Is it any wonder?
Is it any wonder?
There are times when I think that the struggle to develop into a decent human being is like trying to ride a wild horse and tame it. You can hold on and try not to let the horse throw you, or run away with you. There are times when all you can do is to hold on for dear life. Reactions can be like that, instinctive stances of self protection that in many cases are not needed and can do great harm to others.
People, who are truly good (according to others estimation), know that they are in reality not that at all. Self awareness brings to light the irrational reactions that make up a large part of our humanity. Our ability to reflect and observe our inner world, is both a gift and at times can feel like a curse, for it brings with it deep inner conflict. There are moments of maturity and true goodness, and then there are the other times when controlled by fear, anxiety, or anger, we can do or say things that later on we wonder what came over us.
Lives can be lost or ruined by our primitive instinctive reactions; which were once needed, but now are a hindrance most of the time. Is it any wonder so many are depressed and give in to addictions? Self medicating is not good, but what would happen if this escape were not available? Also fatigue, which is common place; perhaps much of it is from the inner hidden struggle that most of us have to go through on a regular basis.
It is not all bleak of course, for we also have the ability to love and to share with others. These events can lead to healing. The more we love, give and help others, seems to be the most powerful way to balance out the more primitive “me first” mentality that leads only to isolation and who knows, for many, prison.
Perhaps or path in life our main purpose,
is simply to learn to be gentle, loving and forgiving,
towards the horse we are riding.
The corner
The corner
Fear causes withdrawal from new experiences.
Anxiety over what may happen is a good jailer
and anger, the kind that 'cuts off the nose to spit the face',
is the cement that can build a very small corner.
What we share
What we share
One way to help alleviate the pain caused by others is to think about them without rancor; to see them in the light of what is shared. We all have a past that has some pain and sorrow connected to it. This does have an affect on how we relate and respond to others, but also how others will respond to us. To understand that our enemies suffer the same way we do, may not improve the relationship, but it can lead to some empathy, which will lessen the power that we allow our reactions to have over us.
People should not be punished because we don’t like them, or because they belong to some group or religion. To love our neighbor as ourselves takes the ability to see deeply into our souls and not flinch at what we see. Self knowledge cancels the need to project our pain, darkness and whatever else we dislike about ourselves onto others. When it happens to us, hopefully we can empathize with those who hate or dislike us. This is not easy, but the more this is accomplished the freer we become and the less we cause suffering to others and also we can become free from the pain that others can cause us.
Bringing to the center
Bringing to the center
Love’s roots are deep,
Entwined deeply in the soil of life;
Absorbing pain,
Healing wounds,
Drawing together that which was lost,
Embracing the unlovable,
Bringing to the center those lost on the fringe,
Drawing them back into community,
To the center, giving them life, and acceptance.
When it happens
When it happens
Trust comes into play when our naive ideas about God are faced,
and life is understood as a journey filled with meaning,
though it is often a hard and lonely road for us all.
Abba was the word Jesus used for God,
He trusted in his Abba even when the chalice was not taken away,
he drank it to the full;
easy no,
trusting yes.
Aging process
Aging process
I think most people come to a place in their lives when things are taken away from them. Not so much by other people, but simply by the aging process. Driving is more difficult, energy levels drop, perhaps it is noting that the mind works differently and on some occasions not very well. It is really impossible to cling, because it is gone (whatever it is) before it is noticed. Attitude towards this development is important and I would suppose ones view of life also helps how old age is either embraced or resented. I am of course writing about myself, it is beginning for me, old age, though I have been at this point for perhaps three or four years. Health problems are increasing and it is a wonder how easy it is to get sick! To fight, or to let go, or not the only two options. Perhaps to accept and to do what can be done gently is the best way, or perhaps it is the best way for me. Faith is not about 'pie in the sky', no, it is about understanding that there is one life and what we do here is in some way a preparation for what is to come. So the pains and frustrations of aging can be a spur to patience, leading to making conscious choices about letting go of ways of doing and being that did not work in the past, and will certainly not work now.
Little bits of disipline
Little bits of disipline
I do know people who seem to be very consistent in how they live out their lives. I don’t mean in a directional sense, but in how they seem to schedule everyday along the same position and flourish. They are disciplined, focused and walk in fast quick steps throughout the day. They have set times for study, prayer, work and to put it mildly, do not waste time. Well the above is not me at all though I have little bits of it I guess, for I do get through the day and for the most part get things done. To tell you the truth, I would prefer to just sit and read all day long. So many books, so little time, it is aggravating.
A gentle man
A gentle man
I find it amazing the weight people carry within themselves. I know it is common, for we each have our own burdens and sorrows and wounds that we carry. Along of course with the joys of life, that is mixed into the human journey. I talked with a man yesterday for a short time; he was elderly and had a gentle look about him. He lost his wife two years ago, cancer, and he was still grieving of course. They were married for 50 years and as he talked I could feel the longing he had to see her again, perhaps to hold her and tell her one last time of his love. I could tell he was a quiet man who was not used to showing deep emotion, though he was also gentle and kind. So his tears said a lot about his heart and his love for his wife. He was quiet, she more outgoing, so they were a good couple. He told me that he never found fault in her though of course it took work for them to have a good relationship….they talked a lot he said. He mentioned to me a prayer that he offered when he found out that she had cancer. In the prayer, which was a selfless one, he told the Lord that if it was her time he would let her go; all he asked is that she would not suffer. A short time before she died, the last day she was able to stay at home, she asked her husband to forgive her of any selfishness on her part in their marred life. He told me he was astounded that she would say such a thing. I responded, her seeking forgiveness only brought to light her deep sensitivity and love for him. She was able to go the hospice that belonged to the Dominicans Sisters, whose sole mission was to deal with those dying from cancer. She was there a week and died peacefully when she was alone. It would look as if she waited until the family was gone, before she finally let go. She also died without pain.
Fifty years was not enough,
there never is when speaking of a loved one,
for time flies when happy,
though after they go
time slows down.
Love has its price
one well worth the cost;
for a heart alive with emotions
is better that one cold
and constricted with bitterness,
or fear of what love offers.
Love and loss cling together,
even if emptiness felt in all its sorrow,
connections are never lost,
and healing will come again.
Lord, Lord
Lord, Lord
It goes deeper than just saying ‘Lord, Lord’. The heart is seen only by God, for the rest of us it is a closed book that cannot be opened. For Christians, Jesus is the incarnation of God, yet we can often make him into a tribal deity, tamed, placed on a pedestal, and used to punish those we hate, dislike, or find embarrassing to have around. Who can understand the nature of infinite love? My mind closes down and becomes silent when I try to delve into this mystery of human freedom and God’s pursuit of his children.
