When September Ends

Greetings, Friends ~

September has always been a great month. My father celebrates his birthday on the 3rd, and that special birth date is shared by my nephew. It is a unique day for our family since he was the first grandchild. A few days later on the 8th, my beautiful daughter celebrates her entrance onto the planet. Also special, as she is the only granddaughter my parents have and was a much-anticipated addition almost 19 years ago. September 27th is my (late) son’s birthday, which means all three of my parents’ grandchildren were born on the same page of the calendar.

To add, Oregon Septembers force a change in seasons. Leaves plenty begin to change colors and a new landscape is painted by the time October arrives. The country scape becomes even more breathtaking as oranges, reds and yellows are littered among the many shades of green resident in the great Willamette Valley. It is quite a spectacle to witness. September is nestled comfortably between the sizzling apex of West Coast summer heat and the impending rains of Fall and Winter.

2013 will be even more outstanding as the year’s tenth month approaches. At the tail end of writing my first nonfiction book, that accomplishment will mean I have written two full-length books. The first, being a yet-unedited novel, which I finished writing last summer. I recall the feeling of great satisfaction putting my quill aside after aptly crafting the last chapter. Both books will see publication in the months ahead.

For now, I am so busy that I am feeling a burn-out in most areas of my life. Considering I am a hardcore workaholic, that takes some doing. But I can see the light at the end of the tunnel. It will reach me, illuminating my hard work on a project most would think difficult to complete (they would be right). It has been a great month so far but there is much left to do. I will breath a sigh of relief when September ends.

Be well,


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Just Beyond the Tree Line

Greetings, Friends ~

Few things in life give me greater joy than sitting outside in the morning hours, writing. The air is clean, birds are singing and life on this planet is gifted another fresh start. Writing is good at day’s end, too. When the sun is falling, the sky lights up with color representing the many pictures life painted during the daylight hours.

Sitting here sipping my coffee, I am feeling somewhat nostalgic. To the left, there is a wooden fence encasing the yard which divides two properties. It reminds me that we live in a country where we can have our own space to create a sanctuary.

I recall in my teenage years, my family lived in a house situated on a property so remote that there was no need for a fence. The closest neighbors were further down the gravel road that stretched a good distance in both directions.

Early on, I followed that road till it made a sharp turn, but I did not continue. Determined to see what was hidden beyond a thick tree line visible across a large field, I veered off and began walking to those trees. I am certain that field is not as big as it appears in my memory, but back then, it was a long way there.

Just beyond the tree line, there was a rock-and-sand beach which was perfectly decorated by Mother Nature. Trees and bushes that grow plentiful in the Pacific Northwest had been carefully placed. They framed a peaceful setting near the moving water. At first discovery, I made a mental note that this would be my space. I did return, journal-in-hand.

Evenings too great to count, I sat on the river’s edge crafting poetry, drawing pictures and scribing goals for my future. Many of those early writings still exist in a worn out binder. Over 30 years later, I read those penciled creations of my youth. I remember my goals too, many of which are now accomplished.

That tree line, the endless field leading me to it and the peaceful place at the water’s edge are forever burned in my mind as the birth place of my writing. I continue to actively search for such areas. I grab my camera and record the beauty that exists there, and I write.

In Oregon, these paradises lie in every direction and are too many to count. When my world gets too busy, my journal and I leave the scape of the city looking for such a place. I never have to go far to find my “just beyond the tree line.” I am blessed that way.

Be well,


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Just Keep Breathing – Excerpt From My Book

Greetings, Friends ~

My book is nearing completion as my deadline approaches. This work is not yet formally edited.

Be well,


Light and Darkness

In every storm, either the sun or the moon will force its light through even the darkest clouds. Gentle rain falling this side of sunlight casts the most beautiful colors imaginable, and a rainbow is the result of just one, single drop. In a time immediately following a significant loss, you may not see it.

When they roll in, we can focus on the cold rain coming down, or we can search for the light behind it. The light does still exist. With it, it brings hope of new life that grows abundant after the air has been swept clean. It is easier to breathe after a storm passes. But it may be awhile before one remembers that good things stayed intact. It took a long time for me to shift my focus after Lewis’ death.

