tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13725317652951129862024-03-25T05:51:20.183-07:00I'm Only Dancing<center><b>“And those who were seen dancing were thought to be insane by those who could not hear the music.” Friedrich Nietzsche</b></center>David Musgrovehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12786678286223517197noreply@blogger.comBlogger21125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1372531765295112986.post-58887017599023637552024-03-22T06:00:00.000-07:002024-03-22T06:00:00.135-07:00Who is 'Not Us'?:<div style="text-align: left;"><div style="text-align: center;"><b style="color: #666666;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Compassion hurts.</span></b></div><span style="background-color: white; color: #666666;"><div style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="font-size: medium;">When you feel connected to everything,</span></b></div><b><div style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="font-size: medium;">you also feel responsible for everything.</span></b></div><span style="font-size: medium;"><div style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="font-size: medium;">And you cannot turn away. </span></b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIJpLcbdORXxuJhoL5UyIvkZ8fi6wZ31TfJn91FfpUhLvnIZU6SVnznJXsOfJTVW6KYw-6KAaxrZUj_o2tfLiVnT52_xGXGz8C2TgCC33-VBUxbVHcLpLdOmRFLoV4sMfjq_zNDJ7dbhGg9JSPxB7NiYPNUgL1LxbnxPA165cv7jQo1mAvTECoB4pB4FI/s1894/Universe-cosmos-formation-creating-planets-of-the-solar-system-elements-furnished-NASA.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1500" data-original-width="1894" height="316" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIJpLcbdORXxuJhoL5UyIvkZ8fi6wZ31TfJn91FfpUhLvnIZU6SVnznJXsOfJTVW6KYw-6KAaxrZUj_o2tfLiVnT52_xGXGz8C2TgCC33-VBUxbVHcLpLdOmRFLoV4sMfjq_zNDJ7dbhGg9JSPxB7NiYPNUgL1LxbnxPA165cv7jQo1mAvTECoB4pB4FI/w400-h316/Universe-cosmos-formation-creating-planets-of-the-solar-system-elements-furnished-NASA.jpg" width="400" /></a></div></b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-weight: 400;">Your destiny is bound to the destinies of others. </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-weight: 400;">You must either learn to carry the Universe or be crushed by it. </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-weight: 400;">You must grow strong enough to love the world, </span><span style="font-weight: 400;">yet </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-weight: 400;">Empty enough to sit down at the same table with its worst horrors. </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: 17.6px; font-weight: 400;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: 17.6px; font-weight: 400;">Andrew Boyd, Daily Afflictions: </span><a href="https://www.amazon.com/Daily-Afflictions-Connected-Everything-Universe/dp/0393322815" style="color: #2288bb; font-size: 17.6px; font-weight: 400; text-decoration-line: none;"><b>The Agony of Being Connected to Everything in the Universe</b></a></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><iframe frameborder="0" height="280" src="https://youtube.com/embed/KpMGbjvBXSE?si=C7qdHSfndP6M3AD2" width="500"></iframe></div></span></b></span></div>David Musgrovehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12786678286223517197noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1372531765295112986.post-30642485803205564752024-03-01T06:00:00.000-08:002024-03-05T13:47:37.813-08:00Richard Brautigan: Trout Fishing in America<p></p><div style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="font-size: medium;">I can't remember who introduced me to Richard Brautigan.</span></b></div><span style="font-size: medium;"><div style="text-align: center;"><b>It seems like I should.</b></div><b><div style="text-align: center;"><b>Someone who reads him must be intriguing. </b></div></b></span><p></p><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td><a href="https://www.carroll.kyschools.us/userfiles/92/Classes/3654/Brautigan%20Richard%20-%20Trout%20Fishing%20in%20America.pdf" target="_blank"><img border="0" data-original-height="499" data-original-width="321" height="500" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhN_L_tSuhOTZtK6xMLOXwBbuX4q3YnAEZT5aBKYs6uxKYKNFQ60vV2uY_I1DRbwTa0rqVoVPmrJfOFHXc-EFrGxNnYU47wuQOXmki7rZT6zQJHDRWl2lK2EJaoE6nE9fBRGuSxwKY0Weo/w256-h400/trout+fishing+in+america.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="315" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption"><a href="https://www.carroll.kyschools.us/userfiles/92/Classes/3654/Brautigan%20Richard%20-%20Trout%20Fishing%20in%20America.pdf" target="_blank">Trout Fishing in America pdf here</a></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><a name='more'></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Trout Fishing In America is an abstract book without a clear central storyline. Instead, the book contains a series of anecdotes broken into chapters, with the same characters often reappearing from story to story. The settings of most of the chapters occur in three locales: </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><ol style="text-align: left;"><li><span style="font-size: medium;">Brautigan's childhood in the Pacific Northwest of the U.S. </span></li><li><span style="font-size: medium;">His day-to-day adult life in San Francisco. </span></li><li><span style="font-size: medium;">A camping trip in Idaho with his wife and infant daughter in 1961. </span></li></ol></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Most of the chapters were written during this trip.<br /></span></div></div><blockquote class="tr_bq"><b><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;">KNOCK ON WOOD (PART TWO) </span></b></blockquote><blockquote class="tr_bq"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span>One spring afternoon as a child in the strange town of Portland, </span><span>I walked down to a different street corner, and saw a row of old houses, huddled together like seals on a rock.</span> </span></blockquote><blockquote class="tr_bq"><span style="font-size: medium;">Then there was a long field that came sloping down off a hill. The field was covered with green grass and bushes. </span></blockquote><blockquote class="tr_bq"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span>On top of the hill there was a grove of tall, dark trees. At a distance I saw a waterfall come pouring down off the hill. </span> </span></blockquote><blockquote class="tr_bq"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span>It was long and white and I could almost feel its cold spray. There must be a creek there, I thought, and it probably has trout in it.</span> </span></blockquote><blockquote class="tr_bq"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Trout.</b> </span></blockquote><blockquote class="tr_bq"><span style="font-size: medium;">At last an opportunity to go trout fishing, to catch my first Trout, to behold Pittsburgh. </span></blockquote><blockquote class="tr_bq"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span>It was growing dark. I didn't have time to go and look at the creek. I walked home past the glass whiskers of the houses, reflecting the downward rushing waterfalls of night.</span> </span></blockquote><blockquote class="tr_bq"><span style="font-size: medium;">The next day I would go trout fishing for the first time. I would get up early and eat my breakfast and go.</span></blockquote><blockquote class="tr_bq"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span>I had heard that it was better to go trout fishing early in the morning. The trout were better for it. They had something extra in the morning.</span> </span></blockquote><blockquote class="tr_bq"><span style="font-size: medium;">I went home to prepare for trout fishing in America. I didn't have any fishing tackle, so I had to fall back on corny fishing tackle. Like a joke. </span></blockquote><blockquote class="tr_bq"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Why did the chicken cross the road? </b></span></blockquote><blockquote class="tr_bq"><span style="font-size: medium;">I bent a pin and tied it onto a piece of white string. And slept. </span></blockquote><blockquote class="tr_bq"><span style="font-size: medium;">The next morning I got up early and ate my breakfast. I took a slice of white bread to use for bait. I planned on making dough balls from the soft center of the bread and putting them on my vaudevillian hook. </span></blockquote><blockquote class="tr_bq"><span style="font-size: medium;">I left the place and walked down to the different street corner. How beautiful the field looked and the creek that came pouring down in a waterfall off the hill. </span></blockquote><blockquote class="tr_bq"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span>But as I got closer to the creek I could see that something was wrong. The creek did not act right. There was a strangeness to it. There was a thing about its motion that was wrong.</span> </span></blockquote><blockquote class="tr_bq"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span>Finally I got close enough to see what the trouble was.</span> </span></blockquote><blockquote class="tr_bq"><span style="font-size: medium;">The waterfall was just a flight of white wooden stairs leading up to a house in the trees. </span></blockquote><blockquote class="tr_bq"><span style="font-size: medium;">I stood there for a long time, looking up and looking down, following the stairs with my eyes, having trouble believing. Then I knocked on my creek and heard the sound of wood </span></blockquote><blockquote class="tr_bq"><span style="font-size: medium;">I ended up by being my own trout and eating the slice of bread myself. </span></blockquote><blockquote class="tr_bq"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>The Reply of Trout Fishing in America:</b></span></blockquote><blockquote class="tr_bq"><span style="font-size: medium;">There was nothing I could do. I couldn't change a flight of stairs into a creek. The boy walked back to where he came from. </span></blockquote><blockquote class="tr_bq"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span>The same thing once happened to me. I remember mistaking an old woman for a trout stream in Vermont, and I had to beg her pardon. </span> </span></blockquote><blockquote class="tr_bq"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>"Excuse me, " I said. "I thought you were a trout stream." </b></span></blockquote><blockquote class="tr_bq"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>"I'm not," she said. </b></span></blockquote><blockquote class="tr_bq"><b><span style="font-size: medium;">Trout Fishing in America <a href="https://www.carroll.kyschools.us/userfiles/92/Classes/3654/Brautigan%20Richard%20-%20Trout%20Fishing%20in%20America.pdf" target="_blank">pages 3-5 </a></span></b></blockquote><p style="text-align: center;"><iframe frameborder="0" height="280" src="https://youtube.com/embed/L5FikX1aXPk?si=ygZtv9yLdy1O06m-" style="background-image: url(https://i.ytimg.com/vi/L5FikX1aXPk/hqdefault.jpg);" width="500"></iframe> </p>David Musgrovehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12786678286223517197noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1372531765295112986.post-6143309098120682542024-02-23T13:30:00.000-08:002024-02-23T13:30:00.139-08:00Finding Yourself: In Books<p style="text-align: left;"><i>It's much easier to not know things sometimes. <b>Things change, and friends leave. And life doesn't stop for anybody.</b> I wanted to laugh. Or maybe get mad. Or maybe shrug at <b>how strange everybody was</b>, especially me.</i> </p><p style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXelKRmdNzNmi12yF-IFNk5Jg6oOYaoLXO7h2GhuQox_lZ9BMGHXDGuGpsM4NZi_nnVbqBRqMGbVKGEtZpO3TP8d4qiJsQ6dHWKsAPEBwmw6LXWJxmLokx7anLsxrC5_HuC46AeR8cktE/s1600/Perksofbeingwallflower1.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="375" data-original-width="266" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXelKRmdNzNmi12yF-IFNk5Jg6oOYaoLXO7h2GhuQox_lZ9BMGHXDGuGpsM4NZi_nnVbqBRqMGbVKGEtZpO3TP8d4qiJsQ6dHWKsAPEBwmw6LXWJxmLokx7anLsxrC5_HuC46AeR8cktE/s320/Perksofbeingwallflower1.jpg" width="226" /></a></p><span><a name='more'></a></span><p style="text-align: center;"><br /></p><div style="text-align: center;"><blockquote class="tr_bq" style="text-align: left;"><i>I think the idea is that every person has to live for his or her own life and then make the choice to share it with other people. You can't just sit there and put everybody's lives ahead of yours and think that counts as love. You just can't. You have to do things. </i><br /><i><br /></i><i>I'm going to do what I want to do. I'm going to be who I really am. And I'm going to figure out what that is. </i><br /><i><br /></i><i>And we could all sit around and wonder and feel bad about each other and blame a lot of people for what they did or didn't do or what they didn't know. I don't know. I guess there could always be someone to blame. It's just different. Maybe it's good to put things in perspective, but sometimes, I think that <b>the only perspective is to <span>really be there. </span></b></i><br /><i><br /></i><i>Because<b> <span>it's okay to feel things. I was really there. And that was enough</span></b> to make me feel infinite.</i><span style="text-align: center;"> </span></blockquote><blockquote class="tr_bq" style="text-align: left;"><b><span><i>I feel infinite.</i><span style="text-align: center;"> </span></span></b></blockquote><blockquote class="tr_bq" style="text-align: left;">Stephen Chbosky, The Perks of Being a Wallflower (<b><a href="https://silentscreamsandskinnydreams.weebly.com/uploads/5/0/1/4/50148213/the_perks_of_being_a_wallflower_-stephen_chbosky.pdf" target="_blank">pdf here</a></b>)<br /><br /></blockquote><b><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zcUI1Hk0GRU">The Importance of an Unhappy Adolescence</a></span></b><br /><b><br /></b><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><iframe frameborder="0" height="280" src="https://youtube.com/embed/zcUI1Hk0GRU?si=mNQQ0n5dcdErV9ko" width="500"></iframe></div></div>David Musgrovehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12786678286223517197noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1372531765295112986.post-67418281144663638942024-02-15T13:55:00.000-08:002024-03-05T19:05:12.381-08:00Happiness: In 100 Words or Less<p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="text-align: left;">If you want to be happy,<br /></span></span></b><b><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="text-align: left;">Be. - Henry David Thoreau</span></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMxsTYWwWuym_GJfSVEQ9iYQ3L_khwsZaYawf2oJ4kWMJ9U2nMXGoVkYzVwmB7KQknEDd9GJ__eCNbBtqegwJywYj3BkBV6d8F-sFvqaqaWjEBzuZ1PvXuj20emzDbYTOGPJ789R0DmpA/s1600/happiness.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="183" data-original-width="275" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMxsTYWwWuym_GJfSVEQ9iYQ3L_khwsZaYawf2oJ4kWMJ9U2nMXGoVkYzVwmB7KQknEDd9GJ__eCNbBtqegwJywYj3BkBV6d8F-sFvqaqaWjEBzuZ1PvXuj20emzDbYTOGPJ789R0DmpA/s400/happiness.jpg" width="400" /></a></p><span><a name='more'></a></span><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">We think Happiness is something 'out there,' some 'thing' we lack. </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">We believe we are going 'somewhere,' we will be 'someone.'</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">We'll have 'something' at 'some time' that's 'somehow' different than now. </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span><span style="font-size: medium;">This, in our mind, will <b>bring us</b> Happiness. </span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">In fact, <b>we are</b> Happiness. </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;">All the mental chatter is a commentary <br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span>on </span><span>our unwillingness to accept what we are. </span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span><br /></span></span><span style="font-size: medium;">Just Be - without Judgment - and Happiness finds us.</span></div><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><iframe frameborder="0" height="280" src="https://youtube.com/embed/e9dZQelULDk?si=mx4dnV1AY0dZvu5N" width="500"></iframe></span></p>David Musgrovehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12786678286223517197noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1372531765295112986.post-65886314367858075972023-03-20T01:20:00.005-07:002023-03-21T16:13:52.859-07:00Life at the Trinity Rescue Mission<p><span style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit; font-size: medium; font-style: inherit; font-variant-caps: inherit; font-variant-ligatures: inherit; white-space: pre-wrap;"><b>In 1984 I went through a drug and alcohol program run by Trinity Baptist Church in Jacksonville, Florida. It was free and lasted 90 days. Afterwards, I stayed at their rescue mission; in its old location at 901 Bay Street. </b></span></p><div class="jwLWP _2hXa7 _3OM4E blog-post-text-font blog-post-text-color" data-block="true" data-editor="a0gv1" data-offset-key="foo-0-0" style="background-color: white; border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; line-height: 1.5; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="font-size: 18px; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlDtPDjCubIzHY6hozIv4NpBNegn_OEgpwjIVgRAZ_4N-PVa3fjDhXKP7nOtmJzbORU370lMIag_6lQYIeYMz9JfilXTRGsd7sTvYvSASgr4p0AZkEUQ0HbZrlwqIal3oe4WegmP9ikN0/s1600/Trinity-Rescue-Mission-original-building-300x206.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="206" data-original-width="300" height="274" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlDtPDjCubIzHY6hozIv4NpBNegn_OEgpwjIVgRAZ_4N-PVa3fjDhXKP7nOtmJzbORU370lMIag_6lQYIeYMz9JfilXTRGsd7sTvYvSASgr4p0AZkEUQ0HbZrlwqIal3oe4WegmP9ikN0/s400/Trinity-Rescue-Mission-original-building-300x206.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small; white-space: pre-wrap;">Trinity Rescue Mission 901 Bay Street Jacksonville Florida</span></td></tr></tbody></table>
<a name='more'></a><div style="font-size: 18px;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: x-large; font-style: inherit; font-variant-caps: inherit; font-variant-ligatures: inherit; font-weight: bold;">Trinity Rescue Mission</span>
</div></div><div class="jwLWP _2hXa7 _3OM4E blog-post-text-font blog-post-text-color" data-block="true" data-editor="a0gv1" data-offset-key="foo-0-0" style="background-color: white; border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; line-height: 1.5; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><br /><div><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b><br /></b></span></span></div><span data-offset-key="2qsk1-0-1" style="border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; font-family: inherit; font-size: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; text-align: center; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggTa4vKZJw5oIeM0dkJFiPo2ugxHSSDJgSOp7YzT90JoRxsXWobugN8fEwwzkEeMU5AQCA2lVUy-sfLy4ha22TCd7weJjsQatEQP7hyphenhyphenbUm1gOwVPRYDpmXuQtFTY3LhLUArpJGxchLHQ8/s1600/freedom+farms.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="410" data-original-width="730" height="223" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggTa4vKZJw5oIeM0dkJFiPo2ugxHSSDJgSOp7YzT90JoRxsXWobugN8fEwwzkEeMU5AQCA2lVUy-sfLy4ha22TCd7weJjsQatEQP7hyphenhyphenbUm1gOwVPRYDpmXuQtFTY3LhLUArpJGxchLHQ8/s400/freedom+farms.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption">Freedom Farms House - Jacksonville, Florida</td></tr></tbody></table>
</span><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;"><span style="font-style: inherit;"><span>When I was there, Trinity Baptist Church ran the mission. The ministry included what’s known as the Freedom Farm, a drug and alcohol rehabilitation program.</span></span><span style="font-style: inherit;"> </span></span></span><br /><span style="font-size: 18px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></div><div class="jwLWP _2hXa7 _3OM4E blog-post-text-font blog-post-text-color" data-block="true" data-editor="a0gv1" data-offset-key="foo-0-0" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); background-color: white; border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant-east-asian: inherit; font-variant-numeric: inherit; line-height: 1.5; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span face=", "barlow" , sans-serif"><span style="font-size: large; white-space: pre-wrap;"><b>Former homeless tend to Freedom Farm
