|
by Bobbi Bartsch Curtis
I re-learned something very important today: communication is the basis for a relationship – any relationship. I’ve been in a managerial position for most of my working life. Most of the people who have worked with me would do so again. Many people on my lengthy list of email contacts are former employees. Some of my best and closest friends have worked with me (note: didn’t work for me, but with me). I think I learned how to be the kind of manager who is cared for by those with whom I’ve worked because of my father – a man who was so respected by his employees that, in the case where there were picket lines due to union disputes, was never stopped by the lines. Instead, space was cleared to allow him to pass. I do not know if this is an inherited trait or one that was learned, but I have thanked him many times for whatever it is that causes that kind of loyalty to come my way as well. I am not tooting my own horn. I find most of this both surprising and accidental (or by the grace of the Goddess). I am not taking credit for this other than the fact that I try to approach ever situation from a spiritual point of view and attempt to care for and be appreciative of people for their good qualities, although sometimes those qualities may be difficult to find. Today, I had to have a conversation with an employee who has been a challenge. To start the meat of the story, one must first note that my new team and I have been together for only 36 calendar days minus the standard 2 days off per week. This employee has created several confrontations with customers. This employee has not had a good track record for attendance. This employee has not had the best attitude. This employee has, however, done a wonderful and intelligent job when it has come to special projects, which were taken on by the employee without hesitation. However, at certain points, one is forced to take a stand. This employee wanted to leave early due to illness, yet again. I started our conversation with the standard speech about acceptable standards of attendance. I was not, shall we say, in the very best of moods since my 14-month-old granddaughter is back in the hospital as of this morning. My daughter, her mother, has two brain tumors, and we’re waiting to see if low-grade radiation treatments will help her avoid surgery. Things are not all sunshine and light in our lives right now. There were two people who had called out from work in the morning due to illness. Can I say that the last thing I really needed was another problem. This employee wanted to leave early due to “illness”. As the conversation continued, it became clear that this employee has had an ongoing issue, one that she has had great difficulty putting into words. Soon, we did, however, come to a meeting of the minds. I will not go into details, since they are not important to the lesson; and it is not mine to share the information that was given to me in confidence. The important part is this: it came to light that this young lady and I have many things in common – in particular the fact that we have problems in our lives over which we have very little control. Although our conversation started out with us at odds with each other, we both learned that we are human, that we have hurdles that seem impossible to jump over, but that we intend to go on, making the best of what is thrown at us. At the end of our conversation, we hugged and cried a bit. Somehow, we went from a clash to a loving understanding of each other’s problems, both personal and business. We grew together as people and created a relationship that, I think, will be hard to tear down. We grew in respect for each other. I believe that we will build a stronger bond as time goes by. Something tells me that she won’t be one of the employees I would rather live without any more. How did this happen? Communication. We talked. That’s all.
Be well.
|
|
by Bobbi Bartsch Curtis In a world of hurry and a land that is lauded as being of plenty, when do we stop, look around and say, “It’s been too long!” I think the time is now. As I listen to the news on radio and watch it on TV, my mind spins faster than Katrina. What have we become? Where are we going? How do we return to a path of love after so many paths of hate? I do not necessarily have answers to these questions. What I have is faith enough in all of you to know that we can make things change. There are many who spend much of their time working on viable solutions and attempting to create the love that is needed. They are online in forces that would boggle some minds – those who hate, in particular. They are in homes, right now, working on supportive projects, praying, sending healing, writing plans and blogging. They are in churches, setting up charitable projects, meeting to plan outreach programs, praying for the betterment of our times. They are working in offices of organizations that take on the tasks of increasing awareness, creating fund-raising activities, lobbying for a brighter future. There are not, however, enough who will actively pursue that brighter future. After all the centuries of hate and death, it now requires all of us to make that difference. NOW is TOO LONG! I have, in previous editorials, harped and pleaded for more to join the ranks of the active. I have not done this for some self-serving motive. All one needs to do is turn on the TV or radio or pick up a newspaper or news magazine to realize that things in the Middle East have gone too far – again and again and again. Our country is a mess. Prejudice runs rampant. Hatred and greed are the motivators of the day – to such a degree that those who are most greedy won’t even bother to respond to the fact that the end of the Earth as we know it is near. Their selfishness and need for self-gratification overcome even the predictions of the end of life on this planet – scientifically based predictions, you know, those things called “facts” . . . irrefutable facts. Liars and murderers run the country and most of the population sits at night, beer in hand, shaking their heads at the news commentators and asking how long it will be before the pizza comes. Oh, we chat at work about how horrible things are. Prices are up. There aren’t enough jobs. People are living in the street and eating garbage. And those poor, poor young men who died in that bombing yesterday – wasn’t that a shame. Oh, and how their families must feel right now – YOU DON’T KNOW HOW THEIR FAMILIES FEEL RIGHT NOW UNLESS YOU ARE A MEMBER OF ONE OF THOSE FAMILIES! There is one thing of which I would like to remind everyone: If you know that something is wrong and you do nothing to fix it, then you are equally as guilty as those who created the wrong-doing in the first place. Please don’t hem and haw and shake your heads with minimal feeling. Open your hearts until they break – like the parents, spouses and children of those who are dying in war; those who are wrongly accused of crime and imprisoned because the color of their skin is too dark; those who cannot find work and must watch their children starve or become sick and die because they cannot take them to a doctor; the list of inequities is so long . . . We, those who have something – you’re reading this on a computer, you have something – need to get ourselves motivated at least enough to have our voices heard. It is too long. Take some action. Show that you have love in your heart. Give of yourself. Find a cause and make a difference. Search your heart, search the internet and then do the right thing – for the greater good of all.
