A good life grows with unforseen charges

     The bill from the car garage was almost shocking.

     My son dropped off his truck to seek repairs for a pipe that rattled and caused a loud muffling noise.

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“At Home Comfort” Missing, Dough No Mo’

The Pretzel Store Closed.

     And my reason for celebrating Wednesday diminished. What good is staying at home if you can’t fulfill your one, small wish?

     A Soft Pretzel. Outside Philadelphia.

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Back Repairs Sought to Bolster Life of Back


I “intend” to repair my back.
 Not “cure” it. Not “fix” it.

Just get it back into working order. No more pains while getting out of bed or putting one leg after another into a pair of pants. That’s all. Make the back serviceable again.

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My mutiny quash causes pride, sadness

Part 2 (Please see Light Shines on My Mutiny Quash for Part 1)

     I had never felt so proud of anything — ever — as I was of their unselfish act of rebellion. For two hours, they put themselves on the line. No, they didn’t expose themselves to a firefight. (That would come later).

Honored for Looking Out for Their Welfare

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Finally, Light Shines on My Mutiny Quash

     I lied to my platoon to prevent a Mutiny from bursting to a head some 40 years ago.

     Today, I granted myself forgiveness. I cleansed a wound that never seemed to heal until now.

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Healing Technique Sparks Family Fall Out

     “Unclean spirits!” The words hit me like a ton of bricks. Across my face.

     Besides being rejected, I felt lightning had just stuck the ground beneath me. I detected fear and the raising of a drawbridge that would block out all light, no matter where the Source originated.

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EFT Workout is good for what Ails You

EFT Work-Out, Part 2

     Previous Blog Post Renewed Here

This article was taken from a Blog Post I wrote years ago when trying to explain the “Emotional Freedom Technique” to a family member.

(From: Healing Technique Sparks Family Fall Out)

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Thanks for a Path that Preserved my Life

     Ever wonder what life would have been like if you made different choices years earlier?

     Choosing a Different Path May Have Hurt You 

I was 19 when I felt “separated” from most of the people I hung out with and called friends. I wanted to be so much like them; not to care about such things as “love,” “compassion,”  other people’s feelings.” That was “sissy” stuff; stuff that only a “wuss” would think about. I saw these aspects of myself as a “weakness.

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Short Attention Spans Call for Short Posts

     What did I learn at “How to Blog” School?

Short Attention Spans call for Short Posts.

     Same as the headline above. My teacher advised me to keep my writing to a minimum. People won’t read anything too long, she said.

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Meditation opens a new path way home

Driving Should Always Be This Much Fun!

     I’m talking about my ride home from an “introduction to meditation” class I took at Montgomery County Community College the other night (Southeast Pennsylvania, about 20 miles outside of Philadelphia). Our instructors talked us into a place where I asked two simple questions: “Who Are You?” and Who Were You?” We took part in an exercise to find our other “Self,” and I met what I have come to describe as a friendly “pathfinder.”

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Letting Go to “Let God” for under $19.95

     Got inspired by a glimpse of another’s soul the other day and it cost me Nothing.

      Nada. Zippo.

      Not a Penny.

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Acupuncture calms stress, a veteran’s woes

      Needles punctured my ears for the first time in my life this week.

Veterans’ Day Offers Acupuncture at WON Institute

     Acupuncture was being offered for one free session to veterans on Veterans’ Day, and I appeared at the WON Institute in Glenside, PA, to take advantage of the procedure. The practitioner, Ed Cunningham, was kind, offering me some cheese and crackers as we made small talk and I got ready for the event.

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PTSD Raises a Monster Head from a Toilet

Put a straitjacket on me.

Hide me in a padded room.

Get me away from people.

All those I can harm by PTSD.

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Why mishaps plague me today of all days

       Footsteps pounding on the steps woke me this morning. My teenage son was running down the stairs. I heard him as I lay in bed.

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Can’t Writing Just Be Enough For Ya’ll?

     Why do I have to become a Geek?

Took a Course on Typing but not Computers

     It ain’t fair. I never was cut out to learn this computer stuff. I write. That means, I think. That means I am,” to paraphrase a famous philosophical phrase.

