Writing Reality

  There’s a difference between a violent death and a death of acceptance. A violent death is as you watch what is happening to you. As much as you know it’s coming, you still witness it only as an outsider. It’s too intense to stay inside the vessel that is being assaulted. I know I’ve been there.   A death of acceptance is one, where you know your time is short. Before you lay down, you know that if you wake up still in this operating vessel then you have lived another breath or so. You breath in such a way that the pattern is unhurried. There’s no rush, you just breathe. Your breath becomes slower and slower; and then you’re asleep. Perhaps you dream dreams and then either wake up or not. Somehow, I know I’ve been there. This is perhaps because I have an exceptionally low pulse. I have had a low pulse nearly all my life. I became aware of it by age ten. Then I would test it. I was compelled to test the control of my pulse as to not have to take asthma and bee sting medicat...

Yesterday was a sad day for the purple tank top. I'd received it when I arrived at the Roseland 5K Race in June of 1995. I'd worn it proudly as often as possible on my training runs thereafter. I'd won the race that day and set the women's course record. Which astonished me. I wasn't all that fast after going through the first mile in 5:07, I knew I'd pay. I had an added pain going into the race. I felt as if someone put crazy glue and duct tape inside my right groin, let it set for an hour and then ripped off the duct tape. It was that raw, scraping feeling. Only to find out later in the one doctor's office I knew was available on an early Saturday afternoon. "Jody, you have shingles. Didn't you see the blisters in your groin?" I replied, "Well I saw 2 small things, but didn't even think of it last night. And this morning I was too mentally busy getting ready for the race. I had no clue." 1995 was already a running disaster. Yet ...

  Reflecting back many times over 40 years ago today. Norman, my now deceased husband took me for a hike on a late Friday afternoon to propose. After about 1.5 miles up the mountain,  he'd picked a fallen tree and asked me to sit eye to eye with him. We were equals even in the proposal. Then he'd popped the question,  "Would you like to be my equal partner in marriage?" He'd asked. I was taken completely off guard. Yet I knew to say, "Yes." I'd paused for a second in disbelief. He went to ask a second time. Our words converged. My "Yes", won out. Soon, we were married. Oddly enough I'd sworn off marriage nearly all my life until Norman. Too, any intimacy with anyone. The thoughts of marriage and love ebbed and flowed tauntingly till that moment.  My parents had a horrible marriage. Women were mere possessions in my family. Many an ogre and some rapists ruled them. The rapist had a devout Catholic wife that had gone to the priests to cu...

  They’ll convince you that it’s about national security. As I’d been reading up on Richard M. Nixon in Nixonland by Rich Perlstein and other sources. Our country’s politics with controlling the masses to gain power and advance one’s riches—It was from Nixon’s Playbook like a recent myth, “They’re eating your cats and dogs…” The only people that would be eating your cats and dogs would be the members of the GOP, so greedy to do so. Why? Because they want you to be dismayed. They want to oppress you and manipulate your rights to make themselves rich. And currently, they’re having their way with you and your soul. No church, mosque, temple nor shul will save it. In the late 1940s into the 1950s, McCarthy had gone after Alger Hiss, a high-ranking state department official for espionage. Whitaker Chambers, a Russian spy of sorts handed the name Alger Hiss over to save himself. Chambers delivers Alger Hiss to be questioned in front of congress by McCarthy, then Nixon. [1] They were ...

I remember September 27th, 1985, I drove through it to work before it ramped up to a ridiculous nearly deadly event for me. Our boss never called us in time. The CEOs assistant secretary was given the job by our boss to call; however, it was our boss Sandy who was the one who was to make the call. She'd put it off on someone else. Sheer laziness on her part. Sandy only had 4-5 of us to call that morning.   After I'd entered the Cushman & Wakefield property accounting office , I was told to leave the building. Three of us had to get property values/accounting done. Kathy was in,Hathy came in after me. The building manager asked why we were there. The three of us never got the call. I had the furthest to drive back home. We finished the job for the firm in Manhattan by 8:30 that morning. I always came in early, especially if I knew it would or could be bad weather. No excuse not to show up. I had gone for a run in this crap too before work which was nothing compared to my ...

          The next evening it was then revealed to us at the dinner table by my dad about his relative, Aunt Grace who was a Christian Science Practitioner. Dad told stories of who’d been healed when she’d come over and prayed with and for them when dad was a child. One story went like so: My dad’s index finger was to be amputated the next day he was about age 10. Aunt Grace came over the night before and had the family of four at the time hold hands and pray with her together. The next morning the infection was gone, and the index finger was mostly healed.         The second story dad told that night was about his dad/Gramp. Apparently, Gramp suffered from outbreaks of boils. Gramp worked two and three jobs at time to provide for Nana and their children. Aunt Grace upon hearing her brother’s dilemma arrived at their house another night and said prayers with Gramp and the family. After that night, Gramp never had a boil on his bod...