The day (talk on grief)
The day
(talk on grief)
People remember when it happens. That day, saved from the oblivion that most of our days are destined for. It was the day that we thought we were dreaming, when in fact it was when we woke up. When what was once inner warmth, a living presence- loved and perhaps taken for granted….thinking it would be forever… was gone. Perhaps that inner emptiness was first felt as numbness, dreamlike; a protective covering to keep the feeling of being abandoned at bay. Life went on around us and perhaps it was wondered, how this can be; something left the world today, something dear and close, important and vital to me, how can the world simply go on.
From the moment I was notified of my mothers’ death, in May of 1983. All the events that took place after that for the next 24 hours are branded in my soul. As I was being notified, I could see the texture of the world changing before my eyes. When I put down the phone, I was a different person than the one who answered it. I knew that my mother was going to die soon, but I doubt being really ready and prepared is all that common when that time actually arrives.
I was grateful that I had time to prepare, time to mend our relationship; for at times it could be rocky. I called my mom every week and I never argued with her, always made sure that she was loved by me and would not let her know of my anxious concern over her illness. So we laughed and joked and also talked about death and God. She was not afraid of death and that was a comfort to me.
Grief is just as much apart of life and joy, love, anger and rage. I like to think of grief as one of the ‘darker’ colors, while those that bring us happiness as the ‘lighter’ ones. When we experience the ‘lighter’ tones of life we do not question for the most part. Why is there such beauty and joy in life? These seem to be no need for answers. We may nonetheless have some slight feelings of fear, the inner knowing that it can be taken away at any time, though this is often repressed and for good reason. It is the ‘darker’ times, when the ‘blacks and reds’ are prominent, that we are thrown back on ourselves. It is in the dark painful times, that we question and wonder and yes in the end make some deep and important choices.
Grief, when it is finally felt in all its force, can for many drain all color out of life, making everything seem pointless and dead. There is no right way to mourn and I find it interesting that people, who have perhaps gone through the pain of the loss of a loved one, can themselves be insensitive about how someone else mourns. Perhaps it is too painful for some, or that the reminder of our own mortality engenders too much anxiety and fear. No we each mourn differently and no way more correct or healthy than any others. Of course there are cases wherein help may be needed, but that is something more rare than one would expect.
It is when we suffer that we choose, perhaps against what we are actually feeling. Whether to choose to move deeper into faith and trust, or on the other hand, to go in another direction altogether, is something we have to do. I am of course speaking in having trust in the process we call our lives and an ever deepening openness to God and his love. There are no easy answers and I do not believe it is healthy to seek one out. In any case, perhaps there is not answer that would help even if it were given. It is our faith that can give us a light, no matter how small, to navigate the darkness.
My dad lived another 20 years after my mom died. He remarried a wonderful woman, who I loved and jokingly called “my wicked-step mother”. She was different than my mother and I think that was good. The second marriage was different and they traveled a great deal together and spent a lot of time visiting the ever growing family with many new births over the years. After my mom died, I made a pact with myself to get to know my dad more. So I talked with him on the phone often and when I went home I would always stay with him and my step-mother. My dad in 2000 had a stroke which partially paralyzed his left side. I remember one day asking him if he was afraid his death or that of my step-mother. I asked this because my step-mother was a few years older than my dad and was worried about him being alone again. He responded kindly and said this to me:
“Son, I am not afraid to die, and your step-mother and I know it is not far off. Now I don’t want to die, for I have many grand-children and great-grand children that I love and would hate to leave….be at peace, neither of us are afraid”.
That conversation gave me a great deal of comfort of course. In Aug of 2003, I called my dad as usual on a Saturday morning. We did not talk about much, but we always enjoyed the time. As we hung up I told dad that I loved him and he responded in kind. Three hours later, my brother Craig called and told me that Dad and a cerebral hemorrhage and was brain dead. They kept him on a respirator for awhile, but then took him off. When I called the ER it was then I learned that he was actually dead. Again the world stopped and the texture became a bit darker for me.
My dad’s body was given to science, so there was no funeral. We had a memorial mass about two weeks after he died. The morning of the mass, as I was getting up in my motel room, which was by the way a non smoking room, I smelled a great deal of cigarette smoke. My dad was a big smoker. As I sat there and smelled the smoke, I simple said “Hi dad thanks for stopping by”. Then it was gone and I prepared for mass.
Life is a gift, and it is love that fills our lives with the ‘lighter’ colors…. colors that heal and give life its texture. Our families, our friends and those we simply know and love, for there are many ways to love, is what gives our life its meaning. For those who have faith, the love of God is also central to that mix. Then we lose them, it is the way of the world. Well it seems we lose them. In a world that is temporal and where we are truly pilgrims, these loses can led us to make truly conscious’s choices of faith and trust in God. All of our loves point to the one love that is eternal, and in that eternal is found all of those who have gone before and indeed are still with us.
There is only one body of Christ, there is no separation, and they have only gone in higher and deeper as C.S. Lewis would say. No, it is not easy, but we are pilgrims and most of us will experience grief in its many forms as we move towards our own exit from this world. All we have is our love, that is what we take with us, all else is dross. That is why it is important to again, make conscious acts of trust in God, for faith contrary to what many in our culture will say is not for the weak. It is easy to sink, harder to swim up stream, know all the while that we are in the arms of a loving creator and this life as beautiful as it is only the first part of our pilgrimage.
From my perspective
From my perspective
Many years ago when I was in my mid 20's I worked in construction for a short time. I had a low paying job just cleaning up after the construction crew for 8 hours a day and yes you could call the job boring. One member of my crew spent most of his time trying to get out of work, moving around hiding from the boss etc. Now from my perspective he was making his day a lot harder, would have been easier if he just worked, just did it and went home at the end of the day. Well he was fired in a few days so the problem was taken care of for him, he did not have to work anymore or worry about being caught; he just had to do it for free I guess.
