There is a problem.

There is a problem with the rich people.

pcwallart.com

My son popped in to visit.
Seeing my unsmiling face, he said with love and concern, "What's wrong, Mom?  You look so down."

"It's the rich people", I said.  "I am so sick and tired of them."

His concern deepened.
"Did some of the rich people be mean to you?"  he asked protectively.

"No!",  I cried out.  "That is just the problem.  They are so danged nice!  And they are so nice to me."

My son started to laugh. 
 "What's wrong, Mom?  Did the rich people not even leave you the moral high ground?"

Seeing the look on my face, he laughed some more as he put his arm around me.
"Damn them for feeding the orphans!", he said.  "How dare they!"





Struggling,                                                                 
but aware you visited.                                                
Thanks,
Riverwatch





feedmypeople.org.uk





   pinterest
                                                                       

indiatoday.intotoday.in






mashable

Understanding Dr. Strange (or not) is not a test for dementia.

So, I let the younger (but aging) generation talk me into going to see "Dr. Strange".
I did that because my 49 yr old daughter said she is a Cumberbitch
                    and all her brothers (aging) laughed!
                                       Of course I didn't get it.

I was shocked.
I just didn't get it.

My grown and aging children looked at me as though I just came out of a time travel tube.

" Dr. Strange is Sherlock!!  Surely you watch Sherlock!  His last name is Cumberbatch, Benedict Cumberbatch, and all the droves of his adoring female fans call themselves Cumberbitches."

So there!  Consider yourself educated.

I sat through a loud showing of Dr. Strange.
I shut my eyes through some of the highly overrated visuals, because they definately resembled some scotoma brain displays I have had with  my migraines.  No thanks.  I've seen this kaleidoscope before without leaving my home or buying a ticket.

"So far so awful", I whispered to my aging daughter.

Leaving the theater later, I felt so defeated.  What to heck was that show about?
I couldn't figure out the plot, the purpose, what happened.
I , being hyper vigilant to any sign of cognitive dysfunction (where 2+2 does not add up to 4), was devastated.
I am obviously "round the bend".  Surely this failure to grasp the movie is a sign of dementia.


cheatsheet.com

"What was the plot?" I timidly asked my 49 yr old Cumberbitch.

She was breezy.   "Who knows?!  I don't.  You're supposed to go see it again and also go to the next Dr. Strange in the series."

"Well what happened?"

"The buildings folded in upon themselves."
.
"So?  What was the point?"

"Oh Mom, you are so old fashioned.  There wasn't a point.  Weren't those visuals awesome?"


Hoping you do not judge yourself by your ability to understand today's entertainment,
I remain happy you came to visit.
Riverwatch

Freedom to Pay the Price

The Freedom To Worship As I Please

I think the freedom to worship as we please also includes the freedom to not worship if we don’t please.

What it doesn't include is the freedom to force religion on somebody else through trickery,

fraud,

or even the sword.

Or shunning. Or economic sanctions. Whatever.

That is one of the many reasons I left Mormonism

for a life of better alignment with Christianity.

Worshiping as I please.

Allowing others the same privilege.

Leaving Mormonism was for me a time of being shunned. Still is. Not quite as bad as that first five years, but there is no middle ground for those who defend their faith with closed minds.  There just is no middle ground available when one of the parties KNOWS they have the right info and the rest of the world doesn't.

An open mind will for sure learn something.  Guard against that.

In the last world-wide conference Mormons were advised (according to someone who listened)  to remember feelings that guided them to the truth in the past or in the first place.  

Avoid those textbooks and research, ye who know the truth already.

A closed heart is even worse than a closed mind, but many with closed minds do not close their hearts and they pray and weep for those who do not believe as they do. Still and all, no middle ground.

My bias is that if feelings are where it is at for a testimony, then everybody else's feelings are valid also.  
Or as one of my sons said as a teenager after an outing with the brethren, "No two people on the earth have the same religion!"  My son was disgusted but I thought he was profound for so young a boy.

One of the red flags of mormonism is the shutting down of perspectives.

Wikemedia Commons

Now don't get miffed!

As Donald and Mitt might say to each other, if you agreed with me on everything and every issue, I would only hate you 10% less.

Riverwatch      (and now you know why I go by an alias)

OK.    I will go ahead and admit Mormons are not the only people who shun me. But Mormon's shunning is tangled with religious freedom.  Not cool.

Who is the beholder of your life?

aboutislam.net

"What is meant for us will come to us.

What is not meant for us will never come to us."

Or so they say.

Who is the beholder of your life?


I love it that science, which used to say that "thoughts have no power", has changed its ever changing mind!

Now science admits that the power of observation has the power to change whatever is being observed!
From the petri dish to the clinical arena,  RMIT Gallery

beholding, with its resulting thoughts, causes changes to occur.

