Tag: JusJoJan26

aging

Morning Reading

Sally3 Comments

One of the ways that I organize my thoughts each morning is reading. It sets me on the right path for today.

Then, I copy a quote or two into my journal. Writing out the words, I believe, helps them stick in my brain.

This weekend, I am not at home. I could have sworn that I brought a pen with me, but it is nowhere to be found. It’s probably with my glasses.

I’m at an inn, not a chain hotel. If I were in a hotel room, I’m sure there would be a pen or two, a pad of paper or two, and far less charm than where I’m staying.

So, this morning, here is where I will copy the quote that struck me.

I’m reading a book called Aging: Growing Old in Church by Will Willimon. For the past several years, I have focused on one author each year. This year, I chose William Willimon, who somewhere between his first book, Between Two Advents, an early book of his, and this one, he shortened his name to Will instead of William. I’m curious about that.

I also wrote a letter to him, yet to be printed and mailed, asking if I could meet him toward the end of the year. When you read a lot of books by an author, you feel like you know him. My authors have all been deceased by the time I’m bingeing on them. Will(iam) Willimon is very much alive. Maybe I’ll get brave enough to send that letter.

Anyway, today’s quote:

The poet T.S. Eliot lists three ills of aging: ills of the body, ills of the world, and ills of the past… Some older persons are consumed with remorse due to life paths taken and not taken, fractured relationships, and regrettable life choices…. Nearly every Sunday the pastor invites us to ‘confess our sins to Almighty God,’ an invitation for everyone to unburden and leave their regrets at the altar. Jesus commanded us to forgive our enemies, and sometimes our greatest enemy is our vain attempt to live our lives without mistakes and regrets.

I believe that a fundamental secret of successful aging is learning to affirm the lives God gives us in the face of regret that God didn’t give us the lives we thought we needed to live happily.

This post is brought to you by the JusJoJan prompt: organ. What a great word! When I read it, organize immediately came to mind. Organ could also refer to your liver or kidney, or a musical instrument. Then there’s organic chemistry. And organisms. Even a word like ‘organization’ can go in different directions! So thank you, Kaye, for a great prompt!

Life

Lost

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One of my mother’s favorite sayings when something was lost was, “It’s always the last place you look.”

It’s funny, I suppose. I say it myself these days.

But it’s really NOT funny when you’ve lost something and looked EVERYWHERE. This has been the case for me this past week. I lost my new glasses. I have looked everywhere.

Everywhere.

And yet my mother keeps whispering in my ear, “Keep looking. It’s always the last place you look.”

Not helpful.

This post is brought to you by Linda Hill’s Stream of Consciousness Saturday for which the prompt was “favorite saying“.

poetry

The Cave

Sally13 Comments

The shadows flicker on the walls

Distorted images, truths, faces, facts
They grow, shrink, grow again, moving all the while

What am I seeing?
What is true?
I must escape this cave…

This song, The Cave by Mumford and Sons, has long been a favorite of mine. When it was in its auto-repeat phase for me, I was fascinated by the lyrics.

What does it mean to “Come out of the cave walking on your hands”? I looked it up. Those lyrics are a reference to both Plato and St. Francis of Assisi, who both sought to understand life.

The song challenges us to look at the world differently.

While not using the word “philosophy”, it IS a response to Sadje’s JusJoJan prompt: philosophy.

It’s also my attempt at a Cherita, the W3 challenge for this week. Cherita is the Malay word for story or tale.

A traditional cherita unfolds in three verses, each growing in length:
Verse 1: one line
Verse 2: two lines
Verse 3: three lines

Life

Symbiotic

Sally3 Comments

Okay — so there have been times in my life when I have started something and midway through stopped to ask, “Whose dumb idea was this?” Of course it was mine.

Of course it was.

When the JusJoJan prompt for today came up, I looked at the word — symbiotic — and thought, whose dumb was that?! I think you know the answer.

I had quickly submitted it as a prompt word while feeling very frustrated with the state of our country. We’re at odds with each other too much.

I think the beauty of our country has been that we don’t always have to agree. We are free to disagree. We are free to speak about what we believe. We are free to be who we want to be. AND we are free to seek a mutual good for us all.

Until now.

But I don’t want to focus on that.

Symbiosis is when two different species or organisms live intertwined lives.

