Abuse: The Gift That Keeps On Giving

Abuse, like charity, begins at home.  From the beginning, culture and civilization have been about occupation and entitlement.  Control and power. 

From the perspective of those who are entitled, the problems begin when those they wish to control do not go along with the perceived power and perceived entitlement.

Derrick Jensen, author of Endgame, summarizes the root of all evil.

It all comes down to perceived entitlement...Entitlement is the abuser’s belief that he has a special status and that it provides him with exclusive rights and privileges that do not apply to his partner.  The attitudes that drive abuse can largely be summarized in this one word.

The world is merely a reflection of the inner workings of beliefs perpetuated in families, cultures, and communities everywhere.

For years, I’ve not only been fascinated by those who seek power and control through war and claim God as their motivator and leader, but equally, by atheists who fall for this claim of a manipulative, skilled abuser. 

At odds in the ring?  The controller, the occupier, the entitled, the “believer” vs the atheist.  Fighting for God or against God?  “God starts more wars than anyone or thing.”  Really?

This is the same logic and brain-washing accomplished by all abusers.

  

When all else fails, blame God?  The occupations continue.  In fact, they grow.  Land ravaged.  Human rights violations and atrocities occurring practically unwatched and virtually ignored.  Neglect, abuse, horror flourishing.  

Atheists blaming, in fact, reflecting, exactly what the abusers have manipulated and orchestrated.  Essentially, buying into the brain-washing.  

Abusers change the game and they do it better than anyone.  Parasites and predators.  Diverting with words and smokescreens   Abusers accomplish this in their sleep.

Words are there to protect the perpetrator.  Actions must be the focus.  Like occupation of a country, the entitled will provide rhetoric, change the story, blame anyone or thing (obviously), to act.  Stealth attacks through incessant, hypnotic ramblings and encouraging friendly fire.  Control, domination and power are the goals.  

The irony is that while believers and non-believers fall for the same scapegoat, abusers provide a reason to in-fight while they continue raping and pillaging.  It’s what abusers do.  The abuse continues.  Abusers skillfully manipulate reality and we find that we blame anyone nearby.  

Essentially, abusers encourage uncertainty and instability.  They have followers doubt their own sanity and memories.  It’s a cruel irony.  The sane and sympathetic are anxious, uncertain, seeking leadership, and may succumb to being lost.  Abusers give a subtle mission to the prey and victims they wish to make accomplices:  find a “reason” for the chaos and turmoil.  Place blame.  It keeps everyone busy while the abusive occupy, take, and control more.

In the world of warfare, believers and non alike blame God?  I’m pretty sure that whether you follow a preacher or not, you may want to consider who everyone is following?  Abuse is not isolated and with our help and submission, the abusers have made it almost invisible.

What do you think?

Does “Faith” Freak You Out?

Perhaps, I lost you at the word.  Faith.

Originally, “faith” had nothing to do with “religion”. 

See also:

Strong belief.  Loyalty.  Acceptance.  Constancy.  Truth.  Trust in someone or something.  Allegiance to duty or person.  Fidelity to promises.  Sincerity of intentions.  Strong conviction.  Confidence in a person or thing. 

Strong, weighty word.  Redefined through history and encumbered with a load that it did nothing to deserve.

My feeling is...what a loss.

The word has been translated by the very language that created it. 

With some, the fear of the word is palpable.

Mindfulness is about clarity.  Removing judgment. 

Science needs clarity to practice science.  Science, itself, will be greater when we clear our heads (our thoughts), bring awareness to our language (word), and follow through with unbiased action (experimentation).  When we perceive threats, in a spoken word, we elicit a fight or flight response.  We function from our primitive brain.  We react.

People have had “faith” in placebos.

Faith existed long before religion.

The English Language lost a weighty word to its “evolved” meaning.

I want to start a movement.  Save “faith”.  In fact, “keep the faith”.  Fear leads to paranoia and so much more. 

Let’s get mindful with our words.  We have enough judgment leading to dissension.  I’d like to kidnap “faith” back from the battle zone of religion (more on that at another time).

Will you join me in a “leap of faith”...an “act of faith”?

Maybe, what we really need to change is judgment and fear?  What are we afraid of?

Used as it was originally prescribed, faith sure sounds like a source of peace and tranquility.

When Success Became Failure

But look toward the sky?

A curious thing happened one day when we weren't looking.  Our confidence did a flip-flop.  The meaning of a simple phrase changed.  Completely.

"I KNEW it!"

That's the phrase.

Maybe you remember being in 1st or 2nd grade.  You, or another bold classmate, raised a hand.  "Ooo.  Oooo.  Oooooo.  I know!  I know!  Pick me!"

The teacher glanced over and said, "Joe?  Yes?"  You answered with assurance.  Her pitch became higher and pleasant, "Yes!   Good job!"

She looked down at the textbook to move on, a hush fell over the room for just a moment, and you responded one more time even louder, "I KNEW it"!

Then, one day, all that changed.

Maybe it was life.  Maybe time hardens us.  Maybe time disappoints us.  Maybe time proves that we may be wrong sometimes.

Maybe time makes us wiser...and maybe, it doesn't.

We begin wanting to deliver that "right" answer more than anything.  We want to be right so badly that the day we were wrong, or the day we watched someone else give the wrong answer, the world of right changed.  Success changed.  Maybe it was that first twinge of hearing, "try again", "get-ting warmerrrrrr???", or the dreaded moving on...from a nod to Joe to a turn to Sarah.  "Do you know the answer, Sarah?"

Whoa.  That was rough.

Perhaps, we became cynics.  Disenchanted with our possibilities.  Perhaps, our dream of playing for the New Orleans Saints didn't come to fruition or that the audition for The Voice was just not in the cards.  Perhaps, it's just safer to know that we WILL be wrong and be "prepared for defeat" as a well-adjusted grown-up.  After all, if Joe were a Boy Scout, being prepared doesn't only mean knowing how to make Boston Baked Beans over an open fire.  Being prepared, in and of itself, often has pretty grim, pessimistic connotations.

