Writing Reality

                                                                Changing the Way… … You look at things, many people think it’s an option. However, even that may be an opinion. Remember we all have one, like… Well, I won’t mention what we all have because maybe there are those of us who don’t, have.   And that brings me to a revelation on thinking and changing one’s mind. Especially, when it comes to circumstances in life. Upon waking this morning. My thoughts drifted from thanking God, laying in the bed and appreciating life no matter what it has brought.   No matter what it brings.   Because I know what I got. I usually do this even more every day, as I step outside our home. Knowing any unrest I may feel, is more than likely from a spiritual, or an emotional essence.     So, I can change that feeling of unrest almost on a dime.   I can do that, I know. I had a particular client who was a brain surgeon, who couldn’t understand how I could change my mind so quickly in emotion

You can only save the world if...     You survive it's wickedness, that it may at times throw at you repeatedly.  I don't mean to sound like a downer. Quite conversely, I am a glass is half full kind of person.  It's that, as well I'm a realist.     That being said, I'd like to think that the good we do, somehow benefits others. Not necessarily because any of us need to feel that. Yet because, I think it is only human to know we've done the right thing, at least once in our lives on this planet we currently exist in called earth.     The good we do can be embedded in our careers. Or perhaps even our temporary jobs we choose, or rather many times they choose us. To me I can equate many jobs and career 'picks' as something like a rescue center for lost or misplaced pets. Which at times I'd consider, misplaced humanity. People don't always think you know.     Quite a few times, we people do that to ourselves with jobs and careers in our li

King David’s Retirement     There have been many ways that having someone retire from a career have been stated. “You ever think about retirin’?”---Mickey Goldmill in Rocky. In Gran Torino, Walt Kowalski is handed a clock with huge numbers on it.   This is in a request his daughter and son in law hint that he should retire from the home he and his wife raised their family in, since he is already retired from the Ford Motor Company. What’s next? They’re thinking death.   He is living one day at a time.   He’s living in the moment and he doesn’t care about someone else’s comfort. Because it is none of their business.     In 1973, our family of four drove up to my Gramp and Nana’s house for a party. My Dad’s Dad was at the retirement age. Which for that time period was sixty-five. It did, however, depend on who you were and who you worked for.   The average age could be either sixty-two or sixty-five.   An age back then few made it to. The statistics showed life expectancy on an ave

Where’s the Brass Ring?     When you are used to touching death, you need to touch life. If you had asked me when I was eighteen would I have become a person that works with people in pain, some dying.   I would have said emphatically, ‘No Way! ’ Not because I didn’t want to help people. Oh. I did. It was that my thought process of thinking of a way to helping people was saving them from abuse.   Saving them from war.   Saving them from crime.   Or fixing them after crime or war.   Basically, being there for them. Not in any medical format.   Yet, with a fist, a technique, a bayonet or a format of a firing arm or perhaps even a shovel.         Every night as a young child I went to bed and played a type of movie film in my head. I’d see the bad guys . They would try to wreck me; I’d fight back.   They were always bigger, stronger and had the capacity to kill me.   Yet, I’d envisioned I would fight to my last drop of blood, my last breath.   I’d somehow survive while helping o

Let’s Go to the Video Tape.”     Over the years, I’ve pictured God with some kind of video camera on everyone. So that, when we die we are perhaps in limbo. Unless we’ve made it to sainthood. Otherwise, we are sat down in a sort of movie theatre atmosphere. However, it’s just you and your Maker. He takes a look at you, he knows who you are. Then remarks, “Let’s go to the video tape”. And you thought Warner Wolf, the sportscaster invented that saying.     After that is said. Well, there’s no turning back now. Remember the time you were in the privacy of your bathroom of your own home and you took the Lord’s name in vain?   Yeah, that time.   Don’t worry, it’s all there. God’s got it covered. God invented HSAM (Highly Superior Autobiographical Memory). The Good, The Bad and the Ugly, He made that up too. Then the showing of the video is like some type of warp speed through your life.   Time has been altered in the context of this state of being in limbo, in an apparent alternate

Doubt...Choose Wisely At times, the world is a mysteriously sad place. We suppose we are not allowed to have doubt, yet it is in our human nature. A nature in which has been shown in many religious and philosophical books previously written for humans, to exist.   Doubt exists, not because it’s wrong, but because it’s human.   Doubt exists because it helps us learn.   It keeps humanity interested.   It improves progress in learning, thinking and exploring. Medical doctors and nurses have implied, and some have said in their speaking and in their charting paperwork on patients that is, it is looked down on to use the words, ‘only’ and ‘just’ .   As well, it seems the phrase, ‘I don’t know. ’   That is troubling.   And it should be troubling to anyone, the last item that is.   That phrase.   Which is actually a splendid phrase.   Saying, ‘ I don’t know’ , it is a thought of bewilderment.   It is a delivery full of mystery. And why not? Why in medicine can we not be certain? There i