Here are three different symbiotic relationships:

  • Commensalism
  • Mutualism
  • Parasitism

Commensialism is where one species benefits and the other remains neutral. An example is barnacles on whales. The barnacle benefits from the free ride and access to plankton; the whale is unaffected. In politics, it may be the politician who considers a bill doesn’t really affect his constituents and doesn’t come with a big pricetage. It may benefit another state significantly without costing him anything. He votes FOR it.

Mutualism is where both species benefit, like bees and flowers. In politics, this may be the behind-the-scenes negotiating on some big bill. The politician may say this part benefits me and that part benefits you. Let’s do it.

Parasitism is when one species benefits and the other is harmed. Ticks immediately come to mind. Blood-sucking disease-bearing arachnids that we can all do without. Political analogy? I’ll leave that up to you.

Life

A Matter of Opinion?

Sally8 Comments

I’m struggling — like most Americans these days. I watch the news and think I know beyond a doubt what I’m seeing. Yet, I have family members who watch the news and see something completely different.

I force myself to look at different news sources: Fox, CNN, Reuters, AP

I try to mentally sidestep to a different vantage point.

Personally, the immigrants I know are wonderful people. They have escaped repressive regimes. They have stories to tell. They love living and working here.

One friend, though, from Cuba, a naturalized citizen of the US, is afraid to leave her home these days. I told a family member about her.

“Why would she be afraid?” I was asked.

Umm… racial profiling? Her life experiences before the US? I could make guesses, but my life in no way mirrors her. I will never fully understand. But she’s my friend, and I can try to support her.

This shooting in Minneapolis? The videos are out and available, but everyone watches them differently. I see a woman who blocks the street with her vehicle, but then smiles at the officer, hands in plain view, and says, “I’m not mad at you.” Her partner is more aggressive, more profane. Is the driver trying to kill or harm the ICE officer? Judging her demeanor seconds before, I would say not. And someone (the officer?), after the shooting, can be heard saying “F*cking B*tch”. AND they won’t allow a doctor to attend to her.

But that’s how I see it. That’s my opinion.

An impartial and thorough investigation would be wise and prudent, but it doesn’t look like that’s going to happen either.

Judgments have been made.

I often wonder about Nazi Germany — and I know that even bringing it up sounds hostile. Still, at what point was the evil of Hitler clear? Was it when they were requiring yellow stars? Or was it when they were rounding people up onto cattle cars? Or was there some other trigger? What did mothers tell their children when this was happening to their neighbors?

I have family members — people I love — who see the ICE and Minneapolis thing differently. I found myself thinking about this poem this morning. Am I missing something? Am I not seeing the whole picture?

THE BLIND MEN AND THE ELEPHANT

by John Godfrey Saxe

IT was six men of Indostan
To learning much inclined,
Who went to see the Elephant
(Though all of them were blind),
That each by observation
Might satisfy his mind.

The First approached the Elephant,
And happening to fall
Against his broad and sturdy side,
At once began to bawl:
“God bless me!—but the Elephant
Is very like a wall!”

The Second, feeling of the tusk,
Cried: “Ho!—what have we here
So very round and smooth and sharp?
To me ‘t is mighty clear
This wonder of an Elephant
Is very like a spear!”

The Third approached the animal,
And happening to take
The squirming trunk within his hands,
Thus boldly up and spake:
“I see,” quoth he, “the Elephant
Is very like a snake!”

The Fourth reached out his eager hand,
And felt about the knee.
“What most this wondrous beast is like
Is mighty plain,” quoth he;
“‘T is clear enough the Elephant
Is very like a tree!”

The Fifth, who chanced to touch the ear,
Said: “E’en the blindest man
Can tell what this resembles most;
Deny the fact who can,
This marvel of an Elephant
Is very like a fan!”

The Sixth no sooner had begun
About the beast to grope,
Than, seizing on the swinging tail
That fell within his scope,
“I see,” quoth he, “the Elephant
Is very like a rope!”

And so these men of Indostan
Disputed loud and long,
Each in his own opinion
Exceeding stiff and strong,
Though each was partly in the right,
And all were in the wrong!

MORAL:

So, oft in theologic wars
The disputants, I ween,
Rail on in utter ignorance
Of what each other mean,
And prate about an Elephant
Not one of them has seen!

