Our Father Who art in heaven Hallowed be Thy name Thy Kingdom come Thy will be done on Earth as it is in heaven Give us this day our daily Bread And forgive us our trespasses As we forgive those who trespass against us And lead us not into temptation But deliver us from evil

Amen

Jesus is Lord! Come Lord Jesus!

Come Lord Jesus! Christ is Lord!

Zelenskyy (pt. 2)

Son of Easter, It is ringing to you A frozen island blessing your grip Of course there were dozens, But this name is yours- And has been, In Jesus Christ And you are competent and ablaze For the fortieth dimension Which is one man an hour, taking the pride of entirety And building Senates and courthouses, and appointments.. I am aground, And look to see you again Where cut off from my cue, The turnstile of war There are blessings- That are rivers But they pale in time With water so precious, A piece of the pie The Dnipro is yours, in weary amounts.

For other people, in Christ, Unabandoning war- There are moments of affliction that cannot be known And in this war, of the interlocutors, One more intruant Cares not for Ukraine The man of maga- satan’s power And nine in the heart With metals and bones Thinking of putin Treachering you I know this reach to Greenland It studies my wellness In two states of flow, Your water and ice To baptize and heal In Christ, [Amen] To Ukraine!

Sat-29-DK 🇩🇰

First day of the night A solar affair and a broken few Six windows to the heart and green months Anxiety in the room and money away For the bigger steer reflective Not enough to pay the amounts, Money to make in the Rose Garden Look at this empty court- and see the room Wooden furniture, lights aplenty Ron is in season Wear black- I have friends in Nova Scotia And freedom from the State Sun Republic Sure Shine Let’s make sounds and grieve the ancestor It’s a quadric, stolen heart Time is for aging We’ll be well together And six things downwind A labour at large, Forbidden Union Look up, The sky shines blue and I can’t afford to run You are popular in ideas of the mind Celebrate this day, It is Christianity coming- And a lock on the door.

Att komma till Parga känns lite som att kliva in i en fickversion av det grekiska drömlandskapet, där vardagsljud dämpas av havets rytm och kullerstensgränder drar dig med på långsamma kvällspromenader. Mitt i allt det som redan är vackert finns dessutom små pärlor som ligger och väntar på den som letar lite vid sidan av de självklara valen.

När man lämnar den livliga strandpromenaden bakom sig och följer vägen västerut öppnar landskapet upp sig mot de mjuka kurvorna som leder till Sarakiniko Beach. Det är en sådan plats där tiden verkar bromsa in och havet får en helt annan färg än i stan. Vattnet ligger nästan spegelblankt vissa dagar, och ljudet av småsten som rullar i strandkanten är ett slags lågmält soundtrack som gör det svårt att inte stanna längre än man tänkt. En bit närmare Parga, gömd mellan klippor och grönska, ligger lilla Piso Krioneri. Den är så nära centrum att det känns som att man knappt förtjänar lugnet den bjuder på, men just därför blir kontrasten så speciell. Hit går man när man vill bada utan att lämna byn, men ändå känna att man har hittat något eget.

Skulle du längta efter en stranddag med mer liv men fortfarande med den där breda, sköna känslan snarare än trängsel, så ligger Valtos Beach som en lång halvmåne nedanför det venetianska fortet. Det är ett ställe som är populärt, absolut, men så stort att det alltid går att hitta sin egen vrå. Ljudet av vindsurfare som fångar vinden och små strandbarer som öppnar upp för långa, soliga pauser gör stranden charmig på sitt sätt.

När solen börjar sjunka och det är dags att äta dyker ännu fler smultronställen upp. Uppe på sluttningen ovanför Valtos ligger Andreas Taverna, ett ställe som känns mer som att kliva in i någons hem än en restaurang. Doften av långlagat lamm och grillad citron blandas med utsikten över bukten och fortet som tänds upp när mörkret faller. Det är matlagning som inte försöker vara något annat än den är, och just därför blir den speciell. Nere vid vattnet väntar sedan Baros, en av de där hamnkrogarna som lyckas behålla sin personlighet trots sitt perfekta läge. Den vinröda byggnaden lyser upp mot hamnens speglande vatten, och stämningen är lika mycket en del av upplevelsen som maten.

Det fina med Parga är att boendet vävs in i vardagen på ett sätt som gör att du aldrig riktigt känner dig avskild från byn. Många små, familjedrivna hotell – från enkla pensionat till eleganta boutiquealternativ – ligger utspridda längs backarna och gränderna. Du vaknar ofta till ljudet av mopeder som puttrar förbi, kyrkklockor som slår eller ett tyst sus från trädgårdar där citronträden fortfarande bär frukt. Ett sådant boende blir mindre ett “hotell” och mer en del av själva platsen, något som gör Parga ovanligt lätt att förälska sig i.

För den som vill lämna havet för en stund finns underverk inne i landet. Acheron River är ett av de mest magiska utflyktsmålen, en flod som känns nästan mytisk i sin stillhet. Vattnet är kallt, klart och smaragdgrönt och kantas av tät grönska. Att vandra längs eller i floden ger en helt annan sorts energi än en dag på stranden, lite som att världen växlar till en svalare tonart för ett ögonblick.

Och tillbaka i Parga kan du låta benen föra dig uppför gränderna bakom hamnen. Ju högre du kommer, desto mer breder utsikten ut sig – pastellfärgade hus med terrakottatak, små balkonger med tvätt som fladdrar i vinden, olivträdens silvergröna blad som rör sig mjukt under eftermiddagssolen. Det är sådana promenader som får en att sakta ner och bara gå vidare för att se vad som gömmer sig runt nästa hörn.