St. Augustine Record (article <a href="https://www.staugustine.com/story/news/local/2010/04/04/former-homeless-tend-freedom-farm/16088840007/" target="_blank">here</a>)</b></span></span></div><div class="jwLWP _2hXa7 _3OM4E blog-post-text-font blog-post-text-color" data-block="true" data-editor="a0gv1" data-offset-key="5i8me-0-0" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); background-color: white; border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; font-family: barlow-extralight, barlow, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant-east-asian: inherit; font-variant-numeric: inherit; line-height: 1.5; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8-rNe_5MhCZDPuvl6_WztFiNSkasLtL32N3aF8BIETOY30n9Ana2s7PRnHE3zI3x15wINQ_XYUCgk66E6cNJL-m0n3p3gk4F7zKDGEiy8efpszvPWwdcyA2LqxHMPgbQNeR7BiviqMRk/s1600/freedom+farm+2.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="472" data-original-width="696" height="271" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8-rNe_5MhCZDPuvl6_WztFiNSkasLtL32N3aF8BIETOY30n9Ana2s7PRnHE3zI3x15wINQ_XYUCgk66E6cNJL-m0n3p3gk4F7zKDGEiy8efpszvPWwdcyA2LqxHMPgbQNeR7BiviqMRk/s400/freedom+farm+2.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption">photo credit: St. Augustine Record</td></tr></tbody></table></div><div class="jwLWP _2hXa7 _3OM4E blog-post-text-font blog-post-text-color" data-block="true" data-editor="a0gv1" data-offset-key="cslrh-0-0" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); background-color: white; border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant-east-asian: inherit; font-variant-numeric: inherit; line-height: 1.5; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><blockquote class="tr_bq" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; direction: ltr; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; position: relative; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-style: inherit;">
</span><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;"><span data-offset-key="cslrh-0-0" style="border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"></span></span></blockquote><blockquote><blockquote class="tr_bq" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; direction: ltr; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; position: relative; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;"><span data-offset-key="cslrh-0-0" style="border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">Established in 1962 by Trinity Baptist Church church leaders, Trinity Rescue Mission expresses their burden for the homeless and hurting people on the streets in Jacksonville. Today, Trinity Rescue Mission operates as an independent, Christ-centered 501(c)(3) non-profit organization. Although now a separate entity, Trinity Baptist Church remains a key ministry partner of Trinity Rescue Mission. </span> </span></blockquote><blockquote class="tr_bq" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; direction: ltr; font-family: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; position: relative; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-weight: inherit;">
</span><span data-offset-key="6nhmn-0-0" style="border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; color: #0f2453; font-family: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span data-text="true" style="border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; font-family: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><b>Our History: <a href="https://trinityrescue.org/about/our-history/" target="_blank">Trinity Rescue Mission</a></b></span></span></span></blockquote></blockquote><blockquote class="tr_bq" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; direction: ltr; font-family: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; position: relative; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span data-offset-key="6nhmn-0-0" style="border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; color: #0f2453; font-family: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span data-text="true" style="border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; font-family: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><b><a href="https://trinityrescue.org/about/our-history/" target="_blank"></a></b></span></span></span></blockquote><span face="barlow-extralight, barlow, sans-serif">
</span><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="font-family: barlow-extralight, barlow, sans-serif; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUuKacSIbZjEIZzt1xwdAhKefmGeQqejHOWeee_AIBQcP_CCxyQCJzoLwiPd5VIwu60ewhal6NJBH1-Ml7WM4vBQRdkCNeBs7MTCheRXdGpdiGJJnr-TX6j-PCzr6oq1J3O0evXcJg27s/s1600/bob+gray.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUuKacSIbZjEIZzt1xwdAhKefmGeQqejHOWeee_AIBQcP_CCxyQCJzoLwiPd5VIwu60ewhal6NJBH1-Ml7WM4vBQRdkCNeBs7MTCheRXdGpdiGJJnr-TX6j-PCzr6oq1J3O0evXcJg27s/s400/bob+gray.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption">Dr. Bob Gray - former pastor Trinity Baptist Church</td></tr></tbody></table><span face="barlow-extralight, barlow, sans-serif">
</span><span face="barlow-extralight, barlow, sans-serif" style="font-style: inherit; font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Dr. Bob Gray </span></span><span face="barlow-extralight, barlow, sans-serif"><br />
</span><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;"><span style="font-style: inherit;">Dr. Bob Gray was the pastor at Trinity Baptist church. His music director and associate pastor was Lenny Willinger, who also taught at the college. Brother Willinger’s mother sold her expensive home up north, bought the building at 901 Bay Street, and turned it into a Rescue Mission in 1962. She lived in a small two-room apartment on-site. </span><br />
<span>(Note: Dr. Gray was charged in 2007 with pedophilia. The church operated a massive Sunday School bus program. He was guilty of sexually molesting many of the children under their care. He died before his case went to court.)</span><span style="font-style: italic;">
</span><span style="font-style: inherit;"><span data-offset-key="8d5k3-1-0" style="border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; color: #0f2453; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span data-text="true" style="border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">
Read more: <a href="https://goodfaithmedia.org/accused-pedophile-baptist-preacher-dies-cms-11877/" target="_blank">Accused Pedophile Baptist Preacher Dies</a></span></span></span></span></div><div class="jwLWP _2hXa7 _3OM4E blog-post-text-font blog-post-text-color _21OX4" data-block="true" data-editor="a0gv1" data-offset-key="59qd2-0-0" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); background-color: white; border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; font-family: barlow-extralight, barlow, sans-serif; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant-east-asian: inherit; font-variant-numeric: inherit; line-height: 1.5; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">
<div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="59qd2-0-0" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; direction: ltr; font-family: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; position: relative; text-align: center; vertical-align: baseline;"><span data-offset-key="59qd2-0-0" style="border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; color: #0f2453; font-family: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><iframe frameborder="0" height="280" src="https://youtube.com/embed/v_NPCgyIJbE" style="background-image: url(https://i.ytimg.com/vi/v_NPCgyIJbE/hqdefault.jpg);" width="500"></iframe></span></div><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="59qd2-0-0" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; direction: ltr; font-family: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; position: relative; vertical-align: baseline;"><span data-offset-key="59qd2-0-0" style="border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; color: #0f2453; font-family: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><br /></span></div><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="59qd2-0-0" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; direction: ltr; font-family: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; position: relative; vertical-align: baseline;"><span data-offset-key="59qd2-0-0" style="border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; color: #0f2453; font-family: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span data-text="true" style="border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; font-family: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; color: #0f2453; font-family: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><b style="color: black; font-family: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant-caps: inherit; font-variant-ligatures: inherit;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Director: Men's Section</span></b></span></span></span></div></div><div class="jwLWP _2hXa7 _3OM4E blog-post-text-font blog-post-text-color" data-block="true" data-editor="a0gv1" data-offset-key="d4p61-0-0" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); background-color: white; border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant-east-asian: inherit; font-variant-numeric: inherit; line-height: 1.5; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="d4p61-0-0" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; direction: ltr; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; position: relative; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">
</span><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium; font-style: inherit;">Mrs. Willinger was a tiny lady. Well over 70 years old, she was still in charge in 1985. She needed help with the Men’s section. Back then, very few women were in homeless shelters or on the streets. It was mostly men. That’s changed over time. </span></div><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="d4p61-0-0" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; direction: ltr; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; position: relative; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;">
<span style="font-style: inherit;"><span data-offset-key="3mm5k-0-0" style="border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">Mrs. Willinger took a personal interest in the women, but at her age, the men were too much for her to handle alone. She had an on-site director of the men’s section. At the time I was there, he was leaving to find </span><span data-offset-key="3mm5k-0-1" style="border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: italic; font-variant: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><b>‘real work’</b></span><span data-offset-key="3mm5k-0-2" style="border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">. This position was a ministry, not a job. He wanted more money and to live off-property. They asked me to take over. </span></span></span></div><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="d4p61-0-0" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; direction: ltr; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; position: relative; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;">
<span style="font-style: inherit;">The pay was $25.00 a week. The church renovated a room for me on the property. They offered bible classes at their college, mainly to get me out of that atmosphere for a few hours a week and around other young preacher boys. </span></span></div><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="d4p61-0-0" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; direction: ltr; font-family: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; position: relative; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">
<b style="font-family: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant-caps: inherit; font-variant-ligatures: inherit;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Doubting Thomas</span></b></div><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="d4p61-0-0" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; direction: ltr; font-family: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; position: relative; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><b style="font-family: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant-caps: inherit; font-variant-ligatures: inherit;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></b></div><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="d4p61-0-0" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; direction: ltr; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; position: relative; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;"><span style="font-style: inherit;">The current director of the men’s section took one look at his replacement and laughed out loud. He was over 6’ 5" tall, weighed over 300 pounds, and carried a handgun and a billy club. I was a puny pip-squeak, about to learn some hard life lessons. </span><span style="font-style: inherit;">He tried to scare me off; told me I’d last less than one month. But the director of the alcohol and drug rehabilitation center, himself an associate pastor, believed I could do it. That was enough for me. </span></span></div><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="d4p61-0-0" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; direction: ltr; font-family: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; position: relative; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; font-style: inherit;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>Plan</b></span></span></div><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="d4p61-0-0" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; direction: ltr; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; position: relative; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">
</span><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium; font-style: inherit;">The departing head of the men’s section came from the streets himself. He wore blue jeans and a T-shirt wherever he went. He constantly beat up on the homeless drunks who used the mission services. I was determined to be different. </span></div><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="d4p61-0-0" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; direction: ltr; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; position: relative; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;">
<span data-offset-key="9jq1m-0-0" style="border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">The first thing I decided was that my position deserved dignity. I wouldn’t be seen wearing anything but a shirt and tie - and, when possible - a suit jacket. If they beat me, I’d face it with dignity. The second thing I pledged was to never step backward. When faced with conflict, I’d move forward. </span><span data-offset-key="9jq1m-0-1" style="border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: italic; font-variant: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><b>Always</b></span><span data-offset-key="9jq1m-0-2" style="border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"> - one step forward.</span></span></div><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="d4p61-0-0" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; direction: ltr; font-family: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; position: relative; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Results</span></span></div><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="d4p61-0-0" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; direction: ltr; font-family: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; position: relative; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium; font-style: inherit;">My plan worked. No matter how angry they were, these tough street fighters wouldn’t hit a soft-spoken man in a suit who stepped forward. I never yelled, cussed, or threatened. I stepped forward and softly repeated what I’d said. I don’t know why, but it worked. Maybe they grumbled; maybe they cursed; maybe they yelled. But they didn't strike me. </span></div><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="d4p61-0-0" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; direction: ltr; font-family: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; position: relative; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium; font-style: inherit;"><br /></span></div><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="d4p61-0-0" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; direction: ltr; font-family: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; position: relative; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium; font-style: inherit;"><b>(Serial killers Henry Lee Lucas and Ottis Toole stayed at this mission, link<a href="https://www.serialkillercalendar.com/Ottis%20TOOLE.php" target="_blank"> here</a>.)</b></span></div><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="d4p61-0-0" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; direction: ltr; font-family: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; position: relative; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: inherit; font-style: inherit;"><br /></span></div><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="d4p61-0-0" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; direction: ltr; font-family: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; position: relative; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-style: inherit;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>Tale of two Johns</b></span></span></div><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="d4p61-0-0" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; direction: ltr; font-family: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; position: relative; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium; font-style: inherit;">The mission staff was constantly changing. The homeless themselves worked for us. Our system worked like this;</span></div><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="d4p61-0-0" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; direction: ltr; font-family: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; position: relative; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><ul style="font-style: inherit;"><li><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium; font-style: inherit;">Anyone could come in for supper as long as they stayed for church service. </span></li><li><span style="font-size: medium;">After the service, they were free to leave. They could come back every night to eat. </span></li><li><span style="font-size: medium;">Three days a month they could stay overnight with us. </span></li></ul><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium; font-variant-caps: inherit; font-variant-ligatures: inherit;"><b><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="d4p61-0-0" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; direction: ltr; font-family: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; position: relative; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium; font-variant-caps: inherit; font-variant-ligatures: inherit;"><b><br /></b></span></div>(NOTE: This was to ensure we didn’t become a ‘flop-house.’ Whenever people stay too long, they bring trouble with them.) </b></span></div><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="d4p61-0-0" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; direction: ltr; font-family: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; position: relative; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium; font-variant-caps: inherit; font-variant-ligatures: inherit;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="d4p61-0-0" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; direction: ltr; font-family: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; position: relative; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><ul><li><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium; font-style: inherit;">If they ate with us but skipped services, they couldn’t access us for 30 days. </span></li><li><span style="font-size: medium;">Everyone left after breakfast the next morning. </span></li><li><span style="font-size: medium;">Anyone who volunteered to work on staff with us could stay all day. </span></li></ul><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium; font-variant-caps: inherit; font-variant-ligatures: inherit;">When I took over, two men named John were long-time staff members. They had been with Mrs. Willinger for years.</span></div><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="d4p61-0-0" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; direction: ltr; font-family: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; position: relative; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; font-style: inherit;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>John Z.</b></span></span></div><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="d4p61-0-0" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; direction: ltr; font-family: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; position: relative; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-style: inherit;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b><br /></b></span></span></div><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="d4p61-0-0" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; direction: ltr; font-family: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; position: relative; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-style: inherit;">John Z. </span><span data-offset-key="3dlvp-0-1" style="border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; font-family: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">(I won’t use his last name)</span><span data-offset-key="3dlvp-0-2" style="border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; font-family: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"> was from New York. He was smaller than me. He was sharp, curious, and skeptical. He had credibility and a good rapport with the street people and the mission staff. I depended on him to be my eyes and ears on the street. </span></span></div><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="d4p61-0-0" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; direction: ltr; font-family: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; position: relative; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-style: inherit;"><br /></span></span></div><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="d4p61-0-0" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; direction: ltr; font-family: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; position: relative; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-style: inherit;">John Z. also had a driver’s license, something unusual among people living on the street. He drove with me when we picked up food donations. The goods came from the local bread bakery, grocery stores, and the food pantry.</span><span style="font-family: inherit; font-style: inherit;"> </span></span></div><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="d4p61-0-0" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; direction: ltr; font-family: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; position: relative; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-size: medium;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; font-style: inherit;">John was a jack of all trades. When we needed a cook, John stepped up. He was a driver; he staffed the desk, and he did whatever we needed. Except cleaning the bathrooms and the sleeping area. This was the domain of John No-Name. </span></span></div><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="d4p61-0-0" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; direction: ltr; font-family: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; position: relative; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-style: inherit;"><br /></span></span></div><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="d4p61-0-0" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; direction: ltr; font-family: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; position: relative; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-style: inherit;"><b>(Note: I never knew his last name or anything else about him. Well, except that he always kept the showers and sleeping quarters spotless.)</b></span></span></div><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="d4p61-0-0" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; direction: ltr; font-family: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; position: relative; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; font-style: inherit;"><b><span style="font-size: x-large;">John No-Name</span></b></span></div><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="d4p61-0-0" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; direction: ltr; font-family: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; position: relative; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium; font-style: inherit;">John N-N worked on staff full-time. Mrs. Willinger told me about him. </span></div><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="d4p61-0-0" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; direction: ltr; font-family: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; position: relative; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium; font-style: inherit;"><br /></span></div><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="d4p61-0-0" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; direction: ltr; font-family: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; position: relative; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium; font-style: inherit;">When she first saw John, he lived in the woods outside the mission. She’d spot him at the edge of the forest, looking at the mission. But he never came over. She’d ask him to, but he always said no and disappeared into the trees. So she would take him a sandwich when she saw him. This went on for months</span></div><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="d4p61-0-0" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; direction: ltr; font-family: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; position: relative; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-size: medium;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; font-style: inherit;">Then - one day - he quietly approached her with his head hanging down. He asked if she had some clean socks. His feet were in awful shape. </span></span></div><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="d4p61-0-0" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; direction: ltr; font-family: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; position: relative; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-variant-caps: inherit; font-variant-ligatures: inherit;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-style: inherit;"><br /></span></span></span></div><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="d4p61-0-0" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; direction: ltr; font-family: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; position: relative; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-variant-caps: inherit; font-variant-ligatures: inherit;"><b><span style="font-family: inherit; font-style: inherit;">(Note: When socks get wet and don’t properly dry out, they grow bacteria, and fungus, cause open cracks, and have horrible foot problems. When you’re homeless, you’re always on your feet.)</span><span data-offset-key="7ekef-0-1" style="border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; font-family: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span></b></span></span></div><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="d4p61-0-0" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; direction: ltr; font-family: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; position: relative; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-size: medium;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; font-style: inherit;">She helped him with dry socks and got his feet repaired. She convinced him to stay on. She promised he could stay upstairs, share a room with only John Z., and not be around anyone else. He would be in charge of the shower/sleeping quarters. </span><span style="font-family: inherit; font-style: inherit;">After chapel, those staying the night could go upstairs. </span></span></div><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="d4p61-0-0" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; direction: ltr; font-family: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; position: relative; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-style: inherit;"><br /></span></span></div><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="d4p61-0-0" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; direction: ltr; font-family: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; position: relative; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-style: inherit;">We had three long rooms with bunk beds. We slept twelve men per room. With three rooms, we could host 36 guests every night. The men had to shower. These guys went days - sometimes weeks - without bathing. For health and sanitation reasons, we made them shower. </span></span></div><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="d4p61-0-0" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; direction: ltr; font-family: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; position: relative; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-size: medium;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; font-style: inherit;">John manned the shower station. He handed them towels, pajamas, clean underwear, and socks for sleeping. He secured their clothes in a personal locker. This protected the men from thieves stealing their belongings while they slept. It also kept drug paraphernalia and weapons from appearing out of their street clothes in the middle of the night.</span></span></div><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="d4p61-0-0" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; direction: ltr; font-family: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; position: relative; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium; font-style: inherit;">John was in charge of their clothes, of cleaning the showers afterward, changing the sheets, and washing the dirty linen in the morning. Then he spent the rest of the day in his room upstairs, only coming down to eat.</span></div><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="d4p61-0-0" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; direction: ltr; font-family: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; position: relative; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; font-style: inherit;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>Mealtimes</b></span></span></div><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="d4p61-0-0" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; direction: ltr; font-family: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; position: relative; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium; font-style: inherit;">Every night, we served supper for the public. We served breakfast every morning for the people who stayed over. Then the guests left - unless they volunteered to be on staff - we locked the building and cleaned up. The noon-time meal was for staff members only. </span></div><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="d4p61-0-0" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; direction: ltr; font-family: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; position: relative; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-size: medium;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; font-style: inherit;">The first thing I noticed was the discrepancy in meals. We served nothing but soup to our clients on the street. Our staff had their dinner before we opened at night. This meal was meats, potatoes, and dessert. I thought the people donating food to us would not take kindly to this. Why was our cook making two meals? I stopped this practice. Everyone would eat the same thing. </span></span></div><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="d4p61-0-0" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; direction: ltr; font-family: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; position: relative; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-size: medium;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; font-style: inherit;">John Z. was skeptical. He told me the better meals were rewards for the staff. They didn’t get paid. Food donations would not support full meals for everyone. I said if we only had soup for clients at night, we would eat soup. I couldn’t justify taking donations for the homeless from our community and eating the food ourselves.</span></span></div><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="d4p61-0-0" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; direction: ltr; font-family: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; position: relative; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; font-style: inherit;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>Doubting Thomas Strikes Again</b></span></span></div><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="d4p61-0-0" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; direction: ltr; font-family: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; position: relative; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">
<span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">The outgoing director attended the church. When he heard of my new rules, he hit the roof. He was furious. </span><span style="font-family: inherit; font-variant-caps: inherit; font-variant-ligatures: inherit;">“<i><b>Don’t tell me you are wasting good food on that street trash! You might as well throw caviar to pigs!</b></i>” </span></span></div><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="d4p61-0-0" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; direction: ltr; font-family: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; position: relative; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></div><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="d4p61-0-0" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; direction: ltr; font-family: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; position: relative; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I said nothing. I am determined to do the right thing. So we cooked one meal. Word got out in the community that we served full meals now. Our donations went up, and our clientele increased. We didn’t eat soup one night while I was the director. Everyone ate well. </span></span></div><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="d4p61-0-0" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; direction: ltr; font-family: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; position: relative; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-size: medium;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">John, who doubted me at the start, cornered me one day and said, </span><span style="font-family: inherit; font-variant-caps: inherit; font-variant-ligatures: inherit;">“<b><i>I’m amazed. I’ve been here for years and have never seen so many food donations. And I’ve seen people angry at you and ranting about your rules. But nobody ever talks about beating you up.</i></b>”<b> </b></span></span></div><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="d4p61-0-0" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; direction: ltr; font-family: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; position: relative; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; font-style: inherit;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>Preacher Boys</b></span></span></div><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="d4p61-0-0" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; direction: ltr; font-family: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; position: relative; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium; font-style: inherit;">In bible college, ministry students were expected to accept preaching opportunities. Local nursing homes provided an outlet for these students. So did the rescue mission. We needed a preacher 365 days a year. I played the piano every night for the preacher boys who signed up for the mission. And I filled in whenever somebody didn’t show up. This happened at least bi-monthly. </span></div><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="d4p61-0-0" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; direction: ltr; font-family: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; position: relative; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-size: medium;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Some kids from the school were real treasures. They stayed after the service, talked to the men, and gave me some company from the </span><span data-offset-key="9epd-0-1" style="border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; font-family: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">‘world out there.’</span><span data-offset-key="9epd-0-2" style="border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; font-family: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"> It’s easy to get into a </span><span data-offset-key="9epd-0-3" style="border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; font-family: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">‘depressing bubble’</span><span data-offset-key="9epd-0-4" style="border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; font-family: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"> when you see failure day after day. And make no mistake. Success stories are few. </span><span data-offset-key="9epd-0-5" style="border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; font-family: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">Non-existent, in fact. </span></span></div><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="d4p61-0-0" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; direction: ltr; font-family: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; position: relative; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-size: medium;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">But we had too many</span><span data-offset-key="31ep9-0-1" style="border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; font-family: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"> ‘glamour preachers.’</span><span data-offset-key="31ep9-0-2" style="border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; font-family: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"> They would bring some girl from the college to show her how they ministered to the needy. </span><span data-offset-key="31ep9-0-3" style="border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; font-family: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">I hated it!</span><span data-offset-key="31ep9-0-4" style="border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; font-family: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"> These men on the street didn’t need Pretty Church Ladies showing up to their services. It embarrassed the men. </span></span></div><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="d4p61-0-0" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; direction: ltr; font-family: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; position: relative; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-variant-caps: inherit; font-variant-ligatures: inherit;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></span></div><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="d4p61-0-0" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; direction: ltr; font-family: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; position: relative; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-variant-caps: inherit; font-variant-ligatures: inherit;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">And these </span><span data-offset-key="ahgk5-0-1" style="border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; font-family: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">'pretty things’</span><span data-offset-key="ahgk5-0-2" style="border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; font-family: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"> were clueless. Without fail, they would corner me for praise. </span></span><span style="font-family: inherit; font-variant-caps: inherit; font-variant-ligatures: inherit;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">‘<i><b>Oh, I don’t know how you do this. You work with the </b></i></span><span data-offset-key="718rn-0-1" style="border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; font-family: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span data-text="true" style="border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; font-family: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><i><b>‘scum of the earth.</b></i></span></span><span data-offset-key="718rn-0-2" style="border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; font-family: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><i><b>’ You must be so saintly.</b></i>’ I was not amused.</span></span></span></div><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="d4p61-0-0" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; direction: ltr; font-family: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; position: relative; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-size: medium;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; font-style: inherit;">I made a rule. If a preacher boy showed up with girls on his arm, he wasn’t taking the pulpit. I would ask them to leave. Needless to say, the number of vacant nights when I had to fill-in increased exponentially. </span></span></div><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="d4p61-0-0" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; direction: ltr; font-family: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; position: relative; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; font-style: inherit;"><b><span style="font-size: x-large;">Piano Man</span></b></span></div><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="d4p61-0-0" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; direction: ltr; font-family: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; position: relative; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">