Understanding and forgiveness
Understanding and forgiveness
People often think that humility is something that makes us meek and quiet and always telling everyone how little or worthless or unworthy we are! That is not humility..... humility is a virture that is based on being able to face the truth about ourselves and to not back away from it. I suppose being sick is quite a test, and also for those who are caregivers, since they see both the best and the worst of the one they are taking care of on a daily basis. Yes taking care of someone is a very deep and intimate relationship that can bring healing to both parties, because of the need for understanding and forgiveness on both sides, since the strain of caregiving and the stress of being taken care of can stretch both parties to the limit. Once forgiveness and empathy enter a relationship, it is hard for that relationship not to deepen and grow, since both parties will have plenty of times to practice it! Empathy allows one to see the other side and by being able to do this makes forgiveness easier than it would be otherwise....well maybe forgiveness is not possible unless humility (self knowledge) comes into the picture so understanding is possible. In any case being a caregiver has been a challenge for me and a real blessing as I am sure it is for all who care for the needs of others.
Vessels of healing
Vessels of healing
People often talk of the cosmic battle that goes on between good and evil, as if it is somewhere else apart from our own lives. As if forces outside of ourselves were seeking us out. Perhaps there is truth to that; however it is the human heart, each one wherein the battle takes place. As we age, I feel that the interior battle increases, though the development of habits or virtues over the course of life is one our main defenses against the irrational and destructive that lay within. Our cultures I believe mirror this irrational component of ourselves back to us. We are responsible for the state of the world, people, not institutions which are used to fulfill the desire for power and control over others, by whom (?) well by people of course. To blame some group, be it religious or political for the woes of the world is a cop out, a failure to understand what lies within each heart.
Sin, the failure to live according to ones conscience is real and the harm and chaos that it causes is a reality that many would like to deny. I am a sinner, there is much in me that is irrational, violent and fearful and anxious. Sin is an attempt to control life by running from it, yet in the end, the fruit is terrible and it shows in how our actions and laziness affect the culture around us. To seek to escape the reality of life through the running from the inner pain, in the end, only increases our sorrow and alienation.
Mercy, given freely, allows us always to begin again and again if necessary. The main sin, or temptation, is to simply give up, when that happens there is only despair and a self created hell that ceases to love or care for self, or others. It is never too late to start, each moment a new beginning, for the mercy that calls is infinite and the love of God is without depth or ending. When we actually understand what this mercy is, and its cost, then we are healed on many levels and then we to can become of vessels of healing and mercy for others. No need to look down on others; for then they all becomes our brothers and sisters on the way who simply have the same struggles we do.
God, religion, tradition and spirituality
God, religion, tradition and spirituality
I have been interested in God all my life and as far back as I can remember, trying to develop some sort of relationship with this greatest of mysteries.....which is common enough I guess in the over all population. As we age our understanding of God and our inherited traditions can change and deepen or wither and die, I suppose it mostly depends on our earliest experiences were and how we dealt with them. In any case not to move forward is to either slip back or to push off in another direction altogether.
Many people as they get older seem to move away from the "God" question and just live out their lives and follow whatever religious tradition that they grew up in. This can be a very good thing since it gives them a place to work from, and some direction on how they should relate to others, and also insight into the problems that come up that is common in all of our lives....also it needs to be mentioned that their faith gives them, and I guess all of us, a real sense of community and support, which goes a long way in helping deal with the ups and downs of life. So their faith is the background on which they live their lives some on a deeper level than others. However not much reflection is done by most in this group since the questions that they had are answered and nothing more is needed....which can be a good thing if they don't become too narrow and dogmatic in what they hold to be true.
Some grow in becoming deeply rooted in their faith path, through study, and are a great help to those who need to understand certain things about their traditions; these people can be good spiritual directors to those who wish to grow in their relationship with God by using the theology and tools used by their particular faith expression, and can also be a support when they enter the "dark night of the soul" experience and need to move beyond a static idea of God. They are deeply anchored in their faith and through their mediations and prayers grow into very wise and caring people.
Others who study become more "liberal" I guess..... Don’t have any other word for it.... and they try to incorporate their learning and experiences into their faith tradition. They may be less literal in their interpretation of scripture, become more inclusive in their understanding of how God works in the world, and because of that they my seek support from like minded people from other traditions who think along the same lines as they do. This group is also more open to doubt and use it to deepen their faith, and while it tends to be very broad in scope they still identify themselves with the religion that they grew up in.
Others move away from their religion altogether and become "spiritual" and draw from other systems of spirituality, or become agnostic or atheistic in their understanding of how the world just "is". These people can at times be difficult to dialogue or debate with, since 'some' of them have moved in one of those directions because of their past experiences, which causes them to remain closely chained to their past by their anger or strong negative feelings for the faith of their youth. Funny how anger does that, we would like to flee what angers us but in the end that strong emotion is the deepest kind of intimacy, not much different really from love at least in its binding power. I am not downplaying the pain that these people go through and I hope that those who find themselves in this dilemma will be able to find peace and healing. I suppose most of us carry some wounds from our past association with our faith, so it is easy to have compassion and empathy for those whose wounds go so deep that it has driven them away from their particular childhood religious community.
Now those who take the above path out of true conviction usually are easier to talk to and are more open to dialogue since they do not carry the anger or wounds that keep them bound to their past. The may still be knitted to the faith community of their past in some way but not chained.
Now I know that people cannot be boxed in to simple groups like the above but I think for religious people one of the above may be the main focus on their unique faith journey. I don't think one is better than the other since God's grace is operative and growth happens, just in different ways. The problem comes when the above groups cluster and look down on the others, for it is a common human fault to try to find some way to shine above "those others" who are not following the true path. This is a shame since balance is needed by all and one way of doing that is too simply to listen and learn from on another.
Really all it really boils down to is different personality types and also past experience etc. I don't think we are all that free to choose on how we relate to the world and others (though I think we have the choice to grow in understanding of others or choose not to), so it is useless to denigrate others who are different than I am. It all comes down to being able to ask the right questions and being able to listen in the right spirit, so to speak. Of course this is easier than it sounds and I do fail sometimes, hence the reason for this post, since I am writing about my own issues in some of my post and I suppose this is one of them.
Prejudices
Prejudices
I do have prejudices. They are seeds planted in my unconscious when young. Often in a fashion unknown to those who were the planters. They are like little irrational children who come to full bloom when I am angry, tired or out of sorts in some way. I try to keep these ‘children’ close, or they will play tricks on me and have done so in the past.
If these inner prejudices are allowed to mature, they become bigotry, which is something different all together and evil. A bigot’s pre-judgments, that are believed to be true without any doubt, are serious business and can be dangerous to the group hated, be it religious, racial or gender centered I am not sure there are people out there without prejudices, but there may be. So if you are reading this, or several of you are doing so, please be patient to the rest of us who are just trying to keep aspects of our inner irrational child in line……
We become what we consciously, intentionally, believe to be true. That does not mean that at all levels the irrational will fall in line. To know ones nature can stave off the influence of our primitive, irrational, inner self’s, which is not to be confused with who we really are and or what we truly desire to be.
