Review and Renewal

I've been feeling rather mortal lately.  Yeah, not sick but frail.  

We are all going to die.  It's the end of life as we know it in this time-space continuum.  I've seen good deaths and I've seen some not so good.  I don't fear death, as my friend Tom W. says, I do fear what leads up to it.  

And honestly, I fear losing control of how all this will play out.  In fact there is no ability to control how life plays out including the end of life.  

So I am reopening Diverse Mind now to serve as a journal of this part of the journey.

I joyfully add that my life is just fine the way it is and always has been. I would not change any of it.  I've come to see my life as a whole rather than a mishmash of isolated incidences, some outstanding and some truly cringe-worthy.  The good outweighs the lapses from goodness.  The bad is just that, bad choices and behaviors that adversely affect others as well as myself.  I don't have the perspective to judge myself; I leave it to our Creator, our Spirit of the universe, our Mother Nature, Whomever.

I am living a joyful life and I am in no hurry to leave.  I also choose to accept that end of life stuff is going to take some work, some courage, and some brass ones to meet my wishes. I want to make choices for my life care in spite of medicos, insurers and governing forces like Medicare. I may think differently about medical care than those soul crushing 'health care' forces.

But it is my life, my wellness choices, and my body!  Hang on folks; we are in for a good ride.  

Whew!  I already feel better.      

Driving to Delaware

After the Central Route of Run for the Wall left Lewisburg WV for Arlington National Cemetery, I struck out across Virginia and Maryland toward New Castle, Delaware.  It was a beautiful day and I took my time, enjoying the vibrant green landscapes so different from Sonora Desert coloration.

I got to the outskirts of Washington, DC, and realized.... Oh oh, I don't want to go there. I've nothing against our nation's capital except for its famously confusing traffic patterns.  I turned south instead of north on the beltway, had to reverse to get myself headed in the right direction, and prepared to cross big water into Delaware. 

This draft above is old news.... Like roughly five years ago.  I've dredged it out of the draft folder to publish belatedly.

Suffice it to say, the trip was lovely and I arrived in New Castle to visit a long time friend.  All in all a good trip.      

RESPECT! Maybe More Important than Love

I bow to the voiced wishes from people based on respect more than any other factor.

Sociologically I was raised to respect men, people with college degrees, teachers, clergy, doctors and nurses--in other words, my betters.  I was raised to admire members of the military (which wrongly went out the window during the war in Vietnam),  police and firefighters, and other public servants--even (gasp!) politicians.  Yes, sir or ma'am.  No, sir or ma'am.  

As an adult my respect filter became skewed by arrogance and cynicism and generally bad manners associated with alcohol consumption and not well corrected in early sobriety.  To this day it's a character defect that pops up repeatedly.

Some examples:

  My AA friend and sponsor is debilitated by cognitive and memory problems.  She is progressively more vague.  When she was asked to speak at a meeting, MaryBeth brought a comfortable chair and two other friends sat with her and helped with reminiscences of her start in AA (52 years before) and her sobriety stories since. MaryBeth especially asked the meeting chair (me) if this was okay to do.  Without a thought I said, sure!  I respect MaryBeth.  No thought process required.  (college, sober longer than I am by years, etc.)

  When long time friend Jim moved in, I painstakingly established a budget upon which we could agree.  Part of household expenses were paid through the bank; others by cash.  I became so enamored of my handiwork, that I pitched a fit when Jim used his debit card instead of cash at the grocery store.  I mean Pitched. A. Fit.  (a man but sober only a little longer than I am, etc.)  No thought at all; no respect.  By evening, I was sorry I'd snarled at him.  I couldn't sleep and the next morning I made amends with tears in my eyes.  Since then I have done my best to be respectful in thought, word and deed.  It isn't perfect, I'm sure.  Honestly, it helps that he's a man.  That 1940's and 50's upbringing valued men over women pretty distinctly.  

  In other relationships I have lacked even a superficial respect for friends and partners.  I tend to believe I know what's better for them (the height of arrogance).  I lorded it over people I supposedly loved.  It wasn't until the last five or six years that I've realized that most of my partners had disabilities, problems that (falsely) elevated me to martyred caregiver. Needless to say, this was not a healthy relationship for them or for me.  

Now I'd rather not be in a relationship than in such an unhealthy one.

What if we taught our children more about the importance of RESPECT than about love?

Let us consider what might be different if religions, especially Christianity, stressed "Respect one another, as I have respected you."

I like to smile and thank all the people whom I encounter day to day: the dog groomer, my barrista, the bank teller and assistant manager who helped me with a problem, the lady at the grocery store and the checkout clerk, and Jim.  I am gradually learning to do this respectfully.

