FEELING GOOD

Whew! What a tremendous difference a few days, some Premium saltines, oatmeal, ginger ale and a can of chicken noodle soup make! There's nothing like recovering from a little sickness to make you really, really grateful and appreciative. You remember how you felt, and how you currently feel. Even if you're not 100%, you know it's so much better than it was. You want to stretch, test your limits, get moving (but not too quickly), get your balance, freshen up--and, if you can help it, resign not to do WHATEVER it was that landed you flat on your back ever again. EVER. You want to make all kinds of health vows. (I'm definitely making one involving leftover shrimp.)
It's a new day. Life's waiting. Get up. Shake off all hindrances--especially the self-imposed ones. Shine your light.

FREEDOM

 

SICK DAYS

I'm sick. Sheesh. I hate being sick. It's so depressing. It's even worse when you realize it could have been avoided. It began yesterday morning. I woke up feeling lousy. My personal plumbing had been working overtime all night. The only good thing about it all is that the swollen ankles and feet I had during the trip to Chicago last week are gone. Kind of a shame in a weird way. The swelling actually made my legs look bigger. Now I need to rehydrate. My skin looks like the Sahara. Skin isn't supposed to have a sound- definitely not the sound of rustling, dried leaves.
"No sugary drinks", I read. I guess that means I can't have a lemon Italian Ice. Sigh.
The crackers and ginger ale that's supposed to work, went the way of everything else I tried to ingest, so I gave up. Vomiting is an awful, violent thing, especially when you know your stomach is practically empty. It was like my body was trying to expel my entire large intestine. I actually heard moaning, realized it was me, and felt sorry for myself. I'm so glad I finally managed to fall asleep last night. All that moaning could really keep a body awake.

Today, it seems as if there's one less elephant stomping on my stomach, but I'm awfully tired. I've managed to keep down the ginger ale and crackers. I'm either turning into a polar bear or I have a fever. The air conditioning has been on full blast all night and day, and although I'm not freezing, the water I ran in the tub, IS. I've made several attempts to get up and stay up. None have been successful.

I thought over what I'd eaten in the last few days, AND whether I'd had any anxiety. Did I make myself sick? I want to blame the shrimp, but just can't bring myself to accuse a dish I love so much. I bought it on Sunday, didn't eat it all, and refrigerated it. When I got home from my trip, I was rummaging through the refrigerator and found it. I was so happy to see it. Instead of eating it cocktail style, I put a little water in a small pot and re-steamed it. Perhaps that wasn't a good idea. Based on my symptoms, according to the mighty internet, I either have gastroenteritis, or something is wrong with my prostate. I know. One must be really, really careful with internet diagnoses.

I'm missing a concert tonight. I thought I could drag myself up and go, but considering how difficult it has been to drag myself to the bathroom, dragging myself to Alexandria was out of the question. Maybe I'm just supposed to be still. Maybe I need to make some changes. There are times when you realize you're not 20 any more.
I had some soup. It is coursing it's way through my digestive system as I type. Why is soup reserved for sick days? It was actually very good. Thank you, Progresso. Your chicken noodle is the closest thing to J. Alexander's.
I'm going to try to get up again. No sense adding atrophy and BO to my symptoms.

"Tomorrow, tomorrow, I love ya tomorrow", especially if you bring wellness.

TODAY

You don't have to hide no more

Don't have to cry inside no more

Peace of mind, take flight no more

The air seems clean today

Little girl, no fear, no more

Teenager, waste tears no more

Woman, silence is no more

No trouble in your way

You don't have to waste your grace

Or politeness one more day

Being kind to those who've taken

And left you to pay

Though used, broken, tossed aside

Love's all you've ever desired

While wondering if your life

Had robbed you of your once true smile

You've outlasted it all

Everything designed to break you

Make you fall

Here you are

It's wonderful

The air seems clean today

No trouble in your way

vrwc2011

 

SATURDAY THOUGHTS: POETRY PROMPT---OKAY

God told some folks to do some things 

That made it seem like they were completely crazy.
Ever wonder if He wants you to be one of them?
So listen now, 

don't stop, 

don't wait, 

don't turn around, 

don't doubt, 

don't hesitate.
Just do what He says.
He's been at this thing a long time, Baby.

