radical ramblings and thoughts of a southern girl
Posted Nov 30, 2011 08:41 PM
“Humankind has not woven the web of life. We are but one thread within it. Whatever we do to the web, we do to ourselves. All things are bound together. All things connect.” ― Chief Seattle
I've wanted to live like a hermit recluse,
stranded on my own little island,
listening to the sound of waves ebbing,
my own little mind games keeping me entertained.
I wonder how long...
how long I'd really be content living this way,
sleeping in my little dark cave,
keeping myself company--I think I'd be pretty damn entertaining---i'm funny even if off color family does not agree----that is until the philosophical games causes a bit of loneliness to settle over the isolation.
It is not my thread to weave,
a loop in a long continuum
that flows back to the beginning
somewhere back in time
at a place a part of us has all been to before
that thing through and around it, around all the little pieces,
all the while
connecting energy flows
fusing us together in a thread that weaves a web throughout time,
Threads connected together,
intermingled and touching
for that is how
life ought to be lived,
jumping even at times
in places of importance.
what happens to you
happens to me
island life might sound nice,
that is not how it works..
all us tiny specks
us tiny little "whos"
living on earth in :whoville:
pull out a thread
my world becomes loose
grab too much of it
strands break from the inequality....
that is what we are
even on days
we had rather be living on our isolated island.
I'll take care of my little piece of the web...
I hope you do too...
Posted Nov 29, 2011 08:06 PM
“Maybe its like you said before, all of us being cracked open. Like each of us starts out as a watertight vessel. And then things happen - these people leave us, or don’t love us, or don’t get us, or we don’t get them, and we lose and fail and hurt one another. And the vessel starts to crack in places. And I mean, yeah once the vessel cracks open, the end becomes inevitable. Once it starts to rain inside the Osprey, it will never be remodeled. But there is all this time between when the cracks start to open up and when we finally fall apart. And its only that time that we see one another, because we see out of ourselves through our cracks and into others through theirs. When did we see each other face to face? Not until you saw into my cracks and I saw into yours. Before that we were just looking at ideas of each other, like looking at your window shade, but never seeing inside. But once the vessel cracks, the light can get in. The light can get out.”― John Green, Paper Towns
< div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">feeling all split open
I don't know why...
don't want to admit why...not out loud for the world to hear
even though it is easy to see
For years I was insulated,
covered by extra layers,
that kept my heart from breaking open,
in a split second
I felt lonely
shed the protective coats,
started to shed
that stuff that kept me at bay
when I did,
there was light,
I felt...really felt..
a tiny prick
in my walled up walls,
things began to crumble
piece by piece
exposing mefor who I really was--sexy hot and all--
no further need to be perfect
or smarter or richer..
that was enough, is enough, will be enough.
split wide open
guts all exposed...
I glanced out
light flowed in
our eyes met...
cracked up folks
staring into each others "realness"
for the first time.
Cracked---just enough---to finally live.
Posted Nov 28, 2011 05:08 AM
" Look. I know what you believe. It is in my soul. But I constantly tell other people: you should be convinced of the authenticity of what you have, but you also must be humble enough to say that we don't know everything. And since we don't know everything, you must accept that another person may believe something else."
I continue to search for an answer to something I cannot fathom.
my old Sunday School Definition always flashes through my mind...
Faith is the substance of things hoped for...the evidence of things not seen.....Hebrews 11:1.
I don't know where it comes from...
who gave it to me...
why it haunts me like a ghost that mocks me...
I some days wish it would go away,
faith that is...
seems to be embedded in the matrix of the make-up of my bones...
these old bones feel
they'd like to dry up...
I want to scream..
"it doesn't work"
as quickly as the thought enters my mind...
I know that is the lie I tell myself...
something deep within myself
"what are you thinking"
I stare at the picture and
what comes to mind is:
"faith...all it has got me is a tear in the heart...much like the leaf above"
that haunting ghost inside my matrix
yells..."don't lie....faith has helped you through the hard time...has saved you from yourself on numerous occasions"...
and I know this to be true...
it has always been the legs underneath me,
the thing I go to when I don't have anything else
the ghost is right
it has saved me..
anyone will know...
sometimesduring the dark night of the soul...
it wraps me,
like a mother wraps and cuddles her beloved child,
it enfolds me...
like a protective womb,
cradles and rocks
brings me back to life as the dark veil tries to pull me down...
I try to uncover the Mystery of it all...
to know and understand how it works...
what to know the chemical make-up of
it's intricate ability to pull me forward...
wish it was in a bottle,
or part of a plug that could be plugged in at a whims notice....
Faith...it pulls me forward,
helps me rise on a cold rainy day,
it enfolds me
even on days
it still shows up
faithfully< div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Hope and Grace
they mix with Her...
no matter what the
somewheredeep inside of me,
the three work together to
cover the nicks created by others
give me the courage to continue to unfold..
regardless of what others
because of it..