Now I realize how respect and humility are crucial in all relationships. Yeah, at the age of 70!

R * E * S * P * E * C * T

       

God Speaks--Then and Now

Just a wild guess, but I'm thinking that prophets of Biblical times really heard the voice of God.

After all they had fewer distractions than our time does. As I type this I'm listening to an old episode of NCIS and thinking what to type next.  I spend almost NO time without sensory stimulation.  NO time to listen to my heart, to my conscience, to the still small voice within.  NO time for meditation.  

Tom Weston taught us to use breathing to measure space between paragraphs, then within sentences, then between phrases and finally, between words.  I would choose Twenty-four Hours for text, but Bible or Big Book would do nicely.  

This calls for no extraneous sensory input and focused attention on print and breath.

Tom also said--and this comes first!--ask God for help.

Then read, breathe, read, breathe, read breathe refining on repetitions.

Then be still for a few minutes.

God is still speaking. Be still and know.

The Berlin Wall

Today is the anniversary of "The Fall of the Berlin Wall."  The building and demolition of the Berlin Wall is within my lifetime.  As a descendant of Germany (and other places) I took interest in this phenomenon of post World War II geopolitical turmoil. For the sake of accuracy, the wall did not all come down on this date.  In fact the majority of demolition didn't start until the next year and took a long time to complete.  It was begun in 1961 and was symbolically torn down this date in 1989. 

It was built to keep East Germans out of West Berlin.  Berlin was the divided city, previous capital of unified Germany.  It sat smack dab in the middle of partitioned East Germany.  The western part of the city was part of West Germany.  It was thought of as free Germany, free economy, free movement, free press, free assembly, even though it was occupied by English, French and American forces.  It's post war economy picked up steam and grew quite well after the war.  Meantime, East Germany was occupied by United Soviet Socialist Republic forces and was politically and economically managed into poverty.  East Germans with little hope of economic recovery wanted out.  Hence the wall.

The wall was appallingly successful in separating East from West, yet when the wall went down and Germany was reunified, West Germany had to bolster and rebuild eastern Germany's economy.  From the hardship of reunification and stabilizing a unified economy, Germany has emerged as the strongest economy in Europe. 
Today in the United States we talk about building a wall to keep immigrants from crossing from other countries.  What have we learned from other peoples' experience?  Can we skip the wall and help build Mexico and Central America's economy instead?

  
Just a thought.  

  

 

Meditation on "As He died to make men holy, let us die to make men free...."

Sometimes I am tapped on the mental shoulder to call attention to a thought from....God?

This morning these words (and the tune) ran through my mind.  I ignored it.  Again it played.  Again I ignored.  Again....   These words are from the Battle Hymn of the Republic.  They are in the last verse, not the first.  I don't remember last verses.  It was a tap on my mental shoulder.  So I put my pencil down and thought.

This is a song from the civil war between the states, a war that was ostensibly about northern states wanting to free slaves and southern states that wanted to continue slavery. It is a blatant mishmash of religion and politics wrapped in patriotic self-righteousness.  It bears remembering here that history is written by victors.  This song survives and thrives because its re-write by Julia Ward Howe is an anthem of the northern states.

The Battle Hymn of the Republic is a war song, and it is magnificent.  I've never listened to it and failed to be moved deeply.  I remember singing it with Lincoln Nebraska's All-School Choral Festival as the finale.  I've sung it in churches, yes with all verses.  As a war song, a song to inspire recruitment, a song to draw patriotic support of war, it excels. 

My problem is who wants war? Why do we feel we must impose our values and standards on other cultures?  Every war is about one faction believing it is right and the other is wrong.  It is often more for economic or religious reasons than anything else.  It's the religious based reasons that bother  me the most.  The civil war in America was more about economics than social justice, but it was clothed in religious fervor and righteousness as evidenced by this hymn.  

Today we have wars sprouting up no differently than our civil war.  America feels the need to impose its values on other cultures.  America stirs the pot and then wonders why it boils over.  We are not the only ones.  Russia wants its satellite nations back, so into The Ukraine they go.  Will others be next?  Yes.  Will we interfere?  Yes.

Apparently we cannot help ourselves.

My friend Louella Marshall once said, there will always be war.  Idealist that I am, I did not want to believe her.  But she is wise.  She has listened to her taps on the mental shoulder more purposefully than I.  She's right.  We cannot help ourselves.     

  

Rainelle At Last!

Off to Rainelle, West Virginia!

