I saw a video clip of Dr. Peter Saul talking about the choices we make, or fail to make, regarding our own end of life care.
He reminds us that with increasing longevity comes not more years of youth but more years of old age, and that frailty comes to us all.
Dr. Saul refers to two of the most imortant questions of our lives: 1) If you can't speak for yourself, who do you want speaking for you? and, 2) Have you talked to that person about what your wishes are should that time come?
My personal interpretation of his message is that all of us are responsible for making choices not only about our lives as we go along through them, but about the ends of our lives. I'm not talking about suicide or euthenasia, but about the fact that each and all of us need to take just a little time (while we have it) to prepare ourselves and our loved ones for the ultimate inevitability of life - it ends sooner or later. HOW it ends is up to us for the most part, barring violence or a natural disaster of some kind.
There are information packets available at any medical facility that explain the options and procedures involved, and access is as easy as stopping in and requesting the information. The forms will make you think, and give you a format through which to make your wishes known in case you're ever in a position where you can't speak or write them in person.
More important than filling out forms is making sure those closest to you know in no uncertain terms exactly what it is that YOU want for YOURSELF when your time comes. Tell them flat out and put it in writing so there's no chance for misunderstanding.
The thing is that, except for the thinking about it and making your choices, the whole process need take only a few minutes. Once you've gotten it straight in your mind, write it down and then tell those who need to know, giving them copies of your written words.
If you leave it up to others to decide, without having given them any type of guidance, you aren't being fair. So just do it and get it over with. Then you and your family don't have to think about it again until the time comes sometime down the road - and when that time DOES come they will know what to do, which will relieve them of much stress in what will no doubt already be a stressful time. It won't be THEIR call, but YOURS.
For the record, my choice is simple. No interference whatsoever, period end of discussion. Nothing. This goes beyond "No Code" and "DNR (Do Not Resuscitate)" for me. It means render no aid and I mean that literally.
I cannot afford and flatly REFUSE to accrue the bills associated with even one day of a hospital stay or an emergency room visit, let alone a nursing home or hospice care. Finances aside, I figure my life is my own to do with as I please, to the very end. I accept the responsiblity for my own choices - AND I accept the responsibility for seeing to my own health and well-being to the best of my ability.
I am most assuredly not averse to life! I love mine and fully intend to live it to its utmost. That means that I try to take the best possible care of myself that I can. When I'm up on my roof, I'm not likely to fall off and break my neck because when I'm up there I'm CAREFUL. I take precautions to protect myself. I accept the fact that it's MY responsibility to prevent both accidents and illnesses. If I fail, I die. It's as simple as that. It's nobody's responsibility but my own to keep me going.
Keep in mind that where a person is on their 'life-line' makes a big difference in what their choices will be. A young parent with a family to raise would probably NOT make the same choices that I've made, nor should they (in my opinion,they need every possible chance they can get to raise those families and live their lives fully). I work in a nursing home and on more than one occasion I've had someone tell me that they wished the thousands of dollars being spent to keep them there every month could be going instead to a young family who needs it, or to put someone through college. True. More than one person has told me that. I never want to be in a position where I would be saying the same sort of thing. I love my job and I love my people more than I can say ... it's just ... thought-provoking at times.
My daughters are well aware of my choices and they know the words to say should they get a question from someone someday: "Let her go." Or, more likely, and I'm laughing aloud as I write this, they'll say: "Let 'er RIP, Mom!!!" (so very PUNNY we are!) along with: "You GO girl!" and: "I love you, remember the rules!" or "On the road again!" Because they know that, relatively speaking, it will after all be only a brief separation for us.
Ha. Little do they know; it will be no separation at all seeing as how once I have my wings ... I'll be there.
Sunday, March 25, 2012
Thursday, March 15, 2012
Plan A Still Toodling Right Along!
Dining room, attic hall, and bathroom floors have been stripped, sanded, and sealed; that's a nice step in the right direction, and they look one heck of a lot better than they probably have in the 100 years of their lives to date. Having gotten that far, and being heartily sick and tired of re-finishing floors, I decided that the old kitchen and the new kitchen are getting linoleum.
The new kitchen's walls are also primed (okay, I admit I still have a little detail work and one little corner to do, but for the most part they are done!) so now I can get on with figuring out exactly what I want to DO with them.
Shelving units are built and more planned. Some are for artwork display; some are for books.
I've begun collecting more materials for the roofing and for ramping. The roofing will be time-consuming, what with having to remove two layers of cedar shakes (all those NAILS!!), but I'll dodder along as best I can. As soon as I have the scaffolding (next on my purchase list) and the weather is nice enough, I can get on with it! I have plenty of everything I need to get a good beginning.
