Tag Archives: compassion


Pic huge Red rose

It’s almost May and the roses in my garden are bursting into a spread of the most beautiful colors you can imagine. From a delicate pink to Black Magic burgundy, all those beauties pop up and swell right before my eyes. And it all happens in my little-piece-of-heaven – my wonderful garden.

And the aromas? Well, close your eyes and one whiff of Double Delight can carry you to far off exotic places. It does that for me.

And it does something else.

Those aromas speak to me in secret code. They reveal hidden messages, different for each and every one of us, I’m sure. But for me, a beautiful flower in the open air, under the warm sun, makes me think of secrets, of underground caves (how crazy is that when you’re talking about roses?) where primitive drawings decorate the walls. Those drawings reveal the unseen connections that unite all kinds of people across the planet, no matter how close or how far. The drawings always speak of common experiences.

And why wouldn’t they?

We are all made of stardust. Every single one of us. Think of it: Stardust.

And we live on one planet in a vast galaxy within a wondrous universe where invisible threads reach out to every living entity, whether it’s animal, plant, rock, or even right down to the core of the earth.


Have you ever planted a tree, and as you dig you visualize that tree mature and magnificent, all the time knowing you’ll never be there when it reaches its true potential? Still, there’s something deep inside that calls to you, demands that you lay down the seeds of tomorrow. In some way, we are all connected to that tomorrow.

That feeling , that hope is passed from one generation to another and it calls for us to take care of our home, Planet Earth, to keep  it green, keep it alive, prepare it for those who are yet to come. That’s part of our mission, what we’re meant to do. We need to listen to that inner voice, hang onto it, keep it alive, not just for us, but for those of tomorrow. We have to remember that we are connected to those tomorrows, those futures, even if we are no longer here to see them.

Earth Day was April 22nd, and each year when it arrives I am hopeful because I know there are people all over the globe who are going to wake up and realize that it’s now or never to save our world from total destruction, to save all the living beings that occupy it. But as unbelievable as it is, the destruction is accelerating. That not only disappoints me, it makes me desperate. Why can’t we understand that now is the time to try to save our world, take the moment to question our existence in this vast, wondrous universe. Really look at the rampant greed that is crushing everything: Trees are dying, animals are dying, oceans are dying. And when I say dying, I mean heading for extinction.

Gone forever!

Can’t you feel it? Can’t you feel the sadness?

Those days, when that sadness overcomes me, and I feel only the hopelessness of it all, is when I wander into my rose garden. I  prune, water, and smell the flowers with their scent of hope.

When I’m there, I just know people are going to wake up, look around, and finally realize that the responsibilities for our tomorrows rest solely on our shoulders

Picture flower thru pavement.

TheOrganHarvestersBette COVER

The Organ Harvesters (Assent Publishing) Winner! The 2014 Stellar Sci-fi Contest For Science Fiction Dystopian Novel.

A damning evaluation of a system that had put technological advancements ahead of human rights, and protection of the environment.





Pic Swirl

 Each 24-hour period in my life is a desperate race against time — a frantic, mind-boggling sprint where I have to strangle, squeeze, wrestle, out-distance every single second.

Nothing, I mean nothing, ever fits perfectly into one day. And everything that’s not completed always splashes over into the next day, or the next two days, maybe even eternity.

And why does that happen?

Because over the years I’ve morphed into too many people: wife, mother, friend, nurse, painter, potter, sculptor, gardener, reader, music lover, and on and on. Has it ever been easy? No! Life is always too big to manage. But somehow it has been all right; it was working. Then came a blow that pierced my carefully managed world. It destroyed any illusion that time could ever be dealt with: I became a writer. How did that happen? And who burst my happy little bubble? J. J. Lamb. It’s all his fault. He wouldn’t listen to me.

Well, if I have to be fair, he did listen, but he wouldn’t tackle a story idea that I thought was (of course) FANTASTIC. I hounded him (one might say nag if one didn’t value one’s life). And it wasn’t like I mentioned it every day, but I have to admit it was out there at least monthly.

Finally, he turned to me and said, “If that story is ever going to see the light of day, you have to write it.”

That did it. And it was the chisel that splintered my solid rock of self-deception — it shattered it into hundreds of searching personalities that either flow in harmony or pull and tear at each other.

And guess what? He’s had to live with it ever since. That’s how Karma works.

Did you ever want to freeze time? I mean have everything stop? Stop spinning? STOP!

Everyone would be trapped in a kind of time warp, lost in their own world, while I could move at my own chosen pace. Imagine, 24-hour cycles wouldn’t exist. I could stretch a day into 36 hours. Or 72 hours.

Now that’s cool.

You could take (or is it steal?) the time to really look around.

It’s all right there, even now. You might see things for the first time. Look at people’s faces, really look. Take the time to really see their expressions, really see their body language and read it. Study their eyes in depth – look into their souls, and maybe even know what’s in their hearts.

TheOrganHarvestersBette COVER

The Organ Harvesters (Assent Publishing) Winner! The 2014 Stellar Sci-fi Contest For Science Fiction Dystopian Novel.

A damning evaluation of a system that had put technological advancements ahead of human rights, and protection of the environment.

Five ***** “Compelling from cover to cover.”




