Archive | Observations

Some Observations. . . .




Some Observations. . .

How much of what crawls over memory’s house is what a person feels above doing and what is owed him or her because of who they are?  And do they really know who they are?


Commitment must be taught.  The ego must be put into place to allow others to assume their rightful place within the circle.


So much stock is put into psychology when the emotional nature of humans is still in its infancy.  When psychology is the measure of human nature it seems not to take into consideration that the person is unfinished.  And yet gives reason for behavior that doesn’t consider that we deal with big bodies with infant emotions and toddler feelings.


If accident or illness does not befall us we  grow old and die.  It’s just that some of us never grow up before we die.


Heaven cannot send out in the morning anything better than what arrives during the night.  If we do not learn what we must,  who is to blame if not us?  What will be our justification?


If you think I spoil the fun, look at our new babies and then think seriously of the condition of the world we leave to them.  They are going to have to live in it.  Is this what we had in mind?  Were we not supposed leave things better than we found them?


Children’s needs cannot wait.  One either does when the time is right or it never is the right time again.






Take a Few Moments. . . .


**We are the cabbage and the rose at once.  Earthy  and ethereal, at once.

**Memories are the bridge to the future.

**It takes time to pick up the threads of life upon return from being away, to make room for yourself again in lives that have already taken your absence into consideration.

**Old friends like old books demand that we return to them.

**To go over the same road again and again until the pain as well as joy no longer overwhelms
requires tough love.

**Life was not meant to be a vehicle of convenience.  Breathing itself is an imposition of sorts at

**Education is a thing of the heart and spirit and no learned institution can impart what is
necessary to complete a life.

**Inflated ego:   over estimation for public consumption

**To be human is an art to be learned and perfected; part of the soil, organic in compound and
with divine nature imbued.  It appears we do not think highly of the earth and its components.
Our behavior implies we must think being human is a debasement of sorts.

Photo by John Holmes


The Counselor. . . .


Oftentimes what I plan on doing does not happen.  And in its place comes a something long incubating but not surfacing.  In reading recently I came across the topic of emotions which brought Doris Lessing’s Shikasta series to mind.  The series brought up many topics for consideration.  And the subject of emotions are a topic to consume worlds. (And they do.)  I never thought differences in minute matters could cause great disturbances,  but even in how we see things and render our explanations puts us ill at ease.   That there is as much agreement among us is the marvel.   We all know people incapable of feeling.  We know of those who cannot say the word ‘love.’  When I related to my mother as a teenager reading a movie magazine that a movie star only kissed his children when they slept, she agreed.  It explained why she never hugged us.  So this was not an isolated case but more of a cultural or generational custom. Everything teaches, even movie magazines.  I introduce the thought to some,  while others may already entertain it,  that we come to this world from places different than our Earth.  Emotions are not commonly understood by all.  Some dip deeply into the well of who they are while others surf who they are.   It is all they can do.  To Ms. Lessing who wrote with such conviction,  I am indebted.

The Counselor

She sat across the desk,
crisp and sharp and
in charge of who she was.
Emotion is not fact, she said,
so separate what you feel
from what is happening.

Then why I ask is my heart breaking?
And with composure she assures me
my heart is whole.  She does not see
that my world is built
on feelings that shape my days.

I was born to paint my life
with the wide brush of emotion,
to teach me to love,
to see, to care and learn To Be.

When love withdrew from me
and left me barren, I knew
I would not forget its power to lift
me high enough to touch the heavens
and to care enough
for this Earth I walked to sweep
the debris where others might walk.

To see the opening of the crocus
in the covering of snow to tell
of Spring arriving and of days
becoming longer with light and
caressing me with breezes
as soft as baby kisses.

She did not know of worlds
where these emotions were not born yet,
where facts dealt the cards to be played,
where feelings did not lay color
on days and nights and
where learning to live with feelings

were reasons why we asked to be born of Earth.


Simple Observations

Simple Observations

Creativity requires expression and the expression will take on the coloration of the individual souls.  And memory being what it is would soon color the manifestations, would soon color situations with a diversity that would promote problem situations in order for Beings to work and live together.  It is how worlds are born.


The only purpose in doing a thing is what you bring to it.  Without the personal intent to do good or bring beauty,  the work is dead.  It may look all right but if there is no life in the creation, the project’s life will be of short duration.


It is far easier to prolong a situation waiting for it to work itself out.  Confrontation is not for everyone.  Especially when history has shown on whose shoulders the workload will fall.


When a lesson is simply given, in simple words, there is an enormously complex system behind it.  With most of it unsaid.


Can  one demand that someone grow up?  How does one do that?  When something is outside our frame of reference or will require a something from us, we will fight tooth and nail to remain innocent and free of taint.  We preserve our naivety because we think the new will undo us.  That we will go babbling down the street and be caught by the fellows in white coats.  Far better to be comfortable in what is familiar, otherwise we might have to think.


If you keep yourself too tired to think, then of course you don’t have time to be afraid.


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