Christmas – Fa La La La Laaaaaa

My first recollection of Christmas is me at four years of age stuck in bed with the chicken pox; I am isolated from my family due to an infant sister that needed to be protected from illness: my mother is standing at a distance from me in the doorway of my room holding up a beautiful doll that Santa Claus had brought me… I was told, that morning, that I could hold my new doll as soon as I was well, in a couple of weeks. I don’t recall wanting the doll too much at that point as I itched and my hands had been ensconced in socks to keep me from scratching the pox. After that, all memories deal with the music of the season, which of course is much happier.

Music is meant to make us feel our souls. It is meant to cause us to reflect, refine and remember. And, this is especially so at Christmas time. These timely tunes announce the anticipation of the season; they keep us smiling. At least they keep me smiling… I don’t work in a department store where one hears the very same songs and the very same arrangements rolling through in the same painful pattern. Also the music, as I am listening to it, is not coupled with the harassment of customers nor is it intoned with the pain of being on my feet and working overtime. No, for me music is a deep friend found somewhere in my soul. And Christmas music, from the sacred to the secular, is always welcome… Well, almost all of them. There are a few that drive me sort of bonkers…

Remember a song from long ago sung by a child-like voice…
“I’m gettin’ nothin’ for Christmas… Mommy and Daddy are mad!
I’m gettin’ nothing’ for Christmas… ‘Cause I ain’t been nothing’ but bad!”

And then that song continues with a litany of sins, which most good children would never even consider, let alone do. This is the child from hell; by the time I’ve heard this particular song a few times, I can’t change the music or leave the house fast enough.

My station of choice starts with the sort of nauseating tunes of Christmas music, and then gradually moves through to more peaceful or playful selections. Listening to radio has always been a crap-shoot, so I am at least happy that I know what’s going to happen throughout the day with this station.

Around eleven o’clock the dogs barking Jingle Bells, the chipmunks being led by a human through Christmas songs, and the little girl spying on Santa and her mommy as they kiss, have drifted away. (Thank God!) The seasonal arrangements of Bing Crosby, Rosemary CLooney, Julie Andrews, and Michael Buble take over. They sing the classics that we know so well and that many of us grew up singing as we caroled from house to house with our friends and family. Yes, I sing along! And while I do this, it had been shocking to discover that most of these traditional songs are not recognizable to children today. My own students, as I present these carols to play (or sing) for the season, have no idea what “Hark the Hearld Angels Sing” is, nor do they recognize “The First Noel.” I went through a long list of traditional songs including favorite Jewish songs of the season and, no… They didn’t know any of them. (And to close this bit of information, add to that Handel’s Messiah!) Nope, the didn’t know any of them.

For years as a music teacher in schools across the country I presented many songs of different faiths throughout the year for them to sing and learn about the way others live. But the complaining of a few now makes everyone become ignorant; our government (thanks to these few) has chosen to steal this from our children’s educational experience instead of embracing what could be a bonding of life. We have run away from our human wealth and become like the ostrich, as our governmental heads made laws that stick our heads in the sand. We do what our ancestors would be ashamed of! We run from what is different or displeasing to a few’s singular conception and we force this ignorant abandonment on our children’s education. Yes. I am passionate about this. I believe that all have a right to know and to learn and that includes the subject of music.

We each of us can only live for ourselves, but it is up to each of us to teach and not to foster prejudice and ignorance. We have chosen to eradicate certain music at this season out of fear… That what? It might turn a child into a Jew or Christian or a Muslim? Teachers present facts and the presence of life; they do not sway children from their family beliefs. Teachers give education to help children know as much well-rounded information to make good choices, and become good citizens. The rest is up to Mom and Dad; and if they can’t step up to the plate and learn with their children, then there in lies the ignorance and the rub. If we don’t want our children to make their own intelligent choices, then we should choose to live in a different place. Atheists and others of different beliefs from Christianity and Judaism are not entitled to force the music teacher(s) to turn his/her head away from the diversity of song. This is part of our American education. And, this seems to have started with our Christmas season and spread to other times of the year. We are little by little eradicating our own heritage, the right to know and to choose… Just stick our heads in the sand and hide from this part of our history.

