Hope…

Hope is the presence of the belief
“It will be better!”

Hope for a “thing”, “to be”,  or “not to be”
Provides meaning.

Yes meaning!
Meaning for the meaningless.

Without hope, a vision of the future
Is without purpose.

Yes it is meaningless!

I somehow think “hope”
Is a “gift” from our Creator.

Some people are blessed with it.
Others are searching.

Originally written:   January 6, 1999

There was a day in my life when hope seemed to disappear.
There were a lot of things that went into the feeling of
hopelessness.  It had built up over several years.  I picture it
like tiny grains of sand piling up around my feet.  Slowly I
was being buried. My feet and legs locked  by the sand
into one position unable to escape.  My future was dark
and without hope. 

I took my 68 Chevy Biscayne  white station wagon for a
drive alone up into the Rocky Mountains on a curvy
two lane road named Left Hand Canyon.  I drove up to the
top very despondent over the way life had beaten me down
and kept me down. My chest felt like a ton was sitting on it
making it hard to breathe. My mind racing to find a way to
solve all the dilemmas I was facing.   I stopped at the top
I turned the car around and sped down the mountain road
with the intent of going straight on a curve that had a thousand
foot drop.  The car came to that corner and skidded
precariously close. but turned that corner.  I slowed down
and drove home.  I can’t tell you how the car made it through
that curve.  Once on the other side of that curve everything
changed.
 
After that moment I decided I was in charge.  I was not
going to let others dictate how I was going to feel.  Life has
dropped a lot of lemons onto my lap.  I had a lot credit card
debt, got divorced, lost custody of my kids due to an
alcoholic attorney mistakes, my job was closed down, and I was
forced to move 1200 miles away from my children.   

I have never lost hope again.  I know there are good days and
bad days. I know how to use lots of lemons to make lemonade,
lemon with beer, tea, and even on salads.   I have become
versatile in dealing with both the good and bad events. 

I share my personal experience in the I desire others would there
is hope and better days and have the same faith in the future I have.

A Time of Reflection

The last day has passed.
The new beginning anticipated.

A time of reflection
Of successes and failures.

It seemed so far away,
The sands of time just slipped away.

A future is perceived
Filled with accomplishments.

It’s nearness searing
Past memories and hopes into memories.

Originally written:  January 1, 1999

The new year has arrived and I was reflecting on what happened in past years
as a new year began.  This year was not so different from other years.  Yet,
this was the last year before 2000. There were the worries and concerns about
a lot of things working in the year 2000.   There were dire warnings and media
added to our anxiety.  I wonder if they really acquired additional customers
because of their coverage?   Did they sell more advertising on TV?   I personally,
do not think they did.  In our house and our jobs problems were non-event.  I 
hope it was the same in your homes  and jobs as well. 

There are moments in time when reading mass media I pause  and wonder if the
They are doing a proper job in their reporting.  It seems bad events or happenings
are reported more often and good news items do not have the same frequency of
reporting.   News items that drive anxiety up seem to get published more often than 
good news.  Maybe I am wrong.  I just wonder what others think.

Hole in My Heart

Death leaves a hole

In the heart,

Emptiness personified.

Longing unanswered.

Time slows down.

Grief sears my soul..

 

Originally written and sketched:  December 8, 1998

In the prior years I had lost several dear friends and family.  I wrote and sketched this feeling the emptiness family and friends left in my life and heart.  The image that came to mind was a hole in my heart.    When a loved one is lost I think it does leave a hole in one’s heart.   Grieving is a process we all get to learn as we grow older.  It is part of the maturing process.  It is one I would love to do without, but then I would not be the person I am because the pain and suffering make me cherish the moments I had with the loved one.  More importantly I have found that I cherish the living more.

 

There Goes I, But for the Grace of God

• There goes I, except for Grace of God.
  The homeless.
  The convicted.
  The disenchanted.
  The victims.
  The list is endless.
• Yes, there goes I, except for Grace of God.
  The self enamored.
  The power hunger.
  The poor in spirit.
  Even those with out hope.
• The list is endless.