Early on, my experience was that nothing would get better. I believe that is the same for most people who experience the death of someone close to them.

The time following my son’s passing was filled with my daughter and me at home together, keeping everything perfectly quiet. The brain can only process so much at a time, and we were both trying to get our heads around what happened.

Alexis needed to return to school so she didn’t fall behind. Just months prior, she’d started her high school Junior year on crutches due to some significant medical issues which were new to her. She hadn’t even completely healed from her last surgery when her brother died.


Those were times that seemed like the most brutal of days, filled with misery and pain that would not end. So much emotional pain, in fact, that one cannot imagine it. Were it not for my daughter and family, I would have preferred to just stay back in the moments where my son would forever be frozen in time. I did not want to carry on or move forward. It was simply too hard.

I quickly realized that I had an unsolvable problem. This could not be undone. It would not be resolved. It could not be fixed. The pain was not leaving, and grief had a tight grip on me.

Sleep continued to elude me. When I did fall asleep, I noticed that my dreams were no longer filled with both my daughter and my son. He was absent. Even recurring dreams of my past years with both of my kids had changed. Now, it was only me and my daughter in those same dreams. How on earth could that be? It was confusing to me, given the stigma of religion and suicide. Why was he all of a sudden absent in my dreams? That was beyond cruel.

There came a night when I begged aloud for Lewis to visit me, if only in my mind while I slept. I pleaded to feel his energy so that I knew he had continued on in some way. I asked God, my higher power or whatever was left of goodness to send me a sign that he had, in fact, gone somewhere. I desperately needed that confirmation of what I believed. Yet, there was just silence. I could not feel anything except pain, guilt and sickness.

He was gone.

~ ~ ~ ~

Copyright 2013, Jana Brock. All rights reserved. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited.

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Mystic Sky

When I was just a very young girl, I began writing what I refer to as backward poetry. Of all the thousands of pages I have written over the years, those closest to my heart are my poems.

Following is one I wrote for my daughter when she was about 10 years old. She loves it still.

Mystic Sky

Fly around in the days of old
The flatterwings and the merrygold
All the winged maids flitting by
Overhead in the mystic sky.

The butter angels and whiskerbeads
Marmaladen and schmidgens feed
The piggys feet hide out of sight
Creep out of caves in dark of night.

Lightening bugs against the black
Illuminate, flying forth and back
Skeetereats hop here and there
Till day brings heat to the morning air.

Bees bumble as the sun comes up
Buzzing around the buttercup
The lionsdandy prances by
To join the dance in a mystic sky.

Copyright 2004, Jana Brock. All rights reserved. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited.

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Good and Evil


I saw this quote a few days ago on a friend’s Facebook page. It was by Martin Luther King, Jr. It said, “There is some good in the worst of us and some evil in the best of us.” Because it is my nature to analyze just about everything, I started reading and thinking about this very interesting message.

Who decides what separates good from evil, anyway? The bible? Laws? Our government? Our parents? Perhaps a little of all those things.

For me, it’s simple. “Good” people do not hurt other people. Even as I type this, I can hear the distant, faint and heavy sighs of my readers as they whisper, “We have all hurt others”. True. So, let me expound on a few generalized standards I have on this subject.

Perhaps better stated: Good people do not intentionally hurt other people. That is not to say that good people do not make mistakes. We do. But when we have hurt someone, we apologize like all the rest of the grown ups in the room. And we do our best to make it right. We don’t have to be asked to do the right thing. We just fix it, not only for ourselves but for the benefit of another. In that, we also sometimes even apologize to those who are undeserving and have actually wronged us in some way. Why? Because that is what good people do. They value the feelings of other people over their egos.

Evil seems pretty straight forward as well. It is the opposite of good. Only evil people cause others pain with intention. They generally do not apologize, unless an underlying agenda exists. They hurt others and cause damage between relationships in order to gain something themselves. They do not care who they hurt in the process of getting what they want. Often, they are surrounded with people just like them. They, of all people, generally speak about partners or friends in their past as having wronged them entirely, with no admission of their own faults or wrongdoings. And they are great pretenders. Every. Single. One.

