Z = Zone

The new or more recent way to aid people is to create a zone.  We have parking zones to keep us from creating chaos with our vehicles.  It works, for the most part.  Then there is always that one individual who parks in their own private interpretation of their zone.  Oh, well.  We also have zones where we are warned not to trespass due to danger of one sort or another.  Then there are quiet zones, such as in libraries and hospitals.

But these do not stand out, and are standardly accepted until some individuals see certain zones that they find offensive.

The zones I speak of now are safe zones.  Safe zones are established to protect people, offer sanctuary.  Who and why are safe zones offered?  First the “who” offering these safe places.  The “who” people are trained to offer sanctuary and respite without judgement  or bias.  They are people who actually care about other people and their safety and mental and physical well-being.

Second, the “why” of safe zones.  Personally, before I retired from teaching at CSUB, a memo was sent out that those who wished, could receive training in offering safe zones and then have stickers and posters to post on their individual doors, signifying they were a safe zone.  But that doesn’t tell you “why,” does it?  The “why” is a sad revelation.  It was because people were being harassed because of their sexual orientation, mainly.  But there were less obvious reasons for needing a safe zone.  It consisted of students and those threatened and harassed for being Different.  And who objected?  Those who wanted to bully, demean, even attack the people they deemed Different.

This is such an affront to our culture on so many levels.  Here we were, on a campus of higher learning, having to offer safe zones for being Different!  College and University campuses once offered education so that 

Different ideas, different philosophies, different viewpoints and lifestyles could be accommodated, explored, discussed, understood.  Some parents chose to steer their young people away from campuses known to foster critical thinking, opposing ideas, freedom of thought because they were afraid of what their potential “student” might learn—to THINK FOR THEMSELVES!  And now?  The appalling fact is now that these campuses of ‘higher learning” are simply one more institution where those who dare to think critically, dare to question, dare to put forth ideas opposed to the general populace are threatened!  Sadly, often the ones who are to teach them to think either join the prescribed mode of thinking that should be allowed and ignore or shut down that which is “inappropriate” or “unacceptable.”  So the “why” of safe zones is monumental in its implications and the depths it reaches into our society in general.  It should also be noted that some faculty and staff who offered safe zones for those Different people/students, knew they would also receive subtle signs that their very act of helping or aiding the Different would put some of them on the fringes with their peers.

It is so very heartbreaking that the prejudice and bias of ignorance requires safe zones for what I would deem “Free-thinkers” and people brave enough to not fall under the societal pressure to conform.  If enough people who claim the United States pledges …Liberty and freedom for all…

would stop mouthing it and start showing it in actions towards their fellow persons,  there would be no need for safe zones.  Churches USED TO OFFER SANCTUARY, but they got caught up in dogma and hell fire ideologies.

This is the last blog of the challenge.  This is my last chance to speak my heart.  We won’t need safe zones if we see people—not color, lifestyle, sex, or whatever the determining factors are that separate us into Us vs Them.  Maybe we should foster that human goodness that says, “I will treat you as I want to be treated—with respect and the idea you have as much right to your life choices as I do.  We will not harm each other as we both know we will suffer on all sides for that.”  We have to get past hate and disparagement because of outside factors.  See the person, hear the person, know the person.  Then decide whether you want them in your life.  Walk away, without harm or hate if you want to.  Or pull them closer.  But don’t look and judge without the knowing.

Until the hate and judgement cease, more and more of us will have to seek out safe zones.  It is not something I care to do for what years I have left on this planet.  I hope there are others who share this feeling so we can exude vibrations of Safe Zone to those we meet and deal with.

Thank you.

PEACE

Y = Yeats, W. B.

Sometimes, a poet whose words linger long past their mortal lives, speaks to us with profound insight and we realize that many things, including the hearts of men and their actions transverse the years and that it is so very true that “history repeats itself.”  

THE SECOND COMING

Turning and turning in the widening gyre

The falcon cannot hear the falconer;

Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;

Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,

The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere

The ceremony of innocence is drowned;

The best lack all conviction, while the worst

Are full of passionate intensity.

Surely some revelation is at hand;

Surely the Second Coming is at hand.

The Second Coming! Hardly are those words out

When a vast image of Spiritus Mundi

Troubles my sight: somewhere in sands of the desert

A shape with lion body and the head of a man,

A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun,

Is moving its slow thighs, while all about it

Reel shadows of the indignant desert birds.

The darkness drops again; but now I know

That twenty centuries of stony sleep

Were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle,

And what rough beast, its hour come round at last,

Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?

W.B. Yeats  (1919, 1921)

There it is.  Words of life almost a hundred years ago, read today, meaningful today.  Remember?  WORDS ARE POWERFUL!

