The story that keeps coming to mind is of a young woman, CL, my administrative assistant in a professional, research-based setting.  I find humor in it now, but at the time, it was no laughing matter. CL came highly recommended by JL who, coincidentally, became a supervised employee of mine in a later job and, who also created, on her own,one year of pure stress and hell for me.

So…CL had a psychological disorder (I have forgotten its clinical name) involving self-importance and the consistent overestimation of her abilities, capabilities and capacity.  I know this because I actually researched her symptoms/traits online as I began to take note of her unusual makeup and the chaos it created around her.  She began in a very well-dressed, well-spoken, polite and organized way.

Within one week of employment, she needed time because her cat was very sick, then she broke up with her boyfriend.  At work, she created very detailed databases and files.  She antagonized everyone around here, found fault with everything that everyone else did.  She called in because her hemorrhoids were bothering her.  She often spoke in a very, very high-pitched voice, like a little girl. Her rough edges began to show. Her desk was immaculate.  Her grammar was sometimes bad. She was trying to quit smoking.  She never really smiled.  She was often overly polite, leaving at the end of the day with “Is there anything else I can do for you before I leave?”  This, even though she had bulldozed and machete-hacked her way through people, tasks and meetings all day.

This was a dilemma.  This was very confusing. I began the HR process of documentation and verbal warnings so that I could liberate our entire staff from this psychological disorder which came to work every day in the physical form of one CL.  Every conversation with her was draining.  She resisted the observation and suggested behavioral recommendations, she went to see our executive director; the process was delayed by months as we went through every channel towards the inevitable outcome of her termination.  

In her mind she was perfect, highly skilled and superior.  In her mind, no one else had her work ethic,  her organizational abilities or her professional demeanor.  The Catch-22 of this particular personality and psychological disorder is that there is never a real chance for change, because the very nature of the disorder makes it impossible to see otherwise. 

It was the day of my letting her go.  She knew, of course, and so decided to beat me to the punch by coming in late, going directly to her computer, smiling at me when I came to her and asked her to step into my office.  She came in, handed me her letter of resignation and added, verbally, that I was despicable and that she hoped she never had to work for anyone like me again.

I think her hopes have been fulfilled. I recently heard that she now works as a long-distance truck driver.

HI ppl!

La venganza es un plato que se sirve mejor frío.

Me gustaría gritaros “zorras, putas, calculadoras de los cojones” pero, como supongo que podréis leerlo, no lo haré. Espera, ¿lo he hecho? Vaya, qué pena. Es un blog, puedo poner lo que quiera ¿no? ¿Y si no? ¿Qué es lo peor que me podéis hacer? ¿Echarme? Bueno, pues si hay que afrontarlo, se afronta. Pero, como he dicho, sólo me remitiré a la frase de arriba: venganza.

Venganza, ¿por qué? Porque no os importa una mierda lo que significan ellos, sólo conocerlos. No os importan los fans, no os importa nada de lo que hagan mientras no podáis verlos. Y eso no es ser fan. Eso es ser inútil. Eso es aprovecharse de ellos y eso sí que no lo voy a permitir. Podría encajar la derrota si hubiese sido justa, pero como no lo ha sido, no tengo que encajar nada. Me dais pena. Pena porque la vida no es como la pintáis vosotras y algún día os darán una hostia y me reiré en vuestra cara. No podéis ir así por la vida.

Y ahora pensando, ¿por qué me vais a poder echar por poner esto? No digo vuestros nombres, no digo los suyos, no digo el de las organizaciones. Ahá, eso se llama falsa acusación. Y lo que os ha hecho daros cuenta, conciencia.

Get me out of here,
This thing called life I cannot bear.
The past is haunting,
The present is cause for stressing.
My future, all I can see,
Is a black hole where I’m anywhere but free.
I want out, I want new.
I want to be able to see these things through.
I just want to be happy,
I just want to know.
Not left out in the dark,
So maybe I’ll leave one final mark.
One final mark to mark my past,
To mark my present,
And to mark that I wasn’t made to last.
Leave an imprint on lives I once knew,
People I thought I had grown close to.
It’s going to hurt when it heals to,
But, I’m going to smile because I deserve to.
A hole of black is seeping through my soul,
I’m not sure how to play my role.
I just don’t know what to do,
What to say, or what I have to loose.
What will they say, what will they think?
If I’m gone with just one blink.

Os pongo las covers y aquellos que quieran saber el tracklist que vayan a la seccion de Amuro Namie y busquen la noticia ^^

Es la caña esta mujer.

Quien se atreveria a romper consigo misma?? Solo una diva puede hacerlo XD

Dear Mcken,

How have you been doing? It’s been awhile since i last visited you isn’t it. You’ll probably be wondering what is the intent of my impending visit, or rather my intention which you may think is vile and repulsive.

