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An Overdue Walk in the Park

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It’s been a few weeks, but I wanted to share some scenes and reflection from my return to an oft visited place, Monocacy Park. I hadn’t been there all summer due to many time and energy constraints as my family has been dealing with ongoing issues with my sister’s health, my elderly mother dealing with that and her own issues, and even some unexpected health issues of my own that have come up in the last couple months. I stopped for walks twice in one week, and maybe one other time, but now the busyness is encroaching again. I shall prevail, though. Making time for things you enjoy is a priority.

I’ve learned that you can only do so much for others and you have to take care of yourself. If a person doesn’t make much effort themselves to improve their own situation, you can’t make things happen for them. Certainly, you do what you can, but it’s up to them to meet you half way.

I’ve also been reminded of something I already knew. that our reactions to things are just as important, or even more important that the actual events happening. That’s the part we can control. Life happens and things keep rolling along. Time never stands still. So, you have to decide how you’re going to react and deal with things. I’m thankful that I have my dad’s steady, calm presence. (I’ve been told that- that I have a calming presence.) It was a theme in all the remarks at his funeral service that, while he was a quiet, unassuming person, he was always there. I’m still reminded when I think of him to keep striving to stay centered, and to get back to your center when life sends those curve balls.

So, do those things that help you process things and stay centered, or return to center, whether it’s taking a walk, making time to read, exercise, journaling or whatever. I hope these photos can help bring a moment of peace in your day.

Time always flies

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Seems like time always flies, not just when you’re having fun. I mean, sure, there’s the clock watching hours at work some days when you count the minutes until quitting time, but overall, it just seems that time marches relentlessly on and there’s always more to be done, things to see to, and less leisure time the older you get. Or is that just me? I was off work all week recuperating from surgery. The procedure was last Wednesday so I had part of last week off too. Of course, I was not able to do much the first several days but rest and sleep, which was nice, but I thought a week would feel like so much time and I’d do all this writing and sort old pictures and catch up with people but none of that happened. Of course, one whole day was spent tending to a medical issue stemming from the surgery and I have a follow up appointment today.

I do still have a few more days off next week and only partial days when I first go back to work so there’s a little more time. Maybe I was unrealistic in thinking recuperation time would be a time to accomplish anything. I suppose we all set ourselves up for disappointment at times with unrealistic expectations. I definitely did rest more and got more sleep than I have in ages and that’s important. So, maybe I should be satisfied with that. I wrote a long time in my journal yesterday and have enjoyed having a morning devotional time which I normally don’t have time for. (I do a shorter devotion time after work on weekdays. 5:30 is early enough to get up.)

I guess my Anglo Saxon Protestant upbringing has me putting less value on the R&R time I’ve had; watching TV, social media and reading are not wasting time. Rest is exactly what I was supposed to be doing. Of course, the issue I was having and a family matter going on at the exact same time made it feel less restful. I’m sure that’s a big part of it too.

My introvert side has enjoyed the time at home alone, just me and the cats. Quiet reflection can be restoring and more productive than one realizes sometimes.

Maybe this can be one of those times I wrote about at the beginning of the year, to use as a renewal point. The procedure fixed what it was supposed to so far. So that will be something I don’t have to deal with anymore. And I think it will feel good to get back to a normal routine when I do. And it’s time for Spring! The time changes this weekend here in PA and the colors of nature should be popping out all over soon. Spring is the biggest renewal of all! It’s God’s reminder of eternal life with Him and the unmovable foundation of good that always prevails over evil.

So, maybe the key here is to not focus so much on time as a measure of what’s done or not, but just enjoy the ride and float along the current of time rather than trying to swim against it.

May peace find you and stick with you. Till next time…

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Lifelong target

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I wrote about some childhood bullying incidents on this blog back in 2018 in the following post:

How I met my bully | Sophisticated Neanderthal

I’ve been dealing with relentless harassment from a bunch of simpletons around me for the last ten years. Actually much longer but the most intense has been since I started my current job eleven years ago and even moreso since October 2019 when I had a strange experience involving missing time at an Oktoberfest event near my home.

I still have those same feelings of just wanting to be left alone. I’m just trying to live my life. Why can’t they do the same? Just live and let live. I am a lover of peace and an encourager. Why should I have to deal with constant hostility and harmful intentions and actions? I remember those childhood feelings of not wanting to deal with bullies. But deal with it I must because they never stop. I’ve come to learn that the insidious, relentless form of harassment I’ve been subjected to for the last eleven years is called gangstalking. I’ll be writing much more about that, but now I want to add a detail that I didn’t yet realize was significant the last time I wrote about it.

I remember the day on my paper route when the bully pushed me into a snowbank. He finally gave up for that day when that still didn’t elecit a fist fight with him and he sarted walking away. It happened on Market Street in Bangor between 3rd and 4th Streets. My route took me out Third St. and the site of the occurrence was near Bangor Elementary Center on Fourth St., where I attended grade shool a couple years earlier. I can still picture as I got back on my feet and was putting my brown knit hat with white stripes back on after brushing the snow off it, that I spotted the old windowless beige van driven by my 6th grade English teacher. Bangor is a small town and I knew it was her vehicle. A couple friends and I knew what many of the teachers drove. We paid attention to cars.

The thing that struck me as I recalled that scene recently was that the teacher, now deceased, bore the same last name as one of the main ringleaders of the ongoing harassment against me. I saw her sitting at a stop sign on the next street up and looking toward me and the scene that had just unfolded. She didn’t turn down the hill and come my way. I thought she might come to see if everything was alright, but she just went on up the hill. I remember feeling relieved because I was embarassed to have been seen “losing” the struggle with the bully. I felt wimpy. You would think she would’ve been concerned and checked on me, but oddly did not. Only recently I thought, for the first time, about the fact that she bore the same last name as the current ringleader of harassment against me. It wasn’t the first time I thought this stuff started at childhood, but it was the first I thought about the name connection.

Then I thought about how she was a closeted Lesbian (she had a semi secret affair with the female gym teacher and had bipolar or some kind of mental health diagnosis. I previously figured that part out when reflecting on how she was telling the class how all the women in her family were witches and their abilities were only passed down through the women. She had an extended absence right after that day. She must have been off her meds and had to take a medical leave to get inpatient treatment. I don’t know that, but it seems like a good guess. The chief bully gangstalker is also Lesbian and mentally not well. A former friend who’s also involved is also gay and bipolar. And his mom bears a resemblance to my old teacher. Things that make you go hmmm!

Back to the snowbank, I wonder what would have happened if I had taken the bait of the antagonizing bully and threw a punch with the teacher looking on? I think she would have claimed that she didn’t see him do anything but that she only saw me hitting him. Then they would’ve sent me to a juvenile delinquent center or something. Who knows what might have happened there? Were they trying to corrupt me by exposing me to other rough kids and/or abusive staff, or was someone at the juvenile center intended to molest or assault me?

Fortunately, I stayed away from that fight and any other trouble my whole life, following the good example of my parents. I’m thankful I came from a good family and had good people around me through friends of the family and my church. No bullies or troublemakers were ever able to shake me. I miss my dad but I thank God for his quiet strength and steadfast faith and love of the people around him and living a good and simple life. It’s our family legacy and no one is going to take that away.

One thing is for sure, this target is done being bullied. 54 years is enough! The gangstalker creeps will be exposed. They shrink from the light of day. I am a lover of light. They slink around like cowards. I am honest and straightforward.