The Lost Arts – Introductions

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Shawn MacKenzie: This whole idea has me thinking – I wonder, aside from the generational or regional differences, if the modern cyber world in which we live doesn’t foster distance. We use e-monikers, avatars, and digital personae, which may or may not be based in truth. To actually meet someone face-to-face takes one into a whole new – very real – world. You can no longer hide behind aliases and cyberian anonymity.

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I remember…years and years ago…how, when people walked into the same room, or happened upon each other on a city street, or bumped into each other at the drug store, introductions ensued.

“Oh, hi, John. May I introduce my mother, Lois Sanderson? Mom, this is John Smith, my friend at school.” They shake hands. Chit chat a bit. Ask and answer a few questions.

Many times in the last few years, I’ve been the stranger in the room. I walk in. No introductions. Another person walks in, no introductions. A couple walks in, no introductions.

I have been in situations where I have to introduce myself. I’m not shy, so I say things like “Hi, I’m _________’s _______. Who are you?” Or “Hey, you must be ________, I’m ______.”

If you have an encounter (same room, city street, drug store) and you think, perhaps the person you are with and the person you ran into might not know each other, you should extend an introduction.

It’s not complicated. Though I do remember from Emily Post that you should “present” the older person first. Hence, I would present my mother to the younger pal o’ mine we ran into.

But even if you don’t follow Emily Post (and who does any more), you should at least say something that resembles an introduction.

A few comments about introductions, from friends…

Shawn MacKenzie: Hmmm. We are a curious species. I remember when I came to Vermont people greeted/introduced each other differently than in MN – always a handshake but often only first names. It would be sad if it’s another sign of declining civility.

Jessica Messinger: Perhaps making introductions is a lost art, or feels too formal for today’s society. I try to introduce people, but sometimes I forget names (even if I’ve known them since I was little!) and then it’s kind of awkward to make introductions,

Nancy Winden Gooch: Forgetting names is often my excuse. Embarrassing! I still think about those “rules” when I introduce people, although I don’t always get it right.

Esther Hastings Miller: This has bothered me, too. I remember practicing in grade school how to introduce people…older people first, women before men, etc. Maybe that’s overkill now, but I still appreciate being introduced when two people meet who know each other and I don’t know the third party. I usually try to do the same.

Ilil Arbel: It is one symptom of a strange decline in general manners, but I realize that perhaps that is how my parents felt as my generation grew up. Customs change. I don’t like the current manners, but I feel I must adjust.

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I don’t like adjusting to things that I feel are rude, or at least not very nice. You stand with a friend…another person walks up…how hard is it to say, “Hey, do you know so-n-so?” Not hard at all.

 

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Which religion is it? Does it matter?

 

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Since the election in November, I’ve become connected with so many more diverse people than I ever thought possible. I’ve joined solidarity groups, marching groups, LGBT groups, science groups, and religious groups.

What I find the same in all these groups? They are all fighting for each other. They don’t care if you are male or female. They don’t care that you are a different color. They don’t care that you celebrate a different religion.

That’s what gave me the idea for this post. If I don’t label a religion, would you know which one it is?

And does it matter?

FIRST PERSON’S ANSWERS

How often do you pray? I pray five times a day. I am always trying to do it on time but sometimes say them a little later but do them.

What do you pray for? I pray because it is my obligation to God as He gave me life and its bounties and I am showing my appreciation for his generosity and mercy.  I pray for myself first for a healthy long life to be able to see my children settled and comfortable. I pray to be there to see their children, their successes and their happiness and for them to have long lives with good fortune, good health and right guidance.

How many people are in your organized prayer group? I do not go to organized prayers but pray at home by myself.

How often do you attend your organized prayer group? I only attend organized community prayers twice a year on religious festivals.

What does your religious group do for the community? My religious community where I live is not very active in the larger community.

Favorite inspirational quote:

This is from the Prophet’s final sermon. Not an actual quote and I’m parsing it “No man has superiority over another man, no white over colored, no Arab over non-Arab. A man’s superiority is only by his piety and his help to his fellowmen.”

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How often do you pray? Almost daily.

What do you pray for? Family, church, country, known needs from our prayer group leader.

How many people are in your organized prayer group? About 90.

How often do you attend your organized prayer group? A minimum of weekly.

What does your religious group do for the community? Financial support to many religious groups. Volunteers for local thrift store. Food for local homeless. Occasional community meals. Adopt social service families during holidays. Collections for area food pantry. Just opening a weekly food pantry ourselves. Provide food and beverage for two of our town’s holiday events.

Favorite inspirational quote:

For yesterday is but a dream

And tomorrow is only a vision

But today, well lived,

Makes every yesterday a dream of happiness

And every tomorrow a vision of hope.

~Ancient Sanskrit writings

THIRD PERSON’S ANSWERS

How often do you pray? Depends on the day, but usually at least 5 times.

