I lived in New York when Eliot Spitzer ran for Attorney General. I liked him. I voted for him. And I am quite disappointed in him right now. But as usual, I have a little different opinion on things than most people do and I think it needs to be taken into consideration.
I think people that choose to serve in public office should be commended. From what I can tell it is a difficult life. You travel from place to place asking people to vote for you. After you do that you ask people to go out and ask OTHER people to spread the word that you are a great person and that they should vote for you. You ask rich people to give you money so you can make it into office and then, when they do, you worry about how much access they will want to you, and how many special interests they’ll have once you get in office. Then you ask THOSE rich people to ask their rich friends to give you money because you’re such a great person and you’ll be really great in office for all the things rich people need.
Then you go to the poor side of town where they don’t have so much money, but they really need a hard working person in office to stand up for their rights. You tell them that you’re a really swell person and you won’t let big business or big government walk all over the hard working people of the state. So they give you a little bit of money and tell you that they will tell all their friends to vote for you because you’re a really honest, hard working person that they can trust. And you just hope that they don’t find out how rich some of your friends are.
All during the campaign your family supports you and wishes you well, even though they miss you so much because you are on the road all the time trying to get elected. It is a hard journey, but they know you want it and they want you to be happy and fulfilled in your work.
Once in a while you might make a bad decision or do something you know isn’t moral or ethical, but what the heck? Everybody does it, and no one will ever know anyway. So it will be ok. And all the good people of the state get you elected and you are very grateful and you are a good person and you work really hard. Sometimes you have a bad day and make a bad decision, but for the most part you are a really good public servant. You do well by the people.
Then, that day comes when someone finds out about a bad decision you made one day way back when…. It was a very bad day, indeed. It may have been the worst day you ever had, and the worst decision you ever made. But now everyone knows about it and you have to face up to it. You have worked all your life for the people of this state, the country, and it boils down the worst day you ever had. Is that fair? Is that right? You put bad people in jail. You put good people to work. You gave sick people money so they didn’t have to work and could look after their families. You gave hard working people raises, better healthcare, safer cities, better education, safer toys, safer water, more opportunities. You did you best most every day you went to the office. You hired the best people you knew to help you do your best. And it comes down to the worst day you ever had in your life?
I don’t have all the answers. Not by a long shot. I don’t know if public servants should be held to a higher standard than the rest of us. I don’t know if private lives that happen behind closed doors should be public record just because you are a public person. But I do know this: I don’t want to have to answer for the worst day of my life and have it erase every good thing I ever did. I know Eliot Spitzer broke the law, but why does he have to leave his job? He put away more bad people than I could in my lifetime. Doesn’t that count for something? I’d divorce his ass, make him pay a HUGE fine, but make him leave his job? I’m just not sure.
America says its a “Christian” country. For those of you confused on the concept that means “Christ-like”. Christ’s best schtick was forgiveness - its what he was known for, you might say! It seems like America sits around waiting for the next person to screw up so we can nail them to the cross (pardon the pun). Unless we start forgiving people for being human we are quickly going to run out of folks that are willing to run for public office. Indeed, it seems like a waste of human assets as well as monetary assets to get people into places where they can do us good just to watch them fall from grace. It was wrong to do it to Bill Clinton. Eliot Spitzer’s circumstances are a little different, but where does it end?
Friday, July 10, 2009
I don’t think I had my headache before I left the house this afternoon. Everything was going swimmingly; it had been a productive morning. I even got a little catnap in before my doctor appointment this afternoon. I arrived in plenty of time to check-in and do all the paperwork. There was one person at each window, so I got to choose which person I wanted to stand behind (the woman on the right, please) and I struck my pose. Just then, the guy on the left finished with his business and vacated the check-in window. Cool! I’m in luck! No more line-standing for me!
Nope. Spoke too soon. Some woman comes flying in from nowhere, walked straight up to the window, sideswiped me, and took her place as numero uno in line on the left. There I am; left looking every bit the fool in the middle of the floor, which is where I stayed because NOW I refuse to choose a line for fear of having THAT happen again!
