Monthly Archives: August 2017

Socializing, Solitude and Donald Trump

I have socialized a lot lately.  I find it difficult to socialize and write.  Writing requires solitude, and you don’t get much solitude while socializing.

President Donald Trump has been at every social event I have attended.  Not physically, but in spirit.  That’s all people talked about: Donald Trump this and Donald Trump that.

There was one man named Adam, at one of the events, who vocalized my thoughts on Donald Trump.  Adam said,  “Can’t you people see that it’s all theater meant to distract us?  Media coverage on Trump is over the top.  You have to ask yourself. ‘What are they trying to distract us from?  What don’t they want us to think about or see?'”

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A Sign

I follow my Inner Guidance.  My Inner Guidance doesn’t always guide me to do things that make sense, but it is always right in the end.  No matter how many signs I receive from the Universe that my Inner Guidance is right, I still have doubt—especially when I am being guided to do something that does not make sense.

Recently I decided to ask the Universe for a sign that I am on the right path.  I requested this and then walked in a ravine hoping some miraculous sign would appear.  The sign could appear in the sky, or perhaps an angel could appear on my path saying, “Gary, you’re on the right path and doing the right stuff.”   As I walked, I often said out loud, “Please, Universe, give me a sign.  Please, Universe, give me a sign.”

And lo and behold, there it was right on my path!  The Universe gave me a sign!  It wasn’t what I was expecting, but it was a sign.  It was an old, rusted sign on the ground saying, “No Trespassing.”

Payback Time

On Tuesday, a non-Asian man stared at me in the shower at the YMCA.  He wore black-framed glasses.  I could see him with a pen pouch full of pens in his shirt pocket, and not dressed in the latest style.  In other words, he looked like a geek.

He just stood and stared while the shower water bounced off his back.  He never washed or moved.  He had lust in his eyes.  I tried to enjoy my shower, but found his staring disturbing.  I did my best to ignore him, finished my shower, and left with him still standing and staring.

On Wednesday, an Asian man stared at me in the shower.  He was not wearing glasses.  Unlike Tuesday’s geek, this man moved and showered.  At times his head faced me while the front of his body faced the wall.  Once again, I found it disturbing the way he kept staring at me.  He, too, stayed in the shower after I finished.

Today, an Asian man wearing black-framed glasses stared at me.  He, too, moved while showering.  At times his head turned 180 degrees to keep me in his gaze.

This is payback for all the times I made women feel uncomfortable by gawking at them.  I now understand how uncomfortable they felt.

I promise never to stare at another woman again—at least not long stares.  Perhaps just a few polite quick gawks so the women don’t feel uncomfortable.

In the meantime, I will endure my fate giving thanks that all the men do is stare at me, and don’t do anything else.

 

Back To School

 

Every year I go back-to-school shopping.  I’m not at school, but I like to buy paper, pens, pencils and other writing supplies and more paper, pens, pencils and other writing supplies. I must make sure that I never run out of paper, pens, pencils and other writing supplies.

Imagine that I am writing up a storm.  The words are just pouring out of me.  I’m in the flow.  I can’t let go.  And then suddenly I run out of paper, pens, pencils and other writing supplies. What a tragedy!  My work of genius lost because I ran out of paper, pens, pencils and other writing supplies. This will never happen because make sure I have backup supplies for my backup supplies for my backup supplies for my backup supplies, and then some.

Do you think that if I didn’t spend so much time buying paper, pens, pencils and other writing supplies, I would find more time to write?

Going Down The Stairs

There are over 100 steps to the various workout floors at the YMCA.  One of the activities for the children’s program is to have the children go up and down the stairs several times.

While on my way to a workout level, I passed two seven-year-old boys huffing and puffing on their second trip up the stairs.  One boy said to the other, “Gosh, going down the stairs is a lot easier than going up the stairs.”

What insight!  Experience is a great teacher.

The boy was only 7 years old.  His whole life is ahead of him.  How many symbolic stairs will he have to climb during his lifetime?  Will he ever discover that it is not what happens to him that affects him, but how he views what happens to him?  Will he learn that with the proper attitude, going up these stairs does not have to be difficult?

 

Don’t Talk To Me, Please?

I like to be left alone.  I do not want to talk to anyone.  If I am left alone, I can spend time inside my head.  I can’t stay inside my head if people talk to me.

Today at the YMCA, old man after old man approached me trying to start a conversation.  This happened in the dressing room, workout areas and shower.  I politely dodged having conversations with them.

I was dressed and gathering up my stuff to leave when a man came in and started to use a locker near me.  He saw the bunch of bananas I had. (I like to eat bananas after I work out.)  He approached me while he was undressing.

“I have a song I like to sing to kids about bananas,” he said.

He started singing I Like Bananas Because They Have No Bones while he was still getting undressed.  And then he was naked and hadn’t finished the song!  I wanted to shout, “Beam me up, Scotty!”

It was bad enough that I had a naked man singing me a song, but then he started to scratch himself you know where.  He was singing and scratching at the same time!  Is that talent or what?

I was polite and waited for him to finish the song.  And then I got the hell out of there!