BUT...one thing did remain the same.  We wanted to be "right".

So...when we grew up, "I KNEW it" almost always meant failure.  After all, we may be wrong, but we didn't want to lose being right.

If we want to be successful, change the world, chase dreams, be a positive force, and make anything and everything possible, I believe we need to put "I KNEW it" in front of a mirror.  Pull out her old reflection and stick with THAT.

We need to stop proving our selves "right" when we fail and start a movement of "I KNEW it" meaning I can make a difference.  I can bring positive change to my surroundings.

Maybe harness our "inner child" of promise, excitement, creativity....and definitely, enthusiasm?

"The Ripple Starts Here".

We need to ask who is the genius?  I'm thinking it was Joe.  Confident, brave and a little bit brazen too.

Sometimes, I hear our 1st grade teacher saying, "Yes.  Joe.  You certainly do know!?"  Failure after each miserable failure.  "Your ARE right.  You're wrong again."  Awesome. 

Drop the world-weary psyche-out of adulthood.  Abandon the journey to failure.  Stop blindly traipsing along on the "mature" stepping stones of "I KNEW it.  I KNEW it.  I KNEW it". 
Yes.   You're right again.  Success!   You failed.  They failed.  The world fails.  Sounds like insanity to me?

What are we teaching our kids?  Maybe it's time for us to learn from them?

Then, you KNEW it.  Now, you don't.

Do you wanna be right?  Or...wrong?  Surprise yourself!  Whodda thunk being wrong could feel so right?

The Face of a Woman

Great #art project addressing #sexism and cat calls. Written comments are even more telling. pic.twitter.com/ofC6bcAwV1
— YK Hong (@ykhong) March 9, 2013

In June, I discovered this tweet.  I haven't stopped thinking about it.  Yesterday was Women's Equality Day.

Since spotting this tweet, I can't tell you the number of times I have been going about my business, carrying the loss of my mother and other enormously back-breaking life events with me, and I've been told to smile or somehow alter the somber expression on my face.  

Then, it occurred to me, this has often happened to me throughout my life on the rare occasion I wasn't smiling.  I never really thought about it.

On a daily basis, I am the first person to smile.  I'll greet you, smile and say "how are you?"  I am delighted to listen and hear more.  I am joyful and inquisitive.  My greatest joy is to brighten a person's day.  I approach everyone first with, of course, a smile.  

I like to carry a smile with me and "share the bug".  

But, there is more to a smile that is undeniable.  There is a history to smiling that is often not acknowledged.  There was a time when "football players never smile" was freely spoken, understood, and admired.  Honest and humorous.  I think we were safer then. 

There is no one who believes more in joy, love, peace, and compassion than I do.  However, this beautiful piece of art, remembered again on Women's Equality Day, reminds us that, sadly enough...smiles are not equal.  

In some cases, with heads and hearts that hold dark thoughts, a smile, on The Face of a Woman, can be an invitation, seen as a flirtation, to disaster.

Smile...and be mindful.  Remember those who can smile freely when they are happy and remember those who may be told to smile.  And never forget those who when they did smile, as they were told, may later face an accusation that since they did smile, they "asked for it".

We still have not reached equality when a woman's, or girl's, smile of innocence may not be treated for what it is.  In 2013, it would be politically incorrect to say so.  

Attitudes can be held in darkness...or behind a smile.

Pain Management and Mindfulness

The Healer

First a disclaimer:  Take what you can and leave the rest...

Before every mindful and meditating person stops reading this article beyond the first paragraph, please bear with me.

This is a story that I have shared with a number of people about an experience that I had following a surgery in 2009.  The pre-surgery tests and results came back and my surgeon and doctors were making plans.  A long, very difficult recovery was outlined and explained to me by a variety of specialists.

Prior to the surgery, I did my thing.  Meditating and reading the best I could.  I wanted the mildest pain killer and dosage possible and I explained to the doctor that the pain was so great that I couldn't get to the point of being able to meditate.  I needed something to take the edge off so that I could continue my process toward peace and relief.  For a person they considered to have "a high pain tolerance", they did their best to relieve the pain, but keep me completely functioning.

The surgery went perfectly.  One day, I may describe the experience further in my blog.  As they rolled me between the swinging doors exiting the room, I awoke.  The surgeon and anesthesiologist leaned down, spoke my name, reiterated the surgery I had just undergone, and said ..." you're going home".

In my delirium, that had a number of interpretations.

They wheeled me into recovery.  Now, I cannot explain the feelings of being in recovery, but I was the only one conscious in that recovery room.  Nurses and doctors buzzing around me to do all they could to release me quickly.  I was overwhelmed.  Disbelief is an understatement.  Guilty for having been so fortunate.  And...pain beyond any I had ever experienced (they forgot to administer any pain relief following the surgery).

I went home.  Joy, relief, disbelief, gratitude, love almost all-consuming.

But, there was guilt.  An unbearable emotion.  Underneath it all.  Overwhelming.

"Why me?  How did I get so lucky?  I'm so joyful and grateful and feeling such relief escaping the forecasts of my predicted future...but why me?"

I felt terrible, but I did what I do.  I meditated.

The pain was still beyond anything I had ever experienced.

I went into the meditation with this thought of horrendous guilt behind it all.  The thought itself was the "gorilla in my mind" at the time.  Enormous.

As I slowly slipped "back to reality" following the meditation, I began to feel something.  A relief.  An answer of sorts.

The answer seemed to be written for me.  Like a billboard becoming visible as I neared it, the answer in my mind was clear.

"Because you're not done yet."

