5% of the world’s biodiversity (animal and plant life) is in Costa Rica, more than Europe and the United States combined, all in an area of the size of West Virginia. (more…)
5% of the world’s biodiversity (animal and plant life) is in Costa Rica, more than Europe and the United States combined, all in an area of the size of West Virginia. (more…)
A Spanish mother has taken revenge on the man who raped her 13-year-old daughter at knife point by dousing him in gasoline and setting him on fire. He died of his injuries eleven days later in hospital.
(more…)

As I sit at my desk, overlooking an orange orchard and the mountains in the distance with the sea behind me, I wonder if I’m over exaggerating the growing sense of unease and dissatisfaction I feel. (more…)
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
To judge or not to judge? Is that even an appropriate question?
To judge connotes disregarding the flaws, the weakness, the humanity in others.
To not judge, may suggest, to those struggling to survive, allowing others to take advantage.
Is there a bright line rule?
Is it possible to live in the spirit of pure love, whose necessary components are a lack of judgment and forgiveness?
When I think of the word, children, I feel a warmth of hope and love. My mind’s eye visualizes sunshine, light, meadows of flowers, playgrounds, health and wellness. Sadly, as we all know in so many different ways, the greatest treasure of this Earth, children, do not always get to enjoy what I have described.
There are many, many organizations that help children. Many people silently helping children, whether it is a kind smile, a laugh, anonymous donations. The source of helping children is endless, and in so doing, we help ourselves.
Today, I want to feature one Organization, Hagar
Take some time and look at what they have achieved and the stories there are to be shared, through the misery came hope, courage and amazing, amazing heartfelt action.
Peace.
S.E.
Precious, defined conventionally according to Urban Dictionary, in part, as follows:
Something that means more to you than anyone could understand. It’s value and worth can’t be defined and you’d do anything to keep it. Beautiful and delicate.
Now, I understand. Something, someone worth more than can be defined. And that is the courageous young woman protrayed in Sapphire’s novel, Push, and now converted for a major motion picture, “Precious”. Not sure I like the entire definition linked hereto, we here at surface earth don’t like the word “obese”, it seems like a silly definition for those that weigh more than some others.
Regardless, I read the N.Y. Times Magazine article, “The Audacity of Precious“. The article asked if America was ready to hear this story, why, because it is true in many different ways and a large percentage of us walk by with eyes closed? Also, to be noted, a play on President Obama’s “The Audacity of Hope“. (Don’t get us started, at least for the moment, when people, news organizations, refer to our President as “Mr”. Come on, bitter grapes? He holds the highest office, can’t be that hard to address the gentleman as President.).
Is America ready to wake up? That’s what I wonder. I also wonder at my own perpetual sleep. Where was I, when Precious (fictional, but please, so many like her), was battling such odds? Where am I today and where is she?
We can sit and blame, point fingers, watch Fox News and hear supposed intellectuals scream at each other, but what happens as a result? Not much.
Aren’t we all part of the same web, the same consciousness, the same universal heart?
Should not my heart have broken when Precious or a young lady like her character lived through these moments? Should I not have been unable to breath as I was otherwise engaged in my daily living? If so, that would be conscious living, an inability to ignore when others suffer.
I am rambling my friends, but what are we doing? As a society, we should be able to do better at the beginning levels, if we see a child on the outside, jump in. Doesn’t mean we have to have an overreaching arm, it means in our moments involved, we don’t let a child sit in the back, we don’t let other kids in “our group” dis another, we don’t subscribe to it, we don’t breath it, we don’t allow it. In doing so, can’t we weave a safety net and pick up more than we would if our eyes were closed and we sat on our hands?
I had a hard time reading this book, almost put it down several times, but you know what? I struggled with reading the truth, the truth, I was not the one that had to endure living it.
Don’t give me any gods, any religious institutions, any walls or parameters where I can sit and ignore this happens to children who become adults and are ignored by their fellow man. Well not by all, read the book, there are those that ultimately, were not asleep at the wheel, and continue to be awake and pull the load for the rest of us.
May God bless them, and my I someday evolve to have 1/100 of the heart and courage of the young lady portrayed.
I am the glass shattered
On a clear
Winter day
Appearing as ice
On an otherwise
Unbroken surface
I am the dove
Holding her sound
Against
The weight
Of the gray sky

I am the mountain
Beneath the sun
Holding the tendrils
Of winter
To not unleash
My power
Upon the plains
I am the air
You breath
Whether or not
You call me
She
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*image credit: Adobe
I think it’s time for a bit of a rambling post.
Let’s take two different and yet somehow related issues:
1. Streaks of misfortune; and
2. Decision to maybe stop reading/watching any mainstream media.
You may ask, as I did, what could these two things possibly have in common? Well, it’s a long meandering discussion, not quite a conclusion.
Let’s say for instance you believe, on what basis doesn’t matter, that the space around us is becoming choked with negativity. 
The TV signals, the cable signals, the phone signals, the texting, the twitting tweeters, the emails, the blogs, the constant pouring out of media, media, media and advertisement into the vortex which surrounds. Do we really think it is invisible and without effect?
The signals pass by us when we are awake and asleep, passing geographical boundaries drawn on an ever changing map, passing gender boundaries, cultural and religious boundaries also. Passing over, intersecting, overlapping belief systems centuries old. Yet, we only think of it as communication. (What we can’t see, can’t hurt us, right?)
Yet, as I drive down the street, how do I not know that someone’s email transmission is hurtling straight through me and altering my own energetic path?
Whether we agree or don’t agree as to the form of negative thought, emotions, intent, etc., the reality is, negativity exists. If I hurt, I know it is true, because I feel it. If I am angry, I know it is true, because I feel it. If I am negative, I know it is true because I feel it. Yet, I don’t look for proof of it, I don’t require a statistical analysis, I don’t require to hold it in my hand, because I know it to be true.
So also do I know that the information we send through invisible networks is true. It appears on my t.v., it appears on my phone, it appears on my computer. Where then, is the substance?
Where do the moments of grief, sadness, anger, frustration, loss, negativity, the sum total of the mass of those emotions, reside? Do they all get delivered into the inbox? Does only a fraction of the emotion get delivered and part remain with the sender and the other diffused particles scatter catching others unaware, an unintended and unexpected blue moment? (p.s. never understood why we insult the word blue in such a way).
I think we are choking the air around us. When CNN or FoxNews blares, Alert! Alert! Alert! and then you find it is just another piece on Dave Letterman, you have to wonder, what are we receiving? 1. The intention to create sensation; and 2. the hopes and dreams of the staff that created the piece, bringing in their own liFe stories, needs, desires and frustrations; and 3. a willingness to disregard where else we maybe should be heading as society. That is a short list, but I ask you, where does the essence, the energy, of numbers 1, 2 and 3 land?
If I have a day, when the oven starts to malfunction, the washer broke, the windows are leaking and walls disintegrating and then the microwave inexplicitaly begins to smoke, do I say: 1. hmm, guess they are all at their life expectancy; or 2. I’m receiving some bad energy and need to re-balance? (Do we dare mention buying the microwave, bringing it home, only to find out it is defective? No, let’s just skip that for now.)
At the expense of sounding mad, I’m going with #2. There’s too much bad energy being drawn in.
I believe the air around us is becoming dense, the emotions we are flinging into the invisible realm are starting to reflect back, after all, even if we can’t see it, our words are going somewhere, they are disrupting and altering space on their travels, how can we possibly believe otherwise?
I reflected today on that simple phrase: Do No Harm.
I realized it would be a lottery ticket for the human race.
If we were to all adopt that mantra, breath and live it, we could re-balance the world.
I had been driving home from a meeting and was thinking of the state of the world. Thinking about the fact that ‘griping’ does little more than add more negativity (believe me, I can ‘gripe’) and I thought of the pure wisdom in the phrase ‘Do No Harm’. Instant winnings.
I of course digressed, suppose we strove to do the right thing only it turned out to be the wrong thing? Where would we go to find a point of reference? Again my mind turned to the phrase: ‘Do No Harm’.
I’m not trying to be redundant, it is occurring naturally. It is so very, very simple. We don’t have to worry about right or wrong if we follow those three little words.
I sometimes am dragged down, beyond my own bent for believing in the positive, and become saddened at the horrendous things that occur against humans, against animals, against the planet. How naive we can be to think we know much of anything. This whole limitless; yet, maybe self-repeating universe beyond us, what is it that we think we know? Can we truly believe we know anything as we sit and breath and live and laugh and love as even one human being, let alone, one child, goes harmed in the same moment?
I’m not much about division. I think that as I lift the fork to my mouth in celebration of a good meal, there is someone, somewhere, that cannot do the same, and to me, it makes no sense.
I find my comfort today in the words: Do No Harm.
If we all believed and lived this, I think, a lot of the ‘bad’ would take care of itself.
Now there are so many ways we could distort this, I don’t think you have the time or the patience for me to go through the variations, so I leave us with the simple import.
Blessings.
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…)
Senator Edward Kennedy (1932-2009)
[Photo Credit: AP]
In regards to civil rights, health, and the economic well-being of the average American, few elected officials anywhere have accomplished as much. (more…)
Words…

What are words?
I used to believe words were comprised of language, letters, consonants, vowels, pronunciations.
Now I am not so sure.
Are not words pre-formed images, that sometime before adopting, we agree are to be transmitted?
Is not the unfinished painting above a compilation of words?
“Before she became ill, David’s mother would often tell him that stories were alive. They weren’t alive in the way that people were alive, or even dogs or cats. People were alive whether you chose to notice them or not, while dogs tended to make you notice them if they decided that you weren’t paying them enough attention. Cats, meanwhile, were very good at pretending people didn’t exist at all when it suited them, but that was another matter entirely.
