The Domino Effect

For eighteen days the world watched as citizens took matters into their own hands in Egypt.  They wanted only what should be afforded every human being; the right to live a dignified life. Now we are watching the dominoes fall all over the Mideast and Northern Africa as others follow the template established in Egypt.

Those who live in what is known as the “free world” don’t always have an understanding of how others around the world live.  Visiting a third-world country can only give  a brief surface visual of how people live day-to-day.  Things that are taken for granted in many parts of the world are but a dream in these countries.  While many juggle two and tree smart phones there are millions who can’t even afford a land-line that could ultimately save their life.  There are many who sit within the comfort and protection of their locked doors while so many can’t even lock their door to the government who can go in at will and have what they desire.

A young man in Egypt had the notion to use modern technology in a way that no one had ever seen.  He began posting in a social network to gather Egyptians to rally and move in a peaceful demonstration to bring change in their country.  Eighteen days later, Mr. Mubarak resigned after a 30 year reign.   While there were those who took advantage of the movement to loot and wreak havoc, the ones rallying for change remained as peaceful as they could.  There are still many days to come that will be venturing into the unknown for the Egyptian’s, but they are on their way as long as they do not lose focus of why and how this all began.

Since this success there have been other countries following the same route; Libya, Yemen, Iran, and still other Arab countries.  These are not covered by the media as well as the Egyptian rally was covered, but it should by no means be swept under the carpet.  While it seems that many of these rallies are more violent it is difficult to tell by the lack of coverage if the violence is coming from the protesters or the government.

The writing was on the wall as eyes were glued to see the outcome of the Egyptian rallies.  It was only a matter of time before others followed through and began their own demonstrations for decency and dignity.   History is being made in the world as we become spectators within the virtual realm watching and waiting.  The dominoes were set up many years ago and last month a young Egyptian man tipped the first one and brought light onto the darkened stage and now we watch the dominoes fall and land as they will.

No one has the right to berate and cause another person to live in a manner that is less than the same dignity that he would have for himself.

The Human Factor

A mammal is what we are born.  A human being is what we become.  I have always tried to treat everyone as human beings.  There have been many times that those I saw as human turned out to be animals and quite wild.  I do not turn around and treat those folks as animals, they are after all still of the human variety even if they are cruel to others.

There are those who will watch a movie and see a dog get injured in the film and cry.  However, those same people will see a human being beaten and either walk on by or take out their cellphones and video the incident to put on YouTube later.  The evolution of humanity.

Last week I made a trip to the library.  I have been doing that more and more to check out audio/video items to amuse myself.  I had a bout of Meniere’s  the beginning of the week and was still pretty shaky so I was taking things even slower going in.  A woman in her mid to late sixties approached me and asked if she could assist me.  I stopped to chat with her and thanked her for her kindness.  I told her I just had to take things very slow.  We chatted for a while and I gave her one of my business cards which labels me a freelance writer.  She said she has no phone, no e-mail, no nothing and that she was a nothing.  She felt lonely and cast out.  She had had a hip replacement and it didn’t take so it had to be redone.  She has her dogs, but her 20-something son thinks she is crazy and doesn’t come around often.

I leaned against the wall of the library and looked at her when she said she was ‘nothing’.  I said that isn’t true, you are a human being and that is more important than anything else.

Being a human being, I mean a real human being where you care about your fellow humans is far more important than any job or position that anyone could have.  If you do not have compassion and empathy for others than you can’t be truly successful at anything else.  We must accept others as they are especially when they are so unlike us.  It is in doing this that we prove we can rise above the so-called human factor and become truly exceptional human beings.

Don’t Ask, Because I Won’t Tell

Wars have been fought for thousands of years.  While there are times boasting is appropriate, there are times when the acts of war should remain silent.  After memorials had been built to honor veterans and fallen soldiers from various wars, the vets of WWII were disappointed that none had been erected to honor them.  Many gave up their youth and lied about their age to go and fight and defend the United States.  What they were told was it was their fault none had been erected.  After all, they refused to talk about their experience so why should they be honored.  I was hurt and felt injured by this so I can only imagine what those vets felt.

