Mr Harris Hugged Me.

Mr Harris hugged me and the Sun came out.

The 37 minutes Mr Harris spent with me changed my life forever. He did that with listening, probing, and asking the right questions. Doing his job with grace and kindness.

Kindness is never forgotten.

Mr Harris discovered I was being underpaid with my Social Security benefits. I had signed up wrong. It means the difference of below poverty level to just comfortable.

You may remember him in your prayers tonight.

I walked out in a daze. The Sun was shining. I heard there was a rainbow, but I didn't see it.
I didn't need to see it.
Intelligence, integrity, he said he was just doing his job. The fact that he probed just a bit deeper was of invaluable service to me. Sometimes the right answer isn't the obvious answer floating on the surface. Sometimes it is deeper.

Our very own Mark Harris told me to "progress toward bliss."
Kindness and bliss are much on my mind right now Mark Harris.

"It is better to be kind than to be right." I forget where that quote comes from.

Mr Harris at Social Security was so pleased with himself he came out from behind the bullet proof glass and gave me a hug much to the astonishment of the waiting room crowd. Much to my astonishment.

I believe there is much kindness in the world and not always recognized, noticed or seen. Kindness to children, animals, the elderly, trees. Kindness in listening, helping, giving, serving, appreciating. Kindness doesn't take work. It is just a state of being.

There is a type of kindness that does take a lot of work, if you feed the hungry, adopt a hospice infant, or are an NGO in a hostile location, but it doesn't have to. Kindness doesn't come with baggage. It doesn't have a hidden agenda. It just is.

Some of my deepest regrets are when I failed to be kind.

Forever kindness is a gift we can give the world and forever make it a better place.

And Now It Begins

And now it begins -- with a hicup or two.

Retirement?
Printer is out of ink.
Pharmacy gave me the wrong prescription.
I entered the wrong account number for unemployment benefits.
VCR died.
I only used the beautiful new alarm clock Ian gave me for three weeks.
Depression is seeping in.
I waited 45 minutes to talk to the wrong 401K company.
Insomnia.
I'm running out of dishwasher soap because I'm dirtying more dishes.

Depression is in.
I can't believe how depressed I am. I need to push eight buttons to begin and can't seem to push anyone of them. All of them seem to have a roadblock I need to overcome.

I will overcome them -- I just haven't yet.

My orchid that has been naked for four months, now has two new buds on it.
I've gone on tiny walks three days in a row.
My body doesn't hurt. My smart friend told me all the tension I've been carrying around waiting for Onlineshoes to move to the final destination, is now gone.
I haven't driven on I-5 once in over a week.

My social life is ramping up.
Coffee with Mary.
Playdate with Connor.
The Rusty Pelican with James.
Northgate Mall play area to meet Hope's son. And see Hope.
Meeting friends in the similar situation and with sympathetic vibes.
Friends who understand the spot I am in.
It is all good.

I tell myself, It's okay to do it badly.

New opportunities.
Stephanie sent me a Linkedin list of possible job suggestions: all of them good and some of them I would never have thought of.
Roger had good suggestions, and a few threats.
Mary had good suggestions, and no threats.
Ian brings me nighttime coffee if he is passing our favorite barista before it closes.

Back to Social Security I go for the final piece of my insurance.
Plan D.

Who knew being retired would be such hard work.

My two favorite "hard work" quotes;
The first time I tried hiking up Elk Mountain in The Wichita Wilderness Wildlife Refuge with baby Ian on my back and Christian circling me with energy, excitement, and anticipation an old fellow passed me by and said, "Hard Verk, hard verk." Yep, he had that right.

The second is from the movie Millions where the young boy found lots and lots and lots of money, millions actually. He wanted to do good while his brother wanted to buy investment property. Towards the end, when all seems in shambles, he tells his dad. "Giving it away was hard."

The sun will come out. I'll go to back to SS, I'll complete all my required unemployment obligations and sign up properly. I'll start my clean out campaign, buy some computer ink, get a new VCR, walk, go back to the pharmacy and get the correct apparatus for diabetes monitoring, have some coffee, laugh with a friend, and possibly eat a biscuit. I have already corrected my account number.

One down and several more to go. Well one more to go: I just need to tackle the biggest bug-a-boo;
which Advantage program, which Advantage program, which Advantage program. 