Pic. Elephant eye

There is mystery behind that masked gray visage, an ancient life force, delicate and mighty, awesome and enchanted, commanding the silence ordinarily reserved for mountain peaks, great fires, and the sea. —  Peter Matthiessen

I wish people were more like elephants.

Funny, huh?

But if you’re anything like me, you can’t help but enjoy seeing how elephants interact and live their lives – and it’s all there to watch every day on FaceBook. I could spend hours with them on the screen.

Rolling in the mud doesn’t look like real fun to me, even though elephants love it. Those mud baths help protect their sensitive skin, sort of like our sun screen. But splashing, rolling around in the water is more what I like to do. It’s not much different than going to the beach and throwing yourself into the ocean, especially if it’s the Caribbean or Hawaiian waters.

Take a moment, watch them care for their young, or the injured. It’s truly a community endeavor. Everyone looks out for every individual and no one is ever alone, unless they want to be.

I wish people could be that way and live in a world where everyone in their community cared about each other.

If an elephant youngster or any other member of the group falls or gets in some kind of trouble, several others come to comfort and take care of that individual. They encircle to create their own hospital unit, give their own treatment and do the best they can to save each other.  They are so kind and wise, and it seems so natural for them to love each other. Why can’t people learn to be that way and stop living such separate lives?

Elephant culture.

I wish I understood their language so whatever secrets they’ve learned can be passed on to us. What is it they are saying to each other that teaches them to be the way they are —such soulful beings. However they do it, they seem to communicate a sense of love and commitment that most humans don’t seem very interested in.

Maybe it’s because they’re naked.

No, really. They don’t worry about wearing the latest high-fashion shoes that look more like stilts in training for high acrobatics, or feel the need to buy new clothes every week, as though shopping is a human endeavor essential to growth and understanding.

What is human culture? What is it about?

Is it consumerism?

Maybe that’s what keeps us uncaring and isolated from each other. And most consumers already have so much that the same money could be spent on assisting others in their community (our herd). We could help people who haven’t enough to eat. Imagine trying to survive on the streets where people have to save their food to feed their young, while they go hungry.

Our Earth is dying all around us. What we’re not killing, climate change is. Even with all our instruments and scientific savvy, and our superior intelligence, humans have yet to find a cohesive way to act in their own best interests.

Where do elephants get that kind of wisdom?

They know when it’s time to migrate, time to search for water to survive. They understand their world, and they even know when it’s time to die. Each member of the herd acts not only in its best interest, but in the interests of its community.

That’s their world.

What’s wrong with us? Why can’t we be that way, too?

Coming Soon: The Organ Harvesters
A damning evaluation of a system that had put technological advancements ahead of human rights, and protection of the environment




I think you’ll agree doctors and nurses are really special people. You trust them with your body, share your hopes and dreams with them, even tell them dark secrets you wouldn’t dare to tell your spouse or lover, mother or father. These unique people sit with you in the dead of night while you whisper, making sure no one else can hear. In return, they respond with a different language. They squeeze your hands tighter and tighter and seem to always know what you need, what you want, just as though you were screaming it from the rooftops.
Keep me alive; give me one more day, one more hour. That’s what you want. You want them to stave off the angel of death, make him go away.
Please. Your eyes beg as you watch your world close in on you. Please give me more time … only a few minutes … only a second more.
Forget the bravado. We all know what I’m saying is true.
And yet, we take medical people, those doctors and nurses, for granted, even as they’re trying to save us.
Why do they keep doing it?
It complicated, yet simple at the same time. It’s because that’s who they are, it’s what they chose to do, to be. It’s a calling, a need to save, to have impact. And that’s what they do — they impact your future, your life.
If you were injured or hurt and you were screaming for help, most people would look away, even run in the opposite direction. They’d need to get away from the sight of your splattering blood or the shards of your fractured bones, or your painful struggle to take in that final breath.
Who stays? Who stands their ground with you until the end?
Doctors, nurses, EMTs. Those are the people who dive in to save you.
Now close your eyes and imagine those doctors and nurses disappearing from our busy, thriving cities, our spreading suburbs. What does the healthcare landscape look like then?
Will the speed of changing technology make our future change ever faster and faster? I think by mid century probably most doctors will be clustered behind desks, taking orders from superiors whose bottom lines have nothing to do with your health as an individual. Those people in power, the ones who always get the best of care, will direct the doctors of tomorrow on how your dying organs, or your debilitating illness, will be treated, if at all.
Patient care?
That will be carried out by technicians trained to follow orders without a second thought. Without question.
Do I mean technicians like the ones who work at virtual labs?
Will they even be human?
Think again about the doctor whose shoulder you cry on, helping you through every step of a difficult procedure, or the nurse who’s by your side while your body does unspeakable things to you. What about those people in the future?
Color them gone. They won’t be there. They’ll have morphed into a different kind of caretaker.
Am I saying robots?
Well, they won’t be metal clunkers. Those things you see in movie fantasies.
No, no, no. After all, we are a humane society, aren’t we? Future caretakers will at least look like people, talk like people, and even try to pat you on the shoulder … like people. But that touch won’t feel quite right because nothing can take the place of someone’s arm around you, holding you with compassion.
Welcome to a new world – tomorrow’s world. A dystopian world where individuality is not appreciated.
And what if you rebel? Continue to think like an individual?
What do you think they’ll do to you?