I know these answers are "obvious", "simple"....I've been told that more times than I can remember...but I have also been told, "why didn't I think of that"?

That's mindful meditation.  The simple.

The greatest truths and answers are just that.  Pure.  Simple.

My point to sharing this story was a discussion that I had with young man who was undergoing tests for a disease that would change the rest of his life.  I listened to his pain and thought I'd share this story with him.  For what it may be worth.

He said to me, "you have no idea what this answer did for me."  He was so grateful and a look of relief and serenity crossed his face that I hadn't seen since he received his possible diagnosis.  He said, "You need to tell people this.  It's so simple, but we forget."  And..."Thank you.  Thank you so much."

If anyone feeling pain of any sort reads this, I hope they may find some relief in knowing that there is much more ahead for you.  No matter the type of pain and no matter the path ahead.  Yes.  You are in agony and you may have many questions about the pain.  But, remember.

You are here and experiencing.  You're not done yet.  Whatever that may mean.  There's some great mystery.  A gift is wrapped.

Obvious, I know.

Sometimes, the best, simplest answer is the only answer we have.

Tomato, Basil, and Garlic Pasta

The ingredients 

Balsamic vinegars

5-6 cups ripe tomatoes, coarsely chopped, reserving juice

1/3 cup extra-virgin olive oil

1-2 tsp. balsamic vinegar

1 TBLS. sea salt

1 TSP. freshly ground black pepper

2 cloves garlic (or one clove elephant garlic), peeled 

3/4 lb. thin pasta ( spaghetti, linguine, etc)

1 cup fresh basil (coarsely chopped)

Summer's tomatoes and fresh garlic join basil vinaigrette

In large pot, bring water to a boil

In serving bowl, combine tomatoes, their juice, oil, vinegar, salt and pepper.  Put aside.

Blanch garlic in boiling water 30 seconds.  Rinse under cold water, dry and dice into serving bowl with all ingredients.

Cook pasta in pot 8-11 minutes or until al dente

Drain pasta and add to serving bowl.

Top with parmesan cheese.

Serves 4

Preparation and cooking:  Approximately 30 mins.

Mindfulness: When Worlds Collide

April 17, 2013.  Logan International Airport.  Boston, Massachusetts.

On April 19, 2013, I was in Boston, Massachusetts.  I was attempting to fly from my childhood home to my present home.  I don't need to tell you the story.  It's been covered.

The tower at Logan, in Boston.  I'm sure they didn't know what they may be facing.

The moment.  The experience.  The slice of time.  Oh yes.  Boston is strong.

Then...the connection.

I was in Boston reuniting with my family for one of the most life-altering, crushing blows that anyone faces in a lifetime.  I arrived in Boston, April 17, to lay my first greatest blessing on this planet to rest.  I was in Boston to remember and celebrate the life of my dear, enchanting, radiant and loving mother.

I speak a bit about my mother on Facebook.  There is far too much for me to say about her here.  Suffice it to say, her life is one of the richest and most selfless this world will ever be graced to witness.

My mother will always be one of the most amazing people I will ever know.  She had an endless supply of indispensable wisdom and an unmatched, tender gift for delivery of firm guidance.  Yet, she had a curious way that encouraged freedom, creativity, and ingenuity with a grace that most people will never be able to duplicate, let alone master.

During adolescence, I remember a discussion that we had frequently.  Whether I was referencing my friends' actions, or her opinions, she would say fearlessly, "Be different".

The strength, confidence, and faith in that statement still astounds me.  I could have been anything.  I could have done anything.  You've been there.  You know what I'm saying.  She challenged the world of adolescent possibilities completely -- with no fear or reluctance whatsoever.  That's faith.  That's love.  The absence of fear.  As is said often, "the opposite of love is not hate.  It's fear."

So...the adolescent mantras of independence and different became a joke to me at that point.  My mother's gentle teaching flattened the cliques and "cools" that were my world at the time.  Those independent souls advertising and proclaiming rebellious actions became silly.  They were all the same and worse yet, they "didn't even get it!"

I was seeking...different.  It was time to grow...and that was her lifelong message to me.  That was always her message.  "Do better" than those kids.  "Do better than ME", she would say.

I knew I never would, but I sure loved and respected anyone saying that...and here she was.  My Mom!

My life has proven to be a winding road.  A quest like that isn't pretty, but Mom never said it would be.

The journey has not been without mistakes, corrections, guidance and downright "face plants" (an expression of which cyclists are well-familiar).  The tests have proven numerous and endless as they are for all of us.  I am grateful to have stumbled through this journey, with all of it's bumps, bruises and scars.

As part of the challenges thrown my way, I faced one of the greatest questions that each of us faces throughout our lifetimes.  The very serious, relentless interrogations came about 25 years ago.  The "Trials" I call them now.  The ceaseless, painful inquisitions about my faith.  Sure, I had my childhood lessons of respect, rituals, and diligence.  I had no preparation for this.

I went to school.  Science was a favorite subject.  I had a million questions myself.  I wasn't prepared for this test.  I hadn't studied.  In reality, I was not only ill-equipped, I was flat out lame!

From my own experience, questioning my mother and her convictions, I knew anyone questioning me so seriously (and in fact, ferociously at times) was searching for their own answers in defiance and desperation.  After all, these inquiries were not coming from a child or teenager.

This was a perfect instance for which the third degree and badgering could have been the most miserable experience of my life.  At the time, it was.  But, now, I couldn't be more grateful for the answers I was forced to find and prove for myself.  The "evidence" and "proof" I had to prepare under intense duress.  Little did I know it, at the time I needed to survive through this torturous line of questioning for my journey.  I was enduring what I would need and use the rest of my life.  That cross-examination, in fact, was a gift to me.  The "opportunity" that is so often referenced in the "take-aways" from losses or painful circumstances.

