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talking to myself

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About this blog

personal stuff

Entries in this blog

 

We are all teachers

We pass each other every day, Nodding and smiling Then forgetting the face of the one just pasted. Like a river people come into our lives, Some part and flow around us Others come ashore in one way or another. Some to bring joy into our lives, Others sorrow, Still a few to bring great suffering, Teaching us how to deal with anger; Resentment with it unrelenting pain, Grabbing by the neck and shaking without mercy Until the lesson learned and the cycle broken. Each leav

markdohle

markdohle

 

One thought

One thought, It grows slowly at first, Then it spreads, Takes root; Its tendrils encasing the soul Allowing no rest from the inner chatter. Thoughts become obsessive Overly focused, Until the act is done And a life ruined. A story often repeated With no lesson learned By those who hear The sad tale so often played out

markdohle

markdohle

 

The dance

Joy and sorrow are partners in the dance of life A tango or perhaps a two step who knows, One leading and then the other In an interplay of happiness and loss Both needed for the other to exist at all. For joy alone becomes nothing, Flat, Like the ocean without waves, So calm that life lessens, The intensity gone with only boredom remaining. In this world both must be present For the pilgrims journey to continue, Over the mountain And thru the dark valley That each mu

markdohle

markdohle

 

Remembering

Had lunch with Leo this Wednesday, and decided to try a new place for lunch. Probably did it more for me than for him, since I am not sure he remembers our trips, at least in a detailed manner. He always responds positively to the new images that he gets from his surroundings, and also likes the music that is played over the speaker system. That day they were playing R & B tunes which he seems to enjoy very much. As usual I had to show him how to use his straw for the tea, but he caugh

markdohle

markdohle

 

Something eventful

Carl Jung coined the word “synchronicity” to denote an experience that so coincides with a need that it seems to be somehow part an parcel of reality. Most people have these experiences, some so outlandish that those who have them are convinced that there is something greater than they are involved. There is one book out call “when God winks” to discuss this phenomenon. I suppose I have had my share, and I would like to relate one of these experiences that happened to me many years ago,

markdohle

markdohle

 

Dr. George G. Ritchie,

Dr. George G. Ritchie, a psychiatrist who, as a young man at Camp Barkeley in Texas, "died" for nine minutes during a horrible bout of pneumonia and claimed to have been shown the afterlife by none other than Jesus. You discern. We wrote about him a while back and feel compelled to revisit aspects we could not focus upon back then, for the experience was powerful at many unexplored levels. When he saw Jesus, wrote Dr. Ritchie, it was a far more masculine power than he expected, not the meek im

markdohle

markdohle

 

Philips life review

He lies peacefully in his bed Now his permanent home Where he rules all he surveys Often entertaining many who drop by With smiles and laughter Pointing and non-stop talking happy with the attention From the many he knew in years long passed Many come and he welcomes them Though no one else can see. Nonetheless the attention that he favors them with, Is real, Patiently listening to what they have to say Reliving past episodes, That brings forth tears of joy and sorro

markdohle

markdohle

 

A walk by the sea

The bright sun on the white sand and rocks Reflected a strong glare causing the eyes to water, The blue sky empty of clouds opened up to infinity, The cool breeze with the sweet smell of the salty water Allowing calm to descend were just a moment ago was missing. The sound of the waves pounding the beach, So soothing its crashing upon the sand Its rhythm allowing the mind to rest in peace deeper than sleep, A refreshing break from simply existing apart, Drawing into the oneness

markdohle

markdohle

 

The price paid

Loss is a silent companion, Its cold embrace, Empty of all that was before Fits like a black vest, Tightly zipped, Forced up to the throat Blocking breath, Clinging in its need to feed. With no where to go or hide Since it is in the heart, The center of life That the void is felt. Unrelenting in its lovemaking, That leads only further down the road of loneliness, Where all fears are felt to be true, In a place that is shorn of all color or vibrancy. To dare love

markdohle

markdohle

 

Perfection

The frog sat without movement Blinking in the mist laden air, Surrounded by fog and padded silence; Its color a bright green With eyes large and dark Lending a serene beauty As it patiently waited for whatever it needed Food or a mate I did not know As it sat unmindful of its perfection, Or the effect it had on me.

markdohle

markdohle

 

The end of a conversation

Failure stared him in the face Mocking all that he has ever tried to do, Seeking to lead him down the path of regret, That eventually can mature into despair Leading into the world that is colored ever so softly In shades of grey. Easy on the eye but lifeless and silent, The wrong kind that leads into nihilism, A world in which nothing matters Nothing last or is important. The man was used to the world of soft shadows Knowing well the dust filled land A drought that choke

markdohle

markdohle

 

Joy is there

Joy is there The light ever present enveloping Upholding the one loved. Often hidden but at work none the less even if in secret. Slowly bringing to light the fruit long in coming Overcoming the darkness of fear Depression Failure That often haunts those who seek the good The conflict often wounding Forcing the broken to choose to move forward To trust That Joy will win out in the end No matter how bleak it seems. Life is not dark Though at times it seems so Suff

markdohle

markdohle

 

Each day

Each day so much like one before it Just little differences That make some stand out, Remembered, Even pondered, While the rest sink into forgetfulness, Oblivion, Never again to see the light. Memories hide, Forgotten, Buried in the cave beneath thought, With roots deep, Alive, Influencing in secret That makes us a mystery to ourselves In how we sometimes are. Am I my past or am I my thoughts at this moment? What will I be in the future? Perhaps I am none o

markdohle

markdohle

 