I was told once the only thing you need to overcome depression is walk, talk, and write.
Seems to work for me. New emotional energy is a blessed thing.

That's all.
And a very good morning to you.

And Now It Begins

Retirement -- so far.

It is a whole new world, and now it begins, and I am part of it.

No more 3:30 AM alarm.

No more 50 mile commute.

No more Seattle traffic at all hours.

No more driving in the wind, rain, and fog.

No more $20.00 a day downtown parking.

No more hiking up the hill.

No more clocking in.

No more badges for this access or that.

No more customer problems, uncomfortable chairs, swelling ankles. angry colleagues, malfunctioning headsets or computers, bad break room coffee, Average Handling Time, quality scores, end of year self-reviews.

I thought I was ready for the end. I knew it was coming so no surprises there. I've been saggy, draggy, and la la gaggy. I can't see or hear very well, I was out of effort/energy gas, I hurt pretty much everywhere, I was distracted, sloppy, and pretty much emotionally exhausted. 

In my mind I was already gone.

~Instead~

I've been downright teary. 

It is a whole new world and I'm trying to be brave. 

No more employment.

No more money.

Retirement?

Day 1 -- not bad.

Insurance -- Social Security Office, I couldn't find a parking spot. Since it was the day after MLK Day the place was teaming. I could find a spot two blocks away, but with all the congestion inside I decided I would come back the next day. After all I am semi-retired, right?

Health -- I took a walk at the Light House Park. Not too the Light House Park but at the Light House Park. I didn't walk far but I did walk. Roger told me if I actually went to the park and got out of the car it was a successful trip. Sometimes my children are wise asses.

Beauty -- I wanted to admire the park, the water, the ferry, the mountains. All things I love. An emotional pick-me-up so to speak. 

Self-care --- haircut.

Nourishment -- QFC.

Starbuck's -- Starbuck's chai tea just because, well because it's Starbuck's and I'm semi-retired. 

I gassed up my car, signed up for un-employment, studied Social Security some more. That's when I discovered I needed one more document for SS. That's when my boss called and said I needed to come back downtown and sign the severance package. Had a cup of coffee at 7:00 PM -- whooo, I discovered it is the wild life for me. 

Day 2 -- not horrible.

The drive downtown was not crawl downtown. I left late enough, after all I'm semi-retired, that I missed the worst early day traffic soup. Signed the papers that needed signed, said good-bye to a few folks I missed the day before, said good-bye a second time to a few more folks, wandered around looking for the HR person who would complete my document that I needed for SS. Got the said document and took off North to go to SS. Did you know that on Wednesday's SS closes at noon. I was fifteen minutes late. Had a cup of coffee at 7:00 PM -- wow this is wonderful.

Day 3 -- Drove back to SS in the fog, in the rain, in the wind, early so I could get a parking spot. Third time is the charm, great I though! I waited to get inside, waited to sign in, waited to talk to the unsmiling agent who looked at me suspiciously. Squirming in my dripping coat my brain died and I forgot to ask some pertinent questions. Had a cup of coffee at 7:00 PM -- I detect a pattern here.

Day 4 -- I am NOT going back to SS today. My questions can wait until I regroup.

What now? Slow down -- I have the rest of my life to complete SS tasks, sign up for all my insurance needs, finish studying the SS info book, studying the SS website, continue trying to understand Parts A, B, C, D, Gap, Advantage and miscellaneous other aspects of being semi-retired. Yikes and Yuck. 

It was with great pleasure I threw away my decrepit pink lunch bag. No more packing lunches. 

My semi-retired goals; clear out my condo, improve health: walk, diet, get off pills. No more wishing I had the time and energy to start tossing things out. No more thinking of work schedules first. This semi-retirement stuff just might work out.

Facebook wisdom:

Have you ever noticed how people on FB take all kinds of silly/fun tests? When it comes to a test to determine alter egos I've noticed we all want to be a little bit rascally. We want to be bandits, pirates, dark souls. No one wants Opie or Aunt Bee as alter egos, we want Jack Sparrow, Darth Vader. We want to be a little bit bad, I guess to show our uniqueness to the world. We want some color in our ancestors, in our backgrounds, in our past lives. We want to claim the villain, the crown prince, the cattle rustler.  Somehow serf, slave, farmer, preacher, teacher just doesn't carry the same cache. Interesting. 

