The Three Gossips - A Scarlett Rock?

  The Three Gossips
  Photograph Provided by Molly Dog Images


Here we are again.  The end of another year.  I could have spent time making up resolutions that I know I would have difficulty keeping;  or better yet, lament over the past year.  Speaking plainly, and without much detail, 2012 SUCKED.  One event, worthy of mention, was my grandson Christopher Corry turning 1 year old, following in his beautiful mother's footsteps literally, and walking ahead of schedule.  The other event was the success of my talented son, who has continued to excel in his career as a professional master chef.  So, as a parent, to be able to brag of childrens' accomplishments is a gift!


Christmas gave my husband and me a trip to one of our favorite spots on the map.  Moab, Utah offers a splendid and magical experience.  At one point in my life, alas, not too long ago, there was the ability to run through some of the hundreds of trails hidden throughout the "back 40" as well as the national parks.  The mighty "fins" that can be found within Arches, allow a weary runner a moment of respite from summer heat.  It was there, in the fins, that I could sit for moment and listen, truly listen and absorb the strength of the wind.

Truth be told, December 25th, and the days leading up to it are not my favorite time of the year.   I believe the true message of the season has been replaced by commercialism.  Every year there seems to be yet one more group that wants to erase Christmas. Most religions have their holidays, or times of year which they revere.  Hell, even we as patriots seem to bow to the Muslim holy time of Ramadan. Why can't Christians have their festive time to celebrate the birth of Christ? 

I don't have a problem with the winter solstice because it gives me hope that spring is just around the corner.  Granted, in the Rocky Mountains, spring is on the calender, but Mother Nature may have a slightly different idea.

So, when my husband surprised me with the adventure of Moab for Christmas, I did not think twice.  Brrrgh - Moab was cold.  Frigid temperatures and even snow on Christmas Eve day couldn't dissuade my husband from getting out and capturing the scenic utopia of red rocks with brilliant snow.  The glory of red rock stretching upwards to the heavens takes my breath away.  All 4 seasons of Moab still offer me the same experience, but snow atop the desert scapes is something rather unique.

So, this trip, or should I say, the glance at my husband's photographs, got me to thinking about the names of these God like monuments, all within federally funded National Parks. If certain groups or individuals expend so much energy trying to dismantle the display of a Christmas tree, or a creche in front of a courthouse, then where is the outrage with regards to the names of some of the monuments' names, inside federally funded parks?  The Three Gossips, Tower of  Babel, The Lamb, Zion's Angel's Landing, just to name a few, all have a religious connotation to them.  Hell, Zion, actually means"City of God".

Is there hypocrisy?  Yes!  Do some groups shy away from an attack on the names of National Parks, funded by U.S. tax dollars because they find such joy in visiting them, and being taken in by the grandeur of a rock column?  Were the National Parks not introduced by a President?

So, with the demise of 2012, the birth of 2013, my hopes are for more tolerance when it comes to non-violent displays of one's faith, and less pissing and moaning over a tree with lights, or a menorah and more focus on peace.

NEWTOWN, CT - GOD was there, but so was mental illness.

I suspect that no matter what I write in this entry, there will be a line drawn in the sand.  Some readers will be on the side of GOD. God absolute.  The other side will be in defense of gun control.  Defiant, adamant gun control.  Somewhere in the middle will be those who want to bring awareness to mental health and how it reaches out to every vein of society.

Ask anyone on the street if they know someone who has been affected by mental illness, and chances are, those brave enough to discuss it, will answer with an astounding YES.  The mere mention of mental illness seems to give some people pause, while others recoil.  Sadly, most Americans would rather look at other factors, such as gun control or ultra-violent videos games as plausible reasons for these heinous acts of violence, rather than entertain the other, much more documented case of mental illness.

The phrase, "Guns don't kill people, people kill people" is accurate.  So, now you are probably drawing a line in the sand.  "Oh she's one of those people".  A crazy, gun enthusiast.  Without even knowing this author, I've been branded a gun lover.  I don't love guns, so much as I believe in the 2nd amendment.  I do not love violence.  I abhor it, just as most Americans do.

I am willing to step back and look at all angles of this most recent tragedy.  Just earlier in the week, a lone gunman, someone with mental health issues, opened fire in a crowded mall in Oregon.  That gunman killed 2 innocents, along with himself.  On December 14, 2012, the unthinkable happened, and a young man with mental health issues, decided that he'd go to Sandy Hook Elementary, and open fire.  The tragedy that blasted across the news waves was horrific, mind numbing, nauseating and heart wrenching.

People process their grief in multiple ways:  Guns, mental illness, violence in video games.  Somewhere the shooter disconnects with reality, and often times hell breaks lose.  Mass murderers do not use only guns.  History shows that if someone is hell bent on committing a crime of violence, they're going to do it by whatever means available. Guns, knives, cars, bombs, etc etc. 

Hollywood must also take a certain bit of responsibility in the violence showed on the silver screen.  This is not to imply that every single violent film in Hollywood is going to drive someone who is manic, or schizophrenic to commit an act of violence. But, it plants the seeds.  So are the numerous video games which turn intelligent youth into almost catatonic zombies, after 4 hours of straight playing.

No one takes responsibility.  Pass the buck.

Someone who was at Sandy Hook School on December 14, 2012 was GOD.  He was there.  He gathered those tiny children and carried them to heaven.  He gave teachers strength and a sense of bravery, as they protected their school children from harm.  Just as there is good in this world, there is also evil; otherwise referred to as free will.  GOD combats Evil every day.  We are mere mortals who might not see it, but it's there still.

GOD doesn't live in schools much.  You will most likely find him in Churches or synagogues.  He is also present in the souls of those small children.  But we, the American people, have gone to great lengths to make sure that GOD, Christmas Trees, Menorahs, or any type of religious symbol are absent from public view, or on public land.  We've washed GOD right out of our every day lives.  Then we ask, at time of troubles, where was GOD?  Incredulous!

I pray for those wee souls.  I pray for their parents, and for the teachers who stood in the line of fire.  I pray for Adam and his mother, who he savagely murdered.  I pray for those who erase GOD from public view, for those battling mental illness, and for children who are being taken over by the growing displays of violence at every street corner, or turn of the channel.

The Demise of Hope and The Renewal of Spirit

At times, more often then I might like, I find my mind wandering.  To where I do not know.  Shades of muted violets, greys and black.  All along my path, the insidious obstacles of life seem to hurl themselves at me.  I wander past these blocks of depression and fight my way back to the top of my life.  Everyday brings another sunrise, hours of daylight, more wandering and finally, at night's first glimpse, the God given strength in knowing I have conquered yet another day.  These are the times of greatness.

We all face demons in life.  To think otherwise would be foolish.  How we go about battling the perils is up to us.  I'd like to see my world as a canvas.  Stark white paper, stretched across an artist's easel, waiting for brush strokes from the owner.  Wide sweeping strokes of  color.  Colors too vibrant to imagine as they hurt the eye to even look.

My canvas has the brilliant shades of spring.  Spring, with its rebirth of  all life - runs like a deep, blue river through my soul.  Brush strokes of violet, regal royal purple, with a dash of striking yellow, on tender blooms of  tiny flowers.  Green pokes it head through the remnants of winter's snow, and once again, my spirit is suddenly struck with the warmth of renewal and the eternal hope of yet another season blessed.

This is the hope for joy.