Post Traumatic Stress in the Sixties

We know today that posttraumatic stress disorder is plaguing veterans. It took a long time for to admit that those who live with the constant threat of death are never the same. I remember when my husband returned from Vietnam. He was confused, angry, and finally, dangerous for me and my child to be around. I tried to get help from the Army and from the Veterans hospital, but no one knew then what we do now.
And I think also about growing up during the sixties, with the Cold war, the "duck and tuck" drills, the bomb shelters, and TV tests. I wonder sometimes if we all don't have just a shred of PTSD. That sense of fight or flight that leaves us jumpy, that lead us on the rebellious path that is the legacy of the sixties.
If we can dive into ourselves, and remember, we can help with the universal acceptance that man, in terms of both male and female, have difficulty taking lives in the exploding environment that is war, and then not expect these veterans to return to normality with the descent from the plane.
Acclamation into normality needs some time.
And, in the US today, what is normal? Don't we all share in the towers, in the fear? Of course, we live each day, we laugh, we go on, because that is the nature of man, to survive. But we can acknowledge, and have mercy.
I have lived with this sense of an impending threat since I was small, since I watched the TV, listened to adults talk about the bomb, about nuclear threats, and did the drills in school.
When I was 10, I wrote this poem:

I'd hate to be in a war
Even if I didn't get hurt.
To have some strange man come and say " I won you,"
I didn't know I was a prize.
Surprise!

Discovered

I saw my dreams today in your eyes.
That glance surprised me.
The dreams danced lightly,
Snapshots from the future
I keep, and no one knows.
But your eyes knew.

Jewels, my feelings,
Displayed within my heart,
Diamond fire on dark velvet:
Merchant's wares.
And I, so startled, thought,
"I have a fortress so secure",
Bright chambers for my dreams
And stalwart sentries
Guarding all my treasure.

Miser, I am,
Holding all of this, but safe.
Until I saw what frightened me:
That someone knew my soft and secret child.

And yet, I would not trade
Or lay these jewels aside.
The feelings they reflect
Glide across my heart, so silken,
And, within their folds,
I clamor through this fortress,
Opening my dreams to see
How you have come by them,
And how they nested in your eyes.

copyright penstruck

Faith

A door beyond vision
or
A place beyond touch.
What cannot be known, is.
Transparent substance
That sustains through trials
And leads, like a light,
Down the shadowed corridors
Of an unknown day.

Things beyond knowledge
Are known through the heart:
Planted by a word from God
That grows, perceptive in the Spirit,
Discerning what is
And has not been,
Yet.

copyright penstruck

Sacred Things

Sacred things.
Keeping secrets,
Listening when you’re busy
Holding memories tight
And opening your heart.

Loving the unlovely
Smiling when you’re worn
Patiently tying a child’s shoe
And opening your heart.

For all the sacred thoughts and dreams
For holy smiles and words
For sunshine on a winter’s day
We hold our sacred things
Gently, like young children,
And sacredly open our hearts.

Copyright penstruck

What is Mercy

This is mercy.
The sense of dread is gone.
My shoulders lightened,
And smiling goes deeper than my lips,
Into my thoughts, into my eyes.
The everyday is restored with greeting.

I am looking forward to the usual,
Dusting, sweeping, paying bills.
Grateful thanks I awoke this morning.
No one was dead, no one was screaming.
No person was demanding my time, my decision, my thoughts
Today is mine. And I am happy.

Just a simple prayer. “Jesus, help.”
He did, and has, restored my life:
Because life isn’t always dreams fulfilled or desires obtained,
It is the everyday:
The joy of coffee, raindrops on the windows
And the sun rising,
The anticipation of joy.

copyright penstruck

Moonie the Witch

Moonie the witch is an age-old fable
Told oft at night 'round the dinner table
She could fly like a cloud
She was fearless and bold
She was kindness and light
She was always polite

If you had dinner with Moonie
You would dine on the moon
Table set with star dishes and plenty of spoons
You could sit at the table, put the spoon to the floor
Scope up mounds of cheese
And then dig down more

There were sandwiches filled with Jupiter jam
And fine fish from Neptune, and heavenly ham.
Mercury cakes filled with smooth Saturn rings
And plenty of Marzipan icing the thing.
Volumes of Venus beans, Mars sauce on the side
A table so spread, you are almost cockeyed.
Then dirt cakes from Earth, served in sunny jugs,
And Sweet Pluto pudding filled Uranusing mugs.

