Writing Reality

As I drove at a little after seven this morning I thought... 'if my husband were alive. What would he be doing right now?' There was a mental quietness of wondering for a moment as I drove.  My thoughts then floated to seeing a man walking two dogs, As his not yet school-aged children walked ahead of him. I see this routine of theirs nearly every school morning at this time. This simple set of acts of theirs is amazing to me. The rest of my day is filled with studies, writing, taking classes, a run, and some cleaning. If I'm lucky, I get to settle in and watch part of a news program by seven or so.  Tonight I caught the last fifteen minutes of a news program near eight. Some of the final few minutes focused on a space flight for six civilians. That brings me back to this morning. My husband, if he were alive he would be reading up on this. He would want to do this. He always wanted to be an astronaut. However, one of perhaps the many things that stood in his way in his

  A chapter from my book: "Not Exactly Don Juan...and The Liberated Woman Chapter Nineteen The Smack Heard Round the World       It was cold January night, a Monday after seven o’clock.   Phil’s basement gym was packed.   Rashid whom some of the guys knew from a local high school years before was to spar that night.   In walked Rashid into Phil’s Basement Gym about a month or so back.   Phil made certain that this incredible specimen of an athlete would be given a chance.       Rashid, a heavy-weight for certain, had some boxing experience. Yet, it didn’t appear to me that he had much ground game at the time.   It almost seemed like he hit so hard that he didn’t need a ground game.       He was fast, agile, and reeked of athletic prowess.   I thought to myself, ‘Maybe this guy is going to be Phil’s breakthrough fighter.’   Funny thing is that Phil never ever spoke that way about fighters, with reference to himself.   He was there solely for the fighters and people intere

A Quest for Certainty Blocks the Search for Meaning... Kids seem so certain... And I wasn't. As I'd just went through another young adult episode of disagreement.  I announced,  "Well, I finished that section of parenting! But I'm not done yet. I think I can say that." This was after I'd just finished a phone conversation as to "... what's the issue that my kid couldn't be bothered with learning and making an investment, that now saves her near $1k? As well, perhaps in the future she may very well gain $50k or $100k on this investment thirty years from now." This other professional adult and I surmised. The response from the other mother, also a professional,  "All kids are like that. I was like that too. I couldn't see it. And I didn't want to be bothered " I nearly gasped for a second. Because this quite level-headed business woman I could not picture her being bothered as a kid by making a smart economic move.  As I

----With reference to Putin stated by Viktor Yushchenko (fmr. President of Ukraine) How do free people feel? Who is free? Who recognizes their freedom? Do we use our free-will, purposefully? How much do we care about other's freedom? Others having choices? My absolute knowing is: Anything that inhibits an individual's freedom of speech, is a sin against anything divine.  It is a sin against all humanity. I listened to a free man in our country. An acquaintance of mine for over 25 years last week deemed that Putin is right in putting reporters in jail for 15 years for what he claims as false reporting.  He truly believes that Russia has not killed civilians.  That the videos, the reporting we are receiving are all totally false. In fact, he is so sure that the virus was a non-issue as well. Yet, he has no military experience,  not ever had to fight for his life. Not in the least connected to the medical field. Nor has he had to deal with any civil rights of his being violated.

This afternoon I had a few minutes.  So, I figured I'd call my brother in law. He lives out in the Midwest. He's been out here for decades. I was telling him about my interactions with people, some I knew in high school and hadn't seen in 41-45 years. He remarked, "I wonder if your shot put coach from high school knows who Bruce Hedendal and Neal Socha were?" I remark, "I know that name Socha." He replies,  "Well I think it was 1965 they were one and two nationally in the shot put. They were both at Paramus High School." I responded, "Oh he is well studied. I bet he will know those names. Because if I recognize one of them..." As the conversation went on, my brother in law realized he really never knew where I was born,  nor where I went to high school.  And even funnier, since he's known me for over 40 years. He thought for some reason I was from North Carolina.  I explained I was in North Carolina at one of the bases while I

Yesterday as I finally had a chance to give a friend and UltraRunning coach Dante a call.  We hadn't spoken since October. Both of us were just too busy.  As we were discussing tweaking our training from what we did ten and more years ago, as he is about to be 66 and I, 60 this year.  We knew each other's overall health goals, and were addressing each other's running goals. We were on the phone for about thirty minutes as I was scrubbing my stove areas, looking out my kitchen window.  The subject at that very moment was, 'who we hadn't seen in over two years...' As well, my severe exhaustion that crept up on me over the past six years; then slammed me down in September.  My 745 days of determination to run every day I would do alone. Perhaps appearing undaunted. I can say it was the converse.  Every day in the past six months especially, it was as if I took my hand grabbing the back of my clothing and pulled myself forward for another step.  Praying every step t

  A Small View To the readers here, you’ll need to pull up an oatmeal bar and pour that cup of coffee for this read. As this writing leads me to a matter of today’s circumstances. I wonder though, is it truly something new that we are happening upon in the world today? A number of years ago in my office. I had a client who was near age eighty. He was highly-educated and had gone to a private high school in New York City, way back when. He spoke about it much. During his treatments, he would tell me about how he was raised, the school system he went to, and who went there. His parents believed in thinking what others would call, ‘outside the box’. Especially for those times that he was in a parochial private high school. Which in his time, would have been in the mid to late 1940’s. This client was what we would call a ‘now’ type of individual, in his thinking.   Apparently, his children seemed nearly twenty years ahead or more in their thinking of the functions of being human. Tha

