It's just NOT

I heard long ago that security of life is different in third world countries than it is here.  That they understand the fact that not all their friends and family will even make it to adulthood. I am so saddened to see that things are starting to look that way in the U.S.A.  We barely move on from the news of one shooting when another happens.   When did people become so violent? It's not the availability of the weapons.  It's not that we need prison reform.  It's not the failing of any system or program, although many are failing.  It's simply that,  somewhere along the way, some humans have decided for themselves that it's perfectly acceptable to take a life. Or many.

It is not.

It's not ok to hurt or kill another person. It's just not. I don't know where the breakdown is,  but we must rise up and agree that killing is wrong.  We must encourage and teach each other,  old or young, that killing another person is wrong.  Forget about blaming inanimate objects and start joining together teaching that we can be nice. We CAN not kill. Because it's not ok.

Love or hate?

Gosh, I wish he'd left it alone.  You know, the kneeling thing.  It re-split any semblance of blend and sent the elements running to their corners like a science experiment.  It has been implied by some that I should not even speak on the subject because of my pigmentation.  I also realize that if I plead for common sense to prevail, others will interpret that as me shutting down their cause with "hate".

I simply try to never hate any other person.  My foundation on interacting with people is based on "love one another".  There may be other humans that I dislike, but the reason for the dislike is something they have said or done to me personally.  It has absolutely nothing to do with their pigmentation.  I recognize that there is a wide division in opportunities in today's society.  I personally come in contact with little ones each day that are hungry, not clean, and suffer many other challenges - through no fault of their own.  What can be done to re-direct that path they're on?  I give them chances - teaching them music skills, giving them "parts" in programs, encouraging them about schoolwork, behavior, interpersonal relationships.  I also tell them that I love them.  Every chance I get.  I don't know how much difference those things make, but I know that I am using my position in life to try and make a difference.

I started to write about the "kneel-ers", who have chosen a quiet way to protest the inequalities that end in violence.  Their quiet way reverberated like a sonic boom.  It took on the look of deriding our country and our freedoms, due to the method they used.  Their meaning has been lost to some, which makes them (figuratively) scream louder and louder.  I started to write about "why don't they volunteer in our community or schools and try to make a difference?".  First though, I googled the number one kneel-er.  You know his name.  He has some free time on his hands right now.  I found that he has pledged to donate one million dollars to organizations that help the downtrodden, the underprivileged; I also found out that he has already made good on $800,000 of that promise.  I hadn't heard about any of that in the media.  I only heard this progression: guy kneels protesting a problem - other side says he hates our country - news media highlights all who kneel and all who dismiss them as unpatriotic - leader gets involved - volume of arguments and yes, hate crescendos at an alarming level.  I think that since the main one knelt, he has put his money where his knees are and is trying to improve things.  But everyone else?  I don't know.  I don't have time to google everyone.

There are opportunities out there.  There is a division in our society that might - nobody knows for sure - but just might be changed or re-directed by volunteer work. It doesn't have to cost you a million dollars. Volunteer at a school as a mentor. Get involved with Big Brothers/Big Sisters of America.  Work with Habitat for Humanity.  Walk away from figurative yelling on social media and do something literal.  Do something that helps, stop trying to place blame, don't ascribe hate to anybody based on how they look, get out there and underscore your opinion with action.  Wouldn't it be great if we could divert the arguing and make a difference?

Waking up those teens!

I just read another one of those posts: "If you don't want to ruin your teenager, stop doing these things immediately!".  Well, I didn't read it, I glanced at it.  The first item it mentioned was waking them up in the morning.  I just........don't agree with that!

The morning wake-up was a tradition when I was growing up.  All the way until I left for college, my dad had the kid wake-up duty.  He performed it with humor, style, information and (when I look back) flat-out love.  There were three kid bedrooms along a straight hallway.  He would march down the hallway, singing - out of tune -  "Happy Monday (or whatever day) Morning!"  and proclaim the news of the day.  It could be the result of a basketball match between two rival schools, what the dog had already done that morning, or what exciting event awaited our day or night ahead.  Yes, there were days when it was just "Hurry up, get up", but there were also some other days when a bugle was being blown.  In the hallway.  Outside our bedrooms. A bugle. I owned an alarm clock, and used it as well, but I counted on Dad being there.  When I left for college, I missed it.  I didn't miss class, I didn't not get out of bed because my parent wasn't there.  I knew that I was now on my own and had to get up when the alarm went off!

I carried on the tradition and tried to wake up my kids every day.  I wasn't perfect, but I know they can hear my voice saying "Good morning, sunshine!" even now if they try. Parents of teens - they might even talk to you like a human when they first wake up!  Oh, they learned to do laundry, cook, wash dishes, shop, budget money and time.......but waking up?  My opinion is....do that as long as you can.  When it's gone, it's gone.

Joy is a Fuel

Have you ever experienced plain ol' joy?  Just feeling so happy that you just throw your head back and laugh?  There are many occasions in life that can cause joy; the ones dealing with love and family are the most common.  Falling in love, expecting a baby, being proud of your child, spouse, parent.......the joy that comes within relationships is beautiful, and buoys us through life's hard times. Sometimes, though, I find an unexpected joy in art.  Seeing something amazing or beautiful first takes my breath away, then makes me laugh.  I think that's one of the reasons I teach music.

I experienced - heard and watched plain ol' joy last night.  Tommy James (of Tommy James and the Shondells) left the stage during "Mony, Mony" just to shake hands, give hugs, pose for selfies, greet a lady in a wheelchair - for about fifteen minutes while the band just vamped.  It was so joyful because he was so unassuming. First he jammed that awesome song, then just walked out like he wanted to hug everyone in the place.  Who does that these days?  We didn't run up for hugs, but just laughed and watched it all happen.  Happiness.  For those minutes, you can forget bills, aches and pains, worries, all the heartbreak that's happening in this world - and feel some joy.

I felt amazement and joy when the stage version of The Lion King began.  Giraffes, monkeys, hyenas, hippos - all right before my eyes.  Amazing.  I felt a numbness that approached awe when I stood before El Greco's "A View Of Toledo".  Having loved the painting through pictures in books for so many years, the real item struck me speechless.

I don't condone running away from our troubles. I especially don't condone not finding a niche where you can try to ease a small part of the world's heartache. ("Brighten the Corner Where You Are" - but that's another story.)  I highly condone, however, finding the joy in music, art, writing, drama - whichever form of creativity awes you - and letting that fuel you for turning back to bills, sickness and the difficult sadness in the world with renewed ambition to help.  Let the arts feed you.