Who Are We Really?

 

 

 Look closely, "The words of the prophets are written in the Subway walls."

--Simon and Garfunkle

Who Are We Really?

We are little spark plugs, but maybe not running at full capacity.

And an egomaniac who lives in the White House is running amok on my computer. Now he is threatening to take away elections. What? What? What? What? What?!

I was on my way here to talk about a movie when I ran into that.

It’s hard to have fun anymore.

But look-it here, we have some clever people in our country.

 

The movie? 

Oh yeah. My first though was to skip it. I was prepared not to like it. A review said that, while they found the acting excellent, they didn’t like the movie. And notice that the first Wicked movie received 10 Academy Award nominations, while WICKED for good received none.

YET THAT MOVIE WAS SPOT ON.

It so accurately depicted our present state, you would think it was written for us specifically, yet it was published in 1995. I can’t believe it.  

The two principal players, Cynthia Erivo (the witch) and Aviana Grande (Glinda), were superb, and the casting of Jeff Goldblum was genius. His performance was genius. That speech seemed written for Goldblum—and for now.

No more, go see it.

 

  

“We must be willing, individually and as a nation, to accept whatever sacrifices may be required of us. A people that values its privileges above its principles soon loses both.”

--Dwight D. Eisenhower

This is what perseverance and dedication looks like:

 

 

 

The Heart Knows

 

Spiritual Warriors

Last night I went to bed with joy swelling in my heart. For I had watched the awakening of America, and I felt proud once again to be an American.

I understand how we have felt beaten down. Once I saw a movie where, in a Nazi concentration camp, a man was stripped naked, tied to a post as tribal hunters would bring home a fresh kill, sprayed with water, and allowed to freeze to death.

The inmates were forced to watch.

I was screaming inside, " Rush him, you are more than him, rush the man with the hose, the man with the gun. He will only shoot one or two of you before the rest overpowers him.

But who wants to be the first?

You need a unified group behind you. Otherwise, you are just another dead idealist.

We value our lives and want to live. And if the one inmate had spoken, had suggested the overrun, he would have been a goner, and the others would be back in fear and captivity.

We needed a small group of warriors to silently walk for peace. To stir our hearts to health and hope once again.

 

 

And the I.C.E  killings lit the spark that exists in the hearts of many of us, that we aren’t going to take it anymore.

 

https://www.instagram.com/reel/DUMXkqbjYyv/

And this is only a part of the people. They are taking to the streets in LA, San Diego, Boston, all over. We are watching history—we are always making history, but this is unprecedented. I began copying photos to save for posterity and to share. (It’s all over Instagram—for that’s where people are photographing and posting, and where you see kind hearts all over the place. People have lined up for 7 miles to praise the Monks on their 2,300-mile hike for peace. But if you aren’t watching Instagram, you can miss it.

This morning, my surging heart dropped a notch when I turned on my computer and saw nothing about the marches, the assemblages of people all over America who say, “We aren’t going to take it anymore.” I did see that a judge issued a ruling on I.C.E.’s presence in Minnesota.

 

“U.S. District Judge Katherine Menendez denied a request from Minnesota officials for a temporary restraining order, despite acknowledging what she described as “profound and even heart breaking” consequences for communities in the state.”

She said “those are not the only harms to be considered,” however.

“The Eighth Circuit has recently reiterated that entry or injunction barring the federal government from enforcing federal law imposes significant harm on the government,” the judge wrote.”

 “Significant harm on the government?!!! Brother! Hey, did you notice, I.C.E. is killing people, and the government is blaming the victims? And the President will not intervene in a Democratic jurisdiction unless they say, "Please." Silly me, I thought we were a two party system.

 

There is a sign over the door at the Cardo Rehab Gym at the River Bend Hospital in Springfield, Oregon that reads:

“The heart can do anything.”

 

P.S. I have opened a New Newsletter, and for the past four days have posted small comments. I would love it if you would join me. 

click on the image

 

 

This is what commitment looks like: 

 

Life is What Happens While You Are Making Other Plans

The week has been filled with other events besides my writing. Thanks for hanging in there with me until I get back on track.

