George R. Shirer's Blog, page 11

The Red King & The Cheshire Cat

The Red King ran around the room,his manner all aflutter.His servants and advisors,clearly heard him utter:
"The day is long,the night is cold,where is the fun in that?Let's turn the nightand day around,and seek the Cheshire Cat!"
So the court gathered,and searched the castle,seeking the Cheshire Cat,but all they found wasa note inside a strangely-stripedtop-hat.
"The Red King's mad,and that's too bad,for all your kith and kin.You should be mad,'cause you've been had,you imbecilic men!"
That's when the people knew,the Cat was right,and the Red King was insane,but better to humor the mad king's whims,than try to take the reigns.
So they ignored the Cat,and served their king,with loyalty and zeal,and when he had their headslopped off,not a one of them could squeal.

The Dark of My Soul

Tonight, there's no moon.The sky is as black as pitch.and so is my mood.
I do not know why.This mood just takes me sometimes,and I am helpless.
It just pulls me down,into the depths of my soul.A poisonous place.

Lack of Inspiration

Today has been long and tiring and I cannot think of anything to write about. Inspiration refuses to come and my efforts to produce something for this blank, white screen have come to naught.This is, too often, a significant portion of a writer's life.Or, at least, a significant portion of my writing life.So I'm not even going to try tonight, I'm just going to write this and then go watch something vapid and brain-deadening on one of the 3 billion streaming services that have replaced cable t.v.Here's hoping tomorrow's post will be more interesting.

Trinkets

When I was younger, I never wore jewelry. No rings or necklaces or bracelets. I've never really worn a watch consistantly, and, in fact, have only owned one timepiece in my entire life.So it is a little amusing that I have now begun to accumulate ncklaces and bracelets. I'm not sure why I've suddenly taken to them at this point in my life. Maybe because I don't tend to think of them as decoration. I don't wear them where people can see them. I wear the bracelets and the pendants for myself, as reminders of whatever mood or strength that I feel I'll need that day.If I think I'm going to need to maintain my calm, I'll wear my ohm pendant. If I wake up and I'm striving for balance, internal and/or external, I'll wear my ying-yang pendant.  The pentacle and the ankh I wear when I'm feeling spiritual or a need to connect with something bigger and higher than myself. I wear the nordic serpent pendant when I feel I'll need my wits about me.Some days, I don't feel the need to wear any of them. I just sail out the door, confident in myself and my abilities. Other days, I stand by the bedside table and dither over which pendant is the right one to wear today? Sometimes, I think I'd like to get a chain with empty hooks that I can attach multiple symbols to, as needed. Feeling spiritual but unbalanced? Fasten the anke and the ying-yang symbol to the chain and maybe wear the Buddha bracelet.The bracelet I wear, when I wear any, depends on my instincts. I'll usually pair the Buddha beads with the ohm pendant.  The shiny black hematite usually goes along with the pentacle and the ankh. The green bead bracelet (whose name completely escapes me) is generally worn by itself.In a way, I suppose my jewelry has become a bit like invisible armor. Some days, I just feel more secure when I'm wearing them.Don't ask me why? I don't have any idea why I feel like that. Maybe it has something to do with getting older? The realization that these pendants are functioning more like amulets or talismans, evoking parts of myself that I haven't really needed to draw upon, until now?I don't know. All I know is that I feel better when I wear my trinkets.All that said, I'm still not into rings.Or watches.

World Media Fast

Sometimes, I think the world would be a better place if all the screens in the world went dark for three days. Not forever, mind you (because I am addicted to YouTube as everyone else), but just long enough for everyone to take a deep breath and relax. Just long enough for the noise we are constantly surrounded by, generated by social media and cable news networks,  to die down and let us hear ourselves and, perhaps more importantly, the people around us.I think that might be a good thing.

Thoughts on Death

Death is not proud.Death does not hesitate because the ground is muddy or the weather is bad.Death, like the mail, serves in all weathers and climes and circumstances.Death is not cruel.Death is not kind.Death just is.Death is the door that we all must walk through some day.Death is the partner we all must dance with at the end of the evening.Death is waiting for us all, at the crossroads, to take our arm and show us the way.Death doesn't frighten me, not really, because I believe there is something beyond this Life.Dying frightens me, sometimes, and I hope my passing is not filled with pain or confusion.I hope that, when I die, I slip gently from this existence into the other, passing with a sigh and not a whimper.And when I do, Death will be there, and we'll link our arms, perhaps, and wander down a midnight road into a moonlit garden, where all my loved ones wait for me.And I will be at peace.

Bread & Circuses

Bread and circuses.That is what they offer us.We starve for the truth.

Thoughts on a Life

In case you couldn't tell from yesterday's post, I have had a birthday.  Today, I am in my fifties.But what does that mean? I read somewhere that entering one's fifties is akin to entering one's twenties, only with less time ahead of you to correct the mistakes you're bound to make.That's not a comforting thought, gentle readers.It really isn't.Although, looking back, I have to admit that my life in my twenties was actually quite good. A fair number of formative experiences occurred for me during my twenties. Perhaps, chief among them, my resolution to never fall in love again.But that's a post for another time. A time involving a great deal of liquor and digging up some old, private and terribly unpleasant memories.Today, I'm thinking about the future. Or my present, if you like.What does it mean to be in your fifties? What milestones should a person have reached by this age?I don't know. I've owned a home and sold it off because it wasn't for me.I've sat down and thrown my hat into the world of competative independant authorship. I've changed careers and invested in a business that, I feel, brings people not only great joy, but also can help establish the moral centers of young readers.I've traveled back and forth across the nation, from Alaska to Florida, from the West Coast to the East Coast and into Canada. (Lovely people, Canadians. So very nice, and I don't mean that in any kind of pejorative or dismissive sense.)So, I've done all those things and more. Am I stepping into my fifties with a lot of spaces marked off on my Life Bingo card? I don't know.  I've done things other people haven't, just as others have done things I haven't.I guess the big question is, do I feel as if I've had a fulfilling life? I'd say, for the most part, about 99%, that I have.I am content with my lot. Perhaps too content.Am I ready for the future?I don't know.I suppose we'll just have to wait and see what's next. :)

Birthday Wishes

Candles on a cake,flickering against the darkand holding wishes.
You draw a deep breath,then exhale like a dragon,snuffing out the flames.
The wishes blossom,unspoken so they might worktheir special magic.
All it costs is timeand your continued silenceregarding your wish.
The birthday magicruns strange and strong, deep and true.Don't speak. Don't spoil it.

Charitable Thoughs

This evening, as I was leaving the grocery store, a woman seated on an electric scooter outside the exit asked if I could help her. Normally, I would have shaken my head and kept on walking to my car. Tonight, I stopped and spoke to this woman.She told me a story. About how she and her family had come down from Virginia and lost everything in a house fire, and the only thing keeping them going was prayer and the kindness of strangers.Maybe it was a lie. Maybe it was the truth.I don't know.I gave her five dollars, and walked to my car, wondering if I had been fooled. And then I started to wonder why I was thinking like that.Regardless of the truth, whatever it may be, that woman was sitting outside in the cold, rainy night asking for help. So I helped her.Call me a fool if you want, or an enabler, or whatever. I gave someone in the cold a little bit of cash. Maybe she'll spend it on booze, or maybe she'll spend it on food or rent.Maybe what I should have been wondering, as I drove home, is why we live in a world where people who need help have to beg?