InnerActions

Oprah gives away Kindles by Amazon

Kim Ballard — Fri, 24 Oct 2008 21:37:00 GMT

Now that Oprah has endorsed Kindle by Amazon and given everyone in her studio audience their own device, I am concerned about how this ebook and kindle business will affect authors’ royalties. It’s already slim pickens for us at about 10 cents on the dollar, and now books are even less expensive when bought and downloaded into the kindle. So since it’s a revolution I cannot change or win, let me just encourage you then that if you do have a kindle, download me.

Gentle Truth in a poem

Kim Ballard — Sat, 27 Sep 2008 12:16:00 GMT

After a While

After a while you learn
The subtle difference between
Holding a hand and chaining a soul
And you learn that love doesn't mean leaning
And company doesn't always mean security.

And you begin to learn
That kisses aren't contracts
And presents aren't promises
And you begin to accept your defeats
With your head up and your eyes ahead
With the grace of a woman
Not the grief of a child

And you learn
To build all your roads on today
Because tomorrow's ground is
Too uncertain for plans
And futures have a way
Of falling down in mid flight

After a while you learn
That even sunshine burns if you get too much
So you plant your own garden
And decorate your own soul
Instead of waiting
For someone to bring you flowers

And you learn
That you really can endure
That you are really strong
And you really do have worth
And you learn and you learn
With every good bye you learn.

Veronica A. Shoffstall

Ubi sunt qui ante nos fuerunt?

Kim Ballard — Sun, 14 Sep 2008 17:11:00 GMT

Ubi sunt qui ante nos fuerunt?

Where are those who have gone before us?

For over a year now, the most bizarre thing continues to recur. Nearly on a daily basis, and in the most unexpected places in this little house, I will find a penny. Impossible to keep losing a penny every time I turn around, right? I go into the bathroom, there’s one on the floor. Get up in the morning, there’s one on the floor by the bed. Reach into the breakfront for a bowl, there’s a penny. Under the desk, in front of the tv, by the automan, in the sofa. Everywhere. One at a time, nearly every day.

It became apparent that the message was obviously that I needed to mind my finances. I had already begun to desire to invest the little money I have, the little money I make. These pennies showed me undeniably that money was "dripping through my fingers" and I needed to tighten the reign. Soon I found a financial advisor and began to gather my files and plan toward working investments.

The pennies continued to show up intermittently, and I found them frequently on sidewalks, near where I parked my car at work, around my office, and so forth.

A friend asked me outright: "Could there be someone who is trying to get your attention?" Immediately I thought of my grandmother.

They say when a loved one dies, the living one will feel her closeness more strongly, more intimately. Perhaps that’s true. Even those of us who do, that closeness changes in substance, frequency, like all relationships.

When my maternal grandmother died, the force of loss threw me into a tailspin I never would have guessed or could have foreseen. There were other difficult things in my inner life at the time that rendered unconscionable the possibility that Mama Ruth, such a force of nature, could be humanly lost to me, or to our family.

Though she was not always an easy person (no one really is), she was always true to herself, dignified, sincere, dedicated to God and her family, and bossy—with the best interest of her loved ones at heart. She was foundational and still is. I knew her mother, too, briefly. A similar presence, a similar strength, but somehow Mama Bagley was already more spirit and deific than human to me when she died.

Soon after Mama Ruth died, my Mama gave me her engagement ring. Since I don’t ever plan to have children, the one condition was that I would leave it to my niece Emily, who was born a week after Mama Ruth’s death, and was named Emily Ruth.

Several weeks, or maybe even months, before Mama Ruth had her stroke that would eventually take her life, I visited her on my own. Having finally reached adulthood, this became a treasured tradition for a short amount of years. On this visit, I took a picture of her in her kitchen one early morning. She is in the corner making cheese toast from biscuits made the day before. Rounded corner shelves frame the space between her windows and cabinets; on those shelves and window ledges are miniature pitchers as well as two healthy dark green ivy plants cascading behind her—these live on, cascading in my kitchen. She’s turned because I called her name from the doorway. She has on her house dress with a white sweater over it. The kitchen is bright and clean and evokes happy and eternal memories. I’m looking at it now, sitting prominently on a little dark wood corner shelving that she’d used in a bedroom.