What do you pray for? I pray over my meals – asking God to bless them, and thanking him for the food; I pray for my children to be safe and to do well in school; I pray for people my Facebook friends ask for prayers for; I pray for friends and family who are ill or in dangerous situations, or struggling with something; I pray just to thank God for the blessings He’s given me; I pray that our house will sell; I pray for our country’s leaders and for my church leaders; I pray for my husband when he goes on business trips; I tell God that I’m frustrated with something, or I ask Him for help with something (even as simple as finding a book in the piles in my living room until we get bookcases built in our new house); basically I pray about anyone, and anything, and at any time of the day or night.

How many people are in your organized prayer group? Probably about 60 who are regularly active.

How often do you attend your organized prayer group? Every Sunday, and sometimes we meet during the week.

What does your religious group do for the community? We serve at clothing banks; we help people stack their wood piles (and split the wood if we need to); we help at the annual Labor Day Picnic with several other groups in the chicken dinner tent (serving food, setting up tables and chairs and taking them down, washing dishes); we help people who have been involved in disasters (flood clean-up; storm clean-up); we visit elderly people, house-bound people; we take meals to people who are ill or whose family members are ill.

Provide a favorite inspirational quote (does not have to be from a sacred text) Psalms 46:10 “Be still and know that I am God.” (that’s not the whole verse)

COMMENTS FROM ONE MORE PERSON

I pray daily … my prayer is called ardaas.

It is a gratitude prayer from the Sikh faith, and I pray for “may there be peace, may we remember God’s name and prosperity for the whole world.”

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Winter Haiku

I meant to post some winter haiku months ago, but then DT happened…and I got my late-blooming political activist thing going.

So!

Before it’s too late, and the snow drifts melt, here’s some winter haiku for you in the more severe climes. And for those of you in the milder climes, be glad.

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Skiing on white caps

White out blinds the shushing eye

Casted leg propped up.

 

 

Snow shovels scraping

Driveways and sidewalks cleaned up

Kids break out snow day.

 

 

Time for a long nap

Hibernating furry bears

Roly-poly cubs.

 

For those of you inclined to purchase a book of poetry, my book is available! I have loads of haiku and other personal free-verse poems in this collection, written over decades of life. I hope you enjoy. https://www.amazon.com/No-Boundaries-Karen-R-Sanderson/dp/0998127604

 

 

 

 

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I’m published!

noboundariescover-frontonly

 

Here’s a holiday selection

From my collection

(changed slightly to accommodate Thanksgiving)
**** 

Holiday Dinner

Chicken runs round the farm yard,

Wishes he was the duck.

Duck runs round the barn yard,

Wishes he was the pig.

Pig runs round the pig sty,

Wishes he was the horse.

Horse smiles, relaxes in stall.

Thanksgiving Eve, he’ll mourn them all.

****

My collection includes Family and Friends, God Bless Our Military, Limericks, Beautiful Earth, Art, Imagination, & Miscellany, Haiku, and My Funny Bone.

To order, go to “No Boundaries” at Amazon.

 

 

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Little Zombie

Little Zombie

By Karen R. Sanderson

megan-zombie[1]

My zombie friend, Megan

Little zombie, you think you’re stylish?

Blood drippin’ down your shirt.

With your herky-jerky, lumbering lurch.

Ain’t ‘gonna get us, we’re on alert.

 

Little zombie, right next door,

Tearing through their chain link fencing.

Banging down the neighbor’s entry.

Your inhuman strength is oh-so frightening!

 

Little zombie, you’re so scary.

Are those brains, gray and mushy,

Spilled upon your dirty feet?

Don’t look now, your toes are squishing.

 

What yellow fangs you’re a baring.

Gaping mouth, you’re getting anxious.

Baseball bats don’t knock you down.

We’ll have to raid the gun collection.

 

See my boy, he’s packing heat.

He’ll use his gun to make you dead.

To his shoulder, butt stock goes,

Oh little zombie, where’s your head?

________________

A poem contained in No Boundaries, A Collection of Poetry, by

Karen R. Sanderson. Soon to be launched.

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On Halloween

On Halloween

Pam Wight cat

Who would ride a broomstick

As the witches do –

Straight across the pebbly stars

On a street of blue?

I should! I should!

(If mother came, too).

Who would take a wildcat,

With eyes all yellow-green

To ride upon her broomstick

Late on Halloween?

I should! I should!

(If mother sat between).

____________

A poem contained in No Boundaries, A Collection of Poetry,

by Karen R. Sanderson. Soon to be launched.

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Guest Poet, Sue Lobo

11136680_749463021821443_2489833491478305154_nSue Lobo is the author of five books of her poetry & one of her childhood in the African bush, called “Lollipops of Dust,” her autobiography of a child´s view of living in colonial Africa, in the Kalahari desert, with all the magic of what the old Africa had to offer. She has also participated in ten poetry anthologies with other very talented poets & has won poetry competitions in Gibraltar & Spain. She is married to a Spaniard, with two grown sons & presently lives in Spain. Her book of poetry about death & dying called “The Last Dance” has been used to comfort the bereaved in hospices & also used at funerals. Her book of animal poetry called “Wild Whisperings” was written to generate funds for the International Save The Rhino Fund. Her latest work called “I Am Woman” is all about women & their struggles & plight in many countries of the world, but also reflecting on their joy & beauty in every age of womanhood.

