An Ugly Lesson About Kiddie Pornography.

I made a mistake on the Internet. I am a webmaster for a local church. Many of our people are brand-new computer users. Both the children and adults have flocked to some "coloring book" pages I posted on the site. You don't have to download anything. The picture and colors are all on the website. Since I had such a positive response to this particular type of activity, I began to search for more of the same.

I did a Google Search for "on-line coloring books". I clicked on the first listed entry. I was directed to a child friendly page consisting of exactly the kind of content I'm interested in. In order to enter the site I had to give a screen name and a real email address. Well, I figured I'd get spam, but I wanted to see more of this site. I was impressed enough to contact the email address provided in the "about us" section.

I never received a reply, from my inquiry. But I now have some of the nastiest spam I've ever encountered in my adult life. I am not opposed to the occasional off-color joke, or pun, but true pornography disgusts me. What I've been seeing in my spam file makes my skin crawl. Not only am I offered sex, but sex with under-aged partners (yes, both boys and girls)! This stuff is not subtle and is coming in to the tune of 40 emails a day! About the only thing I haven't been offered is a romp with a farm animal. But I'm sure I'll be getting those next week.

I am deeply troubled by this incident. First of all. The site looks totally harmless. I could have unknowingly linked this site right into my church's site, where this filth would have hit an inexperienced computer population of users. I could have let my child go on this site. Parents, maybe it isn't a good idea to give your child their own email, just to protect them from this kind of thing.

I intend to research to see if I can take legal action against this type of site. This is clearly a site set up looking for pedophiles. I can't sit by and not try to stop what these people are doing.

The Joy of Being Pampered: The Beauty Shop.

I love getting my hair done professionally. I have no clue about what looks good on me, or the desire to learn. I want to go from shower to life without pausing to fiddle with either make-up, or my hair. Enter God's perfect solution: my beautician. Oh, what a gift she is!

She refers to herself as: "a hair diva". She is young, gentle and totally serious about her line of work. Not all beauticians are created equal. I have been man-handled by foreign speaking ladies who rivaled my drunken aunt with their styling technique. I've also paid good money for professional work, where strangers would stop me in the street inquiring: "What happened to your hair?" When you find a good beautician, treasure them, tip them well and remember to share how grateful you are for their skill and dedication.

For all of us child abuse refugees, pampering is far more then a luxury of the wealthy. For myself, I find pampering is healing for my soul. I look forward to my beauty appointments, as I do to my vacations. Both experiences seem to be restorative.

My salon is both a "day spa" and beauty shop. It is pricey and up-scale. You can get a facial, or a massage, as well as getting your hair done. To get a wash, trim, color and highlight will run around $100. Yes, I have expensive tastes. But, there is a way to get a price break.

This salon believes in a type of on-going training / practice for their people. If you are willing to let your beautician expand their horizons, everything is half price. Other then giving me a green tinted Mohawk, my beautician is free to experiment. This is a real blessing for me, as $100 every six weeks would be impossible. $50, is much more do-able.

Upon arriving at my appointment, I am served coffee, and sometimes a snack, of my choice. While I wait there are expensive fashion magazines to keep me entertained. The atmosphere is very pleasant and relaxed. Unless Miss Prissy comes to call.

I am amazed at how some customers treat the staff like servants, or even pets. I marvel at the restraint the employees have with this type of treatment. I wouldn't last very long dealing with: "oh! I made a 4:35 appointment and you are LATE! I made this appointment last WEEK!" Nose held high in the air, as they basically make a public scene. I do not clean homes for customers who try that routine on me. Hats off to the fine beauticians. They take it all in stride - causing peace to return to their shop.

I was also mildly shocked to hear my stylist share how some of her "friends" come over to her home, on her day off, informing her that she can cut their hair! Trust me, on my day off I DO NOT do housework and she doesn't mess with her own hair! How entirely rude! My x-husband was a TV repair guy and "friends" would come over claiming that they just "happened" to have their 21 inch console TV in the car. Could he take a look at it? He'd tell them to bring it to the shop like everyone else!

It is true, housekeepers sometimes live in a mess, accountants occasionally keep lousy personal records and hair divas don't do hair on their own time. I can sure relate. I come home after making someone else's home look beautiful, pondering my organized chaos. Do I want to pick this place up? The short answer: NO! Well, now you know the truth.

My "hair Diva" is in a new and successful relationship. We chat about our lives and she is as grateful for her life, as I am for mine. Her gentle touch is so soothing. I'm toying with the temptation of an outrageously expensive facial, just to get some more of her gentle manner. No wonder sweet Maria likes scalp massages. I may ask her to give me one! My goodness, this last appointment at the beauty shop was just luscious.

The appointment begins with a leisurely shampoo-rinse-condition and a final rinse. My hair diva takes extra time, just because she knows I like it. Then she takes a long time to sculpt my style. She puts in the effort to do it right. Next she mixes up my hair color and dabs it on with a little paint brush. I then get more coffee and let things set up for about 20 minutes. She then completes the final styling and blow-drying. Almost two hours of heaven.

I then purchase one $20 to $30 bottle of shampoo, or conditioner. I love the smell and feel of my hair with their expensive products. I have decided that inexpensive shampoos are no more, as they tend to take the color right out of my hair. The salon products leave me feeling so pretty. Yes, its an illusion, but hey, life is to be enjoyed. What I put into my looks, you might choose to lavish on your car, or your wardrobe. We all have something. So, I leave you now, feeling beautiful, but needing to tend to my church's website.

Happy Mind Attached To A Tired Body.

Seems like I should have a party or something. I believe this will be post one hundred for this blog. Here is a paradox. Mentally, I am content and at peace, while my body is tired enough to give me the illusion of being depressed.

Yes, ladies, when that change of life stuff starts, they aren't kidding! "Change", how about: "the total physical upheaval of your entire body"? For my male readers - you all can look it up, the symptoms are well known and complained about by all of us females, at one time, or another. Mentally I have much joy, so it is easy to let my body do its thing without giving too much attention to it.

CyberGal is actually toying with the idea of making friends with a foreign concept: patience. Yes, I realize it may shock some of you, but we had a sermon on it recently. I realize that gunning my emotional motor over things I can't change is silly. I spend far too much time whining to God about how slow my little computer is. Why is it slow? I'm running five heavy duty applications, for starters! So, I realize that again, I have to remember the dreaded concept from recovery: ACCEPTANCE IS THE SOLUTION TO ALL MY PROBLEMS.

The computer is only slow when I compare how it runs using only one heavy duty application, instead of five. So, I can now free up my energy for something more constructive. Same idea when folks are late to arrive at church. I got a real clear reminder that I am not Holy Spirit Jr., and I need to stop acting like I'm losing $1,000 for every five minutes I wait for someone to come to church. I can always try something novel, while i wait, like, pray for the millions of things which prayer can improve. Prayer may even mellow my attitude, God can do all things, but only if I yield the driver's seat of my life to Him.

But, I do rejoice in my spirit. I have enough emotional and physical health and strength to actually be there for someone else. Not necessarily as a counselor, but just a buddy as we experience life together. Every time I can do something fun with another person, where they seem a bit happier for me having been there, I am telling God "thank-you". I have wonderful friends, spread across the planet. Some are coffee-and-a-good-laugh folks, while others are people I truly have trusted with my soul.

In recovery they used to teach that there are three things one must have to enjoy life:

• Something to do.
• Somewhere to go.
• And, someone to be with.

For far too many years, there were no friends, or running buddies. Today that is all changed. I have all three elements. Interesting mental work, and part-time housework, where I actually get a bit of physical exercise. As for places to go, i have short term and long term goals in that area. Various dining and shopping adventures are always close at hand, but by far, the biggest fun is the endless planning and re-planning of my week-long vacation in October of 2007 back to Boston.

By the gentle assistance of Maria, I'm actually putting money in the bank for this vacation. As 2007 rolls into view, I'll be finalizing my tentative vacation plans. For now, my goal is: six days and five nights in Boston. I want to arrive a day before the first Ig Nobel Prize presentation and leave on a Monday morning, so I can have a full day of church activities on Sunday.

Since I will have my walker in tow, I can actually take walking tours and visit some of the many historical sites Boston offers. I also look forward to meeting up with a few friends from that general area of the country. It will also be a photography paradise - fall in New England. Oh, swoon!

Let's not forget the interesting dining that awaits an eager California tourist. I want to enjoy it all. I also will have the proper additional cell phone service, where I can touch base with folks in California, to let them know they are privileged to receive a call, all the way from Boston. Half the fun of this kind of adventure is getting on the phone with sweet Maria and telling her all about it.

I also have the joy of a "normal" life. I do things everyone else does, instead of taking private trips in emergency vehicles to "closed" wards. I was riding our local bus from Smart & Final, a small warehouse store, to church, last week. I was all dressed up with my bible book bag and a large frozen sheet cake in tow. I remember when I was in my twenties and doing "normal" stuff. I was truly an emotional vacuum waiting to implode. Today I am healthy and very sure of who I am and where I'm going.

I don't have that nagging feeling of "faking it". I know this healthy life is real and stable. I pray my heart-felt thanks to God for bringing me through some very difficult times. Now, I help my friends and my church to accomplish things. We were holding a fund-raising dinner. For $10 I enjoyed some serious down-home soul food, topped off with the German Chocolate cake I brought in with me to Sunday School.

I also am rebuilding my music collection. I ordered a CD from Japan, by Marianne Faithfull for one song I have been trying to re-capture for eight years. Much to my real surprise, not everyone "likes" her voice. I always wanted to sound like her when I sing. Phillip, ponders why I: "want to sound like a wounded animal." Figuring his reaction was out of the ordinary, I checked with another musician I know. She doesn't like Marianne Faithfull's voice either! I laugh at the good-natured fun. I console myself with the knowledge: everybody has a right to be wrong (giggle)

I am always grateful when bus drivers lower the steps (on the older buses) for me and my walker. Since I'm basically relaxed and happy, the world around me seems to be a much nicer place. Jesus said you have to keep your focus on good things, not bad things. If your focus is correct your whole body is full of light. It is nice to have simple, polite chats with other riders, as we go our various ways. Two young mothers were sharing about how breast feeding seems to be better for their children. The kids were ill on the bottled formulas. I am happy to be alive and living a regular, not always exciting life.