<span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">One day, I couldn’t believe what I had heard. Someone was in the chapel, singing and playing the most fantastic version of </span><span data-offset-key="al72b-0-1" style="border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; font-family: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">“Precious Memories (How They Linger).”</span><span data-offset-key="al72b-0-2" style="border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; font-family: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"> I asked John Z., </span><span data-offset-key="al72b-0-3" style="border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; font-family: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">“<i><b>Who’s here</b></i>?”</span><span data-offset-key="al72b-0-4" style="border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; font-family: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"> With a sly smirk, he said John N-N had come down from his loft and started playing the piano that day. </span></span></div><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="d4p61-0-0" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; direction: ltr; font-family: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; position: relative; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-size: medium;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">John N-N was a very light-skinned black man with freckles. His demeanor reminded me of Batman’s butler, Alfred. He said little but got things done properly. With no words, it was clear when he thought you</span><span data-offset-key="5trvi-0-1" style="border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; font-family: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"> ‘out-of-place’.</span><span data-offset-key="5trvi-0-2" style="border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; font-family: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span></span></div><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="d4p61-0-0" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; direction: ltr; font-family: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; position: relative; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-size: medium;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">He had no accent when he spoke. Not Southern, Northern, Mid-Western, British; no slang. I often thought his dad was a lifetime serviceman. Military brats have no discernible accent because they move around so much. </span></span></div><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="d4p61-0-0" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; direction: ltr; font-family: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; position: relative; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></div><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="d4p61-0-0" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; direction: ltr; font-family: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; position: relative; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">So, I don’t have a clue where he learned to sing and play black gospel piano. His rendition was the most soulful I’ve ever heard. I’ve searched - in vain - all over YouTube for anything similar to his version. Only he knows where he learned it. </span></span></div><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="d4p61-0-0" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; direction: ltr; font-family: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; position: relative; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-size: medium;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">This was the only song I ever heard him perform. But I knew I had to have him play for me when I preached again. I still played the hymns for the services. He couldn’t. But whenever he would, I had him play </span><span data-offset-key="3jmv5-0-1" style="border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; font-family: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">“Precious Memories”</span><span data-offset-key="3jmv5-0-2" style="border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; font-family: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"> for our service. </span></span></div><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="d4p61-0-0" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; direction: ltr; font-family: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; position: relative; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-variant-caps: inherit; font-variant-ligatures: inherit;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></span></div><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="d4p61-0-0" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; direction: ltr; font-family: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; position: relative; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-variant-caps: inherit; font-variant-ligatures: inherit;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">None of the other preacher boys thought his song fit our type of church service. They admitted it was good but was </span><span data-offset-key="8m9ik-0-1" style="border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; font-family: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">‘too ethnic’</span><span data-offset-key="8m9ik-0-2" style="border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; font-family: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"> and had </span><span data-offset-key="8m9ik-0-3" style="border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; font-family: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">“too much swing.”</span><span data-offset-key="8m9ik-0-4" style="border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; font-family: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"> Think Jerry Lee Lewis and Little Richard performing </span><span data-offset-key="8m9ik-0-5" style="border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; font-family: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">“I’ll Fly Away.”</span><span data-offset-key="8m9ik-0-6" style="border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; font-family: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"> Yeah, it was that vibe</span><span data-offset-key="8m9ik-2-0" style="border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; font-family: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">. But the men of the street loved it, and I was a </span><span data-offset-key="8m9ik-2-1" style="border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; font-family: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">raging fanboy</span><span data-offset-key="8m9ik-2-2" style="border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; font-family: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">. </span></span></span></div><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="d4p61-0-0" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; direction: ltr; font-family: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; position: relative; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-variant-caps: inherit; font-variant-ligatures: inherit;"><br /></span></div><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="d4p61-0-0" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; direction: ltr; font-family: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; position: relative; text-align: center; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-variant-caps: inherit; font-variant-ligatures: inherit;"><iframe frameborder="0" height="380" src="https://youtube.com/embed/9Pl7L9kG-F8" width="500"></iframe></span></div><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="d4p61-0-0" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; direction: ltr; font-family: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; position: relative; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; font-style: inherit;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>Bakery Work</b></span></span></div><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="d4p61-0-0" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; direction: ltr; font-family: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; position: relative; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium; font-style: inherit;">We had a deal with the bakery. They made bread overnight for fresh delivery in the morning. When someone called in sick, they still had to get the bread out. So they would call us in the middle of the night to see if one of our overnight guests wanted work; for pay when they got off that morning. The bakery gave us $25.00 weekly to wake up men who wanted to work. They sent over a car to take them and to bring them back. </span></div><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="d4p61-0-0" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; direction: ltr; font-family: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; position: relative; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-size: medium;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; font-style: inherit;">John Z. would ask at check-in for anyone willing to work if needed. He made the list and kept track of the best prospects. Then John N-N had to get up, unlock their clothes and help them get ready for work. Mrs. Willinger gave me the $25.00 check. I cashed it and split it between the two Johns; $12.50 per week, per John. Hey, I was asleep while they were making this happen.</span></span></div><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="d4p61-0-0" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; direction: ltr; font-family: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; position: relative; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; font-style: inherit;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>Monster Under the Bed</b></span></span></div><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="d4p61-0-0" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; direction: ltr; font-family: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; position: relative; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">
<span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-style: inherit;">On Thanksgiving Day in 1985, I met my future - and now ex-wife. The college students were mostly home for the holidays. The school cafeteria was closed. So the rescue mission made a Thanksgiving Meal and invited the kids who were staying in the empty dorms. Dianne was one of those pupils. We started dating. </span><span style="font-family: inherit; font-style: inherit;">Soon, we were discussing marriage. We thought the room at the mission would be fine for the two of us. But I cared about safety, so I was seeking some guidance<b>.</b></span></span><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhd93rkRcX8LCV5T5RNHL_2vmzU2dukCRFirUNJ_T7g9_5xTc_iqpJWAoW0EAWbDCspUJrpnevzUKWRBvyZzPEyRCnIsL_UOA2QFsxP3y9wu8tGnkmPNVw9iu_Ia5Uxz2hNjvaRE2WUaiY/s1600/david+and+dianne.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="757" data-original-width="608" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhd93rkRcX8LCV5T5RNHL_2vmzU2dukCRFirUNJ_T7g9_5xTc_iqpJWAoW0EAWbDCspUJrpnevzUKWRBvyZzPEyRCnIsL_UOA2QFsxP3y9wu8tGnkmPNVw9iu_Ia5Uxz2hNjvaRE2WUaiY/w321-h400/david+and+dianne.jpg" width="321" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption"><span style="font-size: 12.8px;">David and Dianne (Johnson) Musgrove</span></td></tr></tbody></table>
<span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-style: inherit;">One night Mrs. Willinger called me up to the ladies section. We’d put a new guy on staff that day. He was hiding under the girls' beds, waiting for them to return from their shower. I had to run him off. Within days he was front-page news. Wanted for rape and murder in other states, he’d made his way to Jacksonville, Florida. I had an answer. </span>
<span style="font-family: inherit; font-style: inherit;">
</span><span style="font-family: inherit; font-style: inherit;">I left the mission to attend a night college in Greenville, South Carolina. They geared the curriculum towards older married men with daytime jobs. Dianne and I married. Both our children were born in Greeneville. The first summer, we traveled back to Trinity to catch up with old friends. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit; font-style: inherit;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>Doubting Thomas: Conclusion</b></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: medium;"><span data-offset-key="6bcoc-0-0" style="border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; font-family: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">To my surprise, both Johns left the rescue mission soon after I did. My old nemesis, Doubting Thomas, was gloating. He informed me that - because I was so easy on these common street rats - they got too big for themselves and wouldn’t stick around. Now, he said, they were probably back on the streets. If they were still alive. No one saw or heard from them again. He hoped I was proud of my </span><span data-offset-key="6bcoc-0-1" style="border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; font-family: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: italic; font-variant: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">‘<b>do-gooder</b>’</span><span data-offset-key="6bcoc-0-2" style="border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; font-family: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"> crap. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit; font-style: inherit;">I never saw either John spend any of their $12.50 a week on anything. They told no one they got it. It was safe that way. I said nothing to anyone, either. Maybe I kid myself, but I like to think they saved up and became one of the few success stories to come out of my rescue mission days. </span><span style="font-family: inherit; font-style: inherit;">If I could locate anyone I’ve lost track of, it would be them. I’d like to know what happened.</span><span style="font-family: inherit; font-style: inherit;"> </span></span></div><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="d4p61-0-0" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; direction: ltr; font-family: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; position: relative; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></div><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="d4p61-0-0" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; direction: ltr; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant-east-asian: inherit; font-variant-numeric: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; position: relative; vertical-align: baseline;"><div style="text-align: center;"><span face="barlow-extralight, barlow, sans-serif" style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><b>How to Give Socks to Homeless People</b></span></span></div><div style="font-family: inherit; font-variant-caps: inherit; font-variant-ligatures: inherit; text-align: center; white-space: pre-wrap;">
