If I had to concoct an analogy ....
Our DNA is analogous to a deck of playing cards.
We are dealt a hand.
Here is where it becomes interesting.
Often in Poker, the absolute 'value' of the hand you hold is secondary to how you
play.
You might have a losing hand and play it as though it is a world beater.
Conversely, a winning hand you may perceive as inferior to what others hold.
A Lifetime is a series of 'showdowns' with wins and losses.
We all have something to work with.
Where I've failed on the whole is in the ambition department. I've worked seven decades to eradicate my feeling of inferiority. Some of it was bluff and other times guff.
In between I learned, adapted, rope-a-doped, and re-calibrated.
By the time I could play competently, I'd wasted a great many wonderful opportunities.
I'm still alive.
That's a BIG WIN all by itself.
I am not my brain. I am the ghost inside. I haunt my perception of Self.
Dreams, delusions, aspirations, beliefs, loves, are the formaldehyde in the jar where it all floats.
Yeah - I went too far on that one.
Posts by Terry
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14Do you have a barking, snarling, vicious Brain-Dog too?
by Terry inthere is a snapping vicious junkyard dog in my head.
a dog constantly barking, hungry, terrifyingly intimidating, and above all...relentless!.
unless i feed it a constant stream of input - it threatens to eat me alive.. (it is that monster from the id in forbidden planet.).
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Terry
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14
Do you have a barking, snarling, vicious Brain-Dog too?
by Terry inthere is a snapping vicious junkyard dog in my head.
a dog constantly barking, hungry, terrifyingly intimidating, and above all...relentless!.
unless i feed it a constant stream of input - it threatens to eat me alive.. (it is that monster from the id in forbidden planet.).
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Terry
Xanthippe -
Maybe it's like metabolism. Each person has a different baseline.
Mine is high octane and my head the racing engine that can't sit in the garage.
The smell of burnt brain rubber lingers on... -
15
Blew it this morning with 4 JWs
by Vanderhoven7 inso i decided to go hunting for jws this morning.
walked to the end of my driveway and who should be approaching...but 2 ladies, one old (dianne) and one younger both with watchtower mags in hand.
dianne shared how the world was under the control of satan etc.
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Terry
In my lifetime I've had moments of spectacular rudeness I can never take back I'd directed toward fairly innocent and well-meaning JW's who approached me with face filled with sunlight. I torched them.
Once in the presence of my two small (at the time) kids who looked at me like they'd had no clue their father was a monster.
Like I say ...we may not know how damaged and angry we are. PTSD is my only excuse - if it is indeed that.
Suffice to say - I do not go down that road. Who am I helping?
Who could be helped?
We live. We learn.
Chalk it up to damage done and repaid. -
14
Do you have a barking, snarling, vicious Brain-Dog too?
by Terry inthere is a snapping vicious junkyard dog in my head.
a dog constantly barking, hungry, terrifyingly intimidating, and above all...relentless!.
unless i feed it a constant stream of input - it threatens to eat me alive.. (it is that monster from the id in forbidden planet.).
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Terry
Yeah; you're right.
Or one wolf with schizophrenia :)
If you feed the one, the other is automatically fed. -
14
Do you have a barking, snarling, vicious Brain-Dog too?
by Terry inthere is a snapping vicious junkyard dog in my head.
a dog constantly barking, hungry, terrifyingly intimidating, and above all...relentless!.
unless i feed it a constant stream of input - it threatens to eat me alive.. (it is that monster from the id in forbidden planet.).
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Terry
The Monster from the id certainly feels about right :)
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14
Do you have a barking, snarling, vicious Brain-Dog too?
by Terry inthere is a snapping vicious junkyard dog in my head.
a dog constantly barking, hungry, terrifyingly intimidating, and above all...relentless!.
unless i feed it a constant stream of input - it threatens to eat me alive.. (it is that monster from the id in forbidden planet.).
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Terry
I just took the Briggs-Meyers test:
https://www.16personalities.com/personality-typesThe Myers–Briggs Type Indicator is an introspective self-report questionnaire with the purpose of indicating differing psychological preferences in how people perceive the world around them and make decisions.
__________
1. 57% Extroverted
2. 69 % Intuitive
3. 63 % Feeling (Nature)
4. 56% Tactics
5. 72% Turbulent Identity
Your personality type is:
Campaigner
ENFP-T
________
Curious – When it comes to new ideas, Campaigners aren’t interested in brooding – they want to go out and experience things, and don’t hesitate to step out of their comfort zones to do so. Campaigners are imaginative and open-minded, seeing all things as part of a big, mysterious puzzle called life.
