37
2002
"... Today's need for immediate gratification has been chomping away at the solid foundation of middle class values, which has widened the classic chasm that has separated the ‘haves and have nots’ for many years. Makes me question whether denial makes us think ourselves immune to that which history proves true, time and again: Greed is the enemy of brotherhood.
Just as we can't ignore the fact that climate has grown harsh, the world over, our nation's Midas touch must open its eyes to dark storm clouds, overhead, in time to shift gears, or we're bound to spiral into a catastrophic downhill spin, really soon.
*Once upon a time, we lived near Tom Sneva, who'd said, ‘The wall always wins'. As a champion race car driver, Tom, winner of The Indy 500, was referencing cars, spiraling out of control, smashing into walls, exploding into flames. Bale. Bale. Bale. Today, bale/bale/bale references Wall Street CEOs flying out of control in private planes—while The 99% rail about the economy to no avail. While Trump declares: 'You're fired!', we're relieved to see no bread lines—as of yet. No statements from our governing body that sound like: Let them cake—which, BTW was attributed to Marie, who'd never uttered those words. Those words were penned in an underground rag published by The Sun King's brother, who'd schemed to poison the minds of the populous in hopes of usurping the crown for himself—not realizing that while enflaming hatred, his head, along with that of Louie and Marie, was fated to roll.)
Each person's wall of denial, referenced in post after post, may be likened to that which we record as 'history'. And what are we to make of history when walls of denial blind us to our ignorance of details in need of clarification?
Denial confuses basic needs of survival with the feeding frenzy that takes place when the wild thing, which exists within every level of the animal kingdom, travels at supersonic speeds—thus blurring our values in the bargain. I'm referencing much more than material wealth. I'm referencing brotherhood, which hollows out during times of war. Or when we believe strong fences make good neighbors.
I'm referencing brotherhood, compassion and logic burning at the stake when religious wars or war of any kind ignites fear, which distorts that which takes place in our minds. Think of the Crusades, The Spanish Inquisition, The Holocaust. Then, stop to consider the survival cry of Never Again!
Consider the moral (?) majority, who'd heartlessly ransacked homes and businesses, abandoned (?) when millions of neighbors were shoved into box cars. Consider the silent majority, whose fear turned a deaf ear and blind eye to smoke filled skies, snarling dogs, miserable lines of shaven, skeletal slaves pushed forward by rifles toward barracks, adjacent to odors of burning flesh and freshly dug trenches, serving as mass graves, where families, stripped of every human dignity, were inhumanly tossed … all in the name of power. Think of every nation—who unlike the Danes, who somehow rallied around, saving their brothers and sisters—walked the hall of shame once D Day unlocked the atrocious horrors of genocide at Auschwitz, Buchenwald, Treblinka, Babi Yar, Majdanek (This concentration camp was situated in a major urban area.), forcing the conscience of the world to witness brutal carnage, first hand.
The silent are silent for many reasons. When we open our mouths, we need to know of what we speak. Now that we've grown consciously aware of being global, it's apparent to me that each U. S. President, who rises to power, learns the same harsh truth, which every predecessor experienced before: In order to maintain a democratic way of life on our shores, brotherhood, at home and afar, can not be denied. As to the silent—thank God there are those whose silence cloaks underground operations—whether to free African American slaves on our soil, or to march Jewish children across mountain ranges in the dead of night, thus escaping gas chambers, into which many of my family were herded…
We need not go back seventy years. What of retrieving stolen children, terrified and brainwashed into turning guns on their parents, siblings and friends in villages, which they had called home.
How often are each of us ignorant of the alien being creating inner conflict, when subconscious fear sneaks out, pointing fingers of judgment that prove prejudicious in nature?
2014
Please don't take offense if your nation is mentioned in this post. Throughout the history of man/kind, passive acceptance has watched as millions perish in war after war. How many Ukrainians have disappeared into forced labor camps, as of late? Brutality does not just happen 'over there' ... I have a new friend. We enjoyed dinner at my neighbor's restaurant. My neighbor is Chinese. While enjoying hot and sour soup, my new friend's stories held me rapt. My friend is Native American. If the whites were not taking their land, driving them into the desert, one tribe was enslaving another. No matter who writes history, man/kind lusts for power over brotherhood as long as self awareness is nil.
