I've been trying to keep my mouth shut lately; trying so hard to not voice my opinion about everything. After all, what does it matter?
Why continue to kindle the fire?

The homily Sunday was about having confidence. I called it over-confidence, about having the thoughts of ourselves that are somewhat better than we really are..it gives us hope, it gives us strength to get the job done. I see that clearly. I agree. Thinking ourselves capable even when we are not sometimes gets us through, gets things done, gets us ahead.
But I think it is only a starter for what should follow and lots of times...nothing follows.
I sometimes think too many are overconfident. to a fault.

How do we really hold ourselves to higher standards? Why do some of us really not care about higher standards? Why do some think we are just fine the way we are, or why would some rather not think about it?

I sometimes wish I did not care.

Maybe it is me who is lacking in self confidence? Maybe I can't accept my silly self for what I am..always trying to be better, think better, make myself better, do the right thing; always feeling the need for integrity, character, and class. What causes my scrutiny?

Doesn't our complacency with some issues in life make things worse? What about crime? Why don't we get more involved? What about obesity? Why don't we stop shoving food down our throats? What about littering? Why do we think we are high and mighty and better and then throw tissues out the window or cups on the sidewalk or let our dogs poop on the sidewalk without picking it up? How does that NOT bother some people?

Is hopeful thinking always of the ignorant?

Parents are now deeply involved, in fact, more involved, than the student, as they hunt and apply for jobs? Parents of college graduates are helping them apply for and interview for jobs as far as calling the companies, arranging interviews, and one parent even sent pictures of her child so the company can SEE who they are reading about and talking to on the phone. This is really beyond calling that friend to put in a good word for your kid. Those types of parents feel so proud of themselves, so helpful to their kids. I think it is absurd. Large corporations are responding positively to this behavior too..of course with their own intentions in mind, trying to find the cream of the crop. Isn't everyone out for themselves? Why do I feel like that behavior is not admirable? Don't they feel like the "kids" should be on their own by now and the fact that they cannot do it without the parents "help" is really a very bad thing not a good thing.

Am I the only one going crazy here?

Elie Wiesel in his book Night describes events that led to his being taken to concentration camps (at 13 years old) and surviving. He describes self centered behavior and disbelief of many prisoners until the very end. He shows us how religious beliefs became enabling methods for not facing reality in certain situations. He told how God was asked and then pleaded with and then blamed and then forgotten. And yet he survived? Why? Was it was a matter of being in the right place and the right time? Was it was his conscious WILL to live? Was it his desire to survive even when he thought he no longer desired life. Was it faith? Or was it just meant to be? And what does that mean?

Writing does help. Sometimes.

Trying to get a point across that I know in my heart the only people who will get it are those that already got it makes me feel unheard. The worst thing a writer can think is that what they have to say is not worth saying or not received.

Elie Wiesel's message in the book "Night" is that we mustn't close our eyes, we mustn't ignore evil that is evident. I cannot help but see those huge looming issues in much smaller increments in everyday life. I can't help but wonder what do all other people think about? Is only nonsense important?
It is, of course, all important..it prevents us from ever thinking about what is real.

Wiesel tells of the tendency of the people to always feel life was returning to normal. The Germans created ghettos for the captured to live before taking them to concentration camps (this was after messengers told those same Jews about the mass killings..of which no one believed)..."little by little life returned to "normal". The barbed wired that encircled us like a wall did not fill us with real fear. In fact, we felt this was not a bad thing; we were entirely among ourselves. ...Most people thought that we would remain in the ghetto until the end of the war, until the arrival of the Red Army. Afterward everything would be as before. The ghetto was ruled by neither German nor Jew; it was ruled by delusion."

HMMM...delusion. Interesting concept.

Isn't this what we do today..we ignore the 8 sodas we drink a day, we ignore that tissue we threw out the window, we think that dog poop that piles around the city is,in fact, invisible, we think our kids can't apply for a job as well without us, Italians get excited and are even proud over mafia shows, blacks (and others too)sing and rap about rape and murder, some of us think our kids look good with tongue rings and over exposed bodies, some of us think it is ok for our very young to vacation on their own, have drinking parties, gamble and generally act irresponsible. Don't we think a big party is in order for an 8th grade graduation, or a sacrament (even when we never practice the sacrament) or turning 13 or 16?