At the moment I live in a tiny 495 sq. ft. cbc cottage with no sheet rocking. It is a glorified garden shed. But there is something in its coziness, and in the furniture and in the atmosphere that is reminiscent of her home. From the moment I found it, there was never a question that she is present with me here. There have even been times when it felt almost as if the wee cottage was, in a sense, her very self. Like I am living inside her presence. There were times early on when I could feel a palpable presence—hear her voice or the little grunt she’d make when she didn’t like what she heard or saw. She was overwhelmingly with me and I was exceedingly grateful.

As do most things, the sense of her presence faded somewhat.

The pennies began to show up. Looking back, I can see a correlation. As if she were indeed trying to get my attention. As the living metaphor for pinching pennies, it made perfect sense this would be the symbol used to attract me to the reality that I needed to attend to my finances and take responsibility for shifting more fully into investment mode. She was perhaps instructing me, nudging me, encouraging me toward a more conscientious saving.

Since moving into this little place, I have been interested in the prospect of investing in my own house. Although this place is more than adequate for the basic need for shelter and peaceful living, I need a bit more privacy from my landlord 10 feet away who begins dinner on the grill around 8:30 or 9, the very time I want to go to bed. He has also turned the vacant lot about 20 feet from my sliding glass doors and only means of looking out, into a shooting range. He is a plastic deer hunter. No laundry and no closet space are beginning to bother me, parking on the street and having no mail box, and the fact that I am here somewhat illegally, paying for his boat and hunting trips while I am not wisely investing, is beginning to bother me. So I have been looking for a house for almost two years.

Odd coincidences occurred not long ago and the search seriously kicked in and intensified. Now I have found a house that seems perfect. Only a tad out of my price range, I put an offer on it last Thursday night. Awoke Friday morning after another night of odd and semi-disturbing dreams. The feelings were not buyer’s remorse, but rather a terror that I will be turned down, that my offer will be rejected, that somehow, I will not be able to buy this house and it disturbed me turbulently.

After first block class this same Friday (I teach high school during the day), I left my portable for the break only to find a penny (heads up, even) on the ramp. My entire being washed through with the realization that Mama Ruth affirmed me in my efforts—I had done the right thing to offer, I was doing the right thing taking the risk, pursuing investment. While it doesn’t impress me as a sign that I will get the house, it is an affirmation of the presence of her spirit, and confirmed that I am following the right path, whatever comes.

A couple of friends have said I should save the penny, that it means I’ll get the house, thoughts like that. But it isn’t about the penny or getting the house I want, it’s about being connected within our lives to the lives that have brought us to this place and to the spirits that have given us life and continue to strengthen our souls, linking with us, comforting us in our struggles and in our pursuits. We are fortunate to know some of their names, the ancestors we have met and overlapped with in time. Each of us is fortunate to have even the nameless ones among us, companioning us on the journey.

wc: 1269

091308

—Kim Ballard

In honor of my mama, Mama Ruth, Mama Bagley, all my family and friends here and beyond.

Title Change: Capstone becomes OakTara Publishers

Kim Ballard — Sun, 14 Sep 2008 17:04:00 GMT

If you are having trouble finding Capstone Fiction . com, it's because that name has had to change. The new name is OakTara Publishers and the website is OakTara.com.

It's only been a couple of weeks and they are doing everything they can to reload all the title. Julia's Quest is not yet back on the front page or in the catalogue or bookstore. So if you want to order "Julia's Quest" the best thing to do is go to Amazon or Barnes and Noble.

I'm so sorry for the inconvenience!

Homeless

Kim Ballard — Sat, 09 Aug 2008 12:30:00 GMT

Upon reading www.inwardoutward.org August 9's article...

At the end of my block an elderly man lives in a wheelchair and sits just off to the side of the driveway that leads to the back of a gas station and a prominent injury lawyer’s firm. He faces the street, across which are two majestic banyans, as if framing a driveway, that may have been there once and may have led to a home but now frame only a bit of open space surrounded by dense woods. Hurricanes tend to swallow things here.

The man is sometimes between the two banyans. Sometimes he is in an open garage area of the gas station that is no longer used, but I think when the station changed from a "Pure" to a "Shell" they made him leave. There is a younger man with a bicycle who is there with the man probably every day. I see him often.

I am aware of this man’s presence. I wonder if he is aware of mine. I have "done nothing" for him. Seems absurd to be wary of a stranger who appears so helpless. But I am wary. I’m not afraid of him—emotionally or physically. I’m curious about him, who he is, who he was, how he got to a wheelchair off US Hwy 1 in Martin County. But I haven’t asked. When I consider stopping and chatting...it seems almost intrusive. He is in his "home" with no doors for me to knock on first...I have never knocked on the doors of my other neighbors. I have never presumed that his need is dictated by my assessment. Or that he would welcome me...

