Monday Journal Entries

April 4, 2018

There’s nothing like mucking manure to make one feel productive.  It stinks, it’s back breaking and no one just loves to do it, and yet, once I get started, I’m usually pretty content.  It’s a mindless job which means I can let my thoughts drift and the time can be just about as close to meditation as time on a mountain top with pristine views.  I spent some time yesterday morning doing just that: mucking, meditating and building back some muscle I have lost over the winter.  I’m trying to get the shelters cleaned up and ready for when the Jerseys start calving and it’s always a good feeling to have things in order.  All but one shelter/stall has been cleaned and the one left is one that I never use for calving anyway.  (I will get to it too eventually.)  With the worst of the weather behind us and lots of clean, green grass coming up, I just shut off the clean areas so the cows don’t have access until I am ready to use it for calving.  Everyone does things a bit different with their homestead/family cows but I have typically kept cow and calf together in a smaller area for a few days before letting them out in the fields again.  (I dam raise my calves.  I could never stand the thought of pulling a baby off it’s momma and bottle feeding it, although many family cow owners advocate this method.)  Keeping the cow and calf in a smaller area for a few days makes it easier on me to keep track of them, observe their health and well being, make sure the calf is nursing adequately, protects the calf from predators and keeps the calf from accidentally getting separated from its momma.  (Having smaller calves, they tend to slide under fences and hide in the darndest places which can give a farmer heart failure!) I still have a lot of cleaning I want and need to do in Staunton but time is always limited because the majority of my time is spent taking care of my Little People and feeding and picking up after the Big People in the house, but we are on a down hill slide with that, as the first week in May will be the last week I watch the kids.  Every day, I just do what I can.  Things never get finished or caught up, but I make progress, although some days it doesn’t feel like it.  After working outside at such a dirty job, I took a shower so that I could go into Verona.  A shower never feels so good as when one is super dirty and stinky.  I ran by the Factory Antique Mall to pick up a check and straighten up the booths. I am not spending a lot of time at the booths now which is the beauty of selling in this manner and why we have stuck with booth rental instead of selling on ebay.  I am able to walk away from the antiques and spend only a few moments every other week straightening the booths, rearranging a bit, and picking up a check.  We have not been adding a lot of new items lately either which has cut back on my time spent in that regard.  We just have not had any sales locally to attend and have spent our time concentrating on work around the farm in Laurel Fork.  Although I enjoy it, I am actually glad to back off for a little bit.  It’s been interesting to see that while sales have been slow for the last few months (a typical cycle for the winter months after Christmas) we have sold some items that have sat around for a while and it’s good to see those things move.  I stopped by the grocery and dollar stores and then headed back home to get supper prepped since I was to have the girls for five hours while Alissa went to class.  I managed to get a small amount of house cleaning in as well.  Rory took a late afternoon nap but when she awoke was out of sorts and pretty much cried the last three hours that Alissa was gone.  Analia, who is very sensitive to sounds, put her hearing protection on for a while.  It’s not funny, I suppose, but I have to smile at my unique Little People, their quirky ways, and how funny we would appear if someone were watching us.  In the midst of all the chaos, my grandma called for our nightly talk.  Even though I have gently told her time and again that on Monday and Tuesdays it might be better if she waits for me to call her so that I am not watching the kids as we talk, she always calls anyway.  She waits all day and just can’t wait any longer.  She will call and if I have the kids in the tub or the baby is crying or for some other reason I am unable to answer her immediately, she will hang up and call right back and continue to do so until I answer, each time leaving a more frantic message because she can’t reach me.  For this reason, I try my best to answer or to call her right back if I miss the call(s).  Last night Rory had been crying pretty hard for a while and I answered the phone letting Nan know that it might be hard for us to talk but when Rory heard Nan’s voice on the phone she stopped crying.  I put Nan on speaker phone and she talked to Rory and Rory just giggled and baby talked up a storm to Nan.  It was the cutest thing and made them both feel good. 

