“TO BE OR NOT TO BE IS THE QUESTION…”

Whether or not William Shakespeare of Stratford-upon-Avon wrote or did not write the works attributed to him—as some claim—does not in my mind cast a shadow of a doubt that “The Tragedy of Hamlet, Prince of Denmark or HAMLET for short, dates between 1599 & 1602 and is a masterpiece of betrayal—a  blog for another day.

Today is about the phrase from Hamlet “…to be or not to be” that we the people persist saying to this day. Yet how or when the words is the question” were added to the phrase I cannot say. Perhaps the answer is in the play itself or in our need to find answers for questions that are unanswerable.

As in Shakespeare’s Hamlet, life and death is still in the balance of how we humankind are to be or not to be. Our energy is intensifying and we look to Mother Earth who looks back and asks us: to be or not to be? Generations of those who built a solid steadiness we counted on weep at our breakdown. Malevolent and Noble continually cross swords to assure a win and the people cry out: to be or not to be. Children, being children, sense the MIGHT of the swords and reach for a sanctuary. The Statue of Liberty—a gift to America from the people of France—stands in bewilderment at her role to be or not to be.

The older word Musing means thought or reflection or deliberation and broadcasts to the world…TO BE OR NOT TO BE IS THE QUESTION!

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“PROVIDENCE: UNDERCOVER OR UNCOVER…”

Janet's logo textArtists: M&M Creative Designs  

Providence is a word that means outside influence, destiny, divine intervention, fate… You get the idea. I NEED such definitions to offset the perplexed America I hear on the news and view on social media. I ask myself: “Are we truly in the days of anarchy?” If so, I’m looking for answers as to why.

But there is always that noted double-edged sword in play in the game of life; ours and that of our country. We can stay undercover or we can uncover or do both to find our truth. For it is there that our destinies dwell. 

“THE ROADS AHEAD & BEHIND…”

Signpost of TimeIs it Road 52-C in rural Iowa covered in rust-red powdery earth that billows from beneath a dented fender on farmer Abel’s truck as he drives to his corn fields?

Or a snowbound road in Bismarck, North Dakota—closed! January had waited, impatiently, for the first Canadian cold front of the season to take shape. When it did, She blew hard southward; satisfied.

Some roads are soothing, like the steady flowing motion of the Volga River where on-shore Russian hawkers, male, display their wares. Wooden stall after stall and the word nyet (Нет) hovering above the din.

There was a narrow dirt road we parked alongside so long ago. It was there my English grandmother, dressed all in black, her starched white apron blowing in the wind, waited to embrace my childhood.  

The learning-a-lesson road can be immediate or painfully long; velvety smooth or rough with jagged peril.

Maybe there’s a favorite road you drive down: the first time by accident. The second time; intentional. Something draws you even if you can’t identify it.

The Yellow Brick Road in the Wizard of Oz was wrought with flying monkeys; the Horse of a Different Color; a Wizard; Scarecrow; Tin Man; Lion, and Dorothy’s Ruby Red Slippers. Lest we forget: the Good and Wicked Witches and the Munchkins. Dorothy’s Toll Road taught her it wasn’t her ruby slippers that held the power of place. It was her intent to be there that always led directly home.

Our roads were set in motion by those who came before us. The path they honed imprinted our destiny; not predestined it. The power of place, like Dorothy discovered, is within our reach. It all depends on the roads we choose!

“Les Misérables & Redemption…”

victor hugoNO, I cannot describe for you the commanding message behind the music of “Les Misérables;” based on a French historical novel by Victor Hugo first published in 1862. However, I can express that the message within the music is as crystal clear today as then.

Example: I dreamed a dream in time gone by when hope was high and life worth living.

Example: One day more; another day, another destiny.

Have we humankind forgotten that the miserable among us are one day them and one day us? That destiny is an irresolute moment in time? That moment-by-moment redemption is within reach requiring each of us to recognize IT.

 

THE ROADS AHEAD…

The Roads Ahead…

Will I see what I write or write what I see?

Is it Road 52-C in rural Iowa, covered in rust-red powdery earth that billows from beneath the dented fenders on farmer Abel’s truck as he drives to his corn fields?

Or a paved snowbound road in Bismarck, North Dakota: closed! January had waited, impatiently, for the first Canadian cold front of the season to take shape. It blew hard southward; the land was satisfied.

The Yellow Brick Road in the Land of Oz was fraught with flying monkeys, the Horse of a Different Color, a Wizard, Scarecrow, Tin Man, and Dorothy’s ruby slippers. And, lest we forget: the good and wicked witches and the Munchkins. Dorothy’s toll road taught her it wasn’t her slippers that held the power of place. It was her intent to be there that led directly home.

The learning-a-lesson road can be immediate or painfully long, velvety smooth or jagged with peril.

Some roads wind soothingly, like the steady flowing motion of the Volga River where on-shore Russian hawkers, male, display their wares along a winding road. They sell with their eyes: gentle, pleading and threatening. You are pursued from one wooden stall to another, at least until you say no-het (net) enough times to get your message across.

Maybe there’s a favorite road you drive down: the first time by accident. The second time: intentional. Something draws you; even if you can’t identify it.

There was a narrow earthen road I parked alongside, so long ago. It was there that my English grandmother, dressed all in black, her starched white apron blowing in the wind waited.

In the end, there is one road we all wish we could forever find: that of our ancestry. A narrative, fashioned by those who came before, that imprinted our destiny.

I write, it appears, in order to see!