A Village it does take
To Be
Joy to the weary
Music to the heart
Health to the sick
Wealth to the poor
Food to the hungry
Home to the wanderer
Jubilation to the jaded
Who Cares - What Matters
Neighbor By JJ Heller, David Heller, and Andy Gullahorn
Sometimes it’s easier to jump to conclusions Than walk across the street It’s like I’d rather fill the blanks with illusions Than take the time to see
You are trying to close the back door of your car You are balancing the groceries and a baby in your arms You are more than just a sign in your front yard You are my neighbor
I can get so lost in the mission Of defending what I think I’ve been surfing on a sea of opinions But just behind the screen
You are grateful that the work day’s finally done You are stuck in miles of traffic, looking at your phone You are tryin’ to feel a little less alone You are my neighbor
When the chasm between us feels so wide That it’s hard to imagine the other side But we don’t have to see things eye to eye For me to love you like you are my neighbor My neighbor
Oh, to fear the unfamiliar Is the easy way to go But I believe we are connected more than we might ever know
There’s a light that shines on both the rich and poor Looks beyond where we came from and who we voted for ‘Till I can’t see a stranger anymore I see my neighbor May my heart be an open door to my neighbor You are my neighbor
S O M E T I M E S
Music is more than MUSIC
and Words are more than
W O R D S
From the beginning of time the question has rung out,
sometimes louder than softer:
JUST WHO IS MY NEIGHBOR?
No matter what you say, You
SHOW THE ANSWER,
Person by Person,
Neighbor by Neighbor…
with this certainty:
It just isn’t the person next door or across the street…
SO JUST WHO IS
YOUR NEIGHBOR. . . ?
N O
I didn’t lose my mind; this is the the video I posted on this past Monday’s blog and as A Caring Catalyst but also a real, live CHANGE MAKER. . .
This hairstylist had a job he was paid to do. . .
Beyond the job, he had the same options every other cause-driven compassionate human being has for comforting someone who is struggling.
Maybe think of these options as “Levels of Sacrificial Giving.” Each level requires a bit more sacrifice on the part of the giver, thereby imbuing the act with an increasing measure of beauty.
LEVEL 1: WORDS
Saying something genuine to affirm the sufferer’s enduring worth.
LEVEL 2: UTILITY
Supplying helpful goods, services, or money for the sufferer’s use.
LEVEL 3: TOUCH
A tender gesture to inhabit the same physical space as the sufferer.
LEVEL 4: TRANSFER
A permanent exchange from giver to sufferer (e.g., organ donation).
LEVEL 5: CO-SUFFERING
Voluntarily joining the sufferer to share the experience of their pain.
This hairstylist is a Level 5 Giver.
It begs the simple question:
ARE YOU A LEVEL FIVE GIVER
I’ve come to learn that no ironclad argument exists for convincing someone that Level 5 Giving is worthwhile or even rational.
The beauty of an act of Level 5 Giving either pierces you in a life-changing way or it doesn’t.
My hope for you and me is that this act, or another like it, so pierces us that we level up our giving in a world that is groaning louder and louder for it every day. . .
JOIN ME
Lets LEVEL UP
always to a better way. . .
A letter from Albert Einstein to his daughter, Lieserl, who donated 1,400 letters written by him to the Hebrew University, with orders not to publish them until 20 years after his death.This is one of them, to her.When I proposed the theory of relativity very few understood me. What I will reveal now to mankind will also collide with the misunderstanding and prejudice in the world.I ask you to guard the letters as long as necessary, decades, until society is advanced enough to accept what I will explain below.There is an extremely powerful force that, so far, science has not found a formal explanation to. It is a force that includes and governs all others, and is even behind any phenomenon operating in the universe, and has not yet been identified by us. This universal force is LOVE.When scientists looked for a unified theory of the universe they forgot the most powerful unseen force. Love is Light, that enlightens those who give and receive it. Love is gravity, because it makes some people feel attracted to others. Love is power, because it multiplies the best we have, and allows humanity not to be extinguished in their blind selfishness. Love unfolds and reveals. For love we live and die. Love is God and God is Love.This force explains everything and gives meaning to life. This is the variable that we have ignored for too long, maybe because we are afraid of love, because it is the only energy in the universe that man has not learned to drive at will.To give visibility to love, I made a simple substitution in my most famous equation. If instead of E = mc2, we accept that the energy to heal the world can be obtained through love, multiplied by the speed of light squared, we arrive at the conclusion that love is the most powerful force there is, because it has no limits.After the failure of humanity in the use and control of the other forces of the universe that have turned against us, it is urgent that we nourish ourselves with another kind of energyIf we want our species to survive, if we are to find meaning in life, if we want to save the world and every sentient being that inhabits it, love is the one and only answer.Perhaps we are not yet ready to make a bomb of love, a device powerful enough to entirely destroy the hate, selfishness and greed that devastate the planet.However, each individual carries within them a small but powerful generator of love, whose energy is waiting to be released.When we learn to give and receive this universal energy, dear Lieserl, we will have affirmed that love conquers all, is able to transcend everything and anything, because love is the quintessence of life.I deeply regret not having been able to express what is in my heart, which has quietly beaten for you all my life. Maybe it’s too late to apologize, but as time is relative, I need to tell you that I love you, and thanks to you I have reached the ultimate answer! “.Your father,Albert EinsteinHmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm. . .