My Mom used to say that everything in life comes down to math.  Problem-solving.  Awesome.

In March 2013, I noticed this one word.  One name.  My Mom's beautiful name -- etched in a railing encircling the end of my favorite pier near my home now.  Then, the fog horn blew.
As people we find comfort and security embracing the constants for ourselves.  Ironic, when we embrace the variables, the unknown...that's when everything begins and that's where we will find the most peace and comfort.
That's where everything becomes one.
 "It's all about the math."

Mindfulness was a big part of this exploration and journey.  Awareness.  Being in the moment.  Not judging or defining.  Not labeling or needing to categorize or make sense of anything.  In fact, solving without solving.  A solution in and of itself.

I began practicing mindfulness.  I began meditation.  I began studying a variety of practices, teachings, and disciplines.

Since then, I have a new appreciation for many of life's experiences that flow like waves into our lives.  Painful and joyous.

There are no coincidences...Coincidence is a mathematical term.  Two angles that coincide are said to be two angles that fit together perfectly.  That is in no way accidental.  In science, "there is no implication that the alignment of events is surprising, noteworthy or non-causal."  We lost something in the translation.  Again.  It all comes down to math...

Once a few years ago, I had an opportunity to test all that I had studied for the past decade.  I was extremely ill and experiencing excruciating physical pain.  If excruciating physical pain does not demand mindfulness, nothing else will.  A lesson, I now know, I had to experience or I wouldn't reach the point that I needed to reach.  I wouldn't master the lesson in time for my next step.  I am not the brightest student!

I began a compassion meditation.  Without provocation, or direct invitation, a phrase echoed in my mind as I withdrew from the moments of serenity.  I was ill and to be "restored" as we know it.  However, there were words that assured me there is no separation, no divide.  The only separation is..."as we know it".  "As we choose to see it."  The following words played over and over following this meditation and through the tests, surgery and recovery.

"On earth as it is in heaven."

I never really...I mean really...thought about what that means.  The meditation brought it into focus.  It was monumental in my mind.  I couldn't deny or avoid the words themselves if I tried.

"On earth as it is in heaven".

As I explored, "being different", questioning, remaining open, receptive, and problem-solving, these words would have been the least I expected to hear.  I was in a wide-open state.  Receptive to everything possible.  Desiring answers.  In fact, expecting to be surprised and blowing away all that I had ever been taught and "knew".  Maybe, even smugly allowing an "I told you so" to creep into my mind.   

What did I hear?

Now, I understand why those particular words were necessary for me.  I was treading in a territory of infinite wisdom and knowledge.  I needed a language translation.  I needed help!  I needed those specific words in a language I could recognize in order to be taught "something" for which there are no words.

"A peace that passes understanding".

For someone else, they will come in a language that speaks to them.  Same message.  Different language.  Simple.

On April 19, 2013, I was experiencing a personal transformation.  A day of reckoning of my own.  A day that my life, my journey, had been preparing me for all along.  On the surface, it was horrific.  My life had been blown up.  All that I had ever known from the moment I was born was in chaos.  I don't have the words to explain my visible, tangible self at that moment.  I'm still there to some extent now.  The loss of a dear loved one will do that.

Mindful of my loss.  Mindful of the magnitude of my personal sorrow and heartache.  And...aware.  Mindful that Boston...and the world...and our human connections, our strength and resilience are not really planted to the earth beneath our feet.  Mindful that there is no separation.  The limits rest here if we choose to limit ourselves.  

In my journey, my inner world and outer were mirrors for instants that day...and everyone was seamlessly connected.  One humanity.  One experience for me to see and feel.  The pain and strength and resilience...beyond anything physically limiting...and the choice.  Those who rose beyond the constraints.  Those who rose above the pain.  Those who rose beyond the limits...and of course, those who served.

I am reminded of a quote by Dr. Viktor Frankl, “What is to give light must endure burning.”

I've returned to another of the earth's beautiful spots.  My home is where the fog horn blows and the sea laps the pilings of a sturdy pier.  Like all of us, parts of me remain true.  Sturdy.  Strong.  But, there is a different kind of strength.  Something beyond strength "as we know it".

There is Boston Strong. 

Parts of me, like Boston, will never be the same.  I know, in time, we will all be better for it.  In fact, stronger for it.  This I know.  This is the journey.

Mindfulness gave me some of the answers that I needed as I fell to my knees and crawled along this most recent path.  I felt the weight of the world with this lesson, but I know the weight is proportional to the lesson.  So...I will be grateful.  One day.  Some day.

We press on...My Mom would saying "smiling"!

I had to come from the places I have been to reach, see, and understand where I am today.

There are no coincidences...when worlds collide.  And when they do...you can do the math.

I love you, Mom.

Prejudice? Read the label...

It SAYS "Chunky", but buyer beware?

Chunky or creamy?  Which one are you?  Maybe, you can swing either way?

Me?  I'm a chunky.  Or...no peanut butter at all, thank you.  Ya.  Pretty uptight and inflexible, I know. I guess we all have our "things".

I've been thinking a lot about judgment lately, and then, this peanut butter dropped into my shopping basket.  All of the sayings and deep thoughts came to mind.   "Judging a book by its cover", "leaping to conclusions", "buyer beware", "not getting what you pay for", "buying what you're selling me"...and, ultimately, prejudice and first impressions fused together in my now, favorite jar of all time.  Here she is!  Chunky Peanut Spread?

I ask...do YOU see a single, precious nut chunk in there?  

Me?  I didn't see a one.  My son (a chunky young man himself -- very thin, but a Chunky Man) was much more inquisitive and open-minded.  He looked very closely and gave an additional test.  He raised the jar to his NOSE, and he smelled the peanut butter.  As a peanut butter connoisseur, and he is (well-initiated to the nuances of good peanut butter I may add), he said, "this is DEFINITELY chunky". Whoa.  Texture is not everything!

