The Caring Catalyst

Who Cares - What Matters

THE FEAR OF FEAR

By Leave a Comment

Famous people never suffer like THE REST OF US, do they?

Here’s the Real of REAL:
IF YOU HAVE A PULSE, A HEARTBEAT, INHALE/EXHALE
you experience every emotion, some more fiercely than others.

E. V. E. R. Y. O. N. E.
in their own way
DEALS (self-medicates) in our own ways.        .        .

“If people saw Frank Sinatra in his dressing room prior to a performance, they would reconsider their belief that he was destined for the stage. When the stage lights were about to come up, I’ve seen lions in cages at the Beverly Hills Zoo that were more composed than Mr. S.

The room’s door was secured. Mr. S would pace back and forth while keeping his hands in his pockets. He would occasionally hold a tumbler of Jack Daniel’s, but other times he would just clench his hands till they were white. I would say to the employees, “”There, Mr. S is playing ‘Caged Lion.'”” The sole distinction was that this lion was more terrified of the cage being completely open and the absence of outside cheers.

One close friend of mine once told me quite plainly, “”Frank is not afraid of the audience booing.”” He fears silence from the crowd. Yes, booing is simple; you can sing louder or retort with a curse. But you can’t overcome that emptiness by remaining silent.

Therefore, until Mr. S took the stage, the bottle of Jack Daniel’s had little chance of surviving. However, Mr. S was standing there, looking dapper and grinning as though he had never experienced fear, when the lights turned on. The miracle was that. However, I was aware that a man was asking himself, “”Am I still Frank Sinatra today?”” behind that closed door.”” – George Jacobs

A     L     L

F. E. A. R.

By Leave a Comment

What’s your greatest FEAR?
What’s your greatest F. E. A. R.? (F alse E xperiences A ppearing R eal)
Is it the same Question?
Is it the same Answer?

There comes a day when you realize that the fear never really goes away,
that if you really want something,
you have to be willing to do it afraid.

And maybe this is the only way you ever get to discover your fullest potential.
Maybe you just have to dive right in and face the thing that scares you the most.

Because in the end,
it’s not the rejections and so-called failures that will haunt you.
It will be your own potential left unexplored.

So maybe you don’t need to wait until you overcome your fears to take the first step forward.

Maybe you just need to know there’s something more important than fear. Something greater.
Something worth fighting for.

And maybe overcoming your fears is the least important part of your story anyway.

Maybe what matters is that you’re scared but still determined.
Shaky but still standing.
Afraid but still willing to try.

– Zanna Keithley
Artist: Skategirl

What’s your greatest FEAR?
What’s your greatest F. E. A. R.? (F alse E xperiences A ppearing R eal)

False experiences appearing real or is it Forget everything and run or is it Face everything and rise?  
WHAT SAY YOU…or are you to afraid to say?
Hmmmmmmmmmm.          .          .
Is it the same Question?
Is it the same Answer?
Your answer is what you SHOW
not what you SAY!
Psssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssst:
When it comes to
FIGHT OR FLIGHT
no special shoes are needed.    .   .
JUST WALK
(it’ll eliminate being paralyzed or worse: DOING NOTHING)

SUPERNATURAL PRESENCE

By Leave a Comment

IT IS A SUPER POWER
and we all possess it
but don’t always access it
P     R     E     S     E     N     C     E
Some call it:
HOLDING SPACE
and I’ve blogged on it before
but as a striving to always be better
CARING CATALYST
I can’t learn enough about it
or dare to believe
I’ve always provided it
to my utmost ability
.          .          .and then this article from
TIME MAGAZINE
found me:

The New, Strange Science

Behind Felt Presences

Chris Dale—Getty Images
IDEAS
BY BEN ALDERSON-DAY
Alderson-Day is an Associate Professor in Psychology and a Fellow of the Wolfson Research Institute for Health and Wellbeing at Durham University. A specialist in atypical cognition and mental health, his work spans cognitive neuroscience, psychiatry, philosophy, and child development. He is the author of Presence

Many of us have had this uncanny feeling before: Entering a silent room, walking through a dark night, or waking from sleep—and suddenly, it’s there. A sense that someone is with us, without any sight or sound. A feeling of a presence.

