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Thanksgiving; Time with Family. No Thanks

copyright © 2009 Betsy L. Angert.  BeThink.org As Americans ponder the Thanksgiving Day holiday expectations are high. Young children look forward to all the activities loved ones plan. School age individuals are told tales of the Pilgrims and the Indians that befriended early settlers.  Most imagine that on this November day, people come together peaceably.  That, for the little ones is a welcome thought.  Too often, tension exists in the parent child relationship.  Some say angst increases as the offspring age.  Whilst many wish to believe the strain occurs over time, as a child becomes more autonomous, indeed, recent research shows early interactions give rise to the relationship that will be. Toddlers and tots rarely have opportunities to quietly, calmly, and genuinely converse with parents or the caregivers they are fond of.   Hence, lads and lasses feel a sense of loss.  By the teen years, the thought of another Thanksgiving celebration with relatives evokes an almost automatic response, "No thanks."

I Resolve . . .

Something Could Change

copyright © 2008 Betsy L. Angert.  BeThink.org Come 2009, I will commence on a new path. I will exercise regularly, smoke not at all.  A healthy diet will become my regime.  On Monday, January 5, my life mission will be realized in my work.  The opportunity to inaugurate again, to give birth to me at my best will inspire a rejuvenation.  Today, I resolve to . . . not make a single New Years resolution.  In truth, I never have committed to change.  Yet, the person you see before you is not the same being that might have appeared on any other day, of any other year.  I have evolved, and so do we all.

What Pulls Us Apart

Defending Islam at a McCain rally

copyright © 2008 Betsy L. Angert. BeThink.org

It was a cool Fall evening in South Florida. The breeze was gentle; the sunset glorious. As I approached the intersection where, each weekend I stand in support of peace and tranquility, I did as I do when at this crossroad. I placed my arm out the window. My digits were extended and formed the symbol associated with serenity. When I am in a vehicle, at the locale commonly considered the Peace Corner I work to preserve the intent of my Saturday mission. I strive to advance awareness for the notion, this nation remains at war. Soldiers are slaughtered far from the shores of home sweet home. Civilians, in their native country continue to lose their lives for a want of war. I crave global harmony and will work to restore some sense of civility worldwide. However, as I sat silently in contemplation cries of "Country First" startled me.

The Lesson; All Beings Are a Beautiful Bundle of Love

copyright © 2008 Betsy L. Angert. BeThink.org

The day was delightful. The water was superb. The sun was full and bright. A few billowy, puffy clouds floated through the sky. They were white, cumulus, fluffy fellows, the type that excite many a child as they gaze into the heavens. In parks, on lawns, little ones were likely looking up and pointing. "Look," they might say, "It is a horse, a donkey, or perchance a unicorn." It was a day for whimsy. The children, playful in the pool, barely noticed the graceful shapes as they danced above their heads. Instead, they were focused on what they decided were June bugs.

Three young sweet girls stood in the warm water near their Daddy. All were calm, content, and serene. The sisters chatted easily. Father smiled. The youngest lass expressed her curiosity. As her sibling searched for bugs on the plastic rope line, the "baby" in the family asked of the insects. "Are they icky to touch," the cautious curly haired youngster inquired. The more confident elder sister said, "No! They are cute," she said. See." The "older" child showed the girl of fewer years.

A stranger, in the adjacent lane was preparing to swim. Becky was her name. She was much older than the children, and perhaps no wiser; nonetheless, she share her assessment of the beetle. Becky said of the six-legged lovelies, "They are life; all creatures are beautiful." With that thought, the father beamed, and the older lady plunged head first into the water filled cement reservoir.

Restricted Sorrow and Sainthood

copyright © 2008 Betsy L. Angert. BeThink.org

I stroked the chair, caressed the spirit. I cried. She was gone; yet here. Not forgotten; forever her presence would be with me. Then within a wink of an eye, seven days passed. Luke Russert appeared before me. He stood; head bowed, and touched another chair. This overstuffed piece of furniture once held the frame of his dearly departed father. While some thought the moment sweet, many expressed exasperation. They tired of the coverage. Timothy James Russert was dead. We need not canonize him. A few were critical. They wondered did cable television have nothing better to cover. A "fellow" Journalist commented, "Will somebody please e-mail me when the eulogies for Tim Russert are over?" Perhaps, tributes only end when we, the mourners pass. Possibly, memorials are personal, as are the parameters on grief.