The lovely woman in front of me finished up in no time (”See,” I tell myself, “and you made such a big deal of it!”) So I stepped up to the window, did my thing, and turned around to head over to sit down and this woman cut in right in front of me and took my seat. I’m serious! It wasn’t the same woman, mind you, it was a different one. But there I am, AGAIN, standing in the middle of the floor, looking like a fool. But this time I decided to REALLY own it. For affect I said, “Must be one of those days.” There. I showed them. Not sure WHAT, but I showed them.
OK, surely the bad karma was limited to that doctor’s office. So I bee-bopped outta there to get my bloodwork done. Yippee! LOVE those vacutubes. As a professional patient (when you’ve had a chronic illness for as long as I have that is one term out of many that we call ourselves) one of the tricks of the trade (similar to how one would handle a two-year-old) is to take the patient out for a little “treat”. Its been a long time since I’ve resorted to the “take the patient out for a treat” method of reward, so I decided an ice cream cone would be an appropriate reward. I head into my favorite ice cream place and what meets my eyes but an empty store front. Yes, the ice cream space is up for lease. Aaaarrrggghhh!!!! Where does a girl go in this tiny little town to get ice cream, anyway? Charlotte?? DC??!!!!
Sorry, lost my head a moment. I placated myself with one of those .99 cent frozen thingys at Wendy’s. Then I went over to Bear Stearns and opened a new account. It just wasn’t my day.
Nope. Spoke too soon. Some woman comes flying in from nowhere, walked straight up to the window, sideswiped me, and took her place as numero uno in line on the left. There I am; left looking every bit the fool in the middle of the floor, which is where I stayed because NOW I refuse to choose a line for fear of having THAT happen again!
The lovely woman in front of me finished up in no time (”See,” I tell myself, “and you made such a big deal of it!”) So I stepped up to the window, did my thing, and turned around to head over to sit down and this woman cut in right in front of me and took my seat. I’m serious! It wasn’t the same woman, mind you, it was a different one. But there I am, AGAIN, standing in the middle of the floor, looking like a fool. But this time I decided to REALLY own it. For affect I said, “Must be one of those days.” There. I showed them. Not sure WHAT, but I showed them.
OK, surely the bad karma was limited to that doctor’s office. So I bee-bopped outta there to get my bloodwork done. Yippee! LOVE those vacutubes. As a professional patient (when you’ve had a chronic illness for as long as I have that is one term out of many that we call ourselves) one of the tricks of the trade (similar to how one would handle a two-year-old) is to take the patient out for a little “treat”. Its been a long time since I’ve resorted to the “take the patient out for a treat” method of reward, so I decided an ice cream cone would be an appropriate reward. I head into my favorite ice cream place and what meets my eyes but an empty store front. Yes, the ice cream space is up for lease. Aaaarrrggghhh!!!! Where does a girl go in this tiny little town to get ice cream, anyway? Charlotte?? DC??!!!!
Sorry, lost my head a moment. I placated myself with one of those .99 cent frozen thingys at Wendy’s. Then I went over to Bear Stearns and opened a new account. It just wasn’t my day.
Thursday, July 9, 2009
Quantum Physics and the 12 Steps - Set your intentions and GO!
The older I get the more I realize how many different ways we complicate our lives from day to day. We think inside these tiny little belief systems we have set up for ourselves when, in actuality, if we would just open up our minds (which is a really scary proposition for most of us) it would make things so much simpler. I realize that is counterintuitive to most of us. Opening up one’s mind to new things would seem to make life more complicated. But it doesn’t. Not in the long run. New ideas, education, and creative ways of looking at the same old thing actually helps to clarify rather than muddy the waters. It is only the small mind that sees things as complicated.