One thing I discovered today is that my little pickup is a great little work pony! I hauled almost half a ton of materials and that little old truck performed like a trooper, which is a huge relief. This time it was mainly concrete blocks and rolls of roofing stuff; next it will be more rolls and lots of shingles, which aren't exactly feather-weight.
Moving right along ... in order to do the dining room floor I had to of course empty the room. Once the floor was double sealed I decided I really like the space in there when it isn't all filled up with a big dining room table, the accompanying chairs, couch, easy chair, and whatever the heck else I had taking up all the room. Since it's just me and Duke here, I made an arbitrary decision to dispense with most of all that stuff. I'll have my small antique table, a couple of chairs, the counter for electronics, and my recliner and that's it. Out with the rest!
For a few days the couch sat in the middle of my studio work room, taking up all THAT space. Then I heaved a heavy sigh and went ahead and dismantled the day bed in the morning room to make room for the couch in there for the time being. The day bed, dismantled, I just added to the rapidly filling front porch. Some of the clutter out there consists of dump-bound junk; some of it I want to keep (if I can ever get to it); a large portion will sit there until the people who want it are ready to have it (which will hopefully be in this decade). Once that re-distribution happens this old house will have a look that I will sincerely appreciate.
One of my 'between-work' projects in the next couple of days is going to be constructing the framing to use in building Duke's stone doghouse. It's a practice run for the bigger projects I have in mind. I'll also have to go rock-hunting, which will probably be the most fun of the whole project. Other than that, I just have to get some concrete mix and a five gallon pail. Well yeah, then I have to DO the project!
Oh, an explanation of the term 'between-work': I'm a CNA at a local medical facility and work the 3-11 shift. When I have a bunch of work days in a row, my daily schedule is getting up and moving around nine or ten, eating, bathing, spending a little time on line or fiddling with either planning or working on something or other; then, because I'm OLD (and because my job is physically and emotionally demanding), I'll usually try to get some rest from noon until two when it's time for me to get ready for work, leave for work at two-thirty so as to get there on time, work from three to eleven, get home shortly before midnight, wind down until one or two in the morning, and do it all over again. So the 'between-work' time consists of maybe an hour in the late morning.
Anyway ...
The gal I 'sold' my other house to told me that she's going to pay me a little more on it, so I'm hoping to be able to go shopping again on my next weekend off, for those roofing materials and hopefully the linoleum for the kitchens.
In between now and then I'll have one day 'off' from work and according to the extended forecast it's supposed to rain that day so I reckon maybe I can use that day to do something creative for a change.
Saturday, February 25, 2012
Sanding the Dining Room Floor
Well now. This ought to be fun!
I'm in the process (okay I'm taking a break from the process at the moment) of sanding the dining room floor in preparation for re-sealing it.
Breaks are mandatory because I'm using a little electric sander and my fingers, hand, and half my arm go numb from the vibrations.
The good news is that it seems to be working fine.
In between other things I'll be sanding away on it all day today, and then at bedtime I'll paint myself out of the dining room and into my bedroom to give it plenty of time to dry overnight. Duke will have to spend the night in the old kitchen, which he might gripe about (you think dogs don't gripe? You'll have to meet Duke someday; he's adept at it) but he'll survive.
Friday, February 17, 2012
Plan A Still On Track
Finding 'homes' for everything, sorting and filing as I go, yada yada, what can I say? Some days are more productive than others!
One thing: I figured out where I can put the McCord hutch so as to open up that corner of my studio work room! You'll never believe this, but that hutch is going ... drum roll please ... IN THE OLD KITCHEN! And the Wagaman/Gibson dresser(s) ... in the morning room along with the Blanton library table and the antique Hotel dresser.
The corner cleared by moving the hutch will become home to four display boxes. I have a LOT of finished pieces that I like but never get to see because they're all stacked on top of each other. Hence the display boxes.
Speaking of display boxes.
I built a bunch of them, with the intent of putting shelves in them and using them for my supplies. Got them done and up on the wall, wondered if one of my sculptures would fit, tried it, and it's still there.
Which means I need to build a bunch more boxes (with shelves) for my supplies. Wry chuckle. I also need to build even more (lots more, with shelves) for all my books. Some of them have been in boxes for YEARS; unpacking them is like having a reunion with dear friends whom I haven't seen in a long time! One entire wall of my dining room MIGHT be enough. If not, I guess I'll keep building.
One thing: I figured out where I can put the McCord hutch so as to open up that corner of my studio work room! You'll never believe this, but that hutch is going ... drum roll please ... IN THE OLD KITCHEN! And the Wagaman/Gibson dresser(s) ... in the morning room along with the Blanton library table and the antique Hotel dresser.
The corner cleared by moving the hutch will become home to four display boxes. I have a LOT of finished pieces that I like but never get to see because they're all stacked on top of each other. Hence the display boxes.