Stories were different, though: they came alive in the telling. Without a human voice to read them aloud, or a pair of wide eyes following them by flashlight beneath a blanket, they had no read existence in our world. They were like seeds in the beak of a bird, waiting to fall to earth, or the notes of a song laid out on a sheet, yearning for an instrument to bring their music into being. They lay dormant, hoping for the chance to emerge. Once someone started to read them, they could begin to change. They could take root in the imagination, and transform the reader. Stories wanted to be read, David’s mother would whisper. They needed it. It was the reason they forced themselves from their world into ours. They wanted us to give them life.”
The Book of Lost Things, John Connolly, copyright 2006, p. 3.
$1200 a year.
It’s a lot for some of us.
Suppose some of us could come together and sponsor a child?
We owe it to each other and to the future, to help the young ones. $1200 a year is much too much for many of us, suppose we had a network where 12 of us could come together and give $100 a year? Is it possible?
Imagine how you, I, we, could feel waking up each day knowing we have helped a child that maybe believed they were beyond hope?
Please, leave your comments and thoughts to help the innocent.
Our blessings to you.
The Creative Steps Day Care, a Philadelphia-area day care center, said Thursday, that members of a private swim club the organization had paid to attend, made racist comments about the center’s children to the point of bringing some of the young children to tears. Not to be outdone by its racist members, the swim club then quickly canceled the swimming privileges of all the children – from the day care center! (more…)
In physics, the principle of relativity is the requirement that the laws of physics in the observable world have the same form in all admissible frames of reference.
Now observe this photo of two little girls standing on the balcony of their home in Rafah, Gaza Strip – their observable world.
(more…)
Surface Earth is pleased to be a stop along the way of Ms. Shelley Seale’s virtual book tour.
Imagine for a moment, that you had a chance to be all who you are, not just all you could be and you seized that moment and never let it go. Perhaps then, you would know, what it is to step into not just Ms. Seale’s shoes, but the children, who continue to benefit from her love. Take a moment and reflect on this piece, a short quote from Ms. Seale’s book:
“Our lives begin to end the day we become silent about things that matter.”
–Martin Luther King, Jr.
When have you become silent?
Can you even recall?
I wish I could, I wish I knew that moment so I could reverse it, I just know now, that it did occur and it stayed within me, my human being, but not within my soul. I read the words, the quote, Ms. Seale hand selected, Mr. King’s words: “Our lives begin to end the day we become silent…”.
Begin to end?
Did we always have ourselves slated to end, is that how we became numb?
I can’t be numb any longer. I found Ms. Seale and her work by accident. I then stopped onto her site and was gifted with such charity of spirit, I will remain a fan from that day on.
Ms. Seale is a courageous humanitarian and author. She maintains a website: The Weight of Silence
She has been unrelenting in her efforts to spread the word on the plight of children in India who are homeless or orphaned for a variety of reasons. Her efforts are not exclusive to the children in Indian, her resume details her vast experience and efforts advocating for children also in the United States.
While we could extol her virtues for countless pages, we instead invite you to click on some of the links, read her works, read her blog, see the comments that are posted as she travelled on her journey and continues her journey.
Without further ado, Ms. Seale:
S.E.: How did you begin?
Shelley: I got involved with The Miracle Foundation locally here in Austin in 2004, volunteering for them and sponsoring a child. The Miracle Foundation is a nonprofit that raises money to support children’s homes in India – currently they have 5 homes and are supporting about 700 kids.
After a while Caroline Boudreaux, the organization’s founder, invited me to go to India with her, to meet the kids and work in the orphanage for a week. In March 2005, she and I and a group of about 10 other volunteers arrived for the first time in Choudwar, Orissa. It was such an amazing experience – these children who were beautiful and joyful and gave me complete unconditional love, for nothing more than just showing up. They all had difficult pasts, painful and tragic stories behind their smiling faces, and yet they have developed such a community of peace and sharing and family there. I had never been a part of anything like that.
S.E.: When did it become more than a thought and turn to action?
Shelley: When I began to realize that most of the hundred-plus children living in the orphanage were not there because they were orphans in the true sense of the work, because their parents had died. They had been largely orphaned by poverty – abandoned there or on the streets because their parents were too poor to feed them. I had trouble wrapping my head around that. I started learning the individual stories behind the faces and names, the issues such as child labor, trafficking, disease, gender and caste discrimination that had affected all these kids in ways that interwove together. I saw there was a much bigger picture to this than simple orphaning – and found out that there were 25 million other kids just like them, in just the same circumstances, all over India. They are invisible children because they are largely ignored and don’t have a voice in society or to the world at all. I starting thinking about writing this book, and then began an outline and structure to the book, in the hopes that I could tell their stories and help to give them a strong and powerful voice with which to make themselves heard.
S.E.: How could you tell others how to turn their thoughts to action?
Shelley: I always say to start small, and just do something. I think that often times we all get overwhelmed by the enormity of issues and problems facing humanity as a whole. It’s easy to feel powerless and give up before we even begin. I think that the first step is to really think about, and discover, what it is you are passionate about. It’s hard to stay involved and committed to a cause if you don’t have a true passion for it. For me it’s these children of India, but it doesn’t have to be that for everyone. If I could inspire someone to find their own passion and cause, I would feel rewarded. Figure that out – and then just start small. Maybe make a small donation or do a tiny bit of volunteer work. Even just signing a petition or letting others know about a cause or issue can make a big step. I have been constantly amazed and inspired by how much of a huge impact can be made by enough individuals just taking their own small actions. As Mother Theresa said – If you can’t feed a hundred, then feed just one.
S.E.: How, in these times, when we are all struggling, can we give back?
Shelley: There are plenty of ways. We may not all be able to contribute financially, and at different times such as these difficult economic times, we may be able to donate much less than usual, if at all. But money isn’t the only thing nonprofit organizations need. There are plenty of ways you can give your time by getting involved in supporting a cause through volunteer work – even from your own home. Be creative, and just give of yourself. It doesn’t have to be money. I think you might be amazed at how much comes back to you when you give.
S.E.: How do we not judge, but rather, contribute?
Shelley: I don’t think it’s the role of anyone to tell others how they should solve their own problems. For example, I have been very aware of being a foreigner writing about India and its problems. But my own culture has plenty of its own on which to focus, and so how can judgment come into play, morally? Most of the western world’s knowledge of India’s shortcomings is derived from western media and foreign development agencies, whose goal is often to please donors or people in power – in a word, outsiders. Not Indians themselves. Us outsiders, the humanitarian agencies and foreign aid programs, will always fall short in one important way. We do not and cannot know what is best for India. It is not a matter for us to come and instruct or order; for efforts undertaken in that way, no matter how well intentioned, will always fail in their arrogance. Foreigners rarely fully understand the society they think to “improve,” and the potential for imposing their own cultural bias can result in negative consequences for those whose lives they seek to change. We should come to listen, to learn, to assist where and when asked; and so the goal of this book is simply to allow us to hear what those voices have to say.
S.E.: All the best Shelley.
READ AN EXCERPT OF MS. SHELLEY SEALE’S BOOK: EXCERPT
JOIN THE VIRTUAL TOUR AND PASS ON AND ON AND ON, LET’S KEEP THE NUMBER OF CHILDREN HOMELESS AND ORPHANED FROM GROWING: PASS ON THE LIGHT
JOIN THE GROWING MOVEMENT, BE A PARTICIPANT WITH MS. SEALE ON FACEBOOK
Buy the book
Stop in for the Q & A with author and humanitarian Shelley Seale…..June 22nd; for further updates, check S.E. homepage & humanitarian updates.
Yawn.
Why must we be surprised?
Are we truly that narrow minded?
Were we born with blinders?
FoxNews: Russia says UFO saved Earth, ok, 100 years ago
Update: Churches and the love of God without walls
In the news, at least for some of us that still troll negative publicity, is the story of a Florida priest, sharing love with a woman.
Not a problem right?
Except that he made a ‘promise’ to not engage in certain types of love.
I wish I could condemn him, or his partner, but I can’t. I can say, it is easier that if you can’t uphold a promise you previously made that you graciously excuse yourself from same and explain accordingly. But life as we know it is not conducive to forgiveness.
Let’s pretend for a moment that this young priest came out, went public and said I’m struggling here, I took a vow of celibacy but I have found myself grappling with a whole different dimension of God’s love that I never knew I would need to grapple with, despite same, I’m grappling with it and ask your forgiveness, your understanding, your assistance to learn in which way to progress.
No.
Not possible, because social media really doesn’t allow for this does it?
I could go on and on, but I won’t, I would rather hear from you and ask that you pray for the priest and his loved one to find their way.
Blessings,
S.E.
I went shopping for food. Attempted to pull into space but every time I did, another car pulled through the spot from the other side of the aisle. Ok I thought, let me back up and take another spot. Cars didn’t seem to wait so I gunned it and cut it quick.

Got the shopping done. Very peaceful and went out to car.
Woman starts to yell: “you’re kidding me!”
Cart was against her new or maybe just clean car, (no, not my cart!).
Oooh – she looked like she wanted a fight. I ducked in my dirty car very quickly because you see – I normally park by those little cut outs in the lot where you can load up the car and ditch the shopping cart in a secure area so it won’t be running amok in the lot. Now that’s not to say I’ve never been desperate and haven’t propped the two front wheels into the worn down garden intersection, crossing my fingers, hoping for the best and leaving. But you see the lady that was mad didn’t wheel the cart anywhere secure. She pushed it away from her car and the next lady to pull in had to stop the car, get out and move the car to clear room.
I thought, this is it – its about what we do with the shopping cart and how it affects those that follow.
Life can be just one shopping cart passing hands in good moments or bad but effecting the whole.
If I were to dream but then awake
yet hovered between the two
would it be the time awake
or time asleep
that was more true?
What is justice?
Justice, in simplistic terms, has been described as getting to the root of truth, both sides moving toward uncovering the light. Yet, that is not what occurs, rather, we have individuals, forgetting they have a shared mission, and we wind up with bi-partisan justice.
