October  28, 2022

Thought to Think About 

"Life expectancy would grow by leaps and bounds if green vegetables smelled as good as bacon."

Doug Larson

United Feature Syndicate

 October 28, 2022

Reflections

GREY

Grey or gray is the color of the unnoticed - the hippo half underwater in the river - the elephant in the room.

Grey is a blend - as in "Blend in!"

Grey is being there  but not wanting to be noticed.

Grey is the crayon that lets the red, yellow, black, green, and blue crayon to go ahead of it.

Grey says little - short sentences - waiting for the others to go ahead of it - at the restaurant - and give their order off the menu.

Gray is the anatomy of background - as in walls - as in skies on non-picnic or parade days.

Gray is not called off - but it still is not all there.

Gray is a fading - a blending - a blurring - a sky on most days in February in the northeast.

Gray is not in stained glass windows.  Did you ever notice that?

Gray is the color of ashes after the house or the forest  has been burnt - after the roaring red fire is out - the morning after the disaster.

Gray is the color of granite - oatmeal - seagulls and pigeons.

Gray is the color of skim milk - ugh - the last choice in selecting milk from the fridge - for cereal - hoping there is also some fruit in the fridge.

Gray is the color of God for some - God  the Father - the old guy with the grey hair - who is quiet - moving along alone - like an elephant or a lone wolf.

 October 27, 2022

Reflections

RESENTMENTS

Resentments roam the forest and if we enter the forest, beware they might bite us.

And if they bite us, they can remain as scars and hurts - reminding us of the time we roamed that time in forest.

Paths help.

Compasses help.

GPS helps.

Awareness helps.

Companionship helps.

And we can't go through life, without going through some forests.

That's the reality of life.

We can see the forest - and - or - we can see the trees - and - or - we can see both.

Sometimes we resent - get angry at - complain about realities - especially the people who are part of our reality.  Sometimes it's the whole group; sometimes it's an individual.

Resentments come from anger and vice versa.

Resentments can beget angers.

Resentments come from the reality of comparisons.

Comparisons beget the complaint called, "Unfair."

And unfair is the mother of resentments.

And we can feel great resentments - especially those about ourselves - but many's a time we don't notice or pay attention to their origins or down deeps - or how they seeped into us.

We do something stupid. We waste time - like a whole day - like a whole afternoon - like a whole hour - or a whole year. We blame others - once more the group or once more - an individual - specific person.

Yet it's us.

Resentments can be long lasting.  They crazy glue themselves to our memories - and last till we get dementia.

They leave a residue. They leave an aftertaste - an oooh sound. Bitter. Bitter. Bitter.

Resentments have a memory.  When we walk by certain places, trees, graves - sometimes they itch us with an "Uh oh!,  Oh No!" feeling.

Resentments roam the forest.  They will never be an extinct species.

 October 27, 2022

Thought for Today

"Such as it exists, the Anxiety of Influence is mostly a business between contemporaries.  The tensions are all sibling, not Oedipal."

Don Paterson, The Book of Shadows, 2004

 OCTOBER 26,  2022

Reflection

WHERE IS  GOD?

He asked, "Where is God?"

He asked a dozen times, "Where is God in all this.  Why doesn't God help me?  Why doesn't God change things? Why doesn't God do something?"

He said, "I prayed."

He said out loud the prayer he says to God every morning.

His chemical unbalance in his brain was a problem.

The psychiatrist said, "There are 100,000 people in the United States who are not helped by drugs."

He smoked.

Anxiety, high anxiety, crossing and uncrossing his legs, itching, lots of itching - all were part of his patterns.

He would make phone calls during our hour together. He would be polite. He'd say, "I'm trying to reach a lawyer.

He would go to a movie.  He would sit there without really seeing it. He would go back and forth to see that movie.  He saw one movie 16 times.

He'd ask, "Where is God in alll this?"

He was out of his job - his own company - on disability.

He was thin and nervous.

He'd say, "I have no reason to live/ Why doesn't God take me?"

He walks 2 hours a day.

I didn't know what to say.

I once said, "God cries!"

But I once also said, "God laughs."

He got a call to go see a kick ball game that night.

He said, "I'm not a spectator."

I asked, "Is God a spectator?"

I mentioned that Jesus healed and helped some cripples. He helped them walk again.

He replied, "But where is God for me, here and now?"

I  remained quiet. I didn't know what to say.

But I sat there and prayed and prayed, "Where are you  God? Where are You? What do you have to say?"

 October 26, 2022

Thought for Today

"There is a wonderful, simple conversation encoded in all poems worthy of the name: 'You've felt this too, haven't you?'"

Carol Rumens, Brangle, no, 3, 1999

 October 25, 2022

CHILD  PSYCHIATRIST

 

It took him two years to become a child psychiatrist.

 

Oh - after college he went to 10 more years of school and studies and research – first to become a medical doctor – then to become a psychiatrist – then to focus on child psychiatry – but he couldn’t get a grasp on just what to do – when it came to kids who had down deep deadingly patterns.

 

Silence and staring – with little seeing – seemed to be their scenarios.

 

A sentence in a lecture by a world famous psychiatrist triggered his choice of being and choosing to be and to work with kids – as a psychiatrist.

 

The sentence: “The bigger the problem, the earlier the problem.”

 

He felt so helpless trying to help some little kids who couldn’t or wouldn’t cry – kids who could hardly speak – kids would couldn’t play games.

 

He brought into his hospital ward grandmothers – teenage girls and boys – other kids – to be and to play with these kids -  but some kids had deep, deep what seemed like undiggable problems – especially a few kids who had no interaction with anyone really for their first 3 years of life.

 

Then one day this child psychiatrist was in church and the gospel was read.

 

Jesus asked, “What is the kingdom of God like?”

 

Then Jesus in his unknowability said, “To what can I compare it – this dream of God the Father for all?”

 

Then for some reason Jesus took a tiny mustard seed – planted it in his garden – watered it – and then watched it grow – watched it become a large bush and the birds of the sky dwelt in its branches.

 

Did he do this – learn this from Joseph – or someone in the neighborhood?

 

Then one day he watched a woman take some wheat flour – some yeast  - some water and watched a whole batch of dough become leavened – become bread. Then she baked it. Delicious taste. Delicious scent. Delicious mind and heart changer. Give us this day our daily bread.

 

Was it Mary – his mother - whom he watched doing this?  

 

The child psychiatrist said, “Eureka! I got it!”

 

He  got pots and earth. He started a small garden - in the back of the building. He got mustard seeds – watermelon seeds – flower seeds - and he and the kids became amateur farmers.

 

He went to a small kitchen in their building and got the necessaries to make bread. He and the kids then became amateur bakers.

 

It worked. Slowly the kids were healed.  The psychiatrist as well.

 

[Mass for Tuesday 30^th Week of the Year]