I've learned to say, "Okay,
Whatever you want me to do, I'll do
Ain't no sense in fighting you
I'll lose."
So I'll stick to the thoughts and the plans you have for me--
and have had since my days began
And in that plan, I win

When everybody else says, "Go", 

and He says, "Wait",
It makes you seem like you're completely lazy!
Stop caring so much about what other people think!
So listen now, He knows about what lies ahead
The tricks, 

the traps, 

the pitfalls
Just follow His lead
He won't steer you wrong now, Baby

Just learn to say 

"Okay,
Whatever you want me to do, I'll do
Ain't no sense in fighting you
I'll lose."
So I'll be wise, 

and take a lesson from what happened to them,
And not think it can't visit me
Epitome of Stupidity

There's a way that seems right
In the end there's just night
Say "Okay"
Choose right
Choose light

Just learn to say 

"Okay,
Whatever you want me to do, I'll do
Ain't no sense in fighting you
I'll lose."

Make me wise, so I choose right
Make me wise, so I choose light
Okay, Your way
Okay, in spite of what they say
What do THEY know, anyway?


VRWc2011

SATURDAY THOUGHTS: PLAN B

Sometimes, an unexpected Plan B turns out so much better than your Plan A ever would have. 

Maybe I wasn't supposed to sing the songs I'd selected. 

The tracks sure played on my laptop. 

I'd used them many times before, but when I got to MetroStage last Monday, Mel Prince's sound equipment didn't even acknowledge that the CD existed--neither did the theater's desktop computer. 

I didn't have time to panic, or decide to sing a cappella, because a very talented and gracious Daryl Hunt stepped right in like a musical superhero. 

He, with pencil in hand, sat down at the piano, revised the order of songs I'd suggested, made sure the keys were comfy, and played as if we had rehearsed for weeks.

Performance tracks serve a wonderful, convenient, even economical purpose, but live music is so much better. You can be as free as you like.

I never learned how to play piano, but I'm so happy to know phenomenal talents who do. 

Technology is great, but I love the sound of a real piano being played exceptionally well. 

The MetroStage experience reminded me of a poem I'd scribbled in June. 

Maybe I'll set it to music...: )

REAL PIANO

Got a ticket to the party
Went inside, sat down, and waited for the show
Looked around me
So many young things
Would I be able to bear it?
Should I go?
Thought about that flight attendant
Saying, "Look behind in case you need to flee".
So I checked the nearest exit
It was not even remotely close to me

How I wanted
Longed and hoped for
Real piano
Could somebody
Anybody
Play piano?

Something started
Oh, so noisy!
Nothing musical at all did it employ
Just some ramblings, awful mumblings
So replete with everything that would annoy
How it tore at all of my insides
Drove it home that I'm no youngster--
That's for sure
I'm not 20, 30, even 40
There are some things I just can't do anymore

How I wanted
Longed and hoped for
Real piano
Could somebody
Anybody
Play piano?

I don't know what key
Just give to me
Something that will soothe my ears
And warm my heart
I cannot play
Maybe some day
Until then,
I can't bear what only brings more darkness to the dark

Somebody, Let it be
Real piano
Somebody, play for me
Real piano

I don't know what key
Just give it to me
Something that will soothe my ears
And warm my heart
Just not as poised
To handle noise
That makes you wanna seek a hiding place
Take refuge underground

Somebody, Let it be
Real piano
Somebody, play for me
Real piano

VRW c2011

#musicmatters

ATTITUDE IS EVERYTHING

Ideas and suggestions are good. 

Good ideas and suggestions are better. 

Good ideas, implemented properly, and motivated by a desire for the benefit and enrichment of everyone involved, are the best. 

Self-motivated ideas that serve to take advantage of, and diminish the contributions of others are the worst. 

Never confuse what you think you deserve with what you were actually promised. 

When there's a collective goal to be reached, competitive spirits have no role other than a divisive, destructive one.

You can't take it upon yourself to change the parameters and purpose of an opportunity that's presented to you. Doing so forfeits your right to cry foul when the opportunity doesn't yield the windfall you foolishly expected. 

When you decide to do what you were neither asked nor authorized to do, and you come up short, it's your own fault. 

Creating a need, or a problem where there is none, is done at your own expense.

Until you actually own the land that the road is on, it might be a good idea to follow the rules, perform well, stay in the lane you've been allowed to occupy--and show a little gratitude to those who so frequently sacrificed their time, effort, and resources for you.