As a nurse I always knew this fact in some small way, because
 when somebody cares enough to watch, something "magical" happens.

Behold.  And something changes.

Lo,
and behold.
Right before our very eyes, change appears.

Perhaps those ancient people who thought it was God who sent the earthquakes,

 and fires

                and floods 

were not as off-base as some like to believe!

We need to get a clue.
We are being watched.
Observation impacts us.

Out of the flood the fire and the earthquake come changes, of course, inside the people so visited.

All altered in ways that are real and measurable 

and permanent (until more change comes).

What is less well known, is that even those of us who just watch, observing  from afar, 

alter the stuff of life by our mental & feeling outreach across the miles.

We are being beheld.
We are that important!

And we behold those who are important to us.

Who in your present life is beholding you?
The Unbearable Lightness of Being


Who is watching you as a role model?  Maybe somebody you don't even know?

Who are you beholding?
Who are your unacknowledged role models?

Behold.




Of course we desire to be beheld.  It strengthens us, yes?
The sound of applause is powerful to create changes in us, too.


Plagierizing from the masters,
Riverwatch

Thank you for dropping by.

The Rope Around the Ankle

The Rope Around The Ankle

An educated  intelligent man said this to me recently, "I am not spiritual.  I am intellectual, religious."

I may be misquoting him a bit, (I am old!).  
His remark caused me to think.

I could have sworn he was spiritual.

Then I ran across this insight on a Catholic man's blog:

"I am religious, not spiritual, meaning that the red tape of this world feels a lot more real – and more interesting – than the golden parachute awaiting the top performers in the next. The same is true, I daresay, for many others. Much as evangelists love to prescribe encounters with Jesus and compare conversion to falling in love, the fact remains that if Jesus were so accessible or so easily lovable, they wouldn’t have a job.

The rope around my ankle has always been people – living people who were nice to me, and whom I could relate to. "              

 by Max Lindenman  January 24, 2015

****

Is Mr. Lindenman spiritual?

I don't know.  He says he is not.

I do know that when the rope around your ankle is people , living people who are nice to you, and whom you relate to, you seem spiritual.

***

Maybe his road has not been as rocky as mine.
The rockier the road, the more spiritual the effect?

The Zen trail, St. George, Utah
video  3mins and 43 seconds    So Worth Watching

http://vimeo.com/16664206

Cheerio,

Riverwatch 

May You Never Outlive Your Stories

I knew it was going to be a disappointing afternoon when I turned into the Exit lane in order to access the little shopping mall.
Dear God!
 How could I have done this?

Quickly I turned on my Hazard Lights to warn the bicyclist that he needed to get out of the way!  Also I wanted to reassure him I saw him and I was aware of my mistake.

The cyclist easily hopped the curb leaving me windshield to windshield with a cop car trying to exit.
Damn.
The cop backed up for me and then circled the lot, pulled to a worrisome stop, and watched me enter Charming Charlie's.
I was so happy I was wearing matching earrings and lipstick.  The best defense an old lady can have.
The somber cop just watched.  I didn't quite match his D & D criteria  (demented? drunk?)

Inside the store I was dazzled by the glittering chandliers and vast array of costume jewelry....reds....a section on yellow......blues up the kazoo.....greens......rose golds.... golds....silvers......
torocon.com

What a delight.

Born a bit color blind, I asked the youthful clerk with her long bouncy vibrant brown hair if she would help me match some colors for autumn.

Happy to assist, she mostly just encouraged me.

Then, watching me, she became intent in her gaze.  I felt like I had a Hazard Light on, or something.
"Will this yellow go with the rose gold?" I asked.

She stared at me.

quartsoft

Then she patted my hand.
 "It's ok, Honey.  You've lived your stories.  You can now wear anything you want."

If I were quick witted, which I am not anymore, I would have said, "Good grief, I just lived another little story, and Sweetie, you are the star in it."

I did buy what I wanted, since it doesn't matter anymore whether I'm put together right or not.
Unless I need to fool a cop.

Like I said, it wasn't my best afternoon.
Hoping yours is better,
Riverwatch

Youth speaks. The Bath.

THE BATH

by Jim Mowery

fr.fotolia.com

The swirling, bubbling water

   maddened in it's state of movement

      clung to the aged man.

I, a younger version, sat by him.

“A little warm today,” said he and I agreed.

     My face was red with the heat

        that encompassed us.

We sat together

   he and I

       and looked at the vaporous swirls

            of steam as they drifted skyward

                 only to be stopped by a mirrored ceiling

                     revealing us as children

                          in a frothy bath.

I looked at his wrinkled face

     and wondered

        was it worth it

to live all of those years

only to be rewarded with a body

         withered.
flickr.cm

And I asked

“Are you happy as an aged man?”