X = XXX

Well, there you have it—X marks the spot!  So what does triple X mark?  Three spots?  Or how about we X something out?  yeah, just X that sucker out.

Place an X in the correct box.  Mark your choice with an X.  Look for the X to forbid something—rat poison, nuclear waste barrels, drinking Liquid Plummer—you know, the things you always wanted to try but were afraid to?

Poor X.  X has really gotten a bum rap.  But…X does get the great signs by the railroad tracks!  Gotta love those!  EVERYBODY knows those signs!

Okay—so triple XXX refers to porn or stuff only the very brave will go for in watching on TV or whatever.  And why do we say “Brave?”  Because if you get caught watching that stuff you will not walk away without some repercussions.  Personally, one X is as far as I have ever gone and that was to see an X rated movie that I got sick during and hurled pizza and coke all over the theater so I would have to eat at a buffet to stomach a XXX movie.  But, seeing as how it was not one of my more pleasant memories, I think I’ll pass.

One time, we passed an adult movie store with one of the kids and the comment was made, “Oh, Look!  Little fences!  What kind of animals are in that store, Mom?”  Do you dare to conjecture here what the answer was?

Obviously, I was stuck for an X word to blog about, so I will stop here and say that I personally believe X gets a bad rap generally and the only good Xs are the ones attached to those fantastic X-men and the super fantastic mutants!  Always felt an affinity with mutants, anyway.  

Later.

W = Wrestle

Wrestling isn’t just an amusement or athletic event.  Wrestling is something that goes on daily within everyone alive.  You wrestle with your anger, your frustration, your choices to be made, your innermost self and sense of values.

Some get so exhausted from wrestling that they try to numb out or find an escape.  They can hide behind numerous tasks to be done, behind a shield they fear to let down so that others will see them as they are, behind anger.  And if they choose to acknowledge this wrestling match going on inside, they usually must bear it alone and do the best they can with what they know and have learned.  Unfortunately, it is a one on one battle that is won or lost in the mind and heart.

The wrestling match can become one over good vs evil and the individual’s role in advancing or stopping one or the other.  It can be a project that needs to be accomplished with unfamiliar territory looming ahead and a lack of faith in oneself to be able to do it.  Then it is a matter of does one forge ahead because effort is worth something in itself or cower at the enormity of said project and all it entails.

The wrestling match can be over truths, opinions on truths, perceptions of truths.  Chasms can occur in relationships, even in careers as differences arise to be wrestled with.

However, isn’t the most devastating and yet monumental wrestling match the one that has to do with being true to oneself?  Once you cross the line and betray your own beliefs, tenets, very essence that makes you you, the ensuing wrestling match can make or break you.  And worse, if you care about others and their feelings and opinions, the match certainly has no guaranteed outcome.

By realizing each person is engaged in their own wrestling match, our words should reflect our empathy, not disdain and disregard.  Who knows?  Maybe aiding someone in their inner wrestling match will help us resolve our own.  I’s definitely something worth considering, isn’t it?

V = Vote

Ever heard “I don’t vote because my vote doesn’t count anyway” said when asked to register to vote or to cast a ballot?  If you haven’t, you probably have not asked someone to vote for a particular issue or person.  However, this excuse/reason is heard over and over.

Let me say, right to the point, Voting is a privilege that many right here in the United States do not have.  Many things are done to make voting unavailable to certain populations, certain parties, certain races.  This makes it even more important that those who can vote do so.  Your vote has to speak for you and for those who share your beliefs and values when they cannot speak for themselves.

I will not presume to sway you to vote one way or another or for one political party or another.  I simply beg you to exercise your right to vote and to do so without fail.  When we do not vote, we give up the right to speak about laws, enactments, heads of the government, Congress, our representatives, our city council people, everyone elected to an office.  Our not voting implies consent  to what anyone elected does.  Worse, not voting relates to an apathy that says, “Who cares?”

Please VOTE!  Show you care, you want to help create and enact laws and governance that is fair to all.  

VOTE AND LET YOUR VOICE BE HEARD!

EVERY VOTE COUNTS

U = Understanding

We all want to understand things—the world around us, the “whys” of different behaviors, but especially ourselves.  When we don’t understand something, we rationalize our way out of our dilemma with phrases like:

“No one understands everything!”

“Some people/things defy understanding.”

“Not everything is able to be understood.  Some things just have to be accepted.”

Or the infamous—“It is what it is.”

Yep.  When we are having trouble grasping something and it throws us into a regular frustrated tizzy, we take the defensive position or try to shrug it off.  The following is a true example. 

