Archive for the ‘Dignity’ Category

On Turning

Tuesday, May 8th, 2012

 
When I thought about writing this essay, blog, (whatever it turns out to be), I had several real attention grabbing, and very witty, opening lines. (more…)

A Marathon Running through Jerusalem’s Ancient Streets

Saturday, March 17th, 2012

MARATHON RUNNING THROUGH JERUSALEM’S ANCIENT STREETS
 
Times of unrest are hard on all the people of Israel, but Jerusalem is impacted particularly hard, as it depends heavily on tourist visitation for funds, and this income is severely impacted by violence. (more…)

“The Greatest Miracle”

Friday, February 10th, 2012

Jonah Kruvant: Grandma Naomi 95 Birthday
 
My adventure to Costa Rica began when I found a job teaching at the Pan American School, an international bilingual high school outside of San Jose. (more…)

AVÓ

Wednesday, January 4th, 2012

(more…)

A Return to Rosa Parks? Women in Israel must also fight for their place on the bus

Monday, December 19th, 2011

A Return to Rosa Parks? Women in Israel must also fight for their place on the bus.
 
US Secretary of State Hillary Clinton recently commented that the status of Israel as a democracy is in danger, due mostly to its increasingly worrisome treatment of women. (more…)

What is the worth of a woman?

Monday, September 20th, 2010

Image by Evil Cheese Scientist via Flickr

What, I ask you, is the worth of a woman?

Can it be measured against the force of a clock,
stuck into a wall,
ticking against time and perceived accomplishment?

Is it to be given compliments
as to the shape of a body or a countenance that draws glances?

Or is it the longer view,
the sound of her voice
without regard to physicality?

Is it two half moons
she wakes with

each day beneath her chin; yet,

above the mid-point of life?

Is the worth of a woman
to disregard herself?
To take herself lightly
in pieces
in jokes
in half smiles?

Decorum.  How charming.

Or is her weight
something
that can not measured
in present time?

Not the
the deprecation
of her soul nor diminishment of the purity of her heart

Rather,

The unbidden, unguarded

Pure moments

In whispers

Where her soul drops as golden tears upon the ones she loves

Related Articles

On Pinky and Rubicon

Sunday, August 30th, 2009

What it Means to Have a Majority White America Elect a Black President

Can you choose your color today, or must others still do that for you? Can anyone of us with mixed heritage be predominantly called by just one name? More importantly, what does that say about the heritage you choose (or is chosen for you), and the heritage not chosen? It appears to me that regardless of your standing in society, regardless of your accomplishments or natural talents, you still must choose a color – or one will be chosen for you. (more…)

Sit down and shut up: alleged ex-“porn” star forced out of school job

Saturday, December 13th, 2008

Fox News Reports: Ex-Porn Star Quits School Cafeteria Job After Uproar

Let me ask a question.

Actually, I am not asking permission.

I am here to say, what is wrong with us?

Let’s pretend for a moment, there is a lovely woman.

The woman has made her living for some years as an “adult entertainer”. Whatever that means. If she is over 18 and TRULY exercises free will, economy, or pimps or whatever, have not forced her in the role, then………

So let’s pretend, one of the three:

a) she did so with free will; or
b) she did so without choice; or
c) she was forced into same.

Ok.

Now, we meet a woman, a woman, wanting to be who she is in this moment, someone who wants to work at a school, for, forgive me, less than $5,800.00 a year, and now, parents want her out?

Did I miss something?

Is she accused, convicted beyond a reasonable doubt of doing something to innocent children? (btw: all children are innocent).

Is there anyone out here that has spent a moment in Suburbia? How it is always others and not the inhabitants, that have skeletons?

I fear a projection of misconceived issues may be afoot.

I don’t know this woman portrayed in this Fox News article and now being publicly lambasted, but what I don’t see is any allegations as to how this woman treated children.

Really people, can we grow up and give our children a better model for the future?