Today is Tuesday—yes, I know, I’m blogging late, but I had things in mind to write, just not time to tell them.

I wanted to talk about the takeaways I got from this past week.

Number One, The Buddhist’s Peace Walk:

 

 

 

I’m so impressed with the monks who make no political statements, no religious judgements, just walk to awaken Peace. And many people are responding. It is a great attention getter and people need a leader, so they rally. And so am I, for they have touched my heart.

They made me rethink the search for happiness everyone talks about. “Search for Peace.” That sounds more doable. We can’t be happy all the time, but we could be peaceful in our bodies, in thought and deed, and let happiness come as a surprise, a gift, a blessing.

The monks just walk, and Aloka, the Peace Dog, trots along, although now he is in recovery from surgery, and I’m glad they are taking good care of him.

And their walk added perspective to the hours I needed for a Continuing Education Real Estate Course I didn’t want to take.

Thirty hours were easy compared to walking 2,300 miles in 120 days.

Takeaway from my Course:

“Let’s sell the Tiny House on April 11, 2026 ,” I tell my daughter, “in honor of the Fair Housing Act of April 11, 1968.

That act was a Humongous TURNING POINT for the country and for human rights.

In 1968, President Lyndon B. Johnson pushed through the Fair Housing Act. This was when riots were happening, and America was in the midst of unrest. President Johnson called Congress and said, “Pass that Bill!”

The bill, which had been debated to the nth degree with strong opposition, passed the following day.

Now, no person can be denied the purchase of a house based on color, race, Natural Origin, familial rights (children), disabilities, or sex. Elder rights came next. And the Disability and sex (it didn’t make sex illegal, it allowed a single woman to buy a house) came a couple of years later.

Here’s our Tiny House on day one:

 

 Today, the Tiny House is not complete, but it is close.

Daughter Dear has no time to complete it, although it was dear to her heart when she began renovating it, and she’s good at bashing out walls, tiling, and adding exquisite features.

A buyer with a few hours could complete it.

She worked her fingers to the bone, and we found that a small house needs the same as a big house, just everything scrunched into a small space. The plumbing is in, the electricity was professionally installed, it’s piped for water, has a wall heater, kitchen cabinets, and an under-the-counter refrigerator. No countertop. We have the sink and bamboo flooring that need completion. DD tiled a complete wall in the kitchen and a complete bathroom with a tiled shower large enough for two people, or maybe a Great Dane dog.

The wall between the bathroom and the “living room,” which will be a bedroom at night, is still studs only. A mirrored wall there would give the illusion of a larger space, if an owner could stand to look at themselves that much.

Well, this sounds like a sales pitch. I wanted you to know what we are dealing with. And that my Real Estate course made me want to honor the FHA.

Three: Surprise,

The course mentioned the vagus nerve, and that it takes up more space in our bodies than our skin. It is there to connect to the amygdala of the brain, the seat of our feelings of unease and for telegraphing danger. It has kept us alive for millennia, though not in a fail-safe way, for we have developed so much logic that we talk ourselves out of intuitive feelings, sometimes saying it is only our imagination.

Real Estate Agents go into dangerous places sometimes, empty houses, warehouses, lofts, at night sometimes. The idea is to be focused and aware.

I was struck this week by a lecture on the Native Nations of  North America—how long they have been here, and that they had some of the same social issues we have—like fighting each other, and territorial disputes.

Sometimes you know something, but then later you really get it. That was the way I was with society and culture. I wondered how people like Socrates, Plato, Aristotle, Leonardo da Vinci, and Jesus could be so wise in times of barbarism.

Like, suddenly brilliance pops up.

It’s that we have cultures within our society. We have skin heads, KKK members living alongside Priests and Saints, and monks who do not proselytize, yet get verbally attacked for not being Christian. We have Southern, Northern, Midwest, Rural, and Urban inhabitants.

We have people who want to bomb entire areas back to the Stone Age, while others say, “Don’t do it.” “Your decision effects the rest of us.”

See how anger gets attention, and a soft voice hardly raises an eyebrow? Yet silence--it seems that the monks are on to something, walk, meditate, be in relaxed focus, make a statement, push yourself for a cause. 

