Blogging Return

 Blogging Return

    I've been debating a return to blogging. For a while it seemed like every time I'd start to write, something would pull me away! Look! Squirrel! 

    Oh, but I've been writing. That's the thing. Only about something different than what I'd put up here over the years. You see I've been writing sermons. Times have changed and so have I in a lot of ways. Growth is good though. Now, where can they be read? Well, nowhere and everywhere. You see I started a Podcast specifically for my ministry. If you're interested, feel free to check it out. It's called "Healing Scars with Pastor Burton" and is available to stream on a ton of platforms. Spotify, IHeartRadio, Apple Podcasts, Google Podcasts, Deezer, RSS.com, Amazon Music, Audible, and so many more. 

    The first episode was put out just before the new year. Here in a couple of weeks, it's actually going to be a solid 6 months running, with at least 1 new episode posted every Friday. Watching the analytics has been fun because I'm seeing more and more countries pop up as well. As of this writing, it's been listened to on every continent except Antartica. It would be sweet to see, however that may be a bit ambitious. Time will tell though. I've actually thought about taking those sermons, and creating a blog just to post them in. Not everyone listens to podcasts after all. It's interesting that that's the platform that's being used as I rarely listen to podcasts myself! Perhaps, I should turn on a camera when I'm recording and start posting to YouTube as well? Or Rumble even? 

    I logged in here and was surprised to see so many people keep checking in from time to time too. Blogging isn't dead! YAY! 

    Have you ever looked back on your own blog to see how you've changed over the years? I used to cuss a lot, drink, and smoke (tobacco), and that's all turned around. Well, let's be honest, I still cuss but not nearly as much, and rarely drink. When I do it's at home. Thanks for letting me ramble today. 

~B

Music to My Ears.

Years ago I learned how to play music. Not as much by choice but because the school I went to required two years. The first year everyone picked up the recorder. Typical. The next year however, everyone had to pick an instrument. Keep in mind I commuted to school from the next town over. So by the time I arrived to try picking out my instrument, many had already been filled up. Percussion? Filled. Trumpet? Filled. Sax? Filled. I ended up with a flute. Yes, my first instrument was the piece of metal that was given new life as a dirty joke. At the time I thought it was a joke too.Fast forward a few years, and I not only learned to appreciate it, but loved it. I played right into my Junior High days. Then change was about to happen.

Teenage angst was setting in. The bad director I had was a... well 30 years later and I still can't find a word to describe my disdain. Not only did I get the flute jokes from other band members, and the student body, but was belittled by this toxic life form for the same thing. I no longer wanted to play. I kept my flute at home and made a change. I finally went to the percussion section. Xylophone, tympani, bells, cymbals, etc. You put me behind them, and I wasn't going to just play them. I was going to beat them! My anger and frustration went into whatever I was going to be playing for a given song. And he hated it.

Enter my dad. He played guitar since he was a kid, and picked up piano/ keyboards along the way by ear. He'd played with many a band, and had tried to teach me some guitar, but I didn't want it at the time. So he did the next best thing, and bought me a drum kit. At this point I didn't like playing in front of people much because of said band director. I'd mess around sometimes with friends. My pleasure was much more in the confines of home though. I'd crank the stereo, or put on my headphones, and would kick that kit for all I was worth in high school.

Then of course life happened. I went to a military school, enlisted in the Marine Corps, had a child, and on and on. When I finally came home to the US. My beloved flute was long gone, lost amongst my parents moving. My drums were destroyed by a bad roommate of my future stepdad's when my folks split. The only music in my life was the radio, cd's, and old cassettes. I accepted it for years. I tried getting into the whole guitar hero thing with my kids. And while the drums were good "FOR A GAME". They weren't the real thing. I had a hole begging to be filled.

The day finally came to fill that hole. I'd been looking around some local music stores. One day, my dad was in town and asked me if I could get any instrument there, which one would I choose? Thinking is was a hypothetical question I answered honestly and showed him the bass guitar I'd had my eye on. I don't know what it was, but I was just drawn to her. He bought her on the spot along with an amp. My jaw dropped!

The day I brought Ol' Blue home.

My journey back into music was rekindled. My ex thought I was wasting my time. So I'd spend what time I could back in the bedroom (sexy I know) getting to know my new found love. Not long after I had started to get to know her, tragedy struck. My dad died unexpectedly. I couldn't even look at Ol' Blue without wanting to cry. So she was put away for a couple years. Once in a while I'd try, but couldn't. Finally, enough time went by and I not only could bring her out of her confinement, but I started getting to know her all over again. Just a little at a time. It was like I was able to spend time with my dad.

Fast forward a little bit, and the church was looking for a bassist. I didn't say anything at first. And then a friend, who knew I played a little, told the music director. I explained I was just learning and didn't think I'd be up to par. Really it was because after all those years, I was still that kid that didn't want to play for people anymore. But after some discussion I went out, and a couple weeks later found myself stepping into a band again. It was different this time. I wasn't playing for people, I was serving the Lord! While it wasn't exactly my style of music, that didn't matter anymore. The game had changed!

The Artist hanging out on stage.

