
One of my favorite quotes is “What knowledge is there that is greater than kindness.” When I first heard this thought, it literally rocked my universe. I was brought up to believe that knowledge was the greatest treasure of all. Knowledge was power. Knowledge could make you a King or Queen or President. Knowledge was everything. Knowledge fed IQ and people with higher IQ’s were more successful than people with lower IQ’s. Books were the source of knowledge. Books were like Campbell Soup. Knowledge condensed into a compact form. All I had to do was open a book, read, and get knowledge that would make me smart and powerful.

I completed my Ph.D. I was the first one in my family to go to college let alone get a Ph.D. After finishing my Ph.D. dissertation, I took the Mensa test and joined the organization. I thought I had just about reached as high as possible in self-development. I had two certificates to show how smart I was. Then I heard about Emotional Intelligence (called EQ by Daniel Goldstein who pioneered the concept). EQ surprised me because truth be told, I thought there was something still missing in in my life. I had an IQ of 137 but my EQ was more like zero. I did not have much compassion or sympathy for lazy people, stupid people, dishonest people and loads of people who did not live up to my expectations. I decided that I needed to work on my EQ and downplay the role of IQ in my life.
I realized that as another famous quote goes “Knowledge helps you to make a living, but wisdom helps you to make a life.” Wisdom is a combination of EQ and IQ and of course experience in living. This is why Native Americans value the elders in their societies. The elderly should have (but sadly often do not today) the experience and wisdom that can help guide the young. I wanted to seek out more things that would help me to learn compassion and wisdom. Over the years, my forty retreats, various support groups and readings have helped me to gain a better understanding of the need for EQ. I thought I was doing well until just recently.
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Karen and I have had our quarrels and disagreements over the years. They have become less frequent after three weekends at Marriage Encounters, numerous trips to a marriage counselor, and more “family meetings” than I can count. We have now been married over 34 years and most of it very happy despite some rough spots. I will honestly and humbly admit though that without some counseling and the three marriage encounter weekends we attended that we might not still be together.
Nevertheless, we still have the occasional spat, and they usually leave us both feeling quite depressed and disappointed. I am mostly disappointed with myself for not handing things well. It seems I too often say things or discuss things very differently than we have agreed on. We have found and used many models for dealing with conflict. One of our favorites is the “DESC” model. This stands for “Describe” what is happening in neutral terms. Talk about how this makes you feel in terms of “Emotions.” “Specify” what you would like to see happen differently. Define what the “Consequences” will or could be for change. Consequences are best provided that are positive, such as we will feel closer together. When we stick to this model things seem to go well. Our discussions stay on track and our resolutions come more effortlessly. When we stray from the model, accusations and insinuations escalate and the discussion becomes difficult if not painful.
After one of our arguments the other day, I had a sudden insight that was the inspiration for this blog. I have noticed that I try to do a lot of things for Karen. I help her take her instruments to her music sessions. I do a lot of the shopping. I do dishes and laundry. I help her in and out of the car. I sometimes wonder how she could not feel totally loved. She in turn does a lot of things for me but somehow, I often feel unloved. Out of the blue, I realized that we both try to show our love by doing “things” for each other. However, when it comes to emotional displays that show love, it seems harder for each of us.
My insight was that there are two kinds of kindness. One I will call “Physical Kindness.” Doing things that are physical and overt for another. Taking the garbage out. Cooking or baking the things that your partner loves. Running errands for each other. Giving nice gifts. These are all examples of what I would call “Physical Kindness.” I think I am very good at these things as is my spouse.
The other kind of kindness I will call “Emotional Kindness.” This is not doing things but saying things either verbal or non-verbal that honor and appreciate the other person. It respects their feelings more than their actions. It might be “I love you” or it might be an appreciation of something the other person says or thinks. It is building up the other person’s self-esteem and not putting down anything they might express or care about.
Upon more reflection, I could see that there are many times when I am not “Emotionally Kind.” I ignore or miss opportunities for empathy and emotional support. Telling someone that “When the going gets tough the tough get going” or “There is no try, there is only do or do not” are examples of my previous “emotional support.” I should not have been surprised that Karen was never smitten by these suggestions. Perhaps I should retire these two maxims from my lexicon. I know I need to learn more varieties of Emotional Kindness.

