egg, madam.” The Lady responded, “I’ll take 6 eggs for $2.00 or I’m leaving.” The old salesman replied, “Buy them at the price you want, Madam. This is a good start for me because I haven’t sold a single egg today and I need this to live.”
She bought her eggs at a bargain price and left with the feeling that she had won. She got into her fancy car and went to a fancy restaurant with her friend. She and her friend ordered what they wanted. They ate a little and left a lot of what they had asked for. So they paid the bill, which was $150. The ladies gave $200 and told the fancy restaurant owner to keep the change as a tip.
This story might seem quite normal to the owner of the fancy restaurant, but very unfair to the egg seller. The question it raises is;
Why do we always need to show that we have power when we buy from the needy?
And why are we generous to those who don’t even need our generosity?
I once read somewhere that a father used to buy goods from poor people at a high price, even though he didn’t need the things. Sometimes he paid more for them. His children were amazed. One day they asked him “why are you doing this dad?” The father replied: “It’s charity wrapped in dignity.”
Being A Caring Catalyst won’t cost you anything but it’ll make you richer than any lottery winning. Invest in what compounds by one kind moment to the next one and it’ll no longer be about mere facts and figures, because it’ll figure much more than any known fact. . . .
MAKE SURE YOUR CUP OF KINDNESS
IS ALWAYS FULL ENOUGH
FOR ANOTHER GULP
SO THAT OTHERS
MAY DRINK DEEPLY
WITH A QUENCHING
THAT’LL NEVER KNOW
ANY OTHER THIRST. . .
FOUND/TONIGHT
MARCH 19, 2018 was when this was first posted on YouTube and with well over 20,210,965 views I question just what boulder I’ve been living under, especially when it popped up on my YouTube feed, maybe not so randomly this past week. Hmmm.
I really like when certain things come across my YouTube feed without me trying to search for them. When I get something like this, it’s almost as if it’s a divine intervention or message that I need to hear at that time I need to hear itwhich means that as you’re reading this blog post this morning it may be the time that you need to hear or see you too; especially if you weren’t even aware of its existent much like this under the boulder dweller.
Two my favorite singers and talented, songwriters, Ben Platt, and Lin- Manuel Miranda combine to mash songs from Hamilton and Evan Hansen together…why? Not merely because it sounds good, because they want to bring a message of Hope. From what? For what? A better world? So I did a quick Google Search to get the “WHAT FOR” of this song and:
A portion of the proceeds from this record will be going to the March For Our Lives Initiative. Donate now at https://marchforourlives.com/.
WE ARE ALL IN THE SAME ORCHESTRA
PLAYING THE SAME SYMPHONY
MUCH-NESS (Continued)
John D. Rockefeller, the founder of the Standard Oil Company, the first billionaire of the United States of America and once the richest man on Earth was asked by a reporter, “How much money is enough?” He calmly replied, “Just a little bit more”
Is John D. right? Is JUST A LITTLE BIT MORE, really enough or is there ever an ENOUGH-NESS that’ll satisfy. . .When Rockefeller was asked this question he had a net worth of about 1% of the entire US economy. He owned 90% of all the oil and gas industry of his time. Compared to today’s rich guys, Rockefeller makes Bill Gates, Jeff Besos, Elon Musk and Warren Buffet look like paupers; and yet he wanted
“JUST A LITTLE MORE.”
Maybe before we can know how much is ENOUGH, we’ve got to define
E N O U G H
. . .and dare consider
ENOUGH
is more than just an amount
(but also an attitude)
MUCH-NESS
HOW MUCH
is never a question
to be Asked
yet is always Answered
HOW MUCH
isn’t found in an
Enough-ness
Much-ness
is daring to Give
a More-ness
than you can expect
to ever receive in a
Getting-ness
MUCH-NESS
is when a
Giving-ness
means so much more
than a piddle Getting-ness
MUCH-NESS
takes on an unimaginable hue
that can’t be found
on a painter’s palate
but always at the end
of your Soul’s brush
waiting to paint anew
the landscape scene
that completes us all
as it becomes a
Giving-ness
eclipsing the horizon of any
Getting-nesses
. . .S O M E T I M E S
the shiny empty plate
waiting to be
SHARED
more than
PASSED
is all the
ENOUGH-NESS
necessary
I F
it’s indeed more than a
passing partaking. . .
