The Other Side of Another

It seems that from the moment time began, if it had a beginning, there was always the other side of another. From the Biblical allegory of Cain and Abel, the other side of another played a pivotal role, just as Adam and Eve were created to be each the other side of another. From the moment, whenever that was, humanity begun to ponder these things, it was always the other side of another that made the world that it is today. 

Let's first do some "housekeeping" on the word "another" before we get to why this is worth spending twenty minutes of your reading time. 

It appears that the word "other", to mean different and discreet entity, was a stand alone word in the English language, needless of any modification.  Now to describe it, since it begins with a vowel, one must say, "an other", just as we would say an egg, an idiom, etc.  It is conceivable that it was merely contracted and later fully evolved more easily into one word, "another".  Just as well that it did because the English language just found another way to prove that is the most efficient language in the world, in my opinion.  I say that as a non-native English speaker.  As such, I sought with great interest anything I could learn about my fourth adopted language. (the other three were all Filipino, but each was nevertheless a distinct language, not just a dialect, albeit each had origins going back to perhaps one proto language derived from Malay (just as Spanish, Italian, Portuguese, may all have come from one proto origin but they are three different languages now). I may have just overextended all allowable assumptions on my part as I am not a linguistic expert, nor an amateur lexicographer, not even by a long shot.

One last thing about "another" before we move on. It is so versatile that it can merely be the opposite of one, as in "one went one way, another went the other way", or as a reciprocal as in, "to love one another", or possessively as in "another's arms", and though typically singular, it will modify plural words, as in "another five yards", "another ten years", etc. It can even summon a lot of weighty ambiguity, when the boss uses it in, "I need another opinion or idea". It can connote a foreboding urgency when, "we need another set of tests" or "another lab work". Then relegated to a mere footnote, people, at one time, begun inserting the word, "whole" , into another, to say "a whole nother". If it was an attempt at word evolution, it failed to take hold and did not survive, except as a colloquial artifact.

Now that you know all there is to know about another, we can get into what is on the other side of another?

Everywhere we look, as if baked in all of Creation, there is one and there is always the other side of another. Even among identical twins, the phenomenon is inescapably and naturally real.  Botanists, farmers and horticulture hobbyists have cloned plants for centuries, no two are exactly the same because there was and will always be the other side of another.  Diversity - well known for driving the sustainability, survival and improvement of all living things is brought on by one and the inevitable another side of it.

When males of many pack species of animals, i.e. lions, wolves, chimpanzees, etc. are driven out of their territory, it was as much as avoiding interbreeding as it was about allowing them to spread the gene pool, acting as the other side of another to a different pack or pride, farther away. 

Even in social and inter-personal relationships, opposites attract just as often, if not more so, than homogeneous connections. Couples with two different interests seem to have more to learn from each other as opposed to those with similar interests who are prone to argue more vehemently over the same thing, over and over.  That, right there, is my piece of psychobabble but it worked for me and my wife. We come from different backgrounds, with different tastes in music, the arts and a few others, but for fifty one years it worked more as if an alloy was created out of the combination.

The Stone Age as a historical step for humanity was just that - a step.  There was little our ancestors can do but shape them; only when soft mortar and clay were mixed with stone that ended cave dwelling. Fire did a lot but only when copper was mixed with tin that ushered the Bronze Age. The Iron Age would have been a dead end until somebody came up with infusing carbon to it which gave us steel.  From there it was leaps and bounds for our development.

Lightning, electricity, magnetism are forces driven by two opposing phenomenon of positive and negative, plusses and minuses (+,-), and two opposing poles. In magnetism, two similar north poles or south poles, do not want to have anything to do with each other. It is the negatively charged electron orbiting the positively charged proton in a nucleus that creates one hydrogen atom. All other compounds are put together the same way.

Something can be said of a philosophy that goes back to ancient China that is popular to the reader - the idea of the yin and yang. It may not answer all that we can ask of the universal duality that seems to pervade everything around us; but, if I may suggest, it is worth reading about.  There is a cache of material that is a mere click away if one is inclined to look.

On the other hand, the quest or yearning for the Aryan Race was  doomed from the beginning, as it was nothing more than an astoundingly ignorant and misguided idea only fools could have conceived. Animal species knew better, so it was a case of human folly that should never be repeated. For without the other side of another, humanity should already have regressed into extinction eons ago.  

So it is that today, in every sociological, political, educational, religious coalescence of people, uniformity and singularity of ideas and ideology will doom any society into an ideological inbreeding. Silencing one group so that one monolithic society may emerge is the greatest existential threat. Once social rules, ideas, ideologies and belief systems get funneled into one monochromatic existence, the result will be a monolithic society that will not survive for very long. Silencing opposing opinions, censoring other ideas, one party rule in any government might seem to create a "feel good" environment but only for a while.  Monolithic societies are doomed from the moment they are created.