I rise from the depths of despair,
from the dark night of the soul,
from the Joy found in the morning...
take another step
Posted Nov 26, 2011 08:28 PM
I made a visit back to the small Western Kentucky town where I grew up to visit my family of origin yesterday.
We drove past rolling hills, dilapidated old barns with their ancient rusted tin roofs falling in, freshly rolled hay balls, cows and thick woods, arriving to a small speck on the planet
where one flashing light at the four way intersection flashes as folks enter and exit.
While there, I danced around ancient memories, both good and bad, tasted dishes of days long past, smelled the freshness of the air where traffic doesn't flow and heard the reminiscent sound of the train blowing it's whistle as it bustled by on the tracks about dusk.
I discovered a yearning inside---to revisit an old familiar place-it called to me from the recesses of somewhere deep inside my aging bones. It's whispers reminded me of lazy childhood days running barefoot, hair blowing in the wind and the smell of dry dirt mixed with sweat of a content child.
We drove to the old home place, where my great grandmother lived next door to my parents first home. The house stood empty on a small tract of land in front of the railroad tracks. It seemed tiny compared to the great space the memories of my childhood held. A fire had caused the roof to begin to cave in and the once shiny hardwood floors were covered by a carpet and trash. I could barely contain myself as I walked toward the front. I crossed a bridge over a ditch and pushed my way through briars and weeds and fallen trees until I reached the front step of the porch. It was much shorter than I remembered and as I pushed my foot up the first step, memories of warm days of sitting there flashed through my mind. I could hear my fatma humming a church song in her nasally way and could almost hear the sound of green beans snapping where we sat during the summer evenings talking, laughing and being.
I stood at the hearth where I used to lie to keep warm during winter evenings when mom and dad would go out to eat or to church or to visit friends. I would lie there, huddled close and watch the coal burn, hear the crack, watch the blues and yellows mix. The fire always fascinated me in a a mystical spiritual call. The mirror over the hearth still showed my reflection. I opened old closet doors, where treasures used to be hidden and I secretly hoped I'd find an old marble or button or some memento of days gone by.
I viewed up at the stairs to the attic where I was never allowed to visit and with a mischievous smile--I felt that kid in me say--go ahead---and the adult tell me--remember the roof has caved in....
I stood in the kitchen where the smell of fatma's cakes would fill there air, the water for her instant coffee would be boiling on the old stove whistling when it warmed. The cabinets once filled with special dishes and plates were still standing but bare. The old sink stood strong, pipes still taped up, little wire rack where she kept her folded aluminum still attached to the bottom cabinet--I felt the urge to steal it.
I gazed out the backdoor---as far as I could go safely--out into the back yard now full of trash and overgrown and unkempt brush.
Memories rushed so vivid I felt as if I experienced them all over again. I felt as if her spirit graced behind me, felt her brush against my back and then it was time to go.
I stood remembering days gone by
and returned to today,
present and thankful....
thankful for a time so full of love, hope, faith and wonder,
thankful for special places in time
for a brief still moment in time to remember.
Happy day to all of you and blessings,
Posted Nov 25, 2011 05:28 AM
"Your work is to discover your world and then with all your heart give yourself to it.”
< div align="center"> The Buddha
light breaking dawn...
quiet intuitive thought...
A time to be..
Life runs at us..
spins, whirls, topples us, sends us sailing.
It fills us, empties us, moves us forward in a progression that feels like we can't control it...
the aging process,
On this morning,
I hear cars rushing by,
hitting store after store,
spending money they don't have,
buying things they don't need.
I used to be that...
can still be it if I allow myself to
get caught in the bustle.
I am thankful for a bit of silence
for quiet solitude
on this morning.
The bustle will begin soon
so for now.
I will just breathe.
May you too,
find a time to witness
the wonder of silence and being
on this day.
Blessings and Hugs
on this Friday morning.
Posted Nov 24, 2011 06:04 AM
goes beyond the "mine" and "thine" and claims the truth that all of life is a pure gift.
In the past I always thought of gratitude as a spontaneous response to the awareness of gifts received, but now I realize that gratitude can also be lived as a discipline. The discipline of gratitude is the explicit effort to acknowledge that all I am and have is given to me as a gift of love, a gift to be celebrated with joy.
I awoke this morning and prepped myself to get up and cook my thanksgiving dishes--Big Daddy has been in the kitchen cooking and eating now for two days. This morning is my turn to use the kitchen. We learned along time ago in our marriage--that we shouldn't use the kitchen at the same time. We get along better that way. So this morning is my turn....
My heart is heavy this morning and I feel a bit guilty at the abundance found in the "off-color family" home.