  When did I start getting disgusted? This morning after reading about Kinzinger's regret about voting not to impeach the former 45th POTUS on the Ukraine issue in 2019. I began to look back, far back to my childhood. As when did I begin to feel disgusted about human's behaviors. Was it the first time my mom said, "Don't stare." ? Because I wondered how someone else with disabilities got through their day? Could I help them? I know I wanted to. Even back then, I couldn't handle watching others suffer and be discarded from the rest of society. At age seven. I was on an anti-litter campaign.  I remember it well. I made a big poster to put inside a window of our town's 7-11's store window. I absolutely despised litter. Still do. Next was, why would someone bully someone else? Made no sense to me. And by age eight, I'd take them down too.  And I did on some occasions.  Yes, physically.  All I could muster. Neither lost, nor did I ever get in trouble

 I Called For Backup     It was June 30th, 2012, a Thursday morning. My husband off from work was edging by our sidewalk. I was getting ready to run to start a five hour training day on my regular work day off.  Our daughters were off from  school for the summer and sleeping in.     A neighbor was out walking, as my husband said, 'hi', to her. He also asked about her husband. He had not known what had transpired in their lives that year. She stopped and said that her husband was dying. He wasn't going to make it much longer. It was a matter of months, to the point they moved her daughter's wedding from October to August.     I overhearing this as I was stepping outside to go for my run. I responded  acknowledging  her dilemma. I responded, "I will pray for him."     I was devastated as I ran I prayed. Then after a mile. I stopped my watch, standing on the sidewalk of a bridge, I pulled out my cell phone from my back pocket of my running shirt. I called for

Someone listened to me today... I don't mean that as a feeling of sadness. Quite to the contrary. It was that they liked my silly humor and my stories. We barely know each other, mostly by sight over the past ten years. Only about two months ago did we know each other's names. We would sporadically see each other at her place of employment.  And I wondered if our chats helped her day along. She told me that they have, as she expressed such today.She is five years my senior. As we chatted,  we both reckoned with the fact that when we were growing up in the 1960s and 1970s,  boys were the more cherished. We nodded in agreement to that fact today.  However,  we aren't visibly now in that position. As she mostly manages in the store that employs her. As well, of my 36 year marriage ending with my husband's passing in 2020, that which in 15 of those years I earned more than he.  Not something ever heard of in my ancestry. Both her and I are mothers. As well, she a wife.

You want freedom... but you don't want to serve. You know, the things we do. You have those abilities to travel, to go shopping, shop for food. Your children are able to attend school.  You can go to work.  You can attend meetings, get-togethers, perhaps religious services. You want your time to read, study, write, or any other quiet time thing you do in the peace of your home. Your hospitals and schools are intact. Yet, you. Yes you the posers complaining as you always have.  Everything takes work,  but you have yet to accept that truth about life. You have to serve someone,  something. We all do, and that's life. That is our rent we pay for living on this earth. However,  you are unwilling to accept that life is just about that. Serving. Paying a debt for freedoms. You forget. Humans are not that much more superior than our favored domestic animals. We still battle to survive, most of the time we just don't acknowledge it.  Many of us in these United States have bec

About 11,000 Russian soldiers now dead, per Reuters. That's in about ten days. In our twenty year war in Afghanistan, we lost about 2,500. Let that sink in. As well, Ukraine losses are about 2,500 or so currently, in this war. Quite often people need to be inconvenienced for change to occur. When are the Russian people going to despise losing their sons, brothers and fathers? When will the Russian people recognize and move on their unwanted dictatorship? It may have been convenient in a sense to many of them to allow a fascist bully to rule such as Putin. But now, hopefully the Russian people will see the grave inconvenience bestowed upon them by madness.---Jody-Lynn Reicher 

The World rotates on its axis... As cities burn. I hold the strangeness of the world in my hand. My soul challenged by what should be, who I am, who I could be... Maybe should be. I have my attention wanting to be scurried away with small worries. Each more living bears more weight on my existence. The complexity of simple yearnings. Being simple is far from reach, currently.  It is because of what I know of what makes a simple life, is merely a dream. Yet, I still seek the possibility of a simple life. It is that I know I cannot fix the world. I cannot change important minds. Because for some crazy reason there will always be hatred for what is good. Good has many avenues. My younger teenaged daughter heard me say last night,  "...some Russian needs to put a bullet in Putin's head."  Yes, I said it.  She replied, "Mom?! That's really bad." She, scolding my true nature.I do come from two warring parties from long ago. I responded,  "Sorry, but at t

  I don't have a bomb dropping on my head...  I started that thought early in my childhood.  When I couldn't get a new bathing suit. When my Mom didn't have a car. When there was no real meat. As my parents were splitting. When for thirteen school years it was peanut butter and jelly for lunch and a nickel for milk if I was at school for lunch. Rarely fresh fruit was had in our home. If you were hungry, it was bread w/margarine, and milk or water.  Cake was for birthdays only. Ginger ale if you were ill. Root/Birch Beer three times a year. Mom made a batch for a soda on a hot summer day. One I had at the Volunteer Fireman's Labor Day picnic and maybe you got another one if there was extra that day. We got to swim two maybe three times in the summer. When Mom got a working car and she had enough change for gas and entry to the swimming areas. There was No air conditioning,  no washing machine, no dryer... We had a bathtub and a metal and wood scrub board and a good clo