Coping. My way.

I know how to cope. With life. By blending the real world with my fantasy/dream world. I make dreams come true. By believing in my pursuits. As a romantic idealist, a spiritual free-thinker, a political liberal, a lover, a dreamer. So simple. When necessary, I suppress the reality of the political, economic and social realms. By creating my own sheltered environs. A cocoon, so to speak. It works. By helping me imagine my own reality. I recommend a similar approach. For anyone having trouble coping with the real world. Yes. Yes. Create your own magical and novel world. And learn to live in it. Set your own rules. After all, it’s your domain. That’s the way true creators do it. They create. Whatever it takes. To achieve a happy and fulfilling life. I do it all the time. --Jim Broede

Asking for far too much.

I want too much out of life. And when I don’t get it, I’m disappointed. Even over little and inconsequential stuff. Maybe it’s that I am spoiled. I have too much already. I haven’t learned to settle for less. Instead, I want a world with everything fitting neatly into place. Dictated by my standards, my criteria, my beck and call.  Politically, socially, economically. Every which way. I even want the Cubs to win baseball games. On my command. In order that I feel good. Doesn’t matter if fans of the other team feel bad. Yes. Yes. I’m not only spoiled. But selfish, too. Of course, I recognize that a world concocted  by my grand design would end up being a horror show. Really, I prefer love stories. With happy endings. But I know, that’s asking for far too much. --Jim Broede

To be embraced. Joyfully.

Strange, isn’t it? I’m not religious.  Yet I believe in a spiritual afterlife. For everyone. Makes me a positive-thinking optimist. A believer in spirituality. Yes, life can be spiritual. Without having religious links or connotations. Life is life. And life comes with a spiritual element/strain. True life has a s spiritual depth to it.  Not physical. A spiritual soul. Takes time getting used to it. Some don’t. Until they fully escape the physical realm. Presto. Alas, the spirit is free. No more physical restraints. No more dementia. No more physical albatrosses. Hampering one’s movements and one’s mind. Yes, that’s the way I see true life. Life that goes beyond religion. Ultimately, we all become aware of our spirits. The spirit is there. Living inside us. Right now. There to be embraced. Joyfully. --Jim Broede

Living the part.

Occasionally, I’m accused of faking my happiness. There may be something to it. Because if I pretend to be happy, like an actor, I’m good at it.  So good, that I start feeling genuinely happy. I live the part that I’m playing. --Jim Broede

Best to not know it all.

I’m feeling my way through life.  Trying to learn something new. Every day. One of the nicest things about life is knowing very little. Which leaves a whole lot to discover. It would be very discomforting if one knew it all. I doubt that the creator knows it all. And doesn’t want to. --Jim Broede

A simple cure for Alzheimer's.

I’m convinced. Beyond a doubt. That Alzheimer’s is strictly a physical malady. With absolutely no connection to one’s spirit. Therefore, when the spirit breaks free of physical containment.  Presto. Like magic.  One’s dementia is left behind. Discarded. Gone forever. No more physical woes and discomforts. That’s the way it’s been. For almost 10 years now. For my dear and blessed Jeanne. Because she lives and thrives. In the spiritual realm.  With a clear and unencumbered mind. Little wonder. That I never had valid reason to grieve for Jeanne. She has the best of life. Yes. Yes. I believe in the spirit. --Jim Broede

A strange thank you.

Here’s a thought. About life. I’m retired. Have been. For 20 years. Hey, that’s a quarter of my life. I like being retired. Gives me lots of freedom. In determining the way I live. For one thing. I don’t have to report for work anymore. I live by my own flexible schedule. I’m my own boss. I used to ‘work’ for a living. But it really wasn’t work.  It was mostly pleasure. I continue to write daily. Seldom miss a day. Like always, I write for pleasure. Not for monetary reasons. I write about anything that comes to mind. Such as now. I write my own way. At may own pace. No hurry. No deadline. But still, I write more than when I was employed. That makes sense. After all, I want retirement to be pleasurable. Another thing. I sleep. When I want to. Usually, when I’m tired. I can stay awake all day. When I’m enjoying myself. Sometimes, I wake at 3 in the morning. With a joyful thought. I go to the computer, and jot it down. But I’m also capable of writing sad thoughts. And critiques about almost any and everything. That may offend some people. But that’s life. One can't please everyone. Sure, I may be wrong. About lots of things. When I am knowingly wrong, I admit it. I apologize. If necessary. Thing is. It doesn’t always bother me if I’m wrong. It makes me feel good being on the wrong side of some issues. Especially political. Yes, sometimes the perceived ‘wrong' side of an issue is the right side to be on. If I’m called a maverick or a rebel or downright eccentric – well then, thank you for the compliment. --Jim Broede

I almost forgot.