Not guilty in a bad way, but thankful I suppose I should say...
thankful for Big Daddy, off color daughter and off color son...
thankful for the sweet potatoes i have baking early in the oven this morning, thankful for the warmth in the house on a cool day, thankful for three cars in the drive way--even for my ghetto van..
thankful for the two income family I am privy too...
thankful that my children can go to school--even when they really would rather stay home in bed....many kids in the world are not as blessed.
I can't help but feel the depth of the disparity this morning and feel some guilt that I participate this morning as a "have".....
I read the paper...
millions are losing their homes right here in what we claim to be the greatest country in the world---
food banks and food pantries find their shelves bare as millions resort to standing in line to feed their children....
the jobless rate is at an all time high....
I feel the burden of the world this morning...
think of those mothers and fathers who
can't provide the abundance for their children this morning...
think of folks in homeless shelters,
sleeping under bridges,
sleeping in cars and vans and tiny little campers---sometimes raising their families in tents on the outskirts of town...
Is it Plentiful?
Are the laborers few?---don't think so....the jobs are few as we've sent our work to someplace cheaper where child labor is supported---for some reason we run on the idea of wealth instead of heart these days...
The world is heavy today...
in the midst of the heaviness
I breath out,
look in the kitchen and there stands big daddy in his valentines underwear bent over the dishwasher,
in his house slippers looking sexy as he is unloading the dishes...
Cecil the Devil Dog from the Gates of Hell is standing watch
waiting for Big Daddy to drop a scrap....
the off color kids are cuddled in their own rooms in their own beds
warm and fed....
the light shines..
I am so thankful for this moment in time...
when I celebrate my blessings..
The question I ask myself is---
what can I do to change the world--
to decrease the disparity between my kids and my neighbors,
how do we celebrate diversity and love and abundance in a world
where war continues,
children watch fast food commercials and go to bed hungry...
heavy questions on a day of celebration...
The harvest---it is not plentiful...
so what are we gonna do about it?
hugs and blessings..
i gotta go...got cooking to do....
tomorrow will visit my family of origin and
celebrate once again...
I am blessed.
Count your blessings...big and small...
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Posted Nov 22, 2011 04:46 AM
"We plunged into the cornucopia quivering with desire and the ecstasy of unbridled avarice."- Ralphie in A Christmas Story
This morning I stepped out into the haze of early morning fog,
feeling the coolness of the gentle breeze blowing,
dew dropping off of grass
landing on my toes in a surprise the awoke me from my trance.
In the distant, I heard the sound of a train blowing its' whistle and the rumble of its' early morning travels. It had been years...I mean years, since I heard the sound of the train whistle.
It took me back to days of my childhood when train tracks ran directly behind our home.
I remember laying in bed on sticky summer nights, window open and being startled by the sudden loud whistle. It would always scare me a bit.....you see as a child we went to one of those holy roller charismatic kind of churches that talked of fire and brimstone, the gates of hell and the rapture. I swear every night I heard that train whistle, I was sure, that it was Gabriel blowing his trumpet and I held my eyes shut---scared to look over and make sure my sister was still there---afraid I'd find out that one of those evil thoughts I'd had about her or my brother was going to cause me to miss the proverbial "rapture". This morning, I found myself reminiscing about those days and I caught myself smiling at the thought of how the trains of my childhood were connected to the box of faith in which I was given.
I looked to the sky...
galaxy far beyond what my naked eye could see,
stood at the pivotal bottom of my cornucopia of life
felt the richness and abundance of my life
caught myself smile.
Drops of the freshly fallen rain glistened under hazy sky
that looked like the shimmer of ice on a bright sunny morning.
Just as quickly as I stood
silent in the Universe
worshipping the wonder of Creation,
I came back to earth...
back to the bottom of my cornucopia...
I whispered a silent
I am blessed.
I came inside
dove back into the wonder of my own abundance,
sat on the couch,
thought of how often
in the Christmas story do just that
we plunge into our blessings
quivering with desire
that same greed,
that same craving for more,
we want it all and then some..
On this morning...
under canopy of hazy hope,
was brushed by God's love dew,
felt the embrace of wonder
for the fragment of a moment
I---small tiny speck---
cornucopia of wonder..
home, food, off color family
happiness on most days
for that thing..
that thing called
I dove into the cornucopia
it was good!
blessings to you on this morning
hugs and grace..
Posted Nov 20, 2011 03:10 AM
Eucharisteo< span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: white; color: #7a7a7a; display: inline !important; float: none; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 14px/21px Georgia, Times, serif; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: 2; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;">–Greek. yoo-khar-is-teh’-o. Verb. Definition: 1.To be grateful, to feel thankful. 2. Give thanks
I was privileged to sleep until 7:30 am, which rarely ever happens anymore. My usual time for arising in the morning typically is 04:00 which gives me an hour of quiet time, forty-five minutes for cardio at the gym and time for showering before I begin my day at the place where i earn my living at 7:15ish.
I was thankful for the extra hours of rest on a drizzly Sunday morning.
