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Jubilation On The Mount. . .
Jubilation On The Mount. . . She said. . . ‘you go out too far.’ I said. . . ‘but that is where the work needs to be done.’ Jubilation. There will be time for jubilation; a time for frolic. We will drink the variegated drinks. And we will dance. There is a…
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No Rush To Judgement. . .
No Rush To Judgement. . .I am 85 so there is no rush to judgement. These are conclusions with thoughtful consideration in this third of a series. Is this how the rest of the world works? That they have no inner motivations and can find nothing to spur them on? Some said they couldn’t…
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The Dark Side Man Calls His Humanity. . .
(When I sat in my first Philosophy class and the Instructor was explaining the different ways of looking at life, he went into detail about how some teachers thought every day life was illusion, not real. There was snickering of course because how could such details as study and tests be not…
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The Confusion of Crossed Signals. . .
The Confusion Of Crossed Signals. . . A young psychologist family friend and I were talking about the many problems concerning the young returning veterans in his practice. And the many suicides among them. Remember when I said there were many grave problems and one of the reasons why was they had mothers and…
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Agile Thinking Makes Connections. . .
Agile Thinking Makes Connections No procedure is complicated if allowed to draw itself from the boundaries which were once considered appropriate to it. And any change necessary will be accommodated when proper procedures are instituted. I wonder the comment a friend made when I said I learned a philosophical principle during my woodworking that…
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Around The Bend. . .
When our David was twelve or thirteen, he lay on his bed in the room he shared with his brother and walked the walls in his stockinged feet. When I get to be a star in the sky, he said, I will shine down and give power to help people as they need…
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We Are Stewards. . . Accountable. .
It has been about five years since I started my blog at the insistence of a perceptive grandson who thought his grandmother should be heard. So he set me up on my blog and I have been writing three and four times a week. Poetry, essays and vignettes, excerpts and paradigms and observations. Prayers…
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With Peace As Natural As Breath To Us. . . .
From my heart to yours, I send my Christmas message. In this holiest of seasons, where the desire for peace nudges all hearts no matter their persuasion, let us give way to these highest and best of all emotions and act upon them. By acting upon them until they are second nature to us, in…
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Do You Hear?. . . .
Do You Hear? Do I have more minutes to finish? There was no time for answers because the little one with a dash was out of sight. In a few minutes he was back and announced, I finish. Having learned to wait while private things were finished, I waited again while he proceeded…
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Beneath The Wings . . .
Being the child that I was, rooted in memory solidly, I could not help being a trial to my mother. Having seven other children of normal vintage , she could compare easily and wonder loudly why I had to be different. It was not by intent but by inclination of the tree.…