<iframe frameborder="0" height="280" src="https://youtube.com/embed/RVHaf4FtsfE" width="500"></iframe></div></div></div><div class="jwLWP _2hXa7 _3OM4E blog-post-text-font blog-post-text-color _21OX4" data-block="true" data-editor="a0gv1" data-offset-key="9hvqn-0-0" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); background-color: white; border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; font-family: barlow-extralight, barlow, sans-serif; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant-east-asian: inherit; font-variant-numeric: inherit; line-height: 1.5; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="9hvqn-0-0" style="border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; direction: ltr; font-family: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; position: relative; text-align: center; vertical-align: baseline;"><div style="font-weight: inherit;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: x-large; font-style: inherit; font-weight: bold; text-align: left;">Give the Gift of Socks</span></div><div style="font-weight: inherit;"><br /></div></div></div><div class="jwLWP _2hXa7 _3OM4E blog-post-text-font blog-post-text-color _21OX4" data-block="true" data-editor="a0gv1" data-offset-key="4dfp4-0-0" style="background-color: white; border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; line-height: 1.5; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="4dfp4-0-0" style="border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; direction: ltr; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant-east-asian: inherit; font-variant-numeric: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; position: relative; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-size: medium; white-space: pre-wrap;">Homeless people need socks. Shelters get lots of clothes. They throw most of it away. BUT they never have enough clean socks. </span></div><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="4dfp4-0-0" style="border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; direction: ltr; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant-east-asian: inherit; font-variant-numeric: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; position: relative; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-size: medium; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></div><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="4dfp4-0-0" style="border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; direction: ltr; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant-east-asian: inherit; font-variant-numeric: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; position: relative; vertical-align: baseline;"><ul><span data-offset-key="8f95u-0-8" style="border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; font-size: medium; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant-east-asian: inherit; font-variant-numeric: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><li><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">Homeless diabetics risk foot injury. </span></li><li><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">Wet socks breed bacteria, causing infections.</span></li><li><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">Ragged socks do not keep the feet warm in winter.</span></li><li><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">Foot amputations can occur for a lack of clean socks.</span></li><li><span data-offset-key="2in7i-0-0" style="border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; font-family: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Nothing is more embarrassing than nasty feet and foot odor. </span></li><li><span data-offset-key="2in7i-0-0" style="border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; font-family: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Nothing </span><span data-offset-key="2in7i-0-1" style="border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; font-family: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">gives a homeless person</span><span data-offset-key="2in7i-0-2" style="border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; font-family: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> more </span><span data-offset-key="2in7i-0-3" style="border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; font-family: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">dignity</span><span data-offset-key="2in7i-0-4" style="border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; font-family: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> than having clean socks. </span></li></span></ul></div><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="4dfp4-0-0" style="border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; direction: ltr; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant-east-asian: inherit; font-variant-numeric: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; position: relative; vertical-align: baseline;"><span><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: x-large; font-style: inherit; white-space: pre-wrap;"><b><br /></b></span></span></div><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="4dfp4-0-0" style="border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; direction: ltr; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant-east-asian: inherit; font-variant-numeric: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; position: relative; vertical-align: baseline;"><span><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: x-large; font-style: inherit; white-space: pre-wrap;"><b>Donate Socks For the Homeless </b></span></span></div><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="4dfp4-0-0" style="border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; direction: ltr; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant-east-asian: inherit; font-variant-numeric: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; position: relative; vertical-align: baseline;"><span><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: x-large; font-style: inherit; white-space: pre-wrap;"><b><br /></b></span></span></div><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="4dfp4-0-0" style="border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; direction: ltr; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant-east-asian: inherit; font-variant-numeric: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; position: relative; vertical-align: baseline;"><ul><li><span style="font-size: medium;"><span data-offset-key="bc9sb-0-0" style="border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; font-family: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Find the address of a shelter near you (</span><a class="_2qJYG blog-link-hashtag-color _1Qel0" href="https://www.homelessshelterdirectory.org/" rel="noopener" style="border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; color: #0f2453; font-family: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;" target="_blank"><span data-offset-key="bc9sb-1-0" style="border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; font-family: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span data-text="true" style="border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; font-family: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">link here</span></span></a><span data-offset-key="bc9sb-2-0" style="border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; font-family: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">).</span></span></li><li><span style="font-size: medium;"><span data-offset-key="2ivsv-0-0" style="border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; font-family: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Purchase some quality socks - in bulk - at Amazon.com (</span><a class="_2qJYG blog-link-hashtag-color _1Qel0" href="https://www.amazon.com/s?k=hanes+bulk+socks&ref=nb_sb_noss" rel="noopener" style="border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; color: #0f2453; font-family: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;" target="_blank"><span data-offset-key="2ivsv-1-0" style="border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; font-family: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span data-text="true" style="border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; font-family: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">link here</span></span></a><span data-offset-key="2ivsv-2-0" style="border: 0px; box-sizing: inherit; font-family: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">).</span></span></li><li><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium; font-style: inherit; white-space: pre-wrap;">Have them shipped from Amazon to your local shelter.</span></li></ul></div></div>David Musgrovehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12786678286223517197noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1372531765295112986.post-47999616291846760312023-03-14T06:43:00.000-07:002024-02-18T16:15:32.694-08:00Scott Morrison: The Magic of All That Is<p></p><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b>There is no path to here. </b></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b>There is no path to now. </b></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6XtK5rOxnhpgzxUZhfEdKDI1LOR-h_p5NZz5t-KNkfDfBR6Tb7XJkLrkQ5OBFFrGsvUrTEg92IdungTsSKwdP3ril4ZDDn17yk6IFKnVSM73FRdFkkAMWr0g_CWPsDMTrgumOjj8HGMA/s1600/path+to+now.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><span style="color: black;"><img border="0" data-original-height="625" data-original-width="500" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6XtK5rOxnhpgzxUZhfEdKDI1LOR-h_p5NZz5t-KNkfDfBR6Tb7XJkLrkQ5OBFFrGsvUrTEg92IdungTsSKwdP3ril4ZDDn17yk6IFKnVSM73FRdFkkAMWr0g_CWPsDMTrgumOjj8HGMA/s320/path+to+now.jpg" width="256" /></span></a></div><p></p><a name='more'></a><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>You are already, always, eternally, only here, now. </b><br /><br /><span>Now is the </span><b>only time</b><span> you can be awake.</span><br /><span>Now is the </span><b>only time</b><span> you can be free.</span><br /><span>Now is the </span><b>only time</b><span> you can care about anyone or anything.</span><br /><span>Now is the </span><b>only time</b><span> you can do or be anything.</span><br /><br /><b><span>You may now choose to fixate and obsess on motive and memory, fantasy, and commentary, with their associated rivers of emotions, some of which are very powerful.</span></b><br /><br /><span>You may be continually preoccupied, even addicted, to the endocrine cocktails they produce.</span><br /><span>You may </span><b>imagine </b><span>that whole process to be the past, the future, and even the present.</span><br /><span>You may </span><b>imagine</b><span> that to be your life or the world.</span><br /><br /><b><span>But it’s all just the play of memory, nothing more. </span></b><br /><br /><span>It is what you are doing with memory and fantasy, this very moment, nothing more. And sooner or later, you get sick of the monotony, the isolation, the boredom, the self-centered wretchedness of it all.</span><br /><br /><span>To be awake is to be </span><b>unconditionally open</b><span> to all that is.</span><br /><span>It is </span><b>to be completely</b><span> without prior opinion or assumption about anything.</span></span><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><span><br />To stay awake is </span><b>to surrender totally</b><span>, to unedited and unrestricted awareness, and to abandon the pretense of both the past and the future.</span><br /><br /><b><span>There is nowhere else to go. </span></b><br /><br /><span>Why not just be here with tenderness, generosity, and compassion? <br />Why not simply rest in the eternal magic of uncompromising attention and affection? <br />Why not fall unguardedly in love with the endless peace into which all things are born, your very own Self? </span></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><b><span>We are all the very Same One.<br />Why hold back?</span></b></span><b style="font-size: large;"><br /></b></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><b><span><br /></span></b></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><iframe frameborder="0" height="280" src="https://youtube.com/embed/hZeoyYOYgg4?si=ikz22Cwstl0SiHXd" style="background-image: url(https://i.ytimg.com/vi/hZeoyYOYgg4/hqdefault.jpg);" width="500"></iframe></div>David Musgrovehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12786678286223517197noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1372531765295112986.post-78641821220626699172023-03-05T22:20:00.001-08:002023-03-05T22:20:00.152-08:00Albert Camus: Suicide in Czechoslovakia<p><b><span style="font-size: medium;">According to the Greek myth, Sisyphus is condemned to roll a rock up to the top of a mountain, only to have the rock roll back down to the bottom every time he reaches the top. The gods were wise, <a href="https://www.insanedancing.com/search/label/Camus" target="_blank">Camus</a> suggests, in perceiving that an eternity of futile labor is a hideous punishment. </span><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></b></p><p><b style="font-size: large;">Spark notes: <a href="https://www.sparknotes.com/philosophy/sisyphus/section11/" target="_blank">The Myth of Sisyphus</a></b></p><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxZLbRc7E0LlDC89VA-WmeIjnL-WRs-ukV16rCAshPCSxhVIHbm8ckB4cDxeKbuse-SDN6BkERIpRx9A2c0vWc-1GuEEcSyABKvN1xn1vNB4JyzhAtEmfTcP76Ympue1TmfXuvfvKEFsY/s1600/sysyphus.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="308" data-original-width="620" height="197" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxZLbRc7E0LlDC89VA-WmeIjnL-WRs-ukV16rCAshPCSxhVIHbm8ckB4cDxeKbuse-SDN6BkERIpRx9A2c0vWc-1GuEEcSyABKvN1xn1vNB4JyzhAtEmfTcP76Ympue1TmfXuvfvKEFsY/w400-h197/sysyphus.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"></div><a name='more'></a><br /><blockquote class="tr_bq"><span style="font-size: medium;">I leave Sisyphus at the foot of the mountain! <span>One always finds one's burden again</span>. But <span>Sisyphus</span> teaches the higher fidelity that negates the gods and raises rocks.</span> </blockquote><blockquote class="tr_bq"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>He <span>concludes that all is well.</span> </b></span></blockquote><blockquote class="tr_bq"><span style="font-size: medium;">This universe henceforth without a master seems to him neither sterile nor futile. <span>Each atom</span> of that stone,<span> each mineral flake</span> of that night filled mountain, in itself <span>forms a world. </span><span>The struggle itself toward the heights is enough to fill a man's heart.</span></span> </blockquote><blockquote class="tr_bq"><b><span style="font-size: medium;"><span>One must imagine Sisyphus happy. </span></span> </b></blockquote><blockquote class="tr_bq"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b> Albert Camus; <u>The Myth of Sisyphus</u> (pdf <a href="https://www2.hawaii.edu/~freeman/courses/phil360/16.%20Myth%20of%20Sisyphus.pdf" target="_blank">here</a>)</b></span></blockquote><div><span style="font-size: medium;">In Albert Camus' book, <a href="https://archive.org/details/CamusAlbertTheStranger/mode/2up" target="_blank"><b>The Stranger</b></a> (aka The Outsider in Europe), after the main character's arrest for murder and while awaiting execution:</span></div><blockquote class="tr_bq"><span style="font-size: medium;">"...the whole problem was: how to kill time. After a while, however, once I’d learned the trick of remembering things, I never had a moment’s boredom. </span></blockquote><blockquote class="tr_bq"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span>Sometimes I would exercise my memory on my bedroom and, starting from a corner, make the round, noting every object I saw on the way. At first it was over in a minute or two. But each time I repeated the experience, it took a little longer.</span> </span></blockquote><blockquote class="tr_bq"><span style="font-size: medium;"> I made a point of visualizing <span>every piece of furniture</span>, and <span>each article </span>upon or in it, and then <span>every detail </span>of each article, and finally <span>the details of the details</span>, so to speak: <span>a tiny dent or incrustation, or a chipped edge, and the exact grain and color of the woodwork.</span><span> </span></span></blockquote><blockquote class="tr_bq"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span>At the same time I forced myself to keep my inventory in mind from start to finish, in the right order and omitting no item. With the result that, after a few weeks, I could spend hours merely in listing the objects in my bedroom.</span> </span></blockquote><blockquote class="tr_bq"><span style="font-size: medium;">I found that the more I thought, the more details, half-forgotten or malobserved, floated up from my memory. There seemed no end to them. </span></blockquote><blockquote class="tr_bq"><span style="font-size: medium;">So I learned that <span>even after a single day’s experience of the outside world a man could easily live a hundred years in prison. </span>He’d have laid up enough memories never to be bored. Obviously, in one way, this was a compensation.</span> </blockquote><blockquote class="tr_bq"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Then there was sleep.</b> </span></blockquote><blockquote class="tr_bq"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span>To begin with, I slept badly at night and never in the day. But gradually my nights became better, and I managed to doze off in the daytime as well. In fact, during the last months, I must have slept sixteen or eighteen hours out of the twenty-four.</span> </span></blockquote><blockquote class="tr_bq"><span style="font-size: medium;">So there remained only six hours to fill—with meals, relieving nature, my memories ... and the story of the Czech. </span></blockquote><blockquote class="tr_bq"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span>One day, when inspecting my straw mattress, I found a bit of newspaper stuck to its underside. The paper was yellow with age, almost transparent, but I could still make out the letter print. It was the story of a crime.</span> </span></blockquote><blockquote class="tr_bq"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span>The first part was missing, but I gathered that its scene was some village in Czechoslovakia. </span><span>One of the villagers had left his home to try his luck abroad. After twenty-five years, having made a fortune, he returned to his country with his wife and child.</span> </span></blockquote><blockquote class="tr_bq"><span style="font-size: medium;">Meanwhile his mother and sister had been running a small hotel in the village where he was born. He decided to give them a surprise and, leaving his wife and child in another inn, he went to stay at his mother’s place, booking a room under an assumed name. His mother and sister completely failed to recognize him. </span></blockquote><blockquote class="tr_bq"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span>At dinner that evening he showed them a large sum of money he had on him, and in the course of the night they slaughtered him with a hammer. After taking the money they flung the body into the river. Next morning his wife came and, without thinking, betrayed the guest’s identity.</span> </span></blockquote><blockquote class="tr_bq"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>His mother hanged herself. His sister threw herself into a well. </b></span></blockquote><blockquote class="tr_bq"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span>I must have read that story thousands of times. In one way it sounded most unlikely; in another, it was plausible enough. Anyhow, to my mind, the man was asking for trouble; one shouldn’t play fool tricks of that sort." </span> </span></blockquote><blockquote class="tr_bq"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>The Outsider (<a href="https://archive.org/details/CamusAlbertTheStranger/page/n49" target="_blank">pg 49-50</a>) </b></span></blockquote><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>Philosophy<br />Albert Camus </b></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='500' height='415' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dxbtCjf8iah-XAFFCGCKIRnkNFx8nn0eJvQeVl5ijCllKF1pU6IHhtjvppct2wl9PBpgEk3n3Rx-3YK557nqg' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>David Musgrovehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12786678286223517197noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1372531765295112986.post-51958895206325119972023-02-27T06:00:00.001-08:002024-02-14T19:01:24.390-08:00Falling Into the Eternal Moment<p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"> <b>The bad news is you are falling through the air; <br /></b><b>Nothing to hang on to, no parachute. <br /></b><b>The good news is there is no ground.</b></span></p><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: black; font-size: large;"><b>Chogyam Trungpa Rinpoche</b></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: black; font-size: large;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: black; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQAT708k0k38bZg23_CACxRtNE0lmc_GjI83tPDHdvdBY8_3WLjQLmI2wC3neUZDHnJQKGVgfmfoXJ8xbu_OIM26Mm4297NxlshrvhiN1gLrHPoVMuUjjTIf-uQr0F-eJkZ5aJs3Yr1SA/s1600/falling+through+the+air.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="503" data-original-width="500" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQAT708k0k38bZg23_CACxRtNE0lmc_GjI83tPDHdvdBY8_3WLjQLmI2wC3neUZDHnJQKGVgfmfoXJ8xbu_OIM26Mm4297NxlshrvhiN1gLrHPoVMuUjjTIf-uQr0F-eJkZ5aJs3Yr1SA/s400/falling+through+the+air.jpg" width="397" /></a></span></div><a name='more'></a><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"></span></p><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b>How can we remain present throughout our day, living </b><span style="font-weight: bold;">in the moment? </span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">We die to ourselves, moment by moment. We refuse to identify with our histories, our accumulated stories. We let each moment present itself anew. With no judgment based on our past stories and no projections of historical events into the future, we can fully embrace each moment '<b>with fresh eyes</b>.' One moment gives birth to the next, unclouded by ego. After all, the ego is simply our interpretation of and identification with our stories.