The Freedom Of Structure: Ad Campaign, Take Two!

Yesterday I posted about my startling entry into the world of commercial making. Phillip seemed enthused and gave me feedback that made sense. So, back to my computer I went to have a second try for a commercial to sell his pod cast.

On one level I really have graduated from the out-of-control ego which hampered my life and human relationships for years. I don't greet the dawn with nausea, or worse due to performance anxiety. I don't need to drink or drug myself senseless to run from the mountain of fear that I'm just not good enough. God has delivered me from those two terrible conditions.

I realized this morning, in mild shock, that Phillip wasn't as enthralled with my second submission, as I'd imagined he'd be. I truly thought I'd taken it over the top. That my little 42 seconds would be swooped up by my friend with apologies that he couldn't pay me what it was worth! Well, I can dream, can't I? Of course, but now I had more feedback. Feedback which appeared to be challenging one of the cornerstones of my project.

He suggested I change the emphasis. Oooh! To possibly remove my brilliant application of a sound effect? Parish the thought! (uh, oh, that feels like the old pride bush has sprouted over something new.) After mulling this unanticipated situation over and FINALLY remembering to pray to God to get my ego out of this project, I realized I had run out of bright ideas. Yes, even though it would kill me, I could consider removing a sound effect, rewriting the theme, or whatever, but HOW?

It occurred to me that I started this project with hands-on stuff. Just jumped right out there and made a commercial. Now, I truly need to read something about advertising. I need some kind of structure, theory or pattern. Sadly, I have no clue as to how to continue.

Looking for books on advertising is almost as daunting a task, as looking for books about starting a business selling on eBay. A lot of expensive fluff out there! So, I found a "no, no" ebook about what NOT to do in advertising by a guy whose got a track record He claims he has been around, blah, blah, blah. I read enough of the book to know that this guy seemed to be grounded in reality and hate fluff as much as I do.

His basic idea is that advertising isn't complex. Most of it is done wrong because they break basic marketing rules. He goes into an amusing rant about how he came to be God's Representative for the Rules, but I digress.

He then proposed that true creativity comes forth best in a restricted environment. Metered poetry instead of free verse, for example. He observed that kids need rules to thrive. No rules for children gives them too many choices too early in their development With too many choices, they get overwhelmed and insecure. Bells began to ring in my mind.

I have always wondered why a religious discipline seems to work so well for me. I know what is expected and therefore don't have to waste my time trying to guess how to function in my church, or in my life. (I really enjoy finding secular support for what God claims is correct. Adults need structure too). What has me staggered are the thousands of options my mind has for my little commercial. I have no idea of the theory of good advertising and therefore I have absolutely no place to start from.

For those of you curious about a good overview of advertising I'll provide a link to the book. Done with wonderful humor, you get to experience the good, the bad and mainly the tacky, in advertising.

And Now A Few Words From Me

I sense I've stumbled onto yet another key to my recovery. Sane rules and structure encourage, not retard creativity and growth. What a concept! I have gotten well enough to judge the sane from the insane, as far as structure goes. I used to believe that rules and discipline were the enemy of my soul. Rationally and sanely applied, they very well might be the wind beneath my wings.

So, after a few weeks of study, I'll once again tackle my little commercial. Phillip has no trouble letting me know when something I do, is not ready for prime time. I believe I still might actually end up producing a useful ad. I sure like the challenge. And, if not, I have yet another chance to do some pruning on that ever-present crab grass of the soul: my pride bush.

I Created My First Promotional Campaign!

This is proof positive that Jesus Christ can and does change peoples hearts and lives from the inside outward. For those of you who have followed this blog for awhile, it is not news that for most of my 53 years I've been an emotional train wreck. I was punished so severely, in an undisciplined manner, that I refused to do anything, unless I was sure I would ace it. You can't learn new things with that kind of attitude. I also used to live for the "goal" and ignore the pain of the "process" of achieving the "goal". If you can't stand studying accounting, or any kind of mathematics, you should not think that becoming a CPA will make you happy. Trust me, it won't. You hated the training - you're gonna hate the job at the end of that training.

I continue to grow and change. I notice I am no longer afraid to try something totally new, even risking looking a bit foolish, as I learn. Only God could create that radical a change in this terrified child. I started this growth groping my way through a rough process of developing the web site for my church. Phillip was a major source of help and encouragement, until I gained a bit of confidence. Phillip, is also a mentor for me.

I tend to watch what he does and experiment with it, to see if I like the activity. Since Phillip never met something new he didn't like, he is always doing new things, or changing old things around. He told me that one of his pod casts was losing audience and he needed to get some promos out to remind people of his pod cast. I've discovered, among other things, that I'm a natural promoter. If I think you are cool, I'll talk you up to anyone and everyone.

I'm 53 going on 12. I have this lovely illusion, that I can accomplish almost anything, as long as I start small. So, never having studied advertising, broadcasting or marketing, I sat down to whip out a commercial for Phillip's pod cast! Only total ignorance of the process encourages such leaps into the unknown.

I love the commercials that are like little stories, especially, if they are humorous. So, I found a few cool sound effects on the web, fired up Garage Band and hobbled together my first ever promo! Phillip had already alerted me to the reality that he knows what he wants to do and where he wants to go with the show and the odds of me matching that were slim. In other words, he probably wouldn't use whatever I created.

After 20 years of being too sick to be in the game of life at all, I really don't care if my work gets used, or not. I am just so thankful to have the strength and emotional energy to make a commercial, at all! I learned in computer programming: if you hate the training, you aren't going to like the job either!

I struggled to be a programmer, got there and realized I was happier as a data entry operator! I want to explore different activities, to see if I like them enough to continue to work at them. I think this stage of life is worked on by most 12-year-old children. So, I got my file together and actually had the guts to email it to Phillip.

I fully expected him to react like he did with a piece of novel-writing I'm attempting. Basically, I need to do some spade work with grammar and technique. In short: don't quit cleaning houses just yet. Phillip liked my promotion idea, but wanted me to go further with it. "You done good!" I am pondering the changes I want to make now. I figured he'd glean some idea from my attempt and run with it. How amazing that I actually came up with something he likes as a promotional idea. God is so awesome. God has given me courage in place of terror and gratitude in place of an out-of-control ego. I am just so thankful to be participating in this game of life.

My Deepest Appreciation To The Idiots Who Made The "Homeless" Blind Possible.

If you haven't caught it, I'm raging angry. I have been angry for years over legislation that came about in the mid 90's. The Americans With Disabilities Act. In theory, we (now liberated) blind would "force" the able-bodied to "fairly accommodate" us. I still remember the yoga-like chant which rose from all quarters: "With the properer accommodations, we (blind) can do anything". Do you mean, you would be willing to have a totally blind neurosurgeon, auto, train, or plane jockey? Then I was mocked, as one who was just not "getting it".

Friends, I tried to live the lie of "everything is possible", my religious friends not withstanding. There is a rule in life:

Everyone Has Limits!

I hate to break this to some of you, but life involves circumstances and choices. No, we did not choose to be blind, but we have choices to make about dealing with being blind. From what I've seen of the post-ADA world, that little gem has and is causing a world of unanticipated and unintentional hurt, which could have been prevented, if people had really thought it through.

Take a look at this article. Note how this blind man is HOMELESS, and the reasons sited as to WHY. All the ADA has done is put more money into lawyers hands and stripped the blind, of what used to be "available" housing. This is one of those times I hate being correct. Read this and weep, NFB! (National Federation of the Blind)

You want to come after me with a law suit? I'm unemployed, live in a twelve foot by twelve foot room with a sink, no bathroom, heat, or closet. Don't qualify for subsidized housing because the "homeless" and the "aids" patients always bump me down the list. Oh, come on, you want to sue me? I'll put up the daily court transcripts on this blog to show the world, who, at least, some of you are, and what you are really about. By-the-way, that palatal estate mentioned above costs almost half of my total social security income. I CHOSE these circumstances, because I no longer have to sleep with a hammer under my pillow at night because of the crime INSIDE the building! Oh, thank-you all so much for the ADA!

He said, they said: Did trolley cops do a blind man wrong?

By Kelly Davis

San Diego CityBEAT, CA,August 23, 2006

Emmett Smith's not sure exactly where on the wall he was sitting when it
happened-could have been one section over, he says-but it was close to the
midway point along Imperial Avenue between 13th and 14th streets. He was
sitting on the 3-foot-high wall that surrounds Petco's "tailgate park"
parking lot, underneath the ivy-covered awning on the lot's perimeter. It
was July 18, around 7 p.m., and the Padres were about to take the field in a
game against the Philadelphia Phillies.

On his lap Smith had a Tupperware container with a mix of high-grade and
lower-grade marijuana; he was mixing it up, breaking up the larger pieces by
feel. He says he heard a man's voice say, "Whoa, look at that," and then,
Smith said, the container was jerked from his hands.

Smith has glaucoma, one of the ailments listed by name in the text of
Proposition 215, the 1996 voter-approved ballot initiative that allows
people to use marijuana with a doctor's recommendation. Marijuana, Smith
says, cuts down on the painful inner-eye pressure glaucoma causes. Smith is
also legally blind-a detached retina, the result of a boxing injury, left
him with no sight in his right eye and his glaucoma is too far-gone to
correct. A doctor told him he'll likely be completely blind within six
months. He has no peripheral vision in his left eye, and when pressure
builds up, he sees only shapes and shadows.

The downside to using marijuana for glaucoma is that it requires a person to
smoke a lot to get relief-something Smith, who hadn't used marijuana until a
year or so ago, isn't happy about. But, he says, the marijuana helps him see
clearer, "like you're adjusting a camera." Smith, who bears a resemblance to
Jack Nicholson-but with longer hair-wears large, dark wraparound glasses and
carries a mobility cane. He's also homeless. He worked up until he lost his
sight three years ago, managing a club in Las Vegas. Now he gets by on
Social Security and lives at St. Vincent de Paul Village, just a block over
from the parking lot. He's been looking for a place to rent since
September-he can afford up to $600 a month-but no one will rent to him, he
said, because his impaired vision makes him a liability.