It’s a sensation that occupied the forefathers of psychology for a long time, including William James. Writing in the Varieties of Religious Experience, James wrote of “a feeling of objective presence, a perception of what we may call ‘something there,’ more deep and more general than any of the special and particular ‘senses.’” It was an experience he recognized as key to many a spiritual occurrence, but also one with an often sinister and foreboding air. A friend of James’ recounted a night-time encounter of his own that he experienced as a student: “I did not recognize it by any ordinary sense and yet there was a horribly unpleasant ‘sensation’ connected with it. It stirred something more at the roots of my being than any ordinary perception.”

If you’ve had this experience and you’ve tried to explain it to someone, you may be met with a blank look, or even skepticism. It sounds like something out of a ghost story, and indeed, William James was a kind of 19th-century ghostbuster. He was a key member of the Society of Psychical Research, which was set up to examine the truth behind telepathy, spiritualism, and apparitions of the night.

But what we now know is that James’s friend was correct. This isn’t a ghost story, or even a sixth sense, but something at the roots of our being. Contemporary neurology, cognitive neuroscience, and psychiatry shows us that such presences truly belong to us because they are linked to how our bodies and minds give us a sense of self.

The first piece of evidence comes from case studies of people affected by epilepsy, brain tumors, and other major changes to brain functioning. For instance, in a 2006 study, a 41-year-old man, whom the study called “PH,” presented to a hospital clinic complaining of fatigue, dizziness, and seizures. The one night in hospital, he awoke to feel he had split into three parts: his left side, which felt normal; his right side, which felt somehow detached; and then off to his right, another man who wasn’t him. This figure mirrored his body position, and when he tried to look at him, he looked away; PH felt as if “they shared the same soul.” Beyond the man stood a woman, again mirroring PH, and beyond that, some girls; he called them his “family.” After a few days the image of these figures receded, but the feeling of their presence remained.

PH’s experiences were the product of an aggressive tumor in the left hemisphere of his brain, which affected two areas in particular: the posterior insula and the temporoparietal junction. The former is a key brain area for processing internal information about our bodies (like heart rate or gut feelings), while the latter is involved in integrating our senses to make a map of where we are in space. Damage to those areas would have changed PH’s internal model for where he felt his body was. So when he was visited by this presence, in a way it did share his soul. It was where he should have been (or his brain thought he was).

The next piece of evidence comes from cognitive neuroscience, and a team led by neurologist Olaf Blanke in Geneva. Since 2014, they have used a robot to induce feelings of presence in healthy individuals and clinical disorders, such as Parkinson’s disease. The robot works to disrupt your sensory expectations: Whenever we make a movement, our brains are thought to make a set of predictions about what will happen to our senses. Go to clap your hands, and your brain is ready for a new sight and sound, all at the right time. But if you mess with that, strange things start to happen; things don’t feel like “us” and instead start to feel like they belong to someone else. With the presence robot, you make random pressing movements into the air in front of you, while the robot presses you in the back at exactly the same time. In sync, it almost feels like it’s you pressing your own back—you brain takes the cues from your own movements, and the sensations on your back, and comes to the conclusion that the only person in this process is you. But when the touches start to then go out of sync—slowing and dragging, not quite hitting where they should—participants suddenly feel like a person, not just a robot, is controlling the touches from behind. Lots of people with Parkinson’s have feelings of presence as part of the condition, and this makes them particularly susceptible to the phantom touches of the robot.

Lastly, we’re now beginning to recognize that feelings of presence are a missing piece in the story of psychosis. Not long after William James was writing, figures like Karl Jaspers were describing examples of presence in some of the first textbooks of psychiatry. But the trail ran cold for a number of years—until very recently. There’s now evidence that people who hear voices (or have auditory hallucinations) also describe high rates of felt presence—literally voices than can be there without speaking. And grassroots work such as Rethink Psychosis, led by people with experience of psychosis themselves, are calling for more recognition and understanding of the phenomenon through projects like “Psychosis Outside the Box,” a collection of the more neglected and unusual aspects of psychosis.

The strangeness of presences makes them all too easy to miss in a time-pressured doctor’s appointment, but for many people, it may be the figure behind voices or visions that matters the most. If you’ve ever had your own personal space violated, or dreaded to go into certain places because of who might be there, you will know how much the presence of another can affect you, even without a word being uttered. Thinking about presences, and not just voices, poses a whole new set of challenges for our scientific models of psychosis and how we deliver psychotherapy. It’s even part of some of the newer psychotherapeutic approaches to psychosis, such as AVATAR therapy.

