A man tried to jump off a Detroit overpass. Then 13 truckers saved him.

http://www.9news.com/mobile/article/news/a-man-tried-to-jump-off-a-detroit-overpass-then-13-truckers-saved-him/73-545168022

( Sent from 9NEWS )

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Adequacy

Social networking increases our ability to connect with friends and former acquaintances. It also gives us power. Power is a valuable tool, and can construct or destruct. If you are confused with how it gives us power, let me elaborate. It is our “platform” so to speak, our pedestal to prop ourselves up, in some cases above others. When we prop ourselves up, we can create a sense of security in our social standing and acceptance among those we covet. What we neglect to notice is how we can affect others in this process. While we are busy constructing our view of our life for others to peek into, we are destructing the confidence of others around us. The power we feel from putting our life on a pedestal, with all the perfect pictures, comments we add to our friends pictures, and carefully crafted image of our life; we fail to notice those around us who struggle with feeling adequate.

I read an article about the restructuring of the news source Indian Country Today, and it struck a nerve. The last question the interviewer asked was what is an important issue that needed attention. The response: “The teen suicide rate on Indian reservations is higher than anywhere else in the world.” Not the country, not a specific state, the entire world.

What does this have to do with social media? I can’t draw the lines exactly, I haven’t been on a reservation since 1999. Well before social media was even a thing, but it was on it’s way. What I can attest to is how the sense of feeling adequate in the face of the world is critical in constructing your life. On the flip side, when you feel inadequate, whether on your own or in comparison to others, destructing your life becomes a possibility.

We watch the girl we barely know go on vacation, from our cell phone on facebook while riding a bus to school, or from our couch with a box of tissues. We compare our life to hers, why we can’t go on vacation, or our vacation wasn’t as… epic. What we don’t see, and many others have written about this, is what her vacation was really like. All we see is what the person wants us to see. That is not the reality, it’s only a version, a constructed version.

I wish it was easier, sharing the beauty of our lives, our joys and happy times. Without hurting others in the process. It can be. What we really need is the actual human connection. I know that stepping out of the facebook realm I have missed a lot of what others I once knew share about their lives. I look at it as if they were going to share their vacation with me, I would know about it outside of the mass sharing index we use to catalog our life. I do know that when I look at my daughter’s and they are riding their bikes, or learning multiplication, or building forts… I see them. I don’t see a photo opportunity to show everyone else. I enjoy the moments, and savor the time we spend growing and learning together.

I have friends and family without kids. Some by choice, others by the waves of the universe. I know that their feelings of inadequacy may be hidden when they comment about how sweet, or when they scroll past and leave no comment because inside they are hurting.  This is why I don’t do it. There are friends and acquaintances who will miss out on what I don’t share, and I love to see the honesty in what some people do share.

What kind of writer am I?

I wrestle with this topic in my own way, at some point, almost every day.

There is this quest as a philosopher. It is to truly understand and give a proper account of the world, without bias and misinformation. Lose all assumptions and open your mind to really get a fair look at the world, and not just with your eyes. Using your mind to make sense of it all, and then help others along the way.

But you see, there are many different types of philosophers, and this only describes one sort. So I see that we are all different in many ways, yet we are all the same in many others. How we respect and honor one another, it seems so easy and obvious. How do even the highest of moral beings make quick and irrational mistakes?

I want to be an informed and helpful writer. So I analyze every topic I would write about and rule out the prospect, the ideas I have, simply because I feel the inadequacy of properly labeling the “voice” I may have. There are styles, I don’t know what they are all called and I chose to learn more about science, than grammar. I may not be great at math, but I can spell flawlessly. (Most misspelled words you will read of mine, are because I need to trim my fingernails and my fingers keep slipping off the keys, lol right!) It seems as though writing is reserved for those who study English or History. Purpose and passion is where I come in. But where is the value? Maybe inspirational messages for tea companies…

There are these things about writing, the permanence of your word. Yet, the ability to edit and truly have what you really mean, out there, for the world to see. I love the editing process, but I only do quick edits for my own writing… I have to remind myself, the message is important but I need to always read with fresh eyes before publishing.

There are timelines, and timeliness, not the same. Well recorded events and current events, often with the most pressing messages necessary. But accuracy is the key- “How Urgency Can Provoke Misinformation”, a topic I will write about one day, as it is commonly accepted and sometimes correction is less obvious, so you end up with people with the wrong understanding. What happens when they quickly respond according to inaccurate information? We have a responsibility to be accurate. So dig a little deeper when researching something, especially something important.

I have to keep my writing brief and to the point. It’s all I have time for. As a person with a responsibility to my family, there are many tugs on my time. So I have to stop ruling out my ideas, and make time for the important ones.

Rainy Day Blues

It is one of those rainy days here, as I am sure it is in many other parts of the world. When you look outside and see cloudy skies, wet weather, and it is a little chilly, how does it affect your day?

Creativity is sparked in some.

Others enjoy a warm cup to drink and a quiet book.

Many curl up and hide… really.

I like to do stuff. I drive to places I keep meaning to go, and check them out. I hit my to-do list, and actually accomplish some of the items (like write on my blog.. hey hey double whammy… keep on reading and you will see what I mean!)

Refreshing as it is, getting things in your life and home ready for the winter takes extra effort. The enticement is certainly not the actions necessary, even though the completed projects are rewarding.

Today~ I repotted a sad plant. It was on clearance for $3 from a nearby home improvement store. I was worried about this plant. It wasn’t doing horribly, but didn’t look happy enough for an aesthetically motivated house plant buyer to want. I thought to myself, “I sure don’t have any dying house plants right now, maybe I should get one.”

