Hello again my friends, it is time for a little game. If you could change just one habit or behavior you have held for more than 5 years, what would it be. For me it used to be smoking. I smoked for 50 years before, through God's grace, I was finally able to stop.
I, however, cannot ever leave well enough alone so I have to try and change something else. Of all my striving towards perfection what key behavior still bothers me most? It is hard to decide because my faults range from the physical, to the mental, to the spiritual and each category needs a lot of work.
First, the physical or health: I need to lose at least 20 lbs.
I need to get more exercise.
These two behaviors are important because with COPD you cannot cure the disease, it is progressive. What you can do is influence the body's ability to take in and more efficiently utilize oxygen.
Secondly, mental or discipline: I tend to put things off and wait until either time or circumstance
force me to act.
I have to organize my paperwork better for my husband and heirs.
I have to dispose of my excess possessions before they create a
problem for the previously mentioned.
Thirdly, Spiritual or Soul: I want to be kinder to others in my thoughts and erase
negative feelings I hold; to eliminate hate from my heart.
I want to better understand and more completely follow
the teachings of Jesus, as they have come down to us.
So given all of the above what should I focus on first. In order of priority I believe the last should be first. Love and kindness and understanding should always be at the forefront of all our activities.
Love your God with all your heart and your neighbor as yourself, to paraphrase.
A part of loving one's neighbor is taking care of their interests before one's passing. So I believe I should focus on the second, second. Lastly, I should focus on number one. In more ways than One.
Ideally I can do all things in God. With sacred help and guidance I can make progress in several direction as long as I keep my priorities straight, and do not get sucked in to superfluous activities which benefit no one.
So my fellow players, what life changing activities would you like to focus on. Life either is or is not a game. If it is, one needs to move one's pieces in such a way as to win. If it is not, then it is all the more important to get straight with what is most important and create one's own destiny. One's character is one's destiny. Is it not? "To be or not to be, that is the question......"
I apologize for the previous paragraph. I could not help myself. :)
Friday, September 6, 2013
Tuesday, September 3, 2013
Rich!
Riches come from all directions and in all times. What made me feel rich in my youth was how many colored neckerchiefs I owned to dress my dolls in, and how many little glass horses and Black Stallion books I had. When Daddy gave me a real horse when I was nine, I felt like the richest girl in the world. All of my dreams had come true.
In high school I felt rich because I had a BFF for the school year, Christa, and a BFF for the summer, Eileen. I felt rich because I had a Public Library with what seemed like all the books in the world. Those books made me feel truly rich because they could carry a poor little girl from Slab City N.Y. to all the places on earth, through whatever historical time I choose. Some of my favorite books in that day were Pearl S. Buck novels. I think I read them all. China, that far off land, fascinated me. I did however, also read Lady Chatterley's Lover, and Payton Place. I had a vociferous appetite to read and learn about everything
I was very slow in beginning to read. Mr. Gant in fourth grade was the one who taught me to read. My first real book was "Polly Kent Rides West". I remember the title because it was such a momentous achievement for me and my family. It was finally decided that, other evidence to the contrary, I wasn't a total dingbat and was in fact teachable. I guess that was a richness of another kind.
I felt really rich when I graduated from high school and Daddy gave me a car. Granted it was a 1950 Chevy in 1961 and cost only $50.00, but I was in Hog heaven. I drove it all summer, but of course it reverted back to Dad when I went to college in the fall of 1961. In the beginning, the first two weeks, at Geneseo, I felt awesome. I was living away from home, I loved the campus and my new roommate, and I felt the world was wide open. Unfortunately that didn't last. I had carried myself along to college with me, and I had a very poor self image. I felt poor, ugly and dumb and my grades and social activities reflected that. I pledged for 4 sororities but was chosen by none. I didn't have the clothes or spending money the others had so I worked in the cafeteria on the breakfast shift. I started skipping classes and drinking at the kegs. My grades were lousy but I hung on the first semester. I had only chosen my major, speech therapy, because it wasn't offered in any of the Potsdam area colleges. So I found I hated the beginning speech classes, and the teachers who taught them. I was crazy, boy crazy by this time, but no nice boys were interested. I did hold to my standards, however, so was mainly dateless my first semester. I had one interesting episode of potential date rape with a beefy young lad from the next town over. When I told him my father was a Deputy Sheriff in Potsdam, and if anything happened to me my Dad would hunt him down and kill him; he promptly backed off. I got out of the car and started to walk back to the dormitories, a distance of about 6 miles, but my date pulled up beside me and reluctantly said he would drive me back. All the way back he sang a take off on the song "Your the Reason I don't sleep at night" but substituted the word screw. Some things you never forget!