The through-line in all these examples is the self. In Western societies, we are used to the idea of a unitary, consistent self—the core of us that never changes. But psychologists and neuroscientists know that the self is something that can be disrupted in multiple ways; it’s less of a one-man band, and more of an ensemble piece. In clinical disorders, case reports, or through ingenious experiments, we can observed how radically the self can altered to produce a presence.

It goes beyond that, too. Given the right conditions, all of us could have this is experience, whether as a result of grief, exhaustion, trauma, or even sleep problems. In this way, the new science of presence isn’t about a mysterious “other,” after all. It’s a way of learning about ourselves.
W  H  O  A,  Right
And yet the not-so-big-surprise
WE ARE LIKE OCEANS.          .          .
THERE IS SO MUCH WE KNOW ABOUT EACH OTHER
AND SO VERY, VERY MUCH MORE THAT WE DON’T.     .     .
with the biggest question of
JUST HOW WILLING ARE YOU TO FIND OUT?
Psssssssssssssssssssssssssssst:
FIND  OUT

HEAR WHAT ANOTHER HEARS

By 2 Comments

I have shared this video several times for various presentations I have given
I have shared this video on a Monday morning blog post before, too
I have to have its message KNOWN to me again and to be reminded just how much I need to HEAR WHAT ANOTHER HEAR’S.          .          .

“Could a greater miracle take place than for us to look through each others’ eyes for an instant?” – Henry David Thoreau

Every day, every moment, is an opportunity to let go of what no longer serves us and let it die…

And to embrace what brings out the best in ourselves and others.

This video, “If We Could See Inside Each Others’ Hearts” is an opportunity to do that.

It is a profound look at life, in 4 minutes. This one will have you welling up with tears as the camera wanders and shows the inner lives of people around us as they do their daily tasks. Most of it is set in a hospital, where there is so much worry, sadness, some joy, bad news, good news, no news, anxiety, fear — just like our own lives.     .     .

Magnified

We’ve all been there. We’ve all experienced at least one of these people’s lives, and that’s what brings the message of this video so close to home.

We ALL have our stories. Others have theirs. But we never really know, we don’t fully connect, because most of us walk around keeping most of our thoughts and feelings to ourselves.

S       T       I       L       L

If we could see inside other peoples’ hearts, this is what we’d see.  .  .
Psssssssssssssssssssssst:
Look Again
(c     l     o     s     e     r)

IN A WORD

By Leave a Comment

SOUNDS LIKE GREEK TO ME, Right?
The World can humble you
in such a way
that what you know
what you know that you know
what you bet your life that you know
YOU DON’T KNOW AT ALL
. . .kind of sums up
L I F E
and most definitely
2 0 2 0. . .
I F
you could sum up this tumultuous year
or just these past topsy-turvy
2 3 1 days
and our
COVID19, hurricane, civil unrest, wildfires, politically tense
e x p e r i e n c e s
in one word
what would it be:
frustrating
disappointing
deadly
hurtful
devastating
tragic
hopeless
shocking
unbelievable
or the Greek word:
A C E D I A

The Lost Greek Word That Explains Our Pandemic Emotions
just may show much more. . .

The boredom, fear, uncertainty, and exhaustion we feel has a name. . .
and hopefully an even deeper
M E A N I N G

I first heard about this word when I read an article by Jonathan L Lecher from THE CONVERSATION. Literally, when we’re in the middle of yet another wave of Covid19 and having some communities in rebooted lockdown conditions and movement restricted everywhere else, no one is posting pictures of their sourdough. Zoom cocktail parties have lost their novelty; Netflix can only release so many new series. The news seems worse every day, yet we compulsively scroll through it.

We get distracted by social media, yet have a pile of books unread. We keep meaning to go outside but somehow never find the time. We’re bored, listless, afraid, and uncertain.

What is this feeling?

John Cassian, a monk and theologian, wrote in the early 5th century about an ancient Greek emotion called acedia. A mind “seized” by this emotion is “horrified at where he is, disgusted with his room. . . . It does not allow him to stay still in his cell or to devote any effort to reading.” He feels:

such bodily listlessness and yawning hunger as though he were worn by a long journey or a prolonged fast. . . . Next he glances about and sighs that no one is coming to see him. Constantly in and out of his cell, he looks at the sun as if it were too slow in setting.

This sounds eerily familiar. Yet, the name that so aptly describes our current state was lost to time and translation.