A a rapid rate I found myself starting on just mid-week service, to playing mid-week and all Sunday services as well. It was exciting. And then it got more exciting. Mid-week service went away during the summer do to so many things happening in the church and there not being prep-time. But when they came back, we found ourselves doing an acoustic night, since our keys man was leading the Youth service now. So I found myself an acoustic/electric bass to go with the sound. She's gotten a lot of praise. And then another change had taken its toll as well.

My violin bass Happy Camper.

 I'd sustained a back injury at work and needed something a little lighter than Ol' Blue. Enter Happy Camper. And just like any other instrument, they each have their own personality and sound. I've found myself switching out between the three, depending on what day it is, what we're playing, or just plain how I'm feeling.

That hole has been filled. I have music in it's rawest form back in my life. And when I'm down, it really helps. It transcends just listening. I hear it, feel it, clear my head, spend time with loved ones past, and most importantly learn. Whether it's a technique, and adjustment to a song, or a riff that's in my head, I'm a student of music. I enjoy playing again. Not only am I part of a band of people I respect, I'm part of the greatest band on earth. God's band. You'll find them in your local church, with varying styles of play and worship.

Now you're probably asking what the point is. And there is one. This has just been a part of my journey. NEVER LET ANYONE STEAL YOUR MUSIC. You may not find it again. Your music may be literal, or something else entirely. But it's a part of you. You can take breaks if need be. But don't lose it. Ever.

Serving with the Lords blessings upon me.

Life and Career Changes Part One

What's this? My last blog entries were New Years and 1/2 of 2015!?!?!?!?! Are you kidding me? No it's true. Holy cow does time fly when you're getting life back on track. And boy has it been a ride!

So this will be the update entry? Boooorrriiinng!It's an easy re-cap. Went back to school, and made a career change. Blah, Blah, Blah.

Yes! I left the world of the criminal justice system in the review mirror, and started working in health care. What an oxymoron of a name. Are their great people that care? Absolutely! But then they're leashed by greedy corporations, spineless administrators, and ignorant doctors (No real world smarts for many. Just what they've been spoon fed in their agenda pushing schools.) I'll say it here! Many, not all, doctor's are some of the dumbest smart people you'll ever meet! Get a nurse practitioner, you'll be better off. Nurses save lives, not doctors!

However, I have found the world of Hospice to be a true calling. Funny how even in a new career field I found myself dealing with death on the daily again. Now for some it's a scary place where people are dying. Not always the case! Many people do come improve and come off of hospice care. For some, it's just a way to get better funding from the insurance powers that be, to provide better care for people. That is the bottom line right? Get the best possible care? Sadly though, most don't come off of it. But the relationships you develop with both the patients and their families are amazing.

In just providing care in this area, I found something I'd been missing for years. The work that I was doing MADE A DIFFERENCE! The people I've formed relationships with and have cared for have given me a gift beyond anything you'd get elsewhere. A fresh breath of life. They've shared advise, past experiences, regrets, triumph's, failures, and even first love! While some have feared the end of life as we know it, and what's beyond that veil. Other's have embraced it, and let everyone around them know that they love them and will see them again when they go home.

I've seen things in my life that have given me chills. Nothing has gotten to me more than those who have said, "I'm going to die in 3 days." And then it happens! It's crazy! And for me it's re-affirmation of life after death. It's also drawn me closer to my ministry work.

Life: Relationships at Work

We go through many transitions in life. One that most of us see is in how friendships change as we change jobs. I'm starting one of those transitions right now.

There are a couple of ways in which this happens. One, you become a supervisor, and as such relationship dynamics with other workers have to change in order for you to be effective at what you do. Two, you leave your work place and begin work some place new. I've had experience in both areas. At the moment, the later is the one I'm transitioning with.

NM OMI, our new building we moved into October 2010

I've been at my current position at the New Mexico Office of the Medical Examiner for a number of years. I've seen people come and go, and have forged good relations with many of my co-workers. Those who have been here for a long period of time, and in some cases longer than me, aren't just co-workers, but are my work family. We've seen highs and lows together, joked around, and worked hard together. We have special dynamics in which we don't even have to talk sometimes. Instead we know simply by a nod, gesture, look, or where we're at in our work what each other needs next. Things are so smoothed out that we get things done quickly, and properly with little need to ask questions. Plus there's a certain comfort in coming in, and on a given day, seeing whose there and knowing what kind of day you'll have.

My time here is winding down though. This is my last week here, with Sunday being my last working day. While some of the relationships I've forged I know will continue into the future, others will undoubtedly come to an end. Not because we want it too, but rather because that's life. We'll think of each other from time to time, but that's where the buck with stop. So while I'll miss my family here at the OMI, I look forward to the new one I'll find waiting at my new position with T-Mobile Tech Support.

Leaving is bitter-sweet. But eventually we all part ways.

Life Change: Work

Life's changes. Sometimes they're big. Sometimes they're small. Sometimes we know that change is on the horizon, other times our body tells us for a long time before it happens. And while this applies to all areas of life, one of the most important aspects is our work life.