Did Bill W. and Dr. Bob (the founders of Alcoholics Anonymous) stumble onto intent and quantum physics back in the 1930’s? Long before we started to understand them as we do today? My train of thought on this started when I opened my very large, outspoken mouth about something. Normally I’m the only one that gets hurt when I do this. Lately, however, I’m in a position to hurt others if what I say doesn’t come to fruition. I remembered this only AFTER the fact, though, and realized I’d better do some meditating and set my intent.
For those of you who are now questioning my sanity and are thinking I may be nuts, before you say, “bye-bye! Its been nice knowing you!”, do some googling. Better yet, read some books on the subject. Some of my best friends have written some of the best ones! Call it what you will: Quantum Physics, Energy Work, Epigenetic Medicine/Healing, Psychic powers, a Sixth Sense, Meditation, The Law of Attraction; the science is there to back it all up. Its not magic, its physics. Having been raised by a scientist I wouldn’t believe in it either if it couldn’t be proven.
[Back to my story] So I went to Focus level 12, set my intent and, as it looks now, things are going to work out fine. If they don’t, I even know why and it will be for the best. After all, everything works for good (hey - I didn’t make up the rules of the universe, I just happen to understand them).
Here’s the thing: Step One of the 12 Steps says: We admitted we were powerless over alcohol [or name your poison], that our lives had become unmanageable. Since I am not an alcoholic - I am what is often referred to as the “co-alcoholic” (thus my familiarity with The 12 Steps) - the part that really grabs me is the “life being out of control” part. That’s where I used to live; that was my phone number. No more. Now, when I feel my life slowly (or not so slowly) spinning out of control I know what I’m doing wrong and I take immediate steps to fix it. I take my life back, set my intentions, and go. It really is that simple. Why did I ever make it more complicated? When I keep myself at the center of my world it is very easy to juggle a dozen other things, and do it well. Doesn’t make any sense, does it? OK, it doesn’t always work perfectly. When I hit perfection you’ll be the first to know. My point is that 90% of the time I have serenity, happiness, goals, a life I love, things I’m working toward, a family that supports me. What else do you need? OK, a democrat in the White House. But other than that…
Did Bill W. and Dr. Bob (the founders of Alcoholics Anonymous) stumble onto intent and quantum physics back in the 1930’s? Long before we started to understand them as we do today? My train of thought on this started when I opened my very large, outspoken mouth about something. Normally I’m the only one that gets hurt when I do this. Lately, however, I’m in a position to hurt others if what I say doesn’t come to fruition. I remembered this only AFTER the fact, though, and realized I’d better do some meditating and set my intent.
For those of you who are now questioning my sanity and are thinking I may be nuts, before you say, “bye-bye! Its been nice knowing you!”, do some googling. Better yet, read some books on the subject. Some of my best friends have written some of the best ones! Call it what you will: Quantum Physics, Energy Work, Epigenetic Medicine/Healing, Psychic powers, a Sixth Sense, Meditation, The Law of Attraction; the science is there to back it all up. Its not magic, its physics. Having been raised by a scientist I wouldn’t believe in it either if it couldn’t be proven.
[Back to my story] So I went to Focus level 12, set my intent and, as it looks now, things are going to work out fine. If they don’t, I even know why and it will be for the best. After all, everything works for good (hey - I didn’t make up the rules of the universe, I just happen to understand them).