I was recently reading the article “Private Places” in the March/April edition of Sierra  Magazine.  It was about a handful of vets on an Outward Bound expedition in the Sierra mountains.  The article began with a quote by one of the vets stating not to ask if any of them had ever killed anyone.  I pondered this and considered past stories I have heard.  The WWII vets weren’t commemorated with a memorial, WWI vets waited till late in life (Harry Patch didn’t speak till he was 100 years old) to tell their stories and now the current war in Iraq have all produced veterans not desiring to speak about what happened.  In part PTSD is accountable, but also (I speak only from what I have seen and imagine I would feel as I have never fought in a war) wanting to spare innocents from the hell of war,

Many in the media like to press and try to force the vets to talk openly about their experiences.  I think those so-called journalists should be put on the front lines with only their pencil and a tablet of paper and no journalist credentials.  If they make it back alive, allow their fellow journalists to force them to talk.

I love history and believe everyone should tell their stories.  However, there are certain lines that should never be crossed.  Asking someone if they have ever killed another human being (except for police questioning regarding murder) is just wrong.  Asking how it felt to take another human life, just to get a story should never be allowed.  Encouraging vets to tell their stories is well worth it.  Being able to take down the history of what happened can be passed on to future generations instead of having false information come in to play decades later such as has happened with the American Revolution, the creation of the first flag, the American Civil War, etc.   However, you do not need to record the number of people one soldier has killed nor the method and how they felt about killing another person.

During the local Independence Day telecast, the news anchors interviewed a local soldier just returned from the war.  The first question asked was “How was that for you?”  I was amazed at that, although I don’t know why.  Give veterans a bit of breathing room when they return.  Have respect for what they have just experienced knowing that they are forever changed.  When they are ready to talk, ask.  But, don’t ask if or how they have killed someone.  That is one experience no one should have to live through the first time, let alone reliving it to satisfy your morbid curiosity.

To Trust And Trust Not

What is trust?  Why do people trust?  Is trust a commodity to be bought and sold?  Or, perhaps, trust is a liability.  Where do I begin to answer my questions and try to figure out why one five letter word stifles me faster than any other, save love alone.

Random House begins their definition as such; “Reliance on the integrity, ability, etc. of a person or thing.”  But, doesn’t reliance mean trust?  OY!  The English language is confusing.  Maybe the part I have trouble with in this definition is “of a person…”  Roget didn’t even attempt to tackle the word trust.  They went from ‘truss’ straight to ‘trustee’.  Smart people they have working for them.

Trust is so overrated.  People use the word without really understanding it, like ‘love’.  They say “just trust me” or “you have to trust me”.  Why?  Every time I have put blind trust into another person, I alone have been hurt.  One should be able to trust the folks who gave them life.  Mine abused me physically and emotionally; and they allowed another parental figure to physically, emotionally and sexually abuse me.  Why trust?

I trusted my grandparents who had me most of my childhood.  They protected me until they wanted to make it permanent.  When they were denied this by my mother, they too gave me away.  They gave me back to the very person who wanted nothing more than to hurt me.  Why trust?

I trusted a man.  I gave him my heart and two years.  However, after a year and a half engagement, he decided to marry someone he knew for only two weeks, pretty much leaving me at the alter by sending me a letter one week and three days prior to our wedding.  Why trust?

I have trusted doctors who wrongly diagnose me and put me on medication that I do not need and which causes other more severe problems.  Doctors think they have all the answers and look at me as a troublemaker of sorts because I know more about me than they do.  Just be cause you have a degree is not a reason for me to trust you.

I used to trust myself.  But now Meniere’s is in play.  I never know if I am going to have a bout of vertigo or perhaps a drop attack.  I stagger along my way running into walls and furniture.  I can’t trust me or my body to do what I want them to do.   How can I trust me when I am laying sprawled out on the floor in pain from an illness that I cannot control nor vanquish.