We offer tonight a quote, and will give you reference to the article, and invite you to not only share this with others, but to share with us your reactions. We hesitate at this moment to pontificate as to our views on this quote, before we hear from you…………….
Justice Texas style: make it end
We point you to a particular quote in the article, as follows:
“In 1998, Judge Keller wrote the opinion rejecting a new trial for Roy Criner, a mentally retarded man convicted of rape and murder, even though DNA tests after his trial showed that it was not his semen in the victim.
“We can’t give new trials to everyone who establishes, after conviction, that they might be innocent,” she later told the television news program “Frontline.” “We would have no finality in the criminal justice system, and finality is important.”
Gov. George W. Bush eventually pardoned Mr. Criner.”
NO FINALITY. I’M SORRY, I MAY JUST BE A BIT CONFUSED, WHY WOULD YOU WANT FALSE FINALITY OF ALLEGED GUILT? DO WE NOT LIVE IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA? INNOCENT UNTIL PROVEN GUILTY? HOW THEN DOES THE ABOVE QUOTE MAKE SENSE:
“We can’t give new trials to everyone who establishes, after conviction, that they might be innocent,”
No, of course not judge, we wouldn’t want to give the benefit of the doubt to innocence would we? Much tidier to just lock up the might be guilty.
Additionally, the article notes the judge is a devout Roman Catholic. Now I ask you, why not make some multi-level comments? Does not the Catholic church decry the protection of innocence?
Today, like most days, I wonder at this matrix we casually refer to as the internet.
It is the “net”, no?
Nets contain, don’t they?
I search for news and find myself circling myself. Whether by the words I use to start the queries or by my inept attempts to hunt, I find myself circular.
The crazy thing about remaining circular is that you may not always realize you are hitting walls, because the walls are soft and bend and seemingly appear to give flexibility to movement.
With that said, I ask you, how often do you step out of the box, out of the circle?
Now I realize, I may not hit the right tags for this post, often I do not tag just to antagonize the Gods, but I may not hit the right ones to hear from a big enough cross-section of YOU.
I wonder how long we will remain as we are, willing participants in someone else’s mode of being?
There is nothing, nothing I can add to this………………enjoy, courtesies of The Wild Pomengrante
How many times do we wish to reinvent ourselves?
To start again?
To be the master, or would it be, the mistress, of the past?
How many times, do we long to stand atop the tallest point, and scream, from our hearts, I meant well?
The snow allows us to begin again,
in unexpected ways.
It blankets our paths,
daring us to set foot again,
and to watch also,
where we step.
Today, the snow has blessed us.
Many of you may have read Shelley Seale’s article, posted a few days ago here, The Weight of Silence….
Now maybe you may take a moment and watch her video on these utterly beautiful innocent souls, and if you do, maybe you will pass it on and on, and stop at her site and buy her book.
It starts now.
Can I hold
The rainbow that I see
Gather it
In clumps
Shoving down to
Mix with the lint
And remains of my day
Within pockets?
If I can’t do that
Feel that
Does it mean
I or would it be,
the
Rainbow,
have failed
Or ceased to exist?
Ms. Shelley Seale, a humanitarian and now guest blogger, shares with us a moving piece on the price and plight of innocence. It is a piece born from the heart. As you approach the end of Ms. Seale’s narrative, she also graciously shares with us general statistics on the day to day societal warfare waged knowingly against children. May peace be with you as you share your moments with Ms. Seale and pass on her moving piece, information and website to all that you know.
With no further introduction…
“The plane started its final descent, and my heart began to race. It was March of 2005, and I had been traveling halfway around the world for nearly two days to volunteer in an orphanage in northeast India, with the Austin-based nonprofit The Miracle Foundation. I had been sponsoring a child who lived there but had never visited the country before, and my stomach tightened as the plane touched down and I waited impatiently for the exit doors to open.
I had never expected to be in India. It wasn’t the exotic beauty that had drawn me. It wasn’t the storied, ancient history of the country or its rich and varied culture. It was not the colors or the spices or the sounds or the spirituality of the place. India is all of these things, to be sure; but they were not what pulled me close, made the place somehow a part of my soul before I had even arrived.
It was the children.
They are everywhere. They fill the streets, the railway stations, the shanty villages. Some scrounge through trash for newspapers, rags or anything they can sell at traffic intersections. Others, often as young as two or three years old, beg. Many of them are homeless, overflowing the orphanages and other institutional homes to live on the streets. Amidst the growing prosperity of India, there is an entire generation of parentless children growing up, often forced into child labor and prostitution – more than twenty-five million in all. They are invisible children, their plight virtually unnoticed by the world, their voices silenced.
And in the small town outside Cuttack, a hundred miles south of Calcutta, one man named Damodar Sahoo had dedicated his life to providing some sort of family for one hundred of these children, assisted by donations and volunteers from the United States. I had no way of knowing just how much they would change my life.
Eleven dazed Americans emerged into piercing sunlight and walked across the tarmac to the small terminal. As we entered Caroline Boudreaux, founder of The Miracle Foundation, was immediately spotted by Damodar – known to all simply as “Papa.” He pulled Caroline into a hug across the metal bars separating the passengers from those waiting for them. He lifted his large, thick 1980s style glasses from the bridge of his nose and dabbed at his eyes with a handkerchief, overcome with joy at seeing his American “daughter” again and the group she had brought along to visit the children he cared for. Alongside him were his wife, two women who worked at the orphanage, and three of the children. As we showed our passports and entered the gate, one by one, the little girls handed us each a bouquet of flowers, kissing their fingers and bending down to touch our feet in a blessing.
The visitors and our luggage were crammed into vehicles and we zoomed down the main road, which was dirt peppered with potholes, narrowly missing bicycles, pedestrians, cows and rickshaws. India was everything I had imagined it would be – only more so. More colors, more noises, more smells, more people, more everything. It was an assault on all the senses at once: The throngs of people, the muddy dirt roads, the constant beep-beep of the horns. The deteriorating buildings, the ragged street vendors, the ramshackle homes for which hut was too grandiose a term. The wonderful and the abject co-existed side by side, for the most part peacefully. There was what everyone, myself included, expected – poverty, ugliness, despair, filth.
But there was also much beauty, in the midst of it all. The warmth and shyness of the people, the colorful saris, the upscale shops next to the vendors, the swaying trees surrounding it all. I was enchanted by a brief glimpse into an ornate Hindu temple, candles glowing and people bowing their heads to the ground in prayer. Beauty was not its own thing to be separated out, sanitized, and kept apart for its own sake. The true measure of beauty lay in its imperfections; to see it, one must embrace it all. India immediately wrapped itself around me and refused to let go.
And in the children beauty seemed to come alive, almost making me believe it was a living entity I could capture in my hands.
Without warning, we lurched around a village corner and turned into the orphanage entrance. In a second the cars had stopped and a hundred children lined around in a semi-circle, waving and chanting "welcome" over and over. I opened the car door and they were all around me, touching my feet in blessing. The children were shy at first, obviously excited but reticent. One little girl, about seven years old, summoned her courage and touched my arm, then grasped my hand. "Hello," she said softly, looking up at me and just as quickly dropping her eyes, giggling. As soon as she did this, the crowd of surrounding children shed their reserve and instantly moved in closer, putting their hands out for me to shake. There was a never-ending supply of hands raised in front of me and I shook them over and over.
I was overwhelmed and unsure what to do, blindly following behind Papa and Caroline as they moved into the ashram. It was almost surreal, and happening so quickly. I didn’t have time to look around or get any sense of where I was in the darkness. There were just the children, all around, and my feet moving forward until we arrived in a courtyard. The children, as one, left our sides and began climbing a staircase in an orderly fashion. We followed with the dozen staff members, removing our shoes at the top of the stairs and entering the prayer room.
The children were already lined up and sitting on rugs on the floor, boys on one side and girls on the other, ages progressively going up toward the back with older kids sitting behind younger. I was handed a small bouquet of red roses and marigolds, and led to a spot on the mats. At the front of the room was an altar holding flowers, small trinkets of devotion, a picture of the guru Sai Baba and a statue of Vishnu, an ancient Hindu god. Tacked to the walls on all sides were pictures of other Hindu gods – Ganesh and Krishna – as well as Jesus, Mary, Mother Theresa and Mohammed. Ceiling fans whirred overhead to stir up the warm air. A staff member lit incense at the altar while another blew a horn softly. The children sat up straighter and ceased any fidgeting or whispering.
Then the prayers began. It started with a simple chant: "Om….om..," the small voices resonating deeply. The chanting gave way to a song, a hundred sweet voices dancing in the air and filling the room. Beside me on the rug sat one of the smallest girls, with glossy black curls and deep dimples. She was sitting lotus-style with her middle fingers and thumbs pressed together on the knees of her yellow and green flowered dress, eyes squinted tightly shut in concentration. Her strong, clear singing distinctly carried to my ears apart from the others. The voice of this three year old rising so pure and true was one of the most powerful sounds I had ever heard.
Soon the singing faded into silence and Papa prayed. He said there were many religions represented and respected in the ashram. “Here, there are Hindus, Christians, Buddhists and Muslims. We pray,” Papa said, “to God and Allah and Jesus and Mohammed. The meaning of life is to love all. The purpose of life is to serve all.”
It was a simple prayer, reminding me that life need not be complicated unless we made it so. A soothing peace palpable in the air filled me, and I breathed out deeply. The past forty hours of travel and little sleep fell away as if they were nothing. There seemed no other world outside this place. As Papa spoke my eyes traveled over the faces all around me. I wondered when each of them had stopped wanting to go home, or if they ever had. As much of a loving community as the ashram seemed, it was not the family that most of the children had once known, distant and ghostly memories for the most part.
