Every day Math

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When I was younger, it was natural for me to lean toward people who expressed a level of disdain for “generically” traditional ways of life and living. For example, I grew up in a house that did not have a dinner table. Our family rarely ate dinner together. If we did sit down to eat together, we did not kneel in prayer for the meal; we knelt to sit on the floor to eat off the coffee table. Another memory/example is that our family did not go to church except at Easter. The real reason that we went at Easter was not to celebrate some traditional practice, but it gave my mother a good excuse to buy new Go-Go boots and a mini-skirt. My mother was opposed to anything that was traditional or systematic in terms of human interaction, which was odd because she held a job that relied upon a daily use of mathematics. Math is consistent. Math is reliable. Math is stable. Math has an expected outcome. Math cannot be glossed over. Math has a voice and it is heard whether you are listening to it or not. It’s hard to argue with math.

As I get older, I find myself moving away from people who are always challenging stability and consistency. I go out of my way to avoid people who live under a cloud of continuous, churning turmoil. The negativity that stems from constantly seeing everything as a target gets old. I certainly understand that mentality, for I grew up with it. I have worked for years to overcome the deep crevasses that it sliced into my soul. I find peace in stability. I find peace in an expected outcome. I crave a stable way of dealing with life. When there is unpredictability in life (Isn’t that what life is?), I deal with that unpredictable curve-ball in the most stable way that I can muster ( I’m not saying it’s perfect). I do my best to deal with problems like I am working a math problem. So, guess what teacher! I use math every day.


Hope is a deep well of creativity and life acumen. Hope produces a joyful minute by minute interlude of delight and expectation. Hope is glue. It sticks the hoper to something with structure which may very well keep them alive. Hope is sight; bringing clarity to murky situations and thought projections that seem to end in a descending tunnel of despair. Hope is what keeps us pinned to this planet as it spins in the orbit of the dark blast from which the universes arose. Light flashes brilliantly and beautifully for those who hope. When hope is overshot it fades into the murky void. To live in hope is to face an equal measure of disappointment and success while continuing the trek to a bright expectation.

                                                                                                                                           Kim Cline 2018

Excerpt from In the Fringe: Viewing the Review copyright 2018

On the Brink

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“How often on the brink of some discovery

Have we stood tottering, and yet still kept our ground…”?   ~ Thomas Otway

We look over the edge of possibility and we dream. We have the tools at our fingertips to utilize and make the dream a reality, and yet we freeze in our tracks. The “fear” of the unknown venture appears to outweigh the rewards of new territories discovered. Where is the pioneering spirit?

 The bold have nothing to lose, or so it seems. We, the little lambs, travel in the ruts that others initiated. We have fallen into the deeply carved mindsets where middle ground is the best ground. The idea and discovery pioneers of old would have turned the page on life with a whimper, if they had quelled the boisterous command of “go!”

The fear speaks loudest right before the breakthrough. Don’t listen to that corrupt voice. Work your dream and take others with you on the new path.

The process of grief

“Give sorrow words; the grief that does not speak knits up the o-er wrought heart and bids it break.” 
― William Shakespeare, Macbeth

The five stages of grief, as explained by psychiatrist, Dr. Elisabeth Kubler-Ross, are denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance.  Healing and loss speaker, David Kessler, has gone on to add a sixth stage of grief – meaning.  My thoughts on this 6th stage to grief is that we all want “meaning” when we have gone through a loss, or a perceived loss. We all want understanding. 

The length and levels of this theoretical, systematic process vary. Each individual will (and should) invariably go through some level of grieving over each actual loss, or each perceived loss. I say “perceived loss” because the pain experienced can be just as real when you “think” you have lost something or someone permanently through death or destruction. This may not be the case. Possibly, someone has temporarily removed themselves from your life, and they later get in touch with you to reconnect. Or, you may have misplaced a valuable object and weeks later find it. These scenarios can seem permanent at the time, and may trigger the stages of grief. It is still a feeling of loss to you, even if it is remedied later on.

I highly recommend that people seek out professional help with their grief process.

When a child loses a toy, or has a toy jerked from her hands by another child, and she is unable to retrieve it, she may go into a process of grief. Every stage might not be exhibited in the precise order that most text books list, but there will be a display of emotional levels.  I believe that each person will go through a necessary grieving process, unless that person stymies it with the dark ink of bitterness.

In truth, there is no “end” to the grieving process when you have lost a loved one.  Early in the grief process, grief can act like a sinkhole that deepens and widens with each recount of the “incident.” The pain surrounding the loss of a loved one may slightly lessen years down the road, but the memory of that loss seems to stay with most people for the rest of their lives. I have talked with people who have prematurely lost a loved one. They have expressed that they are always aware that their loved one is gone, and they are always aware of a sense, or feeling of loss in their emotions.

When you are stymied in the grief process by bitterness, the ink of that bitterness frames and floods the remembrance surrounding the loss. Bitterness can poison the entire process and keep you in a stage of grief for years beyond what is normal, and again, I use the word “normal” lightly.

I have had conversations with people that experienced loss, and I could still see the bitter anger on their face – twenty years after the incident of loss. The daily torment of bitterness takes a toll on the health and well-being of a person. Don’t let bitterness stymie the process of grief and grief recovery. Seek help from a professional.

National Helpline for substance abuse and mental health 1.800.662. 4357 (HELP)

National Suicide Prevention Helpline 1.800.273.8255