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.

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?

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.

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.

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

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.

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!!

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.

I sit here
all alone
within the sanctum
I call my soul
It is here,
among the memories,
I sit…
I watch…
I ponder on.
To the painful thoughts
I bid farewell
the nightmares
they vanish
as misty, moonlit dew.
Scars, which seem
centuries old,
blur and fade
into the seams
of the fortress strong.

Subsumed by darkness
trying to find
memories past,
thoughts fleeting through;
pleasant,
sweet,
pretty, genteel
Did they ever exist?
Have I known them at all?
Searching the boundaries
seeking the words
receiving a hollow knell.

The acropolis is strong,
not built in a day.
Year after year
enriched,
fortified
tears and fear
mix well for cement
plastered to the pain
erected to last
these walls
will not come down.

December 22, 2009

© DL Bach

I came to know this Lennon song after losing my hearing.  I knew I liked the music but didn’t know what the words were saying.  I did know it was played in the course of a Christmas segment of some sort.  I had a conversation with a friend who loves music and is a wonderful DJ in Second Life™.  I told him some of the words and finally he said it sounded like I was talking about John Lennon’s Happy Xmas.  I promptly went to Google and found myself listening to the song streaming on YouTube with the lyrics showing on the screen.  I listened and read for about 3 hours.  Yes, the same song for three short hours.  I cried so hard as my heart listened to the words as I read them.

War Is Over speaks of reaching out to others; other races, cultures, ages.  As humans we pride ourselves in 20/20 vision.  Perhaps if the entire world population were blind and deaf we would stand a better chance for peace.  We learn to disapprove and even hate those who are different from us.  We are so intent on revising and editing each other to chisel out a world-wide society that is identical to us.  We are alike.  Every human-being all over the world.  We all have bones and blood beneath the skin and hair that holds us together.  We all have hearts that beat and pump the blood through our veins.  We breath air into our lungs.

Where we differ is in our appearances, our beliefs, the way we think.  Yes, some of the ideas we hold are in error (i.e.: thinking ourselves better than everyone else), but not all of them.  It should be out differences that bring us closer together and give us the opportunity to learn from each other.  Perhaps I don’t like to eat pig, does this make those who do evil for doing so?  My skin is pale and I have green eyes.  Does this mean that a person with olive complexion and dark eyes can’t be a good person or my friend?

There is a war that we are all involved in.  It doesn’t matter our age, race, religion, sex or sexual orientation.  WE ARE ALL AT WAR.  The war is for peace.  I will post later regarding fighting.  But when we say we are a peaceful people, we should live it.  Thanks to the wonderful world of Second Life™, I have made friends with people all over the world.  They are of different races, cultures, religions and even sexual orientations.  We met on a different plain and got to know each other and accept each other as human-beings without adding prejudice and bias.  On this last day of  Chanukah, I hope those who celebrate it each received a set of blinders.  I hope those who keep Xmas will also receive some and then for Kwanzaa the same.  Put on your blinders and use ear plugs to fight this war.  Use your heart to get to know other people who are not like you in the way you think and believe.  No one says you have to change your ways and believe as they do.  Education, understanding and acceptance will be our weapons.

Listen and watch John Lennon and do so with your heart.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fvNRHrKyaX4