Fight The Smears; Silence is Not Golden

copyright © 2008 Betsy L. Angert. BeThink.org

Today, change has come. Contrary to the reality that has filled centuries of history, a Presidential candidate has chosen to Fight the Smears. Barack Obama, a man whose first name is defined as my own, "blessed," has opened a door. He has unlocked a window. Thankfully, the propitious aspirant has risen above supposed ceilings. Presidential hopeful Obama has endorsed a principle that I discovered as a child. Secrets are the source of sorrow.

Barack Obama's campaign revealed a Web site this morning entitled "Fight the Smears" -- aimed at, . . . beating back misinformation, half truths or downright lies being spread about the Democratic nominee via television, the Web, radio and, most pervasively, e-mail.

"The Obama campaign isn't going to let dishonest smears spread across the Internet unanswered," explained campaign spokesman Tommy Vietor.

Intentional slander causes great pain. Individuals who malign advance untold misery. Only the truth can set any of us free. However, few wish to speak of what they know. Most repeat the proverb, "Ignorance is bliss." Yet, in life, we may realize, when we are quiet, gospel is often fleeting.

Calm Communicators Unite Us. Cruel Commanders Divide Us

copyright © 2008 Betsy L. Angert. BeThink.org

Americans are at odds. As a nation, we are splintered. The parts do not function as a whole. Some wish to control and command. Others prefer to work for the common good. As we stand, we are a country divided.

Fragrances and Food; The Way to a Heart is Through the Stomach and Nose

copyright © 2008 Betsy L. Angert. BeThink.org

We met in December. The year was 2007. He was a friend of my cousin's. The two were best of buds; they still are. Cousin Paul has known James for decades. Jim moved to my hometown only months earlier. He felt alone. James longed for a friend, locally. Paul introduced us on the Internet. After my relative played the mediator, the man in the middle, the means for a message, he asked if he might share our electronic mail addresses. James and I each consented, and from then on, we exchanged epistles directly.

In letters, we liked each other. Admittedly, for us, the electronic medium was limited. We decided to share a drink together; although I let him know, I only imbibe water. James said that was not a problem. We arranged to get together at Starbucks. The coffee shop was near to his home and mine. Neither of us wished to share where we lived exactly. We were hesitant, cautious, or just not willing to chance the unknown.

New Eyes Bestow Meaning; Making a Difference

Inspiration

copyright © 2007 Betsy L. Angert. BeThink.org

As children, many of us decide we wish to help others. When asked what we want to be when we grow up, we typically respond, I will be a Teacher, maybe a Doctor, or a Nurse. I wish to serve society as a Social Worker, a Fireman, or a Law Officer. As a Librarian, I can truly help people grow intellectually. What they read will advance emotional enlightenment. Even food servers and those who prepare the fare, experience pleasure when he or she interacts with the connoisseur of sustenance and spirits. The builder provides shelter from the storms. We each wish to make a difference.

The Only Barrier to Communication; My Emotions and Me

copyright © 2007 Betsy L. Angert

We each experience many obstructions everyday of our lives. There are physical fences we cannot or will not climb. A roadblock might impede our progress on the thoroughfare. Distance does us in. Many do not wish to venture beyond familiar neighborhoods. Proximity can limit our travel. Time is an interesting concept. Although, man created seconds, minutes, hours, and days, few of us seem able to separate ourselves from this obstacle.

As difficult as it might be to ford the river or sea, nothing compares with the challenge we feel when we know there is a need discuss subjects that cause us to feel defensive. Delicate topics are taboo too. Conversations of all sorts are difficult. Personal or professional, what we say aloud and what we do not can cause palms to sweat, hands to clam, pulses to race, and a person to pace. The heart is easily torn to pieces. The head hurts at the thought of what might be a threat. Communication can cleave, or calm; it can be the greatest bridge or the barrier that destroys a connection.