When injured (with a pulled hamstring). It’s paramount. That I experiment. With my mind and body. To determine what I am capable of doing. And then do it. Rather than taking time off. And doing nothing other than bed rest. Some well-wishers would encourage me to do less and less. Rather than more and more. I often ignore their advice.  Better to follow a regimen of relatively safe activity. Avoiding a complete shutdown. Yes. Yes. Better to remain on the go. In accord with my true nature. For instance, I am now on bent and cushioned knee. At my computer. Writing this. Yes, I am in an awkward position. But it’s manageable and pain-free. More workable than if I were painfully seated in my chair. I have improvised. In order to get by. And to remain functional. Yes. I do what I need do. One way or another. Yesterday, I wandered casually. In the yard. Picking up stuff.  And putting away the tools of summer gardening. I walked, too, to visit and socialize with neighbors. Now I have taken a break from writing. To walk about the house. To loosen up.  To practice my own form of tai chi. Later today, I will consider driving into town. To stock up on provisions. For a nice evening of relaxing activity. At the moment, I’m listening to Boccherini string trios. Before  going to bed for the night, I’ll remind myself, that I have a pulled hamstring. I almost forgot. --Jim Broede 

True believers

It helps. To continue to believe in fairy tales. The ones my mother read to me. And to believe in one key and crucial element of what was taught to me. In Sunday School, of all places. About living happily ever after. As for me, I’m not religious.  But that doesn’t stop me from believing in the spiritual afterlife. Simply, because I want to. In my pursuit of happiness. Yes. Yes. I am a true believer in the future. Even if it sounds like a fairy tale. Odd, isn’t it? That some unhappy professed true believers. That I know quite well. Seem to have forgotten what it means to be true believers. --Jim Broede

Ow! Ow!! Ow!!!

I’ve taken a week off. More or less. From my usual routine. I’m learning to live. With a painful hamstring. Not the result of walking too much. But most likely from hauling stuff from my attic. Thereby requiring more than the usual trips up and down a ladder. With armfuls of heavy clutter. Maybe in my younger days I could have handled it all with aplomb.  And no injury. No pain. Like a prancing gazelle. Now I'm told it’ll take 6 to 8 weeks. To heal. Completely. And properly. Strange thing. It’s less painful. Walking. Slowly. Gingerly. Rather than seated at my computer. Writing. While enduring. Muscle spasms. Known as Charlie horses. Ow! Ow!! Ow!!! --Jim Broede

Best to know no bounds.

I like living alone. And with people, too. Back and forth. I need space. But I also need people. To bring balance into my life. In other words, I could live as a recluse. In a desert. Or on a mountain top. But I could adapt to urban living. Amidst a crowd.  And numerous social contacts. Maybe that means I want a little bit of everything. In my approach to life. Best to know no bounds. --Jim Broede

Downright joyful, in fact.

I’m happy, in part, because I frequently ask myself, ‘Am I happy?’ And almost always, the easy and truthful answer is, ‘Of course, I am.’ Even when I’m unhappy, I’m happy about being unhappy. I remind myself that I have a right and a moral obligation to be unhappy. Over some of the ways of the world. Over the acts of certain people, especially politicians. Yes, I’m happy because I’m doing the right thing. Standing up. For my beliefs. I don’t mind being contrary. Actually, that makes me very, very happy. Downright joyful, in fact. --Jim Broede

Believing.

I want to believe. That any and everything is possible. As long as I can imagine it. For instance, I can easily imagine. Riding a light beam. With sheer and smooth delight. At the fantastic speed  of light (186,000 miles per second). Of course, I’d hitch the ride. Only after transforming into a body-less spirit. I’d still have a thinking, conscious mind. I’d still be able to see and hear everything going on around me.  Much the same as now.  But a physical brain wouldn’t be required. I’d be in sort of a virtual reality dream state.  That would allow me to travel. To any place I’d want to be in the vast infinite cosmos. To other planets. To other galaxies. To perhaps wherever the creator resides.--Jim Broede

From a unique perspective.

I can’t help. But think of myself as unique. Even though I am no more than a grain of sand. On an  immense beach. And why am I unique? Because I am a specific grain of sand. Able to think thoughts. And able to relate to other specific grains of sand. To the point of falling in love. Sure, I become easily lost on my beach. I’ll never navigate the entire beach. But I keep speculating. What’s beyond the next sand dune.  And though I’ve never been to the top of a dune. I can imagine. What it must be like. To view life from a unique and lofty perspective. --Jim Broede

Incredible, indeed.

I exist. I am real. Conscious, too. Nothing else matters. Because I feel alive. In a cosmos that makes me significant and insignificant. All at the same time. I am blessed. Knowing beyond a doubt. That I am a speck. In a gigantic cosmos. With an infinite number of life forms. A clutter, so to speak. And though I am only a grain of sand. I am privileged. By knowing. That I exist consciously. Able to grasp and savor the impossible. By feeling alive and in love. Incredible, indeed. --Jim Broede

A proper breakfast.

A  breakfast. At 4 in the morning. Cereal, topped with sliced banana and peach. A hefty piece of bread pudding.  A waffle. With maple syrup. A cup of cappuccino, too. Yes, I know how to start the day.  In a proper way. --Jim Broede

Only then.

Two people. Daring. To be themselves. With each other. Acceptance. Verging on the unconditional. That’s the way true love should be. I’ve tasted it. Twice. In my lifetime. Perhaps. That experience. Is life’s greatest blessing. What more can one ask for? I call it. A genuine spiritual merging. Of two human souls.  Yes. Yes. That is the purpose of being. Only then. Has one truly lived.  --Jim Broede

In my grand scheme.

I don’t remember people for the way they died. But rather. For the way they lived.  Death is a negative creation of the human imagination. Coming by. A heart attack. A stroke. Cancer. Alzheimer’s, too. Doesn’t really matter. After all, in my grand scheme. Death is merely a transition. To a new form of vibrant and teeming life. A joyful spiritual life. Void of sickness and death. --Jim Broede