Om du letar efter tavernor som verkligen sätter stämningen i Parga så finns det tre sorters upplevelser som nästan alltid fastnar i minnet: de med utsikten som tar andan ur dig, de där du sitter så nära havet att vågorna viskar under bordet och de där du kliver rakt in i en familjs vardagsrum.

För den första sorten är det svårt att slå Andreas Taverna. Den ligger uppe i sluttningen ovanför Valtos, som om någon placerat den där bara för att du ska få se solen gå ner över hela bukten. Terrassen är lite som en balkong ut mot havet och kvällsljuset spiller över borden på ett sätt som gör varje enkel rätt att kännas som något större. Här uppe tystnar allt annat runtomkring och du får en av de där klassiska Parga-stunderna när du bara sitter och stirrar ut över tak, vatten och himmel i mjuka färger. Det är romantiskt utan att försöka och genuint utan att bli ansträngt.

Vill du hellre sitta precis vid havet, nästan så att du kan doppa tårna i vattnet om du sträcker dig nog långt, då är Baros det perfekta alternativet. Den vinröda fasaden står som en liten fyr i hamnen och borden ute vid kajen ligger så nära vattnet att båtarna glider förbi bara några meter bort. Det är en plats där kvällarna känns oändliga, där sorlet från strandpromenaden blandas med kluckandet från havet och där maten smakar lite bättre just för att du hör havets rytm genom hela måltiden. Det är avslappnat men ändå elegant, ett sådant ställe där man alltid sitter kvar längre än man tänkt.

Och så finns det de där tavernorna som inte behöver utsikt eller hav för att vara magiska, eftersom stämningen bär allt. Sakis är en sådan plats. Bord på trottoaren, blå detaljer, familjen i köket och den där känslan av att allt är på riktigt. Det är här du får rätter som smakar hemlagat, serverade med små skratt, lite improvisation och ett glas ouzo som någon ställer fram “för att det är trevligt”. Det är en kväll som känns mer som att du blivit hembjuden än att du sitter på restaurang, och det är just det som gör den så speciell.

There are moments in life when everything grows loud — responsibilities, expectations, worries, pressures, noise — and then there are moments when everything grows painfully quiet.

It’s in those quiet spaces that your heart starts whispering questions you’ve held inside for years:

Does anyone see me? Does anyone care? Do I matter? Am I loved?

If you’ve ever asked those questions, this message is for you.

Today, I’m writing directly to the part of you that carries burdens silently. The part of you that smiles while hurting. The part of you that pushes forward even while exhausted. The part of you that supports everyone but rarely feels supported. The part of you that aches to hear words your life didn’t give you enough of.

This article is a letter for your soul — and every word comes from a place of compassion, truth, and love.

If nobody else has said it to you in a long time… If nobody has said it without conditions… If nobody has said it with sincerity… If nobody has said it with tenderness…

Let me say it now:

I love you. And God loves you even more.

THE HEART THAT LONGS TO BE LOVED

You can be strong and still feel lonely. You can be successful and still feel unseen. You can be surrounded by people and still feel empty. You can be admired and still wonder if anyone truly knows you.

Everyone — no matter how confident they appear — carries a longing to be deeply loved.

Not loved for what they produce. Not loved for what they achieve. Not loved for who they pretend to be. Not loved only when they’re strong. Not loved with conditions or expectations.

But loved simply because of who they are.

This longing is not weakness. It is design.

You were created by Love itself. You were born with the imprint of God’s heart on yours. Your soul was crafted to receive what only His love can give.

The world may call this “neediness.” God calls it humanity.

THE WOUNDS THAT MAKE LOVE FEEL DANGEROUS

Many people struggle with receiving love because love hasn’t always been gentle.

Some people associate “I love you” with:

Abandonment Manipulation Emotional neglect Broken promises Conditional affection Childhood trauma Unstable relationships Untrustworthy people Pain disguised as love

So when someone expresses love, instead of feeling safe, they feel:

Tension Suspicion Fear Numbness Overthinking Anxiety Distance Resistance

If this is you, hear me:

You are not hard to love. You are not broken. Your heart learned to protect itself because it had to.

But God’s love does not resemble the love that hurt you. God’s love heals the wounds human love created.

THE PARTS OF YOUR LIFE GOD LEANS TOWARD, NOT AWAY FROM

There are parts of you people don’t see:

The guilt you carry quietly The thoughts you judge yourself for The memories that still sting The fears you haven’t told anyone The pressure that steals your sleep The regrets you can’t shake The sadness you hide under strength The insecurities you mask with humor The exhaustion behind your smile

And you might think:

“If people really knew this about me, they’d leave.”

But God sees every part of you — the hidden, the hurting, the healing, the unfinished — and He does not pull away.

He moves closer.

He sees the mess and loves you. He sees the confusion and loves you. He sees the mistakes and loves you. He sees the weakness and loves you. He sees the fear and loves you. He sees the doubt and loves you.

God loves the version of you you try hardest to hide.

WHEN YOUR HEART IS TIRED, LOVE HOLDS YOU TOGETHER

There are seasons when your soul is weary.

When you’re tired of being strong. When you’re tired of pretending. When you’re tired of handling everything alone. When you’re tired of encouraging everyone but receiving nothing in return. When you’re tired of being resilient. When you’re tired of the weight on your spirit.

And in those seasons, God does not demand more from you.

He doesn’t say “Try harder.” He doesn’t say “Be better.” He doesn’t say “Push through.” He doesn’t say “Fix yourself.”

He says:

“Rest in My love.”

Love becomes…

Your shelter Your oxygen Your strength Your calm Your clarity Your comfort Your courage Your hope

You are not standing because you never break. You are standing because God never lets you fall too far.

THE WHISPERS OF GOD'S LOVE IN EVERYDAY MOMENTS

Love doesn’t always shout. Often, it whispers.