Originally written:  December 9 1998

• There have been so many instances that could have gone
  wrong in my life.  Is it by luck or happenstance or is
  it hard work and a willingness to help others that I am
  not in one of these situations?   Yet, I know there were
  moments when just luck or karma could have a sad
  result.  Sad and bad things happen to very good people.
• When I see a disadvantaged person my heart goes out to
  them.  I know I could just as easily be standing where
  they are.  The way to live is to live for today and with
  love.  Love for your family and friends helping those
  with less and in need.  
• I see young people sent to prison for what was considered
  mischief when I was a youngster.   On Guy Fawkes Night
  there was always mischief in the small town and county
  where I grew up.  Tipping over outhouses,  paper
  with cow dung lit on fire and doorbell rang,  door bell
  ringing and leaving.  Yet, when eggs thrown at a house
  stained the house the house was repainted by the culprits. 
  Of a small town of 5 streets there were 3 police cars looking
  for shenanigans with no success. Yet,  New Years
  Eve streamers decorated the park trees in the morning
  after.  We moved away from that small town to a large city
  when I was 11 years old.  I still like small towns.  Oh,
  yes I should mention that my dad was the town marshal
  and a deputy sheriff of county.
• As a teenager I stepped on a corner of a policeman’s
  yard and then walked up the alley to my house.  My
  friend and I stood in the middle of the alley and talked. 
  I remember we laughed and joked about something at
  the mall.  About that time the policeman living on the
  corner stepped out into the alley and then went back into
  his house.  It was about ten minutes later when 2
  police cars turned into the alley from opposite ends with
  their lights on.  It scared us.  We ran in opposite directions. 
  I between houses and out into a large field.  About that
  time I heard the policemen yell, “Halt or I will shoot.” and
  then a pistol shot.  I kept on running.  Running in fact
  out of my shoes.   I ran for about 1/2 mile in the dark to
  a ditch.  There I stayed for an hour.  It seemed like
  forever.  I, then slowly walked home by roundabout way
  only to be captured as I approached my home.  The first
  question I was asked was; “What happened to your shoes?
  Do you often go out with just your stockings?”
• I received a very stern lecture from the policeman about
  running from them.  I was informed about the possible
  consequences.  My father was not as generous.  Yet,
  my memory retains one punishment. I had to go the
  next day and apologize to the policeman on the corner
  whose lawn I stepped on.  He was a  Lieutenant on the
  cities police force.  I weeded and mowed his lawn for a
  couple weeks.  Every time I hated every agonizing
  moment of it.  Yet, the lesson was emblazoned upon my
  memory – Don’t mess with a policeman and don’t run away.
  They will catch up to you.
• The sixteen year old neighbor boy ran into trouble with
  the same policeman.  He squealed his tires turning in
  front of his house.  The policeman warned him but he
  did not pay attention.  Within a couple of weeks he lost his
  license to traffic violations.  The policeman had given his
  car’s license number to other policeman who did him a
  favor of stopping that car anytime they could spot a
  moving violation. When he continued to drive he was
  arrested and spent time in jail.  When he got out he
  was as careful as I was around the neighborhood.
• Yes,  I was lucky I did not end up in the boys home or
  reformatory as they were called then.  My life would have
  been very different. 

I Pause

• I pause
  It is time.
• Yes, time,
  Time to take note.
• I pause,
  Contemplating.
• Yes, contemplating,
  Contemplating my gifts.
• I pause,
  It is time.
• Yes, time,
  Time to say “Thank you!”