SO there you have it...a few days of zippering up my mouth, a few thoughts of wondering if my ideas are self centered or self absorbed, a few minutes of ignoring my mind's voice and I go nuts.

Completely nuts.

Why do some of us care about nonsense? Is it all about fun? Does it take our minds off things that are too dismal or too hard to think about? Is it nonsense or am I too cynical?

But then, how can we eat junk, drink to oblivion, sit on our fat asses and then when we are diagnosed with cancer or heart problems we're in a tizzy? We then blame an entity that has nothing to do with ourselves? How can we arrange an event for the kids that showers them with nonsense... items that have no meaning, toys that have no thought, food and candy that has no nutritional value? How can we think that a 125 lb third grader is normal? How can we want our kids to love themselves no matter what (isn't that really putting them down?) How can we conduct our days, without doing anything good for our families, our community and ourselves and think we are grand? How can we not see it? Why do we think that arranging so much fun or comfort for our kids is essential or even good for them? Why do we not want our kids to feel any pain? Why can't we say "No or "you are wrong or that dress is too short or those tongue rings are not acceptable?" Please tell me why.

I know we all have different levels of tolerance and different types of expectations but I see a complacent world, lazy people, indiscretion that is not only tolerated but encouraged. I have a problem with so many people throwing litter out their windows, ignoring troubled youths in their neighborhoods, not picking up after their dogs. I have neighbors who think they are the most high around here and their dogs poop in the park, on sidewalks and in their yards and they do not see the need to pick it up and put it in the trash can. I see parents worrying about how happy their kids are as if that is the most important job of a parent. I see other parents who do not see that going to every child's game or dance or prom is not the same as being involved with your child.

AM I over eacting?

I think others are under reacting.

When I read this book Night and received the message that we really all should be more alert, more aware and more involved with the world and the atrocities I could not help but think we are not even aware of the little things let alone the big, big things.
Can't stand the war? Can't stand us helping a country we had "no business helping"...Why? ..so the money we spend on the armed forces could stay here and cushion some lazy ass from going to work or studying or feeling like they are acceptable. Why do so many of us feel like it is wrong to get involved with the atrocities of the world. Read this book "Night" and maybe you will see how so much of the world ignored something that should not have been ignored. Human decency sometimes means not keeping your mouth shut.

It is not acceptable to be 400 pounds, or to throw trash out your window or to spray paint walls or to think you are the only person that matters. It is not acceptable to blame someone for discrimination against you when most of your culture is at fault for creating that prejudice. We should really take that as a challenge to help change our culture, to try to reduce the ignorance of those that are the real cause of discrimination. Tolerance only makes it worse. We should not feel proud of bad behavior.

Then I think, why do bad things cease to change unless tragedy strikes? It seems that we need such drama to reach out, to be strong enough to be fed up. Why do humans have to capacity to go on and on, getting used to so many devastating situations because it is the easier thing to do, it is the way we get ahead.

Closing our eyes is comforting.

"The street resembled fairgrounds deserted in haste. There was a little of everything: suitcases, briefcases, bags, knives, dishes, banknotes, papers, faded portraits. All the things one planned to take along and finally left behind. They had ceased to matter."

How bad does it have to get, how large does the nonsense have to be for it to cease to matter?

A Three Dog Life is a book I enjoyed a great deal. Easy to read and short, too. It reminded me of another book I really liked where the main character was a veterinarian. I have to look it up so I can tell you about it too....author was ? Harris...

When I read a book I like I kill it by dog earring the pages at the bottom to make reminders of what I want to reread, look up, or make reference to...almost half this book's pages are dog eared. It is a memoir and I love that she lives alone with three dogs. I love the references to animals that really give them respect and substance.

Deep Writing by Eric Maisel is a book I got from the library...I had a thought last week that I do not need to buy every single book I'd like to read or look over...then I started this one..I am not even on page 50 and I know I need to own this book. It is all about me. It is so self affirming for me that it is helping me decide my future. A future that I've decided on but can't seem to find my way to it. Everything else seems meaningless. Writing, for me, is done because I have to in order to be fulfilled. It is too compelling to ignore. I can't not do it..but can I do it and other work too?

Libraries are amazing places...imagine that they let you leave with the book! Mind boggling.