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Blog Banned; ‘Porn at School Suspected’

Got shut out of my Blog just now.

     Can’t get in the front door because the public computer is restricting my entrance. It says that I have, among other things “Italian pornography” in or on my Blog.

Italian Pornography.”

What the Hell is that?

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PTSD therapy often comes from survivors

War Zone Fears Not Easily Discussed by Veterans

Opening up” to a stranger is, at best, difficult to do. Confiding your “war zone” fears with a non-veteran can be worse, unless PTSD (Post Traumatic Stress Disorder) serves as a bond between a brother and a sister.

That’s how I have come to view my own shortcomings through the eyes and experiences of “trauma survivors” who faced similar life-altering devastations, but who are now finally able to talk about it for the benefit of all . . .

You’ll see by these comments below that there is no discrimination between man and woman when it comes to PTSD. It is an equal opportunity offender. 

— Finally! By One Survivor— 

  •       “I ran into a therapist back in 2005 who was very unethical. Between her and her clients, I was put through hell on her online forum.
  •       “Well, I found out a couple of months or so ago, that some of her clients were filing complaints against her. And not just her clients, but even another very reputable therapist is filing a complaint on behalf of several of her former clients. Apparently, they went to him after they left her and what they shared with him about her methods so concerned him that he felt he had to file.”

————

After reading the Blog Post I only had one thing to say:

     Wow!

How a therapist could hurt someone is beyond my way of thinking.

Don’t people go into that profession to actually “help” other people?

     I don’t know; sometimes people with PTSD can learn more from others with the same problems. Not so much that misery likes company, but you’re able find out that your own behavior isn’t so out of whack. The trauma is forcing so many others like us to seek help. Both men and women . . .  for a lot of different reasons.

     Reading about acts of healing and how to help others can, in itself, help us. But only if we face up to our condition.

I keep trying every day, having some little successes here and there, knowing I’ll probably have this devil called PTSD with me for the duration of my tour here on Planet Earth.

Good luck,

     Michael J 

Green Eyes demand attention, love and you

     That Right Moment Can Really Help You See

Seeing life in another lane, in another person, at another time and place, can bring out something inside of you that was there all along, but was unable to surface until a precise moment developed.

     Looking back, you wonder, how could I have not seen this before? Where was my mind, and why did I overlook it when it stared me straight in the eyes, begging me for just the slight payment of attention?

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‘Sliding Door’ let’s roads merge right now

Only the Now Exists Right Now!

Sliding doors by inwardsun

Was it Gertrude Stein, the early 20th-century poet and writer, who said, ” There was no ‘there’ there?

     Could we not be on a path, but in a circle?

     No beginning? No end? Only now!

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Meditation caps TBI conference in Philly

  ‘Nothing’s’ Gonna Change My World’

Meditation rewarded me with what Buddhists call “Nothing” at the end of a traumatic day Saturday.

I was at a conference involving brain injuries when I noticed on the day-long schedule that mindfulness meditation would be discussed” for survivors and their caregivers at Jefferson Hospital in Philadelphia, PA. Unable to talk my loved one into taking” a seat,” I went alone, and was surprised to see so many of the newly acquired friends I had just made while attending previous workshops earlier in the day

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Contoveros’ Nysiros photographs well

First photos from Greece appeared on my Blog today. They were photographed from the Aegean Sea port off the tiny volcano island of Nysiros, which boasts all of four small fishing villages.

     Wow. Ain’t Technology Great?

     I did not think I could do this with my lack of experience in this new medium. I gotta keep at this to share a little of my trip of a lifetime to visit my father’s homeland and the Seat of Western Civilization. I wonder what type of Eastern thought influenced Hellenic Greece. How much learning from the spiritual masters made its way across the Muslim world to Westerners?

     Alexander the Great helped to spread our ways. Don’t you think their” ways had to influence us, even through a little osmosis?

     I would like to think so. And if I say it is so, then “it is so.”

     After all, this is my blog, my reality, my niche on which to meditate. Who cares what illusions someone wants to impose from outside? I’ll stay within, where the light shines on Nysiros, Greece, in the summer of 2008.

Namaste!

