Snapshots and Synapses

I’m a fan of the Lord of the Rings, both the books and the movies, and while I believe some people can over-spiritualize Tolkien’s masterpiece, so much of this story resonates with me. For example: the Steward of Gondor is a regent from a line of regents whose role is to administer the country of Gondor until the rightful king returns. His title of “Steward” says it all; the country doesn’t belong to him, but the responsibility is clearly his. The role of a regent is bearing that responsibility and doing all that they can to see the rightful monarch ascend to the throne to ultimately support the king.  But power is a hard thing to relinquish, and transitions are seldom easy. In the movie Return of the King, the Steward of Gondor had come to see himself as the rightful ruler and his progeny as the rightful successors to the throne. When the King of Gondor finally returned during the nation’s greatest peril, the Steward was less than helpful.  Today is Shabbat Shuvah, the sabbat...

“This is a little unusual.” “I know, but she always liked to feel special, and she has always felt uncertain and scared about this moment, knowing it would come.” “No one is going to shout ‘Surprise!’, are they? God, I hope not!”  “No. No, not this time.” He said, smiling broadly with a twinkle in the eye. “They all know how she feels. But this is going be fun! I’ve been looking forward to this so much!” The young woman was cautiously walking toward them from the darkness, toward all of them, looking both concerned and confused, definitely nervous. She was beautiful! Dark hair, dark eyes, looking to be in her late twenties or possibly thirty. Like many others before her, she was confused and relieved to no longer feel the stiffness, the aches, the constant pain throughout her body. It both added to the confusion, yet encouraged her with each step. Not many people had this large of a reception, so many that knew her and were waiting for her.  The first one she recognized, the o...

Imagine this:  You are at a large house party complete with delicious food and drinks. Music is playing and people are talking, laughing, and smiling. You are there with family, friends, neighbors, some co-workers and even some folks you don’t recognize when you notice a beeping from the middle of the house. You walk over to the take a closer look at the source of the noise: a small electronic device. Hoping it’s not what you think it is, you examine it more closely and your fears are confirmed when you realize it’s a bomb! Somehow in a wacky way you don’t fully understand, you have the knowledge and expertise to know for sure that this is a lethal bomb that has been activated. It will blow up the house, leaving only a large crater. You don’t even know how you recognize the bomb, but you do. You also realize it could simply look like a bomb, a clever fake intended to make a joke of the person recognizing it. And yet you know it really is a bomb.  The beeping continues as you ...

I had a conversation with someone about values. I shared mine, and he shared his. Without going into much detail about the conversation, he valued “strength”, which struck me as strange. In my mind strength was simply a means to an end, an enabler. Strength is like money: it’s only good for what it gets you. But what I do with any of my resources, such as strength or money, that can reveal what I truly value. If we cherish something that is simply an enabler, will we ever be satisfied? Can it ever be attained? It has no intrinsic benefit, but it only enables that which is really needed. It’s been said that the only one who truly believes that money doesn’t matter has never known what it’s like to be poor. Something similar could be said about power, and maybe that’s why so many people are struggling for power. Our world is focused on power structures and power struggles; people have come to focus on power and money as the goal rather than a means to an end. I look at these enablers dif...

Continued from  Reflections of a Watchman He liked this room. It was high enough to give him the perspective that he needed but not so high that egress would be difficult. He had to keep moving so he could provide the others with timely and accurate information as they advanced. But, yeah, it was a good room. The curtains were still hanging and functional even though the windowpanes were half missing. There was even a bed in the corner. The sheets had been pulled tightly some time ago by someone who never returned to find rest, time before lawlessness took over this area. Yeah, the room was perfect for his needs tonight. Hey, and it even had reading material! Torn out and tac’d into the wall were newspaper clippings and papers that had been printed out, strings connecting the different pieces. One in particular caught his attention: Washington Tribune – Op Ed February 6, 2021 Editor’s Note: the following opinion demonstrates the Tribune’s continuing commitment to provide disse...

September days When we all know the time is short And the days grow shorter Yet more brilliant in the sky The light glistens everywhere Blinding some And guiding others September daze As one season ends and begins Hornets become feisty Attacking any target The hive threatens everyone Scented wind Seducing slumber September gaze Gleaming sights on the horizon Of a distant shoreline Piercing through the misty night The light glistens everywhere Guiding some Frustrating others copyright ©2020 Mitchell Malloy (http://mitchellmalloyblogspot.com/)