Things not always what they seem
Things not always what they seem
In the end Christ was killed, he lost, his disciples scattered. So where is the power of this love? A seed has been planted, it grows on its own, and how this happens I do not know, yet Christ kingdom is growing, slowly and at times it may seem hidden. Yet “Christ lives” is still proclaimed, his love in the end did triumph, for he forgave all before he died. Things are not always what they seem and in the end there is a choice... to believe which is often the hardest thing, or to become cynical, easier I believe, with a lot of support from our modern culture. We live in the world we actually believe in, one with meaning or not, with God or not, with love or not. We can be merely meat, or creatures made in the image and likeness of God. Human failure can lead to cynicism, though self knowledge of what one is capable of can dilute that and perhaps lead to compassion for our species, which at times really does seem not to know their left hand from the right. I of course share that tendency.
Indifference
Indifference
Lack of love, does reduce the unloved into a thing, perhaps something below contempt that is also hated and despised. Or perhaps lack of concern would be a better word. The opposite of love is not hate as is commonly supposed, but indifference. There is no relationship with something that does not have substance for the observer, for things are lifeless without feeling or value. There is a freedom that comes with apathy, though the cost is ones humanity in the end. For it is in loving that we become fully human, and to love as Jesus loved is to become free, a state in which love flows naturally from the heart of Christ into the hearts of those who seek to grow in that love. Other traditions also show ways in which the diginity of others is not lost.
Soul breathing
Soul breathing
\When Jesus saw the Samaritan woman at the well, he certainly related differently to her than was what was considered normal and proper. I suppose for some his actions were disreputable. He simply saw her, accepted her, loved her and conversed in a loving and respectful manner, even though he knew her life was not of the pious sort. Perhaps she felt for the first time in her life as a person in her own right, without all the labels that can keep us all in tight fitting boxes. Maybe her soul could breathe for the first time in the presence of this man. In the end, Jesus’ love touched her deeply and spread to the village as well. What if Jesus acted according to the normal way? Well I would guess absolutely nothing would have happen, relationships would have remained closed and that would be the end of that. The women would be seen as a ‘Samaritan’ and not only that, as one that was living a life not in accord with the moral norms of society. So not loving, not seeing, nor interacting, leaves people isolated and in groups that do not get along and even hate each other. So perhaps, it could be said that one aspect of the commandment that Jesus gave his disciples could be said also this way: “to see others as I see them”.
Koan like
Koan like
I am not sure I have reached the point of loving myself, so that I can love my neighbor as myself…. now to go a step further, to love with the heart of Christ (to love as Christ loved), well that is mind boggling, even Koan like in its challenge to rational linear thought. Perhaps the way to look at this is that God is a “Thou” just as we are “Thou’s&rdquo ;. It is not about doing, as much as relating, the union of hearts and minds and wills. This for most of us is a slow, life long process, with many failures along the way, to simply be open to the love that Christ offers each of us, as we make our way through life. Perhaps another way to say it is that for Christ people were not objects, but beings endowed with infinite dignity, since they are all made in the image of God.
Graciousness
Graciousness
It is easy to win, harder to lose. Winners can be gracious, but if they lose, well more often than not they do not want those who are number one to be condescending to them. Graciousness from the standpoint of being the best is seldom given with true regard for those who come in second…. of course there are exceptions. True graciousness is possible from a superior advantage, if it flows from the knowledge that things are easily reversed and in the end hierarchies matter little. Those who are truly cordial, have a level of humility that lets them know, that there are those who are better than them but in a position of less power in the scheme of things. This knowledge allows them not to be threatened by others, hence their attitudes are true and there is no condescension towards others. We all know when we are being talked down to and in all of my years of living; I have met no one who enjoys this experience. Humility is the only safeguard from this insult towards others. Self knowledge and the understanding of the true scheme of things, allow the living out of the Golden Rule possible. If not, it is all a masquerade party. Plastic smiles and insincere handshakes…..sort of like what politicians are famous for doing……thou gh again, there are exceptions in this also.
So I am sure some are thinking……o k Markey, do you live up to this, or are you a fraud? Well I think that if I did live up to what I am writing about, there would be no need for me to visit this topic. So the answer is sometimes I actually do, but perhaps less than I would like. Am I a fraud, no, for being a fraud takes a deeper level of self awareness that I actually have.
The fruit
The fruit
My faith is the same, but like everything in the world it changes, grows and expands. I am not sure I even want certainty anymore, for the actual unknowing, the seeking and yet keeping my faith seems to be the way that I need to go. I think a tree is judged by it’s fruit, so if my path does not lead me to greater compassion and empathy for my fellow man then I need to look at my ‘faith’ and perhaps seek something else. Unflinching certainty when it is taught by any group, usually leads to violence if it is taken far enough. A simple reading of history, both ancient and modern will bring to the fore the horrors we as a species can rain down on each other.
Soul stammer
Soul stammer
After Jesus washed the feet of his disciples, and after Judas left, he gave them a commandment, something that seems impossible, well at least it does for me. He said “As I have loved you, so you are to love one another”. I am stunned almost every time I read that…. when I am actually paying attention to what is being said. To love ones neighbor as oneself is tricky, but to love as Jesus loved (?), my soul stammers when I think about it.
Allowing the process to continue
Allowing the process to continue
The barriers are slowly melting, though how this happens I am not sure. I need to remain open to the process, to trust it, but beyond that something deeper is going on that I experience as healing grace. It is in the chaos of life and my struggle with others and yes with my-self that is allowing this process to continue. Healing and grace received in ways that I do not understand, nor is that important.
Subtle colors
Subtle colors
The washing up in the morning,
the cleansing water on the face,
the aroma of coffee
and perhaps bacon and eggs,
the smile of loved ones
the laughter of children,
our pets,
soft music on the radio,
letting people in when driving,
not rushing the light,
not taking personally what other drivers do,
letting go of control of what cannot be managed,
looking at clouds,
smiling at strangers,
Yes
These little things,
of subtle color
can center the heart,
being present to what is important
carrying it over into the dark color times,
the flow is present always,
it is not drifting,
simply being present,
letting the brittle ego,
often fearful and anxious
to simply rest in the moment,
rooted in the now,
a cup of tea
can do that for some,
yes such a little thing,
yet to truly focus
is not a little thing at all.