Speaking of display boxes.
I built a bunch of them, with the intent of putting shelves in them and using them for my supplies. Got them done and up on the wall, wondered if one of my sculptures would fit, tried it, and it's still there.
Which means I need to build a bunch more boxes (with shelves) for my supplies. Wry chuckle. I also need to build even more (lots more, with shelves) for all my books. Some of them have been in boxes for YEARS; unpacking them is like having a reunion with dear friends whom I haven't seen in a long time! One entire wall of my dining room MIGHT be enough. If not, I guess I'll keep building.
Tuesday, February 7, 2012
Patrick Henry, Revisited
Patrick Henry, March 23, 1775.
"No man thinks more highly than I do of the patriotism, as well as abilities, of the very worthy gentlemen who have just addressed the House. But different men often see the same subject in different lights; and, therefore, I hope it will not be thought disrespectful to those gentlemen if, entertaining as I do opinions of a character very opposite to theirs, I shall speak forth my
sentiments freely and without reserve.
...
For my part, whatever anguish of spirit it may cost, I am willing to know the whole truth; to know the worst, and to provide for it.
I have but one lamp by which my feet are guided, and that is the lamp of experience. I know of no way of judging of the future but by the past.
...
They tell us, sir, that we are weak; unable to cope with so formidable an adversary.
But when shall we be stronger? Will it be the next week, or the next year?
...
Sir, we are not weak if we make a proper use of those means which the God of nature hath placed in our power."
The words of Patrick Henry reflect the feelings of many of our families, then and now. The very government he and our families were fighting to create, protect, and develop into a government Of the People, By the People, For the People is STILL OUR GOVERNMENT. The United States of America is STILL OUR COUNTRY. We've inherited it from those who came before us; it is OURS.
The issues we as American citizens now face are not the same ones our families dealt with then.
The words of Patrick Henry were a call not just for liberty, but a call to arms. Were he here today he would probably not include a call to arms, not literally, because it's not necessary. Other tools are at our disposal should we choose to use them. Yet the call, the call would be sounding loud and clear. But our arms are best used to hold each other up. We also have our voices and should be using them in whatever format we can.
Our families answered the call then, stood their ground, and stepped up to the plate to create, protect, and develop the government and the country that is now OURS. They did what they had to do in order to leave us the legacy of a future (our present) different from the past they had lived with, to AVOID the necessity for any future call to arms on American soil. The Civil War devastated our country, our homes, our families; it did not destroy them utterly or we would not be here. Nevertheless it is NOT something to be repeated EVER AGAIN in the United States of America.
Tempers rise; emotions flare; public and private forums are filled with frustration, fear, and angst - then and now.
Our legacy, this incredible magnificent country we call home, comes with one string attached: to continue what our families began. To continue to create, protect, and develop so that OUR legacy to those yet to come will not be diminished.
Frustration, fear, and angst are among us; we still have a job to do. Doing what needs to be done in spite of the frustration, fear, and angst - that's called courage. It's in our DNA, another part of our legacy. It's picking up the pieces and getting on with it. It's taking care of our families. It's making it through hard times so that OUR legacy continues.
The words of Patrick Henry spoke then; they speak now.
When enough is enough already WE THE PEOPLE need to stand our ground, speak up, and step up to the plate.
We need to take care of our own. Hoovervilles are not an option.
Depending on anyone except our own selves is not an option.
Let the DC boys play their games. We have lives to live, families to care for.
Nobody needs to tell any of us any of this. It's common sense. Hang in there together or hang separately.
Most of us are not wealthy. Most of us are not politicians. Most of us are just trying to get by as best we can from one day to the next. Many of us feel alone and afraid. We are not alone, although we may be afraid.
If you have a job, do it and don't gripe about it. If you don't, look around you. Someone close by could probably use a helping hand with something or other. Be that hand.
If nothing else, SMILE at the grouchiest person you know. Say hello. Nicely.
Then if you're so inclined, go on line and pontificate to your heart's content to nobody in particular.
Me, I'm just a little old lady in my silver years. I'm still working at a job I love although it's physically and emotionally demanding. I struggle to catch up on my bills and hope to do it while I can still work. I expect nothing from anybody; when I can't work any more I don't expect any Social Security. If my knees give out Medicaid isn't going to replace them for me. That's just the way it is and I don't expect anything different. Insurance is not in my budget. Doctors are not in my budget. Medications are not in my budget. If I get sick I'll either get better or die. Thank God I'm not one of this country's 80% fat people. I can't afford to be fat.
I wonder if Patrick Henry ever got off topic? Back in his day, the issues WERE different than what we're up against now. Their debates were on different topics ... or were they? Minds of more substance than mine can figure that out. Patrick Henry says, at one point, that there is 'no longer any room for hope' - I for one would say we aren't to that point yet. Of course I may have thought and said the same back then, who knows?