Our Black Literature instructor told us to pick a hate group to write a paper on for our final college term project.  We had to research, show the pros and cons of the ideology of said group, and offer a valid argument for or against the group.  No one in the class was too keen on this, so he proceeded to assign a hate group to each of us since we avoided picking our own.  I was assigned the KKK.  I was appalled.  Cons about the group?  No problem.  Pros?  He had to be kidding!  I left class stunned.  After the initial shock, I started digging for other topics so I could get out of researching the KKK.  The next class, I presented him with my list of topics, i.e.., slaver owners, presidential slave owners, southern racists.  He smiled at me and said, “Sorry.  You are assigned the KKK.  And I suggest you get started since it is due in three weeks.  Remember, 15-20 pages with bibliography and works cited.  Later.”  I stayed, begging to not have to do it and pleading my case.  He listened patiently and said, “I hear that you hate them as a hate group.  I hear all your arguments against writing it.  So I ask you, don’t you want to fight them? Their ideology?”  I adamantly gave him a resounding “YES!”  He leaned back in his chair, seemingly amused, and said, “You’ll never adequately stand against or fight something you do not understand.  Once you understand, you know HOW to fight, where the soft spots are, where the fallacies lie.  You want to see them go under?  Understand where they are coming from and show them they are wrong.  You can’t defeat an enemy you know nothing about except they anger you and you want them gone.  Got it?”  I threw in one last plea and he shook his head no.

Well, though I hated what I was doing, I wrote that paper, meeting all his requirements.  He, my teacher, was a wise and knowing man.  The more research I did, the more I began to understand the ideology of the KKK, the more intelligent and heartfelt arguments I could present against them.  AND I could see where their refusal to try to understand their faulty logic left them as nothing but an empty shell of hate with little hope.  In a much larger sense, I saw that to understand was its own empowerment.  Like I said, true story.

But then something came into my life where I couldn’t understand and realized I didn’t want to even try to understand.  It had to do with a child molester.  Advice was given to try to understand what motivated a child molester.  My mind threw up a block simultaneously with my heart.  No part of me wanted to understand what pain and grief the child molester caused because of background or personal quirkiness or even biological bent toward molesting children.  I didn’t care about it being projected blame or revenge or a power struggle the molester was going through.  At that point, understanding was simply a word with no meaning.

Conclusion?  It is a truth that some things can be understood and that we can better work with or against them through that.  It is also true that we can be so overwhelmed with pain caused by others that we no longer care to know the whys, the instigating reasons, or experiences.  We simply want it to cease to be, to exist in any form.  In some respects, this, too, can be good.  It creates a system of right vs wrong with right striving against wrong.  But understanding has a long term effect on the one trying to learn and the one who is striving to be understood.

We each have our own limitations, our own barriers, and our own goals to reach with our fellow persons…how far will we reach beyond ourselves to understand?  I will always respect, admire and even love that teacher who forced me to understand.  It has helped me in the current state of our country.  Some things I still have no desire to understand as I rail against them.  But people change, enlightenment happens.  I do believe that it is through understanding that our world and its people and animals can be saved, as well as our earth.

I’ll try.  And I hope you will, too.

T = Trust

Trust is something that is truly personal as an abstract concept.  It is often linked with words like faith, respect, even love.  But TRUST is something that has to be acquired, much like its accompanying words.  

We want our friends and our families to trust us.  It is often something we teach our children, especially as they begin to be more independent in the tween to teen years.  We stress we need to be able to trust them to allow more privileges, more advantages appropriate to their ages.  And if, say, the curfew was midnight, and they wander in at one in the morning, the first words are often, “How can you expect me to trust you now?” to the wayward curfew breaker.  Dilemma time.

Another example would be the wayward spouse, caught in an extra-marital affair.  Suspicions usually are a precursor to the offender being caught, breaking down trust incrementally, if not completely before the “last blow.”

Those are both trust breakers.  So what are trust builders?  Examples of trust builders are one person telling another they will meet with them on a certain date at a certain time and showing up.  That starts the trust ball rolling.  It continues as things that are not of great importance being shared and not being gossiped about with others.  Then the sharing becomes more personal, braver, and still it stays between the two persons.  Trust becomes something important and binding.  It becomes personal and creates an atmosphere of acceptance and belonging.

Trust also encompasses truth and respect.  The faith in the trust that you will not be lied to nor “played.”  Once lies are told, it erodes trust to the point that sometimes it cannot be regained.  If we cannot trust because of lies, we will not respect the liar.  So what happens then?  One is less likely to trust again, to even try to trust again.  So much is lost and to be grieved.