But do you think it will ruffle any part of me to know that you will be disturbed? It is always a pleasure to see you grimace and squirm under all the deft touches of my eptitude. As compared to your ineptitude, it is always a catalyst for me to inflict more damage than it has already been done.

Memories are made of two things, pain and joy. The latter i have removed, the former i have multiplied. Scream silently all you want, for it is in the essence of a successful manipulator like me to see dreams go up in smoke, to watch faces contort in pain, and to engulf myself with the flames of cries gone unheard.

How you have tried to banish me, to the deep ends of the darkened world. How you have tried to chain me, to the frosty reception of your listless soul. I can only mock, and mock i will continue. For your heart is so weak, so weak that i see it tremble; at the sight of past ghosts.

Ghosts of your memories, ghosts of your dreams;

Ghosts of the failed ones, and the ghosts of the has been.

I will fulfill my part, my will to harrass you. So whatever resistance you may put up, i wish you the best.

For i may be your enemy, but sometimes victory, isn’t everything.

Sincerely,

Mr Past.

I live in a part of the country where people talk the way they do on the national news. Or in movies where the location is unspecified. Normal, generic, American. I’ve always been a bit proud of the fact. My speech doesn’t define me with predetermined judgments of where I’m from. My intellect isn’t assumed based on the way that I talk.

But speech isn’t as standard as one might assume. I went 18 years of my life thinking that I sounded exactly the same as all of my peers. I distinctly remember one snowy winter day in college when I was standing outside of the dorm with my best friend and boyfriend and for some reason we needed a bag. “Why do you say ‘beg’ when it’s pronounced ‘bAg’?” my friend asked. I felt like the world came crashing around me and I had to hold back tears. All these years I’d been saying a word differently and no one ever told me. Were they laughing secretly every time I said the word previously? Had I annoyed them with my pronunciation?

From that day on I pause slightly before using the words bag, flag, rag, sag, tag, etc. – pronouncing them correctly still seems like a foreign language to me. I know who’s to blame; it’s my mother. She talks fast and non-stop. I’m fairly certain she’s never once paused long enough to consider if she’s speaking correctly. I cringe every time she says ‘beg’ meaning to say ‘bag.’ She also loves the word ‘real.’ As in, “I did real good on my test today,” or “my dog is real anxious to get outside.” And here is the dilemma: This woman essentially taught me how to speak. Who am I to correct her? After 55-plus years of speaking the way that she does, can she be asked to change? To learn that it should be “I did really well on my test today.”? Not that I speak perfectly, or that I don’t have major grammatical flaws. But, nonetheless, it irks me.

When I returned home after living in Africa for more than three years, I felt like everyone around me talked funny. A strange thing evolves when Peace Corps volunteers from all over America live in such a tight community for so long — we all start talking alike. I giggle when I talk to my friends from New York or the Midwest on the phone. They have such strong accents that never emerged when we were in Africa. Likewise, all of us let our speech patterns relax and evolve until we settled into a communal accent. But it was short-lived.

I wonder if some people never think at all about the way they talk. My mom is one example. My dad is another. He’s so self-conscious that he often trips over his own tongue. So then when he catches himself he moves his mouth wide as he speaks to make sure he’s enunciating. Nonetheless, he mispronounces my daughter’s name. She has a name that rhymes with Alana, where the second A sounds like an O. But he pronounces it like Al-Anna. And it drives me nuts. It’s not like he doesn’t hear me and the Hubs pronouncing it correctly. But it doesn’t register with him. So, the second parental dilemma: Do I risk embarrassing him with the news that he’s mispronouncing the name of his only grandchild? Or do I wait until she’s old enough to correct him herself? Or will she be like me, always wondering why the man can’t make enough effort to figure me/her out on his own?

Thanks for reading my blog.  I try hard to respond to every email I receive, but I receive more and more every week.  It is getting hard to keep up.  I started a forum that will address tenant debt and tenant screening issues to help answer the commonly asked questions.  Please help me get the forum off the ground by registering and posting your questions.

The forum url is: www.theinformedlandlord.com

Thanks,

Bill Gray

Bill@thelandlorddoctor.com

www.thelandlordoctor.com

i need to buy more. my phone’s on charge. the music on. sun seems to be making the leaves shine green. it might just be a good day.

i’m planning to go back there just for a little bit. i nearly got the whole way yesterday. just stopped short. it might just work out today.

i sent that email. i got a reply. ‘don’t you dare blame yourself.’ how can i not? there’s no point in blaming others. take responsibility. just ignore everything else. it might just come together today.

i replied to that text too. i haven’t got a reply. but what did i expect. it might just go back today.

it might. it might not. all i can do is try.

positive feelings. positive thoughts. positively trying.

twenty years of sleep, before we sleep forever.

i’m not tired yet.