Here’s the thing: Step One of the 12 Steps says: We admitted we were powerless over alcohol [or name your poison], that our lives had become unmanageable. Since I am not an alcoholic - I am what is often referred to as the “co-alcoholic” (thus my familiarity with The 12 Steps) - the part that really grabs me is the “life being out of control” part. That’s where I used to live; that was my phone number. No more. Now, when I feel my life slowly (or not so slowly) spinning out of control I know what I’m doing wrong and I take immediate steps to fix it. I take my life back, set my intentions, and go. It really is that simple. Why did I ever make it more complicated? When I keep myself at the center of my world it is very easy to juggle a dozen other things, and do it well. Doesn’t make any sense, does it? OK, it doesn’t always work perfectly. When I hit perfection you’ll be the first to know. My point is that 90% of the time I have serenity, happiness, goals, a life I love, things I’m working toward, a family that supports me. What else do you need? OK, a democrat in the White House. But other than that…
You've got the wrong "-ism"
I’ve heard snippits of the speech Obama gave today; moreover however, I have read the speech. It is a good speech. It addresses all the things it should. I think it was well written, and from what I’ve seen it was well delivered. I think he is correct on many of the issues so I can’t really tell you why, but he just didn’t set my soul on fire. In fact, nothing this man has said has held a candle to his performance at the Democratic Convention 4 years ago.
I’m hit by one of the things his minister, Jeremiah Wright, said. He pointed out that Hillary has never been called a nigger. OK. He’s got a point. No one is going to argue with him on that. But I doubt that anyone has ever called Obama a cunt, either. Hillary has been called a cunt. I know this, without a doubt. COUNTLESS people in this country, and probably even abroad, have called Hillary a cunt. I don’t know about you, but in my opinion that is the most horrible thing you can call a woman. It doesn’t get any worse than that. That is the lowest of the low. I have talked this over with numerous friends, both male and female, and we all agree. There are appropriate times for almost every other word that could possibly insult a woman; but not cunt. Without exception, if you are called a cunt you are being insulted.
As far as I’m concerned the country - at least a big part of it - has it all wrong. Race is not the main problem here. There is a far worse hatred tearing this country apart. Its sexism. There is far more sexism in this country than racism. If not, then how did this country abolish slavery, demand equal access and education for all races, but not pass the ERA? How can it be that when a woman is murdered it is almost always by her husband or boyfriend? How did the government get away with testing drugs on men only - even breast cancer drugs - until a little over a decade ago? Is the answer because for a long time its been mostly men in charge, mostly men making the decisions? Men design cars; consequently I’ve never really been comfortable driving a car. I’m short, petite, and I usually have to use a pillow behind my back to drive the car correctly. Men design houses; I can never reach the top or back of the shelf in the kitchens. Things just aren’t made for women. These are just a few examples.
I know this opens up a huge can of worms. And I’m sure it sounds like I hate men. I don’t. But I do resent the fact that half of the population wasn’t taken into consideration when things were being designed. Wouldn’t you? Think about it for a moment. I resent that those in power (read as: men) don’t take sexism more seriously when women’s lives literally hang in the balance. When women live on food and shelter subsidies because they can’t feed their children and their husbands (that are long gone) aren’t forced to continue to pay child support and alimony, I resent that no one seems to take situations like that seriously. I resent men making decisions about what women should do with their bodies when men can’t have babies, men hardly ever seem to want the responsibility for babies, and have no idea what it takes to truly care for a baby. When you guys are faced with a pregnancy that is unplanned and you realize the ramifications and consequences of that - come talk to me. Until then, you have no right to share your opinion. It is between me, my maker, and my doctor. Butt out.
Sexism is so engrained in our society that we barely even notice it. All the political correctness in the world isn’t going to fix it. We have to rethink EVERYTHING. One woman president isn’t going to touch the problem, but its a start. And its about time.
I’m hit by one of the things his minister, Jeremiah Wright, said. He pointed out that Hillary has never been called a nigger. OK. He’s got a point. No one is going to argue with him on that. But I doubt that anyone has ever called Obama a cunt, either. Hillary has been called a cunt. I know this, without a doubt. COUNTLESS people in this country, and probably even abroad, have called Hillary a cunt. I don’t know about you, but in my opinion that is the most horrible thing you can call a woman. It doesn’t get any worse than that. That is the lowest of the low. I have talked this over with numerous friends, both male and female, and we all agree. There are appropriate times for almost every other word that could possibly insult a woman; but not cunt. Without exception, if you are called a cunt you are being insulted.