But trust maintained is the greatest gift known because it does create faith, respect, and a deep and lasting love.  It allows the freedom of saying what is on the heart, of being your true self, of knowing that you are accepted, loved, and matter.  Trust says that though you may fail, someone trusts you enough to believe in you to eventually make it.  It says that you have backing, help to accomplish your goals and dreams.  It says there is not an expiration date on caring, believing, backing.  Trust lets the love remain after the person is no longer there that you trust.  It is that abstract feeling and inspiration that keeps you going.  You shared, you loved, you respected, you trusted and it was returned.  

TRUST is an earned gift.  It is a treasure that you hold tightly.  Once you trust, like love, it can never be taken from you, only broken.  Keep it safe, use it wisely, cherish the person who earns it.  It is your gift to them.

S = Shhhhhh

Did you hear that?   Shhhh.  Listen.  There is the traffic from the freeway.  It kind of whirs, doesn’t it?  Whoosh!  Whoosh!  Hear the trucks?  They rumble.  The cars whir, though.  Now, focus on the closer sounds.   

Shhhh.  There’s a leaf falling.  It’s not autumn, the season of leaves falling.  And the leaf makes a sharp sound, falling and hitting the hard ground.  You push it with your foot.  It scrapes.  The leaf is hard.  Is it hard from the heat?  Baked?

A screen door makes a huffing sound as it catches on the way to closing and then clank—it shuts and catches.  You try to narrow your listening skills and sure enough, you hear an inner door shut behind the screen door and the lock turn.  

Focusing again, you stand perfectly still and realize the sounds are less sharp as the sun sets slowly.  It becomes dusk and you hear a buzzing sound—some kind of bug that prefers the evening time.  Then a new buzz.  Lamp posts are emitting a barely audible buzz of their own as they slowly let their light shimmer awkwardly and then light up strong.

Now you can hear sounds of movement, soft and subtle.  A cupboard door closing.  A pan shifting on a stove.  The muted sound of running water.  

You turn to enter your own home and you stop as you realize now you can hear your own feet on the walkway.  You take another step and hear your footfall.  Then the jarring wail of a siren.  It stabs the quiet you were enjoying.  You remain standing in the same spot, unmoving, waiting for the siren to fade.  Slowly it gets farther and farther away, quiet returns.  You step slowly, listening to the grit on your feet on the walkway meet.

You push the button on your screen door and it scrapes, metal on metal.  As you pull the door toward you, it cries in objection.  Then it is quiet.  Sara’s nails click on the wood floor as she brushes past into the house.  The door makes a clicking sound as it engages with the door jamb to close and then another click as you turn the dead bolt.

Sara sniffs, nails still clicking on the floor, as she lets you know she wants a treat.  You hear the bag crackle as you get her a treat from it.  You hear her heavy breathing of excitement.  You laugh.  Quiet time, listening closely time is done.  

It was …  Grounding.  Focused.  Calming.  Serenity within and without.  Shhhhh  

R = Raze

I love words that make me pause before I use them!  I almost get excited over using them appropriately.  RAZE  is one of those words that I love and savor using because it defies the definition I learned originally that sounds the same but means the opposite.  Come on grammarians—what is the term for that?  Think!

The little boy sits down to dinner with his family and grinning, excited, announces, “My friend told me they’re going to ‘raze’ the barn next farm over tomorrow morning.  Can I go watch?  Please?  Maybe help?”

His father smiles as if to himself while dishing up some peas.  “Help?  How do you think you’d be able to help?” he asks quietly.

“I could bring lumber to the men putting it up!  I could help keep them supplied with nails.  I’d be a real part of the whole thing!” the little boy exclaims.

“I don’t think you know what is going to happen,” the father says, still smiling.  “They aren’t going to raise Mr. Jenkins barn, they’re going to raze it.”

“I know!  I know!  I want to help!” the little boy insists, still trying to get approval for his adventure, not hearing his father’s words completely.

The mother looks at the her husband and he acknowledges the look as he turns from her back to the boy.  “Sure,” he says.  “Get your chores done around here and go on over.  I hope you have fun and learn something.”

“Oh, thank you!  I will!  I’ll tell you all about it!  I can’t wait!  I’m going to get to bed early so I can get up and get my stuff done and get over there right off!  Thanks again!” he says as he eats hurriedly to start his part in the adventure.  And the father smiles at the mother as she smiles at the boy.

The next morning, the boy gets up while it is still dark and runs from animal to animal, feeding each and making sure they have water.  He sweats as he scoops up horse apples into the wheelbarrow and runs it to the manure pile to empty it.  Then he puts away hay fork, shovel, rake, watering buckets, chicken feed, rabbit feed, gathers eggs from disgruntled hens, and as the sun rises, finishes all chores.  He sits down for breakfast, mumbles yes to the list of chores his father asks if he’s accomplished around mouthfuls of food, and gulps down his milk.  His father says, “Be sure you take your dishes to the sink and then you can go.  Have a good day.”