kind of makes you think
that everything’s not so relative. . .
IT IS MORE
. . .SO MUCH MOREwhich means
which means
we can meet in the land of MUCH MORE
living as Caring Catalysts
who all understand and teach
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Life is short, 🔴 ⚫ 🔴
and we have too little time
to gladden the hearts of those
who travel the journey with us.
So be swift to love,
and make haste to be kind.
🔴 Henri-Frédéric Amiel
Swiss Writer 1821-1881
MERRY THE DAY AFTER CHRISTMAS. . .
Here’s hoping your lights are still twinkling
you leftovers are still warm and tasty
you joy is still contagious
Years ago, Paul Simon was asked to name a song he wished he had written. The song he chose was “Silent Night.”
“Silent Night?” Really? But that wasn’t even a hit, ever. Was it?
Actually, yes. In 1935.
The story starts long before that, though. It starts with a poem written by Father Joseph Mohr in 1816, an assistant priest in Mariapfarr, Austria. Written in German, it was called “Stille Nacht.”
Two years later he was the priest of the St. Nicholas parish church in Oberndorf, a village near Salzburg. On the day of Christmas Eve, 1818, he asked organist Franz Gruber to compose a melody for his poem. Because the recent flooding of the Salzach river damaged the church organ, it was unsure if it would be usable in time for Mass, so Mohr requested that Gruber write a guitar accompaniment for it that he could it.
The melody that Gruber composed is a beautiful, poignant one, with the simplicity of a folk song. That simplicity — using only the fundamental changes (I, IV, V and VI) — seems to have been shaped by Gruber’s use of guitar. Had he composed it for organ, he might have created a far more complex melody, and one remembered and cherished by none. But the purity of this melody, with the beautifully holy words written by Father Mohr, resounds like a hymn.
That church was ultimately subsumed completely by the river and replaced with a church named after the famous song which was born there.
In 1935, Bing Crosby recorded it, and sold over ten million copies of it. “Silent Night” was a hit.
In 1966, Simon and Garfunkel recorded a version of the song for their album Parsley, Sage, Rosemary and Thyme, called “Silent Night/ 7 O’Clock News.” In perfect two-part harmony, they sing the song to a piano accompaniment. Into that song bleeds the sound of a news announcer bringing news of the day, thus creating a sound collage of peace set against modern times. That news was actually scripted and read by Charlie O’Donnell, who was a radio DJ then and became the announcer on many TV game shows, including The Wheel of Fortune.
Topics covered in the lyrics which painted the summer of 1966 include the death of Lenny Bruce in Hollywood, a march in Cicero, Illinois by Martin Luther King, Jr., the indictment of Richard Speck for murder, and more. The full text is included below.
Simon and Garfunkel’s rendition of the song is simple and beautiful. Back in the day, we loved this version, merging in radical 60s style the hymn with the modern world. But we yearned to hear it without Charlie talking over it. Of course, back then that was impossible. Not anymore. Here’s the full text:
This is the early evening edition of the news.
The recent fight in the House of Representatives was over the open housing section of the Civil Rights Bill. Brought traditional enemies together but it left the defenders of the measure without the votes of their strongest supporters. President Johnson originally proposed an outright ban covering discrimination by everyone for every type of housing but it had no chance from the start and everyone in Congress knew it.
A compromise was painfully worked out in the House Judiciary Committee. In Los Angeles today comedian Lenny Bruce died of what was believed to be an overdoes of narcotics. Bruce was 42 years old.
Dr. Martin Luther King says he does not intend to cancel plans for an open housing march Sunday into the Chicago suburb of Cicero. Cook County Sheriff Richard Ogleby asked King to call off the march and the police in Cicero said they would ask the National Guard to be called out if it is held. King, now in Atlanta, Georgia, plans to return to Chicago Tuesday.
In Chicago Richard Speck, accused murderer of nine student nurses, was brought before a grand jury today for indictment. The nurses were found stabbed an strangled in their Chicago apartment.
