Gratitude Sunday: The Prude And The Wuss: or The Proud And The Wise

Gratitude * Sunday
Sunday’s heartfelt tradition.
A time to slow down, to reflect, to be grateful.
A list of gratitudes, our gratefulness feeds one another.
Quoted from Taryn Wilson
Joining the Gratitude Sunday Tradition at Wooly Moss Roots.


Sunday Haiku
Stop little drizzle.
Rain fully at night, awake,
Camelot refreshed.

Sunday Musings
Earlier this month I talked about labels. I have a couple labels of my own. I don’t necessarily own the labels, but they are a starting place for, oh, let’s call them personality traits.

I am a prude. You may remember me talking about this as well. It’s not that sex isn’t interesting, it’s just that sex is private. I don’t like to view public displays of affection. What other people do together just isn’t fascinating; it belongs to them, not to the public. I don’t care to view sex in public at the movie theater. Because of necessary limitations, sex scenes in live theater are usually limited. Fine by me. Even in the privacy of my own home, sex scenes in novels don’t add much interest to the plot. Fast forward is my friend when I am watching a DVD as it can make the sex scene a bit entertaining when speeded up.

I’m changing the label. I’m a discerning viewer. I do not find sex scenes to be entertaining. I know what I like, what pleases me, and what bores me. You may differ and that’s just fine. We don’t have to agree on what we like, and we don’t have to talk about it either. Unless we choose to. Sometimes I’m flexible.

By the same token, I am a wuss. I’m not sure the correct spelling of that word has been defined, but you know what I mean. I abhor violence; I can barely stand a raised voice. I don’t tolerate violence in my home, among friends or family, and put distance between neighbors or friends who have demonstrated violent penchants. I don’t like taking risks; my adventure threshold goes about as far as sleeping without a sheet and inviting the mosquitoes in. Most days I cannot tolerate watching the news or reading a newspaper or newsfeed on social media. So many people hurting in so many places. Way too much gun violence: shooting citizens stopped for traffic violations, shooting cops for retaliation, shooting schoolrooms and theaters full of people, shooting your own children for minor disagreements. How could you shoot your own children? How could you shoot somebody else’s children? What would make you that angry? In theory we have evolved away from the beginning of American society, where every man, and many women were armed, and you could be shot for anything from cheating at cards to drunken foolishness to revenge to looking or talking different. Reading the news I’m not so sure any more. Don’t forget to turn on your blinker before you change lanes. I’m like the little girl who puts her hands over her ears and sings “la-la-la-la-la” when she has to listen to something she doesn’t want to hear.

I was raised around guns. My dad worked on guns as part of his job as a Deputy Sheriff. Dad left guns lying around the house. Read that sentence again. Dad left guns lying around the house next to his bed, next to the chair he watched TV from, lying on his workbench. He knew, because of the way he taught us, none of us would touch the guns and we’d make sure any visitor would not either. Part of that safety net included ammunition locked away from the guns. The ammunition was locked inside a box which was locked inside a cabinet in the parents’ room. Entry into the parents’ room was not allowed. For anybody. Forbidden. We respected the sanctity of private space. Under the threat of God and Dad. Dad didn’t believe in gun accidents and he claimed there are no gun accidents, just poor handling procedures.

I don’t think everybody should own a gun despite our constitutional rights. Not everybody knows or honors safe gun handling; mental health and drug use have huge impacts on the ability to use a gun safely. Heck, not even professional police or military training seems to make it suitable for some people to own and use a gun even in their line of work. One must have a cool head and discerning mind to own and use a gun. If you use the gun as a threat, you eventually have to make the choice to use the gun with force, deadly or otherwise.

I own a gun. I’m a good shot with either hand. I would be long dead before I would be able to use the gun in self defense. I cannot imagine any event where I might want to dig out the gun case, unlock the case, find the ammunition case, unlock that case, load the gun, and hold it out toward someone. Really. I might be able to shoot, but there is so much to deal with after that choice, a mess to clean up and living with that event on replay in your brain for the rest of your life. If chaos and anarchy prevail in the near future, come on down, shoot me quick and fast so I don’t have to choose to defend what’s mine. Congratulations, the bit of stuff I have is all yours now. If you take the time to ask, I’d likely give you most of what I have anyway.

Sex should be private and violence shouldn’t happen at all, yet it seems we can hardly have art without them. In every story there is conflict. Real life stories, and fiction stories, novel and film, all rely on strife of some sort to get us to the resolution. Perhaps all these years of yearning for peace have been a waste of time. There is no such thing as peace. We always seem to want what we do not have. Ah, there it is. Art is about desire, about the body. Whatever the body is art echoes.

Until we are satisfied within our bodies we will always be wanting more. Until we are satisfied with what we own, the abundance already in our lives, we will always want more. Until our faith is enough we will want more.