As history repeats itself, a letter, ignorant of details was recently written. This letter aired a prejudicial point of view, which must arouse the voice of the silent majority. The only way for brotherhood to combat ignorance is by confronting ignorance with details, which were unacknowledged in that letter.
This week, the opinion of Javier Bardem and Penelope Cruz, along with others, whose names are unfamiliar to me, line up with Mel Gibson's drunken rant. Gibson was raised by a father, who authored a book, declaring The Holocaust a figment of Jewish Propaganda. Gibson's drunken state loosened his tongue, allowing us to see prejudice lurking darkly in his heart.
If neighboring terrorists were targeting Spain, Ireland, France, England or the U.S. with thousands of missiles, not just recently, but for over sixty years, would our government's response corollate with committing genocide? Anyone recall our response to Pearl Harbor? Are we not all accountable for stopping warmongering neighbors from pushing children and elders into the sea? Do you know who would turn over in his grave to see the state of our world, today? Jesus. Whose last supper was Passover. Which commemorates passing from slavery to living free of bondage and terror. To suggest that Israel's defense of freedom and family compares to genocide is a travesty.
If you review both of my grandfathers' stories and recall their reasons for fleeing Europe, you'll get a bird's eye view of the stories my parents passed down to me, concerning our family's disillusionment in Europe. Take my father's father for example: A Pole, arriving in the U.S., utterly broke. Disillusionment leading them to pioneer in The Holyland. Further disillusionment and illness. Returning to America, utterly broke. Living in the back room behind their deli, where my father, the newly educated farmer, sliced salami while longing to live off the land. Later, tending bar to keep a roof over his beloved family's head. My head. Watching his tavern, which had been underinsured, burn while silently observing firefighters pocketing what was left of his merchandise, which had not smashed. Disillusionment, yet again. Ultimately, retiring to the desert, where his blue eyes danced and his smile beamed bright while climbing 'my' mountain with my three sons in tow. Is my father's story not the story of every man's ups and downs ... Every man's next leap of faith from disillusionment to hope springs eternal that change for the better beckons directly ahead, not for those who wait but rather for those who work tirelessly ... No wonder why we yearn to read stories with happy endings. And while listening to and considering other people's stories, must we not quest toward insight into employing positive focus in hopes of turning our own downhill spirals, around … and thus do bigger pictures, of which I feel compelled to write, speak to me, day after day … and as what speaks to me is shared with you ... this is my work …
Ever since a ragtag, remnant of human disillusionment was shipped back to The Holy (?) Land after WWII, there have been only two sure fire ways way to ensure that Never Again! is not forgot: Combat anti semitism by actively protecting families threatened with extinction on a daily basis while simultaneously confronting ignorance with historical facts, which are not acknowledged often enough by the press.
As a result of having voiced a viewpoint in their letter, ignorant of historical facts—comparing the Israeli government, which must protect it's people, to committing genocide—I hope these oscar winning, superstars have internalized the humility necessary to reconsider their position.
When considering the safe keeping of our brethren throughout the world, I often agree with Obama's stance. When the subject is Israel, I always wonder what our president thinks …
Once the pockets of our subconscious turn inside out, we can each grow ever more mindful of bigger pictures … Or not.
Throughout the history of man/kind, passive acceptance has watched millions perish in war after war. Not just 'over there' ... I have a new friend. Her stories held me rapt. My friend is Native American. If the whites were not taking their land, one tribe was enslaving another. Throughout history, colonization is a covert way of describing man/kind's hunger for power over one another ... And though some things have changed for the better, some have not ... Yet. And thus, repetition not redundant when the goal of each post is retention.
2002
I watch people point fingers of blame at the hearts and minds of others with the same haste as a relay runner passes a wooden baton that’s caught fire. As always, passing the buck has to stop, because people, who are getting burned are—the ill, whose medical insurance won’t cover necessary tests/hospital stays/physical therapy—the overworked, who need two incomes to make ends meet—the aged, who'd cared for us in our youth—our wounded warriors, who lost limbs on foreign shores to keep their children and elders safe at home—and most especially—our kids—who depend upon compassion and common sense to role model emotional maturity during life’s most difficult times. Want to talk about budget cuts to education? Separate insurance plans for congress??? (Whew! Don't even get me started!) *In recent years I've been referring to common sense as uncommon sense, because it proves to be so rare ..."
