The Easter Egg Hunt

As a wee lad our author’s parents enlisted him in a hunt for hidden Easter Eggs with other wee little lads and lasses.

The hunt began and our author dashed to a cache of colorful eggs.  He began to fill his bucket, the biggest bucket he could find from his parents inventory of toys.

When the wee legs of other hunters arrived our author picked up his bucket and looked to find the next cache.  He scampered past a cache already being harvested and came upon a fresh cache.

As he squatted to gather the new load - his tall bucket tipped over spilling all his loot.

Unfazed, our author quickly aggregated enough eggs to make up for the spill. Again wee legs arrived and again he departed for the next cache with a bucket half-full.

Arriving at the next cache and squatting to gather the colorful eggs, our author’s bucket again tipped over spilling all his loot.

Slightly fazed, a thought of “not again” occurred for our wee author.  Determined to fill his big bucket, our little author quickly compiled the spilt eggs and some eggs from this cache.  By the time other wee legs arrived, our author’s bucket was three-quarters full!

He looked around and spied the last cache.  With potential for a major score of eggs available, our author sprinted to this final cache.  He arrived without spilling any of his eggs during the sprint.

But when he squatted to gather those last few eggs, his tall bucket tipped over spilling his entire loot, again.

More fazed — by the time he finished his wide-eyed thought, “Ohhh no! Not again!”  the other wee egg hunters arrived and gathered-up all the eggs, leaving our author with none.

Totally fazed, our author began to wail for empty was his pail.  His mother came to fetch her crying boy and escorted him to the boundary of the hunting field.  As he balled by his mothers knee, the other hunters began to leave with their parents.  Some parents asked his mother what had our author torn in tears.  When she told them, their wee lad or lass would deposit an egg or two in our author’s bucket.  As his bucket filled his sobbing subsided.  Soon he reached contentment when his tall bucket was half-full.

Join My Culture

My Culture is a chillin’ and active style of behavior dedicated to building and maintaining positive, healthy, expansive relationships by acknowledging and respecting boundaries and expectations openly and honestly, with self-control, gentleness, faithfulness, generosity, kindness, patience, peace, joy and love.

Join my Culture and validate the Spirit!

What makes this My Culture?

By dedicating yourself to these values, they become yours, and in acquisition, the objective becomes subjective, from you to me.

What does it mean to Join My Culture?

It means to be beacons of light, vibing for the dedication.  For those with a strong resolve that means being an example of the dedication in a negative, unhealthy, contractive cult and culture.  For those building their resolve, it means connecting with Us, our bridges of loving support.

One example of being an example of the dedication to chillin’ activity is driving on the highway.  Always cruisin’ and never white knuckle grippin’, burnin’ excess gas, rubber and brakes, unless, of course, to do so would preserve life!  A dude or Betty of proficient chillin’ activity can move swiftly without burnin’ too much gas, rubber and brakes, keeping distance and allowing other travelers their space, and peace.

You’re in a Cult

You are in a Cult, and the dude will prove it.

Cult is short for culture.

What is culture?

Culture is behavior.

Really?

Yes.  Here is how, the way society describes cult’s and culture is by describing individual behavior.  With that understanding any degree of behavior demonstrates culture.  

Now when society thinks of cult’s and culture, typically, cults are on the fringe of society and in small proportion to the population.  Whereas culture might be used to describe more common behaviors of the society as a whole.

Do you have a job?  Do you behave in a similar way to your colleagues?  Maybe you are part of corporate culture, or simply discovered the way to behave at a unique mom and pop shop.

Do you enjoy an activity?  Guess what you are part of that cult and culture also.

How about belief?  Well, behavior is predicated on belief, so inherently, any belief is part of a cult and culture.

For the Thinkers

Before his togetherness with Lady Heather, the author would spend cold days and nights at the local dive.  The dirty staff grew annoyed that in their midst was a teetotaler, Tyler.  Eventually, he gave-in to peer pressure.  As he sat there in the dive bar he began to drink, so the drink may be drunk, but not so much that he’d be drunk.  He sat there, drank, and attempted to devise a scheme to get paid.  A realization occured and he broke out into song.

I’ve been thinkin’

and I’ve been drinkin’

- they don’t go together