We have a split home.  Three chunky.  Three creamy.  So, this was easy.  We grabbed a "creamy jar" to compare.  We unscrewed the creamy and sure enough he was right!  Even without the chunks, chunky and creamy SMELL vastly different!!

You can read the label and feel deceived.  Duped.  Short-changed.  Maybe you even feel like the victim of a terrible lie.  Betrayed.  You can return to the store and insist on a replacement.  "Chunky!  I bought Chunky!"  You can write the company a note and hope for a crate of pure, unadulterated Chunky Spread in return for their negligence.  Shoot.  You could call a lawyer.  

Me?  Somehow, I loved this crazy jar.  If it was possible, I would have kept this jar forever.  A piece of art.  I'd call it "People Butter" and rest it in a very special spot.

The outside may lead to a certain determination or hasty conclusion, but remember it's all about what's INside.  And, even upon closer inspection,  peering into the "jar of People Butter", there may be some truth to what the label said all along.

For me, one thing IS for sure.  When I see Chunky Peanut Butter Spread...when I "buy what you're selling"...when you're advertising "chunky" all over?  

You better have the nuts.

Chicken Divan

Your Ingredients:
Chicken, cooked

1 carrot, sliced

1 small onion, chopped

1 tsp. salt (optional)

2 - 10 oz. pkgs. frozen broccoli (or use fresh) 

1 - 10 1/2 oz. can cream of chicken soup (or mushroom!)

2/3 cup mayo

1/3 cup evaporated milk

1/2 cup grated cheese (I like Swiss)

1 T. lemon juice

1 T. melted butter

1/2 cup bread crumbs

How to cook and assemble:

Cook carrot, onion, and salt 

in Dutch Oven.  Drain.  

Cut up chicken.

Arrange frozen or fresh broccoli in 9 x 13 inch greased casserole pan.

Mix soup, mayo, milk, cheese, lemon.

Pour over chicken.

Put bread crumbs on top and drizzle with melted butter.

Heat in oven 30 minutes at 350.

Gun Control: Who's in the Crosshair, Ms. Lukas?

Sandy Hook Elementary School Mourns
(Mario Tama/Getty Images and Emmanuel Dunand/AFP/Getty Images)

If a picture speaks a thousand words, there are no words convey the message and feelings following the Sandy Hook Elementary School Nightmare.

If the mass slaying of 6-year-olds isn't enough to move the United States of America, it's about time we consider:  what will?

The world is moved.  The world is watching.  The world is still...waiting...

The urgency to reform gun laws and the price paid for our long-standing cutbacks in mental health services could not be made clearer than with this story.  Our negligence in tending to responsible social issues lies naked -- raw -- before us.  Our most vulnerable have paid the ultimate price for our neglect and stalemates.

Those we are entrusted to care for, raise, nurture, and protect have been lost.  Anywhere else, anytime else, anyone else, we know the answer.  We've done it before and would do it again.  The United States would declare war.

Agree or disagree, that's what we do in America.  Our soil, our children, our reason, our response.  War.

No small irony.  The United States would resort to weapons.

I am not debating that issue now.  In fact, to the contrary.

However, given that the United States would respond with a "justified military response" in any other situation resembling this attack on our most vulnerable, I find the position of Ms. Carrie Lukas, Managing Director of the Independent Women’s Forum and Forbes Contributor, much more than a surprise.  Apparently, Ms. Lukas wants to leave the kids out of the debate...and talk.  Finally.  Talk. 

This is amazing news.  A new response to bloodshed.  A new supporter of discussion and peaceful response.  However, Ms. Lukas, can we make it fast?  There's a "message" in the picture.  We're running late.

I'm not debating gun laws here.  I'm noting the problems we are facing in simply beginning to discuss the issues.  I'm writing about what I see going on with our elected parties and those who speak as pundits.  It's no surprise that the United States is getting nowhere with any issues right now.

If we wonder why Washington struggles with action and reform, Carrie Lukas may typify the mindset best.  The insight provided in her Forbes article, Using Children To Pass Gun Laws Is Grotesque and Childish, explains a lot about politics right now.

Lukas expressed a number of points that I found troubling; however, the gist of her article is what I found unimaginably sad, yet telling.  There is a futility masking any possibility of progress in ending escalating terror and violence.  Ms. Lukas is an example of those representing us in Washington right now.  It's no surprise that America's hopes for change are looking grim.

My first point.  Lukas' title.  Involving children in anything to do with guns is "Grotesque and Childish".  That is the point after all.  That is exactly why we find gun control stories in the headlines everyday now.  Those who own guns know that this incident was different.  Grotesque.  This gunman was able to use young children as targets in his psychotic rage and as objects for his horrific illness.  This sick young man used guns...and children...  Grotesque is exactly how the world sees it.

Lukas' insight was that the president was posing with children.  Yes.  Obama was pictured with children who wrote letters to the White House in an effort to take action, be heard, and begin discussions about the possibility for help.  Kids leading the cause to pass laws to solve a looming constitutional and social issue.  Her conclusion,  "let’s have that conversation as adults, and leave the children out of it" was stronger and longer than how the United States government can saves the lives of our babies and everyone else.

Ms. Lukas, I think you're missing the point.  Using children is grotesque...and we have to do something about it.  Now! 

In 2001, stories ran with President Bush posing on top of disintegrating concrete and twisted steel graves.  According to Lukas, most of us missed the point.  As readers, we were deceived.  The man had motives.  A tasteless GOP photo op. 

World Trade Center (Stan Honda/AFP - Getty Images File and Doug Mills/AP)

At that time, I'm sure Lukas was equally appalled by President Bush.  Likely, she was rendered incapable of discussing terrorism...disgusted with the Commander-and-Chief himself... demanding the president just leave the World Trade Center out of the pictures.