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Will Vietnam PTSD trap ever set me free?

    What do anger, dreams, PTSD, and “Letting Go of one’s past have to do with each other? They’re all part of a discussion on vetting our emotions through dreams to deal with our conscious selves. Join me and another Michael J in our recent comments to his post: Practicing for the Bardo by Urbansannyasin 

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Birds play in ‘carefree flight’ above me!

      A scene from a Hitchcock movie rushed before my eyes as I saw a half dozen birds fly toward me while stuck in traffic this afternoon.

Sparrows Open Themselves for a Wonderful Air Flight

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Negative Neighbor negates all Niceties

 It seems that every time I try to be niceto my handicapped wife, she reacts with a negative view towards me and my message.

     You might be interested in this letter, I said to her as she lies on the couch reading her daily newspaper.

     “No, I wouldn’t,” she replies without even glancing up from the newsprint. It’s a notice about school and a chance to go to college. But she won’t even look at the letter about her son.

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Despite Road Rage, Light Shines on PTSD

     Unable to curb my road rage today, I finally grasped a thread of my PTSD and traced it back to its source.

I Wish I Could Use This Action Whenever PTSD Arises

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Walking Meditation Nearly Takes a Dive

     Bumping into the wall and walking to the edge of a swimming pool with eyes firmly shut is not the best way to do a Walking Meditation.

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Hope Floats On Bubbling Spa Waters

     Close your eyes, and you might see.

     See the weightlessness that your body becomes as you float on the waters of a nearby spa.

Floating can Elevate Peace and Calm

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‘One Step Back’ leads to ‘Two Forward’

   Advising Another Can be a Learning for You  

Ever learn about yourself while giving heartfelt advice to someone else?   

My kid served as a mirror this morning, as I discussed why he should not quit on his “tech” teacher at school.

     It ain’t easy admitting that you, the parent, may need the same sage advice as the child. Worse yet, is trying to reason with a 17-year-old. They are so smart, they know practically everything to know in this world.

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Longing Creates the Love for Ever More

A Sufi approach to life has grown on me, particularly in its Spiritual view.

Love has both Masculine and Feminine Sides

     Love, according to the wise ones, is both masculine and/or feminine. “I love you,” is clearly masculine, while “I am waiting for you; I am longing for you” suggests the feminine side.

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Eating could be my next great challenge

Here’s a Little Food for Thought:

Why is text messaging confined only to a hand-held devise?

     When you come across something so beneficial, why can’t you just send it to as many friends you have found along your path, along your new journey? Force an alarm to go off at the other end, raising the alert level a few notches higher. That’ll get some notice. Get someone to at least glance at the text. 

     Well, I guess I will just have to rely on this old-fashioned approach to providing info: Putting it out on the ‘Net.

     Hence, I am providing everyone — Meat eaters and non-Meat eaters — the following post that originally appeared in an article on western Buddhism. Enjoy it. Better yet, try the practice. Whether you follow a Zen approach or not, you could help yourself be a more enlightened self:

     