Home is a fragile concept – far more delicate than those of us who have always had one can imagine. When a person no longer has a home, when his family is taken from him and he is deprived of everything that was home, then after a while wherever he is becomes home. Slowly, the pieces of memory fade, until this strange new place is not strange anymore; it becomes harder to recall the past life, a long ago family, until one day he realizes he is home.
Post Script: Excerpts provided by Ms. Seal
What to know:
More than 25 million Indian children currently live without homes or families – in orphanages or on the streets, where they are extremely vulnerable to abuse, disease, and being trafficked into labor or the sex trade.
Another 4 million children join their ranks each year.
India is home to the most AIDS orphans of any country in the world – approaching 2 million, and expected to double over the next five years.
By some estimates, as many as 100 million child laborers work in India.
Hundreds of thousands of Indian children go missing each year, kidnapped or trafficked – and three out of four of those are never found.
A poor child in India is three times as likely to die before his fifth birthday as a rich child.
More than two million children themselves die every year from preventable infections for which education and medicine are lacking.
One of every three of the world’s malnourished children lives in India.
Fifty percent of childhood deaths there are attributable to malnutrition or starvation.
How you can help:
The first step is awareness – thank you for reading this article and for caring. You can sponsor a child at Miracle Foundation.
You can make a donation at UNICEF, the leading champion for children worldwide. Be a conscious shopper. Is it really worth getting something a few dollars cheaper if it is made by slave labor or children? Check out The Better World Shopping Guide. You can take action by signing petitions and/or financially supporting organizations that are working worldwide to end child labor. Some of them are: globalmarch.org | endchildlabor.org | earthaction.org
Forgive me
in advance
I know not what I do
at least
in the moment before doing.
I stumble on this path
sometimes realizing
after
what it is
what I have said
what I have done
to hurt you.
i think sometimes
out loud
but on paper
or would that be
the blank canvas of this page?
So often
i let the words
dribble
and run
into my
my moments
not seizing them
not taking them hostage
making them
account for themselves.
Then,
without reason,
i grab a pen
or a keyboard
and make them
make themselves known
to stop
the cycle of words
without
known
consequence.
they now
commit
to ask,
why would I want
to be them?
Heads bowed
backs bent,
against and under
the weight
of
stares
arms draped down
in
anguished leather
of fingers pricked
and worn
under a machine
within dark enclosed space
the only sky
the sound
of
someone counting,
again
and again,
the worth
of
their
breath.
When do secrets stop being secrets?
Is it when we speak them out out loud?
Does it require a certain number to hear or see them to remove the status of secret?
Highlight: postsecrets
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.
Well hello NJ.
Looks like we aren’t sitting quiet with the peace offering of civil unions.
Check it out, there may be movement afoot, allowing others to love as others love.
(yes, I meant to say it that way. why are only alleged heterosexuals “us” and a-hem, “gays”, “homosexuals” or “those that love others of the same ‘sex’”, others?)
Can we just evolve?
Check it out: Reuters………………
EXCERPT………………..!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
“Full marriage is the only way to meet a state constitutional requirement for equality, said the 13-member panel of public officials, clergy, lawyers and same-sex marriage advocates.”
The trees began to curl into themselves
but first
color themselves in the light
of Fall colors.
The edges began to creep,
creep,
and creep further in,
and every time they did,
the Faeries,
would curl up their toes,
closer to their immortal legs,
and hide.
The ledges of time
became smaller,
the space
to hide,
smaller yet,
and the Faeries knew,
there were not too many daylight hours
left to hide.
They unfurled in the night,
becoming themselves,
unbent from the leaves,
from human eyes.
Oh,
how they thanked the darkness for the need
of most,
humans,
to sleep.
They slipped from the leaves,
stretching their limbs,
nimbly alighting hundreds of feet to the ground,
to start the next day’s work
on the century’s task.
they had agreed to.
(more later) (copyright, The Faeries, S.E.)
Are we ever just this one thing?
I think not.
Unless we only evaluate in the space of frozen time.
My girl, my prior header on my previous design blog, she shines; yet, I changed her time and time again. I have photos of her change, all of which I have not posted. it was an expose of moments and I dared to paint and repaint the canvas.
The point is, none of us are ever just one thing, and when we judge others, we freeze them in time. We see an encapsulated moment, while still, perhaps, allowing ourselves evolution.
Ah, so now what, my friends, now what? Shall we move on?
Today
the Earth fell from beneath my feet
but it was not
an unusual occurrence
because yesterday
the same occurred.
I woke,
I stood,
I put my feet upon the ground,
I lifted my arms,
stretched,
and looked to the windows,
where recently,
i hung scraps of cloth,
to obscure the view.
of them,
or me?
It does not matter.
I know there are times,
we belong to no one
but ourselves and God in our heart,
and those moments are
simple
pure
real.
they are the moments,
God willing,
when the rest of the world
stands back
and does
not come through our door uninvited
and we have moments
just for thanks and gratitude
that we are
in those moments ok.
It will be the harrowing moments after
of self realization
CNN or Fox News
where we may doubt our own
definition.
So long as we hold
strong
in the moments in between
we can gather courage
like beans
or seeds
kernals
in a pocket
promising a different now.
Peace to you. We send such loving thoughts your way.
Surface Earth
Why must people be cruel?
Silly,
innocent question,
but it begs an answer.
All of you who spend time here,
bless you,
you grant us miracles,
by your existence and your courage in stopping in,
to say hello,
and give strength.
Welcome CNN Hereos………….I cannot begin to give words to what you do……………for now, I start with this John Legend video.……..spectacular.
CNN reports on the attacks on innocents in India. What would Ghandi say now? I am not making light, I am serious, very, very serious, how can this be true?
It starts, I believe, with the ability to see others as less than ourselves and it morphs to such grand proportions that it becomes something that hits the news and strikes us again and again, in headlines.
None of this should be true, but I have always been one to not spend a lot of time on should, or at least try not to, because should connotes lost time in the past.
I ask tonight for the only thing I can think of: prayer. Ask everyone you know to pray and pray and pray………at least until we can figure out something more swift.
I am probably not unlike you, I see this and say, where is God? where is love?
I could struggle with an intellectual debate on the issues, but that is not helping all of those hurting, shocked, damaged people.
Recently, many issues have come to light with the rights of our fellow human beings.
Rights, I want to say, trampled, but how can they be trampled when such rights have not yet arisen?
There is a lot of coverage as to “equal” marriage or “gay” marriage. I’m not sure the word matters, I know as a lover of words it should, but I find the essence of the issue is one more pure, it is the right to love, so I don’t know what to call the right to love and marry, regardless of sexual orientation.
On a related note, from Vannessa’s corner of the world, she brought up the issue of the right to adopt and how it is curtailed due to sexual orientation.
Dear Ronnie, from Work Coach Cafe, just left an inspiring comment in regard to same and the illustrious words of at least one judge in Florida! See Ronnie’s comment and prior thread.
Onward!
When you live on the edge of the rainbow,
hanging on to the hue,
of purple,
or blue,
the gradation,
may not matter.
When you live on the edge of the rainbow,
it is moments,
seconds,
that define,
you,
your life.
When you live on the edge of the rainbow,
you hold on,
by nail,
by a thread,
by a handful,
if you like the color,
you have grasped.
When you live on the edge of the rainbow,
yours,
hang with you.
In my hand
I hold
the promise of today
which was the breath,
the blink,
of yesterday,
unrealized.
In my hand,
I hold,
the courage,
of a moment,
fingers curled,
ready,
palms warm.
In my hands,
I hold,
the tempo,
of a new tomorrow,
watch my fingers spread,
reaching to the horizon,
refusing to meet,
a dividing line.
In my hands,
I hold,
the spark of hope,
so tiny,
I dare not look,
to see,
if it exists,
but close my eyes,
against the
sand of time,
willing granules
to become affixed,
within my eyelashes,
so short these days.
I will,
the space of time,
to exist,
as I hold it,
in my heart,
and send to you.
Peace.
Surface Earth
Amber Moon writes of how we can make the world a better place. She illustrates how we are graced enough to be able to grasp a moment, or what we might conceive as a small thought or gesture, which can have ripple effects. I imagine the ideas she gives us to help are fibers which eventually weave together with enough action to create a blanket to cover the world in kindness. I am inspired by what she has written.
It just so happens that after reading Amber’s post, I stopped in at the land of Gyspsy Heart, and found a piece on tactile art that she had done and the photos of the children that were blessed by her art. Absolutely amazing. If that is not kindness, than I don’t know how to define the word.
I feel blessed today to have read these posts, to turn around my direction of thinking. Often, as Amber said, the sheer enormity of the things to fix in the world could make us feel there is nothing we can do….ah, how misdirected that is and how empowering to hold on to the belief, that change can be made with each small moment.
Peace & blessings.
I’m Alive,
and I know this,
because I think, I breath, I feel.
I feel.
What is feeling?
What is it to walk through life,
wondering if anyone else knows what you and yours are going through?
Does it matter to daily existence?
I think not, because if it did, there could never be human unkindness.
Peace.
The Resolution, Jack’s Mannequin
Hi there regular readers & friends. For any of you that have any online stores, would you mind jumping over to the Surface Earth Store and giving me your thoughts on design? It’s still in the process of being put together, but would love to hear back from a few or many!
Peace, light & blessings.
Surface Earth
To me, short of love and children, there is nothing sweeter than a book.
I was over wandering at Sanity’s Place and aside from artful conversation I found a lead on a new, fresh author!
Peace, blessings & light to you.
I stood outside and looked up,
I could make out one star that seemed to glow, shine,
more brightly,
to me than any other.
I wondered at its size.
Then I thought,
can it see me?
I consider it a far off pinpoint of light,
yet,
it is a light that I can see.
Can it see me?
A piece of a pinpoint,
on this planet we call Earth,
not shining,
not giving any glow,
to light the vision of the night,
can it see me?
