Join the Solution Revolution (Reprinted from SolutionRevolution.com)

Have you ever noticed that in an emergency situation--tornado aftermath, hurricanes, floods, etc.--people don't waste time complaining about the situation? They just get to work to make the situation better to the best of their present ability, and most people who get to work don't limit the help to themselves only. They get to work on behalf of their neighbors too generally, particularly those unable to do the work themselves. We know in these circumstances that complaining will never solve the problems. 

Why do we forget this when it comes to every day issues? Why don't we all try skipping the bitching for a change and go right to problem solving? Do what you can every day to make the world a better place right where you stand. If each of us did that, no matter our abilities or disabilities, the world would be a better place. Let's start today. Find something in your immediate world/environment and make it better. No complaints. No blame. Simply take some kind of action to improve the situation given your present abilities. 

I'd like to see this become a way of life for most of us. Are you up for the challenge? Even if all you do differently is make a point of disposing properly of a piece of litter every day, there would be 365 fewer pieces of litter on this planet every year. If 100 of us did this every day...36,500 few pieces of litter per year. Don't stop there. Get creative about finding ways to leave your world a better place daily. 

I've lived through hurricanes and windstorms of all kinds, and I can tell you that the devastation afterwards is overwhelming to behold. The mess from these storms and any natural disasters don't get cleaned up quickly. It can take months and sometime years of daily effort to make things right again, but over time, the mess is cleaned up and the damage that can be repaired is finally repaired.

There are a lot of problems facing us in this world--pollution, hunger, war, unemployment, homelessness, etc. Looking at the problems can feel overwhelming. No one is asking you to solve all the world's problems. But I am challenging you today to join me in taking the pledge to make at least one positive change a day to help make the world a better place. Start where you are and do the first thing you see that you can conceivably do in the space of a few minutes. Pick up a piece of litter. Plant a tree. Write a letter of support to your senator or protest to the president of a company that makes products that pollute the environment. Get involved. Complaining isn't the solution. Actions are the solution. Start small and right where you're standing today.

Join the Solution Revolution today and make a positive difference every day. 

Beth Mitchum is the author of seven novels, two collections of poetry, one collection of biographical essays, one collection of spiritual essays, and one music CD. She is also the editor and contributing poet in the Sappho's Corner Poetry Series, which now includes: Tulips Touching, Wet Violets, and Roses Read. All of her works are available at Amazon.com, BarnesandNoble.com, BethMitchum.com, BookshopWithoutBorders.com, and numerous other online bookstores. They are also available by special order through nearly any independent book store. Go to http://bethmitchum.com for more information or to her author page at Amazon.com. First chapters of her novels and memoirs are available at bethmitchum.com. Beth is also the founder and senior editor for UltraVioletLove Publishing and the many websites run by this entity.

Thunderstorms and Other Scary Cat Scenarios

I was up until the middle of the night last night listening to thunderstorms that kept rolling over us, one after the other. Every time I started to drift off to sleep, thunder would rumble loudly overhead, jerking me awake again. It wasn't right on top of us, but much of the time it was very close and therefore very loud. The storms must have been coming in steady bands because the storm would be loud and then would recede only to get strong again. Thunder kept booming and lightning kept flashing on and off for more than an hour. It was really quite an awesome display in the night. It was hard to count the seconds between the lightning and thunder though because the flashes of lightning and claps of thunder were so close together that they were nearly continuous at times. I did ascertain that it was a mile or less away for a number of minutes and 3-5 miles away for a solid half hour. In other words, it was too close for an uninterrupted night of sleep while it was around, but the rain that accompanied it was helpful in offsetting the drought conditions that have existed in Florida in recent years, during the time I was living in Seattle. 