As far as I’m concerned the country - at least a big part of it - has it all wrong. Race is not the main problem here. There is a far worse hatred tearing this country apart. Its sexism. There is far more sexism in this country than racism. If not, then how did this country abolish slavery, demand equal access and education for all races, but not pass the ERA? How can it be that when a woman is murdered it is almost always by her husband or boyfriend? How did the government get away with testing drugs on men only - even breast cancer drugs - until a little over a decade ago? Is the answer because for a long time its been mostly men in charge, mostly men making the decisions? Men design cars; consequently I’ve never really been comfortable driving a car. I’m short, petite, and I usually have to use a pillow behind my back to drive the car correctly. Men design houses; I can never reach the top or back of the shelf in the kitchens. Things just aren’t made for women. These are just a few examples.
I know this opens up a huge can of worms. And I’m sure it sounds like I hate men. I don’t. But I do resent the fact that half of the population wasn’t taken into consideration when things were being designed. Wouldn’t you? Think about it for a moment. I resent that those in power (read as: men) don’t take sexism more seriously when women’s lives literally hang in the balance. When women live on food and shelter subsidies because they can’t feed their children and their husbands (that are long gone) aren’t forced to continue to pay child support and alimony, I resent that no one seems to take situations like that seriously. I resent men making decisions about what women should do with their bodies when men can’t have babies, men hardly ever seem to want the responsibility for babies, and have no idea what it takes to truly care for a baby. When you guys are faced with a pregnancy that is unplanned and you realize the ramifications and consequences of that - come talk to me. Until then, you have no right to share your opinion. It is between me, my maker, and my doctor. Butt out.
Sexism is so engrained in our society that we barely even notice it. All the political correctness in the world isn’t going to fix it. We have to rethink EVERYTHING. One woman president isn’t going to touch the problem, but its a start. And its about time.
Dear Dad -
You won’t believe what’s going on. I’ve been crying off and on all day - but don’t worry. They are tears of joy. We finally have a good president again. And what’s more he’s black. You can’t believe the pictures of the people dancing in the streets. And not just in America; all over the world. Maybe it will be nice to be an American again.
His name is Barack Hussein Obama (if you can believe THAT!) He has a REALLY smart wife and two adorable children. People have been comparing him to John F. Kennedy, which is kinda bothersome but understandable. Everything you said about the economy and money has come true and I think people are just looking for a saviour. If anyone can fix it, it will be President Obama.
In the days leading up to the Inauguration there were stories of black men and women that were going to attend that had lived through years of picking cotton and were now going to be able to witness an African American taking the Oath of Office of President of the United States. Isn’t that amazing? There were stories of people going in place of family members who couldn’t get off work to attend the ceremony. There were stories of parents pulling their children out of school and driving across country so they could all see history being made together. There were stories of high school students skipping school to see Obama say the oath. And during the entire day of mayhem, celebration, and chaos there wasn’t one, NOT ONE arrest in the entire District of Columbia. How could there have been? There was too much love and peace and happiness being shared by the entire country.
I guess you probably know all of this since you seem to keep a close watch on me. Heck - for all I know you watched everything happen with Martin Luther King, Jr. and Abraham Lincoln! But I wanted to let you know how incredible it was for me, and I wish we could have watched it together. I would have liked to have taken away your wisdom about it. If it had been before you had ALS we could have attended it together. On second thought no - you wouldn’t have wanted to go.
Everything else is fine here. Except I miss you. I know you are having fun, though, not having ALS anymore. Thanks for coming back and visiting so often. It helps.
See you again soon -
Debi
You won’t believe what’s going on. I’ve been crying off and on all day - but don’t worry. They are tears of joy. We finally have a good president again. And what’s more he’s black. You can’t believe the pictures of the people dancing in the streets. And not just in America; all over the world. Maybe it will be nice to be an American again.