I also want to discover the internet. I do so little on the internet and other folks delve in deep and wide. Why am I so scared of it will someone tell me please? Well, besides the fact that once I downloaded some Super Heroes coloring pages for Connor and also downloaded a boat load of malware. Killed the computer, had to buy a new one, I'm on the cautious side now. No more having to pass on computer classes because they are offered on Tuesday and Thursday at 11:00 AM or Saturday seminars from 8:00 until 3:00. Or night time classes. I am now available. No more going to bed early, by golly I can stay up until 9:00 PM if I want to.

"Working hard for something we don't care about is call stress., working hard for something we love is called passion." 

I also want to release my creative beast. No more working hard for shoes.

"In the end we will conserve only what we love. We will love only what we understand. We will understand only what we are taught." 

I think I will learn something new. My first choice would be learn to drive a ferry, but I don't think the State of Washington will teach me that. Second choice would be travel to the moon, nah, I don't see that happening either. Any suggestions? I remember when Nora asked this question. Good question. I wonder how hard it is to become a barista?

I think I will take more naps. No more not napping at work.

Read a book. 

Watch a movie. I have Braveheart and Amy waiting.

I cooked a really nice FB recipe for Chicken Lemon Penne, very light with the lemon and very good.

When Jean sent me the dried corn, I remembered Janice said Jacquie makes a really good corn casserole, so I search on the internet and found a very yummy recipe for a corn casserole. I keep meaning to ask Jacquie for hers now that I have the time to do-doddle around with such worthy endeavors. Tal any new good recipes for me to try? Not ones for Julia's special diet but still healthy-ish. 

Remember the Book Challenge? Well the new book challenge book, since my eyes are cast forward, is: A book set in the future. I'm not sure which one I will choose, surely I have a book set in the future around here somewhere. 

I've turned my eyes to the future. It is a new world and I'm trying to be brave. I am a little scared, a little reflective, a little nostalgic, a little excited, a little engaged in the soft feelings of retirement -- dust to dust. 

Day 4 continued -- I think I will go to the store and buy some veggies. If it stops raining I will take a walk, a very small walk. I will have a cup of coffee this evening. I can't tell you how much I have enjoyed that evening cup of coffee. No more problems with caffeine keeping me awake. Insomnia doesn't matter anymore.

Sunrises and Sunsets don't change. Connor is still adorable. Sons are still sons. Ian is ramping up his help mom campaign. Family and friends are still sweet and sympathetic.  

I think I will have a good life or die smiling.

2015 becomes 2016

On this first day of 2016 I was a good Jan. I started the new year properly. I got up and weighed, took my blood pressure, blood sugar, medicine, breathing treatment, all the little bits to properly monitor my health. This was a signal to me and the new year beginning that I am prepared to forge ahead health wise. I felt a small satisfied moment, very small, when I realized 2016 will be a good year because I can't get any worse. "The only way," as the saying goes, "Is up".

The last day of 2015 was a good day for Jan. One of my favorite kind of days, a three son day. A perfect kind of day. Ian had the day off and was messing about. Roger was having his truck looked at by our resident mechanic, so I drove to Christian's shop to pick up Roger and Connor. Boom, boom, boom  and done and done and done.

Roger and Connor hung out for most of the day. Connor helped me bake a cake, clean off his toy shelves, and ask me a million questions, sorry a million and one questions. I introduced him to two more or less classic movies: Horton Hears a Who and Where the Wild Things Are. When I asked him if he had seen the movie WTWTA, he said "No, but I read the book." Spoken like a true progeny of mine.

I don't think 2016 will be much different from 2015.
I'll keep on quoting stuff: "Exhaustion of passion is the beginning of wisdom." Lost Horizons.
I'm not going to argue much.
I'll still spout bits of philosophy: "We aren't here for long and we aren't alone." Yes, you are passionate about your beliefs, but we have 7 billion other people to take into account also. Your commute through life isn't the only one. Yes, you are smart, but you didn't earn that. It was an accidental gift from the gene pool. Just say thank you.

A friends daughter was killed last Sunday in a car accident. She had three teen age children. The overwhelming loss feels staggering. Compassion and love and caring pours out and much of it directed at my own life, my own children, grandson, friends, family. An intense reminder of what is important.

On my death bed I don't think I am going to wish I had cleaned more, loved less.