Whether it is naturally occurring or drug-induced, don't, don't, DO NOT allow the 

arrogance, 

self absorption, 

delusion, 

complaining, 

deceitfulness, 

desperation, 

immaturity, 

jealousy, 

or out of control ambition of another person to sour or destroy a good opportunity for you. 

Attitude is EVERYTHING. Always check yours--honestly. 

Even the most amazing talent can be quickly overshadowed by a sense of entitlement, irrational behavior, or an overbearing, unreasonable disposition. 

People won't put up with drama and foolishness for long--no matter how good you are at what you do.

Some people have no idea that they are merely being tolerated. 

Though your contribution may be unique--even excellent, is it worth the accompanying headache that others have to endure in order to appreciate it? Having healthy self-worth is one thing. Thinking more highly of oneself than one ought is another.

The indispensable person you think you are, can never be realized if the obnoxious person you REALLY are, always shows up first.

RESIDUE

I overheard a stranger cry
There had been a injury
So deep I was sure that I
Would begin to weep
The response to so much hurt
Was as cold as ice
"Look, just get over it.
Get on with your life."
Just made me realize
Some things you ought not share
Things you, nor friends can solve
Take to the Lord in prayer

Some stuff has residue
Traces left over after the real thing has gone
That you just can't get over soon
Can't seem to recover from
Some stuff has residue
It's designed that way
To leave you weak and confused
Feeling there is no way

Yeah, I kept listening
To see where things would go
Would there be drying of tears;
Would a smile replace the flow?
Instead along with hurt
Anger came
No empathy helped make sure
Not a thing would change

No, "It's gonna be alright."
No "Let me help you through."
No mention of God's love
Mercy was left out, too
Just a cold "Get over it."
Without a suggestion how
Sometimes, I wonder still
If things are alright now

Some stuff has residue
Traces left over
After the real thing has gone
That you just can't get over soon
Can't seem to recover from
Some stuff has residue
It's designed that way
To leave you weak and confused
Feeling there is no way

Oh but there IS a way
It might take a little time
Joy comes in the morning
Things will be just fine
It's up to you to decide
When your morning will be
Just know the Lord is there
He hears your prayer
He knows

Some stuff has residue
Traces left over
After the real thing has gone
That you just can't get over soon
Can't seem to recover from
Some stuff has residue
Let God wipe it away
Feeling weak and confused
Isn't the way you have to stay

WEDNESDAY THOUGHTS: ON THE 6TH OF JULY

It was raining this morning, Lawd, and some challenged spawn of Satan was outside setting off fireworks.

I'm beginning to think it's an addiction.

The DC Fire and Emergency Medical Services Department, and the Metropolitan Police Department's Fireworks Task Force reported that 125,000 illegal items have been retrieved. 

They are asking residents to call 311 in their continuing effort to dispose of unused fireworks. 

I guess 911 dispatchers are tired of getting calls from people who can't differentiate the sound of fireworks from the sound of gunshots. 

(If only the US Army would only institute a special draft, round up all of the wannabe ammunition experts, and transport them to a REAL war zone.)

Someone was shot last night on Barnaby Street; another person on North Capitol Street. 

Who knows how many other crimes were committed involving guns? 

I wonder if the first person who heard shots fired, last night didn't bother to call either 311 OR 911.

Today, some disgruntled guy is randomly shooting on I-295.

 

Good grief.

Sometimes, what people have a right to do, makes life miserable for others. 

Your good time shouldn't be at the expense of another person's well being. 

Fun is relative.
Consideration for others has to be taught.

I hate to think that the 295 shooter is some poor guy who snapped because he couldn't get any sleep last night.

MONDAY THOUGHTS: POETRY PROMPT---4TH OF JULY BLUES

An opportunity to sing background vocals for Jordin Sparks tonight, on the West Lawn of the Capitol, never materialized. 

I'm not sure what happened. 

I got the tracks to learn last week, and a tentative schedule, but no follow up--not a word.

 

In light of the sudden storm yesterday, and today's weather forecast, I'm wondering if the change of plan was a blessing in disguise. 

It would have been nice to participate in "A Capitol Fourth" again this year, and have a reason to be out of the neighborhood, other than for a desperate search for peace. 

I just looked out of the window. 

A car just drove by with a grill strapped to its roof. 

I've got to get out of DC before I find myself strapped to a bed in a psychiatric ward.
The noise is a bit too much.