The fate of this very pretty green and yellow leaved plant was not advancing well into the future, unless I did something about it. Whining kids in tow, I searched the soil for bugs, none seemed evident. None of the leaves have been chewed on or spotted, only yellowing and only from the center of clusters, making me think it was either over or under watered, and was outgrowing its current conditions.  I checked the roots, and sure enough, bound in a twist, thick, and suffocating.

So I did what any ordinary garden/plant geek would do, I bought it. The whole way home I thought about two things- it would be great if my 3 year old stopped kicking the seats, I’m trying to freakin drive; and my track record with house plants is terrible, why did I just get one that needed extra help? Balancing this questionable line of reasoning, I sucked it up to the facts- at a mere $3 it would be a great next victim.

This struggling plant sat on my porch for a day or two, just in case those bugs showed up, didn’t want a population to fester without consent. It did eventually come inside and sit on a shelf, with just enough light (according to the little tag). That was 3 weeks ago… Took a little longer to make room in the schedule I guess. It got threatened with being banished to the porch by my other half, if I didn’t repot the silly thing already.

Today I actually did it. I made a crock pot recipe (red beans and rice) for dinner, and after cleaning the kitchen from breakfast and the prep… I looked out side and said to the audience, “I’m finally ready to repot this plant, come on 3 year old, lets get our hands dirty!”

It took a whopping 10 minutes.

Once we repotted it, I did what every ordinary person does, I looked up the plant variety. Wait… I think I did it backward-  turns out it’s going to be OK. Apparently, it’s not toxic for dogs and kids so that’s a relief… that was my first investigation. If they eat the stem of the leaves it offers a significant burning sensation in their mouth, but other than that it is safe. Knowing that I decided to keep it above reach, don’t want the new puppy munching on the green stuff in between meals and getting funky, ya know what I mean?

So on this rainy and wet day I helped Mother Earth with similar efforts;  I helped something struggling to stay alive flourish and grow. My cup is full.

What can you do to make Mother Earth smile on a rainy day?

The only down side, I don’t think the plant and pot match very well… Like my mother would advise, use what you got. Hopefully, it will outgrow the pot and I can do this again sometime!

Spring has (not quite) arrived!

Browsing my own (few and far between) writings here, I notice how the seasons affect my perspective. I love all of them, and now I can laugh at myself for being so serious about it all. Of course, it’s spring for me so cheery and thriving, growing new things, bright and colorful. 

Love the cool weather, with the sun peeking out and keeping it warm enough to play all afternoon. Kids love it too! Energies are rising, and my eldest just arose so off I go!

“A Girl Like Me”

The sweet song of a 2 year old, as we brisk through the grocery store during the noon hour. As one woman visually scolds her competition walking past her in line- she smiles at the song, and then at me.
Open minded people are the cushion to breathe between one another. We make room for all with politeness and understanding. There’s no judgment.
If we assume the standard is the same for all- we could be causing tremendous pain for those actions we don’t accept. Our rejection is societies ail, and ale. It makes us ill.
So smile- and try your hardest to understand.

What I think about birth centres: an interview

Although this article doesn’t consider American birth centers, maybe we should have more?

SHEENA BYROM

Laura

Laura Iannuzzi is an Italian midwife, currently studying for a PhD at Nottingham University in England.  After qualifying as a midwife in 2001 Laura has worked in different areas of practice, and since 2004 Laura has been employed by the University Hospital of Careggi, latterly at the Margherita Birth Centre.  Laura’s research topic for her study is ‘An exploration of midwives’ approaches to slow progress of labour in English and Italian birth centres‘.

Laura emailed me and asked if she could interview me about my thoughts on birth centres-not for her study, but because she is interested in the relative success of birth centres in England. I agreed of course, as I usually interview others!

Dear Sheena, first of all thank you very much for your availability for this interview. As you know, this is for me a great pleasure and honour; you are indeed largely recognised as an inspirational…

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Disgust, horror, and Western Buddhism

Interesting notions, and insightful commentary follows.

Vividness

Let us turn now, O sisters and brothers, to the Satipatthana Sutta, I:1:6:

If a monk sees a corpse dead one, two, or three days—swollen, blue and festering—he should think: “My own body is of the same nature; such it will become, and will not escape it.”

His mindfulness is established, and he lives detached, and clings to nothing in the world.

And if a monk sees a corpse thrown in the charnel ground, being eaten by crows, hawks, vultures, dogs, jackals or by different kinds of worms—

Or a body reduced to a skeleton, with some flesh and blood attached to it, held together by the tendons—

Or a skeleton, blood-besmeared and without flesh—

Or reduced to disconnected bones, scattered in all directions—here a hand bone, there a foot bone, a shin bone, a thigh bone; the pelvis, spine and skull—

He should apply this perception to his…

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Please Help Me Correctly Direct My Hostility About This Jeffco AP U.S. History Kerfuffle

A little Q and can request for A from a good friend near JeffCo.

WhoAskedUs?

You guys. I think I need some help here on deciding who I should be pissed off at during this whole bangarang. Or maybe I just need to understand what I am missing so that I can more accurately judge the people around me who are all up in arms about this.

In trying to wrap my head around what the crux is of the argument on the APUSH (Advanced Placement US History) curriculum change that is prompting all the sick-outs and walk –outs in Jefferson County. I know it’s silly and antiquated, but as usual, I’ve gone and done some research before forming an opinion. And I am befuddled.

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