Unaccustomed as they are to such weather, I will say that my cats were mostly okay with it, although my oldest female definitely didn't like the thunder. I was a little surprised that my boys, who seemed calm enough, were actually okay only as long as they were in the same room as me. They all ended up in the rooms where either I or my housemate were trying to sleep. I guess they were taking their cues from us as to whether this weather was a scary event or not. My housemate's cats are used to it because they've lived here all their lives, but not my four. My youngest little girl was totally unfazed by it, but that is pretty much her natural state. She stays cool as a cucumber no matter what. She's a new soul to be sure, and approaches the world with wide-eyed wonder. She was the one who was most relaxed and totally fine with all the driving back and forth across the USA last year. 

From mid-April to mid-October, the five of us logged about 13,000 miles in the cab of a Dodge Ram 1500, in a regular size cab. My youngest boy is next in the coolness level, but my older cats, the "twins" are not even a little bit brave. My eldest boy had been named "Pollo," when he was a kitten. While he was aptly named, I wasn't about to have call him Chicken in any language, so I changed his name when I adopted him from the rescue center. My oldest girl was pretty darn spunky when she was a kitten, but not so much any more. I have to wonder if the first trip from Seattle to Orlando in 2010 is what shifted her energy from a spunky princess type to a somewhat skittish kitty. The third night on that road trip was awful for them. I had to leave the twins and their older sibling, Dustin, in the car for the night because the hotel did not accept pets.  I hated the thought of having to do this, but it was late and I had limited hotel choices where I had exited the highway. The temperature was okay though so I relented in order to get some much needed sleep. 

I had a luxurious shower and slept soundly in the comfy bed, but the next morning I came out to the moving truck to find the cab completely trashed and smelling of urine, as though someone (I found out later who) had wet themselves instead of using the litter box. Cat kibbles were everywhere, stuff was upended, and animal paw prints on the door and roof of the cab spoke of a terrifying encounter in the night. The prints on the top of the cab of the moving truck were from a raccoon. The ones on the passenger door were from a large canine. Given the proximity to the woods and mountains, it's anyone's guess as to whether the beast that had been after the raccoon was just someone's dog running around in the parking lot or something wild from the woods. As far as my cats were concerned, however, whatever was out there was excited and wanted the raccoon that was on the roof above their heads. I hadn't been able to park the moving truck close enough to the hotel to hear what went on in the night, so I have no idea what happened, when it happened, or how long it went on. All I could determine was that my cats had been terrified. I didn't need to be psychic to figure out that they'd had a very bad night. The terror was in their eyes, as well as more than a hint of accusation. They were exhausted, upset, and disillusioned that their mother would allow them to suffer such an ordeal all alone. That morning while I fed them breakfast in the truck, cleaning up as best as I could and spraying some aromatherapy scent so we could all breathe a little better in there, I apologized whole-heartedly to my feline children and vowed to stay in the vehicle with them if I ever had to make them stay in a vehicle overnight again. I kept my promise to them, not only for the rest of that trip, but also for the 13,000 miles we traveled together last summer. 

It didn't matter that they had been perfectly safe inside the big truck away from the wildlife encounter that was raging just outside the safety of their sleeping space, the fear was the same for them. They had no assurance that  the dog, wolf, coyote, or whatever couldn't get into the truck, while it was barking, baring its teeth, growling, and pawing ferociously at the door of their living space. The energy in the cab that morning was one that reeked of fear. I vowed that day never to leave them in the truck overnight alone again, no matter how safe I knew them to be. The fact that they didn't know that they were safe was all that mattered. They know they are safe as long as I am present. That's why I took them with me last year to the GCLS conference in Minneapolis rather than leaving them in the camper with someone just checking on them periodically throughout the days I'd be gone. I just couldn't do that to them. To begin with, we had just moved into the camper a few days earlier. The fact that it was another new place, and situated in the midst of wooded acreage, in no way insured that there wouldn't be a repeat of the night in a hotel parking lot in Utah, when a canine of some sort had "treed" a raccoon on top of the roof of the vehicle where my cats were awaiting the return of their mother. I just couldn't do it for their sake or my peace of mind. We were better off together, even if it meant taking them on the road again after less than a six-week respite from the 4000-mile trip that had brought us to Washington from Florida with a few significant stops along the way.