When I opened the door, the call to worship began. Birds in a distance sang a song I had not heard before and other sounds of the living mixed in with their hymn of adoration. I felt myself smile at the wonder of the sanctuary already at work.
I've been thinking alot about the season. The season of living in the state of thanksgiving and what it means to be thankful for what I have---health, food, home, family, friends, work.....so much but yet so many times I find myself grumpy and going through the motions rather than actually absorbing the wonder of my own life. I'm trying to do better and it was just this week that I learned about the word listed above----Eucharisteo.
Is such a state of living possible?
I've been thinking alot today about the disparity between the haves and the have nots.....
Yesterday---off color daughter and I did something I've never done before---we spent the afternoon visiting and shopping at local Goodwill's. I have a bit of OCD and going into such a place requires alot of energy from me.
I'd been reading alot of blogs lately that talked about all these refurbishing ideas....also since I've lost weight...the "girls" at my place of employment keep telling me I need new scrubs--I didn't want to invest in new ones because i hope to lose a bit more weight, so I thought the "Goodwill" just might do.
Off Color daughter bought several sweaters and a couple of shirts to appease her eclectic taste (one was for what she calls==tacky sweater day==it is bright pink with all kinds of glittery sequins all over in a "beautiful" design---we had laughed about it but when we were checking out an older woman said, "oh that's a beautiful sweater." My eyes just about popped out of my head and off color daughter and I had a great laugh on the way to the car.)
I did find several new pairs of scrubs at the tune of $5/set which was quite the savings. Once we were home--I immediately put everything in the washing machine on hot in case there were any germs or worse we'd carried into our home. Two pair of my scrub pants turned out to be too small---Can you believe it? The Goodwill takes returns---but be sure to keep your receipt. I can't believe I actually bought something from Goodwill--better yet returned something. Exposure therapy for OCD must work---touch her face, touch her eyes---(lines taken from the OCD project).
I watch people alot. There were people who seemed to follow us from one Goodwill to the next. I listened to them---some were buying things to paint and decorate their home with and others were buying clothes for friends...
there were people buying furniture and several different languages going on all at the same time.....quite the cultural experience.
On the way home from one of the last Goodwill's we visited, i glanced out the corner of my eye. Standing on the corner of the intersection stood a woman about my age. She was dressed in sweatshirt and jeans and was holding a sign...."Please help me have a happy holiday for my children". She was drinking a coke from McDonald's, standing there facing the traffic.
I felt the skeptic in me pop out---and though I usually am a fighter for the underdog---I felt myself question what the purpose of the woman standing there really was about.....was she just scamming money or was she really a woman willing to do whatever she needed to do to help her children have a good holiday season. I was in the turning lane and passed her just as quickly as I saw her.
Later last night, I woke up and was reading a blog from a feminist theology site. The minister writing the blog talked about the time she saw a homeless woman on the side of the road holding a sign. I started thinking about the woman standing in front of the RED ROBIN with her sign. She haunted me.
I wondered about her story and about the journey that brought her there at that moment on that corner of the street. i wondered about her family, her children, her life. I wished we were in a world where the disparity between the haves and havenots did not exist---but it does and I felt myself offer a prayer of hope to the Universe on behalf of the woman who caught my eye.
This morning following my call to worship, I went to the gym, which has recently become my place for worshipping on Sunday morning. This morning, while on the elliptical I listened to several podcasts. Today, I listened to preacher, Susan Sparks, from Madison Avenue Baptist Church in New York. Susan is a liberal, educated, ex-lawyer, stand up comedian who delivers a sermon like none I've heard. Today, in one of her sermons, she spoke of visiting Union Square farmer's market. She said, "There was the smell of fresh bread from a local bakery drifting through the air. I followed the smell....It led me to a table covered in loaves of bread, cakes and danish....I stood there and I watched....watched people pass, when suddenly I saw a homeless gentleman pushing his shopping cart. He stopped in front of the table and stood for a moment. Next thing I knew, I saw a clerk behind the table, get a large brown bag and fill it up with all kinds of items. He then moved around the table and approached the homeless man and handed him the bag. The homeless man nodded and took the bag and disappeared into the lively crowd and I stood there saying to myself----i just saw an angel on the corner." (paraphrased from my memory).
Eucharisteo----what does living in this state look like?
Does a woman worrying about her family's next meal, experience it?
Does a homeless man understand it?
Can those of us privileged learn to live into it?
Can we give up a bit of it---a bit of the wealth---to even the playing field--
can we share so that all can experience life in a better way?
I don't have the answers...
to the hard questions of the Universe..
on this rainy Sunday evening...
I send a prayer into the Galaxy on behalf of
mothers and fathers who struggle to feed their children,
for those with no roof over their head,
for those with no bread to eat....
as I do...
it reminds me..
to offer a prayer of thanksgiving
a day filled with unsettling reflection
on the disparity in the world
for a warm shower
goodwill experiences with off color daughter
new freshly washed used scrubs.