We have progressive personalities and Conservative personalities of varying degrees, some are genetically predetermined, some are taught.

And then we try to have a Democracy where the majority rules.

It’s tricky.

 

 

Here is the Tiny House now, we had it pushed in under a high overhead to keep it out of the weather, and to allow DD easy access to materials in the garage a few feet away. The trouble is, our wonderful creative House mover, moved himself to Eastern Oregon, and now we must find a way to get the house back out. 

.

• "Life is pretty simple:
  You do some stuff. Most fails. Some works.
  You do more of what works."

  --Leonardo da Vinci

 

The Walk for Peace Continues...

  

"We walk not to protest, but to awaken the peace that already lives within each of us."

-- Bhikkhu Pannakara, spiritual leader of the Walk for Peace

 

I’ve been thinking about the group of Buddhist monks and their dog, Aloka, who began their journey in Fort Worth, Texas, and have been walking approximately 20 miles a day for about 80 days now.

That’s getting up in the morning, walking for 20 miles among traffic and throngs of well-wishers, supporters, and thankful folk inspired by their dedication, having one meal a day, sleeping, generally outside, then doing it the next day, and the next for approximately 120 days.

And I complained about a 30-hour course I am taking.

I fear for the monks and Aloka as they turn north toward Washington, D.C. It can be bitterly cold there.

I was disheartened this morning when a friend told me she hadn’t heard of the monks' walk for Peace.

Isn’t it in the news?

Their story is abundantly recorded, videoed, and posted on Instagram—their walking, their millions of followers, Aloka, their street dog from India, now a peace promoter, and the story of one monk who lost a leg when a truck plowed into their escort vehicle, which ricocheted into the marchers, injuring two monks.

Still, the able-bodied monks march, accompanied by Aloka. I saw him frolicking with a wild boar during one day’s walk. He eagerly greets children, allows them to pet him, romps on the grass beside the roadway, and trots with the group or leads them.

He had to be quarantined when he arrived in the US, (In one picture, I saw the facility's logo that tenderly cared for him during quarantine—it was ARC). Quarantine meant being separated from his tribe for a time. And three days ago, he had surgery for an injured leg, another separation.

Today I saw him reunited with his group, but only for a short while; he must go back to rehabilitation.

While still in India, he was struck by a car and became ill, but he joined the monks there on a 112-mile walk for peace, and they wouldn’t leave him behind.

Now he is the Peace Dog in the US.

This group of monks and their faithful companion is a shining moment in an otherwise depressing and discouraging time.

Perhaps a silent walk asking only for Peace, Kindness, and Compassion will show the way. Perhaps a whisper for peace speaks louder than a shout.

And to all the folks out in the streets, respectfully watching them pass, urging them on, offering water or food, offering flowers, eager to pat Aloka, and looking out for his safety, I commend you. ❤️❤️❤️❤️You are what makes America Great—your heart, ❤️ your love, ❤️ your yearning for peace and stability. You want a land where you can breathe free, a land without constant fear and disruption. You have gentle psyches. Those psyches deserve protection from constant wrangling, fear, and distrust.

You are the Peace Lovers, the people lovers, and the life-affirming folks.

I wanted to tell everyone about the Buddhist Monks Walk for Peace, and their faithful companion, Aloka. I figured they had already heard of it. But then the friend told me she didn’t know about it, so I’m back here showing pictures and telling you that there are lovely compassionate people in our country.

To follow and keep abreast of their whereabouts, please go to Instagram: Walkforpeace.usa    or   alokathepeacedog

Aloka will not walk the entire distance because of his surgery. He will be walking short distances to build up his strength while allowing his leg to recover. If he had his way, he would be walking with them. When they placed him in a vehicle, he made it clear he would rather walk, even if it’s cold.

The monks ask for nothing. They walk for Peace, Kindness, and Compassion, and with the prayer that this is not a one-time event but a peace for all time.

That’s it.

News stories:

https://www.yahoo.com/news/videos/meet-buddhist-monks-pilgrimage-peace-030520906.html?fr=yhssrp_catchall/

or

https://www.usatoday.com/story/news/nation/2026/01/13/buddhist-monks-walk-peace/88160541007/

 

 

 

“The more at peace you become, the less you tolerate chaos.