The boy bolts to the kitchen with his dishes and says good-bye as the screen door slams behind him.  The father shakes his head, smiling.

The boy meets his friend as they watch the men gather to ‘raze’ the barn.  They whisper to each other how they plan to help without getting in the way, and build the new barn.  But they become confused as they watch men working with ropes around the old barn’s base.  Finally, one boy walks up to the workmen, and asks, “Aren’t you going to raise the new barn?  What are you doing here at the old one?” 

The workman closest stops, looks at the young observer and states, “We’re getting ready to raze the old barn first.  Then we’ll raise the new one.”  He turns back to his work and the one boy walks back to his friend and looking totally confused, repeats what he was told.

“What?  That’s crazy!  You can’t raise an old barn!”  

“That’s what he said.  Honest truth!”

Incredulous over what has been said, they sit down and settle in to watch.  They watch the men tie the ropes at the base of the old barn, attach them to harnesses on the waiting horses’ huge yokes, and then command the horses to pull forward against the strain of the ropes attached to the barn.  The boys shake their heads.  They had never seen a barn raised this way.  With strategically placed ropes, horses obeying on command, slowly but surely, the old barn is razed.  When it is totally taken down, old lumber lying on the ground, a workman motions towards the boys and waves them over.  They quickly run to the site, and hear the workman ask, “You boys want to help finish razing the barn?”  

Still confused, but wanting to be a part of the work, they nod yes and are directed to piles of wood to be sorted and picked up and placed in new piles of lumber that can be re-used and that which will be hauled off for either other projects or fire wood come winter.  The boys work diligently, trying to make themselves invaluable helpers until nothing remains of the old barn.  The workman invites them to sit with him and the others for some lemonade and to take a short rest.

“You boys really did some good work,” one of the men comments.  The boys smile at the man, proud, and then at each other.  The boy who was so excited the night before to help asked, “Can I ask you something, sir?” of the workman that praised them.  The workman nods and the boy says, “We thought we were coming to a barn raising and instead, you tore the old barn down.  We don’t get it.  I mean, we were glad to help and all, but we thought we’d get to help build a barn, not tear it down.”

All of the men laughed.  “We did raze the barn, boys.  Tomorrow morning, we will raise the new one,” the one man  said and they all laughed again.  The boys faces turned red because they still did not understand but were embarrassed by their ignorance.  The eldest of the workmen, a graying man, slightly bent from years of heavy work, said, “  You raze, r-a-z-e, something by tearing it down completely.  You raise, r-a-i-s-e, something by creating and building it up.  Get it?”  The boys looked at each other and then at the man, wondering about what they had just been told.  The old man, seeing they were still confused, said, “This morning you helped raze the old barn so that tomorrow, we can raise the new one.  Okay?”

The wheels of their brains started to turn as the boys tried to understand.  Slowly, they understood that what they had always thought they learned correctly could be a word sounding  the same but have two totally different meanings.  Their faces lost the redness and they felt as if they had actually gone through a rite of passage into the world of working men.  They laughed, this time with the men, as they were now a part of the group.  They were invited back to the barn-raising to follow the next day, thanked again by the group of men for their work and left, feeling older and wiser.

That night, at the supper table, the father asked the boy about his day.  The boy said, “Well, I learned you can r-a-z-e  a barn and you can 

r-a-i-s-e a barn.  I just wish I had listened better to you last night.”  The father just smiled, and the boy smiled back.

Yes, I do love words that play in my mind like raze.  The word makes me stop, think, use it carefully and in the right context. It is not a throw-away word.  It is so unique and I truly love it and using it—a rare gem of a word.

Heh heh—a homonym 

Q = QUIT

We wake up wanting to QUIT  every day.  Our stomach churns, having wakened us with its cramping and fiery demands.  We hurry to the bathroom and sadly and gloomily wonder how long it will last today.  We have Jeff’s job, things to do, Sara to walk and care for—how long today?

We look at the clock.  4:10 am.  We are so tired.  We can see Sara sound asleep on the bed and we so want to rejoin her!  But instead, we doze in the bathroom.  The fire and cramping abate and we stumble back to the bed.  We lie on our left side.  We read somewhere that being on one’s left side allows inner organs to relax naturally.  Sara rouses to snuggle against our sore body.  We think, hope…maybe that bout was it.  We allow ourselves to relax more.  Our gut responds with, “Not Yet!  Get Up!”  Back to the bathroom.  Once more, in the bathroom we doze, but not so long.  We refuse to look at the clock.  The words—“Just Quit.  QUIT all this”— bounce from head to heart.  Back to bed.

