• Silent Witness Silent no more/

    Never start a speech with an apology, so as a first time blogger, let me get that faux pau immediately out of the way: I’m learning again I don’t know what I’m doing.

    It’s taken me almost eighty years to once again jump into a project without the necessary time and effort it takes to do the research, and do it right. I don’t have another eighty years to find the right time, so I’ve had to realize that this is the time, write or wrong!

    It takes sixty minutes to make an hour, yet one smile can make a day!

    May what I say and what I do bring some smiles as well as tears to your day or night, grins as well as frowns—I can’t do that for you, read as if you are listening to yourself—the insights from here on out are yours not mine, or perhaps we can have some together; so  now it’s up to you!

    Welcome to:

    Silent Listener

    A blog too late, too soon

    August 20th, 2022


    continuously churning,


    of life amidst joy and strife

    If I learned anything in life, it’s that I didn’t learn it soon enough!

    I’ve been dealing with Parkinson’s (a degenerative brain disease) for almost twenty years and have been wanting to work on my collection of poems and prose for over sixty years—never had the time to focus on that until now, figured that someday… never…

    Parkinson’s has been taking away my physical abilities, so maybe I won’t be typing them. I’ll be able to dictate them, and all is well.

    Did you know that Parkinson’s can take your voice away? Mine can grind steel! Such is life in all its wonders… and blunders.

    Last week I had THE MOST SEVERE ATTACK of Parkinson’s I’ve ever had—being on good drugs Parkinson’s has been mostly an annoyance requiring due caution. Many have had it much worse! Twenty years? I was a novice!

    Three days and counting with ‘Parky” was a life-changing experience. Okay, dexterity gone, voice gone, driving gone?

    An increase of already familiar drugs got me back in action, driving probably okay soon. Therefore, my chances of doing any mass amount of writing are gone to neverland?

    But I wanted to write on these experiences, so I started anyway.

    Using texting as a means? My input derives an output looking like my right hand was playing piano and my left hand was dribbling a basketball. No angels on the tip of my pens, every signature is an unrepeatable masterpiece, from the no light zone. So, no texting unless phone is on a stable flat surface. Possible but not very productive; hard to carry that table everywhere I go.

    Tried sit-down data entry method: sure, and then the keyboard stops working; finally fixed after three days of fighting software and hardware issues. End of the yellow brick road, right?

    But guess what, my typing is better than ever—not perfect but still phenomenal, the muscle memory is so strong sometimes I think of a word and then start to change my mind, and I can’t stop my fingers from finishing the original thought. (So that’s how pianists can retain their skills!

    When I concentrate on typing I have a lot of clumsy errors, when I let my fingers take control the keyboard flies with my dancing hands and fingers. It’s embarrassing to find out that my fingers know more about what needs to be done than my brain does! (More on the subject later, for now, this news that just muscled into my life is a miracle, it’s a hope restoring treasure).

    This is my first blog—it’s taken 79 years and even more tears to get here. Currently the hope is reenergizing me—my prayer is that some of these words and thoughts may help to energize you.

    There will be some of what some people call God-speak, hints and overtones of a religious nature, perhaps some spiritual emphasis, and gobbledygook as well— that’s a reflection in the mirror of where I’m coming from, not the window I’m preaching —for you to look through.

    I’m starting to stray away from my introduction to myself (and to you) what I’m doing, and why.

    I’m writing this for my personal pleasure, and mental benefit as well. And to share with my separated family what separates us that we might become more united again as well. And rightly so it is for you and me!

    I’ll move on to some witticisms before the criticisms begin——how does one learn lessons learned through the pain of both——when the issue is not the who did what done——he issue is the hurt done on all sides, and the hurt done to those outside the target zone, yet still in danger, still in fear, still wounds to be healed! A long, lonely walk at times, yet a journey well worth taking, mileage beyond measure.

    I’ve often said the ideal retirement for me would be a struggling gold mine, pay veins strong enough to keep me fed, and hard rock-hard life enough to keep me healthy and out of trouble.

    Here’s where I start to mine again the treasures God has given me to sustain my mind and soul, perhaps I can pass along to you the riches unlimited when His might and love are revealed.

    Pride has been an awful stumbling block for me. As much as I’d like to think I’ve written many of the gems I hope to share, I know better! Good writing, and the hard rock research it takes to do well and timely the tasks required.

    A fellow worker once (actually twice) said to me that he was lazy: he took the time and energy required to do a good job—he didn’t want to need to do it again.

    Writing is not something I do right the first time so I don’t have to do it again… listening in silence as God speaks, not always directly to me, but as He speaks to others and through them, through family and friends, not always through words but through action, through sharing of heart and soul, joy and laughter, pain and sorrow. I listen as He speaks and take notes to use in sharing the joy and lessons life with God brings to us.

    Worthless Treasures*

    — Gold to Me —

    —nuggets from the wanderings and wonderings

    of a truly lonely man —

    —when self did rule,

    what little he

    did learn about—

    *Sorry, that’s one of many stories, yearning for another telling time. And it’s not the stories or the teller, it’s the silent listener in you. I can’t relate to you from the outside.

    I jest in part, but it’s the height of arrogance to think anything I say to you can have a helpful impact on your life. I can only hope and pray that, like me, you are a silent listener, who knows that God is always speaking. He speaks to us through already active channels, through your work, your hobbies, your families, all channels to which you are tuned.

    An announcer can never, will never, know his or her listeners——because he or she seldom listens to them. Is an author that much different?

    Sometimes we just must admit that we like learning from other’s mistakes rather than from our own, but we learn the best when we learn from our own moan and groan. You haven’t learned ‘till you’ve been humbled—by having to fix your own mistakes!

    Memories shared best by those who cared and dared with you!

    Walk backwards in your mind — you can foresee much of the future — by looking into your past, not to regress but progress with success!

    See who it is I am to you, a mirror of your inner thoughts, that most resembles you; judgement is often more a reflection of your joys and sorrows, frets and regrets. Engage others joyfully and you will likely see them their best. Hear me by hearing you!

    Life is indeterminate in its meaning, without your wiling participation; determine your life’s meaning to have meaning, and it will have you at your best.

    Share each other’s sorrows and joys but leave their spouses alone!

    Walking alone through a forest I am not alone yet I can be alone amid a crowd if I see only me!

    It all comes out in the wash—but if it doesn’t, you’re in trouble with you-know-who!

    Rise above the clouds today,

    Throw your troubles to the winds,

    Turn over a new leaf,

    and take the path you’ve chosen—

    but don’t” forget to smell the roses

    the road may be hilly at times,

    rich with unseen sights:

    your many paths are winding

    some sights occur again

    reach for the sky from in the trees,

    the portal’s there, no fence in sight

    gold’s in the light & dark

    the sun does set each every day

    and yet will rise again!

    keep on your road yet know at home

    is where you’ll truly find your rest

    yet keep on traveling still!

    The choice is now, has always been, to stop and smell the flowers…

    and be a pleasant sight to others, and friendly sound as well!

    Some pictures hold a thousand words, with stories yet to tell,

    yet all one has to do was listen—to learn from them as well!

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