Originally written: November 26, 1998

• Each of us at sometime in our lives, stop, pausing to say
  “Thank You Lord!”   It does not need to be within the
  walls of a cathedral or even a church.   It can be done
  on a walk, while driving,  during morning or evening
  prayers.  It can be done in the city or in the forest.
• I take time to acknowledge the gifts I have received.  They
  are as simple as the first thought in the morning to the last
  thought of the day.  The gift of wife, children, and even
  grandchildren in my life.  The artistic abilities and friends
  who keep me on the right path with their straight talk and
  truths. 
• I want to live my life with a glass full attitude.  I have much
  to be thankful for. 

 

Babble, Babble, Babble

• Babble, babble, babble
  I babble on.
  Thoughts to words
  Words to paper.
• I babble on,
  For what I wonder,
  Do I babble on?
• Yet, I babble on.
  Filling some inner need,
  Thoughts to words,
  Words to paper.
• When will the babble end?
  When my last breath
  Of this earth’s air
  Leaves my lungs for the last time.

 

Originally written:   October 30, 1998

• There are moments when I just babble on for no observable
  value to myself or others. Yet, the thoughts come forth and
  are translated into words.  I have felt the undeniable drive
  to put these words down into a personal journal.  
• Are the words for others?  The words are for myself, and
  my children first.  I originally wanted to write down in my
  journals the “Ahhh Ha’s” or moments of truth I discovered
  in my life.  It was a way I could help my descendant to
  understand who I was and what I thought.   I came to that
  decision after reading C.S. Lewis and the movie
  Shadowlands that shows him writing in his journals.   I left
  that movie and purchased a blank book that was 8 1/2 by 11
  inches in size.  As I wrote into the blank books/journals
  the thoughts came and were translated into what you see on
  this blog.  This little “ditty” is located in the 4th of 6 volumes
  of journals. 
• I have shared several of the entries with friends over the 13
  years.  A friend recommended sharing the writings via a blog
  in January 2010.  Since then I have been gradually entering
  the musings.  I have selected some of the previous entries to
  create a book of prose for a family reunion silent auction.  I
  was amazed it sold. I think I understand why it sold? It was
  family memorabilia. There were over 250 descendents at the
  family reunion.  The proceeds of the auction go toward funding
  the next family reunion.
• Reading the entries from the beginning to the end provides a
  unique view of who I was and changes in my life.  Yes, some
  of the writings can be taken several different ways.  That was
  and will be intentional sometimes to provide a humor and
  thought. 

The Journey of My Soul

• The journey of my soul
  It is not a straight path.
  It never was, nor will it be.
• I meander, self-directed, others directed,
  And yes, even God directed.
  Hopefully more of the latter.
• Each milestone a learning experience.
  A chance to share, to love, to learn,
  And to agonize.
• It is the meandering
  That provides my growth.
  That expands my knowledge.
  That challenges my worn out ideas.
• I meander with a purpose,
  To grow in love.

Originally written:   October 30, 1998

• Yes,  I meander through life.   My life in review reveals the truth.
  The person I have become was educated by life’s good, bad
  and  ugly.   The changes, places,  and experiences all have combined
  to provide the background for the formation of a life.  The
  meandering is the spice.  Sometimes it is hot as a jalepano
  pepper.  Other times it is a lot of crushed ice.  There are times
  it is a dragster reaching the quarter mile posts. There are times
  when I have been wrong, wrong, wrong,  and have had to humbly
  apologize and change direction.  On other occasions the trail
  is straight and narrow.  In all of the meandering there was
  something to learn each day.  Sometimes too much to learn.
  I have learned to laugh at my foibles and be humble in life.

It Could Be Me

• I have seen a bit of our nations capital Washington DC.
  The magnificent edifices, art galleries, restaurants
  Hmmm - mmm - mmm good.
• The monuments Lincoln, Jefferson, Roosevelt, Korean
  War, Vietnam, and the Women’s Vietnam War Memorial.
• I have seen the White House
  White and small
  Surrounded by fences and guards.
• I have seen the homeless,
  The disenfranchised, and
  The forgotten.
• I have seen and grown wiser.
  Humanity is fragile.
  It could be me lost and alone.