Be well! |
|
Surrender and Frisbees By Dan Schmucker 7 January 2007 Pride comes in a variety of forms. There is the type of pride that seems to have substance – that form which in the right combination of smoke and light, makes the smoke appear to be a solid form, maybe a column, when in reality it can not sustain any weight at all. Leaning on a column of smoke will result in a disappointing collapse. This is seen in the reliance upon Title or Family Name, as an example. When the flawed humanity behind the title or status is revealed, it becomes the fodder of gossip and shame. While not all forms are damaging, for example, Jesus being the Pride of His people, or being able to enjoy a task accomplished well while acknowledging the ability to perform it was a Gift from God, most forms do not share that glorious fortune. Most are damaging and yield pain and discomfort. My Pride demands Victory and Vindication, but Scripture clearly and correctly states the fact that pride goes before a fall. It’s pride that, if left unchecked, will keep me from confessing my weaknesses and faults, my sins of both omission and commission. It’s pride that prompts me to hide from my failures, while accentuating my successes. It is this pride that sets me up to compare myself to others in ways that are non-beneficial. My pride inhibits me from celebrating the successes and good fortunes of others… it tempts me to excuse their success, while pretentiously saying I am glad for them when, in fact, Envy has secretly crept in Pride paints me as heroic and noble, righteous and steadfast . . . while in Heaven it is seen as a pallet of disappearing paints. Even here on Earth, in the starkest of Realities, it is just paint. A covering. A shell. An appearance. A façade. A mask. Societal make-up. Cultural superficiality. How can I get past this morass of distorted imagery? The answer again seems paradoxical. It is in surrender that I really win. Paradoxical? Yes, perhaps. It is when I have nothing to lose that I experience the Freedom to really do something else. It is only when I release whatever I am clutching so desperately that I have the ability to take a firm hold of something else. Maybe it would help to take a look at this idea in a way that doesn’t sound like we are turning over the National Flag, or your valued and deeply held principles, which you wouldn’t surrender anyway. Maybe it would help if you saw this in a non-life threatening way. The struggle for us to vacate the negative Pride that precedes a fall often comes in more subtle forms. Picture yourself carrying around a black plastic trash bag stuffed and heavy, the contents of which are everything you don’t want anyone to know about you. You have become so fearful of discovery that you are lugging it around everywhere you go, dreadfully assured that you would be highly embarrassed if anyone were to have access to what is inside. While you are on your Journey, going through a park, you encounter a Friend holding a Frisbee. He asks you to play some Frisbee; and, of course you dutifully decline, because you are bearing the weight and responsibility of your burden. Despite seeing that you are shouldering your trusty black trash bag, He flings His Frisbee at you with incredible accuracy, heading straight for your forehead. You feel both immobilized and shocked. Here’s where you light up your decision tree. Ask yourself: “Is He nuts?” “Doesn’t He see this is my trusty trash bag that I am extremely attached to and protective of?” “If I don’t catch this Frisbee, it’s going to smack me right in my forehead. If I catch it, my trash bag will fall to the ground, and some of the contents will be exposed, or worse, the bag will burst open.” Being the strong willed individual, you doggedly endure the “DOINK” of the Frisbee smacking you in the forehead, as you angrily tell yourself it was better than the alternative. In disbelief, you watch as your Friend approaches you, but instead of proffering what you anticipate, your expected request for forgiveness, He reaches down, picks up the dreaded disc, and trots back a moderate distance, only to ready Himself to throw it at you again! With a sweeping smile on His face and an equally rangy arm motion, He flings the plastic disc at you again, straight for your nose. For some reason, you can’t move out of the way . . . you have only the option of catching the swirling disc, or dropping your protected cargo. “DOINK!” As if energetically training a beloved household dog, He trots into you again, bends down, and picks up the dreaded Frisbee. When He stands upright, He looks you in the eye, winks, and trots back to the same location He stood at the last time he hit you with the flying disc. He leans in toward you, looking the same way a baseball pitcher eyes the catcher’s mitt . . . “He wouldn’t!”, you tell yourself, but before the words have finished being framed in your mouth, the Frisbee is hurtling through space, directly at the bridge of your nose. It is not until we decide to drop the trash, and to take hold of what He is sending to us that we are relieved It is that act of surrendering our Pride that allows us to do something else. God has deadly aim . . . |
|
By Bobbi Bartsch Curtis
They (whoever they are) say that what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger. In times of adversity, we have to wonder why we need to be so strong. Maybe weakness isn’t so bad. Maybe it isn’t necessary to be so internally powerful. Maybe that isn’t really the key. The past year has been a “learning experience” with 500 pound dumbbells for my family. Believe you me, we are strong. There are some previous articles on this site that tell small parts of the tale, but the tale isn’t the lesson. If one is looking for lessons, they are certainly out there waiting to drop boulders on us; and, if one attempts the “that could never happen to me” approach, be aware that, yes indeed, whatever it is, it can happen. We do not expect our three month old to be dead in her crib. We do not expect the “authorities” to take our other children away because they seem to think that we killed our baby; so that, when we are grieving more than we thought possible, we are doing it alone and are afraid for our remaining children. We do not know what pain and trauma was caused to the twin of this three month old infant. She had never, ever been alone. Suddenly, she finds herself not only without her sister, but her mommy’s disappeared as well. Her two year old brother is wondering why he and one of his sisters is at their aunt’s house; but the other sister is, according to him, home with Mommy. Do you suppose he might have thought that Mommy didn’t want them? At least he can talk and be spoken to in an attempt to explain that his other sister is gone and never coming back, but what do you suppose was going through the mind of the three month old: “Ah, ah, ah.” Anna called to her twin. “Ah, ah, ah.” Why isn’t she answering? She always answers. I feel kind of empty. “AH, AH, AH!” Anna screamed, then started crying. My (I think the big people call her) “sister” is gone! She cried and yelled to her sister until she was horse and exhausted. Finally, she fell asleep. When she woke up, she called her sister again, “Ah, ah, ah,” but again there was no