St. Vincent de Paul, an enclave for the homeless and working poor, doesn't
allow drug use, medicinal marijuana included, on its city-block-size East
Village property, so Smith found what he thought was a safe spot to smoke
marijuana, down the street from St. Vincent's-he's had joints ripped from
his mouth elsewhere downtown, he said-at a spot that doesn't get too much
foot traffic, especially not families and kids. Smith says the San Diego
police officers who patrol the area know who he is. He's been ticketed once
for possession, but the officer, Smith said, came back later and tore up the
ticket.

"The [San Diego Police Department] has been nothing but nice," Smith said.
"I show them my [doctor's recommendation], and they walk away. They know I
don't sell, and they know I don't share."

When he felt someone grab the container from his hands, Smith's boxer's
instincts kicked in. He thought he'd just been robbed and he jumped up,
ready to fight, but one of the men-Smith says he could make out three guys
who he assumed where heading to the baseball game-pushed him back down. As
Smith remembers, one of the guys said, "We're undercover."

"Undercover who?" Smith asked. "They wouldn't tell me where they were from."


Smith says he followed the men across the street and into the transit
station at 12th and Imperial. There they told him they were undercover
trolley security and cited Smith for possessing marijuana on Metropolitan
Transit District property (the wall Smith was sitting on when the marijuana
was seized is not within MTS jurisdiction).

Smith says he showed the officers his doctor's recommendation, which, he
says, he carries with him at all times in his knapsack. The security
officers told him it wasn't valid and threatened to handcuff him, Smith
said, when he demanded they return his marijuana.

Dennis Jackson, a security captain with the San Diego Metropolitan Transit
System, confirmed that the incident occurred but said he couldn't comment on
Smith's version of events because it's a pending court case. "That's his
version; my officers have a different version," he said. As for MTS policy
on medical marijuana, "If you have a doctor's slip on you, then it's fine.
But you can't use [medical marijuana] on our property." Smith, Jackson said,
was arrested on MTS property.

An attorney at St. Vincent de Paul referred Smith to Patrick Dudley, a San
Diego lawyer who's represented medical-marijuana users. Dudley says it's
likely the San Diego City Attorney won't prosecute Smith, who's been charged
with a misdemeanor and is scheduled to be arraigned on Aug. 29. But Dudley
will have to ask a judge to order MTS to return Smith's marijuana. Dudley
says he's talked to a witness who corroborates Smith's version of events.

"If my officers were wrong," Jackson said, "then his marijuana would be
returned it and that would be a training issue that we would discuss with
the officers in the future."

http://www.sdcitybeat.com/article.php?id=4704

Playground: The New Blogger. Beta!

Some of you LOVE HTML. I'm getting used to the idea of actually having to cuddle up and get close to it and CSS, but give me drag and drop any day! I am amazed how I have resisted changing my blog template. I hate the color scheme that is in regular displays - various colors of orange - but it is BEAUTIFUL in reverse video! So, you're just gonna have to live with it for awhile, as to change it will blow away my "cool links" and other changes I've made. (A fate almost worse then death!)

This editor isn't much different from the old one, at least at the data entry stage. We'll continue to 'explore' as I cobble together this post.

Doesn't appear to be much new on the WYSIWYG entry side of things... Now for what I desperately need the most THE SPELLCHECKER!

All works well, but if the spellchecker thinks something is wrong, the only way to turn off the highlighting is to switch your editing mode. HTML to Compose, or vice versa.

Now, to publish. Which is now faster. I'll have more serious content shortly. But I just had to chime on on the blogger.beta debate. I say:

Good Job Blogger!

"...We Interrupt To Opine About Technical Difficulties."

(Actually written week of: 8/13 - 8/18, but didn't get it edited and up until today.)

I am dog sitting all this week and have permission to use Maria and John's eMac while I'm here. Their system is much more complex then mine and I am VERY careful not to install things that may tear it all up!. (I did that once, with some. Bible software. Poor John had a three-hour trial by fire, undoing whatever my program did to the system!)

So, I use what is here and don't modify things. Got latest updates for Tiger, but not for firefox... They have yahoo DSL and when I need firefox, I have to leave the other browser running, or the DSL connection gets confused (oh sigh!)

So, here I am, not really angry, but amused at what happens when my high magnification meets a friend's blog. I also have an amazing "startle" reflex. If I hear a sound I'm not expecting, or accustomed to, I basically try to leap into the air. One hand flies off keyboard and mouse-hand shoves the mouse, God-only-knows-where! I choose to laugh and smile at these things. This system is a bit slower for me, but I'm physically comfortable and in no pain.

CyberGal has a very active cyber social life. I have more cyber pals, then actual physical people I know in my neighborhood! I downloaded and installed both Skype and Adium on this machine to keep in contact with my Cyber Pals. On my machine at home I have customized both programs to where they only make sounds for in-coming messages. I'm used to these sounds and quickly switch between my current project and a instant message chat, or phone call.

On this machine I am stuck with default settings. And my nervous system has been getting a workout. I hope to meet the programmer who designed the alert sound for a buddy coming on or going off Adium. It sounds like a duck on LSD! The alert sounds for incoming and outgoing messages are really hysterical. A really bad attempt at "deflate" and "inflate". They both kind of sound like a moose in pain. So, here I am, creating a stupendous, outrageous email and this strange sound blasts through the speakers - "oh look ma- she's airborne."

As I'm getting used to this set up, I don't jump as much, but it still kills me, when I get that sound of well, passing gas, or an animal in pain. So, I'm exploring a new thing I found on google. Their google labs. A place where stuff they are still developing can be tried out and talked about. This is the technical side of me. I love playing with new software, or hardware, for that matter. So, I'm settling down and playing with some cool programs. Then: "Let the system conflicts begin!"

Their default browser is Safari, which is fine, but google labs won't function with safari. Fine, so I launch firefox. No dice, they don't have the newest Mac update! Oh, well. I'll save my google play for when I get home.

I'm working under high magnification, which means I'm only actually seeing a little part of the full screen at any one time. Depending on the font size, 4 to 6 words across and 3 to 4 lines down. So, I surf over to Phillip's blog - no new post, but he has google ads installed. They ads are content sensitive. In an earlier post he'd spoken of having a rash. So, I am hovering my mouse near his blog photo and just happen to see "cat rash". I talk to myself, computers, walls and anything else around. So I queried: "How in the world did he get THAT?" I then slid the mouse over to the beginning of the line and realized I was looking at an ad link!

Maria and John have never launched iTunes (!) So, I'm hesitant to set them up with all my beloved pod casts. (Oh, this is so wonderful). A friend informed me, that I should be able to listen to the pod casts via the browser on the internet. YES! Now I know I'm hopelessly addicted to Metro Moment, MacNation and Buzz Out Loud! Really scary. Its time to think about a laptop, or hopefully getting permission to remotely control my own Mac using their machine. I even miss my NetNewsWire news feeds. I can get news, but its not my pre-selected and time tested sources. Yeah, I'm a geek. "without my computer, who am I?"

Plantronics: A Business That Does It Right... How Refreshing!

To protect the guilty, I will not name the $60 piece of junk, headset I purchased. In absolute frustration, I went to the Apple Store and begged their customer representative to sell me a headset which would last more then fifteen days. They introduced me to Plantronics. For $79 I got a beautiful computer headset with noise canceling stuff, in-line volume and mute control plus some other features I don't even pretend to understand.

I'm under headsets all day. I'm either doing computer telephony, listening to, or recording something. After three months my audio cut out. Ironically, I'd just been asked to record a small bit for a pod cast. To add to the above, I'm on the road at the moment and won't be returning home until sometime next week.

Like most customers, I have receipts saved on the computer, but don't remember product numbers, purchase dates, or especially serial numbers. Figuring I'd be in for another chat with someone from India, I braced myself to:

"be nice, no matter what happens."

Friends, Apple gave me a fourteen day warranty, but Plantronics warranty is good for a YEAR! I got a representative who was a NATIVE English reader and speaker. (Oh, be still my heart!) Laurel found my records, gave me clear and simple instructions AND presented the wonderful news that the replacement would be shipping as soon as she received my information, via email!

I'm so accustomed to being lied to, baited and switched or "legally claused" to death, I didn't trust Plantronics website. With a knowing smirk I skimmed their assertion about priding themselves on providing excellent quality customer service.

There are times, when being wrong is a blessing!

So, if you need accessories for your cell phone, computer, etc., check these folks out. plantronics.com

Excellent Feedback and Friends.

This comment is too good to languish in the comments section. This is in reaction to my less-then-mature-rant, Disability: "We Need Volunteers, But We Didn't Mean You"

Dear Cybergal,

I'm letting you know this is a really long reply that addresses several issues that you've mentioned. Sorry it's long, as soon as I can master using less words I'll make it shorter. :-P

So, what I'd like to address is this post here. I was going to try to cover two posts - but this is LONG. As I'm wont to do, I'm going to shoot straight with you and say something to you like I would to anyone else that is an adult. In order to do so properly I'm going to have to deconstruct a little of what you posted because you really were dealing with more than one issue at a time, and I believe that you're confusing the issues.

First issue: Disability. Not to be cold, heartless or to seem uncaring or concerned - but I think at this point (53 years young) you should have a firm grasp on the fact that you don't move as quickly or see as well as folks that are fully ambulatory and sighted do. This is a disability. This limits what you can and can't do, regardless of your great heart. Welcome to the rest of our worlds. I know that many of the rest of us are not physically disabled, but you know what - we ALL HAVE LIMITATIONS. That's why there are many parts of the body.

Dear friend - from your mouth to God's ear! What ever gave you the impression I have a "firm grasp" on my disabilities? Some like occasional dips into that river Denial. For myself, I bought a houseboat and occasionally, try to live there!

Let me share an example. I wonder if you know what it feels like - as a guy - to sit there and watch or hear guys talking about all kinds of plumbing or building stuff, talk about tools or even building stuff for the church - when the whole time you've got no clue! Surprise, I do! That's a limitation! Yes, part of it is that I've not had time or prioritized those skills - but it's STILL a limitation. So, you know what I do? I carry my PowerBook with me to church - just in case. Guess what I got to do? How about rescue a situation for a visiting minister who's PC wouldn't plug into our AV system, and whose file couldn't play with audio on our PC. I got to make a DVD! Viola! They get to play their video as part of what they're ministering. Let me see the plumber do that baby! HA. And that's the point.