This is my response to JusJoJan’s prompt today: opinion

family · Writing

A Large Family

Sally9 Comments

Don’t get me started.

Family size is a personal decision.

I can’t tell you the number of rude things that have been said to me because of the number of children I have. I have eight.

“When are you going to stop?” — said to me by a woman at church when I was pregnant with #4. She later said to me after that baby was born — a daughter after three sons, “You got your girl, thank God. You can stop now.”

Another woman told me, “You have too many children.” This was when I had, I think, six. I responded by asking, “Which one should I get rid of?” I received no answer.

I haven’t gone to high school reunions, in large part because I didn’t want to spend my evening answering questions about my family size. That — plus the fact that while my classmates went on to pursue careers, I chose to be a stay-at-home mom. I didn’t really want to spend an evening at reunion answering the question, “What do you do?”

I chose to be a mom.

And it was, without a doubt, the right choice for me. It shaped me. It allowed me to be creative and loving and strong. I developed patience. I learned that I LOVE taking care of people.

So much so that I took care of my parents, too.

Did I resent doing that? Never. Not even for half a second.

Now, while my age-cohort is retiring, I’m just a few years into my first full-time job since 1984.

I have an office where I work. People stop in a lot to say hi, to talk, to complain, to suggest. I have an open door. Just the other day I was telling someone how being a mom prepared me for the constant interruptions of having an open-door policy in my office. When you’re a mom, you learn that your interruptions ARE your work. The same is true for me today.

A man stopped in my office yesterday. He often pokes his head in to say hello. He was a caregiver for his disabled wife the last few years of her life. He used to bring her to the gym and wheel her around in her wheelchair so she could have contact with other people.

Then she died.

And it turns that by coming to the gym he was building his own support system. He comes every day — not to work out so much as to visit with people. He makes the rounds, and I’m on them.

Anyway, he poked his head in, chatted about nothing, and then asked about my necklace. My youngest daughter gave it to me and I always wear it.

It has three discs: one that’s a tree, and two progressively larger ones with the names of my children around the edge. When you have a large family, you have to be creative about mother’s jewelry.

I explained the necklace to him.

“You have eight children,” he said incredulously.

“Yes,” I replied.

“Did you adopt some?”

“No.”

“Did you have twins or triplets?”

“No,” I told, “they were born one at a time.”

I turned around to grab the photo I have of them on my bulletin board.

“There’re all adults now,” I said, showing him the photo.

“You have eight children?!”

“Yes, this is them,” I said.

He was shaking his head. “You have eight children?!?!”

“Yes –”

He was backing out of the doorway. I was feeling rattled and small and angry and sad.

“You have eight children?” he said again. “I need to process this.”

“I’m still the same person you’ve been talking to for a year,” I called after him, but I don’t think he heard me.

Don’t get me started.

There are so many things that can define a person. Mistakes made while young. How they invested their life over the past four decades. What they are doing today.

I have eight children. They are amazing people and I’m so proud of them.

Really. Don’t get me started.

This overly-wordy post is my response to the Stream-of-Consciousness prompt: don’t get me started.

Linda Hill got me started on a rant.

poetry

Growing Old

Sally9 Comments

Aging is not an illness, a tragedy, or a problem awaiting a solution; aging is the price we pay for life which is a greater gift than we deserve.

Will Willimon, Aging: Growing Old in Church

I can’t remember names very well
But faces stick with me. And voices.
I’m still mobile and active.
As Monty Python said,
“I’m not dead yet” — so
Today I will
Celebrate —
Life is
Good!

Yes, I’m a senior citizen. No, I’m not old.

True story: I DO recognize people better by their voice than their face. And I remember their face better than their name.

Celebrate was the prompt for JusJoJan today. The nonet was just for fun.

poetry

The Old Homestead

Sally12 Comments

I grew up in this old famhouse. Here
I stumble over memories
Stub my toe on them even
Sorting is quite daunting
This house is haunting
Daily I try
To get one
More box
Done

This is my response to TWO prompts!

The JusJoJan prompt for the day is stumble.

The W3 prompt is: Write a Nonet about the new year — 2026. How does this year feel to you so far? Are you hopeful, uncertain, energized, reflective? Have you set any goals or intentions? Are there resolutions you’re excited (or nervous) about? My goal for the new year is to wrap up dealing with my parents’ estate.