His name is Barack Hussein Obama (if you can believe THAT!) He has a REALLY smart wife and two adorable children. People have been comparing him to John F. Kennedy, which is kinda bothersome but understandable. Everything you said about the economy and money has come true and I think people are just looking for a saviour. If anyone can fix it, it will be President Obama.
In the days leading up to the Inauguration there were stories of black men and women that were going to attend that had lived through years of picking cotton and were now going to be able to witness an African American taking the Oath of Office of President of the United States. Isn’t that amazing? There were stories of people going in place of family members who couldn’t get off work to attend the ceremony. There were stories of parents pulling their children out of school and driving across country so they could all see history being made together. There were stories of high school students skipping school to see Obama say the oath. And during the entire day of mayhem, celebration, and chaos there wasn’t one, NOT ONE arrest in the entire District of Columbia. How could there have been? There was too much love and peace and happiness being shared by the entire country.
I guess you probably know all of this since you seem to keep a close watch on me. Heck - for all I know you watched everything happen with Martin Luther King, Jr. and Abraham Lincoln! But I wanted to let you know how incredible it was for me, and I wish we could have watched it together. I would have liked to have taken away your wisdom about it. If it had been before you had ALS we could have attended it together. On second thought no - you wouldn’t have wanted to go.
Everything else is fine here. Except I miss you. I know you are having fun, though, not having ALS anymore. Thanks for coming back and visiting so often. It helps.
See you again soon -
Debi
Roe v. Wade and President Obama
Today is the 36th anniversary of the Roe v. Wade decision. For the past three years NARAL Pro-choice and other women’s rights organizations have asked us to blog on the subject of keeping abortion safe and accessible. Blogging on this subject is not a hard thing for me to do. There are so many sub-headings that fall under the pro-choice and women’s rights subjects. And as much as I would like to tell you some of the many stories in my personal experience, they have asked us to answer the question “What is your top pro-choice hope for President Obama and/or the new Congress?”
I think my main hope is that the President AND the First Lady take up the conversation of abortion and keep it active, defending it at every turn. With everyone listening so closely to every word they say I feel they have a unique opportunity to share their feelings as to why they are pro-choice. I think it is important to bring more African Americans into the conversation about abortion because of a documentary I saw exactly one year ago today.
“Silent Choices” is a film made by Faith Pennick, and I was lucky enough to watch the documentary and take part in a question and answer session with her after the film at Bennett College last year to celebrate Roe’s 35th anniversary. The documentary brilliantly points out that most of us currently working to keep abortion safe and accessible are young, white females. It’s not that African Americans are against abortion en mass, it’s just that we as Caucasians don’t understand how complicated the issues are and how deep the emotions go when it comes to abortion and African American women.
Don’t get me wrong - I don’t mean to imply that the emotions surrounding abortion are easy for any of us. They are not. The issues are unique, personal, and should be left to a woman and her doctor. We all know, however, that often things just aren’t that simple. There is peer pressure, family pressure, religious pressure, and as is now pointed out in the documentary “Silent Choices”, a great deal of historical pressure when it comes to the African American community. It is definitely a documentary worth taking the time to see.Now that we finally have an African American President in this country I believe we can widen the conversation about abortion to include women of every ancestry and color. Indeed, I believe that this presidency can help us widen the conversation on all issues where America is found lacking. And wouldn’t that be a wonderful legacy for President Obama to leave us.
I think my main hope is that the President AND the First Lady take up the conversation of abortion and keep it active, defending it at every turn. With everyone listening so closely to every word they say I feel they have a unique opportunity to share their feelings as to why they are pro-choice. I think it is important to bring more African Americans into the conversation about abortion because of a documentary I saw exactly one year ago today.
“Silent Choices” is a film made by Faith Pennick, and I was lucky enough to watch the documentary and take part in a question and answer session with her after the film at Bennett College last year to celebrate Roe’s 35th anniversary. The documentary brilliantly points out that most of us currently working to keep abortion safe and accessible are young, white females. It’s not that African Americans are against abortion en mass, it’s just that we as Caucasians don’t understand how complicated the issues are and how deep the emotions go when it comes to abortion and African American women.