 “if someone is to love you, they’re going to have to learn to accept your faults. you won’t change because you can’t.”

so i don’t know what i’ve done to make you not speak to me anymore. can you tell me please so i can fix it?

this happens every time. i could cry.

and i sat at the train station tonight with a guy i haven’t seen since primary school. and it was great. no pauses. no stops. just flowing conversation. and no awkwardness. and he missed two trains just to wait with me. so we could finish what we were saying to each other. and we played i have never. and we matched. and i mocked him for his fourteen year old girlfriend. and told him my problems. and he listened. and i made a cremation joke and he said i pulled it off. and he got a train from the other side of the station and he waved. and i know i’ve made a good friend there. and i know i’m going to see him again.

my phone was left on my bed all day. i came home to two missed calls and two texts. and i was not expecting one of them at all. and it actually made me smile that she cared. but i have no credit to reply. i should at midnight. i’ll send an email then too. and i’m trying to word it now but i can’t get it just right. if i keep it simple it might just work.

and i feel sick. my toes have blisters. i got the wrong train home. so i had to walk for an hour. i took my heels off and walked through the mud in just my tights. and i stepped on glass and ripped my tights more and cut my hand on thorns i couldn’t see in the dark.

cut me into pieces. what does one more scratch on the surface mean to you. you cut me so deep and you don’t know. don’t care. don’t see. out of sight, out of mind. close your eyes and shut off your ears. if you can’t see and you don’t hear then it’s not real. it’s not happening. just another fleeting moment. a time you choose to ignore. if you don’t ask then you won’t hear an answer you don’t want to. you won’t have to deal with it. claim ignorance. claim you never knew. unknowing bliss. you never have to step in. you never have to help.

where were you when everything was falling apart?

i’m wearing my bright leggings. i have a purple jumper on and a blue ribbon in my hair. my hair is up and i have two necklaces and the silver bracelet that matches both of yours. i want to start wearing my other bracelets again but i can’t find them and when i do find them, i can’t bring myself to put them on. i feel nothing like i did when i started wearing them. my hair has changed. my clothes are not the same. my feelings are different. i’m not the person i once was.

i’m not whole, i’m not whole, you waste it.

my feet feel like they have bruised from all the walking today. i retraced five years worth of steps today.

i wish you would step in.

Don’t  reply  on the  PAST  to create  the  FUTURE,

reply  on  the  FUTURE  to  ERASE  the  PAST.

อย่าวางใจใช้…อดีต…เป็นตัวสร้าง…อนาคต…

แต่จงใช้…อนาคต…เป็นตัวลบ…อดีต…ทิ้งไป

So when you look at your life what do you see or feel is missing or is there something you want to change about your life.  Maybe you’re stuck in old energy or thoughts or think that if you leave a relationship you won’t be able to make it on your own.

Could be that you just have a feeling that something is wrong and that possibly you’ve been looking in the wrong area of your life to try to fix something and it has nothing to do with what you thought it was at all.

A lot of times we get stuck in our lives and we’re not sure where we should start to look.  Some of us look at our mates and say.  “It’s their fault I feel terrible.”    When it is really something about us that is the real culprit to life seeming hard or relationships a real pain to be in.

When we look inside to try to understand and ‘fix’ our lives there is so much that has gone on in our lives that we can’t sift through all the history.  This history is comprised of emotions, judgements, punishment and dis-ease and  way to much to truly understand what it is all about.

To be able to wade our way through all of this history requires a lot of work.  Some of us journal our way to understanding ourselves and moving on beyond the life we’ve lived so far.  Others go to counselors to work through our baggage.   Suggestions and tools become our way of fixing our selves.

Another way is to actually look at the energy system that surrounds the energy body and find the energetic pictures, emotions and experiences that make up who we are.  We are a product of every thing that we see, feel, hear, touch, and smell.  We create our belief systems on other’s beliefs.  Making it hard to really understand who we are and what exactly we are experiencing.

After many years we begin to shut down.  We decide that what we have right now is enough.  And the years slide by in the same patterns, and depression and disbelief.

When we decide that we don’t have to live in old belief patterns and emotions we can really shift our life.  Instead of being the product of our past we can be the creator of our future by actively looking for change.

Get a reading and healing on the blocks in your energy system and live the life you came to live this lifetime.

I snuggle Fynn in the moments before he goes to sleep. I stroke his hair. Run my hand down his cheek, my fingers trace the line in between his eyes that runs down his nose in an effort to help him close his sleepy blue eyes. He holds my hand for a few moments, then lets go, rolls over. He’s ready for sleep, ready for his space, ready to say goodnight. He’s had his fill of snuggles. I leave him to his slumber, and sulk out of the bedroom.

I always need more.

