In my dreams.

One mass shooting a day. In the U.S.A.  And 30,000 gun deaths in a year. I was reminded of that statistic. On the news. Just before I went to bed. Last night. Then I pondered. How many people fell in love today?  I imagined. An incredibly large number. I’d like to see a study. Research.  On the magnitude of love. Maybe it’ll all come to me. In my dreams. --Jim Broede

Tranquility in a turbulent world.

I can take the news. Good or bad. No sense in cutting myself off. From what's going on in the world. Knowing full well that I can't do anything about it. Therefore, I have reason not to be bothered. I might as well accept the world. As it is. Meanwhile, I can learn how to better control my emotions.  And not get too annoyed or upset over the bad stuff. Might as well focus on the good stuff. Mostly little things. Happening around me. Virtually every day. In my relatively remote spot. On a lake. In Minnesota. I could be in far worse places. Instead, I'm blessed with peace and tranquility. In what seems to be a turbulent world -- at least based on the news reports. --Jim Broede

In a good mood. Most of the time.

My unhappiest friends seem to have a big failing in common. They don't take care of themselves. Maybe that's the source of their unhappiness.  They're neglectful. Not necessarily of others. But of themselves. They don't take adequate time to indulge themselves. To savor the pleasures of life.  They run themselves ragged.  Rarely taking vacations or time off. For the sake of rejuvenation. They are the most difficult friends to be around.  They tend to be ornery.  But I don't let that bother me. I still try to act friendly. Which is relatively easy. Because I take care of myself. And that puts me in a good mood. Most of the time. --Jim Broede

The ability to savor the joy.

I like love stories. Except for the ones that end tragically. And even then, there's something nice to salvage. All the love that went on. Before things went awry. Too often leading to an unhappy ending. But one should be able to fragment the story. Break it down into chapters. So that one can focus on the good times. When things were going right. Instead of wrong. That's the beauty of life. Full of more ups than downs. One has to learn to accept the moments of sorrow. That's an ingredient of a true love story. The ability, in the end,  to savor the joy. --Jim Broede

Two love stories.

I'm thinking tonight of my role. As a close observer. Of the festering relationship between my friends Rick and Julie. And that I'm sort of helpless. To do anything about it. Really, I can't do much other than watch. I can't fix it. Only they can do that.  It could happen. But it's unlikely. First, Julie would have to quit drinking.  And become her old self again. And that's impossible. She's too far gone. It's a study. In how a relationship falls apart. Disintegrates. Crumbles. Piece by piece. And probably can't be put back together again.  It's probably going to have a sad ending. But still, it's a love story. That went awry. That makes for a good novel. But in this case, it's real. I've long said. That life is like living in a novel. That's what I am doing. Therefore, there's no need for me to write a novel. I'm living my own novel.  A continuing love story. Fortunately, with more upbeat and happy twists than the Rick and Julie love story. --Jim Broede

Too many gods, perhaps.

Yes. I have to admit. That it wouldn’t be right and proper. If I could dictate the twists and turns of life.  Because that would be asking for more power than the gods. Even the gods don’t ask for or expect all-encompassing control over their domains. That is, if they even have domains. Could be that the gods don’t even exist. Other than in one’s imagination. My favorites are the Greek gods. I didn’t even have to think them up. That was already done for me by the imaginative Greeks. Of course, there’s no shortage of gods. Virtually every civilization. Has had a god or two or three. I was brought up. To revere the Christian concept of god. But now I’m not so sure any more. Which is the real god. Or the fake gods. So many choices. Makes me wonder. If there are multiple competing gods. And if so, maybe that explains the chaotic twists and turns of life. Too many gods trying to run the show. --Jim Broede

Couldn't wait. For a new day.

I love to get up. A few hours after going to bed. To read a book. Or to write. To contemplate. Being alive. Such a wonderful feeling. After being refreshed. By sleep. Time for a doughnut and a glass of milk. A loving thought, too. Guess I couldn’t wait. For a new day. --Jim Broede