Gold Digger

I'm due to start a new job tomorrow in genealogy research. I've done ghost writing. Now I will be doing ghost hunting: tracking down people through public records. This all began as a favor for a friend of mine who is a research librarian. She began the search and hit a snag, so we pondered over what she had found together, and I saw something that stood out as if it was a neon sign. As I told her what I had deduced she said, "That's it! Now it all makes sense!" The patron who requested information from her has now employed me to continue the search.

I've been hard pressed often to try to explain to people how I happen to find the jobs that I work at. My explanation is that they find me. When I put one foot in front of the other I wind up in the right place at the right time. I don't go searching, although this job will force me to do that. What I need usually comes to me.

I don't suggest that other people try to live the way I do. I simply found that when I try to live the way others live, life goes backward. I don't know why I am the way I am. I just am. We all have different paths to walk in this life. It's only important that we find our path and walk along it. It's my goal to do as much good as I can do with my life. As some others seek to amass, I seek to give away. I struck gold within a while back, and the more I mine it, the deeper the vein seems to be.

Mining the gold isn't nearly as difficult as trying to give it away. I live in a world overly crowded with people who do not see their own worth. They place their value outside of themselves, on what they have accomplished, what they own and how much money they can accumulate in one lifetime. I have nothing against accomplishment, owning possessions, or having a financial reserve. Such things are pleasant experiences to have. They do not, though, decide my personal worth. My value as a person does not decrease when I am sick, experience material loss, or am broke. I may not feel as happy, but I feel just as valuable as when in better physical circumstances.

I am not one bit more valuable than any other human being, nor am I less valuable than any other human being. Those who treat me as if I have greater or lesser value than they possess do themselves a disservice. They have not yet touched their inner gold. Some will pass through life never knowing how valuable they were. Some will try to convince those of us who act upon our value that we are mistaken. Other will accuse us of being overly proud. But some get curious. They see, in the shine in our eyes and the smile on our faces, something that they experienced at some time in their past, and they come closer to ask questions.

That's when I get to give my gold away.

Little Things

As the gnats swarmed around my head
I swatted, first with one hand, then the other.
With both hands flailing, I thought,
"This can't be worth it!"
And retreated to a place of shade away from the little pests.
They were in numbers sufficient enough to wreck a picnic,
But not a life.

What's in a Name?

I feel sad this morning, but peaceful. It's not an "unpretty" feeling at all. I alternate between a cat licking her fur, and a dog licking it's wounds. On one hand I feel good about myself. On the other I am sitting quietly recognizing that wounds have occurred and that they will heal. Sorrow is much prettier than anger. I'm accepting that I have become a person that I have wanted to be, against all odds. The glory in that goes directly to God.

If I were to die today there would be some who would say, "She died young." There would be other's who would say, "She lived a full life." At fifty-nine, I realize that I may have many years ahead of me, but I also realize that there are a lot more years behind me, than what may lie ahead. As I see it, all of my days are extra now. I've married, been widowed, raised children and nursed my parents unto death. Home and family has always meant more to me than anything else. I've had my heart full in that area, and I've had my heart broken. Both things taught me a lot about love.

Fifty-nine is an odd age. It's not quite old, but certainly not young. "Old enough!" is the way I think about it. The world has changed a lot since I was a girl, so I'm not having the experiences I would have liked to have had at this age, but there are just enough people who cherish and respect, for me to be glad to be alive.

I am a homemaker without a home, a wife without a husband, a mother without children and a daughter without parents...yet here I am, still Beth. I have no particular plan for my life, for plans, obviously, haven't proven to work well for me, but I do have a loving sense of direction.
There are grown men and women now who call me "Mom" and from the way they respond to me, they truly mean it. They cherish. They respect. I fill with awe when I think of them, just as I used to do the same when I looked upon those I gave birth to. The feelings are identical.

Throughout my life I have been severely criticized for being true to myself. There were those who criticized me for marrying young, but when my husband died when he was only twenty-seven, they stopped. There were those who criticized me for striving to remain home when I was raising my children, and those who criticized me for keeping my parents out of a nursing home, and not worrying about what would happen when they passed. My father died in 1992. My mother died in 1999. I'm still alive. I've found it odd that I have been more strongly criticized for the things I have done right in life, than for anything I did wrong. There were always plenty of people willing to encourage me to do something wrong, and a lot fewer to encourage me to do as I felt needed to be done. I think the only reason I have found that odd is that I really have been true to myself. I wouldn't have wanted to face myself in the mirror if I hadn't done what was on my heart to do.

Life hasn't been the way I would like it to be, but I've become the woman I want to be. There are many contrasts in life. Things that I don't like seem to make things that I do like stick out more. There was a time, years ago, when I didn't want to live and was too much of a coward to die. Today, not only do I enjoy my experience of life, I like myself, even when others don't.

Amazing grace. An Awesome God. I continue to write about Him, and about what He does with me, which makes me Oneamazingwriter.

Sarcasm the Cutting Edge

I entered into an online discussion today in which a man had ridiculed Christians saying that their belief that worshipping throughout eternity was shallow. It struck me funny. I saw no depth in a grave and said so. The man said I had attacked him. Apparently those who like to ridicule do not like having pointed out that they have said something humorous. He replied "How Christian of you."

