Lebanese Prime Minister Najib Mikati has invited the Pope to visit Lebanon. (more…)
Posts Tagged ‘Faith’
My adventure to Costa Rica began when I found a job teaching at the Pan American School, an international bilingual high school outside of San Jose. (more…)
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.
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.
There are times,
between the spaces,
when we have,
moments of gratitude,
in the open spaces
designed and built
both long before and after our time.
There are times,
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,
on a child’s face,
when they turn at you,
Have I shared with you,
the millions of times,
within my home,
I love you?
not to get something back,
but because it is.
Have I shared with you,
my mortal fears?
that our rights to love,
not by our decree, but by,
egos of others.
I do not blame them.
Because to do so,
is to blame them,
for not having been loved,
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,
would not let,
our brothers and sisters fail,
but lift them up,
within our arms of collective consciousness.
Every child gone wrong,
with a finger pointed at him or her,
is still the child,
no I don’t mean,
we excuse behavior that hurts one another,
we raise a village,
we stop it before it begins,
Peace to you today.
let us know what we can do,
if you don’t,
we will wish you had.
How to begin?
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.
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.
my night ended, looking at flowers still opened,
just one above,
it looks of the day.
My day started,
and in one point
of that early transition,
i had a moment of grace,
i saw for some reason,
a small fleck of color,
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,
at the time,
see this color,
and the flower opened,
seen as I did,
perhaps the camera quality cannot give you the sensation,
in the early hours.
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………………..
In a nutshell,
what truly would fit?
Is there something I can share,
that you yourself,
have not thought of?
grammar is but a tool
to help bridge the gap
and I will flout
those rules here.
did it matter,
how your hair looked?
what car you drove?
who said what about you?
what I would call,
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 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
If I am rooted in faith,
they can try,
isn’t it up to me,
as to how,
**May you be blessed and protected today. Namaste.
I stop at this point. Following the title above.
Christianity and Scientology?
Has this made CNN headlines?
“TAMPA, Florida (CNN) — Some Christian congregations, particularly in lower income, urban areas, are turning to an unlikely source for help — the Church of Scientology.
Rev, Charles Kennedy uses Scientology founder L. Ron Hubbard’s book during a Friday night sermon.
Scientologists do not worship God, much less Jesus Christ. The church has seen plenty of controversy and critics consider it a cult. So why are observant Christians embracing some its teachings?
Two pastors who spoke recently with CNN explained that when it comes to religion, they still preach the core beliefs of Christianity. But when it comes to practicing what they preach in a modern world, borrowing from Scientology helps.
The Rev. Charles Kennedy, of the Glorious Church of God in Christ, a Pentecostal church in Tampa, Florida, and the Rev. James McLaughlin, of the Wayman Chapel African Methodist Episcopal Church in Houston, Texas, are among the theological hybrids.
They say they are not scared off by programs with ties to a church that critics say has aggressive recruiting, secretive ways and rigid theology. As men of God rooted in Christian values, they do not see Scientology as a threat to their faith, but rather as a tool to augment it.”
1. Scientology not seen to be a threat; and
2. Not scared of aggressive recruiting.
That alone is enough to make headlines. What intrigues me though is that men of their own religion, with proscribed rules of dogma, have stepped outside of the lines. I applaud thinking outside of the lines.
Since I first wrote this post last evening, I have spent some time thinking about it and reading Ronnie’s comment below.
I agree that there can be danger in any organization that seeks to oppress and wrongly manipulate. I say “wrongly” manipulate, because I do think, consciously or unconsciously, all religions and many organizations, to a degree manipulate when they focus on only one way, one system of belief, exclusivity.
What I do embrace is moving beyond the lines, “getting out of the box”, and learning from a multitude of what is around us.
Faith. The sound of the word is pleasing, like a gentle breeze on a Spring Day, it surrounds us if only for a moment.
Sometimes, when I am having doubts about faith, because I have let anger, resentment, frustration or hopelessness stand in place, I find a mantra, it doesn’t truly matter which one. Sometimes it is a prayer from childhood, repeating the Hail Mary over and over again within me until the space I kept reserved for my negative emotion is replaced with peace. Sometimes I just breath the word God in and out.
I don’t know whether faith is a choice or a long forgotten memory for many. I know I have to spend more time fighting faith than convincing myself of it.
I believe in a multitude of paths to divinity, to the universe, to all that we have forgotten as humanity.
I believe the birds do in fact speak to us with their movements. I believe there are other dimensions around us at all times, energy and spiritual forces, that exist whether we believe or don’t believe. I believe that faith can in fact heal all, the struggle of remaining open to such power is what very often creates the resistance as if insurmountable waves.
This morning, I am thankful for faith and for the opportunity to see beyond the parameters within each moment.
Some are reporting that the late Pope John Paul II has appeared in the flames of a bonfire in Poland. Not sure if it’s correct to say within the flames, or that the flames of the bonfire have taken the shape of Pope John Paul II.
I tried copying two of the articles, the first one contained comments which I wasn’t interested in, not because they “dissed” the idea of such an occurrence, but the lack of brotherly love in the responses wasn’t something I was fond of…so, I went to another source and encountered technical difficulty posting the photo.
So instead, for whoever is interested in seeing the photographs, try the link below….
And, if you have the time, go to the link below, take the image and copy it over into a blank document, if you then highlight the photo as if to copy it, you get the reverse/darkened image….funny…you can see the image even better…
“…quantum teleportation involves the transmission not of actual matter, but rather of information.”
Hmmm, does that mean our “information” would then be duplicated or does it mean that we are only “information” in essence?
“And what of the “classical teleportation” so integral to the adventures of Captain Kirk, Mr. Spock and Harry Potter? Will there ever come a time when actual people, rather than just the particles of which they are made up, will be able to beam from one place to another?
Charles Bennett believes that, in principle at least, it is perfectly feasible to teleport humans without violating any of the fundamental laws of physics. Not only that, but, also in principle, it could be done without resorting to the complexities of quantum entanglement.”
Now we’re talking!!!
Go to the source of the quotes above, not only may you find it fascinating but there is also a cool picture of our Star Trek friends………………
You know, Padre Pio was able to bi-locate……………………..
How many times in our life are we within these moments?
Unfounded, unlimited happiness? Moments within which we feel neither the finality of morality, nor the limit of our beginnings?
I read today, or was it yesterday, on The Naked Soul: To Whose Beat Are You Marching To…, about stripping ourselves bare of the expectations of others that we carry, the expectations that have become our own.
I see a lost girl in a train station, too many bags too carry alone, no idea as to what is packed within them, but all stamped “necessary”.
Now I wish I could give you the visual of this, that I had the acumen of some of my fellow bloggers to insert the proper pictures within the proper space of the words, and someday I will, but for now, believe, that there is a space between the words where only visuals can be captured and then there is yet a larger space, although often undetectable, where only the emotion without words or pictures exists. In that space, only faith of heart exists.
This morning, my brain was wandering and I realized that the energy of my search, my frenzied search to not only have all the answers at once, but to have the most simple of all answers at once, in regard to faith and spirituality, has slowed down.
I have a faith in God and always have for some reason. I no longer even know why except it is a part of me.
I do not believe in any one religion being the only right religion. I believe in the path of the human heart.
For some reason, the last few weeks, I feel less resistance, less need to struggle. Now that doesn’t mean I’m not still searching, remaining open and pausing when I see what I consider to be signs of other things that I don’t know, maybe can’t know, until I evolve in some other way, some other time.
In the meantime, I’m going to let my heart be the guide and not try to be right or know it all, and not be so hard on myself for not moving ahead in this evolution faster.
I’m going to go day by day and see the small miracles and welcome new revelations and love with an open heart doing the things I must and the things I enjoy.
I find it timely that this morning, Ronnie over at OutofmyHead sent a link to a news story she knew I would enjoy on Mother Teresa and I felt compelled to share it with the rest of you.
Posted: 2007-08-24 10:40:51
Filed Under: World News
(Aug. 24) In life, she was an icon for believers of God’s work on Earth. Her ministry to the poor of Calcutta was a world-renowned symbol of religious compassion. She was awarded the Nobel Peace Prize.
Photo Gallery: ‘Please Forgive Me’
The nun, right, ministers to the poor in Calcultta, India, in 1979. “Where is my faith?” she wrote after starting work there. “Even deep down … there is nothing but emptiness and darkness. … If there be God — please forgive me.”
Can I write to you now? A lapsed Catholic?
Can I write how I feel you infuse our world with energy? Miracles that in the short years to come will be commonplace?
Do I have the authority to write anything in regard to you?
Is it enough I feel your love for humanity in my heart?
Is that enough to allow me to share?
I type on a keyboard that is not my own. Which means I must keep my eyes open, I must see the visible, to make it comprehensible what my point, what my hope is to be.
You know of course that when I write and type I do so to music with my eyes closed, let the words fall where they might? I believe only in the purity.
Sometimes Mary, I take a meandering path, I go up mountains and hills, slay dragons, and this is before even my first cup of coffee. I would not write about some of the dragons I have slayed, because to be frank, most would think it was a made for Hollywood series.
Moments in life that must be made up, because how could they be true?
Simply, because I have lived them, and yes, Mary, it is possible I have misconceived some of my own experience, but I can tell you, I have not misconceived it all.
So I say to you, Mary, Mother, wise of all others, thank you – I know you continue to love us even if we have disavowed the cloaks of religion we were born into, isn’t it the Catholics that had your birthday wrong?
Mary, I stand as testament to your miracles.
Mary, I was scared for a very long time to acknowledge you because I disavow organized religion, but you have shown me, you are only about the purity of love, of our hearts.
Namaste Mary, I greet you.
Do the Laws of Attraction shift depending on where you are?
The best and most pure answer is “no”, a resounding “no”, because the Laws of Attraction are just that, tools to drive beyond the present. Now, some may argue with my characterization, that the Laws of Attraction are in fact steeped within the now, that when you speak of it as attracting the future, you forego where you stand.
That is relevant and to be further discussed at another time, but, I am more interested in WHO you are when you attempt to invoke the Laws of Attraction.
Can the theory in fact work no matter who you are, which is the same as saying, no matter where you stand?
If I stand within a burning building with the perception of away out, people I love around me, does it give both me and them a bridge? Is it like what Doby can do when he dissipates in the Harry Potter series? Are there different levels of magic/magik depending on what species you are, in other words, where you stand?
I don’t know. I question though because I am fascinated with the subject. I am also fascinated with the Oneness Movement, for many reasons, but primarily, because if you believe its power, it has the ability no matter where you stand or who you are to elevate you nonetheless.
