Walk On

The Champions Who Walked Among Us

Viewpoint: Precedent Historical Repetition

History is repeating itself. The age of Humanism is slowly marching off the world stage, but what comes next?   Precedent historical repetition says that sooner or later another nation will rise. After all, the human race has lived through the rise and fall of many great nations. History is repeating itself.

The situation among the cultures is precarious. The Iron Curtain is slowly rising out of its sleep and finding its home among nations that want to protect their economy and the pure ethnicity of their race. Cultural diversity is leaving the stage. History is repeating itself.

The rudimentary ordinances of nature are being disobeyed. What was once one plus one equals two is now one plus one equals whatever makes you feel good. History is repeating itself.

Over one million people are on the run. The number of people who have died so far on the ground, in airplanes, in the seas is heartbreaking. Men talked, yet children cry, children die, women cry, women die. History is repeating itself.

In every corner of the world, there is tumult. Philosophical antagonism demands closed borders.  An antagonism based on supremacy, it has plummeted us even nearer to a world war. It enacts to dominate, to make all men and women think alike. This antagonism has no mercy, no understanding, and no love. History is repeating itself.

“What are you doing, Child?” The Prophet asked.

“Watching the New Year come in over the earth.”

“Oh, that’s nice.”

“No, it’s not nice Prophet. It’s sad.”

“Why, Child. What do you see?”

“In every corner, I see children starving, women crying, human life wasted. Prophet, don’t people ever read about the past?”

“No, Child. That’s why History repeats itself.”

 

Happy New Year Everyone,

Alles Gute Zum Neuen Jahr Alle,

Bonne Nouvelle Pour Tout Le Monde,

Feliz Nuevo A Todo El Mundo,

Felice Nuovo Per Tutti,

L’Shana Tova,

 

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Shalom Aleichem,

Pat Garcia

Viewpoint: A Commentary on Christmas

The woman was heavy laden with child, and her husband looked at her with concern. Of course, he had to go. The census was mandatory. As he regarded his wife, he knew the journey would not be easy.

What is a few hundred miles or kilometers today? Catch a train to Hamburg from Frankfurt, Germany, and you arrive in four and a half hours, a plane ride from Augusta to Atlanta, Georgia is fifty-five minutes. However, this man did not have these comforts. His Mercedes-Benz was a donkey.

He observed his wife as he pondered over the trip ahead. Leaving her behind was not a consideration; in her was the hope of the nations, the salvation of the human race, and a shiver went through him as he thought of what could happen ahead. Thieves and robbers on the route and a desert where the temperature dropped at night were between the two cities, and ninety miles on a donkey was not a one-day ride.  He figured he might be able to travel 10 miles a day, but even that would be hard considering that she was heavily pregnant with child.

Today the significance of this event has been revised; the hardship erased. The importance of this Child’s birth has fallen into abnormality.

Soon, it is Christmas.

For me personally, it is the time when I reflect backward to that birth in Bethlehem with Thanksgiving in my heart.

His birth changed History;

His birth changed my life and gave me a vision with purpose;

The Son of God came to earth so that I could have the right to be accepted in the Beloved.

Merry Christmas to you,

Buon Natale a te,

Joyeux Noël à toi,

Frohe Weihnachten zu Ihnen,

Feliz Navidad a usted.

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Shalom Aleichem,

Pat Garcia

 

Viewpoint: Friday, Thirteen November 2015

Image 11-16-15 at 3.43 PMA Civil War founded upon religious beliefs and how people should live has spread itself to the European Continent. What happened in Paris, France, was a battle, and an act of war carried out by the Islamic State. That we refused to take the declaration of war seriously in 2014 has resulted in the mass, willful, killing of innocent people, which took place on Friday, the thirteenth of November.

Religion, which oppresses, is like a dictatorship suppressing the inalienable rights of each individual who lives under its umbrella. Unfortunately, these inalienable rights, known as life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness are also echoed by these totalitarian societies, but they are interpreted differently, and the cultural upbringing displays a life we people in the West are not accustomed to––freedom and individual development find itself caught on the blind side of life.

Hopefully, revelation has broken through the thick skull of false reality we have let descend upon us, and our eyes have been opened to see that not everyone think as we think, act as we act, and desire to live as we live. If this were true, the Islamic State would not exist.

Unfortunately, this clarity is too late for those people who lost their lives in Paris, France on that dreadful evening.

Viva la France!

 

Shalom,

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Pat Garcia

 

 

Poem by an Unknown Soldier Written During WWII

Hello Everyone,
Here is a beautiful poem that will touch your hearts. In view of all that is happening today, this poem still applies.
Shalom,
Patricia

Sarah's Bookshelf

Today’s post is a little different. As Rememberance Sunday, I thought I should post something topical, something that will allow us to remember those who died, and what they fought for.

_________________________

Stay with me God, the night is dark!

The night is cold; my little spark

Of courage dims, the night is long.

Be with me God and make me strong.

