Author Ernie Carwile discusses his Maxwell Winston Stone series books. These resource books for learning include books on Adversity,  Self Worth, Death, Persistence,  Power of Silence &  Attitude.

As a new blogger, I sought advice from others more experienced. The one bit of advice I heard over and over is to be as vulnerable as I could.

Well, I hope this isn’t too vulnerable that I offend anyone, but here goes.

I have been in both great physical and emotional pain throughout my life, the impact from the sexual, physical and emotional abuse I experienced from my father. It has has left me quite damaged from spinal injuries and being physically crippled throughout most of my life. As for the sexual and emotional damage, it has been present since very early in life and wrought even greater damage.

A month and half ago, I fell on my back and reinjured my spine, injuries I have struggled with for seemingly forever.

This past week I was shocked to realize that my predicament today was very much like the same situation I was in ten years before — facing severe spinal pain with no hope of eradicating it for I have tried everything. A quote by Alan Lightman just popped into my mind. He said, “Suppose time is a circle which bends back on itself. Forever repeating, perfectly repeating.”

This scares the beejesus out of me!

Any suggestions? Because this is life actually …

I am nearly finished with a book on animals. Whereas I have always felt connected with any kind of animal or bug, after doing much research on our furry friends, I was blown away.

Here is one of the stories:

“HE DOESN’T EVEN KNOW HE’S DISABLED!”

“Max, remember the interview I had with Mandy and her therapy dog Chaco?”

“How could I forget it? Chaco’s eyes were so mysterious.”

“Well, before leaving the interview, Mandy suggested I contact a friend of hers who also has a therapy dog that was born in a puppy mill and had only two legs. Unfortunately, both legs were on the right side. This makes walking and running rather precarious.”

I had done some research on puppy mills before our meeting.

“If you don’t know what a puppy mill is, let me enlighten you. Primarily, it is a commercial breeding facility that is operated for profit and with little emphasis on the well-being of the dogs in their care. Females are often bred every time they go into heat to ensure the highest profits, but this eventually begins decreasing the size of their litters. The puppies are usually weaned (taken from their mothers) way before the recommended eight to ten weeks. Because of the vastly crowded conditions, most of the dogs become poorly socialized to both other dogs and humans. Puppy mill dogs are more prone to developing respiratory ailments, pneumonia and an array of heredity defects. Oprah Winfrey, on MSNBC in May of 2008, revealed puppy mills had cages way too small for the animals, chicken wire floors (that can trap dogs’ paws and legs) and cages that were stacked in rows from floor to ceiling. She said that many of these dogs spend their entire brief lives in these tiny cramped cages.”

Max was shaking his head in disgust.

“This is where the little two-legged, Sheltie dog named Dare To Find the Truth About Puppy Mills. Originally born with all four legs, one leg was most likely gnawed off by his mother. You see, many of the dogs go cage crazy in the cramped conditions, and the poor mother probably didn’t know what she was even doing. The other leg had been caught in the cage wiring and broken in so many places it proved beyond repair. It had to be amputated by a veterinarian when Dare was given to animal rescue.

I know that there are great tragedies that occur in the human condition also, but I wondered how many of us humans could continue on after such a dire beginning.

“When I asked Dare’s owner, Tami, why she decided to keep a two-legged dog and agree to all the extra work it would entail, she first looked at me like I was nuts, then explained, ‘Because the first time I saw him I just knew that I was just somehow tied to him and he to me … that somehow I sensed that Dare had a higher purpose for being here on earth … plus,’ she smiled big, ‘he has quite an attitude. He never quits!’”

“The higher purpose soon revealed itself. Dare and Tami do volunteer work at hospitals where Dare inspires human amputees. Tami says that she has heard many times from amputees, “When I see this dog who is missing two legs, it makes me realize that my one amputation is not so significant. I mean if he can do it, so can I.”

They also spend time at a school for kids with severe physical disabilities. “Dare provides those kids with acceptance,” Tami said, “where other kids might say, ‘I like you but …’ (meaning they don’t like the kid’s disability nor drooling), Dare simply doesn’t look at them as different. Dare simply gives them acceptance as they are; acceptance with no conditions … and don’t forget, they accept Dare right back.”

“But my most memorable experience,” she began, “was a thirty-year-old man who needed to have his foot amputated in order to live but kept cancelling appointments. One evening, he finally showed up and immediately gravitated to Dare. When it was time for the group meeting, he asked if Dare was going and when told yes, shocked everyone by deciding to attend.

“During that first meeting,” Tami explained, her face aglow, “I was surprised even more when the man spoke up during the meeting and talked about his fears about going through with the amputation all the while holding and stroking Dare. He concluded by saying, ‘If Dare could handle it, so can I.”

Tami also shared this charming little story. “When Dare plays with his four other Sheltie brothers, they all play well together. But what is so amazing is that when Dare becomes tired sooner than the other dogs because of his only two leg situation, one of the other dogs will allow Dare to lean on him—will stand perfectly still – until Dare recovers.”

