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NEVER UNDERESTIMATE THE POWER OF EXHAUSTION.

Rain on the window pane washing pain away.

Pains as from yesterday; yes I wash the pain away.

I’ves and Eve’s and long ago stand me now here today.

I’ves and Eve’s and long ago stand me now here today.

My beginner Garden this time last year!

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Extensions.

(A little poem comment I wrote for y’all antimaskers. )

The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom.
So the fear of the Lord isn’t an end in itself.
Is it fear to avoid hell which is worthy to fear and then say to the sick..go now physician and heal thyself?

Jesus said preach and heal is thy task. Where many words are -sin will not be lacking..so why oh erudite soul wont you please wear a mask?

If the Lord is to fear and the punishments of hell and to heal and to preach is thy mission pray tell..can you not also protect another’s mortal shell?

You know it is written as has been duly known by the beautiful Jewish messiah bethroned that what’s done to the least of these is done to His own.

Therefore if you quibble at a small ethical task …can your master charge you in the big if you can’t wear a mask?

Wear a mask ,wear a mask is all that they ask during pandemic plagues do the wise “cancel’ that?

Elephants work for peanuts and GOPple them fast..if it could save some one you know WHO’d appreciate that…

Most kindly then till the coast clears .. for the least of these “that” will you do them a favor.. wont you please wear a mask?!

This message is approved by James Dillon Broxson. Thank you Kay Ivey for extending the mask mandate and listening to our public health officials. It means the world to us that you are trying your best to put people before politics on this issue. A good and ethical bipartisan and science following move. Legacy comes from doing the right thing over merely following a brand. We appreciate it.

UPDATE { I SPOKE TO FAST… SHE CHANGED THE MASK ORDER TO A CHOICE THING. GOOD GRIEF!!!}

P.S. I’m glad she did the right thing for a while but I guess politicking is an endless pressure. “Shaking my head. “

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depression, mental health, love, kindness, golden rule, religion Poetry Politics, Philosophy, Learning and living. Uncategorized

When God Holds Your Hand Badly.

If 2020 (all flowery philosophical and faith based sentimentality put aside)..

was an easy year for you then you might be a masochist or if you were not at all stretched by this year you might just already be perfect.

This is not to say one is a masochist if one has legitimately experienced new life blessings this year (We received our first baby girl into the world this year).

It is also not to say that faith based sentimentality is not often anchored in solid reasoning beyond mere emotion and thus… ‘a wash’.

What it does boil down to is a confession that the ‘perfect man’ sleeps through the storm and the imperfect man cries out in terror “Lord, we perish!”

There is a type of restful contented waiting that weighs heavier than any storm. They say that the “little ones” have the kingdom of God and I believe I have proof. This year I got to witness that contentment and peace first hand or rather ‘hand in hand’.

I named my daughter Eliza to be a female version of Elijah the prophet.

Well in her first year of life not only has she gone through the Coronavirus Pandemic and global economic upheaval but as of recent time, here on the Alabama, Gulf Coast she has gone through hurricane Sally (The most contrivedly and ill undermeasured Cat3 I’ve ever been through in my opinion).

Interestingly enough my wife and mother in law who are both from Venezuela had never been through a hurricane so while we sheltered at my parents home I had plenty of snuggles with my wife that easily matched that of a couple watching a horror film. My wife was a little spooked by the whole ordeal obviously.

Now on the other hand our daughter Eliza was definitely a little preacher by her actions. She like Elijah lived through the whirlwind and like Jesus slept through the storm! Thats right she slept through ALL of the worst hours of the storm where all the damage happened!

I know this amazed my wife but it personally deeply inspired me. Our little prophet weathered and slept through the storm and all throughout this year has never ceased to be the little chonk of joy she was.

So for the title of this blog post I want to explain it a little more because it was another little precious way my daughter deeply inspired me just by being her and that was by one of my favorite little encounters with her.

In the age of smart phones alot of us become dummies from time to time. I think my baby intuitively knows this and she returns my wife and I back to the human. Yes sometimes in the hodrum of everyday life and exhaustion even we can veg out on our phone. My baby on the other hand as a fresh human straight out of the oven won’t have it! If we are on a phone in her presence she will protest..she will return us to the now. The most precious example of that is if I am feeding her with bottle and putting her to sleep. If I have a phone she will get frustrated.

Just like God my baby innocently and purely demands my total attention.

When I feed her it’s all or nothing. It’s daddy and daughter time. It’s ‘contigo’. But the funny thing is though she demands that I look right at her little face and just be present with her she also demands that she can play with my hand while I feed her. She wants to hold my hand but she doesn’t always do so with consistency.

Sometimes she has a death grip and other times I feel like a goldfish is slapping me! But I have learned a very deep 2020 lesson from this encounter of love and relationship with our precious daughter. In these moments of connection and relationship building I have learned something splendidly transcendant!