Noonday demon

Etymologically, acedia joins the negative prefix a- to the Greek noun kēdos, which means “care, concern, or grief.” It sounds like apathy, but Cassian’s description shows that acedia is much more daunting and complex than that.

Cassian and other early Christians called acedia “the noonday demon,” and sometimes described it as a “train of thought.” But they did not think it affected city dwellers or even monks in communities.

Rather, acedia arose directly out the spatial and social constrictions that a solitary monastic life necessitates. These conditions generate a strange combination of listlessness, undirected anxiety, and inability to concentrate. Together these make up the paradoxical emotion of acedia.

Evagrius of Pontus included acedia among the eight trains of thought that needed to be overcome by devout Christians. Among these, acedia was considered the most insidious. It attacked only after monks had conquered the sins of gluttony, fornication, avarice, sadness, anger, vainglory, and pride.

Cassian, a student of Evagrius, translated the list of sins into Latin. A later 6th century Latin edit gave us the seven deadly sins. In this list, acedia was subsumed into “sloth,” a word we now associate with laziness.

Acedia appears throughout monastic and other literature of the Middle Ages. It was a key part of the emotional vocabulary of the Byzantine Empire, and can be found in all sorts of lists of “passions” (or emotions) in medical literature and lexicons, as well as theological treatises and sermons.

It first appeared in English in print in 1607 to describe a state of spiritual listlessness. But it’s barely used today.

Making like monks

As clinical psychology has reclassified emotions and mental states, terms like “melancholy” can sound archaic and moralizing.

Emotional expressions, norms, and scripts change over time and vary between cultures. They mark out constellations of bodily sensations, patterns of thought, and perceived social causes or effects.

Since these constellations are culturally or socially specific, as societies change, so do the emotions in their repertoire. With the decline of theological moralizing, not to mention monastic influence, acedia has largely disappeared from secular vocabularies.

Now, the pandemic and governmental responses to it create social conditions that approximate those of desert monks. No demons, perhaps, but social media offers a barrage of bad (or misleading) news.

Social distancing limits physical contact. Lockdown constricts physical space and movement. Working from home or having lost work entirely both upend routines and habits. In these conditions, perhaps it’s time to bring back the term.

More than a label

Reviving the language of acedia is important to our experience in two ways.

First, it distinguishes the complex of emotions brought on by enforced isolation, constant uncertainty, and the barrage of bad news from clinical terms like “depression” or “anxiety.”

Saying, “I’m feeling acedia” could legitimize feelings of listlessness and anxiety as valid emotions in our current context without inducing guilt that others have things worse.

Second, and more importantly, the feelings associated with physical isolation are exacerbated by emotional isolation—that terrible sense that this thing I feel is mine alone. When an experience can be named, it can be communicated and even shared.

Learning to express new or previously unrecognized constellations of feelings, sensations, and thoughts builds an emotional repertoire, which assists in emotional regulation. Naming and expressing experiences allows us to claim some agency in dealing with them.

As we, like Cassian’s desert monks, struggle through our own “long, dark teatime of the soul,” we can name this experience, which is now part of our emotional repertoire.

N O W
the biggest question of all. . .
DOES NAMING WHAT HAS BEEN NAMELESS, MAKE A DIFFERENCE?

WHO WOULD EVER IMAGINE
that the cure
for a Word
you most likely never heard of
3 minutes ago
was
Y O U
y e s:



Shadow-Thrower

By Leave a Comment

Unknown

S c a r e d ?

E   v   e   r ?

I remember I didn’t sleep so well as a little kid,

hmmmmmmmmmmm,

s  t  i  l  l       d  o  n ‘ t.        .       .

When I laid in bed at night,

l        a        t        e,

when everyone else and the World

was sleeping, i

t was then I’d see them:

S         H         A         D         O         W         S

Now we all don’t know what

T  H  E      S  H  A  D  O  W      K  N  O  W  S,

do we?

.          .          .but we do know

M        O        R        E !

We know that the SHADOW

can never hurt us,

in fact,

can only really ever bother,

bug,

pester us

when we not so much allow it entrance,

but actually be the Key-Keeper to our imagination.       .       .

I   d i d.        .        .

I made it real easy for the Shadow.        .        .

I not only gave it a key,

I took the door off it’s hinges.         .         .

Every night.           .          .

until that night;

That night was different.          .          .

That night after everyone was sound asleep

and I lay there awake,

I saw THE SHADOW again.          .          .