April 7, 2018

I have not been able to write this week as I have had Analia with me 24/7.  I guess some folks would say that it’s my fault that I don’t hardly get a moments break when I am caring for the kids.  Maybe, I am just a push over and give in too much, reading to them when I should be working, playing with them when I should make them play by themselves, allowing them to be near me instead of in another room by themselves, or generally just “spending too much time with them”.  I don’t regret one minute that I spent with my son and daughter.  I remember trips to the lakes, hikes in the woods, games played, middle of the day weenie roasts, reading books aloud, fun science experiments, hanging out watching movies, camping out on the living room floor in front of the fireplace together, and many other activities that we enjoyed together.  The days I spent homeschooling my kids I don’t regret either.  Folks, including family members, said I should send them to school.  When I felt the time was right, I did send them to school, but for those first few years, my decision to keep them home and school them myself was the right choice.  I didn’t know then…..all those years ago…..that my time would be cut short with my son and that he would never get to live the life of an adult.   I didn’t dream at the time I was spending the hours with my kids that one of them would be gone so soon.  Now looking back, it makes my decisions to spend time with them all the more relevant.  And now, with my grandkids, I always think of the brevity of life when I need to make a decision as to whether I will spend the time, read the book, play the game, and so forth.  Of course, I don’t always say “yes” when they ask me to do something, but the thought always enters my mind that I might not always have the opportunities that I have now and if others think my time with them is spoiling them, they are welcome to their opinions, as I am too busy just loving my babies.   

I’ve had so much going through my mind this week and have not taken the time to write it down.  To write it down is to process it for me….and until I process, so much just goes round and round in my head.  I’ve been reminded again this week that when I become irritated with someone else for whatever reason (even if my irritation is justifiable which it isn’t always) that the bottom line is that I need to allow the situation to help me to focus in on my own issues and work on them.  I feel like I need to process some things that I allowed to “push my buttons” and reach a little deeper into the areas where I need growth, but this week has been a “one foot in front of the other” type of week to meet the demands of all that we have had going on.  To be concise, without having been able to really process my thoughts in detail, I will just say that I have been reminded that our greatest contentment as individuals comes when we are able to accept and understand that it is not our place to control the lives of others including their choices and their responses.  In addition, when we are able to accept ourselves, our decisions, our own choices without needing the acceptance of anyone else, then we are truly free.  It’s a hard line to walk………loving others and wanting to be empathetic, kind, understanding……and yet having the boundaries in place that offer us some protection.  Letting people make their own mistakes even if we think we know better (or them doing the same for us) is such a difficult thing to do.  Possibly totally unrelated but also in and out of my thought process this week is the idea that accepting oneself without the need for other’s approval is the ticket to living freely in life.  Sometimes, I am successful………hugely successful at finding this kind of freedom and sometimes, I am not.  When I am not, when I start giving into anxiety, frustration, anger, or any negative feeling that I feel stems from someone else’s response to me, that is when I need to look deep and realize that I am the one who need to grow bigger.  I am the one being given the opportunity to become more mature.  Will I?

April 8, 2018

Wednesday, I awoke early.  I often do and get up and move around because I have a good bit of pain in my right hip.  I think it is probably mostly arthritis and I keep refusing to see a doctor about it.  I have a high pain tolerance and don’t take medicine unless absolutely necessary, so going to the doctor is pretty pointless.  Learning to manage on my own is more my style.  I take natural anti-inflammatories like turmeric and only resort to ibuprofen when I am really hurting badly and can’t get relief.  I try to walk and move around a lot, changing positions to get relief.  Standing, sitting, or lying in one place for a long period of time makes me uncomfortable, so when I get to hurting too badly at night and can’t sleep, I just get up and read or write.  After being awake for about three hours early Wednesday morning, I laid back down before daylight and then slept a couple hours, getting up a little past eight.  Mike had breakfast at his mom’s house, a ritual that has taken place for years that started back when he was helping run the dairy, and then came back to help me move cattle.  With Alissa and Gab going out of town for a few days and our being gone as well towards the latter part of the week, we wanted to move the Herefords into a field with an automatic watering trough.  Moving the Herefords went very well.  They simply walked across the field, through the gate, across the open area, and into the other gate and field.  I wanted to move my Jersey bull over into the field with the Herefords and that ended up being a little more involved.  The younger bull, not quite a year old, already in with the Herefords, was showing off on one side of the fence, snorting, pawing and blowing as he tried to show his Papa that he was “big stuff”.  The older bull responded with blowing and snorting back at him, as they engage in a show of who could display the most testosterone.  I figured the big bull would simply come through the gate into the new field when I opened it, but not a chance.  Instead, he stood back and carried on making a show of his strength.  Mike finally got frustrated because his ideas and my ideas of how to move the bull didn’t match and he basically told me since I knew how to do it, then do it myself.  Nothing like moving cattle to make us both short tempered.  I did refrain from cussing, but blew my stack a few times in the process of trying to get the bull to move.  Would have been easier if I didn’t have cattle on both sides trying to escape every time I opened the gate to try to entice the raging bull to enter.  I always figure that having patience and being calm is the best way to handle cattle.  It seems when we get stressed and want to move quickly that thing just escalate, so after Mike left to get the tractor to move the round bale feeder and feed hay, I let the Jersey girls navigate to the back part of the field and opened a gate to the holding area enticing them in with a bucket of grain.  (The Jerseys only get grain when they are in the stanchion and have not had any since last fall, so they were ready for a bit of a treat and walked right in.)  I figured the bull would be too cautious to push his way in and fortunately, I was right about that.  I had a quick escape over the fence planned if he came in aggressively but he stood back and watched the cows come in and then I closed the gate and waited.  Eventually, he did come back around to the front and by that time, the Herefords had moved out to explore the “new” field and I had the gat open between the two fields.  He hardly hesitated this time and walked through the gate and away into the field leaving me to shut the gate behind him.  With Mike delayed at the barn (by what I assumed was another phone call), I went back in the house and waited for him to return.  The wind was bitter and I was cold.  When he finally made it back, I opened the gates for him so he could set the round bale feeder having moved it from another field and put some hay in it.  We feed free choice hay and even though the grass is just starting to come out, there’s not enough grass alone to sustain the cattle.  Until we were ready to leave for Laurel Fork, I spent the rest of the morning and early afternoon cleaning house. 