Ms. Lukas, I think I get your point?

Personally, when I saw President Bush posing on top of the World Trade Center ruins in 2001, the last thing I thought or cared about was how the scene was serving President Bush.  Your non partisan message is that the president was using the exclusive photos of the carnage for the repulsive purpose of political gain.  The message in the "ink blot" of the story?  What we should have seen.  Courtesy of Ms. Carrie Lukas.  You fell mysteriously silent then, when we needed you to speak to us and educate us about motives and giant conspiracies.

Ms. Lukas, if "adults" like you are waiting to act on how to stop these man-made catastrophes, holding out on any attempt to regulate and update antiquated laws, making it impossible to pass legislation and effect real change, we're all in trouble.  Finally, it's time to let go of your own paranoia.  President Barack Obama is not the evil, conniving threat you perceive here.

20 beautiful, promising children and 6 caring, amazing adult school staff members lost their lives on December 14, 2012, in one of the most gruesome horrors this country has ever seen.

Rather than discussing what we can do to solve the issue, Ms. Lukas doesn't like the picture.  As an adult, it was my belief we were supposed to progress to "using our words" to communicate.  With or without your perception of the picture, Ms. Lukas.

Lukas advises that we choose not to focus on the children, but the manipulative, scheming, grotesque democratic message?  What is really grotesque here?

What do I see in the picture of Obama with the children?

• We're late.  It took a grotesque act such as this to get our attention.

• There are kids MISSING in the picture.  The children who lost their lives.

• Children are relaying the message for children lost.

• If we had acted sooner, there would be no children in the picture.  Leave the kids out of it?  There they are..."kids...scratch(ing) out some tear-jerking pleas for the President to put an end to nightmares"?

• Not exactly President Obama seizing the occasion as a photo op.

Lukas is not the only person guilty of dragging her feet, questioning motives, looking for some hidden, pointless meaning in pictures...and delaying progress.  This is a very serious issue for Washington --- before we can even begin to discuss guns, rights, freedom, the Constitution, and our most precious resource.  Our children.

Ms. Lukas, it's time for YOU to put down the fairytale book with the pretty pictures and join "a real conversation about the efficacy of gun laws and what measures might prevent mass shootings and keep deadly weapons out of the hands of criminals and the mentally ill."  It is generally accepted that most of us across the world possess the "natural instincts... to want to shield children from life’s pain... and honor the universal, human "desperate desire to protect children from harm".  Your insistence that these drives and passions serve to "distract from the truly important, adult business of assessing what solutions are actually available" may well be our problem.  Grotesque.

In California, right now, children experience a new drill.  Children aren't "left out of it".

School and classroom exits are locked on a daily basis now.  Door windows, that used to give a glimpse into the hallways, are blacked-out so that no one in the hallway can see into classrooms.  Fire and Earthquake Drills continue, but now, the "Lock-down Drill" is performed more than any other.  Alarms sound, K-12 kids crawl beneath their desks, teachers take shelter, and now a new, more "realistic" technique has been added.  Last week, counselors ran down the hallways, pounding loudly on each door while the kids and teachers were seeking shelter.  Kids screamed.  Teachers jumped -- even knowing this additional act of realism was about to take place.  Children could hear the pounding on doors approaching their own classroom and then, progressing down the hallway to the next and next.  America's children have a reminder of those little children at Sandy Hook Elementary School.  I only wish we could leave our children out of it.  I think Ms. Lukas has been "offer(ed) a fresh pillow, inviting her to think that somehow it will foster only happy visions"...leaving her out of it.

Ms. Lukas, it was grotesque that children became involved, grotesque that they are living with these re-enactments each day, and grotesque that you can claim to even try to leave kids out of it.  Perhaps, you can visit a classroom and explain your thoughts and feelings as the alarm blasts and our kids practice taking cover and strain to hold back tears of terror.  You can explain to them that their fear is childish and math and science are only part of a good education.  My fear is that maybe, one day, they will actually get used to the drills, because we didn't tend to our "true adult business".

While you are engaged in the "adult discussion" of ensuring stalemates in gun control legislation and President Obama's publicity tactics, children practice how to survive in school and teachers explain to the curious, "I will throw desks and chairs at anyone coming in.  We must stay in our positions until we hear from a uniformed police officer outside."

I get your point, Ms. Lukas.  Now, maybe, you can listen to mine.

The pictures that have been chosen are the only pictures the news outlets can share.  After all, the real carnage at Sandy Hook Elementary could not be printed.  The story was so horrific that we see the only pictures fit to view.  That is the saddest and most grotesque reality of all.  There are first responders who will relive that horrendous day until there last breathe.  I'm sure they could tell you a thing or two about pictures...and children...and "Nightmares and soft pillows".

Let's get to this real conversation you speak of Ms. Lukas.  Move mountains.  Work across the aisle.  Show us what adults do!

Perhaps, you had a point.

We have to do something.  You are either with us and the children, or you are on the side of mentally-ill, child-murdering maniacs. 

Based upon your entire article, there is more truth in that statement than I ever wanted to hear or believe.   Now that you have finished analyzing the most tasteful photo that could be taken to reference the horrors of the Sandy Hook story, perhaps you can move on and get to the "adult business of assessing what solutions are actually available."  Discussion, compromise, change, action and "getting along well with others" may be good starting points in this adult brainstorming session you reference.  Why put off 'til 2016 what should have been handled on the Capitol Hill Playground in 1990?  Why did a "crazed gunman" (perhaps an injured and neglected child himself) drag children into the issue of gun control, and why did you fail to see the picture for what it is:  a representation of all that we haven't done, are doing too late, and who is missing...and left standing...to defend the rights of our children?

