Poem: Grounded 


Thought I’d hitch a ride 

I did not feel like flying 

Stay out of the sky

I stand quietly 

Showing solidarity 

Grounded against guns 

(Note:  Prayers sent to those victims and their families, the witnesses and responders at the most recent shooting today in Florida’s airport. May there someday be an end….)

Lest We Never Forget


On this September 11th, as I am remembering that day now so long ago, it feels rather odd to no longer be a part of the ‘family’ of emergency workers. It was a part of my life for so many years, and when that day ripped the world apart, it hit me personally, when so many of my brothers and sisters  were there in the chaos. It could have been me….


Now, I am so blessed, as I am settling in to my new home, to be living a different life. Not that it isn’t without its stresses. But in this new place, it somehow seems more tidy and peaceful, even when the world is now full of such unrest. For me, it seemed like it really started on the awful day. That’s when it ramped up. Yes, there was always hate, prejudice, injustice. Oh yeah…don’t get me wrong.

What we’ve done in this very country for hundreds of years has been disgraceful. The inequity of people based on color, gender, disabilities or anything different for that matter, has always been an issue here. But the hate now seems so palpable. And no, I don’t think it’s just that we hear about it more through media. There is just more of it!

As I walk through my new community, one that is neat and friendly, I feel it is easy to become insulated. I want to become insulated some days. It’s exhausting listening day after day to the killing, the terror, the devastation of the planet and the hatred. One just wonders what happened to simply winding one’s life down and beginning to relax?

At work I sit and hear people talk. The constant whining, complaining, the mocking tones and downright meanness. What came first? Were people always like this or has our country turned sour because of all that’s hurting our world and therefore our souls? Maybe it’s simply decomposing us from the inside.

I ask every day in my daily meditation for peace: in my life and for the world. Trying to touch each person I meet with a sense of peace. How can I have a ripple effect?

My simple, small and quiet apartment is my sanctuary. It’s easy now to feel like I never want to go outside.  But there are good reasons to do it… Pushing against the beast of lurking depression, caused by bombardment of the seeming global demise–I do my best to remain positive. This home is my recharge point where I plug-in to be able to go out into a world that drains me of resources.

So, lest we never forget: that day September 11, 2001, changed the world. It tore us apart and we haven’t figured out since then how to come back together. The only way to honor those lost that day, and those who are still suffering, like the rescuers who continue to lose their lives because of the toxins they took in from 9/11–is to learn how to love again. To love each other, the earth, the animals, the trees, the air, the water….
And no walls, either outside or in, will help. Only learning to understand each other on the deepest level. And truly caring for our fellow human like we are one family.

The Real Deal


I feel I’ve always been pretty good at telling what’s the real deal. Of course this can refer to many things in life: food, merchandise (like diamonds–Marilyn would especially want to note), maybe love even (admittedly I’ve not been good at this). But in this case I’m talking about people. Are the people we meet, either at work, in social situations, on the street simply real?


You might wonder what I mean by this I suppose. Like, get real dude. It just seems the older I get, the more superficial people seem to me. Or at least, the less they are interested in things that involve anything that may mean thinking too hard, caring in a big way or really, really standing up for what you believe in.

It’s just easier to go to work, talk about your nails or hair, pretend that you’re friends with the person standing next to you, casually mention the horrors of the world, then hop in the fancy car and go home like nothing is happening. Like nothing is real. Like the horrors are really happening. Or your friends may not be really suffering, or maybe someone who isn’t your friend, just a co-worker, might need something from you more than a passing smirk.


No, it’s all about our own little microcosm. Our little floating bubbles that encase us and keep us separate but make it appear as though we’re able to see each other. But it’s just an illusion.

And in many ways I’m just as guilty. Oh I cry when I hear the news, but I don’t do anything about it. I just drive back and forth to work wishing I could do more. But I don’t. Not yet anyway. Swearing I will someday…when I can. At least I care I say to myself…it’s more than some. Does that make me more real?


When I’m with people, near people in real pain though, I do react. That much I can say. I can never sit by and just ignore it. And things like fingernails and doing my hair are not important to me anymore (well, they never were). It’s OK that they are to some, but there has to be more. Our worlds have to connect with people who have nothing.