I heard, "There's no better place to celebrate the birth of our nation than right here in Washington, DC." That's highly debatable. 

One person's celebration is the source of another person's newly acquired mental disorder, or drinking problem.
Where am I? Afghanistan? 

I heard the first blast of the morning, a little after 9:00 AM. 

The revelers are late today. 

Fact is, folk started celebrating around here sometime in May (thanks to internet fireworks sales, or leftovers from last year, I suppose).

I don't like feeling irritated. I like waking to the sound of birds singing, but I fear they have all packed up their nests and songs and left to seek refuge in Maryland, where their little bird brains won't be damaged by the sound of heavy artillery. 

There's usually a smile on my face in the morning. 

I still have my joy, but I am not exactly happy. 

My right to relative peace and quiet is being infringed upon. 

Can't SOMEBODY, among the Powers That Be, see that this is a HUGE problem? 

Don't get me wrong. I'm all for the visual. 

I'm all for Art, Science, color, and pomp and circumstance. Fireworks displays are spectacular; a veritable feat of physics; awe inspiring eye candy. 

I think they're all of those things and more-- when operated by pyrotechnics professionals...legally...safely...in a big, huge, wide open, cordoned off, secure, far away space...on The Mall. 

When in the hands of intoxicated people in residential and school parking lots, and unsupervised children on sidewalks, however, they're a complete, utter nuisance.

I read a blog comparing gunshots and fireworks written by a Chicago hater of the 4th of July, and wholeheartedly agreed, but the problem addressed was not unique to Illinois. It persists here in DC. 

I wonder what the statistics are here, concerning the volume of 911 calls in the days leading up to, on, and after the 4th of July?
I did just what DC Fire EMS advised, and called 311 last night at 10:33PM. 

I was on hold for about 15 minutes, but the home grown jazz music that was playing did make the wait a little more bearable. The exasperated person on the other end of the line gave me the impression that I hadn't been the first caller of the evening. I was immediately transferred to a 911 dispatcher. 

"We'll send somebody out", she said wearily. 

What do you do? Put on headphones and ignore it? What if someone IS being wounded or murdered? Then, you wake up in the morning and everyone's vehicle looks like it was hit by the Abominable Soot Monster. 

On top of that, the empty containers of what was consumed, as the peace was being disturbed, are left strewn all over the ground.

I like my neighborhood. There are many positives and advantages to living on the SW side of SE, but I officially hate it when 4th of July weekend rolls around. 

Somebody suggested I move, and, well, you know where I think they can go with that thoughtless suggestion. (People make me sick coming up with trite solutions when an issue doesn't affect them, but when a problem does visit them, they want everyone's agreement, undivided attention, immediate action, and support.) 

I realize that there are those who disagree with me on the fireworks issue. 

Going outside to join the noisemakers is not an appealing option, although it would change the impact of the sounds I hear.
In a city with a widely publicized homicide and gun control problem, one would think that anything remotely capable of producing explosive sounds, that penetrate walls and assault your very soul, would be frowned upon. All one needs to do is ride around the city's neighborhoods and conclude that laws are being broken, enforcement is lacking, parents are being careless, and accidents are waiting to happen. 

Unless "explode" has acquired a new definition, it seems that the volume of arrests should be the thing that skyrockets, and fireworks stands should be more vigorously inspected and/or shut down.
I am convinced that fireworks enthusiasts in MY neighborhood are being personally serviced by The Pentagon. 

Surely, they are obtaining surplus weapons once bound for the Middle East. There is nothing festive, or celebratory about incessant, nightly, window-rattling noise in a residential neighborhood.

I am seriously praying for rain--a monsoon--but then that would just prolong the problem. In SE/SW the 4th of July is celebrated, unabated, until about the 4th of September.

(No. NO… this guy is NOT walking down the street with a grill slung over his back.)

Right now, Maryland residents are staking out the choicest cookout spots in Oxon Run Park. Cars with Maryland tags are beginning to fill otherwise empty parking spaces. Sound systems are being set up, and the most ign'ant boy in everybody's party usually has possession of a microphone. 

Maybe someone will decide to put an amphitheater on the property, like WolfTrap or Carter Barron. Right now, it's a free-for-all venue for anyone who wants to come and entertain the neighborhood. 

