The Other Worlds of Night part 2

In the first part of this post, I talked about my own experiences and began to explore different theories of dreaming.  Most dream theorists believe that dreams are either largely or all symbolic.  I agree that a lot of our dreams can be symbolic.  But I also believe, as some other dream theorists believe, that dreams serve to enlighten us and teach us things.  They can hold answers that we may not necessarily be apparent to us in our waking life.  Most dream theorists would tell you that dreams never tell you things you already know.  The reason why is that our dreams originate in our unconscious and subconscious states of mind.  Our unconscious is the part of our either knowledge or intuition that is not quite aware to us.  However, it holds a lot of clues to our understanding, about ourselves, our emotions, and situations in our lives.  Dreams are that almost magical bridge between our not knowing and knowing things.  I knew an individual who began to have reoccurring dreams about driving down their street and seeing a for sale sign on their home.  This person was also telling close friends that they noticed major changes in their spouse.  It was disclosed several months later that the spouse was having an extramarital affair.  The dreamer was aware on some level what was happening but just wasn't quite aware.  But they "knew" and their dream was one of the first voices to say something.  A major change was happening which did affect the happy home (or seemingly.)  After the affair was revealed, the dream made perfect sense to the dreamer.   Many people report having dreams like this. People are perceptive and may not know the truth of everything, but they are good at picking up on clues and things around them that do not seem right to them.  Dreams can hold the answers that elude them in waking life, or they can provide an answer where there does not seem to be one immediately available.   There is also the concept of a "precognitive" dream where dreamers will dream about events that occur in the future.  Infamously, Abraham Lincoln purportedly had a dream about his assassination around ten days before he was shot and killed.  Those to me are out of the realm of science and so I will not focus much on them.  But, I will not confirm or discount their existence.  A lot of dream work and interpretation cannot be measured in scientific terms.  The fact that we do dream and our brain activity can absolutely be confirmed.  So, I will be open to all people's experiences.

How can you use dreams in your favor?  Here are some helpful ideas:

1. Be open to the idea that your dreams are a part of you and exist to help you improve your life.  I have found that it is fascinating to explore this part of my life and appreciate everything that it does for me.  I strongly encourage anyone who might be on the fence, see it as insignificant, etc. to keep an open mind.  

2. Pay attention to your dreams and begin to give thought to them during your waking time.

3. Keep a journal.  Journals are a great way of helping you to understand your dreams.  Sometimes just putting them in written form can help you to understand what might not make sense when you think about them.  It is like when you were in school and had to make a presentation.  Maybe you knew in your head what you wanted to say.  But when it came out, it made sense to everyone you were trying to reach.  Dreams are the same way.

4.  Take a stab an interpreting your dreams.  When you do so, take a long look at your life and what is currently happening.  Are you worried that your job might be going away?  Maybe you lack closure from a failed relationship.  Is your child exhibiting behavioral changes that concern you but you can't put your finger on it?  Pay attention to the people and characters in your dream.  Is there a certain color that jumps out at you?  What about the place?  Is it familiar to you, or is it totally unfamiliar?  Is it a place you know but does not look the way that you know it to be?  

5. Ask for help or do further research if you are stymied by a dream.  There are a lot of great resources online that I am going to post, but those are just a few of many.  If something concerns you, your clergy member or a therapist may be able to help out.  Or, if you have a friend like me who studies dream interpretation, reach out and ask them.  I can confidently say that we all exist to help fellow dreamers.

I have only scratched the surface of this fascinating world of dreaming.  I might post more specific topics related to this in future posts.  But for now, happy dreaming!  I wish you the best in this wonderful unique world that we experience every night.

 For more information:

This site has a lot of everything from symbols, a dream dictionary, even forums to discuss dreams:

Your Online Source For Dream Interpretations (dreammoods.com)

A comprehensive look at color in dreams:

The Meaning of Colors: Color Symbolism in Our Dreams (journeyintodreams.com)

Here is an extremely comprehensive list of books about dreaming:

Resources - Professional Dream Interpretation LLC

This is a very comprehensive website devoted to all things about dream interpretation:

Dream Interpretation | Jungian Analysis

An interesting article on the difference between the U.S. and other cultures and how dreams are viewed:

Opinion | To Dream in Different Cultures - The New York Times (nytimes.com)

The Other Worlds of Night part 1

 I was walking down the alley as a child of around eight years of age on a warm, sunny afternoon.  The walk was very casual and uneventful.  I was looking into people's yards as I passed through.  Everyone had their doors open, and I could see different people's kitchens.  I looked into one kitchen, and there was a display of kitchen knives on a wooden block, hanging on the wall.  A man who seemed to be in his 50s saw me looking in, grabbed one of the knives and started chasing me down the alley.  I just outran him before I got to my yard and quickly shut the gate.  I was safe.  And obviously I am safe, because this was just a dream.  It was a reoccurring dream, actually, and I had this several times over throughout my childhood.  I suppose the die was cast with that.  I have always been interested in dreams, the analyzing of dreams, and dream work.  In fact, I participate in a group of wonderful ladies where we meet regularly and help each other and ourselves discover what our dreams mean to us.