May your ENOUGH-NESS be Another’s as well. . .
MUCH-NESS
HOW MUCH
is more than a question
is more than a quest
is more than a hope
is more than a wish
is more than a dream
IT IS A DIFFERENCE
. . .maybe the real question is:
WHAT DIFFERENCE DOES IT MAKE IN YOU. . .
What Is Basic Income and
How Does It Support Well-Being?
Research suggests that providing everyone with money to live could reduce poverty and inequality, and help people make better life choices.
In October 1936, 200 men marched from South Tyneside to London to protest against the poverty and unemployment in their town, Jarrow.
Nearly a century later, Jarrow is taking part in a small pilot schemeto test how universal basic income (UBI) could tackle financial insecurity and health inequalities—which continue to plague the town. Under the scheme, two groups—15 people in Jarrow and another 15 in East Finchley, London—will receive £1,600 a month for two years.
This micropilot will produce new U.K. data on the impact of the basic income in these communities, particularly the stories and experiences of the people that participate. This can be used for further research on the effects of UBI on a larger scale in these communities. This will help show if there is a case for a national basic income, or at least more comprehensive U.K. trials.
UBI generally involves giving a regular cash payment to all adult citizens. It differs from existing welfare systems that are conditional on people’s assessed needs.
In this pilot, participants are paid the same amount as a separate Welsh government pilot that involves people leaving care. The Jarrow and East Finchley pilot is focused on a broader, locally representative pool of people in each of these communities.
The project has been based on our research on basic incomes, which suggests that tackling financial insecurity is essential to promoting public health. This is a particularly important issue now because the effects of COVID and the cost of living crisis on Britons who are employed, self-employed, or who run small businesses have left many people at risk of destitution.
Financial insecurity has risen to levels unseen in generations. Evidence from the Child Poverty Action Group shows millions of Britons face fuel poverty, while the campaign group End Fuel Poverty Coalition found that 1,047 people died in England from living in cold, damp homes in December 2022.
The Bank of England’s commitment to a gradual and sustained increase in interest rates has exacerbated the rate of repossessions without addressing inflation caused by factors largely beyond consumers’ control.
This has created a second pandemic that will only get worse: mental ill health. Our recent report shows the only way we can bring this current crisis to an end is through bold interventions.
Universal basic income (UBI) is a radical but, we believe, feasible alternative to the existing, failing welfare system. It could reduce poverty to unprecedented levels, address inequality within and between regions, and massively improve the nation’s health.
A radical approach
The U.K. government has committed to realign health care so that it’s not just about treating the ill, but preventing illness in the first place. One of the best ways to do this is to eradicate poverty and reduce inequality.
The idea of the state redistributing resources by providing an adequate, regular, and predictable payment to citizens is radical. It turns the discussion about welfare on its head: from a payment to a select few with no other means of satisfying their needs, to a payment that protects those in, as well as out, of work from the threat of destitution.
One of the key, and often overlooked, consequences of this is its potential contribution to public health. Basic income set at an adequate level could boost public health in three ways.
First, by reducing poverty, it would increase people’s ability to satisfy their basic needs by helping them to afford better food and housing.
Second, by reducing financial inequality, it would also give people the option to leave abusive, damaging environments. This would reduce stressand stress-related illnesses. The pandemic has highlighted the dangers of people being unable to escape these environments, and the potential long-term impacts on health are significant.
And, third, by giving people a more predictable and secure future, it would increase their perception of their lifespan. This could lead to changes in behavior in the process. People with clearer long-term futures may be less likely to engage in hedonistic activities, such as drug and alcohol misuse, and more likely to engage in exercise and health-promoting activity, according to our research.
While there are examples of people “binge spending” following large benefit payments, some evidence suggests that those that feel they have some kind of future ahead will spend money on activities that enhance their health, such as healthier eating and fitness. On the other hand, people facing destitution are more likely to engage in short-term, hedonistic behavior, since they feel unlikely to have to face the long-term consequences.
