Journaling is a great thing – but how much is too much? Check out why and how you should strike the balance.
Another short assignment on HeartBeings.com, this one detailing the reminder to socialize during the introspective moments of winter.
We are hosting a hot chocolate party. You’re invited! And you, and you, and even you too. This Saturday, come over at 7, and we’ll all drink some hot chocolate.
What’s at a hot chocolate party, you say?
Gallons and gallons of it. We have a few Gatorade coolers at our house, the ones that insulate heat or cold; we will fill those up, and then the cooking pots in the pantry. Those will be served with ladles. There will be pitchers too, making their way around. We might go to Target to buy some more containers, if we run out while we are preparing. But there will be hot chocolate abound. We will have as much hot chocolate as our house can hold, and then maybe some more.
Why so much, you ask? Because it is winter, and nothing warms you better in winter than hot chocolate. So you might as well come and get warm among friends. It’ll be jolly and joyful, warm and happy. And because how often do you hear that there is a hot chocolate party happening?
Bring your favorite mug if you wish, but we will supply them too. From bringing it there is nothing stopping you. We will paint some mason jars, some coffee mugs, whatever we can find. As long as it’s filled, it’ll all be fine!
There won’t just be hot chocolate, if that’s what you’re wondering. There will be cookies, marshmallows, all sorts of goodies to nibble. It’s a season of chocolate, so we might as well load up. We will have plenty for you, to fill your heart’s content! We’ll bake all day beforehand, to make sure the evening is well spent. (Yes, there’ll be some additions too, to put in your liquid. Just slip it in, have some sips to taste test, and grin!)
You really should come to our hot chocolate party, you can drink beer any other weekend. It’ll be summer soon, and beers will be the only thing you drink. Cinnamon and peppermint flavored and other drinks will be the main serving for the rest of the month.
So come! Let us enjoy some hot chocolate, and warm ourselves together.
“Your test is not the test,” the teacher said once the time was up and pencils were down. His face was smug as he saw all the students expressions. Some were equally as smug. Some were confused, others were visibly upset. He listened to their complaints for a minute, before holding up his hand. “No, everyone. That doesn’t mean the test was not a waste of time. What matters is not what you produce, but how you present it.”
“So what does that supposed to mean?” asked the bratty student in the third row.
“It means, you have the remaining 20 minutes of class to present your essays to me,” the teacher informed them.
“There’s not enough time to do that!” another complained from the back.
“It doesn’t need to take long,” the teacher smirked. “Just get them on my desk, without leaving your seats, in the next 19 minutes, and you’ll find there are different ways of acing a test than just knowing every answer.” He pursed his lips, sat back and waited for the class to take action. “18 minutes.”
The students began to scramble, each row trying to come up with a different solution. The first row of those he knew were suck ups began yelling for his attention, reading off their essays as rapidly but comprehensively as they could. Others were frantically racking their brains for the best paper plane models they could think of. Some of the jocks sitting to the side looked dumbfoundedly at their papers, unsure of what to do. Their paper was crap, surely the presentation would be crap too.
But one student lounged in his seat in the middle of the crowd, at least until the minute marker had arrived. He had been in eye contact with the teacher the whole time. As minutes became seconds, he crumpled his paper up into a ball and threw it towards the teacher. The teacher caught it, nodded to the student, and allowed the kid to leave before the bell rang.
The other students looked at each other, dumbfounded and embarrassed at themselves for not thinking of it sooner. The teacher, however, was looking over his essay, already knowing the kid was going places.
Short assignment for an organization called Heart Beings positivity site that focuses a wide range of topics within four pillars/themes of relationships, psychology and spirituality, health, and wealth.
The shadow of the Kanohi Dragon passed over the eleven Toa as it flew overhead, deciding whether to continue being a pest or to eliminate the pests below. While it made up its mind, Toa Hagah and Toa Mahri alike were sweating it out in the fiery inferno which raged in the surrounding plains, gripping their tools tightly. Far to the north, a path of destruction loomed in the dragon’s wake, as it used its fiery breath on the land. The Toa were determined to stop the destruction right here, but the battle had been a shaky one—the Kanohi Dragon was a more formidable beast than any Rahi any of them had ever faced, and they wondered if there was any hope of taking it down.
“Behemoth creatures with loads of armor,” Pouks grumbled. “Why did the Great Beings always have a fascination with behemoth creatures with loads of armor?”
“Maybe that can play into our benefit,” Nuparu piped. “We could overheat its systems, perhaps?”
“The dragon thrives on heat,” Norik reminded him. “And under each of those mask scales the Rahi has a ventilation system. Too many vents to try and plug.”
“Whatever we do, we just have to keep it from using its fire,” Hewkii growled as he summoned a boulder to throw the dragon’s way.
“And we can’t let it reach the villages south,” Gaaki reminded them.
“It came from the Great Volcano,” Jaller said. “How are batteries like us supposed to have enough power to suppress something a power plant couldn’t satisfy?”
“Precision,” Kualus answered, firing the tri-bladed staff he carried as the Kanohi Dragon dove towards them. What was intended as a strong stream of frost aimed at the dragon’s underbelly resulted in a thick coating of ice which adhered to its underside, the staff amplifying the Toa of Ice’s elemental abilities. Kualus continued his offense, bombarding the Rahi with ice colder than his Sub-Zero Spear could ever manage. The dragon’s maw opened wide as it roared in pain, fire beginning to conjure in its throat.
