Timeless Vanity, and Vain Men

VANITY

The man of vanity, a bag of gas,

Prefers associates empty as himself,

And while he lives and bloats on others' breath,

Sells puffs to purchase a return of puffs;

And while he courts esteem , by vapid praise

From those he aims to cheat, gets counterfeit.

Vain man!  So prone to mingle with the world

For fond display of what he means for wit,

While comrades, for amusement, urge him on

By flattery and simulated praise,

By draughts that warm the blood and loose the tongue.

Poor man!  He has no relish for his home;

No appetite for labor or repose;

No rest, save when he roves in search of news;

No peace of heart, except in feuds and strife;

No joy more sweet than giving others grief;

Great pride in vilifying modest worth;

Great greatness, grossly great at little tricks;

Great cunning which deceives himself alone.

Their language what?  And what their themes and thoughts?

As frivolous as fleeting phantasies

That vex us half awake and half asleep,

Unworthy of the thoughts of worthy men.

Rev. Anthanasius Aud  1884

Rev. Aud was pastor of St. Lawrence Church in Daviess Co. KY from 1845-1846. He wrote a book of poems that was printed in 1884 when he was eighty years old.    I wrote a little history book of the church and its people, and published it in 1998.  I included some of his poems as part of the history.   

My ancestors (Bowles) came from the Bardstown, KY area around 1816 and settled here where I live now in eastern Daviess Co, and were some of the first Catholic settlers to establish homesteads here.  One of the oldest graves in the St. Lawrence cemetery is one of my ancestors Mrs. J (James or John) Bowlds buried in 1829.  The first church was built out of logs in 1831.  Before that, the missionary priests would stop by about twice a year, having traveled down trails along the river on horseback, and stopping by little communities while holding services in their homes.

I was reading through some of the poems, and noticed how little the behavior of the proud, arrogant, and vain  men (mostly men, although women have joined these ranks) has changed.  Just flip over to FOX news network, or tune in to a conservative talk radio host, and see if you see any parallels.   "No rest, save when he roves in search of news; No peace of heart, except in feuds and strife; No joy more sweet than giving others grief; Great greatness, grossly great at little tricks; Great cunning which deceives himself alone."

Get Back to the Garden, and Feel the Dirt Sift Through Your Fingers

I recently read the blog of a friend, a young lady who has opened her eyes to find all of the materialism, and self centered ego based gratification that she has been exposed to in her recent upbringing.  Visions of a beautiful and delicate orchid growing in a dung heap popped into my mind when I read what she said.  I fear that she may be trampled back down into the muck if left alone, and so I feel compelled to reach out and encourage her, and help strengthen her to follow her heart and intuition in the right path.  Here in summary is what she said:  

 "Why do people allow a box to live their lives for them. Why? I want to live, go outside and dream and follow my heart, not watch actors on a stage jump around all day telling me how to talk, live, dress, and play.  Why are people so obsessed with these hypnotizing machines?  It’s a constant distraction, an addiction that masks them. Without the ability to slow down for just a moment, contemplate the love of life, no wonder there is so much unhappiness in this world we live in, people continuously look outside themselves for something to keep them fed.    If for one day or even an hour the flashing screens were turned off without power. What then would occur, what then would they use, to distract themselves from the present moment, their Truth? "

What she speaks of and longs for, is what I experienced as a child. We didn't have electricity in our house until I was about three. Even after we got it, we only used it for lights and a freezer to store food in. I was about seven when we got our first TV. 

My sister was eleven months younger than me. We were playmates and entertained each other. I would "bake" mud cakes with her, and she would play cowboy with me, riding tobacco sticks around the dusty yard under a big maple tree, and shooting my cap gun. And on some summer nights, I would go out in the front yard and sit with my dad under a big old maple tree where it was cool ... listen to the bullfrogs croak in the pond. Other times, I would go out by myself and lay on the hood of our car and stare up at the heavens in awe. There were no "security" lights out in the country to mask the view of the sky then, and my eyes were good. To this day, there is nothing that makes me feel so connected to one another, and to all living things on this earth, than to see the vastness of the Universe and realize how insignificant our little blue marble is in comparison. 
We lived and worked on our farm. We had work and chores to do, and we relished the times when we could just have some free time to play. Our dad and mom was always there, teaching us to work and the ways of country life. We grew up with a deep appreciation and respect for plants, animals, and our environment, because we saw how dependent we are upon them to survive. By today's standards we would have been living in poverty, but it wasn't like that for us. A person's wealth was not measured in the amount of material goods one acquired, rather it was in the amount of hard work and sacrifice one was willing to do to support  family, friends, and neighbors.  What we learned growing up in that kind of environment is priceless.


There is a big chasm disconnecting this young lady's generation and mine. Up until my generation, a boy could learn everything he needed to know to get by, just from the wisdom of his grandfather. But starting with my generation, we have had to constantly learn new things, learn brand new skills, work in different environments, and adapt to the changing technologies. As a result, my children and grandchildren have not had the opportunity to experience the same kind of childhood that I had.  I have not been able to live like my parents, and in the process of learning the new ways, I have forgotten to pass on the basic values that applies to all generations.  It is tragic, that in this process, the young folks have been left out of an extremely important experience while growing up. I hear what my young friend is saying, and now feel that a bridge needs to be built over the chasm, so that our species can again have respect for life and the planet. We can use some things like this blog internet connection, google earth, and google sky, to help build a bridge, but we still need to "go to the woods", gaze at the stars, and have personal contact with friends, to get us back to the "garden". 
Peace little sister! 