G                  U                L                  P

We were staring each other down;

I could swear I saw it move,

taunting me,

making fun of me and I knew right then,

very clearly I had three solid choices:

1) I      c o u l d      S c r e a m
2) I      c o u l d      R u n
3) I       c o u l d      t r y      t o      m a k e      i t      t o      m y      p a r e n t s            r  o o m.       .       .

.           .           .and then,

 the     L  i  g  h  t  i  n  g      hit!

Literally,

the Lightning from a Summer-middle-of-the-night-storm,

lit up the room

and every time it did it

T     H     E         S    H    A   D    O   W

would disappear.        .        .

Yet,

O  P  T  I  O  N      N  U  M  B  E  R     4

was the best one of all:

Shadow’s      actually     need      light      to      make      a      Shadow

and  LIGHT  is what obliterates them.        .        .

I became a SHADOW-THROWER that night,

and every night since.          .          .

.        .        .Amazing how little the Shadow knows

.         .         .or ever did.         .         .

Even more Amazing,

how much we do and will.           .           .

If________________.     .     .

Pay  A T T E N T I O N,  Class:

Bring your Light

to Some One’s Shadow–

It ceases to exist.           .          .

Now,

T H A T ‘ S     P O W E R

and  it’s

Y   O   U   R ‘  S

to yield.      .      .

or worse yet,

n               o               t.          .          .

N i g h t

R I N G S

By Leave a Comment

R           I          N           G           S

Are       you       a       good      Buddhist ?

I am not.          .         .

as good as one I imagined;

I know the basics:

PAIN is caused by ATTACHMENT

PEACE: D E T A C H M E N T

Just about everyday since October 31, 1994

when I began working with Hospice and

DEATH & DYING

I’ve learned to die a little bit every day;

Embrace it;

When I go to bed and asleep (very quickly) each night

I have a huge sense of GRATITUDE

and an
OK-NESS

with the possibility I might not awaken

but not quite yet
(IF SHE DOESN’T AWAKE)

(Most likely from the childhood prayer my parents prayed and taught me every night:
NOW   I   LAY   ME   DOWN   TO   SLEEP
I   PRAY   THE   LORD   MY   SOUL   TO   KEEP
IF   I   SHOULD   DIE   BEFORE   I   WAKE
I   PRAY   THE   LORD   MY   SOUL   TO   TAKE

I practice DEATH every day
(but apparently never.     .     .ever enough)

because I know, I know that I know, bet my Life that I know
(but don’t always ACT like I know)

that ONE DAY I will die.        .       .
(that she will die)

Now that’s one thing, isn’t it.         .         .

but when it’s not
YOUR  LIFE

but ANOTHER’S;

ONE    WHO    YOU    DEEPLY    LOVE 

more desperately than your next breath.         .       .

well, now, that’s an whole other
MATTER.          .         .

W             O             R             D             S

much like these

but maybe laced with a little more effectiveness
sincerity 

have been said by many of us;

I’ve guided hundred’s in reciting/repeating them;

been at the bedsides of lifetime lovers who whisper them again to each other;

presided over the funeral of ONES.       .       .

who now very painfully have become TWOS (again)

“FOR      BETTER      FOR      WORSE
FOR      RICHER      FOR      POORER
IN      SICKNESS      AND      IN      HEALTH
TO      LOVE      AND      TO      CHERISH.          .         .”

Each time during the Summer for the past three years I’ve reflected;

E            X           P            E             R           I          E          N          C          E          D   

The other side of the coin of

THE BETTER
THE RICHER
THE HEALTH
and a much deeper
TO LOVE AND TO CHERISH

The other side of the coin is dirty
indistinguishable

The OTHER SIDE OF THE SHEETS

are rough;

much too ruffled/unsmooth/scratchy/P A I N F U L

When I saw her lying on the floor that early Sunday morning

seizing uncontrollably

watching my son

rolling her on her side

and calling 911 at the same time;

when I saw her limp and lifeless in the back of an ambulance;

lying on a gurney in the emergency room;

looking in her eyes and for the first time seeing them

NOT RECOGNIZING me
or any semblance of the language we’d seamlessly share with a mere glance;

it made me see a shore without her waves
a life without her life.          .           .

When I held her wedding ring in my hand

while she was getting an MRI

and a series of endless seemingly endless

eternally long tests

that were screaming to me

“There’s no mass; no bleed, no sign of stroke but we still don’t know why she had five Grand Mal seizure.         .       .”

