OPEN HEARTS
They teach.
They guide.
They counsel.
They console.
They befriend.
They minister.
They lead.
They inspire.
Again and again
Each reprises Just one lesson:
That we are valued,
That we are capable.
That is all.
That is everything.
DIANNE M. DEL GIORNO
Gratitude Prayers: Prayers, Poems, and Prose for Everyday Thankfulness June Cotner
Good Morning Digitial Neighbors! Happy Friday ADD Irregulars, WSN Curators & Contributors, Friends & Refugees, Misfits & PHAM, Early Birds & Later Dayers, Conversants, Lurkers, Seekers and Wanderer on Locals! I hope you have a good week, and if you haven't I hope there have been moments of blessing and unexpected joy. If it has been a total crapfest, you have even more of my prayers than normal. Life is not all peaches & cream, there are chapters and can distress and oppress us. As @SEPTUAGENARIAN was won't to say, BIG HUGS!!!
When I get too immersed in the culture, too wound up by politics life does seem like one parade of crapfests after another. It isn't a false perception, culture and politics is in a current chapter of such personal decay that the most active players and representatives in the field are among the most self-serving and inauthentic people you can encounter. I'd feel pity for them if they didn't desire so much empty acclaim and want to wield such power over our lives.
The selfish & conceited were never our betters, be they Pharoah and his court, elite clergy and their plush estates, nobility and their walled castles, congressmen and their entourage. Add to that last group "journalist", entertainers (was there a strike? I hadn't noticed) corporate tech and pharmaceutical overlords and condescending intellectuals spouting interpretations of life that are completely unmoored from experience and reality. It does seem like one exhausting parade of arrogance and condescension.
If we focus on them, and they would love that, we can find ourselves in a constant state of distress. I am not saying we should be unaware, that you wandered to Locals would seem to indicate you want to be aware, but not overwhelmed. You want to be informed and have the freedom to question and discuss what you hear without being silenced or shamed by our self-appointed betters. At the same time I suspect you are here because you do not want to be an addict to the narrative, even if it is one of opposition to it. Our supposed betters will take negative attention as much as unquestioning compliance, they thrive on attention and they want readily identify their scapegoats. While they condescend to any and all not in Club Groupthink, they do appreciate the most vocal of their critics as ready made scapegoats when the need arises or their critics actually start worrying them. Russel Brand comes to mind.
Stepping out of that stream of soul tainting toxicity is necessary on a regular basis. Be aware, labor to be informed, but do not let it become the obsession of your life. Strive for an open heart as describe in the poem at the beginning of this ramble.
Teach someone something meaningful, creative, beautiful or joyful.
Guide someone to a safe haven for insulation form the toxicity.
Counsel another in how to wade through this current chapter of culture
Console the tried and weary, listen to the unheard and ignored.
Befriend the lonely, the unlikely or the marginal, you might be surprised, they will be.
Minister to the hurting, sacrifice your time and self to another in need, family , friend or stranger
Lead the hesitant, the timid and the fearful. "You can do it" is such a power first step to better.
Inspire any who are attentive, strive for fellow fighters, not personal followers
The message is more important than the messenger. When they hear something worthwhile, step aside with some satisfaction that you could be a bearer of meaning. When others learn that they are valued, that they are capable their lives and any around them will change for the better even when the crapfest abides as it does, even the light seems to be dimming, your personal fire does not and you have allowed another to ignite theirs.
Autumn Red Barn Photograph by Debra and Dave Vanderlaan
Today marks the three hundred and thirtieth birthday of the Frenchman François-Marie Arouet, better known by his nom de plume, Voltaire (1694-1778).
Born into a bourgeois family during the reign of Louis XIV, the “Sun King” (r. 1643-1715), Voltaire suffered tragedy at a young age when his mother died. Never close with his father or brother, Voltaire exhibited a rebellious attitude toward authority from his youth. His brilliant mind was fostered in the care of the Society of Jesus, who introduced him to the joys of literature and theater. Despite his later criticisms against the Church, Voltaire, throughout his life, fondly recalled his dedicated Jesuit teachers.
Although he spent time as a civil servant in the French embassy to the Hague, Voltaire’s main love was writing—an endeavor where he excelled in various genres, including poetry, which led to his appointment as the royal court poet for King Louis XV. Widely recognized as one of the greatest French writers, and even hyperbolically referred to by ...
Padre - Tom Miller invites you to a Coffee Talk, Speakeasies, Schmoozes, Tea Times, Afterhours and other gatherings.
https://teams.live.com/meet/93792382189049?p=DiBHsYfuECPgDrG7vO
2026 Coffee Talk with the ADD Irregulars
Thursday, January 1, 2026
6:00 AM - 8:00 AM (CST)
Occurs every day starting 1/1 until 12/31/2027
Coffee Talk - Daily beginning at 6:00 AM Central Time Zone - USA
White Pilled Wednesday - A break from the heaviness of news and current events to focus upon things more personal & positive for the first hour of Coffee Talk.
Afternoon Chats - Most Tuesday, Friday & Sundays 2:00 PM Central
Other chats as posted in the community.
XIII
The Proud Minister
One day there came into the Garden a man in torn clothes badly bruised and cut, who said to the Lover, “In the name of the Beloved I demand your help.”
So the Lover and the Disciple let him in and dressed his wounds and prepared the best of the vegetables from the Garden for him to eat. When his wounds had been dressed and he had eaten and rested the Lover asked him how he had fallen into this plight, to which the man replied, “I was Minister of the Beloved in a city near this place, where I preached His gospel and expounded His doctrine to the people. I pointed out to them how their sins had made them wholly hateful to the Beloved and how therefore they were utterly beyond the range of His love and He would condemn them to eternal torments, whereon some fell into despair and wept bitterly but many were angry. One day the magistrates called me before them and begged me to leave the city and preach elsewhere for they said I had made many people so angry and desperate that they feared there might be a riot and they might not be able to protect me but that I might suffer some injury. I, however, very zealous for the Beloved and believing that the magistrates only feared that their own sins might be proclaimed, preached the more vehemently, denounced the magistrates and made it abundantly clear that the whole wicked city was foredoomed to eternal punishment by the just provision of the Beloved. Whereon a mob, stirred up no doubt by the corrupt and venal magistrates, fell upon me with sticks and stones, nearly killing me and driving me out of the city in the state in which I came to you.”
“My friend,” said the Lover, “this was not a good deed of yours, for besides denying the unfathomable compassion of the Beloved, you have by your obstinacy caused these people to commit a grievous sin, and this cannot be pleasing to the Beloved, that through you who profess to be His minister the people should become worse. Surely you remember that He Himself said, ‘If they persecute you in one city flee to another.’”
Therefore the man was very angry, and cursing the Lover, said, “I see that I have had a very false report of you and I do not believe that you are a servant of the Beloved at all. When I came to you so injured for the Beloved’s sake you set before me only herbs and fruits although the garden is full of birds which you could have killed to make me a worthy meal. I shall proclaim everywhere that you are no true servant of the Beloved but a mere falterer who dares not suffer in the cause of the Beloved. Be sure that you are foreordained to eternal torments who suffer nothing here.”
For the man was so blinded by his own pride that he could not perceive the scars on the hands and feet and the brows of the Lover nor how the cloth beneath the armpits of his tunic was dyed with a red dye. So he went out of the Garden cursing and shouting.
But the Lover looked sad and said, “A man like this does much harm to the cause of the Beloved, for by thus speaking falsely about the Beloved he may bring men to fear Him but none to love Him, and by love alone can any man approach the Beloved.”
