The Optimum Soul Environment
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The United States is not a civilization of splurgers, streamers, gushers, all or nothing kinds of people. Instead the people are patient, economical, thrifty, and kind people, and are attracted to the slow, methodical, timely placed drip. Nothing drips like success! More importantly, the drip is the cornerstone of our economy. Recall the "Trickle Down" economic theory, which is still a "drip economy" by any other name. A drip has to have certain physical properties before it is a drip, as well as for when it is no longer called a drip. The drip becomes an independent entity when it releases from the larger source, and is falling or flying free of all effects, except gravity and the Creator. It's not the size of the drip that counts. It is the fact that a drip is individualized and in a free fall. This freedom to be gives the drip its character. The drip leaves the source quietly, then free falls to create an impact, landing upon some material object, such as a car windshield. The impact creates a sound, which is defined by the size, speed and the material object impinged upon. There is a great variety just in the intensity of the sound. The drip is born, when it leaves the source. The drip begins as a "tear drop shape," and suggesting that drips have emotions. The drip is sad, as it parts from its source. But the drip continues its free fall, growing into a perfect sphere. This sphere is capable of expressing any one of the colors of the rainbow as it falls. There is a guiding will as surely as there is a well placed drip. The essence of the Creator always remains, regardless of the shape, place or make-up of the drip. During its short lifetime, the drip experiences a wide range of events. The most impressive events are its "splats." Splats are not to be confused with splashes, because those are a bunch of drips doing their individual splats all at once. Splash! See? Being a drip always has its moments, too. It is hard for a drip to be dripped on, but it is theoretically possible, during free fall. That would be like being "soul mates" in human terms. Humans have no way of knowing about the drips except through eye contact and observation. I like drips, and haven’t met a drip I didn’t like. Of course anyone can get upset about some drips, but at my age, there is a lot more patience and understanding toward them. After all, they are so short lived, it is important to forgive those unpleasant ones on the rare occasions when they caused embarrassment or displeasure. Remember all the drips that left with our fond memories of them. I’ve observed how some are influenced by drips. There is the whole gamut of reactions – some funny, some tickled, sad, relief, accidental, surprised, but always colorful. The personal drip is what is most common to all humans, such as the "drippy nose." I’ve had hay-fever all my life, so drips and torrents have poured forth from these nostrils, unabated at times, many times. This brings up the premature burial of a drip, blowing ones nose or wiping sweat from the brow. The potential of every drip should be honored and blowing noses or wiping sweat should be against the law. I say this with one kleenex tissue at hand, because I’ve found that if the nose is not blown it will become "stuffed" and the drips will just start falling from the eyes, thereby becoming teardrips. The ability of the body to release drips is uncaning, beyond the scope of this book too. I have many spots on my ties to identify how hard drips try! I could have eaten that whole spoonful of soup, but no, a wayward drip had to make a splat. The problem here is that drip see, drip do! Other drips of soup soon splattered and splashed over the areas of my tie. I bury my ties, and all the brother and sister drips with it. Maybe that’s wise or maybe it should be burned. I truly don’t know of any correct protocol on this matter. When the drip finally comes to the end of its time, as a splat, it is important to notice that its fluidity disappears, vanishes, possibly ascending into heaven? This is true! The color may remain but the drip ascends or evaporates into the ethers back to the Creator. It’s almost too human, isn’t it? But feel good about the passing drip. It’s now in a better place free of its physical self. Let me hasten to state that anyone might still hear that drip during dreams and know that all is well with it in its new place of being. There are no nationalities of drips, but there are drip cultures. Yet for all their seeming differences they are all alike in their physical characteristics. A drip drips and splats, every single one of them.
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About the Book
The Optimum Soul Environment
The titles of the three parts are Drip, Drip, Drip (The Well Placed Drip), Pick Me! Pick Me! and The Lights Upon the Horizon. Drip, Drip, Drip is about the simple event of a drip. It asks the reader to acknowledge that if there is meaning in the universe, that the smallest drip has purpose! If the smallest drip has meaning, think how important and meaningful every moment of your life becomes. This part prepares the reader for Pick Me! Pick Me! This is about kickball at a time of youthful exuberance, when the real purpose of that period of a kid's life was to play! The reader is then exposed to the meaning of "light" in the last story.
The Lights Upon the Horizon is about what makes living a special event. It is about creating a philosophy of life as a way of living. It is the hoped that the three short Life Moments provided herein will be enlightening. Readers may find them creative, historical and maybe even humorous, but hopefully inspirational. A major part of writing these stories was in the pleasure, moment by moment.
About the Author
Looking back, Dan is aware of how important the people that came into his life were, and how interesting that they were in his life at just the right time. His brother, Big Jack, was the best athlete, and during their growing up Dan was "pitted" against the best. Big Jack challenged him daily to stretch himself and develop his physical abilities, in order to compete with Jack one on one. Leaving high school and the Canal Zone was a dramatic step into the unknown, but few would know how determined Dan was to succeed and make his family proud. In college, he had an extraordinarily inspiring teacher for architectural studies. Mr. George Winterowd taught design and history of architecture. Mr. Winterowd made positive comments on Dan's design abilities and transferred an enthusiasm and knowledge of architectural history to him. Following graduate school, Dan apprenticed with an architectural firm in New Orleans and later the Planning Department for the City of High Point in North Carolina. He began his own professional career, establishing the firm, Daniel G. Winklosky & Associates, in 1968. It was about this time that Mr. Gardner Gidley came into Dan's life as an associate, later partner, but always as his mentor. While visiting in the Canal Zone, 1963, Kitty and Dan met, married within three months and later enjoyed growing older with two sons, Gary and Ward. The marriage lasted thirty years. Dan's life seemed to flow freely, as if he were a spirit of the universe. His parents, sister, Mary Ann, and Big Jack understood. Later his mentors would come to know that Dan was "not all there" and tried to keep part of him in touch with reality. Today, he looks forward to the future with confidence that there will appear in his life many new friends. Some of them will undoubtedly be mentors.