<br /><br />Try it. See if it's true. For a moment, refuse to entertain any thought based on your history. Die to your past. Let your mind become blank. You'll find each moment presenting itself anew, with unlimited possibilities. One eternal moment, giving birth to itself over and over again. How radical.<br /><br />It can be intimidating. We lose a sense of who we think we are. We are not our stories; we are more than our plans. Our thoughts do not define us. Scary stuff but ripe with potential. If we can give ourselves unconditionally to the moment as it is, we experience an unparalleled present-moment awareness.<br /><br />One anonymous mystic Christian called this '<b>The Cloud of Unknowing' </b>(pdf<b> <a href="https://www.catholicspiritualdirection.org/cloudunknowing.pdf" target="_blank">here</a></b>). The apostle Paul described dying to himself daily. Jesus taught of taking no thought of the morrow, of being born anew, of becoming like children. Small children haven't become identified with their histories. Fighting one minute, they play the next as if nothing happened.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br />Lao Tse Tung wrote about the profound, fathomless '<b>Tao</b>' (Tao Te Ching <a href="https://terebess.hu/english/tao/gia.html#Kap01" target="_blank"><b>here</b></a>). Without clinging to our expectations, we sense '<i><b>mystery</b></i>.' The wonder is lost when viewed through preconceived notions, and we see '<b><i>things</i></b>.' We've become anchored, even bound, in our own minds. Buddhists talk of the '<i><b>void</b></i>'; Hindus of the Brahman. Some modern theologians call it "<i><b>The Ground of Our Being</b></i>."<br /><br />Whatever it's called, there is no sense of a separate self when we give ourselves unconditionally to the <b>Now</b>. <span>Without the anchor of our stories, each moment is born anew. </span>There are no limitations and no expectations. There is only <b>This</b> to be experienced<span> <b>Now</b></span>. We are indeed falling, with nothing to hold onto, no parachute. But all we are falling into is another newborn <b>Moment</b>, the eternal beginning of the <b>Now</b>.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>Let Go and Relax</b></span></div><div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>Alan Watts</b></span></div></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><iframe frameborder="0" height="270" src="https://youtube.com/embed/_4_124vBHlA?si=F78oLVJ4-4ZEjJBr" width="480"></iframe></div>David Musgrovehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12786678286223517197noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1372531765295112986.post-48393393202651737952023-02-20T06:00:00.010-08:002024-02-18T16:07:13.631-08:00Scott Morrison: It’s Completely Up To You<div style="text-align: left;"><div><b>Happiness, freedom, and peace don't lie elsewhere, at some other time.</b></div><div><b>It's up to you – this very instant – as you're looking at this screen.</b></div><div><br /></div></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisE65YgEsnrAlLBNGoIi1QOFg4-hCdTlnr2TUNP2s-HM3-Zy9Jz8jfg67NiQXyBpV_9XE9v7mBjNnHCXGdlN7XWLGMSsfzeNXMqfL-2UvRVJedEN_KUP7f9shmBvnGhHBJjp2hYXSebzg/s1600/this+instant.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: black;"><img border="0" data-original-height="352" data-original-width="564" height="199" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisE65YgEsnrAlLBNGoIi1QOFg4-hCdTlnr2TUNP2s-HM3-Zy9Jz8jfg67NiQXyBpV_9XE9v7mBjNnHCXGdlN7XWLGMSsfzeNXMqfL-2UvRVJedEN_KUP7f9shmBvnGhHBJjp2hYXSebzg/s320/this+instant.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></div><br /><a name='more'></a><br />All you have to do is give yourself, completely and absolutely, to the heart of <span>what is</span>.<br />All you have to do is give yourself, completely and absolutely, to <span>what you already are;</span><br />To what, at your very core, <span>you’ve been all along</span>.<br /><br />It makes no difference if you have heard or read or thought it ten thousand times. No matter, that you may have trivialized or betrayed it a hundred thousand times, thinking, '<span><i>I already know this</i>.'</span> All that counts is whether you are willing to truly let it in <span>this time</span>.<br /><br /><b><span>Awareness is everywhere.<br />Truth is everywhere.<br />Love is everywhere.</span></b><br /><br />All you have to do is allow yourself to be <span>unconditionally open</span> to it, without negotiation, distraction, or defense.<br /><br /><span><b>Everywhere and always. </b></span><div><span><b>On every breath. </b></span></div><div><span><b><span>On this breath.</span> </b></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div><span><b>That’s all. Nothing more.</b></span><br /><br /><span style="font-size: medium;"><b><span>Why not find out?</span> </b></span><br /></div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><iframe frameborder="0" height="280" src="https://youtube.com/embed/1wtY9N-_X9A?si=tnk3xwuCGJekD55U" width="500"></iframe></div>David Musgrovehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12786678286223517197noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1372531765295112986.post-70396372328142081372023-02-13T06:00:00.001-08:002023-02-13T06:00:00.149-08:00The Zen of Walt Whitman<p><span style="font-size: large;">Considered one of America's most influential poets, Walt Whitman aimed to transcend traditional epics and eschew normal aesthetic form to mirror the potential freedoms to be found in America.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><b>Read more: <a href="https://www.biography.com/writer/walt-whitman" target="_blank">Biography</a></b></span></p><div style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuLyqFQVDywpIcj_PHw6tIE1GQAARvrvd4z_ISAZrxUE6nNY4FBHpVtEOTFf46nmQPWUMjYtglv5nIv4UDi6flsS3LoOW8Ss2R8p404vXsuEiabrkxPfy6kGO79ntSR3rKXJk6-obK9uM/s2048/What%252Bwill%252Byour%252Bverse%252Bbe_.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1154" data-original-width="2048" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuLyqFQVDywpIcj_PHw6tIE1GQAARvrvd4z_ISAZrxUE6nNY4FBHpVtEOTFf46nmQPWUMjYtglv5nIv4UDi6flsS3LoOW8Ss2R8p404vXsuEiabrkxPfy6kGO79ntSR3rKXJk6-obK9uM/w400-h225/What%252Bwill%252Byour%252Bverse%252Bbe_.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><a name='more'></a><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><blockquote class="tr_bq" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><b><span>O Me! O Life!</span></b> </span></blockquote><blockquote class="tr_bq" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><b><span>Walt Whitman</span></b> </span></blockquote><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="font-size: large;">Questions</span></b></p><blockquote class="tr_bq"><br /><span style="font-size: medium;"><span>Oh me! Oh life! of</span><span style="font-weight: bold;"> </span><span><b><i>the questions</i></b></span><span style="font-weight: bold;"> </span><span>of these recurring</span><span style="font-weight: bold;">,</span> </span></blockquote><blockquote class="tr_bq"><span style="font-size: medium;">Of<b> <i>the endless trains</i> </b>of <span>the faithless</span>, of <i><b>cities fill’d</b></i> with <span>the foolish</span><b>,</b> </span></blockquote><blockquote class="tr_bq"><span style="font-size: medium;">Of myself<b> </b><span><b><i>forever reproaching</i> myself</b></span><b>, </b>(for <b><i>who more foolish</i></b> than I, and <i><b>who more faithless</b></i>?) </span></blockquote><blockquote class="tr_bq"><span style="font-size: medium;">Of<b> <i>eyes that </i></b><i style="font-weight: bold;">vainly crave</i><b> </b>the light, of the objects mean, of<b> </b><span><b><i>the struggle ever renew’d</i>,</b></span> </span></blockquote><blockquote class="tr_bq"><span style="font-size: medium;">Of the<i style="font-weight: bold;"> <span>poor results</span></i> of all, of the plodding and<b> </b><span style="font-weight: bold;"><i>sordid crowds</i></span><b> </b>I see around me, </span></blockquote><blockquote class="tr_bq"><span style="font-size: medium;">Of the<b> <span><i><span>empty and useless year</span>s</i></span> </b>of the rest, with the rest me intertwined, </span></blockquote><blockquote class="tr_bq"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b><span><i>The question</i></span>, </b>O me! so sad, recurring<b>—<span><i>What good</i></span> </b>amid these, O me, O life?</span></blockquote><p> </p><blockquote class="tr_bq"><span><b><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span><span style="font-size: large;"> Answer</span></b></span></blockquote><blockquote class="tr_bq"><span style="font-size: medium;">That <span style="font-weight: bold;"><i>you are here</i></span>—that<b> </b><span><b><i>life exists</i></b></span> and <span>identity,</span><span> </span></span></blockquote><blockquote class="tr_bq"><span style="font-size: medium;">That<b> </b><span><i style="font-weight: bold;">the powerful play goes on</i><b>, </b>and <i style="font-weight: bold;">you may contribute a verse</i><b>.</b></span> </span></blockquote><div style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="font-size: x-large;">O me! O Life! <br /> Zen Pencils </span></b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="style-scope ytd-video-owner-renderer" id="owner-container" style="background: rgb(255, 255, 255); border: 0px; display: var(--layout-horizontal_-_display); flex-direction: var(--layout-horizontal_-_flex-direction); font-family: Roboto, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"><div style="text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="280" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/76365ARjPdU" width="500"></iframe></div></div>David Musgrovehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12786678286223517197noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1372531765295112986.post-69869314981757853882023-02-06T06:00:00.005-08:002023-02-06T19:10:27.237-08:00Scott Morrison: Life Without Purpose<p><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Perhaps the most challenging thing for most of us to understand is simple, and if you examine it directly, the most obvious fact is that there is no such thing as a solid, separate, stable entity that I can call <span>"myself."</span></b></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTh6WOpU5PlxybTRQZke0G6jwEqe1g_u9oCE7hfeOVqmvmbrM6ZWJN0Ennfr7b711ywCIAeWAf9yU8wBzfzZlgLow1g4WyQVMi-9XVgm0JbWIW4K_NgvuhMJrWVNT-vhdayQrjfeUl3EQ/s1600/who+am+i.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: black; font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="183" data-original-width="275" height="256" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTh6WOpU5PlxybTRQZke0G6jwEqe1g_u9oCE7hfeOVqmvmbrM6ZWJN0Ennfr7b711ywCIAeWAf9yU8wBzfzZlgLow1g4WyQVMi-9XVgm0JbWIW4K_NgvuhMJrWVNT-vhdayQrjfeUl3EQ/w400-h256/who+am+i.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></div><span><a name='more'></a></span><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<span><div><span style="font-size: medium;">Nouns (labels like writer, teacher, doctor, lawyer, man, woman), </span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">proper nouns (my name, your name), </span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">personal pronouns (I, me, mine, myself)...</span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">Coupled with mental images of your face or body at various ages, </span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">morphed together with multiple role models' faces or bodies, </span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">and anchored by muscular contractions and other sensations...</span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">Work collectively to create a fictitious mental version</span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">of 'me' and 'my life.'</span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">It may be convincing on the surface, and there may be the security and comfort of habitual perception. Still, if you investigate carefully and directly, you will find nothing but insubstantial memory and fantasy edited by motive and attitude. </span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><b><span style="font-size: medium;">Nowhere in any of that is there a real, verifiable "you" or "me."</span></b></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">Before agreeing or disagreeing, </span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">before proceeding any further, </span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">take a few moments to check this out for yourself in earnest. </span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">Otherwise, the process of truth, </span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">the discovery of what is real, </span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">is trivialized and reduced to true believerism, </span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">or worse, </span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">a subtle contempt before investigation.</span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><b><span style="font-size: medium;">If you assume, "I already know that," no honest investigation or discovery can occur.</span></b></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><b><span style="font-size: x-large;">(Pause)</span></b></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">So if you have the boldness, </span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">the courage and integrity to check it out for yourself, </span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">you discover that everything you think about yourself </span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">(as well as other people, the world, life, and the universe) </span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">is neither accurate nor reliable.</span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><b><span style="font-size: medium;">It is only the play of fragmented memory, and as such, it is minimal. </span></b></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">It is shockingly dishonest and appallingly narrow, </span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">shaped by what we like and dislike, </span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">what we want and don't want. </span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">It is hard to escape the obvious conclusion that all of the self-images and concepts we so take for granted have no reality.</span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><b><span style="font-size: medium;">So, now what? If there is no separate you and no separate me, then what is left?</span></b></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: large;"><b>Everything is left. Look around. </b></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">In the absence of mental and emotional editing, </span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">there is nothing but awareness and everything that arises in it. </span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><span>Everything you can see, hear, smell, taste, feel,</span><span> think, and otherwise experience. </span></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">There is nothing but this, </span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">this whole, infinite, </span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">everything. </span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><b><span style="font-size: large;">So what is your purpose in all of this? </span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-size: large;">What is life?</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-size: large;">That, clearly, is up to you.</span></b></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">For most, it is a life of habitual self-deception, gossip, pettiness, cruelty, self-centeredness, self-loathing, fear, worry, stress, anger, sorrow, and loneliness, sometimes whitewashed with ideological optimism, or further darkened with ego defense mechanisms of cynicism and tragic storylines that merely perpetuate, complicate, and deepen the torment. </span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">For you, and I, and anyone who has the willingness to truly explore, however, any number of other possibilities exist at this very moment.</span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><b><span style="font-size: medium;">What if none of it ultimately makes any difference whatsoever? </span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-size: medium;">What if there were no inherent purpose to life? </span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-size: medium;">What if it were entirely up to you? </span></b></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">A game (basketball, tennis, soccer, football, golf)</span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">or a dance performance (ballet, modern, African Jazz, Brazilian) </span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">or a theatrical presentation ultimately doesn't make any difference. </span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">Yet think of the players, musicians, dancers, or performers who have moved you and inspired you in the deepest, most beautiful, and subtle ways: It didn't really make any difference, yet they gave themselves, without reservation, to the game or the dance or the performance.</span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">What if you were to let your life be a work of art and creativity, an expression of beauty, passion, tenderness, and wonder, an unconditional flow of affection and compassion and kindness, a sharing of joy, happiness, and peace, a perfect reflection of understanding and wisdom? Isn't that what you love about your physical, artistic, and spiritual heroes and heroines? </span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><b><span style="font-size: large;">What if it were entirely up to you, this very instant? </span></b></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><b><span style="font-size: medium;">Suddenly, it makes all the difference in the world.</span></b></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><b><a href="https://scotmorrison.wordpress.com/2007/08/03/life-without-purpose/" target="_blank"><span style="font-size: medium;">Scott Morrison teachings</span></a></b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>The False Idea of Who You Are</b></span></div><div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>Alan Watts</b></span></div></div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><iframe frameborder="0" height="280" src="https://youtube.com/embed/4yaBJVfyy00" width="500"></iframe></div></span>David Musgrovehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12786678286223517197noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1372531765295112986.post-19726357314195737422023-01-30T06:00:00.000-08:002024-03-05T14:33:58.692-08:00Zen: The Way of Tao<p><span>Zen Buddhism is a way and view of life that does not belong to any formal categories of modern western thought. It is not a religion or philosophy; it is not a psychology or science. It is an example of what is known in India and China as a '<i><b>way of liberation</b></i>.' </span></p><p>The Way of Zen by Alan Watts (pdf <a href="https://www.beyourspirit.com/resources/The-Way-of-Zen.pdf">here</a>)</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXzxA-auRbVsvWB_A-rpzckJK9GEd93mdg9ow3IyvAQJtJkm7qjDvKgnqE9cWtHOBnslvHc95LlQcaDSveREc1w0nqcBUvf1NeWq4Fhejkxd2YcfyEfNz9MUiyVjFg2vsdqpSnJpi9Tdxqz2aTptF3nRjnwnmc1d9T3uh-McFNM-CIEeTtDyBblDTi/s2667/buddhist.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1500" data-original-width="2667" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXzxA-auRbVsvWB_A-rpzckJK9GEd93mdg9ow3IyvAQJtJkm7qjDvKgnqE9cWtHOBnslvHc95LlQcaDSveREc1w0nqcBUvf1NeWq4Fhejkxd2YcfyEfNz9MUiyVjFg2vsdqpSnJpi9Tdxqz2aTptF3nRjnwnmc1d9T3uh-McFNM-CIEeTtDyBblDTi/w400-h225/buddhist.