Tonight is my high school reunion. I’m not going. I thought about it, but the timing is not good – the night before Thanksgiving when we’re hosting, and now we have sick kids, and no babysitter. However, if I could take my {healthy} kids with me, I would have gone in a heartbeat.

Is that wrong?

People always want to show off their best sides at reunions. They are my best side. My best work. My everything. With them in tow I would had a built in shield from harsh conversations or off handed comments that might have occurred {though only in my head…} I have some wonderful memories from those years, and think fondly of the few good friends I had, but there are also memories that got shoved away due to painful content. For another day, another year.

There are times when I think I need the kids more than they will know. They are my protectors, my shield. When I’m out by myself, I’m not as vibrant and on the ball as when I’m out with them. With them, I want to be the mom they know, always. Relatively uninhibited, outgoing, fun. Not the shy, introvert that I’ve known and had a love hate relationship for 28 years.

They bring out the best in me.

They push me.

Egg me on to be better.

And yet they are safe.

In their absence during my alone time I wear a necklace bearing their names in hope that it reminds me of who I can be, who I’ve become. They’re with me always, in my heart and on my mind. I know I’m needy when it comes to my children, they’ve given me so much already. But it can’t be helped. It’s not that I wasn’t hugged enough as a child, or have a husband who doesn’t give me hugs. Neither one of those are even close to the truth.

When my children were born, I thought many insecurities would simply disappear. And some did. But some are here to stay. Thankfully it’s family and faith that gets us through them, makes us work at them, makes us stronger.

Sometimes in the wee hours of the morning I sneak in to the comfort of Fynn’s bed and steal a few midnight snuggles, then drift off to sleep smelling his Burt’s Bees washed hair. I breathe him in and it brings me back to earth, back from late night panic attacks and dreary thoughts. He and Paige both bring me peace.

If there’s a twenty year reunion, I will probably go. Without the kids. By that time I hope to have grown into myself a little more, with the help of two little ones. The family my husband and I created. The best parts of us.

Sometimes I wish I could let yesterday go up in smoke so there wouldn’t be any remnants of it, and then when I think of doing just that I realize all of what I am today comes from who I was yesterday. Those things of the past allowed me to have the experiences I have this moment…no matter how hard it was to go thru. So, let me focus on things I can change in this moment.

This is what I choose:

1. Instead of acting out of hurt, I choose to pray for someone whom I love that hurts me greatly.
2. Instead of acting out destructively to punish myself in some sort of fashion or way, I choose to treat myself with loving kindness as if I were someone else…not just someone who hurts or who feels like I am “bad.”
3. Instead of trying to stuff down the pain, I choose to feel it and let it go through the stages of grief, so I can move past the hurt and pain.
4. Instead of looking back, I choose to look forward and focus on what is happening this moment, so I don’t overwhelm myself with could have been or should have been.
5. Instead of me feeling ungrateful for the chance to love my loved ones, I can feel grateful I can choose to love beyond what another chooses for her/his life.
6. Instead of me defining myself on what happens, I choose to define myself by my character, the values and beliefs I uphold, and the love I have to freely give.
7. Instead of hating, I choose to have love for another even though I am hurt.

The Gemini

We often asked “What is life?”; “What is Love?”; “What is Life after the meaning of your life is gone or when your love ones chooses a different path?”; “What ? What now?”; “What is the Truth?”; “How can you get away of the pain and suffering?” There’s a lot of questions in your head and everything is unanswered.

But somebody told me one thing and that is to do this first step and everything will be alright and you can be happy again. Its a long process but doing this will begin the journey in searching for the answers in your questions. This powerful word is “Acceptance”.

In any tough journey, you will always find light in the darkness when you seek for it. The best way to seek for answers is to experience. You need to pray and listen. You need to suffer and recover. You need to ask questions and find out answers along the way. Therefore, you need to struggle in order for you to learn.

Letting go is accepting everything what happened. Its accepting that you have weaknesses and that makes you human. Its accepting that you’ve given everything but not everything is in your control. Letting go is accepting the truth, and that truth really hurts. It is living with the pain and learning to heal. Letting go means you have a lot of love to give and that also means let your love ones to be happy in the choices they made, even if that means total sadness to you. Letting go is leaving your comfort zone. Its facing what is difficult and uncomfortable. It’s being courageous. All of the things you’ve been afraid of is happening and you have to face it. Letting go is accepting that love needs to grow and it will whenever, wherever it wanted to. Love needs to be treasured but always prepare to let it go when it needed so. Love is only real when given and shared it without expecting anything in return. Letting go is remembering the past and acknowledging that you’ve both given all you’ve got for each other. Memories of love will never die. Whatever you do to prevent it, you’ll never succeed. It will just past through your mind. It is embracing the thorns of love and bleed. The scars in your heart are the manifestation that you’ve given real love. Letting go is the beginning of your forgiveness. It means accepting that everybody is just human and human beings aren’t perfect including you. Letting go is never the end of anything, but rather its a new beginning of everything.