Somewhere There Is Peace…     Recently, I was speaking to my husband one quiet morning in bed, before we got ready for our day. It’s funny how you are with someone over thirty-eight years (married over thirty-five of them); that they never really knew all the experiences that you had.     The topic was loneliness. I began, “Did I ever tell you about when my Mom was really going downhill, when I was a kid?”   He thought for a second, “No.” I replied, “Well, I was about eleven years old.   And I knew she tried to commit suicide three times before I was born.”     Hubby, “Whoa.”       Me, “Yeah. She told me why.   But I knew other things.   It’s not that she’d forgotten to tell me, it was that she realized I was coming of age.   She didn’t know if she’d be there for me.   So, as a form of protection, she let me know what not to get so upset over. As well, not to ‘sin’ over.”   I continued, “But you see I already understood this, but I didn’t know why.” [Flash back to Nov

We're All Connected... In my junior and senior high school years, I took Electricity I and II.    Mr. Schraer was our teacher.   Mr. Schraer was a football coach.   He had fine blond hair, and was in his late twenties, and stood over six foot tall, and weighing about 240lbs.   Just a big young man. The classes were filled with some nerdy, smart, yet quiet boys.   Unlike the boys in my three years of Wood-working Class.   The boys in Electricity class were super science guys.   They appeared painfully shy.   Being the only girl, that increased my shyness ever moreso.   I loved understanding mechanics, engines, and the workings of electricity.   My Dad did not want me to take the classes.   For he felt becoming an Electrician was a dangerous job, let alone for a girl.   He truly did not appreciate my taking such male dominated classes.   And he never seemed to understand my interest in such a class. My plan however, was to gain knowledge about electricity so that in

Lincoln's Hildene Roadway...Manchester, Vermont WE the People… As I listen to and follow all the political goings-on. Which I began doing so, more fervently since August 2015, like never before.   I am stunned how some of US accept lying from officials.   Officials holding high offices. Especially, officials swearing on the Bible.   Which I do not take lightly, and never have.   Most don’t know this about me, I am a person originally of a Christian based-faith. I can say how it all started, that is my reading the Bible.   The one WE swear to in OUR courthouses and when WE serve in high offices.   The one WE swear to as Marines, and so forth. As WE have said, “God, Country, Family, Corps”. WE didn’t say a particular office or political party. Remember that. Most also don’t know that I’ve the read the Bible for the better part of the last fifty years of my fifty-seven years on this earth. It was not something done in my family, or ancestors of many generations of the past

It’s None of My Business… …what your destiny is.   Again, unless it’s revealed to me. And that I consider only by your will or the will of a Divine nature that I may be presented with it. I’ve watched enough people die. And quite rarely has it come to the point where I wondered why you were taken.   It is not something I wonder. Perhaps, it is not culturally accepted to not wonder why someone I may care about, or know is taken from the earth, apparently permanently. Yet, I feel it is not my business to ask, or to even find out the reason why you’re leaving or that you’re gone. It’s only my business sometimes just to see you through.   Or to suggest less suffering or a better way to get you through. Or perhaps to be there for others you may and eventually will leave behind.   Yet, it is none of my business as to why they feel, and how they feel about your departure from this realm, known as being in human form.   And that is just how I see death. And it’s not of a religi

Those People You Meet Today, as I shopped at my favorite grocery store for the coming week, I saw one of my favorite employees of the store there. She’d just gotten off duty. Pearl.   I adore her. As I’d stopped to say ‘Hi’ to her and ask how she was doing, and her I as well. We began to chat. Pearl wanted to know what I was writing about next. So, I let her in on the details of my next fiction series. Minutes later, after we were in laughter, a large man well over six feet in height arrived. Pearl perked up, “Oh, Jody this is Lou. He’s a musician.” Here was a man wearing a light-colored baseball cap, standing much taller than Pearl and I. He wore workday clothing, glasses, eyes looking sharp, and had a mostly full white beard that was grown in approximately two inches below his chin. As we were introduced. Pearl told me a little bit about Lou. He had a son in Marines, and he himself had been in the Army. Then Pearl told Lou about me. So, I asked, “What type of music do you pla