So, let us not forget that we were not born from just one side but from one and the other side of another. 

 

 

 

The Other Side Of Morning

Every morning is a gift.  We look forward to each one. We all look forward to many mornings to come regardless of how many we've had already because that is how a sustained and long life always begins; and all the  mornings we get are by themselves the greatest gift that we ought to unbox every day. It does not matter what is in each box for as long as we get to open it. The greatest wonder of it all is that we get to do with each gift as we please.

The beauty of every morning is the sunrise that ushers it in - unopposed and unrelenting from behind the clouds, through thunderstorms and heavy raindrops, even through the din of howling winds, even that of a baby crying or the piercing intrusion of an alarm clock - because each is a gift. However, there is a catch.  Isn't there always though? 

Every morning has a mid-day, like the half time of a well contested game, complete with a two-minute warning before lunch. Then there is the frantic scramble to make the most of the next two quarters, then another two-minute warning by way of a gentle sunset.  And the day is over. How well we did is how well we played the entire four quarters. How well it ends is what the other side of morning is all about. But even if we didn't play all four quarters, waking up in the morning is good enough, for the alternative is not to wake up at all. But we'll not go there; at least, not just yet.  That is because there is so much on the other side of morning.

When we got married my wife had this thing about making the bed right away, before she steps out of the bedroom. Actually, she is pretty adamant about making sure the bed is made - bed sheets stretched out tight, blankets folded or laid flat, pillows fluffed.  I, at first, though not overly annoyed by the strict ritual, found it a bit obsessively compulsive.  But it seemed a little much that even when we traveled, she did the same thing with the hotel bed.  At the very least, if we are pressed for time, the bed cover must be laid back properly before we step out.  My wife has to start every morning that way, her first task for the day, which she prefers to do as best she can if she were to expect all subsequent tasks to  go the same way.  That is her way of opening the daily gift of morning.

These days, after the dreaded diagnosis of Parkinson, I took up the role because, as can be expected, she struggled with the routine; though she tried. Should I have changed the ritual? No, I became a convert, instead. That's when I realized my wife had the right idea all along  about how to open the box.  If each morning is a gift, she knew to open it the right way, everyday. I will have to agree.

Many decades ago it was she who applied for immigration to this country, to which I had very lukewarm interest. Today, I'm glad she saw what mornings we were going to have at a place, though foreign and far away, where she knew that over 15,700 mornings later we will be at a place we and our two sons and our five grandchildren can live comfortably and securely - where every morning is the box to be opened first.  My wife knew it all along.  I may have learned it late but I'm glad I now know how. The least I can do today is to stick with the routine that started it all since 18,625 mornings ago when we first got married.

So it is that each of us must look forward to every morning that comes our way. Without us having to do anything, it comes with the regularity of a universal cadence. Yet, we are not without a choice.  We can get up early, late or begrudgingly, but it keeps coming anyway. If that is not something we value we must at least know that it is always there, yet it requires little obligation on our part to open it one particular way or another. It will keep coming anyway. Until the day we could no longer have awareness of its coming we must always consider it a gift.  There is no asking price for it. Unused or not, however, we lose it at every sunset.

Let us not forget that the other side of morning is how much or how little we do with it. How we begin to savor the day is always about how we begin the other side of morning. Though we have all day, we know it will soon become sunset.

Parkinson's and "The Other Side of Day"

My woodworking blog, "Web of Cards", garnered one of the highest readership on the first day it was published, although I think it had more to do with the fact that it was my wife's Parkinson's - diagnosed  just this last summer - that prompted  the woodworking project  so she may continue to play the card game that she and I and two other couples have come to enjoy occasionally.  In addition to the regular U.S. readers I was surprised at the numbers from Europe and Canada who took keen interest.

"Parkinson's disease (PD) is a degenerative condition of the brain associated with motor symptoms (slow movement, tremor, rigidity, walking and imbalance) and a wide variety of non-motor complications (cognitive impairment, mental health disorders, sleep disorders and pain and other sensory disturbances)". 

"Globally, disability and death due to PD are increasing faster than for any other neurological disorder. The prevalence of PD has doubled in the past 25 years. Global estimates in 2019 showed over 8.5 million individuals with PD. Current estimates suggest that, in 2019, PD resulted in 5.8 million disability-adjusted life years, an increase of 81% since 2000, and caused 329 000 deaths, an increase of over 100% since 2000".

