Wish on White Horses

Thank you. By reading my blog you give me the opportunity to do the work I love, that is talk about life and its various aspects. I know, wandering around is one of the things I do best, so I thank you for respecting my voice while I do it. Why wish on white horses? They give us hope. I’m a seeker, and I figure that you, being here, must be one too. They say we didn’t come into this life with a manual on how to live it, but what if in our wanderings, we find one.

Tuesday, January 19, 2021

Tuesday--From the Top of the Mountain

Last night, on the eve of Martin Luther King Jr. Day, as I searched the internet for his “I Have a Dream Speech, “I got distracted.

I watched and listened to John F. Kennedy’s inaugural address and Barack Obama’s farewell speech as he handed over the reins of power.

I heard men with the power of words move a nation to do more than they thought possible. I heard men who dreamed a dream bigger than themselves say that we are all Americans and that Unity and togetherness have made us strong.

I heard a man inspire people to do the impossible—send a man to the moon and safely bring him back by the end of the decade. (“Not because it is easy,” he said, “but because it is hard.”) These men had leadership qualities and the power of oratory to bring about change and advancement. And to make our hearts sing.

They made us proud.

Kennedy’s kids went out into the world via the Peace Corps to work alongside farmers in third-world countries to help them find a better way.

I saw President Dwight D. Eisenhower, a military man who had implemented the military’s desegregation that Truman had signed, a Republican, welcome a young Democrat into the White House with an open hand and a smile.

And then I heard the man who had a dream say that we hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal. That was 58 years ago, in 1962, that Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. gave his “I Have a Dream” speech.

He said it wasn’t a time for black people to blow off steam and return to usual, but to continue until we all sing together from the Black Spiritual,

“From every mountain top, let freedom ring.”

Friday, January 15, 2021

A Glorious Celebration

I bumped into this picture yesterday and wondered what the heck?

And then I found out what it was…

It’s Holi, a Hindu Festival that celebrates the triumph of good over evil.

Far out!

It also marks the end of winter and the coming of spring. beginning on the last day of the full moon in March, and lasts for a day and a night. (28 to 29th) Night bonfires remind me of Burning Man.

It’s a time of unity, a time of play, laughter, music and dance, a time to repair broken relationships.

Imagine.

As a youth, Lord Krishna, a reincarnation of Lord Vishnu, liked to play pranks on the village girls by drenching them in water and colors.

Here is a chance to throw colored powders, to pelt each other with water balloons, and to squirt with water pistols.

It is a time to forgive and forget, a to drink bhang, a drink made with cannabis. It is a time the gods turn a blind eye.

After sobering up, people dress up and visit friends and family.

Live Joyously!

Sunday, January 10, 2021

Are You a Writer, Reader, or Both?

I’ve heard that there are only three rules for writing.

Unfortunately, nobody knows what they are.

So, there you have it, folks. If you want to be a writer, make your own rules. If you want to write, write your little heart out.

Or write and read. Stephen King says if you don’t have time to read, you don’t have time to write.

I know people are attuned to a story, with a beginning, a middle, and an end. That doesn’t happen so much with blogs, but it ought to. Follow the Hero’s Journey, and it will stand you in good stead.

I think the concept of the hero’s journey began long ago when a storyteller stood at the campfire with the people eager for entertainment.

The hunter who brought home the bacon would get attention, but the one who embellished the story got more.

The one who died on the hunt was popular, too, for he met a consequence that didn’t bring home the bacon. The trouble was, someone else had to tell the story for him. That’s where you need a great obituary writer. Gosh, when I think about it, most obituaries I’ve heard were boring. Now, that doesn’t do the person justice. They’ve had a life. They loved, wept, had children, hardships, victories. (Born somewhere, educated somewhere, married, survived by.) I’m feeling sad for them.

People want to hear how the hero/heroine got kicked out of Paradise and had to find herself in the world. He/she had to endure hardships, and the stakes were high, the consequences extreme. He/she would, hopefully, come home victorious and bring honor to the tribe.

Let’s hope this happens now.

The following is a copy of my Newsletter, Jewell’s Happy Trails.

I intended that this Newsletter be only for people that request it, for I don’t want to junk up people’s email boxes without invitation. I placed it here to let you know it exists.