The lesson I have learned, and I hope that this blog somewhat illustrates is that kindness can take many forms. I have talked about two that are salient to me now. There is a good book worth reading called the “Five Love Languages.” It is written by Gary Chapman. This book teaches that there are several ways to transmit your feelings of love to others. Just as different people have different preferences for how they learn, the same is true for love and kindness. You must learn what the recipient of your intended love or kindness resonates with. It is like finding the right channel on a radio. You must dial it in correctly or you can not connect.


Once upon a time a mother had two daughters. The Mom’s name was Teresa. The oldest daughter was named Romela, and the younger daughter was Amelia. At the time of this story, the oldest daughter was 20. Amelia had just turned 18. Teresa was 45 and a single mom. Their father had been gone for ten years after running off with their babysitter. Teresa never remarried or even dated. She was a rather plain looking woman. Marriage had taught her that men preferred sex appeal over brains, beauty over character and youth over age. She tried to teach these lessons to her daughters and kept a close watch on both.







What does anxiety and uncertainty have to do with planning? This is an important connection. Uncertainty in my opinion either causes or leads to anxiety. The more uncertain we are, the more anxious we become. Many people will not attempt new endeavors, leave home, eat new food, travel to new places, meet new people, take on adventures or worst of all “listen to new ideas.” The uncertainty of these efforts creates anxiety. The unknown consequences of doing something new brings some anxiety to most of us. Change and newness can impinge on our efforts to maintain equilibrium and homeostasis in our lives. New things can disrupt the natural order that we so carefully craft to protect ourselves, our family, and our identities. “What if” can bring fear and panic to even the most courageous of us.
However, when it comes to anxiety my solution is planning. Karen would say I plan too much. I don’t need to go raging into the night of old age, but I do not want to get in my crypt yet and turn off the lights. Life has a way of closing in on us. The curtains for each of us are indeed coming down and will someday be down for all of us, but we can slow their coming down. As we age, we must push back. Planning can help us to hold the curtains off for a little while longer. But remember, “Plans are nothing, but planning is everything.”
My theory is that I have been driven to reduce anxiety because I grew up with an abusive father. My childhood was a daily diet of fear and uncertainty as to when or how badly my father would fly off the handle and take it out on me. He might have had a bad day at the races, or something went wrong with his car, and it was all my fault. So many things became my fault that I was always looking up expecting the sky to fall on me. I looked under my bed and, in my closet, every night before going to sleep as a kid. Years later I would check under my car and in my back seat before getting in my vehicle. I never let anyone get on the inside track of me when walking down a sidewalk and I always look over my back when going to a public John. I am not paranoid, and I do not think anyone is out to get me. I simply want to be certain that I have an advantage just in case someone might be out to get me. 😊 Karen has learned to cope with my rather bizarre behavior and attributes it to my intrinsic anxiety.



The “Good Old Boys” of modern country music started in the seventies telling us that rural people were good people. That real life took place in rural areas. Cities were evil. Rural people were God fearing and patriotic. City people were heathens and atheists.
Donald Trump’s anthem was a song by Lee Greenwood called “God Bless the USA.” Under more normal circumstances, I would applaud this song. Greenwood won the Country Music Association’s award for Male Vocalist of the Year in 1983 and 1984, and his “God Bless the USA” had been awarded the CMA’s Song of the Year honors in 1985. However, when welded by Trump and his supporters it evokes overtones of racism and xenophobia. What else can you think when you see people marching around with Swastikas and Confederate Flags singing “God Bless the USA?”
“This practice is no certain note of patriotism. To instigate the populace with rage beyond the provocation, is to suspend public happiness, if not to destroy it. He is no lover of his country, that unnecessarily disturbs its peace. Few errors and few faults of government, can justify an appeal to the rabble, who ought not to judge of what they cannot understand, and whose opinions are not propagated by reason, but caught by contagion.” — The Patriot, by S. Johnson, 1774.