On that trip to Minneapolis, I did end up having to sleep in a campground one night in the cab with them in order to keep my promise to them. It was a fitful night and cold this time. We didn't manage to make it more than 4 or 5 hours in there together. They were cold and restless, and I was cold and ready to be anywhere other than trying to sleep in the front of a pickup truck with four restless felines that had been stuck in the cab of a truck all day. As difficult as the night was, and as little sleep as I got, it was still far better than leaving them some place where I wasn't certain that they would be free from wildlife terrors in the night. After a few hours of fitful sleep, I pulled back out onto the road and drove for several hours until the sun rose and turned the earth's thermostat up several degrees. I pulled off the road at a rest stop and slept a couple hours more, this time in the warmth of the morning sun. The cats ate breakfast at the rest stop and settled in for their usual after-breakfast nap too. All was well, and again, much better than allowing my cats to endure any more terrifying wildlife moments in the night. 

This year, fortunately, as I plan to fly out to Dallas to the GCLS conference, the cats are all safely settled in a familiar house, and they all love and trust their "auntie." We will miss each other during these four days while I'm away, but we will live through it and be no worse for it upon my return. They'll be safe while I'm gone and since they trust my housemate implicitly, they'll know that they are safe. Knowing that will make me feel so much better about leaving them. Now that we've lived through a night of rough weather together recently, I know that they'll have last night to remember should it get stormy during the few days I'll be absent from them. The storm was noisy and more than a little unsettling to them, but they witnessed their mother and their auntie taking it in stride. So while my housemate might end up with all eight cats sleeping as close to her as they possibly can, everyone should feel safe at least. 

Even if I can't go back in time and change what happened in my kitties' psyches during the ordeal of the raccoon and the canine in the night, I can at least try to make sure that it is the last time in their lives something that scary happens to them. I'd like to see more of the kittenhood spunkiness I saw in my oldest little girl during the early years of her life. I suspect that she retained too much of the fear of the night when she and her siblings felt very much like prey instead of the natural predators they are. I'd like to see her bounce back from that completely, and I'd like to ensure that the rest of their lives are calm and quiet and peaceful, but I can't really guarantee that since we're likely to have a few more adventures before our lives together are over. I will say that all the adventures I've lived through with my furry children have created an even stronger bond amongst the five of us. We might be a funny little family, but we are definitely a family, and I wouldn't have it any other way. 

Beth Mitchum is the author of seven novels, two collections of poetry, one collection of biographical essays, one collection of spiritual essays, and one music CD. She is also the editor and contributing poet in the Sappho's Corner Poetry Series. All of her works are available at Amazon.com, BarnesandNoble.com, BethMitchum.com, BookshopWithoutBorders.com, and numerous other online bookstores. They are also available by special order through nearly any independent book store. Go to http://bethmitchum.com for more information or to her author page at Amazon.com. First chapters of her novels and memoirs are available at bethmitchum.com. Beth is also the founder and senior editor for UltraVioletLove Publishing and the many websites run by this entity.

Typographically Yours

Thank goodness for the news. I feel so much better about my typos after watching this morning's news telecast. Apparently I'm not the only one who needs their tea before they start typing stuff meant for public consumption. I just learned that a man was killed today in Florida in a US 19 rash. All I can say is: Wow! That must be one serious rash if it killed a man! What kind of rash was it anyway? Road rash? Now I know what they meant to say, and it's truly tragic, but I'm an editor after all. You can't slip that kind of stuff by me, unless, of course, you're me and I'm the one typing it before my morning chai has been imbibed. I can type all kinds of nonsense and not notice it until enough time passes for several people on Facebook, Twitter, and Google + to have read it as is. Now I realize that on days when I've typed before tea that I've caused readers, on numerous occasions, to spew their lattes all over their computer screens, and as soon as I stop giggling, I'll apologize.