Yet, it seems to have an ingredient: what is it you hold in your heart for yourself? Do you truly want to ascend?
Again, the strength of awakening, of miracles becoming ordinary, appears to come hand in hand with the strength of faith, or perhaps for those of us who waver despite overt signs, the ability to give it up anyway.
Thanks ToBeMe for inspiring this line of thought.
This is what I saw today, in a Catholic message, it’s ok to ask and ask again.
You don’t have to say, no, it’s not my time, millions have it worse than me, you don’t have to say, oh, hi God, I’m just stopping in to see how you are, because really, You and I know I really shouldn’t be asking for anything.
Rather, I saw what I wanted to see today, and perhaps that’s the only way I’ll ever be able to see, my way.
Taken from: Medjugorje.org
“The Catholic Calendar for Sunday, July 29, 2007
Seventeenth Sunday in Ordinary Time
Scripture from today’s Liturgy of the Word:
Psalm 138:1-2, 2-3, 6-7, 7-8
A reflection on today’s Sacred Scripture:
I remember a student from Italy who attended Wadhams Hall Seminary in Ogdensburg, NY, many years ago. He was quite unaccustomed to the ways of Americans. When he tried to bargain over the price of a comb at the local pharmacy, the manager almost threw him out! Americans aren’t as used to bargaining over small purchases as Europeans are.
God seems to encourage bargaining in today’s First Reading. Abraham is disturbed when he learns that the Lord plans to destroy the evil city of Sodom. After all, he knows that his nephew Lot and his wife have not given in to the sinful deeds of their neighbors. He succeeds in getting God to spare the city “for the sake of ten just men!”
Jesus not only allows us to bargain with God, He actively encourages us to do so. After teaching His apostles how to pray in the beautiful words we know as the Lord’s Prayer, He urges His followers not to give up if at first the Father doesn’t seem to be listening. To paraphrase, He says, “Don’t give up, keep knocking! Do you think my Father would refuse anything to His children?“
It’s an important lesson that we often forget!
– Msgr. Paul Whitmore — email: pwhitmore29(at)yahoo(dot)com”
I added the emphasis, the underline above, to share with you where my thought came from…I look forward to hearing where it leads you to…………
Tobeme a/k/a The Naked Soul today wrote a piece on The Magic of Life.
Now granted, I am a fan of his blog and often come away with something that makes me continue to chew, in other words, I rarely fully digest the words and spin them over, wondering as to the many paths, the many intuitions, the abundance of wisdom.
Today, I found myself again on the Naked Soul blog because I enjoy it. Now days before, maybe just 1.5 or two, but I’m thinking less than two, I was challenging myself, asking myself: What, what? what is it you are seeking? What do you want? What do you hope to achieve?
It came to me: Magic.
I wanted to live within and know magic.
Not sorcery, no dark arts, but just plain and simple, knowing the undercurrent which causes all other things.
It could be termed so many different ways: spirituality, Deeksha, Kaballah, Mysticism, Christian or otherwise, Paganism, Celtic Mythology, etc.
What stopped me in my tracks as I thought down this road, is….were the alleged witches in Salem County doing anything differently? Searching and wishing for something different? Perhaps even for some possessing the inner knowledge? And I thought, no, no and no. And then I felt what only a shade of what it must have felt to be so accused, so damned, for simply searching for knowledge. And know, it can happen yet again and does happen, day after day.
Now, I feel like the voice behind the cloak, the heavy hood, perhaps a signboard around my neck and a bell tolling in my hand, crying along the streets: The End is Near.
It’s not what I intend, not what I want, certainly if I believe in manifestation, not what I should think about for even a moment….yet…I do.
Ok, ok, I have awhile yet to go to clear out the ego, to detach myself before I am free from such limiting thoughts…in the meantime…I am here, still questioning on this level.
I still want the answers, the bare bones, stripped to the core, pure beyond purity solution to what we all live and breath: life and faith, humanity, how to get to the next level.
If I was playing a video game, I could consult a manual, a blog with tips, whatever, because we could get to the source of design of that one game, but, if we get to the source of design of this game, our game, will we get our answers? will we be empowered or will we still be operating on blind faith?
I was gratified to come across a lovely post on Sibbia’s blog this evening.
My posts have been simple this week, rather quiet, reflecting the depth of silence in me and what I wait for it to tell me.
Sibbia said in such a moving way, how we can easily allow in a better part of ourselves, for those readers that believe in God, she has written concisely and simply of the easy steps to allow God in to lead you closer to yourself. At least that is what I have come away with….simple, refreshing, pleasing, just right. Indulge youself, take a peek, I doubt you will be sorry you spent a moment in such a lovely flow of thought.
I’m wondering if God has a monogamous relationship with each and every one of us.
I don’t care much for religious thought, Biblical teachings, it’s not done much for humanity all of these years to enlighten us to prevent crimes against humanity or the lack of daily kindness.
I care instead about what I believe is the one and only true religion, the religion of the heart: open, loving kindess.
Is it possible for God indeed to have a monogamous relationship with each of us?
I read the news and hear the news and I shake my head. How is it possible? Prayers of thanks are given by those physically saved in the midst of numbers mounting day after day of those that are unable to thank God for saving them, either because they are no longer on planet Earth or because they have suffered such circumstances that thanks are no longer in their vocabularly.
If it is true that God only responds to some prayers, some religions, some chosen people, then obviously God is not having a monogamous loving relationship with each and every one of us and is favoring some over others.
See, I can’t believe that, I truly cannot get that notion through my thick head.
The only other alternative for me then is: God gave us the tools we need and some of us fail to use them….That’s what I want to believe, because then there means there is hope and something to look forward to, a greater, better human race that wants to improve.
We are almost all certainly aware, paraphrased, that faith can move mountains.
It occurs to me that perhaps the greatest mountain is the one within ourselves. If we can live and embody faith, and no, I don’t care what you call that faith, let it flood us, it could change everything. First, it could change our own internal topography and then, what lies beyond us.
I walked by our garden, I saw a long stemmed original daisy. You know the kind, long, straight, proud, daring, stark white petals against the sky, you love me, you love me not.
I stopped. Momentarily amazed that any flowers grew in the fluctuating temperatures, but that this one stood alone.
I looked closer. It stood tall and proud, yet slightly withered against the sky. I understood, it had been left to stand alone. The stems surrounding it had been chewed. Was it the mother, the deer, I whispered to, telling her, it’s ok, you are safe here? Your babies are safe here? We’ll even go back inside when we see you so they don’t become too afraid too soon.
The deer left this moment for me.
I find myself in awe of so many things. I would love to write them all down, but some of them fly by me before I can properly apply gratitude and others stop me in my tracks, ground me, that I don’t know how to add any “new” words to the events.
Yesterday, Ronnie at Workcoach and OutofmyHead got me thinking, oh, I said that didn’t I? But forgive me, I’m no cook, and I have another pot of vegetable soup simmering and a drum set in my kitchen and Princess Di’s Memorial Concert pouring out with Sir Elton John humbling us, and maybe I may be repeating myself as I do this…..
So Ronnie dared to talk about the different types of energy and how they balance and I said: girl, you are talking to me. Her post read: Energy, Fortune Cookies and Life (yes, I left out Ronnie’s comma, more on that sometime later, maybe).
I said, Amen, Amen, Amen: how true is her post, how much it resonates with life. The balancing and the acknowledgment of the balancing and the presumed freedom to do just that.
We are waiting for Ronnie to post the next piece on the steps of courage to implement the levels of energy…wait with us…I promise…it will be worth the wait.
Funny how Ronnie’s piece led me to Romancing the Crone’s newest piece. And before I tell you how to get there, I must say, the people in Barnes & Noble today thought I was wacked out of my head when I wasn’t sure of the author or the title of some books of the Hawaii method of englightment, balancing and readjustment of justice that she so kindly posted for any of us that tripped over her site.
Ok, ok: here it is: Romancing the Crone on “You need to know about Ho’oponopono”.
Well, imagine me trying to pronounce or describe that in Barnes and Noble–believe me, neither me nor the man at Barnes & Noble with a striped, polo, golf-t were impressed…so here I am, and I will order the books off of Amazon.
Romancing caused me to start surfing to find out more and I came across a blog: Today is that Day with some great resources.
In the meantime, I came across a story in People Magazine, yup, at page 46 of the printed version: entitled: Raising My Sister’s Boys.
A story about a young, young man, 20 when this began, who visited his twin sister’s children in foster care and couldn’t live with the sounds of their tears or his own as he left and he convinced the system that he would be the best parent for them, that despite being a young man.
What I wonder, and I ask anyone out there, don’t we know of any way to help this young man get ahead, who in his young 20s, took on responsibility for 3 children?
Read the story yourself please & hey, namaste, no lie, I can’t yet find an internet link, but if any of you are standing in line at the store, it begins at page 86 of the July 9, 2007 edition.
It’s me, again.
I know that you hear me everyday, chatting, begging, pleading, reasoning-asking for faith. You would think the mere fact I turn to you is faith itself, wouldn’t You?
But I know me, and You know me, and I am wrestling with my ego, unwilling to give it up, unwilling, because I think I will lose me, and my faith in You in the process.
Is that what they call, a paradox?
My “second” letter to You I started in a small, discounted, bound leather brown book, gold edged pages, a piece of fabric to mark where I left off. Small enough to go with me wherever I choose, anywhere but in my pocket. I will get back to that, that the book I choose to speak to You within could not fit within the smallest spaces. But not yet God, not yet.
I started my book, the first page, like this:
“To any who may enter here, turning the pages – remember – this is my journey – my perception of the world. Without collective consciousness, you may find yourself lost and without understanding as to my wording, my intent, my context and that will be as it is.
But I continued God, I turned the page.
Another day I said to You:
I am unsure whether it is truly a grand awakening or as we stumble step by step, we find ourselves in a new place of thought.
I desire in these pages to embrace my voice, my connection with God, to truly hear the voice of God and live with that knowledge.
We know so little, barely skimming the surface of this Earth. What can I say as to how much I know of ultimate Truth or knowledge?
I long to amass, piece by piece, a web, a ladder, a matrix of higher learning. Why is there so much unknown? It came to me that with a shift in the energy fields, a rebalancing, we could accomplish anything. We could form energy barriers to prevent destruction of humanity along shorelines. Energy bumper fields to prevent cars, trains and planes form impact and consequent calamity.
On some level, answers are known. At the point it becomes realized, we will have most likely also have abolished the need for mechanical transport.