I never considered "limitation" in this context before. For a man not to be familiar with all tools, all the time must have been painful, until God showed you a better way.

You see Cybergal, you may not be able to help around the church cleaning up, but you can contribute in a vital way to your church and to the body - just like you do with your computer. That's why the body is made up of many parts, because all of us have to contribute our own gifts and abilities. Just like you don't want a toe for an ear, you don't want a nose for a finger either. There are lots of people that can't carry a tune in a bucket that have the spirit of a worshiper - but they aren't going to be on the worship team anytime soon! They may have that as part of who they are, but God has given them other gifts to use for the edification of the body - not singing! So, if they're smart and mature Christians do you know what they do? They worship God in the song service, they sing in their shower and they use their - oh, how about TEACHING gift to minister to the body! Use the gifts that you have where you're supposed to and you won't have to worry about being disabled, OK?

This is a beautiful example of "telling the truth in love". Phip's goal is to bring me along to a more realistic outlook. He is gently alerting me to my very real "tunnel vision" and "wishing makes it so" mentality.

There is no put down, or shaming here. The difference between: (guilt) "I made a mistake" and (shame) "I AM a mistake" (From: Bradshaw on: The Family) Oh the joy of recognizing mental health, mine and others!

The SECOND issue that you really were talking about is SOCIALIZATION. You wanted to "serve" because that's when you perceive that people socialize. Well, I'd have to tell you that your perception is about 70-80% faulty! Most people that are staying to serve in that manner, to clean up, break down, set up - are not there to socialize. They are there to get what needs to be done, done. Period, paragraph. Oh sure, if some are single they may hang out a bit more, but if they're married or have children they're doing what God has called them to do and then they're going to fulfill other responsibilities of marriage and family - which I can tell you from experience are multitude! You know, there's a reason why they're moving that quickly and it's not just so they can sit down and shoot the breeze in the sanctuary afterwards. OK?

So, to socialization. We both know that I'm married, but I wasn't always. In fact, I was almost 32 when I got married. I dealt with being single and being a Christian. Let me share this with you in all honesty: the grass is still always greener on the other side of the fence! I'm not saying that marriage isn't great, it is. I am saying that it isn't REMOTELY what I was expecting. The biggest thing about being married and being a parent is that your time is no longer your own. Ever. Even being married it's a job to socialize. But, I can tell you the secret that I learned as a young single guy. Adopt a family :-). If you want to socialize with married people, then go where the married people go when they go. Do the same church social gatherings. Do prayer (like you do) and mid-week services (like you do). GO to the married people's homes (if you're not invited, ask if you can visit and volunteer to bring something - like BREAD or something! whatever!). Be prepared to do whatever the family is doing. That's how you socialize. If there are some older singles, then get together and do something that older singles might like to do - as opposed to what 20-something singles like to do (like play volleyball - and what is attractive about that anyway?)

When I'm not all tangled up in fear and "future tripping", I can hear what you are saying, and am open to learning something new. The relief of realizing that God will meet my needs takes all the pressure off of me to "force something to happen". For the first time I remember, it is getting easier to receive feedback. "God does not give us a spirit of fear, but of power, love and a sound mind" I continue to see this verse work in and through my life.

To whit, I've got a friend that I really like. He's single and makes as much as I do when I'm working full time. Obviously, he's got loads of money to burn - while I'm paying a mortgage and clothing and feeding 4 kids. He'll IM me or give me a yell and ask if I want to catch a movie in the middle of a Saturday. SURE! I'll blow off the family on about the only free day I have and go to a movie while I leave my poor wife home alone again with the 4 kids. NOT!!!!! So, what do I do? I say, hey! Come on down! We'll make dinner for you, we'll send the kids downstairs to watch a video, we'll have coffee and chat. That's what most couples with kids do. That's why we always have friends that have kids - we've learned to throw them in a room with some food and a movie, lock the door and enjoy an hour or so of conversation :-) Anyway, you got the gist?

The kind of other-centered behavior you describe is the second reason I decided to never have children. When it comes to selflessness, baby, I gotta a ways to go! The first and most important reason, was the terrible childhood I experienced. I know my mother never intended to hurt me the way she did. I will not take the chance of injuring another child, as I was injured.

I have periods like an absent-minded professor. I'll work for eleven hours straight, only coming up for air when hunger, or exhaustion set it! Not a great personality for a marriage!

THIRD issue. Lastly. The real issue that you're dealing with here is not disability or socialization, it's self image. This is not the same as the need to be liked, wanted and needed. We all need that, some more than others. With your temperament (you Sanguine I you!), you have a tendency to need a bit more confirmation than other temperaments do - but that isn't the issue. Frankly, I can pretty much go without anyone telling me I did a good job or I'm a nice guy or whatever these days. (outside my wife that is - but that's part of the relationship). Why is that? Because I'm really comfortable with who I am in God, and with what he's telling me to do. (emphasis added) I don't need your affirmation, I don't need my pastor's. If I'm doing what I'm supposed to do, I don't really even care if you like me. I'm not going to be crushed.

Was I always like this? OH LORD NO! I used to be a complete basket case if someone else got invited over to a common acquaintances home or out to dinner and I didn't! I'd be despondent, I'd scream at God, I'd cry, I'd get angry, I'd wail pitifully, I'd pout. You name it. I'd be devastated. But why was that? It was because I had a self-image problem. I didn't really understand how much God loved me. I didn't grasp just how wonderfully I was made. I couldn't (and still really can't) comprehend his wonderful can caring attention to me, the marvelous way he constructed me or the incredible things he has planned for me. (emphasis added) Thankfully, after almost 24 years walking the walk - I'm now getting a clue. :-) And I know that you are too. If you weren't you wouldn't have even begun to post these posts. You see my friend, the best way to get a good self-image is to get the real GOD-image of us. Once we're comfortable with that, it gets much easier. Oh yes, and people like hanging around us more too.

So, there ya have it. My two cents worth, which, with inflation and all that isn't even a penny's worth anymore. Sigh. So, would you like me to share with you my thoughts on loneliness now? :-D

Shalom my friend!
Phillip

As I mull all this over I am filled with an unspeakable joy. My abuse was all about NEVER having REAL needs consistently met. I'm not sure I totally relate to all you have shared about who I am in God, but this I know. GOD ALWAYS MEETS MY NEEDS. It is far more then "never seeing the righteous forsaken". You rightly perceive I have a really high need for approval and affirmation. God meets those needs! I don't have to do HIS job and mine too! There is a new found sense of security I'm discovering. I can live my life without the mind-numbing "what-if" fears which have ruled my entire life. I can listen, learn and make mistakes in SAFETY!

Having a gentle conversation about an error is a far cry from my old fear: "When you blow it, they'll ask you to leave". I have a wonderful sense of relaxation and peace.

This is recovery, this is what facing your monsters will enable you to have FOR REAL: peace and a sense of safety.

The New manhood Test: To Be Without Carry-Ons!

Sadly, our world is not a safe place any more. A small minority of crazed Islamic fanatics wish all us "Infidels" dead. I had the sad task of notifying a friend of the new rules of the air as he prepared to leave on a business trip. Like all of us, when traveling, he has a routine and habit patterns. Now, it is all up for grabs. No liquids allowed. The reasoning for this rule is sound. Someone came very close to making ten bombs by mixing liquids in the bathrooms of ten planes. We were lucky, one of this group got cold feet and ratted out the others. Next time, we may not be so lucky.

I'm listening to a democratic gay guy I love to let irritate me, on the radio. He is a flaming gay and PROUD of it. He makes most PMS-ing women look serene. He is SCREAMING about having the RIGHT to take his cosmetics on a plane! I suspect he applies more substances to his body then my friend uses to paint his house! This talk show host is howling that the terrorists have WON because HE can't carry on his cosmetics! Now, mind you, this democratic radical feels that nothing the republicans have done is correct. So, he rants about how we have lost our way of life. I feel a CyberGal rant a'brewing!

If one plane had been blown out of the sky, this same person would be blaming the republicans for THAT. Oh, he has the amazing attitude that he'd rather get killed on a plane with his carry-ons, then to surrender "our way of life". Somehow, I suspect he'd soil his undies if ever actually THREATENED! Oh, these people! (Being so, oh, so GAY, He'd battle them with a big feather!)

Next year, I plan on flying from California to Boston. I'm not looking forward to whatever I have to endure for pre-boarding. Since I have a walker, I assume we might be doing some disassembling. Terrorists are willing to booby-trap Red Cross ambulances, why not a walker? But, I will abide by the rules, whatever they are. I just can't see trying to explain to Jesus, why I insisted on dying on a flight because of my little jar of Tender Touch Tushie Wash.

Recovery: Facing The LONELINESS Monster.

I let myself post a blog of a battle I was just beginning to figure out. While I do want to participate in life as fully as possible as a disabled person, the reality is: it isn't always practical, or fair to do so. My hysterical quest to be included in everything, everywhere and all the time stems from a fear that has ruled my life.

I hate being lonely. I crave human contact, and for a number of reasons, have spent countless hours completely by myself. I did not realize what the root issue was, until I did the post on being excluded because of a disability. This is yet another example of how I have learned to rely on God and my faith, to solve problems that have dogged me for years.

First, I want to address the practical side of inclusion in activities for me with my low vision and dreadful balance issues. No one would willingly give me their car keys with my vision in its current state. To seriously make such a request puts people in a really unfair position. Luckily, I have no need to, or desire to drive a car, so the issue in such clear relief doesn't show itself.

My church believes that, whenever possible, willing workers should be put to work. They feel that to slow down for my safety isn't an unfair compromise. I am not sure if I totally agree, but I love them for "living" what they say they believe they should be doing because they follow Jesus Christ. I totally admire their attitude and execution of becoming more and more like Jesus and less and less like their former self-centered selves.

I have been on projects where to get it done fast was the only thing keeping me from much needed sleep, so I can see the drive for speed, as well as the desire for fairness. Personally, when I need sleep, I am driven to wrap things up as fast as possible.

