Good Outnumber You and We Always Will

Today's thought comes courtesy of comedian and actor Patton Oswalt. On his Facebook page, he posted the message below in response to tragic events at the Boston Marathon yesterday. He says everything I would have said today, and more.

I've reread his remarks many times this morning. We all should.

I remember, when 9/11 went down, my reaction was, "Well, I've had it with humanity."

But I was wrong. I don't know what's going to be revealed to be behind all of this mayhem. One human insect or a poisonous mass of broken sociopaths.

But here's what I DO know. If it's one person or a HUNDRED people, that number is not even a fraction of a fraction of a fraction of a percent of the population on this planet. You watch the videos of the carnage and there are people running TOWARDS the destruction to help out. (Thanks FAKE Gallery founder and owner Paul Kozlowski for pointing this out to me). This is a giant planet and we're lucky to live on it but there are prices and penalties incurred for the daily miracle of existence. One of them is, every once in awhile, the wiring of a tiny sliver of the species gets snarled and they're pointed towards darkness.

But the vast majority stands against that darkness and, like white blood cells attacking a virus, they dilute and weaken and eventually wash away the evil doers and, more importantly, the damage they wreak. This is beyond religion or creed or nation. We would not be here if humanity were inherently evil. We'd have eaten ourselves alive long ago.

So when you spot violence, or bigotry, or intolerance or fear or just garden-variety misogyny, hatred or ignorance, just look it in the eye and think, "The good outnumber you, and we always will."

Sunlit Bench

The simplest of life mottoes is "Do onto others as you would have them do onto you."

If you were going for something a little longer, this thought might just work:

"Work for a cause, not for applause. Live life to express, not to impress. Don't strive to make your presence noticed, just make your absence felt."

Sunset at the Winery

Seventeenth century French author François de La Rochefoucauld once said:

"True eloquence consists in saying all that is fit to be said, and leaving out all that is not fit."

Capturing Light

As you admire the projected light of the Kennedy Center's Northern Lights exhibition on the trees surrounding the venue, contemplate today's thought courtesy of poet Maya Angelou:

"Success is liking yourself, liking what you do, and liking how you do it."

Stretching Branches

Today's thought of the day comes from one of my favorite singers, Adele. In an interview, she said:

"I'm ballsy. I have guts. I'm not afraid of anyone. I think that makes me feel powerful. The only person I'm afraid of is myself."

After a long day, this is a good mantra to repeat to oneself. Be more ballsy tomorrow. Fear no one. Feel powerful. Ignore the cowardly lion of self-doubt in us all.

Tomorrow, we should stretch ourselves beyond our "boundaries" and comfort zones into the limitless sky like these leafless tree branches in winter.

As we stretch, we may connect with others moving in complementary -- and at times, contrary -- directions. Perhaps this intersection will result in collaboration or conflict. Either way, growth can always be by-product if we allow it.

Whatever the outcome, we must still be fearless, bold, and ballsy. And always reach, reach, reach.

Learning A New Language

This week, I've been immersed in a new language and it's riveting. I'm not talking about a foreign language like Spanish or French, but a cultural language of shared experience.

For the past few days, I've met and learned from the most fascinating people -- persons with lived experience with mental health and substance use challenges.

They are not only consumers: they are also advocates who have revolutionized the way the world perceives -- and how health professionals treat -- people with these challenges.

Like any other fighters for civil rights, they have fought for their right to direct their own care and be a decision-maker regarding their treatment and recovery.

These inspirational people have taught me many lessons so far, as well as a new concept -- sustainable hope. Their stories and resilience reminded me that we should not just strive for flashes of hope, but make choices that sustains hope to make it last longer in our lives.

Conflicted Seasons

A little bit of this and a little bit of that. Here's a little bit of summer and a little bit of autumn all in the same frame.

According to my friends, the Capital Weather Gang, my neighborhood should be in peak autumn color by the end of October. I'm thinking it might be a little sooner than that, so I'm going to be keeping my camera close at hand.

When the foliage flares into color, I'm going to be ready.

Autumn is Here

Autumn is here, and the trees in Northern Virginia are changing color already. See today's image as evidence.

Good grief, autumn is here? Where has the year gone? Wasn't it just autumn?