The hardest part is breaking out of the self created barriers. The nine to five of the imposed Society.
I no longer have any aspiration to remain a lawyer. None. I find it distasteful and I resent people’s refusal to move toward resolution.
I want to cry. Big, tearing gulping sobs. It is my own own inaction that keeps me stuck in place.
Hi God. Yup, me.
Here I sit. In a “County”, a seat of justice. I drove down the highway, a torrential rain pour. I was lucky I even brought myself to drive 50 mph and the other people, flying by, driving so fast, do they wonder what would happen if they hydroplaned?
Same day, later than who I was this morning. So much later that I must try three times to flip the pages of this journal, so thick the leaf edge, I don’t dare believe I bought this for myself to speak to God. I throw down my old glasses, they fall from my nose anyway, so stretched the arms have become. I don’t need them to read these pages.
So, anything new?
There is so very much I write in my head, between the moments – now and before – it never gets on the page. For now, I will put aside this journal, this memorable me, put it aside and read the book I bought on Gandi. I so passionately want to continue reading and I will slip inside the realm of semi-consciousness sleep state, when I dream in guarded dreams of tomorrow.
*If they ever obliterate tactile writing and reading, I will elect to ascend, immediately.
Siting outside today, another day without a blackberry. How much more peaceful. Sitting outside, a small diner, with tables set out on brick pavers. Small sign says: ‘sorry, we do not accept credit cards’.
Quickly I ask, how much for a cup of coffee and a toasted english muffin? $2.25, plus tax. I check. I have a five and some change, fair enough for a decent tip, I order.
I sit across from the courthouse, another case where settlement negotiations will change and the mood of the equity judge, King of all Kings, or as Alice said, the King of nothing, all at once, is less predictable than a storm at Sea.
I had a dream last night, I’m sure of not many things, but this I recall…a bird coming to land on my shoulder, momentarily frightened as I am not sure if it will claw me; then my fear becomes less and I began to worry of the bird relieving itself on my back. It begins to sing with me. I ran around to show people the miracle, but another bird, a small sparrow, flew into my mouth.
I’m tired now God. I will go, there is never a moment You don’t hear me anyway.
***Hey God, as an afterthought, I sound like I’m just stamping my feet.
***Upon further thought God, I need to say, although You know this already, I was in fact stamping my feet. I complain about the justice system, about being a lawyer, and the simple fact is, I simply wish we lived in a world where we needed neither a justice system nor lawyers. My acts of complaining about it, poking at different sectors of the system, does nothing to change the whole and only adds negativity. So thanks for listening.
Does the need to document miracles reflect the lack of faith?
If so, does it matter?
The occurrences of miracles are reported, with fanfare, and other times, remain unreported, but for the jubiliation or transformation of a few.
I tend to believe in something greater than us.
I believe we have cut off, intentionally or otherwise, channels to a greater, better knowledge. That is why many of the thoughts of yesterday, we laugh at, as tomorrow, we may be the subject of more than a few chuckles for our historic beliefs.
So be it.
My curiosity though, at least the one I entertain in this given moment, is has there ever been a reported healing of someone who has lost a limb?
I have read of those that have passed religious testing, vision, hearing, ability to walk, disease, but I cannot recall one story of a limb being regenerated.
If anyone out there is similarly interested in miracle stories and has one they can share, please do so.
In the meantime I will keep searching. Today’s returns gave me some alternative views of the use of the word miracle. “Miracles” returned the following from Wikepedia:
“Miracles may be:
- Miracles, a 1989 film starring and directed by Jackie Chan.
- Pocketful of Miracles, a 1961 film directed by Frank Capra.
- Miracles, a 2003 American drama television series.
- Miracles, a song by the Pet Shop Boys.
- Miracles, a book by C.S. Lewis
- The Miracles The Motown vocal group led by Smokey Robinson”
However, when I dropped the “s” and searched for miracle, this is partially what I found on Wikepedia:
“A miracle, derived from the old Latin word miraculum meaning “something wonderful”, is a striking interposition of divine intervention by a God in the universe by which the ordinary course and operation of Nature is overruled, suspended, or modified. Although many religious texts and people confirm witnessing or prophesying various events which they refer to as “miraculous”, it is disputed whether there are scientifically confirmed occurrences of miracles. People in different faiths have substantially different definitions of the word “miracle”. Even within a specific religion there is often more than one usage of the term.
Sometimes the term “miracle” may refer to the action of a supernatural being that is not a god. Thus, the term “divine intervention”, by contrast, would refer specifically to the direct involvement of a deity.
In casual usage, “miracle” may also refer to any statistically unlikely but beneficial event, (such as the survival of a natural disaster) or even to anything which is regarded as “wonderful” regardless of its likelihood, such as birth.”
For those of you not favoring the existence of miracles, try The Skeptic’s Dictionary.
I found that site, Skeptic’s Dictionary, by the ever even-handed, Wikepedia.
Suppose, you recognized that in the moments when you first awake from sleep, you have no name?
Suppose you recognized that in those few spare moments in the day there was no list, no bills, no anger, no complaints, no one outside of the limitless mind that you awoke to?
Limitless of course implying that you woke to some collective whole. As if whole could be separated from collective.
I recently read something…what a laugh as I am always reading…but I read something, I believe it was on The Spiritual Oracle…and I was questioning something, suprise, repeating number sightings I think, and someone replied that they had learned to accept what is and was…hmmm.
I think I get it now.
I have this odd occurrence daily, birds sweep and hover in front of my car, my windshield, it used to freak me out and I would duck…recently I shrug it off, knowing it means something, but also knowing I do not know the language of birds and I just better let it go. Now I am talking as if I have really mastered sitting back and nothing could be further from the truth, but I swear, I haven’t ducked so much in the last few days.
What helped me was thinking of children. Children don’t to our knowledge recognize the written language and it takes most years of integration to get them to conform and see it “our” way. Yet, a part of them recognizes the power of the written word, the mystical aspect, the magic, and will hold a book, a piece of paper, a dollar bill…and “pretend” to read. I recently saw this and thought: that is me on a spiritual search, I pretend to know the language.
Maybe some days I am searching to have a firm footing in spirituality.
I used to believe I would find it within the fit of the right religion.
I think I have given up the thought, but you never know.
What I am searching for is the unshakeable foundation of faith, but I am sometimes challenged on a daily basis to hold onto that faith, as many of my prior posts may show. I see horrible news and I waver in my faith. And yes, good news abounds, but somehow even 1,000 good stories don’t knock the story of tragedy from my mind. This is my shortcoming.
I would like to be as an innocent, well loved child again, pure in my beliefs, without doubt.
I search to find a way to trigger the collective consciousness so tragedy and disparity is history for everyone in this world.
I search in favor of miracles and am sometimes drawn in by the anti-miracle stories, the non-existence, the lack of proof, etc. I wonder if I am motivated to disbelieve.
I found a link to the “Miracle Detective” on the American Magazine Org/National Catholic Weekly.
(See also: Catholic Forums, Silence of the Birds: back and forth as to approval/disapproval/etc. of the books below)
It seems it is the story of yet another spiritual seeker……………….
“Sightings, Signs and Wonders
It is difficult to imagine two books about the same subject more dissimilar than these. Randall Sullivan’s The Miracle Detective is a drawn-out tour de force rivaling The Da Vinci Code in length, digressions and clues that ultimately don’t go anywhere. Lisa Schwebel’s Apparitions, Healings, and Weeping Madonnas is a terse, quasi-scholarly book that examines evidence and draws some strong conclusions that are bound to stir discussion. I think Sullivan might have been spared a lot of angst if he had engaged in a long conversation with Schwebel before he got deep into his research.
Yet it is far more likely that The Miracle Detective will have the larger readership, because of its appeal to devotees of Marian apparitions who may be eager to accompany Sullivan on his painful, personal odyssey. He is a former Los Angeles police detective and author of several investigative books, including one on the murders of the hip-hop icons Tupac Shakur and Notorious B.I.G. Although he is not a Catholic and seems to have no background in any faith, he becomes intrigued by a reported appearance of Mary in Oregon, and immerses himself in the phenomenon of visions. Very quickly he is in over his head.
After reading accounts of various visions and visiting Rome to converse with priests who study reported miracles as part of canonization processes, he comes to believe that religious visionaries may be fakes or they may be hysterics or they just might be telling the truth. He is soon off to Medjugorje, but he does not arrive for another 50 pages as he narrates the history of the claims, along with observations about Bosnia and Herzegovina and musings on Manichaeism and other Gnostic heresies once prevalent in the region.
Equipped on his arrival with nothing more authoritative than credentials from Rolling Stone magazine, Sullivan is nevertheless accorded generous hospitality, is invited to stay at the home of Mirjana, one of the visionaries, and is granted relatively free access to the others. The more he learns, the more he is inclined to accept their stories as factual; that is, the visions seem to him to be genuine interventions from the supernatural world. Then comes his own, first-ever spiritual experience as he climbs the mountain where the sightings of the Virgin were first reported. He observes a “sudden massing of clouds” over the peak of the mountain. “My knees buckled when a bolt of lightning fell out of the sky straight toward me…. The clouds burst in an instant and rain fell in sheets. I was soaked within seconds but trembled more from fear than from cold. Never had I believed more in a God of wrath than I did at that moment.”
Suddenly out of the darkness, a lone, “dark-haired and dimpled” young woman appears and gives the thoroughly soaked investigator a cap and a towel. When he reaches the mountaintop, his mood changes 180 degrees; he is overcome with euphoria and a profound feeling of liberation that stays with him. He never sees the woman again, and the reader must wait 300 pages to discover who Sullivan believes the woman might have been. This late revelation, perhaps calculated to send shivers down the spine of the reader, does not work because by then, the detective’s quest had turned into such an obsession that the reader is more concerned about Sullivan’s sanity than about the authenticity of apparitions.
He discusses at length Marian appearances at Garabandal, Lourdes, Fatima and elsewhere, reads more books, asks more questions, visits more miracle sites, goes back to Rome and Medjugorje, becomes more consumed. At times Sullivan provides day-by-day, sometimes minute-by-minute accounts of his travels and conversations. Everywhere he is impressed with the composure and integrity of visionaries and their supporters, yet he is never sure what to make of all this—or what it is supposed to mean for him.