More power to private schools that embrace what I am saying, and who are not bound by foolish governing, which now has forced public school music teachers to turn away from giving a complete education at this holiday season.

While I continue to listen daily to my little radio station, I encourage you to listen to this music in your cars, in your homes, and yes in the concert halls. Christmas music is a very big part of our American history and our heritage. It is meant to remind us of love, of sharing good food and shelter with others. It is meant to fill us with laughter when the day sucks, to take us to our souls where joy lives in the innocence we all once embraced as children. Listen! “Do you hear what I hear…” That’s what the song says. Listen… To your children, to each other, to yourself, to the silence, to the music of it all.

There is one song I look forward to hearing every day more than any of the others, and it embraces what I’m trying to say:

“My Grown Up Christmas Wish” (Lyrics by Kelly Clarkson)

Do you remember me
I sat upon your knee
I wrote to you with childhood fantasies.

Well, I’m all grown up now;
And still need help somehow.
I’m not a child;
but my heart still can dream.

So here’s my lifelong wish,
My grown up Christmas list.
Not for myself
but for a world in need…

No more lives torn apart,
That wars would never start,
And time would heal all hearts.
And everyone would have a friend,
And right would always win,
And love would never end.
This is my grown up Christmas list.

As children we believed
The grandest sight to see
Was something lovely
Wrapped beneath a tree.

Well, heaven only knows
That packages and bows,
Can never heal
A hurting human soul.

No more lives torn apart,
That wars would never start,
And time would heal all hearts,
And everyone would have a friend,
And right would always win,
And love would never end.
This is my grown up Christmas list.

What is this illusion called the innocence of youth?
Maybe only in our blind belief can we ever find the truth.
(There’d by)
No more lives torn apart
And wars would never start,
And time would heal all hearts.
And everyone would have a friend,
And right would always win,
And love would never end, oh…
This is my grown up Christmas list.
This is my only life long wish,
This is my grown up Christmas list…

“Thank you Kelly!”

Whatever your beliefs, is this not a beautiful thought, these lyrics? May we each of us find joy in the music of this season; may we share the knowledge of it with our children; and may the chicken pox ignore your house!

Best… Carolyn Thomas Temple

Here I Am

And they’re off! Running ninety miles an hour, talking on cell phones as they walk… (Oh! Did he bump into you? “Sorry… Why were you there?”) It’s that time of year when everyone goes crazy buying, eating, moving, talking; and we are all supposed to be of good cheer. How, I ask you?

“Peace. Good will toward Man.” This is not easily found in a fast pace while only your personal needs are considered. It is found in the simpler things of life, the mask of helpfulness with the salt of caring for and with others.

Today, a lovely gentleman, who has cared for the family yard for many years, came to work after a long and difficult battle with leukemia. When this illness was first discovered, he told us of his coming battle and said, “… but don’t worry about the garden… My son will come and care for it while I am away.” He had no thought to himself at that moment, only concern that the yards, his work, his responsibilities to others were in place. He knew he had to slow down to get well, but he was quickly trying to put it in place so that in his absence, he could actually rest and recover and let go of the rest. As I watched him return to his duties today (he’d been gone for months), Hubby and I could both see a new man, a strong man, a healthy one. It is a lesson to remember, yes? Fast pace is not as important as listening to our own body, the house in which we each live.

I like many, have a tendency to let all that rushing suck me into the vortex of stress that is its M.O. Even now, I am writing and thinking of my daily chores, other articles that need to be tweaked and edited, and the house that is not completely cleaned… I’m hurting in the thoughts of it. Too much! I need the letting go!

So in this short missive, I am reminding myself (first) and all the rest of us, that the peace of letting go needs to be a part of our holiday spirit. Life has become way to “immediate” and complicated. It moves at a rocket’s pace that eventually ends in failure, if we do not stop to rest and, as they say, smell the roses.

Have a good holiday tomorrow and an easier pace into Black Friday. Help each other, please, to stop and rest now and again. Help with the work and the chores, not just the eating and the visiting; that way everyone can take a peaceful break. Give your hands and your back to those working around you, give your heart when you do it… And go slow! We don’t have to go looking for the fast pace… It shows up all by itself!

From me, to you… May your holidays be filled with many blessings!