“You stop explaining yourself to people committed to misunderstanding you.

_You stop showing up in places that disturb your calm.”

--Tibetan Monk

 

Walk With US

 

 

 

Aloka, the Peace dog is up and recovering from yesterday's surgery on his leg.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Following the Monks Walk for Peace across a bridge over troubled waters.

The Buddhist Monks Walk for Peace:

1. To awaken the Peace that lives in all of us.

2. Walk with us mentally. 

“Mentally walk with us,” they said, and I think of walking 20 miles one day, then 20 miles the next and on and on for 120 days.

They began in Texas in October 2025, and plan to be in Washington, D.C. in February, a 120-day trek. On January 12, 2026, it was their 77th day of walking.

They are a light shining in darkness.

Yesterday, Aloka, the Peace Dog from the streets of India, where he was a stray who followed the Monks on a 112-mile trek for Peace, UNDERWENT SURGERY for a foot/leg injury.

I know he was struck by a car in India and became sick, but he had been frolicking and happy on his trek in the US. A 3-hour surgery only took an hour, and he is awake and recovering.

There will be a period of recovery, and only 10-minute walks 6 times a day.

When they placed him in the car, for it was bitterly cold, he made noises the entire time. He wanted to be outside walking with the monks.

 

I'm writing a Newsletter, yes again, this one will pertain to writing only, different. and because every writer should have a newsletter, and I'm a writer, well, you see I have to have one.

  josnewsletter.com/

I’m inviting you to my Newsletter, but only if you mean it, are a writer, interested in writing, or simply curious. A subscription would allow you to know when I publish new material, or, of course, if you are reluctant to put your email address into the slot, you can email me directly at joshappytrails@gmail.com, and I will forward you a “Notice of new content posted.” Nothing else.

Jo’s Newsletter will be dedicated to subjects about, pertaining to, or information about writing. Well….a little of my personal life might slip in. Like this morning, I decided that morning isn’t morning for me until I spill my coffee.  I don’t mean a dropped cup, I mean a dribble, a splash, a slop.

 

Heaven help me.

I try to carry too much out to my office behind the house, two hands. three, four, five or six items, books, papers, gloves, a trek stick, a key for the office, plus two or three dogs wanting into the outback’s yard through the office’s side door. Who gets the brunt of it? My coffee.

Good thing I’m not spilling it on a dog.

There will be no duplication of my other blogs on my Jo's Newsletter. It will be for writers and interested parties only. And there will be NO AI USED IN MY CONTENT.

AI makes me livid. Almost everywhere I go, it wants to write for us. IF ANY SLIPS into my Newsletter IT WILL BE FROM TEMPLATES OR OTHER INVASIVE MATERIAL.

Why did we become writers?

Because we want to express ourselves, we love the craft, we love it when the Muse graces us with her presence, we want to stretch ourselves, we like investigating. How in the world can I write exposition, inner thoughts, outer descriptions, and dialogue all wrapped up in a pretty package of words?

I’m not a wordsmith.  I’m a painter with a pen—a phrase I remember for the Art Instruction Course I took when I was 18. Then, they were talking about pen and ink drawings. Now, I’m talking about writing.

Because we are fallible human beings, we make mistakes, typos, write stupid content, and sometimes write stuff that should be for our eyes only.  We try, we fail, we persevere.

It’s tricky.

Another thing: This morning, after reading Cara Hunter’s decision to remove herself from X (formerly Twitter—which I loved), I decided to remove myself as well. (It only took about an hour, password wrong, change password, get code, password wrong, “More” button—where the “settings” tab is stored, not working, changed carriers and got it. Whew.

A Northern Ireland politician (Cara Hunter) targeted in a deepfake video four years ago has said she is quitting Elon Musk's social media site X due to what she described as a "complete negligence in protecting women and children online".

I’m not a big-time contributor to X, so nobody will care if I’m on X or not.

But I care. 

I think I will go to Instagram. If the monks and their Peace dog Aloka can go on Instagram, I can.

https://josnewsletter.com/

                                                                 My baby