Cats may not make the pain go away, but their demands for attention will take your mind off of your pain for brief little while thus making you feel slightly better.
Tag Archives: Gratitude
Saith Me… Old Books
Over the past couple of years, I started collecting old books, not books with great potential for monetary appreciation or the need for insurance policies. Certainly not books to be kept behind the safety of glass, but books conveying the ideas of past generations on common subjects like knitting. My collection began with an out-of-print sequel to a more famous literary novel. The book was worn and tattered but satisfied the craving to know “what happened next.”
The ease in which this book was purchased made me curious to see what else I could find. School books dating to 1900 led to the fascinating discovery that young women of that “new” century did not necessarily like the idea of home economics and needed encouragement through a form of literary fiction; the ancestor of the self-help TV programming.
Recently an online sale of old books caught my eye and I wondered if I could find some gems to help with a paper I am working on for class. Justifying the purchase as an early Christmas present, I sifted and sorted (electronically of course) through the stacks of old books. When my purchases arrived I sorted them into the now and later stacks with the now joining me in my office for study.
One particularly delightful old book just begged for perusal and offered up a poignant quote, but the author had been hesitant to sign his name, making citation difficult. No author, no editor just a mysterious professional title. How very odd and rather mysterious (politically mysterious as it would turn out).
However it seems I was not the only one who had questioned this author’s identity. In 1955 the book first left the original owner’s hands and a note had been written in the front cover explaining the personal, though cryptic inscription. The author’s name was written by hand by the bookstore agent purchasing the book, along with a brief explanation of the book’s purchase. The book buyer also hand wrote the resale price of $.50, quite the sum I am sure.
Upon conducting a quick internet search, I verified the accuracy of the author’s name and thereby realized that my copy had been a gift from the author to some initialed friend. In addition to being the author of multiple books on diplomacy, the mysterious man who published his first book anonymously had been a U.S. ambassador in the years that followed the publication.
Old books certainly have stories to tell.
Music of the Season – Seeking Joy
Now that Halloween is over I can listen to Holiday Music again. (I say Holiday because I love Winter Music as well as Christmas Music.)
I figure the more happy music I listen to the more of the ugliness of the world I can tune out. Not ignore the world, but just buffer myself from it.
I believe completely in being informed, reading and researching and learning, but I also believe I must actively seek joy rather than waiting for someone find it for me.
Happiness does not come from ignorance, but from knowledge. Knowledge is not always pleasant, but understanding is the first step to doing something, making a change.
Winter Music, Holiday Music and Christmas Music simply makes the doing so much more fun. Whether it is service for others or simply cleaning my own house, the quest for joy can be just a melody away.
Saith Me… The Hardened Heart
When the hearts of the many are hardened and are accepting of hate, it is then there will be woe among mankind and iniquity will prevail.
– Pioneer Lady
Gandhi described anger and intolerance as being the enemies of correct understanding, but they are also the enemies of reason. They spread misunderstanding.
People will disagree on principles, or on the details of an issue, but that is not the same as standing on misinformation, calling it truth, and asserting all others are wrong in their beliefs. Correct understanding therefor is not just the ability to understand, but the ability to understand the opposition and the ability to reason rather than simply rationalize.
Why I write…
Why do we write in blogs, journals, or memoirs? Is it because we like to see our ideas take shape, or think our messages are profound or revolutionary? Or do we simply write with the hope that they will have value today or tomorrow, have value to or for someone we will probably never meet?
A few weeks ago, a professor asked the question of why should we study history, but the real question, for me at least, is why do we write history? Why do we write our own history in our blogs, journals, and memoirs, a written record of our thoughts and actions? I think we write for three reasons. The first, we hope we are interesting and hope our activities will be of interest to others. The second, we hope that by writing our experiences down, we will learn lessons from our experiences and maybe others will learn from us as well. Third, we do not want to forget our experiences or be forgotten.
These are all valid reasons to write, but a great man taught me one other reason to write. He taught me that we can serve others through our writing, through our research, and through our records. Not just through the lessons or experiences we share, but through the lives of others we preserve through written record.
This great man, great to me at least, passed away two days ago. He had dedicated his retired years to gathering and recording history; specifically the history of his ancestors. Through his work, volumes of information became available to his relatives and to the public. He was never famous and never sought fame, but in certain circles, he was well known and well loved. Most of the histories he wrote were the histories of others, but upon his family’s request he wrote of his own youth and of his experiences as a World War Two POW. When he wrote of his journey in life, it was not to gain fame or attention, but simply to leave a record; a humble record of a man who spent his life serving. Through his life, he served his family, his faith, and his nation.
He set the bar high for those of us who follow, but in doing so he taught us the value of service and the blessings that service brings to our fellow man, to our family, and to ourselves. For in blessing others, he was truly blessed; in loving others he was loved in return.
So why do I write, simply put, to emulate in my own way a great man – I write with an attempt to serve others.
A Great-Uncle and a Great Man!