Best… Carolyn Thomas Temple

Hi!

I am married to a reasonable, capable, intelligent, God fearing, and loving person. Are you? I know… Big question. And on most days, you’d probably be touting their numerous gifts and talents. That said, don’t you find that every once in a while, (whether it’s your fault or theirs or both) you wonder why they can’t understand what you’re trying to communicate?

Yeah! That’s what I’m talking about! Those moments when you’re using the same vocabulary you’ve used every day but suddenly he (or she) is staring at you after a litany of explanation as if you didn’t even speak. And the exasperation from that can exist on many levels. For me at least… I rummage through such non-logical thoughts as “If I seriously injure him, he won’t be able to take out the trash tomorrow.”

The inability to communicate is more than the lack of understanding. It’s the thought that all the effort was for naught; and now, if one really wants to get that good response, a new way to communicate must be found. Personally, I’ve never found physical efforts to be effective. But recently I made a discovery that I’d like to pass on to you.

Here’s the scenario: Hubby and I were loading up to leave for a trip. As usual Hubby was wanting everything packed his way, and this particular morning it was not going his way. I could see that he needed to slow down. He had it all planned very well, but he was rushing around and not thinking straight, which happens to us all… We are trying to do too many thing at one time.

I tried to speak to him, to get him to slow down, and he just blew me off. I tried a second time and same result. So, I backed into a wall and pulled him over where he couldn’t move. I just smiled at him and said, “Hi.” He fussed but I didn’t relent. I held on tight, and repeated (as I looked into his eyes smiling) “Hi.” He stopped fussing and looked at me, like he didn’t quit know what to do with this and where was this going. I repeated a third time, “Hi.” He calmed down, and quickly the ranting raving lunatic was gone; there was Hubby smiling back and saying to me, “Hi.” Yes, we were a little behind schedule but everything went well from that moment…. No more ranting.

I’ve had my moments when I needed someone to just take me by the shoulders and say, “Hi.” I guess we all have. The point is, that this temporary lack of communication seems to often be the need to slow down, or to rest. (Yeah, I know… This from me, Queen of Workaholics.) Sometimes getting things done isn’t as important as loving the person you’re with. So if you’re the reader who is running crazy with too many projects… This, from me: “Hi.”

May you find peace and quiet with loved ones in every day.

Best… Carolyn Thomas Temple

The Hair Cut

These past twelve days I have been almost violently ill from a severe allergic reaction to dust and dust mites. Oh, I’ve always been allergic to these little buggers but now that I live in Arizona… In the Valley of the Sun… this allergy has gone to a whole new level. When the wind blows mightily or one of our infamous dust storms hits us, I no longer have an allergic reaction; I pop a full blown infection. Realizing this, the medical profession has called for changes I’d not expected; and while they will make me a healthier woman, these changes are not easy to accept after years of living a way I can no longer live.

The changes have ranged from completely washing down every wall, every piece of wood and glass in my house to the addition of washing all of the floors, bedding, pillows, and picture frames. This pretty much describes my regiment for Spring cleaning, which once took place in April or May but now, is a weekly and even daily event in my home.

Now we must pause here a moment to make this insert… Since I had to wash everything (did I say baseboards as well?) I decided to up the ante and rearrange all of the furniture in the house… Something Hubby likes, but doesn’t. (He is happy to have it finished, yet does not care for the chaios it creates for the interim. God bless him for not throwing me into the street… Instead he sucks it and helps me get through it!) I mention this event because while this is extremely tedious for me, my new health issue has also impacted the man in my life! He deserves written credit for being the stand-up guy that I call Hubby.

Okay… That’s one change. Another is washing my hair every single day to remove any dust that may have landed there throughout a twenty-four period. And yet, as I faithfully washed and washed, another change came to pass: I must now cut my hair!

If you’re a man reading this, maybe you’re laughing. So, let me just say that, separating a woman from her hair would be like taking away your car or your TV remote! So if you’re laughing, just cut that out right now.

This hair cut exists on several levels…. I have not had short hair very often in my life… And after the deed was done, I have very quickly vowed to never do it again! So here I am cutting it but this time, and for as long as I live in the dusty state of Arizona, I must have this very short hair-do. Argh!

