* 50 Shades of BenGay

It’s hard to say what truly was my favorite Christmas of all time, as there were many. I’m sure though it must have been one from my childhood. There is magic in a child’s heart that knows mystery and love in a pure fashion unencumbered by most world woes. Magic, lights, fantasy. Such is the mix of Christmas - at least it was in my middle-class suburban mind back in the 1960’s. My daddy was the pastor of a big Lutheran church where momma taught at the Lutheran school. She also wrote and directed the Christmas Eve program in those saintly days of yore. We managed to pull off five services any given year. Being of musical decent, I usually sang at all the services, or played the harp, or violin, or all of them – depending on the mood of my mother that year. Nothing like having your mom also be your manager. (Listen to link; “Someday” and “We Sense a Fountain” as you read – if you want...) MSL Lutheran’s did church big and with elaborate pageantry. My poor Presbyterian church has b

Trying to be authentic amidst the insanity of this election.  Watching friends show their backsides on Facebook is an interesting twist -  especially professionals who ought to know better.  We all have strong opinions and can back them up with our own logic and reason.   Why, for some, it comes out as bitter prattle is beyond me. And yet as I write those words I know where bitterness comes from as I saw some of my own arise as of late. Damn, it’s a nuisance and total waste of energy. One can’t do anything to change the past - no matter how hard one tries. But there it is… Bitterness is a tricky wicket.  It’s Hurt. Painful hurt that is locked up in the closet hiding under the washcloths. You know it’s in your house somewhere as you smell it rotting but can’t quite put your finger on it as you walk by it every day.  You can feel it too.  The slow burn in your craw that won’t go away – and it’s giving you a headache – but for the life of you, you paint your make-up on every mo

Have you ever really wanted to run away?  I mean as an adult, legitimately pack up your house, put it on the market, hop in your car and leave for destination unknown? I think we all have at one point in time.  Biggest problem I see with this ‘Great Escape’ is not surviving the months of the sluggish housing market, but rather facing the fact that we have to take ourselves along with us wherever we go. Too bad we can’t leave the memories, hurts, angers, or fears in the house for the real estate agent to ditch along with the outdated bathrooms and linoleum counter tops. The longer we live, the more we see those suckers are permanently attached to us - which is probably the reason I am still here in my living room and not lounging about on the Riviera. Well, that and a lack of an abundant cash flow.  Anyways, we deal with our wounds in such creative ways. We try to shop them away sometimes.  Ignoring them is an option – but that usually brings its good friend Neurosis along for

The quiet darkness of the morning invites my soul to breath. It’s been a challenging week – but I laugh off that thought when I think to the Syrian refuges. I pray for them as my heart absorbs peace with gratitude for all I see around me.  How blessed am I sitting here in the dark awaiting the dawn. There are dark woods behind every home.  Most people spend a lifetime (and a fortune) avoiding going into those woods as indeed scary beasts live there.  Real beasts that can kill unless Grace sweeps though and shields. Unfortunately, I was hurled deep in the woods years ago and spent a great deal of time yelling for help.  After many years the damsel finally got the memo: “No one is coming to save you -  get off your duff and start walking.”  Begrudgingly I did – but bemoaned my fate and mumbling socially accepted obscenities to the mud whilst trying to maintain some semblance of dignity.  More than once the cloak of anger and bargaining kept me warm after the sun went down.  Acceptan

Major Announcement!! (drum roll please).   I am formally retiring from UNC-FSU at the end of this term. After mom died I climbed off the Tenure bus and have only been part time… but still I was going to wait a year to retire - which is what I said last year. Yes, I know, neurosis has many faces and dubious lures. This winter however I watched myself running full tilt doing many things partially to my liking.   The term half-assed comes to mind. Granted, being ADD is a commercial license for multi-tasking… however multiple unfinished projects kept staring me in the face.   For umpteen years I had been racing to stay inches in front of the rampaging boulder that was careening down the path behind me.   Habit, I suppose, kept me at that pace as life is gentler now and the need is gone.   I will now have time to teach in different ways.   My Sunday School class, Better Living and Wellness lectures, and even do more volunteering at schools.   I will always love Children’s Theatre and w