My journalism professor
used to talk to us about the
milk of human kindness, and we
knew what he meant:
I wrote a joke once, to the effect that I’ve been talking through this loudspeaker I found in my crib 82 years ago and just now notice it’s not plugged in! Except it wasn’t and isn’t a joke. What’s missing is the connection. I think I became a psychotherapist to have somebody to talk to.
Here I sit alone at my computer which says it’s 7:09 p.m. Sunday October 15, 2017, eating chocolate ice cream. Is all right with the world? Is that a line from a poem? Some things are called rhetorical but I must be misspelling it because i can’t find it in the dictionary. When I dip into the meanings of retort I find cold comfort: to hurl back, to retaliate, to hurl the first speaker’s words back at him. Oh, there it is…rhetorical question: a question asked merely for effect with no answer expected. Well, that’s kind of a waste of time, isn’t it?
NOW I remember how I got off on this topic! Earlier tonight I read the blog post Forming Attachments and Bonds, by
So beautifully expressed and wise…I’m reblogging
So here’s what’s been rolling around in this very addled head of mine…My neighbor Gary is an avid gardener. So much so, that we have never spoken about anything else. He came to the door a few weeks back to tell me that our grass was being over-watered and that I should adjust the scheduling of the sprinkler system. Ok, done. The other day he flagged down my car to advise me that my grass wasn’t getting enough water (I’m abbreviating the conversation to keep this thing going).
Everything needs water – but not too much. Every meal should be savored – but not so much that you get heartburn. My cyber pal David (davidkanigan.com), is pondering the extremes of emotional bungee jumping, as I extol the state of balance. But highs are awesome – it’s the lows that suck. It’s all a paradox (sidebar – Annie LaMott’s Ted…
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To My Best Friend on the Right
We met over 40 years ago when I was still in my teens.
You are my oldest friend and the friend I love most.
You invited me into your family.
You ushered me into adulthood.
You cared for me when I was at my worst; when doctors dismissed
me as malingering; you knew my pain was real.
Over the years we grew and changed but we never lost each other
and I never lost my love for our friendship.
When I tested that friendship with my addiction you went silent
but you didn’t go away.
You forgave me when I was ready to admit that I was ashamed, and
wrong and sorry.
I didn’t lose you but over the years we changed and spoke less often and
slowly drifted apart until we met again on Facebook.
And now I am baffled.
How do I reconcile the friend who …. ( visit site for more )
Rob Goldstein 2016
Share the Love:
Robert Matthew Goldstein.com
Rob’s post really grabbed me, as others of his do. Check his blog out…
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