Eventually, Sullivan is crippled by his doubts, depressions and a fever, whose symptoms he relates in dramatic detail. “I was woozy, my knees nearly buckled several times as I walked through the crushed white rock and cactus plants that filled Carol’s front yard and climbed back into the oven of my rental car…. Back at the resort I filled the bathtub with cold water and buckets of ice, then sat in it for the next hour drinking rum and Cokes.” Is this the dark night of the soul, he wonders, or is it insanity? Or maybe it’s diabolic possession. Still he goes on and on.
At last a sort of resolution comes, when the author has a long interview with Benedict Groeschel of the Franciscans of the Reform, widely known for his appearances on Mother Angelica’s television network. Sullivan pours out his story of search and torment, and Groeschel patiently listens. Then he explains that some seemingly miraculous manifestations may have a “paranormal” explanation. Sullivan seems not to have heard that word before, but appears greatly relieved to learn that certain natural experiences, which science is as yet unable to explain, may indeed be also the work of God operating through a person’s spiritual nature; so it’s not necessary to make rigid distinctions between supernatural events that come from God and natural events that don’t. In other words, God is capable of multitasking. At this point Sullivan abruptly concludes that all he has to do is love God. That brings him peace—at least for the time being.
Lisa Schwebel, a theologian who teaches at Hunter College in New York City, takes up where Sullivan leaves off. The paranormal is her bread and butter. She does not seem to have visited any miracle sites or interviewed any visionaries. But she has read widely reports of mystical phenomena, studied practically everything written about parapsychology and consulted what theologians like Karl Rahner, S.J., have had to say about miraculous occurrences.
Her approach is analytic, her conclusions stark. She introduces concepts like precognition, telepathy, psychometry, divination, clairvoyance and bilocation as understood by scientific researchers and examines how they might be relevant for understanding apparitions and other reported wonders. “As long as an experience can be explained according to a reasonably probable, even hypothetical theory of parapsychological phenomena, its divine origin is not established,” she writes. Long ago Rahner said the same thing. The existence of paranormal powers means that “we must disregard many phenomena formerly accepted as decisive proofs of the supernatural origin of visions.”
Schwebel explains that confirmed laboratory experiments using thousands of subjects demonstrate what parapsychologists call the “ordinariness” of extrasensory perception and psychokinesis (the ability of mind to influence matter from a distance). These abilities, she says, “exist across the general population regardless of religious affiliation or belief, and this means the mere presence of parapsychological powers in visionary experiences does not guarantee its religious character.” Telepathy, psychometry and psychokinesis may be factors in the major events at Garabandal, Schwebel says, while divination and cryptomensia have some relevance for the events at Lourdes and other sites.
Fatima, considered by many the gold standard of modern Marian apparitions, gets especially detailed scrutiny in light of the church’s established criteria for genuine visions, such as the plausibility of the message and the piety and integrity of the visionaries. The three prophecies revealed to the children under orders to keep them secret for years raise serious doubts, she says, citing Rahner: “How is it comprehensible that God should reveal certain matters concerning the whole world to a person, in order that this person should keep them secret until after their fulfillment?”
The nature of the Virgin’s messages that were immediately made public are also disconcerting, says Schwebel: “When asked by her parish priest…what the figure had said, Lucia replied that the apparition wanted people to say the rosary, be good and not insult God. Put in the best possible light, this is more in the nature of a Sunday school sermon than a blistering moral insight of prophetic analysis.”
Then there is the fact that the recipients of the Fatima messages, like those at the other seven most popular sightings of the last two centuries, were children whose average age was 9 when the visions began. What, Schwebel asks, was the divine purpose in transmitting vital information for the world to children who, generally speaking, are not considered reliable reporters and are often given to imaginary embellishments? Also raising questions for Schwebel was the famous “dance of the sun” before an estimated 70,000 onlookers at Fatima. Considerable inconsistency and even contradictions, she reports, were present in the eyewitness accounts, no authentic photographs of the event were ever produced, and similar phenomena have occurred elsewhere during high-pitched religious gatherings. The dance, she speculates, could be explained as an optical illusion induced by prolonged staring at the sun or as a collective hallucination or some other less known paranormal manifestation.
Despite her heavy tone of skepticism, Schwebel insists there is no reason to deny the spiritual validity in apparitions and other wonders. “Within the created order, human beings are not ‘merely biological,’ nor is nature ‘merely natural.’ Matter and spirit are open to one another: This is the real miracle. The experience of God reverberates through the whole person, transforming the physical as well as the spiritual.”
Christians, she says, should understand wondrous events “within the context of God’s original, all-encompassing self-communication in grace.” They need to emphasize “questions of meaning, not questions of demonstration. We must ask not how did it happen, but rather what is the significance of the event within the total life of faith.”
The final result is a brief, yet coherent and respectful application of modern scientific analysis to religious phenomena that are important to millions of believers. Robert McClory
Robert McClory is professor emeritus at the Medill School of Journalism, Northwestern University, and the author of Faithful Dissenters (Orbis, 2000). Click here for a sample of author’s writings in America and for books by author at amazon.com. Link to “sample writings” is slow; link to amazon may list books by authors with similar names.”
Hi. I’m just one voice like yours.
Slightly different with similarities.
I’m wondering something very basic.
Why do we all stand still and allow the world to be what it is?
I don’t do anything, mind you, I don’t picket, send letters to Congress, yell at the Pope.
I sit and think.
How about you?
What do you do?
Anything the rest of us might join in on?
We hold on so tightly to this earthly existence. After all, why shouldn’t we?
Yet, as I read and continue to read about different religions, spirituality, ancient thought, the existence of angels among us, etc.; I question, if we are spirits here for an earthly experience, why do we hold so tightly and fear what is beyond and for some us, fear that this is a one time only performance?
Helping to heal, a global humble effort to bring all of us together, some call it the sixth dimension, some collective consciousness, others, simple human kindness.
Humanity’s Team is scheduled for a U.S. event. In light of the unspeakable tragedy in Virginia, Anne Alba and other volunteers, have committed to offering students free housing and admission to this weekend’s Humanity’s Team “We are all One”, with Neale Donald Walsh in attendance.
Obviously, this leap of faith to make this gesture for the students can only come from one place, contributions from those that care and want to see this Society advance.
Any interested: go to Humanity’s Team helping the students in Virginia
Bless you all.
Our Get out of the Box page, as well as Humanitarian Efforts and poetry and writing page are periodically updated. The Open Letter to God page, is a static page, remaining that way to allow for and welcome new comments. It is anticipated that we will update as time goes on to provide more letters to God.
Last night, we received a comment on our most recent post on Get Out of the Box, which we wanted to highlight and share with you today.
We look forward to more comments!
“In the book `Conversations with God’ the author asks why God allows such things as these to occur. God replies by saying, `Why don’t you?’ ( A collective ‘you’ as well as individual). In the course of reading from Mr. Walsch’s and God’s Conversations I begin to see that, while God could do anything, what ‘She’ will do is another thing. We can’t condition The Unconditioned by saying ‘It’ will or won’t do such and such, but it is clear enough, that while we are here, God would like to see US, WE, proceed to do the kinds of things you are aspiring to. WE, with God, can do anything, but it’s like we are be asked to make up our minds about what is important to us, and to behave accordingly. Our eternal lives do not begin at death. If they did, they would not have been Eternal! We are now, even with bodies, amidst our eternal lives- all
A program called Humanities Team is very much involved in helping the planet awaken. It declares `We are One’. You + I + God = ONE. It also declares” Ours is not a better way. Ours it but another way.”
( This name and address ‘cell’ is getting in the way of writing!)
Best to you, me,
I tried to write this post twice before, but started off with “hey”.
Not your choice of greetings?
God, I have to be honest, because whether I am or not, I have a feeling you will know.
I went into spiritual depletion.
I toured and trolled this virtual earth for the right answer to you.
I checked out raw diets and it was only days later, I noted there was little reference to you. Don’t eat sugars because they rot your teeth.
Ok. I’m old enough now to see the wisdom in that.
Yet, you intended for us to have this free food, no?
I don’t eat meat God. Just can’t get the hang of it. Don’t know how to divorce the picture of an animal that has family tendencies from what lands on the plate. Yet I will cook it, for anyone that visits, that needs meat.
I eat seafood. And yes, I stuggle, because there is a huge contradiction in what I believe and what I do. But I have to admit, there were moments in my life where I stuggled eating vegetables because I thought I heard them scream.
I read in one of Sylvia Brown’s books that we don’t have to eat when we pass on, and I resisted that. Now, I’m not so sure why I did as I was afraid that eating vegetables I could hear them while I chewed.
Mark it down to mental deficiency.
Fine by me.
God, I spiraled.
So convinced I was anti-religion that I began to actually seek comfort in what I grew with, Catholic doctrine.
I did something new this week though. I spiraled and crashed and then gave it to you.
I lost a case in Court and I was baffled that no one in the room cared that what occurred was improper and I got in my car, developed a migraine and then stopped…..I had promised to give it to you, no matter what, to guide me. Once I realized that and handed it over again, I smiled and I remembered to thank you for my smile.
So God, I don’t know what to follow. I’m not even good at being faithful to my belief in you. But I’m telling you what you already know, aren’t I?
I need you.
I know that much.
It is reported that “The Vatican and Science agree on a miracle”. The title caught our eye reading the Sunday edition of the New Jersey Star-Ledger.
A meeting of the minds?
A point of commonlity targeting simple truth?
The news reports on a miracle prganancy. In Brazil, a woman was deemed unable to carry a baby due to a wall of tissue diving her uterus. Grossi de Almeida carried her baby boy in a space half the size of an ordinary uterus, and at seven months, he was delivered by Caesarean section.
The mom claims the miracle of her son’s birth is attributable to a “paper pill”, wrich had a prayer written upon it. Now the 18th century Franciscan monk, Antonio de Sant’Anna Galvao, is proclaimed a saint by the Vatican. This was one of two proved miracles needed for the creator of the prayer pill to be canoized a saint on May 11th.
The pill is claimed to have cured thousands in Brazil. The pill has a prayer:
“After the birth, the Virgin remained intact / Mother of God, intercede on our behalf.”
The pills are made in Sao Paulo, Brazil, where local women reportedly get together every afternoon in a room above a cathedral. It is also noted that the pills are made by cloistered nuns at the Convent of Light in Sau Paulo.
In the Star-Ledger version of the story it was written that “believers” take these pill. Miracle healings cannot always be proven. There is a growing trend of thought that the healing which occurs rests in part in the faith of the one asking for divine help. It is tricky to term it that way, because no one wants to blame a person in pain, i.e. you would have received a miracle if you could have just believed a bit stronger.
Science can in fact meet faith it appears.