I remember these words, along with a Niagara Falls of furious, fearful thoughts:

HER WEDDING RING
feels so very much
different 
foreign 
alien
small
in my hand
than it ever felt
on her hand
as I held it
squeezed it
without her holding
squeezing mine
back

I wrote a series of poems
thoughts
f e a r s
that have remained
in an old notebook
unshared
with
THE OTHER SIDE OF THE SHEETS

We have all kinds of
r     i     n     g     s

Ring around the Rosie
Ring around the Collar
Ring around the Moon
Ring of my phone
Ring my neck

rivals not

The    Ring    on    My    Finger

which would have me WRUNG OUT

without it

bare beyond on naked.          .         .

Y         O          U  ?

The T I M E

By 4 Comments

(This was originally posted on Friday, August 28, 2015, but because of some unexplained technical problems, it didn’t post as universal as expected; hence the reposting of this article)

IMG_2435

THE  TIME. . .

Do you have it?

Do you possess. . .o w n  it?

Was there just one, specific, distinct time you actually did. . .

When  T I M E

in reality. . .

S     T     O     P     P     E     D  ?

Monday

8/10/15

3:15:54 p.m.

was my

T       H       A       T

moment. . .

my point in time. . . .

When you find yourself on the other side of the sheets, you not only find them rougher, unsoothing, cutting, severely less than anything that could be considered comfortable. . .

THESE ARE THE  KNOWNS

from  THAT  side of the sheets.

It’s the

U          N          K          N          O          W          N          S

that makes the other side of the sheets so

g r a v e l l y

It had just been some 34 hours since Erin’s last of five seizures and there was a lot of disorientation, a vastness of confusion from her to me to the medical staff compassionately attempting to get an

exactness

on her condition. . .trying to isolate the

WHY, THE HOW COME, THE WHAT-FOR 

of it all.

Blood tests were taken; EEG was being studied; CT Scan was being evaluated; a not-so-good-MRI without Contrast freshly finished and now, literally in the middle of a Spinal Tap,

standing behind a thin curtain where I could hear the conversations of the medical staff, Erin and my daughter Zoey who was permitted to be present for The Tap to keep her mom still. . .

I felt the light hand pressure of another one of Erin’s Doctor’s on my shoulder.

When I turned around, she motioned me to come into the hall way

and in the few steps away from the curtain, The Procedure,

it took me to follow her to the hallway

my heart was a war drum in my chest. . .

a beat I can’t remember ever duplicated

because I knew in that very moment

at that VERY TIME

my life. . .

our life. . .

was potentially about the change

for an ever.

“We weren’t able to get an MRI with Contrast because she was moving around to much for us to administer the contrast, but we got a good enough MRI to definitively rule out any tumor or mass, any Hemorrhages or Bleeds and no sign of any Stroke.  We believe that it is an infection or a virus but we already were very proactive and began her on a high-powered IV Antibiotic, Acyclovir that should more than be capable of taking care of the infection. . .This is very good news, Congratulations.  Hopefully, this spinal tap will reveal what we are fighting. . . .”

I looked down at my watch as she turned and walked away.

My watch was blurry. . .

salt water in the eyes, causes that. . . .

I took a picture of my running watch.

I wanted to freeze that moment. . .

isolate it. . .

set it a part. . .

always recognize it. . .

OWN    IT

Monday, August 10, 2015; 3:15:54 p.m.

The other side of the sheets didn’t get any less rougher at that moment,

but they certainly got readjusted, fluffed up and  fabreezed

. . .the corners still weren’t tucked in, the center all smoothed out

their appearance mocked their texture. . .still

The Watch. . .kept keeping time. . .

held it prisoner

for what any Watch, Clock or Time Piece never fully reveals. . .

The All-Powerful

N     E     X     T

. . .because even if it’s GOOD NEWS. . .

there’s always a NEXT

. . .like when we found out that there was no mass or tumors, no hemorrhages, no stroke and with the early spinal tap results. . .

NO INFECTIONS/DISEASES. . .

N          E          X          T   !

(This is the second installment of four of THE ROUGH SIDE OF THE SHEETS; these are some of the lessons experienced, learned, and now hopefully, shared.  It’s my hope that you enjoy these journey-ings, and more, take the time to share a few of yours so that we can all learn a little more about those razor blade laden sheets. . .and in the sharing, soften them a little)

Professional Speaker, Author, Assurance Man