HOW TO EAT WITH A BUDDHIST PRACTICE

How I lost 20 lbs. in a month through Buddhism!by dragonflydm

  •     When you eat, always be aware of what you are eating.
  •      Continually remind yourself that food may be pleasurable, but it is fuel not entertainment or an emotional substitute.
  •      Never reward yourself with a food treat. If, every time you accomplished a goal, you rewarded yourself with a $1,000 shopping spree how long would it take before you stopped and just allowed the joy of accomplishment be enough?
  •      Never eat something until you had time to think about that choice. Do you need to eat it? After you have finished eating that pleasure food, will you regret it?
  •      At the start of daily (or weekly meditation) take a minute to reflect on your relationship with food. “Meditation develops your concentration,” says Megrette Fletcher, RD, cofounder of the Center for Mindful Eating in West Nottingham, New Hampshire.
  • ————-
  •      Keep a calorie journal. My journal was an application on iPhone, but you can just as easily buy a book that notates the calories of every food and recording everything.
  •      According to the Center for Mindful Eating, think of eating as scale with “starving” on one side and “stuffed” on the other. In Okinawa, there is a cultural tradition called “class=”hiddenSpellError” pre=””>hara hachi bu” which means “eat until you are only 80% full.” Okinawa has the largest population of centenarians in the world.
  •      Chew your food! It can take 20 minutes for the body to register what you have eaten. Taking time, allows the mind to catch up to the mouth. In addition, chewing gum before a meal creates the mental sensation of starting the meal early and the mind—thinking it has been eating for a longer time—will lessen your appetite.
  • ————-
  •      Avoid ice cold drinks when eating! Cold drinks push food through the stomach, but hot drinks also loosen up the stomach muscles and give the sensation that you are fuller.
  • Do not eat on autopilot. (“Don’t eat where you … !”) Eating while driving, working, watching TV are all very convenient. They are also distracting. I can eat an entire large pizza without noticing or enjoying the experience. Move your eating time to a separate location where eating is the primary mission.
  •      Food is only a reward when training puppies! Did you finally get your five mile run finished in 40 minutes? Fantastic! But don’t make that an excuse to open up the pint of ice cream. When you find yourself “treating” yourself to food, stop and investigate those feelings and cravings instead. Then put the spoon down!
  • ————
  •      Don’t measure yourself to who you think you should be. Just as in meditation, we must be in the moment. Phrases like “only if I …” will demotivate and discourage progress. Buddhism teaches that there is the conceit of thinking we are better than others and also the conceit of thinking that others are better than us. Craving for a “self” concept and a permanent image of what our impermanent bodies should look like creates suffering.

     Many thanks, and a bow of the head (as well as the heart) to my friend dragonflydm.

Look him up! His message hits home!

 

Trying to Make Amends for Vietnam War

How do you say you’re sorry to a people whose country you bombed in the name of peace and democracy?

     What words can you use after saying that you are personally sorry for the Vietnam War and the mistakes our government made some 40 years ago?

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Life’s Ultimate Prize Goes to Those Aware

I admit it. I cheated. I rushed to a finish line and cheated myself. I thought I could complete the course as quickly as possible to move on to the next life event. But it took me but a moment to realize my mistake.

I had cheated myself of real improvement, real growth and I now know that the true challenge in life lies in the smallest detail. Continue reading

I’m saying “Let it go” really means Let it go

Contoveros comments on his Meditation Technique

     “[If] . . .  we are not keeping ourselves open to the new opportunities that may appear . . . [w]e will miss them because we are still in our old mindset . . .”

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Mother Nature’s quick fix heals the blues

Back For More Meditation and Bird Talk! 

Contoveros comments on a Recent Blog Post

Laura,
    Watching the birds does help. So does meditation so long as you can nudge out not only the bad thoughts but all thoughts that could intrude upon the present: the watching of birds, the chirping of the birds when you close your eyes; the feel of the sun as it warms your body.   

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Voice needed to keep us men folk in line

There’s no such thing as “girlfriend aggro” by PottyMouthMommy

     This was my response to the above writing 1 day ago:

 Holy Shit!
     I stumbled on your post from a thread on “anger” and it blew me away.

   I’m a guy who never really looked at things from that perspective before. I don’t play the dungeon and dragons stuff, but I used to stay glued to a football and/or baseball game come hell or high water.

     Was my wife seething in the other room because of my sports mistress?

     Family Problems are but Unicorn Rainbow Poop”

I gotta remember this line from your great post-writing. You have a way with describing something in such earthy, easily relatable terms that makes it a joy to view and ponder.

     But would you have been so inspired to bring forth such an informative and entertaining post if life provided you with a Rose Garden?
     Ok, ok, you’ll take a rose garden any day over a life of thorns, weeds and creepy, crawly, critters sometimes called a spouse.

The Better Half and the Lower Half

     You “are” appreciated. You ARE loved. You are “needed” to share your voice with both the better half (you women) and the lower half (” some,” . . . all right, . . . “most” . . . damn it!, do I really got to say “ALL” . . . men?) [present company excluded, particularly when you will only be able to see or hear me bellowing out words that’ll appear on a “man-made” computer terminal.