Dreams are not just powerful to me.  They have been written about as long as human history has been recorded.  Every major religion has stories in their holy books about dreams, interpretations of dreams, and the role that they play in our lives.  Spirituality in its various forms also sees dreams as spiritual exercises given either by our conscious or some sort of external loving force for our good.  Ancient societies as well as modern indigenous groups have strong beliefs and practices regarding dreams.  Some of our most creative and influential minds have relied on things revealed to them in dreams.  For example, Albert Einstein dreamed about his Theory of Relativity and then explored it in waking life.  The rest is history.  Dreaming can be very simple, or it can be very complex.  Some people have the ability to "lucid dream"- dreaming while being aware that one is in a dream.  I have that ability and had my first lucid dream in June of 2018.  It was a dream where I was in an active shooting situation in a church.  Yes, weird why I would feel the need to stick with it, but I did.  I was aware that I was dreaming but I chose to stay with the dream until a telemarketer called me at around 8:45 a.m. and woke me up.  I have had numerous lucid dreams after that.  What is interesting about them is that I have also decided that I did not want to participate in the dream and wake up.  For example, I was walking down the hall of a hospital wearing a hospital gown and (thank god!) a robe.  A nurse showed me to a room with a sick older woman laying in the bed of the room that I was supposed to stay in as a patient.  I was aware of it and decided that I did not feel like continuing in a dream where I was sick.  Some people have written about the ability during lucid dreams to problem solve or direct the dream in the direction they want it to go.  I am not one of those people.  My abilities with lucid dreaming is just to be aware of the fact that I am dreaming and whether or not I stay with the dream and for how long.  

Sometimes people fear dreams because they are scary, as in the case of my childhood dream.  But, it is important to remember that they should not be considered as scary.  Most dream theorists, including pioneers like Sigmund Freud and Carl Jung, believe that dreams are largely symbolic.  Whereas we may be fearing that we are being chased by a criminal or a snake in a dream, we are not literally being chased by them.  Instead, we are being faced with a nefarious person or situation in our lives.  The snake may be a toxic job or coworker; the criminal chasing you might be a bad situation in your life.  It may be increasing debt, the deterioration of a relationship, or a medical issue which may be deteriorating.  Or, there might be other people in the dreams called "archetypes"- people who signify a general concept.  A warrior, the hero, a king or queen, a bully, a goddess, an idealized partner, all of these people you might dream about are reminiscent of tales you heard growing up, fables, mythology, or the like.  Someone you may know in waking life may remind you of a romantic partner, or a fearless soldier.  And, according to a lot of dream theorists like Carl Jung, that person is indeed yourself!  There is a belief that every individual character in a dream is a part of yourself or your subconscious or your personality.  

So, how can you know what your own dreams are trying to tell you?  They are definitely trying to tell you something, of that you can be certain.  Since that could be a very long answer, I am going to answer that in part 2 of this topic.  

The Wisdom of the Young

 All of us have met a variety of young people in our lives, whether it be classmates growing up, children who are now a part of our family, children and teenagers who are your neighbors, or attend the same church.  I was a child who was always very observant about the world around me.  That was true of many, many of my classmates, but I only realized it as an adult.  "Philip" was a student at a school I attended, around 9 years old.  Philip's father was an alcoholic.  He did not have a mother who lived with them.  How did I know that?  Because other students told the story about him.  There may have been other students with the same experiences, but Philip was labeled as a behavioral problem and thus more well-known among his peers.  I had enough interactions with Philip to realize that he was nowhere near as misbehaved as teachers made him out to be.  Maybe a bit of a trickster, but he never had serious anger issues.  I think perhaps he had ADHD.  At that young age, I did not understand what alcoholism was.  I thought of an alcoholic as a man laying in the streets passed out.  I did not realize that alcoholics were parents, teachers, co-workers, CEOs of corporations.  I used to feel bad for Philip because of his contstantly being subjected to discipline.  As an adult, I feel even worse for him that he had to live with a neglectful father, possibly abusive.  Philip certainly got to reprieve from his home life at school.  He never got a break, really.  Everywhere he was, there was a problem.  One of my classmates ran into him as an adult, and I am happy to say that he seems to have his life in order after such a tumultuous childhood.  

