Author: Rob Weddle
I'm 56 years old (egad), and have lived through not only chronic, debilitating pain and depression (including one suicide attempt), but the first moonwalk, Watergate (lost a lot of sleep over that one in first grade, I can tell ya), the deaths of Elvis, Bon Scott, Kurt Cobain and many others, and, finally the births and deaths of disco, 80s "hair metal" (WOOHOO!) and 90s grunge (BOO). My creative muse has been using his dang ball peen hammer and tap-tap-tapping on the chamber door of my spirit for several months now, begging to slink out of his hole and get some fresh air. Thus, I shall let him out and see what type of damage he can do. Blessings, and glad you're here.
December 5, 2019
Stay Calm — God’s Got This
Don’t you love when WE tell GOD what is and is NOT possible?
December 2, 2019
New Poem: “Somewhere in the Middle”
"Like a rock’n’roll song on an old country fiddle / The truth is lying somewhere in the middle"
December 2, 2019
Lessons from my Drill Sergeant
Drill Sergeant Douglas's words still ring in my head: "Failure doesn't have to define you, Weddle. Learn from it. Assess, adapt and overcome. Never quit."
November 23, 2019
Identify Your Depressors
When I woke up today, my brain, for some bizarre reason, thought of a tongue depressor. "Depressor," I mused. "Now there's a strange word. DEPRESSOR. Something that pushes or holds down." My next thought was, "What are my depressors? What depresses my spirit?"
November 21, 2019
Broken People 