The second semester I discover a romantic interest in the drama club, a young man named Berry. He looked a little ape like, long arms and very hairy, but he had a certain charisma and was one of the most popular upper class men at Geneseo. I fell for him hard but he barely knew of my existence. I volunteered for everything surrounding the theater group. Stage painting, makeup, costumes, lighting, you name it. All to just be around my hero. My grades fell like an avalanche and I was flunked out my second semester. I went home to tears and desperation on the part of my mother, and a certain grim acceptance from my father. There was a rainbow and silver lining to all this, however. I was able to finally embark on my richest and most cherished dream. I left with my friend Christa, and her Mom, to New York City.
My riches were just beginning.
In high school I felt rich because I had a BFF for the school year, Christa, and a BFF for the summer, Eileen. I felt rich because I had a Public Library with what seemed like all the books in the world. Those books made me feel truly rich because they could carry a poor little girl from Slab City N.Y. to all the places on earth, through whatever historical time I choose. Some of my favorite books in that day were Pearl S. Buck novels. I think I read them all. China, that far off land, fascinated me. I did however, also read Lady Chatterley's Lover, and Payton Place. I had a vociferous appetite to read and learn about everything
I was very slow in beginning to read. Mr. Gant in fourth grade was the one who taught me to read. My first real book was "Polly Kent Rides West". I remember the title because it was such a momentous achievement for me and my family. It was finally decided that, other evidence to the contrary, I wasn't a total dingbat and was in fact teachable. I guess that was a richness of another kind.
I felt really rich when I graduated from high school and Daddy gave me a car. Granted it was a 1950 Chevy in 1961 and cost only $50.00, but I was in Hog heaven. I drove it all summer, but of course it reverted back to Dad when I went to college in the fall of 1961. In the beginning, the first two weeks, at Geneseo, I felt awesome. I was living away from home, I loved the campus and my new roommate, and I felt the world was wide open. Unfortunately that didn't last. I had carried myself along to college with me, and I had a very poor self image. I felt poor, ugly and dumb and my grades and social activities reflected that. I pledged for 4 sororities but was chosen by none. I didn't have the clothes or spending money the others had so I worked in the cafeteria on the breakfast shift. I started skipping classes and drinking at the kegs. My grades were lousy but I hung on the first semester. I had only chosen my major, speech therapy, because it wasn't offered in any of the Potsdam area colleges. So I found I hated the beginning speech classes, and the teachers who taught them. I was crazy, boy crazy by this time, but no nice boys were interested. I did hold to my standards, however, so was mainly dateless my first semester. I had one interesting episode of potential date rape with a beefy young lad from the next town over. When I told him my father was a Deputy Sheriff in Potsdam, and if anything happened to me my Dad would hunt him down and kill him; he promptly backed off. I got out of the car and started to walk back to the dormitories, a distance of about 6 miles, but my date pulled up beside me and reluctantly said he would drive me back. All the way back he sang a take off on the song "Your the Reason I don't sleep at night" but substituted the word screw. Some things you never forget!
The second semester I discover a romantic interest in the drama club, a young man named Berry. He looked a little ape like, long arms and very hairy, but he had a certain charisma and was one of the most popular upper class men at Geneseo. I fell for him hard but he barely knew of my existence. I volunteered for everything surrounding the theater group. Stage painting, makeup, costumes, lighting, you name it. All to just be around my hero. My grades fell like an avalanche and I was flunked out my second semester. I went home to tears and desperation on the part of my mother, and a certain grim acceptance from my father. There was a rainbow and silver lining to all this, however. I was able to finally embark on my richest and most cherished dream. I left with my friend Christa, and her Mom, to New York City.