Bottom line here is that this too shall pass. Meanwhile we all need to try to help one another.
Patrick Henry, March 23, 1775.
No man thinks more highly than I do of the patriotism, as well as abilities, of the very worthy gentlemen who have just addressed the House. But different men often see the same subject in different lights; and, therefore, I hope it will not be thought disrespectful to those gentlemen if, entertaining as I do opinions of a character very opposite to theirs, I shall speak forth my
sentiments freely and without reserve.
This is no time for ceremony.
The question before the House is one of awful moment to this country.
For my own part, I consider it as nothing less than a question of freedom or slavery;
and in proportion to the magnitude of the subject ought to be the freedom of the debate. It is only in this way that we can hope to arrive at truth, and fulfill the great responsibility which we hold to God and our country.
Should I keep back my opinions at such a time, through fear of giving offense, I should consider myself as guilty of treason towards my country, and of an act of disloyalty toward the Majesty of Heaven, which I revere above all earthly kings.
Mr. President, it is natural to man to indulge in the illusions of hope. We are apt to shut our eyes against a painful truth, and listen to the song of that siren till she transforms us into beasts.
Is this the part of wise men, engaged in a great and arduous struggle for liberty?
Are we disposed to be of the number of those who, having eyes, see not, and, having ears, hear not, the things which so nearly concern their temporal salvation?
For my part, whatever anguish of spirit it may cost, I am willing to know the whole truth; to know the worst, and to provide for it.
I have but one lamp by which my feet are guided, and that is the lamp of experience. I know of no way of judging of the future but by the past.
And judging by the past, I wish to know what there has been in the conduct of the British ministry for the last ten years to justify those hopes with which gentlemen have been pleased to solace themselves and the House.
Is it that insidious smile with which our petition has been lately received?
Trust it not, sir; it will prove a snare to your feet. Suffer not yourselves to be betrayed with a kiss.
Ask yourselves how this gracious reception of our petition comports with those warlike preparations which cover our waters and darken our land. Are fleets and armies necessary to a work of love and
reconciliation? Have we shown ourselves so unwilling to be reconciled that force must be called in to win back our love? Let us not deceive ourselves, sir. These are the implements of war and subjugation; the last arguments to which kings resort. I ask gentlemen, sir, what means this martial array, if its purpose be not to force us to submission? Can gentlemen assign any other possible motive for it? Has Great Britain any enemy, in this quarter of the world, to call for all this accumulation of navies and armies? No, sir, she has none. They are meant for us: they can be meant for no other. They are sent over to bind and rivet upon us those chains which the British ministry have been so long forging.
And what have we to oppose to them? Shall we try argument? Sir, we have been trying that for the last ten years. Have we anything new to offer upon the subject? Nothing. We have held the subject up in every light of which it is capable; but it has been all in vain. Shall we resort to entreaty and humble supplication? What terms shall we find which have not been already exhausted?
Let us not, I beseech you, sir, deceive ourselves. Sir, we have done everything that could be done to avert the storm which is now coming on.
We have petitioned; we have remonstrated; we have supplicated; we have prostrated ourselves before the throne, and have implored its interposition to arrest the tyrannical hands of the ministry and Parliament.
Our petitions have been slighted; our remonstrances have produced additional violence and insult; our supplications have been disregarded; and we have been spurned, with contempt, from the foot of the throne! In vain, after these things, may we indulge the fond hope of peace and reconciliation.
There is no longer any room for hope. If we wish to be free-- if we mean to preserve inviolate those inestimable privileges for which we have been so long contending--if we mean not basely to abandon the noble struggle in which we have been so long engaged, and which we have pledged ourselves never to abandon until the glorious object of our contest shall be obtained--we must fight!
I repeat it, sir, we must fight!
An appeal to arms and to the God of hosts is all that is left us!
They tell us, sir, that we are weak; unable to cope with so formidable an adversary.
But when shall we be stronger? Will it be the next week, or the next year?
Will it be when we are totally disarmed, and when a British guard shall be stationed in every house? Shall we gather strength by irresolution and inaction? Shall we acquire the means of effectual resistance by lying supinely on our backs and hugging the delusive phantom of hope, until our enemies shall have bound us hand and foot?
Sir, we are not weak if we make a proper use of those means which the God of nature hath placed in our power.
The millions of people, armed in the holy cause of liberty, and in such a country as that which we possess, are invincible by any force which our enemy can send against us.
Besides, sir, we shall not fight our battles alone. There is a just God who presides over the destinies of nations, and who will raise up friends to fight our battles for us. The battle, sir, is not to the strong
alone; it is to the vigilant, the active, the brave. Besides, sir, we have no election.