When I worked in Chicago I visited the Art Institute everyday during my lunch time and noticed a homeless woman who watched folks who might discard food into the big trash cans on the street. One day I managed to catch her eye and I made sure she saw that I had a sandwich and that I put half of it back in the bag. When I finished my half, eating as I sat on the steps to the Institute, she continued doing her thing but noticed me when I stood. I walked by the trash can and laid the bag on top and crossed the street heading back to my office. I did turn to see if she had understood my message and she was there, eating the sandwich, watching me walk away. I was only there six months and I didn’t see her every day and I never spoke with her. But we were connected.

The message today to be aware is greatly encouraging. At some point perhaps there will be an opportunity to "do something" for the man at the end of my street.

The image of the man sleeping by the escalator, disturbing no one, yet becoming the victim of someone who noticed him is a profoundly troubling image. It should be. But which is more troubling to me—that the woman insisted on having him be removed? Or that the reality of his situation dictated that he had to sleep by an escalator?

Knowing how best to respond (or how best to judge need) is a constant question for me.

Perhaps you (fellow readers on a similar path) might have an insight?

Doubt

Kim Ballard — Thu, 07 Aug 2008 23:35:00 GMT

August 7, 2008

lectio: right thinking

Sunday’s lectio 8.10.08: I Kings 19; Matthew 14

today’s lectio Matthew 16

Initially the word "saw" from "But when he saw how strong the wind was" called my attention. Peter is actually walking on water until he sees how strong the wind is and it scares him. He cried out, Jesus grabs him, saves him and tells him he has little faith, asks him why he doubts.

What does he doubt? He doubts his or Jesus’ power over the storm? He doubts he can walk on water when a storm is coming? Isn’t it wise to see that a storm is coming, something beyond my strength, and call out for help?

Wait. A few verses back the folks on the shore fear they see a ghost in the early, early mist predawn. Jesus says "Take courage" because it’s himself. Peter calls back, "IF" . . . there’s the doubt. Peter doubts Jesus’ identity and calls out a condition for faith—that he will be able to walk on water just as Jesus is doing.

The doubt doesn’t seem to be about the ability to walk on water, or the capacity to survive the storm.

Maybe Jesus is asking, "Why did you insist on putting yourself in harm’s way? What is this ego demonstration? To take on what is beyond you to prove I am who I say? You changed the issue to become something about you—believing you could do something supernatural that would prove how cool you are or how much God loves you by doing something "miraculous"—rather than simply believing what I say—that it’s me out here on the water walking toward you. You cannot do what I do simply because your motivation, doubt, fear, beliefs that the elements have power to destroy prevents you from breaking the laws of gravity of your own doubt."

This is a difficult lesson because gravity is a beautiful thing—keeps my mess in place. But that’s not the point. The point is right thinking. Pure mind and heart. It is hard work and no work at all.

What if Peter had said, "O Jesus! It’s you!" Then, with the excitement and trust of a child, had run out across the water to meet him—oblivious (in a sense) to the wind and the water? I bet he would have been "successful"—because he wouldn’t have been attached to the wind or the water but to the delight of being with the One.

It’s about what I see. It’s about what I think. The work of it is in letting go (Matthew 16, today’s lectio reading)—that’s the key to living in the abundance of God.

The Old Testament reading of I Kings 19 says God is found...

not in the disastrous wind

not in the destructive earthquake

not in the annihilating fire

but in the tiny whispering sound. . .

Computer Gloom Doom and the ACER

Kim Ballard — Tue, 05 Aug 2008 12:03:00 GMT

On poor impulse I bought an ACER 5520 something or other and have regretted it almost from the moment I swiped the credit card. Why didn't I take it right back to the shop where I bought it? I was out of town, and I was traveling, and I was frustrated, and I was on deadline and...time flies.

We're still in the midst of trying to work it out...I need an affordable computer and the folks I bought the ACER from are working hard to please me, which I truly appreciate. Looking at a Toshiba. Had a Dell and loved it for a few years and then...long disappointing story about my experience with the last two techs before I threw the laptop off the fourth floor balcony...I mean, I imagined throwing it off the balcony and seeing it shatter into a million bits of plastic and metal when it hit the pavement below.

My point here is a firm grasp of the obvious morality tale: DO YOU HOMEWORK BEFORE YOU BUY. BEFORE you buy. I winged it. But in my defense, I had a Gateway tower years ago that I loved for a long time so I decided to get a laptop---the week ACER bought them out so I bought the ACER. BIG HUGE ERROR in judgement.

