Category: Inspiration

My daughter handed me her school progress report. Although it displayed a steady stream of positive check marks, there was one check mark standing dejectedly alone from the rest.

“How am I doing, Mom?” my child asked with a level of maturity that did not match the small dishevelled person gazing up at me with smudged eyeglasses that teetered on the tip of her nose.
With her small finger, she pointed to her teacher’s neatly printed words next to the lone check mark.

It read: “Distracted in large groups.” But I already knew this. I knew this long before it was written on an official report card.

Since she was a toddler, this child has offered astute observations of the world around her.

After pointing out all the positives on the progress report, I told her what was written. Upon hearing the news, she gave a tiny, uncertain smile and shyly admitted, “I do look around a lot.”

But before my child could feel one ounce of shame, one iota of failure, I came down on bended knee and looked her straight in the eye. I didn’t want her to just hear these words, I wanted her to feel them. This is what I said:

“Yes. You do look around a lot. You noticed Sam sitting off by himself with a skinned knee on the field trip, and you comforted him.”

“You noticed Banjo had a running nose, and the vet said it was a good thing we brought him in when we did.”

“You noticed our waitress was working really hard and suggested we leave an extra good tip. You noticed Grandpa was walking slower than the rest of us so you waited for him.”

“You notice the beautiful view every time we cross the bridge to go to swim practice.”

“And you know what? I don’t ever want you to stop noticing because that is your gift. It is your gift that you give to the world.”

As I watched my daughter beam with the glow of acceptance, I realized her approach to life had the power to change the world.
You see, we are all just waiting for someone to notice—notice our pain, notice our scars, notice our fear, notice our joy, notice our triumphs, notice our courage.

And the one who notices is a rare and beautiful gift.

~Rachel Macy Stafford, author of “Hands Free Life.” Her author page is @TheHandsFreeRevolution on Facebook.

In the light of developments over the last 150 years in our understanding of the mind I think it is important to note that an idiot as Mark labelled one who does not learn from data could be further described as a person of low IQ, such as he meant, as well as somebody who is clinging fast to a false datum that contradicts what you are trying to communicate. This person can be otherwise intelligent so does not readily fit within the framework of what we call an idiot. This latter person can be otherwise quite bright, intelligent and rational, just not on this subject.

If you do not know this it can puzzle you as to why some otherwise intelligent people can be so off the mark on a subject.

Then there are those evil people who profit from lies and deceit, like Fauci, Gates, Soros et al.

The term Conspiracy Theorist was coined by the FBI to discredit any critical thinker who pointed out the holes in the Warren Commission’s report into JFK’s assassination.

It should probably be worn as a badge of honour rather than taken as an insult!

I hired a plumber to help me restore an old farmhouse, and after he had just finished a rough first day on the job: a flat tire made him lose an hour of work, his electric drill quit and his ancient one ton truck refused to start.

While I drove him home, he sat in stony silence. On arriving, he invited me in to meet his family. As we walked up the front walk, he paused briefly at a small tree, touching the tips of the branches with both hands.

When opening the door he underwent an amazing transformation.. His face was wreathed in smiles and he hugged his two small children and gave his wife a kiss.

Afterward he walked me to the car. We passed the tree and my curiosity got the better of me. I asked him about what I had seen him do earlier.

‘Oh, that’s my trouble tree,’ he replied ‘I know I can’t help having troubles on the job, but one thing’s for sure, those troubles don’t belong in the house with my wife and the children.. So I just hang them up on the tree every night when I come home and ask God to take care of them. Then in the morning I pick them up again.’ ‘Funny thing is,’ he smiled,’ when I come out in the morning to pick ’em up, there aren’t nearly as many as I remember hanging up the night before.

Life may not be the party we hoped for, but while we are here we might as well dance. We all need a Trouble Tree!