In Washington the atmosphere was tense today as a special subcommittee of the House Committee on Un-American activities continued its probe into anti- Viet nam war protests. Demonstrators were forcibly evicted from the hearings when they began chanting anti-war slogans.
Former Vice-President Richard Nixon says that unless there is a substantial increase in the present war effort in Viet nam, the U.S. should look forward to five more years of war. In a speech before the Convention of the Veterans of Foreign Wars in New York, Nixon also said opposition to the war in this country is the greatest single weapon working against the U.S.
That’s the 7 o’clock edition of the news, Goodnight.
Silent night Holy night
All is calm All is bright
Round yon virgin mother and child
Holy infant so tender and mild
Sleep in heavenly peace,
sleep in heavenly peace.
So what of this first day after Christmas
or all of the days that’ll follow it from now
and Christmas’ to come. . .
WHAT OF IT, INDEED
Psssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssst:
WE ARE THE LYRICS OF THE SONG
THAT NEEDS SINGING
HEARD
ADAPTED
for a Heavenly Peace we not only yearn to sleep within
but refuse to live
w i t h o u t
MERRY CHRISTMAS
(again)
(and many agains too numerous to count)
Ok, full discloser, I LOVE WRITING. I always have. Perfect gifts for me have always been books, notebooks, pens, pencils, paper. . .lots of blank paper.
And with this I always believed that I would be a raw child phenom writer; published way before my time (and everyone else’s) to the chagrin of many who tried but could just never succeed or even be recognized and affirmed. THIS is why, with the help of my school secretary mom, who had access to the office ditto machine, I put together a poetry book and handed out to friends and family when I graduated from high school.
College brought on a whole new challenge as I actually majored in English with an emphasis on Creative Writing. HEAVEN but, but still no official publication except from some college newspaper and literary magazine we put out quarterly, but I had a big drawer with rejection slips politely telling me, “We thank you for your submission, but it doesn’t fit our standards. . . .”
Pages and pages were written and as I moved to and through Seminary with an emphasis on Social Ethics/Pastoral Care, I was able to convince my Advisor to write five short stories for my Thesis based on some theories of Peter Berger. It got me my Master of Divinity Degree and with graduation and full time parish ministry came lots of speaking, sermons, teaching, youth grouping and continued rejection slips.
But the writing never stopped. Writing classes. Two unpublished novels. Lots of poems. Many speaking engagements and an idea. Brilliant actually, especially for the acting President of the IMPOSTER SYNDROME CLUB. I write, because I can’t help it. Which is probably why I have close to 2000 blog posts, many of them featuring some of my poetic expressions. I no longer write for traditional publication. I write now for all things to Self-Publish (because I can totally control all aspects of the writing/publication and distribution) and, wait for it. . .
TO LITERALLY GIVE IT ALL AWAY. . .in fact, one of my goals for 2023 is to give away up to 1000 books hand in hand with my presentations.
(WHICH BRINGS US TO THE REASON FOR THIS PARTICULAR BLOG POST
A GIVE-AWAY of sorts. . .
I accepted a poetry challenge this past year, actually three of them which resulted in over 60 poems. The first Challenge was in February where I had to write 15 poems in 15 days of just 15 lines on several prompts that were provided. I think in one-liners or poetic lines. (I DARE YOU TO LOOK AT MY FACEBOOK/TWITTER/INSTAGRAM feeds). The second Challenge happened in April: NATIONAL POETRY MONTH where I was allowed to write 30 poems in 30 days up to 30 lines or less a piece. The third Challenge was this Fall where it followed the first challenge of 15 poems, in 15 days of just 15 lines on the prompts they suggested. I was a little surprised that they were published and both appeared in Amazon Prime as separate Chapbooks for $10.00 a piece. I was able to purchase them at half that price and have given about 50 a piece away and now for a brief period of time, will use as a fundraiser for the small church I have served at North Royalton Christian Church since 1995. No price tag attached, not even a suggestion–purely whatever you’d like to donate
Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh
I did mention that I am the acting President of the IMPOSTER SYNDROME CLUB, didn’t I?
As another safety net
(p a d d i n g)
or layer
I found this perfect quote
almost as a disclaimer:
So as I have accepted a few Challenges this year
Let me know if you’d like to accept mine
and donate accordingly. . .
and I’ll leave you with one more meager poem
(not yet submitted or self-published:
DO YOU REMEMBER THIS. . . ?
It came out in 2001 and I remember watching it with my kids and laughing with them and wondering are toys the only things that are
M I S F I T S. . .
Go ahead, watch it again
and catch some of the things you most likely didn’t notice
or maybe just glossed over
OR MAYBE
just didn’t want to see or recognize. . .