My riches were just beginning.
Monday, September 2, 2013
I'm dying to know
I'm really interested, but I do not know how to solve this problem. I frequently find from my stats that I have people following my blog from Germany, the Netherlands and Russia, among the countries I sort of expected. I know it is hard to leave comments on the blog unless you are already signed up for Google +, but I would love to have your feedback. If you have Google + please leave me some comments. Those who access me through face book can leave a comment or message on my timeline. Those who have my email can of course email me. Since I am putting so much of myself out there I would just like to know who is listening(IE. reading). Thanks.
Sunday, September 1, 2013
Sunday Morning
It is Sunday morning, September1, 2013 and in a few more minutes I will be going to Church. Why bother, you might ask. You all know me for what I am. Sarcastic, gossipy, lazy, materialistic, irreverent, and very critical of religions in general. So why would this woman be going to church? Does she think a few minutes in a sacred environment will change her? Does she not notice that her pew mates share some of her characteristic's and that in fact some of them may be even worse than she is?
No, I am not silly enough to believe an hour or more in church is going to change the bad habits or thoughts, or actions of me or anyone else. In fact it could be even worse. I might become sanctimonious, believing that because I spend an hour thinking of and worshiping a higher power, I might be better than those who do not, or who worship differently.
I know God, if he exists, and I do believe he does; is too big for any religion or church and he gathers to himself any who wish to be with him anywhere, from gutter to mountaintop, and loves us all equally.
So why am I happy about going to church today? I am happy because I look forward to greeting my friends, with whom I have worked for years, on projects and missions which bring comfort and aid to many others in my community and world. I am happy to sit in my pew and say the old prayers, sing the old hymns and listen to the reading from our ancient texts. I am blessed to listen to a live sermon from our pastor who illuminates with compassion and love the trials we face in our daily life, and offers comfort and support for those who seek it.
I become present in a holy environment, "For where two or three have gathered together in My name, I am there in their midst."
I feel I walk with my God, each day of my life. I am in a holy presence whenever I turn my thoughts to that which is so much greater than I. I cannot hope, in this life, to ever know the answers to all my questions. I do know, however, that I did not create myself and that neither I not anything else is accident or chance or natural selection. Where accident, chance and natural selection play a part in the creator's plan I am unable to fathom. I know in my most present moments, my darkest thoughts, my most destitute moments, I feel the action and presence of God and he sustains me.
Church service is a moment in time where I share with others our belief in the divine and holy being who creates, sustains and destroys each of us in turn in this life; and who one exists in, eternally.
No, I am not silly enough to believe an hour or more in church is going to change the bad habits or thoughts, or actions of me or anyone else. In fact it could be even worse. I might become sanctimonious, believing that because I spend an hour thinking of and worshiping a higher power, I might be better than those who do not, or who worship differently.
I know God, if he exists, and I do believe he does; is too big for any religion or church and he gathers to himself any who wish to be with him anywhere, from gutter to mountaintop, and loves us all equally.
So why am I happy about going to church today? I am happy because I look forward to greeting my friends, with whom I have worked for years, on projects and missions which bring comfort and aid to many others in my community and world. I am happy to sit in my pew and say the old prayers, sing the old hymns and listen to the reading from our ancient texts. I am blessed to listen to a live sermon from our pastor who illuminates with compassion and love the trials we face in our daily life, and offers comfort and support for those who seek it.
I become present in a holy environment, "For where two or three have gathered together in My name, I am there in their midst."
I feel I walk with my God, each day of my life. I am in a holy presence whenever I turn my thoughts to that which is so much greater than I. I cannot hope, in this life, to ever know the answers to all my questions. I do know, however, that I did not create myself and that neither I not anything else is accident or chance or natural selection. Where accident, chance and natural selection play a part in the creator's plan I am unable to fathom. I know in my most present moments, my darkest thoughts, my most destitute moments, I feel the action and presence of God and he sustains me.
