Blog Archives

What Lenses Do You Use?

What lenses do you use to view the World?

Are they scratched and dirty, seeing only the ugly?

Or are they clear to view the big picture,

Including those who serve humanity?

Illness, poverty and injustice plague our planet.

Beauty, kindness and service abound

The rapid downward spiral of negativity leads to the sewer

Lifting up the broken takes co-operation and strength

Your choice whether to curl up in a fear-based fetal position

Or strive to improve the Earth with a loving and kind heart


Running from the chasing voices

Running from the angst inside

Facing fear the greatest demon

Facing those that rise within


Run to meet the challenge head on

Fear is worse than what is real

Anxious moments, needless worry

Cast it off and shed the skin


The floorboards snap as the footsteps get closer.  I dare not breathe.  My eight year old frame is tucked behind battleship gray work pants, the kind Mom dries on stretchers.  Dad’s only suit, protected by the dry cleaner’s plastic bag, is pushed to one side.  I’d be in big trouble if I wrinkled it. 

Doors open.  Doors close.  I’m hunted.  My mouth feels like it’s stuck with peanut butter..  I’d run, but they’d catch me before I got to the stairs.  We live on the second floor because the first floor pays more rent. I hate it because the girl downstairs gets to play on the big porch and I don’t.  But, I get even. When Mom and Dad aren’t home I roller skate in the house, over their heads. 

They just searched the bathroom closet on the other side of the wall.   When the door opened, I heard water running.  I think this one’s next.  Good thing this old house doesn’t have a light in the closet. My heart hurts. I hope they can’t hear it pounding.

They’re heading for my hiding place.  I think I’m going to throw up.  My legs ache, but I pull them closer. I wish I were invisible. 

The door creaks open.  Daylight floods the closet.  I close my eyes and hold my breath. “Go Away,”  I shout in my head.

A claw-like hand grabs my knee.  My eyes pop open.

“There you are.  You almost made us late for church,”  my mother scolds.

“Do I have to go?”  I whine.

“Get in the tub. There’s no more time to horse around.”