A friend of mine once told me that you catch more flies with sugar than you do with vinegar. Over the years, I have been told that I am too negative. I have been labeled as a pessimist who more often sees the bad things in life rather than the good things. I have been accused of being a skeptic and even a nihilist. I have decided to turn over a new leaf. I am determined to share more positive thoughts in my blogs. I want you to see the world as a wonderful place full of joy and good will. I was going to start my new focus next year, but I decided “why wait.” “He who hesitates is lost.” Thus, I give you the secret to living the life that I am sure you want to live. Just BE:
Happy. Happy. Happy. Happy. Happy. Happy. Happy. Happy. Happy. Happy. Happy. Happy. Happy. Happy. Happy. Happy. Happy. Happy. Happy. Happy. Happy. Happy. Happy. Happy. Happy. Happy. Happy. Happy. Happy. Happy. Happy. Happy. Happy. Happy. Happy. Happy. Happy. Happy. Happy. Happy. Happy. Happy. Happy. Happy. Happy. Happy. Happy. Happy. Happy. Happy. Happy. Happy. Happy. Happy. Happy. Happy. Happy. Happy. Happy. Happy. Happy. Happy. Happy. Happy. Happy. Happy. Happy. Happy. Happy. Happy. Happy. Happy. Happy. Happy. Happy. Happy. Happy. Happy. Happy. Happy. Happy. Happy. Happy. Happy. Happy. Happy. Happy. Happy. Happy. Happy. Happy. Happy. Happy. Happy. Happy. Happy. Happy. Happy. Happy. Happy. Happy. Happy. Happy. Happy. Happy. Happy. Happy. Happy. Happy. Happy.





I come back into myself and say, “Let’s take a walk.” It is a beautiful day and a beautiful town, and everyone likes the idea. We pay our respective bills, head to the bathrooms, and meet outside. I suggest we walk the path alongside the river to PD Pappy’s than turn left onto Main Street where we can walk by the various tourist shops. We head to an old antique store that we last visited almost a year ago to the day. We spend a good hour or so in the store. We see oodles of things that bring back memories from our childhoods, our old dreams and our wish-we-had-done that pasts. We leave having bought nothing except a wistful yearning for the “Good Old Days.” Pre-Trump. Pre-Covid. Pre-Climate Change. Pre-Divisive Partisanship. A time when we could still believe in the American Dream.
As we walk down main street, Roger tells me that he has seen a show recently that looks at the symbolism in the Catholic Church with a deep sense of skepticism. He asks me if I think the Catholic belief in Jesus would be much different if Jesus had been garroted or beheaded rather than crucified. I confess that I have never thought about this question, but I do find it intriguing.
It is now almost three hours since we met for dinner. We are talked and walked out. I am ready for my afternoon nap. Karen wants to get back to her sewing. Jane is tired of listening to us and wants some peace and quiet. Roger is still thinking about God and whether there is other life in the universe. We both seem to have come to the same counter-intuitive conclusion that there is not. We are all alone in the universe except for a few Martians left over from the great Martian cataclysm.



So maybe we should not be too hard on the Chinese. But “wait” you will say, didn’t they send a spy balloon over our country. Like a giant piñata it floated across our vast continent taking pictures of “who knows what.” I think it would be easier to get pictures of the USA off Google Images but maybe they like doing things the hard way. We shot the balloon down and I am still waiting to see the results from the FBI investigation into the stuff that was in this balloon. I would like to see some of the pictures they took. Any information about this seems to have mysteriously disappeared from the media. Can you believe that they are spying on us? We certainly would not be spying on them, would we? One source which I should not divulge but I will anyway had the following to say about our efforts:


