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Who Am I To Judge?

Who am I to judge? ~Pope Francis

I can’t get over the great diversity in the city – a kaleidoscope of people and a unique tale carried on everyone’s shoulders. I can’t get over it yet at the same time I find myself falling in judgement of others. In the Name of Love…we as a species need to quit judging others.

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Spring In The City

“Change is hard at first. Messy in the middle and gorgeous at the end.” ~Robin Sharma

One year complete at my new job. Never imagined I would be so happy at my job based on the last two years there were the Siemens fiasco. I went from purgatory to heaven and was paid six months salary to make the change. I also moved from the suburbs to the city. In total, the change was from mundane to exciting. I love working downtown. The energy change is palpable every day.

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Each Death Diminishes Me

Everytime someone I know dies, I feel my world rock. It’s like part of my life, the force that keeps my whole, chips off. I a diminished, a little less robust, a little more tender hearted. The longer I’ve known them, the larger the piece that tumbles into eternity never to be regained.

It started with an earthquake when my dad succumbed to cancer 10 years ago followed closely by aunts and uncles, childhood friends, and recently a neighbor. I last saw him standing in the doorway sobbing the day my dad closed his eyes for the last time, when his eyes were closed for him for he died with them open. It was as if he couldn’t bear to enter eternity in darkness. I believe he wanted our faces to be his last earthly image, an image he would carry with him into forever.

I feel the pain of all those deaths and more as I sit at my desk weeping tears of loss.

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The Greatest Agony

There is no greater agony than a story untold. ~Maya Angelou

Who are you? Who am I?

Who are any of us but a series of stories, stories with many chapters replete with plots and subplots and unexpected twists and interventions by the three Moirai, the three fates? Episodes during which we felt abandoned by God and walking alone. Episodes where providence seemed to steer us away from harm toward safety, toward joy, toward a better tomorrow.

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Salmon is a Fish NOT a Color (006)

Lipstick on a Pig

Red Sports Coat

The Middle Aged Man received no fewer than six compliments on his red sports coat today with four of them from people he did not know. He also received a number of stares and sidelong glances and, if he is not mistaken, at least one snicker. But that’s ok for he is his own man.

One of the people he knew said it was a flamboyant look. Flamboyant has a few definitions and connotations. The Middle Aged Man decided he would hang his hat on the definition: tending to attract attention because of their confidence and stylishness. 

After lunch, someone remarked on the coat with a reference to salmon. The Middle Aged Man had had salmon for lunch and was wondering if he was smelling a might be fishy. So, he asked a colleague to smell his coat. She asked why so he told her what happened…

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Bleeding Red Ink

“There is nothing to writing. All you do is sit down at a typewriter and bleed.” ~Ernest Hemingway

I like to write with different colors of ink. Thoughts flowing from my brain through my fountain pen onto unlined paper helping me discover who I am. Today’s color is a favorite. It’s called cayenne. To me, it is the color of Southern Utah. It is canyon red, it is spire red, it is mesa red, it is hoodoo red, it is Colorado river red, is it Arch red, it is the red gleaned from my soul, a soul with roots buried deep in red dirt, roots anchoring my spirit in the Moab landscape.  It’s a place I must return every few years to feel whole, wholly connected to the vast universe, wholly connected to my equally vast and more mysterious innerverse. Moab is my balancing point on Earth between the depth of my soul and the expanse of the starry Milky Way. I guess you could call it my juncture of maximum energy.
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I Was Born Of Two Fathers And One Of Them Was Female

The war is over for me now, but it will always be there, the rest of my days. As I’m sure Elias will be, fighting with Barnes for what Rhah calls “possession of my soul.” There are times since, I’ve felt like a child, born of those two fathers. ~Chris Taylor, Platoon

I was born of two fathers. The Sun and the Moon. Earth and Heaven. Illumination and Reflection. Science and Magic. Reality and Fantasy. Engineer and Artist. Male and Female.

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