The Central Route of Run for the Wall was due to arrive in Rainelle just before lunchtime. My goal was to get to Rainelle before David (aka Papa Smurf) and Kay (aka Nine Mile) got there.  I enjoyed the complementary breakfast at the hotel and, despite the good weather, I chose the easier interstate route.  There  was only one shadow on the horizon of good planning: I had the precursor sensations of an on-coming migraine headache.  Unwilling to alter my plans, I bulled ahead without pausing to medicate.  

By the time I reached Rainelle I had a gloriously blinding headache.  I was determined to stick it out.  I exited the car forgetting the all important copy of Veterans Reign in Their Own Parade.  My intent was to use it to collect autographs of riders and Rainelle citizens. Headaches can cause faulty thinking and dopey behavior and mine was clipping my mental wings.

I sought out the staging crew who had arrived early to help prepare for the Run riders' parade into town.  I found a guy named Vapors and his pal, Crash.  These nicknames are hard earned.  Vapors ran out of gas to earn his name.  Crash?  Yeah, probably crashed to earn it!  I didn't ask.  Vapors and Crash helped me find an ideal place for me to park my carcass for the parade.  They were thoughtful and considerate, taking into account my physical limitations.  They described how they platoons would go well into town and turn back to come by the shiny new elementary school.  

I was in a good spot to watch for Dave and Kay.  They were platoon leader and tail gunner of Platoon 8, so I got used to spotting the orange blaze marking platoon leaders' bikes.  Did I see Platoon 8 in orange?  No.  Did I see David to recognize him?  No.  Did I see the huge stuffed Papa Smurf on the back of Dave's bike?  Oh yes!  Impossible to miss!  So I watched the parade and as leading platoons returned to the school, I determined that #8 would not quite make it back to where I was sitting.  

I stood and walked along until I spotted them parking their bikes.  I was trying to sneak up to surprise them, but eagle-eye Kay saw me in her peripheral vision and squawked loudly, "AUNT PAT!!"  Every head in a 50 foot radius turned to see Kay and Aunt Pat, but David....

I got to surprise him!

As much as I wanted to spend the afternoon with them, I needed to wind down and shake the migraine.  I had the joyful fun of surprising them and I was delighted at their reaction. They were genuinely tickled that I'd come to see them and to see Rainelle.  And I'd wanted to see this love fest between bikers and school kids.  My dream had been realized.

I drove back to Lewisburg, where the Run riders spend their last night on the road.  I asked if the hotel had a room available, believing it wasn't possible.  Not only did they have a room, they gave me the one next to Dave and Kay's.  The perfect end to a delightful day.  I drank lots of water, took a sumatriptan and slept for several hours.  

By nightfall the Run bikers were partying hearty.  It was a cinch that I'd feel much better in the morning than they would.  And that's the truth!  

Trek To Charleston, Virginia

Jim dropped me off at the airport as the sun was rising.  I normally consider this to be the middle of the night.  I checked my little suitcase with more than the normal trepidation, since I'd be transferring planes in Atlanta to get Richmond.  I took advantage of wheel chair service gratefully.  

Richmond?  Yes, not the smartest choice for my ultimate destination.  My goal was to get most of the way to Rainelle, West Virginia on Wednesday.  Charleston would have been a better choice.  Looking at a map would have been helpful.  And I think I did.  Oh well, lighten up, as Tom would remind me.  

Both flights and the transfer were uneventful and I checked out a cute little car that reminded me of a computer mouse from Budget RAC.  I asked if there was anything about the car that I should know, thinking its modern equipage might be well beyond the technology of Jim's car.  No, no.  No surprises.  Hrrmph!  I mistakenly drove in third gear all the way to Richmond, before I discovered how the shift level slid sideways to full drive.  As for equipage, it featured a radio too complicated for me to master and crank-'em-up windows.  But it drove well and consumed much less gas than I'm used to.  

I arrived at my hotel as the sun was setting, excellent timing!  I reviewed my driving options for getting to Rainelle and wrote down two routes, one more direct and one more scenic.  I decided if weather was good, I'd try the scenic roads.  Otherwise I'd stay on the interstate highway as far as possible.  Just as the reserved car had been ready for me, so was my room at the inn.  A Quality Inn, I think it was.

A day of travel and a night of jittery anticipation.  I didn't sleep the best, but I felt fairly rested as I prepared to surprise David and Kay in Rainelle.   

To be continued...just like life itself!  