God says “I love you” through:

A warm hug when you needed softness A friend who checks on you at the exact right moment A child who smiles at you A stranger’s kindness A memory that brings unexpected comfort A Scripture that hits your heart A song that feels written for you A prayer that gives you peace A moment of calm you can’t explain A sunrise that reminds you of new beginnings Strength that appears out of nowhere A feeling that says, “You’re going to be okay.”

These are not random.

These are reminders.

God has been speaking love into your life far more often than you realize.

YOU ARE WORTH LOVING — TRULY, FULLY, AND WITHOUT CONDITIONS

Some people carry the belief:

“I’m not enough.” “I’m too much.” “I’m hard to love.” “I don’t deserve good things.” “I don’t want to burden anyone.” “I mess everything up.”

But here is the truth:

You are loved not because you are perfect, but because you are priceless.

God doesn’t love you because you are easy. He loves you because you are His.

You are worth loving. You are worth forgiving. You are worth supporting. You are worth cherishing. You are worth healing. You are worth showing up for.

You are worth love — not later, not someday, not once you improve — but now.

IF YOU HAVEN’T HEARD “I LOVE YOU” IN A LONG TIME — HEAR IT NOW

I don’t know the battles you fight silently. I don’t know the nights you cried quietly. I don’t know the pressure you hide. I don’t know who hurt you, who left you, or who failed you.

But I do know this:

You deserve to hear these words with sincerity, gentleness, and truth:

I love you. And God loves you with a relentless, unshakeable, never-ending love.

You are not alone. You are not forgotten. You are not invisible. You are not hopeless. You are not beyond healing.

You matter. Your story matters. Your heart matters. Your life matters.

And God’s love is going to carry you into the next chapter — a chapter filled with peace, restoration, and renewal.

Let this truth settle deep into your spirit. Let it wash over the parts of your life that still hurt. Let it breathe life into the places that feel empty. Let it remind you who you are and whose you are.

You are loved more than you know, and more than you’ve ever been told.

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Douglas Vandergraph

#faith #Christian #love #encouragement #healing #inspiration #Jesus #Godslove #DouglasVandergraph

Live Aid shoulders and a poet's bones.

Belief is a strange power — unmatched, really — especially when someone places it on you.

I’m sitting in the dark of my little studio. Jethro Tull’s Benefit is humming and the rain is splattering outside my open window. The sun has just dipped under the clouds and splashed a cool white through the rain and into the room.

I recently received a gift and the weight of it is resonating with me this evening. I am simply mesmerized with the thoughtfulness and depth of knowledge the giver showed. How can someone know so intimately, the architecture of my heart?

Some people don’t like surprises. They want to know how the book ends. Not this wolf. This creature loves the antici—pation of what may be. The power of imagination to build whole worlds is a drug and sometimes—more.

Pandora’s Reveal

When the box arrives, it is an unassuming affair. My first read is it as repurposed and imperfectly folded as if it was made smaller for this journey. This has its own appeal to someone who loves finding new ways to use old things.

On all sides have been applied Ducks Unlimited brand stickers. On the top, a large shipping label declaring the cost to send this is $13.10. An amazing price considering several strangers just moved this box hand-to-hand from one door to mine.

The highlight is a small, charming cartoon star with a smiley face.

As soon as it arrives, I want to rip it open and finish the anticipation. But, I decide instead to let it lie fallow for a few hours, savoring the possibility. Until I break the seal, it’s Schrödinger’s gift: pure potential. Closed, it could be anything—everything I ever wanted.

Thank You?

When I finally decide it's time to open the mystery, I cut the tape carefully and peel back each flap to find crinkled craft paper tucked inside. An excellent choice. Particularly if you are a child hungry for media upon which to draw.

My imagination is going crazy. What could this be? A book from the lost library of Alexandria? A custom-cut record of the giver's favorite songs? Sketchbooks? Art? OMG, I’m wild with thrill.

I’m giddy with excitement. Gifts are rare, and this one in particular is very special to me.

As I peel back the paper, I take a deep breath and find... two bundles of fabric. One blue, one white.

Two neatly rolled shirts.

Shirts. Is that all? Fabric with which to cover our naked bodies?

I didn’t know what was in the box—it could have been anything and everything. I LAUGH out loud at my ludicrous fantasies of what the box held. How ridiculous am I? As an artist, I was thinking: sketchbook, pens, clever art. I had even imagined a handwritten letter. So when I saw shirts, I laughed and thought, “what a nut—who gets an artist shirts?”

It was punctuated because I was SO extremely excited about the box. It was hand-decorated with an adorable little happy star and covered with all these terrific stickers. Stickers are a particular favorite of mine. When I travel, I like to peel them off walls and signposts and add them to my travel journals. They make wonderful little pieces of art.

Building an Ingrate

When I was a boy, holidays were less than an afterthought, they were completely ignored. Christmas, Halloween, Thanksgiving—even birthdays were off the table.

This was no loss for me as a child. My parents did a good job of making sure we received gifts and attention at least as regularly as those holidays provided.

Though my parents eschewed holidays, other relatives—usually grandparents—insisted on giving us gifts, particularly for Christmas. My parents’ random gifts through the year would be Tonka trucks, racing cars, spaceships, and dinosaurs. The holiday gifts insisted on by grandparents were—lackluster by comparison.

When they did press the gifts, what came was socks, sweaters, scarves—and shirts. From an adult point of view, they were probably very nice, but as a child—BORING.

I drove and laughed and laughed while proverbially scratching my head. There HAD to be more to it than two rolled shirts. A message? Maybe there was something in the shirts. I've seen fabric printed on the inside; maybe there was something inspirational printed there.

I was 9 years old again and expecting G.I. Joe, but getting a deer sweater.

