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Archive for October, 2020

An old Cherokee is teaching his grandson about life. “A fight is going on inside me,” he said to the boy.

“It is a terrible fight, and it is between two wolves. One is evil—he is anger, envy, sorrow, regret, greed, arrogance, self-pity, guilt, resentment, inferiority, lies, false pride, superiority, and ego.” He continued, “The other is good—he is joy, peace, love, hope, serenity, humility, kindness, benevolence, empathy, generosity, truth, compassion, and faith. The same fight is going on inside you—and inside every other person, too.”

The grandson thought about it for a minute and then asked his grandfather, “Which wolf will win?” The old Cherokee simply replied, “The one you feed.” (Cherokee legend)

This year has had nothing to do with twenty-twenty vision. Not yet. Perhaps recognizing dark and light within, can help root out the angry wolves inside me. May my flame be directed into light instead of uncontrolled, destructive fire.

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Reading is a discount ticket to everywhere. (Mary Schmich)

One more page. I will only read one more page. And my fingers flip through another chapter. (Of another story) Other chores have interfered lately, but the pages of a book don’t flip side-wise like a cellphone does when I lift a paperback to a different position.

The third book in my series is out. In eBook form now, a lot more convenient for traveling. The print form will appear soon. Through a new press, Petulant Child press. Happy reading wherever you feast your eyes.

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Our ability to reach unity in diversity will be the beauty and the test of our civilization. My only question is, will we pass that test? (Steve Goodier)

“Hi!” my neighbor shouts.

I wave and smile. No need to say more.

He is jogging with his dog. I am carrying groceries.

Simple-world things,

no action either of us needs to remember.

The painted work of my granddaughter speaks for us.

One humanity. May I act with awareness

of both the inside and outside of anyone

who walks inside and outside

my accepting, integrated circle,

until someday all understand.

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Life is defined by time and seasons. (Lailah Gifty Akita) 

Late September. Two septuagenarians in a blend-in-with-the-scene white Toyota, travel a county highway. Vehicles of all kinds, shapes, and colors join or pass. With anonymous individuals inside. Some courteous, others impatient.

Did I bring my phone? the man in the white car asks his wife. “Right here,” she answers. “Good,” he says. “I’ll call after my doctor’s appointment. And pick you up at the same mall entrance.” His voice remains soft. She smiles. She knows her limited sense of direction.

Foliage changes colors in a different time frame than traffic moves. The woman wonders when the skin on her arms developed ridges. Long parallel lines. Miniature mountainsides. Her experiences saved inside them as one season blends into another.

She walks through the mall pathways. Sees signs demanding masks. Noses over the top. Nothing worth buying. Construction penetrates her ears.

While the season waits outside. One more time.

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