Observant – Campaigners believe that there are no irrelevant actions, that every shift in sentiment, every move and every idea is part of something bigger. To satisfy their curiosity, Campaigners try to notice all of these things, and to never miss a moment.
Energetic and Enthusiastic – As they observe, forming new connections and ideas, Campaigners won’t hold their tongues – they’re excited about their findings, and share them with anyone who’ll listen. This infectious enthusiasm has the dual benefit of giving Campaigners a chance to make more social connections, and of giving them a new source of information and experience, as they fit their new friends’ opinions into their existing ideas.
Excellent Communicators – It’s a good thing that Campaigners have such strong people skills, or they’d never express these ideas. Campaigners enjoy both small talk and deep, meaningful conversations, which are just two sides of the same coin for them, and are adept at steering conversations towards their desired subjects in ways that feel completely natural and unforced.
Know How to Relax – It’s not all “nature of the cosmos” discussions with Campaigners – people with this personality type know that sometimes, nothing is as important as simply having fun and experiencing life’s joys. That Intuitive trait lets Campaigners know that it’s time to shake things up, and these wild bursts of enthusiastic energy can surprise even their closest friends.
Very Popular and Friendly – All this adaptability and spontaneity comes together to form a person who is approachable, interesting and exciting, with a cooperative and altruistic spirit and friendly, empathetic disposition. Campaigners get along with pretty much everyone, and their circles of friends stretch far and wide.
_____
Poor Practical Skills – When it comes to conceiving ideas and starting projects, especially involving other people, Campaigners have exceptional talent. Unfortunately their skill with upkeep, administration, and follow-through on those projects struggles. Without more hands-on people to help push day-to-day things along, Campaigners’ ideas are likely to remain just that – ideas.
Find it Difficult to Focus – Campaigners are natural explorers of interpersonal connections and philosophy, but this backfires when what needs to be done is that TPS report sitting right in front of them. It’s hard for Campaigners to maintain interest as tasks drift towards routine, administrative matters, and away from broader concepts.
Overthink Things – Campaigners don’t take things at face value – they look for underlying motives in even the simplest things. It’s not uncommon for Campaigners to lose a bit of sleep asking themselves why someone did what they did, what it might mean, and what to do about it.
Get Stressed Easily – All this overthinking isn’t just for their own benefit – Campaigners, especially Turbulent ones, are very sensitive, and care deeply about others’ feelings. A consequence of their popularity is that others often look to them for guidance and help, which takes time, and it’s easy to see why Campaigners sometimes get overwhelmed, especially when they can’t say yes to every request.
Highly Emotional – While emotional expression is healthy and natural, with Campaigners even viewing it as a core part of their identity, it can come out strongly enough to cause problems for this personality type. Particularly when under stress, criticism or conflict, Campaigners can experience emotional bursts that are counter-productive at best.
Independent to a Fault – Campaigners loathe being micromanaged and restrained by heavy-handed rules – they want to be seen as highly independent masters of their own fates, even possessors of an altruistic wisdom that goes beyond draconian law. The challenge for Campaigners is that they live in a world of checks and balances, a pill they are not happy to swallow.
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14
Do you have a barking, snarling, vicious Brain-Dog too?
by Terry inthere is a snapping vicious junkyard dog in my head.
a dog constantly barking, hungry, terrifyingly intimidating, and above all...relentless!.
unless i feed it a constant stream of input - it threatens to eat me alive.. (it is that monster from the id in forbidden planet.).
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Terry
At a certain age I thought learning and self-improvement would make me "worthy" of - I don't know what - other people's attention? Friendship? Admiration?
It doesn't work that way. Not at all.
People generally don't like being around a know-it-all or even a too-curios seeker of information. Why?
Well, I think NORMAL people have better ways to spend their time than trivial detail-mongering.
BLONDIE -
I can see how bothersome the worry can be.
When is it just good sense to worry and when does it border on neurosis?
Obsessive thoughts are neurotic because they interfere with happiness.
I don't think I'm obsessive in the psychosis end of it - although for many years I was an avid collector records (vinyl LP's) to the point of mania.
Nope - it's not a GIFT.
It is the thing that makes me too different to go with the flow and be with other people.
I have to fake it to appear normal.
I'm definitely not an intellectual or even brilliant. Those are very different sorts of folks.