While I'm looking forward to saying farewell to 2012, I didn't expect the year to pass so quickly. Soon enough autumn will be over and we will be greeting the holidays and the arrival of winter.

And chances are good that I'll be saying, "Good grief!" again.

Finding My Words

Last week, my family suffered a great loss. My Aunt Kathy, who I've blogged about previously, passed away after a year-long battle with colon cancer. As my cousin so beautifully phrased it, she fought cancer with great courage and grace and in the end, died surrounded by love.

It's hard to find the words when dealing with such grief, which is why I've been absent from Via My Viewfinder the past two weeks. Preparing for her passing, and then finally facing it, no topic felt right to talk about. Not even my photographs inspired me to blog.

I'm still not ready to say more, so I hope you can forgive me if I share the wisdom of others on the next couple of blog posts. Eventually, I'll find my voice again. Until that time, I hope you enjoy my new photographs paired with the inspirational words of great thinkers.

It's Poetry, America

The best commercial during the Super Bowl didn't advertise a product, but a new way of thinking about America and our future.

Narrated by Clint Eastwood, Chrysler's Super Bowl ad sought to inspire a struggling nation to regroup during this "halftime" in our history and rally for a better America. What made the ad copy sing was written like a poem, instead of traditional advertising copy. Paired with simple images, Chrysler let the words sink in to viewers' minds and soar.

Here's the transcript of this remarkable TV commercial as shared by The Inspiration Room™:

It’s halftime. Both teams are in their locker room discussing what they can do to win this game in the second half.

It’s halftime in America, too. People are out of work and they’re hurting. And they’re all wondering what they’re going to do to make a comeback. And we’re all scared, because this isn’t a game.

The people of Detroit know a little something about this. They almost lost everything. But we all pulled together, now Motor City is fighting again.

I’ve seen a lot of tough eras, a lot of downturns in my life. And, times when we didn’t understand each other. It seems like we’ve lost our heart at times. When the fog of division, discord, and blame made it hard to see what lies ahead.

But after those trials, we all rallied around what was right, and acted as one. Because that’s what we do. We find a way through tough times, and if we can’t find a way, then we’ll make one.

All that matters now is what’s ahead. How do we come from behind? How do we come together? And, how do we win?

Detroit’s showing us it can be done. And, what’s true about them is true about all of us.

This country can’t be knocked out with one punch. We get right back up again and when we do the world is going to hear the roar of our engines. Yeah, it’s halftime America. And, our second half is about to begin.

According to The Inspiration Room, "The Halftime in America" ad was developed at Wieden+Kennedy, Portland, by executive creative directors Mark Fitzloff and Susan Hoffman, creative directors Aaron Allen, Micahel Tabtabai and Joe Staples, copywriters Kevin Jones, Smith Henderson and Matthew Dickman, art director Jimm Lasser.

Talking with Quiet Confidence

Leafless trees are the perfect example of stillness. Yes, a breeze may force a tree's naked branches to move, but for the most part, trees in winter are very still.

It reminds me a quote I recently shared on my Life Truths board on Pinterest:

Talking with quiet confidence will always beat screaming with obvious insecurity.

Wouldn't the world be a better place if we learned to speak like winter's leafless trees with stillness and "quiet confidence"?

Giving Trees of Life

Looking at this tree makes me think of the children's book, The Giving Tree by Shel Silverstein.

At the end of the book, the old man who as a young boy would ask his tree to give and give and give, finally realizes that at the end of his life, his needs are very little. In the end, all he desired  was a place to rest and the company of an old friend.

These days, I feel like that old man; all I need to be happy are beautiful landscapes and places to explore and the company of good people. The rest is just icing on life's cake.

Snow and Shadows on the National Mall

Oh Monday, Monday. Why do you always cause me to sigh and breathe so deeply?

In order to get through dreaded Mondays, I meditate on the image of crisp, bright outdoor places, such as this photograph of the National Mall covered in snow. This scene is so serene and calming.

Farewell Monday. Let the countdown to the weekend begin.

Close-up of Bronze Tree in Snow

Irish writer and poet Oscar Wilde once said, "To live is the rarest thing in the world. Most people exist, that is all."

As we start a new week, let's strive to do more living than existing.

Bronze Tree in Snow

Nature's color palette is remarkable. Even during the gray of winter, there can still be flashes of color like this bronze leaf tree on the National Mall.