It’s odd
This version of
RUDOLPH THE RED-NOSE REINDEER AND THE ISLAND OF MISFIT TOYS
What about the bad guy named Mr. Cuddles, who kidnaps toys so kids will never outgrown them. Or, the blimp, a hippopotamus queen, all with Rudolph thinking about getting a nose job. Rudolph and his friends show up at this misfit island, where they meet a cast of quirky toys, sequestered away in their shame. There’s a CHARLIE-IN-THE-BOX, a bird that swims, and a cowboy who rides an ostrich. And yes, there is a chorus of music that kind of normalizes it like all music tries to do. They real each attribute that, in their own minds, gives them oddball status: There’s a spotted elephant, a choo-choo with square wheels, and a water pistol that shoots jelly. Together, wail about their quirks through song and proclaim, not so proudly,
“We’re all misfits!”
Now here’s the thing, I think this part was suppose to be sad, but I kind of missed the memo when I was watching this. A happy little island of honest misfits sounded like paradise to me. Can you imagine belonging to a community like that? Those who wouldn’t bother hiding THEIR WEIRD?
Wait. . .WHAT. . .
Oh, you’re a bird that swims in water? Well, Yippee! I ride an ostrich! You feel weird about your polka-dot skin? Well, check out my square wheels chugging down an off the track trail!
Seriously, in what universe would this be considered exile? These misfits have found their people! A truer tragedy would be faking perfect, hiding your spots, and trying to conform. The misfit toys have created a hopeful haven, and it’s what I kind of pray to discover; to have for myself and you, others. . .
That by just showing up each day, BOLDLY BROKEN,
your very own island might form or maybe, just maybe
we discover that we’ve never
NOT BEEN A PART OF IT ALL ALONG
All the same. . .
JOIN ME
R E C O G N I Z E
just how
W E I R D L Y
we are so much more alike
THAN NOT. . .
DO YOU SEE WHAT I SEE
DO YOU HEAR WHAT I HEAR
DO YOU FEEL WHAT I FEEL
DO YOU TASTE WHAT I TASTE
DO YOU SMELL WHAT I SMELL
ALL GOOD QUESTIONS
with even better answers
Photo by Andrea Piacquadio on Pexels.com
S E R I O U S L Y
you better watch out
because what we
s e e
isn’t always really what is ever seen. . .
Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm
James Crews is a poet who teaches Poetry at the University at Albany and lives on a organic farm with his husband in Shaftsbury, Vermont. Each Friday he posts a poem, sometimes one of his own that serves as more than just some mere Poetry Prompt. He recently posted this: I’ve been sitting with this very short but very powerful poem by Jane Hirshfield ever since a dear friend passed it along to me earlier in the week. It speaks to the season so many of us might find ourselves inhabiting, not only that of autumn, but a moment of loss and transition during which we’re asked to accept such changes as necessary, and perhaps even sacred. In this poem, she invites us to see each shedding tree as an icon, “thinned/back to bare wood,/without diminishment.” And there is almost a haiku-like quality to those final three lines that urges us toward deeper contemplation of the richness inherent in these wooden beings. Perhaps what we see as loss and a kind of death each year as fall comes is really just wind and weather having worshipped the trees so much they are returned to their basic essence. In this way, we might reframe any difficult season when we are worn back to our essential selves as holy, worthy of worship for the way such trying times allow us to become something new.
Autumn
by Jane Hirshfield
Again the wind
flakes gold-leaf from the trees
and the painting darkens—
as if a thousand penitents
kissed an icon
till it thinned
back to bare wood,
without diminishment.Invitation for Writing & Reflection: How might you reframe a difficult season in your own life as sacred or holy, seeing how you were worn back to the truest version of yourself even while in pain?
It prompted me to write in kind:
FALLING
And just like that
Summer fell
into a colorfully crisp confetti
of blazenous colors
that never reached the ground
Flutterings
into what can’t always be planted
but never fails to be garnered in
whatsoeversthat find us all
softly soaringly sheltered
in a cooling uplifting Breath
A heavenly satisfied SighMay this Fall Season bring you lots of
Oooooh and A W E
In this era, where a lot of people are becoming more and more indifferent towards one another, kindness is coming at an expensive price. It is not often that you see people showing kindness towards others. BUT. . .I found this video recently where there was a prepared set of different videos to prove that wrong. Throughout the video, you can watch Santa providing warm clothes to homeless people or older woman praising stranger for doing cool tricks with skateboard and many others. As always I hope this afflicts the Caring Catalyst in you that by merely watching the video, you will realize that kindness in humanity hasn’t been lost completely and there are still people out there ready to show acts of kindness not only to their close ones, but also to any random strangers and make them emotional or even cry by their acts of kindness. THAT it’ll inspire you to bring a special warmth to Another’s CHILL. . .Enjoy watching the video. . .