response. Something smelled different. Something wasn’t right. Everything was all wrong. Anna could hear voices, somewhat hushed voices. She pushed hard with her arms and got her head up (more wobbly than usual), but she couldn’t see her sister. The sounds weren’t familiar. The room wasn’t right. The smells were all wrong. “Ah, ah, ah.” Another desperate attempt to have her sister answer back to her. There was nothing, nothing but things she didn’t know. Anna started to cry again. Someone came, picked her up and tried to soothe her, but the lady didn’t feel right, didn’t smell right, didn’t sound right. She yelled out for her sister again, “AH, AH, AH!” This is our language. Why isn’t she answering me? Ever since they were born, they had spoken to each other with a soft “ah, ah, ah”. They seemed to continually check for the presence of the other, even when they were sleeping. I’m alone. I’ve never been alone. I don’t know how to BE ALONE. WHERE IS SHE? WHERE IS MY SISTER? WHERE IS MY MOMMY? The lady tried as hard as she could to calm the baby, but all Anna could do was cry. She cried so hard that she threw up. She cried; she didn’t sleep. She kept hearing things, things that sounded bad, really bad. The other thing she heard was silence – no one answered back to her calls. She tried more times to call her sister, but there was never an answer. No matter how much it hurt her already raw throat, she called out to her sister. She kept looking around for her mommy. She saw the boy they called “brother”. So where did they go? Wait, someone else is talking – I wonder what “dead” means. Although within 48 hours the Coroner’s Office had determined that there was no sign of neglect, abuse or foul play, the children were kept from their mother for a week. I guess it wasn’t enough that the mother had lost a baby. The county officials found it necessary to rip her other two children from her AND keep them away. We have not as yet reached the moral of this story. It continues: On the day that the children were returned to their mother, she had to rush the living twin to the emergency room. She was hospitalized and diagnosed with RSV (Respiratory Syncytial Viral Infection) – possibly what caused her twin’s demise. (As of this writing, April 7, 2007, there is still no formal Coroner’s Report – 24 days after her last breath.) Within a couple of days, she was moved to a Pediatric ICU at another hospital. Three days later, she was basically dying before her mother’s eyes. Preparations were being made to transfer the infant to a specialized children’s hospital in a larger city nearby. That evening, a large group of people from all over the world were praying, lighting candles, sending healing energy, using whatever modality they practiced. By the next morning, the doctor pronounced this a “miraculous recovery” and moved the child to a regular hospital room. She was released a couple of days later. Here’s the moral, folks: Considering what this three month old child had just been through over the course of just two short weeks, she managed to fight for her life. She is on her way back to full health, has gained weight, and is acting like a baby – laughing, cooing, playing. Anna did not suffer defeat! Anna overcame! When you start to feel sorry for yourself, think about the strength and determination of a three month old. I will be. She does stare at the picture of her sister every time she gets near it. I wonder if, in her head, she’s still saying, “Ah, ah, ah.” Live in the Light!
|
|
by Bobbi Bartsch Curtis
As the news becomes more and more horrendous in reference to how our government has failed our troops and the rest of our country, I am reminded that crimes that go unpunished allow the perpetrator to continue to build upon the base they’ve built. If a person is not required to own up to things they’ve done wrong, then the wrong-doing will spiral out of control. If a child continually receives no negative reinforcement when they misbehave, then they will not only continue the poor conduct which has gone unpunished, but they will have to assume that there are more behaviors, worse behaviors, they can commit that will also just be ignored. We must remember that we have allowed our government to reach a point where they assume that “we, the people” will not confront them, will not speak out against injustices, will not get up off our butts and respond in any way. WE ARE THE REASON THAT OUR TROOPS ARE NOT RECEIVING QUALITY MEDICAL CARE AT WALTER REED ARMY MEDICAL CENTER. WE ARE THE REASON THAT LIES ARE THROWN AROUND IN OUR FEDERAL BUILDINGS AS THOUGH THEY WERE TRUTHS. WE ARE THE REASON WHY GREEDY, PETTY, SELF-ABSORBED LIARS ARE RUNNING THINGS. Why would I say this? Because when the writing was on the wall, years ago, we did not stand up and, in one loud voice, say, “NO!” Instead, because we were too lazy, too tired, too wrapped up in our own little lives, we gave it all away to human beings with, apparently, no souls, no consciences, no morals, no ethics, no hearts, no, no, no . . . Many of us were alive when John Kennedy was murdered – under very questionable circumstances. Many of us were alive through the Watergate scandal. Many of us were alive during the Viet Nam fiasco. We are the famous Baby Boomers. We were born during the post World War II era of parents who were born or were young during the Great Depression and its aftermath. We should know better . . . or did we forget the history that has been shaped itself during ours and our parents’ lifetimes. Now we must seek within. We must take a stand. We must do something outrageous, something outside the character we’ve built that this government has grown to expect. The men who created this country put their lives on the line in order to create something better, a place where people had some freedoms. A place where the local government and the king that backed it would not have supreme power. A place where the people had a voice. A place where it was not considered acceptable to burn down your neighbors house because his beliefs were different from yours. A place of reasonable laws, written to protect the innocent, where Right would prevail. Folks, wake up. That place is gone. If we want it back, we have to do something. We have to take back some control. We may not need to put our lives on the line as our forefathers had to do, but we need to look at reality, determine what we can do and take action. I really hate to harp on this (read last month’s article), but nothing is getting better as we sit back and allow others to make decisions for us. Seek within and speak up. SCPE Resource Page, click Make a Difference/Special Interest for links to some suggested sites Sign on as a citizen co-sponsor of the Sanders/Boxer global warming bill now! There are so many sites online that address issues and allow action. Use your search engine of choice, choose your area of special interest and go for it. Seek within for the answer lies there, but action is necessary afterward. Search your heart, your Juno, your higher self, your conscience, your head. It’s past time. We have a lot of work to do! If you have sites that you currently go to to take action, please submit them to bobbi@scpeinc.org so that we can include them on our Choices and Resources page.