If we were base enough to desire it, it is now too late to retire from the contest. There is no retreat but in submission and slavery! Our chains are forged! Their clanking may be heard on the plains of Boston!
The war is inevitable and let it come!
I repeat it, sir, let it come.
It is in vain, sir, to extenuate the matter.
Gentlemen may cry, Peace, Peace but there is no peace. The war is actually begun! The next gale that sweeps from the north will bring to our ears the clash of resounding arms! Our brethren are already in the field! Why stand we here idle? What is it that gentlemen wish? What would they have? Is life so dear, or peace so sweet, as to be purchased at the price of chains and slavery?
Forbid it, Almighty God!
I know not what course others may take; but as for me, give me liberty or give me
death!
"No man thinks more highly than I do of the patriotism, as well as abilities, of the very worthy gentlemen who have just addressed the House. But different men often see the same subject in different lights; and, therefore, I hope it will not be thought disrespectful to those gentlemen if, entertaining as I do opinions of a character very opposite to theirs, I shall speak forth my
sentiments freely and without reserve.
...
For my part, whatever anguish of spirit it may cost, I am willing to know the whole truth; to know the worst, and to provide for it.
I have but one lamp by which my feet are guided, and that is the lamp of experience. I know of no way of judging of the future but by the past.
...
They tell us, sir, that we are weak; unable to cope with so formidable an adversary.
But when shall we be stronger? Will it be the next week, or the next year?
...
Sir, we are not weak if we make a proper use of those means which the God of nature hath placed in our power."
The words of Patrick Henry reflect the feelings of many of our families, then and now. The very government he and our families were fighting to create, protect, and develop into a government Of the People, By the People, For the People is STILL OUR GOVERNMENT. The United States of America is STILL OUR COUNTRY. We've inherited it from those who came before us; it is OURS.
The issues we as American citizens now face are not the same ones our families dealt with then.
The words of Patrick Henry were a call not just for liberty, but a call to arms. Were he here today he would probably not include a call to arms, not literally, because it's not necessary. Other tools are at our disposal should we choose to use them. Yet the call, the call would be sounding loud and clear. But our arms are best used to hold each other up. We also have our voices and should be using them in whatever format we can.
Our families answered the call then, stood their ground, and stepped up to the plate to create, protect, and develop the government and the country that is now OURS. They did what they had to do in order to leave us the legacy of a future (our present) different from the past they had lived with, to AVOID the necessity for any future call to arms on American soil. The Civil War devastated our country, our homes, our families; it did not destroy them utterly or we would not be here. Nevertheless it is NOT something to be repeated EVER AGAIN in the United States of America.
Tempers rise; emotions flare; public and private forums are filled with frustration, fear, and angst - then and now.
Our legacy, this incredible magnificent country we call home, comes with one string attached: to continue what our families began. To continue to create, protect, and develop so that OUR legacy to those yet to come will not be diminished.
Frustration, fear, and angst are among us; we still have a job to do. Doing what needs to be done in spite of the frustration, fear, and angst - that's called courage. It's in our DNA, another part of our legacy. It's picking up the pieces and getting on with it. It's taking care of our families. It's making it through hard times so that OUR legacy continues.
The words of Patrick Henry spoke then; they speak now.
When enough is enough already WE THE PEOPLE need to stand our ground, speak up, and step up to the plate.
We need to take care of our own. Hoovervilles are not an option.
Depending on anyone except our own selves is not an option.
Let the DC boys play their games. We have lives to live, families to care for.
Nobody needs to tell any of us any of this. It's common sense. Hang in there together or hang separately.
Most of us are not wealthy. Most of us are not politicians. Most of us are just trying to get by as best we can from one day to the next. Many of us feel alone and afraid. We are not alone, although we may be afraid.
If you have a job, do it and don't gripe about it. If you don't, look around you. Someone close by could probably use a helping hand with something or other. Be that hand.
If nothing else, SMILE at the grouchiest person you know. Say hello. Nicely.
Then if you're so inclined, go on line and pontificate to your heart's content to nobody in particular.
Me, I'm just a little old lady in my silver years. I'm still working at a job I love although it's physically and emotionally demanding. I struggle to catch up on my bills and hope to do it while I can still work. I expect nothing from anybody; when I can't work any more I don't expect any Social Security. If my knees give out Medicaid isn't going to replace them for me. That's just the way it is and I don't expect anything different. Insurance is not in my budget. Doctors are not in my budget. Medications are not in my budget. If I get sick I'll either get better or die. Thank God I'm not one of this country's 80% fat people. I can't afford to be fat.
I wonder if Patrick Henry ever got off topic? Back in his day, the issues WERE different than what we're up against now. Their debates were on different topics ... or were they? Minds of more substance than mine can figure that out. Patrick Henry says, at one point, that there is 'no longer any room for hope' - I for one would say we aren't to that point yet. Of course I may have thought and said the same back then, who knows?