You would eat all your able,
At the table with spoons
While the stars changed from dishes
To lights for the room.
And Moonie would smile, and offer you more
So that when you were full, you would lay on the floor.


Then Moonie would move all the tables away
Throw you a pillow
So you could comfortably lay.
While she started the music
Comet Tail Hop and Sway
You would stand up and dance,
Little footsteps sashay
The twirling and rocking were magic, pure fun
And everyone laughed, yes, everyone

When the sun began yawning, and rising for day
She would fill sacks with cakes
You could all take away
Then you would climb on the length of her broom
She would fly you to home and your own soft bedroom
Where you lay down your head
And smile with delight
From the dinner and dancing with Moonie that night

Copyright Penstruck

Dancing on the Path

Is this why I danced?
With daisies in my hair
Wore skirts so short
My cheeks were constant blush
And mothered children:

To slip so quietly into assisted living and oatmeal

The past is paved within me
Roads and rooms so filled with what has been
Built upon the gentle stones of schoolyards and promise
Cemented with ambition and dreams
Sorrows and despair.
There are worlds within me,
My vision shines with them
Alive and touching all that I am
Sinew in my soul, whittled wisdoms in my thoughts.

Such eyes as these should not close
With nothing to remember that the future glides
On my footsteps.

Copyright Penstruck

What does it mean to be a Christian

What does it mean to be a Christian? Christian is an accepted term for a group of religious dominations subscribing to the belief that God sent his Son, Jesus, to live and die so that mankind could be once and for all united with God, beyond the Old Testament law.

So does being a Christian mean that you are a member of a denomination, even a non-denomination? Or does being a Christian mean that you, as an individual, have accepted as indisputable truth the Jesus was born of a virgin, lived, and died to reconcile you to God? And, if you, as an individual, believe and accept this, what is the responsibility of your everyday life?

Does it mean you follow a pre-described set of rules defined by an organized sect of the Christian religion? Or do you follow your heart?

It is good to be taught, and to understand Jesus and God's word. It is good to spend time understanding the sin nature of yourself, and why God had the need to send Jesus to die. You cannot change your nature, but you can ask Jesus to change your nature. And you can act as God would, with love, compassion and patience.

You can, through reading the Bible, prayer, and a devotion of thought life, draw close to God. So that you can ask, in any situation, how you should respond.

You cannot get close to God by following rules designed to define how you should act. Do you think God cares if ladies wear makeup, or men play cards? Only if in doing those things, your character is affected. God is concerned about the character of a person, not the actions. But, but, you say.

BUT think about it. The reason you do something is directly related to your inner man. When your character is aligned with God, you will only WANT to do things that reflect that.

It is simple, really, to be a Christian. Do good, and don't wait for people to praise you for it. It is only you and God. You can be a Democrat, and still be a Christian. You can understand that you are meant to live in the world, and be a light, so you mix with unbelievers, you go to school with them, and you work with them.

As you walk, be a person who lives in the light. People will come to you. Because they will be curious about your peace, your kindness, your excellence in your work, or education.

Homeschooling: Learning to spell

When I was a little kid, somehow, I fell in love with words. I had a best friend, Kathy Schmidt. Her last name was the first word I learned to spell.
I am a smart person. But when I was a kid, I didn't have a filter, you know, the thing that makes you hold back on saying what you really mean. That did create some problems for me growing up. But eventually, I learned to craft words more kindly.
Anyway, Kathy and I were in her house, and her Dad was teaching her to spell her last name. S-C-H-M-I-D-T. It was interesting at first, but Kathy just couldn't get it. Her Dad was very patient, spelling it over, and over, and over. "Oh, comeon, Kathy, schmidt, it's not that hard!" I said.
Her Dad looked at me with real kindness, and said not everyone was a smart as me, and I had to learn to be more patient. I said I was sorry, and I meant it. But it set me to wondering, how smart was I? And more, how could words have such power?

Words are the most powerful tools we have. As parents, our words actually shape the personality, security and self-esteem of our kids. As adults, words affirm, solidify and amuse. Words are powerful, use them with care.

Unschooling: tales of near death and betrayl

I am learning about Unschooling. As I think about the philosophy I found while reading about Unschooling, I thought about all the unschooling that happened to me before I was six. I know the before six part, because my family moved to the suburbs when I was in first grade. The unschooling lessons I learned involved near death experiences and betrayal, as seen through curiously intuitive eyes.

