Why there are no stupid questions


Why are there never any stupid questions?

1. Because “stupid” is a negative judgement, not fact. And, well, just plain mean. (Although, you are surely entitled to believe it, just as I am to see it as mean…)


2. If a person asked you, they are seeking your answer. If that does not humble you, then at least respect the humble stance a questioner takes in so raising the question and then bringing it to you.

If one treats a question as stupid, with this understanding, one can demolish the individual if not yet strong enough to bear disgrace and humiliation, which many, not all but many, questioners are.

Especially… Our children.

So, no, there are no stupid questions.

Penny for your Thoughts?

Penny for your thoughts?


Are beliefs sacred?


“Beliefs are sacred” is a phrase I hear often from those of religious persuasions. In the rebellious stage of my Atheism I sieged against this premise, denying its holy truism.

There is something deep, personal, and “core-to self” (help me with the word…) when it comes to beliefs. It isn’t to be questioned by others, but the self. Beliefs are the sole property of the self.

Unless, one opens oneself to debate.

For example, I believe in gravity. There are sound basis to my belief in this concept: science, witness accounts, and sensory experience has proved this true to me. I am NOT open to debate on this one and will not be jumping off of buildings no matter how hard someone tries to tell me I can fly.

That is a core belief. No debates. It is mine, and one of many I need to ground myself into sane reality.

We all have core beliefs. Strangely, some people place what appears to most as “nonessentials” in this core belief realm and guard it with fervor. There are two types of people who do I this: the outwardly appearing arrogant who are truly just guarding themselves from harm and thus protecting their staying in a sane reality. An example of this is believing one’s dead mother is still alive; or, let’s be fun with this, Elvis being alive. Obviously one places this as a core belief to guard on self from the pain of addressing reality. Other types of people fall into the realm of what we call “insane” or “mentally ill”. What a sour judgment to make on our fellow man! Surely, you may not believe there are flaming monkeys in the TV, but as not normal as that sounds it is the individual’s belief and until he/she is able to open oneself up to debate, it will stay in his/her core, protecting the inner self.

And on that point I digress. Although I could continue.

Penny for your thoughts? As poor as I am at the moment, I will gladly scrounge for one if you but ask me,

Transgender, Sexuality, and Cruelty

You are beautiful, no matter who you are or become or was or will be. You are human, and part of us.

You are beautiful, no matter who you are or become or was or will be. You are human, and part of us.

**I wrote this without a lot of awareness of terms and uses of pronouns. This is new to me. Please forgive them before I get to a full edit.**

Today, I met and spoke as an equal with a transgendered individual who identified as “queer,” so in this post I will use “she” to identify “her” due to it being the gender “she” identifies most with and seeks to be. It was humbling, frightening, sickening, and saddening. The pain she has been through in her search for complete alteration (operation) shot a dagger of pain into my heart. I had to vent it out after our discussion lest I carry my sorrow over her pain all day.

She had been raped, faced with the rapist on the bus on her way home because she was afraid to prosecute him. She’s been called horrible things. Treated horribly. Shown almost no support due to their being so few people who identify as transgendered in our city. And yet still, had the strength to be alive today. As she unleashed her pain and suicidal thoughts and intentions (could not keep living pre-op, hated herself), I tried my hardest to understand, try to understand, and show support and complete non-judgement.

She was a wonderful person. I talked to her for the first time about by own monogamous polyamory (perhaps I will share at a later time, here, on that), and she understood and listened. We talked, and my heart lightened.

I hope to see her again, I hope she carries the strength to keep going. I hope humanity can rise above judging their fellow man for such things. I have hope that we can.

I can type no more on this, so please: your thoughts, feelings, reactions, advise, and stories for a penny or more.



I fell into a medical pit-fall. Since then, communication has been hard. The meds I am on causes shaking, stuttering, and a horrible lisp. Typing, with the shaking is a chore that drains.

However, it has pushed my mind in to contemplating language and its complexities. I use one word sometimes right now to communicate thing: “cold!” meaning ” I am currently cold, can you please roll up the car window and turn on the heat.” Fascinating and slightly codependent of us in that my husband understands my one word use of language.

Alas, I exhaust myself but would love to open the discussion with an added query into: nonverbal communication.

My last few pennies while I am off work, I would give gratefully for your thoughts!