      His eyes played on me.

      “Yes....it is a little too warm,” he said.

            And I didn't pursue it.

Life Itself

Life itself is a death sentence.

In the meantime, it glows with possibilities.

I am so .....err....disappointed.  Here we are.  Talking about death again.

I'd rather talk about when we were kids, chasing each other through the cornfield.  visualphotos.com




Building little houses in the corn field, houses we shared with the little animals of the wild.

dreamtimes.com

I did think about death back then.  Never often, though, and always with real horror.
It was all about my body.

We are not very old when we figure out what's going to happen to the body when we die!
If we can't figure it out, some bright little mean friend will tell us.

Ghost stories.
We fed our minds on ghost tales.
buzzfeed.com

Didn't need digitals and "Walking Dead" and "Night of the Zombies" to get our minds stimulated.

We had real live ghost stories.

Yeh.
Dead.
It's a comin'.  

Joyce is now past 80.

"I'm not afraid to die," she tells me.

"Well.  Not anymore," I laugh.  "Remember when we were young and terrified of dying?  Did you read in the news where that old man 145 years old said his only wish is to die?"

"145??  Ahh, people can't live that long!?"

"Well, yes apparently we can.  Sidomejo is 145 and has outlived all his children and grandchildren."
Credit:  RTV
Born in Sragen, central Java province.

"Sidomejo has to be spoon fed and bathed.  He has had enough.  He just wants to die."

We are living to be old so young people can plainly see they don't want to never die!

We are not as afraid of losing our old body as we were of losing our young body.
I, a nurse, have seen the look on old old people.
"I don't CARE where I am going!  Just let me get to hell out of Dodge."

Death is part of it all.  But not today!
Dodge is a bit dodgie, and yet, what if Dodge is all we have?"
Don't want to die today!  But get me to hell out of Dodge.

Love is all that really matters.

Well, we matter.
We matter because we have the ability to love the rising generation.
Or scare them.


Glad to see your visit.
Thanks.
Riverwatch

Buffering

Buffering......not Buffeting

"My sister has died.  It is the first time I have faced life's challenges without her,"   Lucretia said as tears ran down her face.

Susan died!  Susan who understood everything.  Susan who "got it" everytime Lucretia spoke.  So close in age they were almost twins.  Almost.

Susan.  That was where Lucretia planned to go if she ever became homeless.

pinterest.com

Susan it was  who spear-headed the visits and vacations of three sisters.  Laughing at their younger tag-a-long sister Angie who "never got it".

"Oh, yes.  Angie and I  are close because of Susan's death.  We went through that together.  But she is not a buffer.  I need Susan.  I need that buffer against the world."

"I cannot even imagine a sister who gets it....who loves you.....  who cares,"  I say.

"I know your sister died about the same time as mine," Lucretia says, tears trickling from her eyes. "Don't you miss her?"

"No."

"You don't miss your sister?"

"No  and I avoid people who remind me of her.  She didn't buffer me.  She buffeted me.  Always. Well, not always.  Once she was there for me.  Well, twice.  But stack those two times up against all the times she kicked me and punched me and ratted on me and led me astray and she comes off in my mind as a buffeting sister I was close to, but do not miss.  I'm sorry.  Should I lie about this?"

"I just don't understand."

"Well, it was what it was.  Of course I stole her steady boyfriend as a joke just to prove I could, but heck, we were grown up by then.  I didn't want him.  I dropped him the moment I got him."

Lucretia just looks at me.  Uncomprehending, she stares at me.

"Yeh," I admit.  "I need mercy, too.  But I am glad, truly glad, your family were nice folks."



I really am grateful for Lucrecia's great blessings.  Gratitude is my gift.

Forgiving others is something I have to strive for.  It is not a  strong family trait.

pinterest.com

All my friends are forgiving people.  Go figure.


Thanks for dropping by,
I am grateful,
Riverwatch

No Generation Gap

                         

visionpsychology.com

Indi, my granddaughter, age 4

After multiple requests for screen time in a three minute period without pause Indi says "Do you known what would make me happy?" 

Exhausted and ready to explain yet again that she used up all her screen time for today, Indi's mom  let out a short irritated "What?!!"

 Indi replies, "To known what happens when I die." 



Quoted correctly.  

Known makes sense to me, does it to you?
I myself am a little jaded about past tense, present tense and future tense!
Does it really matter??

                               

                                                                             
                                                                                                                         pinterest.com



weeklygripes.co.uk
"Nope, the answer isn't in here.  
I looked it up on the internet, too.  Nope.  No answer there.
We get to guess what the answer is.  
What do you think is the answer?
What would you like the answer to be?"