"Luke" was a classmate in high school.  When I first met him, I heard from several of his friends that he lived with a stepfather who was constantly verbally abusing him and occasionally punched him in the face.  Luke was angry and reactive.  In fact, I was a target of his anger, and sometimes he scared me.  I may have not known why he was so angry, but those around him did.  And those of his friends, for whatever reason, decided to share his story with those of us who were not Luke's friends.  Especially when I got to high school, I heard more and more of those stories.  My classmates were always very aware of the lives of their peers.  There were several students at my school whose grandparents were raising them because their parents had legal problems, unable to parent, etc.  Everyone seemed to know what the problems of their fellow classmates were.  Again, it did not strike me at the time.  Developmentally, none of us were able to fully conceptualize what all of these things meant.  But when I picked up my newspaper a few years after graduation and saw that Luke had committed an egregious murder, I was not at all surprised.  Completely heartbroken for his victim, yes.  Surprised, no.  I do not think anyone who knew Luke in high school was surprised, either.  

My schooling was a very up and down experience.  The high times were when I was a public school student.  The low times were when I was a student at a private school.  It just was a horrible experience from start to finish.  I had headaches contstantly, I felt tense, sometimes it was hard for me to even be hungry.  And I was anxious, although I didn't realize at the time.  But my body was telling me that something was wrong.  I approached my parents about leaving the private school because of the things that were happening there.  Unfortunately, they did not listen to me.  Part of that, I believe, is that like many adults, they did not recognize that young people can articulate for themselves and know what is best for them at times.  Of course, this is not talking about letting your child do dangerous things or something which would not be in their best interests.  This was me, as a young but perceptive individual, saying that I was suffering and needed to be removed from a situation.

When I was in college, I worked as a teacher in a preschool.  I worked in a classroom with later 3-year-olds and younger 4-year-olds.  I was warned about "Brandon" by the teachers.  He was a behavior problem, I was to really monitor his activities, they kept him on a very strict regimen, moreso than any other student.  And when I met him for the first time, Brandon did not disappoint. He came running into the classroom like a whirlwind.  The other teacher in the room, "Rebecca" immediately put him in time out.  I thought, what an introduction.  Truthfully, I was nowhere near as rattled by him running as Rebecca was.  Of course, it is not a good idea for a child to be running for safety reasons.  But that day, I immediately saw the dynamic between Brandon and Rebecca.  Everything he did, she kept him in a box.  Even if Brandon tried to speak to her, she was very dismissive, told him to sit down, etc.  The children had nap time in the afternoon, and Brandon had trouble falling asleep.  We mostly took our breaks during that time.  Sometimes I would see Brandon walk up to Rebecca and try and talk with her.  She would immediately tell him, "Sit down, go back your on your mat and go to sleep."  Brandon could never sleep.  When Rebecca was on her break and I was the only teacher in the classroom, Brandon would come up and talk to me.  You know what I did?  I listened to him.  He talked about how he was going to be an older brother, about his cat, and stories about home.  They weren't very profound conversations, but it was enough.  After I talked to him for just a few minutes, Brandon would go back and fall asleep and get the nap he needed.  As our life paths would have it, I reconnected with Brandon.  He did have ADHD but proudly overcame his challenges to graduate high school.  

All of these experiences made me realize two things.  First, children and teenagers are much more wise than we realize and give them credit for.  They know about the pains of their friends and classmates, even if they do not fully understand the ramifications.  In my case, I knew what was a bad situation.  I was able to articulate what was wrong in my school and how those problems were affecting me.  And that brings me to my second realization.  Parents and adults are entirely too dismissive of the young.  Sometimes they do not realize that their children are often as perceptive as they are and that they know what they are talking about.  Or, even more disheartening, they look at children like Philip and Brandon and label them as they see fit.  They're "trouble" and need to be reigned in.  They do not deserve to be listened to, they just need to be put in a box and told what to do.  Having these realizations make me much more sensitive than most when I listen to children and teenagers.  And I have been able to have many meaningful conversations with them as a result.  One of the more profound ones was when I encountered a teenage girl who found out she was pregnant.  I listened to her without judgement as she talked about how terrified she was to tell her parents.  She needed someone to listen who just listened and would not yell or threaten her.  I do not know what happened in her situation, but I can only hope for the best.  I hope she remembers that someone actually did listen and hear her fear when she needed it the most. 

I suspect that if you are reading this, you do have an interest in young people.  If you do not already have this realization about how wise young people are, please read this with an open mind.  Next time you encounter a child who might seem different that their peers, take the time to understand why.  Do not ever dismiss the "complaints" of a child.  Children do know and understand their world around them.  Sometimes they are even wiser than the adults around them.  I honor all of the wise young souls who I know, those who I do not know, and those with whom I will come in contact in the future.  I hear you and I see you.  You are wise.  