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LEST WE FORGET:

In the sadness of war, of only man´s sick making,

Leaving death, destruction & our sad earth quaking,

We now sadly remember, all those whom have died,

Every man from every nation, no matter what side.

 

But let´s not forget, the feathers, fins, hooves & the paws,

Innocent friends with no choices, we sent into our wars,

The silent creatures who fought for whatever the cause,

Not understanding man´s reasoning for fighting sad wars.

 

Dolphins, pigeons, brave equines & not forgetting the dogs,

Taken to far oceans, air, hot deserts & to muddy cold bogs,

These poor creatures who died, without knowing the game,

Let us pay homage to them & say “I´m so sorry,” in shame.

POETRY BY – SUE LOBO ©:   /|\   (PHOTOGRAPHY WITH PERMISSION GRANTED, BY THE VERY TALENTED – Lili SaatchiCemetery of staglieno and more)

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SLOW DANCE ME:

My life on earth is near on done, so please,
Slow dance me through the corridors of time,
Through mists where the satin moths waltz,
Tiptoe me through forests where Druids gather,
Where I can hear the silent melody of the moon,
The echo of wistful whisperings of woeful witches,
Take my very old hand of life´s learnt wisdom, and
Lead me through silken webs of spiders long gone,
To the waterfalls where the coloured birds sing,
To where the eagle soars & the lion roars,
Slow dance me high to clouds above, where
Pegasus flies, & dragons wink their red hot love,
Sing me songs of days gone by & tell me pretty tales,
Let me smell those intoxicating perfumes, of
Jasmine & rose, & of scents I yet don’t know,
Slow dance me to the end of a life well lived, and
Let me hear the voice of god as I take my final bow,
Slow dance me please, for my time is done.
POETRY BY – SUE LOBO ©:   /|\   (PHOTOGRAPHY WITH PERMISSION GRANTED, BY THE VERY TALENTED – Lili SaatchiCemetery of staglieno and more)

 

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MATRIARCHS:

Why did I not listen to them, so wise,
those matriarchs of my folk, my clan, my tribe?
When they foresaw & warned, I just laughed & scorned
at their words, & waltzed out the door, whilst,
they told of the reasons, the wherefores & the whys.

I hear their voices in the wind & the rain,
I see their faces in sun, stars & moon,
I now live their words of warning & scorn,
It´s too late now, but it´s a lesson well learned,
If only we could all start over again.

Their foreboding came true, every wise word,
they´ve long gone away, to other realms far afield,
Their words tormenting my every wrong deed,
too late now, & so sorry am I, that
I walked out the door leaving words unheard.

POETRY BY – SUE LOBO ©:   /|\   (PHOTOGRAPHY WITH PERMISSION GRANTED, BY THE VERY TALENTED – Lili SaatchiCemetery of staglieno and more)

 

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SUMMER CHILD:

Latticed shadows echo upon sun dappled cheek,

Tiny black minnows nibble toes down by the creek,

Wending fluffed clouds are angels merely disguised,

Hankied white gulls pinned upon lapels of blue skies,

Rosy peached lips dripping juicy with childhood smiles,

Nut-skinned brown knees clambering over mossy stiles,

Laughter gaily heard through cool green forest glades,

As you go tripping through lilacs my pretty little maid,

Gritty little bare feet, dirty-earthy & so muddily free,

The wild beasts your friends & your mentors the trees,

Your tight little fists clutching joy & fields full of flowers,

Paddling in splashing brooks for many summer hours,

Breeze brushed hair as tussled as the errant soft fern,

And peeping through the brambles, Puck, Pan & Herne,

Ladybirds, dragonflies, butterflies & soft velveteen bees,

Join in your games of tickle, chase & the laughing tease,

Lemon scented lollipop melting on small eager tongue,

Herb perfumed fingers spin stones where bees once sung,

Skipping through red berry juice & plunging into streams,

Your joyful childish laughter echoes in summer day screams.

POETRY BY – SUE LOBO © /|\
Photo for the poem “Summer Child” (Photography shared from Xavier Lobo © – my son)

 

BOOKS:

Africa My Africa – poetry – (Now out of print)

Wild Whisperings – poetry – CTU Publishing Group & Amazon

The Last Dance – poetry – CTU Publishing Group & Amazon

I Am Woman – poetry – CTU Publishing Group & Amazon

Lollipops Of Dust – Autobiography – (Available from Woodfieldpublishing.co.uk & Amazon)

ANTHOLOGIES:

Available from CTU Publishing Group & Amazon

Love, A Four Letter Word, Divided Lines, Poetic Melodies, and Women of the World

Poets With Voices Strong – Autumn Poetry – published by Brian Wrixton & available from Blurb):

Awaken To A Dream –The International Library Of Poetry (out of print)

The Golden Seed – Slippery Jack Press, UK

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