Medium, the Message and ME

An introduction and invitation

So, I’ve published a few stories here on Medium.

Medium taps into the brains of the world’s most insightful writers, thinkers, and storytellers to bring you the smartest takes on topics that matter. So whatever your interest, you can always find fresh thinking and unique perspectives.

I love to share my perspectives through stories.

Story: a narrative, either true or fictitious, in prose or verse, designed to interest, amuse or instruct the hearer or reader; tale. ~ From

Why would I do this?- Even when it is a struggle, there is an emotional release if I feel satisfied with my work.

Am I that insightful?- I obviously think so, though I might deny it out of a questionable humility.

Do I get paid?- A little bit so far. See the link at the end about membership. Claps, responses, following, and sharing improve my share of the pie.

Writing is hard.

Every writer here knows the struggle, the pain of trying to coalesce words from ideas from some basic thought that they may have awoken with. Sometimes it comes easy when the muse visits and I can catch what needs to be said. But often there is a darker side of too many ideas wanting to go first or ideas that I am not sure that I want to pursue due to some internal censor that fights to not have the words written.

I have been a writer since I was in my teens off and on throughout my life. I didn’t let anyone know that I was a poet or a “thinker”. Too many “You’ll starve to death!” or “You don’t have enough education to know what you’re saying.” or “You’re just being lazy!” and the fear of such blatant nonconformity “ruining my life” made it impossible to show my thoughts and soul. Ah, yes, those mental tapes are still there even decades later.

And you ask, “Why do you want to do it if it’s so difficult?”

I can only say,

What is the value of art or thought or words?

It’s a question that I’ve pondered all of my life. Why do I see the emotional/soulful communications (in art or words or dance or whatever) of others as more valuable than my own? Why should the work of another be revered and I hold mine in some dark cavern? Am I not good enough? When I have let others glimpse this hidden treasure it has been admired, but I have closed it off like some miserly hoarder who lives on the street and holds their world in a shopping basket or sticks his riches in a tomb where only he can see. Maybe it’s trash and maybe it’s gold. Do I think it will be stolen or that I could be condemned?

The value of words-my words- is that I feel the need to communicate, to share the beauty and interests that abide within and converse with my readers. Whether great or small in effect, I lay my “self” before the audience to see what happens.

There is no safety in creating.

There is the fear of someone finding out that I am totally a sham. That, if I have to work so hard to create, I must be better suited to dig ditches. And maybe, if appreciation is shown, they are just being nice.

Creation can be hard. Just ask your local diety.

So I have entered this with trepidation, but also with hope and faith that I can channel some knowledge and/or beauty onto the page before you.

I’m here and I’m writing.


I have been asked by several people recently about how Medium works. This link might answer the questions.

Poet. Philosopher. A sense of Humor. 60 years ago I rode the winds at the top of a tall cottonwood. Buy me a coffee @

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