Ms. Lukas, who is doing the less important adult business of answering for "Our natural instincts... to want to shield children from life’s pain"?  Who is "fixating on our desperate desire to protect children from harm"?  Not you.

What would get you to move or be moved?  When would you stand up and put all politics aside?  The picture you paint with words is grotesque and inexcusable.

Children.  Leave them out of the business of gun control?  The pictures seem to say that it's too late for that.

Show us what big kids do.  Take care of the little ones, Ms. Lukas.

My shoulder was a pain in the neck

The Vitruvian Man (c. 1485). Leonardo da Vinci 

A white pick-up truck fish-tailed out of control and crossed an interstate one pitch-dark, misty, zero-visiblity morning.  There is only one way for me to see the situation.  I was the most fortunate person on the planet that day.  

The truck hit my small, two-seater on the passenger side, took me with it, continuing in a spin, destroyed the front end, and finally finished impact by smashing the driver side.  I spun 270 degrees and was left crossing all lanes of the freeway.

Somehow, I walked away.

Following the accident, I saw a doctor who essentially said I was fine -- and given the severity of the accident and likely result, I agreed.

However, as long as I could remember following the accident, I have had a nagging (and sometimes, excruciatingly painful) shoulder blade.  This summer, I was on vacation and injured myself.  There weren't a lot of medical options readily available.  The pain was so severe, I had to investigate it further.  Literally, I was barely able to move and when lying in bed, I could not move at all.  Rest became impossible.

I am hoping that sharing what I learned about this injury may help someone else.

It turns out that, as the pain got worse, there were clues to its source and its remedy.  I noticed that I had numbness in three fingers on the same side as my aching shoulder.  My middle, ring, and "pinkie" finger were feeling cold and numb.  The origin seemed to run from my elbow down.

As one might expect, from a car accident, the doctor and I should have suspected whiplash at the time, but we didn't.  

I found a very helpful video series that may help you determine the source of your injury if you suffer from shoulder or arm discomfort.  Of course, I encourage you to visit your doctor and ask about "referred pain" -- pain that may originate from your neck or elsewhere.  However, in the meantime, if these exercises can help you or give you answers to the source of your discomfort, I am happy to have had the chance to save you some time or give you some options for temporary relief.

My shoulder pain could be explained as follows:

Damage to the nerve root at C6 – 7 (C7 root) will result in

• Pain from the neck and shoulder down the outside (lateral) surface of the arm, to the middle finger.
• Weakness in the triceps, with decreased sensation along the back of the hand and middle finger.
• The symptoms may be reduced if you put your hands on the top of your head, which may relieve pressure on the nerve by increasing the space between the cervical vertebrae.

This video series proved to be extremely helpful in determining the exact source of my shoulder pain.  The exercises are surprisingly simple.  I knew the moment that my shoulder responded by making the exercises difficult to perform (but not painful), I had targeted the origin of my pain.  A pain in the neck!

I didn't expect the neck movements to be felt so strongly in my shoulder blade area, but each exercise proved to be a tremendous test when I tried them.  Of course, the pain was at its worst at this point, but that was precisely how I determined the benefits of the stretches.  Surprisingly enough, after just a couple "sessions" of the exercises, I was almost entirely symptom-free.  I hope that this information may save someone from waiting, wondering, and living with the chronic condition only to find that one day, the pain leads to immobility.

Whether fitness is your thing or not, "referred pain" can be perplexing and chronic.  Don't ignore it.  Listen to the signs.  Your body is giving you clues.  Trace these breadcrumbs to the source.  Then, when you visit your doctor, you are prepared to tell them "exactly where it hurts".

Where's the PC in Peace and Compassion?

His Holiness the 14th Dalai Lama Meets with Thai Buddhist Scholars

I'm struck by the notion that there is a "political correctness" attached to peace and compassion.  When, in fact, peace and/or compassion is "right".

In 2012, Californians voted to uphold the death penalty.  In 2012, the world witnessed war, upheaval, and atrocities at every corner of the earth.  In 2012, we continue to determine when "an eye for an eye" is justified.

My questions remain.  When are peace and compassion universal truths and not just words to use at this time of year or words to invoke during a healthy meditation exercise?

When are retaliation and punishment "acceptable"?  Do peace and compassion begin with the individual and ripple out to our family, neighbors, nation, and world?  Do the rules change for a nation under siege?  Do numbers of lives lost constitute a repeal of a compassionate response?

Is war different from a single slaying?  Is the children's song, "Let Peace Begin with Me", a hope, dream, fairytale?

We seem to assign an appropriateness to morality.  We seem to decide when it is OK to "show mercy" and when we can stray from that ideal.  Does this judgment and determination defeat the entire concept of peace and compassion?  Is a compassionate life conditional?  Are we capable of deciding when it is OK to wish ill upon another?  How many people have to arrive at a conclusion to make an exception to our moral code?  When is the consequence "it's all right to take a life under these circumstances" acceptable?

Does the anonymity of a group vote make a difference?  Are we safer casting our judgment and punishment when we stand shoulder-to-shoulder with fellow executioners? Do we dilute our personal responsibility and personal cognitive dissonance?

It is not always politically correct to say that peace and compassion should be exercised in some personal and global situations.  It will not win you a popularity contest.

In an article on this site, we discuss the notion of refraining from voicing opinions about issues or situations of which we know nothing.  But, we all do that.  Our jury system counts on that.  We are specifically removed from cases in which we DO have personal or business experience that may impact the case.  In fact, the more we know and experience, the less we are wanted on a jury.  Biased with first-hand knowledge and experience.

I've been called to jury duty again.  I get called to serve every year without fail.  If you believe in the concept that we bring about events in life that we dread or fear, time and time again, until we deal with our issues, I am an example for you.  Judgment.  A concept that I dread delivering when I am not the individual impacted by the horribly painful deeds of a perpetrator.  Most recently, following the Sandy Hook Elementary shootings, we saw Robbie Parker, father of 6-year-old Emilie Parker, express compassion in a situation requiring supernatural fortitude.

