How Is It Any Different?

I was thinking this morning how my children and I didn’t spend as much time watching TV together as I spent with my grandmother watching TV as a child. I enjoyed those hours with her. I had so many questions about the people and their actions on various shows. She would sit and patiently explain situations and attitudes as we watched.

This morning I felt sad that my children and I didn’t have that exact experience. We did watch some shows and movies together, and I learned a lot about my children as we did.

Later, as they got older, the TV or monitor was hooked up to a game system and I would sit and watch them play. We often interacted by my asking questions about the game or by them telling each other new things they had discovered.

I learned that my oldest son was a perfectionist and would start a game over when it quit going his way. I learned that my middle son would rush through the game and try to be the first one to finish. I learned that my youngest son would take time to explore every nuance and every section of the game, and he often found things his brothers had missed. He played more like I played. Slow and inquiring and curious about possibilities.

Today my oldest is pursuing a career in law where perfectionism is important. My middle son is an engineer and the final solution or bottom line is what matters. My youngest has become a world traveler and is currently in China. Now I see how their playing behavior was actually showing their later life behavior.

I also recall many conversations we had about the games and strategies, and I realize we bonded over those video games as well as my grandmother and I bonded over TV shows.

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Manipulating My Emotions

I am seriously tired of the media trying to stir up my emotions about every little thing. To live in America today is to live in either constant fear, worry, anxiousness, concern, etc. for any and every little thing. The media reports on what shoes the President’s wife is wearing. They report on storms for days before their arrival and move the “cone of probability”, or whatever they call it, around so that every person n every possible affected state runs out and buys and drives up the prices of gas and food and becomes as agitated as they can be as they see bare shelves and continue to hear dire predictions.

I’ve had enough.

IF and that’s a big and unlikely IF, the media ever learns how to report the news again, I might give them another chance. In the meantime, I will remain blissfully ignorant of what the important news of the day is and how I should feel about it. If it’s not in my personal sphere, I don’t care. There! I figured out how to feel about it. I don’t care!

What Do We Do To Each Other?

I firmly believe that each of us are given talents and placed here on earth to share them.

Last night I watched a video of a man who had lived his childhood in foster care. One day when he ventured into a basement of one of his many placements, he saw an old piano and he taught himself to play it.

He’s now been homeless for over 30 years. When Foster Care is through with you . . . the day you turn 18, you are released from the system with nowhere to go and no one to help you. (It would be interesting to read what a life of foster care does to each individual that endures it.)

But I saw this video on facebook last night and I thought how much this man could have accomplished . . . how much more he could have shared his talents with this world, if only he had not been caught up in that horrible, dehumanizing system we pay taxes to support called “Foster Care” . . . if someone somewhere had just said, “Son, we’re going to get you piano lessons; you’re going to be free to share your talents with the whole world.”

My heart goes out to kids in foster care. As a school teacher, I’ve seen the effects it has on them. People can’t have it both ways . . . they say, “God doesn’t make any mistakes” and yet they’ll see children with parents they don’t approve of, or perhaps they’re part of that wicked system that takes children from parents and places them with others who will take them in for a hefty monthly payment from the state . . . and they say, “Look at that! God gave those children to the wrong people. Let’s correct his mistake.”

But when those children who have had tumultuous lives turn that magic age of 18, those same people say they are done with them, and off they go at that tender age to fend for themselves. To me that is crueler than leaving them with the folks God gave them to. Far, far crueler.

This man is an example of what could have been, if not for the meddling foster care system.

 

Pharmaceuticals

Pharmaceuticals:  http://www.dictionary.com/browse/pharmaceutical

adjective
1.  pertaining to pharmacy or pharmacists.
noun
2.  a pharmaceutical preparation or product.
While I’m eating cinnamon toast this morning, that I prepared using cinnamon powder, I looked up the medicinal powers of cinnamon. It made me wonder why humans persist in developing pharmaceuticals that have bad side effects, although often cure or improve the body, when there are likely natural cures or improvements around us that we could be using.
God made the world. That is my firm belief. Why then, would we think that we need to develop and make all the healing potions that we need. We may be “working on a cure” when one is naturally around us, but no one has tried it yet, or if they did, they didn’t realize they had cured themselves.
I think back to stories in the Bible about how Jesus could cure the sick and heal the lame . . . he even raised the dead. Did he know which herb or nature related item to use? Are all our cures around us, but we are too focused on developing pharmaceutical products to recognize them?
As I sat and read these ten healthy uses for cinnamon, I wondered what else naturally exists that we are over-looking?
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Don’t Be Different?

When you grow up in a family that does not value college degrees or new ways of thinking, you become the family ostrich, or experience ostracization, if you pursue more knowledge or a college degree.

This is what happened to me when I went to college. First I was criticized for even thinking of giving up my forty hour a week “good job” to go into debt to get a college degree and a teaching job that I dreamed of having.

I don’t think my immediate family had any idea what I was going through as I struggled financially and in other ways to complete four years of college study with no family support.

I was very fortunate to be placed in a Work Study situation ,through the financial aid office, where I worked with people (fifteen hours a week) who valued me and helped me. I worked there the whole four years I was in college.

I enjoyed most of my classes and learned new ideas and new ways of doing things. I even tried new foods, but when I tried to share these delights with my immediate family, I was ridiculed and asked why I’d want to eat that? (I remember that question about mushrooms, but no matter what new experience I had, I learned not to share it at home.)

At first I went home every weekend, but by the fall of my freshman year, I wanted to stay on campus for the weekend. My then boyfriend, who picked me up every Friday to drive me home for the weekend stay at my mother’s, broke up with me because I just wanted to stay on campus and go to one of the school’s football games.

It seems whatever I did that made me “different” from how I was caused a rift between me and the person who did not want me to change – not one bit! No change, come back home where you belong, and forget that foolishness! seemed to be the messages I received.

But while stuck in that chasm of change, I looked from one side to the other and chose to be different. I still was teased badly if I used a big word no one used in my family. I never fit into my family’s needed perception of me after my college graduation. It seemed I wore my own scarlet letter, much as Hester Prynne wore, except my was a C for College while hers was an A, whenever I went home to visit.

The funniest part was my mother never understanding why I didn’t choose to come back home to live after finally graduating. None of my family attended my college graduation. I went through the ceremony and wanted to tell all the complaining other graduates who fussed about having to wear that hot gown to make their parents happy, that at least they were able to make their parents happy and to enjoy the day.

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To All Student Loan Debtors In America

There needs to be a consensus that these loans will no longer dominate every college educated young person in America. Enough is enough. Either the lawmakers can bail them out like they do the banks, OR the students in outrageous debt need to flee the country with their degrees and knowledge and go make another country great again. I’m sick of this modern indentured servitude of today’s best and brightest young Americans. If Trump wants to make america great again, he needs to focus on helping out the young people who struggle under enough debt to buy a house that they incurred just for trying to better themselves. What country would welcome educated professionals? The cost of these loans double while graduates struggle to pay them off in a country whose older generation refuses to retire so there’s jobs for the young, newly educated INDEBTED graduates. Get your passports and GO. You are obviously not appreciated in America.