I am SO SICK of gun violence


I am all heated up over here on Cheeky Street this week about gun violence.  Mother Jones recently published some great material providing important background and facts about the current political environment (e.g., powerful Gun Lobby) essentially prohibiting the Centers for Disease Control from addressing gun violence in America as a public health issue.  Thus, research about the impact of gun violence on Americans since 2005 is not cohesive and, more alarming, public policies to address the facts are stifled by members of Congress who are financed by wealthy gun advocates.  So, stories like the ones in this article continue.  And America is paying mightily:

Courtesy of Mother Jones Magazine


Grateful November Monday

A fellow blogger is asking the community to offer gratitude posts this morning, and I am more than happy to oblige.

I am ETERNALLY grateful for:

  1. The love of my “family of origin” and blessings of friendship with my Mom and 4 sisters;
  2. A warm house, food to eat, healthy children and husband, and the means to make a difference;
  3. Unwavering Guidance from my Higher Power and community of Recovering Friends;
  4. The gifts of joy and beauty that surprise and elate me every waking hour;
  5. A safe community, clean air and water, the right to vote and participate in public discourse;
  6. The gift of restful sleep and the wonder and grace of the new beginning of each day of life.
My beautiful Mom and her 5 girls. 1967
My beautiful Mom and her 5 girls. 1967

Better Not to Feel Inferior Nor Superior


“You cannot have feelings of superiority and not an enemy make. The same occurs when you would make yourself inferior, and you are always making for yourself a place at one of these extremes. And all this effort and conflict arises simply from your insistence upon being separate.” (ACOL, C:14.3)

Most of us have been caught in the trap of feeling inferior or superior to others, and we suffered as a result. Our feelings of inferiority gave us many moments of sadness and dejection. Our feelings of superiority were often compensation for the inferior feelings—when our ego had had enough of feeling dejected.

Was there any truth to any of this? Absolutely none. We are neither inferior nor superior to any other human being. All of us are, truly, created equal.

It is a particular desire on the part of those on the spiritual path to feel better than others…

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for the failing mom days

My world is full of those if then statements. If only I did this then I’d be better at this. And so often motherhood is linked in that if then equation and most of the time it’s with me sitting on the falling short side of the scale. So then when others tell me words about me being a good mom, well, I just don’t even know how to deal with them. In fact, oftentimes if someone tells me that I’m a good mom tears will pool in those very exhausted eyes of mine.

Source: for the failing mom days

Published On This Day in 1819

John Keats (1795-1821)


SEASON of mists and mellow fruitfulness,
Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun;
Conspiring with him how to load and bless
With fruit the vines that round the thatch-eves run;
To bend with apples the moss’d cottage-trees,
And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core;
To swell the gourd, and plump the hazel shells
With a sweet kernel; to set budding more,
And still more, later flowers for the bees,
Until they think warm days will never cease,
For Summer has o’er-brimm’d their clammy cells.


Who hath not seen thee oft amid thy store?
Sometimes whoever seeks abroad may find
Thee sitting careless on a granary floor,
Thy hair soft-lifted by the winnowing wind;
Or on a half-reap’d furrow sound asleep,
Drows’d with the fume of poppies, while thy hook
Spares the next swath and all its twined flowers:
And sometimes like a gleaner thou dost keep
Steady thy laden head across a brook;
Or by a cyder-press, with patient look,
Thou watchest the last oozings hours by hours.


Where are the songs of Spring? Ay, where are they?
Think not of them, thou hast thy music too,—
While barred clouds bloom the soft-dying day,
And touch the stubble plains with rosy hue;
Then in a wailful choir the small gnats mourn
Among the river sallows, borne aloft
Or sinking as the light wind lives or dies;
And full-grown lambs loud bleat from hilly bourn;
Hedge-crickets sing; and now with treble soft
The red-breast whistles from a garden-croft;
And gathering swallows twitter in the skies.

Harmon lists To Autumn as the most anthologized poem in the English language. It was written on September 19, 1819, and published the following year. To Autumn can be found in:
Keats, John. Lamia, Isabella, The Eve of St. Agnes, and Other Poems. London: Talor and Hessey, 1820. (as found in the Noel Douglas replica edition printed by London: Percy Lund, Humphries & Co. Ltd., 1927.)
Harmon, William, ed. The Classic Hundred Poems (Second Edition). New York: Columbia University Press, 1998.

A Small Reminder About Sobriety as a Spiritual Gift

A dear friend sent me this article yesterday – At the time Robin Williams ended his life, I was deeply involved in my own addiction and missed the connection between his alcoholism and overwhelming fear and anxiety.  Great, thoughtful read.  Today I will carry with me Louisa P.’s reminder that sobriety is, indeed, a spiritual gift:AA


All In Good Time

Muddling Through My Middle Age

Recently, I was having lunch with a young friend I hadn’t seen in a while, and we were having a nice time catching up on each other’s lives.  She told me what her plans were for the immediate future, and then added wistfully, “But I’ll be thirty soon, and I’m not exactly where I thought I would be by now.”  Now this was coming from a young woman who has already lived in several foreign countries, is bilingual, and preparing for a career in international service, so at first that remark seemed a bit odd for someone who has already accomplished so much.  But then I remembered how I felt when I was in my twenties, and I understood exactly what she meant.

I remembered when I had also thought that there were certain milestones I needed to reach by a certain age if I wanted to be successful and…

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