Nicknames are powerful! Both my mother and my mother-in-law do not go by their legal names but by their nicknames. A family member of my spouse did not know that her name was not “Wendolyn” until she went to primary school, when they were calling for Magdalena, and she asked, “Who’s that?” Without realizing it […]
We need more love. More community. More communication. The reach of this blog, essentially worldwide 🌐 👏 [come on, Greenland 🇬🇱, and gotta work on South America and Africa 😁], is evidence that this is a worldwide problem. Seeing images of my fellow Christians being martyred in different parts of the world 🌎 reminds me
The post is a response to Dr. Raj’s writing, exploring how a neurodivergent perspective can create unique connections between seemingly unrelated topics. It emphasizes the importance of authenticity, mental health awareness, and community support within workplaces. The author encourages readers to embrace their individuality and reflect on their true home beyond earthly ties.
Living both a quality and long life is important. The interplay of our genes 🧬 and environment is discussed in this post.
Motorcycle accidents and faith healing became intertwined in my family’s story in ways I never expected. I remember reading a blog post by Veerite about his remarkable ability to bounce back from falls. My father wasn’t so lucky. When he fell from his motocross bikes, he didn’t always bounce back as easily, and those experiences taught me profound lessons about resilience, faith, and the nature of healing itself.
To me, my dad was my hero. I thought he was the coolest person in the world. Many times I would hold on tight behind him, feeling the wind rush through my hair, the scenery passing around us in a blur of motion and freedom. Those motorcycle rides represented more than just transportation—they were moments of pure connection between father and child, adventures that seemed to defy gravity and fear.
But motocross is an unforgiving sport. My father’s body bore the evidence of this reality. Unlike Veerite’s seemingly miraculous recoveries, my dad’s healing journey was longer, more complicated, and ultimately more dependent on faith than medicine alone could provide.
Even though we grew up in a Catholic home, as happens in many countries when someone is hurt and traditional medicine seems insufficient, desperation can lead families to seek healing anywhere. Someone paid for a healer—someone others whispered was actually a witch. Nothing really happened to my dad from this visit. He didn’t heal from the witch’s intervention, but only from time itself, slowly mending his wounds.
Looking back, I understand now that healing—whether from motorcycle accidents or life’s other injuries—often requires patience more than magic.
“Indulge in the wonderful prose of Super Veerite…”
Inquring minds want to know…construction…
What principles define how you live? I read response to this prompt by Aparna & I don’t have something wholly different from what she said. I am governed by supreme souls Gandhi, Vivekananda, literary giants like Tolstoy, Ibsen, Shakespeare, Shaw, Chekhov, Pushkin, Kant, Maupassant, Austen, Brontë, Tagore, Wilde, musical giants like Vidushis (like Pandits or