May all of you reading tonight,
take a moment
to find and experience a bit of that new word I learned...
and live in a state of Thanksgiving....
blessings and hugs...
Posted Nov 17, 2011 07:08 PM
Celebrate endings - for they precede new beginnings. - Jonathan Lockwood Huie
i am still learning...
learning the process of "celebration".
I have lived my life
going from one project to another,
climbing one ladder rung to the next
there have been very few times,
that I have actually
taken the time
stop and throw some confetti,
dance a jig,
wave some balloons
sing the song
Celebration time...come on....
Celebrations make me uncomfortable
for someone that likes to live in the positive flow of life,
I find that a bit unsettling,
there is an awkwardness
about letting go,
saying....look what i did.....kind of living.
I had some rather dramatic endings in my story this week...
I'm still feeling the ripple effect on my heart from it.
I surrendered a very important aspect of my life this week
I don't feel like celebrating much at all
If I'm honest....
my heart weeps...
weeps for what I could not do
weeps for what the Mystery and I could not accomplish together.
I finally said
I give up
I can't do this anymore
don't want to do this anymore....
I finally....after years of discerning...
left the church
...sent a letter asking that I no longer be part of something I spent the last ten years spinning my wheels trying to be part of....left the process of ordination....
left a piece of what I know I've been called to do...
there is an emptiness...
if I'm honest
I suppose it has been there for sometime...
my heart weeps...
in a sense...
if I believe what I say...
The Creative Mystery is still at work
on my behalf
I lean into that...
I need to take a deep breath,
blow up a balloon or two---
I mean it is Friday after all...
and lean my whole being
sadness and all
the possibility of
Are Endings New Beginnings....
I sure hope so...
go out and celebrate....
blessings and hugs.
Posted Nov 16, 2011 07:05 PM
“Jehovah's Witness are welcomed into my home...You gotta respect anybody who gets all dressed up in Sunday clothes and goes door-to-door on days so hot their high heels sink a half-inch into the pavement. The trick is to do all the talking yourself. Pretty soon, they'll look at their watches and say, 'Speaking of end times, wouldja look at what time it is now!”
― Celia Rivenbark, Bless Your Heart, Tramp: And Other Southern Endearments
In the south, we pride ourselves on our Southern
Hospitality. When people show up at our door, it is common to invite them in, offer them a cold drink or something to eat--we Southerners enjoy good eating. However, in the south if you see a group of people walking down the street with little pamphlets in their hands....well you can bet your ass it is either a group of Jehovah's witness folks out recruiting new members to their church or else, if there are two young men dressed in black trench coats and ties on a sweltering summer day, pushing a bike---well those are the Mormon Missionaries living out their faith. You have to admire them,
they don't wait until you arrive at the church to offer you a bit of their interpretation of the good news of the gospel.
I've been guilty of it and I'm sure others would have to raise their hands as well.....but there are times, I choose not to answer the door if I peep out the window and see a band of what looks like traveling missionaries camped out on my front porch. Every so often, though, be it the 'devil's advocate in me or on a day I really need to talk to an adult, but every once in a while---I answer the door and I do my best to listen and then engage with these folks who must have great faith.....I mean I typically don't go door to door delivering works of the Gospel--so I figure if someone is that passionate about their faith, the "Christian" thing to do is listen or at least take a pamphlet.
A couple of summers ago, I was home alone. It was a hot sweltering summer day....one of those "hotter than Satan sex" kind of days, and the door bell rang. I was running around the house in my wife beater white t-shirt and a pair of
sexy hot bloomers. I ignored the door bell on the first ring.
It kept on ringing....finally I went to the window on the second floor of our house, opened it up and yelled down at a group of about five people standing on my front porch.
"Hey what do y'all need?"
They looked up and said, "we'd like to give you this pamphlet about our church and talk to you a bit about faith."
I yell back...."Well, I'm not dressed this morning. You can leave the pamphlets in the door and I'll read them. If y'all want to come back sometime, I'd be happy to do some theological talking---there is nothing I enjoy more.....Y'all come back now...y' hear."
They leave and I proceed with my usual business of the day.
A couple of days pass and then one day without warning....
the doorbell starts a ringing......
"they were back....bible in hand and pamphlets galore"
It is another hot day and sweat is running down one man's head in little dripping droplets."
I smile and without hesitating,
"hey Y'all are back, why don't you go around to the back yard where we can sit down---I didn't want to invite them in my house----cause I wanted to be in charge of the time---
I'll be right out.
I go to the fridge, pull out some cold bottled water and head down for some good theological discussion.
I'm a bit excited and can feel my brain beginning to race.
We started off sharing a bit and I listened.