Long ago, I would trust those who were, or at least seemed, different from my parents.  Until they proved I couldn’t trust them.  Now I trust no one.  I try to, but it just never comes.  I am finding more and more that there is a lot to be said for cynicism.  Maybe there is a future in it.  Or perhaps just a nice side venture till I can at least trust me once again.

So, why trust?  I still have not found any truly viable reason to trust flesh and bones.  When I have to rely on others, I suffer and always feel that it is not from goodness that they help me, it is for good old fashioned currency or some other form of repayment.

WHY TRUST?

You Think It’s Funny?

I did not plan on this post today.  I have another put together that I was going to post, then something happened.  I didn’t get much sleep last night as my heart was broken.  I woke up this morning the way I went to sleep last night, my heart aching and tears in my eyes.  I went to Writer’s Circle last night and the theme was April Fools Day.  I don’t do April Fools Day and therefore I didn’t write anything for it.  I read a few of my old standards as a friend had come to hear me read (he wanted to see if I sound like Dolly Parton).  Then another writer who had to pop out early asked me to read her April Fools piece simply called Fool.  I read it through and found we both share a similar view of things and I happily read the poem.  Most of the “antics” at Muse Harbor were in the form of puns (mostly from the comical host) and fitting limericks.

Later last night I was taken back in my feelings to when I was a kid.  My pulse was racing and I was quite flustered.  I made it through the event and then somehow, I made it through the night.  When I finally got out of bed and turned on the news I heard another disturbing story.  It was reported, for the second time in a week, that a teen had committed suicide due to teasing and bullying.  Everything from the night before and from my youth came flooding back to me.  It seems we don’t usually hear about it in the news that a child has been tormented and teased unless they deal with it outwardly by taking a gun and shooting those who have terrorized them.  We tend to ignore or sweep under the rug those who can take no more of the teasing (even if it is said to be done in fun) and they take their own life.

Jokes and pranks should not hurt or harm.  Comedy is the same.  But it seems more and more (especially in the United States) that the only way to have a laugh is to cause pain to someone else.  I try to just roll with it when others find they need to disrespect me or do things they know I do not like.  I do this because all my life those who cause me pain follow my complaints with “you need to lighten up” or “we are just having fun and joking”.  In other words, the person being tormented is accused of causing the pain because the terrorists mean it as a joke only.  Double whammy.  How is it funny when you cause another human being to cry themselves to sleep?  How is it funny if the one you torment has finally had enough and returns with a gun to make the pain (you) go away?  How is it funny when the one being tormented has finally stepped over the edge and they take away your source of entertainment by eliminating themselves?

Jokes and having fun should not be at the expense of someone else and their feelings.  Let me repeat that.  Jokes and having fun should NEVER be at the expense of someone else and their feelings.  If you see what you presume to be a weakness in another person, it is your duty as a human being to help that person to strengthen it and build them up.  But instead, you find it funny to use that weakness against them.  Just because they don’t like your abuse and terrorizing ways does not make them less a person then you.  Try complimenting and treating others with respect, the same respect you demand for yourself.  No, I do not like April 1st.  Too many fools think they have free license to torment and terrorize other human beings and those human beings are supposed to accept it and like it because it is in the name of fun and April Fools Day.

Loneliness Can Kill

The other day I published a post called Regrets.  I was hurting and didn’t know where to go or what to do.   I was making plans though.  I knew who would get what and made a list of letters to write to try to provide understanding.  Believing I cause only pain and suffering to all those I touch, I isolated myself more from those I care about in an attempt to shield them from me.

My background in psychology gave me the insight to see what was going on, however, I still felt powerless to the forces within.  A few of my on-line friends cornered me in an attempt to learn what was going on.  I talked a bit.  Then the next day still feeling very overwhelmed I was cornered by another on-line friend who isn’t as close to my inner-circle, and using MSN voice chat she read me the riot act and we talked more candidly.  I cried so much there wasn’t one dry spot on my handkerchief.  I told her that I believed the real issue to be my 16 month unemployment and diminished bank account compounded by a chronic illness.