There are times,
most times,
between the spaces,
when we have,
I believe,
moments of gratitude,
singing,
in the open spaces
of amphitheaters
designed and built
both long before and after our time.
There are times,
I think,
perhaps,
within the moments,
yes, not in the spaces in between,
when our hearts swell,
and we know,
if we could only bag up and box,
the love before us,
there would not be one more thing we need to accomplish.
Have I shared with you,
the smile,
on a child’s face,
when they turn at you,
unexpectedly?
Have I shared with you,
the millions of times,
within my home,
we say,
I love you?
not to get something back,
but because it is.
Have I shared with you,
my mortal fears?
the understanding,
that our rights to love,
as humans
are fragile.
They are…..
parceled,
not by our decree, but by,
the whims,
ambitions,
egos of others.
I do not blame them.
Because to do so,
is to blame them,
for not having been loved,
this way,
the way that is beyond denial,
for those within its circle of warmth.
I wish for you today,
a better moment,
a better today, to build,
an even better tomorrow.
I wish that we,
as humanity,
would not let,
our brothers and sisters fail,
not now,
not ever,
but lift them up,
within our arms of collective consciousness.
Every child gone wrong,
every adult,
with a finger pointed at him or her,
is still the child,
no I don’t mean,
we excuse behavior that hurts one another,
i mean,
we raise a village,
we stop it before it begins,
Ubuntu.
Peace to you today.
let us know what we can do,
if you don’t,
well,
we will wish you had.
How to begin?
Sanity Found gave us a remarkable tribute, and within same, Amber Moon, made reference to the guide written on her blog, simple thoughts on Ubuntu.
Perhaps the only fair way to begin is to show you, our introduction to the word Ubuntu did not begin that long ago. In June of 2007, Surface Earth posted a piece on Ubuntu. It was an introduction, a recognition, that this word was new to us.
Back to the present, we were asked to share our vision, our experience of Ubuntu:
We would like to extend our congratulations to Surface Earth. Thank you for your beautiful words and spirit. You will be a fine addition to our Ubuntu team. With this nomination you can choose or not to post our Ubuntu badge on your blog, but we do ask that you post a blog post article about what Ubuntu means to you in return.
First, Ubuntu to us means an all encompassing love. It means love which has no division, no boundaries, it is the recognition that as the water feeds through the channels of the land, it is not divided, but of the same whole.
Stop.
Ubuntu means exactly what what was given and shared today, an expression of humanity, a lack of being afraid to stand on Humanity’s Team, to recognize ourselves in another or others. And that is what occurred today. I stand now, in the distant light, rays, of pure love that have come from people I don’t know, people that have no agenda other than to raise up their fellow man or woman or human or whatever we want to call ourselves. This purity of spirit reached into my day, humbling me, asking, what more, what more, what more can be done? Done, I mean, to keep this up, to keep up this compassionate web of caring, for all of you to feel as I do right now, full of belief in the love and goodness of my fellow people.
This is first draft gang, i’m sure I’ll be back to write some more, but I can only write from the heart, the editing skills come from my very loud ego, and I’m ok with silencing that loud partner.
Namaste. May you be good to others.
Bizzare, right?
How could they possibly be related?
Well, maybe falling through the Rabbit Hole.
For now, I say, because I saw Flash of Genius today and cried. I cried for so many reasons. I cried because I am an attorney and I know I have advocated to settle because litigation costs would be insurmountable for my client. I cry because i witnessed how a good man, watched his marriage and family get destroyed, because others refused to acknowledge truth.
But before I cried watching Flash of Genius i cried because I saw previews for The Changeling. Am I confused? Because I posted some time ago about a book, The Stolen Child, and because of my love for Irish history, my love of the lore of the Faeries, I felt The Stolen Child was important. But the book itself humbled me to believe I knew what was important and what was not.
So I sat, waiting for Flash of Genius to begin, and had a preview to The Changeling which, if you have read, the Stolen Child, or perhaps other works, it would not be a bizarre topic for you. If you have lived untruths forced upon you by what you believed to be law abiding, good people of society, and have been harmed because of it, then you also know what i mean.
What it means is the disillusion of truth. Those in power preying over the good that live in truth. And it bothers me on deeper levels because my Grandfather was an executive of Ford. But i can only pray, he would not have done this to that man and his family. He is passed now, so I may have to wait to ask. On another level it bothered me deeply because I am an attorney and was disgusted by what I saw in regard to the attorneys on behalf of Ford. I spoke to Mary during that film and said please, please don’t let me be them. But I’m judging now, aren’t I? Ugh.
I cried. Just in the previews, I cried. And they also had to slam us with The Soloist, let’s save that discussion for another day.
All I can say is, truth resides within, if you cannot follow your own good heart, there is no sense looking to others.
Man is distorted, I don’t know why, it makes no sense to me individually, I’d rather let the guy who cuts me of pass safely than curse him out. But, I’m going to suffer myself, and watch The Changeling, knowing it is true and it exists today, knowing that to speak out, is often to condemn ourselves and those we love.
But, what, I ask you, because I no longer know, is,what is the point of silence?
May God and your heart guide you. May God not be what institutions teach you, rather, may God only be what resonates when the soul and heart meet.
I pray for you.
Surface Earth
I can’t decide on the title, I could write three thousand more headings.
Here it is, I need to share this with you,
we live in the year,
2008.
(You sure this is not 1978????)
Did you know that?
And in 2008 it sometimes seems we have learned nothing.
We have become the arbiter of what is acceptable within the beds of consenting adults. We have chosen to focus on a very small area: whether people of the same sex are allowed to love each other.
Yes, you heard that right. What we are talking about is ability of people to be allowed to FREELY EXPRESS LOVE TO ONE ANOTHER.
Let’s repeat that: FREEDOM TO LOVE.
Now I’m not patronizing you, I repeat this to drill it into my own head that it could actually be true that God loving heterosexual human beings think they have the right to determine the course of love for the rest of the world. (Oh, did I mention? I’m God Loving and a monogamous, loving heterosexual. Aren’t I lucky? Arent’ I special? Guess God must have chosen me.)
The point is, educated, allegedly loving individuals, citizens of the most free of societies, or so they herald, are actually, yes, seriously, contemplating to amend the Florida constitution to tell people, to mandate, to enact into law a prohibition against love.
Yes, that is what we are talking about, prohibiting love.
No God I have ever believed in ever considered that a possibility, two rules, remember, the essence? Love God and Love your neighbor.
Whew. Sorry, I’m pretty upset.
I want to know where the exit door is from this Society gone mad. No, I don’t mean checking out, I mean escaping from the collective illusion.
Here, let me tell you what’s going on. Received, via another, yes, my allowed and legal love, an email, copied below for you to read and digest:
“Dear all – yes this is a direct appeal for money to help a worthy cause. It is sad that we have to spend good resources to fight for basic human rights in the US in 2008.
A worthy cause – run by a good friend I’ve known for several years. Please help!
Kind regards,”
*****
Begin forwarded message:
From: ******
Date: 1 October 2008 9:15:31 AM
To: ********
Subject: Hello from Florida
Dear Friends,
I’ll be right up-front about this - this is an appeal for $$$. (No, not for me.)
I hope you know I wouldn’t be asking if it wasn’t important. Please read on and I will explain why.
There is a poisonous amendment to the Florida Constitution on the ballot this November known as Amendment 2 – the so-called “Marriage Protection” Amendment.
Yes, they’re at it again. The right wing is using fear of gay people to try to win another election. But they may have over reached this time. They claim it’s about “gay marriage” but Florida already has multiple laws banning same-sex marriage. What they’re really after is engraving discrimination into the Florida Constitution and the elimination of domestic partnership rights and benefits which are offered by several counties (e.g. Miami-Dade, Broward, Palm Beach), municipalities and employers (think Disney) here in Florida.
The good news is that to amend the Florida Constitution the proponents need a vote of 60% + 1 to win and we need 40% +1 to send it to the trash bin where it belongs. Polls show both sides are within 2% of the magic number. We have seen that once we explain the negative consequences to all Florida unmarried couples, especially seniors who would be forced to choose between sharing health care and receiving government benefits, our numbers go up. The key to our victory will be in getting the word out to as many people as possible. That’s where you come in.
Florida Red and Blue, the group I have been working for since July, was formed solely to defeat this amendment. As many of you know I have worked on a few campaigns in the past and I must say I am impressed with the sophistication of Florida Red and Blue. We are using all the latest tools to fight this battle. Included in our arsenal are TV ads which are already “in the can” and have been tested with focus groups with off-the-charts positive results. The reason the ads are so effective is they tell real stories of real people and how they would be affected if Amendment 2 passes. The TV time has been booked and all that remains is the money to run the ads. All our other expenses and overhead are covered from now until Nov. 4 so every dime we raise from now on will go directly to getting these ads on the air.
Please help with a contribution of whatever you can afford, It’s easy; just go to our web site www.SayNo2.com or send a check to Florida Red and Blue 12864 Biscayne Blvd., Suite 314 North Miami, FL 33181. There are just 5 weeks left until the election so the need is urgent and immediate.
If this amendment is defeated here in Florida it will send shock waves across the country. The Republicans have used this tool in the past (remember Ohio 2004) and they will keep using it until it no longer works. If we can stop them here it will be a real turning point. But most importantly we will preserve the limited rights and benefits available under domestic partnerships for all unmarried Florida couples and keep the government out of the private lives of individuals and families. When government tries to make these kinds of decisions we end up with travesties like the Terry Schiavo case.
Thanks for your help. I know there are many demands on us all these days so it’s important to choose where our dollars will have the most impact and do the most good. Beating Amendment 2 in Florida is one of those places. [-------] And for more information on the amendment, go to www.SayNo2.com. There you can read articles,view videos, make a contribution and find a list of our supporters like Barack Obama, Hillary Clinton, Patricia Ireland, NOW, the NAACP, AFL-CIO, etc.