Analia was pretty good about coming with us but did ask several times if she could go to Florida with her mommy and daddy.  It wasn’t that she didn’t want to come with us but rather that she was afraid she was going to miss out on something fun in Florida!  Alissa was presenting at a conference there and she took the baby along with her.  The conference was a pretty difficult one to get accepted to, so we were excited that Alissa had this opportunity.  We had several stops to make on the way south and we stopped at a small, Italian restaurant in Riner that we had talked about trying.  The servers were super kind to Analia who had picked out her own ensemble of clothing to wear when I told her it was cold and she needed to dress warm.  She had on a shirt with writing on it, a tutu, and a pair of blue pajama bottoms underneath, with a jacket and a sweater.  Her glasses always seem to overwhelm her delicate features and big brown eyes and altogether she was absolutely adorable. 

When we arrived home just before dark, I asked Analia if she would like to help me take care of the chickens.  We have ten pullets and since they are not laying yet, I can leave them in the spacious house when we are away for a few days with plenty of food and water and the fair just fine but as soon as we arrive, I go to check on them.  We walked in nonchalantly and I thought to myself “there doesn’t seem to be enough chickens here”.  I counted eight.  I thought I miscounted so I tried again.  Still, I only got eight.  I looked around for signs of struggle….feathers, blood, dead bodies….wondering how anything could have gotten in to harm my chickens but I saw nothing.  That’s when I looked up and saw that one whole window was broken out.  There was no sign of branches having hit the window and we are really not sure what happened.  The wind had been blowing very hard and the windows are old so we assume that the force of the wind was just enough to break the glass at some weak point.  This is the second story of an old, commercial chicken house and while anything is possible, it is not probable that an animal broke the glass at that height unless a large bird like a hawk flew into the glass and broke it.  I figured at this point that I had lost two of my best looking chickens.  Analia was shaking by this time with all kinds of imaginations running through her mind.  (The child is well read and had visions of all kinds of creatures breaking the window to steal the chickens.)  We walked outside and I heard the bark of a fox not too far away.  “Great”, I told Analia, “I bet the fox got those chickens that flew out the window.”  About that time, movement in the Mountain Laurel above the stream caught my eye and I peered closely.  There sat both chickens, perched above the stream on a branch.  I called to Mike to tell him what was going on and took Analia inside to get her a warmer coat.  By this time, between excitement and the cold, she was shaking profusely.  When I returned, Mike had the chickens close to their house and we were able together to get them into the bottom part of the two-story building where we could catch them and take them back to roost with the others up top.  Mike handed me the first chicken and I left Analia standing outside while I carried the pullet upstairs.  I heard Analia talking below.  A roofing contractor had come by and he said, “Hi!  Is your grandpa here?”  Analia’s response, “Yes.  Who are you?”  Poor little thing was all worked up by this time….escaped chickens, fox, a nasty cold wind blowing and strangers showing up right at dark.  After getting the chickens settled safely, Analia and I left Mike outside with the contractor and we went inside to warm up the house that had been sitting cold for several days.  I stuck Analia in a warm bath and when she got out got her settled I into some warm, comfortable night clothes. 