Of course these days, I'm causing people to spew it on themselves, since more and more people are reading their email and social networking messages on their cell phones. Let me warn you that these reading devices offer little or no protection from such oral eruptions. I don't really understand this usage of a cell phone. My Kindle Fire is about as small a screen as I care to use for reading email and news and that is possible only because I can blow it up. The text, that is, not my Kindle. Blowing up a Fire seems not only a bit redundant, but also ridiculously unnecessary.  And truly, if I wanted to read small print, I'd just grab a bottle of over-the-counter medication and try to decipher the size 1.5 font before I suffered a collapse from trying to read the instructions to the magic antidote to whatever has overcome me in the moment. Fortunately it's never anything more serious than a homeopathic remedy for eyestrain from reading tiny print. 

I have to admit though that I cannot blame tiny print for my typos. Most of the time anyway. Sometimes I make the mistake of posting on Facebook from my Kindle, which generally results in autocorrect-level typos, which are more like practical jokes than merely amusing mistakes. If you don't believe me, you have only refer to the website: http://www.damnyouautocorrect.com/.  But I digress. I'll be the first to admit that even the smallest typo, such as the one on this morning's news, can completely change the complexion of what the writer meant to say. With the speed of news releases these days (and an appalling lack of proofreaders), there are terabytes of funny moments in the news, even when humor is not the purpose of that particular tidbit. I'm certain, for instance, that tears from an outburst of laughter was not the expected response to the notice about the traffic fatality on US 19, but sometimes laughter is unstoppable, and that's how it should be. Laughing is a good and healthy response to the unexpected, as long as the unexpected is not disproportionately overwhelming in a tragic way.

Laughter has been touted as the best medicine for millennia. As a wise man once said, "A merry heart worketh good, like a medicine: but a broken spirit drieth the bones." (Proverbs 17:22) Now I'm not positive, but I suspect that dry bones would translate as osteoporosis in today's medical lingo. I'd much rather have a merry heart than dry bones any day. So I embrace my writing, typos and all. Sometimes the typos turn out to be funnier or more poetic than what I meant to write anyway. As Friedrich Nietzsche said, "Be careful, lest in casting out your demon you exorcise the best thing in you.” So I will embrace the typos with a chuckle, and the occasional blush, because they may turn out to be the very thing that makes readers laugh and keeps them coming back for more. I'll try my best to refrain from typing before tea, but if I mistype anyway, feel free to chuckle at my misprints. Trust me when I say that I'll be chuckling too as I correct them. I've never been above laughing at my own mistakes. As my favorite nom de plume says: "If you're not laughing at yourself, then you're just not paying attention." --Bryh Syn 

Beth Mitchum is the author of seven novels, two collections of poetry, one collection of biographical essays, one collection of spiritual essays, and one CD. She is also the editor and contributing poet in the Sappho's Corner Poetry Series, which now includes: Tulips Touching, Wet Violets, and Roses Read. All of her works are available at Amazon.com, BarnesandNoble.com, BethMitchum.com, BookshopWithoutBorders.com, and numerous other online bookstores. They are also available by special order through nearly any independent book store. Go to http://bethmitchum.com for more information or to her author page at Amazon.com. First chapters of her novels and memoirs are available at bethmitchum.com. Beth is also the founder and senior editor for UltraVioletLove Publishing and the many websites run by this entity.

Somebody Get the English-Speaking World a Freaking Thesaurus!

Has anyone noticed that everything this year is being touted as "epic?" Probably the most unfortunate use of it was the sportscaster who referred to some athlete as having "epic humility." Epic humility? Really? That's more of an oxymoron that an apt description. In 2011, everything was iconic and now everything is epic. I fully blame the internet for this. How else do you explain such a rapid dissemination of a word into daily usage? Well, except maybe for the 100th monkey theory of species knowledge. I'm not sure I even want to go there. But it seems to me either one or the other is true, unless someone can show me who is sending out mass emails every couple of years, informing people what the English word of the year is going to be. Actually iconic rolled over a bit into 2012 in the US and was shared with Great Britain as the most overused word in the English language, until epic took its place. As I mentioned in my blog, "An Iconic Year for the Pusillanimous Logophile," there really are a lot of words left in the dictionary to use. Lots of words. I'm not kidding. You can look for yourself. Flip open your OED or your Websters. There they are on every page, just hanging around on the corners in danger of being arrested by the dictionary police for loitering. Let's put these words to work for goodness' sake before it's too late, and they have to wonder about the streets begging for dots to feed their i's and dashes to cross their t's. 