"Annie, you write for hours, every day. Doesn't your mind need a rest?"
"Seriously? Well, yes, I do need more rest during times of confusion. Who doesn't? But once clarity is mine, my spirit fires up, and I sleep solidly at night. Achieving clarity is worth the work.
In keeping with one thing leads to another, here's another factor that inspires my desire to write, every day: Reflection suggests that my mind has grown more active in compensation for everything my body has not been able to do for many years. During the years when I was able to drive farther distances (and tote my materials), I taught at the college and free lanced all over the valley. I spoke at national conferences, played tennis and shocked myself upon winning a 2nd place league trophy, rode my bike, walked with my friends, danced all night and down hill skied, which thrilled me to no end. Though I've always been a voracious reader, recently, I'm spending less time reading and speaking, more time listening and writing."
"What? You think you speak less??"
After sharing a laugh, I reply: More time listening and writing than speaking professionally. Will says I have to teach, forever, because I have far too many words for his ears, alone.
As years passed and my nerve pain grew worse, I'd felt frustrated by all I couldn't do. So, my persona ignored rising levels of pain until, as a natural consequence of ignoring reality, I'd end up in bed for long spells. Something had to change …
2014…
Though some people call and bring their children to me when they're stymied about resolving conflicts, effectively, I choose to spend most of my time writing rather than facilitating communication workshops all over town. It's never been my habit to turn on the TV during the day, and I can feed the teacher in me by sending whatever I learn into cyberspace without straying far from home. When much of the nonsense I hear offends my ear, my mind feels inspired to express trains of thought, which clarify as I write, in one post after another, day after day. So if you ask what compels me to sit down to write my way toward deeper insights into life, every day, here's what I'd say: While embracing a quiet life, thus taking good care of my body, my mind feels stimulated; my spirit feels well nourished and most of me feels peaceful while the sum of my parts, which makes me whole, explores, absorbs and shares information that makes good sense of nonsense. Then upon posting and checking on stats, my sense of productivity remains well fed, as well. If there's a time for everything, my complex life has simplified, remarkably, and I've made peace with that …
2002
"... Today's need for immediate gratification has been chomping away at the solid foundation of middle class values, which has widened the classic chasm that has separated the ‘haves and have nots’ for many years. Makes me question whether denial makes us think ourselves immune to that which history proves true, time and again: Greed is the enemy of brotherhood.
Just as we can't ignore the fact that climate has grown harsh, the world over, our nation's Midas touch must open its eyes to dark storm clouds, overhead, in time to shift gears, or we're bound to spiral into a catastrophic downhill spin, really soon.
*Once upon a time, we lived near Tom Sneva, who'd said, ‘The wall always wins'. As a champion race car driver, Tom, winner of The Indy 500, was referencing cars, spiraling out of control, smashing into walls, exploding into flames. Bale. Bale. Bale. Today, bale/bale/bale references Wall Street CEOs flying out of control in private planes—while The 99% rail about the economy to no avail. While Trump declares: 'You're fired!', we're relieved to see no bread lines—as of yet. No statements from our governing body that sound like: Let them cake—which, BTW was attributed to Marie, who'd never uttered those words. Those words were penned in an underground rag published by The Sun King's brother, who'd schemed to poison the minds of the populous in hopes of usurping the crown for himself—not realizing that while enflaming hatred, his head, along with that of Louie and Marie, was fated to roll.)
Each person's wall of denial, referenced in post after post, may be likened to that which we record as 'history'. And what are we to make of history when walls of denial blind us to our ignorance of details in need of clarification?
Denial confuses basic needs of survival with the feeding frenzy that takes place when the wild thing, which exists within every level of the animal kingdom, travels at supersonic speeds—thus blurring our values in the bargain. I'm referencing much more than material wealth. I'm referencing brotherhood, which hollows out during times of war. Or when we believe strong fences make good neighbors.
I'm referencing brotherhood, compassion and logic burning at the stake when religious wars or war of any kind ignites fear, which distorts that which takes place in our minds. Think of the Crusades, The Spanish Inquisition, The Holocaust. Then, stop to consider the survival cry of Never Again!