I didn’t plan on getting anything done this trip knowing I would have Analia with me and wanting to make this time together special for her.  Thursday was a fairly decent day with sunshine, although a little cool.  We played outside and she had fun bringing treats to the chickens and holding them.   She has her favorite, one that is smaller than the others and not as pretty.  She asked me what their names were and I told her that they weren’t named but she could name them if she wanted to.  She started trying to name them and I asked her if she was going to remember their names to which she replied, “Well, let’s just name them all Jessie.”  So, we have ten chickens named Jessie now.  Analia loves to swing and we did a lot of that.  We kept the bird feeders filled and watched the birds.  We baked cup cakes using the vintage mixer because she asked to use it and she wanted to wear one of my vintage aprons.  She was an adorable little “baker” and had so much fun.  She did a good job playing by herself at times.  I have a miniature china tea set that I saved back for her to play with when she is here as well as some small china dolls.  The are only about an inch tall and are very old but have broken limbs that are covered by their little silk dresses.  She loves to play with those as well.  It is something different from the toys she has in Staunton and it entertains her for long periods of time.  We also have lots of vintage children’s books that she loves to read when visiting.  I also allowed her to play with the cast iron toys that belonged to my grandfather when he was a little boy:  a tractor, a car, a horse and cart, and another horse drawing a carriage with a man driving it and a woman in the back.  The man and woman are both removable on that one. 

Friday was my day to bake bread and I got it started before she woke up, but I let her knead and shape her own loaf to bake.  She was so proud of that miniature loaf.  We played outside some on Friday too but it was a little cooler than Thursday.  The wind was still blowing.  A friend stopped by from out of state and we all went to eat at the little restaurant down the road.  The folks in there are getting to know us and the atmosphere reminds me of that old show “Cheers” about all the locals that hang out in the bar on a regular basis.  While this is a family restaurant and not a bar, the same folks hang out there, staying much longer than it takes to eat a meal.  You might see a “customer” jump up and help if things get busy.  The cook will come out and chat with folks when it is slow.  The waitresses know you by name and can get your drinks by memory.  The owner shows up in muck boots straight from her farm and waits on tables or works on taxes over in the corner at her desk.  And, everyone makes over all the Little People that come in the restaurant.  I love it when folks treat children like they are special and it is not as common anymore for people to really talk to small children.  I guess our society dictates that we be careful about being too forward with children because of all the evil people in the world, but it’s nice to just see good people interacting like folks use to with children.  The cook came out and talked to Analia and then when she was finished eating, he brought her a brownie.  Analia doesn’t get many sweets but this week she has gotten a plenty but I couldn’t refuse the kind man’s gift to her.  She was so excited that she jumped up, ran across the room and hugged him before she even realized what she was doing and then when she realized she had just hugged a stranger, her face turned pink with embarrassment.  It was really cute.  The waitress changed the station from programs that were filled with adult drama to a children’s program for her.  It was really nice.  Friday in addition to holding the chickens named Jessie, swinging, and playing outside, we threw dandelions in the stream and watched them float under the bridge, then we would run to the other side to watch them immerge and float downstream.  We spent some time in the barn with Papa who was working to replace the boards in the loft that have rotted, now that we have a roofing contractor coming next week to replace the roof.  (What an ordeal that has been!)  I told Analia stories about when I was a kid and living on a farm and how we had a rope swing in the loft where we would swing and then drop to the floor onto the hay when we were finished swinging. Analia loves for me to tell her stories of when I was a little girl.  We also talked to Nan (my grandma) who was very confused at times.  On Friday she just couldn’t understand that it wasn’t Thursday and repeatedly called my brother who kept trying to convince her that it was Friday and that’s why Lou was not there with her.  (Friday is Lou’s day off.)  Finally, she called Jimmy and told him that she didn’t know why he told her it was Thursday because her phone said it was Friday.  So, what do you do?  You just have to say ok and go on because she doesn’t know how confused she is sometimes. 