After my four hour conversation with this person I ended up in a chat with one from my inner-circle.  Mostly superficial on my part, but I told her that I promised not to even talk about booking a one-way flight to Iraq for myself.  I then received an e-mail from a new friend that an old friend has been trying to introduce me to for nearly a year.  I set it up and we began to chat in MSN and the mutual friend began IMing me in YIM at the same time my cousin IMd me in Skype.  I was too focused on keeping my conversations straight to even acknowledge the overwhelming feelings within.

I spent a couple hours with a handful of my inner-circle last night in Second Life.  I stayed up a wee past my bedtime last night pondering things and for the first time in days I didn’t cry myself to sleep.  I am still unemployed.  My bank account is still empty.  I still have a chronic illness and I am still alone.  I woke up this morning considering everything.  I remember the other day feeling so bad I went on line and typed something (I can’t recall now what I typed) into a Google search.  The result was a website linked to the suicide hot-line.  I sat there and looked at the site and scrolled through.  It kept saying that if you were in immanent danger to call the number.  Being too cowardice I knew I wasn’t in that kind of danger and there are others more in need so I just looked at the screen.  Finally, I closed the browser and played backgammon against my computer.

I am not one to wear my heart on my sleeve and don’t go around telling everyone how sad I am.  This post and the last are exceedingly difficult.  However, I feel it needs to be said as I am sure there are others out there like me who may need encouragement or just validation that they are not alone.  What occurred to me this morning was how wrong I was in what I deduced yesterday.  The things that I thought were causing my issues were the aggravaters.   My real problem is loneliness.  It has been weeks since I have felt the human touch.  No hugs, no kisses, not even a handshake or the unintentional brushing up against someone not watching where they are walking in the market.  There is no one here for me to talk to when I am having a bad day or get stressed out because my balance is off.

Yes, there are those that would say right now, “Well, you could call me”.  I have called people or IMd them on-line with the intent of talking to them but I end up sitting and listening to them go on about their issues or they give me the feeling that they are too busy to take time for me.  I oblige and listen or let them go so they could continue with what they were doing.  Then I go off by myself.

The suicide rate increases during the winter months.  Holiday time it is the absence of loved ones who have passed away.  The cold weather sends us indoors where we are locked away from the rest of the world and when you live alone, that can be devastating.  It is this separation from other people that can drive someone, even someone with intelligence and education, to consider ridding the world of their life.

I have not just been considering my own situation, I have been trying to see the other side as well.  I am an isolationist, I try to cope by shutting myself off from everyone as I feel they do not need to be bothered with my issues.  I know this is wrong, but it is all I know.  So what should the ones who care about you do?  How can they know when you aren’t one to broadcast (how I envy those people who can make things known)?  A lot of times people get so busy with their own lives and their inner-circle that they forget about others they know who may be lonely.  Those who know me, know I am unemployed and that I have a chronic illness that prevents me from doing a lot of things.  There are times that I would love to take a walk in the park and make mention of it, but there is no one there to go with me, so I can’t go.

If you know someone who is pretty much cut off, then give them a call or drop them an e-mail.  Stop by and not just because you are in the neighborhood.  It will make a big impact if you go out of your way because you want to see them.  Let them know you want to spend time with them just talking, not about their situation, but as a friend the way you have done many times in the past.  Offer to go for a walk with them.  Just reach out and touch someone don’t just think about them and later when you happen to see them or talk to them tell them you think about them and pray for them all the time.   Those are nice words, but they don’t help to heal the real problem ~ Loneliness.  You don’t need to ask them what you can do for them, they probably won’t tell you.   But just be a friend and give them the one thing they crave more than anything in the world, your time and you.