A Memorial of Sea Isle’s Bowen Brothers
Author’s Note: An edited version of this article was submitted (and from what I’ve been led to believe) and accepted in a soon to be published edition of American Lifeguard Magazine.
Renowned for their dedication to professional lifeguarding, Joe and Hugh “Hughie” Bowen earned the appropriate title of career lifeguards as they guarded year round. Spending their summers on Sea Isle City, New Jersey’s patrol, and winters on Hollywood, Florida’s lifeguarding staff, they made the job their lives.
Their love of lifeguarding kept them on the beach. The brothers saw it so important to guard the beaches that Joe, a champion swimmer, declined a full scholarship to La Salle College in order to guard all year. Their dedication to the career brought them to captaincy at both patrols— Hughie in Hollywood with Joe as his lieutenant, while Joe became captain in Sea Isle with his brother as lieutenant. This did not exempt them from sitting the stand, however, as they voluntarily sat up educating younger guards for another 20 years; their roles of administration were emphasizing to rookies how to lifeguard well, and how to pass it on correctly.
“Instinct,” Alma Bowen, Joe’s widow, claims was the edge they gained from guarding year round. 1Her favorite memories of her husband and his brother were of when they “…spotted people anywhere, [victims] nobody else spotted. And when you asked them how they knew about that victim, they would just reply ‘instinct’.”
July 11th, 2016 marked the one year anniversary of Joe’s passing, as well as the 97th celebration of Sea Isle’s Beach Patrol formation in 1919. Comrades from the Bowens’ youth once again took up oars and paddle boards, accompanied by the recent generation of guards, as they scattered Joe’s ashes out among the waters of 43rd street.
“Their real criteria was water safety,” Tom Feaster, former bow man for Hughie, claimed they valued. “They were good in not just the boats but also as water watchers.”
Wreaths of Irish flowers loaded in the Van Duynes were tossed out to encircle the ashes, while the paddlers sent the salt water toward the sky, as homage to the former lifeguards. A large portion of the Bowen family watched from the beach as their ancestor was sent back to the ocean in which he so often immersed himself, only this time, to watch as Joe and the sea became one.
“[Joe] always wanted a Viking funeral,” commented Alma. Though the scattering of his ashes was not what Joe may have exactly wanted, she believes he would have understood the limitations the city had.
The crowd at the ceremony did not only pay respect to the Bowen brothers’ life in guarding, but also to the strength of their familial bonds. “The Bowen family represents a model of [what] family [should be],” spoke Bill Handley, captain of Sea Isle’s neighboring patrol Upper Township. Most of those in ceremony’s attendance had been good family friends, keeping close as to emulate the Bowen’s strong family core.
“Safety for our family,” was what Catie and Mason Castle claimed their grandfather Hughie always advocated. They never left the beach when they were younger, so Hughie had impounded into them safety was paramount not just as a lifeguarding trait, but a familial one.
Family is an incredibly strong bond emphasized in lifeguarding. Offspring will take over where their parents once guarded, or younger siblings will guard in their elder’s stead once they come of age. Visitors and first timers to the island and the job have more interactions on and off the stand with strangers they call ‘partner’ than their actual blood, and from those countless hours comes an affection for fellow lifeguards which makes one feel their co-workers are a family away from true family. Captain Handley himself had his daughter, a younger guard at Upper Township, present in order to learn of the importance of family Joe and Hughie displayed. So when blood relations come to work together on Sea Isle’s patrol, as the Bowen brothers did, there is a bond seen with reverence by other guards.
The Bowen brothers legacy, Tom McCann states, “…is public safety. They never had a drowning on their watch. Both of them were trailblazers in their own right. They learned lifeguarding the right way, no matter what other ways were taught.”
Joe and Hughie had guarded in many places and saved lives all over the east coast, but Dr. Joseph Larosa, former Sea Isle City Beach Patrol Hall of Fame Inductee, insisted it was right to have Joe’s ashes scattered in the waters of 43rd street. “They may have spent their winters in Florida,” Dr. Larosa recalled, his words heavy with unspoken memories of the Bowen brothers as he watched his son row out to toss flowers. “But they made their bones in Sea Isle.”
Much time has passed since the Bowens worked in Sea Isle, but their legacy can still be seen today. Despite the many changes in lifeguard culture in the current day, holding public safety beyond all other priorities is memorialized day to day in Sea Isle and all patrols they contributed to.
Author’s Note: Sinister Lost was originally posted on this site in January 2015. The version here, and the chapters it succeeds, is an edited version meant to reflect a major rewrite of the storyline.
Frothy whitecaps rose to touch the sides of the boat as the island drew near, but it was not until Nireta and I walked along the frozen beach that we could admit that we were cold. The wind blew hard at our backs, but the constant motion of the gale kept the cold from settling into our cloaks.
As we walked the icy shores, however, the wind was blocked by the towering mountain The chilling air began to sink into us, seeping through the material and between the cracks and breaks in our armor until we were shaking at our cores. If there was an empty cove beyond the frigid dunes ahead, Nireta and I agreed as we made our way up the beach, then perhaps there was a chance of finding warmth on this desolate isle.