Plans, Reality, and The Unexpected

 A year ago, I was enjoying what I thought was going to be the last summer at my house.  Of course, we were all stuck at home, so I was spending a lot of time out in my yard.  My yard is my sanctuary.  I can sit out in the day and read and enjoy the nature; at night, I can sit out for hours and just look at the sky.  I will miss that, but it was time to be moving along.  My plans were that I was going to move sometime in the fall.  It is now summer 2021, and I am still here in my current home.  I am on some waiting lists for several apartment complexes in the area, but I am still not sure whether a home or apartment is right for me at this time in my life.  Some things are very much up in the air.  But I trust life enough that there is a new place for me, with new neighbors to meet, new experiences, and it will a place that meets my needs.  Why am I still here?  There is a complex answer for that.  Part of it is that with the pandemic, housing of various forms is not readily available.  The other part was that there were financial realities of the situation.  Last summer, I experienced a completely unexpected loss in my life.  I was not in any way expecting it, so I had to take the money I was saving towards the move and apply to expenses towards the loss.  I was also a bit overwhelmed and did not likely have the energy for such a big change after such an unexpected time of grief.  As fall turned into winter, I decided that I did not want to try and move when I would need to anticipate snow, ice storms, etc.  I said March I would be willing to move and start the process.  Whichever placed opened up, that was where I would go.  

Last year around this time, I checked my work email on a random Tuesday night because I had forgotten to order an accessory I needed for my laptop and needed to find out what to order.  I never in a million years expected the email that was waiting for me.  A longtime employee was leaving at the end of the week.  Did I want to take over the responsibilities of his job?  Hell yeah!  It was one of the crown glory positions.  I was pretty much managing one of the other accounts, and I enjoyed it.  However, their company was furloughing its employees due to the pandemic, and a lot of our work was drying up there.  The months of April and May were a bit lean, and so was my pay.  Problem solved!  I moved into the role very well.  I did it with my full attention and devotion from that day on.  At the end of last year, my company was anticipating a large new contract with a new company, and my boss wanted me to work on that when it started.  I was thoroughly enjoying what I was doing and did not want to move to the new account, but good luck telling your boss that.  To my own credit and abilities as a worker, my boss wanted someone experienced and who had good communication skills to be able to teach others what to do.  My responsibilities were given away as of March 1.  And there was a major problem-the new company and mine were not coming to a satisfactory agreement.  There was no contract.  My responsibilities were given away based on a contract which did not even exist.  I tried very hard to get even half of my responsibilities back, but my boss would not budge. I had a few things to do each week, and I mean a few.  My income was decreased over 75 percent.  Then things got ugly.  For privacy reasons, I will not get into it.  But, I learned that it was not a good place for me to be.  My boss was never a warm and fuzzy person, but I saw an even worse side.  I needed a new job.  And it could not have possibly come at a worse time with the summer coming up and really needing to get out of here.  Nothing was changing with the project until around a month ago.  The contract did go forward, and the new project began. I started on the new project because I still had not found a new job.  Any job is a good job when the bills need to be paid and you need every dollar coming in.  

A few weeks ago after having numerous training meetings for the new project, on a random afternoon, I got an email from my boss. If it was okay, I would be moved back to my old position.  Again, hell yeah!  I really missed it.  I know the job like the back of my hand, and I enjoyed the accounts I was working on.  I moved right back into it, and it was like no time had passed.  The reality, though, is that time had passed, and I still need a new job.  But, the crazy thing was, I thought I was moving on to a new job, not stalling where I am. I still do my job, but there is nothing left of me personally there.  When I move on from something emotionally, I never go back.  I am doing my duties but am still looking around for a new job.  Life had me back around the bend again, as it were.  