We Are The World Misses It ~~ By A World

When “We Are The World” first came out in March 1985, I remember thinking that it was nice of them to put this together to raise money for African  Famine Relief.  Now twenty-five years later they have remade the song to benefit the earthquake stricken Haiti.  I still think it is a nice song and it is also nice to consider raising money to help others.  However, I do believe that they are missing the big picture and missed it 25 years ago as well.

I was watching the news when they aired a piece about the remake of Michael Jackson and Lionel Richie’s infamous song.  It struck me as odd when they began mentioning the people who would be  participating in this recording.  I went on a mission to learn more and found pretty much the same people had been involved in the original recording.  This group is made up mostly of North American musicians, singers and actors; a handful of English performers and a sprinkling of Latin artists.  I can understand these people wanting to be involved to lay claim that it is Michael Jackson’s project and is a good will song.  What I can’t understand is how they can, in good conscience, perform a song which talks about bringing the world together and not include the rest of the world.

Where are the Haitian’s, Russian’s, Romanian’s, Iraqi’s?  Why are the German’s, Afghan’s, Chinese not involved?  How can you have a song about the people of the world being one and not include a group from all nations of the world?  I haven’t figured out why they allotted a month to complete the original project (which they barely made the deadline for) and this time far less time adding even more undue pressure.

For those who are doing this project and want to do it properly I suggest you step back and add more time to your self-imposed deadline.  Get a clue by actually reading and comprehending the lyrics you are performing.  Get a nice sized grouping of entertainers in ALL nations of the world.  Let them perform the song not only in English, but their native tongue as well.  Taking the time to do this right and being ALL inclusive will provide a much more accurate fulfillment of the words being sung.

If it is FOR the world and ABOUT the world, then it should be delivered BY the world

Devastation In Haiti

On Tuesday, January 12, 2010, an earthquake measuring 7.0 on the Richter Scale struck the country of Haiti leaving devastation in its wake.  This is the first earthquake of this magnitude to hit the country in a century.  I have, watched passively the news casts containing graphic photos of the pain and destruction.  I spent a week in Haiti back in 1989.  During this week I celebrated my 24^th birthday.  While I did not go to Haiti to celebrate my birthday, it was an added bonus while I was there.  One of the shots shown on the news was the, now flattened, National Palace.  I looked away fast as tears began to well up in my eyes.  I remembered the day I took this photograph of that same National Palace.  Now it is rubble.

There have been so many thoughts going through my mind the past week since the story first broke of the earthquake.  I think about other natural disasters in recent history around the world.  I think about the loss.  And yes, I think about the time I spent there all those years ago.  I fortify my thoughts by looking through my scrapbook and remembering as if it were last week I was there.  As I look, listen and remember I find myself experiencing a wide range of emotions as well.  Sadness and heartbreak for all those who are there or have loved ones there.  I also feel relief as I know it could have been much worse.

The other emotion that seems to have taken over is anger.  Not because this happened, but anger over the reactions of some Americans.  I can understand they are grieving as their loved ones were there when the earthquake struck and have still not been found.  My issue is with them thinking and crying out as if American lives are of more value than other lives around the world.  There are still many Canadians, Europeans and especially Haitians unaccounted for.  There are over 100 UN staffers missing as well.  I hear the pleas of Americans begging the President of the United States to do everything possible to find the missing Americans.  Why are their lives more valuable?  From what I have seen in news reports the world around is sending aid in some form or fashion to try to find the missing and bring comfort and relief to the rest of the country.  There is nothing more that can be done than is already being done.

Human life is human life.  One life is not of more value than any other.  Narrow mindedness breeds resentment.  It is okay to grieve and want your loved ones back safely, but when you believe they are more important than another persons loved one, you make way for resentment.  I hope they find all those who are missing no matter their skin color, religion or nationality.  Hold good thoughts for all those who are missing, those who are injured, those who died and all their loved ones around the world.  Remember Haiti in all her beauty and splendor.  Like the grandeur found in this, the oldest church in Haiti.

