I Don’t Understand

(Mosaic by Pam Goode)

There are so many people walking in my neighborhood. They walk for relief, to exercise their pups, to grab at the sun, for a bit of human contact, to fill and empty and refill their lungs, to live, to be life, to embrace the simple and push aside the rest.

It seems so lovely, and yet …. sometimes I wonder at this other life we live.

I wonder why we can’t halt the world at its simplest and most pure — even for a moment — and revel in it enough to get us through until the next human-made catastrophe.

I don’t understand why some have the desire to overpower. Why the rush to war … or even the acceptance of war? I don’t understand how to turn a blind eye to madness just because it’s not on my turf.

I don’t understand why or how we move from “different” to “hate.”

I don’t understand the need to control, to subjugate. I don’t understand the ego boost of physically overpowering another human being just because you can.

We’re all capable of self control, even when some part of us struggles with it.

When I was young, I believed that if I looked closely at all the horror and pain that I saw around me and really felt it, then karma would be served and I wouldn’t have to live the horror myself. I’ve been lucky there.

And yet it isn’t unusual to see horror bestowed on the gentlest and most generous.

I don’t understand.

I don’t understand.

Why can’t we all look at a human being and see a human being?

Happy . . . Something

RascalIt’s my favorite season of the year, and I’m speechless. I used to carry on in December with a twinkly grin and a ready, “Merry Christmas!”, one of the few times of the year when I didn’t have to depend on faulty hearing to know what people were saying, because everyone was simply wishing you happiness, family, and sharing. Now, older certainly and wiser mostly, I just smile and nod. I don’t like it. It doesn’t feel good. Continue reading

The Power of Thought

I was sitting on the Duke quad quite a few years ago when a guy in a black trench coat walked up and sat down beside me. I recognized him from my Philosophy class, but we had never spoken and I didn’t know his name. He asked me out. Continue reading

Eden at Edisto

Edisto Road

Love or hate The South, it just doesn’t get much lovelier (or haunting, haunted, seductive, or psychically altering) than this. I took the above photograph along a back road on Edisto Island. There’s no resort around the bend; in fact, Edisto Beach doesn’t boast a single hotel. Rent a cottage, a cabin in the woods, or snare a beachfront campsite and stare into these trees for an hour or a day, and tell me your soul hasn’t been abducted, pinned and wriggling to the wall.

Every Man is an Island


I’m using again the fabulously illustrative art of Patricia Helsing, because it so perfectly sums up my thoughts over the past week. No doubt it was inspired by John Donne’s famous quote written over 400 years ago, but in this age of Every Man for Himself, It’s All About Me, What About My Needs, and Dog Eat Dog, what is our current concept of the Self in relation to Others?

If you’re a Lostie, and I am, you know that Other is a synonym for Evil. Continue reading

Free Rice Feeds Body and Mind

Free RiceAccording to the UN, about 25,000 people die each day from hunger or hunger-related causes. www.freerice.com donates ten grains for each correct answer on this get-smart website. Learn a little; give a lot. I admit to loving school as a child, so maybe I’m not a good judge of “fun,” but I played this for an hour, donated 1630 grains of rice, and learned Continue reading