Church service is a moment in time where I share with others our belief in the divine and holy being who creates, sustains and destroys each of us in turn in this life; and who one exists in, eternally.
Wednesday, August 28, 2013
A quick poem for my readers
So I sit down to write
even though the timings tight
There is so little time
to even think of rhyme
So many things to do
and I am stuck with you
I promised self last night
that today I'd write
Other people's poems
often read like tomes
I want my lines to run
and frolic very lightly
so once you've left the page
you'll come back, maybe nightly?
even though the timings tight
There is so little time
to even think of rhyme
So many things to do
and I am stuck with you
I promised self last night
that today I'd write
Other people's poems
often read like tomes
I want my lines to run
and frolic very lightly
so once you've left the page
you'll come back, maybe nightly?
Thursday, August 22, 2013
So I'm trying to be optimistic again
O.K. I just gotta do this even if it is short. It is like meditation or exercise, you must be consistent or it is no good. I did practically nothing today but I did read the great article Nick posted from cracked.com. I can't keep thinking about the article. I cannot say anything better and the guy really made me think. It seems like a long time ago when I thought like that. I have really become a pessimist and for no good reason as nothing bad has happened to me personally..
I think it all really began with our invasion of Iraq and finding the later truth of no nuclear weapons. I watched our "shock and awe" and listened to our embedded reporters and thought we were doing a good thing to get rid of Saddam. I was thrilled when his statue was pulled down and I really believed we were ridding the area of a tyrant.
Then slowly the war went on, the truth came out, our killed and wounded kept coming home in body bags and stretchers; and what did we gain but unending war and bad world press? I stopped being optimistic about our country or believing anyone in power. We missed our chance to get Bin La din on the Afghanistan/Pakistan border, then came the great recession in 2007. It just kept going on and on from there. Friends and family lost jobs, homelessness and poverty grew, civil rights were challenged and voter suppression began in ernest. My most cherished hopes for a better life for all of our citizens were being eroded. I became more and more depressed, sarcastic and negative about our congress and local and state govt.
I became a member of the opposite of a tea bagger. I became an old cracked coffee potter. No relative of Harry.
Anyhoo, the cracked .com" 7 reasons the news looks worse....." gave me a new lease on optimism. I can't deny my frustrations but perhaps I can balance them more objectively and remember it is out of my hands anyway. History will judge, not I. And I loved the embedded cat video
I think it all really began with our invasion of Iraq and finding the later truth of no nuclear weapons. I watched our "shock and awe" and listened to our embedded reporters and thought we were doing a good thing to get rid of Saddam. I was thrilled when his statue was pulled down and I really believed we were ridding the area of a tyrant.
Then slowly the war went on, the truth came out, our killed and wounded kept coming home in body bags and stretchers; and what did we gain but unending war and bad world press? I stopped being optimistic about our country or believing anyone in power. We missed our chance to get Bin La din on the Afghanistan/Pakistan border, then came the great recession in 2007. It just kept going on and on from there. Friends and family lost jobs, homelessness and poverty grew, civil rights were challenged and voter suppression began in ernest. My most cherished hopes for a better life for all of our citizens were being eroded. I became more and more depressed, sarcastic and negative about our congress and local and state govt.
I became a member of the opposite of a tea bagger. I became an old cracked coffee potter. No relative of Harry.
