on words…

(5 pm. – promoted by DDadmin)

i saw this, or something very like it, at a health clinic when i was pregnant with our first child.

there were several live examples right there in the waiting room for me to observe.

it hit me hard.

words have meaning. words hurt.

verbal abuse is every bit as awful as physical abuse, if not moreso.

it lasts a lifetime while bruises & breaks heal.

words, mean words, hate speech, put downs, derogatory remarks, cuts….

does it really matter what its called?

its all the same

done to make another feel bad so that the speaker feels more… powerful?

but it causes damage.

not only to feelings. now.

but to self esteem. later.

to self worth… to what/how you believe in yourself…

what you think you can do… what value you put in your ideas….

& how you treat others

but the most horrible & insidious is from those with megaphones

spouting the hate, divisiveness & rhetoric

the BS lies that have been coming from both sides

both in politics and the media

those that give no thought to the laws of unintended consequences.

the jumping to conclusions

casting aspersions without proof

casting blame with nothing to back that up

pitting one group against another

painting people in a bad light

to cause fear, gain power, control the dialog

& calling it spin like that makes it any better

thinking is the antidote

being vocal when you see this happening….

whether in line at a store (speak up!)

something you see on a talk show

something you read in the paper or online

or some thing your friends, neighbors or politicians say

speak up.

send a REAL letter if you can.

especially to politicians & news shows.

yes e-mail/fax is easy & will work

but they are easily disregarded because millions can be stored on a laptop.

but REAL mail…?

that makes a tremendous statement.

if everyone who was outraged at some politicians hate speech & in the few next days he got 500,000 letters of castigation….

mail bag after mail bag, hundreds of thousands, even millions of letters being delivered to capitol hill and the white house as well as state houses, governor’s offices and media outlets around the country…?

yeah that’d make a point.

& if its not your congressman…? write anyway.

AND send one to your reps castigating them for not speaking up.

WE must change the world.

one sternly worded letter at a time if need be.

because words hurt. and have consequences


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    • RiaD on January 10, 2011 at 19:24

    lest we become this….

    • RiaD on January 10, 2011 at 19:26

    crossed from my place

    & to FDL

    • Edger on January 10, 2011 at 20:00

    DFH realist!

    • RiaD on January 10, 2011 at 23:54


  1. It was a perfect July morning deep in the woods of Maine.  We were on vacation again at Uncle Bill’s wilderness retreat as our family had done for uncounted years.  It turned out to be a large event in my life after I married my wife and into her family.   Andrew, her father was one of sixteen children.  We used to joke about spending the rest of my life meeting the cousins.  Her Uncle Bill with his gracious and generous heart opened up his excellent wilderness land purchase by inviting all of the family members to enjoy nature in all of its majesty.  Some came and enjoyed while others came did enjoy but fell upon darker times.  Over the years I had become a core member of the community, the fireman, in charge of securing wood for the day and evening campfires many children enjoyed toasting marshmallows and telling ghost stories over.  In these the last of the years I also became sort of by default the ATV trail guide and leader.  It must have been those years my daughter and I spent exploring the old logging roads of Maine or merely the fact that eventually we did manage to find our way back to camp.  We had progressed over the years and our numbers grew too large to stay in the hunting cabin, first with tents, then with pop up campers and finally with tow behind RVs.

    This year my daughter was here with my one-year-old grandson.  They were busy cleaning up the trailer so I took the Grampy opportunity to pamper him, get to know him and perhaps to see if I still had “it” in my old age.   I took my one-year-old grandson in my arms and set him in front of me on my 450 Honda ATV.  We took off down the wooded logging road slowly at first and then a bit faster.  I started playing back my memories for him trying to connect with the mind of a one year old, a mind not yet messed up by the rules and complications of society while at the same time doubting I still had the psychic stuff to even attempt such a thing, what me being a 50 something old fart and all.  He did seem to connect with me, heart to heart, mind-to-mind as he looked up at me with a smile from ear to ear.  I showed him the woods, the woods our family has retreated to annually every summer for thirty years.  I told him to fear not the creatures of the woods, for they would not hurt him if he were true in spirit.  I said I would teach him the way.  Respect the land in its beauty and it will take care of you. I showed him nature, the mountains, the rushing stream all from the seat of an ATV.   Some years ago I carried his mother on my back, ran two miles down the mountain in desperation for the epinephrine kit we forgot to bring on our walk.  Stumbling through swamps and fallen trees with her on my back she finally said “Dad I’m OK”.   My first daughter had suddenly “outgrown” her life-threatening allergy to bees so yes I believe in miracles.  We searched for moose in the early morning and counted stars at night.  I told him his mother swims with beavers.   I think daughter and beaver both scared each other when they met face to face in the swirling mountain stream. I saw water exploding from two directions and then one daughter standing up.  I pictured Kaiser our noble soul rottweiller pulling logs out of the woods for the next night’s fire.  Our family dog came to know the four hour ride to camp ended in the transition from paved road to dirt road and came alive panting with anticipation at the prospect.   It was all here in my mind as I played it for him.

    The next morning upon seeing me in the trailer door a one year old says his first words Vroom, Vroom reciting back my imitation of what an ATV sounds like as he extends his arms for me to pick him up again.  The Grampy connection was made and continues to this day.  A studious two year old now inserts the key into the proper slot, waits for the green light and then hits the start button bringing the 750 cc fuel injected engine to life just as Grampy taught him.  The only saving grace is he can’t put the machine in gear yet.  I became the King of his world and one of my spiritual guides yelled at me for it.

    “You are far to important to be using your skills that way.”

    “Important, me, are you serious, and what skills are you talking about.”  He is my grandson and all I did was try to let him discover the same communication I perceived when I was much younger, so I heard the voice of my wife’s uncle in my head when I was far younger, I don’t have any magic left in me anyway what with this food supply and me not having the wisdom to embrace that spiritual connection in my youth, just passing the torch from one generation to another.”

    “Yes I understand your concerns, but he will value you above his parents and this may lead to future complications”.

    “Complications in what, the master plan, destiny, we, us, the human collective species get to write that do we not, I know we tend to screw it all up but why don’t you not micromanage let me be my creative intuitive self, leave me to deal with it.”

    Turns out my guide might be right as his father, who wants to be the light of his life is feeling left out when his first born son first runs to me and not him.  I am debating on how to explain to him, how it’s not his fault.  Why he should not feel inadequate.  Why his father in law is “many things” and how we agree on the basics in life.  All of these things may take a lifetime to explain and why the crossing of our paths may contribute to saving the human race.  

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