I am a writer and a thinker, or perhaps a thinker and a writer because usually, that is the order of things—I think too much, and then I write.

NEW AND EXCITING

Peruse my essays free of charge today and any day. But soon, my Bullshit Detection Service will go live. I recently discovered that Self-Certification is now a marketable credential and when I began to consider the possibilities, I could barely contain my excitement! My skill set is vast, from that-thing-I-heard-about-once to my extensive, thousands-of-hours of experiential knowledge. It has been challenging to choose which skill to sell to you. It’s becoming increasingly difficult to distinguish oneself in the thrilling new marketplace of Self-Certification with countless sectors (health care, mental health care, fitness, nutrition, coaching, clairvoyance, energy healing, and journalism—to name a few) already saturated with talent. So, I’ve chosen an offering that is exceedingly rare and that, with my background, I am uniquely positioned to provide. (To verify the qualifications of my background, just read my book—link to purchase bottom of page.) To inquire about Bullshit Detection—link just below.

HOLD YOUR TONGUE

How do we change the world if we keep it to ourselves,

if we silence the roars of intuition

within the confines of our own minds?

How do we move the needle

forward—

inching, persisting,

if the benefit of the doubt is default?

Do we plead and beg to see the humanity

because if we see the ugliness, we will have to act?

Nothing’s so simple as it seems—I know that.

If we boil down humanity to basic goodness,

do ugliness and rancor dissipate in the steam that rises from the cauldron of the human condition?

Judgement.

If not mine, then who’s?

Who is to draw a line, any line?

Who is to say, enough is enough?

Who defines basic goodness?

I cannot hold my tongue,

nor can I speak my mind.

I cannot stand quietly by,

nor can I draw a line

 in the sand.

And so, that is my question.

Where am I in time and space?

Where within the cycles that circle endlessly ‘round, will land the impact of my punches, and my stomps,

and my knowing?

If I plant my feet firmly, with mouth closed,

will the resolution of my determination seep into universal consciousness?

What is it to know—

if not to speak?