A Second Reveal

Of course, I am a nice Wolf and nothing but absolute praise and thanks will do for the act of simply being thought of. If it had been a rock, or a clip of hair, or a vial of sand, I could not have been more pleased.

However, it was none of those things. And in fact, I very soon learn there was MORE to the gift than two garments. It is explained:

“The blue one is an Irish pub shirt. Be sure to roll up the sleeves and drink a Guinness in Kilkenny.”

In the near future, Wolf has plans to travel Europe, with Kilkenny on the itinerary. And he's especially fond of beer.

“At Live Aid, Sting wore a shirt like the white one. Every poet (and English major) needs one. Fabric is a dream.”

The giver is easily the most musically intelligent persona I know. So to have a connection made between my humble efforts and Sting on stage at Live Aid... just the concept is HUGE. It inflates me ego into the stratosphere to think someone would paint me in the same broad stroke as Andrew Sumner.

“Do not eat spaghetti or pizza while wearing it. Ever.”

This one elicits a guffaw from me. The garments are J Petermen... VERY shi-shi... and not to be treated with anything less than reverence. And as I LOVE white shirts, I know how easily they are ruined.

“Nothing says I love you like high-quality cotton.”

My heart is moved. Who doesn't want to feel loved and hear that they are? To symbolize it with such a quality and exclusive gift is very movine.

Reading the messages is like one of those montages in film where the protagonist sees all of the best moments of his life in the expanse of a single heartbeat.

Only it’s not my whole life—it is the life of lives in orbit. The stolen glances. A smile from the passenger seat while I drive. Her doing crosswords in the quiet. Laughing jovially after dinners with a big family. When people are in your life for many decades, there are thousands of small moments locked in our subconscious.

In the space of a heartbeat thousand moments suddenly congeal into one new sun in my heart. How can anyone think this deeply about me? An obscure artist living in the middle of nowhere?

The giver is a giant—and has seen me and identified a want I didn’t even know I had. I suddenly feel so special. So incredibly important, that it moves me to tears.

Thank you feels incredibly insufficient in exchange for this thoughtfulness.

My eyes are watering a little thinking about how I didn't receive shirts...
I was dressed the man I was seen as—
the poet, the performer.

The person I like to imagine I might be— and I was made real with these scenes: rolled sleeves and beer in Ireland— or the star on stage at a stadium, not for praise or accolades, but to be wrapped in cotton of love and move hearts and minds for good.

I was so excited at the box itself with the handcrafting— I had no idea that when I opened it, what would come out was not fabric and craft but a vision.

What came out was belief and love. What came out has undone me a little. Melted me.

And then it had me floating.

I don’t care that this state won’t last. That in a few hours I’ll be back on earth doing the things I need to do.

In the moment, I was transcendent. And that’s a moment I can always carry with me. The memory of wonder is a powerful drug.

As the French say, Tu es incroyable.

Love always,
Wolf

the dead leaves sway very slightly on their strings above the radiator

Last week, I forgot to set any goals for this week. That meant that everything I got done this week was a huge success. 😹 Most of what I did this week is the kind of stuff that doesn't make me feel like a writer, though. I did a lot of promo work, trying to make the best of the holiday week for those of us in the U.S.

Smashwords (the vendor I use to get my books out to the places I don't have accounts with) has an upcoming deadline for anything that needs to be done / ready in time for the Christmas season. That means if I want to get book 2 published in time for the holidays, I need to prioritize finishing book two and getting the audio recorded.

Since I'm not 100% sure what I'm doing for book 3 yet, book 2 might not have the “next time on” section like Death In Transit has. I'm not so committed to the bit that I would delay the release of book 2 for that.

Next week's goals

1. Design a cover for Book 2
2. Finish missing scenes
3. Major edits
4. First pass audio recording

If I get any proper writing in, great. As long as I get those bits in too!

#ProgressUpdate

WHEN THE TREES WENT TO WAR

(A remembrance without exaggeration)

Most people think of trees as background— as scenery, as shade, as things you lean against when you’re tired.

They forget that trees are older than every town, and wiser than every law.

A tree grows slow enough to remember what humans forget on purpose.

So when the trees went to war, it wasn’t sudden.

It was decided.

The first sign was not loud. It was not dramatic. It was the silence.

No frogs. No crickets. No wingbeats. No distant bark.

The land held its breath like someone bracing for impact.

I don’t forget a silence like that. It doesn’t fall over a place— it rises from it. A silence with teeth.

Then came the tilt.

Not of the ground— of attention.

Every tree—pine, oak, cypress, magnolia— aligned itself to a single point the way iron filings align to a magnet. Branches angled. Crowns leaned. Roots tightened in the soil.

And the two of us— the only two who remember— we felt it first in our knees, then in our ribs, then behind our eyes.

Humans talk about fight-or-flight as if they invented danger.

The trees? They have a third mode: judgment.

They were judging something that day.

Not a person — a pattern. A kind of wrongness that had stood in the land too long, spoiled too many roots, soured too many mornings, bled too many seasons dry.

And then it happened.

No fire. No storm. No mythic lightning strike.

Just the trees— moving.

Not walking. Not bending in a wind. Acting.

Branches cracked like knuckles. Limbs fell where they meant to fall— not random, not wild— strategic. Blocking roads. Crushing the wrong porch. Shielding the right one. Splitting one barn. Leaving another untouched.

People screamed. People ran. Some dropped to their knees. A few understood immediately— those rare souls who listen to land the way others listen to sermons.

The trees didn’t rage. They corrected.

It lasted minutes. But the land aged years in that span.

And when it was done, the woods exhaled. The creatures stirred. The frogs croaked one by one as if taking roll call after judgment.