Don’t get me wrong - I don’t mean to imply that the emotions surrounding abortion are easy for any of us. They are not. The issues are unique, personal, and should be left to a woman and her doctor. We all know, however, that often things just aren’t that simple. There is peer pressure, family pressure, religious pressure, and as is now pointed out in the documentary “Silent Choices”, a great deal of historical pressure when it comes to the African American community. It is definitely a documentary worth taking the time to see.Now that we finally have an African American President in this country I believe we can widen the conversation about abortion to include women of every ancestry and color. Indeed, I believe that this presidency can help us widen the conversation on all issues where America is found lacking. And wouldn’t that be a wonderful legacy for President Obama to leave us.
Monday, March 9, 2009
The Story of Christian - The Irish Lad - and The Mermaid
Once upon a time there was an Irish lad named Christian. He was young, handsome, charismatic, and had always been able to get away with things he probably shouldn’t have.
One evening, while watching the sun slowly set below the horizon on a rocky beach he met a beautiful mermaid. He was immediately enchanted with her and she with him, but he was not yet finished with his schooling so she wished him well and they parted ways.
A few seasons later Christian visited the rocky beach and saw the beautiful mermaid again. This time he had finished his studies and was now helping to build the cement blocks that are so often seen on land. He was a fast learner and had mastered building these cement blocks very well, indeed. He was living a very good life. The mermaid, unimpressed with such things, but seeing that he had grown within himself now thought he might appreciate some of the world that she knew in her deep, blue ocean.
They began watching sunsets together as she would share stories about the life she lived beneath the waves of her ocean. She secretly hoped she was explaining it properly and using accurate words to describe her life, because it can be so hard to translate one’s own feelings and reality into a picture someone else can see and understand - especially when the differences are as vast as those between land and sea.
Christian, the Irish Lad, and the beautiful mermaid would try to spend as much time together as they could. But the cement blocks had to be built. And Christian was such an important part of getting the cement blocks built. There were times that Christian would tell the beautiful mermaid that he wanted to get away from making the cement blocks, and the beautiful mermaid would spend many passes of the moon preparing pretty rocks, finding the perfect coral bed, identifying fish-life, and memorizing the way to the most majestic caverns so that the time they spent together would be special. Alas, inevitably, Christian would be unable to break away from making the cement blocks for one reason or another. Whether it was exhaustion, demands for more and more cement blocks, or - as the mermaid sometimes suspected -shyness, intimidation, or fear of such a big, open ocean of possibility. Maybe Christian couldn’t see or understand (as the mermaid did) that there is no bad adventure or experience underwater or on the beach. Life lived in the freedom of the water and the love and acceptance of the warm beauty that surrounds it is all forgiving. It is all fun and games and should be approached as a child approaches a playground. There are many things to find out about, so many new and different things to see and do over and over again that each and every moment is an adventure; and adventures are WONDERFUL. There can be no wrong steps when you are both finding out together what the other likes about the places you visit.
As time and time again Christian could not come to the rocky beach the beautiful mermaid slowly began to realize that Christian may have been a quick study when it came to building the cement blocks that were so important on land, but in her beloved ocean world he was a stranger and could not understand the mindset needed to visit there. The reality was he might never understand or be able to come to the rocky beach again. It might just be too much for an Irish Lad that builds cement blocks - for whatever reason. As much as the mermaid wanted to share her ocean she could not make him come to the beach. This was very sad for the beautiful mermaid, for she believed no one should ever miss adventures and opportunities because of fear.