Other interesting sources and articles on the power of faith and healing:
Once upon a time
A long, long time ago
there was a peach tree
and a village
grew up around the peach tree.
The peach tree watched
the children’s birthdays.
Watched them grow.
the peach tree.
The peach tree
who did not know they
The candles lit
in the homes.
The candles flickered
through the night.
a cold wind blew.
The peach tree
in its roots.
Placed in the ground.
against the sky.
brown limbed fingers
into the ground.
finding how to breath
within the dirt,
I would call out,
growing inside of her.
plucking to be fed,
not even the gift of silence.
drenched into me,
not yet born.
slapping at me.
I must stop this now.
I was taught,
I call out.
the red sky.
I hold on,
I stood beneath
I can see.
I look around
against the sky.
Hi. I’m just one voice like yours.
Slightly different with similarities.
I’m wondering something very basic.
Why do we all stand still and allow the world to be what it is?
I don’t do anything, mind you, I don’t picket, send letters to Congress, yell at the Pope.
I sit and think.
How about you?
What do you do?
Anything the rest of us might join in on?
I ask You
to tell me
I know nothing
my mouth turning
in its innocence
see or hear me
I am a gnat
buzzing at your skin
not drawing blood
I find my way to You
between the shrilling
ringing of the phone
the blare of horns
of the computer
I close my eyes
the veil of darkness
hooking my smallest finger
into the edge
of the fabric
closest to my right eye
a sliver of light
vision to the left and right
at the fabric
my finger grown tired
the light fades
Which movie do I need to cite?
Which news article?
How many crying children does it take?
There are more of us than “them”.
There are multitudes of us that would not harm another like the harm we see on television, in the newspaper, on the internet, in the blogs—-there are more of us………..how can we figure it out?
POST, COMMENT, DO WHAT YOU WILL, BUT SHARE YOUR THOUGHTS….one of you might yet make the difference.
Right, I know, kidding you, yes?
As if you do not know me before my moments of realization.
I laugh out loud God.
I have doubted you, I have doubted you and doubted you.
I doubt you today.
Yet, I always come back to where I think you are, my second voice, my second skin, myself outside of knowing.
I look around Lord, I don’t know what I am seeing.
I don’t know what I am doing.
I watch the news and I cry and I don’t know how to stop.
There are many that would say, buck up kiddo. Get on with it. Maybe I have walked in shoes I don’t wish upon others. Maybe I don’t know how I wound up in such shoes only ever wanting to make others happy, to be a law abiding American.
Maybe it doesn’t matter.
Here I am.
There you are.
It’s me the girl child climbing the highest tree, not sure how to get down, but unwilling to let the neighborhood boys beat me at it. Above the kitchen window of my home, establishing, hey ma, here I am.
I ask for you everyday, every morning upon waking. I see the news headlines of you in the sky, is there a media conglomerate? I see the Virgin Mary, not so Virgin, spread against the sky. I see the celebration of life, tribulation, I see the jokes in the sky. The Celestial Jibjab on-sky.
I see you.
I feel you.
Jump on board. LookSeeSaw.wordpress.com has posted a piece, a humbling reminder of the magnificent hearts of children:
Look See Saw
Wednesday, March 28, 2007
“Seven year old Shane Bernier is a brave cancer patient at CHEO and he is asking people to send him a card for his birthday on May 30th. Shane wants to set a world record for the most number of cards received!”
This text was taken from the website, http://shanebernier.ca/
The address is:
I’ve made two so far and I thought artists might enjoy sending along their own one of a kind cards for this special little boy!
Yesterday, I had a comic relief day.
Many of you may not have wanted to click on the links I provided yesterday, as to be frank, many could consider much of the language or messages objectionable; yet, there is a madness to some of the messages conveyed, we reap what we sow.
So, what is marriage?
Do people today marry for love?
Is it real?
Do people marry for love today?
How many of you out there would easily take in babies while their biological moms worked out or sought help with what they need?
What is the answer?
Where can these aggrieved moms go to now, it’s ok, we’ll watch the babies, remember when a village was considered the parents?
Coffeegrounds.wordpress.com has had many posts dealing with the state of war and our reaction as to the troops of the war.
NPR had a linguist on board yesterday describing that the word troops is dehumanizing and one of his least favorites.
I am a mother, I am a wife, I am a litigation attorney, I am not a captured woman, wife, mother in Iran.
“— Expressionless, smoking a cigarette and wearing a black head scarf that masks her blond hair, video of captured British sailor Faye Turney shows a soft-spoken mother — one of only 12 women in the British navy trained to drive inflatable patrol boats.
The 26-year-old mother was driving the Royal Navy’s boat Friday when armed Iranian troops seized her and 14 others, accusing them of crossing into their territorial waters and unleashing a diplomatic crisis. (Full story)
A week before her capture, she told the British Broadcasting Corp. she understood the risks of her work.
“You’ve got to have it in the back of your head that sometimes you may be called upon and, when you are, you have got to get on with it,” she said aboard the Navy Frigate HMS Cornwall in the disputed Shatt al-Arab waterway between Iran and Iraq.”
I hate war.
I have no desire for conflict.
Sitting at a deposition the other day, legal fees mounting into the hundreds of thousands, a party said something about the state of war.
I said, “This, here, is where war begins.”
Conflict begins in the smallest moments, the ones we feel are vindicated, “I believe you hurt me; therefore, ….”
I now hurt you?
I spoke to a dear friend the other day, upset with events in her life, seeking legal advice and retribution…I wanted to say, I needed to say……..stop……….meditate……..breath……..because negative energy and retribution leads to things beyond our control. And she is the dearest and best of ladies, believe me you. But sometimes when people are hurt and attacked, they have only one habit, retribution.
I’m not suggesting you all sit still and shut up, matter of fact, there is only one thing I am suggesting, take a look at this CNN article, take a look at this one person, divorced and shut off from the world she knows, beyond ability to help herself, at least as far as we know.
Ask yourself, how did we contribute to her getting there?
Yes, yes, I know, most of us are not the politicians or the moneymakers, the freemason power wheelers of the world, but to sit back and let them take all the blame, is for us to admit we have no voice, no say, in how this world evolves.
May God bless you all.
Or, if you are of the Einstein version of God, may you find your answer in the yet unknown expansion of the universe.
I applaud and welcome the many spiritual teachers, motivators that walk around us. What happens though when theory is simply not enough?
Many of us understand the power of language, that if we say “I can”, rather, than “I might”, we carry greater power into the universe, we ask for positive strength to be returned.
Suppose, though, that there are moments or days when changing our language does not change our lives?
When despite what we might say, there are still people starving, there are people abused and attacked, there is such a well of despair, that merely changing language will not change lives?
Is it reasonable that in moments like that, lives like that, people clammor and demand a formula? A tried and true, no returns necessary formula, a simple number: 1-800-fix-us-now………….a solution that works immediately?
We for the most part are spiritual seekers. We seek our own truth, we seek the universal truth, we escape in moments, take a back seat in meetings, and look around, wondering what became of the collective consciousness or the wisdom of the Universe.
Reading Eat, Love & Pray by Elisabeth Gilbert we came across a word at page 203: “Antevasin”.
Ms. Gilbert describes it as follows:
“So I saw it during my last week at the Ashram, I was reading through an old text about Yoga, when I found a description of ancient spiritual seekers. A Sanskrit word appeared in the paragrpah: ANTEVASIN. It means, ‘one who lives at the border.’ In ancient times this was a literal description. It indicated a person who had left the bustling center of worldly life to go live at the edge of the forest where the spiritual masters dwelled. The antevasin was not of the villagers anymore-not a householder with a conventional life. But neither was he yet a transcendent-not one of those sages who live deep in the unexplored woods, fully realized. The antevasin was an in-betweener. he was a border-dweller. He lived in sight of both worlds, but he looked toward the unknown. And he was a scholar.”
I never knew this word before I read it in Ms. Gilbert’s book.
So, suppose instead of focusing on the word itself, Antevasin, we instead go back to what it is? Spiritual Seeking.
In seeking spiritualy, there are those things that fit, those that don’t, some which may fit later and those that grow too small, but the commonality, is the persistant truth.
Today I came across some new search results on the Mayan Prophecies, the end of the world as we know it as of 12-21-12; the reversal of 1 and 2, the combination, 3, 3 and 3. The Law of Time website sheds yet more viewpoints on collective consciousness. I am perplexed again and again, as to how heralded universal truths, the Law of Attraction, doctrines of religion and indisputable points of Science seem to fold in over one another, and repeat like mantras.
So for today, I am satisfied with this word: antevasin. Simply, spiritual seeking needs no explanation does it? Yet, it’s nice to have company on the journey.
We’ve been surfing the net for updates on the state of the people in Gambia who have decided to proceed with the “dream cure”.
Funny enough, the news has dropped off since March 17 and 18 of this year.
We will keep looking, but if anyone has some updates, please feel free to post in response.
We are a non-judgmental site, but beware, by that, we don’t mean we welcome posts of those out to be in a bad mood, or those who haven’t walked an inch in another’s shoes.
What is God?
Who is God?
Is there God?
I grew up in the dogma of religion: yes, a Roman Catholic.
So what that I was the child of divorce?
Oh, my parents could no longer indulge in Communion? But they could put money in the basket?
Ok, I get it (not).
It doesn’t matter.
The evolution of the search for the meaning of God, sprituality, the Light, reminds me of again, yes, thank you NPR, of brain plasiticity.
Many of us come across the stories of the monks that have achieved a different level of brain mechanism than us mere humans, they elevate, in my mind, (my mind only), on a stratosphere that transcends even what I can digest in the written word.
I watched the sky as I drove from work this evening, and I’ll be darned if the sky and his (her) angels were not laughing at or with me, as they read my mind contemplating the levels of meditation and spirtual ascension.
They seemed to laugh at me.
What, you thought we would give you a ladder to climb?
Perhaps a trampoline?
Go back inside of yourself, they seemed to say, you must have a better idea of how to reach us.
So there I am reflecting on neurology and science and God, not understanding half of what I hear, but understanding that there is a commonality, an overlapping, there is a connection, think and it will be done, believe and it is yours.
Good night folks.
What does it mean to say: “I matter?”
Does it convey ego?
Saying “I matter” can be ever so simple. It can convey only this:
If I matter to me
There is a chance
That when you matter to me
We can do great things together.
Conversely, saying: “I don’t matter”
i don’t matter to me
i don’t matter to me
then nothing can matter to me
and if i give you anything
it is less
less than you
what is it
you would ask
matter to me?