Can you imagine a serial killer apologizing for his crimes against the humans he has slain and then making it right? Random example, but you get the gist. It doesn’t ever happen without force. And that means, the remorse stems from getting caught, not from being truly sorry for his actions. Evil.

I am reminded of my more religious beginnings, back in a time when I studied the bible daily. I recall scriptures that spoke of men who could deceive even the nations. Those who look good publicly but cannot be trusted. Wolves in sheep’s clothing. Though I am not a religious person now, I wish I had learned a little more about discernment back then.

I agree with MLK, Jr. There is good in the most evil of people. Conversely, there is a little evil in the best of us too. In every human there lives love, hate, trust, betrayal, disloyalty, honesty, dishonesty and other opposing qualities and emotions. My experience is that even the worst behaviors can come from someone who is not prone to misbehave if they are put into the right situation – a perfect storm.

Let us stay away from the storms of life, or at least do a better job of seeing them while they are still on the horizon.

Be well,


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Everyday, Everywhere

Good Morning, Friends ~

Every single day there is beauty all around us. We only need to realize the great things and people that exist in our lives for them to appear more prominent than ever before. If you are hurting or things do not seem to be going your way, get out and drive to a beautiful place and start naming all the lovely and peaceful things this planet has provided to us. Be thankful for the blessings, love, pain, successes, lessons – all of it.

Every one of us is on our way to somewhere. The journey is worthwhile and filled with experiences intended to help us arrive there safely.

Be well,



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Just Keep Breathing – Exerpt From My Book

Greetings, Readers ~

Here is another excerpt from Just Keep Breathing. This work is not yet formally edited.

Be Well,

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The officer returned a half-smile and nodded. Taking a slow breath, he paused and surveyed the room before he spoke to me.

“I regret to inform you that your son, Lewis, has passed away.”

I felt nothing. He was wrong, just like my family had been wrong. A split second later, something inside me began to give way, but I still fought it. I intended to correct this officer, the man that accompanied him, and my family.

I simply shook my head and said, “No.”

He nodded and then lowered his head again, shuffling the piece of paper he held in his hands. For a moment, the room fell silent. It felt like time suspended itself between him and me. I could no longer hear the clock ticking. I do not know how much time passed before I spoke, I just know that something within me shifted and I began to plead.

“You know, Lewis has a friend that looks just like him. Tall, red hair. People get them confused all the time. This could be a mistake in identity.” Desperately fighting the emotional blow that I knew was coming, I silently begged for this not to be my truth.

I looked intently at him, waiting for him to doubt the information he’d been given. But even as the words left my mouth, I knew. My mind had done everything in its power to avoid a fall over the emotional cliff I had been standing near all day. Despite its protective efforts, I fell anyway. I was betrayed by the branches I had been clinging too. That foliage was strong, and it had been intentionally placed in my mind so that I could not be hurt by such horrible things. They all broke at once, and I sank into a darkness that intended to consume me.

He very politely, but directly, responded. “We are sure it is your son.”

I desperately looked around the room at my family for someone to tell him he was wrong, but they were stronger than me. Resolved. Waiting. I then realized they had asked him to come and deliver a second notification in hopes that I would be released from the denial and shock that had held me captive since the morning hours.

It worked.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Copyright 2013, Jana Brock. All rights reserved. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited.

Just Keep Breathing (Excerpt)
Author: Jana Brock

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Tin Foil and Microwaves

Greetings, Readers ~

Having recently rented an apartment to accommodate the return of my 18-year old daughter who is home on summer break from college, we are in a process of change right now. She’s been living in a dorm room on her university campus all year. She grew up quite a bit during the time she was away. There is a new wisdom about her, even at her still-young age. She knows a lot more about college-type subjects (like Math and Psychology). Our conversations are more mature than they were last year. Between college and my teaching throughout her childhood, I thought she had developed many of the major skills that she needs for life in general.