Once I started talking about panentheism (look it up if you don't know this word) and my understanding of the Mystery of faith,
well let's just say, they looked kinda like
a group of missionaries who
had suddenly been
invaded by a hungry troop of army ants...
before too long...
really only about five minutes...
the older man in the bunch
kindly thanks me for the water and the seat
"they had to be going".
I invited them back
I love a good discussion
a good theological wrestling match
I love breaking a crack into a nicely formed box
to let the Mystery of God
move into and out of the cracks.
Needless to say...
The Jehovah's witness's have not been back to my
The Pentecostal looking Baptists have come
with their strong men in black suites and
women with hair do's piled high like a beehive.
They didn't stay very long either...
once I prayed for them and
offered them a blessing on the front steps....
i love a good discussion,
enjoy a bit of company,
love being from the South,
if your into missionary work...
come on by
share your story...
As a good southerner...
I'll try not to run you off with my
I promise to offer you
a cool drink of water or diet Pepsi and
a place to sit---
it might be outside but it will be in the shade.
So there you have it...
I ran off the Jehovah's Witness crew...
I hope you have a wonderful night and
a fabulous day.
blessings and hugs....
Posted Nov 15, 2011 08:41 PM
You unlock this door with the key of imagination.
Beyond it is another dimension - a dimension of sound, a dimension of sight, a dimension of mind. You're moving into a land of both shadow and substance, of things and ideas. You've just crossed over into the Twilight Zone.
season 4 and 5 opening narration of Twilight Zone
For the longest time,
I have carried the weight of others on my shoulders,
felt their pain pressing against my heart,
good ole boy and good ole gal roles and games
I waited and I wondered and I tried to carry it all
play their game,
mold myself to the imprint of their
i felt the beast of the burden
the burden of not belonging,
not being a full fledged
spiritually bankrupt and broken
that is what their weight
did for me
I kept waiting...
day after day
year after year
to get their phone call,
feel their embrace
be anointed by their hands....it never came
convienence brought the call.
was too heavy,
my free spirit
tired of the binding effects
tired of the blank stares,
the unanswered prayers,
tired of hurt,
just plain tired of a broken heart.
then one day...
The weight was too much,
self was worth more
I picked the lock
slid it off
dropped the chains that bound me
as the weight of their binding
was let go...
I moved into another dimension
dimension of sight, of sound of mind
crossed into the twilight zone
The Mystery rose to greet me,
laughed and danced
"good to see YOU"
I could breath
I was free...
free to be me...
that was, is, will be
HUGS AND BLESSINGS
Posted Nov 14, 2011 05:13 AM
Is this your last best chance?
Or are you going to your grave with unlived lives in your veins?
said by Justine played by Jennifer Aniston in The Good Girl 2002
it pulses through us
moves through channel like passageways,
energizes chemicals to jumps synapses
empowers us to move,
It pulses on the cusp of each new day...
life that is...
rushes up to us through the vein of our own existence
from where that comes
I don't know
from somewhere back at eternal spring of life
where it all starts
bubbles and pulses and moves and flows
past centuries and years, months, weeks, days.
It moves through us
to share our gifts,
be the goodness,
change the world
a small or large way...pulses in a steady heart beat.....
There is something unique...
flowing,ebbing if you will
inside each of us,
It wants to get out,
free to mix with other goodness,
free to catalyze love and hope and faith....
The choice is ours...
we can keep all that flows...
encapsulated inside us...
take it with us to our grave
send it back to the eternal spring....
we can choose,
to open ourselves to the world,
all that flows inside
to mix and bounce and swirl
change the world
at at time in ways we can't even see.
On this day...
I choose to acknowledge
something pulses through me...
I don't understand it,
it flows through my veins from somewhere...
somewhere I name
there...it wants to get out...
I don't want to take it to my grave....
that is how we change the world...
one vein of existence at a time...so today...I will let it pulse out.....
blessings to you this Monday Morning..
have a great day..
Be a great day...the choice is yours.
Posted Nov 13, 2011 08:26 AM
Warren Schmidt: I know we are all pretty small in the big scheme of things, and I suppose the most you can hope for is to make some kind of difference, but what kind of difference have I made?
What in the world is better because of me?
from the movie: About Schmidt 2002
Last night, Big Daddy decided he would give me a break from all day/ all night football and invited me to watch a movie with him. We perused Netflicks and finally settled upon an older movie starring Jack Nicholson who is one of my favorite actors.
In the movie, Schmidt is an insurance man whose life suddenly changes after retirement. The movie takes us on a journey as Jack transitions through what was into what will be...all the while watching a small relationship form between a child Nudugo who he is sponsoring in a Feed the World project. Turns out I'd seen part of the movie at some point and before it ended...I fell asleep on the couch with Big Daddy. I woke up right at the ending when Jack was struggling with
what his life was really about....
It ended with Jack wrestling with the questions underneath the picture:
Warren Schmidt: I know we are all pretty small in the big scheme of things, and I suppose the most you can hope for is to make some kind of difference, but what kind of difference have I made? What in the world is better because of me?