Universal themes are interesting to me. Just like the 12 universal dreams...are we really all that alike?

What is it we are all searching for? Why do we look for Oz? Where is it? How is it we all start our grown up years by wanting or trying to get out of there, even if it a place of love? As if we are programmed to search and seek and find and then work our way back. Yearning for home, a content place of being, a state of mind that is settled. What must we go thru in order for boring Kansas to look just fine after all? Where is the place that is like paradise before that apple was plucked from the tree?

I read Salman Rusdie's essay/critic of The Wizard Of Oz and I have to disagree (but of course). He feels the writer meant to show Kansas as a sad decision, and Oz the great escape. But we all write and think from where by which we came...meaning..our past has a lot to do with how we think. Rusdie's physical "home" no longer existed and it wasn't until after his essay was written and many other things published and exemplified that he ever got recognition from his father. Of course, he'd think of England and America as OZ and Bombay as the Kansas he had to get away from. He is an intelligent writer but that doesn't mean we all have to agree with him.

I think he meant that our home is the wonderful place we make with the help of OZ and that Oz shouldn't be so disregarded.

I feel that with all the hope and glitter of the fantastic, home is really where we want to be.

I take the opposite view of that movie and life in general. I feel we are all looking and longing for belonging. We try many things. Moving across the country, looking either for our roots or new roots to plant, marrying, studying, working, sometimes overworking, mating, and reproducing, and general living. We all feel like we either belong or we don't. We all feel like "home" is where we belong. Either the home in our past or the home in our heads. After searching for brains or intelligence, finding courage to make a leap from our starting point, and gaining a heart in order to understand the greater world we get to that big huffing and puffing machine of greatness and we realize it is all smoke and mirrors..we realize the only really place we belong is home and everything we do and all we meet are always compared to where we came from and for many of us that feeling of home is where we want to be..maybe it isn't the exact physical place but it is the feeling of contentment and relaxation.

From A Three Dog Life..."we are all looking for the place we belong. And what is home, anyway, but what we cobble together out of our changing selves?"

For some of us that belonging looks a lot like where we came from and for others it is where we found peace.
Dorothy is one of those characters that emphasizes that universal theme: "there's no place like home"..no matter where that happens to be and I think we all wind up feeling that way.

When we do cohabit and have our own families, the familiar way of doing things, the way we did them growing up, seem right to us and our mates ways sometimes seem foreign. When I care for old, sick men and women they inevitably recall childhood memories and family stories. The importance of their home override any such Oz's they have encountered.

One time I was visiting an elderly lady...she lived in the Italian Market section of the city. Her home was a "trinity" style house..typically this means: one to 2 rooms on each floor..a very small home..at times the kitchen is found in the basement, the living room on the first floor and a bathroom and bedrooms on the second floor. The house was crammed with people. Her granddaughter was visiting for a few days. She had a big house in Voorhees, N.J. Her husband was very successful. Josephine was a nice girl. She sat by her grandmother's side as I changed her dressing on her foot. She was concerned. Every other minute the front door opened and some neighbor or family member came in with soup, pasta, cakes, and bread. Coffee continued to brew at every single visit. The daughters and granddaughters cleaned escarole and string beans and fried cutlets and shaped meat balls. Josephine was happy in jeans and a bare face. Her dark hair was tied up in a pony tail. She was relaxed and hugged and kissed her grandmom. I visited every day. After about 4 days, at the time of my visit, a horn honked from the Mercedes out on the little street, the door opened and a man in a suit and tie bolted in..kissing and hugging everyone he gave a shout up the stairs to "Jo"..the car was waiting. She hurried down, in high heels, make up and shiny jewelry. She was going home. She looked happy but not relaxed. Her eyes filled with tears as she said goodbye and that she'd be back soon for another visit.

We all wish for Oz but we all wind up preferring home.

We all want to go, but we all want to stay just as bad.

Finding that place where longing brings us winds up being home. Universally: "There is no place like home".

Celie's line to Mister in The COlor Purple

"Everything you done to me is already done to you."

A recent Greek study found that people who napped had a 34 percent lower risk of dying from heart disease than those who didn't. Regular nappers, those who slept for at least 30 minutes three times a week, slashed their odds by 37 percent. Researchers attribute the results to sleep's stress-busting benefits.

from May 2007 SHAPE magazine

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