Some of that entertainment ignores the fact that there are impressionable children within earshot.
I admit I smiled the other day while I was at a Bank of America ATM on South Capitol Street, when I heard the sirens, and saw a car being pulled over near the entrance of Eastover Shopping Center. When will Maryland fireworks seekers ever learn that every  driver in every vehicle at the Southern Avenue Shell station is not there for gasoline and Pringles?

Happy Birthday, America. 

I love you, yes I do, and I pray that you will bless God as He blesses you, but I don't think I like the 4th of July in DC any more.
Maryland, here I come...for today, anyway.

I wrote a song about it. Wanna hear it? Here it goes. Just channel your inner B.B. King...

FOURTH OF JULY BLUES

Just wanted to get some shuteye
Turned off the lights, and climbed in bed
Just wanted to get some shuteye
Turned off the lights, and climbed in bed
Blasts break through the darkness
Sure do hope nobody's dead

Threw off the covers
Should I hit the deck, or bar the door?
Threw off the covers
Should I hit the deck, or bar the door?
Lawd, it's half-past midnight
Guess I won't be sleeping any more

Feeling kind of tired
Thinking to myself, "You know where you live"
Feeling kind of tired
Thinking to myself, "You know where you live"
What made me think this year would be different?
Enough is more than enough.
Somethin's gotta give.

Wooden eyesores on corners
Selling weapons to kids
Explosions and rapid fire
Can't make out what it is
Should I call the Po Po?
Should I just decide
To get the heck out of DC
While I still have a piece of my mind?

I got the blues
The 4th of July in DC blues
Miss the birds singing outside my window
Kinda scared to turn on the news

"Reports of shots fired"
"Child maimed in the park"
"House went up in flames"
"Crowds wandering in the dark"
"Somebody sneaked a gun in"
"Maybe they can save the eye"
"Bodies found in the water"
"Happy 4th of July"

I got the blues
The 4th of July in DC blues
Gonna go find a nice, quiet spot in Maryland
Soon as I can find my shoes
Da DA da-- Da DA da-- Da DA da-- DA
Da DA--Da DAAAAAAA....

OPPORTUNITY

Driving back from Forestville this afternoon, I noticed a woman standing on a median. She was selling water and Krispy Kreme doughnuts. As much as I love Krispy Kreme, I can't see my way clear to buy them off of the street. The thought of exhaust from cars, dirt, debris, gnats and ants making their way into the boxes is a bit of a turn off. It was so hot today, too. I could imagine the doughnuts continuing to bake in the sun and losing the melt-in-your-mouth quality that Krispy Kreme is known for. My apprehension, however didn't matter. For everyone like me, there are probably others who simply see the logo and could care less if the boxes are stacked on the ground at a busy intersection.
The woman seemed determined and prepared.
Even though I had no plans to make a purchase, I hoped she would sell off her stock quickly and get out of the heat.
She walked past the car and headed toward other cars that were approaching the traffic light. I guess she assumed that if I, or people in the three cars in front of me had been interested, we would have gotten her attention. The people sitting in the back seat of the car in front of me WERE interested, though. They seemed to be scrambling for money, and kept looking back to see where the woman was. One lady let down her window and was waving, but the woman never turned around. The other back seat passenger was waving, too, but neither of them could get the woman's attention. She'd probably concluded that there were prospects headed toward her, and she never thought to look back. The light was unusually long, and one of the passengers was waving cash out of the window. I looked in the side mirror to see if the woman had turned around, but she hadn't. I decided to blow the horn. When I did, she turned around, but just then, the light changed from red to green. She couldn't get to the car fast enough. The car in front of me hesitated, but I imagine the driver decided not to hold up traffic. They'd get their water and doughnuts elsewhere.
The woman was in position for a sale--not one, but two-- but she was facing the wrong way. She had a good product, a great product, even, that was desirable even though her venue was unorthodox. She gave up on one direction and opted for another.
I drove away, too. I don't know what happened next. Did she decide to give up? Did she sell all of her merchandise? Were the people in the next few cars ready with their cash? Is she still out there? Did she get caught in the thunderstorm?
What stuck with me was that she missed an opportunity because she was too far away and looking in the wrong direction. Fortunately, it doesn't mean that she failed. Maybe now, she'll remind herself not to give up so easily. Maybe she'll look both ways from now on. Sure, she missed THAT opportunity, but it doesn't mean that another, perhaps better opportunity isn't on its way.

