Pamela Jo Bowman

PAMELA JO BOWMAN – MESA ARIZONA — I am somehow less interested in the weight and convolutions of Einstein’s brain than in the near certainty that people of equal talent have lived and died in cotton fields and sweatshops. — Stephen Jay Gould

I am interested in Einstein’s brain AND in the minds of those who worked in the cotton fields and sweatshops. I would like to know what the difference was that motivated one man to have confidence in himself and his talents to change the world of physics while the other who, by his choice or chance of position, did not have the wherewithal to become “an Einstein.”

Granted, there are humans who choose a simpler life. That is what they want. In actuality Einstein could be said to have lived a simple life. He worked, he loved, he thought and he wrote. As a child his parents were concerned that he was simple minded! His sister recalled the frustration of their family at how long he took to respond in conversation. This child hated school and the authority of school masters. His grades were average. And yet he became one of the greatest scientists and a proponent for social justice. What occurred for Einstein that propelled and motivated him to accomplish what he did? How was he able to recognize his talents, develop them to their fullest and use them to better himself and mankind?

I believe fear stops most, if not all, from taking that risk. What if they fail? Later, when they are old in years, I think they realize they have failed anyway … failed for not trying. Am I projecting? You bet! How many years have I justified my inaction with excuses like the children are in their formative years? Dismissed my desire to produce with the thought that they need me? Rationalized by saying that I live in a third world country without libraries and research facilities? Or, one of my personal favorites, I do not want to impose on others’ time or resources? My list goes on and on. In the end it was fear of failing. I justifed half my life away. What is true is that my children did and do need me. They need a mother who shows them that it is okay to be afraid to fail, but even better to take the risk, keep trying and, if necessary, to fail a few times.

Most accept the consequences of their choices because, at some point, what other choice do they have? Another justification! There’s an old saying that it’s never too late. It’s never too late to begin. It is true if you let it be true.

“The man who does things makes mistakes—but he doesn’t make the biggest mistake of all—doing nothing.” … Benjamin Franklin

Before enlightenment chop wood and carry water.
After enlightenment, chop wood and carry water. — Wu Li

Have you ever thought about eternity? I mean, in real time?

Having an 18-year-old in the house for two months before she leaves for college is challenging for me. To support herself in college she is working two jobs(driving my car!). She recently received a scholarship to her college of choice.(After constant nagging from me for her to apply!) And yet she has time to spend at least eight (8!) hours per day with her friends. Somehow, there is no time to clean her room or bathroom, no time to spend time with family, no time to do household chores. What is that? I think she has a warped sense of time. She thinks there will always be time to do what I want and expect her to do. She has eternity to do the things that I think are important.

Graduation thank-you notes. “Don’t worry ’bout it.”
Laundry? “I’ll take care of it later.”
Spend time with her little sister. “She’s always with her little friends.”
Clean your room. “It just gets messy again.”
Put gas in the car. “There’s enough”,

I am beginning to get a better perspective of the point of view of a procrastinator. Some people live this life like they’ll be able too take care of all the details in the next life. They act like avoiding their tasks has no bearing on the quality of THIS life. In the process, these folks let this life slip on by. I want to shout, “People, this is your life!” After going to Africa to produce two films, I had a stunning realization. THIS IS MY LIFE! If I kept waiting for others to live their lives so I could live mine, I was going to lose my life in the process.

Earlier this week, I started to have an odd thought. Does the belief in eternity give us permission to waste our time in this life? After all, eternity is the abundance of time. It is an infinite amount of time to accomplish that which is meant to be learned. I started to wonder, is it unconscious or deliberate? This avoidance or even failure to recognize the value of time. “What’s the rush in this life if I have eternity to learn my life lessons and do the work?” Perhaps, eternity is grounded in the here and now. This moment and all the other moments of this life are what makes a difference in the development of who we are, who we can be eternally.

Some might says that my daughter is living in the moment but that is not the same thing as valuing and taking advantage every moment she has in her life. The path to enlightment is in doing what needs to be done. It is in making sure that clothes and bathrooms are clean and time is spent wisely. It is time for her to chop her own wood and carry her own water. It does not help her if I spend my time doing her chores. So I have stopped doing them. It’s for her own good. And mine.

