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talking to myself

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About this blog

personal stuff

Entries in this blog

 

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

 

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

 

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 Resentment, anger and forgiveness

Early years (2 years Old) put in foster home Became hyper self aware (still am) No one to depend on Just myself Hyper alert in a dark lonely place This is abandonment Something every child has to face at one time or another Mine came sooner rather than later. Had to be done Rent problems Parents came every weekend I withheld my affection knowing they were leaving again. Became self contained Impersonal towards others Unable to break this As the years stacked up. E

markdohle

markdohle

 

Choosing my battles

Choosing my battles In taking care of the sick, there are two things that I have learned. The first is to choose my battles, to know what can be dealt with for the benefit of my patient, and what needs to be let go off, since to pursue it would only cause more harm than good. I suppose diet is one of the hardest things to deal with. For many of us our eating habits can be a bit compulsive and our choices bad for us. I have a man I am taking care of at this time, who is rapidly gaining wei

markdohle

markdohle

 

I wonder

I often wonder what it will be like for me when I get old. As I take care of my patients I often picture myself in their position in the not so distant future, and wonder if I won’t be saying over and over again “so that was what it was like”. Last night trying to clean Edmund, he got very angry at me, since he had no idea what I was doing. He did not want me to take off his wet clothes, or clean him. I spent about 30 minutes just talking softly to him, explaining what I was doing, which

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