Category Archives: musings

Watt Perplexed

Daily Prompt: Perplexed
https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/perplexed/          


Blood flows electric.

Sever the cord? Nevermore —

— A life acoustic.

Only Words

DAILY PROMPT
Seven Wonders
Khalil Gibran once said that people will never understand one another unless language is reduced to seven words. What would your seven words be?

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/seven-wonders/

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I am quiet, tell me a story.

Admit Impediments

Connie and I were the last two kids to live in our houses. We were the same age and only saw each other through the fence between our postage-stamp size backyards. She never came over to my yard to play and I never went over to her.

We passed a few small things back and forth between the fence, maybe some leaves or flowers or very small toys. We could never hold each other’s dolls. And of course human contact is not easy through chain link.

Was this fence the beginnings of the self-inflicted barriers I placed on my personal relationships throughout my life? Maybe it is why I crave isolation.

I suspect my mother and grandmother had their reasons for maintaining this barrier. They were distrustful and critical of other people. Better to keep a distance. Our two houses were destined for demolition so why bother to cultivate friendships? They would never go out of their way to find Connie’s new house and take me there for a visit. And they certainly wouldn’t want extra kids over at their house.

I still think about Connie at times and wonder what path she took in life. Does she remember the incarceration?

Is God Natural?

DAILY PROMPT
Doubters Alert
What commonly accepted truth (or “truth”) do you think is wrong, or at least seriously doubt? Why?

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/dp_prompt/doubters-alert/

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A walk among nature proves the existence of God. How can you look at the beauty of a tree and doubt the existence of God? Believers espouse that the natural world screams out the fact that only a Creator could lay out a plan so perfect and beautiful. Peek out a window to witness the truth.

I’m a city girl that has no great love of untamed nature. But I do love the little bit of nature in my backyard. If anyone reads my blog, they know that I love the birds and cultivate them with birdseed, nectar, and a clean birdbath. I would rather gaze at the few annuals I plant in my yard than get daily deliveries of fresh flowers from a florist. I don’t care for insects in my house, but I do enjoy viewing their buzzy, crawly activities outside.

Nature has beauty. It does not prove the existence of God.

For this lack of belief, I blame modern times. As a medieval human, I’m sure no doubts would exist in my brain. In particular, I blame two modern strains of thought: existentialism and science fiction.

The play by Sartre, No Exit, squelches any ideas of a cut-and-dried heaven and hell. Perception is changeable, not subject to finite rules.

Earth is our sanctuary. In science fiction, one can find vastly different worlds that suit other life forms or machine forms perfectly well, but are a torment to our eyes. Likewise, our earth can be one huge horror movie to some Others in this universe.

Biting into the apple of modern times puts an end to certainty. I can’t un-see or un-think this point of view. What I love, proves nothing. In turn this tinges everything with sadness. I would prefer a kinder point of view.

Snow in the Summer

DAILY PROMPT
That Stings!
Franz Kafka said, “we ought to read only books that bite and sting us.” What’s the last thing you read that bit and stung you?

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/dp_prompt/that-stings/

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That last book was “Snow” by Orhan Pamuk. His books give me a glimpse into a land and culture that I am blind to and gives me inklings of understanding.

“Snow” explores the author’s country of Turkey. His land has been and is at the crossroads of the east and west where a complex pull of secular and religious ideologies struggle for power.

The whole book had a scorpion effect on me, but I remember a particular bite and sting in Chapter 32, “I Have Two Souls Inside My Body.”

In this chapter Ka,the main character, writes a poem that speaks of a “. . . sadness of a city forgotten by the outside world and banished from history.” He imagines that he is in a Hollywood movie, the image of the earth spinning pans in, the camera moves closer until you see only one country — Turkey — with its surrounding seas, Istanbul, trees. and laundry, until the film stops at Ka’s own bedroom window.

I received a bit of a jolt when the camera settled in on a location several thousand of miles away from my personal view of the same Hollywood movie. My earth stops spinning on the Great Lakes, Detroit, a Ford motor plant, a birdbath. This may be my American egocentrism at work here, but it is probably a natural vision most people go to in their minds.

I love to read books that take me out of my skin and for a second puts me in another’s place. To me this is better than physical travel. Travel may take you to tourist spots and remove you from controversial images or people. Your mind can take you more places. I prefer Dickinson’s room to Melville’s open seas.

What the Bee Sees

Bumblebee transformed

ED’s garden companion,

Drone slips into room.

Mrs. Feminist

Women of my age have long ago adopted the term “Ms.” as a preferable courtesy title for a woman. Calling a married woman “Mrs.” seems archaic and somewhat derogatory. This puts an end to defining a woman by her marital status. “Ms. Magazine” hammered home this idea since it was first published in 1972.

My nursing student daughter-in-law wears a necklace with the letters “Mrs.” on it. Her good friend gave her a pillow with the words Mr. and Mrs. emblazoned across it. She also took my son’s last name as her own.

A very smart young woman I know became a nurse practitioner. Her professors told her to go to medical school because she could definitely handle it. She said no. She wanted to have a family and did not want the intense work schedule of most doctors. She felt passionate about working in the medical field, but she wanted a better balance between her work hours and her personal life. She married, had a child,  and is happy to use her husband’s last name. Mrs. doesn’t seem to offend her.

Conversely, another smart young woman I know wanted to become a doctor and her advisors told her to go into nursing instead. She ignored them and she became a medical doctor at the age of 25 while graduating in the top 2% of her class.  When she got married she took her husband’s last name. Not even a hyphen connects her to her former last name.

Is it contradictory for a woman to pursue a profession and still call herself a Mrs.?  Are millennial women enjoying the fruits of the feminist movement while reverting to some patriarchal mindsets?

Maybe the feminism of Camille Paglia is winning here. Camille is an academic that attacks academia. She is a lesbian that doesn’t get along with lesbians. Her opinions often veer toward Harold Bloom.

In her wild and complicated book, “Sexual Personae,” she writes:

One of feminism’s irritating reflexes is its fashionable disdain for “patriarchal society,” to which nothing good is ever attributed. But it is patriarchal society that has freed me as a woman. It is capitalism that has given me the leisure to sit at this desk writing this book. Let us stop being small-minded about men and freely acknowledge what treasures their obsessiveness has poured into culture.

You may disagree with Paglia, but exposure to her ideas won’t hurt you. I prefer to move freely along the political spectrum and pick and modify ideas of all sorts. Reading and thinking are the some of the most enjoyable and useful activities a human can pursue.

I’ll keep using Ms., but the Mrs. title doesn’t offend me. Does it offend you?