Love is ironic in many ways. You keep it but you also need to let it go. So letting go is merely part of life… Letting go will give birth to a new meaning in life and that’s the truth. Accept the truth and be free from everything once again.

- The Free lover

in the darkness
the mind goes
to dark places
revisiting
past visions
that have come
and gone
stains
on the film
of the reel
of time
yet remain
still
in the crevices
of the mind
as I search
for the switch
to turn on
the light
that will open
my mind
to what I see
through my eyes

I light up the darkness…

destroy the negative.

Pusing berputar di kepala serasa ingin didekap lelap lagi. Pagi ini suram, mendung. Sepertinya langit akan menangisi bumi lagi, alam akan kembali kelam, membuat aku malas untuk melanjutkan hari. Kantuk terasa masih lengket, makin lengket lagi karena atmosfer ini, menyakitkan jiwa melemahkan tubuh dan menurunkan semangat dengan drastis. Aku lirik lagi tempat tidur yang nikmat.

Lalu tanpa sadar, aku dibawa melintasi masa. Disana, di sebuah jalan kecil yang becek, kulihat seorang remaja laki-laki mengayuh sepeda ontelnya yang usang. Sepedanya berembun, basah. Ternyata mendung yang menggelayut manja di atas kepalanya telah berubah menjadi tetesan-tetesan kecil rapat yang membasahi rambutn tebalnya, menyuruh matanya menyipit, membuat seragam putih abu-abunya kebes. Ia terlihat basah dan kumuh. Tapi pagi itu si anak tak memedulikan keadaan dan tetap mengayuh berat sepedanya melawan air yang menggenangi jalan, mengatasi angin yang menderu dari arah berlawanan.

Hingga tiba ia di sebuah pertigaan, disambut seorang temannya yang juga bersepeda dari arah yang berbeda. Gadis itu tersenyum, menemani kekuyuban si remaja, jaket oranye yang dipakainya untuk melindungi tubuh dari dingin terlihat lebih tua. Baru beberapa puluh meter mereka beriringan mengayuh, terdengar suara berseru seorang gadis lainnya dari simpangan lainnya. Ia mengayuh sepedanya dengan susah payah mengimbangi laju mereka berdua, rambut kuncir kudanya sudah agak layu karena basah.

Si remaja merasa senang dan tenang dengan kehadiran teman-teman sepersepedaannya itu. Ia lebih menikmati hujan yang membasuh muka lusuhnya, tak lagi ia mengayuh cepat-cepat. Temannya telah membuatnya berada.

Saat melewati rel kereta api, mereka bertemu seorang teman laki-laki yang sedang berteduh di bawah tenda warung. Melihat mereka, ia tertular keriangannya, hingga memutuskan untuk ikut merasakan kegembiraan meraka akan hujan, menjalani perjuangan menuju sekolah.

Asyiknya mereka berempat bersepeda hingga tanpa sadar telah sampai di pintu gerbang sekolah. Begitu sampai di parkiran, mereka berjanji untuk bersepeda bersama lagi melawan hujan. Awan pun tampak merestui niat mereka. Ia tak menghentikan hujannya hingga siang harinya, saat mereka pulang sambil membawa bekal baru.

Tiba-tiba aku tersedot kembali ke masa kini, merasakan semangat mereka, kembali mengaliri urat nadi. Kakiku kini melangkah turun menapak lantai, meninggalkan tempat tidur yang akan dengan setia menungguku hingga saat lelah tiba petang nanti. Aku kemudian sadar, mengenali wajah si remaja lusuh tadi.

Mukanya sama dengan mukaku.

dfoe, November 2009

Bailey Island, ME. June 20, 2009.

Scar

Across the earth across
my hands
open, old, and deep
a forgotten time

once there were fresh buds bursting forth
once this wound was not a wound,
but a beginning
a birth and becoming

and now the pebbles scatter, freckles across
boulders shaken to the core
can I break through their dark solidness?
through the scar?

beneath,
where I dare not go
where the rawness remains
anxiety, newness

the opening of eyes, rimmed with phlegm and trickling tears
an infant
the child of the universe
was this me? it wasn’t, was it?

because here I am, kneeling in dust, fingers curled over the edge
of the earth
peering into depths so dark
my eyes fail

to open this past, I need to feel,
to reach my hands down and in,
and touch the warmth
the magma singeing the center

still I hover at the edge
of the scar

This is another poem from Leslea Newman’s workshop at the Write Angles conference.

This journal describes a trip to Noka, a village in Ghana, West Africa from November 6 – 15, 2009.  For a background on the history with Noka, click on “Changed For The World” tab at the top of this blog.  To see pictures related to Noka, click on “David Phipps photos” at the top of the right margin.  Print like this is general descriptions.  Print like this indicates my personal views and feelings.