    {Crap. The automatic edit machine wanted me to change “man-made” to “synthetic.” The computer has no balls, let alone an eye for literary art   .   .   .    Humph!}

     Please continue with your contributions. It could help keep some of us in line or to get “back” in line.]
       — Michael J Contos

(Comments are from a post on spousal (righteous) anger two weeks ago)

Safe Place Still No Guard Against PTSD

My Correspondence with a Woman with PTSD

     You got it Sweetheart!

      PTSD is what this Vietnam War veteran is talking about.

      You also have a great talent to mine your deep reserves and present them in a way that encourages others, while also instructing us, not to mention self-medicating with the soft touches of someone who puts love around the events to give them space.

      I have anger issues. Flashbacks occur when I least expect them, but usually only during stressful situations (or when the Phillies put Brad Lidge out to pitch the ninth inning). No kidding. I actually stopped watching baseball games because of my reactions.

Meditating and Blogging Help my PTSD Flare-Ups

      I meditate, and now — over the past 3 weeks [since Sept 24, 2009] — I also write a post, feeling inspired to make a comment when I read something as moving as your story.

      We need your voice.

      I like your voice. (I may even steal some ideas from your voice, but don’t tell anyone I said that. Got a reputation to uphold, you know).

     — Thanks, from Michael J Contos

 ————

     The above comment was provided by me for a Blog post called Think’ily Broken.

The following is the Corresponding Comment

 spiritsh@host301.hostmonster.com show details from an Oct 19th message to Written Whispers the Blog:

     Here is the new reply:

     Flashbacks are a pain in the everything- the mind, the heart- everything.

     I rarely have anger, at least outwardly and obviously directed at people but since the PTSD has started coming out as badly as it has, I’ve found myself on the verge of screaming at people when I get into really stressful situations.

     I’m sorry to hear that via the baseball. I had to stop watching one of my fave television shows for the same reason. I just get so into it and then I freak out when something dramatic happens.

PTSD Makes You Avoid Normal Things

     Then afterwords I feel so silly after having freaked out the way I did but I just can’t help it. It seems to unfair that on top of having all this stuff affect us after it happens and we’re in safe and better places we have to literally avoid perfectly normal things because of stuff like this.

     Thank you very much. I’m going to have stop by your blog very soon and leave a couple of comments myself.

     (Oh, and steal away. I live to inspire so be it it gives me more to read eventually.)

      Peace and once again- thank you for the great comments regarding PTSD. It made my day in more ways than you know (or maybe you do) to be reminded I’m not the only one.

 ————-

    (The above comments were generated after reading a young woman’s struggle with PTSD on Oct. 17, 2009)

    (Comments generated after reading a young woman's struggle with PTSD on Oct. 17, 2009)

PTSD alert: don’t squander away your life

Teutonic Plate shifted inside of me.

     I felt someone had thrown water at my face, had “hit me upside my head” and looked me dead in the eye demanding my fullest attention. Have I been squandering away my life?

Wasting my life?

     Why even ask this question now, when my most productive years, the salary-producing ones, have ended as I have “gone on disability” and live from the benefits provided by the Veterans Administration and not from my labor?

     This question shook me to the marrow of my bones a few days ago. I was attending a workshop for veterans and their families facing PTSD (post-traumatic stress disorder) when I felt a Greek Chorus address me with its multiple groupings of male and female voices, advising me not to squander away my life.

     Later, I asked myself what it actually means, this “squandering” business.

What’s there to Really Squander Away in Life — Life Itself

     And does anyone intentionally set out to squander a life away? Squander. Most people only use the word sparingly, and usually when money is the focus of the inquiry. We all have heard examples in our lives:  “He’s going to squander away his inheritance,” or “she squandered away all the money raised for little Jimmy’s operation,” and one of my favorites espoused by today’s pundits, ” George W. Bush squandered away all the Good Will America generated right after 9 – 11.”

     “Squander” hardly ever appears alone. I normally see it used with the word, “away,” as in the loss of some unique skill. “We had so much hope in his potential, but he seemed to have ‘squandered away‘ his (fill in the blanks)   .  .  .”Natural Ability”   .    .    . “Writing Talent”   .   .   .   “Singing Career,” etc.”)

     But I’m not talking about forfeiting some achievement, great wealth, or some future thing.