8.5 million in a world population of 7+ billion, a mere statistical  blip that is easily lost in the rounding off of huge numbers, is much too low relative to other diseases, yet it seems that more people seem to know about it or actually aware of someone, or "a friend of a friend" who has PD. That is perhaps because of the work that a Michael J. Fox and other luminaries who shed the light to this once obscure malady.

However, the number could be higher because in developing countries the illness is either not diagnosed or just merely mis-diagnosed for other neurological disorders.  It is possible too that because it is often age-related (few exceptions like that of MJF and other young PD patients), the well developed countries do tend to exhibit higher numbers for PD, and other age-related ailments because demographics favor the survival of senior citizens - seventy years old and beyond

Where "The Other Side of Day", a phrase I just created,  comes in this musing are the many forms that it is manifested, often as life's metaphor, or a realization that there is indeed that other side of day that we all must consider deeply as each and everyone of us is confronted with an ailing partner or family member, even friends with whom we relate just as intently.

I was at the grocery store's checkout line one day.  The gentleman ahead of me, his cart full to the brim of household essentials, glanced at me a couple of times as if inviting a quick chat as we all waited for the cashier who was fumbling with a fresh roll of paper tape into the receipt dispenser. I initiated the conversation, "I'm glad to see another guy shopping for groceries".  He replied, "Well, my wife can no longer do it.  She has congestive heart failure and emphysema.  She is wheelchair-bound and  an oxygen tank and respirator must be nearby to her at all times. That's why I do this once or twice a week".    I added that my wife too is afflicted with the chronic burden of Parkinson's. I then said, "Well, both our wives are lucky to have you and I do these chores for the household".

He replied, "Well, I look at it this way. You and I are the lucky ones because we are still relatively healthy, clearly still strong to do this chore. So I count myself very fortunate I can drive, walk briskly with a fully loaded cart and unload them with relative ease. So, we are both the lucky ones".

I had to swallow hard first before I could reply, "Yes, right you are".  Before he wheeled his cart away he asked what part of Hawaii I was from.  So, the reason he glanced at me twice was that he was looking at the baseball cap I had on.  It said, "Hawaii".  I told him the cap was a gift from a family friend who has toured the islands and added further that I was born and grew up from the same part of the Pacific region - The Philippines. Of course, he also knew a Filipino as a co-worker and they still keep in touch even after they both retired.  And we bid our goodbyes.  

The cashier chimed in as she was scanning my groceries. She said, "I  am sorry to hear the two-minute conversation you were both having and I can't help but choke a little bit. I thought I was going to cry". 

Indeed, my conversation with that gentleman encapsulated "the other side of day". And like that object in the night sky, the "other side of day" has its own phases when one cares to look closely at how life progresses over time. It is obviously apparent when the health of a spouse is affected.  As the population ages, health of either or both in the partnership between husband and wife overrides everything.  

The other side of day, if it were about expanding life's experiences, also means knowing the layouts of all the grocery interior of the places that are now the objects of my new routine.  I know exactly that cinnamon/raisin bagels are at aisle 3 at HEB, while I know with certainty what to get at aisle H25 at Wal-Mart. It is best to avoid visiting Costco or Sam's on Wednesdays, if you want to avoid the crowd.  Also, there is no recipe or example of the many ways to smoke meat that cannot be found in YouTube.

The other side of day forces us to examine and re-direct life's purposes and trajectory. Caregiving, in whatever form or degree of involvement, becomes a reality for either one in a partnership that is getting older and growing in number as a percentage of the population. Caregiving calls for acknowledging the nobility that it entails and the poignancy of purpose like no one had faced before. When it becomes apparent, the light it brings is a stunning revelation as to how life must  be truly lived at its fullest. That is because both in that partnership must acknowledge with the highest degree of gratitude in realizing the full value of the train ticket they purchased however many years ago to begin the journey of a collaborated and still to be completed life.

For my wife and I, that journey is now fifty-one years to the month.  We just celebrated our 51st yesterday. Of course, gone are the days of going on a trip or a treat of a night stay at the downtown 5-star hotel for a lavish evening of dinner, a show and ordering breakfast the following morning.  But those memories are not to be diminished but only to be cherished.  We did that just once, by the way - the local hotel thing. 

The classical music station I listen to has for its slogan, "Remember, old  music was once new".  If music is the language of the soul, it took a lot of God's resources by way of every composer who created melodies and movement variations of the composition.