I remember watching the Hallmark Hall of Fame show about a lady who was a pirate or leader of some group. What impressed me was that she jumped from a high tower into a sheet the guys held. This looked really fun and exciting. So, the next day, I talked my girlfriends, Kathy and Peggy, into playing this game.
We went to the back of Peggy's apartment building. We found a screen door. They held it and I went up to the third floor landing and climbed over the rail, prepared for adventure. It was cut short by a neighbor who rushed, screaming, and grabbed me. I was not happy. But later I learned I could have been killed.

Living in the city, hills and trees were fun places to go. My sister had to take me with her and her friends, and we were going to Mud Hill. Mud Hill was two blocks, one busy street and a good hill climb. Then we had to walk across a train trestle to reach Mud Hill. The slats were pretty far apart, and I had short legs. I stepped into the middle of the slat, and my shoe got caught. I didn't know anything about spatial relationship, so I was worried I would be stuck forever. Then I saw the train coming. I screamed "Barbie, Barbie" and other yells. The group turned back. My sister said, "Oh, she always yells like that" and kept walking. I think it was my cousin who finally had pity and saved my life. I wasn't sure I could trust my sister after that.

Now, the big betrayal. One hot afternoon, I took $5.00 from my dad's dresser and bought everyone in the neighborhood an ice cream from the ice cream man. My sister had two fudge bars. Later that day, I was coming up the front steps, and heard my sister telling my mom about how "… and she took money from your dresser and bought everyone ice cream, hump." However, she left out the part about how she ate two, and, even though she was five years older than me, did not try to stop me at all.
I slid against the wall, trying to get to my bedroom unnoticed. It did not work. I got spanked and she got ice cream.

Unschooling happens all the time. Even when kids are traditionally educated.

Unschooling: When did the land of the free become the home of the stupid

I watched a short interview on CNN this afternoon. The host was 'chatting' with a woman who unschooled her children. When asked how her kids would learn things like trigonometry, the woman tried to respond, but couldn't pronounce the word. Then she said if her teenage son wanted to learn it, they would look it up on the Internet.

I have no words.

I write regularly helping parents find ways to motivate and teach their teenagers. And live through the teen years. Parents want kids to stay in school, to graduate and move out. But I found out that as many as 300,000 kids are in the unschool program.

These are the future leaders of our country. That scares me, and I'm fearless.

Christianity today: a simple calling

"Come, and I will make you fishers of men". This is what Jesus said when he called the first disciples, Andrew and Peter. The men left their fishing nets and followed Jesus.

I am amazed at times how far from that moment Christianity have moved. It's no longer "Come", but "come, and do this, and do that, and act this way, and dress that way, and don't do this, and don't do that, and you will learn to be a fisher of men". It seems as if many Christians have assumed the life changing power of Christ, and put very many caveats on accepting Jesus as Lord.

But it's very simple. "Come." Don't worry about your present lifestyle or actions. If you hear the call to "come," just do it. What you will learn is that God is very capable of helping you become the person He wants you to be. What does God want? Honesty, integrity, self-respect, fairness, kindness, goodness and people able to show love. Because God loves us. And we are His mirrors.

Legend has it that Peter was a jerk. He admitted he was a sinful man. Peter also said to Jesus "Where else would we go? You are the Lord." Jesus gave Peter the keys to the kingdom. But not because Peter was so saintly, but because Peter was always the first to believe, and Peter knew that Jesus was Lord.

If God calls to you "Come," let your heart respond. Trust God to teach you, as Jesus taught His disciples. Honestly, you will learn about how Jesus built his disciples faith. Jesus took them out in the boats after they had a long, unsuccessful day of fishing, and filled their nets. Jesus sent them ahead in a boat to the other side of the lake, and then walked out to them. He awoke during a storm when they were afraid and stopped the storm. He fed the thousands from the few loaves and fishes His disciples brought Him. Jesus talked with the disciples daily, answered their questions, and was a living example of the character of God. They knew Him well, and He was whom they desired to be.

Woodstock-Where were you in 1969?

Hey all you old hippies! Saturday, August 15, 2009 is the 40th anniversary of Woodstock.

Where were you in 1969. I was on my way to New York in my little yellow volkswagon. Never made it, the car broke down. I was bummed.

Woodstock was a peaceful, messy, farout music festival. Short on food, water, and clean condtions, hippies remained peaceful and fun-filled. Yeah, some drugged out, most were high, but this was a time when you knew the person next to you had your back.

It was a time before the drug wars, the bikers, and the bad guys. Peace, love, and rock n roll.

I am older now, straight, and a solid citizen. But my heart beats hippie.