Many blessings to you all! May we be a road to progress together. Make yourself heard – speak out!
|
|
Where Have All the Hippies Gone? by Bobbi Bartsch Curtis I was born in the mid 1950’s and was in high school during the some of the most radical parts of the 60’s revolution. There were peace rallies, freedom marches, sit-ins for equal rights, bra burnings, organized protests for ecology . . . the young people of our country stood for some high ideals and were loud about it. The music on the radio was filled with promising messages about peace and pleas to love one another. Other top hits protested war and violence. The nightly news showed us daily figures on the loss of young, American lives and the progress of a war on foreign land . . . and those figures were fairly close to the truth. The young didn’t trust anyone over 30 and shouted, “Down with the establishment!” There were dreams of a new world order shaped with love and fairness, peace and stability, green trees and blue skies, clean water and fresh air. Well, folks, all those passionate fighters are now well over 30 and are the fat, self-righteous, self-absorbed establishment they used to hate. What happened to caring about one another? What happened to fighting against pollution and doing the right things for our planet? WHERE HAVE ALL THE HIPPIES GONE? 40 years ago we started a fight. 40 years ago we stood for something. 40 years ago we cared. In 40 years, we lost all the battles and the soldiers have joined the opposition. Mother Earth is a MESS. Our country is in big trouble. Our children are no longer educated. I can’t even begin to talk about the crap people watch on TV. We are back to driving around in huge vehicles for absolutely no reason other than the status symbols they’ve again become. I can stand at a busy intersection on any given day and in less than 15 minutes see well over 95 enormous vehicles that guzzle gas to the tune of 8 miles per gallon and THE DRIVER IS ALONE IN THE HULKING BEAST – babbling away on a cell phone, of course. These things don’t even have the class and style of the old luxury cars. They are enormous, rectangular, boxy hunks of sort-of-metal and plastic with TV’s, DVD players and GPS equipment that most of the drivers aren’t smart enough to figure out how to use. Some of them look more like tanks than passenger vehicles. At least the old luxury cars had some aero-dynamic qualities. These big wind blockades cost as much as half a house. By the way, many of these vehicles go home at night to apartments with less than 1100 square feet of interior space – I really don’t get this part – and the owners “can’t afford to buy a house.” SURPRISE. You spent most of the housing budget on the rolling POS and gas to make it go Speaking of gas, did we forget that oil is a diminishing commodity? I believe that the first time I heard that was 40 years ago, but we’ve allowed the auto industry to rule our lives. Back in the 80’s cars that got 20 plus miles to the gallon were marketed heavily. We were in the midst of an oil shortage “scare”. There has been no appreciable improvement on a major level since. We do now have hybrid vehicles available – those that require being plugged in at night and those that can use corn ethanol. Problem – the auto and oil industries have made sure that their prices are generally out of range for the vast majority of people. I have not yet found much in the way of a good reason for this. There are many areas of our country that can’t keep up with the current power usage. If a large number of households could and did buy electric cars, how would they charge them? Also, has anyone else noticed that most gas stations still do not have ethanol, and those that do, the price of the ethanol stays the same relative distance just below gas prices no matter how much the gasoline goes up or down. When did corn and gas prices become directly proportionate to each other? Global warming is becoming more and more noticeable. Have you seen pictures of Glacier National Monument lately? There’s just about no glacier. The name will soon have to be changed to Dirt National Monument. Areas of Europe and the US that used to experience low snowfalls due to temperatures too low for snow (yes, it gets too cold to snow) have had record snowfalls this year and winter is not yet over. There is extensive other evidence, but the point here is that 40 years ago we made a lot of noise about these issues before they became so blatant and then did nothing. Did we forget? [Visit www.theclimateproject.org for more information. Women’s rights have taken huge steps backwards. We’re still wasting valuable time in Congress and the courts fighting about abortion. Rapists still get off on ridiculous technicalities. In several states (Nevada and Colorado to name two) laws have been enacted that state that upon reported incidence of domestic violence, both parties go to jail. COOL – now women who might have defended themselves when their husbands or boyfriends were beating them up are even more afraid to do so because they stand the chance of ending up with a criminal record. If there are any children involved it becomes even more complex, and the children could end up in foster care or, worse, in state-run facilities. The implications are horrendous Blacks are still battling over their rights. One evening I watched a recently-become-popular black comedian’s televised stand-up show. A couple of nights later, an airing of another black comedian’s televised stand-up came on while I was busy working on a project. I stopped to watch since he’d been one of my favorite comedians for many years, and he had passed away in December of 2005. I wanted to remember him doing stand-up, not sitting in a wheelchair. I began to realize that I was hearing the same subject matter as the former show. One of these broadcasts was filmed two years ago. The second one was filmed in 1979. 25 years had gone by, but it seems nothing has changed much. [A moment of silence for Richard Pryor. Please visit him at www.richardpryor.com.] A couple in Colorado put up a wreath in the shape of a peace sign this past holiday season. I heard about it, started shouting hooray, and then read an article about it. The HOA where she lived was demanding that she take it down. For me, the outcome was not as important as the fact that someone was so ignorant that they called it a “symbol of Satan” and that it was “anti-Iraq war”. We are hearing the same arguments concerning our soldiers in Iraq as we heard 30’ish years ago about our soldiers in Viet Nam. Doesn’t anybody ever learn anything or develop the ability for rational thought? Being against a war is not being against the soldiers in the war. For those who think so, stop being stupid! When was it that soldiers made their own decisions? If you think they do, then you have no understanding of the military and, apparently, no brain function. [For additional information on the peace wreath, click here.] Prices are up, apathy and self-centeredness are in. We were the caring generation and we let each other down. We used to holler about the silent majority and beg that the apathetic would get up off their duffs and do something. Now, we are they. It would require a lengthy book to cover all the issues that have rolled around in my head in relation to this topic. To tie it up: WHERE HAVE ALL THE HIPPIES GONE? Are you hiding? Make some noise. Speak up. I’m not deaf yet, but I can’t hear you! When was the last time you signed a petition to clean up the air? When was the last time you contributed some money to a worthy cause? When was the last time you wrote a letter to a Congressman? When was the last time you gave a shit about anything other than how much faster, taller, wider and longer your vehicle was than the one next to you on the highway, and whether or not yours had more technological garbage in it? [Please notice that none of these suggestions require that you leave your favorite chair. They can all be accomplished online except, of course, for the last one. That requires developing a conscience.] WHERE HAVE ALL THE HIPPIES GONE? I miss you. We need you. Where are you? Please visit www.thepetitionsite.com and/or join www.care2.com or search the internet for specific sites that take action for or against whatever it you might still believe in.