Consider the moral (?) majority, who'd heartlessly ransacked homes and businesses, abandoned (?) when millions of neighbors were shoved into box cars. Consider the silent majority, whose fear turned a deaf ear and blind eye to smoke filled skies, snarling dogs, miserable lines of shaven, skeletal slaves pushed forward by rifles toward barracks, adjacent to odors of burning flesh and freshly dug trenches, serving as mass graves, where families, stripped of every human dignity, were inhumanly tossed … all in the name of power. Think of every nation—who unlike the Danes, who somehow rallied around, saving their brothers and sisters—walked the hall of shame once D Day unlocked the atrocious horrors of genocide at Auschwitz, Buchenwald, Treblinka, Babi Yar, Majdanek (This concentration camp was situated in a major urban area.), forcing the conscience of the world to witness brutal carnage, first hand.
The silent are silent for many reasons. When we open our mouths, we need to know of what we speak. Now that we've grown consciously aware of being global, it's apparent to me that each U. S. President, who rises to power, learns the same harsh truth, which every predecessor experienced before: In order to maintain a democratic way of life on our shores, brotherhood, at home and afar, can not be denied. As to the silent—thank God there are those whose silence cloaks underground operations—whether to free African American slaves on our soil, or to march Jewish children across mountain ranges in the dead of night, thus escaping gas chambers, into which many of my family were herded…
We need not go back seventy years. What of retrieving stolen children, terrified and brainwashed into turning guns on their parents, siblings and friends in villages, which they had called home.
How often are each of us ignorant of the alien being creating inner conflict, when subconscious fear sneaks out, pointing fingers of judgment that prove prejudicious in nature?
2014
Please don't take offense if your nation is mentioned in this post. Throughout the history of man/kind, passive acceptance has watched as millions perish in war after war. How many Ukrainians have disappeared into forced labor camps, as of late? Brutality does not just happen 'over there' ... I have a new friend. We enjoyed dinner at my neighbor's restaurant. My neighbor is Chinese. While enjoying hot and sour soup, my new friend's stories held me rapt. My friend is Native American. If the whites were not taking their land, driving them into the desert, one tribe was enslaving another. No matter who writes history, man/kind lusts for power over brotherhood as long as self awareness is nil.
As history repeats itself, a letter, ignorant of details was recently written. This letter aired a prejudicial point of view, which must arouse the voice of the silent majority. The only way for brotherhood to combat ignorance is by confronting ignorance with details, which were unacknowledged in that letter.
This week, the opinion of Javier Bardem and Penelope Cruz, along with others, whose names are unfamiliar to me, line up with Mel Gibson's drunken rant. Gibson was raised by a father, who authored a book, declaring The Holocaust a figment of Jewish Propaganda. Gibson's drunken state loosened his tongue, allowing us to see prejudice lurking darkly in his heart.
If neighboring terrorists were targeting Spain, Ireland, France, England or the U.S. with thousands of missiles, not just recently, but for over sixty years, would our government's response corollate with committing genocide? Anyone recall our response to Pearl Harbor? Are we not all accountable for stopping warmongering neighbors from pushing children and elders into the sea? Do you know who would turn over in his grave to see the state of our world, today? Jesus. Whose last supper was Passover. Which commemorates passing from slavery to living free of bondage and terror. To suggest that Israel's defense of freedom and family compares to genocide is a travesty.
If you review both of my grandfathers' stories and recall their reasons for fleeing Europe, you'll get a bird's eye view of the stories my parents passed down to me, concerning our family's disillusionment in Europe. Take my father's father for example: A Pole, arriving in the U.S., utterly broke. Disillusionment leading them to pioneer in The Holyland. Further disillusionment and illness. Returning to America, utterly broke. Living in the back room behind their deli, where my father, the newly educated farmer, sliced salami while longing to live off the land. Later, tending bar to keep a roof over his beloved family's head. My head. Watching his tavern, which had been underinsured, burn while silently observing firefighters pocketing what was left of his merchandise, which had not smashed. Disillusionment, yet again. Ultimately, retiring to the desert, where his blue eyes danced and his smile beamed bright while climbing 'my' mountain with my three sons in tow. Is my father's story not the story of every man's ups and downs ... Every man's next leap of faith from disillusionment to hope springs eternal that change for the better beckons directly ahead, not for those who wait but rather for those who work tirelessly ... No wonder why we yearn to read stories with happy endings. And while listening to and considering other people's stories, must we not quest toward insight into employing positive focus in hopes of turning our own downhill spirals, around … and thus do bigger pictures, of which I feel compelled to write, speak to me, day after day … and as what speaks to me is shared with you ... this is my work …
Ever since a ragtag, remnant of human disillusionment was shipped back to The Holy (?) Land after WWII, there have been only two sure fire ways way to ensure that Never Again! is not forgot: Combat anti semitism by actively protecting families threatened with extinction on a daily basis while simultaneously confronting ignorance with historical facts, which are not acknowledged often enough by the press.