Originally written: October 30, 1998

Society builds beautiful buildings and monuments.  Yet,
amongst the beauty there is squalor and homelessness.
I believe the veneer of society is growing thinner with
any increase in the homelessness and hopelessness of
its citizens.   When a society creates a permanent group
of its populace in a hopeless environment it has created a
hotbed of  the dissatisfied. Hopelessness and dissatisfaction
are the ingredients to ferment rebellion and chaos.

Today, I am saddened by the thousands of families
that have lost their homes to the greed of mortgage
providers.  I have witnessed the loss of jobs and the
breaking down of marriages as a result of the anxiety and
stress of putting food on the table and caring for the
well-being of their family.

Today, I am one of the lucky ones who has no worries
about income in the foreseeable future.  Yet, I and my
family could be next.  Yet,  I believe I have seen hopeful
signs the economy is slowly recovering.   I have observed
small businesses where their workload is increasing
slightly.  They are gradually backing away from layoffs,
bankruptcy and closing down.   In small ways a few new
hires are appearing in the workplace.   The finances have
seemed to be improving. 

It will be a long time to full recovery.   It took a long time
to see the improvements after the worlds Great Depression.
It will take as long or longer to recover from what I would
call the “Great Recession and Finance Debacle.”  It will be
an interesting time.  Will the recovery speed be sufficient
enough to prevent chaos and rebellion?

Anticipation

• Anticipation of a kiss.
  • Brings wonderous pleasure.
  • Enjoy the moments of suspense.
  • It heightens the pleasure,
  • Of the gift once received and given.
• Anticipation of a dark moment.
  • Brings exquisite anxiety.
  • Relax and be present,
  • In the moment of suspense.
  • It prepares you
  • For the trauma to come.
• Anticipation, ah-h the sweetness.
  • It is the spice of life.
  • It is the variety between moments.
  • Without variety it is doubtful
  • We would recognize happiness or despair.

 

Originally written: October 30, 1998

• I like this small piece of prose.   I am one of those people
  that has agonized over anticipation of both dark moments
  and the possibility of a kiss, both giving and receiving.
• I have found that relaxing even in the anticipation of a
  dire or crisis is an important way to reserve my strength
  and focus for that moment. 

Words Spoken

• Words spoken one to another,
  • Stranger to stranger,
  • Worker to worker,
  • Friend to friend,
  • Loved to beloved,
  • Bride to groom,
  • Husband to wife
  • And so many more.
• Words are the bearer
  • Of greetings,
  • Of anger,
  • Of sharings,
  • Of adoration,
  • Of commitment
  • And so much more.
• One to another,
  • Uncaring to caring,
  • Caring to uncaring,
  • Caring to caring.

 

Originally written:  October 10, 1998

• Words spoken carry a weight.   A weight it has taken years and maturity
  to start to understand. We learn to speak early in life.   We use the words
  and expressions of those we immitate sometimes not understanding the
  impact of some of the words.   We begin to learn as we delight our
  parents, siblings, and relatives.   In Tweens and teen years we learn the
  impact on friends, non-friends, and those we desire love from.  Years of
  joy and hurt mount along with experience in use and misuse of words. 
  Some take the path of deception and spend the rest of their lives deceiving
  themselves and others.  They may even come to believe in their lies.   This
  path always ends in loneliness and pain.   Others take the middle road and
  spend their lives slipping back and forth mixing truth, omission, and fibs
  stealing happiness and finding sorrow when the deceptions are found out.
• Then, there are those who live their live caring what words mean and their
  impact on others and ultimately to themselves.  They are sensitive as they
  mature learning the use and misuse of words. They apologize for the
  unintended hurts and the agony brands the memory of the use of those
  words. Their lives have pain and happiness mixed in measure providing a
  balance.  They learn the affect of words.   Their life is a continuum of
  learning. 
• At the last breath of this life is the profound knowledge words are the basic
  communication between humans.  A life spent perfecting their use is a life
  well spent.