_________________________

I love a game; I love a fight.

I hate the dark; I love the light.

I love my child; I love my wife.

I am no coward. I love life.

_________________________

Life with its change of mood and shade,

I want to live. I’m not afraid.

But me and mine are hard to part.

O unknown God lift up my heart.

_________________________

You stilled the waters at Dunkirk

You saved Your servants, all Your work

Is wonderful. Dear God; you strode

Before us down that dreadful…

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Monday Funnies with AUNTY ACID…

Morning Everyone,
Aunty Acid is at it again. I love her wisdom on dealing with the obstacles of life, especially when you’re thrown a curve ball. So whatever life throws at you today, duck so it hits someone else. You don’t have to stand there and take it. You don’t have to start your week out with negativity. So duck and keep walking.

Shalom,
Pat Garcia

Chris The Story Reading Ape's Blog

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The Seventy-Nine-Words Story Challenge

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Hello Everyone,

I don’t know when it happen, but I remember reading the MONDAY FUNNIES, one morning and bursting out with laughter. I was hooked on the funnies. Laughter is not typical for me before eleven a.m. If you ask the people very close to me, they will tell you, Pat is usually unapproachable before eleven.

Honestly, as a writer, I find myself experiencing highs and lows.   It’s a writer madness that takes hold and motivates me to write what I see as I write about the world I live in during the early morning hours.

Thus, Chris Graham’s, CHRIS THE STORY READING APE’S BLOG has become a necessity in my life. It touches the humor within me, and laughter comes bubbling out.

Recently, Andrew Joyce, an author, sent out a dare, a seventy-nine-words dare to writers and it has been running on Chris’s blog as the Seventy-Nine-Words Story Challenge. Each week, stories are chosen as the best submitted. This week, one of my stories from The Child and The Prophet (a W.I.P.) was among the ones chosen and to be very honest with you that makes me happy.

To read my story and the stories of the other participants, please go to the link below. It’s only 79 words, and drop a line on Chris’s blog and let him know you were there and me too, of course.

 

http://thestoryreadingapeblog.com/2015/10/18/more-new-79-words-story-challenge-entrants/

Shalom,

Pat Garcia

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Shalom,

Pat Garcia

… dreams …

Good Evening Everyone,

In the Blog, Course of Mirrors, an article about dreams has been published. Again, this article is something that I would like to share, with you, because we tend to run and hide from that which we don’t understand about ourselves, especially when it deals with our dream world.

Shalom,
Pat Garcia

Course of Mirrors

Photos by Ashen Photos by Ashen

I used to host regular dream groups. We did not so much set out to analyse our dreams, but we played with them by engaging with their images, characters and objects. Sometimes we enacted scenes to widen associations and deepen our insights. While there is some excellent literature on working with dreams, a lot of it is boring, misleading and superficial. For me, the main purpose of valuing dreams lies in befriending the unconscious and the bringing to light what is timely and meaningful.

When we have no obvious explanation for events, dreams may bring subtle messages, offering glimpses of dynamics usually hidden from our awareness. A staggering 90 percent of personal and collective psychic dynamics trigger and compel our actions in life, and for good reason. The self-regulating psyche protects us from too much awareness. When encouraged, respected, and left to do its work, much like the immune…

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… what is your bliss? …

Hello everyone,

Here is a beautiful article that I would like to share on Walk On. It fits and I thought you would enjoy it.

Shalom,
Pat Garcia

Course of Mirrors

My moments of bliss come out of the blue, when I glimpse something moving in a certain way, in a certain light, not ordinary light, but a mysterious light that shines through nature.

P1070862 - smallerLike the day after the sky was veiled by thick curtains of rain and next morning the sun spun its brilliance through the cleansed air, and a warm breeze played through my washing on the line. Such joy, when for an instant my whole attention is timelessly merged with a particular quality of being, transporting me beyond my senses in ways I can’t fathom.

I draw these tricks of light to me, like a collector tends to attract the objects he/she desires. When days or weeks pass without such moments, I feel deprived and nothing quite chimes.

Maybe it’s a rare beauty that takes the mind by surprise and stops time. The washing line reminded me of…

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Its, A Mother’s Day Poem

Mouths starved.

Necks choked.

Shoulders bruised.

Torsos kicked.

These its,

These puny its have no voices.

Continue reading

My Viewpoint on Easter

Some people call him a harlot’s son; one of his grandmothers was a prostitute. Others say he wasn’t really completely Jewish; the Moabite tainted his bloodline.

Who was this man that respected man’s will to choose; that reached out to the brokenhearted and healed the sick?

What could have possessed him to be mocked, scorned, tortured and then hung on a cross? Could it have been love?

Today, over 2000 years later, some people celebrate his resurrection.

I am one of those people.

Shouts of praise came out of the mouths of the women that found his tomb empty, and I, too, shout with praise, JESUS IS RISEN!

Happy Easter Everyone,

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Shalom,

Pat Garcia

Blog and Poetry. A Story in the Making.

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