A few nights ago, she was warming up some left over Mexican food from a restaurant. It was encased in tin foil, so she decided to pop it in the microwave and heat it up. I was gone with some friends that night. Otherwise, I would have run into the kitchen yelling, “Nooooooooo!” I discovered the mishap while heating my coffee the next morning.

To get ahead on her degree, she signed up for 17 credits at a local college over her summer break. I entered her room and watched her studying for a few moments. She finally noticed me there. Brushing her long red hair from her face, she gave me a nod that I recognized as, “What’s up?”

“W-h-a-t happened to the microwave?” I was calm, but curious how a brand new microwave could suffer such a scar in the one night I had been gone. School and medical bills were the financial priority, and that would be the case for a while. There was no room for appliance failures in our budget.

She was hesitant to tell me what she had done. After her explanation of the 3-seconds-and-then-it-caught-on-fire, she gave me a worried look and asked, “I ate the food anyway. Is that going to hurt me?”

It was then I realized that my offspring, though I had struggled through her childhood to teach her everything I knew about the general topics, had absolutely no clue that metal and microwaves do not mix. I decided that life skills should be a requirement in college, just in case us parents miss something during their formative years. I had a checklist during her youth. I thought I had covered all things “need-to-know”, but one takes for granted the obvious topics, such as tin foil and microwaves.

“It will be okay,” I said as I explained to her that we do not use anything that contains aluminum or metal or silverware in a microwave.

I exited her room and hastily went over my “teach her these things” childhood checklist in my mind.

* Be kind to others – check.
* Stay in school – check.
* Develop your talents – check.
* Don’t leave the toaster plugged in – check.
* Eat healthy foods – check.

Dress appropriately; choose good friends; be leery of men who only want to use you – check, check, check.

Then I realized I had not taught her anything about the refrigerator. Is there something to teach kids about the refrigerator? I panicked. What about tin foil – can that damage a refrigerator? What about the washer and dryer? What if she plugs too many things into one outlet? My heart was racing. I became overwhelmed at the thought of all the many things I may have missed over the years.

Settling myself down, I took a deep breath and had an epiphany. I have done the best I could do over many years of child rearing, most of those years were with no father involved monetarily or otherwise. There was a tin foil incident as it relates to the microwave, and that is a pretty benign lesson to learn going into adulthood. I had done okay with her, and she is performing pretty well.

The only thing that may not have survived the misstep of my checklist is the microwave. Though it may cost me a bit to replace, it can be replaced. The lesson this taught her will stay with her through a lifetime.

Tin foil and microwaves will be a reminder to me that in the end, I have done alright, especially considering the many challenges we have faced together over her youth. We have arrived at a pretty good place, she and I. Though, it may be a while before we can heat up food without involving the stove.

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Just Keep Breathing – Excerpt From My Book

Greetings, Readers ~

I am fervently working to finish my book, Just Keep Breathing. Here is an excerpt. It is not yet formally edited.

Be well,


~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Copyright 2013, Jana Brock. All rights reserved. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited.

Just Keep Breathing (Excerpt)
Author: Jana Brock

Chapter 3: Too Much Pain

Unbeknownst to me, my son’s death would affect every area of my life from that day forward. I felt I was being forced through time. I did not want to go. The clock became my most hated adversary. It ticked away, mindlessly dragging me into a future I wanted no part of – inserting an undesired distance between his existence and mine.

Nothing felt right anymore. I did not want to talk to or listen to people outside my family. It was not safe for me to drive my vehicle. I did not go to work. I could not stand being in any public place. I stopped eating. I refused to answer most of my calls and text messages. I had to force myself to bathe and get dressed each day. Sleep was almost nonexistent and that made everything worse. Neither my daughter, nor I, wanted to hear background music or television, which was atypical of how we had always lived.