I know because I have met some. I ain't them!
The MIND is a very curious lump of meat. -
14
Do you have a barking, snarling, vicious Brain-Dog too?
by Terry inthere is a snapping vicious junkyard dog in my head.
a dog constantly barking, hungry, terrifyingly intimidating, and above all...relentless!.
unless i feed it a constant stream of input - it threatens to eat me alive.. (it is that monster from the id in forbidden planet.).
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Terry
MY BRAIN-DOG
There is a snapping vicious junkyard dog in my head.
A dog constantly barking, hungry, terrifyingly intimidating, and above all...relentless!Unless I feed it a constant stream of input - it threatens to eat me alive.
(It is that Monster from the id in Forbidden Planet.)
Is everybody like that?
Or is it just me?
____Examples.
If I find something to do, to read, to listen to, to think about which is 100% interesting - the barking stops and I can concentrate TOTALLY and lose myself in the process.
Hours at a time.
Relaxed.But -Uh Oh - if I'm not totally absorbed because then a restless energy seizes the beast and I'm miserable.
Asleep at night - a thought enters a dream and asks a question and suddenly - WIDE AWAKE! Bark bark barking.
___
As a Kid : Brain-puppyWhen I was a kid and my parents took me to grownup movies I didn't understand - instead of getting restless, squirming and acting up --I sat perfectly still because I WAS GLUED to trying to make sense out of it!
Raw meat for my Brain-puppyIn School?
The same with books.
Hard books.I loved finding difficult books at the public library
and spent hours writing down words I didn't understand - looking up definitions - listing the new words - memorizing them.
Memorizing Poetry, Pi to fifty decimal places ...More raw meat for the Brain-dog
I even enjoy reading about things I'm not interested in because my disinterest is interesting. Crazy?
It shuts up the barking, snarling Brain-dog!
As a teenager I got into the whole religious cult thingy because there was so much "information" to absorb, analyze, research, and commit to memory.
Historical dates, long scriptural passages.My brain wanted to drain the Bible of all its mystery - even to the point of teaching myself Greek.
I learned how to get up in front of strangers and give an hour sermon. Thrilling!It shut up the fully grown Brain-mastiff
So too with Music!
I read books on why Western hemisphere music is 12-tones (books on the Theory of Equal Temperament).
I wanted to figure out what notes went with which chords.
(I can tell you every note in every chord in all inversions.)In prison I taught myself piano and how harmony worked by sneaking into the Catholic rectory (while others went to the Mess Hall to eat.)
My brain was more starved than my body.
WHY? WHY?Raw meat.
Trivia. Puns. Vocabulary. Quotations. Very very interesting to me.
Writing itself is not elective for the most part!
I MUST WRITE when an odd thought pops into my skull or it won't leave me alone.But IF I DELIBERATELY TRY to write something somebody wants me to write about --you think it will come easily?
Hell no!
Can a Mind understand the Brain? Sure.
Can your Mind understand itself?
Hell no!
___CONCLUSIONS
I know how to feed that snapping vicious junkyard dog in my head - but I don't know who put it there or why.
I hope your Brain isn't like my brain.
I hope you have a fluffy pussycat curled up purring instead.Tell me, please, about your relationship with your own Mind.
What sort of beast is it?? -
11
How a young Jehovah's Witness found an escape and a Teacher suddenly appeared.
by Terry inhow a young jehovah's witness found an escape and a teacher suddenly appeared._____________.
1974____i escaped texas in my mid-20’s -- a fugitive of my own life--fleeing westward into california with a dream of- i know not what.i knew nothing useful - it was only bible knowledge.what i did know, i was full of in the same way foie gras is made.
(in france, ducks are force-fed until their liver bursts.
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Terry
How a young Jehovah's Witness found an escape and a Teacher suddenly appeared.
_____________1974
____
I escaped Texas in my mid-20’s -- a fugitive of my own life--fleeing westward into California with a dream of- I know not what.
I knew nothing useful - it was only Bible knowledge.
What I did know, I was full of in the same way foie gras is made.
(In France, ducks are force-fed until their liver bursts. In Texas, I had been force-fed religious doctrines until my spirit had burst.)What talents I possessed naturally I now made the focus of everything.
I would somehow become...something. Artistic something, I hoped.I knew I couldn’t go on existing--inside the narrow tunnel of the Jehovah’s Witness way of life.
Minimum wages. Door to door ministry. Lots of religious meetings. Waiting on Armageddon.I moved West to the ocean.
