God is such a funny term,
So generic and easy to use,
It slips off the tongue smoothly
Either in praise or in a curse,
Easy to make trivial,
To seek to box in
By certain theologies or beliefs,
Thinking that the mind of God can be known,
By simple quotes,
Thereby damming those who are different;
Who see the eternal with different understandings.
God's image is what we are made in,
The eternal not in ours,
Though in reality that is what is most w
Treading is what people often do,
Just trying to keep the head above water,
Struggling to stay afloat
With no surcease in sight.
Often alone with no one to say a kind word
Or offer a helping hand.
They are all around us,
Passing our way on the street,
Yet often they are not seen
Since it is hidden away.
Their hearts heavy laden
With life’s burdens;
They are often experienced as a pest
To be avoided,
Since to truly see what is undernea
I think my harshest critic is myself, perhaps which is why I am not overly concerned about what others think of me. They could never be as hard on me as I am. I often get stuck in the same old rut over and over again. Perhaps that is why I am always writing about the wheel, and trying to simply either get off or to stop the cycle. In some areas I have done that, while in others I am still strapped to the outer rim going around and around helpless to get off. One reason is that I don’t want t
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,
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.
It grows slowly at first,
Then it spreads,
Its tendrils encasing the soul
Allowing no rest from the inner chatter.
Thoughts become obsessive
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
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,
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
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,
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
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,
Patiently listening to what they have to say
Reliving past episodes,
That brings forth tears of joy and sorro
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
Loss is a silent companion,
Its cold embrace,
Empty of all that was before
Fits like a black vest,
Forced up to the throat
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
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.
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
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
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
That often haunts those who seek the good
The conflict often wounding
Forcing the broken to choose to move forward
That Joy will win out in the end
No matter how bleak it seems.
Life is not dark
Though at times it seems so
Each day so much like one before it
Just little differences
That make some stand out,
While the rest sink into forgetfulness,
Never again to see the light.
Buried in the cave beneath thought,
With roots deep,
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
The pain of the world,
Weighs heavily in all our hearts,
Some more in touch than others
With its depth.
Many hide from its sting
Anything to keep empathy,
That if allowed to grow
Will make the heart bleed,
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
Of all the children
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
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
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
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
Early years (2 years Old) put in foster home
Became hyper self aware (still am)
No one to depend on
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
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.
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
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
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
Deep down in the depths
In places perceived as dark,
Hidden from view,
Or perhaps feared,
Is a knot,
Of the one who is its creator,
Even if brought forth unknown
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