But yesterday I cried at several points in the afternoon, before, during and after posting about inclusion and disability. I realized that my absolute over-the-top fear of being left alone, as in abandonment is an issue I need to lift up before God, so He can calm my fears and teach me to rely on Him to meet my needs. Forcing myself upon humanity is CyberGal trying to meet her needs in my own strength and wisdom. The Bible teaches that both of those sources of performance are sorely lacking. I know that I have some serious deficits when it comes to social situations. Yesterday I admitted that what I have been attempting to "do" about loneliness for myself is not working and I "came to the end of myself". This is a good thing.

It is only when you realize that:

• I can't.
• God can.
• I decide to let Him.

I have already learned that God is very, very kind and gentle with me. When I have a problem, fear, concern or just feel bad. God literally lets me "sense" His presence. I have gotten so used to this gift, that at times, I forget that God has ALWAYS honored my very real need for a very radical kind of assurance and comfort. God is almost a physical thing for me. I can't touch Him, but I can truly say I can feel when He's listening to me, or responding to me.

I don't hear Him speak (as I'd be on the emergency psychiatric line in a heartbeat) if I started hearing voices! But I can hear, like a soft ringing in my ears. It isn't tinnitus. I do have that from time to time, and the sound quality is very different. So yesterday, I just found myself feeling very sad. I had work to do on the bulletin and I wanted to get my Hiroshima remembrance post done. At 12:30 I went to bed and just told God I felt really sad and needed help to regain a sense of faith in Him. I wasn't sure where the problem was, except it had to do with what I consider to be one of my major short comings, mainly my marginal social skills.

Then I remembered that whenever I have (finally) figured it out that I just don't have a clue as to how to do something, God always teaches me. I've had job situations, where He has literally given me new directions of thought, which were the missing pieces of information to complete a new task. Being almost clueless socially is just another skill GOD CAN TEACH ME.

I also remembered a key concept. If I trust God, then I have to believe that when I really NEED something, He will provide it! How many people have come to my door with a prepared meal in tow, sheepishly wondering why they just "had" to cook and bring me a meal? When I used to get hopelessly panicked, food was one of the few ways God could show me that He was with me. My friends were confused, but I heard the love message from my God loud and clear - and gained strength from it.

I then turned on my mp3 Bible and went to sleep until 6:30 this morning. I gulped down a bit of coffee and finished putting today's bulletin together. I prayed I wouldn't be crying at church, as I now understand the tears go way back to childhood and fear, not whether or not I could help the clean-up crew on this one particular day. I kept reminding myself of all the ways God has NEVER failed me, when I've gotten honest and really run to Him.

I have a Pastor who seems to understand the strange combination of shatteredness and strength which is my make-up. On the one hand, if God told me to chew Him out and I knew for sure it was a divinely ordered situation, I'd march in like a lion and deliver the message, no matter the cost. Yet at the same time, sharp, critical words can just crumple me into almost suicidal tears. I believe the severity of my reaction is partly the bi-polar thing, but it also stems from the brutality I've experienced most of my life.

I sent pastor an eCard, I thought was very humorous and at the same time, sweet and uplifting. Pastor understands that in some ways, I don't understand what is and is not proper behavior within our very conservative denomination. So, Saturday morning, before the Prayer Breakfast, he pulled me aside and very gently let me know that there was a problem with the eCard I'd sent.

I still feel this is such a miracle. I am not afraid of pastor. I don't feel like I have to walk on egg shells when I'm around him. He is always so GENTLE. I sense he really doesn't want to make me sad, or more sad, then is necessary. I would do almost anything for that dear man.
This is my first encounter with authority where I don't feel I have to be on "perfect" behavior.

You know, the way you would act, say if the Pope, or the President, showed up for dinner. You would not be in a relaxed, casual frame of mind. With pastor I've learned that he is willing to actually answer my confused questions and its okay for me to make mistakes. I don't fear being thrown away because my judgment, at times, is a bit worldly. I have so much joy over this. I've done more actual changing in this church because I'm not afraid, then I've done anywhere. This process is so healing. I don't know any other way to express it.

For me, this all gets back to how I've learned to trust God and His control over my life. My first church in the Church of God in Christ denomination was run by a very different kind of Pastor. I still love Pastor Shields, but I must have needed a change, because I did permanently change churches and the change appears to be something I was SUPPOSED to do.

I assume I must have needed a different type of church and Pastor, as they are now both successfully in my life. I can rest in the knowledge that God is in charge of meeting my "needs". I can stop pushing so hard, using the advice of the world and let God teach me a new way. All I know, is this system of trusting The Bible over my own judgment has yielded untold moments of peace and true physical, emotional, mental and spiritual healing.

I pray to God, just like I'd have a conversation with any person. I don't mean that as an insult to God. I say "Good Morning" and "Good Night" to Him, just as I would any other friend in my home. I can pray aloud, when alone, but I can "think" all the prayers I want on the street, without appearing like a religious fanatic. For those of you who are single and pining after not being single any more, try this.

I went to a nice restaurants and got stood up by my companion. I almost let myself dissolve into tears. I had that taste in my mouth. I was really close to ruining a chance to eat out. Instead I mentally thought of Jesus Christ sitting across from me, and proceeded to share with Him how cool I thought things were. The spot of sunlight that had flopped across part of the beautiful oriental rug. The live plants, trees and bushes within the restaurants, how intricate it all was. How kind the staff had always been and were being to me. Before I realized it, I was having a lovely time. Alone, but not lonely.

I taught myself to pray. I dare you to try it. You will feel really silly at first. Just do it anyway. So, maybe you think you are only talking to The Easter Bunny, or the ceiling. God isn't angry about your confusion. If you keep it up for at least two weeks, I'd be surprised if you don't have a change of mind about the possible existence of God.

Give Him a chance. What if He is real and you can have some of that "comfort" you long for. You have nothing to lose. While you're looking up at that ceiling,by-the-way, think about the beauty all around you. Good engineering that has provided you with a house that hasn't fallen down, plants, animals and the other amazing human beings populating your world.

We Shall Not Forget: Hiroshima, August 6, 1945, 8:15 AM.

Mankind has introduced the Atomic Bomb. "My God, what have we done?" (From log book entry by co-pilot of the Enola Gay, the B-29 which dropped the first A-Bomb on Hiroshima, Japan, August 6, 1945. 8:15 AM Japanese Standard Time.

Although only approximately 150,000 were killed within the first few days of this incident, the totality and swiftness of it, is arresting. Most of an entire city evaporated, burned, melted and or crystallized within seconds.

Ever since the start of the Iraq war I've heard the ridiculous idea of "small", "tactical" nuclear weapons. This is impossible. Can you only guarantee to vaporize a city block, one neighborhood or have you forgotten the on-going suffering of those who survived the blast? I am going to summarize some brief statistics and give a link to the book. I pray humanity isn't this stupid again.

No, not just "who started it?" (Japan) or "we ended it"(United States). All sides in a war are wrong when entire areas measured in square miles are destroyed with one weapon.

Chapter 2: Gathering Details. from: Hiroshima by John Hersey

Totals for Hiroshima:
150 Doctors before A-Bomb, 65 dead, 85 hurt
1080 nurses before A-Bomb, 1054 hurt after A-Bomb

Totals at The Red Cross Hospital:
6 out of 30 doctors survived
10 out of 200 nurses Survived
600 bed hospital invaded by 10,000 patients. There was just no way to save more people in the early days after the bombing.

Let's Personalize this, shall we?
These are rough figures, but, take a map out, or use google earth and put your home in the center of a circle with a radius of 2 miles. (Circle will be 4 miles across, with your house in the middle.) Within this area, everything was basically destroyed in varying degrees, from one bomb.

Area of our circle = pi(2 miles)(2 Miles) = (3.14)(4) = 12 .56 Square Miles of rubble!

Compared to what we have available today, this destruction is child's play!

Sadly, as a species, we have drenched the planet in our own blood. I respectfully remember the dead and pray for the living.

Disability: "we Need Volunteers, But We Didn't Mean You."

Hello impotency, despondency and tears which never seem to end. Here's the deal as I've lived it. The unsaid rule is something like this: "We know you can't really be useful, so, we'll give you money. Now, please, just go away." You show me a major disability and I will show you a person who has trouble believing they are really worth anything. Why? Because in big and small ways, they constantly, receive the above message. There is a chronic isolation that drives the disabled to befriend each other, as sometimes, trying to befriend the able bodied just gets too hard. Eventually we get smart and a) quit trying, b) quit hoping and c) accept the realities of a) and b).

This is one of the few times I long to get really drunk. A swamp of pain is floating around with no satisfactory solution. We had a church breakfast today. It was a major event. Big wigs from the district were there and I had stated my intention to stay behind and help clean up. The last time we had a meal I had to exit before clean-up due to other commitments. Up until today I was under the illusion that my participation in physical labor was useful and wanted. I made the mistake of trying once again and believing, that, "this time, this group of people, would be different". Since I haven't been able to ditch blindness or the newest addition to my gig, walking issues, how can things be different?

Everyone was rushing around while I cleared a few plastic dishes and threw them away. I stubbed my toe on a chair, but for me, that is no big deal. I was asked by person A, to bring her dishes from the kitchen area, to be washed. Upon arriving in the kitchen person B, was just a little too polite and solicitous when she brought me back to reality:

"We're moving pretty fast back here. I don't want you to get hurt." Translation. Please go away, we work faster and safer without you.

I saw the writing on the wall and quickly informed person A, of my intension to leave. She then went back very angry at person B - until she got clued in to the situation. Then person A, didn't try to dissuade me from leaving. I'm sure everyone felt bad, but with me gone, they could get on with life without needless delay.

Friends, this stuff still really hurts. It hurts bad enough I feel like doing something stupid, childish and rebellious. As I said, right now, I wish I could get drunk out of my mind. The problem with this situation, is I do work slower, see less and basically would slow down the hysterical pace of a bunch of dedicated church people who saw a way to get gone as fast as possible. Unlike racism, where there is nothing physical hindering performance, I can hardly compete up against someone with 20/20 vision who is totally ambulatory.