I want to keep on learning and being surprised by life. I went trolling online for some Cope's Dried Corn. My beginning search was "Indian Dried Corn" and I was promptly directed to Asian/India cooking. Nope. Back I went to refine my search and added "American Indian Dried Corn." Still nothing, except all the decorative fall dried corn stuff  you find in craft shops showed up, and how American Indians made hominy. Then out of the corner of my eye I spied the word Cope's and remembered that was the brand name. Well, here is the surprise. Native American Indian Dried Corn soup is made with Pennsylvania Dutch/Amish dried corn. Ain't that a kick in the pants? I learned something and it surprised the heck out of me.

Family is starting to query about visiting. My favorite kind of chit chat. 2016 is wide wide open and looking for company.

If you are planning a trip to Washington please bring me some Cope's Dried Corn. I haven't gone to the big wazoo grocery store yet to try to find it locally. All though I had been looking for the spice packet to make pulled pork for years and had looked at all the wazoo groceries then SURPRISE, I found it at the corner market convenience store less than 1/4 of a mile away. Ain't that a kick in the pants?

But if you happen to take this road less traveled and you happen to bring some Cope's Dried Corn all the way to the Pacific Northwest that would make my 2016 better than 2015.

Here is to your 2016 and what ever makes it better -- or not.
Life doesn't have to be lived with big stuff all the time, smaller quieter moments count also.

I asked Connor what he liked better Star Wars or Legos. After a long thoughtful pause he concluded: combined he would have to say Legos, but not combined it is Star Wars all the way. Egad he is smart, thank you gene pool where ever/whoever you are.

The Abyss

I was having a friendly chat with Kathy Noland and mentioned my myriad aches and pains. I said I don't know where they come from. I was really doing fine, in fact I was down right smug at how little arthritis and aches and pains I had, when it seemed like all of a sudden -- wham -- I'm aching everywhere, head to foot, just like an old lady. Just like any old lady would. 

Kathy said a wise nurse told her once people don't age gracefully or gradually, aging is like stepping off into an abyss. Over the cliff I have gone. 

And on a lighter note I am an old fart. I make old references, old jokes, and listen to old music. I have old knees, old complaints, old sleep patterns, old books, old habits, and old dust. I have my old lady cane for balance and old lady house slippers so I can toddle around my home in shoes with good arch support for my old feet. I am not aging gracefully.

I had to drive to work in the wind. I hate driving in the wind.
I had to drive to work in the rain. I hate driving to work in the rain.
I had to drive to work in the fog. I hate driving to work in the fog.
Maybe I just hate driving to work like any old lady.
I will admit I am a wee bit jealous of Kathy Noland being her sweet retired self. Her sweet young retired self.


Roger was telling me he was talking to Connor and Connor was quite concerned that Santa wouldn't find him this year. He will be so many places: Mom's, Dad's, Papa's and Gramma's, and/or Granny's that how would Santa find him?

Connor went into that sweet six year old narcissistic mode. "Yeah, but what about me? What will happen to me? How will I be taken care of? How will my Christmas needs be met? "

Roger assured him Santa had his ways and you never knew where Santa might leave a present.

And isn't this true for all of us, the human us? That buried narcissistic us. We all want to feel safe without anxiety over our future, no guess work, no maybes. We all want to feel comforted by loved ones. We all want to feel our needs are met without fear of being left or forgotten or lost. Yes, love is important, very important, but first comes the deeper more primitive emotional needs. Am I taken care of?

I have learned many lessons from my sons, but this was an important lesson to be reminded of by my grandson. There are so many in the world who do have to wake up destitute. People all over the planet without food, water, shelter, heat or even more mundane gifts like garbage pick-up, convenience stores, good tires, scotch tape, or something like brown sugar for that last batch of Christmas cookies. I for one appreciate my many gifts, Christmas and otherwise.

Christmas is nigh, so I will concentrate on the gifts of living, young or old. I am warm. I have books, movies, a home, family, food, I can walk even if with a cane for balance. I have Connor. He isn't making me a great grandparent yet, but I have a great-great niece coming my way. I have a car, gas and places to go. I have a job although it seems a bit uncertain for now. I have friends and a New Year's Day get together planned. I love playdates.

I am older, not dead and still learning those all important life lessons.