Perhaps it is a reminder that in the bleakest moments, there is always a flash of life.

Standing in the Storm

Holding up the dome featured in yesterday's photograph of the District of Columbia War Memorial are a circle of pillars made of marble. They are striking, especially in contrast to the sparse tree of winter in the background of today's image.

Pillars are known for strength. According to the dictionary, a pillar is defined as "a tall vertical structure of stone, wood, or metal, used as a support for a building, or as an ornament or monument." Watching Rep. Gabrielle Giffords (D-AZ) resign from the U.S. House of Representatives and leave Congress on Wednesday reminded me of these pillars. What a remarkable human being.

In her farewell remarks to her colleagues yesterday, Giffords said, "I will recover and will return, and we will work together again, for Arizona, and for all Americans." And I believe she will return to the halls of Capitol Hill once more. It's what a great pillar would do, right?

The source of Giffords' strength and resilience must be founded in her recognition, understanding and acceptance of who she is and what is important to her. Before the terrible shooting last year and during the months after, you get the sense that Giffords really knows herself and uses that personal knowledge and truth to draw courage for the years of recovery ahead. As a result, she continues to earn the respect of her peers on the Hill -- no easy feat -- and keeps steady and focused on this challenging and frustrating road of recovery.

Another example of  pillar, Elizabeth Edwards, once shared in her autobiography what she wanted her children to say about her to their children in the future:

When they are older and telling their own children about their grandmother, they will be able to say that she stood in the storm, and when the wind did not blow her way -- and it surely has not -- she adjusted her sails.

Life can be filled with so many storms. Like Giffords and Edwards, we must live to be steadfast and strong. We must strive to pillars that stay upright in the midst of life's own howling winds and blinding rain, willing to to adjust our sails to accommodate life's ebbs and flows. In the storm, we must stand and keep supporting our own life domes.

Thankfully, at least we still have Gabby Giffords in our world now to show us how to do it with courage, optimism and grace.

Clearing Space

After the news broke this morning about former Penn State football coach Joe Paterno's passing, I thought that his death would inspire today's post. The more I thought about it, the more I just didn't want to go there. All of it -- the child sex abuse scandal, his passing, his tainted legacy -- is just too sad to contemplate right now.

Instead, I share another life lesson that appeared on my Pinterest feed today:

When you stop chasing the wrong things, you give the right things a chance to catch you.

What a great mantra to start off with this week. We all need to start clearing space for the good, right things in our lives and eliminate the clutter of wrong turns and unhelpful distractions.

Red Flares

Not sure who said this one, but it is a thought worth repeating:

Most of the problems in life comes because of two reasons: we act without thinking and we keep thinking without acting.

Here's to all of us remembering to be a great thinkers who take action. The truth is the world is full of enough actors without thought and thinkers with no action.

We need more red flares in the world, more bright lights to guide and inspire others to be their own bright light.

Tree by the Potomac River at Sunrise

When I go out on photo excursions, I take hundreds of photos. It's what I love most about using digital cameras instead of film cameras.

To be honest, I was probably a better photo editor when I used my 35mm film camera. Wasting film is expensive, so when I used film, I needed to be more selective what photographs I took. With digital cameras, I can take as many photographs as my memory card can hold. The sky (or memory card) is the limit.

I took hundreds of photos in November when I drove along George Washington Parkway to capture autumn's final fling. Some photographs stood out in my memory and I posted them right away to the blog. Others, like this one of the sunrise lighting a tree along the Potomac River, was overlooked until now.

Reviewing old photographs is like unwrapping unexpected presents; you just never know what gens you will rediscover. I wonder what I will discover tomorrow.

Tree Branch Gazing

I'm so grateful for the arrival of the holiday weekend. It's been a very long week.

Besides enjoying a Monday off from work, I think I need a moment this weekend to just lie on my back (in what remains of the grass) and then look up at marvel at a sky filled with tree branches.

Have you ever spent time just gazing up under a tree's canopy? It's so peaceful. When looking up at the underside of a tree, the branches look like interlaced veins. While it is easy to find the base or start of each tree branch, the rest of the branches become a maze of tree limbs.

Tree branch gazing is fascinating and time-consuming. It's the perfect holiday weekend activity and definitely on my agenda this weekend, if the weather permits. Fingers crossed.