I have lived, forever grateful, that there are laws and law enforcers in the world.  I am extremely grateful that we have willing jurors who actively participate in our system as well as the "couch critics" who are steadfast and confident in their own determination of meting out punishment.  I get hung up in the details.  I get tied up in the contradictions.  And...I feel "who am I to say" what punishment fits the crime.  The victim may be sitting across from me in the courtroom or in another country.  I'm being asked to give my opinion in something I know nothing about and worse than that...I'm not the one in agony.

It would be easy for me to crusade in the name of peace and compassion.  It would be easy for me to dole out righteous punishment.  Neither would give me peace.

How many wars are fought in the name of peace and compassion?

Even the youngest of all have a sense of what is "right".  Even the weakest and meekest know peace, compassion, fairness, and goodness when they see it.  No matter how rudimentary their understanding may be.

In The Moral Life of Babies, Professor of Psychology, Paul Bloom of Yale University, discusses his research.

Morality... is a synthesis of the biological and the cultural, of the unlearned, the discovered and the invented. Babies possess certain moral foundations — the capacity and willingness to judge the actions of others, some sense of justice, gut responses to altruism and nastiness. Regardless of how smart we are, if we didn’t start with this basic apparatus, we would be nothing more than amoral agents, ruthlessly driven to pursue our self-interest.

Babies have an understanding of morality and we can be grateful for that.  In our  "adult wisdom", we understand when morals are conditional?  Is maturity knowing when compassion and kindness are no longer appropriate?

When legal and/or political "paperwork" is in order, are we "free and covered" to proceed without honoring our code for a compassionate response?  With the proper documentation, our transgressions from the natural, biological, innate moral code can be usurped.  Our "grown-up, "mature" cultural moral code includes a clause to dismiss ethics and compassion for all?  When is "do unto others" dismissed and retribution the "right" course of action?

Do peace and compassion "begin with me"?  I like to believe so.

I like to believe we are all active participants in the "ripple".  But, when circumstances change, when there are numerous victims involved, when countries are threatened, are we all Charlie Brown?  Is our moral code essentially Lucy's football?

Contracts and declarations cover our departure from the moral code?

If we speak of peace and compassion on a global scale... our voice may not only be ignored, but likely censored if it is determined that the "unrest" that "peace talk" may bring will put lives at stake.  No small irony.  Sometimes, "peace and compassion talk" can be the greatest threat of all.

Journalism, in particular, has always courageously treaded in this territory.  Journalists hear the not-too-subtle message from powers that be, "Hush.  We have our 'reasons' to depart from (ethical conduct) here".  Of course, ethical conduct gets redefined.  Truth and fairness get redefined.  Retaliation and retribution may now BE ethical.  Suddenly, what is in the "public interest" and what will save lives (peace and compassion) is no longer the answer.  Fundamental TRUTH itself has changed.  Reality changes.  Peace and compassion are not PC.

Many single, courageous voices in history have proven the dangers of peace and compassion.  In fact, peace and compassion may be the most dangerous and fearless position of all.

Those who walk the walk, and talk the talk, following these standards and codes are the most steadfast of all.  In fact, with no weapon and no retribution, those who live lives of complete peace and compassion hold the greatest power and make the greatest lasting changes we all enjoy long after their often-too-soon departure.

Often, they give their lives staying true to what is good, right, peaceful, and compassionate.  Staying true to our nature.  With or without realizing it, they remain the greatest threat.  Their weapon.  Peace and compassion.  Perhaps more feared than any automatic weapon or drone strike.  If they speak about peace and compassion, they are not PC.  Perhaps, most unfortunate of all, they are completely misunderstood.  They are not heard to be speaking out for saving the lives of ALL of those in harm's way.

To those who don't understand the deepest meaning of peace and compassion, peace and compassion in certain instances, under certain conditions, is just not PC.  At some point, I think most of us fall into that category.  Most of us can only aspire to become more like Robbie Parker, father of Emilie.

But, peace and compassion is for all.  Peace and compassion is for those fighting in the name of peace and compassion.  Peace and compassion needs to come out from the closet and be spoken about in ALL circumstances.  

We are only human.  But, we have people speaking and living with higher ideals.  Higher moral codes are possible.  Are we using excuses?  Reasons?  Is there an excuse to stray from what is "right"?

We knew what was fair and right from the beginning.  As babies, we had a moral compass.  What are we so afraid of now?

Freedom is at stake.  Are we "free" at all when we react against our morals and ethics and lose ourselves to something we know to be wrong in the first place?  Are we prisoners and victims for the offenders?  Controlled by their deeds?  Or, are we pioneers and free to act true to ourselves?  As is true in so much of life...we may need to look to the children.

Chicken and onion pasta: a quick, great tasting dinner

Looking for a great tasting, healthy, inexpensive and most importantly quick dinner? Here's a great one, from a college student who's looking for something that is more than a peanut butter sandwich but nothing too fancy to get in the way of that late night studying or whatever else you have going on!

Ingredients:

30 oz of tomato sauce

3-4 chicken breasts, skinless and boneless

1 large white onion

(Add spices as desired: basil and oregano are two great ones if you have them in the cabinet!)

1 pound of thin or regular spaghetti pasta

Cooking instructions:

Boil chicken for 20-25 minutes

Cut onion and cook until they begin to get clear

Add tomato sauce and keep at simmer until chicken is ready

When chicken is ready, cut into small pieces and add to the sauce

Boil pasta for 8-12 minutes (adding after water is at a boil)

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Then enjoy! This dinner is good for about 4-5 servings. Great side dishes for this that I use are garlic bread and salads.