It is what we all wonder, isn't it?
Does our life matter?
Do we really have the ability to impact the greater world, to even change the world for one tiny person?
I want to believe we can...to believe that everything we do somehow in someway sends out mystical energy into the universe in ripples and ebbs throughout the world---postive electrons that impact the world in a positive fashion. I want to believe that my smiles to strangers---make a difference in their day. I want to believe that those people who are lost and I notice---eases their distress just for the moment. I want to believe that my life..............that my life really matters.
Isn't that what we all want?
or is this just a passion that I was born with rooted deep in the cellular structure of my DNA?
I once thought that I might change the world through avenues of ministry in the church----and I worked really hard at it for a really long time......and now I realize.....ministry is bigger than the church.....bigger than the walls and steeple and people who dress up and go there on Sunday..........Ministry.............fo r me anyway is now more about presence......it is looking at people in the eye...listening...really listening to the tone in their voice, the quiver, the shake of tears or seeing water pool in the corners of their eyes. I stand back...I watch...
everywhere I see pain....hurt...struggle....but yet in the midst of the pain, I hear laughter, see joy, experience celebrations.....................Life.. ..Life is weird............it takes you on journeys and adventures that we sometimes plan and sometimes happenstance or providence moves us down a whole new pathways where grace rises to grab us and faith pulls along toward hope...................and all the while the questions continue to flash in my mind and i wonder...
Do we make a difference?
Does our life really matter?
Can we impact the world?
On this Sunday morning,
in this sacred moment of the day when i sit and reflect,
has my life really made a difference
all I can say is:
I hope so...
for without the difference
life is meaningless.
Have a sacred Sunday...
let me know....
What in the world is better because of you?
I'd love to hear what you think.
Posted Nov 11, 2011 05:31 AM
There is this little song I wrote
I hope you learn it note for note
Like good little children
Don't worry, be happy
Listen to what I say
In your life expect some trouble
But when you worry
You make it double
Don't worry, be happy......
Don't worry don't do it, be happy
Put a smile on your face
Don't bring everybody down like this
Don't worry, it will soon past
Whatever it is
Don't worry, be happy
Once again....Big Daddy makes my post......as you know...you never know what will happen next with him. Several weeks ago, we were sitting on the couch with off color daughter and she started wanting to do some pedicures for her parents----let's just say---I don't have a smiley face painted on my big toe, because when I looked--she'd pretty much removed most of my big toe nail while I was reading and she was clipping. Big Daddy on the other hand.....
let's just say, I've been sleeping and flirting with a man who has been walking around for a month or more with a smiley face painted in blue over a bright red toe nail...
Big Daddy is comfortable in his skin and with his painted toes.
I couldn't resist taking this picture the other day as I walked by him sitting in his reclining spot.
I did overhear Big daddy asking off color daughter to remove the polish a couple of days ago--but evidently she was going to charge him too much to do the task....
so he's been walking around now for a month or so with
toenails that look like........well you can see.
Big Daddy lives withe the Bobby McFerrin attitude...he's helped me live into it more and more as I've experienced the "off color antics" of Big Daddy and off color daughter. Off color son and i are the more reserved in the group.
I was just wondering...
Do any of you blog readers also find yourself sleeping with a man who has toenails as gorgeous as Big Daddy....
if nothing else,
when I look down,
I have to smile
Even if it is .............Big Daddy Style.
Have a Happy Friday
be sure to send me pics of any of you who choose to follow Big Daddy's Fashion Sense...
I wish you all could have seen the glory of the full effects before half the smily had grown off his toe...
Posted Nov 9, 2011 09:03 PM
Let's choose today to quench our thirst for the "good life" we thinks others lead by acknowledging the good that already exists in our lives.
My soul thirsts,
something I once knew..
a cool wetness,
a refreshing awakening.
i walk along,
I feel the sandpaper like feel
deep inside my heart chambers..
I remember the quenching drops I knew in my mother's womb
always supplying all that I needed
cushioning my developing body from
harm. < /em>
I floated there in the midst of that love pool,
Thirst...thirst for that which I once knew.
I longed for it...
still long for it...
search and try to fill it with all kinds of things....
The sun of life,
burns me, scorches me,
I feel as if I might dry up and die...
I hide my face from the rays,
I feel my phyche begin to wither,
I cry out...
out to the Universe...
are you there?
I wither more,
surrender to the liquidy God of the Universe...
and suddenly without rhyme or reason,
in the middle of nightfall,
I feel the midst settle over the surface of my soul
reviving my spirits
tiny drops of love dew
microscopic specks of coolness.