According to my salesman/tech yesterday, the ACER is one of the best computers out there yaddy yadda...and the true problem is that I can outtype it. Do what now? I can outtype the keyboard processor and that is my fault, not an indictment against the ACER. Right. So far I haven't outtyped this backup Toshiba that my dad has had for years and years with 512 ram memory and the ACER I had had 2GB ram! supposedly twice as fast... okay geek, if that's not related, I apologize.

But my point is, there are plenty of us writers out there who type really fast and can barely keep up with the story that ribbons out of our minds...so ANY laptop out there should be able to keep up and if it doesn't, it's crap.

I also didn't like the Dolby sound system...even with all the options and ways of listening to music (like underwater or through a pipe...please), none of it sounded pleasant enough...unless i put in my earbuds, then it was okay---and okay through itunes, not the youtubes...

At least I am now better educated. About $800 better. The keyboard matters, cheap shortcuts on anything will affect performance. That's true of equipment. It's true of human effort. I took the shortcut---didn't want to do the homework beyond assumptions based on past experiences...and one voice commendation. Sometimes that's enough. Sometimes it's not. I wish I had typed that thing into the ground before leaving town without the "oh, it will shake out" because all computers are essentially alike misconception.

Do a lot of writing? Don't get an ACER. Look it up---ACER has a history of really bad issues with freezing mouse, freezing keyboard, and then my issue, typing along, keyboard freezes a split second, and i lose up to eight characters. doesn't sound like a big deal but if you're being interrupted every two or three minutes while you're trying to work, it is a problem, and then the time it takes to correct the problem, and the frustration that mounts from being interrupted and spending the time and energy to fix it EVERY THREE OR FOUR MINUTES, is a whole lot of disintegrating negative energy and ... I can't take it anymore.

Now I'm paranoid about trying Toshiba. Sigh.

Have you seen "Stop-Loss" ?

Kim Ballard — Sun, 20 Jul 2008 14:31:00 GMT

If you haven't, see it. If you have...what did you think? I saw it last night...truly a sobering look at what the "Iraq conflict" is doing to our soldiers and thereby to each of us.
    Maybe you're tired of hearing about Iraq. I am. In my opinion, my growing impatience and distancing from the "whole issue" is exactly what perpetuates the hell of hundreds of thousands of Americans and their families, then double or triple that number to include the Iraqis, Afghans, and all the others involved in this interminable war.
    Stop-Loss steps right into the heart and soul of a small group of young people who have fought valiantly for their country (whether they went overseas or stayed home) and got screwed by the government through stop-loss---reinstituting their contract to force them back onto the battlefield without choice (whereas initially they volunteered). It's a back-door draft.
    The wikipedia has a lot to say about it, and so does this film. For a more detailed review of the film, check out Travers' review, but he gives a THOROUGH look at the film and if that kind of thing spoils it for you, don't read it. Just see the film.

http://www.rollingstone.com/reviews/movie/17357964/review/19580698/stoploss

I look forward to hearing your reflection on the issue, the film, the war... talk to me.

July 18, 2008

Kim Ballard — Fri, 18 Jul 2008 15:15:00 GMT

Words are harder to
sculpt than clay. Each day drags me
into their darkness.

Reflection on The Alchemist

Kim Ballard — Thu, 17 Jul 2008 12:44:00 GMT

Reading "The Alchemist" for school ... yesterday came across a bit that reminded me of a conversation with a friend about what makes us cry...:
"As he was about to climb yet another dune, his heart whispered, 'Be aware of the place where you are brought to tears. That's where I am, and that's where your treasure is'" (Coelho 159).
Then...what we treasure stirs our heart to joy, which is the fountain from which all our tears come. That would mean, then, that perhaps within sorrow and loss, the well of joy, of our treasure, is far deeper, supplying our hearts with the tears that come in remembering...

Signing party July 12!

Kim Ballard — Wed, 16 Jul 2008 11:41:00 GMT

Great party last Saturday! Close, intimate gathering to celebrate the "birth" of "Julia’s Quest" and, well, "rebirth" (I guess) of "Light at Summer’s End"! Tremendous fun and wonderful to be supported by everyone. Of course, being teachers mostly, many friends were doing the summer travel vacation thing and I certainly missed them! Thanks to Chris and everyone for great wine, great nibbles, and great chats!! Wish I had pics to upload!