Nor is it a small matter to know
when to laugh at oneself with compassion.
Pearl beyond price
Pearl beyond price
The only reason the books of the New Testament were written was because of the experiences of the early church with the Risen Lord. A revelation of that, which is unknowable, yet made human in Jesus Christ our Lord. The mystery will always remain, yet the love revealed in Jesus, is the pearl beyond price.
The NDE the gift for all
The gift for all
There are moments when I feel like our world is buried in a deep dark cavern, surrounded by walls so thick that it is impossible to see through; or for that matter to dig out of. It is then that the prison analogy becomes a reality for me. I don’t know what this means, when this prison archetype grabs my attention. I suffer from what I call ‘metaphysical claustrophobia “, I can’t seem too spiritually breathe in any system that I find closed off, or not opened ended. Perhaps the walls that I often feel, the cave like feeling, is when I have an understanding that it is our minds, our brains, that are the lockup, or cell, that I feel myself in at times.
For most of us, it may takes years to even begin to trust the process that we all go through, as the years and decades fly by. I have come to trust all aspects of life, even if at times I may feel trapped in a world with no escape. For no matter how dark things are, the light returns after a season. It is my faith and the ever deepening trust I have learned to embrace, that will often shorten this feeling of being adrift. Dark and light are the same, and I guess with most of humanity I slowly learn the limits of our knowing…. as well as how open-ended things are, it just takes time and faith, for most of us.
The gift of those who have had an NDE, is that the slow process towards trust in life’s movement, that most of us stumble towards, is revealed to the experiencer in minutes, or perhaps even seconds. It is I feel a gift to the rest of us, for whatever gifts we have are for everyone and should not be buried. They in some sense “know”, though they have only been at the beginning of the journey that we will all experience when we die. It is the ‘Light” that is common in NDE’s, the love and the acceptance that was experienced is what they bring back with them, that is the gift that I feel they can bestow.
Faith is a gift, something that has to be received. Having an experience that brings what is believed by many by faith, as something more real than the world we live in is also a gift that has to be pondered and received. Not all NDE’s agree in specifics. Some are very Christian in their content. Howard’s storms account comes to mind, that he shares in his book “My decent into death”. As well as George G. Richie’s NDE, told in his book “Return from tomorrow”. While other experiences are much broader and more expansive in scope and can appeal to a broader audience, they all talk of God’s love, or the Light’s, that is something simply there.
I don’t think NDE’s will replace any world religion; however they can teach and expand the often narrow understanding that believers can have. They are a challenge and if missed I feel that something is lost in the process. NDE’s again are a gift and I don’t think those who have had these wonderful experiences are closer to the truth than followers of a religious path. For in the end, it is love that is the greatest spiritual gift and if ones NDE, or faith, does not lead to that, then I feel it is futile and can cause harm.
As I age, I have come to understand that along with my experiences of the love that the Light freely bestows on me and yes also the mercy that I have received is the same for all. Those who have NDE’s and those who don’t are perhaps on different paths, each providing a different kind of growth. Knowing something because of a profound experience and those who perhaps slowly deepen their faith in the Light are in fact not that far apart. The danger is stereotyping which I see in both camps, and in reality only continue the same round of keeping others outside. I would imagine that most of the evil in the world and perhaps most of the suffering are caused by this compulsion that seems part of our species, to look down on others and perhaps to pity them because they are inferior in some manner. Those on a spiritual path can be just as guilty of that as anyone. We learn from our mistakes, if we don’t, then NDE’s will probably just bring about another group who has superior knowledge leaving the others outside perhaps forming yet another world religion.
The more we love and understand others the more human we become, when we fail we just react and harm one another and becomes worse than any beast.
To enjoy small things
To enjoy the small things
Life on a daily basis has many frustrations. There is also real suffering that can cause a great deal of anxiety, fear and physical pain. The darker colors get our attention, as they should since they need to b dealt with. Often the many subtle colors of the day, the so called small pleasures are overlooked, or perhaps taken for granted. Many people may laugh at the mindfulness needed to be truly present to these many small centers of peace that are present in our daily lives. However I feel that it is to their loss; for it is pleasure that releases the stress that the daily struggles of life bring us. To enjoy the small things in life are important, for since they do not cause us distress they can be overlooked and the healing benefit that they offer can be diluted are lost. To be mindful of small things is not easy, it takes discipline, a swimming against the habitual reactions
to what life seems to throw at us. Perhaps it could also be called developing the seeds of thankfulness. There is a Buddhist saying: “Pain is inevitable, suffering is a choice”.
Seed
Seed
The seed, the desire to forgive and to be free is a grace. Yet it takes a death to self, which is replaced by Christ love that brings in the end freedom. When one prays the “Our Father” with conscious intent, it will lead to deep inner healing. The seed of judgment, hatred and the desire for revenge is slowly healed by the leaven of God’s grace. Not to forgive others, is to join them in their ever shrinking world of inner pain and isolation and allows them to retain their power over their victims.
Intimate
Intimate
To be firm is not being harsh, since harshness comes from a certain level of judgment that can harm the one who judges. Hatred and rage are intimate in how they keep a connection with those who abuse and take advantage of others. Forgiveness sets them free and all power that the one hated has is taken away. This is of course difficult, but forgiveness comes before emotional healing; it is a process, a painful one Perhaps what is left when forgiveness takes deeper root, is pity or even compassion for the one who sinks ever deeper into isolation though their self destructive manipulation of others. A heart incapable of love is empty, cold and lifeless; perhaps it is a prison in which there is no escape. Hell after all is self created, a place I wish for no one to dwell.
Common path
My trust grows in God’s love for me and for others…. perhaps having many years behind me, filled with the usual sufferings and joys of life, is what allows this inner trust, that is becoming stronger as I age, grow and mature… and is in actuality life’s greatest gift. An act of trust is made against all odds, the facing of inner promptings to flee or hide, but refusing to comply. To instead to step forward into a greater and deeper reality, even if hidden and the soul quakes and burdened with anxiety. This is simply the road I believe we are all on, a common journey, moving toward an ever deepening freedom to choose, change and the ever expanding openness to healing grace. Freely given, not earned, pure gift, freeing us from anxious self concern.
