Humans weren’t meant to be Test driven

Dating.  Try her out to see if she’s right for you.  Join with someone you think you’ve kind of figured out and make it work according to your assumptions and society’s conventions.


Arranged marriage. Join with a mostly unknown and make it work according to your assumptions, your parents’ assumptions and society’s conventions. (with infinite variations, because every human is distinct)

In writing fantasy and science fiction, I invent societies to reflect and comment on what I see.  History? Psychology? Anthropology? They are all in the mix.  A writer is a student of human behaviour.

The #metoo has me thinking. Our western society values the dating game.  We are obsessed with finding the right one to mate with.  We believe we can choose for ourselves AND if we get it wrong, we believe we can choose an infinite number of times with few and insignificant consequences.

The point of joining is sexual activity.

Sexual predators have extended the dating paradigm to its tragic conclusion. They choose and re-choose by the moment. Their sexual activity is the only characteristic influencing their choice.  Notice I said their sexual activity. They have no awareness of the person they pursue.

All kinds of factors influence arousal, awareness and inhibition.  (What?  Did she just say ‘inhibition’?  That’s a dirty word! We have ‘evolved’ beyond being inhibited!) Your assumptions, your parents’ assumptions, society’s conventions, history, psychology and anthropology are all part of the mix.  (with infinite variations, because every human is distinct)

And again I ask, Who will save us from this body of death that extends every human paradigm to its tragic conclusion?



What do you know about disconnection? The unfulfilled longing to belong?

I’m writing on the fly for my newest story on Wattpad.

Hagovi’s Bridge   

This is both fun and frightening.  I am only one step ahead of my audience. When an issue like loneliness comes up for the characters, I have to think quickly about my experience with it, all the different kinds, how it is going to play out for my characters.

The Protagonist is left in a house all by herself. She is given a task with minimal instruction. She has a limited experience with society which makes the departure of all the people she does know very traumatic.

She seeks out companionship and finds a castle full of people she can’t deal with. One of them brings her back to the house. She hopes they will stay.  I found out yesterday that her companion will die.

Grief is the most profound loneliness.  That which filled ones life, and it didn’t have to be with joy all the time, is no more. The hole echos with memories. Our souls are attuned to vibrations of a soul removed.  Belonging is shifted. The effort to find a new place to belong is hampered by the loss of inertia that comes with grief.

Kings are lonely on their thrones, slaves are lonely in their dungeons.  People with 1000 friends on social media despair in their empty living rooms.  There is no doubt isolation is an epidemic for all human geographic groups.

Who will save us from this body of death?

Be my fear?

Parker Palmer, in an interview for Kolbe Times: “You also mentioned that big word: “fear”. As I mention in several of my books, I think fear is one of the big enemies of all things human. Fear shuts down everything from the mind’s capacity to distinguish between true and false (or between facts and alternative facts, as we like to say in this country) all the way to our capacity to care for one another. Fear shuts us down, keeps us apart and turns us off. And so I’ve meditated a lot on another brief biblical passage, where Jesus says, “Be not afraid.” Fear has always been a part of my life, and I remember when I was younger I thought, “Wow, I’ll never be able to live up to that Scripture passage, because I have so much fear.” But then I realized as time went by that the words don’t say that you shouldn’t have fear – the words say that you don’t need to be your fear.”

I need help with this one.  I recognise the truth here.  I am excited to glimpse something beyond the run of the mill philosophy. But I’m only glimpsing.  I want to grasp.

What does it mean to have fear and not be it?  Can you give me an example in your life where you overcame fear so that it did not define you?

My instinct says that this has to do with saving the world. Like that security guard in Las Vegas who saved thousands of lives.

His fear was different.



Naloxone in public places

Have you considered asking your work place/school/place of worship/hairdresser to have ready a kit of opioid antagonist? (That’s what my box calls it.) Have you considered delivering one to them? With permission, of course.

I got one for my church office yesterday.  The government here is handing them out free from pharmacies. The public still needs to get involved.  They aren’t doing any good expiring in the pharmacy cupboards.

Maybe they won’t do any good expiring in the public cupboards. I wrestled with this and concluded from my faith background that I know the One Who Knows. I trust that a blanket approach – having kits everywhere even when not used – will save lives.

When I picked it up, the pharmacists all looked at me as if to assess my addiction.  I expect they can tell at a glance who needs it for themselves, and who is buying for others.  I told them my daughter is advocating for the opioid epidemic/crisis and she has raised my awareness. The stigma exists and you and I need to face it in order to stock these life saving kits where they can help.




The falcon swooped over the pocket of land between crashing shore waves on the thin beach, and the craggy snow drift cliffs that severed the sea mists from the land.

The meadow grass rustled, ripe in the measured moments of the sun’s apex.  The rill cascaded from rock to rock as if this blessed space of gentleness in a harsh terrain and climate needed a scar to prove her resilience.

A pocket mouse twitched his whiskers and the falcon tucked her wings.  The wind streamed over her feathers, channeled in their least crevasses to guide her arrow-like plunge.

(We were told to write something on pockets.)


A Waste of Protein

I hear this often these days from the mouths of people who believe we somehow put ourselves together from a primordial soup and have no intrinsic value.  The end of life is the end of all.

I say ‘the mouths’ because that is not what they show from their hearts.

“Survival of the fittest” is another undefendable mouth spew.  We elect governments and authorise them to spend our hard earned money on succouring the least in our communities. The current society is acting decisively and profoundly to negate all it says it believes about the theory of evolution.

If  ‘fittest’ meant best fed, most intelligent, strongest as humans fought tooth and nail to be at the top of the food chain, why stop now?

There are places in the world where the winners are slaughtering the losers, the stronger are forcing the weaker to live in unsustainable places.  Isn’t that what the theory of evolution propounds?  Why get upset? Why the ‘peace keeping’?  Why not let ‘nature’ take it’s course?

Because it is undefendable mouth spew.

Every human life has intrinsic value. We have always been this way.  From the moment of conception and possibly before, we are treasures beyond price.  We are ultimate works of art, the pinnacle of achievement of the highest possible creativity.  We are the vessels so respected and honoured that we are given the high trust of choice.

What other creature owns the choice to reject truth?  Not even the angels.

We are not a waste of protein.

New arrival

My Narcan Nasal spray kit arrived yesterday.  I am conflicted.

I want to pray that I never, never have to use it.  But that would mean one kit that is removed from a place it is needed. Let’s not kid ourselves that it isn’t needed.

It’s like insurance.  I want one around because there is a statistical chance I’ll need it for someone.  No one I know personally has told me they have opioid issues.  I’m thinking about the stranger.

The friend (or friend of a friend) who had surgery and got more than a cure.

The young person who didn’t know what they were getting into.

The person who touched a handrail that had some green stuff on it.

In my neighbour’s house. In the shopping mall. In the park. On public transit.

I’m going to tell all and sundry that I have it.  That’s my little part for saving a tiny part the world.