I used to think it was my pride that is screaming. I just can't quite find peace over being so isolated. Oh, sure, I do things for the church. Real things, but they are done off site, at my computer, alone. It is the lack of company that is killing me. Now I see why I can't shake this one. I had the same problem on the job and in school. As long as we are at our work stations, pews, or desks I was welcome to be there. But, socially, where to you get to know people? Volunteering together, or going out to eat. Activities away from work, school, or church. I am having to grieve the loss of something I thought I had found. A way to make some social inroads. Yes, part of it is my fault. I don't know how to gracefully break into a conversation. I do tend to hang back in a crowd.

This does answer why some of us disabled chase after employment, as though we are searching for The Holy Grail. Work is another place, where you can (supposedly) be with and enjoy other people. I've seen several blind people have breakdowns over having absolutely no social life and no energy to change that reality Because the act of working sapped all their energy. Many totally blind people are tolerated on the job, but somehow never break into the social scene. After awhile, usually about 20 years, you just stop pushing so hard.

I realize I am grieving spending the remainder of my life, as I have spent it up until now. Unless specifically asked to help, I'll do what I've always done. I'll go home and play "nice" in my room. It is the loneliness that is killing me. The dread of more of the same, anyway.

1Th. 5:18 "In every thing give thanks: for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus concerning you." Here is the Bible way, the right way. The way I pray I can quickly return to. I've never faced down the Loneliness Monster before. I know God will help me, now that I have some idea of where the real problem is.

No, I don't have this one resolved. How can a human being expect to really be at peace with the reality of being too screwed-up for an intimate relationship and finally realizing that I'm always going to be like a beloved pet, or football team mascot? I have trouble interacting with people. It is lots better at this church, then at any other, but people are too busy to do social activities.

I've tried the local senior center, where I meet people who are tragic (older) versions of myself. So lonely, they just are driven to talk. I only give of myself in that environment. I don't find many of my needs being met, although, since I am a good listener, I am liked. I come home from several hours there completely drained and sad.

I'm going to try volunteering at a pet shelter. They need someone to "pet and socialize" the stray kittens, puppies, dogs and cats, before they are "adopted". I am so beaten down by the constant hassle over my disabilities, I probably won't actually carry this out. I can't face more rejection, especially for a volunteer position. Eventually I will be ground down to a numb kind of acceptance. I pray a lot, because I can't face a life without company. Right now, in the midst of pain, it is hard to focus on God. I have to let my very real sadness hang around for awhile, and I'll once again become at peace with my life, as it is, and not as I foolishly believe it "should" be.

Recovery: The Mother I Never Had.

As I continue on this journey of discovery and adventure. (I've never been so healthy), I realize I can give myself a bit of what was missing from the chaotic childhood. A family experience.

No, I'll never be able to sit in dad's lap as a four-year-old, but at 53, I have realized that a friend and I have adopted one another. She is the mom I never had, and I am a second daughter for her. To think of her brings a joy to my heart. There is much history between us.

She has seen me at my worst and now, rejoices with me, as I truly latch on to mental health. She's in her 70's, British very polite and introspective. But of late, she has seen fit to share some of her wilder 'hippie' youth. She has done things worthy of and even surpassing CyberGal's exploits, my, my! I present our cherished institution: The Girlie Day.

Her husband John is a serious fly fisherman, and when he's off fishing, and Maria is alone, we schedule a Girlie Day. Before I refrained from drinking alcohol, that was also a part of our day together. But, as many of you can guess, CyberGal doesn't need booze to be amusing, or amused.

I used to give Maria a full body massage. We'd have dinner and wrap up the evening with a bit of television. She also likes scalp massages and has opted for more of those, instead of a full body massage. I suspect the relaxation is relief from her ever-present foot pain. I want more then anything for God to jolly well get off the stick and heal her, but that's for another post!

Maria is also my employer. I love our Girlie Days because I don't have the ethical battle over being in her home to clean it, while on one level she'd rather I give her "hair scritches". My sense of ethics drives me nuts. We even have a little game called: "Does that make you feel guilty?" One of the reasons we get along so well, is because Maria has learned she can really trust me. I'm not going to snoop through her home, or computer. I will really put in a full-days work, or I will not take my wages. But she is also like a little kid, when mean old CyberGal decides the house must be cleaned, meaning, I stop with the scalp massage.

She has a little whine which is plainly and simply designed to make me feel, well, guilty! It is a joke between us and has provided much mutual laughter. She acts pathetic and my role is to pretend to be heartless! What is great fun for me, is when I pull the guilt ploy. She mutters something like: "Oh, that was a good one." when I pretend to whine about needing a raise so I can take another vacation. (I always pick stuff that is obviously so outrageous, as to be laughable).

We go back over twenty years. At that time, I was a completely messed-up adult recovering from being in a religious cult in San Francisco. I was also trying to deal with learning to do life blind. I'd had almost no training for a blind person. I was tired of "faking it". I was just plain tired. One of my many attempts to straighten out my chaotic life at thirty-something.

Maria was a dorm counselor. She helped me a lot trying to recover from being in a really messed-up Christian "home" for three months. They were brutal, to say the least. When you were "bad", they'd deprive you of toilet paper and soap! Yes, when you are seriously abused, things like that don't make you leave. You stay around and "take it". Just like in your childhood. If some organization tried that one on me now, I'd leave skid marks leading to the nearest law firm.

I eventually got a part-time job at the same blind center and Maria and I began a working relationship. When she and John went to the mountains on the weekends, they wanted someone they could trust to house and dog sit for them. I've continued to work for Maria and John in good times and bad. Thankfully, in the last seven years, things are much better in my life. This time, it appears I'm truly gaining mental health.

In the last few years Maria and I have grown close. She "feels" like a mom and I believe I'm like a second daughter for her. I will take feedback from her I won't even consider listening to from anyone else. I actually sat through a gentle lecture about my, ah hum, irresponsible bent with money. Now that I am saving for something that is worth the effort (a blow-out vacation week in Boston), I am letting her bank half my earnings, so when she uses her credit card to book my plane and hotel, the money is already there to cover the bill. But, basically, save money? Are you nuts? Okay, I'll admit it, not totally grown-up in that area. Haven't even arrived at the point of asking God to help me "want to" change. Yeah, save money? You are nuts!

Today was a lovely Girlie Day. We have taken to buying deli food for ourselves at an outrageously expensive health-oriented store in Berkeley called Andronicos. Lovely food, but lunch for two, brought home in containers can run $50! She isn't into chocolate and sweets like I am, but found these Godiva chocolate ice cream bars that are like frozen chocolate moose dipped into rich dark chocolate. Oh, my Gawd, are those things GOOD! Today, I had requested garlic bread and a salad. Not Maria's favorite, but she is flexible, we swap who selects lunch. She bought two loaves of this ready to heat, made up garlic bread that is to DIE for. I have wonderful memories of leaving AA meetings with about 12 others and heading over to a local Italian eatery. We'd order loaves of their home made garlic bread and troughs of salad. Man, that was some good eating!

Maria also prepares an entire pot of Pete's Coffee for the day. I don't know if Pete's in national, but it makes expresso look like weak decaf. I've joked with Maria, that she gives me that coffee, so when I work, I have the energy and desire to re-roof their house! (I think its nicknamed: "legal speed".) I LOVE Pete's coffee. It is very strong and wonderful with half 'n half and sugar.

After lunch I begin the "head scritches". Maria has told me that it makes her body tingle and seems to lesson her foot pain. I swear, if running through Berkeley naked, until arrested would heal her, I'd be calling her from jail! I HATE it when people I love are in pain. I can really understand how otherwise normal people can be driven to crime, or just bizarre behavior watching a loved one suffer.

As soon as lunch is over, Maria moves to her special "back" chair" and reclines it, so I can be comfortable, sitting behind her, doing scalp massage. I have taken to joking with her, as I see her whip that chair back: "Are you waiting for something?" I usually get a Maria giggle. Something I try to cause, as often as possible.

Maria is on a whole lot of very strong pain killing medication. Most of the time, she falls asleep for a bit while I work on her. I busy myself in prayer while her body relaxes. She is only lightly sleeping, so when Hanna, the Newfound Hound gets jealous of not getting petted, Maria wakes up, to the insistent nosing, her back begins to receive, as I try to pet the dog with one hand, and work on Maria with the other.

It is another sweet, silly little part of the Girlie Day. Hanna, when a puppy was obviously cuddled and permitted into someone's lap. This has produced a very confused 120 pound lap-dog-wanna-be. She is tall enough to straddle your lap, with her body snuggled over your legs. Then she does the "I love you" lean. I have only seen Border Collies engage is this. It is actually a herding technique. But Hanna, is just trying to return to the heavenly days gone by, when she was small enough to fit in a lap!

Maria and John have a beautiful 24 year marriage. When he is away, he always calls her and they exchange bits of news and chit chat. There is an amazing tenderness between them. It permeates their home. Maria has known a really hard life, dealing with the garbage of WW II an unfortunate first marriage disaster and a whole lot of other sad things. I am so very happy that she has found such a fine man. John is not only in love with his wife, but likes to brag on her to me.

Maria loves my "John" stories, because, he has trouble sharing some of his feelings directly with her. John was driving me to BART - our local transit system and I was waxing eloquent about some Eggs Benedict I'd had in San Francisco. With the delight of a small child, John boasted: "Oh Maria makes that!" I could almost hear the "na-na-na-na-NA-na" within this proclamation. I get the feeling that if I spoken about whipping up a batch of cement, I'd get the same reaction: "Oh, Maria does that!" She is a wonderful gourmet cook and I envy John's position of enjoying her creations. But Maria swears she's never made Eggs Benedict!

So, I massage a little, eat and drink a little and play with the dog. The afternoon turns to evening and Maria re-combs her hair for the fifth, or sixth time, preparing to drive me to BART.

I even got to take home what was left of the second loaf of garlic bread. Oh swoon! We have shared serious memories, humorous moments and that most healing of human institutions, love.
I love getting John to talk about his wife. He really, really loves her. I love her too. She shared that hearing that she is loved by both her husband and me, made her feel good physically and emotionally. Well, Maria, enjoy, 'cause 'tis true. Lots of folks really like you and a few of us have the joy of getting to really know you. I am blessed to have you and John in my life.

Paying the Price of Poor Self-Discipline.