The local auction house postponed this week’s auction making it almost a month since we have been which suits me fine.  I don’t mind going but I also don’t mind not going.  The weather by this time had turned nasty again.  It was cold with the temperatures dropping even more, a rain moved in and still it was windy.  Mike wasn’t feeling the best, with a slightly sore throat.  I am hoping it’s just the smoke from the brush fires he has been burning that has caused the sore throat.  I asked him if he wanted to drive to Floyd, which is about 30 minutes up the parkway from our house.  I have been wanting to check out the Floyd General Store, an old building where they have a small restaurant featuring homestyle food and desserts made with local ingredients when possible, and an area with a stage where they feature bluegrass and folk music.  On Saturdays, they offer a free concert from noon until three.  One Saturday a month in the evenings, they have an old-fashioned radio program that they air live.  They also offer dance classes, music lessons, etc. on sight as well as have an old fashioned general store with hard candy, work clothing, pottery, novelty items, etc.  It was a neat place and pretty packed out when we arrived just after noon.  There were no seats and we didn’t stay long.  Even though it was raining, we walked down the street to several different shops.  We spent some time in an antique mall and went to the old-fashioned hardware store and looked around.  We also went into a little shop where they refurbish and repurpose all the items they have for sale.  Inside we met this charming “hippie” lady about my age, possibly a little older, who was full of life and a natural extrovert.  She said she was a “seer” and dresses up with brightly colored skirts and scarf for Floyd Fest every year.   She adored Analia.  She spoke highly of Analia’s manners and told her how smart she is and really bragged on her glasses.  I was so pleased that she focused on these things instead of gushing over how cute or pretty she is.  She made Analia feel so special and was so generous with her time for a little girl. 

Around nightfall, the rain turned to snow as the temperatures fell and we got about an inch of accumulation which stuck around until the temps started rising Sunday morning.  Each time it snows, I wonder if this will be the last one for this season, but they keep on coming.  Mike predicts about two more weeks before we really see spring.  The birds were happy with the full feeders this morning and we enjoyed watching them eat.  We saw some of the turkeys as well, and a pair of Canadian geese at the pond across the road.  Last night as the snow began to fall, we saw several deer come out of the pines beside the house and make their way across the field toward the spring.  I love watching the wildlife. 

When I awoke before dawn this morning, the sky was clear and I could count the stars from the bedroom window.  I heard Analia sleeping soundly beside me.  Multiple times this week I have dreamed of Josh.  I don’t dream of him often, but when I do, my dreams are vivid and it is just as if he were with me once again.  I don’t know if having a little one with me all week made me more inclined to dream of him or if it is the fact that so many things about Analia remind me of him.  There’s the shape of her mouth, the way she contemplates, and her obsession with repeating every line of a movie she sees.  At any rate, my heart aches when I dream of Josh because it is almost as if I have been with him again for a little while…………………and whose to say that I haven’t?  I have also heard it said that when someone leaves this earth, they open the portals to heaven and we occasionally feel the presence of ones gone on before when that happens.  Do I believe that?  Probably not, but there are times I could almost be convinced for it feels like Josh is so close. We had a friend pass from this life this week after contracting the flu which turned into pneumonia.  He was so healthy one week and the next, fighting for his life.  His passing and the vivid dreams I have had about Josh make me think about the idea of a portal between heaven and earth and their being times when we just feel closer to the spirits of those gone on before.  And maybe it was more negative things I have contemplated this week in the back of my mind that made my heart yearn to be close to Josh and caused me to dream so vividly of him.  Mostly when I dream of him, I see him as a little boy, happy, and sharing joy with me.  There was some of that in these dreams but there was also an urgency to protect him from harm in my dreams.  Waking to the sound of my granddaughter sleeping soundly and peacefully was comforting. Love never dies and while one learns to go on living, one never stops loving their child who has gone on before them and the pain is always there in some capacity.  I am just so very thankful that I have been able to find a life of joy in spite of the loss. I am so very, very blessed to have so much joy to hold onto. 

April 9, 2018

The girls were reunited last night around midnight when Alissa and Gab got in from their trip to Florida.  Aurora was one very happy little girl to see Analia and I think Analia would have been more expressive had she been awake when they got home.  Instead, Analia just cuddled up to her momma with a little smile on her face.  She did finally get up and hug and kiss her sister and the two of them were so cute. 