RFTW 2014 & Rocking Around the Cradle of America

Run for the Wall 2014 from California to Washington DC

....takes place in May.  Last year I reported my trip in September.  This year I'm jumping right on it in August.  Last year featured photographs; this year not so much.  Maybe later in the story.  Last year Jim was with me; this year he stayed home with Sweetie and Happy, the canine kids.  Last year we drove to Holbrook; this year I flew to Richmond Virginia.  Last year it was Arizona only; this year Virginia, West Virginia, Maryland, Delaware (Jessop's Tavern--Yes!), and back to Virginia.  Last year two days; this year 5 days.

So I wanted to surprise David (my brother, aka Papa Smurf) and Kay (my niece, aka Nine Mile) somewhere along the Central Route of the Run.  I also wanted to see the phenomenon of Rainelle WV--school children, volunteer fire department, shopkeepers, the PTA for Rainelle Elementary--turning out to welcome Central Route riders as they do every year.  A symbiotic relationship between RFTW riders and Rainelle kids has formed and strengthened each year.  There is even a book about it, Veterans Reign In  Their Own Parade.  You can find it here or at the ubiquitous amazon.com.

I planned ahead making airline and 1st night hotel reservations in February.  Sometime after that Papa Smurf and Nine Mile put Phoenix on their itinerary for their trip from Denver to Fontana and Rancho Cucamonga California.  It was my pleasure to take them to dinner at Texaz Grill and to have them join us for pizza and cards the following evening.  And the whole time, I had to watch my mouth to keep my secret a secret!

The Universe reminds me that everyday practice of a skill builds to the goal.....

So more tomorrow!  Wait until we get to the cradle rocking.

  

Run For the Wall 2013

Run For the Wall 2013

Central Route

"We Ride for Those Who Cannot"

Remembering those Vietnam veterans yet unaccounted for, whether

 prisoners of war or missing in action. 

Every year hundreds of Vietnam era veterans gather in California to "ride for those who can't".  My brother is one of them.  In recent years more veterans have joined the RFTW ride to Washington DC, veterans of Bosnia, Desert Storm, the Gulf War (Iraq) and lately young vets from the on-going conflict in Afghanistan.

This year RFTW noted that the Vietnam War ended 37 years ago.  This was the 25th year that vets rode in remembrance of war losses.  The POWs and MIAs were their fellow service members, soldiers, sailors, marines, and airmen who remain unaccounted for.

I'd listen to my brother's stories about the ride and one year I went up to Westminster Colorado to see him off for his ride.  It wasn't his first year, but it was early enough in his participation that he was joining the ride at their overnight stop in Limon Colorado.

 He now has a long strip of annual participation ribbons on his leather vest to go with his reversed FNG button.  For several years it has been his honor to ride from Rancho Cucamonga California in service to the run as a staging crew member, fuel guy, tail gunner, and this year assistant platoon leader.

I figured it was time to see the Run for the Wall in action. American Legion Post 37 in Holbrook Arizona hosts the Run for lunch on their second day. 

Friend Jim G and I traveled to Holbrook the day before so we would be rested up for the rolling thunder of arriving riders. We bought a burger, fries and a coke (supersized) for my brother and invited ourselves to sit with a family right across from the post in the shade of their tree.  

This was the first time for Jim and really the first time mid-run for me.  We had read up on the RFTW website to get an idea of the whole picture.

David Klemme, USMC (Ret), aka Papa Smurf, shows me his Honda Gold Wing after eating his BK lunch, and we looked through the mass of bikes parked neatly along the curbs, then double parked, then triple parked for TWO blocks.  At this point, Day 2, there are already over 400 participants.

They are waiting in line for chow or already chowing down lunch. Most bikes sport American and POW/MIA flags.  This lead  

bike in the foreground has two flag masts for larger flags.  They are deployed for arrivals, but are not left up when they are unattended.  

Participants are of all ages.

Below are several more pictures that remind me of the feelings of this trip.  I felt proud.  I felt the power of reconciliation.  I felt forgiven and blessed. Riders gave me several gifts, a beaded flag key chain, an RFTW 2013 pin, and a copper penny with a cross stamped from it.

Bikes are of all types.

Many thanks to American Legion Post 37 for their Hospitality!

  

Coach Sweetie

"Get down here and Just Do It!!"

x

"Less Salt and More Exercise"

That's what my Nurse Practitioner advised me at my last visit.   What a witch.  Or would that be Nurse Wactitioner?

She's right of course.  But the Ex- word, while not four letter, is indeed an unwelcome word in my vocabulary.

Exer....exerci....exercise.  Yeah, that's the ticket.  

Last Wednesday night a friend and I were talking about health related issues and I spoke my new truth.  I really need to exercise.  I've been urging her to complete a regimen involving 90 reps in 90 days.  (Nothing anonymous here.)  It occurred to me that I could stand 90 reps of exercise in 90 days myself.

