Introspection

All posts in the Introspection category

UNMENTIONABLE

Published May 1, 2024 by Nan Mykel

HAVE YOU WONDERED ABOUT THE BOOK MARKET RECENTLY?

I’m not privy to the entire story, only my part.  There must be several different things going on. I can talk about what I know.  Bookstores are happy to publish news stories on self-published books because it’s good for their business;  because the local library refuses to add them to their collecttion.

I can empathize with the flood of local authors’  donations (much of it admitted crap) and their (our) expectations for sharing with the public via our local library.  When I donated my book Fallout, A Survivor talks to Incest Offenders  to a library staff member she said thank you and I discovered it went directly into our Saturday Library Sale.  Thinking that I had not made myself clear, I submitted another copy for the library stacks to another library staff member.  I never checked into it further, believing it had been made available in the stacks.

Later I discovered that Picking Fleas,  Writers Grooming Writers, a 299-page book by the library’s writing group in 2002 and whose proceeds went to Friends of the Library itself,  was not available in the stacks.  When I asked, first it was that books without flat bindings carrying title and author info could not easily be displayed.   Over the years (since at least 20 years ago), self-published books are assumed to be inferior.

I think I understand the problem. Local “authors” of self-published books include some doozies that would diminish respect for the library’s holdings.  So a broad spectrum of the public might be alienated, while a much smaller untamed slice of self-published authors might be gratified.  Drawing up guidelines for what’s acceptable  would be setting such a big fracas in the face of the world’s other causes so as not to be worth it.

So why did I happen to blab about it here?  Because I’m a stickler for hidden truth, I guess.

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SPOUSE RAPE

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UNITED METHODIST CHURCH REVERSES BAN ON GAY CLERGY

In a meeting on Wednesday, church leaders also voted to allow L.G.B.T.Q. weddings. __n.y.times

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Quote for the Day:

As Robert Morgenthau, a former Manhattan district attorney, liked to say, “You cannot prosecute crime in the streets

without prosecuting crime in the suites.”

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REFLECTIONS

Inside, nestled into a corner of the brain, lies a chapel tucked away just in case we need it.  Tear ducts have been installed for weeping.  We have fingers for painting and sometimes pointing.  When ecstasy or glee overtakes us, we are provided outlets for dancing or singing.  On those long dark days of need, there is our inner chapel,  the God gene.  “You wish!”

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SERENDIPITY AND SYNCHRONICITY

Since I was alerted to something by Word Press (Maybe my pages were all going Private),  I read through to see what we would be missing, and was reminded of my first recorded:

  My daughter Lili was curious about the IChing so I threw one for her.  Of all the possibilities of syllable pairing, it came up with LiLi,  so I threw one again and it, too, came up with LiLi….

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WHY? A self analysis

Published September 28, 2022 by Nan Mykel

 

 

I read all of The Brain That Changes Itself: Stories of Personal Triumph from the Stories of Personal Triumph From the Frontiers of Brain Science by Norman Doidge earlier, and I have a hypothesis about my own recent brain dysfunction:

My dysfunction is age related and involves current–and I mean current things.  It appears I’ve almost totally lost any understanding of how to work cell phones and adapt to apple and Word Press updates and can’t find things,  but appear to still have access to many of the things I learned in life, including my education and curiosity.  I do remember my mother finding it impossible to work her tv, but then she was on her way to Alzheimer’s.  At 87 I figure I’ve avoided Alzheimers, but surprise myself at my unequal limitations.

Yes, I guess I’ve always known that the brain tends to recede to earlier memories, but this seems extreme.  This is what I’m wondering:  (I do still claim ownership` of an  unconscious)…

MAYBE my unconscious (let’s call her Ethel) refuses to let go of my “what if”  tendencies out of loyalty to myself, and since they are more valued by “the real me,”  I’ve traded cognitive space with everyday low-level functioning.  Sounds like an excuse for brain slippage, doesn’t it?  But it’s a real question, a real puzzler and a possible answer.

I’m still not willing to relinquish the real me for how to work a cell phone.  Or maybe I’m just whistling in the wind….or the dark….

 

 

I USED TO CARE guest poem

Published August 15, 2022 by Nan Mykel

I used to care
When I was young
Innocent, perhaps naïve.
There was a future
To be secured and enriched
For my family
For the world.
I voted, confident it counted,
Marched, protested, and was seen,
Wrote letters, and believed they were read,
Debated, and was heard.
I witnessed change
With civil rights
Clean water and air
The end of an ugly war
Even a ban on assault rifles.