A snail's pace
Very slowly, at a snail's pace, if even that fast, I am learning that it is not about me, but about something else. I get glimmers of it for short periods of time, then it closes again and I am once more left in darkness. Yet not without a deep penetrating light to accompany me; dark in its brilliance, hidden it’s deep influence. For faith is not something weak, it is a candle against an infinite void that does really light the way. There is a saying: “perception is everything”. Faith is a perception about reality, it is also a gift, but it must be made over and over again. Not out of fear but in the knowing that there is always ‘more’, something ‘deeper’, calling and yes pursuing me. I could no more be an atheist than I could be the Queen of England. It is allowing in doubt that faith matures, just another damn paradox I guess. I am not even thinking about other people who are atheist, for they are on their own path and I am on mine. I just trust and indeed believe that the Eternal also clings and pursues them; all of us, without reserve.
Restitution
Restitution
Our actions, even if compulsive, with no bad will behind them, have the same affect on others as the same act that is done freely and perhaps with malice. Our free actions are a form of self creation, our compulsive ones are what imprisons and will not allow movement forward towards inner healing and community.
Our free actions are leading us to becoming either gods or demons. In our treatment and attitude towards others we are also helping them along this path that we are all on. That is why, if possible, all actions that cause harm, whether done freely or not, need restitution towards those we have caused suffering and harm.
In the 12 step program, this is called the 5th step.
Step out
Step out
Fear is there to warn us of some threat, which is good, it keeps us safe. There are times however when feeling ‘safe’ is just an excuse not to step out and take a chance. I suppose the only way I can deal with fear is to face it, probably a temperamental thing, I can’t do otherwise, the regret is too great if I don’t.
Flesh incarnated
Flesh, incarnated
Once you connect with someone, no matter how slight; there is a change. The closed circle becomes a little larger and the learning to ‘see’ differently moves forward a pace. People do not deserve pity and for the most part most don’t want it. However to be seen, listened to and not judged self righteously; well who does not want that? It is hard to carry another’s darkness and self hatred.
Lord, in the eyes of others, is it not you looking out, experiencing our love, disdain, contempt, compassion, empathy or hatred that we show to others? When you said “whatever you do to the least of these you do to me”, becomes every more clear when your immanence is slowly understood and your intimate union with each of us contemplated.
Commonality
Commonality
People learn from their own pain to be empathetic and compassionate
towards those with whom they met, who are outside the family, religion,
race and country. We learn of our commonality through struggle and suffering and in the
receiving of mercy from others.
Our lives have meaning
Our lives have meaning
For the Christian, the Word, or Christ is the way to seek to understand life and what it is about. In Christ, God emptied himself and dived full bodied into our human experience with all of its joys and sufferings. Perhaps each religion does this, gives tools to help us make sense of our lives and what they are about. Christ endured our pain and loneliness and also for many of us our painful and isolated deaths. “My God, My God, why have you forsaken me”, is something that I think most will learn to understand as they journey through life. Suffering is not taken away, but we are journeyed with and loved. This is not pie in the sky, it is reality. Our lives have meaning, love causes suffering, and our lives are often filled with darkness and loneliness, yet in all of these God tabernacles with us. There is no escape from this, for Christ goes before us and we follow.
Monkey mind
Present
In the moment when experienced
the past and future fade,
worries sink and disappear,
blood pressure drops
breathing becomes calm
until the monkey brain
begins again.
Rootedness
Rootedness
Our rootedness is found in that void that many dance around. What calls us all is not just “God”, for that name is overused and abused and more often than not an idol or simple projection. For some believers, God is Santa Claus, and when that idol falls, the contract not kept by ‘God’, then instead of allowing for the childish idol to be dashed upon the ground, they simply give up the journey into infinity. I am not judging, for there is great suffering involved in life and it would be certainly more pleasant if we were protected from the ups and downs and absolute hells that can be a part of our existence. Perhaps in order for faith to deepen patience is needed, simple waiting. Though at times I would like to settle for some really simple rational answer, which is impossible most likely.
Incapacity
Incapacity
The more I want a heart of flesh, the greater is the burden in the knowledge of my incapacity. In my younger years I constructed some very high and strong barriers to keep what I fear out. When they were placed, I guess they were needed. Now they are a hindrance. Or perhaps on the other hand a spur to keep me moving forward; no matter how slow the pace seems to be to my limited understanding of how the progression works. The two year old never leaves me (the architect), nor should he, for this very aspect of my inner self is real and never sleeps.
Thirst
Thirst
I think that in my own life I spend an awful lot of time ‘seeking’ this center in things that in the end do not hold. Finitude cannot fill the void that seeks infinity. I dance around that inner calling and attraction and there are times when I don’t understand why. It is like being filled with thirst, yet unwilling to drink from the pure spring and going after Coca Cola instead, in the end the thirst remains, after a quick burst of pleasure that is ephemeral.
Impossible situations
There are human situations that are simply impossible. I suppose for caregivers, whether they are working with a family member or friend, or like myself, who works where there are more than a few patients; situations arise wherein there is no solution, but something that has to be accepted and lived through. The impossible situation is dementia. Working in any situation that requires patient endurance, and care giving is not by any means the only place where this is needed, can be taxing. However, working with someone with dementia does have certain challenges, which are emotionally draining and painful.
Those with dementia can be at times very peaceful and corporative. At other times violence is met and strong resistance. In both situations it has nothing to do with the one taking care of them. Care givers are interchangeable and equally unknown to many dementia patients. They are often mistaken for someone from their past. For instance, with William I am often mistaken for ‘Tommy’; a former band member I believe. With Ron, I am mistaken for ‘Marvin’, who I believe is a friend from his teen age years. It is when they don’t know who is taking care of them, even if it is a family member; that troubles can start.
It is amazing how strong we become when angry or frighten, no matter what our age or physical condition. There are mornings with William when he is very peaceful and even helpful when I need to do his early morning cleaning. Then there are those mornings what I call “the impossible situations”, where he is frighten, does not know who I am, or where he is, or for that matter, does not remember the 3,000 or so times he has been cleaned while being here. It is a new experience as far as he is concerned and it frightens and angers him. So he kicks, tries to bite, or spit and when he can get old of my hand or arm, he squeezes. When with others it can be difficult, but when by myself well “impossible” almost, for the job does get done; just takes a little more time..
It is the restraining that I hate. Having to hold down his arms and when he resists some more I have to use a bit more pressure. It does not hurt him, but it does me. I guess this is probably one of the worst parts of being a care giver. Doing the simple tasks that have to be done everyday, two or three or more times a day. I guess there are hundreds of thousands of people who have to deal with this on a regular basis, some of whom have no help, no break, a 24/7 job… for them I feel only compassion.