Life continues...< /span>
my spirit perks up
i absorb the coolness
feel my roots begin to seek down,
my leaves begin to spread,
dry parched feeling...
it begins to fade in a way i cannot explain because I really don't understand it. Spiritual water
It comes in all forms and fashions,
rain and sunshine,
smiles and tears,
in a look,
a glimmer into someone else
I was thirsty,
about to give up...
sprinkling me with the wet dust of new beginnings
reviving my soul from what I assumed would be certain death.
On this evening...
I am thankful for
the sound of rain on the roof,
being able to watch the wonder of the wind twirl
the branches in a sacred symphony of harmony.
I was thirsty....
I have been restored.
May you too
the midst of love dew
find your spirit renewed.
blessings and hugs.
Posted Nov 8, 2011 05:36 PM
"No matter what looms ahead, if you can eat today, enjoy the sunlight today, mix good cheer with friends today, enjoy it and bless God for it. Do not look back on happiness -- or dream of it in the future. You are only sure of today; do not let yourself be cheated out of it. "
Henry Ward Beecher
Today, I realized that I'm not twenty anymore. Dammit it sucks! After a wonderful weekend hiking with Big Daddy and enjoying a weekend of solitude,
we returned to our normal routine.
I took one extra vacation day to recoup, do laundry and at least vacuum up the
dog triplets hair that had accumulated while we were away. I promise you that what we got up was enough to knit a black and white hounds tooth doggie coat big enough to clothe a Rottweiler or really fat greyhound.
After doing a few loads of laundry and going to the grocery, I went for a workout with my trainer---it was back day, which was good because I was aching a bit from the hiking we'd done--so I found gratitude that I would not have to be doing lunges. It started off good but then suddenly, that pull I'd been having in my shoulder, shot down to my back and it took my breath. I don't like complaining or being a weenie---well very often that is-I'm so competitive that I try to lift more and more each time--cause I think I'm young in my sexy hot body and want bragging rights about how much I can lift--even if I'm just bragging to myself and off color son.
I finished my workout without much whining and headed home.
I then started messing with the TV and blue ray and got everything out of wack. I had to unplug everything and then start from scratch.......long story short......when I tried to get up...pain made me say a few choice words that I did not learn in seminary or church. The tightness got worse and by nighttime.....this sexy hot mama was walking like an eighty year old woman----and when I sat down....
oh my! I slept sitting on the couch last night and then had to take a sick day today from work due to my pain. The doctor has given me a muscle relaxer and told me to stay away from the gym until after the weekend. I may drive my family crazy---I get what off color daughter calls---"the crazy's"---when I don't get to have my daily workout. This means I'm irritable and more apt to seem like I've not had my crazy meds for the day.
I am sitting on the couch wishing I was back hiking in the quiet solitude and beauty of the mountains or sitting by the rolling steam listening to the crackle of the fire that Big Daddy built.
I'm beginning to feel the muscle relaxers taking over and I'm already starting to dread heading back to work tomorrow...dreading getting back in the same ole routine.
Earlier today, I was trying to get caught up on all my blog reading and an old seminary friend updated her blog about the time I started. She is really funny and full of southern humor. Today's post especially touched me...made me laugh....made me think...
think about life and my off color children and about how I'm alot like her little girl
throwing a fit in the back seat---stuck between the there of the recent vacation and the here of getting home.
Erin goes on to say we spend alot of time......in between....in between here and there.
She is right. I wonder if perhaps...just perhaps....it is in this transitional time that we are best able to hunker down and let our roots rest, drink some spiritual water and grow. The present offers the gift of gaining wisdom from the past, of learning from our mistakes and the wonder of finally realizing that what we thought was going to kill us---didn't---it teaches us about the wonder of grace. In the same tension, the present lets us dream, wonder, analyze and live an imaginary future. The present is often our reality check. It makes us thankful and when we can stay in it...the present that is...we
are able to find a bit of gratitude in whatever comes along---even a pulled muscle at the gym----two years ago, I would not have fit in my sexy hot bikers spandex and I'm sure I would not have even been able to move the weight at all. I've come along way--bad back and all.
I don't like much where I'm at today. I'm having an internal tantrum and Cecil the devil dog from the gates of hell is sitting on his butt begging and barking---I don't have a clue what he wants but I wish he'd stop. My back is tight, my head...my head is getting woozy...and I'm here....here in this moment........stuck between past and future...
even with a bad back----------I'm thankful for this
moment of reflection...
thankful for doctors and muscle relaxers,
thankful for the tree I've been watching down by the Kroger-- turn from orange to the brilliant red of a burning bush.....every time I see it....it reminds me to seek and look for the holy in the ordinary routine of life.....
between past and future...
a good place, a holy place, a growing place.
Here--that's where I am---and it "ain't" too bad.
Go on over and read Erin's post...she's hilarious, a bit off color herself in a southern kind of way and very theologically reflective.
Let her know what you think by leaving a comment or two......
blessings and hugs to all of you........
happy Monday!!! oops...I mean Tuesday!