Dealing with people in loving ways

Dealing with people. Maybe that’s the most difficult part of living. I’d not like to think so. Because I purport to be in love with life. And I have to deal with people. Presumably in loving ways. But it doesn’t always work out that way.  I irritate some people. And some people irritate me. Doesn’t sound much like love. If I truly loved all aspects of life, I wouldn’t ever have to retreat to my cocoon. Where I often try to shut out other people and the rest of the world. I covet solitude. In fact, I’m in love with solitude. Gives me the opportunity to buoy my spirits. To revitalize. To venture out into the wide open world again. And deal with people. In truly loving ways. That’s one of my many missions in life. –Jim Broede

Is there a foolproof test of love?

I have my Italian true love. She’s my salvation. Because I love her. No hate what so ever. Unconditional love. She could do wrong, and I’d still love her. She doesn’t have to abide by my wishes. Just be herself. Doesn’t have to change. Maybe I can’t absolutely say that about anyone else. Maybe that’s the definition of love. Total acceptance of another human being. When that happens, one reaches heaven on Earth. Nirvana. Paradise. Valhalla. All it takes is complete love. Not necessarily of all humanity. Just one other. Of course, love could be an illusion. Maybe there is no such thing as complete and pure and unconditional love.  I wonder. Is there a foolproof test of love? Maybe I’ve never been put to the test. –Jim Broede

No love. Only hate.

I try not to be hateful toward politicians. But really, it’s difficult. Mainly because they hate each other. Therefore, they deal with each other in hateful ways. Doesn’t matter whether I’m in America or Italy. They are all hateful. All over the world. Pick a country at random. Syria. Israel. Palestine. Seldom do politicians of rival parties treat each other in kindly, understanding, respectful ways. It’s all hate. So pardon me. I’m feeling hateful today. Toward politicians of all stripes. I hate ‘em all. I’m caught up in the turbulent river of hate. I just go with the flow. Hate. Hate. Hate and more hate. Endless hate. I’m ashamed of myself. As well I should be. But I can’t help it. I have an inbred hate for politicians. I keep trying to cleanse my soul of hate. But I can’t.  I retreat to my cocoon. And try to pretend that I no longer hate. But still, there it is on my mind. I hate politicians. I am consumed by hate. Maybe that’s the definition of hell. A place where hate abounds. Where politicians live and thrive. And make hateful pacts with the devil. No love. Only hate. –Jim Broede

A gift from Mother Nature.

Windy. Cold. Rainy. That was the weather in Sardinia. Last night and today. Until now. Around sunset. Everything is calm. And breaks in the clouds. Patches of blue. And I’m thinking. It’s all been nice. No complaints. I’ll take what I can get. Savoring everything. Yesterday. Today. Tomorrow. But maybe some days are more perfect than others. Tonight is perfect. The air is damp. But fresh.  For my true love. On her birthday. A gift from Mother Nature. –Jim Broede

Idiot (me) vs. genius (creator).

Seems to me that language is an essential part of life. Because for the early part of my being, though physically present, I was unaware of being alive. Lacking the words to tell myself that it’s real. That I’m living. In a physical body. Wasn’t really born in a conscious manner until I was blessed with actual meaningful words. I keep expanding my vocabulary. And that is precisely what makes me more and more aware of my existence. That I am what I am.  Very real. No doubt, I could be more aware if only I had more knowledge, more meaningful words. That would allow me to explain myself so much better. Maybe that’s the difference between the creator and beings such as me. The creator has a much bigger vocabulary. And therefore understands what I can’t understand. In a sense, I’m a relative idiot. And the creator is a genius.  Quite a difference. –Jim Broede

A conscious moment in time.

Wow! It’s March already. Time flies. By the last day of the month, I’ll be back in Minnesota again. After a winter’s sojourn in Sardinia. Living with my Italian true love. Looking forward to a return to the U.S. Thing is, I’m happy with life. No matter where I am. Want it to stay that way. Forever would be nice.  I like the back and forth. In a wonderful world, really. Though I do retreat into my cocoon.  Which is essential. For respite. For savoring my Italian true love. For savoring life, period. And I’m optimistic about the future. Figuring that life is ongoing. In another dimension. Perhaps in spiritual form. But if it ain’t forever, I won’t know. I’ll be oblivious all. And I’ll still be satisfied and grateful for having experienced a conscious moment in time. –Jim Broede

Something meant to be.

My Italian true love’s birthday is today. But ain’t gonna treat her any differently than I do on any other day. Things is, she’s special every day. Doesn’t matter that it’s her birthday. Just another day. Not gonna mention her age. She wouldn’t like it, if I did. All I can say is it’s a beautiful age. She’s been beautiful every day of her life. The most beautiful (and intelligent and wise) woman  I’ve ever known. She’s got it all. And maybe doesn’t know it. But from no lack of me telling her. Anyway, I’m happy that she was born into this world. And that out paths crossed. Maybe in an unlikely way. But I sense it was something meant to be. –Jim Broede