From coffee and pastries to bleeding on the ground

https://www.ynetnews.com/articles/0,7340,L-5425467,00.html

Where will this end?

I am just reading an interview with the Dali Lama and an Israeli man wishing to ask his opinion .

The Dali Lama chose exile rather than a violent confrontation but says the holocaust is what separated the Tibetians from the Jews.

I don’t believe Zionism is the result of the holocaust even the timeline speaks of a very different development ;Theodore Herzel envisioned the return of the Jews to their historical homeland at least 50 years before Hitler took power of Germany and began his campaign to did Europe of its Jews and gain their property and wealth .

The holocaust will no doubt never stop to whisper warnings to those born to Jews surviving the attempts of genocide however the Jews of Arab lands did not seek to stay in their host countries either and so here we are still being targeted by guns and knives and having been the same age of the soldiers and now the age of the mothers of the soldiers I wonder when will the cycle of violence ever end?

We live like an ostrich ,I think ,as I watch the baby carriages carrying the future victims of violence and in some people’s eyes ,the perpetrators of violence .

When will this co existence that occurs every day more frequently than acts of violence finally overcome and sweep everyone into a process of peaceful nonviolence ?

Those who know political Islam say never ,those who believe in the messiah say when he comes ,and I remain very doubtful whether I will get to experience peace anywhere on this planet ruled by human beings who don’t practice peace light or love.

I include myself in the not quite there group .I watch a father have a talk with a daughter telling her how she should study ,and wonder why i never had that talk from my parents ?

Some realizations must come from ourselves and it is always about ourselves ,I think as I begin to read the holocaust novel “Jacob the liar “by The Polish Jewish writer Jurek Becker who told his story in English the way i tell mine in English .

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Incarceration

At one point I realized a shocking fact ;I preferred The company of the prisoners clad in Orange to that of the teachers in the small teachers room.

Observing has been a hobby since my early childhood and helped me survive hard times.

Hard times here We go again!I reflected as the Russian Kozak hired to teach Mathematics ,Physics and computer science began yet another monologue on how horrible humanity specifically Russia,her two ex husbands and the prisoners were.

I couldn’t put ear plugs in since I didn’t have any and the Russian ‘s voice was loud and clear so I hid in the room where the Education officers were sitting eating their sandwiches and sometimes making colorful posters with large letters declaring Hope.

I needed hope like it’s nobody’s business ,I needed peace and quiet though my classes were peaceful .

I gave the prisoners what I had loved and what gave me the escape they had previously sought in drugs;travel.

We travelled through articles I had diligently photocopied struggling to keep order of the pages I have them Australia and Christopher Colombus and New York City and Edison and science and travel as the ultimate escape .

Learning English was a by product of my campaign which if I could would be titled”what a wonderful world ”

It WAS a wonderful world I argued though each break when I was forced to be incarcerated in the teachers room I counted the minutes left till I could be reunited with my prisoners .Every now and then a prison guard would show up to count how many prisoners I had .I lost a large bear like prisoner not before he had told me a sad story of a life of crime and the future generation ,his son,following in the similar path of a brutual dormitory school and a homeless existence where drugs were the only light .

The therapy helped the bear survive,he came to realize how his behavior was automatic and preprogrammed him for a life of crime .

The bear shared with me two pages of handwritten reflections, the language was good ,the intention unclear and yes,I could very much identify and yet I kept my distance ,never revealing any facts of a family or friends or anything except when I broke my finger on an accident involving my Labrador and a street cat and a leash.

I don’t know what had motivated me to take a huge cut in pay and work for peanuts teaching prisoners English but I knew from day one there was nothing I wouldn’t do to be there and watch their faces light up as they discover how able they were to learn and how their horizon can grow wider and their minds could perhaps do that wonderous switch called attitude and think of possibilities through my corny quotes and American groomed optimism and my Israeli stubbornness to keep going despite voices that demanded bills be paid and a less financially challenged life lived.

This is my destiny to do what I believed in and nothing less, and hopefully more.

I knew I was seen naive and stupid by the Yemenite teacher whose name ironically meant “gold”who wouldn’t miss a chance to say disparaging comments upon my personality and how naive and gullible I was not I did so very much want to believe in second chances ,maybe not for my violent ex husband who had grown tired of my willingness to put up with his temper and had found his match in a sadistic Italian immigrant who never did study too much yet knew how to push his buttons better at manipulation than most people ,but I did believe in giving these men in Orange an opportunity to fly over the prison gates through my travel tours to Australia ,the former prison colony ,and to America ,the land of opportunities where I had learned that I am limited in taking advantage of golden opportunities and was perhaps destined to break bread with the poor and disenfranchised of this world and not with the users and manipulators and game players .

Perhaps I lacked financial security and personal confidence of a himan bond I could trust but i could easily care for those ignored by most of society shoved aside and left unloved.

I used big fancy words but the deeds would prove me calm and caring where I used to be nervous and unfocused .

The prisoners were good to me and I was good for them.

The gates of prison that had once reminded me of a Nazi concentration camp had now reminded me of a hamster cage where pets would be kept fed and not easily released to the wild .

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Watch “Letting go:surfing the waves” on YouTube

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Missing things

Missing trees

strong trunks

confident

cool to the touch

where squirrels

dwell and live.

I don’t want to be

another tragedy

I whisper

to a polluted river

I now call home .

I sit and watch

The sun

beat down

on what was

my yesterday

And count the days

till I pack myself

And dogs

And go West

again .

I like the setting sun

of the West

better than

The rising

sun

of the East .

The days always

pass

And I

always watch

And wait .

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Watch “Tony Robbins: How to Control Your Mind (very motivational)” on YouTube

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Watch “Helen Shapiro – Look Who It Is (Ready Steady Go, 1963)” on YouTube

They don’t write or sing songs like these anymore.

A simple tune of lovely joy !

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Chris Waats: In a nutshell

While the media  focuses on who Chris Waats was and what had caused him to murder his pregnant wife and two daughters, 3 and 4 years old, it seems to me that it is not a very complex mystery but rather a typical case of domestic violence homocide where a man feels entitled to take the lives of his wife and children , unable to separate other people’s needs and wishes and his own need to do as he pleases regardless of the consequences .

Chris Waats is not capable of telling the truth , and while that does not by itself makes him a monster, but Chris Waats is definitely a person who is dangerous to other human beings and should not be near anyone he can harm.

The way Chris Waats had handled the dead bodies of his children and wife shows a lack of ability to feel empathy .
The fact that Chris Waats actually CARES what people think of him, whether a monster or not more than he cares about his own children and wife, is tragically a result of a certain way of being brought up not to care too much about how other people feel, and also having an inborn mechanism of not being able to feel empathy to add to that a narcissistic personality disorder AND meeting a woman his opposite is why this tragedy occurred .
Women who feel a lot and care a lot SHOULD NEVER be around men who can not display or express emotions who come from families who give women and children a hard time and support a psychopath.
The quote from the bible read  by Cindy Waats, telling her son how much she had loved him ,  Chris Waats’ mother clearly showed by  the way she turned around looked at her son sitting in his orange suit and told him she forgives him  showed , in my humble opinion, a clear lack of understanding of what basic morality dictates : treating another person as you want to be treated . The Waats spoke again and again in disparaging unappreciative and frankly cruel and mean words regarding their massacred daughter in law and grand daughters. It is no wonder the Waats had produced a killer, they seem to lack basic empathy and kindness towards others and also in the case of Cindy Waats, a lack of basic understanding of what the bible stands for: a moral guideline on how to be a good and kind human being .
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