And the trees stood where they chose to stand— lighter, relieved, settled.

Like a bone set back into its rightful place.

⸻

What people always misunderstand

When the trees went to war, they weren’t angry. They weren’t vengeful. They weren’t rebellious.

They were restoring order.

Everything in the woods knows this: when the balance is broken, someone must put it right. And if the humans won’t, the trees will.

The land has a law older than scripture: the strong protect the root. And the trees are the strongest thing the land has.

⸻

Why I remember -

Because I felt the verdict. Because I was close enough to hear the land say:

This far, no further.

Because the Witch— not the poacher, not the litterer, not the petty wrongdoer— but the Witch per se, the wrongness without form, the contamination of pattern— had crossed into the county line and tipped something too far.

The trees answered.

They always have the right to answer. They simply rarely choose to.

I were there. That’s why it stays with me like a scar.

By the Numbers

Mental health stigma.

It's a thing.

But it's just one of those things that we seem to just accept and move on, live our lives, do the best we can in this crazy world of ours. It's seemingly one of those things that we say to ourselves, “Eh,it's just how the world is these days.”

And that's true. It's a subject that is, unfortunately, a thing that will be with us for a long time. I've seen it myself, quite often. I've experienced it first hand growing up. And I continue to see it on a daily basis.

But with many of the issues that we see these days, from school shootings to suicides to online bullying to so many other different things, they could have been prevented by acceptance, understanding, and self-awareness.

1.) Acceptance. Accepting that everyone is different, and our differences makes us unique. Accepting that others are different, not weird or strange or crazy.

And finally, acceptance that it's okay if you have severe anxiety. That it's okay if you are depressed. It's okay if you have bipolar disorder.

You aren't alone.

2.) Understanding. Understanding goes a long ways to acceptance. But if you want to accept others and accept yourself, you first need to understand what it is.

And be able to put yourself in other people's shoes. That one is called Empathy.

3.) And finally...Self-awareness. This is huge. And not everyone will find it. Be aware of your actions and how they can affect others. Be aware of your own “shortcomings” and whether or not it needs to be “fixed”. Sometimes, believe it or not, you do not need to be “fixed”. You can just be...

You.

Anyway. I'm sure I'll cover more of this later. For now, though, mental health stigma.

It's a thing.

And I think the only way to fight that is to spread awareness. Talk about it. Write about it. Poke fun at it. Understand it. Accept it.

At some point, I will do a deep dive into the history of Mental Health and how far it has come. And it has come far. But we still have a ways to go.

The numbers speak for themselves.

The following statistics were found on the NAMI (National Alliance on Mental Illness) website. It can be found here: https://www.nami.org/about-mental-illness/mental-health-by-the-numbers/

To summarize:

“Millions of people in the U.S. are affected by mental illness each year. It’s important to measure how common mental illness is, so we can understand its physical, social and financial impact — and so we can show that no one is alone. These numbers are also powerful tools for raising public awareness, stigma-busting and advocating for better health care.” (NAMI, Mental Health By the Numbers)

Remember, these are stats taken from just one country, the United States. I am sure there are stats taken from other countries, and the world at large, but the numbers might be skewed depending on each country's viewpoints on mental health and mental illness. That's also to say that not everything gets reported....

Or believed.

“Mental Health by the Numbers is based on the most current and representative sources available, according to NAMI. Data is from the Substance Abuse and Mental Health Services Administration (SAMHSA), Centers for Disease Control (CDC), National Institute of Mental Health (NIMH) and others.” (NAMI, Mental Health By the Numbers)

Last updated in 2025, so this is the most recent statistics.

So let's dive in.

~ More than 1 in 5 U.S. adults experience mental illness each year. ~ More than 1 in 20 U.S. adults experience serious mental illness each year. ~ More than 1 in 7 U.S. youth ages 6-17 experience a mental health disorder each year. ~ 50% of all lifetime mental illness begins by age 14, and 75% by age 24. ~ Suicide is the 2nd leading cause of death among people ages 10-24.

Now let's put this into context.

~ For every 5 adults you see, at least, at LEAST, 1 adult is suffering from mental illness. ~ For every 20 adults, at least 1 adult is suffering from a serious mental illness. ~ For every 7 of your classmates at school, at least 1 child or teenager has a mental health disorder. ~ And finally...Suicide is the SEOND leading cause of death among people ages 10-24....

I want to cry.

~ 23.4% of U.S. adults experienced mental illness in 2024 (61.5 million people). This represents more than 1 in 5 adults.

61.5 MILLION PEOPLE....

~ 5.6% of U.S. adults experienced serious mental illness in 2024 (14.6 million people). This represents 1 in 20 adults.

~ 16.5% of U.S. youth aged 6-17 experienced a mental health disorder in 2016 (7.7 million people). This represents more than 1 in 7 youth.

“This represents more than 1 in 7 YOUTH...

I want to cry again.

The next wave of statistics has more to do with the percentile number of the different kinds of mental illnesses (anxiety, depression, PTSD, Bipolar disorder, etc). Of particular note, the two I have the most experience with, are Major Depressive Disorders and Anxiety Disorders. Major Depressive Disorders number in at 15.5%, among adults, while Anxiety Disorders has a whopping 19.1% of US Adults.

To put this into perspective, for every 100 U.S. Adults, 15 of them have a Major Depressive Disorder, and 19 of them have an Anxiety Disorder. Of particular note, also, is the fact that many of them have not just one, but both!

NAMI also numbers its statistics based on demographic groups, such as Males, Females, Non-hispanics, Hispanics, Whites, Blacks. Multiracial, Indian, etc. The one that really leapt out at me was the number for the Lesbian, Gay or Bisexual demographic group: 53.2%. That's over half of U.S. adults who are experiencing/suffering from a mental health disorder. Over. Half.