Many of those life lessons I learned at the knees of my children. Roger taught me what discipline looks like, how if you want to do something to slow down and do it right, how to save money, buy a home. Ian taught me that to succeed you have to fail 200 times, how to be soft on the outside and cast iron on the inside, to never deny who I am, to rarely get angry or out of sorts, how to go through life with grace. Christian taught me what art looks like, contentment, how to master a skill, how to expand my reading, my thinking, my humor.

If you ever want to know if God is great look to your children. Look, listen, and learn.

For those of you who saw, and or, followed the wrapping wars challenge on Facebook, I have to tell you that besides creating beautiful packages, Ian has his own distribution system. There are no name tags on any package. NONE!

The lesson I am currently working on is walking. I have great inspiration from many many loved ones; Jerry and Jane, Mark and Amber, Roger, Roger, Roger, Julia and Jeff, Tal, are you walking? Kathy Noland, Art Manning, when I talk to Janice she wants to get back to walking also. So 2016 is the year of the walk. Julia I don't think I will ever get to the woggle stage. Actually I know I will never get to the woggle stage. I mentioned to my friend Sandy I intend to walk; not far, not fast, not hard, but walk. Maybe wobble with my cane.

Since I have quit smoking I have gained seven to ten pounds and it feels like 207. I intend to walk them off. No cigarettes for eight weeks folks, eight weeks.

I have completed my bleeding for this family Christmas dinner. I only bled a little in the Carrot cake. Today I will organize everything else. My family gets left-overs this year. Thanksgiving left-overs. Turkey and ham left-overs. Delicious left-overs.

Also for 2016 I'm starting the Book Challenge List from the Jack Russell Memorial Library. A challenge list that my friend Sandy, or maybe Kathleen, I am getting old and forgetful, gave me for 2015. Well, better late than never, so readers start your engines the first book challenge off the book challenge list is: A book with a one word title. I'm reading Gilead, my book club's February selection.

Mark Harris I just saw the comment you left on a past blog. I'm sorry I missed it at the time, just send me a kick in the pants so I will be sure to notice in the future, or message me in FB -- I'm glad you love me.

Jeff is going to England -- somebody loves him.
Hannah is expecting a girl -- somebody loves her.
Chris Daley where is our Greenleaf update -- don't you love us?

Last great movie I watched: The Wrecking Crew, about session musicians. Great movie, I felt like I had completed "Rock n Roll 101" after I had finished. See still learning I am.

Bring on that wind, rain and fog.

Hey the abyss isn't so bad, come on down.
~ and ~
Merry Christmas Eve.

The World is Hard and Strange and Loving. I think!

The world is not always the world I want, but I fear it is the world I have. If I want to make the world a better place I have to make myself a better person. I believed that years ago and I believe that today. "Everything has a price."

"The key to a happy life is to accept you are never actually in control" Jurassic Park. Wisdom can come from some surprisingly strange sources.

I tend to lean on love, what wisdom I can muster, and beauty, like Mahalia Jackson singing a beautiful Christmas carol: Christmas Comes To Us All Once A Year

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Wo3kWwnA5fg

I so want this beautiful sentimental Christmas carol to be true, it lifts my spirit, but I believe the truth is more along the lines of there are a lot of non-Christians that December 25th comes too also. I wish them peace and love, and babies born in a world without fear and guns and ambushes and death.


Mary Carstensen shared a fabulous speech from Australia on Facebook; Nine Life Lessons. I embraced it and want to share it because I believe in the basic truths in it. I've spoken these thoughts myself, but Tim Minchin said in minutes what I have tried to say for years in my inarticulate way.

https://www.facebook.com/video.php?v=855352884549930&theater

In case you don't have the time to listen, here is his list. Nine life lessons:
1.  Don't have a dream.
2.  Don't seek happiness.
3.  There is lots of luck involved.
4.  Exercise (this was a hard one for me.)
5.  Be hard on your opinions, examine them often.
6.  Define yourself by what you love, not what you are against.
7.  Be a teacher, share your wealth of knowledge.
8.  Respect people with less power.
9.  Don't rush.

Quotes:
A true sign of intelligence is not knowledge, but imagination.
Albert Einstein
Strive not to be a success but rather be of value. Albert Einstein
Talent perceives differences, genius, unity. William Butler Yeats

Best six doctors: Sushine, water, rest, air, exercise (there it is again), diet. I can't remember where I copied this from. Sometimes I love the world so much when little gifts like this drop in my lap. I'm lucky -- life lesson #3.