Bottom line here is that this too shall pass. Meanwhile we all need to try to help one another.
Patrick Henry, March 23, 1775.
No man thinks more highly than I do of the patriotism, as well as abilities, of the very worthy gentlemen who have just addressed the House. But different men often see the same subject in different lights; and, therefore, I hope it will not be thought disrespectful to those gentlemen if, entertaining as I do opinions of a character very opposite to theirs, I shall speak forth my
sentiments freely and without reserve.
This is no time for ceremony.
The question before the House is one of awful moment to this country.
For my own part, I consider it as nothing less than a question of freedom or slavery;
and in proportion to the magnitude of the subject ought to be the freedom of the debate. It is only in this way that we can hope to arrive at truth, and fulfill the great responsibility which we hold to God and our country.
Should I keep back my opinions at such a time, through fear of giving offense, I should consider myself as guilty of treason towards my country, and of an act of disloyalty toward the Majesty of Heaven, which I revere above all earthly kings.
Mr. President, it is natural to man to indulge in the illusions of hope. We are apt to shut our eyes against a painful truth, and listen to the song of that siren till she transforms us into beasts.
Is this the part of wise men, engaged in a great and arduous struggle for liberty?
Are we disposed to be of the number of those who, having eyes, see not, and, having ears, hear not, the things which so nearly concern their temporal salvation?
For my part, whatever anguish of spirit it may cost, I am willing to know the whole truth; to know the worst, and to provide for it.
I have but one lamp by which my feet are guided, and that is the lamp of experience. I know of no way of judging of the future but by the past.
And judging by the past, I wish to know what there has been in the conduct of the British ministry for the last ten years to justify those hopes with which gentlemen have been pleased to solace themselves and the House.
Is it that insidious smile with which our petition has been lately received?
Trust it not, sir; it will prove a snare to your feet. Suffer not yourselves to be betrayed with a kiss.
Ask yourselves how this gracious reception of our petition comports with those warlike preparations which cover our waters and darken our land. Are fleets and armies necessary to a work of love and
reconciliation? Have we shown ourselves so unwilling to be reconciled that force must be called in to win back our love? Let us not deceive ourselves, sir. These are the implements of war and subjugation; the last arguments to which kings resort. I ask gentlemen, sir, what means this martial array, if its purpose be not to force us to submission? Can gentlemen assign any other possible motive for it? Has Great Britain any enemy, in this quarter of the world, to call for all this accumulation of navies and armies? No, sir, she has none. They are meant for us: they can be meant for no other. They are sent over to bind and rivet upon us those chains which the British ministry have been so long forging.
And what have we to oppose to them? Shall we try argument? Sir, we have been trying that for the last ten years. Have we anything new to offer upon the subject? Nothing. We have held the subject up in every light of which it is capable; but it has been all in vain. Shall we resort to entreaty and humble supplication? What terms shall we find which have not been already exhausted?
Let us not, I beseech you, sir, deceive ourselves. Sir, we have done everything that could be done to avert the storm which is now coming on.
We have petitioned; we have remonstrated; we have supplicated; we have prostrated ourselves before the throne, and have implored its interposition to arrest the tyrannical hands of the ministry and Parliament.
Our petitions have been slighted; our remonstrances have produced additional violence and insult; our supplications have been disregarded; and we have been spurned, with contempt, from the foot of the throne! In vain, after these things, may we indulge the fond hope of peace and reconciliation.
There is no longer any room for hope. If we wish to be free-- if we mean to preserve inviolate those inestimable privileges for which we have been so long contending--if we mean not basely to abandon the noble struggle in which we have been so long engaged, and which we have pledged ourselves never to abandon until the glorious object of our contest shall be obtained--we must fight!
I repeat it, sir, we must fight!
An appeal to arms and to the God of hosts is all that is left us!
They tell us, sir, that we are weak; unable to cope with so formidable an adversary.
But when shall we be stronger? Will it be the next week, or the next year?
Will it be when we are totally disarmed, and when a British guard shall be stationed in every house? Shall we gather strength by irresolution and inaction? Shall we acquire the means of effectual resistance by lying supinely on our backs and hugging the delusive phantom of hope, until our enemies shall have bound us hand and foot?
Sir, we are not weak if we make a proper use of those means which the God of nature hath placed in our power.
The millions of people, armed in the holy cause of liberty, and in such a country as that which we possess, are invincible by any force which our enemy can send against us.
Besides, sir, we shall not fight our battles alone. There is a just God who presides over the destinies of nations, and who will raise up friends to fight our battles for us. The battle, sir, is not to the strong
alone; it is to the vigilant, the active, the brave. Besides, sir, we have no election.