I sought a job as close to Art as I could find.Now, in California I could apprentice as a caterpillar and one day find my wings.
I saw an AD in the Los Angeles Times Help Wanted.
An art "factory" needed artists!
What follows is my encounter with an old Japanese man.
______
MY FIRST SENSEI
______
Miyoshi, cheerful without smiling, raised his head and nodded; setting his gaze serenely upon me.
That was the first day I saw him.The pupils of his eyes were mysterious black.
Other worldly.“Konichiwa” he spoke with a hint of smile wrapped in mischief.
His slight bow triggered a mirrored response in myself.Over the next year and a half, I’d get to know this man.
Myioshi was boxed within himself, or so it seemed.
A box within a box reveals more boxes.He was both riddle and pun and his laughter danced in my ears.
I didn’t know it at the time, but he was my first Sensei.
_____
(When the student is ready, the teacher appears. -Siddhartha-)
_____
Myoshi:
“In Life there are two ways:
1. With Nature and 2. Against--this is how our art and life are to be crafted. Traditional Japanese life is with Nature. We surrender to our place as a falling leaf surrenders to the journey of the wind.”
_____I used to go off by myself and giggle with the other artists about Miyoshi and his “fortune cookie” style of speaking.
Sometimes I’d write down his words. Why? I don’t know.
But I did keep that little pocket tablet.I see now, of course, I was an ass; indulging in mimicry of his style, thinking myself awfully clever. I missed the point entirely.
We struggle with people who are different.
We are spooked.However ...It is the role of the student to surrender to his teacher. Not in my nature, of course.
MYOSHI:
“In the Western world, men build with nails, bolts, and steel. Cities are stone canyons like fortresses in a battle for supremacy. In Japan, traditionally we build without nails, without bolts, without steel. Our houses are made from trees. The bottom of our house is from the trunk wood of trees. The top is the branches of trees.
In between, everything fits, slides, rests by clever interlocking joints, and gravity itself. Our windows are paper. Light diffuses into serenity itself.In the West, you use glass and must block direct sunlight by smothering your world in curtains and artificial bulbs and electric wires.”
______
Arriving in California was a getaway from Texas and the proximity to familiar JW settings.
My wife and three kids continued to attend meetings. I made excuses to avoid going.
I was about to make NEW friends who were NOT JW's.
Artists!
Mentors!
______“Do you have a garden?” Myioshi asked gently.
“No.”
“Without a garden, nothing in your world can grow.”
He squinted.
“Say wuh?” I was puzzled by this style of speaking.
“The garden is a lesson in contemplation.
How do you bring form into being from chaos? How does water flow? Nature flows, happens, shapes, and nothing can resist its power.”“Um, okay.”
“You are an Artist?”
“I feel like I am - what kind I don’t know. I’m willing to learn how to do it right.”
“Art isn’t about getting it right.”
“Well, you could have fooled me!”“A fool can learn technique. Getting it ‘right’ is the fool’s technique. Other fools are fooled by technique.”
“Okay - what is your definition of fool’s technique?”
“Duplication of form. Monkey see--monkey do. That can be learned by any fool.”
“Well, okay. Is this what Art Schools teach!”
“Not Art. Western schools teach students how to lie. A true teacher of Art must instruct his students how to see.”
“Oka-a-a-ay.”
______
BOYLE HEIGHTS California
______
I had obtained an “Art” job working in a factory churning out objects representing decorative and artistic products at a reasonable price. My place in this industry was to be the ‘monkey-see monkey-do” duplicator of wall paintings.Long rows of easels and artists churned out copies of paintings to be sold en masse as though they were valuable 'object d’art.'
I’d grab a palette, paints, brushes, and my canvas exemplar to be copied, one stage at a time.
The painting had been broken down into intermediate steps--or in-between canvas examples.
The Designers created these paintings to copied from the get-go.
It was like Arthur Murray dance studio with black footsteps on the floor indicating where to place your feet in order to learn to dance the Cha-Cha. Paint-by-number level of creativity:)
Each in-between stage required certain techniques--fast flourishes--to achieve the appearance of a ‘painterly’ final product passed off as an original. It was a hollow experience which I looked upon as an apprenticeship.
I was lying to myself.
I was filled with dreams and this was cold reality.
_____
MYOSHI:
“In Japan, the student of Art must live with his teacher day and night inside the hive with the other bees. It is also an anthill of labor as well. It is a nesting on a high cliff or a school of swimming fish in a large pond. The student is absorbed into his place as the ocean and the raincloud feed each other’s existence.”