Now we are too roused to relax.  The words, thoughts start.  Should we turn on the news?  See what has happened in the last four to six hours?  No!  We aren’t ready to be torn apart by overwhelming sadness, anger, frustration, anxiety.  “Just QUIT.”

We get up.  Now, we glance at the at the clock.  5:24 am.  Okay—a decent hour.  Lots of “normies” start their day this early.  We feed Sara, who has even now, simply shifted positions again, remaining on the bed.  Well, we note, the food is there when she wants it.  We go get the paper, cup of nuked coffee in our hand.  We smoke part of a cigarette, then take the paper inside.

Sara emerges, stretches, and we take her out.  She takes care of business and comes back in to see if we put food in her bowl.  Seeing it, she comes and hops into our lap for petting and kisses.  She loves us, needs us.  Maybe we shouldn’t QUIT.

We give in and turn on the news.  Oh my god.  Not an exclamation—just a sigh—not of resignation but despair.  We scan the headlines in the newspaper and the word “QUIT” prevails again.  Our stomach and gut cramp.  Here we go—it isn’t over yet.

Shower.  Dress.  There’s the bed and it calls us.  But so does Sara as she follows us.  It’s almost time for Jeff to go to work.  Quit?  Not Jeffy.  He’ll never QUIT.  He loves his work.  He works his shift, smiling, chattering, making people laugh as he waits on them.  Then it’s over and we come home.

Having been productive, somewhat, we don’t wish to QUIT.  We want to be with Sara, write our poems, listen to our music, paint, watch the Muppets.  Tomorrow maybe we won’t wake up wanting to QUIT.  Life changes continuously.  Things happen that are good to wake up to.  QUIT?

Just wait and see.  Isn’t it true?

This too shall pass.

P = Peace

If every reader of this blog were asked to say what PEACE means to them, there would be many, many answers.  PEACE is as individual a concept as any abstract one can conceive of.  So we will share what our concept of Peace is.

Peace is a place without fear and anxiety.  Sometimes it can be a quiet forest, with only the sounds of nature present.  Wind soughing through trees, skitters of small animals on a bed of pine needles, a branch of a tree creaking with age.  Or it can be toes touching the ocean waves as they slide in, foamy and cold.  It can be watching little bugs scurry on a hot sidewalk, seeking what they can see and we cannot.

Peace can be listening to music that transports us to another realm with its sounds and maybe words.  It can be taking paints and mixing them to create a color that pleases our souls and then is applied to paper or canvas.  It can be writing down what we feel or want to feel.

Peace can be complete silence or being pummeled by noise that is greater than that within us.  Peace.  Elusive, sought after, a goal that means absence of strife, violence, hatred.  Peace is seeing souls— not color, religion, sexual orientation, wealth or lack of wealth, social status, attire, or affiliation with one group or another.

To our way of thinking, peace, ultimately, is a presence that only resides within us.  It can exist regardless of the outside world.  It can be maintained in any adverse circumstances or events.  It is not “driven” but rather exists as a state of heart.  It can surpass and rise above all else.  It helps people bond heart to heart, soul to soul.  It is a unifying of spirits that wishes only good toward all.

Peace means to us—we will not hate you.  We will not judge you.  We will not wish evil on you.  We will not harm nor kill you.  It means we have hope for a better world.  It means we will say no to destructive behaviors, confident that the peace we feel can be felt by all if allowed.  It means we share it, not share revenge and pettiness.

Peace is not allowing ourselves to be bullied into group thinking, but rather finding our own path and taking our own journey without forcing others to adhere to our beliefs or way of thinking.

Ultimately, PEACE, to us, is saying we can be comfortable with ourselves and others need to be comfortable with themselves.  Then, we will respect each other, connect with each other, and yes, the world in its entirety will have no need to kill, destroy, or harm.  When there is peace within, it fosters peace without.

Peace to all.

O = Obvious

I would be willing to bet that what is obvious to us is not necessarily obvious to you.  Nor any other particular person.  But everyone knows that and because of it, we establish laws, regulations, rules to make it obvious what should be done, what consequences will follow certain actions, and steer us away from chaos and anarchy in our society, our cities, our families.  Right?  Some people will call them “norms,” or “appropriate” actions and to a degree, we try to fit in.  However, these things change as we humans try to better our conditions, environment, and adapt to change. Therein lies the Obvious problem/dilemma.

Right here, right now, this blog can go one of two ways—either sarcasm and satire with humor, or a deep look at the not so funny or humorous state of our national attitudes and what is happening that is so obvious to some and definitely not to others.  So which way to go?