Such effects would be most keenly felt in those parts of the U.K., such as the north of England, midlands, and Wales, that suffer most from the low incomes, inequalities, and general hopelessness that contribute to ill health.
This generation’s equivalent of the NHS
The NHS made health care free at the point of use. Three decades after its implementation, the Labour government sought to understand why health inequality persisted.
The resulting report highlighted that people’s social and economic circumstances shaped their outcomes. To reduce health inequality, we need to deal with these circumstances, which have rapidly declined since the 2008 global financial crisis. And UBI can do this in the three ways outlined above.
Future generations may look back at recent discussions about UBIs with the same confusion we feel when thinking of opposition to the NHS in the 1940s.
The solutions Britain needs are just as far-reaching as those implemented in 1945. Basic income is one such solution that could be as popular and transformative as the NHS.
C H A N G E
is literally in your Hands. . .
How will you use it
o r
will you just
THROW IT AWAY
S P L A T
We did a lot of traveling last week, to Niagara Falls to Dayton with nary a time for a quick car wash and my car literally got BUGGED. The car wash couldn’t remove all of the mix mash of bug guts; it needed some more than unusual elbow grease and with sweating dripping down my face and slow diving off of the tip of my nose, I stood and wiped my face and THERE, there it was; a thought and then a flood of words that found its way into a poem, not just about bugs on a bumper and crusted across my windshield but about the randomness of our living and our dying; the vast unpredictability of
IT ALL. . . HENCE: SPLAT
Is it all willie nillie
some hocus-pocus predestinated Chance
A random bullet
Out of control car
Avalanche
Shark bite
A fallen tree limb
An elevator cable snap
Plane crash
All
wrong places at the wrongest of times
ALL so unmathematically
equating into a
SPLAT
No one ever sees coming
WE
like the Severely unsuspecting unnamed Bug
SPLATTED
It was never my intention to
harm, maime, Kill
Yet, just the same,
SPLAT
It ended up a glorious Yellow
but so very indistinguishable on my bumper
across my windshield
And Now
just like that
as I turned on the Shower
I spied a spider
frantically trying to get out
of the fast sucking swirlingly
towards the Drain—too late
for a rescue attempt
The Splat became a deadly Splash
Proving it’s always more than One Way
but always, still, A Way
S P L A T
What Pow, What Splash, What Kerplunk
SPLAT
Awaits us
If a bug, a flailing spider
not exempted
what of us
I don’t know
But make no mistake about
Knowing it does
THE STORY OF MY LIFE
So here’s the deal, this is the week of Erin’s and my anniversary.
37 Years
on Thursday
(and counting)
All three of my Blog posts this week will center around
ANNIVERSARIES
RELATIONSHIPS
OTHERNESS
that can never be achieved as a Solo Flier. . .
And though you may feel like getting an extra order of hotcakes
(with all of the syrup flowing)
just grab another cup of coffee
or a cold glass of iced-tea
and spend some intentional moments
with ONE
who makes moments Momentous. . .
AND FOR THE RECORD:
THERE’S NEVER ENOUGH SYRUP. . .
KEEP IT FLOWING
BEYOND RELATIVITY
When Albert Einstein met Charlie Chaplin in 1931, Einstein said, “What I admire most about your art is its universality. You do not say a word, and yet the world understands you.”
“It’s true.” Replied Chaplin, “But your fame is even greater. The world admires you, when no one understands you.”
BEYOND RELATIVITY
is not BEING a Caring Catalyst. . .
IT IS MAKING SOMEONE FEEL LIKE
THEY ARE IN THE PRESENCE OF ONE
WITHOUT SAYING A WORD
OR FULLY UNDERSTANDING
HOW YOU CAN MAKE THE HAIR STAND UP ON THEIR ARMS
AND TINGLE LIKE IN NO OTHER WAY
just by how you treat them
Pssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssst:
NEWS FLASH
It
Ain’t
ROCKET SCIENCE
(It can readily be proven but seldom is. . .CHANGE THAT!)
LIGHTING EACH OTHER HOME
This is a story I first heard from the gifted storyteller Laura Packer. I can’t say where it originated. I keep retelling it in my own way, because the world keeps needing to hear it.