_____TRIANGLE INDUSTRIES : NOVA ART
______
I started to love the shit factory and my new life.
It felt like the joke about the guy who swept up elephant shit in the Circus parade.
A bystander yelled at him, “Hey, why don’t you get a nicer job?”
The man with the broom shouted back, “What? Leave show business?”
____The fake paintings were--start to finish--fiction.
A false persona for a non-existent Artist with a fake name, biography and romantic tale of Dickensian struggles and conquest were crafted and attached to the paintings: a legend or story to romanticize the dreck.
All crafted into a counterfeit biography and Certificate of Authenticity. Think about it - a bogus guarantee the lie is a real one.
The unwary customer could be cajoled by the wording and adventure of it all.
We were con Artists in a real sense._____
MYOSHI:
“The Japanese way of life is to go with the wind--we bend, and not against it--or we break. China is our wind. The power of its army is irresistible. Survival wisdom is the first Art. The greatest victory is that which requires no battle. That is the art of war. It is the art of life itself.”
_____
NOVICE
_____
My art factory role at Triangle Art was a challenge for me.
I did not possess any painting technique because I was a pencil artist--a natural at portraiture.
It was a steep cliff from that to painting.I scrutinized the other artists.
I tried asking questions and that was my first mistake.Artists, for the most part, are inarticulate.
They don’t know what they know or especially why they do this rather than that. It appeared to me it was as instinctive as sneezing.
_______
MYOSHI:
“The Artist’s life is warfare. Know this first, we can know what to do and be unable to do it. A religious man knows about heaven and this makes him no earthly good. I fear this is your failing.”
______My Jehovah’s Witness life was no earthly good to me or my family. We were discouraged from higher education, ambition, achievement or innovation.
Why?
Our Jehovah’s Witness world was a Last Stand situation against invisible enemies at world’s end.
We were protagonists in a Science Fiction fantasy.
Our conventions were Comic-cons where delusion became false reality.
_______
MYOSHI:
“The student must learn to see that all of Nature and Life is change. The end of the world for the caterpillar is the birth of a new world for the butterfly.”
_____Jehovah’s Witness life is treadmill activity and hamster cage futility; an ongoing learning spiral with endless publications by the Watchtower Organization pumping out pages of propaganda.
Interior life’s flame is snuffed out, individual selves vanish, and the only focal point is the other side of the finish line at Armageddon: survival.
_____
MYOSHI:
“Art has one purpose. It is the voice inside the Artist struggling to be heard. It is the wind of change blowing against time itself; coming and becoming, knowing and going its own way. What does it say? What does it say?
It says, ‘I am. I am here. I am here for a little while. See me. Know me before I go.”
______
Jehovah’s Witnesses are like an army of janitors, repairmen, and sanitation workers.
The reward- the task in Paradise- is just more grunt work--laboring to repair the world as you become more youthful. This world, these "other people" are nothing much at all but potential customers for propaganda.
______
MYOSHI:
“Everything we do tells us our Nature. The empty heart hates aloud and spouts opinions. The sage is silent.
When the student is ready, the teacher appears.”
______Jehovah’s Witnesses imagine themselves doing a great Education bringing Bible knowledge to the dying world of mankind.
The content of their doctrine is inconstant, changeable, and fussy about little details.The phases of the moon are more predictable than the teachings of Jehovah’s people. So many ‘adjustments’ over so many years have made the garment disappear into a coat of patches and patchwork repairs.
What the religion is really all about is Loyalty to a few men who tell you what you can and can’t do. Period. End of sentence.
_______
MYOSHI:
“Art is finding simplicity and beauty in thought and deed. Nature is beautiful because it flows. Shaping to changes.
Our lives are beautiful if we surrender to that flow of time.”
_____
1963
____
I was sixteen years old when I was baptized.
I had gone to jail, prison (conscientious objector), and lost years of my life I’d never get back again.For what?
To fit in, do the right thing, please God, and teach others how to survive the End of the World.I was young, naive, and full of Absolute Belief that I had the only truth. THE truth.
______
MYOSHI:
“Catholic priests arrived in Japan; the Emperor asked these Western holy men what they wanted.
The priests explained their mission was to teach Japan about God and Jesus so that they might become Christians and avoid the fires of Hell.The Emperor sat and listened quietly, absorbing every word through his interpreter. Finally, he asked a question of the holy men.
