This was a call to war. And the war ignited into full regalia when my guardian angels pulled the plug on my body on Halloween 2018 while I was in a second-opinion consult with a Mayo Clinic gynecologic oncologist. As pale as white paper, and barely able to breath, and worse — unable to control myself, I hurled and splattered volumes of gastrointestinal debris all over her office. Rushed to the ER, the final report read: severe anemia, hemorrhage gostrointestinal upper, malignant neoplasm of endocervix (HCC), and dyspnea — NOS (labored breathing).
I challenge anyone to show me how this moment of snarky memes, negativity, and divisiveness benefits one’s self, others, the planet.
A drive through social media showcases this variable landscape accelerated by nitromethane. While some focus their use of language on beauty and bright opportunity, others take a verbal trek into the macabre world of finger-pointing and scapegoating.
What do you feel in your heart and mind when you read other’s words? Are you inspired to be a better person or do you want to go out there and kick some ass? Do you feel comfort in those words or do you feel your blood pressure rise to unhealthy levels? What happens within you when you read positive and kind words about others and the world around us, versus mocking and hateful language about others and the world around us?
But what nature insists on showing us, just like the flowers I captured during my January walk through the desert, is how nature keeps giving sensual delights despite the constant assault that you and I place upon it. These are simple things that unite us. These a pleasures that we can easily have in common. These are treats that come for free. These leave permanent moments while the effort to divide us is impermanent on every level.
Halloween 2018 became a nightmarish, blood-curdling horror story—a story I have yet to share publicly. And I won’t share all of […]
Despite the endless coffee stain, it was the magic of family and friends that kept 2018’s light burning. So this is a thank you to a long list of kind people who have made a difference during my personally challenged moments.
Jalama Beach also offers a look into California history. The Jalama Creek estuary, as noted by one of the signs posted, was once a Chumash Village. Both grandchildren actually found that interesting, especially when they learned that the chert we found on the beach was collected by the Chumash and fashioned into arrowheads and blades. That led to a hunt for what my grandson thought would make a perfect carving stone. He found one, but decided to leave it on the beach.
A few years back, a man of Filipino heritage, a licensed pharmacist, purchased a local drug store. An elderly woman, clearly of Caucasian heritage, approached this pharmacist with a rant about how she was sick and tired of “all you Chinamen taking our jobs.”
This is not a politically right or left issue. I’ve watched both sides delve deep into intolerance, belittlement, and yes, hate.
“What island am I on?” I asked myself. Outside is a leader belittling countries of dark-skinned humans. Outside is a legion of angry white men at war with themselves and a changing world. Outside is a living contradiction of faith. Outside we’re told that it is us versus them. But I was on an island where ethnicity and social station did not matter. This island’s mission was human kindness.