And that is the fascinating part of life.  Life is full of twists and turns.  My life has certainly had no shortage of challenges, and there was very rough part I hit at the end of 2015.  It got very narrow, and I knew that it was going to be a sink or swim time for me.  2016, I sunk.  The losses that I had at the end of 2015 were expected and not a shock, but they really left my life empty.  I had trouble going forward.  The holidays of 2016 in particular were rough.  I sat on Thanksgiving morning wondering how I even had the strength to get up and go to my family's celebration.  I did, and I always do.  I was still struggling well into 2017, and there were some more complex things that happened over that summer, none of which were positive.  At the end of 2017, I had the opportunity to hear a speaker and author who survived a near death experience.  I had to drag myself there that night, too.  His words resonated with me.  He discussed how when he was entering the death process that his whole life passed in front of him before his eyes.  He ended with, "We are all going to die sooner or later.  My hope for you is that when you get to that time and you see those things pass before your eyes, there are much more happier things than bad ones."  That night, I decided that I needed to somehow move on and give it one more shot.  I want to stress that I do not believe in that nonsense like "The Secret" and the New Age belief that when you put out intentions the universe lets everything line up in your favor.  But I will say that when I truly intended to move on, doors opened in my life like you would believe. And they all had one thing in common-they were totally unexpected.  And good.  The only bad unexpected in the past few years was the loss of last summer.  Everything else was good.  For example, a few months after that night, I got a call from a close relative on a random Monday morning.  They ran into another relative of mine who was a huge part of my life from the time I was a child.  There was some kind of feud and they did not speak for years.  That meant the rest of us were caught up in it as well.  On a Monday morning, they both ran into each other face-to-face at the grocery store.  Neither one could even determine why they stopped speaking.  They reconciled in the grocery store, on a random Monday morning.  Were they expecting that?  Probably not.  I sure as was not expecting to get a phone call with that story on a random Monday morning.  But I was very happy about it.  Now my long lost relative is once again a part of all of our lives, at family get togethers.  

I have had many other times like this in my life where just randomly, things happened. And other times, what seems lost in the moment or for a long time will come back around.  We just don't know when. Maybe I will share those stories some other time.  But for now, I will conclude with this.  Life is rather unexpected, but it is what makes things so much fun.  These past three and a half years have been totally not what I thought they would be.  They are actually much more interesting, happy, and full of new people and experiences than I would have believed possible.  I have adopted the life philosophy of "expect the unexpected."  On this day approaching mid-June, I am still at my current home and at my current job, but I expect both to change sometime within the next several months.  

So, what's next for me?  I really don't know!  But what do know is that I look forward to it, because the unexpected has been very good for me.  And I love new things and new experiences.  Stay tuned, I will surely talk about them all.  

Gods, Goddesses, and the Parents Who Raise Them

 I spent part of my education in a small, private religious school.  It was so small that several grades were combined.  Our teacher was "Mrs. Gilmore."  Mrs. Gilmore had a daughter who was one year older than me and another one year younger.  She grew up in a family where her brother was the shining star of the family, and she let everybody know about it.  Mrs. Gilmore would stop classes to give lectures on how she "demanded" respect from us, rambled on about her brother and how he did everything right, how she was neglected, etc. on a weekly basis.  As an adult, I realize that she needed professional help.  In addition to her lectures, damn the torpedoes, her daughters were not going to be slighted in any way, shape, or form.  The older daughter "Terry" was the shining star of the family.  She sang, played the piano, when she got old enough she played the limited sports that the school offered. Terry was hard to get to know.  She had a few close friends who were somewhat cliquish, and that was it.  I never really gravitated to her because she seemed rather guarded and not very much available.  Mrs. Gilmore's younger daughter "Louise" was likely academically gifted.  She was very smart and motivated, but she was also extremely withdrawn and very quiet.  Louise had one friend, but she was always nice to interact with.  I felt more comfortable with her than Terry.  Mrs. Gilmore saw students who were as equally or more talented than her daughter not as the special children that they were; rather, they were a threat.  I was always a good student, and I excelled academically.  When I wanted to take certain courses, my mother had to go to the school and fight for that to happen.  The workbooks I needed "disappeared" and mysteriously reappeared when my mother paid a visit to the school and demanded that Mrs. Gilmore search her cabinets.  My best friend "Katherine" was a hell of a lot better athlete than Terry was.  There were times outright where Mrs. Gilmore told Katherine she was not allowed to play in games because her academics were not up to par, but she gave no evidence of that.  Terry was to be the best player on the team at all times, nobody else could be.  And then there were the school awards nights.  There were a few categories where children had the opportunity to work towards goals and earn awards for that, but mostly these were made up.  Every year, the rest of us students and parents sat rolling our eyes at each other because the Gilmore daughters won just about every award that Mrs. Gilmore could create for them.  My final year at that school, they took home 24 awards between them.  Because my friend Katherine remained at the school until her graduation, she asked me to attend.  As a surprise to no one, Terry was the valedictorian.  The minute the ceremony started, Terry started crying.  Everyone else seemed happy; Terry was a mess.  When she got up to give her speech, Terry started sobbing and could barely get through the speech.  Katherine's mother told us that she realized her time was up.  She was going off to college, and Mrs. Gilmore could not be on campus to orchestrate her daughter's success.  As an adult, I think Terry realized that she was ill-prepared to go out into the world.  The summer between her freshman and sophomore year, Terry got married and never came back to this area.  My mother thought that she was running away from her life with her mother and took the first way out.  