With its depth

The pain of the world, Its sorrow, Weighs heavily in all our hearts, Some more in touch than others With its depth. Many hide from its sting Becoming tough, Cynical, Angry, Aloof, Anything to keep empathy, Compassion, At bay, That if allowed to grow Will make the heart bleed, Weep, Moan for all their brothers and sisters, Suffering with no one to help, Or to be with. Does God weep? Being present to all, No way to deflect The agony Of all the children

markdohle

markdohle

 

Trust the process

There is a proverb that always seems to speak to me…..”Trust the process”…..a simple statement no doubt, but when meditated upon when going thru some change in life, can be very helpful, and even comforting. Change can bring to the surface many conflicting emotions, and feelings; excitement, fear, and anxiety, with each flowing thru the conscious awareness one after another, sometimes perhaps being experienced all at once. Causing a swift experience of “ups” and “downs”, that can be unnervi

markdohle

markdohle

 

The two step

Learning a new job is like learning a new dance step. I remember when my sister-in-law tried to show me how to do the 2-step. Looks easy, and it is, but learning to do it without counting takes some time; meanwhile the actual counting also makes it hard to do, since it interferes with the actual rhythm that is needed to do anything right, be it dancing or not; to do it properly Right now I am so busy trying to get all the “details” right that it takes me twice the time that it took Theresa to

markdohle

markdohle

 

Like an infant

He is like an infant now In his geriatric chair Table up so he cannot fall, If he tries to stand up on his own. He does not know he cannot walk He stills smiles when his name is called Laughs at jokes Loves music Is present to those around How much no one knows He leans to his right Almost over the arm rest Nothing can be done to make him straight When ask if he has pain He responds he is comfortable Eats only soft foods Stating to have trouble taking meds He s

markdohle

markdohle

 

Talk on anger

I have been asked to give a talk on Anger, Resentment, and Forgiveness; a subject I feel I know a lot about, since anger is an issue that I have been dealing with all my life. I am not an intellectual, so my talks tend to be more autobiographical than anything else, and sometimes it gives me pause when I think about it. One of the reasons I like blogging is that I have an avenue that I can simply state what I feel I need to state, and then send it to be read by people who really don’t know

markdohle

markdohle

 

Tightly wrought

Deep down in the depths In places perceived as dark, Hidden from view, Maybe forgotten Or perhaps feared, Is a knot, Gideon like, Tightly wrought, Unbreakable, Protective, Of the one who is its creator, Even if brought forth unknown In ignorance. Purposeful none the less Even if its time is outlived, It cannot be undone. The burden heavy, If not felt, Its influence seen The effects witnessed By those who know the one suffering, Who perhaps see their ref

markdohle

markdohle

 

Yearning

There is a yearning in the human heart Often going without a name, Experienced as a wound by some, By others a simple longing. An inner thirst, Unquenchable, Showing no mercy to the Soul, Allowing no permanent rest Since it cannot be owned But only sought. This yearning points beyond what we have, It almost seems that we are also pursued. That being also yearned for Is what draws us forward. Seeking union with that which has no name, Nor form, Yet present in the

markdohle

markdohle

 

Leo

He is not the person he was once, Cannot say what he wants, Yet still knows he has something to say. He stutters The frustration showing in his eyes Aching to say something, Anything that forms a complete thought, But he cannot. He is present, Aware, Just in a different way, That makes him seem absent To those who perceive from outside. He knows, He feels, In ways different than before, Yet the fire, Humor, And love still shine forth. He reaches to tap me o

markdohle

markdohle

 

Out to lunch

About a year and a half ago, when Leo, and Damian, first went into Morningside, I would take them out to lunch once a week. They both enjoyed it; the time spent with them was very pleasant and happy. They liked to go and get hamburgers, or perhaps a hotdog, and afterwards go over to Dairy Queen for some ice cream. They loved the ice cream Sundays with lots of syrup on it. This went one for a few weeks, but I had to stop since the director of Morningside told me that Damian would come back a

markdohle

markdohle

 

Quenching

Quenching The sun beats down Upon the one who thirsts, Throat parched, Tongue swollen, Screaming for cool water, The mind obsessed, Growing deeper Each moment tormented. The stream was heard from afar The beauty of the sound Greater More thrilling Than any sound ever heard, The body frantic Its desire All consuming With a joyful noise, The crystal clear treasure Flowed past rapidly, Its smell intoxicating, Almost leading to madness, Until the hands cupped The precious liqu

markdohle

markdohle

 

Chains of oppression and mercy/justice

Chains of oppression and mercy/justice The belief that God is merciful is often hard for many to accept or to understand. Mercy is often thought of as something for another, a wrong doer, someone who has caused personal harm. To let the one receiving mercy off the hook. Which is a dangerous illusion to actually believe, forestalling healing for all involved in any situation in which evil is done to another. Justice is more readily embraced, for then the scales are righted and order restor

markdohle

markdohle

 

Prayer for the dead

Prayer for the dead (community day of remembrance) Lord, today we pray for those who have gone before us, those we know and those we do not, our Christians brothers and sisters, and all those who have died seeking love, truth, and justice in this world.  For those who have loved truly, yet need further mercy, and healing, such is the work of your grace. Each moment is yours, as is each soul, all are known and loved by you, such is your heart, eternal, and infinite in love and comp

markdohle

markdohle