It's weird how traditions come and go.

I can't believe how sad I am about not smoking. My friend for years is sorely missed, but I'm still NOT smoking no matter how much I want one during stressful moments, after dinner, sitting at the computer, writing, after a shower, before going to see Connor, while cooking, watching a movie, reading a book, before I go to sleep, after I wake up, and on and on and on...

Jerry, I finally finished Strange Fruit. That was a hard hard book. How did the South ever change? How did it ever progress to a more tolerant era? How did it give freedoms and understanding where there was none?  How did reasonable win out? Did it? Can reasonableness win again?

Does this mean there is hope for change now, with the current hatreds rampant, with old hatreds resurfaced?

The world is hard and strange and loving and finally full of wisdom.
I think!

I love a world where I can "lift" wisdom from here and there and every where. Thank you world for sharing, teaching, and giving -- Life lesson # 7.

Ain't It Awful

I'm at a loss looking for words, the right words, good words, meaningful words to express and assimilate the latest mass shooting.

San Bernardino, my home town for many years. Feeling the close connections. Feelings of love for the Carrillo Clan flooding me. Ain't it awful just doesn't suffice.

I lived there, drove the streets, had picnics in the parks, had holiday dinners, biked, watched children play, went to school, learned to love menudo and sweet bread, buried my family, all in the city limits. The city where I survived my own personal mass deaths.

Aint' it awful ain't enough. I read the news feeds; blame the NRA, religion, politics, Obama, open carry, a lack of mental health care services, prayer. I can't wrap my head around it. Facts don't suffice. I can't combat it, ignore it, understand it. I can't vote it, pray it, express it, or blame it. The magnitude is so devastating, so much larger than me, that I can only feel it deep, deep inside me.

I understand praying a last desperate cry. A cry into an abyss for an event so much larger than ourselves. The prayer that please it can't be so, it can't be true. The prayer for something, for anything, but a full understanding of the truth. I've uttered that prayer myself.

How can the deaths of so many in a smallish city in California be perceived as a threat to a way of life somewhere else? How can it be political? How can it not? It's not a blow to a belief system, to religion or open carry or gun control. It was a blow to those people, at that place, at that time. It was a blow beyond my understanding carried out by humans beyond my understanding.

My friend's granddaughter has a birthday Saturday. I was primping and fussing over some dolls from my doll collection that I intended to pass along to little Stella when I heard the breaking news feed. Dolls to death. How much can you weep?

Can we pray and have gun control? Does it have to be a choice for or against? One or the other?

Let me tell you a story about Christian. Christian didn't like to be read to. As a child when I was reading him a story he squirmed and wiggled and asked to be excused. Later in grade school he didn't like to read. I would pay him a buck a book to try to ignite an interest in books to no avail. I paid him to accomplish his required academic reading. Is it still twenty minutes a night? Then one day, he was about 14 years old I guess, he brought me a song he had discovered and was so excited by it that he had to share with me.

It was Rime of the Ancient Mariner by Iron Maiden. I listened to the music and asked him, "Do you want to read the original?" After his aghast disbelief that there was an original, I handed him an English Literature book turned to the epic poem by Samuel Taylor Coleridge. Christian loved reading that poem. With the lit book in hand he went on to read Edgar Allan Poe and other classical works and became a life long reader. Greek, Roman, Norse mythology, philosophy, history, fantasy, fiction and non, he reads it all.

Here is the lesson he taught me. It seems all my important life lessons I learned from my children, or as Picasso said, "Don't teach children to draw, learn from them."

What Christian taught me is the world can be deeper than what presents itself on the surface. The world is deeper. It is deeper and sweeter and more profound and bigger than we as humans have the capacity to even imagine. Paying Christian a buck to read some sixth grade book didn't open his love of reading. Connecting did.

I didn't plan for or imagine Christian reading Norse history when I stopped and listened to his music. When I accepted the gift of him sharing something that I had no love for, understanding of, or appreciation of, I mean who loves Iron Maiden? What is on the surface is just the beginning to deeper understanding.

I can't present the words or pretend to understand the causes of the world's ills, horrors and sorrows. I can't blame Obama, Planned Parenthood, the NRA, or religion.

I can seek a deeper understanding.