I’m so glad I didn’t end it when I became paralyzed 3 years ago! I was really, really close to doing just that…. 😳 but I stuck it out and I am so thankful that I did! I realized I can still do everything I used to be able to do, I just have to figure out a different way to do it.
I started a business to help me financially if anybody likes beef jerky it would sure help me out if you could go to my website and buy a bag my website is jerkybiz.org
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“We are sun and moon, dear friend; we are sea and land. It is not our purpose to become each other; it is to recognize each other, to learn to see the other and honor him for what he is: each the other’s opposite and complement.”
― Hermann Hesse, Narcissus and Goldmund
We recently received our first award here at Survivors Blog Here from Rob Goldstein. Rob’s blog, Art by Rob Goldstein, is a collection of writing, poetry, art, and photographs that support his theme of living with dissociative identity disorder (DID) and the right to full access to health care for people with mental illnesses. Rob’s many works give us a close-up view of the struggle with DID and the challenges of health care for chronic illness. Rob’s talent and honest forthright approach humanizes this struggle by bringing it out into the light and showing us the face of a spirit that strives to live a normal and productive life, to gain acceptance by dispelling fear and judgement, and to educate us with a gentle touch and calm tone. Thank you Rob! You are an inspiration and a true Liebster in the WordPress community. Continue reading “We’ve Been Liebstered!”→
Love is an untamed force. When we try to control it, it destroys us. When we try to imprison it, it enslaves us. When we try to understand it, it leaves us feeling lost and confused. ― Paulo Coelho
Love is an untamed force. Indeed. I’ve spent a lifetime trying to understand it and in the end realized that the torture of asking why, what if, and if only served to deepen the wounds of memories whose sharp rusted edges tear and bruise one’s heart and spirit each moment they live above the surface of that restive cauldron that never cools. I’ve realized that it’s the mind that eventually falters and in time the pitted patina of our youthful losses fade into a gray-blue surreal scene with black edges and dark contrasts. Peace comes when the mind hears and no longer recognizes the sound of that first anguished cry. Continue reading “LITTLE CREEK”→
This is a repost of a chapter from one of my short stories. It wasn’t very popular as far as likes, comments or views. It seems counter intuitive to beat that old dead horse again here. I replay it because much is said about post traumatic stress disorder in service members but it’s not well understood by the public. It can manifest years after the event as the memories suddenly drift in like a cold breeze through a forgotten open door. Internal dialog of scenes long forgotten play out when and wherever they will – triggered by a thought, sound, a vision, a taste or smell. Continue reading “The End of War”→
“Every child is an artist. The problem is how to remain an artist once she grows up.”
― Pablo Picasso
My grand-daughter is seven and has been an avid art student since she first painted an epic battle scene between dots, circles, and lines on my living room wall at one year old. She is a fifth generation student of the Garden of Darkness and Light. Her grand parents have immersed her in music, art, writing, math, science, and literature. Continue reading “A Child in the Garden of Darkness and Light”→
“We are travelers on a cosmic journey, stardust, swirling and dancing in the eddies and whirlpools of infinity. Life is eternal. We have stopped for a moment to encounter each other, to meet, to love, to share. This is a precious moment. It is a little parenthesis in eternity.” ― Paulo Coelho, The Alchemist
I promised myself long ago that my life would be a walk with eternity. I didn’t pray to be spared sickness, heartache or any dark moment life can bring. When those dark moments found me, I never prayed for the light, a cure, a way around. I prayed for strength to carry on. Continue reading “A Walk With Eternity”→
I lived for the wind upon my face. Rain and sun cleansed me; But, the wind was my fate. No storm pushed me from its path. I stood steadfast and strong. In time, the work I lived to do, Nourished the soil and did no wrong. My toil was the measure of my worth, And all rejoiced in song. I turned to the wind and gave my life, My reward a productive earth. But, then I aged and skipped a beat, My body bent and worn. I’ll not die an untimely death, brought down by grueling pace, My value from me torn. I’ll stand erect, locked in my stance, And weather every storm. I shall simply live for the wind upon my face.