Thank you most sincerely for your support,
******
PS – if you have any friends in Florida make sure they know to vote No on Amendment 2. You’d be surprised how many people don’t know about this with all the attention going to the presidential race.”
UPDATE: WE HAVE RECEIVD PERMISSION TO POST THE AUTHOR’S CONTACT INFORMATION FOR THE ABOVE QUOTED EMAIL:
(954) 734-0171
SO THAT’S IT FOLKS.
A CHANCE TO ACT FROM THE SOUL, TO ACT FROM OUR HEARTS.
DOESN’T SEEM THAT DIFFICULT, DOES IT?
PEACE AND NAMASTE.
surface earth photos, copyright – 2008
A rose by any other name…………………………………
-surface earth, copyright 2008
GRRRRR, OUR SURFACE EARTH DESIGN, SHE IS READY, BOOTS ON………………….
YOURS,
SURFACE EARTH
my night ended, looking at flowers still opened,
just one above,
how funny,
it looks of the day.
My day started,
early,
and in one point
of that early transition,
i had a moment of grace,
i saw for some reason,
a small fleck of color,
perhaps,
i would have thought a weed,
in another given moment,
but i stopped,
crouched down and looked
at the color curled into itself,
i asked my child,
with me,
at the time,
come here,
see this color,
and the flower opened,
seen as I did,
below,
perhaps the camera quality cannot give you the sensation,
we saw,
in the early hours.
Boston Herald presents on the sighting of the image of Mother Mary
Seems like she made a stop in Springfield. M.A.
****Hey CordieB’s comment just made me update this, almost included it to begin with but didn’t, Mother Mary Come to Me………………..
[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GQNpEET9WqQ&rel=0&color1=0x2b405b&color2=0x6b8ab6&border=0]
I looked in this article for a contact to reach out and could not find one. Perhaps one of you will see what I could not. Maybe it’s as simple as writing to the reporter who covered the story.
Another thought came to me, she reportedly lives in Vista, California. There must be a family near there that can donate clothes an older boy has grown out of or a group that can share meals. There must be ways we can still reach out and help one another, even when most of us no longer have enough money, let alone “extra” money.
***UPDATE: AS OF 10/4/08, WE ARE TRYING TO OBTAIN THE EMAIL ADDRESS FOR THE CNN REPORTER, WE CALLED A FEW DIFFERENT NUMBERS TO TRACK HIM, WE HOPE DURING REGULAR OPERATING HOURS BEGINNING MONDAY, WE CAN TRACK HIM DOWN AND HE CAN HELP US FACILITATE WAYS TO DONATE TO THE FAMILY HE HIGHLIGHTED IN NEED.
STAY TUNED. WE WILL APPRISE AS SOON AS WE KNOW. PEACE TO YOU.
In a nutshell,
what truly would fit?
Is there something I can share,
impart,
that you yourself,
have not thought of?
Yes,
grammar is but a tool
to help bridge the gap
in communication,
and I will flout
those rules here.
Yesterday,
did it matter,
how your hair looked?
what car you drove?
who said what about you?
If so,
you live,
still,
within,
what I would call,
a bubble,
a protected, lovely bubble,
that is no different,
than an oxygen tank.
There is a limit.
I don’t mean to bring you down,
and in fact,
I believe the great deal of you that visit
more than once
know that automatically.
What I am trying to impart,
is that,
life,
is but a knock away.
For some of us,
it can be a knock that resounds as a winning lottery ticket,
or the sense of doom,
before the knuckles fall,
but it is fallible
and ever present
unless
we
decide
otherwise.
If I am rooted in faith,
external conditions,
well,
they can try,
can’t they?
But then,
isn’t it up to me,
as to how,
insidious,
they become?
**May you be blessed and protected today. Namaste.
-Surface Earth
There is nothing I can add to what Sorrow has said in her post: It matters.
I invite you to go back and read her post again and then spread the word of her Labryinth shop, the shop is selling love and generosity to help others. Go take a peek.
Dear Ones:
We are not in a point of life where we can give money to those in need. What we can do is invite you here, place your needs or petitions, if you want by location, in case of local help, but that is your choice entirely.
We will try to turn your email or comment requests into posts and some day a workable map-type web where people within localities can help each other and we can truly live a human community.
Pass this around. All are welcome. Evidently, we cannot vouch for the requests we will receive, we just ask you be guided by your heart.
I need to believe for a moment,
that I,
you,
we,
are in the future.
We are looking back,
reading a textbook,
when humans
actually employed the use of tanks, planes and guns,
I need to believe,
in the future,
as I read the text book,
that I am compelled to look up the word:
I need to understand,
the fine line,
between,
expendable humans
and non-expendable humans.
I apologize.
I cannot find a 2008 defintion of same.
I need to understand,
how it can be anyone’s solution,
to put children in harm.
I digress.
Yet, I don’t,
it is all interconnected.
I ask,
perhaps,
what is your view,
do you not feel we should be beyond the “need” for violence
to resolve our
human dilemna?
Peace.
May we all take five minutes today to pray for same.
Sometime ago, Enreal tagged me here for a “tag”, “link”, I am never quite sure of the “nomenclature”, for a series of shared favorite quotes.
I thought, and I thought and I thought. And I realized, the quotes I like best are the ones that happen spontanouesly in the day, the ones, most often born of innocence, out of the mouths of babes they say. I continued to think. Then, the other night, I received an email from a group I read and there they were, three beautiful, pristine quotes and I knew those are the ones I wanted to share.
Enreal, thank you for keeping me thinking. Without further ado………..
“When the doors of perception are cleansed, man will see things as they truly are, infinitie.”
-William Blake
“We count our miseries carefully, and accept our blessings without much thought.”
-Chinese Proverb
“When we settle into the present moment, we can see beauties and wonders right before our eyes…”.
-Thich Nhat Hanh
—-Blessings
I have to believe
I gotta believe
I do believe.
In bigger, and better, and all encompassing.
I believe,
you and I,
have taken a turn being each other,
and only,
turn away,
because of the recognition of pain.
I salute,
the quiet dignity,
as a woman,
in worshipping in a belief in Islam,
quietly,
turned,
five times a day.
I believe,
in the repetition,
of the Catholic prayers,
and rejoice,
in the Catholic,
yes,
the ones,
on the wild,
holy rolling,
healing masses,
singing free.
I believe,
in the coverings,
of the women,
I have known,
and have seen,
of Jewish faith,
yes,
covered,
and not so much,
some mainstream,
perhaps,
in belief.
I believe,
in the Celts,
that danced,
under the full moon,
while still worshipping the sun.
I believe,
in the way,
my heart,
my soul,
soars on its own,
with the beauty,
of full blown
gospel singing.
It
is
not just belief,
it is knowing,
certainty,
being,
ok,
with embracing the unknown.
This I share with you.
Knowing,
I could as easily,
ask to be part of a Gospel Church,
as a Roman Catholic,
I could ask to be divided,
on the side of a curtain,
covering my head,
my arms,
past my knees,
I could ask,
to be fully wrapped,
yet,
embracing a God,
within me,
as I bow,
scraping myself upon the ground,
not in subjection,
but in praise,
and in hope, and in love.
I ask us to remember tonight,
the words brothers and sisters,
have no
racial,
cultural,
geographic,
political,
familial,
nor economic bounds
It is simply,
the divine within,
willing to see,
the divine
within others,
the ever flowing love.
Once seen,
never forgotten.
Peace be unto you.
Come along to the new page: Take Back America
Jon in on the flow of discussion for a full today and the today’s to follow.
I want to post something simple today.
Thanks and gratitude for my life.
This is a simple post in many ways, but I want to share, I begin…
I give thanks for the ability to receive love.
I give thanks for the ability to understand love.
I give thanks, for each part of my body, my mortal shell, that operates at its best efficiency.
I give thanks, for the numerous markets near me, to pick and choose, what shall land on my family’s plate.
I give thanks, that I can share my earnings to other family, beyond my immediate circle.
I give thanks, for the state of mind, that allows me to keep earning.
I give thanks for the ability to walk out the door, go to a store, and buy essentials that make my life easier.
I give thanks for the ability to smile in the face of adverse circumstances.
I give thanks to remember that I smiled in just such circumstances.
I give thanks for the ability to use my fingers to play across this keyboard.
I give thanks that I can stand, sit, dwell, hear and ask to pray for those that are without hope.
I give thanks that I live and was born within a county that does not stone people for adultery.
I give thanks that I can stop here and ask all of you to use the power of word and the power of prayer to hope, that only God, and not practicing mortals, decides the fate of the nine in Iran sentenced to die by stoning for alleged adultery.
I give thanks that I have the courage to ask you to stop what you are doing and send a positive prayer to the universe to save those people, our brother and sisters.
I give thanks that someday we become united again, outside the dictates of society.
I give thanks that you took a moment of your day to stop in.
Peace to you.
S.E.
I feel like writing tonight. Not sure what will land here, but I felt like sharing, or would it be, unburdening?
I have had some really interesting dreams lately, the angels teaching me about pieces of rainbows and how to turn them to heal.
A repetitive dream about escaping from one world to the next, sneaking out through a porthole, that forgive me, was I believe a toilet bowel, the deal was, I had to have faith, dive in and let myself be flushed away. The thing is, my consciousness, and my self, however you define it, came out from the other side. And then it happened again and again and again until I awoke near 5 and say ok, enough of that, bring me back to the rainbows.
The rainbows are fast and furious in my mind. If you go back to the beginning of many of my posts, there was a desperate, desperate search…I needed, wanted, demanded the answers. Could that be the lawyer in me? And then, it stopped, and it stopped, without my doing, by the immersion in silence and in nature. Now, I’m not telling you I had to be in the middle of the woods, I could have been on a busy street, on a stoop, lucky enough to have a pot of geraniums at my side, but I needed to be. And I found I could not “be” in the continuous cycle of putting on a face. Whoever that other is, that seeks to say, hey, hey – aren’t I cool, aren’t I loveable? Let me show you, you will see. Well, she went somewhere else, age, you ask? Perhaps. And if so, blessings.