I have a relative who works in childrens' sports and also in high school sports.  Believe me when I say, there are a lot of wonderful students who I have seen play out their high school careers, and I feel like a mother hen when they graduate.  They come from wonderful families who encouraged them and taught them that sports are about more than winning and losing.  On the flip side of things, I have heard the stories about parents who believe their child is much better than they actually are.  How their children deserve to be playing more, why their child deserves to be on a team when they have not reached the team level as of that time, etc.  And there are parents who are quite vicious about it.  They are demanding, they attack the referees/umpires/coaches abilities, and sometimes even their character.  What are children learning when their parents try and bully others into bending the rules for their children and allowing them to participate when they are not that talented?  More disturbing, they are raising a group of children who believe the rules to do not apply to them.  They believe they are special, deserve better treatment, and can be monsters as an adult.  In my state, there was heated debate about whether sports, particularly high school sports, could be played during the pandemic.  In the end, there were no massive outbreaks of COVID, and everything was completed rather safely.  My concern was that I saw parents ardently arguing that their children deserved to play, even when we did not know if it was safe to do so.  They were not willing to accept no not because their children were not appreciated, but because there was a major health crisis and we simply did not know in the beginning if a deadly disease would claim the lives of young people.  In the same manner as the Gilmore daughters, eventually their parents will not be able to pressure the chancellor of a university to get their way or the head of a company when they want a dream job and someone else gets it.  

I realize something as an adult that I did not realize as a child or teenager.  Children like the Gilmore daughters, or any child who is pushed by their parents to fulfill their unmet emotional needs are not the enemy.  They deserve compassion and understanding.  Those children are certainly not getting it at home.  My best friend's mother worked at our school and got to know a lot of us in high school.  Years later, we had a conversation about our class valedictorian "Melissa."  Much like Terry, Melissa was involved in many activities, was on several sports teams, etc.  I felt about Melissa like I did Terry.  Melissa had only one good girlfriend and had a clique with boys and girls around her, but she was also very guarded and hard to get to know.  She wasn't unpleasant by any means, but I never could get anywhere close to her.  When told this to my friend's mother, she told me a totally different observation.  "I saw Melissa as an absolutely terrified young woman who was constantly walking around trying not to make one mistake."  And she was right.  When you are trying to co-exist with children who are being pushed unrealistically into the visions their parents see of them, it can be difficult.  In the case of Mrs. Gilmore, I and my fellow students felt the results of it personally.  But, those children and teenagers are suffering and really do not have the same opportunities to just sit back and be a kid.  Or, they can take to toxic behaviors such as drugs, alcohol, and eating disorders in at attempt to cope.  

In closing, I would say that there are no easy fixes for this because this is not on the children, it is on their parents.  I have no doubt that it is difficult when you grow up feeling slighted because of sibling, or maybe you had a parent with unrealistic expectations, you had low self-esteem growing up, etc.  It is not your children's job to fill up those holes.  It is yours.  Lord knows there is help and counseling available to work through these things as an adult as you become aware of them.  I think that is where the major problem is here.  A lot of adults still lack the insight into their own emotions, thoughts, and behaviors.  Every single one of us encounters people like that every single day, and they do have the potential to make every person they cross have a miserable day, even if not about their children.

If you are an adult and reading this, think of the children or teenagers who have these types of parents with compassion and understanding.  Understand that deep down, they are perhaps lonelier than the children around them.  Say a prayer for them, or send good thoughts, or simply be nice to them if you interact with them.  Or, if they are close to you, let them be themselves around you even if for a few minutes.  They deserve that.  

The Wonder of Books

 One of the wonderful women who opened my childhood to a world of stories, Beverly Clearly, recently left this realm at 104 years young.  Apparently I was not alone, as I saw very many touching tributes to her and her beloved characters like Ramona Quimby.  Like many, I also thought of Judy Blume who will always remain my first favorite author.  Both of these remarkable women and storytellers will forever be a piece of my childhood, and I am grateful for both of them.  I am also grateful for the love of reading that these special books had in my childhood.  I remember a lot of things, but I can't remember exactly which was the first Beverly Cleary book I read and in which grade.  What I do remember is in third grade, my wonderful teacher had a big tree along the wall with a cutout of our names.  There were a lot of branches, and the goal was to get to 125 books read by the end of the year, moving up the branches in increments of five.  I quickly jumped out to 15 books, ahead of all of my other classmates.  I moved steady up the tree the whole year, and I was the first student to make it to 125 books. I also had the highest number of books read the whole year.  That year, I wrote my own book, illustrated it, and my teacher helped me laminate the cover.  I sewed the pages together with yarn, took it to our wonderful school librarian, and she put it on display in our library.  I just always loved reading.  I love stories, whether creating them myself or reading others.  