On the flip side, I think the answer at this stage of life is quite easy:
I matter. And in so recognizing that, there is more I can do for you.
“Eat, Pray, Love”……………………a lovely let it all hang out spiritual journey of one woman.
Within 2.5 pages, I was hooked. Ironic that I found the book while food shopping after working, more ironic that on my way to the store, I heard on NPR that Anne Lamott has a new book out and I almost made myself purposely take the wrong turn straight to Barnes & Noble to buy the book right away.
Alas, I knew something that good was worth waiting for and my family would probably prefer food over a book. (Hard to believe isn’t it? I try to tell them again and again, words are food, you must only just imagine…….by that point, they have walked out of the room and I’m not even left with a goldfish listening as alas, our last goldfish also grew tired of my soapbox and left for better waters………….).
So I did the right thing, the expected thing and headed to the foodstore…………of course I went to the foodstore that has quite a good book section, and there I found, high up on a shelf, almost daring me to see it, the book: “Eat, Pray. Love” by Elizabeth Gilbert……………….and an endorsement on the front by “Anne Lamott”. See, the Universe was working with me, it too knows that words are food.
This book is not for the faint of heart…
It is not for those that have their feet dug in to a particular religious stomping ground.
It’s a search for only one person’s truth, but I dare you to not find a bit of your own along the way.
Three Cheers for this find! Look below, I’ve pasted in some of the highlights…..
Do you remember the story of the doctor prohibited from practicing medicine because he dared to suggest doctors should “scrub” up prior to surgery?
Well, I’m not sure how all of this comes around.
Surely, I don’t want an individual man in Gambia telling HIV patients they must stop proven medicines that prolong life, to take a herbal/spice concontion his ancestors gave him in a dream……but suppose……….he was right?
We already know what would happen if he is wrong, our media and society specialize in the bad news, I wonder though, what would happen if he were right?
BY NO MEANS DO WE ADVOCATE ABANDONING TRADITIONAL MEDICINE, WE SIMPLY DO NOT BELIEVE, ANY ONE PERSON YET HAS THE ONLY ANSWER.
Do you know what truth is?
Sure, it is a compilation of facts.
Do you know what facts are?
Sure it’s what’s black and white.
Um, that which is darkest.
That which is most white, without being translucent.
facts are that which are darkest and not most translucent, right?
At which point do we divorce perception and its effects from what we regard as facts?
Let me give you a very basic, perhaps insulting example:
How do we live in a world, where anyone, government included, has an excuse to kill others, and we argue over whether it is defined as genocide or a humantiarian crisis?
Have you ever had moments, days, weeks, months, years where you find yourself in spiritual depletion?
It doesn’t matter to me what you believe in, well, as long as it’s not evil, but you find yourself with a lack of faith in God, the Universe, the Laws of Attraction, basically, in yourself.
Sometimes I wonder whether the quest for different religions or different Universal knowledge is really just a search for a quick fix. If it were though, so much truth would not resonate.
I equate spiritual depletion with a physical depletion. Anger or frustration or sadness is coursing through you, shutting down receptors to joy or to experiencing gratitude in the moment.
Then the next stage becomes, if I am so spiritually developed or enlightened, why did I succumb to this emotion?
It’s not easy always recognizing the signs, the build up of small frustrations throughout the day that bring us to a dark place of depletion. The goal is to recognize when your body is telling you something doesn’t feel good. For instance, I am at my best when I am around children in a loving manner: tuning in, smiling, joking, imagining, playing, hugging. I have no doubts as to whether what I am doing is right or if I want to be anywhere else in the world.
Fast forward: I am on the phone with an adversary. The conversation is not developing as I had anticipated. I hear the excuses mounting and need to count to ten to not shout, “Get to the point. Give me the bottom line so we can end this conversation.” I can hear in his tone and the type of words he is using that he is retreating from prior representations and I have no patience to wait out the excuses. My body begins to tighten, my brain begins to darken, in other words, I am not at my best.
I used to fight and rail against these moments of depletion, read more, talk more, jump around more, but I found a simple panacea, a bridge: silence.
Silence allows me not to beat myself up for slipping in my spiritual goals, it allows me to replenish, and another large bonus, it saves the ones around me from having to deal with my depletion.
I find articles pitting Science against God amusing.
Perhaps because I am simple minded.
Perhaps because I figure, Science doesn’t know what is out there so why should the mere word “Science” obliterate God?
Suppose in the end there is no difference?
Many of us may have spent a lifetime
putting out the embers of a fire
grounding a foot
against a lick of red
on a dusty brick
taking a stick
fanning its pulp
extinguishing the air
surrounding the flame
or what it seems
at the moment
while time still stands ahead
A lifetime to obliterate the flames
is it such a suprise
that it may take
more than a nanosecond
to rekindle the fire?
Crouching on bended knee
an elbow resting in the dirt
having circled dug up rocks
pieces of long standing trees
waiting for breath
slowly to exhale
and fan the flame
Are we here again?
First scrotum, and now vagina?
Ok, let me go check on-line, popular, dictionary or encyclopedias, to see if they are horrible, or in fact, medical, scientific words….because I am pretty angry that an author and now three young teens pay the price for the rest of us exercising civil liberties….
“I’m not a potted plant.”
I can absorb, listen, do my “charitable” deed and remain impassive during the onslaught. But whoever said, I had to be a potted plant?
I raise questions, queries, perhaps bordering onto commentary at times, as to spiritual or save me, religious beliefs. The idea is to provoke discussion, to get thinking about the big picture that is so far beyond us most times that we can only see our feet. And yes, yes, life deals us blows that knock us over and we then become grateful for being able to see our feet, let alone the big picture.
Forgive me, I digress.
Why must certain religious persuasions be forced upon others?
Truly, I could care less what you believe, although I do draw the line at using your beliefs to manipulate or harm in any way others.
So why should anyone care if beliefs are in conflict as long as that very basic humanitarian goal is met?
I AM NOT A POTTED PLANT.
I will not just sit and take garbage that you have to believe only one way or the other. If I wake up tomorrow and decide I am one of the starpeople, so be it.
Editor’s Note: These links from the author will take you to some other people who have made it clear that they too are not potted plants:
Let’s suppose, the tears are real. What time period must pass, before the rest of the world accepts it, whether they believe in the Virgin Mary or not? Let me be frank, disclaimer, (do you hear the exclamation points?), we believe in the Virgin Mary, I’m not sure what her name is or if she was/is a Virgin, but I believe it does not matter, I believe, that her messages of kindness and humanity matter.
So, what now, if fast forward, months later, it cannot be disproved that there were actual tears, there in the store in Texas? The owners were not frauds, had no interst in being shot at or sued or disenfranchised, but simply stated what they saw to be their truth?
Does it matter?
Does it effect us?
Does “science” have a different explanation? Is science divorced from divinity?
Is there anything to believe? Does it matter if you do? I truly don’t care what you believe, I applaud simply your right to believe. But take a look, take a look at what I think are probably very good people believing in the goodness of humanity.
See below, not my article, resources are as credited below the title.
Virgin Mary Statue Appears to be Crying
Last Update: Mar 2, 2007 9:48 AM
Posted By: Walker Robinson
Some were calling it a miracle, a statue of the Virgin Mary here in San Antonio appeared to be crying Wednesday, and dozens of believers were stopping by to see it.The statue is at the store A&J Toys and Novelties on Colorado St. on the west side. People were crowding the store Wednesday night to get a peek.
“This is the first time I’ve ever seen anything like that,” one man said.
Water was seen coming from the statue’s eyes.
“I pass by here every day, and it’s just a miracle that it’s happening so close to where we live,” neighbor Delia Ramirez said.
Believers were emotional calling the statue a true blessing from above.
The store’s owner, Amelia Gutierrez, got the statue from Mexico on Sunday, and planned to put it in a raffle. But Wednesday morning, she said tears started pouring out.
“I don’t know if she’s trying to tell us something,” Gutierrez said. “We just have to pray, I guess.”
News 4 WOAI’s Aubrey Mika has been following this story. Click here to watch her report.
If you have questions or comments about this story, or you want to send us a story tip, please email News 4 WOAI’s Aubrey Mika at AubreyMika@woai.com.
Let’s get real.
We don’t get it.
Is there really a monopoly on one man’s thoughts so long ago?
What’s so wrong with the rest of us that we need to live, beholden, to others’ thoughts, of one person’s life?
I am sure at this point you have all seen the news, and at this point, we are all home comfortably, far from the scene of the latest natural disaster.
Yet, look around you, search your heart, even one loss of those close to you, is a universal loss to you.
See this thoughtful blog:
Many, many people I know and know of, speak of new stories, day after day, week after week, of those they love or admire or know of, that have gotten the diagnosis.
Time and time again, most of them are “fit”, non-smokers, etc.
It comes time to pause, what are we missing?
WHAT ARE WE MISSING?
Can we not do a survey and connect the dots? Are there no dots to connect? Why every time someone we know has to deal with this are they unsure where to turn? Traditional medicine? Traditional with alternative rememedies? Strictly mindpower/alternative?
There must be a way to create a web to decipher this issue. There has to be, there has to be, there has to be; because we all need to figure this out TODAY.
It doesn’t matter who is right.
What matters is what we can live with, what we believe, what we can do to lessen the burden on ourselves and others.
The fear of the unknown is vast, which is why we remained married to the past, no matter how scary, and why we skip over today to tomorrow in hopes of what might be.
What truly happens when we stand where we are? When we breath and do not venture anywhere but where we are? How difficult is it to quiet the active mind and in quieting the active mind, is there a mind left at all? What is there then?
I always wondered at this statement. Some people don’t, to them it is simple and bravo for that ability, because they operate on a more clear level.
I have only now found what makes sense:
“Well, I’m no scientist, and certainly I don’t have Carl Sagan’s techinical understanding of the universe and our position within it. I simply believe that there’s a very organic, imeasurable consciousness of which we’re a part. I believe that this consciousness is a force so powerful that I’m incapable of comprehending its power through the puny instrument of my human mind. And yet I believe that this consciousness is so unimaginably calibrated in its sensitivity that not one leaf falls in the deepest of forests on the darkest of nights unnoticed.”
The Measure of a Man, by Sidney Poitier
Why would it matter if it were true?
Why would it be any less of a miracle and reason for faith?
Well: we’ve been told our reading of a blog is wrong and that no one claimed that Jesus wasn’t resurrected………if we misread, so be it, we’re looking for other opinions, to be “right” is to sometimes be blind anyway.
Here’s the original post. We’ll go approve the comment pointing out alleged errors. Anyone else with viewpoints?