In the beginning, there was only light and dark. During the day, the sky was bright white. No clouds, no blue. Just white. At night, the sky was completely black. No stars, no moon. Just black. And because this was the way the world was, you always stayed home. If you were ever caught far from your village when the sky went dark, you were never heard from again.
So, folks lived their entire lives in the same place, with the same people. And while they said they were happy living this way, in their heart of hearts they longed to see what they couldn’t see, to meet the people they suspected were out there but couldn’t meet. Yet they accepted that this was how the world was and would always be.
Then a certain girl came into the world. And this girl loved the world so much! During the white-sky hours, she’d explore and play as she wandered with her mother, gathering food for the family. In the black-sky hours, she’d listen to her father’s stories about the sights he saw while hunting around the village.
Each night, before she fell asleep, she’d say to her mother, “Mama, I want to visit other places. Please, will you take me? Can we go?”
And every night, her mother would say, “Oh, honey—we can’t! It isn’t safe. The world’s too dark. We’d get lost and never return!”
But you know how children are—how their dreams can creep into your heart and become your dreams too. So one night, when the girl asked, for the gazillionth time, “Mama, can we go? Please?” the woman said, “I’ll think about it.”
And she did. She thought for days as she gathered grasses and roots and berries to eat. She thought as she sat talking with the other women and as she listened to her husband’s stories. She thought as she wove reeds into baskets and thatched the roof of their house.
Then one night, while sitting with her family, gazing into the fire, she had an idea.
She got up and mixed water and clay. She made a pot from the mud. Then she made a lid for the pot. She placed these things in the fire and baked them until they were as hard as stone.
When the fire began to die out, she scooped up a potful of embers and covered it with the lid. She then lay down beside her daughter.
“Mama, can we go? Can we go?” the girl asked.
“I’m still thinking,” the mother said.
In the morning, the woman lifted the lid to look inside the pot. The embers were still glowing red. So that night when her daughter said, “Please, Mama, please—are you done thinking? Can we go?” the woman said, “Yes, in the morning we will go.”
As soon as the sky was white again, the mother and daughter packed up as much food and water as they could carry. They said their goodbyes. Then the woman took up her pot full of embers, and the two of them started walking.
They walked and they walked until the sky started to turn black. They stopped then and collected a pile of twigs and sticks. The mother poured out her embers on them. Soon they had a blazing fire. And when the sky was black-black, they sat around their fire, huddled as close as they could. From the darkness beyond their little ring of light came the growls and the howls of prowling animals. Just before they fell asleep, the mother put some live coals from the fire into her pot.
They woke up when the sky was white again. The woman dropped a few twigs into the pot to feed the embers. Then she and her daughter began to walk under the white-white sky. They sang and they told stories.
Just before the world went black-black again, they built another fire. They huddled close, listening to the night sounds and watching the sparks fly up.
Then the woman had an idea.
With the pot lid, she scooped up some coals from the fire. Then she flung them toward the sky, as far as she could. She was very strong, and those embers flew higher and higher until they stuck fast in the black.
And it was very good.
So the woman tossed up another lid-full of embers, this time back in the direction of their village. And those embers also stuck to the black.
Now her daughter wanted to try. Even she could send those embers flying. Before long, the way home was twinkling over half the sky.
Morning after morning, the mother and daughter continued their journey. And every night, they would cast more embers up into the sky, which was still black-black yet now sparkling as it never had before. The mother and daughter knew they’d never get lost.
After weeks of walking, they reached a village. The people there were astonished to see them.
“How did you get here?” they asked. “How did you not vanish in the dark nights?”
And the woman and her daughter showed the villagers the pot of coals. As soon as the world went black, they pointed out the path they had taken across the night sky.
“Throw some embers from your fires into the sky,” the woman told the villagers.
“Here,” her daughter said, “use the lid of our pot.”
And the villagers did.
The next day, the mother and daughter moved on. As they went, they always painted a shimmering path above them. And everywhere they went, they taught the people they met how to toss embers from their fires into the night sky.
So it is that we learned to light the way home for one another.