Anyhoo, the cracked .com" 7 reasons the news looks worse....." gave me a new lease on optimism. I can't deny my frustrations but perhaps I can balance them more objectively and remember it is out of my hands anyway. History will judge, not I. And I loved the embedded cat video
Wednesday, August 21, 2013
Why I have a love/hate relationship with FB
I am led to blog again by a Facebook incident which has forced me to review once again what I am doing and why I do it. I got on Facebook a couple of years ago just to find out what it was. I discovered to my surprise that I really was enjoying my FB experience. I began to encourage my friends and family to get on it with me so we can keep in touch with what each other was thinking , enjoying, where we were traveling to and from, getting engaged or having babies....All sorts of exciting stuff I had not known about for many years. For me the benefits of FB have been mostly positive. I find that while my family seldom if ever writes and rarely cal,l they will keep in touch somewhat on FB. I am separated by a lot of miles by most of my family and friends. From India, Korea, New York, Pennsylvania, to California and Michigan, among just a few places, my friends and family are scattered far and wide. From FB I have met up again with my great nieces and nephews. Josh, Nick, Sean, Angela, are all my friends now. Their significant others Elizabeth and MerryDeath, and now little baby Natalie are on my radar, where normally I wouldn't have a clue from their parents and grandparents where they were or what was happening in their lives. I have connected with old friends Becky, Helene, Charlene, and have become much closer again, to Eileen and Jenny. I have become friends with Joretta and some of her kids and love keeping up with them. Debra is in touch much more often and I am so thrilled to be in contact with her again. Amy is in touch through FB but I have not found Dylan, Zack or Brooke yet. Blake and Kenny and Michael ignore me but perhaps it is an older guy thing. Srini too, isn't officially on FB but he reads the posts from family and his friends in martial arts and really enjoys them.
There are so many other people I would like to find and be in touch with but I forget to look for them when I'm on FB. If your out there and see me, send me a friend request.
I really enjoy posts about you and the family and the animals. I like to know where you have been. Its O.K. that you don't say where or when you are going, but I love the updates when you get back. I love to know your daily details, like comments on funny kids, kitties, dogs, or other wild life. I enjoy recipes you post, cute sayings or profound thoughts or just status updates. I like to know about family reunions, frustrations with daily life, funny things that happen or pictures you take and post.
The whole experience is mostly good.
What I do not like, however, are political statements which bad mouth others, or which put others in a bad light or try to convince others to one's point of view. I do not like religious statements for the same reason. It is one thing to mention you are campaigning for the Tea Party, Republican, Libertarian, Democrat or Progressive party, or to mention that you went to a rally, etc. It is quite another to post political rants or smear campaigns or negative cartoons or racist comments. I also do not like statements of faith which imply if you don't think or feel the same way, you are wrong and worse than that, damned. I love hymns and lovely religious music and interesting links to what my friends and relatives might also find interesting. I hate rants right out there in my face, which I am forced to hide or skip over continuously. I just do not believe FB is the forum for our deepest faith and political beliefs. There are blogs and emails which are much more suited for this type of exchange, or even links and private messages through, FB. Please just do not proselytize to me when I just want to know you better, share a few laughs and pictures, and relate to you all in a gentle way. So much for this blog. See you all again soon.
There are so many other people I would like to find and be in touch with but I forget to look for them when I'm on FB. If your out there and see me, send me a friend request.
I really enjoy posts about you and the family and the animals. I like to know where you have been. Its O.K. that you don't say where or when you are going, but I love the updates when you get back. I love to know your daily details, like comments on funny kids, kitties, dogs, or other wild life. I enjoy recipes you post, cute sayings or profound thoughts or just status updates. I like to know about family reunions, frustrations with daily life, funny things that happen or pictures you take and post.
The whole experience is mostly good.
What I do not like, however, are political statements which bad mouth others, or which put others in a bad light or try to convince others to one's point of view. I do not like religious statements for the same reason. It is one thing to mention you are campaigning for the Tea Party, Republican, Libertarian, Democrat or Progressive party, or to mention that you went to a rally, etc. It is quite another to post political rants or smear campaigns or negative cartoons or racist comments. I also do not like statements of faith which imply if you don't think or feel the same way, you are wrong and worse than that, damned. I love hymns and lovely religious music and interesting links to what my friends and relatives might also find interesting. I hate rants right out there in my face, which I am forced to hide or skip over continuously. I just do not believe FB is the forum for our deepest faith and political beliefs. There are blogs and emails which are much more suited for this type of exchange, or even links and private messages through, FB. Please just do not proselytize to me when I just want to know you better, share a few laughs and pictures, and relate to you all in a gentle way. So much for this blog. See you all again soon.
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