Laughter has the power to breach barriers.
Laughter has the power to breach barriers.
You don’t have to have tears to cry.
Words should be used gently understanding the power they wield.
Words have the ability to cause great pain and to incite hatred and fear.
What you ask has gotten me in such a state? The answer: people who take offence for a perceived insult. A song written in 1944, that won an Oscar for best original song in 1949 and was popular in the 50s and 60s, offended someone more than 70 years later. So now it is an evil song about rape. Well that is one way to get into the spotlight.
Breaking News!! It was a different time. I am quite sure the writer did not consider it a rape song. Neither did I, I still don’t. What about the beloved Muppets being gay? First of all, who cares? These beloved characters were written to encourage children, not to coerce them to engage in sex. What is it about them that makes you want to label them? They are best friend!
Do you remember the year some Christmas Songs were re-interpreted? Some were considered homophobic, some anti-feminist and some just mean. Seriously people they are songs. Some were written many years ago. There was no evil agenda.
And then there are the children’s stories. Sleeping Beauty is about rape!!! Cinderella is a stereotype. Beauty and the Beast . . . well. Why do people insist on looking for the bad, the evil, the vile. You can twist anything if you try hard enough. I prefer to see the good, the wondrous, the hope that is in each of these stories. Am I turning a blind eye? Yes, I am. I prefer not to give the evil people of the world my time.
A woman is incensed because a 6 year old boy gave her 6 year old daughter a hug and a kiss in the school playground surrounded by 30 or 40 people. It was a innocent moment of affection between two CHILDREN. Nope, the mother said it was sexual assault and wanted the little boy removed from the school. Shame. Shame on that mother for making assumptions based on her hang-ups. What did those children learn?
People are constantly judging others negatively based on their own inadequacies. What are they trying to do? Does homophobia exist? Of course it does! Is it wrong? YES!!! Anti-feminism exists, sexual discrimination, racial prejudice exists. And so many more ways we discriminate against others and try to subjugate them. It is an evil world. But there is hope. Every year we as a people get a little smarter, a little more accepting. One day maybe we will truly be ONE people. I wonder what the perception of us will be in 70 years.
In the meantime, let the kids be kids and stop trying to pollute the playground.
A particular pairing of letters, vowels and consonants working in tandem have such incredible power. Power to move mountains and cripple worlds. Wielded by a talented scribe words are indestructible.
But which words?
Subversive. I like that word. Subversive . . . Rebellious . . . Revolutionary. I realize these words can be used to describe negative traits in a person, but they are also the words that are used to describe heroes and forward thinkers. People who think outside the box, people who refuse to let convention limit their artistic and innovative personalities. If we all thought the same, life would stagnate. We need people who challenge our beliefs and our inherent mediocrity. Perfection is stagnant, imperfection is charming, and I am charming as hell!
When someone is placed in a situation that is different or difficult, one adapts themselves to the situation or vice versa. You don’t have to follow the ‘book’. I do not know of one book on ‘how to be a person with a disability’ that ever asked for my opinion. Ergo, it was not written for me. We are all different and that difference is our strength. The professionals in the medical field all seem to have a ‘book’ they refer to when dealing with a person with a disability. Unfortunately that ‘book’ only refers to the middle of the road and most of us are a little off on the shoulder. I have had more than a few discussions with Physiotherapists and Occupational Therapists who seem to think I fall in the same mold as everyone else. I soon convinced them otherwise. To give them credit, when they realized I was actually capable of independent thought we got along much better. Of course I still had to watch and occasionally insist. I used to be so shy. I cannot afford to be anymore.
I hate the word can’t. Can’t, can’t, can’t. Recant, Vacant. Such negative words, harsh words. Unable, incapable or even cannot is preferable. Of course can, able, or capable are even more preferable. And if you look carefully, each positive word is inside the negative one. It is amazing how words can encourage us or even discourage us. Something as simple as a sound, vowels and consonants reverberating have the power to move us. A rousing speech made by an honest Politician, (and you thought I didn’t have a sense of humour) or music, good music. Music that we think is good. It doesn’t matter what anyone else thinks. Music, like Art, is personal even visceral. It is almost impossible to explain to another why a particular piece of music, or art, moves us. It doesn’t matter, if it touches you it can be used to benefit your situation. Anything, almost anything, that makes you feel good about who you are, is something you need in your life. As long as it doesn’t harm another and it is legal. I will not condone something that is illegal. At least not openly. Shhhhhh.
In order to understand, we must first learn to listen.
Understanding is a gift.
4 AM. The clock ticks inexorably towards 5 o’clock but it’s still a long way away. It is dark. It is quiet. But it is not silent. I can hear a clock ticking in the other room . . . tick tick tick. A relentless metronome. Tick tick tick. Isn’t there supposed to be a tock in there somewhere? It’s funny how we interpret what we hear.
I just heard a car, I think, it was a quiet, dull roar. Fortunately no car alarms! I can hear my refrigerator faintly humming. Not a tune I know. Silly me. I get a little punchy in the wee, wee hours of the day. Or is it still night? Technically it’s the morning but that doesn’t seem right until after dawn. But it is a quiet time.
I can hear my heart beating. Odd. It is something that has been doing the same job for more than 59 years and yet it is alien to me. My liver, my spleen. These are all important aspects of what make me but I have no relationship with them. They are the mechanics within the shell of my body. And I am no mechanic!
I am tired. But I am not sleepy. My body wants to rest but my mind insists it has something important to say. I wonder what that is. I wonder what is the meaning of life. Meaning. Mean. Such different meanings. Can you be mean to your meanings? How do we understand? Why do we not understand? We are not so different from each other and yet we insist that we are. Why? Why do we hate what we do not understand? When? When did we come to believe that it was okay to hate? Is that the meaning of life?
Understanding. Perhaps when we understand each other we will realize that only when we are acting as one can we become one. One species, one race, one people. Too few people have tried. We are raised to be individuals and we cannot comprehend how we can be a part of something bigger when we come together as a whole. We do not give up our individuality by joining a group we simply enhance the group.
I feel I’m in ranting but I also feel that it is important. I am important. You are important. But even better than all of that: WE ARE IMPORTANT!
A lonely child by the window sat,
And watched the rain fall down.
Rivulets formed on the glassy panes.
The drops a diamond crown.
A mother tried to soothe her child,
And told a story from long ago
About an angel lost in heaven
Who had no where to go.
Hid amongst the clouds so high
She feared the face of God
But He knew and He is kind
He cleared her celestial fog
“Fear not child, my love is true”
Came a gentle voice
”I’ll always be beside you
If that would be your choice.”
The frightened angel dried her tears,
And took the outstretched hand.
“Forgive me please my dearest Lord,
I did not understand.”
But still sometimes the tears do fall.
It’s a difficult path to keep.
Fear and sorrow overcome,
And then the angels weep.
So next you see a peaceful rain
Remember well this tale
Never fear the face of God
He will not let you fail
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Living life with a chronic illness is definitely not easy. But I do my best to push through all the barriers this illness puts in front of me! In my heart and mind, I believe maintaining a positive outlook on all situations in life will carry us through to much better times! I hope you find the information that I provide both helpful and inspirational!
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Retired from the University of Texas and too old to play soccer anymore. Now, in the twilight of his years, time is spent writing in this blog, hiking and exploring Texas Parks, photography, working out, gardening and tending to the five ponds he built .
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