Today at 10:00 MST my hair was cut. I thought I would cry as I gazed at my lifeless tresses lying all about on the floor of the salon. I was pathetic in my thought and demeanor. In fact in my mind, the entire event was pathetic. Every woman who gathered round to see the finished product told me that basically I did not look like the “pin head on an over-sized body” that I was sure I resembled. Yes friends, I was making a change in my life and this first cut was very uncomfortable.

My neck is now barren and deeply accessible. My eyes look bigger than Betty Boop’s head on her classic body. Maybe these are the good things. Who knows and time will tell. All I can say for sure is that in just this one day, my eyes and nose no longer itch and the rash on my face is already gone. So it truly is something I had to do, yes? But the perception of Self is seriously working to accept this “boy’s do.” I pass a mirror and can’t find myself in the drastically changed persona. Time is on my side and patience is my friend as I become a new face, because the one in the upper right hand corner of my blog is gone.

Change is all around us as we travel through our lives. I know a person who told me that choosing to do a wrong thing for selfish reasons had riddled said person with guilt and agony; but after choosing it again and again, it became a comfortable habit to live wrongly. I recall thinking to myself as those words poured out of this person’s mouth, that making bad choices can be changed to good if we but reverse the process and let that better choice be awkward for a time until that healthy one settles into us… Thus we save ourselves, yes?

We have to change in order to mature. That’s a given. We also have to count the cost when making that change. And, while my change has no way of ever going back to who I saw in the mirror yesterday, I know that (having thought it through) I am still ME in my heart of hearts; so, I myself never went away. And, neither do others go away who make changes in their lives which feel good and are thought through. We each of us can concentrate on the improvement of who we are at the core of ourselves… We move forward toward the addition of renewed grace and growth within.

May your changes come carefully to you, and draw you to a better place each day. Oh. And, this hair? Give me a while to get use to it and I’ll post a different photo.

Best… Carolyn Thomas Temple

We Will Not Forget, Or Will We

Yes, it was quite a Sunday wasn’t it? Beautiful tributes across the country to visit personally, or to observe via the Internet or television broadcast. A celebration of new life after deep loss. I myself attended the offering presented in Tempe, AZ. which exhibited flags posted, one for every person who did that day in the fall of the WTC collapse, the attack on the Pentagon, or in the crash that was bravely diverted from hitting our nation’s capitol building. Attached to each flag was the name of one of those individuals and a little something about them, including the site at which they died. Taps was played periodically in classic fashion. But additionally remarkable to this writer, was the fact that this offering lay smack in the middle of the flight pattern leaving Sky Harbor Air Port! The plans flew directly overhead all day long, adding a third dimension of thought to this very moving and beautiful tribute to tragedy and new life in our precious country.

We most certainly remembered! And we will continue to remember as these permanent sites bring the loss and renewal and commitment to mind in the hearts of the American people.

Or will we? I waited to write the rest of this until today because, we each of us needed our thoughts and time to value the personal meaning of pain and void. And those “9/11 families” (whose lives will never be the same) needed to be first and foremost on Sunday. And we did, all of us, value it, respect it, pray for this country and for the continued expansion and unity of the American Spirit.

I hope these monuments do not end up being set aside. They are not just monuments to the dead, the lost growth of this country. They are a reminder that we can no longer afford to be the sleeping giant. We must be vigilant.

I can’t help but think of the attack on Pearl Harbor where we said we would remember this day… “A day that will live in infamy,” our then president said. And yet Pearl Harbor Day is not remembered that way. We make movies to depict the pain and watch them munching popcorn. We make it a vacation destination with our families and then move on to whatever’s next on the list. We have not remembered it as “a day that will live in infamy” at all… We memorialized it and moved on to whatever came next.

My grandparents and my parents remembered but as those generations have died and gone to God, we have not taken the lesson to heart. So I ask you, when we’ve said, “We Will Remember,” how long will these words last before our children and their children do the same thing with 9/11 that everyone did to Pearl Harbor Day?

We have a chance to make it right. We have an opportunity to change history by actually doing what we say we will do for the sake of our country and for those who get it now, but will also go to God taking the reality of 9/11 with them. We must continually help our children and their children, and then their children to understand what truly happened. We got caught with our pants down and paid a terrible price. Let’s hope we don’t ever do that again. We must repeatedly teach our children that life is precious and not something to take for granted. Lessons must be learned.