Paradise Found!

Paradise Found!

Paradise is not lost!  We are lost if we cannot see the paradise that lies before us.  Adam and Eve symbolically eating the fruit from the tree of knowledge of good and evil was only the first time we thought we knew the mind of  God.  Ironically, arrogance (which is the poison fruit) comes from knowledge with the ignorance of a larger knowledge of our limitations.  When gaining knowledge, it is easy to loose our humility, and to think that we know everything about the subject.  Because of the knowledge and the power that we gain from it, we may think that we are superior and can use the power in any way we wish, forcing our beliefs and will on others or wrecklessly altering the symbiotic balance of our earth.  
Certainly we have seen the rise and fall of religious sects and individuals who have arrogantly claimed that they had the answer.  They set themselves up as little gods through which all others have to pass in order to reach God. 
 Beware when a man says that “God said”!
It is the fruit of the tree of knowledge that is poison, not the tree.  We set ourselves up as little gods through the arrogance that comes from a tiny bite of knowledge.  It is the arrogance that makes us feel naked and ashamed of our bodies because it reminds us of our connection with all the other living things on the earth.  It is the arrogance that makes us deny our mortality and assert our dominion over the earth, rather than harmoniously sharing in its diverse bounty.
We must always be on guard when learning, no matter the subject (there are many trees of knowledge, not just the one of good and evil). It is the arrogance that will ultimately damn us and our paradise into nonexistence -- unless we take an antidotal dose of humility. We must humbly remember that we cannot know all, and that we could be wrong about what we think we know.  Through humility we can once again find our lost paradise and live in harmony with all things on the earth.  Truly the meek and humble of heart will inherit the earth.    


Dan Bowlds

Kindred Spirits

Kindred Spirits

As I sit here nestled into the shaded feet of this mighty Oak, resting for a moment from the heat of midday toil, I gaze out into a field of late Summer flowers -- a sea of delicate blooms swaying in the cool breeze that is gently soothing my burning face. And I see dancing atop the yellow waves, camouflaged, shy, and almost unnoticeable, a bright yellow butterfly kissing the blooms with her most delicate touch. Her beauty and grace are overwhelming me, and she is filling my heart with desire!

But my heart is not filled with lust. Rather, it longs to float carelessly with her beautiful Kindred Spirit upon this cool Summer breeze. And with these wings that she has given me, sail into the garden to dance among the roses. And to share the sweet nectar of life through our hearts with words, melodies, and fruits of the palette … If only for a fleeting moment in this midday Summer's Heat.

Dan Bowlds

Walls

Walls

Really, aren't we all somewhat alone inside?

Keeping our true feelings secret, the things we hide?

Building our defensive walls formidable and high,

Concealing from others our most vulnerable side?

Then, locked in our impenetrable fortresses,

Crystals of icy purposelessness pierce our hearts,

And we are reminded of something we knew from the start.

Love from another, as from our mother, in loving arms where we rest,

Is equally essential to life as nourishment was from her breast.

Dan Bowlds

Austin Window Reflections

I was in Austin Texas on a roaming minstrel vacation, soaking in the music and art, singing at open mics, and sharing experiences with others of like mind and heart. Breakfast at Micky Dees … Coffee with a sausage biscuit and egg. I sat down, back against a wall, and stared out of the side alley window. And just to the right of the window, I noticed an elderly couple sitting quietly at a table for two. His head was shiny with a ring of tufted cotton above his ears. His charcoal black eyes squinted through wiry brush eyebrows in the window glare. Deep lines grooved his leathery face, each a story of its own in the making of it. His chin waddle wagged with each clinch of his loosely fitting false teeth. His denim pants with rolled cuffs exposed his white cotton socks and neatly tied oxfords.
She sat there staring out the window with her pink plastic rimmed glasses. Her thinning hair was puffed up like cotton candy. Face powder caked her peach fuzz moustache. Her lipstick was slightly smeared from shaky application from an unsteady hand with knobby jointed fingers. Her breasts were flat and sagged to the navel under her cotton blouse. Her knee pants exposed traces of bulging veins. And bright red toenails accented her calloused toes that poked through the open sandals.
His wedding ring was worn thin. Her meager sized engagement diamond still glistened in the morning sunlight. They both had wrist watches on, but neither of them ever looked at them. They were sitting quietly at the table, talking more with gestures and looks than with words. He cupped his hand around his ear as she spoke the words I couldn’t hear, and he mouthed the words that she was saying. He chuckled out loud, and she had a smirky grin on her face. The English muffin sandwich was passed between them, neither seemed to be that hungry. He shared his water, she shared her coffee with a hand pass of the cup, and he accepted with a nod. It was as if they were exchanging spirits in the process. There was an air of peace, and they savored each precious moment together as they savored the coffee. When the coffee ran low, he pushed himself up from his chair and motioned for the cup. She slid it over to him, and with his hunched back and flat posterior, he shuffled over to the counter to get the cup refilled. Upon his return with the capped “to go” cup, she got up and started toward the door. She forgot her purse and had left it in the seat. He quietly picked it up on his way out.

Dan Bowlds

Muddy Ol' Water

Wrote a song and made a video honoring our hard working tow boat operators and crews on the rivers in our heartland. Without these folks, moving of vital goods to shipping ports and factories would be severely hampered.
My nephew, Kevin Bowlds, and Richard Clark and Steve Fulkerson of his band "King's Highway" played the fiddle, bass, and banjo on this, while I did the guitar and vocals.