I appreciate your visit.
AND your prayers!
Riverwatch

linkedin.com






from Into the Mud. The blog of Christine Jeske

When God says thank you

Normally when we think of thanksgiving and God, we think of these two things in the direction of us thanking God, right? 
I have recently been astounded by the concept that God could actually thank us.  That’s pretty boggling when you think in terms of how much and how frequently we mess up, at least as compared to how little God messes up.  In the game of Not Messing Up, it’s like God scores google-infinity and we score about five.

So why would God thank us?

I was recently touched to read through the book of Mark and stumble upon a story of a woman getting “rebuked harshly.”  It’s the story of a woman who pours out expensive oil on Jesus’ feet, and some disciples say she wasted her gift.

Then Jesus says, right in front of a bunch of men, in a setting where a woman like her should have been treated like trash, “Leave her alone. Why are you bothering her? She has done a beautiful thing to me… She did what she could.” (Mark 14:5-8)

This is not about my ego.  In fact I think accepting thanks from God if anything actually shrinks our egos.  The ironic thing is it does so in a way that actually reveals us to be even more valuable than we thought, not less.  No, this isn’t about me, it’s about the fact that I know some of you need to know that you have done beautiful things for Jesus.  You have done what you could.

Let that sink in for a minute.  Ok, I could be wrong, but if you sit in silence for a minute and give yourself permission, I bet there’s something Jesus would say you did well. In a parable of servants waiting for their master to come back, there really are ones who get to hear the master say, “Well done, good and faithful servant!”  (Mt. 25:21)

http://www.intothemud.com/2012/09/when-god-says-thank-you/

                                            I just wanted to include a blog post I found interesting.

**

Giving thanks
channel.nationalgeographic.com

Receiving thanks

jamesaltucher.com

Thanks for buzzing by,

Riverwatch

To Sing

time.com

                                                                        pinterest.com

It is right that we should always remember that there are other worlds to sing in.

pinterest.com

I appreciate your visit.

Riverwatch

If At First You Don't Succeed

Repost: just a reminder

chron.com

One of my sons came to visit, his smart phone in his hand.

"Here, Mom,  I have to show you something your one and only daughter posted on facebook."


pinterest.com

Oh, my gosh!  I am so pleased!

"Oh, my gosh", I blurt out.  "I am 71 and my daughter finally gets it!"

"Mom!" he replies in a shocked voice.  "This is not about you!  You are history!  This is about HER daughter who just quit college.  You are history."

O M G!!  He said that to me while I am still living!

I am 71 and I am history.

Living History.


Oh My Gosh,  I'm beginning to sound like Hillary.



Cheerio,
thanks for the wave,
Riverwatch

Hidden Wealth. Happy 4th of July!

Hidden Wealth

                                 thoughtyoumightask.com

The Hidden Wealth of Poverty:

a sense of humor

a clearly marked path to become a non-conformist

the freedom to become an eccentric if we chose
and the joy of understanding other eccentrics

sensual....sensual......sensuality

an ability to make do

**

Could the appearance of 

changes in our thinking in old age be in

any way linked to our new  poverty......

or for some of us, a continuance of our

poverty?

Just wondering, 

and so glad you came to visit,

Riverwatch

       

Jewel of Diversity Is Our World

The World, Jewel of Diversity

pinterest.com

Pope Francis: 'You cannot make fun of the faith of others'

"There are so many people who speak badly about religions or other religions, who make fun of them, who make a game out of the religions of others,” he said.  “They are provocateurs. And what happens to them is what would happen to Dr Gasparri if he says a curse word against my mother. There is a limit.”

I love this Pope.
I am not Catholic, but I love him.  I am emotionally strengthened by many of his actions and his words.
Of course I do not believe everything he says.  After all, I am a Protestant.  
Then again, I don't believe everything any human says, and I disbelieve myself from time to time!    

                                                                                                                                                           
But I do believe in free speech, I demand it!
Even for you.
And I believe sometimes it is so important to express your truth that paying the price, the fall-out, is just the cost of "free" speech.
I have paid the price sometimes!  Perchance you have also.

But in a world gone mad, is it not more important to be sane, than to be "funny", even if comedy is a way of expressing deep-seated hurt or fear?
Is it not more important to thoughtfully consider the cost, the fall-out to other people, not just one's self?

I, Riverwatch, needed to hear the Pope's words.

I myself need reminded that there are limits.

Yes, violence begets violence,
.........and reactions can become chain reactions,
............... and I am horrified at the escalations.
                                                                                                                                       
Still and all, there is a limit to free speech, free expression.

Speech itself is a priviledge.

Handle with care.

Or as my mom  said to me, "For god's sake, shut up!"

     

I'm still working on that, old age notwithstanding!

Thank you for your kind visit.

Riverwatch