IF we go with an intense look at where our nation is heading, we sense frustration and futility.  We see two definite divisions classified as either Red vs Blue, liberal vs conservative, and then it breaks down into truth vs lies and where the issue of what is obvious becomes tribal and exclusive.  In the microcosm of the family unit we see this division and break down into obviously right vs obviously wrong.  Anyone who has ever tried to argue with a toddler knows this.  What is it Dante wrote about the gates of hell?  Abandon all hope you who enter here?  That pretty much sums up my feelings on what I feel is obviously happening in our society and every thing it touches, including each individual.  To us it is obvious that the current state of affairs threatens our whole country in every way, and to others—well, it is not.

IF  we choose sarcasm and satire laced with some pretty dark humor, it is more pleasant to expound on without getting quite so damned depressed over the whole thing.   And we do sincerely believe humor and laughter are sanity savers.  It would also foster some hope that things can change and enlightenment can take place somewhere, somehow.

So which way to go?  Hmmmmm.  Let’s look at an adult arguing, or attempting to argue with a toddler.  Here’s the scenario.  Johnny is sitting playing with his action doll, contented, happy.  He is not forced to share with older siblings because he’s the “baby.”  Besides, the older kids don’t want his slobbered on toy anyway.  Mom is happy.  Johnny is happy.  The older kids are happy.  Dad comes home to a quiet and congenial house and everyone smiles a lot.  Then there’s a knock on the door.  Oh, wow!  Look who has come to visit!  It’s Aunt Kathy and her toddler.  Wonderful!  The two toddlers can play together and the adults can visit and the older kids can do whatever it is they do when another toddler comes into the house and that is to instinctively disappear, knowing one toddler is controllable, two less so.

Johnny eyeballs his cousin, appearing to clutch his little doll closer.  Cousin Jimmy sees the doll immediately and eye contact is made between the two.  Johnny gets up from where he was sitting, and toddles off toward the parent of choice.  Jimmy, silent but determined, follows.  The adults are oblivious to the brewing storm.  Johnny stands close to his father, in an obviously defensive posture.  Jimmy stands less than a foot away, edging forward, eyes darting between Johnny’s eyes and the doll in Johnny’s hand up by his chest.  The adults keep talking.  An outside observer sees that Jimmy obviously wants the doll and Johnny obviously is aware of that want.

Suddenly, Jimmy steps forward, both hands reaching for Johnny’s doll!  Johnny shrinks back and into his father’s knees.  The father suddenly pays attention and says to Johnny, “Why don’t you share your toy with Jimmy?” and nudges Johnny toward Jimmy while trying to extricate the toy from Johnny’s death grip on it.  Johnny screams, “NO!  MINE!” and Jimmy also screams as he lunges towards Johnny and gets his hands on the toy.  The mothers now start trying to reason with the screaming toddlers as the father tries to wrestle the toy away from four little hands clutching at it.  

The situation escalates as the mothers get louder and try to convince two toddlers to “share” and then the father booms out, “Either SHARE OR I WILL TAKE IT AWAY FROM BOTH OF YOU!”  One would think this would shock the toddlers enough to at least stop the screaming but instead, they only scream louder and have fallen to the floor to carry on their physical battle.  Words of “reason” are being screamed by adults, the two toddlers grapple for the toy, unhearing, when the father reaches in, grunts, and triumphantly stands, toy in hand.  He waves it over his head, the victor over the toddlers, and both kids start bawling and clawing at his pants leg to try to climb his frame to reach the toy.  The mothers each pick up a child to try to distract them from the toy as the father smiles and announces, “Well, I took care of THAT, now didn’t I?” and still victoriously holds the toy above everyone’s head.  At this point, it is obvious that all that was taken care of is the fact that no one has the toy except the father and no solution, resolution has been reached.  Johnny definitely did not grasp the concept of “sharing” nor did Jimmy realize he could not just take what he saw and wanted.  Wailing and temper tantrums continued by both toddlers until Jimmy’s mother finally picked him up and took him home.  Johnny got his toy back and learned that the fight was won by him as the adversary was now gone and he had what he wanted and what he felt was rightfully his.  Did anyone learn anything?  ANYONE?

Yes!  If you scream loud enough and long enough, you get what you want by forcing the intruder out.  No one wants to hear you pitch a fit, you refuse to listen or learn, and ultimately, you win.  Controls, parents, adults, cannot stop you!  YOU WILL GET WHAT YOU WANT!  And the parents say, “Well, at least the screaming stopped.  And he doesn’t understand, but he’ll grow up and get it.  He just needs time.  Anything is better than his fits of anger.”