Learning The Heart

I started writing more than 30 years ago when I was in the 7th grade in junior high.  I wrote a blog post a while back about how I got my start writing and being able to communicate my heart to others through poetry.  I had been writing for nearly five years when I graduated from high school.  Each year at the time of graduations our congregation would honor the graduates during a service and then present them with a gift, usually a book to offer guidance as they set out on a new and wonderful adventure.  On June 5, 1983 I was one of six in the congregation graduating.  We were presented a book of poetry and verse.  I was told that when they were deciding what to present, I was the one who came to mind.  They chose that particular book because I have a way of “reading between the lines”.  I was a stupid 17 year old kid and, while I felt honored, I didn’t have the slightest idea what was meant by these words.

It wasn’t till more than twenty years later that I would be able to really feel the honor that was bestowed that day.  I had heard the term reading between the lines before, but I don’t think I actually understood it to its fullest meaning.  I have never set out to be special or try to do things that are different from everyone else.   I think it is just that I see things from my hearts point of view and thus find different meanings in the way things are spoken and written.  After my book was released, I had a friend come to my house and ask me to sign a few copies so she and her mama could give them as gifts.  I sat looking at her and the books pondering what to write.  They wanted me to address them to certain people, write something and then sign the book.  I didn’t want to be like everyone else.  I have received autographed books and had a few signed personally as well.  I either get just a signature or “Best wishes” and a signature.  Then my mind went back to the person who told me I have a way of reading between the lines.  I had my autograph.

It made sense to me to do it this way.  There is so much to be learned when you go outside the box or in this case read between the lines.  So often we go through the motions of everything we do.  Our lives are so routine that we can drive our cars from point A to point B and sometimes wonder what happened in between.  We read the paper (or the on-line news) and it is all the same unless something really juts out and is different.  Try taking a breath and look at things from a different point of view.  Go outside the box, read between the lines and there you will find pleasure.

FIND PLEASURE BETWEEN THE LINES!!

Jazz Says It All

Last night I watched the Kennedy Center Honors program on CBS.  All five honorees were well deserving and well honored.  I found myself laughing and crying as they revisited the past achievements and even a couple bombs of the ones being honored.  There was so much history in that balcony as well as on the stage as I watched in awe and amazement with every detail and every utterance.  One thing struck me as they were honoring Dave Brubeck for his work in jazz, everyone was affected by this presentation.  Yes, it seemed that The Boss received more accolades and folks standing and swaying to his music as it was performed at the end.  Then there were those whose faces lit up with the wonderful tunes once performed by Grace Bumbry.  Rousing laughter nearly took the roof off the building when Robert De Niro and Mel Brooks were honored.  However, Dave Brubek’s music moved me more than I thought possible.

I have loved jazz for a long time.  Jazz and blues are very closely related so I am a fan of each.  Seems everyone knows my favorite is Louis Armstrong.  It is often said that jazz is the black man’s music and white men have tried to take it for their own.  I have also heard it called African Music.  I honestly do not believe any of this.  Jazz is the music of peace.  It transcends race, gender and age to bring everyone together for a meeting of the heart, mind and soul.  President and Mrs. Obama were seated in the balcony with the honorees.  Secret Service were there as well.  The agents assigned to protect the president are to be alert and always focused on what is around them.  I usually think of Royal guards who aren’t allow to move at all while they are standing guard when I think of the Secret Service agents.  While the cameras were capturing the faces of those in attendance during the performances I watched.  During Dave Brubeck’s presentation I noted the faces and posture of those the cameras caught.  When they were focused on the First Couple I noticed the Agent seated behind them.  His eyes were focused and watching everything around them, but his head was moving to the beat of the music.

Wide shots throughout caught everyone with heads bopping, feet tapping and fingers drumming to the fine jazz music being played.  Black, white, Hispanic, male, female, actor, musician, president.  It didn’t matter who they were, they felt the heartbeat of the music that is jazz.  If it moves your body, even your toe to tap, then it has reached your soul.  And that is JAZZ.