May we all of us protect our people through prayer, memory, active respect, and teaching the same to our children continually… The key word: Continually. Let us truly strive eternally to remember.

Best… Carolyn Thomas Temple

The Big D

Do you like roller coasters? When you go to an amusement park, do you immediately head for a roller coaster? Whether yes or no is your answer, I’d have to say from me you’d hear a huge and resounding “No way.” I don’t want anything in my playtime to go up and down while it shakes me this way and that. I think I feel that way because all that shake-up reminds me too much of real life, which is always taking this family for an unexpected ride that feels like a roller coaster. That said for me, those rides are usually a bearable thing. I can hang on throughout the excitement, and look forward to the easier time. But when I play, I don’t want all that excitement. Yet, there are times though, in our real life adventure, when life turns out to be more than “all that excitement.” It is the dull pounding experience of depression.

Call it the blues (if it’s a mild case) or clinical depression (if it’s more advanced)… It still boils down to a slow ride to nowhere, which begins with fatigue. We’re tired of the same ole thing, or we’re tired of not getting where we want to go when we work so very hard, or we’re tired of listening to the same ole patter from a friend. We’re tired! And maybe we just need sleep! Depression is the result of something either being constantly too much or constantly not enough. (There is also that kind of depression that can result from a young person passing into/through puberty where blood levels changing can cause depression as a result of improper chemistry; but for our part today, we will not consider this.)

Have I been there with the Big D? Yes… From my perspective, I grew up with an ability to listen to others and learn through life situations. Oh I still felt the pain but, I have these genes in my family that don’t let me lie down or let life over-take me; as my grandmother was fond of saying, “We rise to the occasion.” For better or for worse, these are my people… My father was a fighter; my two grandmothers were the same kind of person. For my brother, it was always a scientific experience.

What a beautiful thing it was to watch my brother capture the skill to fight his own depression. First he dealt with the symptoms and listed what he experienced inside of himself. Then, after writing them down he committed the symptoms to memory; and, he personally noted in Self and others when his symptoms appeared. He noted how many times they appeared in each of his friends, what was happening at the moment of noted depression, and how it progressed in him.

Do you recognize the Scientific Method? Those are the six steps, which are taught to science students around seventh grade, but which most of us forget… Yet he remembered and used them to help himself in life. (Isn’t that, after all, what education is for? To help us live? How many times have you heard someone say, “I didn’t learn a thing in school,” when all along they themselves were stubbornly and perhaps arrogantly refusing to use the knowledge and instead stumble alone on their own?)

In case you don’t remember, the Scientific Method consists of these steps:
Ask questions
Do background research (to answer your questions)
Construct a hypothesis
Test the hypothesis
Analyze your data and draw a conclusion
Communicate the results

So I had observed my brother asking questions and doing background research… And, one day while out on a walk he announced to me that some people have allowed in their lives such a strong and unique habit of being unhappy, that he concluded they found happiness in the scenario of unhappiness. Ergo, they had actually begun to enjoy their pain at some sick level. Intriguing, yes?

His hypothesis was this… Happiness cannot be found in an oxymoron; therefore happiness must be sought out in actively pursuing a positive path rather than the previously mentioned destructive one. And this, he did. He constructed a path to test his hypothesis by noting his own symptoms and pursuing positive choices to counter act it, one symptom at a time.

Fatigue was the first and foremost symptom. When he was tired, he slept. The result was positive. Second came the affect of sound. Too much sound appeared to increase or at least, not allow depression to dissipate. Then, together we concurred that the radio, TV, and phone (and today we would add Internet/computer, cell phones, ipads, ipods, and any other modern technology) must be eliminated by turning them all off and being either alone in a quiet room uninterrupted or outside away from people and conversation in nature. This also had a positive response. Another was talking… Which meant to either calm down enough to only listen or to periodically remove conversation and people from life altogether (for a brief period). Continuing, we agreed that food also made a huge difference: No sugar, at all! Eliminating sugar and replacing it with plenty of water coupled with healthy food like vegetables and fruits that are balanced with a healthy dose of protein was key to better mental health.