SATURDAY THOUGHTS: HELP CAN HURT

I guess they thought they were whispering. 

Frankly, no one was exempt from their criticism and jest. My intentions, motives, and actions, too, were under scrutiny. 

It is unbelievable how people can ask you to do a thing and, in the presence of others, spin it as if you asked them for a favor. 

My work, and my work ethic were being maligned and minimized. Yep. I was ticked, and walked directly into their gossip fest. 

The speaker couldn't even look at me. 

The listener looked up, and with a huge, nervous grin, and said, "Oh, Hi Dear!" 

I surprised myself when I blurted out, "Don't try to talk to me if you're going to talk about me."

The speaker told on himself, and curtly asked, "What? What are you talking about? What did I say about you?" 

"This place isn't exactly soundproof", I said. I heard you."

They both sat there frozen, so I repeated their words to them, and reminded them of the circumstances that made my presence and efforts necessary--circumstances that at least one of them should not have forgotten. 

I could hear my voice trembling, but I didn't cry. They looked at each other, smirked, then looked at me with a condescending gaze. 

I continued, citing everything that would make them realize how inappropriate, disrespectful, inconsiderate, and unfounded their words were. 

They were quiet. The shame was palatable. 

One was ashamed for lying, and the other was ashamed for listening and cosigning, instead of promptly shutting down the conversation. 

(It occurred to me that men who have very little respect for women, don't enjoy being scolded or corrected by one.)

I suppose being talked about, is something that everyone has experienced. 

What's worse is when you're talked about negatively, and you hear it for yourself--live--while it's happening, and the person who is running you down is someone for whom you have sacrificed; someone who you've consistently stepped up to help, when no one else would, or could. 

It's heartbreaking, puzzling, and the kind of thing that makes you want to promptly sever ties. Why would someone want others to think the worst about you? What do they stand to gain?

 When you hear someone lying on you, you wonder, "Are they lying, or is it that they really need to believe what they're saying is true?" 

When you hear someone tearing you down, if you didn't know better, you might begin to question yourself. 

I learned that the surest way to stop a gossip or a liar, is to confront them. 

Make a promise to yourself: No more having extended, heated conversations with people who are not in your presence. Confront. 

When you hear someone, who should know you, lying about you, it hurts. 

It wouldn't, though, if you didn't care about them and what they thought. 

That's when you have to consider just how much weight their words should continue to have, and whether you've given away more power to them than you should have. 

Get it back. 

Today. 

Right now. 

My friend Kim was right, "We've given too much power away. No one gets a pass to kick your a**. Not any more."

Sometimes, you get to a point where the opinions of people, whose opinions used to matter, just don't matter any longer. Their words cannot--no--will not continue to either shape, influence, or affect you. You'll always be sad, broken, unsure, perplexed, and lacking in confidence if you allow it. It's not that you have an aversion to constructive criticism or good advice, but what you will not do is absorb the negative, toxic energy and disparaging words of someone who could and should say something good, pleasant, or complimentary, but won't.

When your good is spoken of in an evil manner, you want to say something. You want to defend yourself. Whether it's two people talking or ten, the speaker gets the bulk of your ire, but a part of you also wants to address the listeners. You don't want anyone else walking around with some skewed view of you, so you forget about how much you despise confrontation, and launch into your defense. You feel that you have to counter the rotten stuff they've been told. Every now and then, though, you get interrupted by embarrassed listeners. They know what, and who you're dealing with. They know that they too are dealing with a gossip; someone who is loyal to no one; someone who has no filter; someone who so craves attention that they use their words to drive wedges between people, and do it with no regard for the relationships they are damaging. They know, but they either pity them or humor them. To those who know the truth, you don't have to explain a thing. They know what you've done, why, and for what duration. Frankly, they don't know how you've done it. You don't have to say a word. They know better, and they're praying for you. You're relieved, but still angry. Make no mistake about it. Words do a lot of harm.