God

Kim Ballard — Sat, 12 Jul 2008 01:36:00 GMT

In the music God
weeps with me. All I really
want is to be home

by the sea

Kim Ballard — Fri, 11 Jul 2008 02:51:00 GMT

by the sea I wait;
longing comes like ocean waves...
my heart comforts me.

home is the ocean
found only in lover’s eyes.
I long to see you...

Invitation to Chat!!

Kim Ballard — Sat, 17 May 2008 14:59:00 GMT

Okay this is really exciting! Finally finally, it looks like the novel will be OUT THERE for you to read in about 3 weeks (let's say June 2008) from www.captstonefiction.com.

"Julia's Quest" has had a rough time of it...life kept interrupting my progress and...well i'll spare you those details. The important thing is the novel is now completed (though I have since even reconsidered some things...oh the torture of editing) and ready to be read.

After you have a chance to read it, let's talk!

oh, go to www.storykim.com and (in three weeks) I'll have posted the press release...

Invitation to chat

Kim Ballard — Sat, 17 May 2008 14:49:00 GMT

Just because I've had a blog for a year doesn't mean I've known the first thing about how to optimize it! I invested for the main purpose of generating interest in the stories. And finally I've gotten a little friendly feedback and so ... here we go. If you have ideas about how to better communicate through this cyberworld, I am listening with all my digits (okay that was supposed to be a joke related to the digitized world we live in...but...i digress).

"Light at Summer's End" is considered young adult fiction because the main protagonist is a teenager, but the "heroic" character is a retired English teacher. I wrote this novel in the late '80s and it was published in 1990 by Harold Shaw Publishers outside Chicago.

Then last year (2007) Capstone Fiction asked to reprint and ...so it goes. hopefully you have also seen the website (another venture of mystery) www.storykim.com that tells more about the story and has a link to a press release... find a copy on www.capstonefiction.com or www.booksamillion.com and i think there are other places. Some salesperson I've turned out to be. Slowly but surely?

but HERE is where I can "hear from" you about the story...so...talk to me.

Consideration

Kim Ballard — Sat, 17 May 2008 14:25:00 GMT

In a waiting room crowded with chairs along the wall and in the room’s center, there were only five of us who peopled it. Cumbersome it was to move across the space. An elderly man cautiously made his way through with a polite, "‘Scuse me," wherein the elderly woman moved her foot for him to get by, acknowledging with a songly "Mm hmm," as he passed. Oddly touching in its simplicity, the connectedness of all human beings through polite exchange of consideration, each "bowing" to each, as it were.

I wondered, why be considerate? I imagined the question coming from a child. Clearly the answer came: Because it’s how we each long to be treated—even at its most simple and basic, cursory and easily forgotten fraction of a second. Because acknowledging the other is acknowledging self. Showing respect is commanding respect.

Order is called out of the chaos of the otherwise complicated realities of our lives—waiting in doctors’ offices, attending to paperwork, meeting deadlines, assessing and being assessed—inherently there are difficulties and challenges and opportunities to be hurt by situations and circumstances. Surely it is a great relief and tour de force to show simple kindness, simple politeness, a smile, acknowledgment, verbal affirmation of the presence and significance of other. To do to other is to do to self. So charity, consideration, begins at "home," inside our own souls and "right thinking."

(Would that always my deeds reflected my words, that the power of my actions would draw from the power of my words. This is my prayer.)

We are living in an increasingly violent world—gratuitously violent in our media and relationships. Just look at the Oscar winners for 2008. Just watch the news. Just listen to your colleague reflect on his or her situation at home or the office. The world is disintegrating. Dis - integrating. The root of the problem? Forgetting our connectedness to each other. Losing touch, touch, with our Source. Peter Travers from "The Rolling Stones" quotes the sherif (Tommy Lee Jones) from "No Country for Old Men": "It starts when you begin to overlook bad manners. Anytime you quit hearin' 'sir' and 'ma'am,' the end is pretty much in sight."

Is there hope? Check out "The Web of Life" posted on www.inwardoutward.org. (http://www.inwardoutward.org/index.php?s=web+of+life)

I found hope there. A scent of fresh-tilled earth...a glimmer of morning sun on the trembling leaves...

March 4 Haiku

Kim Ballard — Wed, 05 Mar 2008 10:48:00 GMT

tree frogs dance tapping

on my window panes at dawn

thin crescent moon smiles

Lenten Born

Kim Ballard — Sun, 02 Mar 2008 17:31:00 GMT

030208 Lenten born

The baby was born at 2 pounds, 2 ounces. Life impossible. Yet the baby pulls through minute by minute, hour by hour, day by day. The parents are young. Terrified. Their first-born son comes with unimaginable challenges, should he survive. Should he survive?

