Dying without enemies

A man died last week who had no enemies. I wondered if that was good.

While many people might strive to have the number of friends this man had - might want to fill a church twice over with mourners - I could not help but wonder why no one disliked this man. I reflected on what I knew about him and realized that he seldom had confrontational conversations. He was a master at talking about seemingly generic topics and at avoiding issues that might be controvercial. When a discussion began to get heated, he chuckled and said "I'll have to look into that" before it reached a boil. He fought no battles. He championed no cause. I thought this was not good.
 

If it is true that each of us has a special purpose in this world, then it seems to me that we all have something about which to be passionate. Those who disagree with our beliefs create dialogues that open minds and create even more dialogues. As long as the discussions are based in truth and started in an attempt to broaden our knowledge and understanding, all conversations have value whether there is agreement or not. It's when these discussions become heated that they stop being discussions and become arguments which are much less productive.

So how does a person live a life in which they have no enemies? I guess the secret is not in never disgreeing with someone but the manner and respect with which you do it. It's knowing when and how to diffuse a situation so it never reaches the boiling point of an argument. Maybe it's knowing right time to chuckle and the right thing to say after. I'll have to look into that.

Things I've Seen #2 - Ice Cream Bridge

On a hot summer day, nothing is more tempting than a big ice cream cone. But these were really big. Each one stood 2 feet tall and, though I pride myself on my ice cream eating ability, I questioned whether I could defeat one of these gigantic frozen treats. I perched on a fence post in the 90 degree heat and planned my approach. I contemplated chocolate or vanilla and, if vanilla, hand scooped or soft serve. With soft serve, there tends to be more ice cream in the cone but hand scooped takes longer to melt. That's when it dawned on me; this ice cream wasn't melting.
Was this magic ice cream? Maybe this was used to lure an unsuspecting animal, or worse, a child. I had heard fairy tales of witches who used these types of candies and sweets to trap children who they would eat. But those witches always seem to meet a horrible fate left to die in their sugary house. I looked around and did not see a house of gingerbread and gumdrops. The idea of magic ice cream was fading but my curiosity was growing. I had to know. I jumped off the fence post and flew directly toward the soft serve cone on the left. I hovered above the mound of frozen cream, opened my  mouths as wide as possible and bit down.
Plastic.
I think I chipped a tooth.

From Aynil the Traveler