A short night for me, not getting to bed until midnight and then back up to watch the girls this morning.  It is spitting snow again, so I am wondering if Blue Ridge College is going to cancel classes and perhaps Alissa will be home.  If not, then I will have a 14-hour day of babysitting today.  This marks week four until my five your tenure is officially over.  Yes, I am counting the weeks and yes, it is bittersweet.  I realize daily how much I am going to miss my babies.  I already do miss the twins, not having them on weekly basis.  We will try to continue the every-other week activities with all of the grands.  We are tremendously blessed to be able to invest so much of our lives into our little people. 

My mind continues to swirl with the challenges that I face from this past week, seeking ways to become a better person by taking negative feelings and learning to turn them around and open myself to an attitude that promotes growth and strengthens character.  Mikey’s fiancé sent me a poetic writing that hit home, reminding me that always when we struggle it is because we have allowed the focus to be upon ourselves……… the “I”, “Me” syndrome.  It is ok that we have struggles but I can’t allow my struggles to be projected onto someone else.  That is the bottom line.  So, when the things that other say and do seem unjust, critical, judgmental, insensitive, annoying, etc. and don’t meet up to my ideals of how I think the world should be, I myself must refrain from having a judgmental or “fix it” attitude.  None of us can understand the pain of another and how difficult their road might be.  If someone’s attitude seems frivolous about things that bring us or others deep pain, then maybe we can find it in our hearts to be thankful that they have not experienced some of the pain that we have experienced and have no knowledge of how their words and actions could be harmful to others.  I once spent a good bit of time talking to one of my cow share customers who had never experienced any type of significant loss in his life.  Nothing.  He had lived somewhat of a charmed life, had never grieved the loss of a family member close to him, had enough money to do the things he wanted to do, was healthy, had friends and a nice home.  He once directed some hurtful gossip he had heard about the death of our niece, Angela, upon me to see my if my reaction to the gossip would verify it as true or false.  Having just 13 months prior to Angela’s death gone through my son’s death as well, I was super sensitive to the words of others who could speak of their deaths in such insensitive manner, not taking into consideration that there were friends and family who could be hurt by their talk, whether they deemed their talk truth or were simply propagating gossip. I became very agitated with this friend and cow share member and told him passionately that I hoped he never experienced such a horrible event as the death of a child, or the death of a niece or nephew still in high school. I explained to him how my son’s death had become such a topic of conversation filled with some truths and some suppositions, not only with individuals who know of the family but with strangers who wanted to discuss his controversial death on public forums.   When I finished talking to him, he apologized and explained that he had no way of knowing that type of pain….or really any type of pain at all for he had never experienced, as a man in his 40’s, any type of negativity in his life.  He told me sincerely, that he would no longer be a part of the talk about our family’s pain.  He and I went on to be better friends and later, when he and his wife divorced, I saw him in town and he said to me with sadness, “I still don’t know the depth of your pain, but I do understand now what it is like to experience loss.”  Mike and I talked just last night of another incident involving a somewhat similar type situation where someone we know has lost something important to them……….they have not lost their child, but they have lost that feeling of being able to protect their child from harm.  We talked about the fact that one can’t know, and it’s impossible to understand unless that person has a point of reference that has touched them personally.  This person now has the ability to understand so much more but the thing I want to take away from these thoughts is that I must not be so judgmental of those who do the judging or who thoughtlessly say things that perhaps would better left unsaid because they can’t possibly understand the hurt that their words can cause having not endured something similar. 

Please God, help me instead of taking it to heart and focusing on “I” and the hurt it brings up in me think about “them” and say a prayer of thanks that they are oblivious to that type of pain and pray they never have to experience it.  Please help me to be able to take the focus off of me and see the bigger picture, offering grace and love instead of defensiveness or judgment. 

All things, in their true nature, are empty
Man attaches names and definitions
Concealing the void with an assumed identity
Until he forgets and takes it for real
Man assigns names to things around him
Labeling this a person or that an animal
Or this a woman and that a man
With a sweet sounding handsome name
To encourage common recognition
We forget what is merely a sham
And merge things into a new union
Giving birth to the prominent “I”
This “I” had to be the biggest and the best
This “I” must be acknowledged and superior
This “I’ must be pampered and indulged
And kowtowed to with high regard
Whenever that “I”endures disrespect
Distress takes hold like a smoldering fire
The “I” can neither eat nor sleep
The “I” syndrome alas takes hold
Only when one returns the “I Me or Mine “
To the original state of nothingness
Without any attachment to false assumptions
Shall one attain ultimate perfect peace.
 
~V Vajiramedhi