The prognosis seems better with each difficult day. Today the doctor says the child will have cerebral palsy. Something about lack of oxygen to the brain, underdeveloped brain function. Cerebral palsy.

Word spreads. One friend tells me about a family member with cerebral palsy because of extreme premature birth who just completed college, lives on his own, has a good job. Is a sweet and caring young man. What more?

I had a student years ago with cerebral palsy who has many friends, and whose family seems well adjusted—her accommodations are in place, but she is not pampered, she is extremely independent and strong-willed. She’s also an average but hard-working, good student. A delightful human being with a great sense of humor.

Lent is a difficult time for some of us who come face to face with our greatest fears. We come face to face with our deepest needs. We come face to face with the depravity that causes us grief and pain. We come face to face with God who is so bright that our shadows are ever darker and colder. Then we get to choose what we do next, who we want to be.

And notice, in saying "we," I remember that it is about community and sharing as well as reflecting who we are and who we want to be. We are not alone. We are each of us walking a precarious path of discovering self and others.

Today, this baby’s story reminds me that I have in me and innate intention to live—even against certain odds. There is a life-force beyond any obstacle I might fear. There is a reason to try again today to chip away at accomplishing those tasks and dreams with which I’ve been entrusted. There is a great deal of power and force at work to live. To live beyond.

There is always hope...that something beyond ourselves is happening and increasing power for each and all of us. I resolve to face my fears and my shortcomings with courage; perhaps this baby will draw strength from the Whole of us. In turn, I am deeply grateful for his life, having already gleaned vicariously, a bit of his life’s courageous power to survive against the odds, in the face of obstacles, in light of Grace.

John 9:2 And His disciples asked Him, "Rabbi, who sinned, this man or his parents, that he would be born blind?"

3 Jesus answered, "It was neither that this man sinned, nor his parents; but it was so that the works of God might be displayed in him."

Time

Kim Ballard — Tue, 22 Jan 2008 01:10:00 GMT

Too much time goes by. Lost track of tracking through writing what I'm thinking and writing. Fall semester concluded last Friday. Today is MLKjr day. His words are poignant today, in the midst of our crisis with Iraq and other places.

Tomorrow a new semester starts. I have spent the weekend writing. I spent Christmas break remembering how to be a person living a balanced life and then put it all aside to storm the last two weeks of the semester.

Over the last few months, the bits or pieces that I have written have often felt like good little pieces to post...but haven't had the time to find the code to get in! Now I have found it once again and hope to be more faithful.

I opened this account, and the website, in order to promote my stories. Still there is only one story available. I am hoping the proofs and then the final copy of "Julia's Quest" will be ready soon. I wrote my editor yesterday to ask about proofs. I should hear from her tomorrow...

Peace Takes Courage

Kim Ballard — Sat, 06 Oct 2007 13:42:00 GMT

http://www.peacetakescourage.com/wwjd.html

Ava Lowry is 16 years old and chipping away at the message that it's time to see what we're really doing out there with this "war"...after you watch the vid, i encourage you to link to her site and read about her efforts for peace and about her other films.

War is complicated...i believe when we use violence, the only thing we will achieve is more violence, more hatred. Gandhi said: "I object to violence because when it appears to do good, the good is only temporary; the evil it does is permanent."

(Indian political and spiritual leader (1869 - 1948) )

It's a tough issue and we discuss it from time to time in the classroom and it is evident that as a culture, we have a hard time seeing other ways to deal with "mass murderers" like Hitler...Osama bin Laden... I don't have any answers. That's why I'm a storyteller, a teacher and not a politician. As a teacher, I only have questions. And more questions. Stories. And more stories. While the questions and the stories seem to be quite painful in this regard, the enduring element to the human spirit that we see there time and again is HOPE. Hope that we can go beyond the impulse of violence to something more enduring, more healing, more eternal. We can learn to love.

While I'm pontificating this morning, let me recommend www.eliewieselfoundation.org . There is a category link for essays on ethical issues in the world today. College age students submit these essays and the top four winning essays can be found here and they are profoundly thought-provoking, well-written, moving pieces.

Again: http://www.peacetakescourage.com/wwjd.html

Shabbat Shalom

Pax Pacis

Namaste

Peace