I mean, seriously, everything in the world cannot be epic. Otherwise the word loses its status as being, well, an epic word. Putting aside the use of epic that is connected to poetry, the word is one of those hyperbolic descriptions that simply can't be applied to every situation. Everything in the world can't be "heroic, majestic, and impressively great."  That is the definition of the word epic, after all. Words operate in relation to one another. One thing can't be great unless other things are not so great. This can't exist in a world where everything is epic. It's the yin and yang of things. As it says in the Tao Te Ching, "When people see some things as beautiful, other things become ugly. When people see some things as good, other things become bad." (Tao Te Ching, Chapter 2) Now I'm not saying that it wouldn't be great to live in an epic kind of world, but could we at least come up with some different words to express all these epic moments, people, and things? There is even a free online thesaurus, so really there's no excuse for the lack of synonyms in the advertising and television announcing world. That's the great thing about a thesaurus, if no alternate words come to mind, you can at least borrow some. Consider the lowly thesaurus as a library for words. You don't have to create alternate words in order to benefit from them. How about heroic, massive, colossal deeds, films, books, and cars? Well, maybe not cars. The last thing we need are massive and colossal cars to hit the sales floor now that a tank of gasoline is the same price as a surgical procedure, but you get my drift. 

What comes after iconic and epic? Perhaps we could have a website where we all vote on the Word of the Year. Or Time magazine could choose one. Come to think of it, since I don't read that magazine and no longer have weekly exposure to it from working in a book store that sells it, perhaps Time is choosing our word of the year, much like they've chosen our person of the year for so long. I'll have to check into that. Whatever the case, I may start choosing my own Word of the Year. Maybe I can add a little friendly competition to the words that are being drug, kicking and screaming, out of the pages of the comic book world, and splashed about for a year like cheap cologne. I suspect that Batman and Superman wouldn't mind if we added a few other hyperbolic words. Hell, come to think of it, what's wrong with hyperbolic? Oh yeah, a lot of people wouldn't know what it means, much less how to text it. Epic is a perfect word, by the way (a.k.a., btw) for the texting world. For any word to catch on these days, it will either have to be fairly short or it has to abbreviate really well. But don't get me started on Textlish, which is of course English as spelled by texters. You realize, don't you, that texting represents the next step in the evolution (or devolution) of the English language? Eventually we'll all have to be able to read minds so we'll know what someone means when they try to tell you where they're located if they are somewhere other than a numbered street or one with a very short name, like Oak or Pine. But I digress onto a subject that is begging for a blog of its own. In the meantime, while most of us in the English-speaking world still count English as their first language, even if Textlish is running a close second, let's all go dust off our thesauruses and load our word guns with words like hyperbole and exaggeration, so we'll at least know when they're being used to describe absolutely everything from sports figures to mouthwash and soft drinks as epic or iconic. I'll even throw in the internet link for an online thesaurus for the Googlephobic: http://thesaurus.com/. Now let's go paint the world with colorful word images and leave epic and iconic to the comic books, along with kapow and kaboom! 

Beth Mitchum is the author of seven novels, two collections of poetry, one collection of biographical essays, one collection of spiritual essays, and one music CD. She is also the editor and contributing poet in the Sappho's Corner Poetry Series, which now includes: Tulips Touching, Wet Violets, and Roses Read. All of her works are available at Amazon.com, BarnesandNoble.com, BethMitchum.com, BookshopWithoutBorders.com, and numerous other online bookstores. They are also available by special order through nearly any independent book store. Go to http://bethmitchum.com for more information or to her author page at Amazon.com. First chapters of her novels and memoirs are available at bethmitchum.com. Beth is also the founder and senior editor for UltraVioletLove Publishing and the many websites run by this entity.