And there lies the key to those of us of a certain age.  The face in a crowded room that tantalized and captured your attention decades ago is still there behind the wrinkles and gray thinning hair.  It took a lot of God's material to create the beauty of a maiden among many in that room; or the angular face over a perceived chiseled body in a group of eager young men, but the years have a way of rendering those images their inevitable impermanence. But the person, the essence of his or her personality is still there.  The years of journeying through the good and bad times must count for the permanent etching in the book of life.

That old lady walking gingerly across the room was once that vibrant and grinning cheerleader, or she was that gifted dark haired beauty at the school library who was both captivating and intriguing at the same time; or that the quarterback who scored the winning touchdown of the school year's last game in high school is now hardly able to tie his shoes; or that one on the dialysis bed was once that skinny, smart bespectacled nerd but way too funny to be ignored.  Each a spouse, each part of the journey, so why must any of them not deserve the care and support? Like the classical music that were once new, each was created new with the same living tissues and bones put together with the blessings of The Almighty. If you or I are blessed as the fortunate capable partner, the essence of nobility in deed and intentions are for us to grab and wield in that partnership. 

I swim at the gym as a goal for personal well being, to stay healthy and fit. Now the goal to better my time at swimming a thousand meters at the pool is to remain healthy and fit for the two of us because that is where necessity ends.

The quote from the title of one of my earlier musings, "For Kindness Begins Where Necessity Ends", is in essence what it should all be about in a partnership that had endured this far into the journey. Everyday on that journey makes the train ticket of life worth the cost it took to purchase it.

Everyone A Tenant, Everyone A Traveler ..

.. Everyone, no exception, is merely a temporary custodian of anything. Everyone  has nothing more than temporary ownership of wealth, title, position, and so on and on. Consequently, everything anyone claims to possess, is as fleeting as every breath one takes.  One breathes in, one breathes out.  When that stops at the end of one's life, custody of anything  abruptly changes hands.

Too simplistic of a view of the world? Or, of life itself? Too fatalistic, too pessimistic?  Or, all too real, or is there something to behold other than what we think?

Just so we know this is beyond debate or to make sure this is impervious to argument, we look to the history of the world and the story of life itself.  When Alexander the Great reached the last empire he conquered, we are told he cried because there was nothing else to set his eyes on.  At age thirty two, all of it ended for him.  He died. His empire split  as his generals fought and divided the greatest accumulation of wealth, power and dominion ever put together by one man. Within two days after his death, the unrest that followed over succession began. Within weeks, there was a revolt in Alexander's base in Athens.

What followed over the next 2600 years, cascading through the centuries, was a string of empires, emperors and rulers, who came and went. All, just the same - every emperor, king, entire kingdoms  mere temporary custodians. A few thousand years earlier, the pharaohs had their bodies preserved so that they may continue to have custody of their power, wealth and glory into the afterlife.

Though the pharaohs' quest for everlasting custody did not hold, the pyramids  they built still stand for tourists to hold in awe.  All reminders that custody is temporary.

 

The only thing that prevails is the story of life. That it has a shelf life that may last three to four generations is miraculous as it is humbling.  Alexander's life was barely over a generation long; one generation deemed by general convention to be 20-30 years. Those among us enjoying the third or fourth quarter of our lives have much to treasure, more than Alexander could have dreamt of.

And so it is that our individual lives are what they are.  Ordinary lives, some short, others long enough, or too long; exceptional lives that have made a difference to the world; self-centered ones that were of little benefit to anyone; and lives cut short. Lives lived and soon forgotten; lives lived quietly. Every now and then a life here and there is celebrated, rarer still is when one life rises to heights of fame and fortune so quickly and ends so suddenly - meteors through the night sky, falling stars one can only wish for.  Just the same, each one a temporary occupier of space, custodian of very little or too much, but nevertheless only for a finite period of time.

“No man ever steps in the same river twice. For it’s not the same river and he’s not the same man.”    --- Heraclitus

And so we travel through space and time and no matter what we think or believe, we are never at the same place from one moment to the next. The river of time is unrelenting, so one might as well step into it and do the utmost as best as one can because the alternative is to stand by the river bank to watch it go by. Since we are all tenants, we might as well make full use of the lease - that's what it really is - and as travelers, we might as well enjoy the journey. Lacking in mobility, wheelchair bound even, or shut in within the confines of a retirement home, one's greatest gift for travel is the mind.  For it knows no boundary even as it occupies the littlest of space.

No matter what one's status is in life, no one may take away the joy one feels because no one may dictate what it is we choose to enjoy.

From the Pharaohs to Alexander; from Mozart to Elvis, all travelers  through time, temporary occupiers, tenants all, because permanence is not  and never will be the nature of the universe. { Note: Elvis is an anagram of Lives. }