Trolling through the tag surfers, we found an interesting article that somehow or other we might have missed if not for this blog…
A story tag reading: “James Cameron Takes on Jesus”.
The story goes, or might go, well, it does go, that Jesus was not resurrected and for over two decades, there has been knowledge that his tomb was elsewhere…we’re going to keep our eye on this blog and see what the press conference reveals today.
Perhaps we could have worded it better, when we said the story goes, we meant the recent news versions……….so apologies for any miscommunication born of poor word choice, ah, yet another argument for having a “word basket”.
For other views:
Who can shed more light on this?
I clicked on this post, do not know the full details or veracity, but after seeing a picture of a cell where a 9 yr old boy is allegedly held, I’m asking anyone out there, do you know what this is about?
I have sat here thinking, on and off, about the realm of possibility.
I wondered as to whether a limit exists as to human expansion.
One book, The Way of the Peaceful Warrior, heralded as part fiction/part truth; still sets forth the inherent possibilities in not just a life, but in a day and in the moments of each day and each breath.
The Pilgrimage, at least to this reader, is also a story of the warrior, but resonates with more God-like spiritual possibilities.
Is there an end to possibility?
Check out the following article and photos as to the “rare heavenly arc”
Outside the borders of America, it is not expression and penalty ensues.
Inside the borders, we fight valiantly as to what means expression and whose right of expression is most prevalent.
Is it really just anyone’s guess?
CNN headlines proclaim: Pastor says he is “God”.
Do the numbers, 666, and God, belong in the same sentence? Empircally, yes, both are 3(s), so is the Holy Trinity. Huh, maybe that’s why it’s reported he has three Rolex watches?
The Church of the non-judgmental. Catchy, no?
Yes, until the stories/rumors of suppression of other faiths.
What is true and what isn’t?
Does the Pastor claim to have the same spark of Divine Light arguably within all of us, the essence of God? Is that what he means?
Does anyone know what he truly means vs. what the media is telling us what he means?
Read it, read it, read it, and tell us your thoughts:
Veggie Tales teaches us that God would give us the power to love our enemies, love, all encompassing light, yes or no? Are there fine lines? Is there room for judgment? You be the judge.
Listen, we are old enough to not suscribe judgment.
We ask you a simple thing, you have orchestrated the formula of addiction, can you now provide us with the tool to non-addiction?
Those commercials you have been forced to make are no more than inducement for those of us inclined to go out and smoke more, because now we feel worse than ever.
But you know this right? You knew the points of our brain to addict us? Is it too much to hope you know how to truly un-addict us also?
We don’t care how much money you make, if you own a private jet or not, you can’t take it with you anyway, we just ask you to truly help us, stop making us feel bad for what you fed us to begin with- “share the secret”-you must know how to undo us, don’t you? We weren’t born wanting to be outcasts and prematurely dead.
My Open Letter to God (Surface Earth: Copyright, 2006)
I’ve been thinking. I’ve been reading, I’ve been studying, I’ve been questioning, obsessive, unable to sleep, unable to breathe, unable to be, trying to figure you out.
I’ve come to a conclusion, you don’t need to be figured out, do you? (Should that be a capital, like we do for judges, You? Your Honor?)
I’ve run away from Catholicism, into which I was born and bred.
I’ve wandered into the lost land of religions I have never known, having never been born into other sects in other lives, at least not that I remember.
I appreciated the old traditions of Catholicism, but could not understand its limitations. I moved to Buddhism thinking it was the furthest from anything I ever knew. I did not understand a word and felt as if an imposter, because instead of understanding the wisdom and inherent intellect of the Dalai Lama, a man who compelled me to want to hang his photograph on my walls for the mere wattage of his smile, I was only able to grasp, again and again, on the words, “loving kindness”.
I moved on to Kabbalah eventually, but first stepped back again into Catholicism. The virtual problem always encountered was my feeling of unworthiness. It did not matter that the pews were lined with hypocrites, thieves, corporate marauders, I only felt and saw my own infirmities, the girl who dared to stray from the righteous path. Oh, how little I yet was to know of Catholicism. Yet, there I went again, backing out the door, as the priest called us to disavow our sisters and brothers who were homosexuals, engaged in love without marriage, divorced or were faced with the soul wrenching choice of abortion. Jesus could not have cared, he could not have saved by condemnation.
I tiptoed into Kabbalah, drawn to the promise of mysticism. I learned to apply everyday behavioral modification techniques to teach myself not to judge. I wavered and stammered and tap danced around that one. Well what is judgment I want to know? When does it begin and when is it justified? Never was the response. Never, how could that be? Where would all of my righteous indignation go? Patience prevailed on my mentor and he kept at the same lesson, anger is dangerous and judgment is unnecessary, again and again. I was a slow learner, I had been through some less than fair situations in life, I wanted to place rightful anger somewhere, if only in my head. I don’t know what got me first, the idea of a vast nothingness of light which scared me and threatened my individuality, my someday to be discarded ego. I was too new to development, I did not understand that they had a point, I did not need my ego. I did learn though the tenants of fostering goodness to one another, daily, moment by moment without hesitation and without end.
I began to grasp the concept of oneness but felt diminished by my inability to truly grow. Was it because it had sprung from a different religious and cultural background and I felt the roots and the language without truly comprehending the origin? Had I fallen prey to negative media? No, in retrospect, my lack of knowledge made me feel smaller and smaller, highlighting my mental and spiritual infirmities, giving power to the bully, “you kidding me? You really believe that garbage? Look around you, there is no God.”
My ego’s need to be sane and rational and respected took over my gut and soul instincts. Was I simply not ready, not strong enough to consider myself part of the collective consciousness? I was humbled in the presence of the mere voice of Kabbalah, all forgiving, all knowing and without judgment. I was not yet strong enough.
I returned to Catholicism and loved the familiarity, the things I had grown with, knowing where to sit in the hard pews, sometimes even knowing the right time to kneel. I no longer worried about whether I genuflected at the right or wrong time, at the right or wrong angle, I simply let my heart bow to God, allowing my feelings of non-partisan spirituality and love of God to take over, feelings of grace, my heart simply lead my knee to bend in gratitude.
Trying on clothes in a dressing room with only one door in and out, faced with Fun House mirrors at three walls, disorientation had overcome me.
I began to read Sylvia Brown and bless that woman, my bones tell me she is the real thing. I began to learn that I could apply Kabbalah principles with Christian traditions I had come to love. The more I read and read and read, the more I saw and felt and lived the repetition of the common theme of love. To have love, is to erase the need for all other needs.
The underlying problem in trying out different religions is choosing to give up that which you have known. If I embraced Kabbalah, would I have to shrug off the mantle of the Virgin Mary and Jesus? I couldn’t, no matter how vast the picture and sensation of infinite light, Jesus’ face remained. And Mary, Azna, Mother God, she lived within breath. I know she is real, please don’t ask me how. I don’t care for statistics and sightings and tests and visualizations. Well, sure maybe I do, my point is simply, that I feel her.
I have gone into spiritual demise. I have watched and read about the Lost Gospel of Judas. Of course! Jesus is all knowing. He knew what Judas was or wasn’t, small surprise that we do not; rest assured, we will continue for monetary, economic, political, social, cultural or any other myriad of reasons to insist on the one interpretation of Jesus. For Pete’s sake, we can’t even remember our own dreams or what we ate for breakfast. Was Judas bad? Nah. Of course not. Why would Jesus choose him to carry out his fate? Did he tell Jesus, “thy will be done”? Jesus could not be tricked or betrayed, that is simply beneath him.
I have invited my arch angels and my spirit guides to come into our home when one of our daughters was facing inexplainable fatigue and headaches. Lights went on an off at different times in our home, certainly not in keeping with a power surge. The television surged and pulsed and practically danced. I asked them kindly to please enter more slowly in a way that would stop scaring me half to death as it wasn’t my time yet. I think they agreed. They are more subtle these last few days. Leaves that blow around the sidewalk out of nowhere, making a staccato beat, drawing my attention and then bowing and dancing. Pure artistry.
There are those that have contributed to the falsity of faith healing. It is unknown why people are compelled. I don’t question the participants that are impoverished, that perhaps received a sandwich, a promise of a bag of rice, a moment of peace before infidels or legitimate governments invaded their families, but how about the one that orchestrates it? Are they any different than a politician? A lawyer? A doctor that has lost heart? A teacher who does not teach? A parent who does not love?
Your truth echoes in the most simple of ways, the warmth that radiates though my bones causing my hands to become upturned to receive grace. It is that simple.
I have no problem, any longer, I can’t say that was always true, but I have no problem any longer not blaming you for what happens to us Lord. False persecution, so what? I should be insulted? We do it to each other everyday. “She cut me off, what a horrible person.” How do I know she was not rushing to the hospital to see a relative who unexpectedly encountered medical emergency? Is there truly any difference? Either one is character assignation and judgment without proof.
Am I religious?
I don’t know.
Do I believe in you?
I believe in You/you, Jesus, the Holy Spirit and Mary. I believe there are saints. I believe there are angels. I believe there is evil, that sometimes there can be no other rational explanation, but I believe evil is our inability to discover our souls.
The sickness of the false messiahs brings bad publicity to you, to Jesus.
There are miracles, there are the unexplainable moments and times that are pure miracles, leaps of faith. Why do people claim that power when its only source has ever been and could only be you? Didn’t you tell us everything is there for our taking, we must only see? Electricity was discovered, not invented, right God?
Now don’t get me wrong. I don’t know anymore than the next person, but I hold certain things to be true. If you say one thing and do another you are hypocritical. If you are aware of it and don’t own up to it, you are a coward. If you gossip, you cause bad air to fly and it will come back to you, and yes, the smallest utterances are gossip. If you speak to satisfy your ego, you will receive less than you desired because you have already lost your state of grace.
How do we sit together in loving Christian kindness and denounce “others”, who, more often than not, are closer to God whether they believe in him or not, simply in acts of kindness and their reliability of spirit?
God, I’m back, I don’t know if I am just chatter in your head or if my voice sings with others.
A bluebird landed in my tree.