Peace, Love and Flower Power
|
|
The Lessons We Refuse to Learn by Sedona
We’ve heard the cliché that we must play with the hand life deals to us. This is true in some regards. Most women who are 5’3” don’t have much chance to play pro basketball. Those with an average IQ are not often asked to join a think tank and work on world problems. Many other examples come to mind, but the point is that we do each have certain limitations by which our lives are governed to some degree. However, if you find yourself continually being stopped, hampered or made miserable by a specific, recurring dilemma, especially if you find yourself saying, “Oh, for God’s sake, not this same garbage again!” then it’s probably time to look more deeply within. There are two laws of physics that apply here: the law of cause and effect and a very important law that says, “For ever action, there is an equal and opposite reaction” (Newton’s Third Law). Several Eastern religions call these basic scientific principles “karma”. One of the reasons that I submit articles to SCPE is because of their belief that we all need to be in a continuous state of evolution – learning, growing, changing, becoming better beings, in short, evolving. Part of the evolutionary process includes learning from our own mistakes. This requires the ability to be honest with ourselves and to see and to begin to understand ourselves better. “Soul-searching” is one of the older catch phrases, and the word “karma” has become better understood and much used in Western culture in the last several years. The act of being responsible for one’s own actions fits here as well Karma is, at its very base, the law of cause and effect. If Mary puts her hand in a flame, she will get burned. If George writes checks for more money than he has in his bank account, checks will bounce. We must suffer the consequences of your actions – simple, right? Actually, yes, it’s that simple. I think that one of the most interesting interpretations of this is The Definition of Insanity – doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results. Unfortunately, we humans tend to suffer from this form of insanity for most of our natural lives. We tend to wander through, doing what we do, and learning little about ourselves. It’s high time we put some effort into our evolutionary development. I don’t know how much the rest of you have noticed, but there may not be much time left . . . but that is material for a future article. I implore you each to begin to take responsibility for your own actions. If you are having difficulties that happen to you repeatedly, then you must look to yourself to see what it is that you keep doing that is making it necessary for the lessons to repeat themselves – they will repeat until you learn the desired lesson. If we each are to grow and learn as we age, then this is an absolutely crucial step. Something else before closing – love each other, respect the earth and her beings, do what you know in your heart to be right, be the best you can be, and . . . Live well my sisters.
|
|
The
Strangest Thing... by I don’t know if the
rest of you have noticed, but I and many of my friends and associates can
certainly testify to some very strange energy running around. The least likely
seems to have become normal. What we have thought to be the most obvious appears
now to be the obscure. Any truths are now falsehoods. Laws of physics and logic
no longer apply. A 2006 car purchased new in November 2005 had a minor problem about six months later – a defective CD changer that locked up with five CD’s in it. The dealership replaced the unit that included all the musical parts along with the AC and heater. When the driver attempted to use the cruise control, it wouldn’t engage; however, it did handily change the stations on the radio. The owner went to a different dealership, and they fixed the cruise control. They also must have found more than one problem with the wiring – the sound coming from the radio/CD player/cassette player has improved immensely. It appears that the original wiring was not correct – now all the speakers work, for the FIRST time. A woman with heart problems was in the hospital last week for an operation. She was released. She was called back to the hospital and has another surgery scheduled for a few days from now. Does anyone else think that the original surgery was botched? A woman found out that she was pregnant. She was not in a situation to have more children, so she got an abortion. Two months later she found out that she was pregnant, but she hadn’t been sexually active since before the abortion. Turns out that she was pregnant with triplets and the doctor aborted only one fetus. She’ll be having twins in a few months. These are stories from people I know – the car’s mine. I didn’t go around searching for them. I didn’t request any stories of the weird and the stupid. These have been collected in the last couple of weeks during casual conversation. They are not fish stories. The information is verifiable, but my sources prefer to remain nameless. If anyone has stories of inequities or oddities that they would like to share, please contact me at bobbi@scpeinc.org (check out our disclosure page) so they can be included in next month’s issue.