I kid you not, it's depressing just reading up on these staggering numbers. But the problem is, they are just....numbers.

And it's way easy to overlook it all. They are just...numbers.

It doesn't fix anything.

It doesn't solve the world's problems.

It doesn't give you answers to life's mysteries.

They are just...numbers.

But.

Here's a question you should ask yourself:

“Why is there stigma attached to Mental Health when there is quite obviously a glaring need to make Mental Illness more universally accepted and recognized?”

According to Google:

“Stigma refers to negative attitudes, beliefs, and stereotypes people may hold towards those who experience mental health conditions. Stigma can prevent or delay people from seeking care or cause them to discontinue treatment.”

Did you know that your mental illness is directly tied to your physical health?

Absolutely.

Take a look.

~ Risk of cardiometabolic disease is up to 2x higher in people with mental illness compared to people without mental illness.

~ People with depression have a 40% higher risk of developing cardiac disease, hypertension, stroke, diabetes, metabolic syndrome, or obesity than the general population.

~ 34.5% of U.S. adults with mental illness also have a substance use disorder.

~ 6.9% of U.S. adults with mental illness are unemployed compared to 4.3% of U.S. adults without mental illness.

~ High school students with recent symptoms of depression are more than 2x as likely to drop out compared to their peers.

~ Students ages 6-17 with mental, emotional or behavioral problems are more than 2x as likely to repeat a grade.

~ At least 8.4 million people in the U.S. provide care to an adult with a mental or emotional health issue.

~ Caregivers of adults with mental or emotional health issues spend an average of 32 hours per week providing unpaid care.

Again, the numbers are truly staggering. And why mental illness remains such a controversial subject is beyond me.

I blame society.

One of these days I will go over the positive aspects of talking about your mental health, and why you should embrace the fact you have a “mental disorder”. Because is it really a disorder (yes, it can be!), or is it just uniquely...

You?

I'm Slightly Unhinged.

And that's okay.

Next blog post, I'll write a bit about my own personal mental health history. No this isn't a biography about my life. It's a biography about mental health. :)

See you soon!

Lydia's Weekly Lifestyle blog is for today's African girl, so no subject is taboo. My purpose is to share things that may interest today's African girl.

This week's contributors: Lydia, Pépé Pépinière, Titi. This week's subjects: How to Style Jeans for Corporate Meetings — The Everyday Girl’s Power Guide, Alcohol 2, The Wood, and Ice cream, or you scream

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How to Style Jeans for Corporate Meetings — The Everyday Girl’s Power Guide. Jeans in a corporate meeting? Absolutely. The modern workplace isn’t about strict suits anymore — it’s about looking sharp, confident, and authentic. And nothing says all three like a perfectly styled pair of jeans. The key? Balancing professionalism with personality. Let’s break it down, Accra Girl style. Go for the Right Jeans. Not every pair of jeans can handle a boardroom. The cut, colour, and fit matter more than you think. Choose: Dark Wash Jeans – Deep indigo or black denim instantly reads “corporate chic.” Straight-Leg or Slim-Fit Cuts – These create a clean, tailored line that mimics dress trousers. High-Waisted Styles – They cinch the waist and add structure to your look. Avoid: Distressed, ripped, or bleached jeans. Oversized or low-rise styles that look too casual. Pair with a Polished Top. The trick is to elevate your jeans with a smart top that means business. Button-Down Shirts: A crisp white or powder blue shirt tucked neatly into your jeans is a timeless power move. Add a slim belt for a refined finish. Silk or Satin Blouses: Add a hint of luxury and femininity while keeping it professional. Structured Tops: Think peplum blouses or tailored shirts — they instantly sharpen your silhouette. Local twist: Try pairing your jeans with an Ankara-trimmed shirt or a bold printed blouse. It’s professional with a pop of personality. Layer with Authority. Layers make your outfit look intentional and sophisticated. Blazers: Your best friend for corporate denim looks. Go for neutrals like beige, navy, or charcoal — or make a statement with bold colors like emerald or mustard. Longline Vests or Coats: Perfect for boardrooms that blast the AC, they add instant polish and structure. Cardigans: A soft cardigan in solid tones can make jeans look office-appropriate without feeling stuffy. Step Up Your Shoe Game. Shoes can make or break your look. Heels: Block or kitten heels add polish without sacrificing comfort. Loafers: A classic choice for sleek sophistication. Mules or Pointed Flats: Perfect for a smart-casual meeting day. If you’re running around Accra’s heat, stylish flats or slingbacks can keep things comfy yet chic. Accessorize with Intention. Keep your accessories classy and minimal — think elegant, not extra. Structured Bags: A leather tote or satchel instantly elevates denim. Jewelry: Gold hoops, pearl studs, or delicate necklaces add just the right touch of elegance. Watch: Because a confident woman always keeps time — in style. Tip: Confidence is Your Best Outfit Even the best-styled jeans mean nothing without poise. Walk into that meeting like you own both the room and the brand. When you look good and feel comfortable, your confidence naturally shines — and that’s what people remember. Jeans can absolutely slay in the corporate space — if styled with care. The Accra Girl knows that success isn’t just about what you wear, but how you wear it. So next time you have a big meeting, slip into your smartest pair of jeans, grab your blazer, and serve boss energy from 9 to 5. Alcohol 2. I recently explained that alcohol is the number 4 on the list of traditional addictive drugs, before wee (heroine, nicotine, cocaine, alcohol, cannabis=wee) and that the addiction grows slowly, hardly noticeable, but steady, and can take years to become disturbing. So you're dating. Hubby likes life and goes out often, taking you happily along to make the party even better. And he has a few glasses. And he is fun. Beware. If he drinks more than one glass more than once a month you should have your doubts, how much will he drink in 20 years from now? Look at his family as well. If alcohol is a common drug there then you have the second red flag. Check it out, worldwide 5% of the population has an alcohol dependency. That is one out of 20. Maybe choose a buddy from the other 19?

