Inquire, Inspire, Aspire
Update: Through His Disciples Eyes is now published. Click this link to buy at Amazon, or scroll down to read about the plot.
It’s almost ready. If all goes smoothly, my novel will be published this month of November (2022). I’m not good at selling my work, but I am especially proud of this book. It’s a very unusual plot.
When you contact the truth about you, you recognize that a great deal that you have come to accept about you is false. You are not better or worse than others. You are not stupid or brilliant, or handsome, or ugly. Those are just judgments someone made that you accepted. None of them are true.
~ Paul Ferrini, I am the Door
Many times other peoples’ behavior toward us can give us the wrong impression of who we are. It begins from birth. Parents start to see certain signs of a personality in a baby and assign the child an attribute. Some parents may even tell a child what that attribute is (and other quirks they notice) as s/he grows. For example, stubborn, smart, sensitive, shy, outgoing, etc.
I’ve often heard people ask why news programs only share the terrible problems of the world. Even in years long ago when we only had nightly news at six and ten, they reported bad events happening locally and internationally.
Continue reading “Not Your Average Good News, Bad News Story”
Over the past several months, I’ve been posting quotes from the author Paul Ferrini. There are poetic lines in his writing that move me deeply, as if they embrace my very soul. The first one that really touched me I posted back in 2018. His words have made an impact on my life, and I hoped they might help console other souls who come across my blog.
At my wedding reception in the (ahem) 80s, I remember telling someone, “When we are on our fifteen-year anniversary it’ll be the year 2000!” Since it was my wedding day, and 
we were only married for a couple of hours, fifteen years seemed like an eternity. And we’d be old!
The turn of the century seemed like science fiction to me. A time and space that was beyond my capacity to comprehend. My future seemed bright, but also scary. Would our marriage make it? Would we have children? Would we both even live to the year 2000 and beyond to grow old together?
Here we are, June 1st, 2022 and both of us completely forgot our anniversary until it was upon us. Is thirty-seven years the magic number when it’s no longer a big deal?
In the “real” world, it’s better to have loved and lost, tried and failed, dreamed and missed, than to sit out your turn in fear. Because the loss, the failure, and the miss, however painful, are like temporary market adjustments . . . Whereas the love, the adventure, and the dream are like investments that, for the rest of your life and beyond, never stop paying dividends. – Mike Dooley, The Complete Notes from the Universe.
My heart feels for people who want rules or laws to stop others from using words that hurt feelings.
I first noticed society becoming divided back in 2005.
In order to avoid my fate, I stopped living.
Last week was the first time I returned to the blogging world in a little over two months, and I posted a deep, heavy subject about control. This week I thought I’d go with a lighter subject to share a little bit about what I’ve been up to, and maybe even a tiny spark of hope.
Continue reading “Photos, Fiction, Friends, Fun, Flowers, and Faith”
Welcome folks. It’s been a while since I posted something, and I’ve had some deep thoughts I want to share.
So much has been happening in our society in 2020, and reports everywhere make it sound like the sky is falling. It’s difficult to decipher what is true and what is false. Is this more “chicken little” paranoia, or are we really getting toppled by the falling sky?
Why is it that some people feel they can control everything? From celebrities defying the aging process, to the weather, to a virus, to human behavior—at times it seems like certain folks think they can cheat death itself. Why do they believe they can bend everything to their will? Continue reading “The Battle”
I’ve loved lilacs ever since I was a child swinging on our old rusty swing set next to a lilac bush in the back yard. I dreamed of having my own when I grew up. Except, when I did grow up, I moved to Florida where lilac bushes don’t grow.
PREFACE to this post: I drafted this article before the orchestrated violence began occurring in United States cities. This subject matter does not directly coincide with those riots. However, the upheaval of emotions over it are linked to the topic of this blog. I hope you’ll stick around for the rest, because I think it’s an important message.
***
It’s called a crime of passion if a man catches his wife being unfaithful and then murders her lover.
It’s called a crime of passion if a woman catches her husband being unfaithful and murders him.
Does the term “crime of passion” make the act of murder palatable? Do we make it okay to commit murder because they loved and trusted their spouse and they merely reacted from hurt and betrayal?
Of course not.
They made their decisions out of pure emotion. Could our society be making decisions from emotion, and in turn, ruining our lives?
What if you had information that could save people? What if you took that information to the media, but they switched it around to make it sound like your information was dangerous instead of life-saving? You might ask, why would anyone want to keep away life-saving information from the public? That’s what I’d like to know, too, and it’s why I always research everything I’m told.
Allow me to give an example.
Have you ever experienced times when there is so much going on that you can’t even think straight? How about when you’re emotional about something? Have you ever been so angry your emotions took over and your mind froze? How about grief? Have you ever been deep in sadness and no thoughts mattered . . . only your grief mattered?
How many people do you know that are able to humble themselves enough to admit when they’re wrong?
What kinds of situations are there where someone might be wrong?
If you’re old enough, you may remember the Frank Sinatra song, It Was A Very Good Year. I only know it because my dad was a huge Sinatra fan. He used to play his music in the car on 8-track all the time. I remember this was one of the few crooner songs I didn’t mind him playing. The melancholy melody moved me.
Side note: I’m a rocker, so my dad and I clashed when it came to music.
I mention this line of the song, because I’ve been thinking about what it was like to be a teenager. Do you remember? Were you insecure or secure? Were you a rebel? How did you feel inside? Were you confident or unsure? Scared or brave? Naïve or street smart? Happy or lonely?
We hear lots of recklessly assigned labels in our society these days. You know, homophobe, misogynist, xenophobe, racist, fascist, etc. These words are used to say that someone hates a particular group of people.
So, what kind of a “ist” or phobe is someone who hates ALL people?
Lori's Lane 