If we were base enough to desire it, it is now too late to retire from the contest. There is no retreat but in submission and slavery! Our chains are forged! Their clanking may be heard on the plains of Boston!
The war is inevitable and let it come!
I repeat it, sir, let it come.
It is in vain, sir, to extenuate the matter.
Gentlemen may cry, Peace, Peace but there is no peace. The war is actually begun! The next gale that sweeps from the north will bring to our ears the clash of resounding arms! Our brethren are already in the field! Why stand we here idle? What is it that gentlemen wish? What would they have? Is life so dear, or peace so sweet, as to be purchased at the price of chains and slavery?
Forbid it, Almighty God!
I know not what course others may take; but as for me, give me liberty or give me
death!
Trigger: Anniversary of Traumatic Event
No matter how long ago something bad happened, no matter how well it's been 'dealt with', no matter how much we want to believe we've 'moved on' or 'gotten past it' or 'forgotten all about it' - there are going to be times when we'll be having an off day without any sort of good reason we can pin down.
As the intervening years fly past, more recent events of that particular date tend to take precedence, and that's a good thing.
Even so, for some unfathomable reason there are times when certain dates or times of year pop up with attached baggage. We don't want to acknowledge it, we try to ignore it, and many times the moment slips away with only a vague uneasiness or a slight headache that soon fades and we think nothing of it.
Once in a while, however, a memory surfaces on a certain date, or under certain conditions, that isn't merely uneasiness or slight discomfort. Decades after the fact, the memory of a bad thing can and will fling itself into a person's consciousness and knock them to their knees. The processes of 'getting over it', of 'dealing with it', of 'forgetting about it' are never as effective or as complete as we would like to believe.
So what are we supposed to do when it's many long years later and we believe we're safely 'past all that' we're suddenly fighting to maintain composure in the midst of being assaulted by a bad memory?
Fight the fight, maintain, and then when we're in our safety zone and not at risk of losing it in public, go with it. Let those memories have their say for a little while. Once they have your permission to show their faces, listen to them and watch them unfold for a little while.
Then sneer at them. Tell them to sit down and shut up. Laugh at them. Remind them, and yourself, that they are only present with YOUR permission. Revoke the permission.
The thing is that they no longer have any power over us. WE are back on our own two feet. WE are in the driver's seat now. WE can sneer and laugh and tell them to sit down and shut up. WE can use them as reminders of how much we have to celebrate.
That's the bottom line here.
Celebrating ourselves as we now are and getting on with it.
The triggers might still be clicking away to beat the band, but we've taken the ammunition out of the weapon. So let them click, sez I. Celebrate them! They're reminders of our strength, our tenacity, our love of living. They didn't kill us when they had live ammunition backing them, so to speak; what on earth do they think they're going to accomplish now that they're nothing more than little clicks?
They can take their ugly little clicking selves back to the dark corners of our gardens where they belong and hide their ugly little faces from the sunlight of our now lives, and we'll watch them scuttle off with their ugly little tails between their ugly little legs. Some things, sad but true, do NOT deserve our attention. Not once they've been shown up for what they really are, which are nothing more than annoyingly ugly little clicks.
Now there's a thought, huh?
If/when one of those annoyingly ugly little clicks dares to peep its annoyingly ugly little face out of its corner, use it as a reason to celebrate our lives and do something special and beautiful. Because we still HAVE our lives, and we CAN do something special and beautiful!
As the intervening years fly past, more recent events of that particular date tend to take precedence, and that's a good thing.
Even so, for some unfathomable reason there are times when certain dates or times of year pop up with attached baggage. We don't want to acknowledge it, we try to ignore it, and many times the moment slips away with only a vague uneasiness or a slight headache that soon fades and we think nothing of it.
Once in a while, however, a memory surfaces on a certain date, or under certain conditions, that isn't merely uneasiness or slight discomfort. Decades after the fact, the memory of a bad thing can and will fling itself into a person's consciousness and knock them to their knees. The processes of 'getting over it', of 'dealing with it', of 'forgetting about it' are never as effective or as complete as we would like to believe.
So what are we supposed to do when it's many long years later and we believe we're safely 'past all that' we're suddenly fighting to maintain composure in the midst of being assaulted by a bad memory?
Fight the fight, maintain, and then when we're in our safety zone and not at risk of losing it in public, go with it. Let those memories have their say for a little while. Once they have your permission to show their faces, listen to them and watch them unfold for a little while.
Then sneer at them. Tell them to sit down and shut up. Laugh at them. Remind them, and yourself, that they are only present with YOUR permission. Revoke the permission.
The thing is that they no longer have any power over us. WE are back on our own two feet. WE are in the driver's seat now. WE can sneer and laugh and tell them to sit down and shut up. WE can use them as reminders of how much we have to celebrate.