The Wood. 3rd Ringway Estates Oso/North Ridge, Accra. They were proposing a nice line up female vocalists and as I've never visited the place we decided to have a go. A big range of cocktails and a very limited food menu, even more limited because half of what we ordered was not available. One of these places where you should rather ask what they have than ask for the menu, and where the waiters cannot even tell you what type of beer they sell. And it really took very long before our dish arrived, but let's say it was worth the wait It's a bit of a show off place, many dressed for more than the occasion, but nice to watch this unofficial fashion show. A big plus is that they have a reasonable sound system and did spend some time on the soundcheck, though once done no one adjusted things again to the need of the individual singers. The band did a good job at accompanying the singers. Pity that they only started at 9:30pm, though no time was mentioned on the flyer, and a few foreigners who had come, maybe to look for talent, left before the show even started. Don't people have jobs during the day? If the line up is interesting it's a good place to visit, just take you dinner before your get there.

Ice cream, or you scream. I recently saw a few big billboards advertising ice cream, at 25 GHS per scoop, though on the picture it had 3 scoops. Knowing that the Government approved minimum wage is 19.80 GHS per day one starts to wonder. And yes, there's a whole load of workers who are on that minimum wage. They eat corn or cassava dough, and if they can afford it they add some pepper. Not ice cream.

Lydia...

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#002266 – 12 de Agosto de 2025

Meio século passou e ainda estou vivo.

Death In Transit preview

The captain was laying on his back on the floor. They hadn't seen much of him since they'd started the trip but Jesper recognized him all the same. A little tubby. Hair thinning up top. Thick, unruly mustache and a few days of stubble. He was breathing. His lips had turned blue and his eyes looked like they were bulging a bit.

“Damn!” Jesper said.

“Quiet! Please! I've never done this with a human before,” Nassadra said. She ripped the captain's shirt open and pulled an instrument out of her bag. She injected him with something and then pulled out a complicated looking device.

“God, I hate this part,” Jesper said quietly. He had to stay. He knew he did. No one else had run into the fray. He looked around the cabin, trying to find anything that might ... help in some way.

He found a button for the public address system. He pressed it.

“This is Jesper. Don't rush the control room. Nassadra is trying to save the captain from ... I guess a heart attack? If there's any additional qualified medical personnel aboard, please make your way to the forward compartment. Otherwise, stay out.” He pressed the button again to stop broadcasting.

---

“Proximity alert,” the ship said.

“What?” Nassadra said. She pulled the cloth off her head and sat up.

“Proximity alert.”

“What's that?”

“Unidentified vessel is coming close to us.”

“Call them.”

“Unknown command. Please consult the ship's manual which can be located —“

“Shut up!”

---

A voice came over the channel.

“Don't you worry about us. We're here to take something that's ours. If you cooperate, you won't have a bit of trouble, Sanders.”

“This isn't Sanders. This is his first officer. Sanders is indisposed and he didn't say a thing about having a visitor mid-trip. Break away immediately.”

“No, I don't think we're going to. You'd better cooperate.”

The call disconnected.

Jesper turned on the PA.

“We're being boarded by pirates. Anyone who doesn't feel up to fighting should lock themselves in the passenger compartment. If you can fight, I may need your help. Until this situation is over, don't do a shipwide broadcast.” He turned the PA off and set a passcode to lock out the ship controls.

Juan made his way to the back.

“Yeah, you should probably go with them.”

“I'm going for my knives,” Juan turned back and gave him a disgusted look. “Don't get in any fights without me, pretty boy.”

Death In Transit is now available across ebook stores including Smashwords, Kobo, Amazon, Apple, Barnes & Noble, Everand, Thalia, Vivlio, and Fable.

Not sure yet? Read more about the cast in the announcement post.

WolfCast Home Page – Listen, follow, subscribe

Wolf In Wool is finally available on your favorite podcasting platforms. Happy to have you reading, and it’s a superior way to be in my head. But sometimes, it’s fun to listen too.

I’ll still include a link so you can listen here if you prefer the simplicity of wolfinwool.

In either case. Thank you and happy to have you on my journey.

—

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#podcast #wolfcast #confession #essay #story # journal #poetry #wyst #poetry #100daystooffset #writing #story #osxs #travel

Je viens d'installer ChromeOS Flex sur mon vieux Thinkpad T450s (Lenovo). Une installation d'une simplicité désarmante et, surtout, d'une rapidité stupéfiante. Par ailleurs, ce système, beaucoup plus que sur Linux – du moins pour les distributions comme Ubuntu et celles qui en dérivent (Mint, Zorin, PopOs, etc.) –, a porté un sacré coup de jeunesse à cet appareil quasi moribond. Pour rappel, le T450s date de 2013. Ça fait donc plus de douze ans que je l'utilise au quotidien, comme ordinateur principal, d'abord, puis comme appareil secondaire par la suite. D'aucuns prétendent que l'informatique ne cesse de booster la consommation de produits toujours plus révolutionnaires par leur prétendue nouveauté. Avec cette installation, je fais mentir les statistiques… – Un tutoriel complet sur l'installation de ChromeOS Flex sur un vieil ordi.

