Happy=Healthy

Why is laughter better than a Tylenol? A hearty smile a suitable supplement? A pat on the back a viable vitamin? It makes us happy! In thinking, I have developed a wholly uninformed, unreasonable, silly idea (or ideal) that I completely believe.

So my great-grandfather is nearing his mid-eighties. He plants a garden every year. He is one of the most brilliant carpenters I've ever known. He can split wood better than a youth. I kid you not. His body is worn, but strong. He eats a slab of salt pork nearly every morning. I'm not saying he's in perfect health, but what has it hurt him?

I know a great deal of people who are calorie obsessive. They shun sugar, steer clear of salt and fats, and have created a potently profitable market for "health food." I don't know many of them that can claim better health than I. I am not really careful as to what I eat, albeit I'm very young. I eat plenty of salt and fat, I am a Coca-Cola man and those killer cannisters often make there way in my system, but I'd match myself to a great deal of people health-wise.

I believe the key might be: 1. Don't be a glutton. 2. Stay active. If you are doing these two things I don't see how you can go wrong. I certainly would not say that emptying a few packages of Oreo's a day is a intelligent diet or that making a pyramid with your used Cola cans would not harm you, but within reason, truly, eat what you want.

I think at times that if people constantly watch what they eat, they will be worse off than those who are happily healthy. If one eats what they like it will curb it. That's generally what I do. I eat what I want, and what I like to eat. If I didn't eat what I wanted to I would be missing a little joy in life and for what? I get joy out of trying different foods and I don't want to let the fact that they are unhealthy hold me back.

So, in short, my health philosophy is don't eat too much of what's bad (but by all means eat it) and stay active. Eat happy, eat healthy.

*If I am found dead of nutritional problems in a few years we will all no my theory was wrong. (Don't count on it). I certainly would not want to steer someone in the wrong direction health-wise, so take care in following this bit of direction.

Quote Commentary 15...Brennan Manning (The Mask)

When I was eight the impostor, or false self, was born as a defense against pain. The impostor within whispered, 'Brennan, don't ever be your real self anymore because nobody likes you as you are. Invent a new self that everybody will admire and nobody will know.'

Brennan Manning

I received this particular quote secondarily, by way of a book called "Wild at Heart" by John Eldridge, he was representing this concept in a negative light. In the context, Manning was also condemning this practice. However, when I saw it I instantly connected with it. It seems that that may just be what I have been doing for a very long time. Living the masquerade that is Mitch Capps. My Classical Ride has been a Classical Show. It's been a great act. But how long can you be something before you become that something? Perhaps this created me is the me I chose for myself, and therefore truly is...me.

I am familiar with the fact that from kindergarten on we have been lambasted into believing that we should "always be ourselves." Oh it's a noble idea and I'll be attacked if I attack it, but who decides who we are? We are divinely created and then let loose. Who decides? We know our environment plays a crucial role. The personalities we surround ourselves with are our borrowing grounds. Then of course we have some amount of innate self, I know that, but do we not choose? I ask you, do we not?

In trying out this idea on some friends I have been repeatedly assured that they like "the real Mitch." I have a problem with that promise because quite frankly, they've never seen the real Mitch. So admittedly, for some, they like the fake me. This chap they've been friends with, this joe that they break bread with, this mug that they've grown to associate with Mitch Capps, is not Mitch Capps at all, but a prolonged and prestigious act. That is who they like.

For some an air of indignance comes along with what they call a "lie." I see this as a double standard. This is the me that I like, this is the me that you like, essentially, this is a better Me.

At the same time there is a mystery about this "false self" that must be maintained at all times. You have to learn about this person, but keep him and the You behind the curtain out of mind and out of state. You are behind the wheel with this person. You are bottled up inside (this is obviously not for everyone). You are ostentatiously reserved. You are shyly social. You have secrets. Secrets so petty and trivial that people would pay out the nose to find them out, but you won't let them. And to tell you the truth, they don't want to know. They want to have their faith rewarded, they want to have a mystery to solve. They want the sensationalized, glamourized, theatrical, fun You.

And so you give it to them.

*Naturally one does not have to agree with these theories. Besides that, this theory is not applicable for everyone, one must work these things out for themselves, and that is precisely what I'm trying to do, I am not trying to lay down the law or the truth, but allow you to be a guest on my hunt.

Newspaper Article

By Emily Towns and Mitch Capps (Me). This was written for the high school newspaper. It remains unpublished, so I'll whip it out here.

"We ride through the traffic of a thousand sins each day. And as we ride, can we honestly say we don't run a few red lights ourselves? There is terror in the streets.
But before any of this happened, there existed a foreign government: paradise. Almighty God had laid out a spread for us so scrumptious we can not dare to envision it's taste, lest we understate it to the point of blasphemy. What a racket we had. But as it would happen there was an intruder. An intruder who must have been something of a mystic. For in his cunning he persuaded a perfectly clean pair of lips to wrap themselves with relish around a forbidden fruit.
Then everything changed.
Humanity was cursed to the dirt and sweat and sin that would begin to shape civilization forever. The world began to tear itself apart.
Cain killed his brother. The earth was flooded clean from violence and immorality, but the second batch proved as bad. Noah became a drunkard, Babel built itself higher in their arrogance, Sodom and Gomorrah were destroyed in their sin, Abraham turned his back on his wife to save his skin--twice, with his son following suit, Jacob hijacked his brother's birthright, Joseph was sold into slavery by his brothers and unsuccessfully seduced by Potiphar's wife. When God had had enough and laid down his commandments they were smashed by the sight of God's people worshiping a calf of gold. Sampson was shamed, a virgin daughter of Israel raped until death, medium's were consulted, Saul committed suicide, David committed adultery and murdered. Bael was esteemed, the prophet's of the Lord were killed, the priests married heathen wives.
The planet was in sad shape. A hero was coming...for a price.
It is recognized that this hero was of a divine nature. A painful metamorphosis had to be undergone. His motivation? That would be us. But not the 'us' that you find going to church, singing hymns, or with our nose in the Bible, oh no. The 'us' that you find wasting the blood he spent in saving our skins. The 'us' that on a regular basis spits in the face of salvation and sins anyway. He was going to enter a sin-wired body for this? He was going to mingle with the traitors, the thieves, and the liars for this?
He absolutely was, and He absolutely did. Why? Because we were His children, He loved us, and we needed Him."

On a related note, I was lying down beside a campfire recently and I got to thinking along the lines of the crucifixion and it got me to thinking what love was. I wonder what love is a lot and I often wonder if feelings have to be present or not. Then I wonder if Jesus felt love for us when he was going through all of this. I wonder if he didn't just do it because he loved us (whatever that means) and not because he felt a good feeling towards us that is often related to love, but because we were his kids and he had always known what love really was and its definition. It's a series of acts that are for someone else's benefit. So you know love isn't that fun a lot of the time. I wonder of most of it isn't tough stuff. I wonder if I've ever really acted in love. You wonder a lot of things lying by a campfire. You should give it a whirl.