One day, many turns of the earth later, Christian again came to the rocky beach to visit the beautiful mermaid. This time, while they watched the sunset over the ocean he told the mermaid that he just didn’t understand how she could sit on the same rocky beach and watch the same sunset over and over again, year after year after year. The beautiful mermaid suddenly realized that for the many years she had known the handome Irish Lad she had never really seen the big picture. Maybe the beautiful mermaid had so hoped to share her world with Christian that she failed to see that an Irish land-locked Lad might not be able to understand her world at all. So the mermaid simply replied to Christian that yes, sunsets do make her bored, since that’s all she has watched for her whole life. “I thought so”, said Christian, and the beautiful mermaid began to cry. She had just lied about the very essence of who she was; she had just lied about sunsets, and - she had just lied.
Oh. And she realized she never really had a friend named Christian.
One evening, while watching the sun slowly set below the horizon on a rocky beach he met a beautiful mermaid. He was immediately enchanted with her and she with him, but he was not yet finished with his schooling so she wished him well and they parted ways.
A few seasons later Christian visited the rocky beach and saw the beautiful mermaid again. This time he had finished his studies and was now helping to build the cement blocks that are so often seen on land. He was a fast learner and had mastered building these cement blocks very well, indeed. He was living a very good life. The mermaid, unimpressed with such things, but seeing that he had grown within himself now thought he might appreciate some of the world that she knew in her deep, blue ocean.
They began watching sunsets together as she would share stories about the life she lived beneath the waves of her ocean. She secretly hoped she was explaining it properly and using accurate words to describe her life, because it can be so hard to translate one’s own feelings and reality into a picture someone else can see and understand - especially when the differences are as vast as those between land and sea.
Christian, the Irish Lad, and the beautiful mermaid would try to spend as much time together as they could. But the cement blocks had to be built. And Christian was such an important part of getting the cement blocks built. There were times that Christian would tell the beautiful mermaid that he wanted to get away from making the cement blocks, and the beautiful mermaid would spend many passes of the moon preparing pretty rocks, finding the perfect coral bed, identifying fish-life, and memorizing the way to the most majestic caverns so that the time they spent together would be special. Alas, inevitably, Christian would be unable to break away from making the cement blocks for one reason or another. Whether it was exhaustion, demands for more and more cement blocks, or - as the mermaid sometimes suspected -shyness, intimidation, or fear of such a big, open ocean of possibility. Maybe Christian couldn’t see or understand (as the mermaid did) that there is no bad adventure or experience underwater or on the beach. Life lived in the freedom of the water and the love and acceptance of the warm beauty that surrounds it is all forgiving. It is all fun and games and should be approached as a child approaches a playground. There are many things to find out about, so many new and different things to see and do over and over again that each and every moment is an adventure; and adventures are WONDERFUL. There can be no wrong steps when you are both finding out together what the other likes about the places you visit.
As time and time again Christian could not come to the rocky beach the beautiful mermaid slowly began to realize that Christian may have been a quick study when it came to building the cement blocks that were so important on land, but in her beloved ocean world he was a stranger and could not understand the mindset needed to visit there. The reality was he might never understand or be able to come to the rocky beach again. It might just be too much for an Irish Lad that builds cement blocks - for whatever reason. As much as the mermaid wanted to share her ocean she could not make him come to the beach. This was very sad for the beautiful mermaid, for she believed no one should ever miss adventures and opportunities because of fear.
One day, many turns of the earth later, Christian again came to the rocky beach to visit the beautiful mermaid. This time, while they watched the sunset over the ocean he told the mermaid that he just didn’t understand how she could sit on the same rocky beach and watch the same sunset over and over again, year after year after year. The beautiful mermaid suddenly realized that for the many years she had known the handome Irish Lad she had never really seen the big picture. Maybe the beautiful mermaid had so hoped to share her world with Christian that she failed to see that an Irish land-locked Lad might not be able to understand her world at all. So the mermaid simply replied to Christian that yes, sunsets do make her bored, since that’s all she has watched for her whole life. “I thought so”, said Christian, and the beautiful mermaid began to cry. She had just lied about the very essence of who she was; she had just lied about sunsets, and - she had just lied.
Oh. And she realized she never really had a friend named Christian.
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