PROTECTED PRESENCE
It seems like it’s raining no where you happen to be in the World and even if the sun is shining, it’s a kind of rain that produces no rainbow, at least none with any ohhhh/ahhhhh breath-taking-stop-your-car-on-the-side-of-the-highway-take-a-bad-picture-kind-of-a-Rainbow; and at best if there’s anything good that can come from this kind of rain is someone willing to share their umbrella to hold space, to provide a protected presence that’s not so willingly given and even harder, at times, to accept.
Yeah, that kind of presence
For the past couple of years, one of the most requested presentations I do is called, HOLDING SPACE–WALKING EACH OTHER HOME, and like any of the presentations I’ve ever done, though done dozens of times, not one has ever been done the same way, twice. . .on purpose. That’s why I never PowerPoint or do hand-outs because even in the middle of a presentation I might tell a story, share a poem, provide an intervention that I haven’t done in previous presentations or may be in any future one to come.
And that’s how it was last night for the HOLDING SPACE presentation where not only CEU’s were provided for nurses and social workers, but oh yes, dinner was served with unlimited amounts of wine. I couldn’t resist encouraging the group that they more they drank, the better I would sound and then, the magic took place. I talked, and they did more than simply listen; THEY HELD MY SPACE, which I highly complemented them because the greatest presentation, I’ve always believed and strived to achieve, is not the one that’s told or heard, but the one that’s experienced.
Out of the new differences I added to this presentation was the following poem by Ellen Bass
IF YOU KNEW
Ellen Bass
What if you knew you’d be the last
to touch someone?
If you were taking tickets, for example,
at the theater, tearing them,
giving back the ragged stubs,
you might take care to touch that palm,
brush your fingertips
along the life line’s crease.
When a man pulls his wheeled suitcase
too slowly through the airport, when
the car in front of me doesn’t signal,
when the clerk at the pharmacy
won’t say Thank you, I don’t remember
they’re going to die.
A friend told me she’d been with her aunt.
They’d just had lunch and the waiter,
a young gay man with plum black eyes,
joked as he served the coffee, kissed
her aunt’s powdered cheek when they left.
Then they walked half a block and her aunt
dropped dead on the sidewalk.
How close does the dragon’s spume
have to come? How wide does the crack
in heaven have to split?
What would people look like
if we could see them as they are,
soaked in honey, stung and swollen,
reckless, pinned against time?
Just a few months ago when I was the last speaker at a workshop, I literally wrote the following poem, waiting for my turn to present the HOLDING SPACE talk. . .uh, yeah, I added it that talk and last night’s one as well:
PROTECTED PRESENCE
and I’ve lost a lot of my pieces
I don’t exactly remember when I
Humpty-Dumptied if off the wall
No recollection of all the Kings men
and all of the horses they rode in on
But I know. . .ohhh how I know
How I’ve not been put back together again
and when you dare to
provide protective presence
and choose to hold me
It’s not so much of an Embrace
as a specific piece that never existed
You’ve brought to me
A wholeness I’ve not known
but now never want to forget
or ever want to be without
Y O U
held my space
and just like that
you made me feel
a little closer to home
just by walking me
through this blog post. . .
Y O U
KING OF A LAND
I love this new song and video by Yusuf, formerly known as Cat Stevens. . .
If I was a king of a land I’d free every woman and man I’d let them go I’d set them free, to serve You
If I knew every fish in the sea And every bird in the tree I’d hear their call I’d hear them speak Your name
If I ran the schools of this world I’d teach every boy and girl I’d let them learn the truth I’d let them know Your glory
If I had stairs to the sky I’d raise my voice up there high I’d want the world to hear Your perfect words and thank You
If I had a mountain of gold I’d try to feed every poor soul And give them hope again And let them taste Your bounty
If I could reach every dream I still would search the unseen To find a way That leads us to Your mercy
If I was a king of a land I’d free every woman and man I’d let them go I’d set them free to serve You
The lyrics and the tune, well, it’s not the only thing
and maybe not as important as this
one single question:
IF YOU WERE A KING OF A LAND. . .
WHAT WOULD IT LOOK LIKE?
Psssssssssssssssssst:
It’s more in your HANDS
to choose
than you might ever imagine
. . .MAKE IT COUNT
(I don’t know how long you have been following and supporting THE CARING CATALYST BLOG; but I’m humbly grateful and congratulations to you; this is my 1100th post)
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