Those who want to hate, are going to hate. If I have learned anything I have learned that. I feel no need to defend my Christianity to that man. It's my Christianity that defends me against such people! "Fight this battle for me please, Lord."

Those who resort to sarcasm as humor laugh as they stick in knives. I never saw stabbing as something to laugh at. A quick retort simply shows a mind that doesn't leave room for the humanity of another. As a Christian I pray to be slow to anger and quick to forgive. That works just fine for me. My laughter is that of joy. It is a simple thing based upon the ability to see how human and humor truly go together. Taking myself too seriously makes no sense to me at all.

I have been told by many sarcastic people that I am not logical. I see no logic in sarcasm. It makes not sense to me to build oneself up by putting another person down. I laughed at the illogic of the man's statement. I felt sad for the man when he decided that I wasn't acting Christian enough for him. He didn't say that his name was Christ, so I didn't worry about it. I am puzzled at times by those who aren't Christian trying to tell those of us who are that we aren't doing it right. And then I laugh again. I think it's funny! Things that make no sense often strike me funny. Slap stick humor and I get along well.

If cutting edge technology means dehumanizing oneself, I think I will settle for old-fashioned living. I can do more good with a feather than with a knife. I prefer to tickle people. Becoming a meek geek is a challenge. I've always enjoyed a challenge.

A Forever Love

Camera shy lady
Mother's precious child
Just one photo
To remember you by

Tug at my heartstings
They are secure
You have a longer leash now
But I'm still on the other end

The Extreme Geek's Beginner's Guide to Dating Part I

1. The shortest distance between two points is a straight line, but if there is a mountain between the two points, and one is walking, there are times that going the long way around may prove to be, not only less exhausting than trying to go in a straight line, but also, in the long run, the shortest distance. True, one could tunnel through the mountain, but by the time that operation is completed the reason one was traveling from one point to another may no longer be valid.

2. 2x1=2 1+1=2 I can work on a project on Saturday and Sunday or I can work with another on Saturday and we can both take a break on Sunday. If I feel restless when I have a whole day to myself, I can work on a project by myself on Sunday. I could also make plans with the same person that I worked with Saturday and find something to do that isn't work. When loneliness is factored out, good humor often rushes in to fill the void.

3. A dog is not as intelligent as I am. I cannot teach calculus to a dog. The dog does not care what I know or don't know. The dog will, though, do what I train it to do within it's capabilities, regardless of my manner of teaching it. The dog wants to learn. I can experiment with the dog. I can watch it's expressions and see what posture it takes as I try different tones of voice in giving a command. The dog can be used as a firewall to keep intrusive humans outside the home and away from my computer. If I laugh, cry or occassionally pet the dog, it won't tell anyone. My sense of emotional privacy will remain intact.

4. A woman is more intelligent than a dog, but not as predictable. (Refer to #1) A woman will place an expectation that we spend time together away from my work. (Refer to #2) A woman will care more about the tone of my voice when I speak to her than what I have to say. (Refer to #3) At this point it is important to reconsider the dog. The same dog that acts as firewall may now act as a buffer between a woman and me. If the dog likes the woman, there is a chance that I might, too. If the woman likes the dog, there's a chance that she may like me. If I like the woman, the woman likes the dog, the dog likes the woman, but the woman doesn't like me, the dog will still like me anyway, and the two of us can go off alone together and keep one another company.

Love's Path

How does one communicate the path of a soul? Can one communicate the path of a soul? Does one need to communicate the path of a soul?

Questions like that were on my mind this morning. My path has brought me to write this page. Your path has brought you to read this page. I've decided that it's most important to simply make certain that love is the path and the action on the path. Where that path leads either one of us is love's decision. Why confuse myself with further inquiry?

Hi! there! 'Glad we can connect for a moment in time! It's a trip; isn't it?
Whatever we can agree upon will cause us a moment of ease, and whatever we disagree about will send us in different directions. Both attraction and repulsion generate energy and supply direction.

So what brought you here? Me? I'm writing because it's an especially quiet and incredibly pretty day. I have no desire to physically go anywhere at the moment, my head is already full of things I have been studying, and my thoughts are on someone that I have never met.

Like I said, it's a trip, isn't it? Holding people in thought whom we have never met isn't new to any of us who use the Internet to connect with one another. In my case I go through the whole phenomena of having a crush or "falling in love" at times. Journeying in mind and spirit has an effect on one's emotions. Sometimes there's simply that special "click" and the curiosity that follows it sets me on a new course.

I analyzed the sensation for as long as I felt the need to do so several years ago. Then I let go and laughed. Attractions keep me interested in life. Repulsions help me to better define my preferences. When I am attracted I forget about myself. When I am repulsed I learn more about myself. I decided that both must be necessary, so I enjoy both.

I have more time than most to simply sit, think and feel. I love to write, so I record some of my thoughts and feelings. It's my hope that in doing so, those who have less time than I do might find some answers for themselves. I like things that are both pretty and practical.

If something "clicked" in you as you read this, take it and run with it. It's free. It's my intention to share love indiscriminately. If you were drawn here, then you are meant to feel loved. Please do!

Life is just too short to spend too much time quibbling over what love is and who gets it. Take it with you! It will tell you who you are...for love tends to define us, rather than allow us to define it.