All analysis of data and our conclusions led us to believe that holding on to happiness seemed to be a healthy choice of pro-active living. Happiness is not altogether a destination; rather, it is a choice, which we ourselves must make. And, happiness (more than not) leads to the dismissal of depression.

To recap, we must (when depression or the blues are an issue) examine our symptoms, research for positive action, construct a plan and test it, and in the end we must come to a conclusion as to how we treat the symptoms. Did this work for my brother? Yes.

I still find myself checking out my personal path, now and again, when depression seems to be slowing me down. Am I too tired? Are there too many people and conversations in my life, too much of the wrong kind of foods? Have I a need for silence? Any of these, in any order and in any combination, appears to require a change in plans to regain balance in life.

While these were my brother’s and my conclusions, mine extended in an additional direction. I found for myself that if I was still feeling the blues after health issues were addressed (healthy issues being sleep, proper food, solitude, etc.) then I might need to do something that soothed my soul. For myself, that would be music. Shakespeare said that “Music hath the power to sooth the savage beast.” And well it does! I can sing or play the piano and find happiness. I can hear music and find it as well. I can even find it by attending a concert, and experience the music with others who also enjoy it. But be careful… If your happy activity can become an addiction, then it will do you no good! Addictions kill from the inside out.

Men and women have turned to drugs, sexual activity, and alcohol for their happy place and that doesn’t last. Keep in mind that an activity that has to be repeated time and time again to keep you happy has become an addiction and also a severe symptom of the greater problem, which is the depression. If you or I were to find this hypothesis to ring true, then professional help is the next order of business, to retrieve Self and a happy life.

Ever watch someone self-destruct through depression and addiction? It is a terrible experience for both the person who is ill and those who love him/her. Intervention is sometimes necessary to stop this stubborn person who is going down the sewer. Intervention is reportedly best with several men and women present who deeply care about the perspective patient. And, we are all of us often guilty of running away because the person is ugly in their illness and subsequent addiction(s). Instead, we all must steal ourselves to be steady with either that afore said help and/or prayer for the end of the illness in a successful venue. If you can’t take that stubbornly sick person through intervention, pray for help to find others who CAN.

My brother had no addictions in his depression. And, while he might have a setback now and again, he was able to heal himself through changes that took him to a healthy and happy place. I have known those who have sunk into addictions and some who actually attempted suicide (the ugliest of all symptoms of depression). If you know anyone or you yourself are even remotely aware of an addiction (perhaps someone has suggested that you have an addiction), I carefully and lovingly encourage you to seek professional help before your life is taken from you through jail sentences, family that don’t or can’t understand and might ultimately leave you alone to your losses, or God forbid you consider taking your own life. These are not solutions! Keep in mind that people LOVE you, that you are lovable; and, that you must above all, respect yourself enough to get help!

I hope this piece has been informative, especially to the person who requested that I write it. Coming from a perspective of knowing many who have been at both extremes (blues, to suicide attempts and addictions), I wish you all a healthy and happy life through prayerful and positive living. Nobody has to be alone… May you find the sunshine instead of the constant rain of doom and gloom.

Best… Carolyn Thomas Temple

The Open Road

My two week vacation… The luggage was packed, the bottled water sat in the front of the car awaiting the next step. So I got into the car, added the seat belt across my body and turned the key. Yes, it was time to turn out onto the freeway and head into traffic once again.

I love to drive… To get behind the wheel and roll across the land, like I’m some warrior princess who needs to conquer a new world. When I left home I was so happy to be gone and heading East on I-40 that I pulled off the freeway and cried right out loud. It’s always so beautiful… The scenery, the open air, the sky just like a canvas that carried me to the next adventure. Even after the tears were dried, it took a while to calm down and drive like it wasn’t the first trip I’d ever taken behind the wheel.

No, it wasn’t the first trip… That was years ago when, I was twenty-one years old and driving a little VW Bug from Arizona to Ohio, where I was invited to come and live and marry a young Ohio man. Twenty-one thousand miles. I had no fear… two young and dumb to be afraid. With nearly everything I owned piled into the back of that car, I struck out to start my new life with soon-to-be Hubby. And, while we made a good life, even now I still love to strike out in some well oiled vehicle, to travel and drive my car!