     I’m talking about Life.

     How does one squander that away?

(See Part II, Squander)

   

‘Infinite Mercy’ May Set my Teacher Free

     My son’s favorite teacher killed herself.

She was depressed, they said, when she took the life of her three-year-old son. Then . . . she committed suicide, leaving a note for her husband and the child’s father.

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Tibetan Book Winds its Way Thru My Life

     I got a chill when I saw the word “Tibet” today because it took me back to the late 1960s when I was a newly minted second lieutenant trying to make his way in the US Army. The words that impressed me then, however, had nothing to do with the military. It had everything to do with life. Nearly 40 years later, I see that the “Tibetan Book of the Dead” called out to me, though I may not have known it then. Continue reading

When Is Using God’s Name Blasphemy?

      God damn it. I forgot the lead I wanted to write here.

     It was on the tip of my tongue (pen, key board key, etc.), and Christ, I lost it.

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Music (mantra) melts the mind madness

      When I want to (need to?) quiet the chatter inside of me, I play a little music in my head — sort of like a mantra — that  becomes a lullaby for the Mind.   

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Release Me; I Swear I’ll Never Sin Again

     Hey. Please get me out of here.

     How the hell did I end up here, this empty place where no one can see me, touch me, or, more importantly, hear me?

     Why am I locked up, away from the world outside this jar-like existence. Who did I piss off? What was my grievous sin?

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Identity Loss Leads to New Outlook on Life

     I lost my wallet.

     And found a new freedom that only the loss of identity could possibly grant me.

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Can aspiring to be “God-like” be heresy?

     I felt so inspired by Robert Terrell’s guest column for Confessions of a Mystic that I penned a response that asks if we can ever become “God like” in our daily lives:

 *      *      *      *      *     *     *      *       *     

    * On reading Robert’s excellent article, I was reminded of a philosophy espoused by a fellow named Sartre, in a play called “No Exit.” It dealt with life after death and how a man living with two women in one room viewed existence. “Hell. . . ,” the man said. ” . . .is . . . other . . . people . . .

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— Who’s to Blame For War After War? —

I Blame God for War.

     I blame the Most Powerful Force in the Universe for not using its Almighty Abilities to stop war dead in its tracks.

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“I may be a descendant of someone’s slave”

   Discussing the History of Nat Turner

 “Ever Hear of Nat Turner?” Sheriff Joe Wilkens asked me?

     “Sure,” I said. “He’s a famous black man who led a slave uprising before the Civil War.

     You’re right, my friend Joe said, adding that he was a direct descendent of the leader of the most notorious revolt during the US slave era. Nat Turner lived on a North Carolina farm and was secretly taught to read by the son of his master, Joe recalled. Slaves were discouraged from learning to read, and some were severely punished when their scholarship was discovered.

     Nat Turner’s master, however, permitted his “property” to learn to read. But he could only read the Bible.

     And that’s exactly what Nat Turner did, reading that book from cover to cover, back and forth, and even in in-between, realizing there was a message there for all men, no matter the color of their skin.

Spreading Anti-Slavery Message as a Preacher

     He also realized that he could express that message in the form of a preacher. A preacher who became so good at spreading the Good Word to fellow slaves that free Whites and other slave owners soon came a-visiting the nearby slave household to hear the Gospel According to Nat Turner.

     Something happened following one of Nat Turner’s evangelistic presentations. A vision appeared to him!  Something mystical occurred, some say. Something that changed Nat Turner’s view of the world from that moment on:

Slavery was not good!

     That simple notion took on a life of its own, and Nat Turner led slave after slave out of their bondage, tearing them away from years of forced servitude. Historians are mixed about the impact of that revolt.

     Nat Turner’s followers killed more than 80 people on a flight away from slavery and toward the path of freedom.

     Of course, the slave revolt did not last. A militia came to the fields, captured, and killed Nat Turner. And all that’s left is the story of the most daring slave rebellion this country had ever seen.

     “That’s quite a story,” I told Joe, setting him up for the next line. “But I may be a direct descendant of another slave who led a revolt,”

     “Who?” Joe was quick to ask, wondering how some White guy whose was Greek could try to match his story about slavery. My reply quickly followed:

Ever Hear Of Spartacus?”