Now?
More extinctions
Extensive clearing of rainforests

More guns
More fossil fuels being burned
More voter suppression
Government dysfunction
Expansive partisan division and violence
More corporate greed
Widening gap between rich and poor
More rights stripped away.
I used to care
When I was young,
Innocent, perhaps naïve.
Now…only tears.

Thank you Thomas Shostak for permossion to share this poem

Trying out her wings-Reblog

Published April 27, 2018 by Nan Mykel

Wanted to share this experience.

TheFeatheredSleep's avatarTheFeatheredSleep

Pain killers did not play a part in my death

You

Featured, light fizuring definition, as star

You captured my appetite in a jar

Left it to pickle sour

We dissected my heart and ate slivers

Outside, like a fevered tongue

Merrymakers ran and dragged

Confetti and plastic cups of eels

Young girls with birthing stretch marks, shaking double chins

If they had three lifetimes it would still not be enough

To celebrate their unfolding life of cards

Queen of Hearts, she sat watching oragami crowds

Easier to be cloud cover, sensing rain in the air

The quiet of needing to say nothing, emptied of small talk

She didn’t need to ever attend a party again

That was another version of her out there in time

Straining to be a light bulb

Her long dangling line

Fishing for fragments of who she had been

How did a wizz, bang, bang…

View original post 124 more words

As I was waking up this morning…

Published April 26, 2018 by Nan Mykel

As I woke up this morning in my usual hypnopompic  fantasy state I was thinking about the evils of capitalism–corporations personified by the Supreme Court,  taking away tips from waiters, taking away overtime from workers,  taking lives away from immigrants, planned obsolescence…

HEY!  That’s what God did!  Planned Obsolescence!!!   (That’s my funny)….

BUT also there’s this item, of several from the news:

Layoffs set to begin next month at Carrier plant Trump struck deal with …thehill.com/…/339036-layoffs-set-to-begin-next-month-at-carrier-plant-trump-struck-… Jun 22, 2017 – The Carrier plant in Indianapolis that President Trump convinced to stay open late last year will lay off more than 600 employees beginning next month … In addition, the $16 million that the company promised to invest in the facility as part of Trump’s deal will go toward automation in the factory, which would …

Kinda Preachy?

Published April 3, 2018 by Nan Mykel

While continuing my discard trip through ages of hoarding the written word, I’m about to discard the following, but cheating and saving it here:

The majority of people are born with one head, two arms and two legs. They have two eyes, two ears, one nose and mouth.  But there across-the-board similarities appear to stop. (Of course they stopped with the first sentence in some who have had to struggle from birth with physical differences).

Inside, however, great differences can and do exist. Our nighttime dreams are unique to us, as are our combination of innate temperaments, our perceptions, intellectual potential, educational and family environments, and our genes. (Scientists have even identified a gene for “happiness.”)

It is natural to assume that most of us are as alike inside as outside. We begin to feel different soon after exposure to other children, however.  Temperamental differences are one example. With age, some children learn to hide their unique differences; differences which appear unique to themselves; differences which are viewed negatively by others.

Become aware of your feelings as you read the following: cross-eyed, epileptic, club-footed, hare-lipped, retarded, crippled, senile, pock-marked, abused, victim, bow-legged, leper, old nag, brain-damaged, psychotic, neurotic… I wonder if the feelings differ if you’re inside one of these categories or outside.  Probably not, because we soak up society’s perception of us. You think, therefore I am.

Eric Berne developed the concept of life scripting, in which people assume the scripts and characteristics that others expect from them, early in life. Some people start out physically and mentally healthy, but along the way are shamed into dis-ease.*

When we feel diminished, we are diminished. When we feel shame, we are shamed. The carpet of our life rolls out until the ragged end unless we can somehow intercept its path.

*Of course, our parents play a big role in this

 

 

Wanting a God of my own understanding – A re-blog by Broken…yet Cherished

Published September 27, 2017 by Nan Mykel

I hear your honest struggle.  A re-blog.

BrokenYetCherished's avatarBroken.....Yet Cherished

“The woman quietly watches the poodle family, and in her smile all memories are collected, the present and the past, all tenderness, all sorrow and longing. Her smile is without guile or deception, for it does not deny her bitterness and anger at a world without mercy. At a world in which we are executioners to ourselves as well as to others, and our own and others’ salvation as well. She has come home.” Burned Child Seeks the Fire by Cordelia Edvardson

I don’t know where I am in life. I am still in the present AND in the past and the two have not merged in a graceful space. There is no moment where I have accepted the past while looking forward to the future being grateful for the present. I don’t know what I think about God except that I don’t understand Him. I don’t understand what He…

View original post 226 more words

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