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Hush, hush. Somebody's calling my name

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Listen .  In order to hear anything, one has to learn how to listen (which may be problematic since "listening skills" rarely are taught in K-12 curriculum, whether in language arts, English, or speech classes).  I remember teachers reminding students, especially rambunctious ones, "You have two ears and one mouth for a reason!"  They rarely followed up with "listening skills development" techniques.  Adults admonished us to save our "outdoor voices" for the playground or basket ball courts.  Nowadays, noise bombards  us, so much so that its opposite typically brings pause.  What's wrong? It's too  quiet.  Put on some music; turn on the television; even, "whistle while you work!" We rarely implore students (or adults for that matter) to put on their "listening ears."  In truth, do we know who  or what or  when,   where,  or why  to listen? Especially, do we know how  to listen?  Probably...
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Interactions

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  "Why in the world would she do that? How could he? I'd NEVER think to do what they did..."    Thus begins my ego-centered monologue about the efficacy of other people's decisions, choices, or boundaries.   Admittedly, I base my determinations solely on my belief system.  Truth be told, I rarely evaluate the quality of my conclusions.  Even as I ask, I reconcile a probable answer, whether as simple as "Why do I have brown eyes?" or "Why does an antiquated law remain enforceable?" It's one thing to wonder why people launch unprovoked attacks on others; it's quite another, however, when I attack myself as if I were distinct "Other."  Nevertheless, I'll ask.  Why do I accuse, then indict myself for a misstep or infraction; convene and conduct a trial in which I serve as prosecutor and jury; then declare myself guilty as charged? Not surprisingly, I expect and get the harshest punishment the law allows. Why? Even as I ask, I redu...
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The Longest Walk: Forward, Backward, or Inertia

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"I want  Jesus to walk with me, I want Jesus to walk with me, All along my pilgrim journey, I want Jesus to walk with me." A favorite poem of mine begins, "Well son, I'll tell you, Life's for me ain't been no crystal stair." And while the poet identifies neither mom  nor son, we may assume that they come from a certain socioeconomic class; probably the Black underclass. can imagine the Mother has reasons to feel hopeless, but she doesn't! Thus, we witness the power of the spoken word, steeped in a hope that diminishes despair.   No matter age, status, or experiences, most of us live lives of isolation, if not desperation.  Whether we build our house on sprawling lots; live in expensive, urban lofts, or in cramped quarters, isolation relegates the sense of community to a distant dream.  So what happens if we experience loss? From missing the last parking space on our street; the theft of a vehicle with all the security be...
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