Spartacus Images - Free Download on Freepik

I Am Spartacus” and other Greek Wariors also claim “I Am Spartacus!”

     Joe and I smiled at each other, understanding that good friends can often have so much in common once they share a bond together.

— Some Wounds May Never Ever Heal —

The Vietnam War changed Joe.

       It stripped him of all interest in leading people in any official capacity. Forever.

     He has never been the same since coming Home, but he didn’t know that until years later when he was shaken awake to this harsh reality through a PTSD (post-traumatic stress disorder) session in Vietnam.

     They called him “Philly Joe” in the US Army squad he commanded. The City of Brotherly Love was his home, and many like him took on the name of their state or city while in the service. He was a sergeant, in charge of a squad of grunts,” infantry soldiers who canvassed the “bush,” the jungle of Vietnam, helicopter flight after helicopter flight.

       Joe was the type of leader that men loved to serve with — honest and compassionate, yet firm with a no-nonsense approach when a crisis called for it. More importantly, Joe’s men followed him because each knew from experience that Joe would not ask you to do anything that he would not have done himself.

Joe Trains a Recruit to be a Machine-Gunner

     That’s why Harris, a young recruit who heard of Joe’s military savvy, had asked to become a member of his squad, his “fire team.” “I made him my machine-gunner,” Joe recalled. In addition to carrying the heavy weapon, Harris packed a .45 pistol, a weapon generally handled by those not carrying an M-16.

     And it happened one day that Harris had quietly approached Joe and told the sergeant he had lost the handgun. The squad was flown in by helicopter to a section where they all dismounted and slowly spread out, marching nearly half a “Klick,”(half a kilometer or 500 meters) before Harris discovered the loss and approached the sarge, confiding in him.

     Joe did not want Harris to get into trouble for losing the military-issued weapon. More importantly, Joe said, he did not want the enemy to get their hands on it and use it against some GI.

Return to Enemy Territory to Retrieve Gun

         And so, Joe ordered his squad to stand down and wait, as he and Harris made their way back through an untrodden path, making their way back to the landing zone (LZ).

  • They found the gun!
  • And the VC (Viet Cong) found them!

        Joe and Harris came under fire, being shot from some small arms from some unknown direction. They moved quickly, trying to retrace their steps away from the now marked area and get to the safety of the other men.

        An unseen enemy sharpshooter, who had apparently lay in wait for the Americans, hit Harris. Joe saw Harris take the shot and the sergeant propped up the “younger man.” (Joe was all of 18 years old when he directed the lives of the “kids,” those “new in-country.”) Harris struggled, but with Joe’s help, both made it back to safety.

Million-Dollar Wound Way Off Base

      “You got a million-dollar wound,” Joe remembered telling Harris, as he helped to attend his wound. “You’re going home,” he added, trying his best to keep the injured soldier calm and relaxed, focused on something other than the pain that could too easily force him to go into shock. It worked.          The young man’s injuries appeared to stabilize when a helicopter crew flew in to medevac him out of the field and to an Army Hospital.

 .   .   .   Where Harris died from his wound.

.   .   .    Thus, injuring a major part of Joe’s psyche, Joe’s soul, and his outlook in early adulthood. 

————–

      Oh, Joe finished his tour just fine, getting out of the war zone one month short of a 12-month rotation. But he never felt the same way as he did in giving orders before the loss of Harris.

Never Give Anybody Any Orders Again

          It haunted him in a way he only recently realized. You see, Joe has never sought advancement in any of the jobs or career paths he chose to follow after the war. “They wanted me to be a supervisor,” Joe said of assembly line work he once performed in a factory. Joe turned the position down cold.

         Years later, while serving as a correctional officer in the prison system, Joe smiled and simply refused to follow the advice of others, urging him to “put in” for sergeant. The same thing occurred while working as a sheriff, handling prisoners to and from the courtroom where I had met him.

     Why doesn’t he apply for a higher rank, a higher position? Courtroom employees wondered about Joe’s refusal to try to get more money and become a sergeant. He was qualified, and sometimes, he was actually doing the job of a superior officer.