There were unintended consequences for my 16-year old daughter, too. Fear nearly immobilized me when she would leave my sight. I had raised her to be independent and responsible, but I knew she was not safe unless she was with me. If I kept her home, no one would ever show up at my door and give me news that brought with it too much pain. But she had to get back to high school and continue her studies. Though my brain knew this, I could not reason my way through it. I began experiencing panic attacks when she would leave, which was a new problem for me. The level of fear I had about her being away was emotionally crippling.

My brain was working 24 hours a day trying to put things back in their place, but the effort was exhausting and futile. The pieces that were the puzzle of my life would never fit together again. Life was something different now. Even in broad daylight, everything felt heavy and dark. I did not ask for this kind of different. I did not want it. I wanted things like they were before he died.

I begged constantly for God (or whoever was in charge of this dark planet) to turn back time to the night of his death. My son and I had been texting that evening, and he had promised to talk to me later. It is the only time I remember him not keeping his word.

I did not get to say goodbye.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Copyright 2013, Jana Brock. All rights reserved. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited.

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Here, In Paradise


It is just after midnight. I didn’t quite make it to the witching hour before the weight of an impossible to-do list jolted me awake. I am reminded that time is a competitive racer. Though I travel in the fast lane, the clock has a secret bypass. I cannot see how to get in that lane without crashing.

I sit here writing, rewriting, chewing on pencils and throwing wadded-up drafts across the room. They did not read well and deserved their consequence. Perhaps they will behave on rewrite. This accounts for my free time, which has become too scarce lately. I also work at my day job which consumes more than 40 hours most weeks. Keeping things going around the house is almost impossible, and my daughter returning home for her well-earned summer break beckons more adjustments. Even my fun time seems like it is laden with responsibilities and things I must do. I imagine the gods think I’m crazy, watching me multitask between the most important of priorities. The lesser fall by the wayside. I will get to them later.

I can’t complain too much. I have a good life with an amazing family and the best friends anyone could hope for. My colleagues and I are all well employed. There is a roof over my head. I have heathy food to eat and clothing on my back. As a bonus, every single time I turn on the facet, clean water comes out. The list of blessings continues and is lenghty.

Knowing myself, I will check another “to do” off my list before chasing the sandman down, edit and post this blog mid-afternoon, and repeat these habits again tomorrow. Even considering my continuous lack of sleep, things are pretty great here in paradise.


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Forward Is That Direction


It is Sunday.

I am sitting outside in one of my favorite spots, writing. The back yard view is of beautiful green trees that boast new life, bright flowers planted earlier this Spring and that particular shade of blue that is a new day’s Oregon sky. Cars are passing just beyond the side yard. I don’t mind the traffic noise. It has become oddly comforting to me and whispers that our planet’s life is moving forward. I am going with it.

The storm in my life that had me unraveled the past months has passed. For that, I am grateful. I am stronger than ever and heading toward some major goals as a writer. Getting back on my intended path is a welcome feeling I intend to more fully embrace than I have in the past. That path is littered with blessings well within my reach.

The book I am presently finishing (Just Keep Breathing) is becoming known and anticipated. It’s Introduction has gone outside this country’s borders already, and I have received messages from people as far away as The United Kingdom asking when they can buy a copy. That, in itself, is a success I have received with open arms. I am ready for more.

Writing this book is not the easiest thing to wake up to each morning because it forces me to, once again, face the reality that I brought two amazing children onto this planet. When all is said and done and my journey here expires, I will be exiting my life saying goodbye to only one. The subject matter is harsh. Cruel. Difficult. It concerns the suicide of one’s own child, and that is a very dark place from which to write.

Many surviving parents left to deal with such a significant and complex loss have started their own publications, but they lay unfinished gathering dust in the depths of unused closets. I understand why, but that will not be the case with mine. Though I have always been self-motivated, the good people I surround myself with are pushing me forward and reminding me that my story needs to be told. And so, it will.

Alongside writing priorities, there is much to do. My daughter is just finishing her first year at Oregon State University. I remain her biggest cheerleader – an engine stoked to push her through the remaining years of formal education. Fellow writers are writing, and I can encourage them too. They each have a story to tell, and it needs to be written. The great universal law of give and receive is at full play in my life now. I am supporting good people, and they are supporting me. Together, we will arrive in a well accomplished future.