I have learned that sometimes we might be inclined to impugn guilt on God for seemingly sleeping through our often stormy lives. I have learned it is easy to be jealous of those for whom storms seem to not shake their easy restfulness of spirit but with a shift of perspective one can be inspired by it! I have learned that God demands our attention with crystaline and 2020 vision (hindsight is 2020 and all that..) and I have learned that it is the connection that matters the most and that it is better to hold God’s hand even if like a little child He ‘holds our hand badly.’

(James Dillon Broxson born and raised in Alabama likes dark bold letters because why not? But seriously they really are much better right?! James is a father of one beautiful baby girl named Eliza born in 2020 and married to an amazing lady from Venezuela named Carolina.)

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depression, mental health, love, kindness, golden rule, religion Politics, Philosophy, Learning and living.

“I Don’t Really Know What I’m Doing.”… AND SO CAN YOU!

So I think it is advantageous to start my relationship with you the reader to know.. my name.

My name is James Dillon Broxson and I’ve been told that was my signifier all my life.

For some reason I answer to it so I guess it has some sort of relevance to me.

Issues of politics seem to take up everyone’s general everyday discourse these days and I am often just as guilty but many are also guilty of doing nothing to better the situation. They are political in word but not in deed. It is important you know I don’t wish for people to be a-political. I just want them to be political in word and in deed.

From the day I was born I was a protest. I had sleep disorders that made me sleepy when everyone was waky and waky when everyone was sleepy. I wasn’t just beating to my own drum all “Dilly-Nilly” but rather it was foisted on me by that miracle called birth.

I understood things differently, I acted differently I believed differently. I was born my own political party.

I was like a missionary to all but all saw it their mission to be missionaries to me…

but alas I was hard hearted and couldn’t swallow the pill. Perhaps my natural immunities made medicine my mutinies!

It’s hard to swallow a pill when you are born with the natural tendency to believe you are a doctor.

It might take you years to hear the other and selective hearing doesn’t make that much better.

To be normal was oft an envy; though in these years, in my thirties, Iv’e began to ‘trust’ the directions my neuro-divergences often suggest as plans of action. To survive in this world whilst owning childlike naivety and awe is dangerous unless you learn to be strong ‘trusting your guns’.

I decided to start blogging again and this time to try to make a run of it as the beginnings of my online business, as a way for you the reader to follow the trains of thought I’m conducting and perhaps hop on and enjoy the ride and for me to etch out a living doing what I always wanted to do ..being a writer.

My mind is so full that it is exhausting at times but my hidden rigidities of thought are so all encompassing that good habits are hard to inculcate without a sense of deep meaning and ‘ritual’.

I have had a strange gift in my life of full dedication to very particular seemingly minuscule ‘things’ or some pet social goal to help better mankind. The particularity is important as the meaning is necessary and the ritual is soothing.

When Adam and Eve were put in the Garden of Eden the work of tending it was meant to be a pleasure and not a chore.

That is a good exemplification of how my mind works. I have very important work to do but it has to be that work ‘I am meant to do.’

In grade school my teachers would often say to my mother. “If Dillon likes something he will be better at it than anything else. If he doesn’t like it he is going to have many challenges.”

My life I have struggled with focus, with drive, with the exhaustion of years upon years of un-diagnosed sleep disorders as well as various maladies of mental and emotional exhaustion but still I remember being told I was brilliant by teachers in school, winning spelling bees, being very proficient in English and writing as well as regularly confusing adults by how astute, well read and eruditely questioning I was.

High functionality made my liabilities seem faked and that I was playing the victim even if that was furthest from the truth.

High abilities masked my high challenges.

The desire to emulate some of the giftings of the professionally extroverted of the world along with the love for performance, acting and creativity gave a certain degree of childlike normalcy to me whereby I could mask the challenges of me attempting to catch up with the supposed ‘dance of reality’ and the supposed ‘rules of engagement’.

I was an Android Phone in an Iphone world and I did not readily have the software to interpret ‘their’ programs.

A fish out of water.

A star without sky.

Man lone in the woods. That was this guy.

I won’t immediately tell you what this means to me or what I think it means but I will use it as an opportunity to encourage.

I still don’t really know what I am doing.

Even my faith doesn’t necessarily change that… and I think thats ok!

I still don’t really know what I’m doing… I’m learning everyday.

I still don’t really know what I’m trying to do… but I’m still trying to too!

I still don’t really know what I’m doing… and so can you!

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Justin Timberlake: Give my blogs back.

                         It takes an artist to mourn like an artist and blogging is no exception. When you work out so many emotions…however trivial some may be; it is a work of the soul. If I were to try and mention how many dreary nights in the Myspace generation that I typed out veritable frescoes of my angst to cyberspace I would fail to deliver it justice. Justin Timberlake, give me my Blogs back.