Be well!
|
|
Disregard for Humanity...and Common Sense or What the Hell is Going on in Colorado? 8/2006 by Bobbi Bartsch Curis I must begin this story with a few facts. Most importantly, this is a true account. Nothing has been made up or embellished in an attempt to get your attention or to make a point clear. The outcome of this story is not yet known. Names have been changed to protect the innocent; in particular, the child who is not quite two years old at the time of this writing (August 13, 2006). However, the location is factual – I would not want someone to mistake the real locale for another. Some assumptions have been made, but they are duly noted. A few years ago, a young man and a young woman fell in love. They set up housekeeping together and began to plan their future. The young woman, we’ll call her Laura, became pregnant. That was when the beatings became serious, probably causing the miscarriage. We might assume that the young man, we’ll call him Richard, had become comfortable beating on his wife, and the beatings continued. On different occasions he broke her thumb, broke one of her ribs, chased her down the street in the snow to beat her while she was wearing nothing but a shirt, and threw her in a bathtub and choked her until she quit breathing. Apparently, when he realized that she was not breathing, it scared him; and he let go of her throat. Air was then able to reenter her lungs. She survived. Over the first couple of years of their relationship, Richard told Laura much about his family’s history. He would reminisce about the times that he was walking home from school and found his mother trading sex for drugs in the ditch by the side of their house . . . with one of his friends or older siblings of his school buddies. He told her that, since he was the oldest, he was left to raise his younger siblings since his mother was, in all senses of the phrase, a crack whore. This started when he was five years old. He and his siblings had been removed from his mother’s care by the Department of Human Services, beginning when he was 12 years old. The charges against his mother, we’ll call her Janice, included abuse and neglect. He had several domestic violence charges against him, some filed by members of his own family including his mother, sister and others. Laura felt that he had been driven beyond human tolerance by his mother and that Janice had been getting what she deserved. Laura felt sorry for him and hoped that their relationship would be strong and loving enough to help him restore himself. Not so. Richard’s brother, Joseph, moved in with Laura and Richard when his mother threw him out of the house (again) for whatever reason. Since having a job was not one of Richard’s strong points, Laura supported the three of them. Again, she heard more of the horror stories of living with Janice. Laura became close with one of Richard’s cousins, Theresa, who was also vocal about Janice’s unreasonable behavior, including the time Janice had called the Department of Human Services on Theresa for feeding her children a popular variety of frozen dinners designed for children. During a visit to Janice’s house, Laura was stunned to find out that the local police of Fountain, Colorado, were on a first name basis with all members of the household, and they were curious about whether or not her husband had ever decided to finish high school. Richard spent some time in jail for DUI’s, domestic violence and other charges. Laura worked, paid his bail and kept the household “together”. She became pregnant again. The beatings continued, and Laura continued to hope that her love would save him. She’d somehow forgotten about herself. As was usual, Richard had lost another job by the time the baby was born. Laura went back to work a week after the birth. She was working two jobs to make ends meet, and Richard stayed home with their son, Ramon. When the baby was two and a half months old, Richard went on one of his regular benders, came home in the middle of the night and began beating Laura, as was his habit. Ramon had been wakened at about 2 AM on several occasions to listen to his mother’s screams as his father took out his pent up aggressions. However, on this one evening in particular, Ramon had not been asleep when his father came home, and Richard wailed on Laura as she was holding Ramon. She implored Richard to let her at least put the baby down before he continued. This was met with more abuse. When he beat her to the point that she lost consciousness and woke up in the hospital Laura realized that her son was also in danger. She pressed charges and got a restraining order. When Ramon was four months old, they moved and hid from Richard. So that we all understand, Laura did not have a pristine past. She was on probation for check fraud and was doing her best to meet all the requirements of her probation, which was shortly coming to an end, having realized, especially after the birth of her son, that she needed to be the provider of all her child’s needs. She had been making every effort to turn her life around, mostly for her son. Seven months later, she was picked up on another check fraud charge – not one that she committed. It seems that a year ago (when she was about seven months pregnant) a girl not matching her description had attempted to pass a stolen check at a retail store. The clerk had photocopied the woman’s ID and had quite a bit of information concerning the woman, including her foot size since she’d been attempting to purchase shoes. Laura spent a month and a half in jail while her cousin watched her son. Due to lack of funds, she was not able to make bail. She was in jail for her son’s first birthday. Being away from her son was breaking her heart, so she plea-bargained to a lesser charge and took a new, extended probation in order to go home. When she was going through the release procedure, the officer handling the paperwork asked her about her alias. She told him that she didn’t have one, that she’d never gone by the name Tracy and got out of there as quickly as they’d let her. She started looking for a new job since she’d lost the one she’d had while sitting in jail and again attempted to put her life back together. In the meantime, her divorce proceedings were moving along and the court had ordered visitation for her almost ex-husband. Against her better judgment, she took her son to his apartment for his three-day visitation. Richard called Laura on the second day of his visitation and asked if he could keep his son until Christmas since she had had the boy on Thanksgiving. He wanted to spend holiday time with his son and his family. This would turn the three days into just short of two weeks, but Laura didn’t want to be one of those mothers who refuses to allow her child to know his other parent. She agreed, hesitantly. On December 17th, around midnight, Richard decided to go out drinking with his girlfriend and left the 14-month-old Ramon home with a sleeping roommate who had no idea that he was in charge of the child. The Colorado Springs Police picked up Richard at 5 AM on a DUI charge and put him in jail. He told the police that he needed to call his mother to go pick up his son. At some point (while he was still drunk, mind you) he told the police that he had no idea where his son’s mother was and hadn’t seen her in months. It does not appear that anyone was particularly concerned that no one was taking care of the infant while his father was out drinking and joy riding. Janice was notified and picked up the child from the roommate who, now that he was awake, found that the baby had been roaming the house for quite some time, pulling things down and making a general mess. A few days later, Laura attempted to call