Sunday, January 19, 2020

Upcoming Sessions + Free Book

Healing and rejuvenation may begin with an appropriate examination. Heart mind self query is more about the doing than the happy. If New Years Resolutions have not gone as expected... Join me for workshops on How to Do Happy Better Writing. Reflecting. Perspective. Come out for the workshop. Explore your self. Hamilton High School for three Tuesdays February 4, 11th, and 18th, 2020. 6 PM to 8 PM. PLUS !!! Get a free copy of my brand new book just for showing up.
https://www.amazon.com/dp/1671233018

Page 61 in the adult enrichment professional section in the catalog PDF.

 Activity Code 3RAE5442 
https://milwaukeerecreation.net/ 

https://web2.vermontsystems.com/wbwsc/wimilwaukeewt.wsc/search.html

 David L White
DoHappyBetter@gmail.com
www.davidlwhite.org

Sunday, December 15, 2019

Details: Free copy

I'm giving a free, signed copy of Postcards from the Beautiful Route to everyone that signs up for the upcoming class.

https://www.davidlwhite.org/2019/12/happy-workshop.html


Thursday, December 12, 2019

Happy Workshop



Join me for workshops on 

How to Do Happy Better 

Activity Code 3RAE5442

at Hamilton High School 
for three Tuesdays in 
February 2020. 

February 4, 11th, and 18th, 
6 PM to 8 PM.


Milwaukee Recreation Dept.

https://milwaukeerecreation.net/

Page 61 in the adult enrichment professional section the catalog PDF.





Sunday, December 1, 2019

Papillion




Papillion 

I was waiting for them at the service advisor desk as they finished up their work order.
She was traveling with a background man. He did a good job staying there.
I was pleased to take in her mannerisms while we waited..

She: young, tall, thin, modelesque, a model indeed, sporting a big Afro and an even larger smile. And her eyes.

They rode in the back together. She sat easily in my rearview mirror.

"I imagine that people like to introduce themselves to you by talking about some physical feature of yours.” I said.

“Yes, of course, the hair.”

“Yes, of course, the hair, but the smile and the eyes. But especially…"

What?"

“Your eyes.”

"What about my eyes?"

"When you look at me, you're actually looking at me.”

“Of course.”

"Not everyone can do that.” I said.

She smiled. She knows.

End of story.

Monday, November 18, 2019

Christian Men's Monday




Christian Men's Monday

I had four guys out on my first run. We dropped one close by. Number two wasn’t too far from the first. And that leaves us with the last two a little bit east and quite a bit south and west.

The number three guy is a fairly tall and bald fella from Tennessee. I said you’re not from around here are you?

Nope. Tennessee. He’s a private jet pilot and mechanic. I suppose. Seems unusual. Big bold voice.

And, as a matter of introduction, he jumped right in with how disgusting the televised impeachment hearings are. The impeachment circus. Give it a rest already.

After just a couple moments while that settled, and out of the clear blue, he dragged in Hillary. Something something Hillary.

And then he announced the reason for the introduction.

"As you can tell, you all got a guy with a pretty, southern, Republican, patriot, attitude. And Christian too. He announced. In case we could not tell.

And then, just for fun he threw in abortion. What the hell happened to the 'impeachment circus'?

Well, that abortion talk kind of popped the other fella in the backseat and he jumped in on it, too.

I don’t know where any of this was going at all. I'm just trying to drive the van. I sure don't need a bunch of self-righteous buglers blowing they horns.

Tennessee still wanted to rant about the impeachment hearings. He was just disgusted: "what a waste of time" and "what a circus."

So I said ...

"You’ll notice we don’t have the impeachment hearings on in here. That's for a reason. And before we got in the van they were not on in here either. So we don’t have to turn the circus on now."

I didn’t want to beat him. I didn’t want to tell him to shut up. But…

During the pause after my statement, the little older guy kind of cracked up and went back to abortion and killing God's babies. And I thought, 'Oh my dear God have we got a long ride now.'

I do not remember where in Tennessee's announcement he stuck it but there were guns. Something to the effect that "if you don't like guns, you don't have to buy any."

We let Tennessee out at the private airport north-end area and me and #4 headed down towards Raymond in the Southwest.

Turns out the last guy there, #4, was a young-earth, anti-evolution fellow. Only 6000 years old.  A fundamental biblical literalist. With lots of science to prove it all. Any mutations towards evolution are actually fractions and fragments and everything is not better. Mutations are not better. They’re either worse or they’re neutral. Everything is degrading; getting worse.

And something about genetic entropy. And DNA. And magnetic resonance and The Magnetic Fields around the earth and so on.

Apparently he talks to people, in groups, about these things, possibly with a microphone. I wanted to go in the direction of presentations in general regardless of the subject matter. But he stayed right on the the science of young universe. Anything that’s 14 billion years old, well ... he wasn’t going to be listening to any of that.

He did almost apologize for getting rolled into that abortion thing. It caught him off guard and he just shot from the hip.