Change your labels. You are not a prude, you are discerning. You are not a wuss, you are rational. You are not poor, as wealth does not come from material goods, and if you have material goods in addition to health and family, you are doubly wealthy. Any other label in your life, even your most deeply hidden weaknesses, can be re-labeled. You do not have to choose to live in violence. And you know what? Violence never solves anything. Nothing. Violence is only conquered with non-violence. Perhaps if we change enough labels we can change the world, resolve into peace, and write a different kind of story.

Color Watch – colorful attractions in my neighborhoods this week – What can be more fanciful than a whole tree of pink and gold mimosa blossoms. 9941cd56459deb4361c271c18af02e0b[1] Black-eyed susans. DSCN5854 Suddenly sunny yellow sunflowers. DSCN6044

Current View{These are only my opinions about movies and books, but don’t let me stop you from trying these reviewed items yourself; your opinion may differ. Viva la différence!} Carol (2015, rated R) with Cate Blanchett, a period film set in 1952 about the love that develops between two people. The clothing, the props, the old cars, recreating the time and setting were all beautifully filmed to capture the intensity of the affair. I don’t need sex scenes to convince me of love no matter how short or delicately handled the scenes are. * The King’s Speech (2010, rated R) with Colin Firth, Helena Bonham Carter, and Geoffrey Rush. More of the story of how the abdication of King Edward VIII to marry Wallace Simpson, a twice divorced American, affects his brother who has to take over the throne as King George VI. George (Bertie to his family) stutters and spends many years with experts to improve his speaking. This was my second viewing, and I remembered liking it the first time. With this viewing, this movie is now on my favorites list for multiple viewings. * Blackfish (2013, rated PG-13) a documentary about orcas in captivity and some theories about why their captivity habitat contributes to the orcas killing their trainers. Movie came highly recommended from a friend who loves animal documentaries. For the record, I’ve never and won’t ever go see a marine animal show. I cannot see how animals who are used to the freedom of the oceans can benefit from captivity in any way. * Brooklyn (2015, rated PG – 13), a young Irish woman comes to America in the early 1950s, falls in love, then returns to Ireland because of the death of her sister. Another love story between two people, but the wistful quality of Brooklyn was more my comfort zone than the glamorous quality achieved in Carol reviewed above. Both movies were period pieces about the 1950s, with great opportunities to recreate locales and atmosphere. I enjoyed both movies but Brooklyn seemed the more authentic story than Carol. Perhaps that observation is partly the effect of comparing two different social classes, as well. The serendipity of seeing both these movies this week interests me. I’ll watch Brooklyn again.


Currently ReadingWhat Remains of Me (2016, fiction) by Alison Gaylin. A murder mystery set near Hollywood, California, this story weaves a past crime in 1980 and a current event in 2010. So far so good, despite some editing/proofreading errors. I know; I’m picky. Back to How to Have a Good Day: Harness the Power of Behavioral Science to Transform Your Working Life (2016, neuropsychology) by Caroline Webb, a popular title I am borrowing from my local lending library with limited circulating copies. This is one of those books you could own as a reference item. Reading a few chapters at a time makes it hard for me to remember the good information it presents.


This week I have been grateful for:

  • The son fixing his truck after a month without wheels.
  • Kohlrabi and tomatoes at my local farmers market.
  • An acquaintance whom I served in my previous employment who shared some kind words with me when we saw each other at the farmers market. I so appreciate kindness.
  • My house did not burn down on the 4th of July despite finding evidence of the neighbor’s explosive entertainment on my wooden porch deck.
  • A mild week in the 70s with refreshing breezes and a handful of showers for the gardens.
  • The soft comforting sound of breezes through the leaves of the neighbor’s trees in my backyard.
  • Finding some muscles and remembering how they feel when they haven’t been used in a while.
  • My insatiable curiosity.
  • The ability to turn the news off when I’ve had too much of the crazy world. I like my little quiet piece of the world.
  • Learning. Learning. Learning.
  • The hubster understanding what plugs into what and where to make all the electronics and technology run in this household. We recently had to install cameras and monitors to beef up security after suffering a property loss, small loss, wealthy with learning.
  • Empathy. For families who are residual victims of violence as they live with the grief of loss.
  • Water.

Hoping you have a lovely week.

Namaste. Peace. Blessings.


Floral ribbon border by Laurel Burch
Floral paragraph dividers by Susan Branch

This entry was posted in abundance, Education, GRATITUDE, Grief, Health, History, Nature, Photography, Poetry, Politics and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

One Response to Gratitude Sunday: The Prude And The Wuss: or The Proud And The Wise

  1. heathermama7 says:

    beautiful words. i saw blackfish a few years ago and have not been able to go to a zoo or aquarium since.

    Liked by 1 person

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