In many families, one sibling, or parent, is designated the caregiver and will often be left alone with very little help if any from other family members. It is a complex situation, for the caregiver may reject help, and then complains when no help is given; yes another ‘impossible situation”. The stress on one person is often underestimated by other members of the family, which can lead to tragic results. In some families, some caregivers actually die before the one being taken care of.
There is a tidal wave coming for our country and the workers needed to take care of this tsunami are diminishing. In nursing homes, CNA’s are often overworked with too many patients to care for and are given little pay. Those who care for the well being of those they take care of and frustrated because of the care they cannot give, often quit, preferring to do home care. Care can be spotty for those in nursing homes and when burn out occurs for the workers there, abuse can often be a problem.
It seems most of us want to live long lives, which is good, but it is often forgotten that most of us who makes it to old age, will need to be taken care of at the end. For some it will be a short time, for others it could be years of care. Now this is an ‘impossible situation’ for sure. There is no answer, perhaps we will find one when the wave hits. We are already feeling the beginnings as we baby boomers age. In about 10 year’s time, at the latest 15, we will be in the thick of it. I am not overly pessimistic however. For at bottom, even if we are far from perfect, we are a species that does care for its weak and sick. Perhaps like most problems that need to be dealt with, we do better when backed into a corner.
What it means
What it means
Life is either about something greater than we can comprehend at this point in our existence or it is really not about much at all. It does not take away from personal meaning if life itself is meaningless, for family, friends, career and other life enriching events can at least make life pleasant and enjoyable…. if not too much thought is given to what that actually means. Perhaps too much thought about life and meaning is in the end not a healthy thing to do. Yet human beings are for the most part incorrigible in this regard, due to the fact that finding some kind of center to life is necessary and absolute. Even if at times it is sought in ways that are not always clear to the seeker, but drives them nonetheless.
Limitations
Limitations
We live in a world of limitations. I am sure that those who know me become frustrated when they encounter certain restrictions in me, especially when they seek to be deeply understood and listened to. At times I can’t do it. Don’t have the experience, depth, intelligence, or the insight, to be able to make that jump in regard to those I know and love. I also find it painful when I experience others in the same way. When I can’t seem to connect with them on a level where I feel seen and understood. Maddening even at times and isolating. It is our human condition and can at times deeply wound the soul. I can’t see others as they wish me to understand them and the same reality is also true for me. .
I would assume most of us experience being misunderstood much, if not most of the time. It is no wonder then that ‘trust’ is often very difficult to learn and even then it can be easily shattered. We see each other through the lens of our past experiences and also from the depth that we actually have some self knowledge. The less I know myself, the harder I can be on others.
Compassion and empathy come from the experience of my own limitations and that allows understanding of others, who also have constrictions that perhaps can’t be overcome easily, if at all. It is our common humanity that allows true seeing of one another and the ability to listen and learn. Perhaps that is why St. Francis said in one of his prayers; “to seek to understand rather than be understood”. Just another paradox we seem to have to live with, in this world of limitations. There is always a call to a death of one way of life, in order to find another life that is freer and more expansive.
A snake sheds its skin in order to grow,
we perhaps are called to become free
of the illusions of being the center,
when in truth we are just one center among many.
Our longings shared by all,
is the bridge to understanding of others
who are also trapped in their skin,
seeking the painful process of shedding.
Lord, teach me to see.
Sociopath
There is someone I know (lets call him Will), who seems to be a sociopath, though perhaps I will never actually know. He is a pleasant enough person, easy to get along with and seems to be caring of others. Then things come up later on, usually after he is gone, for he is very good at covering his tracks with those he has yet to take advantage of. What he has done to others however eventually comes to light. One of his ‘friends’ I will call him Mike. Someone who knew and trusted Will, found out that he is the person who stole his credit card number and spent over $30,000 for some medical bills. This of course caused Mike no small amount of trouble trying to get this worked out; which eventually he did. It was not until 3 years after the event that he found out through a third party. By then Will was in jail (again). It seems that there are a number of states that want him for various charges. Some of his women “friends” have contacted me and filled me on how he treated them, abused and stole from them and then was gone. So he has a very dark past and now that he is 50 and just got out of jail, he also has a very bleak future. He has nothing and now he is on parole, but still thinks that he is being treated unfairly.
Even though I know what he did, I still helped him out a bit while he was in prison, for he is after all a human being and I could not just throw him aside, though I know that he is not capable of any kind of real relationship. I did it more for myself than for him, I believe. so I can't say it is charity at all. He knows that he can’t come and stay where I live. I have told him that he has violated trust and I doubt that can be built back up, since from his past with me and others, that is not possible. So I will help him still, from time to time, for now he has nothing and I wish him well. Unless he changes, maybe he can, his life will end up badly, either in jail again, or possibly killed by someone in the future he will callously use. I can’t say he is evil, nor can I say he is good; he seems to be in a no mans land of in between, which is tragic. There are times when all that can be done is to simply pray for all concerned and try not to hold a grudge or to become bitter. If that happens, I feel that Will wins; if it can be called that. He has no idea the amount of pain he has caused others as he goes through life, mostly women I believe and I feel for them and the pain they went through and perhaps will for a lifetime.
My juvenile tendency
My juvenile tendency
I remember a funny incident that happen to me about five years ago, which actually helped me to get a grip on my juvenile tendency to blame anything at all for some inane mistakes, or misstep, that I take. One day I was going through our front meeting room. I was looking up at something on the ceiling while still walking and ran my left shin into a low lying stool. It was painful, but the humiliation of being bested by a small wooden stool made me furious. So I looked at the stool, fuming and said in a loud voice (I am so thankful I was alone), “if you were not already dead I would kill you”. As soon as I said this I stopped, blinked, looked down at the stool and began to chuckle at the absurdity of such a statement. So I sat down rubbing my shin and as I continued to think about it, I started laughing a little louder, and then it continued until I was laughing so hard that I begin to cry.
Restless night
Restless night
It was a strange night. William was awake for most of it. When I went in at about 11 PM to check in on him, because he was yelling at someone he thought was in his room; I found his bed pretty much torn apart. He was very animated acting like he was talking to a lot of people in his room and having trouble keeping up with the conversation. He was manic in other words. So I fixed up his bed, checked to see if he needed cleaning and tried to calm him down. Which of course is not possible when he is in this state… for he is out of touch with the ‘present’, caught in the ‘past’, which is now pretty normal for him; he seems to be in his 20’s. We have some Ativan cream that we use from time to time, so I applied some to his wrist, made sure he was safe and went back to bed. It helped a bit, but later on about 5:30 AM he was agitated again. As I was cleaning him, he went from wanting to throw me out of the room to telling me what a great guy I am…….no wonder I get confused at times. I put him on his side, his left, and now I think he is starting to calm down. If I put him on his right side he gets agitated, on his left, most of the time he goes to sleep.
