A state of silent confusion.

I have a particular friend who gives me the silent treatment. Mostly, I suspect, because she's annoyed. With me. Maybe even angry. Chances are, she doesn't know for sure. She's in a state of limbo when it comes to friendship. Still trying to define the meaning of friendship. She lives in North Carolina. Actually, I call it the state of confusion. Wherever she lives, it would be the state of confusion. She could even live in Timbuktu. She'd still be confused. Eternally confused. I try to make her less confused. By getting her to think in a sensible manner. So she has clarity in life. But maybe she can't accept clarity. Maybe that's what makes her confused. She becomes scared by clarity. By reality. So she dumbs herself down. Into a state of silent confusion. --Jim Broede

Can you always tell?

Hey, I'm kidding. At least some of the time. Maybe a whole lot some days. Because it's difficult taking life too seriously. One needs a break. To see the funny side. To laugh. To poke fun. At one's self. And at others, too. Most days, I'm probably kidding half the time. Chances are that if I seem angry, I'm joking. Because I'm finding it almost impossible to be genuinely angry. It goes against my new-found nature/grain. Of being in love. With life. But still, I like to practice being angry. So I feign it. Fake it. I'm an actor on a stage. I'm fully capable of pretending anger. Just for the heck of it. Helps me understand people that are really angry. By playing the role. I've learned to poke fun at angry people. In an attempt to make 'em laugh. For them to see the futility of becoming angry. It's self-defeating. I demonstrate. By becoming a playful idiot. Consumed by anger. But I fully know that in doing all this, I'm really a genius. No, I'm not kidding. But then again, maybe I am pulling your leg. Can you always tell? --Jim Broede

I can walk on water.

My Italian true love is trying to teach me how to float on my back. It's a feat I have yet to master. I tend to sink. Like a rock. She thinks it's funny. And incredible. That I can't always master the most simple tasks. But I tell her I'd rather achieve the most difficult assignments. Such as walking on water. That, I can do. But she doesn't believe me. I don't do it in front of her. Because I'm trying to be humble. And not be a show off. Besides, she probably wouldn't believe her eyes. Because she's a Doubting Thomas. But every day, I walk on water. I practice. When people aren't looking. And I've succeeded. Walking clear across Forest lake, a distance of around a mile. Doing it under cover of darkness. Some people assume I'm joking. Kidding. But I'm telling the truth. With a straight face. Lunatic fringe Republicans do the same thing -- insist that they are telling the political truth. Daily. I accuse them of telling bold-faced lies. But they swear it's the truth. The gospel truth. The same goes for me. It's the truth. I can walk on water. --Jim Broede

More time to truly live.

Just thinking tonight, that I've been retired for 14 years. Since I was 62. My gawd. Retirement brought about a big change in my life. Less pressure. Maybe that's when I truly started taking life one day at a time. That's the nicest thing about retirement. Being better able to do what one really wants to do. Not being committed to showing up at work on a daily basis. A new kind of freedom. So very many people don't live long enough to retire. That's a shame. And others that retire, don't know what to do with their new-found time, their new-found freedom. Work can be rewarding and fulfilling. But it obligates one in a way that restricts freedom. I have to satisfy an employer. Do sort of what's expected of me. Now I'm my own boss. And I have more time to think in meaningful ways. Enjoyable ways. More time for love. More time to create myself. More time to cultivate a loving relationship. More time to truly live. --Jim

Gawd ain't fussy about grammer.

Really doesn't matter how one spells god. I like to vary the spelling. Depending on my mood. I'm a romantic idealist. And I have a vivid imagination. I'm able to imagine residing in Paradise. And Paradisians have an accent. Sort of a drawl. And they pronounce what sounds like gawd. So I often spell it phonetically. To sound like a true Paradisian. When I'm in Germany, I say gott and when I'm in Sweden I say gud and when I'm in France I say dieu and when I'm in Italy I say dio and when I converse with my Hindu friends I say khooda. And I've consulted directly with gawd. And he doesn't mind how his name is spelled or pronounced. And he doesn't object to a lower case 'g.' He ain't fussy. About grammer or spelling. By the way, gawd and I communicate mostly by spiritual thought rather than the spoken or written word. --Jim Broede

Let love percolate.

One should take love one day at a time. Savor it. Not by demanding or wishing for more. But by appreciating what one's got. Genuine love. If one feels love, that should be sufficient. Allow the love to evolve naturally. When one wishes for more, when one rushes it, one gets ahead of one's self. Yes, take it slowly. That's paramount. It's like having a feast. Don't gorge one's self. Eat slowly. An appetizer. A sip of wine. One can feast on a morsel. There's no hurry. Life and love were meant to proceed slowly. Make it all last. One has forever. Essentially, the rest of one's life. Love must be undemanding. Even when lovers aren't together, love can be savored. From a distance. Love is a state of mind. A relaxed and pleasant state of mind. A little bit of love is a whole lot of love. Don't be like a millionaire who can't settle for a million. Instead, he/she needs $2 million. And then $3 million. Never enough. If it's true love, a little bit is a fortune. Makes one feel blessed. When one is genuinely in love, even being apart can seem like being together. When lovers are in love, they are always together. In spirit. Physical love is wonderful. But spiritual love is even better. Let love percolate. --Jim Broede

About love.

Angry people aren't in love. Because if they were in love, they wouldn't have time to be angry. Their focus would be on love. Love of life. Or a loving relationship. Show me someone who's vehemently angry, and I'll show you someone out of love. For instance, the angry people on the steps of the Supreme Court in Washington the other day. Angry over the court's decision to uphold the constitutional legitmacy of Obamacare. Some of 'em were furious. Pissed. Vowing to make trouble for Chief Justice John Roberts. Calling him a traitor. Because he doesn't see life and law the same way as they. Yes, they are a hateful bunch. Unable to see life much beyond their own noses. So very limited. They have no time for love. Sad. Sad. Sad. That's the nature of American polictic these days. No room for compromise. Only for hate. And anger. All because politic ain't going their way. If they were truly in love, they'd be at the seaside. Or walking in the primeval forest. Enjoying nature. And friendship. Maybe reading or writing a poem. About love. --Jim Broede