PAMELA JO BOWMAN – MESA AZ

I love music. As a teenager I was introduced to Dan Fogelberg. His words touched me then and they still touch me today. On my favorite album, Homefree, there are many songs that ring true for me. Today I was reminded of the following haunting melody and stirring words. If you have a moment I recommend listening to it and feel what it means to you.

To The Morning
By Dan Fogelberg

Watching the sun
Watching it come
Watching it come up over the rooftops.

Cloudy and warm
Maybe a storm
You can never quite tell
From the morning.

And it’s going to be a day
There is really no way to say no
To the morning.

Yes it’s going to be a day
There is really nothing left to
Say but
Come on morning.

Waiting for mail
Maybe a tale
From an old friend
Or even a lover.

Sometimes there’s none
But we have fun
Thinking of all who might
Have written.

And maybe there are seasons
And maybe they change
And maybe to love is not so strange.

The sounds of the day
They hurry away
Now they are gone until tomorrow.

When day will break
And you will wake
And you will rake your hands
Across your eyes
And realize

That it’s going to be a day
There is really no way to say no
To the morning.

Yes it’s going to be a day
There is really nothing left to say but
Come on morning.

BY PAMELA JO BOWMAN – MESA, ARIZONA — This morning Wistie received word that three of her close friends were involved in an automobile accident on their way to California. One received head injuries, but is recovering, one is physically fine and is probably on his way home. The third friend will not be coming home. We do not have details as of yet, but details do not seem important right now.

There will be moments in the coming days when she and her friends will think on this event and realize that being young does not exclude you from injury, pain or death. They will understand more because they have experienced more. Another step away from innocence. And they keep moving.

The Fourth of July will always be remembered differently for these young people. Hopefully, as they huddle together to talk and share and cry they will find more then comfort in each other. Hopefully they will recognize how precious every moment is. They will embrace the joy of everyday living and live joyfully.

I share with you moments of my friends on our recent trip to California. Joyful moments when innocence was remembered and cherished and embraced again.

• Newport Beach (lg mov)

• Newport Beach (sm mov)

PAMELA JO BOWMAN – MESA ARIZONA – When I was in second grade I became Batman. My friend, Suzette, with her freckles and mousy brown hair became Robin, my sidekick.

Admittedly, I was obsessed with the TV Series. So one Sunday, driving to my Uncle Don’s for yet another family get together, I visualized putting my ensemble together. And upon arriving home, I did. I started with blue tights, added a black swimsuit bottom, a black leotard and a blue cape. I purchased a black mask and my mother bought me the “Bat Phone.” I was set. I climbed on my “Bat BiCycle” and patrolled the streets with Robin. We cited those we felt were law violators. We became the Caped Crusaders of San Mateo.

It wasn’t enough for us to rule Dublin Street. No, we had to broaden our horizons. After all, didn’t Batman protect the entire city of Gotham? So we approached my second grade teacher, Mrs. Nordstrom, and requested if we could “show and tell” what it was like to be Batman and Robin.

The following Tuesday, we flew into our classroom after lunch. Most of the students stared in shock. Some snickered. I must admit I had a moment when I realized I was standing among my peers in tights and a swim suit. I thought to run away, but I choose to stay and play the part. A few approached us after and asked how we could be so brave and unashamed. I smiled and acted like it was no big deal. After all, I was Pamela Jo aka Batman!!

I seldom wonder whatever happened to that brave, imaginative, young girl. Occasionally, I catch a glimpse of her in my mirror. Her second grade eyes scream at me, “Fly Pamela Jo. Fly.”

BY PAMELA JO BOWMAN – MESA ARIZONA – This poem touches my heart. It always has.

Love’s Mendicant
by Susan Mitchell

What do I want of thee?
No gift of smile or tear
Nor casual company,
But in still speech to me
Only thy heart to hear.

To know another person so intimately so that you can hear their heart is to know yourself so intimately that you can hear your own.

I do want the gift of a smile or a tear. I do want the casual company because then there is at least company. I do want the still speech. Those small moments when looking intently into another’s eyes reveals their soul…and yours. To be so close you can hear a heart beat. How glorious that it could be your own. Equally strong. Equally provocative. Equally valued. What do I want of thee? Me.