So who is the real deal these days? Let’s get real here. Open our eyes to the real world. The war, the famine, the terror, the rape, the killing, the fires, the homeless, the poor, the racial disparity… And even the people close to us in true pain.

Let’s not pretend. Even while we live our comfortable lives, keep a piece of discomfort in our hearts to keep us real.

In It Together


Complacency in today’s world, in my opinion, can be a dangerous thing. It’s not the same world it was when I was a kid. Sadly, I believe this to be true, while others choose to stay in a dream world.

The Internet, along with high mobility and  huge numbers of people, easy access to weapons and drugs, the fracturing of communities and the scattering of families make it easy for humans with harmful intent to do their business. And somehow, in a world of discontent, poverty, pain and disharmony–there seem to be a fair share of these types these days.

And they are everywhere it seems: sometimes lurking within our own work places, often disguised, at first anyway, as one of us. They may appear like the rest of us, just doing their job, until the day comes that something doesn’t go their way. That’s when the darkness in them comes out: whatever pain they may feel makes their true heart appear.

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If we’re lucky, they may only steal something, like we suspect someone did at my job. And then they just won’t show up anymore. They may get away with something. This makes them big shots. Or at least they think so!

But then real trouble, in my estimation, comes into play and that’s our complacency not to act! If we have a fairly reasonable suspicion (and maybe even some proof) that some crime was committed, then to look the other way is a crime itself. Because this is how the little things become big. The petty theft that the co-worker gets away with can become something greater at the next job. And who knows how much greater? I’d imagine it can become like a dopamine rush…an addictive sort of thing even.

In these trying days we need to think like this  guy. How they are raised to hero status in some ways by the media and some of them may feel justified by their acts. “The world owes me!” For us to simply turn our heads and say: “whew, he’s gone now because he was trouble…now he’s someone else’s trouble” is not only negligent but a reflection on the world today.

This kind of myopic thinking is contributing to these horrific events we read about. How many could be stopped if people didn’t stick their heads in the sand beforehand? If people who saw these individuals engaging in unusual or specifically criminal behavior and push the point? And I mean the managers of the companies who have the real power: the ones looking at the tapes, making the phone calls, speaking with the individual and monitoring the behaviors. Just to turn away and pretend none of it happened is like participating in the crime itself.

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This all is just another depressing aspect of today’s society. I’m sure this young man is suffering somehow. He may not be a true criminal, but someone who has strayed because of the usual breakdowns one faces in life’s path. We all make choices and his aren’t the good ones for sure (if indeed he’s guilty, which I do not know). But these stories are a dime a dozen today anyway.

The point is we all are partly responsible for this guy if he’s guilty: for why he did it in the first place and for ignoring it after. Because for us to be really human, we have to all be in this together.

Left Behind


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Welcome to another weekend. We’re all worn out from work and this very sad week. Humans are so strange. We don’t understand why they hurt each other so much. My sisters and I aren’t from the same species, but I love them  and would never hurt the fur balls.

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Sometimes my two sisters are kind of a pain and try to eat my food. Or they may get annoyed with each other, but when Mom is away at work, we make up and keep each other company. We know she comes home tired and sad from all the bad stuff the her species do to each other. At times I hear her cry and it makes me sad too.

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If I can’t make her feel better, then I just get sad. I don’t want the world to be a bad place anymore. Because if anything ever happened to my Mom, I’m not sure what would happen to us…..

No More


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Blood.

It started as a normal day for a group of people linked together by who they love and fateful moments in time end in the crimson reality of their

Life Energy.

It is not the first time this group has experienced focused attention on them and the precious blood that runs through all of us. The red that spilled from so many innocent lives in Orlando bore the test of time, bearing witness to those who had died before: a slower and courageous death, when so many would turn away from helping. Those were painful years for many.

This time death was quicker but the prejudice and hate is still rampant.

It’s innocent blood, that spills or is diseased. The people through whose veins in which it flows do no crime. They live. They love.

Let the day come when they are targets no more and their hearts can pump joyfully into old age….

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