Everyone has a different opinion of what their work like and values are based upon their experience, and personal values. For some it's the pursuit of the almighty dollar. For others it's the pursuit of a specific position down the line. Then you have the crowd that wants a job or position for the status it brings, or the perception it appears to bring. For me, it's a mixed bag. One of the big things that I look at is, "will what I do actually help people?" Born to serve after a fashion. By helping others, I'm looking at doing something that can actually make a difference for them. Money isn't that important. It just can't be minimum wage It needs to be consistent with a real cost of living for my family. Basically, anything is better than what I made in the military. And ultimately, is this a place I'll be happy with? I do some research to see how people who do, or have worked there feel about it. And I look at how the serviced community looks at it as well.

So what does this have to do with change? I'll tell you. A lot. First there's the physical. When you don't like where you are, or what you do, we have a tendency to let ourselves go. I'm not talking about just not exercising, though that fits in here as well. I'm talking health. We get sick, and just ride it out. We get migraines just thinking about work. Have you ever been so unhappy with where you are, that you throw up just pulling up to work? I have. It just makes a bad thing worse. There's nothing worse than going into a staff meeting, or even just your desk and having to make sure you have a waste basket first thing. You know, just in case Uncle Spew shows up.Then you have the mental. Everyone thinks about work at some point when they go home. It's not always a bad thing. But when you're unhappy, you get migraines, your blood pressure skyrockets, and just someone mentioning that pesky, four letter word W-O-R-K, is enough for you to scream, "Crap, what now!?!?!" Life just becomes one big turd that's snowballing down hill at this point.

So your body can be screaming, it's time for a change. Change is GOOD! Yes, that's right. For one, it takes you out of a bad environment. You get a clean slate in a new one. The problematic people that made work bad... gone. It's all new. While that in itself can instill fear, it's really a point for you to realize you have experience to bring to the table, and a fresh start to get things spinning the way you want. Life is good! Not only that, but this is the next step in your career path and will make you more marketable whether you stay at this place until retirement, or move somewhere else. You're braving a new path.

So if you're feeling like garbage all the time. Or just feel like you're in a rut, take a look at where you work. Are you really happy there? Do you like what you do? If you answered "no" to either of these questions, it's time to move on. This may seem like common sense, but in reality a lot of us are miserable out in the world. And it can often be because of what we do, or where we do it. Change is the solution. It's not as scary as it seems, just different.

Listen to your body. Listen to your heart. Listen to your mind. Do you need change?

Adventures in Life

A lot of things change as we get older. When we're kids, we didn't necessarily have a lot of choice in how we spent our nights. But staying at a friends or relatives was usually great. Camping even better. But it was whatever was alright with the folks. Then we finally got that freedom to do as we pleased. Oh man, it's like dropping a tone of raw meat in a shark tank.

I think back to some nights before I enlisted and some of my early years in the military, and I shudder to think of some of the stuff I would do. A great night out was loading up some of the guys, and going down to Mexico for a night of booze, loud Mexican music, soggy chips, salsa, and then making the trek to Denny's after drunkenly testing the fates and coming back home. Yeah, I'm glad the folks didn't learn of that until years later.

A night out in Ishikawa, Okinawa, Japan.

Then came my service years. The first part of it, you could easily find me at an E-Club, or a local hole with some booze, loud music, or even some karaoke. This was usually topped off with the Okinawa offerings of yakisoba, taco rice and cheese, or one of the biggest corn dog's you ever imagined. There was usually more drinking to be done after returning to the barracks as well.

Gate 1 outside of Cp Hansen in Okinawa. Nothing but restaurants and bars.

The next phase I'm not sure how it came about. Either as my time as an MP dealing with drunks, dealing with drunks in the barracks, or just generally being tired of boozing it up. But for me at that time a good night, or weekend for that matter was SCUBA diving, sight seeing, or even just hanging out at the beach. I'd go out to the various restaurants, different beaches to lounge or dive, the various sites from the aquarium to waterfalls. It didn't matter where or what, just that it was there to be done and not in the confines of a bar, or barracks.

Playing with Nemo and his cousin in the East China Sea.

Posing with the A&W Great Root Bear in Nago, Okinawa, Japan.

Then I came back to the States, a little older, and a little wiser hopefully. And again things changed. Bars still do nothing for me. Clubs are a joke in general. There for a while a nice night out became a meal, and a movie. But even that changed quickly. There for a while I knew I wanted to do something, but I didn't know what. Going to the zoo is still a treat. A few years ago my youngest and I were treated to watching a giraffe being born.

A giraffe being born at the Albuquerque Bio Park around 2009. You can see the hooves under the mothers tale.

Sometimes going out is still the answer. Some place that isn't too rowdy, a restaurant here and there. The zoo a rare treat. But outside of taking a road trip someplace, or camping, there's one thing that I can do pretty much every night that makes me happy. Sit out on the porch with my wife, a cigar, a drink, maybe some music, and just stare off into the sky. Who'd have ever thought that a good night would become a night at home? Guess it's true. You can take the boy out the country (sometimes literally), but you can't take the country out of the boy.

You can see my bench  a little on the far left.

It's funny how things change.