Friday 6 November – Saturday 7 November

Eight of us were leaving Dayton airport for a seven-day mission trip in Ghana.  We were to have nine people, but one member contracted pneumonia which was immediately was followed by pleurisy.  That left myself and seven ladies.  Yes, you read that correctly.  I was nervous to say the least.  We only had one suitcase with a weight issue, and that was quickly remedied by moving some items to an underweight bag.  Our flights all went very smoothly.  We had a good flight schedule with plenty of time for transfers.  Personally, I can’t remember starting a trip so tired.  I was asleep before the plane from of Detroit left the ground.  We breezed through customs after some delay in getting all our bags.  Someone had removed them from the pick-up location.  One member of our group found them stacked on the other side of the room.  We were greeted outside the Accra airport by some young girls from the hosting church who were dressed up in native apparel.  We drove straight to the church’s very nice guesthouse where we immediately went to bed.  I had never been to the guesthouse, and I was pleasantly surprised.  It had individual bathrooms, a fan, tiled floor, and even A/C!   Another group from Greenville, Ohio was there at the same time, so I briefly visited with them.  I laid awake about an hour then fell asleep.

Sunday 8 November

We planned to skip the 6am service but would attend both the 8:30am and 10:30am services.  That meant a 7am breakfast where we ate with the Greenville group.  The Greenville group was doing some medical and construction projects in locations different from Noka.  However I learned that they would be staying in the same “hotel” as us later in the week.  In fact, I would be sharing a room with one of the men on the team.  Between services, everyone was involved in some type of teaching: children, youth, or adults.  Church services were unusual and challenging experiences for some of the team.  This congregation is much more demonstrative than what we were used to at our church.  And there was an attention to appearances that was greatly different than our church.  Everyone, both groups, traveled to “Pizza Hut” for some of the best pizza I have ever eaten.  The pizza is literally made in a hut.  And I think it is the dough that I love.  It is all handmade – none of that premade cardboard-like stuff at the pizza chains!  Delicious.    We made the journey to our “hotel” over some rugged roads.  The roads have been under construction for three years.  Progress is so slow.  We grouped by roommates and went to our rooms to unpack.  We were dropped off at the hotel, and our transportation returned to the capital city, Accra.  Our team was alone.  I kind of felt abandoned.  I was pretty concerned about what tomorrow held.  How do we get to Noka?  Are they prepared for us?  What about food?  I met with all the team to explain that I planned to travel to Noka by myself to see if our arrival was expected and preparations made.  I slept pretty well considering the jet lag, heat, and unknowns.

Monday 9 November

After a light breakfast, I asked the cook to use her phone to call our host pastor, Apostle Odai.  He assured me that the local pastor would greet us at our hotel and two cars would arrive to take us to Noka.  It all happened as he said.  I was so relieved to see the local pastor, Reverend Gibson.  He is a great guy and great to work with.  Our project for this trip was to give a physical exam to all the children in Noka.  The results of these exams would be used to accomplish our trip purpose on our last day in Noka.  I’ll explain that in full in my Friday 13 November journal entry.  Children were waiting when we arrived so we quickly set up and began the medical exams.  We were extremely busy through 2pm.  The count for that day exceeded 150 children.  It was a long day.  I was really impressed by how the team worked together and maintained positive attitudes in spite of the heat and hard work.  We had a team debrief after we cleaned up and ate.  Topics of concern ranged from how well the day went to whether they should buy local attire “off the rack” or have it tailor-made.  Personally, I was not accustomed to the quantity of words spoken. 

Tuesday 10 November

Breakfast was good, and it was followed by a good time of team devotions.  Each member shared their insights on some verses about “faith”.  The feelings shared reached into hearts and there was open, personal sharing with tears.  Each morning we used the same format for devotions but with a different theme.  We asked the cars to drop us off at the edge of Noka so we could walk through the village and interact with the people.  This walk took longer than I expected, but I’m glad we did it.  The team really seemed interested in the people and the village.  Children and parents were waiting on us so we continued with the exams as soon as everyone was ready.  Today we added another item to our schedule.  Two of the nurses began teaching a couple villager members how to wash and bandage wounds.  It seemed that most of the team understood and accepted the concept of CHE and how CHE impacted what we did.  We did not want to do anything to or for the members of the village.  We wanted to work with them so they could continue the work after we left.  We were back to the hotel by 3pm so we could clean up and rest.  We were to go to a revival service tonight!  The revival service wasn’t like the ones I grew up attending.  The music was loud – like hurt your ears and shake the ground loud.  There was dancing, demon deliverance, and screaming preachers.  Each night two people from our team spoke.  Some gave a testimony and some gave a “sermon”.  The Greenville group joined us tonight, and my roomie moved in.  Both of us slept like rocks.