CyberGal has gotten buried in my church's website maintenance. My duties are not unfair, or overbearing. But, when you do nothing for a month, it takes a great deal of time and effort to catch up. Oh, I am teaching myself the lesson about self-discipline. I'm near completing the duties of the website. I want to scream, never look at it again and pretend I know nothing about it! In short, I'm weary of this task.

I am learning the joys of keeping up with my email and RSS news feeds. Done daily, these things don't stack up to that overwhelming point of fifty newsletters to read. I am current with my personal and professional news and information. I've learned to keep that inbox empty, even in the face of being tired. I am forcing myself to stop making excuses. I now will maintain the church website with the same diligence.

Due to getting so far behind, my other two projects have been put on temporary hold. I have begun the research on my writer, but have not begun the reading for the in depth articles for this blog on the Mentally Ill Care Taker. My goal for today is to get back on track with these two projects.

I am teaching myself that it IS POSSIBLE TO CHANGE. As they say at church, there is no power on earth that can defeat a made up mind. The business of taking care of one's business as an adult, and not like a raging six-year-old is not glamorous. I never fantasize about this transition. Who day dreams about repenting of immaturity and resolving to really solve the problem? We fantasize about the rewards that come AFTER the hard work (we conveniently ignore).

I am learning to "possess my own vessel". Last night at church I was corrected on a minor issue of how to address one of our church elders. I got immediately angry. I let myself relish all the little things which bug me about on-going church involvement. I was getting ready to do a serious in-church pout. Thankfully, I remembered some advice I'd heard from another member battling the temptation to "have a snit". Even though I didn't "feel" like doing it, I forced myself to fully participate in the prayer, singing and testimony activities. The "snit" gave way to my normal contentment with our church. A member has just been told she has bone cancer. I can pray for her, thanking God for her healing, as well as, her beautiful and courageous spirit under trial.

Once again, I realize, that not everything in church is centered around little old me. I truly desire to leave the world of the "fool" to join the world of the "Wise". Let me fall in love with rebuke, feedback and differing opinions. Let me embrace the dismantling of my base character, so others can see more of Jesus and less of me Let me grow up God! Funny, I prayed those thoughts at around 12:30 PM and God was beginning the process of reclamation by 7 PM. I am thankful I still want to stay in the fight.

For me, religion has given me the structure for growth I missed as a child. I have tried to embrace maturity via secular means and failed miserably. Even though Christianity has problems, I have found Jesus to be worth the effort of investigation and continued pursuit. Even though I may be tempted to pout, from time to time, I know that God's plan seems to work a whole lot better then CyberGal's plan.

I hope you all find some hope and comfort in my musings. Recovery is real and on-going, but it is effortful. May we all learn to stop resenting that part of the process.

Not All Parents Need To Be Brought To The Attention Of Child Protective Services.

When I get overwhelmed with reading about someone's recovery battles, or my own struggles, I take a break and refresh my spirit with stories of HEALTHY families. Depending on where you are in your recovery, this post may make you jealous, angry, sad, or soothed. Understand, all of those feelings must be honored. Your small person probably didn't get comfort. You, as a big person, may still be struggling to learn how to re-parent yourself.

I truly am soothed by this kind of account. I don't remember ever being glad I ran to an adult when frightened. I came away from the encounter vowing I'd never be that stupid, EVER again. Thankfully, with God's grace, I have experienced the loving arms of my pastor engulfing me as I cry. I have experienced the love and honesty of friends, standing beside me through a storm. I know how good it feels to know that "God has my back". I spend far less time being scared out of my mind.

Enjoy this post

Saturday, July 22, 2006

The Best Part of Being "Dad"
from: "MetroMan - Confessions of a Metrosexual Dad"

You know, there are probably a lot of "best" parts that I haven't mentioned, but there is one part that can only happen late at night that leaves you with a feeling of love and of responsibility that makes being dad worth being dad.

Tonight, I had one of those moments with daughter number three: Chloe. Was it a big thing? Well, to a three year old it was. She woke up suddenly, scared and calling for me. Not mom, me. Yup, good old dad. So, there, on the stairway, in the dark with the wind whipping all around the house, Chloe found comfort in daddy's arms. With blankie by her side, twiddling her "pony hair" and cuddled up next to me - Chloe found a place of safety, a place of peace. And boys and girls, that's when you know as a parent you've done a good job. When the babies are ready to run to your arms and trust you. Sure, kids always WANT to do that with their parents. They hope for it and yearn for it. The thing that's great is when YOU know that you've really provided it for them.

Thanks Chloe. It's great being your dad.
posted by MacPhilly at 10:27 PM

"I didn't ask for, or need your advice!": Hello Codependency!

Names have been changed to protect privacy.

One night, in a dream, I saw a group of people. These people were deserving, lovable people. The problem was, they didn't know it. They were stuck, confused - reacting to some crazy stuff that happened long ago.

They were running around in adult bodies, but in many ways they were still children. And they were scared.

These people were so busy protecting themselves and trying to figure out what everything meant, they didn't do what they most needed to do: relax, be who they were, and allow themselves to shine.

They didn't know it was okay to stop protecting themselves. They didn't know it was okay to love and be loved. They didn't know they could love themselves. When I awoke, I realized I was one of them."

From: BEYOND CODEPENDENCY And Getting Better All the Time by Melody Beattle, Copyright 1989 By Hazelden Foundation Page V.

I fell back to some panic-behavior I truly thought I'd gotten over in the last few years. The above introduction made no sense to me, when I bought this book two years ago. It sure makes sense now. I got good news and bad news for all of us abuse refugees. The good news is that your need to constantly talk about and process memories of the past will lesson and end. The bad news - we ain't all well yet...

You will graduate to "acting out" parts of your past, in the hope of "getting it right" this time. Oh puppy droppings! Before, you knew when your past was screwing up your present. You were crying, or raging and generally unable to function. Your friends hung with you, because it was obvious to them you were fighting really hard to recover. Oh dear ones, I just wandered into the next phase of recovery and it can push your friends to levels of frustration, confusion and irritation neither of you have shared up to this point.

HELLO CODEPENDENCY!
OH SHE-IT!

I discover a feeling of shame and sheepishness, I've not experienced for a long, long time. The following will demonstrate why CyberGal is not seeking an intimate relationship. The closer a survivor feels to another person, the more "old stuff" leaks out.

Just one short example. Back when I was sleeping around I was involved with this guy and we'd had wonderful sexual encounters. At some point, I felt it was safe to deal with some of my still unexpressed pain. So, in that moment after we've exhausted ourselves, I suddenly got very hysterical and blurted out: "Do you think my mother's in hell?" My lover, not the most compassionate being on the planet, found himself attempting to comfort a very hysterical CyberGal. Being I was #15 for this clown in 5 months, I was dispatched with post haste!

I hate how stuff done to me as a child seems to still keep re-appearing to mess up my "today"! I did not have any emotional damage of any consequence from casual friends. The damage was from those close to me. If you do something which makes me feel close to you. You may get to experience what a cherished friend of mine was dragged through last week.

Please note, when it comes to the alternative health movement, I'm completely irrational, unreasonable and pretty much unteachable. I LOATHE it. I was raised by narcissistic caretakers and have no clue as to where "I" end and "you" begin. "I" is you and "you" is me. (I know that is really wrong, but when upset, that is the map I return to, as it is the only one I had as a child.)

A scary example of this kind of process. I was speaking to my male psychologist and seriously shared the following:

"Well, you know how it is when you have to change a tampon." oops, if he'd agreed, I would have had another problem! When I'm not panicked, I can usually catch this erroneous thinking and try and construct who "you" is, vs who "I" is.

Phillip, has been a consistent, fair and loyal friend for over a year. As friendships go, we have shared increasing levels of 'risky' information, dreams and faults with one another and discovered safety and comfort. When the insistent gay guy, Mr. Pink Flamingo, exited my life, it really rocked my world. I will be doing an in depth walk-through on why his exiting my life was so difficult, when I deal with The Mentally Ill Caretaker.

It was a good thing that Phillip's preferred method of communication is instant messaging and not by voice. I had posted my blog about Mr. Pink Flamingo leaving my life. Phillip shared several observations about the situation. Short version: "You were wrong, but he was more wrong then you were". I began to cry upon reading that. I can literally count on one hand the number of times someone has stood beside me and not kicked me, when I was already down.

I didn't realize it, but Phillip took up residence in the most sacred part of my heart. That place where Maria and my mother reside. The place of my deepest love and loyalty. In short, Phillip has moved into that territory of someone I do not ever want to lose as a friend. (In retrospect: oh, you poor bastard!) In spite of all the pain my mother caused me, she was also in that sacred place. I knew she was really sick. I begged her to go to the doctor, at the tender age of six, and several months later, she was dead. If I really love you, I will try to "save" you. This is plainly and simply re-living and re-working the pattern of my mother's death, with the "correct" outcome (this time). There is nothing rational about this process. Phillip, thank you for not walking away. For sure, you are no fair weather friend.

Phillip had emailed me with the happy news that he was getting back into his normal health mode and was using a new diet. He has good reasons for being serious about his health, just as I have good reasons for faithfully taking my psychiatric medication. But, as I said, due to my particular run-ins with the alternative health movement, I go right to "contempt". He sent me seven audio segments to listen to. (oh sigh).

I managed not to laugh until I hit the middle of the second clip. This is another body detoxification diet: whole foods, no sugar, caffeine, nicotine, alcohol or gluten. Okay, that I can go with. I'd have to resume drinking to do it, but, what the hey! Then the guy left the planet. Here's the theory and my slap-stick reaction.

When you eat something, the food, or molecules, or whatever "talks" to your genes and your DNA. The food commands the "fat genes" to turn "on", or "off". So, since this MD never intended to "discover" a new diet, he bumbled his way into this "revolutionary" new theory. (oh, expletive deleted!)

My imagined conversation with my HMO's Psychiatric nurse:

HMO: "Psych. What's your medical number please?"
CyberGal: "012-345".
HMO: "How can I help you?"
CyberGal: "Well, I've started talking to my DNA and my genes. I can tell them to turn off my fat storing chemistry"
HMO: (Slight pause before almost yelling): "...Get in here. Get in here NOW!"