This is a witch hunt, Salem circa 2008.

Don’t be a part of it.

Namaste my friend, I greet you

Sunday, July 22nd, 2007

How do I meet you, where you want to be met?

How do I speak to you as you want to be spoken to?

How do I hear you as you want to be heard?

Do I need to anticipate your words and thoughts, before I put my own on the page?

I am struck, today as many days, by who will be our next statistics.

Reading the news, I realize, you are removed from me. Are you the heart, the soul, the courage I call to with these words?

Are you who I write to without knowing as I read stories or hear stories in and on the news, more “numbers”, more “statistics”, God forgive me, you are removed from me.

Because today I am ok.

Today I am here, in a country I love, in a place where I am adored, in a world where the best of all dreams have manifested. To me the best of all dreams is what I inhabit, the love of a select few, so pure; yet, not without its moments of impatience. Within and around this world, I have food, a roof, electricity, I have the ability to pay bills. I have feet, legs that carry me to my car to start my day, I have a career, esteemed some would say, but that is not the pivotal signifigance, the pivotal signifigance is that I have and embody, at least to this day, the wherewithal to carry on.

Who would I be without it?

Where would I be?

And despite this awareness of fortune and luck, I read the news, devour the news, surf for different versions of the same story, wanting, panting over the search, the journey for the truth to figure out how it is any of us could treat each other as if we were not part of the “us”.

Can I see a mother in the news grieving, struggling despite the news to carry on, because really, what else is there to do?

I wonder at the ones we mark as misfits as this global world closes into itself, where will they go? Trapped where they are not wanted and don’t belong; yet, marked from exit? And suppose, just suppose, we are wrong in our adjustment of perception, so much so, that we brand the innocent guilty? Can we live with that?

I know, statistics can meter out that the price of a few innocent lives are worth it to capture the maybe guilty ones…but something deep within my heart cries out, screams and says, suppose, just suppose, it was you or I? or a beloved child that we knew, as well as we can know anything, who was and is good, what then?

I have never spent much time on the depth of literature or biblical studies, not that I don’t have degrees, learning or education, it is simply that my mind seemed to discard that which did not ring true with the collective human heart.

I don’t care. I simply don’t care what the Bible has to say, I think the truth for humanity lives within us and resonates so true and so pure from the most beautiful part of our hearts and souls, that truth of that nature is hard to disavow.

I think our society has succumbed, has bowed itself to the inevitability to evolution on an industrial and technological level. Really, I have no better choice, no better solution, I know not what a better world would be for us, I do know this, we are culpable, day after day, in the moment exiting sleep and upon awakening, that is the breath within which we embrace the best version of who we are and we shrug it off, most of us, and don a suit of clothes, to play charades for the better part of our days.

I do not have the one answer, the one path, the signs or the miracles that point the way.

Sometimes though, what doesn’t work, can point the way.

We spend so much time afraid of each other, who has what, who will do what, that we cannot live.

What would happen if 98 percent of the world chose differently? Chose to have a voice and use that voice and live in whatever best version of the Divine we could embody?

Is it really so far fetched?

Isn’t that truly part of what we search for, this life cycle of questions and answers?

Can’t we just accept there are many things we do not know, but despite that, acknowledge there are things we can agree upon to honor each other?

I’m done being a woman…

Monday, July 16th, 2007

That’s it.

Sin-e.

Finished.

Over.

You got that?

Ok, ok, I’m done.  Most of you that step over here quite often are used to me stamping my foot.  Truly though, I wondered today, suppose I said:  That’s it?  I’m done with my role as a woman?

I work, I love, I care, I clean, I keep track of appointments, I blog for God’s sake.  I do and do and do.

Oh, here we go, my evil twin has arrived:  “You think you do so much?  Imagine living without electricity?  Imagine having no food, not just all the food you desire?  Imagine working from sun up to sun down and beyond simply finding enough water for washing?”  Her voice goes on and on.