Richard’s house and left a message. After leaving a few more messages, she began to worry. She finally got Richard’s roommate on the phone and found out that Richard was in jail and that Janice had picked up Ramon. She went to Janice’s house and found that she’d moved. No one around there knew where she’d gone. Laura spent several evenings driving around and calling relatives looking for some clue as to Janice’s – and her son’s – whereabouts. She filed a missing persons report with the police and continued to try to find her son. A few weeks later, Laura was contacted by DHS (Department of Human Services). She had been reported as an absent parent and custody of the child had been turned over to his paternal grandmother – the woman whose children had been removed from her home ten years before. Laura was told that she needed to meet certain conditions, and her son would be returned to her. A caseworker came to her home, conditions were met but nothing happened. Laura began calling DHS to get in touch with the caseworker. She left messages, but no one returned her calls. Soon, she found that the caseworker who had contacted and visited her had left DHS. She started to leave messages with the former caseworker’s supervisor. Again her calls were not returned. Remember that Laura was on probation. The database for DHS and the Probation Department are shared. There should have been little reason for DHS NOT to be able to locate Laura immediately. As a further note, Laura’s real name is a little unusual. If it is typed into PeopleFinder.com one could have acquired her exact address and phone number for the cost of $9.95 even without the help of the El Paso County database. Laura went to her Probation Officer, who had been made aware by Laura of the situation from the outset and had records of speaking with both the former caseworker and with the DHS Investigator, and asked for help locating her son’s case in order to allow her to contact the current caseworker and find out why her son had not yet been returned to her. Although one would think that this would be a simple procedure based on the shared database, difficulties arose since Grandma didn’t seem to know the boy’s real name. In the DHS case files Ramon’s name shows as Raymond. Laura was lucky to have a probation officer who didn’t give up until she found the case in the computer system. Laura contacted the new caseworker and found that she was required to take random drug tests twice a week, be tested for alcohol consumption, take drug and alcohol classes, attend several therapies and various classes for numerous mental conditions and must have a battery of psychological exams before she would be allowed to see her son. Her son was taken by his paternal grandmother in mid-December, and Laura would not be allowed to see him again until June; and, then, only under the supervision of DHS staff at a visitation center. It came to light by about this time that the file of the actual perpetrator of the check theft had become mixed with Laura’s file. She got a copy of the mixed file and requested that the incorrect information be removed. She was told that since Tracy was in jail at the time, there was nothing she could do and nothing that the police would do. It was this mixed file that had caused all the additional drug and alcohol classes and additional therapies that were being required of her. Laura acquired a copy of the discovery on the case. It shows that Laura’s picture had been shown to the clerk in the store and was not identified as the perpetrator, Tracy. Her picture was also shown to the manager of the apartment where Tracy lived. The manager stated that she looked something like Tracy’s sister but that she wasn’t Tracy. Keep in mind that there was a copy of Tracy’s driver’s license on file. They look nothing alike. Their ages are different. There heights and weights are different (and Laura was very pregnant when the crime was committed) and their shoe sizes are different. However, since these two women had the same last name and Laura sort of looked like the SISTER of the perpetrator, Laura was arrested, jailed and tried for a crime she didn’t commit and now owes $5000 in restitution and her probation was extended three years – AND she has someone else’s long list of arrests and convictions on her record. What is going on in the state of Colorado? The reality of this scenario is that it doesn’t get any better. The attorney assigned to Laura by the court in the DHS case is not a member of the Bar, and his specialty according to his phone listing is traffic violations. He doesn’t show up to scheduled meetings with DHS nor does he show up at court. When Laura asked him to subpoena the records that her Probation Officer had concerning the contact she’d had with the first caseworker, he refused. Records show only the lies that were told by Richard and his mother, none of which were ever substantiated. Records also show that the first caseworker was not able to contact Laura, although the investigator’s report is clearly in the file as well and shows that Laura had been located, and the Probation Officer’s records corroborate the contacts that the first caseworker and investigator had with Laura and her Probation Officer. DHS’s own file contradicts itself. An example of one of the allegations made against the mother was that the child had scoliosis and that early neglect caused it. Scoliosis is genetic (the child’s maternal great-grandmother has scoliosis), the cause is unknown and there is no form of prevention. It would appear that Janice was not aware of these facts when she lied about the condition. She did take Ramon to a doctor who verified that he did not have scoliosis. Either way, there has been no evidence that suggests any form of neglect, except during the child’s stay with Janice . . . and remember what happened to her children. By the way, the child has acute asthma and Janice and her friends and other relatives sit in the same room with the child and smoke. In order to be a foster parent, one must pass a background check. DHS has not to anyone’s knowledge performed a background check on Janice, although DHS’s own records show a case in connection with Richard’s name from 1996 – ten years ago when he was 12. It shows that he was a child in the case and that the case involved both neglect and abuse. Exactly who did DHS think the parents were in that case? Ramon was forced to live with this woman for seven months, from the time he was 14 months old until he was 21 months old, and Janice has been paid as a foster parent by the state of Colorado. During a meeting among DHS workers, the Guardian ad Litem, the father, the mother, the paternal grandmother, the maternal grandmother (by phone) and the child’s uncle (the same man that lived with Richard and Laura and whom she supported for a time because his mother kicked him out), among others, Janice and Richard cooked their own geese by allowing some truths to slip out. At that time, the child was placed with the sister of Janice’s new husband. Does anyone else see the inequity here? When the maternal grandmother (Barbara), who lives out of state, requested phone contact with her grandson, the request was denied until she passed a background check. She agreed, in writing, to the background check. That check has never been run, but the question must arise as to why a check is necessary for her to be able to talk to the boy on the phone. However, DHS has still not run a background check on the woman with whom they allowed the boy to stay for seven months. Barbara’s background is clean. This is just the tip of this iceberg. Laura would appreciate your comments, thoughts or suggestions. Please email them to bobbi@scpeinc.org for forwarding.