I meet wonderful people wherever I stop along the way on my trips. Just before I left the state of Arizona this recent trip, I pulled off the road to gas up the SUV once again. It was a truck stop that’s been outside of Winslow, Arizona for a very long time. The gas pumps didn’t work all that great; so when my pump needed a nudge from an attendant, someone was out there to help as soon as the problem presented itself… He was a nice man with a broad smile who just wanted me to get what I needed. (“So everything’s okay now? These old pumps don’t always deliver without a punch in the side.” With that, he left me to fill my tank.) So I’m just standing there gassing my steed and up pops a good looking Latino man grinning ear to ear. And, out of the blue we’re discussing his wife’s vehicle which happens to be the same as mine… It was clear he loved his wife as he told me the story of working to buy her this very same vehicle which she herself picked out and loved. Nice people, each time I head out on a long trip. They’re either saving my bacon or making polite kind conversation.

There is one trip that was not filled with the afore said. We all know not to drive when we’re upset and that’s an important statement. But I recall a few years ago when I needed to find peace, and peace was hard to come by. My mother’s Christmas visit had quickly become a very necessary and permanent stay. This alone was so frustrating for Mom, and she felt so betrayed by her doctors, who told her eldest daughter that “living alone in her own home was no longer an option.” My mother was going to have to leave the last home that she shared with my dad.

One health issue after another attacked Mom’s tiny frame until one night, after she went to bed and was sleeping soundly, I found myself getting no sleep at all. I tossed and turned; and after praying away my problems at three in the morning, I at last climbed out of bed, slipped into my Levi jeans, sweatshirt and tennies… I grabbed those car keys and at three in the morning without telling anyone I revved up my ole buddy and hit the open road.

I drove with no radio, with nothing on my mind but the open road and the stars above me, for maybe an hour. There was no hurry, most cars passed me. Down one block and then another, then around the corner and out onto the freeway for a while. It was good to drive; I could just feel the road and not be responsible for every issue that wasn’t going well. (I hadn’t wanted my mother’s life to go the way it did, and I was the only one around who was going to help her. She needed someone who loved her very much, to whom she could get mad and rail when the world was handing her a bum deal. Truly, she needed someone to help her finish her life and she was not liking it at all. So I did the best I could with my mouth shut and my arms open to her. Isn’t that what you’d do?)

At last I was back in the garage and climbing down from my steed. The ride was over and had done it’s job. I was relaxed and pretty sure I’d nod off as soon as my head hit the pillow. No one even knew I was gone from our house, and ya know what? Every time I ride off into the sunset for one more vacation, I bet I think of my mom, her pain, and that moon lit jaunt at least once during my road trip.

So here’s to road warriors who ride into the sinking sun (or away from it)!
May your rides keep you relaxed and easy when life is dishing you the dirt.

Best… Carolyn Thomas Temple

The Way We Live

It seems that everyone in this day and age is consumed with worry over the recent continued loss in our economic status that is nation wide. Of course it is a concern. That said, concern is becoming something else that is also real, and not in our best interest.

This morning I received news that a friend had lost his business due to terrible economy. This good man will now have to find a way to continue to work out of his home, since his office doors are now closed. He feels tired, defeated and frustrated; and he is lashing out at those leaders who continue to try to find a solution… The solution which will come too late to save his life long business.

Fatigue from the struggle (not only for this gentleman but for many others) is becoming bitterness and resentment. This recent enemy should be to us a greater concern than the issue of no work… The reason being that when the human heart to survive is beaten down to the point where fingers are directed at this man or that, and this branch of the government and that, we-the-people have ceased to search for solutions. We have chosen instead to act emotional and this leads us away from an ability to solve our problems.

My heart goes out to the friend who recently lost his livelihood, and to others like him. (All of us are feeling this pinch at some level or another.) My hope and my prayer is that tempers will cool, frustration will ease, and good minds will once more find solutions through troubled times.

We Americans are not a weak people. We are strong and capable of facing loss with great solutions! We came here and started this great country loving God and relying on Him through our own human strength and abilities. Let us remember the history of who we are and concentrate on this, instead of laying blame on one another in our fatigue. Let us see past the evil to the good.