I specifically remember the first time I met Judy Blume.  My fourth grade teacher started reading Tales of a Fourth Grade Nothing.  She read chapter one for us, and I was hooked.  It happened to be the weekend, so on a trip to our mall I went to Waldenbooks and purchased it myself.  I read the whole book that weekend.  Then came Superfudge, Iggie's House, Deenie, Blubber, Otherwise Known as Sheila the Great and Are You There God, It's Me Margaret.  A few years later, Just As Long As We're Together.  Judy's books reminded me in many ways of my own life, and she had such a keen way of articulating the ups, downs, joys and challenges of childhood.  She never shied away from tackling subjects which were considered taboo, but were nonetheless important for children to think about and discuss.  Thankfully, Judy ventured into writing for adults, so we are never without stories from her at any age in our lives.

The other books in my later childhood and teenage years which defined those years were Alfred Hitchcock and The Three Investigators.  When I was 12, I ventured into the library one summer and found The Mystery of The Moaning Cave.  I read it and couldn't get enough of the books.  I always loved mysteries, and these did not disappoint.  The creator, Robert Arthur, wrote mysteries for radio programs.  He imagined a world of children where they solved crimes without today's luxuries like a computer, GPS, tracking devices, etc.  I was taken back to southern California in the 1960s and 1970s where three intelligent, gutsy boys who tangled with art thieves, jewel thieves, international men of mystery and even royalty.  The books are still very much a part of my adult life.  I collected them around 15 years ago through the gift that is Ebay and still read them every summer.  In around a month or so, I will get them out and enjoy them on hot, sweaty summer evenings.  They are fun to read outside in your yard when it gets dark, or late at night like I used to do on summer nights.  

As an adult, I have read just about everything-biographies/autobiographies, mysteries, fiction, historical fiction, true stories, some crime novels and political memoirs.  I belong to a book club and we have had several hosts over the years.  One thing that they have had in common was that despite their own preferences, they always picked books which spoke to me.  I swear, there have been books which have helped me to answer some of the deeper questions we all have in life.  Some have provided healing for me and helped me to end what seemed like years of not being able to accept some of the events that I had no control over in my childhood and teenage years.  Within the last year, I have had the opportunity to read some excellent books which spoke to me in profound ways.  The first of those was Dear Edward by Ann Napolitano.  The protagonist in the book was the sole survivor of a plane crash.  While this was fictionalized, Ann found inspiration in the 2010 story of a young man who was the sole survivor of a plane crash.  She, like me, enjoys creating the end of stories for people who she finds curious.  The book explored the bigger questions of tragedy, healing afterwards, and about what path you find yourself on in this life because of it.  I recently finished Greenlights by Matthew McConaughey which spoke to me about the importance of knowing yourself, trusting your gut, and understanding which way to go in your life.  I have always considered myself to have a strong gut and understanding of myself, but sometimes life gets in the way.  What I learned from Greenlights is that when we do understand ourselves, it is the right path to follow. At this moment in time, I find myself in a very difficult position with my job. It was a reinforcement for me to know that I know what is best for me and to keep moving forward.  And then there was The Book Thief by Markus Zusak.  It is a book about a young girl whose mother was not able to properly take care of her in World War II Germany.  It is not a book for the faint of heart.  It is grueling and narrated by death.  But it also dares to go there and tries to give a voice to all of the horror of that time.  Most importantly, the protagonist in the books learned how to survive almost impossible circumstances.  Despite the theme of death, there was a lot of wisdom and hope of survival in this book.  There are many more I could write about, but those in particular really spoke to me in a strong and meaningful way.

I just love books.  When I go to a library or a bookstore, I walk out feeling invigorated.  I am excited and felt like I experienced the whole world.  You can experience the whole world in books.  You can see faraway lands, learn about cultures you never knew about, and still link the common humanity of all of us.  I enjoy biographies and autobiographies because I always love to learn about who people are, the experiences that shaped them, and how they find resilience.  I love fiction because someone had such creativity to birth characters and stories that entertain us or educate us.  I love stories which inspire me or provide me with some kind of wisdom.  Most importantly, I love the authors who have stories in them and need to tell them.  

THANK YOU to all of the wonderful authors who have touched my life.  You have given me so much. I had an author I really respect tell me that I have the soul of a writer.  Where does it go?  To be continued... 