Be well and question everything. |
|
Maybe That's The Best They Can Do by Bobbi Bartsch Curis
It is said that we should be careful for what we ask that we might just get it. Here is another that bears watching. Be careful of negative feelings toward people we dislike, for we or someone we love might just turn into that person. It has happened many times in my life and has been mentioned to me by friends and acquaintances on far too many occasions to be ignored. We live a world full of all kinds of people. We make the excuse that, “It takes all kinds,” when we attempt to slough off the bad feelings that are welling up when a person says or does something evil either to us or to someone we like or love. This is especially true when we are trying to console or calm our friend or loved one when they’ve been hurt or infuriated by one of the Neanderthals with whom we must interact. However, care should be taken if/when we begin to obsess or complain too much about those who are highly rude, unusually inconsiderate or downright nasty. Here are a few examples of what of what I mean. The first comes from my own repertoire. I’ve been married a few times (unsuccessfully) and have had a couple of sort of long term, serious relationships. As these relationships were playing themselves out, I found that there existed some role reversals. If husband number two had driven me crazy by procrastinating, then I would make husband number three suffer over my procrastination. If husband number three was ultra-critical, then husband number four had better look out. The scathing remarks were going to be fired off without warning. This did not occur on purpose, but I certainly began to see trends. I don’t now think that it was a subconscious attempt on my part to pay someone back through another. Occasionally I would be right in the middle of the mess I’d helped create and say to myself, “I’ve turned into my ex-husband!” The dismay was overwhelming at times. As these instances repeated themselves, I began to learn a little more understanding for others. It helps to see things from many angles – especially when one has the opportunity to be both a receiver and a sender. I think this is the most pointed example I’ve heard. While she was growing up, a friend’s mother had often told her, “If I every start to act like your grandmother [the mother-in-law – shudder and shake], shoot me dead!” Grandma was a miserable person. Since she didn’t like peaches, her granddaughter should not like peaches. She’d turn her nose up in disgust and make an ugly face if Shelley ate a peach in front of her and then stalk off to another room. Shelley, undaunted, would follow her into the other room and make a big deal out of enjoying the peach. She pronounced words wrong. For instance, one of her favorite TV shows was Gunsmoke. Even though she never missed an episode and heard the name at the start of every single show, she insisted that the male lead character’s name was Matt Dilling – correct name, Matt Dillon. Oregano was oregana. The list is relatively endless. Since Shelley had been taught the importance of correct grammar and rules of speech and pronunciation, this drove her well over the edge. Her grandmother had lots of friends. Many of her friends knew each other. She’d tell each friend that the other one had said something horrible about the other woman. These people became mortal enemies, never to speak to each other again. The old bat remained friends with both women and commiserated with them about how horribly their other once-mutual friend had treated them, fueling the fire if it looked like they might make up. Grandma had an attic full of old crap that she thought was made of 24-karate gold. In an attempt to start an argument between mother and daughter, she would promise the stuff to the mother and the same stuff to Shelley. Little did she know that neither one of them was interested in her junk. When she watched something educational on television, she’d immediately begin to explain it to everyone in the room backwards and inside out. One thing that particularly drove Shelley nuts was the way she read all the signs along the highway when they were driving along. They had all moved to Salt Lake City from the east coast. There are signs along the interstate telling where the exits are to get to the lake. The signs say, “The Great Salt Lake Next Exit.” This would bring on a lecture from Grandma about “these people who think this place is so great, and it’s just big, dirty and disgusting.” Every time this occurred, Shelley would explain that the signs were not referring to the city but to the lake, and it’s proper name is The Great Salt Lake. However, that never stopped the tirade every time they passed those signs. Grandma would sit in Shelley’s mom’s kitchen, after having moved in with her son and daughter-in-law, spouting recipes although she never picked up a pot or pan to cook anything; and everything that the mother cooked was criticized throughout every meal. I met the woman and experienced this first-hand on more than one occasion. She would screw up her face as though she’d just ingested something out of a cat’s litter box and loudly pronounce that, “This is the worst meal I’ve ever had.” By the way, Mom’s cooking was great. As is typical in most sit-coms, her daughter-in-law could do absolutely nothing right (think Everyone Loves Raymond); but, in her own mind, she was kind and considerate of others’ feelings. My, she would never think of being rude or critical! She would never say anything that might hurt someone’s feelings. Fact: She was rude, critical, and stupid. Fact: Her granddaughter couldn’t stand to be around her from an early age. The older Shelley got the more she detested her grandmother. Another fact: As the mother in this scenario grew older, she turned into her mother-in-law – right down to facial expressions, the set and stoney jaw and the crossed legs and folded arms that marked the ends of opinionated conversations. Discussion over! The only person in the room who knew anything about what was being discussed was Mom, now turned Grandma; and no one had better open a mouth to dispute her final word. You see, she knew it all and no one else knew anything. This was NOT the woman who’d reared Shelley. Several years after her mother passed on, it occurred to Shelley that this might have been meant as a learning experience for her. She loathed her grandmother long after her death. Dealing with her mother after the transformation was difficult at best. She had done her best to stay out of arguments with her mom and just ignore most of the annoying mannerisms. She decided that she needed to forgive her grandmother’s poor behavior and remember her mother as the kind and loving person she’d been, instead of the pain she’d become. Carrying around hateful thoughts and mean emotional baggage just might heap some coals of fire upon us. Condemning someone who doesn’t know any better doesn’t do us any good. My mother’s closest friend was probably one of the kindest people I’ve ever known. Mom tells a story of them driving along when a poorly maintained car pulled up beside them. My mother, without really thinking, commented about the shabby shape the car was in and questioned what kind of person would have the nerve to drive around in something like that. Her sweet friend’s soft-spoken response was, “Maybe that’s the best they can do.” Be well.
|
|
by
|