Thursday, April 25, I began and so far, so good.  Oh yeah.  Less salt.  I'm sure if I don't improve in 90 days, Nature will gladly refund my misery.  

Creator of all that is good, including me, help me to keep my commitment and resolve.  Thank you!

Pittosporum In Bloom

Yes, Virginia, there is Pittosporum.  And here it is blooming in my garden:

Said to be a pretty boring plant, I choose to keep it anyway.  This was the only 'growing' thing carried forward from before I owned this home.  Sometimes boring can be beautiful.

Let's Hear It for Bisbee Arizona!

Today's Arizona Republic announced that the city council of Bisbee, Arizona has voted to recognize same sex civil unions.  Good for Bisbee in more ways than one!

Tom Horne, our state attorney general, has his ultraconservative panties in a wad along with many other state officials whose places in office seems to hinge on discrimination and bigotry for anyone who isn't white, christian, male, and straight.

I love Bisbee.  As E. J. Montini says, Bisbee is on the right side of history.  I could not pass up my opportunity to comment in a letter to the editor:

Bisbee Arizona, a place where all people are respected equally, has given our state a shining example of good will. Bisbee's choice to to allow same sex civil unions is in sharp contrast to discriminatory state laws and policies. When my out-of-state friends mock Arizona's bigotry in the name of conservatism, I'll recommend they come to visit Bisbee. And I'll visit, too!

Patricia Klemme

Phoenix AZ

 

Calling It Like It Is

In today's Arizona Republic, Doug MacEachern writes:

Obama is Whistling Past the Terrorism Graveyard

"The national media are profoundly incurious about President Barack Obama's lack of ardor for rescuing Americans under siege at Benghazi, Libya.  So we may never know what he did on their behalf. Or didn't do. Three years ago, a Muslim Army officer attacked fellow soldiers at Fort Hood, Texas. The administration insists it was 'workplace violence.'  Not an attack by an al-Qaida ally; certainly not 'terrorism.' Obama wants to ignore terrorism into oblivion."

Here's my take:  

Maybe we should make *less* fuss about small acts of terrorism.  Congress' howling about lack of information about Benghazi shines a spotlight on terrorist action that must be very gratifying to the perpetrators.  

While we are at it, I wish we would develop policies that treat terrorist actions as crime rather than war.  Wars are nationalistic activities usually between nations or ethnicities within nations.  Terrorism is random small group or individual action far more suited for criminal investigation and prosecution.   

For what it's worth....

Pat

Stolen from Grandmere Mimi who stole it from....

This is just too good miss.  My feelings exactly!

College Humor: Gay Men Will Marry Your Girlfriends

Sent to me by several people whose senses of humor I respect:

CollegeHumor's Favorite Funny Videos

Sometimes the humor exceeds the political incorrectness. Thanks go out to Maine and Maryland, who out-and-out voted for marriage equality.  More thanks to Minnesota and Washington, who voted against marriage as a privilege for a protected class.  Enjoy!

You Don't Own Me PSA by Lesley Gore

Lesley Gore approves this message:

So do I!

Economics Made Simple for the 2012 Election

This should be required watching for the entire American electorate.  Hat tip to Rev. Susan Russell for this concise and entertaining lesson:

Remember we must have the congress and local polls who understand this lesson, too.
'Long live the middle class!

Refrigerator Door of the World

I am coming to think of the internet as the world's refrigerator door.

Remember when we were kids and Mom would slap our latest and greatest piece of school art on the door for all to see?  Sure we were only stars in our own kitchen, but we felt good about it.  We wanted to do even better next time.

This blog is like that.  I slap something up occasionally, knowing that practically no one will see it.  But someone might walk by this post and see it.  

I joined a jigsaw puzzle website a few days ago.  It is adaptable to meet my time constraints.  If I have lots of time I can choose to work a puzzle with the maximum number of pieces with the rotations of the pieces randomized.  If I don't have much time I can do the puzzle with fewer pieces and/or the positions randomized, but in their correct rotation.

Then I noticed we players were invited to submit pictures to add to their library.  Ah ha!  Another refrigerator door.  They had a food category with only two pictures in it.  Now if you know me, you know I love good food.  A significant number of my cruise ship photos involve food.  So I chose one and submitted it:

And now it is out there for other puzzlers to solve, named Lido Breakfast.

If you like e-jigsaw puzzles, give it a try at Jigsaw Jam.

And feel free to add your writing, art and photos to the Refrigerator Door of the World.