Can’t Even Give Orders to Others at Church

     The members at his Baptist Church in Philadelphia asked similar questions after Joe, time and again, politely refused to be named a deacon. He could not give an order from any official position, he said.

     He could not bear the loss, the pain, the hurt of a person following his order who could fall prey to, no matter how minuscule the risk.

     One will never know what life Joe would have led had he not be stricken in war. You can only imagine coming in contact with a guy like Joe.

     You won’t see any of Joe’s injuries at the first meeting with him.

     But they are there. They’re part of his PTSD.

     And some wounds may never ever heal.

— Why Must This Path Purt So Much? —

Pain: What Good Is It?

     Sometimes, it works. But sometimes it tears into my psyche, bringing with it a fear that this discomfort, this thorn will continue to haunt me, raising its head more and more as I feel the aging process more keenly and with it, an unwanted sense of my mortality, my deterioration and the inevitable end that I will someday meet. When the pain increases and I can’t steer my mind away from it, I know deep inside that the end is not so very far away!

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“Thank you” for letting me serve, somehow

  • Ever get more out of doing something nice for someone than that person ever expected you could possibly get?

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Potluck heads bucket list of things to do

Lighting Up With Something New in Life

My favorite store greeter told me she wanted to smoke grass before turning 60.

     Why not study art, writing, or some other esoteric topic? I asked.

     No, she said, “I have never smoked marijuana before.”

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Banner bird brightens boy’s breakfast

A little bird brightened my day today.

     The bird recognized me out of more than a hundred people sitting at tables eating breakfast.

     I had not noticed until after I had gotten my free breakfast, sat down, and began munching half of a piece of bacon. I chewed and chewed and methodically relished the taste with my eyes closed and my mind “forced to stay “in the moment.”

     I felt calm and “in tune” as I glanced up, feeling that I had just been watched, was still being observed, being singled out.

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“Don’t like this love…(crap)” she told me!

     “I don’t like this love shit,” a woman I was about to meditate with whispered to me while in the circle of our six-person meditation “community.”

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Veterans find joy in their own backyards

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Meditative dining offers food for thought

     Mindfullness Practice Helps While Eating 

Eating sausage in the morning helps me “Be in the Moment.”

     I dine at an IKEA store in Conshohocken, PA, the North American headquarters for the Swedish furniture company. It offers a restaurant serving good food for prices that beat the costs of diners and even fast-food places. (99 cents for scrambled eggs, home fries, and a choice of bacon or sausage. Coffee is free from 9:30 to 10 a.m. with refills.

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Dream reveals a key to unlocking Paradise

     I dreamed I wore a dress to a training class for new lawyers learning to defend criminal defendants. No one noticed my garb.  None of the other attorneys said anything, and I never felt different” or out of place as a brand-new public defender awaiting to argue his first case in Court.

     But when I left the room and took a break, a supervisor removed the dress as he and others tried to run off with what they said was “inappropriate” clothing for a man’s courtroom appearance.

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Serving others helps to serve you as well

The purpose of Life is to know, love, and serve the Creator.

But how do you serve an All-Giving Entity?

I believe thatto Serve the Creator is to Serve Humanity”

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What’s Love Got To Do with My PTSD?

        Love can Help You Deal with PTSD

     What’s Love got to do with PTSD (Post Traumatic Stress Disorder)?

     The feelings they generate stem from that same Core within, at least, the same Core within me.

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Angels Appear as Earthly Messengers

 It’s just like heaven . . . Being here with you . . . You’re like an Angel . . Too good to be true. When You are near me.  My heart skips a beat.  I can hardly stand on. My own two feet.  Because I Love You; I Love You, I Do.  ‘Angel Baby’. My ‘Angel Baby’. Oh, Ooh, I Love You, Oh, Ooh, I Do . . .  No One Could Love You . . .  Like I Do!
                                                   — Rosie & the Originals

     Angels are Drawn from Dreams & Meditation

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Can’t Hurry Him; You just have to Wait!

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No Need to Try and Hurry Love

If I hurry, I know I will miss the moment.

By rushing, I’ll be too invested in the future than in the “now.” I would be forward-looking, not looking at the present.

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