The older kids return.  Johnny sees that one of them is holding a toy he is attracted to.  He grabs it and runs.  Chaos ensues as the older kid demands to have it back and yells for help from the parents.  Johnny is screaming and clutching once again.  The parents tell their older children to just put up with it.  Johnny will grow out of it.  And so Johnny takes what he wants, when he wants and it is obvious that no one is in control except—Johnny—who they hope will grow out of his insatiable appetite for taking what he wants regardless of who or what says he should not.

Ah, the world of toddlers.  Isn’t it rather obvious that Johnny is not going to stop what he is doing as long as there are no consequences for his selfish behavior?  Isn’t it obvious that as Johnny gets older and continues this behavior that something is awry?  Probably to everyone but Johnny—but obviously Johnny doesn’t care.  There are no “norms” or “appropriate” behaviors for Johnny.  No rules.  No laws.  Just watch Johnny and see the lengths others go to to keep him from throwing a screaming fit.  

Is it not obvious that Johnny needs to be taught through consequences?  Is it not obvious that the more Johnny careens through life, without control, the more the toddler, now growing up at least physically, is creating chaos?  Guess not.  But the obvious solution would be to teach Johnny, and remove his toys until he learns to share or not let him have any at all.  Obviously, if everyone followed Johnny’s behavior, no one and nothing would be safe from him if he desired it.  

And so it goes.  Toddlers.

N = No

Saying “no” sounds so simple.  “Do you want to go with me to the store?”  That is what is called a closed-ended question.  It only requires a simple “yes” or “no” answer.  So how many people say in response, “Well, I can’t because of…” or “I don’t think so because…”  or “Not this time because…” and not just say, “No”?  Isn’t that funny in a weird sort of way?  Definitely not a “ha ha” funny way!

It is my feeling that we are generally conditioned to not say NO without what is deemed to be a reasonable explanation.  It creeps up on us as we become older and trained or maybe even brainwashed into not saying NO.

We all laugh at the toddler that says “no” to every question asked.  They are exercising their right to choose and since no is such an easy word to say and elicits immediate responses, they say no to everything proposed.  Of course we trained adults or older ones try to trick them by asking questions that will get the response “no” and then throw in a question like, “Do you want a cookie?” and they quickly respond with the “no” and usually, just as quickly realize they just turned down a cookie and behold!  Training has begun!  Now, in life, it can go on for a few more years, but is no longer an automatic response and then we start the offerings of reasons for saying the word no.

One of the hardest decisions I ever made was based on faulty reasoning but I said no to what I truly wanted in order to not say no to the needs of a favorite aunt.  Let me explain.  My older cousin asked me to go to dinner and a movie with her (she could drive, I could not yet) but I was visiting my aunt at the time and staying with her on vacation.  I was afraid my aunt would be upset or disappointed if I didn’t spend my time with her, so I made an excuse and declined my cousin’s invitation.  My aunt, wise woman that she was, asked pointedly why I would want to spend a dull evening with her since she was going to bed early anyway, and pass up a chance at a movie and dinner with my cousin?  I offered a really lame excuse and upon having poor answers for my aunt, she asked again did I really and truly want to stay in a dark quiet house with her in her room asleep.  I blurted out, “NO—not really!”  Then she laughed, which shocked me, and said for me to call my cousin and tell her to pick me up.  I was 16 and well-trained to not say no to anyone without a plausible excuse.  And I didn’t want to hurt my Aunt’s feelings.  Now that was legitimate.  The rest?  Total bs.  Sound familiar at all?

I got older.  I would be asked to do things I didn’t want to do.  IF I didn’t want to, I would weigh the consequences of saying no depending on who had asked and their feelings, not my own.  Later, I found out this is a common malady as I would see advertisements for classes to teach people to say NO.  That same word that had been drummed out of us during toddler years was being brought back to us as adults.  Amazing!

I read books on saying NO.  I talked with people about saying NO.  I felt guilt over saying NO.  I got angry at myself for not saying NO.  And then the best advice I ever got came from a wise counselor—“Learn to say no with no explanation, no excuses, and empower yourself.”  Now, if you have never experienced just saying that one word and offering nothing else, you have to try it!  It is truly liberating!  I back-slid many, many times.  The best trials I had with it were the ones where I told persons I didn’t really care about “no.”  That sort of set me up to say NO to people I did care about.

I’d like to say it gets easier and I rarely offer excuses or reasonings behind my “nos” but that wouldn’t be telling the honest truth.  I still make excuses even as I realize no explanation is needed.  But I’ve been thoroughly and effectively brain-washed so I feel the need to explain the little word.  HOWEVER…there will be a day…

“Want to go…”      “No.”

“Want to…”       “No.” 

and then I will feel just as wonderful about…  “Want to…”   “YES!”

Give it a try.  NO?  Okay.  No pressure.  Just a thought…