Tuesday, August 1, 2017

"Worry andf Fear" & Day 229 CJSM


Self-inflicted (cancer): Promulgated Worry & Fear!

(Can I be wrong---each & every time?---Hmm!...I wonder!?)

 

 

I am a simple creature; I confess such transgression. Not sophisticated. Not “genius”.

My beliefs (and, intent-purpose life-practice) are designedly simple.

My sacred mantra: Faith! Family! Freedom! encapsulates my life-focus: Truth! Love! Honor!

No one needs to challenge my conclusions; I do that unmercifully; if they fail, I change.

Always negotiate from strength! Compromise is not the art of diplomacy; it is a display of weakness. If one is “right” in their endeavors through life in time and space, there can be no reason to relent in the pursuit of Truth! Love! Honor! No repentance is necessary within: Truth!

So? Those evil twin step-sisters “Worry & Fear” are a self-inflicted cancer by “choice”; no one and no circumstance can achieve these faux-conclusions---save…one’s own self!

Now! Mr. Genius, how can such tripe be valid in a world and life full of misery?

…And, the Truth shall set you free! Everything really is---simple! Objective knowledge wins.

Knowledge born of Truth is Supreme! Truth! triumphs any flawed knowledge. Tell the Truth!

So? Go right ahead and conjure-up any horrendous conclusion over any issue: Worry & Fear!

And, when the deed is complete, after the dust settles, when the Truth prevails, all those evil thoughts from your purposely defective conclusions vaporize in the very fading of the evil-lie.

Make it up as you plod along; Truth stands alone---stately tall…like the exemplar Independent-Individual! Would you rather deceive yourself? Be popular rather than right?

Well! Only You get to make that choice; once you do---live with it…if you can.

Got issues? Problems? Want to know the cause and the solution? Get a mirror to see---You!

I sincerely wish you: Love! & Peace! But---the choice…belongs only to you! Amen!
 
 
 
Plus:
 
 
 
 
Day 229
 
 
Bapa’s Christmas Plays &
Plays for Mom’s birthdays
 
 
“They” say kids learn 140,000 words by age 5; even I managed to garner a few, mysef.
With this penchant for writing, I put the “hobby” to good use; I write poems and prose and plays and sonnets and such for the people I love in this life; learn a few couplets and it’s easy.
At age eighteen, Lady Candice Leah offered me her year book for my “words-of-wisdom”.
I drew an outline of my hand on a page and wrote some deep thoughts for her consideration.
(This “work” appears in my book: Golden 50th Anniversary.) Available on Amazon books.
In college, I formally decided to write a novel which I had considered doing in high school but found too many easy distractions to pursue. Finally, one day, I took up pencil and paper.
So? To personalize my efforts of stringing myriad words into sentences, paragraphs and tomes, I took to expressing my Love in rhyme-time presentations to the recipient.
My writing reflects my passion for life and love; in plays, each of the kids has an integral part.
Lovely Lady Candice found a BBC television presentation about some medieval (circa-1154) monks inhabiting Shrewsbury abbey in ole England with the main character Cadfael. Now, I may have lived in another time and place (some wish that I did so---now!) but I doubt it. Still!?
Ole Cadfael sure enough holds my values and exhibits virtues I’d surely like to claim!?
On one of the recent Lady Candy’s birthday-celebrations, I wrote a play (in the Cadfael venue.)
Most of my Christmas offerings are done in rhyme-fashion, also.
Each of my Loves receives the Iambic-pentameter treatment including Mother Nature and the Diety; Life is grand, exciting, lovely, adventurous, fun---and, mostly…for living enjoyment.
I sure enough did my part to bring the delight to any who caught my fancy.
Anyway, if nothing else, “artistic-license” lets me get away with a modicum of---“talent?” Not to mention---mayhem!?...when you’re crazy you can get away with “almost” anything!? Amen!
 
Let the writing---begin and…continue! Forever! Amen!
 
Ah! Cookie Jar Sweet “Rhyme-tyme” Memories!


 

 

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