How can you continue to work on behalf of someone whose words are curt, rude, or abusive? When there's a legitimate need, and you know it, it's easy. You refuse to take anything they say personally. You, too, learn to humor them. You adopt a new attitude:
"Work willingly at whatever you do, as though you were working for the Lord rather than for people."~Colossians 3:23

Unfortunately, there are those who will never understand or accept you or your efforts. They may need it, but they don't want it--especially not from you, and particularly if they haven't exactly been kind to you. They will always see you through the eyes of their own actions and intentions. A person who gives, expects recognition, and regrets giving when he doesn't get it, will never understand someone who gives anonymously, or out of sheer kindness. A person who gives conditionally will always be poised to take the gift back if the giver doesn't jump through hoops, or offer endless appreciation. A person who brags about the gifts he gives, or the charitable work he does, assumes that everyone else is bragging, too. A person who gives and expects something in return is not a giver, that person is a frustrated lender. A proud, boastful, arrogant giver will always be repelled by, and suspicious of a genuine one. They will always project their M.O. onto everyone else. You must have some ulterior motive. You must want something. You must be looking to enrich yourself. You must be puffed up as you blab all over town what you're doing. You must have some diabolical scheme hatched. You must be expecting payment. When you confront them, though, they have no rational explanation for what they think or the way they treat you. The proof they have is the benefit of what you've done on their behalf. They can't deny the improvement of their own condition. They can look around and see what you've done. What confounds and even angers them, is why you've done it. It makes some people feel better about themselves to suspect that the intentions of others are not honorable. Genuine kindness shown toward them forces them examine themselves, and consider what they've said and done to others--and that can be most uncomfortable.

Proverbs 5:21-22 reads, "If your enemy is hungry, give him food to eat; And if he is thirsty, give him water to drink; For you will heap burning coals on his head, And the LORD will reward you." Sometimes, you don't find out who your enemy is until you attempt to help him or her. Help can hurt. To some, help is like poison, and no one, except an enemy, would poison you, right? To some, when it comes to help, you are the one throwing water, and they're the Wicked Witch of the West. You're Kryptonite, and they're Superman. Help, to you says, "I love you", "I see your need", "I'm able and available". The person who doesn't want, or is suspicious of help hears, "I'm a failure", "I'm not able", "I can't do this or that anymore", "I'm not virile", "I'm over the hill", "I'm not in my right mind", "I'm losing control", "I can't handle my business", "I'm scatterbrained", "I'm feeble", "I can't be alone". Helping will cause someone to see you as their enemy, and to them, enemies have to be destroyed. There is no better way to do it than to spread lies and rumors, devalue you and your efforts, and break your spirit. Surely that will send you running for the hills. Maybe it used to. 
Words are powerful, but when a cause is more powerful, it might take a while, but you learn to overlook the words. They're just noise. 
One of the best ways to abate noise-- and hang on to your joy-- is to meditate on the truth.

LESSONS FROM ESTHER

That's the Book of Esther, by the way, not Aunt Esther.

1. In the case of a noble, just cause, if it's going to get done whether you do it or not, why not let it be you?
2. Don't forget the real reason you're there. (wherever you are)
3. Evaluate the situation. It may not be that great, after all.
4. Someone on the outside looking in shouldn't know more about what's really going on than you do.
5. To a ruthless person, everyone is dispensable--even loved ones.
6. If you're one among many, "favored" takes on a new, not so favorable meaning.
7. People shouldn't expect more of you than they are willing to give.
8. Maintain your standards.
9. Make informed decisions.
10. Good advice often comes at inopportune times.
11. Read carefully. Sometimes the main idea or moral isn't what everyone thinks it
is.
12. Never forget who you are.
13. Good opportunities will not require that you check your integrity at the door.

FRIDAY THOUGHTS: POETRY PROMPT--COMMUNICATION

Every teacher I had said, "Think before you speak."
Write only about what you know
Now, I wonder if I just start talking, or writing
Whose friend won't I be any more?

You don't have to say all that pops into your head
You don't have to write down every thought
There is such a thing as discretion, and
Some sacred things
Should just stay as they ought

What have we become?
Are we really communicating?
Are we friendly and sweet,
Or cowardly and mean?

Do we no longer care

Are our words now so useless

Reckless, tiring

And grossly obscene?

I want to hear an actual voice
I want to look into eyes that are real
I want to feel and communicate
Not always have to decipher 

Meanings you've tried to conceal

I don't want to see colons; parentheses
I want to see a real smile

Are we really in such a hurry these days

Will we not see real words for a while?

There's really nothing like human interaction
There's so much that you, too, can convey
Have abbreviations, emoticons, and our new gadgets
Left us scrambling for real words to say?

Every teacher I had said "Think before you speak"
Now I'm speaking
I hope that today
We'll all take a little time from the keyboard
And greet loved ones and friends, face to face