He asked, “If the people of Japan died ignorant of your God, your Jesus, of the Bible’s teachings--would your God send my people to burn in Hellfire for their ignorance?”The priests cried, “God is gracious. He does not hold anyone accountable for what they do not know.”
The Emperor grew angry and replied, “Then why did you tell me this?”
He had them killed.”
_______ARTIST
______
Miyoshi sculpted animals out of clay to be made into statuary for homes and gardens. A mould could produce as many statues as orders written by salesmen out in the field.
Plaster animals required enlivening with the artist’s brushwork and then sealed in lacquer to a high gloss finish.
The hollow inside was filled with just enough concrete to make it heavy. In fact, the heavier the statuary, the higher the price it fetched at the market. A lightweight statue felt worthless while a heavy one bespoke value in the mind of the consumer.
_____“There are commands of the sovereign which must not be obeyed.”
― Sun Tzu, The Art of War
______I left the Kingdom Hall of Jehovah’s Witnesses for the last time in tears and it took me another thirty years of struggle to scrape their ways from my bones and marrow.
My thoughts and dreams started to excrete poisons and I became reactive and craving for the rigid certainty and habitual predictability. Odd reactions, back and forth--until it faded and my natural mental health blossomed.
I spoke up. Spoke out when questioned.
The ultimate insubordination to the old life. I embraced my new life.
______
LAST CONVERSATION with MYOSHI
_____
The last time I spoke to Miyoshi, was the day I left to begin a new adventure in an etching studio across the city.Miyoshi took hold of my sleeve and walked me off to a quiet corner of the factory.
His head was bald on top with grey hair hanging on the sides and back. His beard and mustache would have done Hollywood proud. His bushy eyebrows fluttered like flower petals in a breeze as he spoke and his dark eyes glimmered.“You asked me once why I work here instead of my own studio. Why do I not have my own atelier with my own students? I have never answered you.”
“Yes. I figured you’d tell me when you were ready. Are you ready?”
“No.”
I laughed.
Myoshi had a tremendous mischief in his humor. His bursts of insight always carried a laugh. He told me it was like serving a small slice of orange at the end of a heavy meal. The last taste cleanses the palate and leaves a sweet tang.“My family died in the war (WWII). I was sent away to Art school in Europe at the time. My father had saved money for years to pay my way. Art saved my life from the atomic bomb which incinerated my mother, father and two sisters. When I say, my life is Art - it has deep meanings.”
His unexpected words at that particular moment were paralyzing to me--like a jolt of electricity. I am seldom at a loss for words--this was one of those times.
“When I received the news, I performed a Buddhist funeral ritual. Today, with your leaving, it is a little death to our friendship. Not sad, of course. But--I would tell you of this ritual and its message is a parting gift. Yes?”
____
My intention was a casual goodbye. It was almost a mere formality for me, I confess.
Miyoshi did not take life in such a throwaway fashion.I nodded in answer to his question and he leaned into say barely loud enough for me to hear--but not loud enough that I didn’t have to strain.
“We write the story of life with our finger upon a tablet of water. Paint the beauty of love in our deeds. We pass, like the river, once through this world of light and shade.
All which remains is our Art on the canvas of hearts. The people who are friends.”And we shook hands. We bowed.
I went straight to the restroom in tears. I wrote down his words. Last night I found my little tablet from the old days. There he was, a portrait in words for my first Sensei.
Yet, already there - his words - on my tablet of heart.
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6
My Father's Last Words
by Terry inmy father's last words_______in 1972, i was 25 years old following a strong impulse carrying me 1,500 milesaway from home in fort worth, texas.i intended to find him - my dad.
he’d left when i was about half a year old.his home in detroit, michigan had been the first house i lived in at age zero.
i knocked on his door and he answered.
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Terry
We learn our limits as we live and make choices. To do what seems good, but at the same time being flawed, we'll hurt others even trying to do our best.
At one time all of us here tried to "serve Jehovah" and we thought it was best. But in living our lives that way, we discovered we were hurting ourselves and even the people we tried to help - so - we became Apostate trying to do a corrective "right thing" and in so doing hurt more people. (A much smaller hurt compared with the larger one.)
So, I take it to mean: we don't know ourselves starting out - but we try and try and learn by the harms along the way - even while doing our best.
Why do people marry and then divorce?
Why do other people stay married even though they are miserable?
Which is best? And who is it best for?
These are life's imponderables. All we can really ask of a person is to do "their best".
