indeterminate mind

  In 2020, I did something I have been dreaming about for some time.   I published my first book. It is a goal that I have been keeping to myself for many years.  I knew I had talent as a storyteller but lacked the technical writing skills to complete the task. I told myself a story, a story that I believed.  The story told me I would never be a writer.  In June of 2019, I sat across the table from a colleague who had a different story to tell. It was based on the same character arc as the story I told myself, but his story had a different outcome.  His story was all about the journey of setting a goal, obtaining the skills, and completing that goal.  His story told me that I was not a writer yet, but there was a path in which I could be. Fortunately, I also believed in his story. A little over a year later, I published my first book. Storytelling is the process of using words and actions to communicate basic facts and context to another person t...

I have been feeling down. I felt unappreciated and lonely. I feel disconnected from many whom I love.  The feeling has grown a little each day since the pandemic began.  Much of what I am experiencing is created by a righteous desire to have the company of good people but corrupted by the jealous loneliness that selfish desires manifest.  It’s easy to fall into the trap of selfishness when everything we do needs someone to tell us we are doing a good job.  Once in that trap, it is easy to spiral into discouragement.  Don’t let it happen.  It is good to be appreciated, but that should never be our motivation.    Last night I expressed my feelings to my wife and felt better afterward.   Today, I  was shown several instances where I was appreciated and thought about.   A friend needed someone to talk to.  A church leader reached out to let me know my contributions were important.  And a neighbor asked if I woul...

If you remove compassion from what would otherwise be righteousness, you begin to flirt with wickedness.

  Murdoch lay flat, struggling to control his breathing.   He dared not close his eyes, but knew if he did not control his anxiety, his heart would continue to race, and he would struggle to keep his breathing soft and imperceptible.    Murdoch perched on a ledge about two or three feet above than the height of a man riding a horse and with the blue moon casting its shadows everywhere, his hiding place made him invisible.    Except, if Murdoch were not able to control his breathing, he was sure the Winston gang would figure out what happened to him.   His heart wouldn’t listen, it had its own angry song it wanted to pound rhythmically into Murdoch’s soul.   

I am not sure exactly why, but every time I smell a dryer vent, while the dryer is running, I think of my Grandma and Grandpa Read.   I think because their dryer vent was on the back of their house near where we played as kids.   Or maybe it was that you walked right by the laundry room as you entered their house.   Either way I love to smell a dryer vent because brings me back to those moments.   My Grandma and Grandpa Read lived on a farm.   Not really, but as a kid that’s what I believed.   They had about an acre of land that my Grandfather used as a garden.   I believe the garden, which was surrounded by a mixture of wooden and barbed wire fencing, once had horses but that was long before I was alive.   Their house was out in the country.   Only about a half-hour from our house in the suburbs it was in the unincorporated part of our county.   My Grandpa always had Ice Cream.   There were very few times that he did no...

Michael tried to enjoy the excitement storming around him as the parade float inched along the route. The gaudy float was decorated with white and blue paper ruffles, with accents of red ribbons carefully placed around the outer edge and more red ribbons cascading down from the large monolithic paper monument behind him. It was all very patriotic. Maybe he thought, there would have been a time and place I would appreciate this kind of attention. But Michael dreaded every moment. He knew his duty was to smile, and allow the revels to go on, and he was never known to shirk his duty. But any joy displayed lived on the outer surface only. There was nothing below his skin that didn’t shutter at the thought that he was still living, and Dave was not. Michael thought about one of his favorite jokes about Independence Day, a popular comedian commented that it was only on July the 4th that one could enjoy a Brat, a burger, and a steak before blowing things up because that’s what the founding f...

The South won the war! You think that I am lying The South won the war, Is everyone crying? Wait a minute you say that not what I was taught The south won the war! Ok now you’re looney The south won the war Now pass the banana pudding. I can’t believe your saying this, you’re making me distrauught The south won the war! Im starting to believe you The south won the war I am thinking it’s all true If you keep repeating and repeating it must be a true plot