Saith Me… Liberal Arts Education
This morning one of my college alumnae Facebook groups asked how we have used our liberal arts educations. This was my reply…
Well, I have worked for a few different states, in jobs I could never have imagined, when I was in school, occupying upon graduation, but it has been my sixteen year stint as a mom and my twelve years as a homeschool teacher in which my education has been most useful. Randolph-Macon Woman’s College taught me that there is intelligence and there is wisdom, and that it takes both to succeed. It certainly takes both to raise the next generation with any chance of survival. For it is clear they are smarter than we, but it rests on us to teach them wisdom.
Embracing Identity Through The Written Word
To most of the world, my son seems sullen and distant, but he deeply loves mankind and mourns for their troubles. His sullen appearance is just the outward refection of his deep concerns for the sorrows of man and his passionate desire to assist the downtrodden.
To most of the world, my daughter is sweet and domestic, but she is the ferocious defender the weak. If there is a crusade to join, an injustice to correct, my daughter’s dimples and giggles are quickly replaced by a threatening growl and a merciless strike.
The world seldom sees my children’s true nature, for in their youth they still hide their identity, feeling it offers them protection. But every so often they let down their guard and the world sees their nature. Often it is through their writings.
Teaching my children to write has been my goal, not simply for the normal communication reasons, but because writing is an outlet for them to freely express their nature. My son has learned to share ideas, life lessons, and words of compassion through writing. My daughter has learned to replace her fists with words. They are young and their skills are still in need of refining, but when their causes are just, their skills show a refinement beyond their age.
My job has not been to give them an identity, but allow them to find and embrace their own. This week they have both proven they have learned from me, but are not restricted by me. This makes me at peace.
Saith Me… Integrity
Integrity is not simply standing up against the actions of others.
Integrity is STANDING TALL and BEING YOURSELF despite
the attitudes and the actions of others.
We Need a Hero
I went to bed last night thinking how sad it is the way people go about fitting in with a crowd, often putting down others to do so. Popularity is a mighty strong enticement for our youth. We try to teach them to ‘be themselves’ and not copy the behavior of others.
As adults, do we follow the same advice? In our attempts to gain the favor of one group, do we feel we must offend someone else?
As youth, our influence on others is often limited, either by locale or by relative anonymity, but our adult influence is often greater than we realize.
It is probably safe to say that we all slip-up time to time by putting down others in order to fit in with a crowd, but do we take the time to rectify our actions? When we get caught, do we apologize? Do we do the very thing we ask our children to do? Or do we feel we are justified in our speech or actions more than our children are?
During an election, much will be said that will irritate others. Much will be said for the shear campaign value of it. This is, and has been, part of our political culture, but is there a line we cross when we move from putting down our opponent and instead put down our opponent’s followers, the very people we want to represent?
While Mitt Romney is the latest to be called out for this, by no means is he the first to attempt gaining favor of a smaller group of citizens by insulting a larger group. Giving him the benefit of the doubt, I am going to conclude that if one of his children or grandchildren acted in a similar manner, he would require them to make amends. This is probably the greatest reason for my sadness today. For as a fellow Christian, especially as a fellow Mormon, and certainly as a fellow citizen, I recognize most of us make mistakes such as Romney’s, and most of us struggle to make amends.
The expectation of doing what is right should be an equal expectation placed on all of us, but sometimes I wonder if it is of greater importance for those with a greater audience to hold a higher standard of themselves than they might expect of others. Making mistakes is part of human nature, but amending one’s mistakes is somewhat divine. It shows greater character and a greater humility. It should not be seen as a weakness, while often it is labeled as such by detractors. But these same detractors are the ones who would require we gain their favor by insulting and offending in the first place.
So I went to bed last night feeling sad, but this morning I woke up with a song running through my head, a song that says, “I need a hero!” Maybe instead of counting the number of mistakes a person makes in their life, we should spend more time evaluating their reaction once they have made a mistake. For a hero is not a perfect person, but is rather a humble person willing to serve others and who attempts to make amends for their mistakes. For while they may often seem to fall short of our standards, they should never fall short of their standards without making amends.
Other YouTube versions of Holding Out For A Hero:
Tribute for Peace (this one chokes me up, but it is a must see)
If anyone can find a link to the Paramount VHS promo, the romantic one not the violent one, could you please share it with me.
Meet the Mooch
I have just found out that I am a mooch on the American Dream.
Worse yet, I am a mooch many times over: a military wife living off of a government pay check and receiving government healthcare, a stay-at-home mom not paying taxes, and a recipient of government assisted education. (But at least I don’t mooch off of the public school system with my kids, right?)
And here, I thought that by supporting my husband, and raising my kids to be productive members of society, I was part of the American Dream. But maybe I was just a dreaming.
Maybe I was wrong all along in not realizing the only American Dream that matters is how large your bank account is when you die?
Or maybe the other guys have it all wrong…
Pithy Ponderings 