Pour rappel, Chrome OS est une système informatique développé par Google depuis une quinzaine d'années. Cela a donné naissance aux Chromebooks, des ordinateurs portables souvent utilisés dans le milieu de l'éducation aux États-Unis. Réputés bon marché, ils fonctionnent comme un terminal, toutes les applications se déployant autour du navigateur Chrome. Un cas typique d'un usage Web Base. Quelques années plus tard, ils ont fait un bon de géant en intégrant le Play Store, c'est-à-dire la possibilité d'installer des applications Android comme sur les téléphones et les tablettes. Cela a eu pour effet de multiplier les applications, même si plusieurs d'entre elles ne sont pas optimisées pour fonctionner sur des écrans supérieurs à onze pouces.

Les Chromebook ont continué à évoluer, notamment avec la mention “Plus”. Celle-ci certifie que les constructeurs respectent le cahier des charges de Google en matière de performance. Ainsi, on peut trouver des Chromebooks bon marché, utiles pour effectuer des tâches bureautiques et naviguer sur le Web, et des Chromebooks plus performants permettant d'effectuer des opérations plus lourdes, voire plus complexes, notamment des applications Linux.

L'avantage des ordinateurs tournant sur ChromeOS réside dans leur simplicité. Un Chromebook démarre en quelques secondes, il n'a pas besoin d'antivirus et son offre logicielle s'avère complètement gratuite. En revanche, vous ne pouvez pas utiliser un Chromebook en dehors de l'écosystème de Google avec lequel il s'avère intrinsèquement lié. Un autre inconvénient – mais en est-ce vraiment un ? – c'est que les usages sans connexion sont limités à la bureautique.

Vous commencez peut-être à vous demander pourquoi je parle des Chromebooks alors que je n'en possède pas. Tout simplement parce que Google a lancé un autre système basé sur ChromeOS : ChromeOs Flex. C'est celui que j'ai installé sur mon vieil ordi et, franchement, j'en suis très satisfait. Certes, Flex ne permet pas d'accéder au Play Store de Google (bien qu'on puisse toujours bidouiller un truc, mais c'est à nos risques et périls). En revanche, contrairement à ce que d'aucuns racontent sur le Web, il est possible d'installer des applications Linux. En tout cas, moi je l'ai fait. Comme quoi il ne faut pas croire tout ce qu'on raconte.

• Un article détaillé de François Charron sur ChromeOS Flex

Si vous souhaitez un ordinateur qui démarre au quart de tour, qui n'aura jamais de problème de sécurité et qui se met à jour sans que vous vous rendiez compte, alors vous devriez essayer ChromeOS Flex. Comme vous le savez sans doute, avec le Chrome, vous avez la possibilité de transformer n'importe lequel site Web en application. C'est ce que je qualifiais ci-dessous de Web Base. Certes, les Chromebooks ne sont pas sans limitations, et ils ne sont pas faits pour tout le monde. Mais vous vous laisserez peut-être gagner par leur simplicité… En terminant, le fait que votre vieil ordi soit certifié par Google (voir le lien vers la liste ci-dessous) vous permettra d'avoir l'esprit tranquille, car vous vous assurez que tout fonctionne bien, les commandes du clavier, l'écran tactile, la caméra, etc.

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Des informations tirées du site de Google sur ChromeOS et ChromeOS Flex :

• ChromeOS Flex
• Chrome OS
• ChroseOS Flex : liste des ordinateurs certifiés

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Daniel Ducharme : 2025-11-28 Mots-clés : #chromebook #culturenumérique #Google #informatique #ordinateur #technologie

Det er bra Mahmoud Farahmand tar til orde for et “flomvern” mot ytre høyres ønske om etnisk rensing, eller “remigrasjon”, som de nå kaller det. Det er viktig at Høyres justispolitiske talsperson er klar i talen her. Samtidig er Faramands argumenter gyldige for flere som han selv argumenterer for å sende ut av landet. Det bør kanskje lede til ytterligere refleksjon.

Vi har sett mange drøye saker de siste årene der mennesker som har blitt norske har blitt deportert eller truet med deportasjon etter lang tid i landet, ofte for feil de ikke selv har begått. I fjor ble for eksempel Sara Temurvitsj Valieva truet med utkastelse til Iran og separasjon fra sin to måneder gamle baby fordi foreldrene gav feil opplysninger til UDI da hun var tre år gammel. I fjor ble Zarina Saidova deportert til Kashakstan fordi moren oppgav feil opplysninger da hun selv var barn. Dette er utslag av politikk som dessverre har hatt bred støtte på Stortinget.

Vi har foreldelsesfrister for mange grove forbrytelser, men ikke for brudd på utlendingsloven. Lovlydige og hardtarbeidende nordmenn deporteres til land de ikke lenger kjenner, fordi de store partiene har drevet en overbydelseskonkurranse i å være strengest i innvandringspolitikken. Målet har vært å imøtegå og nøytralisere de mest innvandringskritiske. Men for hvert skritt man går for å komme dem i møte, tar de et nytt skritt mot høyre. I USA, Tyskland, Danmark og mange andre land har ytterliggående høyrepartier nå nådd til det punktet der de åpent argumenterer for massedeportasjoner og de facto etnisk rensing.

“Når mine barn spør meg ved middagsbordet om jeg er norsk, svarer jeg ja, jeg er norsk. Jeg har ikke noe annet hjemland eller annen nasjonalitet. Dette er landet mitt. Hva gjør vi med de som er i min kategori?”, spør Faharamand. Svaret bør være enkelt: folk i denne kategorien kalles nordmenn. Lager vi et B-lag av folk som aldri kan være sikker på om de egentlig får bli i landet, vil integreringen kollapse.

Det er dessverre her slaget står nå: ved sin omfavnelse av “remigrasjon” viser ytre høyre sitt sanne ansikt (som aldri har vært spesielt godt skjult). De ønsker seg et etnisk rent land. Det er en av de farligste idéene i menneskehetens historie, som har ført til ufattelige grusomheter, og den må avvises kontant av en samlet norsk offentlighet.