The point being, there is a quiet solitutude that has nothing to do with loneliness. That may be because I am fortunate enough to be withn reservoirs of love, or is that because, becoming aware, I stepped within reservoirs of love and decided to stay put?
That’s it. Sin-e.
Best of blessings, peace, wholeness, and undoubtedly, self-healing to you. Faith can move a mountain. I have always had a problem with it, until I got out of my own way, and realized it was true.
Live from the heart.
Live honest to you.
You’ll be ok.
Peace.
Where do we begin when we sit separate; yet, never apart
in this Divine Matrix
of energy?
I wonder at times,
why I write here,
and then wonder again,
why not?
I share with you to night, a small sliver from a beautiful, beautiful book:
(an excerpt of an excerpt)
Poem by Phillip Lopate
We who are
your closest friends
feel the time
has come to tell you
that every Thursday
we have been meeting,
as a group,
to devise ways
to keep you
in perpetual uncertainty
frustration
discontent and
torture
by neither lovng you
as much as you want
nor cuttng you adrift.
Your analyst is
in on it,
plus your boyfriend
and your ex-husband;
and we have pledged
to disappoint you
as long as you need us.
In annoucing our
association
we realize we have
placed in our hands
a possible antidote
against uncertainty
indeed against ourselves.
But since our Thursday nights
have brought us
to a community
of purpose
rare in itself
with your as
the natural center,
we feel hopeful you
will continue to make unreasonable
demands for affection
if not as a consequence
of your disastrous personality
then for the good of the collective.
For the absolute beautiful narrative leading up to and including this piece, pick up and read:
Anne Lamott
“Bird by Bird, Some Instructions on Writing and Life.”
Peace to you.
What is the story that you have not told?
Is there only one?
Is it the story that creeps upon you in the darkest part of the night,
or the one,
in the full light of the Sun,
that glares at you,
on your way to work,
daring you to deceive it?
Do you have a story untold?
One that would free your heart,
if only,
for a moment,
you were the breath
of air
that lit
the
embers
of the fire?
the most profound thing
I have heard in awhile,
is…
“there really is no Earth,
it is only dressed up,
as the Earth.”
anonymous, 5 years old
Today,
I draft a contract to myself,
one you may find amusing,
resourceful or contemplative.
I begin…
Today
I honor myself
as I did
before I knew either
the definition
or
the spelling
of honor
Today
I honor myself
as a child
with the face
turned
to the
Sun
Today
I honor myself
and forgive
my past
lack of realization
Today
I honor myself
and forgive
my past
perceived
mistakes
Today
I honor myself
and forgive
you
for what
I thought
or
think you
have done
Today
I honor myself
and covenant
that if I cannot think with love
I will neutralize
my thoughts
and think
without judgment
Peace to you today. You are beautiful.
To sit in the hands,
the palms of God,
is to live,
without fear.
I think I get it now.
I understand the positive, positive and positive bent of some of my fellow bloggers.
I finally get,
to focus on negativity is to beget negetavity.
No two ways about it.
Love resonates at a higher level.
If we embrace moments with the reflection of love,
we actually
engage
an
alchemic
change.
Hard to swallow,
because really,
who wants to believe
themselves
responsible
for the lowest moments of their lives?
Reverse,
suppose we learn we are,
and then can
unlearn
the negativity?
Peace.
I read many articles. Many books. Many reflect the path back to ourselves.
If I’m to be “honest” with you, should I be anything else? I would tell you, I believe there is only one “teaching”, one “truth”, whether it is called healing, spirituality, health, religion, love, etc.
The only truth is the heart.
Now this could be confusing because where does the soul then come in?
All I know is the soul and the heart are inextricably woven, not disparate, not separate, so I’m not sure if it matters what I call it.
I can practice yoga to get to my heart.
I can preach pretty words to get to your heart.
In the end, it is the path isn’t it, that divides, sometimes joins and other times enlightens us…the path to a singular, yet timeless, unlimited space. Within and beyond us.
Namaste.
Sometimes
there is nothing
left to say
you go hollow
empty
beyond reason.
Yet,
is it a bad
place
to be?
The space in between?
Have you ever felt
the moments
when they stretch
when time defies logic
in fact
when “time” is not
even present?
When it, you, life, just is?
New York Times reports: The Risk to Children in Myanmar
I read this article today and it hit me, yes, of course, the children are not just lost, without loved ones to protect them, but now in a further position to be exploited.
What can we do?
Children are children without geographical boundaries.
All children are our responsibility to raise up, as we will be theirs, in our older years.
Resources:
I share mine with you
I inadvertantly deleted beautiful comments when switching and administering my site!
Sorry guys!
Surface Earth is taking a time out.
Bless you one and all.
Namaste.
FoxNews, tongue in cheek, presents to us, or provides a channel to us, to hear a different perspective on Jesus’ alleged lineage.
Of course, I am only one reader, and hear sarcasm between the lines, as FoxNews reports on the Director, Paul Verhoeven’s, view and account of the possibility of Jesus’ lineage.
Now, I am not without sympthathy as to how such a view could be upsetting to untold millions, but if we are strong in our faith, then we can receive, process and decide for ourselves, yes? Different points of view, so long as they do not oppress, hurt, incriminate or falsely accuse, must be heralded, no?
So I think, Mr. Verhoeven’s views should at a minimum be reviewed with an open mind. Perhaps we could start with this objective viewpoint:
1. We know more today than we knew yesterday; and
2. We know less than we will tomorrow.
The other day driving to Court, I replayed the song: Let it Be from Across the Universe. Then I began to think of my routine prayers from childhood: Our Father and Hail Mary.
As I repeated the Hail Mary after several times, I began to smile, quite wide in fact, when I got to “Mother of God”. If Jesus is the Son of God and Mary is the mother of Jesus, then she is also the Mother of God?
Well, I enjoyed this hyperbole.
So when I see someone brave enough to come out and spin a different version on Jesus’ lineage, I say why not?
What’s the harm, really?
Faith begins and ends within each of us, the tenants are beautiful guidelines, but should never be used as the ultimate guidance on love or kindness and certainly, never used to oppress.
May the Divine bless all of you.
Namaste.
Life does not stop to hold us
We only grasp
Fingernails etched
Against the matrix
of continuing energy
The close of the night
Brings sweet sorrow
for
expectations
unmet
There is a cure
prepare
a shorter list
upon waking
I saw a sign this morning in front of a small church:
God forgets the past-
Imitate Him
I smiled. How simple. How profound. If you do not naturally know how to forget the past, you can pretend you do.
Wait, imitate? what do they mean imitate? how do I imitate “God”? I don’t even know if God is pure light or someone that looks like me and you. How do I imitate that which I can’t see?
Ah, I imitate the action. But is it action or is it non-action when you forget the past?
I decided to vote in favor of action, because for many of us, forgetting the past is in fact action, it requires “something”, clearing our mind, focusing on a simple picture in our minds, but certainly, navigating ourselves from visiting past paths that cannot be changed. The only thing you can do by visiting the past is effect the present and the next present and so on.
Ok, so I began to get a handle on this…then I thought “imitate”, as in copy? I felt the need to look up the word imitate…not sure I really understood.
Dictionary.com on “imitate” lead me to a variety of similar definitions, the majority of which referred to copying a person or image.
Well ok then, I was not feeling quite so foolish for my desire to look up the word imitate and take the simple six word message I saw earlier today and turn it into a voluminous meandering post.
As I continued to read the definitions, the word “act” jumped out at me, to strive to copy an act.
Ah………..long breath.
Now, I can put this to rest, I can live with that interpretation of the word “imitate” and thereby live with the wording of the message. I don’t know need to figure out what form God takes in order to follow the message.
So copying the Divine, I am presently, forgetting the past and signing off of the last few hours of thought.
I watch now on CNN, the explanation for keeping a plant within a temple to gain evidence for four years to have a case for prosecuting or stopping what many of us would call the abuse of children.
I digress, because it is not how I anticipated starting my post.
I am here now though, and will continue.
I hear:
“Why don’t many of these women (a/k/a children) run away”?
Well Larry, they don’t know what is outside of the walls. I mean no disrespect Larry, but please, when the world was flat, it was flat, to suggest otherwise was heresy. I still get looked at kind of funny when I suggest we may not be the only living beings in the universe/galaxy/dimensions of time.
So what am I going on about?
De-hu-man-i-za-tion.
Dehumanizing.
I need/want to understand how anyone does this, dehumanizes another. Perhaps, I need to be in their shoes. I prefer to not be, to be honest, who would want to live through that distorted, yet, real experience of the world?
I can tell you, we dehumanize, daily.
We get angry at people in traffic, not knowing why thery are oblivious or rushing, instead, probably calling them names.
We get angry when someone’s card doesn’t work in line at the foodstore.
We get mad when someone dares to question a price, (yeah, right, you kidding me? many more of us know, thirty cents makes a difference these days)
I get mad seeing these idiots in Texas abusing young women, and I want to know, when did the deception of reality, faith begin?
I no longer proscribe to any given religion, because I don’t believe in the one true, right religion, I only believe in the following:
dignity
compassion
love
respect
If that could be my religion, I could adhere to it, I cannot condemn, I cannot say other loving humans should not be saved, etc., etc., etc.
I know, we all contribute to what I call de-humanization.
What I want to know is, will we contribute to stopping this societal nightmare?
I have seen
the bottom
of tomorrow
it looks
not much
different
than
today
God’s Vision
Is only limited
by the sight
of our own eyes
The sweet smell of freedom
the chorus
of unrehearsed melody
Today,
I had a day “off”
I sifted through “old” writings
I sifted through “old” drawings
and
I threw them out
I feel lighter.