Wednesday 11 November

After breakfast and team devotions we headed back to Noka.  While the ladies gave a clinic to the children about brushing their teeth, I met with ten members of the local church.  We had a discussion/Bible study on the importance of discipleship.  As with last year’s study, they were great students.  They really enjoyed discussion and responded to what scripture taught.  That afternoon we walked through the village to meet more people and invite them to the revival service.  Almost everyone we met said that they were coming to the service that evening.  But they didn’t.  They were being polite by saying what they thought we wanted to hear.  I was able to talk with a man who made spoons to sell in the market.  I order one from him.  And I played a quick game of TT (table tennis).  I lost.  Our car driver took us to an area where bamboo was growing.  One member of the team is in love with bamboo; she was smiling ear-to-ear.  We prepared gift bags for the village council and the church leadership, ate dinner, and headed off the revival again.  Apostle Odai insisted that we attend the revival services, but I only agreed to attend two of the four evenings.  They are a great experience, but they are also very exhausting. 

Thursday 12 November

After breakfast and team devotions we headed back to Noka.  Again children were waiting on us, so the ladies began right away.  I had been asked to repeat yesterday’s lesson for people who did not attend Wednesday.  I had picked up a head cold so I had a really sore throat and was tired.  The lesson went okay, but I did not add much enthusiasm to our time.  Lunch allowed me to try a meat pie, pear “beer”, and a fresh-picked orange.  All of them were great!  The spoon maker that I met yesterday brought me a spoon with his name burned into it.  I paid his standard price, about seventy-five cents.  We walked the village for a short time and then went back to the hotel to shower and relax before dinner.  Except for just a couple times, we always had electric and running water in the hotel.  This has not been the experience in the past.  It was a blessing.  In fact, the village of Noka now has electricity.  Progress is coming…slowly!  We were not attending a revival service tonight so we had a team debrief.  Most of the talk turned to critiquing the habits, customs, and actions of the local people.  As I listened, I found myself being judgmental of the others’ comments.  Talk about a hypocrite!  I shared with the team on the first night that this has been the most difficult trip I have ever led.  Yet I believe I’m better for it.  I’m glad for the lessons learned, and I pray that I won’t need to relearn them.  Being judgmental is one of them.

Friday 13 November  (Yikes!)

Today is the day.  We meet with the village council this morning.  The whole purpose of the trip occurs today.  Taking the information gathered from the physical exams, the nurses on the team determined three health problems that occurred in numerous children.  We intend to present these findings to the village council and propose possible solutions.  The mission trip will be a success if they respond positively and accept responsibility for implementing the solutions.  But before this meeting, we need to go to the market to buy head scarves.  The ladies wanted to have the local women show them how to tie the scarves.  Then the ladies would wear the scarves to the revival services tonight.  I underestimated the importance of shopping on this trip.  Eleven members of the council were there as well as a number of people from Noka.  One of the nurses shared three positive things seen in the children: respectful, well nourished, and happy & secure.  Then she shared three things that caused concern: wounds on the feet, infected skin wounds, and breathing difficulties.  We paused here to allow the council to respond.  They asked great questions, requested further explanation, and were very engaged.  Things were going great.  But the village chief could not attend.  I was concerned if any kind of decisions or commitment could be reached.  The nurse then did a great job explaining three things that could be done to help prevent these conditions.  As she spoke, another nurse wrote bullet points on poster-size paper for all to see.  We left all our information with them.  Some of the council members can speak English, and finding someone in the village to read English would not be a problem.  Again, there was great interaction and focus.  One of the methods of prevention was to have the children wear shoes.  A father who lived in the village stood and explained that he was barely able to earn enough money to provide food for his family.  He could not afford shoes.  Several people nodded their heads in agreement.  I assumed that getting shoes for the children would not be something the village would try to do.  A rather long discussion followed, in their tribal language.  Bits and pieces were interpreted for us.  The summary is this – A council member said that the village should start a shoe fund to help buy shoes for children.  Many agreed.  Another man stood and said that he did not want this to be just talk.  He pulled five Cedis (about $3.50 – a little over a day’s wage) from his pocket and said he was making the first contribution to the fund.  A basket was passed around, a treasurer and overseer appointed, and the fund was instantly operational.  I was ecstatic!  This response exceeded my dreams.  Truly Noka showed us that they were a village of action.  A council member said that they would do the things needed to help their children.  “When you return, we will show you healthier children.”  I then showed the council a world map and then a map of Ghana.  They seemed fascinated by both.  I then explained that I am asking the members of the church in Noka to make a map of their village.  The map will be very useful as the village plans their development and as the church plans their CHE program of visiting families in the village.  A long discussion followed, it was good as far as I could tell, and we concluded the meeting by presenting gifts to the leaders of the church and village.  The gifts were mainly personal hygiene items like soap, toothpaste, lotions, etc.  We went back to the hotel for lunch and packing.  Four ladies went back to Noka to visit and look around some more.  Immediately after the revival we drove back to the capital of Ghana, Accra.  We went to the guest house and went to sleep.   I don’t think I set my alarm!