Life has its challenges, indeed. But there is beauty and goodness around each of us. We need only to notice it there and remember that even in stormy weather, the blue of every sky is just behind those clouds. It will become visible again. Maybe it can be seen even through the darkest of skies, if we look hard enough.

As my loved ones have said repeatedly over the past few years, “Forward is that direction.”

Let’s go there.


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I Am Writing

Good Evening, Writers and Readers.

After a several-month vacation from working on my book (Just Keep Breathing), I have finally made it back to seeing it as a priority. My deadline for writing is July 31. I am nearly there, and need only finish 2 chapters (a complete rewrite of both). After that, I gather all my confidence, stuff it in an envelope with the manuscript and send it off to an editor. I am hoping to see it in print by end of 2013. In fact, my goal to have the first bound copy in-hand is December 30, 2013. Once the book is published, everyone will know the significance of that date. It will be published – widely. I will make it so.

I have other books in progress too. Last Fall, I took 10 days off work to finish writing my first novel (which is the first of a trilogy). My novels fall into the supernatural genre. I like writing about the unreal. The stories come from a large file drawer in the recesses of my mind, so there are no boundaries. Fact-checking is irrelevant, largely.

I did complete the writing in that first novel last year and then put it away for a few months (fellow novelists know why you need to do that). My first novel is called, The Rose Wall. It still needs formal editing. Perhaps a rewrite of the last chapter might also be in order.

I am entering my novel in a contest early next March, so it will become my writing focus after Just Keep Breathing goes to edit. The other two novels in that trilogy are already outlined, and the second novel has a good two chapters written already. A year from now, things will be much different for me in the context of my craft.

Let’s finish some books this year, shall we?

Be well,


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Life’s Defeat

Greetings, Readers ~

Thumbing through my handwritten journal, I found this short poem. Like much of my writing, it was probably scribed sometime after midnight when I should be sleeping. Those nights are plenty. It is raw writing, as is much of my unpublished poetry, but descriptive of how I have been feeling lately.

This was almost a year ago. Today, I feel the same as I did then.

Be well,


~ ~ ~ ~ ~


How dare the winds
Of fate blow through
A heart that mourns
The loss of you

A life that ended
A willing choice
The reaper, meet

It lay its dark
On light’s front step
The sun that lit
Away, it swept

The veil of night
Forever more
Casts its shadow
At my door.

Copyright 2012, Jana Brock. All rights reserved. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited.

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The World is a Web

Greetings, Readers ~

I have recently been monitoring the news, which is highly uncharacteristic of me. With the state of the economy and decline of our once-great country, curiosity about “why” has me searching for answers. Following my review of current issues and the way they are presented to the masses, I am reminded of why I am a “shake the web” type of person.

For those unfamiliar with my web-is-life analogy, I view the world this way. Our actions are like a huge spider web. The web I weave in my life has many strands which are made up of my lifestyle, decisions and actions. My web represents how I live my life, and how I treat others. When I do something, it shakes my web. It can also immediately shake the webs of those people I care for because many parts our webs (lives) are woven together.

Additionally, there are strands on my individual web that connect my life to the bigger web, which is the world’s web. Hence, my actions “shake the web” not only for my own life, but in the big picture too.

People in higher political leadership positions shake the web in a much more significant way by virtue of the fact that their decisions and actions often affect the masses. My observation, and I believe the observations of many others, is that they have somehow lost the vision of what is best for this country. Not only are they shaking the web in a negative way, they are literally taxing it to the point where it will fail to sustain life as we know it. We know what happens when something too heavy gets into a web. The structure is either permanently damaged or rips apart completely. On our present path, the damage is already obvious. There is no good excuse for humans to behave in such a way, without regard to the generation behind ours.

Try as I may to view our political and economic situation positively, I can only see a great divide between people the past many years made up of the right and the left. There are other affiliations amidst, but those two are sucking up the air in every room. The ongoing debates, arguments, put downs and other negative actions are not making anything better. Every sane human being knows that fighting about things improves nothing.

