Like the journey of the spectral Flying Dutchman, the legendary ship condemned to ply the seas endlessly, the voyage of the freighter Pelicano seemed destined to last forever.
For more than two years, it sailed around the world seeking a port that would accept its cargo. Permission was denied and for good reason. Not that there was any problem with the boat; it was seaworthy.
However, the Pelicano's hold was filled with tons of toxic incinerator ash that had been loaded onto the ship in Philadelphia in September 1986.
It simply shifts potentially hazardous waste from one place to another.
Scarcely a country on earth has been spared the scourge.

But that's beside the point, my topic is not about the Pelicano.
The plight of the Pelicano is proof. Trash-filled ships find few friends. It is also a parable.
Trash-filled hearts don't fare any better.

Relate yourself to the Pelicano.
Are you unwanted at the dock?
Drifting further from friends and family?
If so, you may want to check your heart for garbage.
Who wants to dock space to a smelly heart?

Life has a way of unloading her rubbish on our decks.
Your boyfiriend works too much.
Your girlfriend nags too much.
Your boss expects too much.
Your kids temper-tantrums too much.
The result?
Trash.
Load after load of anger, guilt, pessimism, bitterness, bigotry, anxiety, deceit, impatience.
It piles up.

Trash affects us by contaminating our relationships.

Today's thoughts is tomorrow's actions.
Today's jealousy is tmorrow's temper-tantrum.
Today's bigotry is tomorrow's crime.
Today's anger is tomorrow's abuse.
Today's lust is tomorrow's adultry.
Today's greed is tomorrow's embezzlement.
Today's guilt is tomorrow's fear.

Let trash on board and people are going to smell it.
The troubles for the Pelicano began with the first shovelful.
The crew could have turned away at the gate.
Life would have been easier if they had never allowed trash to pile up.

Some folks don't know we have an option.
To listen to our vocabulary you'd think we are the victims of our thoughts.
"Don't talk to me, I'm in a bad mood" is what we often say.
As if a mood was a place we were assigned ("I can't call you, I'm in the Middle East") rather than an emotion we permit.
Or we say, "don't mess with her. She has a bad deposition."
Is a deposition something we "have"?
Like a cold or the flu?
Are we the victims of the emtional bacteria of the season?
Or do we have a choice?

There are politics lurking everywhere, even at places where we least expected.
Amongst educators who teach about morals and success.
And parishioners who preach about Saints and Holy Business.
Has anyone ever reflected that we are the ones who allowed the presence of politics,
The presence of trash.

Your colleague backstabbed you. Injustice had been befall upon you and you felt sore.
You can seek revenge.
Does it differ you from your colleague?
You heard a juicy gossip, or even a rumour.
You can choose pass on the gossip, share it with your friends and hurt the victim.
Are you any better than trash?

Right on the batterfield, we are soldiers and the thoughts are our enemies.
Our assignment is to protect the boat and refuse entrance to trashy thoughts.
The minute they appear on the dock, we go " You aren't getting on board till you change your allegiance."

Selfishness, step back!
Envy, get lost!
Find another boat, Anger!
Capturing thoughts is serious business.

What if you did that? What if you took every thought captive? What if you let any trash enter your mind?
Easier said than done but,
Be careful what you think, because your thoughts run your life.

You are on your way to work when the words of your coworker come to your mind.
He needled you about your work performance. He second-guessed your efficiency.
Why was he so hard on you? You begin to wonder.
I didn't deserve any of that.
Who is he to criticise me? Besides, he has as much taste as a rice cake. Have you seen those shoes that he wears?

At this point you need to make a choice.
Am i going to keep a list of these wrongs?
You can.
Standing on the gangplank is Self-pity and her seven sisters.
They want on board. Are you going to let them?
If you do, you'll be as smelly as The Pelicano by the time you reach your office.

Another example: Anger at your parents is keeping you awake.
You want to sleep, but this afternoon's phone call won't let you.
As always, all they did was criticise. No compliments, no applause. Just pick pick pick.
Why aren't you married? When are you coming home? Why don't you have a good job like your cousin at the bank?
Grrr....
See that fella at the bottom of the gangplank? The one wearing the black robe? He a judge fromt he court of critical attitudes.
Judge Mental.
Let him on board and the two of you can spend the night passing out guilty verdicts.
You can alphabetize and codify all the parents' mistakes.
By morning you'll be smelling like a landfill.

Just because there is trash on the dock, does not mean there must be trash on your ship.
You are not a victim of your thoughts.
You have a vote.
You hav a voice.
You can excercies though prevention.
You can also excercise thought permission.
Or would you rather stick with your long list of wrongs and stinky cargo, drifting from port to port.