I did tell him I was writing a book titled the Beautiful Route. I’ve noticed that it matters when I choose what it is I’m going to see. When I choose what it is I’m going to put in my mind. What I choose and what I’m going to consume. And I would rather consume love and joy and gratitude and forgiveness.

I think he’s a pretty dog-eared, Old Testament fellow. I don’t get the sense that grace has gotten through to him yet. I don’t know. We didn’t go there directly. I’m assuming quite a bit. But for all the foam around his mouth it certainly smells more like beer than root beer.

When I returned to base there was a single rider going east into Oak Creek. He’s Korean. He’s a pastor of a nondenominational church. And for a guy in the communication business it seems like his English could use a little work. I'm very good at understanding lots of dialects in Foreign English. After a little while listening you kind of get the get the hang of it. I had to work to understand this preacher.

He had a church for a little while in Chicago after he graduated from seminary. His church has two distinct populations. Korean, of course, and what he called an English-speaking population. I never did ask him how long he’s been in the United States.

His contract also has him doing youth ministry. Teenagers. It’s a challenge.

He is graceful and careful with his language and his estimation of who is who. And he’s much more inclusive regarding other peoples ideas and religions. He’s more of a New Testament fellow indeed.

Finally today, near the end of my shift, I come back into the building and both the Korean and the scientist require a pick up. There’s only time for me to get one of them. They are in opposite directions. And ... guess where I went.

________________________

“The greatest discovery of my generation is that human beings can alter their lives by altering their attitudes of mind." - William James





Art ist


Sally, on Art and me

In addition to others facets, including healer, Sally the psychic, also saw me as an artist. She was right. I am. Artist.  Incomparable. And that is exactly the only way to have it.

Although I had never really considered it earlier, the artist part is simple enough. I took a bunch of coupons to Michael’s. I bought paper when it was two for one. I bought markers. I bought watercolor pencils, I bought tubes, and hard pans. And honestly it took a couple of years for me to unwrap any of it and push the color around. Oh my goodness … papers. Oh my goodness … synthetic brushes or natural? Oh my goodness … cheap supplies. Oh my goodness ... the good stuff. And even better than everything ... less judgment.

That is how I started. It’s a hobby. No judgment. No stylistic constraints. I’m not trying to be anybody. I’m not smart enough to be able to compare myself to an artist or a genre or a timeframe. Frankly I don’t care. Caring about the definition gets in the way of painting.

If I chose to believe a couple of others, I might think I should make a bunch of paintings and put them in my car and go to venues and sell. Sell. Sell. Sell. What happened to the painting; the art of it?

The only way I was able to start was to suspend judgement as best as possible. It is a think I do for me. It feels good. A couple people think I might have an eye. That’s even better.


Healing? 
Play !!!

Sally, the psychic



Sally, the psychic. Eighty-seven going on seventy. You should’ve seen her skin. Wrinkle free. Radiant. And her eyes? Soft electric blue.

I met her on the morning ride home. I saw her again on the return trip. It was just the two of us both times and not one time since.

Retired now, she had been an office admin for a couple Jungian analysts for nearly several decades. She was also a long-time yoga teacher at the YWCA in Hales Corners. The Y closed and sat empty for a number of years. When her husband died he was laid out for the visitation in the very room she taught yoga. And, she’s an artist. 

She did not introduce herself as a psychic. She simply read me. She told me who I am; who I think I am. And for the most part it was quite right. There were very few of her words I had to toss out as - not true. She told me I was a mystic, poet, cook, musician … and she added that I was an artist. Okay. And a healer. What?



Healer? I’ve been mistaken for a teacher, professor, pastor or scientist or a psychologist. No joke. I’ve had the nickname of Doc bestowed by no fewer than a half a dozen persons who I am quite sure have never met each other … ever. More about Doctor Dave elsewhere.

In the years surrounding my chance meeting with Sally I spent hours, a few minutes at a time, with a co-worker who was sharing snippets of stories of lifelong abuses. She was candid and elusive. I thought she was signaling for help. I was mistaken. When, after years of reading, I discovered there might be a reason she was not leaving her situation, I was able finally to let it go. My growth played a wonderful hand.

On the return trip to the dealer with Sally I spoke a bit about this co-worker. I showed her a picture. Her immediate reading was that she projected a black aura. Well wow.

Oddly, also perfectly, and in those days, I also met a woman in the shuttle, a creative writing teacher from Milwaukee Public Schools system who is also a Reiki master teacher. In mid-July of 2015, I took Reiki Level 1 and Level 2 with Rhiana @ www.bereiki.com

Healing? What does that mean? Healing whom? Healing of what? 
Is all healing physical? Emotional? Psychological?

I’d begun to see that most therapy modalities are not enough. A mix might be appropriate. 

In the fall of 2019, after I had graduated myself from the self-styled healing study, I met Randy the Renaissance chiropractor. He reminded me that the root word for doctor is teacher.

I am not done with healing. I now have a better idea about who is who here.