“Dare, like Chaco, is an animal-assisted therapy dog. He and Tami went through rigorous training classes to earn this title and work as a registered team as part of a nonprofit organization called American Humane, just like Chaco and Mandy.

“People so often tell me that Dare is so lucky to have me,” Tami quietly said, “but the real truth is that I am the lucky one. He has enriched my life beyond words.”

“Dare inspires me daily,” she added. “You know, when a human is injured, they focus on the damaged area, the negative, and feel sorry for themselves. But an animal doesn’t – they accept it, adapt and move on with life. Dare has the most phenomenal attitude … Why, he doesn’t even know he’s disabled.”

Of course, Max had tears in his eyes and couldn’t speak, certainly a rare situation for this storyteller.

* * * *

I suddenly recalled the poem by D.H. Lawrence:

SELF PITY

I never saw a wild thing sorry for itself.

A small bird will drop frozen dead from a bough,
without ever having felt sorry for itself.

Death, is the topic and here is a first hand story from my past:

I was eight or nine years old when our family hurriedly rushed to see a relative whose imminent death had spread like a dark cloud over my parents. Never having met Great- grandmother Woody, if it wasn’t for the sadness felt especially by my father, I would have had few feelings at all.
Because of my young age, I had little experience with death, excepting a few pet frogs, but still sensed the power that the final act must have had. We had literally sped our way there as fast as humanly possible in a brand new Cadillac offered by a close friend. Our arrival in the huge finned beast caused serious gawking to those already present.
Immediately ushered into my grandmother’s bedroom, I purposely hung back so to allow others who had known her to say their tearful goodbyes, leaving me feeling small, out-of-place and lonely. Watching my father cry, an action I had never witnessed before, disturbed me much more than the pale, still figure lying on the bed.
Soon, murmuring questions spread throughout the rooms, wondering if she were still alive, alerted the old country doctor to bend over the body to listen for a heartbeat. After what seemed a lifetime, he arose with a saddened expression and formally announced she was dead. To confirm his statement he began lifting up the sheet which had been tucked under my great grandmother’s arms in order to cover up her face.
But, before the sheet had reached her face, Grandmother Woody’s eyes suddenly sprang open, and then in a voice as clear as a nightingale and with perplexed eyes gazing off to someplace beyond our room, she spoke these forever haunting words, “Oh my, I wish I had known before what I know now.” She then closed her eyes for the second and final time.
To say everyone in the room was shocked would be a grave understatement, for everyone was frozen still. Time had halted. Even the doctor stood as rigid as a stovepipe.
Chills running up and down my spine, I still remember looking around the room at those present and knowing for certain from their expressions that something rare and profound had just happened in this hot, overfilled bedroom in a small, lazy Texas town. The silence hung as thick as the densest fog, the reverie actually palpable, until the doctor revisited the old woman’s heart now with a stethoscope and assured us all that this time her life had ended.
Tugging on my mother’s arm, I asked the question that, though it was on everyone’s mind, somehow broke some unwritten rule, “What did she mean, Momma?”
My mother’s embarrassed yet shell-shocked gaze silently informed me that first, she had no idea, and second, to shush up.
This scene would prove to be paramount in my life, would baffle me to this day, and would be one that I would replay over and over while continuing to wonder about those two potentially cataclysmic questions, “What did she mean?” and, “What did she see?”

My question to each of you is this: What do you – no one else – believe happens when you die? I know, no one knows for sure. Just guess. Perhaps, whatever it is you believe about the afterlife determines much of how you live.

E-mail me with your stories and beliefs! Remember, this is all about life, actually …

I received many e-mails and telephone calls on the blog about the secrets to happiness, especially the part about that the key to anyone really being happy ,”is not owning or having more, but the true secret is needing less..

Here is a haunting story you might enjoy. It’s from my ATTITUDE book:
A very wealthy father wanted to teach
his son appreciation for what he had by showing
him how poor people lived. So after many telephone
calls he arranged for them both to spend two days
and nights on a farm most people would consider
rather paltry.
Driving home with his son after the two days, the
father asked him the pertinent question, “Did you see
how poor people live?”
“You bet, I did,” the boy replied.
“Well, what did you learn?” the father further
questioned.
After a brief moment in collecting his thoughts,
the boy responded;
“I saw that we buy our food, but they grow theirs …
and theirs tastes better.
“I saw they had four dogs where we only have
one.
“We have only a small piece of land and they have
acres and acres.
“We have a backyard swimming pool that is tiny
compared to their creek.
“We have walls surrounding our property. They
have friends to protect them.
“We have servants who serve us; they serve
others.”
The boy’s father was stunned—dumbfounded.
Then the boy concluded, “Thanks for showing me
how poor we are, Dad.”

But then its life, actually.

C-R-E-A-T-I-V-I-T-Y

Whether you even know it or are even aware it is happening, when you are being creative, this alone is proof positive that you have left the left hemisphere of you brain and emerged into Camelot, or the right hemisphere.