I'm thanking my lucky stars.

Some of us are lucky. Some aren't. Much of life, it seems to me, is a matter of luck. Being in the right place at the right time. Maybe we make our own luck. But not always. Luck can just fall out of the sky. The circumstances in which we are born may be a matter of luck. And our genes. Some of us have good genes. Others, not so good. We all have a combination of good luck and bad luck. But some of us have far more good luck than bad luck. I generally consider myself a lucky guy. Especially when it comes to love connections. In that regard, I've been blessed. Not once. But twice. I've had some bad luck, too. But I accept it. Because none of it has been tragic. Albeit, I have lost loved ones. But that's to be expected. Especially if one is lucky enough to live to a ripe old age. Anyway, I'm thanking my lucky stars. --Jim Broede

I'll walk & think as I please.

I think religion is wishful thinking. And that wishful thinking is good. I consider myself a wishful thinker. But not particularly religious. I'm more spiritual than religious. I was brought up as a Christian. But I'm not a Christian. Because I'm too independent to be a Christian or for that matter to be a member of any organized religion. I'm a free spirit, of sorts. A free-thinker. I believe in the concept of god. But I can't fully define god. God is moreorless an abstract thought. A wishful thought. I believe in an afterlife. Because I want to believe. I wish to believe. Because I am a romantic. And that's the romantic thing to do. I certainly believe in love. And maybe that's what god is. Pure love. Unconditional love. So in addition to being a free-thinker, I'm trying to be a lover. I think that would please the god of love. Meanwhile, I'm leery of organized religions because they have too many members. Professing pretty much the same credo. As if mankind must be turned into robots. Everybody thinking the same thing. Having the exact same wishes. No, that's alien to me. I find that hard to accept. I don't like to walk in lockstep. I'll walk as I please. Or not walk at all. --Jim Broede

Spirits can choose to be free.

I'm assuming our spirits leave our bodies the moment we experience physical death. In other words, we no longer are physical beings. We die physically. But not spiritually. Because the spirit is indestructible. Or maybe not. Maybe one can choose to obliterate one's spirit. And go into nothingness. But the body is only a vessel that contains our spirit. Our soul, so to speak. I assume that loved ones' spirits/souls are now cavorting with each other. In a timeless dimension. And that they are far more happier than we physical beings. Because they are free of their physical restraints. Free as free can be. Now I think this is a very romantic concept. But I also think it is quite Catholic/Protestant/religious. Of course, I'm not a member of an organized religious faith. Because they generally don't know what they believe. That's why members of organized religions, for instance, need an edict from a pope or a cardinal or a bishop or a scholar to tell them what to believe. Some modern day religious fanatics are incapable of thinking for themselves. Because they think that would be sinful. That god doesn't want anyone to think for themselves. Which I think is preposterous. But to each his/her own. Anyway, there's no reason to get upset if the empty corpses of one's loved ones are not in direct physical contact with each other. Because they are mere empty containers. Wouldn't make any difference if their dead bodies were 10,000 miles apart. Or turned to ashes or dust. Because their spirits are together. Yes, resurrected. Or so I presume. Because spirits are free to move about. Not only in proximity of Mother Earth. But anywhere in the cosmos. In the entirety of creation. They may even be cavorting with each other in another galaxy. In true Paradise. Yes, we are free to believe what we want to believe. Because inside our sometimes beautuful and voluptuous carcasses we have a free spirit. That is, if we allow it to be free. --Jim Broede

Maybe ignorance is bliss.

I like being intimate. In a sense, intimacy sets me free. Intimacy is a form of honesty. One goes naked. One doesn't hide one's feelings. I'm trying to practice honesty. I don't know if I always succeed. In fact, I don't. Because maybe I don't even know what honesty/intimacy is. I'm more an explorer. Not even knowing what I'm looking for. Sometimes, I'm surprised. By what I see. What I find. And I don't even understand what it is. I won't ever fully figure things out. It'd be nice if I always knew right from wrong. But I'm never gonna fully fathom the wonders of life. And love. And maybe that's just as well. Could be that ignorance is bliss. --Jim Broede

I'm a master problem solver.

I like being a problem solver. Coming to the aid of friends. To solve problems. Often, all it takes are some positive suggestions. A listing of possible options for dealing with a problem. Somtimes, I just have to be a good listener. And that allows people to solve their own problems. By just talking things out. To a friend. I also have offered to throw a pity party for a friend. Normally, I don't do that. Because I'm generally opposed to pity. But for a special friend, I'll make an exception. Really, I gotta do almost anything for a very special friend. That's what real friends do, isn't it? Almost anything. In an act of friendship and love. As for problems, I'm of the mind that virtually all problems have solutions. It just takes a little thinking and a little searching to find one. I may hang up a shingle outside my door. Proclaiming that I'm a master problem solver. --Jim Broede

Bring back the Pony Express.

So, you think the U.S. Postal Service is bad. Could be. But the U.S. does a darn good job compared to the gawd-awful Italians. The old American pony express did better than the Italians. I wanted to get a special letter containing a gift check to my girlfriend in Italy. By a particular date. Five days hence. So I went to my post office in Minnesota. Mailed the letter special delivery. With guaranteed delivery in 3 to 5 days. Paid postage totalling $28.95. It was posted Oct. 8. Today is Oct. 16. We're still waiting for delivery. The letter arrived in Italy Oct. 13, on the fifth day. And the U.S. postal authorities told me that's all they guaranteed. Arrival in Italy within 5 days. Then it's up to the Italians to deliver the letter. To the addressee. And that may take forever and a day. Because Italians take their good-natured time. They have a bureaucratic set up. My letter is being processed through customs. Albeit, it's only a letter. And it is moving at slower than a snail's pace. Somewhere in Milan. When it needs to end up on the island of Sardinia. And then it will be dispatched to a private courier. For delivery gawd knows when. And since it's special delivery, my girlfriend has to sign for it. So if she's not home, the letter may be stored away in some private courier archive. Never to be seen again. Of course, I'm in daily touch with my girlfriend. By audio-video connection. On Skype. Through the Internet. But I'm a romantic. I wanted something delivered the old-fashioned way. By postal mail. Oh, I wish we still had the pony express. Those were the good old days. When guaranteed delivery meant something. --Jim Broede

Helps to stir sweet dreams.

When something bothers or upsets me, I generally try to focus on something else. Something more pleasant. That's why I go out and exercise. Gets my mind off my troubled mind. And onto my physical being. Exercise relaxes my body. And a relaxed body tends to relax the mind. Works for me. Almost every time. Like a charm. Another thing that works. I remind myself that I'm in a loving relationship. That's usually my last thought before I fall asleep at night. Helps to stir sweet dreams. --Jim Broede