Yes, I have an evil twin.  Anytime I get tired or want to moan, she shows up, banging at the door.

I may as well let her in…she never stops knocking.

But hey, you out there, have you ever experienced that?  You simply don’t want to be polite, demure, kind, caring, and all the other words that we strive to embody as women?

I want to be the Goddess of Thunder.

Seriously, go read Romancing the Crone’s post on this, you will see what I mean:  Words of an Ancient Goddess.

Confronting Ourselves: Where the Wild Things Are

Sunday, July 15th, 2007

I sat here, for a blessed moment or two, doing nothing but seeing.

I saw that despite my attempts to clean up my shelves, a piece of paper had a mind of its own and somehow became lodged between one shelf and another, in a space which served to highlight it: A Novena to St. Jude.

Now I have always known St. Jude is powerful and clever, but this beats all, quite a funny way of reminding me I owe him a few prayers of gratitude.

I sat again, unwilling to pick up the novena prayer, not quite yet, this is my stillness and prayer to me is active in a way mere thought is not.

I had just stopped working on a memorandum, research, the pursuit of questions without quantifiable answers, but whose answers, when found exonerate or impose liability and to be frank, I was done, I was “still”.

So I continued to stare thinking about a series of email exchanges regarding how much is too much, when does thought and excavating the past liberate us and when does it encumber us?

My eye glanced to a lovely book, an older version: Little Pictures of Japan. And I was drawn to its cover and wanted to jump in and indulge myself in its ability to take the complex and make it simple but I didn’t.

I continued to sit and stare.

My mind became drawn to a book: Where the Wild Things Are, by Maurice Sendak. One of my absolute favorites from childhood.

I stood up, I picked it up, walked back to my chair and sat down.

I love it just as much today: the child on a journey, confronting and meeting his fears, and regarding them unblinking.

Yes. It was the perfect ending to that line of thought if I had not just stepped outside afterward and for the second time today heard a long forgotten song playing from a neighbor’s home which propelled me to view myself remotely as a beautiful and pure child and to want to smother that child with kisses and thank her for her dreams, for her courage to believe, for her vision and to promise her, I would begin to take down the walls that stood in her path.

See Ronnie’s Out of My Head piece:  Where the Wild Things Were

A quiet lesson: promises to yourself

Tuesday, July 3rd, 2007

I would love to take credit for this beautiful, articulate line of thought, but I can’t.  I can say that I have been thinking on and off about the creation of quiet spaces, taking time from work, noise, electronic devices, etc.  What I haven’t truly thought of, at least not comprehensively, is why is it that we can more easily keep promises to others, as opposed to ourself?

Well, thankfully, tobeme did just that today, caused me to stop while reading his post, to ask myself, hey, come on, why do you find it easier to make promises to others, rather than yourself?  I encourage you to jump over and read the post, entitled:  Independence Day Thinking. It is the kind of post, with the type of expression, that creeps up on you and it is easy for you to recognize the universal message to be decent to yourself and honor yourself, and actually, within a few paragraphs, tells you how to do just that.  Amazing.

What I do for myself is to carve out spaces.  In an otherwise hectic day, in a day filled with people looking for resolution while triggered by a desire for conflict, sometimes the best I can do is to carve out a space in my head, to carve an area around myself that is filled with space.  (ok skeptics, maybe it is dark matter).  But I at least allow myself a bumper zone most of the time, and within that zone I have a chance to breath, think, or let thoughts pass by without grading the thoughts with life or death ratings….and just be.  Even if it is for a moment, it allows me to be closer to who I am.

Words to live by: That’s not ok

Friday, June 22nd, 2007

Today, I checked a blog I enjoy:

Romancing the Crone.

She writes a lovely and moving piece about when it is not ok to be a people pleaser and simple authority to grant yourself to stop the destructive cycle of sacrificing self for a less than worthy audience.

“That’s not ok.”

Three simple words to empower dignity.

Copyright © 2009 All Rights Reserved