This Week’s Wisdom

Ours is not the task of fixing the entire world all at once, but of stretching out to mend the part of the world that is within our reach. Any small, calm thing that one soul can do to help another soul, to assist some portion of this poor suffering world, will help immensely. It is not given to us to know which acts or by whom, will cause the critical mass to tip toward an enduring good.

Excerpt from:  We Were Made For These Times by Clarissa Pinkola Estes

[Read the rest of this most-inspiring essay here.]

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This Week’s Words

[Health Update: The sciatica pain that sidelined me from blogging for a week is just about gone, but I’m still dealing with pain and difficulty walking due to two bulging disks.  I am scheduled to have an MRI of my spine on Wednesday.]

A Full-Circle Delivery

In December, I answered a knock at the door to find a florist’s deliveryman holding a beautiful gift poinsettia from a friend of ours.  He asked me where I found the tall, lighted plastic angel next to our stoop—an annual part of our outdoor Christmas display.  I told him that I had had that angel for probably 25 years.

He proceeded to tell me that he had searched everywhere, with no luck, for such an old-fashioned angel to match the style of figures in his large outdoor nativity display. Then I did one of the most spontaneous things I have ever done.  I reached down, unplugged the angel, and said, “Here, take it.”  He was speechless.  Well, not entirely; he kept saying, “Are you sure?”  I told him that I was, indeed, sure, and I asked him if he would tell me his address in town so that my wife and I could drive by and see the angel in its new setting.  He carried the angel to his vehicle in something closely resembling a state of shock.  What was going through my mind was how I was going to break the news to my wife that I had just given away the angel, in the spur of the moment, to a total stranger.

As holiday seasons go, the time got away from us, and we never got to visit his nativity display.  I was very disappointed but figured that we’d just have to wait until next year.

Today (Friday) I answered a knock at the door to find the same deliveryman holding a HUGE bouquet for me.  No, the flowers weren’t from HIM; they were from our daughter and son-in-law in Chicago to celebrate the opening day of my month-long art exhibit at the city library.  But as soon as I opened the door, he said, “I have something to show you.”  He had pulled up on his phone a picture of his nativity scene so that I could see the angel in its new setting.  I told him how grateful I was that he shared the picture, because we thought we had lost the opportunity to see his display this year.  He thanked me again for my random act of angel giving.  All of my self-doubt about whether or not I had possibly lost my mind in giving the angel away evaporated.  My wife, I fear, is still half expecting me to misplace my car keys in the refrigerator.

So today was one of the best days of my life: I had my debut as an artist, I saw how happy I had made another human being by giving away an angel, and I got the biggest bouquet anyone has ever given me.  Below my copyright notice, you can see my Facebook post about the flowers.

Copyright © 2018 by John Arthur Robinson

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This Week’s Words

Politics Aside . . .

I am aware that my posts have become more political lately, and I have decided that my blog should be a refuge from the world’s chaos, not a commentary on it.  My previous blog was entirely based on humor, was family friendly, and was meant to be uplifting.

So I am changing directions in this blog to present from now on (1) inspirational quotes by others, (2) my best photographs, and (3) thoughtful commentary, poems, observations, etc., on the lighter side.

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This Week’s Words

Anthem, 2018

I have believed in, doubted, and believed in God; I have believed in, doubted, and believed in myself.

I have suffered more than some, less than many in my personal crucible.

I have a right to be different, a right not to be defined by what “The Norm” is for my gender, a right not to play games just to be accepted. I will not sacrifice my sanity for conformity.

I hurt for the hurting; I am aggrieved by injustice; and I am enraged by incompetent or insensitive people in power. I reject the authority of evil people in power.

I have a right to a red-hot anger toward people who abuse other people, especially toward those who abuse women and children. Abusers are the enemies of humanity, but many need help because they were abused.

I have a duty to speak out when I see a wrong–to raise my voice in protest, to add my name to petitions–I have a right to be heard that no government has a right to silence.

I am right that I have a right to write.

Copyright © 2018 by John Arthur Robinson

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