Re-blogging this from Daily Echo resulted in ugly formatting of a beautiful piece of writing – in sincerest request for forgiveness from those affected – I present you with the “Healer’s Prayer” from the book, Healer’s Journey, by Chris Kaye . – – – Pass It On
Teach me how to laugh; mother, sister, daughter, friend That I may keep the joy within to share with those that have no joy of their own.
Teach me how to weep; that I may understand their pain.
Teach me how to live; mother, sister, daughter, friend That I may know the light that shines That I may use it to see truly others’ souls. Teach me how to die; that I may no-longer fear the darkness.
Teach me how to give; mother, sister, daughter, friend That I may help those in need That I may leave all selfish thoughts behind me. Teach me to receive; that I may survive.
Teach me how to love; mother, sister, daughter, friend That I may grow in spirit and, in my turn, teach others to love. Teach me how to hate; that I may never be tempted to.
I’m old enough to remember life before credit/debit cards. My earliest memory of credit was running a tab at your local business and paying at the end of the month or writing a check against a loan you took out at the bank.
My ‘credit score’ when I started my adult life consisted of community knowledge regarding who my parents were, where I worked and the belief that if my family borrowed, they paid it back.
I also remember the decade or more of consistent bombardment regarding how our money system was evolving towards a completely electronic one. All the benefits of an electronic banking system were touted, ad nauseam:
“It’s safer and cheaper than writing a check or paying cash” and “Electronic is good for the environment – less paper use” are two of the promises I most remember.
As with most other things, there is no free lunch. Money saved from laborious processes and paper-handling has enriched owners/investors in credit companies, not saved money for the average merchant or consumer.
Those who have weathered life’s storms but took longer than usual to bounce back from their traumas are seen as irresponsible and unworthy of any future benefits.
Identity theft, hacking, phishing and other Modern Day Bandit methods have replaced good ole’ burglary, larceny and fraud by selling snake oil.
Per-sweep charges, transaction charges and merchant account fees mean higher overall prices for everyone, including those who pay cash, who do not reap Point Rewards and are usually the ones with the least amount of disposable income to squander on built-in transaction fees.
I also find it interesting that in a time when the nation is full of “We must get out of debt – personally and nationally”, the news, op eds and blogs are filled with outrage over banks and credit card companies raising their rates and fees.
If we are all striving to be debt free and doing our best not to incur new debt, they have to make money some way other than interest on loans – why do raised fees surprise us?
Our credit score now determines not only if we are worthy of getting a new home or car, but whether we can qualify for required vehicle insurance, health insurance, nab that interview, new job or even if we are good enough to date, let alone marry.
In other words, those who thought the birth of the Social Security System and their assigned number was the “Mark of the Beast” from biblical Revelations were wrong –
666 actually refers to your credit score. It affects where you live, what you can buy, whether you work or not. It can block you from reasonably priced products that are required by law (vehicle insurance) and you may only be a law abiding citizen if you can afford it.
Should we choose to abolish cash to adopt a fully electronic banking system, using the system as it exists today – Financial Armageddon is not far behind for anyone.
Took the child unit to school this morning – scolded the dog for barking at the trash truck as we were leaving and again when I returned home, as it was just rounding out the block and was hasted along in leaving our neighborhood by loud, indignant barking.
“Hush – Hush!, I say. That trash truck will be coming every week ’til hell freezes over – you’re just wasting your time barking at it. You barking does about as much good as me howling at the moon. Stop it,” I say.
I pause, stunned by a realization – I do howl at the moon and sometimes it does make a difference – not to the moon or sky – but to me. (and possibly my neighbors, but not in a good way.)
I howl at the moon in desperation and grief. I howl at the moon because I feel safe in my outrage, certain no terrible consequences will come from slinging a bit of inside angst out towards it’s radiance – surely, the punch has lost it’s kick by the time it travels 238,857 miles?
I’ve sat quietly pondering the Universe, stars and moon and when the thoughts of my life’s travails have whipped me into a frenzy, I howl at the moon my heartbreak.
Maybe my dog does need to bark. Maybe it’s not just her protective streak, rather she barks at the garbage man instead of ripping my throat out because I again chose to work through lunch instead of taking her for a walk – –
This past week’s warm weather got me to thinking just maybe I could start some preliminary projects in my yard. A nice little visit from the creeping crud these past two days laid me flat, bemoaning my illness while lying on the couch, when I could have been outside doing something. Apparently, Mother Nature, in all her fine wisdom, kept me down, so some half finished garden bed or upturned rake wasn’t hidden by her blanket of snow.
This morning I awoke to a frisky, wet dog and a call informing me of a two-hour school delay – with the excruciating back and headache pain of the past few days gone, I ran outside to see, thank goodness, inches of white gently laid o’er everything. A beautiful snow that wasn’t coming at us sideways. It put me in the Christmas Spirit all over again.
The child unit returned to sleep in gratitude for at least a late start – silently praying for a full snow day.
I sip my tea and thank the heavens for the moisture we so desperately need.
All is right with the world and sometimes, prayers are answered.
That’s my motto. After visiting so many blogs these past few days, I realized my minimalist theme was not the prettiest thing around. So into Themes section I travel this morning to prettify my place. (I don’t know if my cyber neighbors have complained about my shabbiness or not…)
I finally settled on a theme, with some pretty little doo-hickeys near sub-titles and readable font. Uploaded 14 different sized versions of a mountain photo for the background and now, I’m tired of playing with graphics. So my current look will need to do for the next 3-4 years – I’m yearning to write.
You may wonder why I offer to build websites for small businesses when my graphic artist skills are so near the bottom percentile. I do, simply because if they’re okay with a simple look and great content at rock-bottom prices, then I’m their gal. (As far as art is concerned, it is true you get what you pay for…)
(I’ve also gotten fairly good at CSS set-up, so if they decide to hire a true artist to upgrade their website, at least the upgrade will go smoothly and quickly. CSS is a true Functionality first concept, IMHO)
Perhaps my yang/male side is stronger than it should be. Case in point, when I first knew I was getting my new house, all the women in my circle were so happy for me and wanting to stop by and see the place, offering me second-hand furniture, dust-catchers (aka knick-knacks), pillows and offers of painting equipment. I just smiled and murmured, “Thank you, but it’s fine for now.”
But let the hubbies of those gals tag along and I’m running all over, blabbing away – “Don’t you think it’d be better to put a metal roof on and update the wiring before installing the solar array? I mean, why touch something twice?” And, “See this here? If I build a rammed earth tire raised bed here, it will help with retaining heat on the south side of the house during winter and I can build that retractable cold frame I showed you the other day.”
I wish my dad were here – he’d help me install floors and walls that allowed clean-up via a power washer….
Years ago, one of my best friends and colleagues was a web designer/graphic artist. We once designed, built and slapped up 5 pages of content for a new site in 3 hours.
She did all the pretty stuff, I did all the functional.
It was wonderful to play to my strengths and let someone else mess with what I sucked at. She thought the same and the only time we argued, it always went something like this:
“Andrea, the glow on the sun ray is fine – it looks beautiful – can we move on now, please?”
“Tamrah, that’s enough content – we’re telling them why this web design company is great – not how to build their own.”
It’s hard to deny your perfection streak when you love doing something so much.
It’s been years since we worked together. I sure do miss her Prettifying my (dys)Functionality.