As a result of having voiced a viewpoint in their letter, ignorant of historical facts—comparing the Israeli government, which must protect it's people, to committing genocide—I hope these oscar winning, superstars have internalized the humility necessary to reconsider their position.
When considering the safe keeping of our brethren throughout the world, I often agree with Obama's stance. When the subject is Israel, I always wonder what our president thinks …
Once the pockets of our subconscious turn inside out, we can each grow ever more mindful of bigger pictures … Or not.
Throughout the history of man/kind, passive acceptance has watched millions perish in war after war. Not just 'over there' ... I have a new friend. Her stories held me rapt. My friend is Native American. If the whites were not taking their land, one tribe was enslaving another. Throughout history, colonization is a covert way of describing man/kind's hunger for power over one another ... And though some things have changed for the better, some have not ... Yet. And thus, repetition not redundant when the goal of each post is retention.
2002
I watch people point fingers of blame at the hearts and minds of others with the same haste as a relay runner passes a wooden baton that’s caught fire. As always, passing the buck has to stop, because people, who are getting burned are—the ill, whose medical insurance won’t cover necessary tests/hospital stays/physical therapy—the overworked, who need two incomes to make ends meet—the aged, who'd cared for us in our youth—our wounded warriors, who lost limbs on foreign shores to keep their children and elders safe at home—and most especially—our kids—who depend upon compassion and common sense to role model emotional maturity during life’s most difficult times. Want to talk about budget cuts to education? Separate insurance plans for congress??? (Whew! Don't even get me started!) *In recent years I've been referring to common sense as uncommon sense, because it proves to be so rare ..."
"Annie, you write for hours, every day. Doesn't your mind need a rest?"
"Seriously? Well, yes, I do need more rest during times of confusion. Who doesn't? But once clarity is mine, my spirit fires up, and I sleep solidly at night. Achieving clarity is worth the work.
In keeping with one thing leads to another, here's another factor that inspires my desire to write, every day: Reflection suggests that my mind has grown more active in compensation for everything my body has not been able to do for many years. During the years when I was able to drive farther distances (and tote my materials), I taught at the college and free lanced all over the valley. I spoke at national conferences, played tennis and shocked myself upon winning a 2nd place league trophy, rode my bike, walked with my friends, danced all night and down hill skied, which thrilled me to no end. Though I've always been a voracious reader, recently, I'm spending less time reading and speaking, more time listening and writing."
"What? You think you speak less??"
After sharing a laugh, I reply: More time listening and writing than speaking professionally. Will says I have to teach, forever, because I have far too many words for his ears, alone.
As years passed and my nerve pain grew worse, I'd felt frustrated by all I couldn't do. So, my persona ignored rising levels of pain until, as a natural consequence of ignoring reality, I'd end up in bed for long spells. Something had to change …
2014…
Though some people call and bring their children to me when they're stymied about resolving conflicts, effectively, I choose to spend most of my time writing rather than facilitating communication workshops all over town. It's never been my habit to turn on the TV during the day, and I can feed the teacher in me by sending whatever I learn into cyberspace without straying far from home. When much of the nonsense I hear offends my ear, my mind feels inspired to express trains of thought, which clarify as I write, in one post after another, day after day. So if you ask what compels me to sit down to write my way toward deeper insights into life, every day, here's what I'd say: While embracing a quiet life, thus taking good care of my body, my mind feels stimulated; my spirit feels well nourished and most of me feels peaceful while the sum of my parts, which makes me whole, explores, absorbs and shares information that makes good sense of nonsense. Then upon posting and checking on stats, my sense of productivity remains well fed, as well. If there's a time for everything, my complex life has simplified, remarkably, and I've made peace with that …
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