I know I'm being really unfair, irrational and immature. So, how to speak of my thoughts without raining all over Phillip's health food parade? I admire Phillip's gift for politeness, and tact. When he can't be supportive, he usually says nothing, or suggests a different, new idea. I opted for saying as little as possible about his now talkative genes. (Oh, Pa-lee-se!)

He then posted about getting a rash. (Here's where I just completely lost it). Now, apparently, for Phillip, rashes aren't serious matters. For me, a rash is a VERY serious experience. So, forgetting that "I" ain't him, and "he" ain't me, I leapt to the conclusion that his damn new diet was killing him!

When I get sick, I do the cold, fever and lung thing. I don't even start to pay attention to it until after eight continuous days with a fever, or the gunk turns green. I know my way around bronchitis. This is how Phillip is with a rash. But CyberGal's experience with a rash was serious and very scary. At the age of 25, I got a bad case of measles. It is no lie, that in an adult, that little sucker can kill you. It was BAD.

So, I swung into action I'd normally not engage in. I left a screaming-meme message on his business line which very clearly could be summed up as: "Okay, now I've let you play long enough with this health food crap, but now you are in trouble. STOP BEING A JERK AND GO TO A DOCTOR!" I am not subtle under the best of circumstances, and when trying to save my friends life (which, by-the-way, was NEVER in danger), I'm like a run-away-train.

This is also an example of being broad-sided by demonic attack. I had prayed and studied the Word, before I began this day, but I forgot to ask God to keep me from sharing my puppy droppings with friends. All a demon had to do was give a little tug on my "Now that you love him, he's going to die...AND IT'LL BE YOUR FAULT!", yarn and the entire sweater came apart.

What irked my friend was my erroneous assumptions. He was wrapping up a business trip and I'm sure this episode was something he could have done without. He posted a response to my call, but I didn't read it, as I was too busy frantically trolling the net, getting my information together for my next attempt to get his attention. A bulleted-list email.

Phillip answered my objections on his blog, in a general, gentle manner. Keeping his focus on who he is and making it quite clear, that maybe I was missing something. But I didn't read this creation until after sending my email masterpiece.

I am what is known as a generalist. I know a little bit about a large range of topics and am good at putting things together from very little information. Phillip referenced being a hygiene freak, as a joke. I came along and decided to list all the symptoms of an Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. (A fine example of: "hello, this is the pot, calling the kettle black). I ran down every possible thing I could think of that might conceivably be wrong with Phillip. I reduced this poor man to: "STOP! STOP! STOP!" He alerted me to the accurate observation that, he had no idea where I'd gone, but it was based in fear. He suggested that the next time I freaked out about him, to keep my peace of mind and speak to my pastor.

I know how to act as though I can take rebuke, so I shot off a quick response saying that his observations were noted. I was completely scared to speak to him at all. I totally believe in the proverb which says that even a fool who keeps his mouth shut is accounted wise. I then was angry. How DARE he bring my pastor into this? Wisely, I prayed for him and didn't communicate.

It took me almost three days of a lot of extra sleep to return to some semblance of normalcy. Philllip was not trying to hurt me, or be sarcastic. He truly saw my hysterical attitude and referred me to a local source who could (hopefully) calm me down. Then I realized, I'd tried to "save" my mother from dying, yet again. I was finally able to cry over the real issue and felt myself righting emotionally. But, now, how in the hell to deal with Phillip?

Re-written lyrics to "Welcome To My World"

Welcome to my world
Won't you come on in.
Insanity, I guess still happens, now and then...

I had this sheepish, confused feeling, like I'd blown it, but still couldn't really put it into words. And I wanted to make sure that I wasn't still off in naw-naw land before communicating with Phillip at all! I just kept praying for him. I figured, he could see I was on line. So, I waited.

Phillip text-messaged me, and I began attempting to apologize. I still feel really awkward inside. I may need to be returning to a very difficult psych group at my HMO which works on codependency issues. I sincerely pray I don't drag anyone through such an absurd adventure, again.

Take "The Forty Day Challenge: from "Healing Is A Choice".

My special thanks to Steve Arterburn, of New Life Ministries, for permission to republish this material.

I am going to post an entire email I got from New Life Ministries. They apply Christian principles to problems of healing and wholeness. For those of you who aren't religious, you might try doing this challenge anyway. I'm on day three, and it really seems to make a difference, as it gives me something new and simple to think about.

--------------------- Email from New Life Ministries to Cybergal---------

This Week's Resource


Changes That Heal
Dr. Henry Cloud

This book focuses on four developmental tasks--bonding to others, separating from others, integrating good and bad in our lives, and taking charge of our lives--that all of us must accomplish to heal our inner pain and to enable us to function and grow emotionally and spiritually.

This Week's Tip for Life

40 Days of Healing Daily Affirmations
Excerpted from "Healing Is A Choice" by Steve Arterburn

If you accept this challenge, I believe it will change your life forever. I believe it will implant in your heart and soul the words you need to persevere on the path to healing. I believe it can change the way you think about yourself and the way you think about life. It will take less than five minutes a day, but it could change the rest of your day. Throughout Scripture forty days pops up over and over again. It is significant to me that Jesus fasted and prayed for forty days and forty nights. So I am going to ask you to start your day, each day, for forty days by reading the following words out loud in some quiet corner of your world:

Opening Prayer:
Lord, I am broken and hurting due to the brokenness of others and mistakes of my own. Please use Your powers to heal me and give me courage to make the choices I need to make to allow Your healing in my life. Forgive me for standing in Your way of healing for me. Thank You for allowing my past to end one second ago, and my future to begin right now in this moment with you.


Affirmation:

1. * Today I choose to heal.
2. * My healing begins right now, in this moment.
3. * I am no longer bound by my sick past.
4. * There is healing in my future.
5. * For the next twenty-four hours, I choose to live free and heal.
6. * I choose to let go of past hurts that I cannot undo.
7. * I choose to forgive myself for wrong choices in the past.
8. * Today I will dwell on what is good and right, not on the darkness I have experienced or the darkness others invite me to live.
9. * Today I will live beyond myself and live for God.
10. * On this day I will choose to feel my life rather than live in denial.
11. * I will not medicate away my pain, sorrow, or anxiety.
12. * I will allow each negative feeling to lead me to greater depths of healing.
13. * I will not drown out or ignore my negative emotions.
14. * I will work through these feelings and move out of them.
15. * I will not project them onto those around me.
16. * When I am unaware of what choice to make next, I will choose to do the next right thing.
17. * Today I will not hide or run away.
18. * I will connect with those who love me and with those who need my love.
19. * Throughout this day I will stay connected to God and ask Him to guide me and lead me.
20. * Today will be an adventure for me.
21. * I will take a risk and enjoy the unpredictable.
22. * I will not be governed by my fears.
23. * I will choose to do something uncomfortable that might lead me to know the truth about myself or live life to the fullest.
24. * I will not lie to myself today.
25. * I will seek the truth and will ask for help when I need it.
26. * Today I will reestablish some boundaries that will protect me from unhealthy people and unhealthy situations.
27. * I will tear down some walls that are keeping some wonderful people from knowing me and loving me.
28. * If there is some ungrieved loss, I will grieve it as much as I can today, and then put it away.
29. * Today I will choose reality and embrace it.
30. * I will accept my life and pick up my life right where it is.
31. * I refuse to wallow in self-pity.
32. * I will not focus on what I do not have or what might have been.
33. * On this day I will not give up.
34. * No matter how difficult the struggle, I choose to persevere.
35. * I will not let any excuse be strong enough to derail my path to healing.
36. * I will never give up or give in to an old life that did not serve me well.
37. * I will allow no one to discourage me.
38. * Today I will heal and rely on God to deliver me through the choices I make.
39. * Today I will allow God to control my life, and each choice I make, I will make with God in mind and love in my heart.
40. * On this day, I choose healing.
41. * I will do what I can do to heal and accept the limitations God has placed before me.
42. * I will see every limitation I encounter as an invitation by God to do for me what I cannot do for myself.
43. * I will accept that healing is sometimes slow and delayed and will grow in character in the meantime.
44. * Today I will step outside of myself and serve others.
45. * I will find a need and fill it.
46. * I will find the hurt of another and help heal it.
47. * I will not become self-absorbed or filled with self-obsession.
48. * I will reach out to someone in need and do what I can to meet that need.
49. * Today I will ask for GodÂ’s help to live out His purpose.
50. * Today I will live for God and not myself.
51. * Today I choose to live.
52. * Today I choose to love.
53. * Today I choose to heal.

If you take my forty-day challenge, I would like to hear from you. I would like to hear about your life before you took the challenge, while you were doing it, and afterward. Did it lead you to make healing choices? Let me know with an e-mail to Sarterburn@newlife.com. I may not know you personally, but this will give me a glimpse of your life. Please know that I am loving you and praying for God to bless you with new levels of healing for you and for your relationships.Campaign for Integrity

Every Soldiers Battle
Calendar
July 14 - Every Man's Battle Workshop
July 21 - Lose it for Life Workshop
July 21 - Every Heart Restored Workshop
July 21 - Healing is a Choice Workshop
August 4 - Every Man's Battle Workshop
August 11 - Every Heart Restored Workshop
September 8 - Every Heart Restored Workshop
September 14 - Singles - The Power of One Seminar
September 15 - Every Man's Battle Workshop

For more information or to register for any of these workshops:
Call 1-800-NEW-LIFE
More From New Life Ministries
Listen to NEW LIFE LIVE! at 10am to 11am PST (Mon - Fri) as Steve Arterburn addresses issues concerning your spiritual and mental health.
http://www.Oneplace.com/Ministries/new_life_live

Every Soldier's Battle is a campaign of New Life Ministries to provide military personnel (soldiers), both home and abroad, with resources that will help those soldiers who choose to maintain sexual integrity and sexual purity.
http://www.EverySoldiersBattle.com

New Life is pleased to offer the Every Home Protected internet software filter.
http://www.EveryHomeProtected.com

Support New Life


New Life Ministries depends on the support of you, our listeners. Please consider a financial donation.
https://secure.newlife.com/cnl/donation.asp.

Or, perhaps you're in crisis and need to find a Christian counselor in your area. Call us, toll-free 24 hours a day, 7 days a week at 1-800-NEW-LIFE (639-5433)