The Good Side of Social Media

 There have always been two things that are true of me: 1. I have always been late to participating in trends and 2. I am a very private person.  Both of those things are not conducive to being a social media type of person.  I always perceived social media as more negative than positive.  I saw lots of fighting, opinions, and downright nastiness towards strangers. That isn't me off of a computer, and it is certainly not me behind screen, either.  Also, if you deal with difficult people in real life (as we all do), you may not want to subject yourself to that on an extended basis.  I did participate in message boards.  (For those young people reading, a message board was a place where you could interact with other Internet users lol.  Just kidding!  You probably know, but they are pretty much a thing of the past)  I enjoyed message boards because you talk about literally anything which interested you with other like-minded people.  Or not.  You might have shared a common hobby or interest, and all kinds of discussions broke out about other topics. Message boards afforded you privacy. If you chose to put pictures up of yourself, it was completely your choice. You could interact with others at your discretion.  I did meet some nice people over the years, but message boards started to die out in lieu of platforms like MySpace, Facebook, and Twitter.  I resisted for a long time, even though it meant I couldn't keep up with people like others do. It wasn't worth it to me to lose my privacy.  I did start reading some public pages, especially Twitter.  There were sportscasters in particular who provided up-to-date information that I appreciated.  It was nice to quickly find information.  Most of my family encouraged me to just sign up, never post anything, just get some information.

Fast forward to summer 2020.  I was grieving, having a really bad day, and I made a crazy for me decision.  I joined Twitter.  I joked with myself and said that people have done a lot worse.  I never intended to really post anything, just get some more streamlined information. But,  I got the opportunity to meet lots of nice Mets fans there.  I got to follow some of my favorite authors who have Twitter pages, I got much more up-to-the minute astronomy news than I ever did before.  And I started posting!  It was like the world's biggest message board.  Literally anything I could think of I could post about.  I have always enjoyed, even without a social media account, reading up-to-date reactions from people about TV shows, sporting events, and the news. On 9/11, I found myself drawn to the countless thousands of stories that were being posted, pictures of people at the World Trade Center during happier times.  It was like I could experience a collective experience with many others who felt the same way I did.  On January 6, I got on with thousands more, reading their real-time reactions to what was happening.  I really do like to connect with others over shared experiences.  I suspect a lot of other people do as well.  And I had a way to do it.  All of these things are good things for me.  I also decided going into it that anything in life is what you make of it.  If things got too intense, I reserved the right not to participate in discussions, etc.  And even though I am passionate about politics, I limit myself because lord knows I have enough discussions off of the computer.

I am not sure how what thread or who I was reading, but I came across a Twitter user whose goal was to end homelessness.  He had studied the issue over years and was in the process of starting a non-profit to put a program into place.  I have been working with the homeless population as well as those who are living in poverty since I graduated high school.  The first thing I did when I graduated was take a weeklong trip to New York City.  I got to see firsthand the lives of those living on the streets in the largest city in our country. A city with so much wealth, yet there was an out-of-control homeless population for whom little was being done. And we certainly have this problem in every city, including my own. Through my previous employment, I got to work with those living in poverty.  Things have only gotten worse over this past year.  And things will continue unless we have visionaries who really want to tackle this problem. I was not sure of the name of the poster, I knew his Twitter name.  I followed him, and I really looked forward to hearing his proposals. He kept people up-to-date on the progress he was making on his non-profit becoming a reality.  I thought that perhaps in the future he would be a voice that we would hear more from.  Perhaps our paths would even cross in real life.

On Easter morning, I was reading Twitter when a post came in from our advocate friend.  As it turns out, his real name was Scott.  I do not know his last name, just that his name was Scott.  Scott's sister came onto Twitter to tell us that he had passed away overnight.  Even though I never met Scott, I felt quite saddened by the news.  Scott had a real vision, and he was working to make this world a better place.  Nobody really knows much about him, and we all were wondering what might have happened.  What I do know is that Scott indeed was a real person like all of us, and I also know that he was a very dedicated son.  He took care of his mother very well, helping her get a COVID vaccination and took care of her when she recently broke her ribs.  Scott shared all of those experiences with us.  I shared my sadness with Scott's sister and now, there are over 2,000 messages on that thread.  Scott and his life touched many people, even though most of us only knew him via social media.  I ended up gaining a lot of followers that day as well.  They all seemed to be kind, caring people who shared the same values as Scott.  I am sad for Scott's family that they will always associate a holiday with his passing.  

The truth is, every single one of us is a living, breathing person behind a screen.  Whereas many people see a user online maybe as their screen name, or someone living far from them, we are not.  Even though some people see an opportunity to be a prick, most of us are glad to connect with others. We can meet people with common interests, and it can turn into something good.  It did for me.  Social media in a very backwards way helped me navigate a very difficult time in my life.  I had always wanted to start a blog, and now I am doing so.  The world is big, and having the ability to connect with anyone anywhere is nothing short of amazing.  I am so glad that I made that crazy for me decision to join Twitter.  It really has been good.  It helped me connect with wonderful people like Scott.

Godspeed, Scott.  You touched the lives of many people in ways you probably did not understand.  Rest assured, we will continue the work that you started in your life.  May you rest in peace, and your spirit will certainly live on.