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><span><a name='more'></a></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p><span style="font-size: large;"><b>Buddhism</b></span></p><p>The teaching of Siddhartha Gautama (the Buddha) was a way of liberation. It had no other object than experiencing the end of suffering. There are no Buddhist creation stories. Buddhists don't have doctrines they '<b><i>believe</i></b>.' They have instructions for a practice that alleviates our pains. The Buddha taught that dissatisfaction comes from '<b><i>attaching</i></b>' ourselves to things. These can be objects, people, or ideas.</p><p>Buddhist texts are not inspired nor inerrant scripture. They teach that everything is always in a state of flux. We aren't disappointed if we don't grasp or try to control the natural order. Realize that people, circumstances, and ideas change. "<b><i>Let go</i></b>" of past situations and confront the new reality.</p><p>The Buddha was Hindu. He believed in reincarnation and gods. But the gods were in the same predicament as humans. They, too, needed to learn how to transcend suffering. They didn't advance anyone on their path to freedom.</p><p>The Buddha refused to speculate on purely philosophical questions. He remained silent when asked about the nature of the gods and the universe because the subject wasn't about freedom from suffering. He compared a man who asked these questions to one who, when shot with an arrow, refused help until he knew who made it, what materials, and where they came from.</p><p>He would die awaiting his answer.</p><p><b><span style="font-size: large;">Zen</span></b></p><p>Buddhism absorbed Taoism and became Chan when it traveled from India to China. From there, the 'dharma' (teaching) moved to Vietnam, Korea, and Japan, becoming Zen. Taoism proper has never become an organized religion. In their present state, Zen and Taoism are the same practice.</p><p>Taoist terms can translate Zen Buddhist ideas. I've never read any of Buddha's original teachings. They are tedious and repetitive. Instead, I read the Tao Te Ching, a book of eighty-one chapters. It was written by Lao Tse Tung (rendered Lao-Tze).</p><p><b><span style="font-size: large;">Tao</span></b></p><p>The principle of Tao (pronounced d-o-w) is the idea of 'the way things are.' It's the dynamic force behind everything. When we '<b><i>abide in the Tao</i></b>,' we move with natural changes, like water or clouds. They follow the Tao; go with the flow. This means not forcing our will or trying to control outcomes. We may offer a path yielding better results, but we can't force anyone to take it. We react, moment by moment, to whatever situation presents itself. The following Zen story sums it up:</p><p></p><blockquote><p><b><i>A student asked the old Zen master what he should do.</i></b></p><p><b><i>The teacher replied, "have you eaten your rice?"</i></b></p><p><b><i>"Yes," the younger man answered.</i></b></p><p><b><i>"Then wash your bowl."</i></b></p></blockquote><p>This is the Zen attitude.</p><p><b><span style="font-size: large;">Wu Wei</span></b></p><p>The Taoist life philosophy is Wu Wei. It means '<b><i>doing without doing</i></b>.' This isn't a contradiction. In practice, it's '<b><i>not forcing</i></b>'; taking action that isn't contrived, expecting nothing in return. It's '<b><i>not standing in your light</i></b>.' You act, but not in an artificial manner that blocks your own goals. Gently nudge in the direction you want to steer things and stay unattached to the outcome.</p><p><b><span style="font-size: large;">Te</span></b></p><p>The quality of Te is '<i><b>skill at living</b></i>' or '<i><b>virtue</b></i>.' This isn't a self-conscience plan to act. It's the opposite of Church Lady stuff. But it also involves not going out of your way to ensure you don't get credit for a good deed. In that case, too, you are planning on how to stay anonymous to '<b><i>create</i></b>' virtue.</p><p>Te defines the actions of the person who picks up trash from the road because he's there, and it's there. It's someone who sees a twenty-dollar bill fall out of a busy woman's purse. They pick it up, drop it in her bag, and walk away unnoticed.</p><p><b><span style="font-size: large;">Tzu-Jan</span></b></p><p>The word '<b><i>tsu-zan</i></b>' carries the idea of '<b><i>by itself so</i></b>.' It's natural. We can't explain it, like the quality of energy in physics. We cannot define it, but we can work with it. It's allowing natural reactions to work in your favor. The best example of using this in a real-life situation came from my job at the pet store.</p><p>When I started, the manager was the top salesman. He told me puppies do not sell from cages. You have to get them into people's hands. I protested that customers wouldn't take the dog from me. He gave me this advice. "<b><i>David, don't ask. Bring out the puppy, hold it in front of the customer and let go. The dog will never hit the ground.</i></b>" I became a puppy salesman, and no puppy was ever dropped.</p><p>I acted purposefully, but the customers reacted to the quality of tzu-zan.</p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="font-size: x-large;">Tao Te Ching Chapter 1 </span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><iframe frameborder="0" height="280" src="https://youtube.com/embed/fvM7AWxk1Ng" width="500"></iframe></p><p><br /></p>David Musgrovehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12786678286223517197noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1372531765295112986.post-18151513765408280952023-01-23T04:00:00.001-08:002023-01-23T04:00:00.141-08:00Zen Story: Too Much Tea<b><span style="font-size: medium;">A university professor went to visit a famous Zen master. While the master quietly served tea, the professor talked about Zen.</span></b><div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVSYLI63afRa5RO70e8Gc3FyzeqOgNbmeAT1uLVx-HaOZ-6CeuQatP7lCoVkNVDAgnSH0qftqMhu6n0-K9M5nk4ehuqPAcEM3VC4hPzfLi7fLi4cEWs9JhC22v_UO23g8yDIDiMNush7g/s1899/tea+master.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1500" data-original-width="1899" height="316" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVSYLI63afRa5RO70e8Gc3FyzeqOgNbmeAT1uLVx-HaOZ-6CeuQatP7lCoVkNVDAgnSH0qftqMhu6n0-K9M5nk4ehuqPAcEM3VC4hPzfLi7fLi4cEWs9JhC22v_UO23g8yDIDiMNush7g/w400-h316/tea+master.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><span><a name='more'></a></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><blockquote><span style="font-size: medium;">The master poured the visitor’s cup to the brim, and then kept pouring. The professor watched the overflowing cup until he could no longer restrain himself.</span></blockquote><blockquote><span style="font-size: medium;"><span>“<b><i>It’s overfull! No more will go in!</i></b>”</span>the professor blurted out.</span></blockquote><blockquote><span style="font-size: medium;"><span>“<i><b>You are like this cup,</b></i>”</span>the master replied.<span>"<i><b>How can I show you Zen unless you first empty your cup.</b></i></span>"</span></blockquote><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"></span><span style="font-size: large;">"In a beginner’s mind, we have many possibilities, but in an expert mind, there is not much possibility.” <br /><br />Shunryu Suzuki, author of Zen Mind, Beginner’s Mind (pdf <a href="http://www.arvindguptatoys.com/arvindgupta/zenmind.pdf"><b>here</b></a>).</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-weight: 700;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><div>Zen Mind, Beginner's Mind </div><div>Shunryu Suzuki</div></span></span></div><p style="text-align: center;"><iframe frameborder="0" height="280" src="https://youtube.com/embed/TXUJqYPFptU" width="500"></iframe> </p></div></div>David Musgrovehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12786678286223517197noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1372531765295112986.post-69005150128277831482023-01-18T21:30:00.002-08:002023-01-26T06:23:21.665-08:00Ending Our Stories: Training the Monkey <p></p><div style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="font-size: large;">"All humanity's problems stem from</span></b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="font-size: large;">man's inability to sit quietly in a room alone."</span></b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="font-size: large;">Blaise Pascal, Pensées</span></b></div><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8jpjfJH30Ui7txrXAdGE7JxYcSj0iUOwnuUPS3O84OTqrTeUtjtSlIK27dQxyey4XfYlBNEffYfmGV04_xbGPmDIA68sDiohyx2X_DhSZEG443BEVZmrlLPhLOFmyz-U1N4BAwwk8zxw/s2048/monkey-mind.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1265" data-original-width="2048" height="248" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8jpjfJH30Ui7txrXAdGE7JxYcSj0iUOwnuUPS3O84OTqrTeUtjtSlIK27dQxyey4XfYlBNEffYfmGV04_xbGPmDIA68sDiohyx2X_DhSZEG443BEVZmrlLPhLOFmyz-U1N4BAwwk8zxw/w400-h248/monkey-mind.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><a name='more'></a><div style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></b></div><b><span style="font-size: x-large;">Monkey Mind</span></b><div><br /></div><div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">We have a '<i><b>monkey mind</b></i>.' Literally, although advanced beyond the ape family. But in Buddhist philosophy, Monkey Mind means something else. <br /><br />We think we control our thoughts. We hold others accountable for them. We identify ourselves and others with them. But the truth is much more unsettling, and it is this: </span><span style="font-size: large;">We don't '</span><i style="font-size: large;"><b>think our thoughts</b></i><span style="font-size: large;">.' Our thoughts '</span><b style="font-size: large;"><i>think us</i></b><span style="font-size: large;">.' </span></div><div><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: large;">They arise from nowhere and convince us they have some purpose. But Buddhist philosophy sees through this and treats '</span><b style="font-size: large;"><i>thoughts</i></b><span style="font-size: large;">' as "</span><b style="font-size: large;"><i>monkeys;</i></b><span style="font-size: large;">' coming from nowhere, swinging wildly from vine to vine - </span><b style="font-size: large;">now here; now there</b><span style="font-size: large;"> - and carrying us along with them.</span></div><br /><span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>Not a Doctrine</b></span><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><span style="font-size: medium;">The Buddha taught no doctrine. He taught experience. Later, Buddhists '<i><b>dumbed down</b></i>' his teachings to '<i><b>pronouncements,</b></i>' but the Buddha was clear on this. Do not believe in anything simply because you have heard it.<br /></span><blockquote class="tr_bq"><span style="font-size: medium;">Do not believe in anything simply because it is spoken and rumored by many. </span> </blockquote><blockquote class="tr_bq"><span style="font-size: medium;">Do not believe in anything simply because it is found written in your religious books. </span> </blockquote><blockquote class="tr_bq"><span style="font-size: medium;">Do not believe in anything merely on the authority of your teachers and elders. </span> </blockquote><blockquote class="tr_bq"><span style="font-size: medium;">Do not believe in traditions because they have been handed down for many generations. </span></blockquote><blockquote class="tr_bq"><span style="font-size: medium;">But after observation and analysis, when you find that anything agrees with reason and is conducive to the good and benefit of one and all, then accept it and live up to it.' </span></blockquote><blockquote class="tr_bq"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Buddha quotes (Hindu Prince Gautama Siddharta, the founder of Buddhism, 563-483 B.C.)</b></span></blockquote><b><span style="font-size: x-large;"> <span>Observation and Analysis</span></span></b><br /><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;">Don't believe me. Try it. Set your phone alarm for five minutes. Try - and if you're new to meditation, try is the correct word - to <span><i><b>not</b></i></span> think for five minutes. If you concentrate only on your breath, noticing the feelings as you breathe in and the sensations as you breathe out, you soon find this.<br /><br />Without your prompting - entirely out of nowhere - a chain of thoughts will begin to create a story on its own. And you'll find yourself <span>'<i><b>grabbing that vine</b></i>'</span> and joining that monkey's story. This is normal. Notice it, bring yourself back to your breath, and try again. You will get better.</span><br /><br /><div style="background: rgb(255, 255, 255); border: 0px; font-family: Roboto, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 2.4rem; margin: 0px; max-height: 4.8rem; overflow: hidden; padding: 0px; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><b><span>Headspace | Meditation <br /></span><span>Training the Monkey </span></b></span></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe frameborder="0" height="280" src="https://youtube.com/embed/qxyVCjp48S4" width="500"></iframe></div></div>David Musgrovehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12786678286223517197noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1372531765295112986.post-50071392757698747192023-01-15T21:30:00.001-08:002024-03-05T19:10:17.316-08:00Worry: In 100 Words or Less<p></p><div style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="font-size: medium;">When I really worry about something,</span></b></div><div style="font-weight: bold; text-align: center;"><b><span style="font-size: medium;">I don’t just fool around.</span></b></div><span style="font-size: medium;"><div style="font-weight: bold; text-align: center;"><b><span style="font-size: medium;">I even have to go to the bathroom</span></b></div><div style="font-weight: bold; text-align: center;"><b><span style="font-size: medium;">when I worry about something. </span></b></div><div style="font-weight: bold; text-align: center;"><b><span style="font-size: medium;">Only, I don’t go. I’m too worried to go. </span></b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>I don’t want to interrupt my worrying to go. </b><br /><b><a href="https://simontechnology.org/ourpages/auto/2013/1/23/53406450/Catcher%20in%20the%20Rye%20Text.pdf" target="_blank">The Catcher in the Rye</a>. Holden Caulfield in Chapter 6.</b></span></div></span><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhA3WJIp5CcwHsM93gY_5GVrSPGgsEZO6gJowViD4BXvYeuPoVpS-37sQcxk_ATgIeyUT4KQYMyLukEEx0gX64N3qNxOGaCpbcNTvGvHadpE-p7DX1r7cm02H3Wz4IP4VV6T3Q5YcDlcWA/s1600/worry.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="639" data-original-width="500" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhA3WJIp5CcwHsM93gY_5GVrSPGgsEZO6gJowViD4BXvYeuPoVpS-37sQcxk_ATgIeyUT4KQYMyLukEEx0gX64N3qNxOGaCpbcNTvGvHadpE-p7DX1r7cm02H3Wz4IP4VV6T3Q5YcDlcWA/s400/worry.jpg" width="312" /></a></div><a name='more'></a><br /><blockquote class="tr_bq"><span><b>“There’s nothing you can do about it.”</b></span> </blockquote><blockquote class="tr_bq"><span><b></b></span><span><b>“That’s why I’m worrying.”</b></span> </blockquote><blockquote class="tr_bq"><span><b></b></span><span><b>“Why?”</b></span> </blockquote><blockquote class="tr_bq"><span><b></b></span><span><b>“Don’t you care? It doesn’t mean enough for you to even worry!”</b></span> </blockquote><blockquote class="tr_bq"><span><b></b></span><span><b>“How does worrying help?”</b></span> </blockquote><blockquote class="tr_bq"><span><b></b></span><span><b>“You don’t get it. At least I’m doing something!”</b></span> </blockquote><blockquote class="tr_bq"><span><b></b></span><span><b>“Hmmm…Oookay. ”</b></span></blockquote><p style="text-align: center;"><iframe frameborder="0" height="280" src="https://youtube.com/embed/s2AUI-7GRJc" width="500"></iframe> </p>David Musgrovehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12786678286223517197noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1372531765295112986.post-27021079640957898142023-01-12T06:00:00.003-08:002023-01-13T16:34:44.316-08:00Scott Morrison: Happiness On This Breath<p></p><div style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="font-size: large;">Earnestness is the key.</span></b></div><span style="font-size: large;"><div style="text-align: center;"><b>Unconditional willingness.</b></div></span><p></p><div style="text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8TTPnnQ9b68rvFfu3ODpRJ_Tlj5jUZVFEC1C1cranNA-FUrif79morh2AygEO3F01DAX4PHiIP87p-gME3frbej14XmE0OtuLDjfvwiu2V8ANMSpmdlviGfxw_8ywHk_VGTq8MRH3axs/s2048/breath.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1366" data-original-width="2048" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8TTPnnQ9b68rvFfu3ODpRJ_Tlj5jUZVFEC1C1cranNA-FUrif79morh2AygEO3F01DAX4PHiIP87p-gME3frbej14XmE0OtuLDjfvwiu2V8ANMSpmdlviGfxw_8ywHk_VGTq8MRH3axs/w400-h266/breath.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><span><a name='more'></a></span><span style="font-weight: 700;"><br /></span></div><span style="font-size: large;">All you have to do is pay attention, <br />be honest, and follow through.</span><div><span style="font-size: large;"><br />Truth is discovered when you simply refuse <br />to lie to yourself anymore.</span></div><div><span style="font-size: large;"><br />Just pay attention and be kind, unconditionally kind, <br /><span>on this breath</span> alone.<br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"><span>Forget about the future. <br /><span>Just this breath.</span><br /><br />Very simple. <br />Just be kind.<br /><br /><span><b>Only on this breath.</b></span><br /><br /><a href="https://scotmorrison.wordpress.com/2007/08/03/happiness-on-this-breath/" target="_blank"><b>Scott Morrison teachings</b></a></span><br /><br /><br /></span><div style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="font-size: large;">The Path to Happiness </span></b></div><div style="text-align: center;"></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="font-size: large;">Guided Meditation</span></b></div><b><br /></b><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe frameborder="0" height="280" src="https://youtube.com/embed/YefMpOWi4lU" width="500"></iframe></div><b><br /></b></div>David Musgrovehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12786678286223517197noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1372531765295112986.post-73837459577790221202023-01-09T06:00:00.005-08:002023-01-18T14:16:40.299-08:00Zen Story: Focus<p><b><span style="font-size: large;">After winning several archery contests, the young, boastful champion challenged a Zen master. </span></b></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIi6Rk-YXJXe5JZP_WPHSDLRI_Q19XORumAZdxWTEf2GPE44PpYmJyWWl-Z9u_2vWH4e-Nd1S7-16xnknLdLrDUcaTHkwftkL8_mlL_sIjFcj6NLLoef-nUXp6MJPMOiwrUyqiB2ei2OQ/s1600/Photo+by+Zoltan+Tasi+on+Unsplash.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="color: black;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1050" data-original-width="1600" height="261" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIi6Rk-YXJXe5JZP_WPHSDLRI_Q19XORumAZdxWTEf2GPE44PpYmJyWWl-Z9u_2vWH4e-Nd1S7-16xnknLdLrDUcaTHkwftkL8_mlL_sIjFcj6NLLoef-nUXp6MJPMOiwrUyqiB2ei2OQ/w400-h261/Photo+by+Zoltan+Tasi+on+Unsplash.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption"><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><span><a name='more'></a></span><p style="text-align: center;"><b> "When you fully focus your mind,<br />you make others attracted to you."<br />Toba Beta, Betelgeuse Incident</b></p><blockquote class="tr_bq"><blockquote class="tr_bq"><span style="font-size: medium;">The youth demonstrated technical skill by hitting a distant bull's eye on his first try. Then he split that arrow with his second shot. "<b><i>There</i></b>," he said to the old man, "<b><i>see if you can match that!