I want to tell you
how the sun looks
against the trees
tonight
I actually
love you
my loyal readers
so much
i ran outside
but picked the camera
without a card
I wanted
you to see
what I see
the horizon
of the end
of today
against tomorrow
and
I wanted
to get that for you
a glimpse
because that is often
all it is
namaste
my friends
may you brighten
the moments
of those
you walk
across
Do you ever wonder,
why you are here?
In blogland?
Is that even a word, blogland?
I sit in the spaces,
of the music tonight,
Sarah McLaughlin playing,
I could not find the other cds I wanted to hear,
it does not make her unworthy,
but perhaps,
timely.
Did I tell you the story?
Once upon a time,
there was a little girl,
she was too big,
yet too small,
she set off for school,
on one of those buses,
you know,
the yellow ones,
she couldn’t reach the first step,
but refused the help of her family,
the bus driver reached down,
across three ascending steps,
a hand,
and grabbed her,
into tomorrow.
He reached,
and she held,
and she stepped,
into the time,
that was not defined.
She was gone.
She spent the days after,
sometimes,
well,
maybe only once,
being forgotten,
on the very front seat of the bus,
the one behind the driver,
reflected in that big mirror,
but not seen,
the littlest one,
there that day,
into the bus pulled into the yard,
and someone,
a stranger,
found her,
unaccounted for….
she arose the next day,
nonetheless,
and got back up those stairs,
without a hand that time,
she did not want one.
She got off the bus,
the right stop this time,
and at three,
or was it four,
she remembered,
the sun playing across the cement,
the butter in her hand,
eaten,
without the excuse of bread.
The way the sun
sat upon the world,
not asking,
but,
saw.
And in this moment,
this fresh, new Spring,
she wonders,
if the girl,
will have her back.
Don’t criticize yourself
there may already
be
a long line
of people
behind you
unable themselves
to look within the mirror

I turned my head
And You were gone
I hear sounds around the realm of me
I don’t know what they are
What You are doing
Yet
I claim
To know You
Better than anyone
But I can’t feel
What would happen
If we surrendered
To the world around us
If we hung our heads
And just admitted
That it was not for us to see
But since
We don’t know
It’s not then pretend,
is it?
I make rules
And regulations
On Your speech
When I defend others
Whose rules?
Not Jesus
I lift from my seat typing those six letters
Lord hear me
If I could explode the world would tremble
If I gave even a percentage
Of what happens inside of me
Even witnessed a moment
Of how
I want to scoop
Up the pain
In the world and tend to it
A gardener
In an untended basket
I want my hat pulled low
My brim to the Earth
I want to bow in thanks
I want to dance
And tell You
Celebrate
When my feet hit Your contours
I want to say
I am sorry for being ashamed
Of
Being alive
I am sorry
I apologize for who I am
that would bow
to You
Yet
kiss the dandelion
peeking out
between the cement slabs
The Lord God
is beautiful
He lives within
the valley of my days
He stands
watches
and wrings His hands
as I
set the water to warm
fingers crossed
and stuff
the sink
with a handtowel
as the stopper
stopped long ago
as I take one of ten
of a pack
worn
and sink them into the water
and two of four
of a pack
and sink them
too
and
rub
the Dove
I wish organic
soap
beneath the trickle
and say
how wonderful
how divine
I have withstood time
I have taken
the necessities
of a woman in business
and parceled them to
and
within
a value pack
and have further
elongated
the value
beneath my tap
I have laid
the efforts of my days
against the cracked
tile of the tub
and
have thrown
in
upon
within the graying water
the rest that
keeps me whole
setting it
wringing
it
along the path
of my legs
my feet
that raise
me
each
day
So, guess what?
I have been blessed.
I am (in part) a litigation attorney.
Today, I need to work, despite my preference to go out and place bread and apples among the trees, my offering to nature on Good Friday.
So be it, I will find time later.
In the midst of working, I need a favor, some documents e-mailed. The other attorney has her assistant respond. She responds professionally and quickly on this day that many offices and the Courts are closed.
She signed her e-mail, the salutation, “Peace & Blessings”.
Oh yes, God spoke to me today.
How exciting to see such a sign off in the litigation world.
I responded of course: Namaste.
I have been blessed today and I offer it up to all of you, we can crawl from beneath the rocks and send peace and blessings in our everyday and our otherwise work/professional communities.
I said to my husband the above.
He said, and what would you have done if she said: Praise be to Allah?
I said: God has many names.
He reminded me of a conversation he had with a taxi driver, sometime ago, when he was discussing faith and religion and said:
“God is good in every language”.
Now you must know, this morning in my head, in between the spaces of law, I have been writing a piece (in my head) on the Divine and foreign languages.
Synchronicity?
Blessings in Abundance!
I’m reading now Anderson Cooper’s, Dispatches from the Edge, A Memoir of War, Disasters, and Survival.
I find it surprisingly self-effacing. I want to share with you a short piece therein that spoke to me (pp. 103-104):
“Here they treat the worst cases first. That’s what TV wants as well. The illest, the greatest in need. It’s a sad selection process that happens in your head.
‘That child’s bad, but I think we can find worse,’ I say to myself, deciding whose suffering merits time on TV. You tell yourself it’s okay, that your motives are good — at the moment you might even believe it. But later, alone, lying in bed, you go over the day and feel like a fraud. Each child’s story is worthy of telling. There shouldn’t be a sliding scale of death. The weight is crushing.
They die, I live. It’s such a thin line to cross. Money makes the difference. If you have it, you can always survive, always find a place to stay, something to eat. For the first few days in Maradi, I’m not even hungry. It’s not just the heat, the dust. I’ve become disgusted with myself. My body fat, my health, my minor aches and pains. I brought with me a bagful of food — cans of tuna and Power Bars — but the thought of eating anything makes me want to throw up. That changes, of course. After a couple days I forget why I’m depriving myself.
They die, I live. It’s the way of the world, the way it’s always been. I used to think that some good would come of my stories, that someone might be moved to act because of what I’d reported. I’m not sure I believe that anymore. Once place improves, another falls apart. The map keeps changing; it’s impossible to keep up. No matter how well I write, how truthful my tales, I can’t do anything to save the lives of the children here, now.”
You must know,
when I started here,
at beloved wordpress,
I had no clue what was meant by a MEME,
by what it meant to be tagged for one.
I have now enjoyed many,
although like Ronnie,
have never felt compelled to respond,
simply to respond,
rather the senders,
somehow sensed,
it was right for me.
And so it went.
So now, I introduce one from S.E.
It is simple,
and,
hopefully,
pure.
List 5-10 things of commanility that you have in common with the human race and/or nature.
List 5-10 things that you may have in common with the human race and/or nature.
Most of all,
peace among us.
S.E.’s Commanality MEME:
In common:
1. We breathe
2. We eat (I think, jury is still out on this one)
3. We sleep
4. We awake
5. We love
6. We worry
7. We battle perception
8. We have inherited Society
What we may have in common…
1. We judge
2. We perceive
3. We protect
4. We struggle
5. We love
6. We laugh
7. We hope
8. We dream
9. We wish for something “bigger” than ourselves
***Kindly send back, I want to see the evolution……….
On deck:
Everyone else, join in, leave a comment, e-mail me at surfaceearth@gmail.com or ping away.
Peace, blessings and healing light to all who enter here.
Namaste.
See?
Hear?
Feel?
I don’t end.
It hit me like a ton of bricks tonight, an 18 wheeler when I was looking left rather than right.
I simply
Do
Not end.
I can give you verbatim
Transcripts
Of this ordinary; yet, unusual mind of mine
Or I can stay silent
And give
Pieces
Bait at the
End of the string_
Regardless,
I remain
As
Do
You.
Meme, again?
Enreal tagged me for a very cool meme. (My keen sense of observation has finally lead me to post a link to the original author: Bookbabie)What six words define me? If you are anything like me, often beyond definition even to yourself, there is only one way to do this….what six words define me in the moment of that thought?
Let me give you the outline of the meme and then my answer:
Here are the rules:
1. Write your own six word memoir.
2. Post it on your blog and include a visual illustration if you’d like.
3. Link to the person who tagged you in your post and to this original post if possible so we can track it as it travels across the web.
4. Tag five more blogs with links.
5. And don’t forget to leave a comment on the tagged blogs with an invitation to play!
My six word memoir:
The dawn before the day remains.
Now tagging….
2. Gypsyheart
3. Tumel
4. Sorrow
5. Tobeme
[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GQNpEET9WqQ&rel=0&color1=0x2b405b&color2=0x6b8ab6&border=0]
He was given
two hands
on which to count
to hold
to grasp
On one
he counted
the injustice
of
the favors
unreturned
The other
lay empty
waiting
for
return
I sit
feet beneath me
crawled into
the depth of a chair
I sit
knowing
God
is somewhere
on the edge of my being
I falter
hanging on
fingers on the edge
wondering
how hard
I should hold on
I want
to send you a picture
a sketch
a charcoal
sketched against
off white
rough paper
to show you
what my words mean
but I lack the materials
and the time
in this moment
***
I sit on the edge of the universe
my faery feet
flying
into the foam of the ocean caps
I dip
my toes
the toes I sometimes
dip
dip
dip
I dip them in
those little things
I dip them in and out
do you see them now?
those five points
dipped in foam?
those happy
little
digits
sprayed against the
horizon of the sky
against the epicenter
of the unknown?
****
I sit
on the edge
of a moss covered rock
I dip
my toes
into the clear
clear
clear waters of a meandering stream
I watch what I think
are the
never moving rocks
the pebbles
watching the
water go by
I dip and dip again
****
My faery feet
I see them well
I never asked
I never told
just a little one
a wee one
they said
so
spry
so slight
when they sucked my breath
I didn’t
know how to say
no