That's the bottom line here.
Celebrating ourselves as we now are and getting on with it.
The triggers might still be clicking away to beat the band, but we've taken the ammunition out of the weapon. So let them click, sez I. Celebrate them! They're reminders of our strength, our tenacity, our love of living. They didn't kill us when they had live ammunition backing them, so to speak; what on earth do they think they're going to accomplish now that they're nothing more than little clicks?
They can take their ugly little clicking selves back to the dark corners of our gardens where they belong and hide their ugly little faces from the sunlight of our now lives, and we'll watch them scuttle off with their ugly little tails between their ugly little legs. Some things, sad but true, do NOT deserve our attention. Not once they've been shown up for what they really are, which are nothing more than annoyingly ugly little clicks.
Now there's a thought, huh?
If/when one of those annoyingly ugly little clicks dares to peep its annoyingly ugly little face out of its corner, use it as a reason to celebrate our lives and do something special and beautiful. Because we still HAVE our lives, and we CAN do something special and beautiful!
Saturday, January 28, 2012
That's WHY
In response to those who question me as to my motivation, who want to know what's in it for me, whose primary curiosity appears to concern why I'm wasting my time on a project that isn't going to make me a million dollars, or even contribute in a major way to the running of my household, I say this: I want to and that's enough.
But, they say, it doesn't make sense. It makes sense to me, say I.
To those who wish me to justify myself, I rarely respond. My talents are few and inconsequential; however, they are mine to do with as I choose. That's something I don't take for granted.
For a very long time, one of the cruelties of the (now-ex) man in my life was to denigrate and ridicule every creative impulse I allowed to surface. The words still rose inside of me, refusing to be stifled, but I kept them to myself. Yet, even then, I wrote.
So when people ask me why, how can I say, "I must!" and let it go at that? People need reasons for everything. No matter that this is my business, as much a part of my life as most people's careers. No matter that its value; the intrinsic nature off which confounds the mercenary mind and challenges the pragmatist; its value surpasses that of a fortune.
I can live in relative comfort without a fortune. I cannot live in any comfort at all without words and color. Those who will, or would, leave a legacy of dollars to their heirs, or who would devote their time, thought, energy, and full attention to accumulating money and possessions are justified in their goals and aspirations. I do not question their reasoning; it is obvious.
My goals and aspirations, what my motivation is, what I want to achieve, are less overt; therefore, questioned. I use words and color because it is my nature to do so. The resources I have at my disposal are limited; my gifts to those I love are, of necessity, creative rather than expensive.
As a work of love, I put time, thought, energy, and often a great deal of attention into this project; its value, my motivation, what's in it for me, the WHY of the question, lies exclusively in that love; past, present, future.
No, I'm not rich, nor do I want to be particularly. Yet the internal wealth of knowing the love, the strength, the individual and collective survival and life skills of all the women whose choices led to me being here, to each of us being the women we are - to you who ask me WHY - it's acknowledement to those who came before and will follow.
That's WHY.
Ask me no more.
But, they say, it doesn't make sense. It makes sense to me, say I.
To those who wish me to justify myself, I rarely respond. My talents are few and inconsequential; however, they are mine to do with as I choose. That's something I don't take for granted.
For a very long time, one of the cruelties of the (now-ex) man in my life was to denigrate and ridicule every creative impulse I allowed to surface. The words still rose inside of me, refusing to be stifled, but I kept them to myself. Yet, even then, I wrote.
So when people ask me why, how can I say, "I must!" and let it go at that? People need reasons for everything. No matter that this is my business, as much a part of my life as most people's careers. No matter that its value; the intrinsic nature off which confounds the mercenary mind and challenges the pragmatist; its value surpasses that of a fortune.
I can live in relative comfort without a fortune. I cannot live in any comfort at all without words and color. Those who will, or would, leave a legacy of dollars to their heirs, or who would devote their time, thought, energy, and full attention to accumulating money and possessions are justified in their goals and aspirations. I do not question their reasoning; it is obvious.
My goals and aspirations, what my motivation is, what I want to achieve, are less overt; therefore, questioned. I use words and color because it is my nature to do so. The resources I have at my disposal are limited; my gifts to those I love are, of necessity, creative rather than expensive.
As a work of love, I put time, thought, energy, and often a great deal of attention into this project; its value, my motivation, what's in it for me, the WHY of the question, lies exclusively in that love; past, present, future.
No, I'm not rich, nor do I want to be particularly. Yet the internal wealth of knowing the love, the strength, the individual and collective survival and life skills of all the women whose choices led to me being here, to each of us being the women we are - to you who ask me WHY - it's acknowledement to those who came before and will follow.
That's WHY.
Ask me no more.
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