</i></b>"</span></blockquote><blockquote class="tr_bq"><span style="font-size: medium;">Undisturbed, he motioned for the young archer to follow him up the mountain. Curious, the champion followed him until they reached a deep chasm. A flimsy and shaky log spanned it. </span></blockquote><blockquote class="tr_bq"><span style="font-size: medium;">Stepping out onto the middle of the wobbly bridge, the old master picked out a faraway tree. He drew his bow and fired a clean, direct hit. "<b><i>Now it is your turn</i></b>," he said as he stepped back onto the safe ground. </span></blockquote><blockquote class="tr_bq"><span style="font-size: medium;">Staring with terror into the bottomless abyss, the young man could not step out onto the log. </span></blockquote><blockquote class="tr_bq"><span style="font-size: medium;">"<b><i>You have much skill with your bow,</i></b>" the master said, "<b><i>but you have little skill with the mind that lets loose the shot.</i></b>" </span> </blockquote></blockquote><blockquote class="tr_bq"><blockquote class="tr_bq"><a href="http://truecenterpublishing.com/zenstory/concentrate.html" target="_blank"><span style="color: black; font-size: medium;"><b>Zen Stories to Tell your Neighbors</b></span></a></blockquote></blockquote>David Musgrovehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12786678286223517197noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1372531765295112986.post-57043521843941033662023-01-05T06:00:00.001-08:002024-02-19T07:37:44.749-08:00Stoicism: An Introvert's Philosophy?<div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b>An introvert prefers to spend time alone to recharge. They may appear shy, but that's not always the case.</b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgs7_5E7aGMowz-1BX4vfyYv5WbV9jWBtNwUMWwHmVc-O19e6o1FtK2nVynuf80TMcS8IYBKmlG1NfYGwxXiN04UKxmkSsCI_-yliM2AevDHnrwUkRBmtl2etDSLfLLSMWd35sxWb-TtOw/s2048/woman-sitting-alone.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1153" data-original-width="2048" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgs7_5E7aGMowz-1BX4vfyYv5WbV9jWBtNwUMWwHmVc-O19e6o1FtK2nVynuf80TMcS8IYBKmlG1NfYGwxXiN04UKxmkSsCI_-yliM2AevDHnrwUkRBmtl2etDSLfLLSMWd35sxWb-TtOw/w400-h225/woman-sitting-alone.jpg" width="400" /></a></div></span></div><div><span><a name='more'></a></span><p></p><blockquote><span style="font-size: medium;">Being among groups of friends, family and even strangers can be stimulating and rewarding. But small talk and pointless conversations draws down an introvert's energy. Eventually, they withdraw and spend time alone to re-energize. Introverts enjoy time alone with no distractions in order to recharge their inner strength. </span></blockquote><p></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="font-size: x-large;">Stoicism<br />An Introvert's Philosophy? </span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b><a href="http://classics.mit.edu/Antoninus/meditations.html" target="_blank">The Meditations</a><br />B</b><b>y Marcus Aurelius</b></span></p><p></p><p style="text-align: center;"><iframe frameborder="0" height="260" src="https://youtube.com/embed/5ERNClS-a50" width="400"></iframe></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="font-size: x-large;">Zen Story<br />Is That So?</span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_EKw4Gj5HGUfUySeBNze_X82x0uHitn2yQhEhzhXBotFmWdNmmTjRw81GvfdCKHWCZtTCyFsNLmlgjZ5buX5uyW8Bbham93SKUgaRnKQAeKv7HLoaBR_N0zTQptx47jXLy7SCdIhHgw8/s1280/Stocism+vs+Buddhism.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="1280" height="270" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_EKw4Gj5HGUfUySeBNze_X82x0uHitn2yQhEhzhXBotFmWdNmmTjRw81GvfdCKHWCZtTCyFsNLmlgjZ5buX5uyW8Bbham93SKUgaRnKQAeKv7HLoaBR_N0zTQptx47jXLy7SCdIhHgw8/w400-h225/Stocism+vs+Buddhism.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-size: medium;">A beautiful girl in the village was pregnant. Her angry parents demanded to know who the father was. At first, resistant to confess, the anxious and embarrassed girl finally pointed to Hakuin, the Zen master whom everyone previously revered for living such a pure life. When the outraged parents confronted Hakuin with their daughter's accusation, he simply replied:</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-size: medium;">"<i><b>Is that so?</b></i>"</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-size: medium;">When the child was born, the parents brought it to the Hakuin, who now was viewed as a pariah by the whole village. They demanded that he take care of the child since it was his responsibility. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b><i><br /></i></b></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b><i>"Is that so?</i></b>" </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Hakuin calmly accepted the child.</b></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-size: medium;">He cared for the child for many months until the daughter could no longer withstand the lie she had told. She confessed that the real father was a young man in the village she had tried to protect. The parents immediately went to Hakuin to see if he would return the baby. With profuse apologies, they explained what had happened. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-size: medium;">"<b><i>Is that so?</i></b>"</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Hakuin handed them the child.</b></span></div></div><br /><p></p><p></p></div><div><b><a href="http://truecenterpublishing.com/zenstory/isthatso.html" target="_blank">Zen Stories to Tell Your Neighbors</a></b></div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><div><b><span style="font-size: x-large;">Stoicism</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-size: x-large;">The Power Of Indifference</span></b></div><div><br /></div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><iframe frameborder="0" height="270" src="https://youtube.com/embed/qRM5VRIO_TU" width="480"></iframe></div>David Musgrovehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12786678286223517197noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1372531765295112986.post-19747882457118139722023-01-02T06:00:00.006-08:002024-02-21T18:31:04.292-08:00The Whole Teaching: Explained<p><b><span style="font-size: medium;">In the early 1990s, I discovered the internet. At the time, a website hosted some questions and answers from a Christian/Buddhist teacher named Scott Morrison. He died. His <a href="https://scotmorrison.wordpress.com/2007/08/03/why-this-blog/" target="_blank">writings</a> have nearly vanished from the internet.</span></b></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhl4pfEJGVzg9tZ8iFVe4PZ7BYa_W_2sEfpSqqIS90danv97lLSOHDQd5cUFJR60Ucp6y1kHzWFW5_dWNc8Zs1ihtKXmBvcaGlJhPBcQNfbu1v7fveQKVwElWrHSXuTNLK-IqrgpMblxek/s1614/No+past.+No+future..jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1500" data-original-width="1614" height="371" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhl4pfEJGVzg9tZ8iFVe4PZ7BYa_W_2sEfpSqqIS90danv97lLSOHDQd5cUFJR60Ucp6y1kHzWFW5_dWNc8Zs1ihtKXmBvcaGlJhPBcQNfbu1v7fveQKVwElWrHSXuTNLK-IqrgpMblxek/w400-h371/No+past.+No+future..jpg" width="400" /></a></div><span><a name='more'></a></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>He wrote a </b><a href="https://scotmorrison.wordpress.com/2007/08/03/the-whole-teaching/" target="_blank"><b>short piece</b></a><b> he called "The Whole Teaching" from his book "</b><a href="https://www.amazon.com/Open-Innocent-Gentle-Passionate-Not-Knowing/dp/1882496000" style="font-weight: bold;" target="_blank">Open and Innocent</a><b>: The Gentle Passionate Art of Not Knowing" that sums up what he taught.</b></span></p><p></p><div style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="font-size: large;">The Whole Teaching</span></b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="font-size: large;">By Scott Morrison </span></b></div><p></p><p></p><div style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="font-size: large;">No past. No future.</span></b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="font-size: large;">Open mind. Open heart.</span></b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="font-size: large;">Complete attention. No reservations.</span></b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="font-size: large;">That's all.</span></b></div><p><b><span style="font-size: x-large;">No past. </span></b></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">When you really think about it, the past doesn't exist. We've had experiences, but we are in the present when we remember them. And the things we recall were in that present then.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Where's the past? </b></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Further, when we think back, we filter memories through our life experiences and understanding. And this filter is continually changing. All of the past is a mental picture, continuously edited in the viewer of our new experiences.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Can such a '<i>subjective</i>' past be '<i>real</i>'? </b></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Advances in '<b><i>brain activity imaging</i></b>' suggest the first time we pull up a memory, our brain retrieves this information deep where it's stored. But on each subsequent occasion, mental activity stops and summons the recollection from the last time we remembered this event.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>How sure is that past now?</b></span></p><p><span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>No future. </b></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">There is only hope and anxiety in the present about events that have not yet occurred. We bring all our present baggage and project those constantly changing thoughts of the past onto future events. Our mental picture of the future continuously changes through our new experiences and our last interpretation of past experiences. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Where is the future if we have no stable, non-changing past to project forward?</b></span></p><p><b><span style="font-size: x-large;">Open mind. Open heart. </span></b></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Zen Master Shunryu Suzuki wrote in "Zen Mind, Beginner's Mind" (pdf <b><a href="http://www2.hawaii.edu/~freeman/courses/phil302/26..%20Zen%20Mind%20Beginner%27s%20Mind.pdf" target="_blank">here</a></b>):</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><i><b>"In the beginner's mind, there are many possibilities.<br />In the expert's mind, there are few." </b></i></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">When we bring our limited understanding to any situation, we force the new experience to fit our view. We close off any actual ability to freshly evaluate things. We've made our judgment before we even begin.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Having an open mind simply means allowing, without preconceived judgments, things to unfold. With an open mind, our hearts can be accessible. We have a calm presence in every situation, no judgment, and no preconceived ideas. We neither prefer nor reject any outcome. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>Complete attention. No reservations. </b></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">When we have put away the past and quit projecting our experiences onto the future, we allow ourselves space to take in the present as it unfolds. We can become completely attentive, not jumping ahead of events or judging things through experience filters. If we can learn this, we can give ourselves to the moment entirely and without reservation.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>That's all.</b></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span>Nothing to add, nothing to take away. <br /></span><span>All that Is simply Is. <br />Everything else is commentary and judgment. </span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span><b>Minus our opinions, all is well.</b></span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span><b><br /></b></span></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span><span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>The Only Now There Is <br /></b></span></span><span style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>Rupert Spira</b></span></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><br /></p><p style="text-align: center;"><iframe frameborder="0" height="280" src="https://youtube.com/embed/lJinjLPg9uw" width="500"></iframe></p>David Musgrovehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12786678286223517197noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1372531765295112986.post-10931050641482033672022-12-23T04:00:00.006-08:002024-02-19T07:33:51.236-08:00Everything Passes: Nothing is for Keeps<span style="font-size: large;"><b>On December 23, 2010, I found myself outside, in the cold, holding a candle in front of a picture of my life.</b></span><div><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglIpp8DyibmJoOkLFRi8RJdzefa-fShoKpZsIma7PqU6qghnaCNeOPvE8GF9hZweFFKSeWmfILZWMJhtOT6_NA-FIrjXh2MQjsXky4HUFBVNLxf44xsOp3pGDRezr_-YKK94H-QFO-zRc/s1600/brauce+jenn+eddie+david.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="580" data-original-width="500" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglIpp8DyibmJoOkLFRi8RJdzefa-fShoKpZsIma7PqU6qghnaCNeOPvE8GF9hZweFFKSeWmfILZWMJhtOT6_NA-FIrjXh2MQjsXky4HUFBVNLxf44xsOp3pGDRezr_-YKK94H-QFO-zRc/w343-h400/brauce+jenn+eddie+david.jpg" width="343" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px;">Florida Today photo<br />Compassionate Friends 2010</td></tr></tbody></table><span><a name='more'></a></span><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;">The photo was of my unorthodox family. I'm on the left. In the middle is my daughter, Jennifer, holding her son - my grandson - Little Eddie. Behind her is Bruce, my life partner of nineteen years. We owned our home together, where we raised my daughter, Jenn, and now we were part of my grandson's life. We had future plans. We were playing for keeps. </span></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqB458KFQ-PzWctyw_D_ImTtX4rJLtRbA-BHa_3vQeYo_SIwRpoxNuE-zdCdrS-JBcYbzNrhn4EW3lfBDIIBgpkxRrkk4ouU2am7qYjPb64dJWHD-t1xpy3gm2IM41khDdw1crFXHNsxM/s1600/everything+passes.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="191" data-original-width="265" height="286" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqB458KFQ-PzWctyw_D_ImTtX4rJLtRbA-BHa_3vQeYo_SIwRpoxNuE-zdCdrS-JBcYbzNrhn4EW3lfBDIIBgpkxRrkk4ouU2am7qYjPb64dJWHD-t1xpy3gm2IM41khDdw1crFXHNsxM/s400/everything+passes.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;">On Thanksgiving 2009, Bruce broke his collarbone picking up Little Eddie. We wouldn't know until January 2010 that it failed due to metastatic lung cancer. The cancer cells were eating his skeleton. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;">He was diagnosed as terminal at 51, with no chance of long-term survival. He chose to die in our home, in hospice. We celebrated our 19th anniversary on Valentine's Day. On February 26, 2010, Bruce died in my arms while I stroked his head, whispering in his ear things would be OK and that I loved him. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;"><span>Within days of Bruce's death, it became apparent that Jenn, my daughter, was having severe drug problems. Things were really rough for her. On September 20, 2010, Jenn died of an Oxycontin overdose in an Orlando hotel. </span><span>I didn't do anything for Christmas. </span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;">Instead, I celebrated the end of 2010 on New Year's Eve. My parents, my sister, my son and his fiance, their son, and Jenn's son, Little Eddie, all celebrated New Year with me. We had a holiday tree, gift exchanges, and fireworks to ring in the New Year. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;">Little did I know the previous January 2010, I would be celebrating the New Year without Jenn and Bruce. And on December 23, 2010, that cold night with the candle illuminating my life past, I couldn't know this year, on December 22, I would celebrate the Winter Solstice with Little Eddie and Big Eddie, his father. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;">We had dinner with all the fixings, exchanged gifts, and played our new video games late into the night. It was the first full dinner I had cooked since Jenn died. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;">Everything does pass. Nothing really is for keeps. And that is precisely the way we have to live. </span></div></div><div></div></div>David Musgrovehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12786678286223517197noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1372531765295112986.post-49551066617844571282021-04-27T23:09:00.001-07:002024-02-14T18:52:54.079-08:00Embrace Your Inner Psycopath<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><b><span style="font-size: medium;">
Inside of us is an inner psychopath waiting for the right moment to explode. All of us can remember such moments. You step into a crowded elevator. The eyes of another passenger meet your own and flick away. The doors close. </span></b><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>You find you yourself enveloped in the stale mouthwash of social convention.</b></span><b><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></b></div><div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="color: black; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfpJ73swIwSEhhFhpMh-AJ7-s6CxGRTmyAMy60RPr6aN9F9W4ftxZJ_CyHZWBbk-9BHSWme0KmUP4jEhxq-sMiayQHLbQBsqD6IvsK66FOsOrkYFDcJZMD7fmhyTzIuaLFCqFluCjNhNk/s1600/silence_of_the_lambs.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="619" data-original-width="1100" height="216" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfpJ73swIwSEhhFhpMh-AJ7-s6CxGRTmyAMy60RPr6aN9F9W4ftxZJ_CyHZWBbk-9BHSWme0KmUP4jEhxq-sMiayQHLbQBsqD6IvsK66FOsOrkYFDcJZMD7fmhyTzIuaLFCqFluCjNhNk/w400-h216/silence_of_the_lambs.jpg" width="400" /></a></span></div><blockquote class="tr_bq" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<a name='more'></a></blockquote>
<span style="font-size: medium;">Each person is silent and rigid, facing forward, intensely watching the panel of illuminated numbers as they flicker from floor to floor. As the silence thickens, you are draw to a secret part of yourself that itches for relief, the swells with the desire for rupture: you inner psychopath. </span>
<span style="font-size: medium;">
When you step into your inner psychopath, you step into a new dimension of personal freedom. Turning your face to your fellow passengers, you say, </span>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="font-size: medium;"><span>'<b><i>We never talk. Don't you think it's time we had a talk. So listen up. Yo, losers, look at me and listen the f*ck up. All right? Do you f*ckin' get it or what? </i></b></span><b><i> </i></b></span></blockquote>
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<span style="font-size: medium;"><b><i><span></span><span>Can't you see what's happening here? Make some human f*ckin' contact for chrissake. </span> </i></b></span></blockquote>
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<span style="font-size: medium;"><b><i><span></span><span>You. Yeah, you. Say hello, real nice. Now you. Nice and easy, buddy. No fast moves or it's sweet bye-bye. </span> </i></b></span></blockquote>
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<span style="font-size: medium;"><b><i><span></span><span>That's good, real good. We're not f*ckin' robots, you know! We're free self realizing, social organisms. Okay! So let's start acting like it, g*ddammit. </span></i></b><span><b><i>All right. I feel better, don't you. I know you do.</i></b>' </span></span></blockquote><span style="font-size: medium;">By sharing with others in this way, you honor the many voices held within you. By staying open to your inner psychopath, you keep the rest of your personality on it's toes. </span>
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<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b><a href="https://www.amazon.com/Daily-Afflictions-Connected-Everything-Universe/dp/0393322815" target="_blank">Daily Afflictions</a>: The Agony of Being Connected to Everything in the Universe</b></span></span></blockquote><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="font-size: x-large;"> Flash Mob Mashup<br />"We Will Rock You" </span></b></p>
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David Musgrovehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12786678286223517197noreply@blogger.com0