Trapped in the marble of your history

I would like to write words that lift a reader’s day, perhaps help a heart heal, a body heal, the soul too. Let’s not leave the soul out. Absent that and you’ve removed oxygen from the air.

If you’ve lost sight of, or never knew, the extraordinary value of the life that is you, I can promise you, it’s there.  Michelangelo (1474-1564), the Italian sculptor, painter and architect,  believed the masterpiece was already in the block of marble. His task was to keep carving so we could see it.  He once said: “I saw the angel in the marble and carved until I set him free.”

I believe each life is a masterpiece in its own right, right from the beginning. The thing is, life can be brutal and many of us have received some cruel and untrue! messages about who we are. Start the wounding early enough and the child has no reason to disbelieve what they are all too often told, they are the problem, and if only…. then they wouldn’t be. Rubbish. It’s not true.

The masterpiece that is you may be trapped in the marble of your history, but its there. Because you are not in touch with it doesn’t mean it’s not there. Promise.

The challenge is not one of becoming a valuable human being; it’s discovering you always have been a valuable human being.

 

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Trump wants to rule the world

People like Donald Trump, Vladimir Putin, and Kim Jong-un have one thing in common; they want to rule their country.  Each would jump at the chance to rule the world.

Trump has no interest in respecting the constitution and the sanctity of the three branches of government: the executive, the legislative, the judiciary. He also has no interest in displaying an iota of decency. Conflict of interest covers him like a fungus. He has daily shown the world his nastiness and petulance, bloviating verbal vomit by tweet or mouth by the hour. Maya Angelou was right: “When someone shows you who they are, believe them the first time.”

During a recent White House meeting  Trump publicly offered to “destroy the career” of a Texas state senator who was proposing legislation a sheriff disagreed with. “Who’s the state senator? Do you want to give his name? We’ll destroy his career,” Trump said.

It is time for Republicans and Democrats and Conservatives and Liberals and Independents and everyone else to put their differences aside and protect this country by removing this man from office.

 

Charles Darwin’s one big mistake

I am waiting for someone to write a piece about the researchers and scientists and scholars out of Oxford University and Harvard, I believe, who published a study in Princeton, New Jersey’s J. Yailbyrd Press, on January 13, Friday the 13th, 2017, confirming that while Darwin’s theory of evolution was right in the main, we are in fact descendants of an animal species, Darwin got the species wrong. We do not share a common ancestor with the great apes as previously thought, not even close. The study, with its reams of supporting empirical data,  revealed share a  common ancestor with the lemmings. Lemmings are stocky little rodents common to the Arctic tundra with a reputation for following those they were dopey enough to think leaders off of cliffs.

The authors of the study, Charles Darwin’s One Wrong Turn, say the mistake should not be seen as a mark against the great man. After all, they rightly point out, he did pave the way for everyone else.

The study involved 1,478 respondents: 739 male, 739 female, ages 18 to 21. Researchers said only males standing five-foot eight and females standing five-foot six were included in the study. Scientists said any ratio that might possibly apply to the very notion of a height difference, combined with a tripling of ambidextrous molecules in the red blood cells believed to exist in the bloodstreams of every respondent, made the implementation of height restrictions critically important to the studies success, to the tenth power. The equation’s final outcome, as it were.

Experts acknowledge these are perilous findings from a sociological perspective. But, on the other hand, the nation’s mental health system is rejoicing.   Mental health professionals from around the country say the study has answered a lot of questions and solved a lot of mysteries. As a result, their work is both a lot easier, and, clinically, a lot more necessary.

Trump is loony

Being a narcissist would be a positive step on the road to mental health for Donald J. Trump. Judging by the press conference he held today, that highway’s a ton of miles long and this bully can’t even find the on ramp. The man is a loon, a whack-job, and, I think he is a danger, not just to my country, but to the world.

I am watching the first press conference Trump has held since July and  off his rocker.  “I will be the greatest jobs president that God has ever created,” he declared, with so much bluster I thought he was going to puff three times out loud.  And then came Trump attorney Sheri Dillon’s effort to comfort those in attendance by reminding them  “Trump can’t un-know he owns Trump Tower.” Phew! I hadn’t realized.

Trump just said: “I have many meetings with intelligence.” Clearly a lie. They’ve never met.

 

Beware the sappatized word

It can be a lot of work getting here to this blank page. It was climbing a mountain of anxiety under the power of thought, and, okay, strength. I’m not comfortable with the word courage. I mean, yes, perhaps in a pure sense it applies, but for me the word courage has a boastful connotation, and I am not comfortable with that. So I respectfully reject it.

We fuck words up, stain them with the one-two punch of judgment and connotation. Sometimes we inject them so many times with some inexplicable insidous honey-like ethereal substance, we sappitize them. Sappy, holy shit! Like fingernails on a chalkboard.

Sappiness makes me want to flee.

I’ll give you an example of a word that’s been sappitized. Darling. Darling is a beautiful word. It derives, in part, from the word, dear, defined in the New Oxford English Dictionary as, “regarded with deep affection; cherished by someone: a dear friend.” Come to think of it, in some ways dear too has been sappitized. Let me put it this way, if a woman said to me, “Kiss me, dear,” I was born knowing tongues are not involved. I think full-contact kissing is impossible in response to, “Kiss me, dear.”

I am wrong.

Just now — in the writing moment — I realized I was dead wrong.

I have experienced being deeply in love. Our beings were in as perfect alignment as two beings could be. If she had said, “Kiss me dear,” perhaps during one of those sweet-gentle holding each other moments, I would’ve kissed her in a heartbeat — with all my heart and soul.

Stunning what emerges when you write.