Saturday 14 November

We went to the market from 11:30am to 4:00pm.  The market is quite an experience.  The vendors are quite aggressive, and can be irritating after a couple hours of tugging, yelling, and shoving things in your face.  It was kind of like a feeding frenzy.  One lady ran out of money and ended up trading her watch for something.  There was a lot of money spent.  On the way back to the guesthouse, we stopped at a hardware store to buy machetes and at a snack stand to buy crackers.  The crackers were packaged in red, white, and blue wrapping with a picture of President Obama on the front.  They were called “Obama Biscuits”.    We had a smooth check-in and departure at the airport.

Sunday 15 November

The flights all went without a hitch.  The team arrived in what seemed to be good spirits; it’s always good to get home.  And I headed to Bob Evans for my traditional re-entry meal of turkey, dressing, mashed potatoes, and ice-cold water.

Isn’t it time our past will stop trying to prevent a better future?

Seth Godin writes:

You don’t charge the search engines to send people to articles on your site, you pay them.

Maybe Murdoch should learn from others how to re-invent his business model. Maybe we all will. Trying to resist is just futile. Hopefully, he wouldn’t be able to do it (link in Hebrew).

Elad

Narrative tenses are those tenses we talk to about the past, i. e., Past Simple, Past Continuous, Past Perfect simple and Past Perfect Continuous.

If you want to know how and when you can use them, just check the presentation below.

I too attended the ritzy high school in an extremely wealthy part of town.  You know when you’re watching television and a rap video comes on and all you see are rows of fancy cars, Louis Vuitton and cold Dom Perignon overflowing a $5,000 champagne flute?  That was what it felt like walking into my high school.

 School wasn’t a responsibility, it was a party.  You came to class to be with your friends and to make sure that the teacher marked you as present for the day.  What if you weren’t in the mood to attend class?  It was simple.  Just bring the gate guard a Chik-fi-la #1 breakfast combo and drive out of the parking lot.  On the weekends, it was all about letting loose and playing even harder just to go back to school on Monday to do it all over again.  I was living in a fantasy world where I just didn’t care, nor did I have a reason to because everything was handed to me on a diamond encrusted platter.  My biggest concerns entailed what I was doing that weekend, who I was going to date next, and where I was attending Spring Break.

 High School finally ended and I went away to college.  I grew up a bit during this life-altering experience and realized that in order to reach any goal or dream I’d ever had, I was going to have to actually try.  During the next four years, I slaved over intricate school work, endless projects and challenging tests to earn my Bachelor’s Degree.  It was an indescribable feeling to finally earn something that I had worked very hard for.  Although I was among the many from my high school that attended college, I was one of the few that actually finished. 

 I have been out of High School for almost six years and out of college for almost two.  When life used to be a giant playground for all who step foot into our high school, I was now running into former classmates who are in their early to mid-20’s, doing absolutely nothing with their lives.  They are now living off of their families and trust funds, dropping out of college, getting pregnant, doing drugs and/or wasting their lives away with no sense of purpose or being.  Surprising perhaps?  I thought so too at first.  But then I really began dissecting the situation at hand.  Let’s level here, wealth does not necessarily give someone class.  You can wear all of the Burberry and Michael Kors that you want but when it comes down to it, what you actually own does not give you emotional, moral and mental value.  There for, when you have had no obstacles in life and everything has been given to you without any effort on your part, you will eventually panic and in turn, fail because you have never had to try a day in your life. 

 Maybe some of my former peers felt that they would eventually take over their father’s real estate empires or other businesses and didn’t feel the need for an education.  Or perhaps they were too busy binge drinking and spending their money on hard drugs and in the haze of their young lives, didn’t realize that their future was slipping away.  Truth be told, it doesn’t matter what high school you attend, how much money your family has or if you drive a Mercedes-Benz.  What matters is if you let your environment and surroundings make you or break you.  For me, I refused to go under without putting up a fight.  I would not allow this “bubble” that I was living in break me.  I drove through the speed bumps and potholes on this road called life and remained true to myself.  I didn’t want to see myself struggle although close ones around me were crumbling.  The funny thing about this town is it will either make you or break you.  If you let it eat you alive, it surely will.  The one imperative thing to remember is you deserve a fighting chance, so don’t give up so easily.  Do not take the road that requires the least amount of work.  Choose to be something.  Break through world of gumdrops and designer dresses and put your life into perspective.  What is really important…material things with a makeshift fantastical life or a person to be proud of and a life worth living?

I chose a life worth living.