And it never will.

We teach our children to get along and play nice together. Though our schools are cracking under the pressure of a breaking system, the good educators still teach the young ones to get along and work as a team. In our jobs, we work together for the boss or system’s common goal. Meanwhile, the politically-educated “adults” who are in the know keep on fighting. This is hypocrisy at its best.

We could just tell the truth about what is occurring but that is risky business today, especially depending on your chosen career. The growing “PC” rules that exist in our society prevent us from telling the whole truth. This is unfortunate, because most people know that telling the truth immediately and permanently solves a myriad of problems. The rules surrounding what is and is not “politically correct” are governing us right into unfathomable failure. This need not be.

Regardless the current issues of the day, my bottom line remains consistent. Without the ability to speak the whole truth, and in the absence of people’s willingness to perform those actions that are truly for the greater good, nothing can change. Actually, that’s not entirely true, is it? It can change. It can continue to get worse until this planet cannot sustain life as it should. Even if the planet itself survives, the system will continue to fail those of us who breathe life into it with our taxpayer dollars. Either way, it’s an epic failure.

I would encourage everyone to at least consider the possibility of the web as it exists in your life. Ensure that when you make your decisions and take action, it is not only beneficial for you but also for those around you. If our actions benefit us at the cost of others (or the masses, which is the case today in the U.S. at the “top”) negativity is created. Nothing good can come back to us when we have created a web that is ripped and falling apart.

And what of the future of our children? What we have created, they will inherit. No responsible parent would purposefully and willingly leave their children a broken mess. Yet, that is exactly what is happening now.

Shaking the web is a natural law, so you and I didn’t get to vote on it. It seems to work together for the greater good, when we adhere to its principles. Perhaps your God defines that for you as “reap what you sow”. Others may call it something different. Regardless the verbiage, it is all the same concept. It seems to work the same for everyone regardless of religion, politics, culture or upbringing.

In my own life, I have seen this universal law in action. I have no idea how it works, I just know it does. The good news is, I have not been commissioned by any great universal being to try to define this law and convince others that it works only in this one, single way. All I need to know is that I put out good, and good comes back to me. I do my best to make decisions that are best for not only me, but those around me as well. That said, there are circumstances when we must make a decision for our own good that vicariously hurts someone else. Generally, those types of circumstances arise because of us putting ourselves in a situation that has become unhealthy for us. Even so, the grown ups in the room try their best to resolve whatever issues exist before making any painful decisions that may cause consequence to another person.

If every single person were to shake the web for the greater good, I believe our lives would be more positive. That action would affect everything. As well, the current tenor of our country would improve. This country’s web has strands that are connected with other countries as well.

Imagine how our planet’s problems could clear up if each of us, individually and otherwise, always took careful consideration of what is good for not only our lives, but the other lives too.

Be Well,


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My Girl

Greetings Readers,

Nosing through some of my older, “rough” and “unrefined” writing, I came across this short poem I wrote just before my daughter entered high school. That was a few years ago. She is 18 years old now and a dorm-living college freshman. Though her university is an hour’s drive from home, my fiancé and I see her only once every few weeks.

Growing up, I consistently talked to her about the professional advantage of staying in school and how important it is that she obtain a college degree. I miss her moving through the house every day, lighting up each room as she passes. She’s just that kind of person. But she is doing exactly what she should be doing. I have become her cheerleader.

To those with children who are still at home, cherish each moment. The days of their youth quickly turn into years and before you know it, their future is here.

Be well,

~ Jana


My Girl

Gone are the days
Of bedtime books
Enter the ways
Of big girl looks

I watched her grow
Each passing day
Barbies and crayons
Fall by the way

Growing-up pains
And looks from boys
Stacked in the garage
Are years of toys

Make up and music
Older-girl things
Replace puppy licks
And dime store rings

The hours that pass
Now turn into years
Before I was ready
Tomorrow is here.

Copyright 2013, Jana Brock. All rights reserved. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited.

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