He sat high above the purple flowers
Which grew and grew
Although I didn’t even know their name
It did not stop the trees or the flowers from growing
A tulip grew out from behind the
Red dirty rock
Next to the untended cement sidewalk
And a tulip sought to make its presence known
Next to the bend
Of that same untended sidewalk
I tried to unearth it with a shovel
Before the purple of the tulip
The ground would not give
The trees are spreading
Their limbs across the gray
Of today’s sky
Purple, red and pink strewn together
They will not last the storm
Yet they have never been
Than set against the
Mist and the closed sky
“Oh My God”
Not in praise
But in exasperation with my
Confused new to almost middle age ways
I continued breathing
I saw on television
An almost tall white man
You did not star in that show
I held an egg today
To take out the yolk
Because I can’t bear to eat
Someone else’s young
Who was the first to know
That to take the egg from the mother
Would give complete protein
And not kill her
The egg was not an egg
When South Dakota says it is?
In your infinite wisdom
Did you leave us a travel guide?
The best spots
The best words
The best reactions?
Were they rated in stars?
Have you had overzealous editors so now
Your words are no longer yours?
Thoughts on living
I pray today,
Because of you.
Today I missed Mass God.
I awoke at 8:30 a.m. – quite late for me on a Sunday morning. I wanted to go to mass. I felt quite desolate that it had been two weeks since. I awoke as the rest of the house slept, ran out for the Sunday papers, stole a moment to read and drink coffee and left my beautiful family asleep.
I arrived at church and saw next to no cars. The people I saw look accomplished upon leaving. Wait, wait, I thought, I am unfinished, I have just arrived.
I hurried in the door, stopping to glance at the greeting table, a lovely polished wood that seemed to hold all I would need to know to be a practicing Catholic in this town.
The lovely newness of this church, the beginning of the mass, to walk though this room of grace and openness and splendor with just one table with papers, and newsletters and charts upon which to fill your name—if you are lost, we can find you, it seemed to say. So I believed.
I walked to that table, because I had seen it before.
I was no longer worried if I dipped my hand too soon into the Holy water, if I genuflected before I should or at the wrong angle, and that thing everyone seemed to know how to do in their sleep, that three point wonder, the thumb dancing across their forehead, their middle face and their heart? I no longer worried if I did it right. “Peace be with you.” “And also with you,” I said from my heart, with my hands turned up to God with arms outstretched.
I still did wonder sometimes though how I was never taught that three point wonder. How could I have missed it all of those years? Sure, I didn’t go to parochial school daily but I attended Catechism classes, I took the nuns seriously even as I walked along the rock wall outside of St. Anthony’s afraid they would see me, the sinners’ child, the divorced one.
How could it be, all those Saturday evenings at St. Brendan’s, mandatory Saturday evening mass with dinner at Howard Johnson’s afterward, my grandfather singing Louis Armstrong so I didn’t know where the jukebox began and his voice ended? My grandmother daring to order dessert after picking through cottage cheese and fruit for dinner, taking 45 minutes longer than the rest of us to finish her meal? My brother and I climbing in and out and over and under the table, and my grandmother sitting there, unperturbed, seeing only her little world. How could that be?
Because we see what we see Lord,
What we choose to see.
None of us are right or wrong.
I simply went to Mass to tune in to you.
Did you know I started to go to healing masses? Yes, I felt much like my debacle mass after mass with the three point gesture and became further indignant that no one ever taught me how to pray the rosary. Thank you for letting us discover the Internet, where I looked for remedial Catholicism courses.
Yes. I went to healing masses. Yes, I watched the news. I know the media was not supporting miracles, but listen, I saw them for myself, ok? The sweet surrender to the Holy Spirit, coming back from the ground lying prone, the flood of tears after a blessing, the tears uncontrollable for ten or fifteen minutes. Did you know Lord, it was only after the Mass that I learned of Padre Pio and the flood of tears? All the priest said to me is “let you be flooded with happiness”, and I cried and cried, my right arm shaking, unable to wipe away or stop the tears. I knew then Lord, I knew to stop fighting the miracle of you, despite the fact of not being surrounded by anyone who believes. The more I thought God, the more I knew, I never should have needed the flood of tears, I should have just seen the less than loving actions of my contemporaries to know there must be something higher.
I still missed mass that day Lord and have not returned regularly since then because you live in me, I don’t mind joining in, but I won’t condemn in prayer. Did you make me forget to turn the clocks?
I woke up flat God.
I woke up uneven.
Doesn’t make sense does it? How can I be flat and uneven at the same time? Did you know it was heresy to state that the world was round? That’s what we are when we are even, Lord, we are round, circular, without beginning or end.
Today I stayed quiet through my flatness. I didn’t take it out on anyone. It was a big day for me.
Did you ever jam to music? Let your arms fly about and get lost and by getting lost get found? I know, they say you are Light. They say you are all encompassing and can be nothing and everything at once, but by being everything you also become nothing as we know it.
I think though Lord, that you might be dancing, your face turned toward the light, and not just only the light itself. I hope I get no hate mail from saying this, but I believe you sing and dance, and I think your voice might be slightly off-key.
My mind shifted to the right
At first I thought
That I was lightheaded
Sugar balance off
I blended with the air
There was no distinction
Not gray against white against green
Not blue against the yellow of the sun
My mind shifted to the right
I felt the quiet pleasure of
Pushing that space away
I wondered and worried
Not knowing what it meant
I stood there n the kitchen
The coolness of the counter against my hand
My mind shifted to the right
If I smelled the lilac
In the hall
And no one was there
Would I be wrong?
If I dreamed of a big open book
With golden edging
A dove flying from its middle
Tendrils of ivy from its beak
Would I be wrong?
Good evening God.
I feel like sometimes I need a sabbatical from my brain. I don’t feel that way right now, well, not entirely, but I would like a sabbatical for the blocks I have put in my mind that keep me from seeing how to grow.
How to devote my life to writing, creativity, art, the continued search and study of spirituality, gardening, playing with the kids, quiet meals with my family, simply loving my husband.
It’s as if I spent this earthly life with a purpose of building fences to keep myself from expanding from my soul. And on top of that choose to be a litigation attorney, joke is on me, right?
I live in the abyss of heavens
In the valleys on earth
Striving for the moments
I sit in a crowd
Of those who judge and ferment
And never do I hear the word “God”
I scratch my head and wonder
Why I don’t have the answers
When I was raised to have the answers
Was to be defenseless
I scratch upon the table
To tell me
Who is cheating whom
Because there is no sense in frowning
Jesus loved all
Who am I
To love less?
Asking for a sign
Receiving one after another
I share and am met with disbelief
M grandfather standing in the parking lot
Of the local foodstore
Watching me pull out of my parking space
But waiting first
To make sure
The elderly couple next to me
He stood there
I thought scowling at first
Preconceiving me to be
A young whippersnapper
He pushed down his cap
Hooked his index finger
To his thumb
It’s ok, kiddo
Ten years gone from this earth
Letting him go.
I have tried
To take care of those
He left behind
I have, haven’t I?
Haven’t I tried?
Didn’t I try
Can you read me?
Why don’t I talk to you? Wouldn’t it make more sense? Why do I send you a letter? Am I really that worried that too many others are begging at the same time?
We humans are like ants scurrying for the hills, knowing the big human feet are above us and can stamp us out for no reason at all, but continuing our predictable patterns to the end.
Where do we begin and end Lord?
Is it with the talking animals? Do we save those we respect and slaughter the others? Even if that means expanding the definition of our fellow brothers and sister?
I’m sorry, but I just don’t get it, no one has given us the text book of the earth, and if they have, we’ve borrowed and copied and altered and destroyed and have left only those pages that suit us.
How can I sit in my lush home on a Sunday morning and see a young girl in Dafur, a photograph in time spread against my kitchen table, of a young girl raped? How can I possibly go on with my day when a child, only one, has been shot in the foot by those same rapists, tattooing her for the fate ahead? How can I possibly bear my own privileged existence?
There must be answers somewhere. I’m simply not clever or learned enough to find them, but I know they are here.
All my life, all I have ever wanted to do is write, primarily, to get people to understand humanity, that we are all one. That there is no beginning and no end and what you do to my brother or sister, you do to me. Lines of politics, sex, national origin, religion, are simply just excuses for us not to help one another.
Did you know this is my land Lord? The land stolen is now ours? The one they want to build walls around so starving children can remain starving? Who is wrong Lord? Us or them? Or me for even fashioning a question that includes an us and them?
Can I ever wirte Lord without worrying that what I write is not worthy? Or what I write will not be misconstrued, pulled into something that was never intended? A plaything for my unintended audience? Do I dare to be silent the rest of the years You have given me here? Is that my lesson? To shut up and be quiet and hide in the face of so much atrocity? To suffer it, a self inflicted martyr? Or a willing accomplice?
Many of the ones who seek to do justice in this world dispense judgment, right or wrong, without regard to the injustice they hand out, is that right Lord? Does one balance the other? I know it doesn’t but I watch the news and no one cares, even me, as I stop at the food store stocking up for my family and my family alone.
At any rate Lord, you know me, right down to the center of my soul, far removed from my heart, lower, deeper, higher, more shallow, everywhere and nowhere. Simply almost undetectable here on earth-you know what I’m about. You know I’d love more guidance, a simple how-to book to make the world better, but heck, I’m 39, in earthly standards, I’ve been waiting awhile and it’s not here. Help me Lord. Just give me a list. Tell me how to stop the hurting.
God is here. God is here. God is here.
Allow him to use you.
Without those words, myself and many like me would be lost. How do you meander through a day? How do you forget the grace of each miracle that gives you a day?
God has spoken and he has said that you should love and show forgiving kindness.
This same statement echoes throughout the majority of all religions, why then, are we so lost? What is there to figure out? Forgive and forget. Continue to love. Leave anger at the door. It never means that we go back for more abuse, nor does it mean that we gossip or cause harm to others, no matter what they may have done to us. We move on, in loving kindness.
Has there been a moment when you have simply shaken your head? Forgotten where you are in the script, where the director left off and the actors took over? I doubt that. Free will. Really, just two words, but oh so powerful. They give us both ownership and liability, the two never to be divorced.
I have seen you and felt you, both in the moments when people watch and what they don’t. As cool as it is Lord to say I love you, people still look askance and wonder if someone loving Jesus is just a freak who doesn’t have a job.
Can you help us?
Hi God. I woke up again today. It’s a lovely day. Thank you.
What do we do? As we wait? We start up blogs, we look for people of similar interests to join together and get ideas going, get momentum tha will have any chance of actually accelerating into anything close to a change.
The format isn’t perfect, we would need money to do that, but it’s a start, why not help each other within zipcodes? Why not strengthen from within and move out?
no, not my words. just a shared feeling. wanted to put up the YouTube link to the video, just not sure it’s not copyright infringement.
Watch it, however you can, whatever is legal: John Mayer: Waiting on the World to Change
Then tell me, why is it that we are waiting?