May your day be blessed with that good as we problem solve together.

Best… Carolyn Thomas Temple

Food For Thought

It is six o ‘clock in the morning. I’ve just eaten my complimentary “hot” hotel breakfast… Eggs, bread, sausage patty, and something that I thought was potatoes but upon taste bud examination turns out to be a poor excuse for French toast. It was…. Food. And that’s about it.

As I ate my eggs I tried to tell myself that it was tasty, and that if it didn’t taste as good as expected, then I probably was not very hungry. And there is some truth to that, for people in Africa would probably love to have the breakfast of this morning. For they have instead, nothing but swollen and extended abdomens from very real and painful starvation.

When I was a little girl I always wanted to be my daddy’s little princess. My best friend’s father always called her that but to my dad, I was not his princess. I’d think to myself back then, “Geeze, what must it be like to be a princess?” This morning I know.

A princess is one who has everything at her fingertips… nourishment, clothing, a hot bath, a roof over her head, transportation at any given moment with a choice to walk or to ride in it… And, she can turn her nose up at perfectly healthy food when it has been prepared for her.

I have all those things mentioned above, therefore I have concluded that I have been a princess all of my life without even knowing it. Plus, I have many sister princesses because I (and they) live in the most affluent country in the world. Maybe some of my fellow princesses don’t have a car, but public transportation is available and the opportunity to work and have one’s own transportation is real.

Today on the Internet, I read many thoughts from many people about how terrible our country is being run and how our government needs to get a clue and see how the rest of us are suffering. Well, certainly our lives are being affected by the changes in our economy etc. But if we really think about it, we have opportunity to change what we don’t like whereas so many others across the globe do not. And here’s a thought for us all… What if we spent more time working for a change instead of mouthing off about how pathetic our lives are… Every Ethiopian in the world would laugh at our complaints.

I have no control over the other princesses of America, just me. I can only control my own morals and ethics. I choose to give of my wealth, however meager it may be, instead of complain. I choose to (when complaints burst forth from these lips of mine) to alter my course, and do something helpful for someone else. Maybe it won’t be earth shaking, this deed that I do, but it will be giving of myself instead of wallowing in my woes.

Helping others gives health to self. Oh true, some people won’t appreciate what you did or thank you… They may just take from you and walk on, as if you and your effort are invisible. But to give of self, even to some poor bastard, still feels better than to bitch and moan about what everyone else has that I don’t possess. I may only help that selfish person once, and then move on; but I will have shown that person there is another way to live which just might be better than his (or her) way. Oh, you think that’s foolish… The good health in my heart is laughing.

Yes, the breakfast this morning was less than I wanted to eat. But I’m fed and that’s a good thing. If it wasn’t enough, perhaps it’s time to feed my soul with concern for others through thought, word, prayer, and action.

May you also find a little good food both for mind and for body.

Best… Carolyn Thomas Temple

Passing Time

Today I’ve spent the morning in the solitude of a hotel room. Not much going on in here but me hanging out until my noon meeting. Room service dropped by to end the disarray of last night. Throughout her visit, the air vent blasted cool air in the background of her conversation.

A train whistle now announces the passing of a nine o’clock locomotive. In my mind’s eye, I can picture that scene, for I am back where I grew up. Here in my little hometown, the nine o’clock train meant to me, “be at your desk in class or else.”

It’s just a little town with one movie theater, one high school, one junior college and one address that reads 902 Smithland Avenue, where I lived with my family as a child.

This little town has produced lawyers, politicians, teachers, bankers, mothers and fathers, soldiers, and oh-so-many more good people. We who now pass through this little town (and others like it) don’t always think about who comes out of Little Town, America. Sometimes we even go through life believing that every decision rises and sets on us big city folk. Actually, I think it’s just the opposite. Small towns produce big thinkers, great lovers of family and country, and just plain great common wealth. So hurrah for the small towns of America and especially this one where I now sit killing time and catching some long needed rest. Interesting that I had to land in this little place in order to sleep and cogitate.

The hotel air vent continues to push circulation about my four walls, while outside this hotel the wonderful people of this pretty little town are going about their business doing what they do best… Producing and living as good Americans.

May you encounter good people today as well.

Best… Carolyn Thomas Temple