Ron continues to decline and does not seem to need any kind of schedule, which is often important to older charges. I used to get him up at 6 AM and when I was even a few minutes late, he would start calling me. Now it is a hit and miss most mornings. It won’t hurt him to sleep in a couple of hours, will have to see where this leads. It is often difficult to know when to start taking control over certain aspects of someone whom I am taking care of. Bed time is the same every night, it h as to be so because of the schedule, but in the morning we have a bit more leeway.
One of things hardest to deal with and I guess this can be true in any kind of job situation, is impatience. Even though I know that Ron and William can’t help doing what they do, I still can have strong episodes of frustration, becoming very impatient. I guess it takes a certain amount of control not to show it. It comes when I am tired and as I get older, that seems to be pretty constant at this time. I am 63 after all. However, I don’t feel the desire to retire from this kind of ministry at this time. Perhaps I am even becoming more patient but don’t know it. In any case, this is not something to be overcome, just a human reaction that needs to be dealt with in a gentle manner and hopefully with humor. Laughing at myself is often a great way to ride it out.
Easy way out
Easy way out
To become a compassionate and loving human being, is an uphill journey that takes discipline and the courage to not allowing my failures or those of others to derail me. Again, to become a cynic about human nature is the easy way out and has a kind of romantic, world weary charm about it, but it leads nowhere, because all I have to do is sink and not strive to overcome the downward pull, so easy to follow.
Easy way out
Easy way out
To become a compassionate and loving human being, is an uphill journey that takes discipline and the courage to not allowing my failures or those of others to derail me. Again, to become a cynic about human nature is the easy way out and has a kind of romantic, world weary charm about it, but it leads nowhere, because all I have to do is sink and not strive to overcome the downward pull, so easy to follow.
Blessed day
Blessed day
Went to Midnight mass last night. Took "Ron" with me. Got him up around 11PM. Did not give him his night meds at the regular time. He enjoyed it very much and seemed to know where he was at and what it was about. On the way back to his room he did ask what building we were in. When we got near his room, he finally understood where he was at. Got him back in bed, gave him his meds and now at this time in the morning 10:00 AM, he is still sleeping. Will get him up at 11:00 and get him ready for our big meal today.
It was a nice evening. I also love working of Christmas, kind of strange I know, but it is a special day, with a uniqe feeling to it, at least for me.
I wish all who read this a blessed Christmas and a very serene New Year.
peace
mark
The great reward
The great reward
The greatest gift is simply love, simple, direct and down to earth. Expressed in homely ways that can bring comfort to those in pain, solace to those who grieve, affection and touch for those who long for a healing touch and also hard words of truth when needed. As the heart expands, the reward for loving is simply to love more, ever deeper, for eternity.
Paradox supreme
Paradox supreme
Cosmos vast,
no end in sight,
light years countless
it would take to traverse,
yet in a child is Divinity shown;
in a cave born,
small and weak;
paradox supreme.
“And a child shall rule them”.
Asking for mercy
Asking for mercy
Sometimes mercy can be understood and its cost in asking and receiving it, when on occasion something hurtful or cruel is done to a loved one; someone central to ones life and existence’, a wife, husband, friend etc. I have experienced this. The reality of the injustice done can cause deep wells of sorrow and suffering and yes guilt in acknowledging responsibility. In fact the deeper the love of another, so is the corresponding need to accept that the act was one freely committed, that no recourse is sought out... no, only responsibility taken for what was done in freedom. So the asking for forgiveness is not something lightly undertaken, when love is at the center of the issue. So the asking and the receiving, is both liberating and also purifying, for it must be brought to the light of day, expressed, mercy asked and hopefully received. On the human level, when mercy is received, the relationship deepens and matures on both sides. if not, it dies. So mercy trumps justice more often than not, in personal, loving, relationships.
A shadow of divine reality
A shadow of divine reality
To extend mercy is freeing. The one who is the beneficiary however may not understand it, or accept it. Or if he does, it may take time for the work of mercy to bring up the reality of the evil done, by the wrongdoer. I feel that mercy proffered by one human to another is a sign of grace in the world, a shadow of the divine reality of what mercy really is. Of which I believe, we are all in need of. Not only from those whom we know and love on occasion, but also from God, who is revealed as infinite mercy and love. Mercy does not engender neurotic guilt, but brings out the reality of our human existential condition. One aspect of our situation is that by nature we are self centered; how could it be otherwise? So we are capable of acts towards others that can cause deep pain and anguish and not really be aware of it. For the objectifying of others is more common than normally understood. It is like we are all pawns on a chessboard trying to become Queens and Kings so that we can move others around for our comfort and pleasure.
Billy Love (William)
Billy Love
(William)
William for awhile used to start singing in the morning and go all day long. It was quite remarkable how he did that. He was in a Jazz band when young and from time to time played with Chubby Checker when the twist was popular. Jazz was his first love however and he played the Clarinet. He went under the name of “Billy Love”. He walked like someone who had a lot of soul, was open, frank and at times had a very small fuse when it came to how he expressed himself. Looking back, some of it was probably caused by the beginnings of his Alzheimer’s, which is now very far advanced. He is seldom present to the moment, but seems to be reliving events from his past. He rarely calls me by “Marky” anymore; I am most of the time “Jimmy”, who I believe must have been a very good friend of his, when he was very young and playing jazz.
This morning when I did my first check in, he was singing very peacefully, kind of a peaceful dirge, no words just him vocalizing, just with sounds. Then from time to time he cries, and then starts to sing again. I guess it is important for him to do this; he has to express emotions somehow, for he certainly has them in abundance, as I suspect we all do. He does after all have an interior life, always will. As he goes from one mood to another, he seems to forget what went before, but there is an underlying thread that seems to hold it together.
One day at a time
How he loves to sing,
then deep sorrow flows from that,
then anger,
violent and unrepressed,
joy then will surface
and for awhile he is a delight,
no there is nothing hidden,
his inner life,
all his joy,
sorrow
and sufferings revealed.
Perhaps he is reliving his past,
seeking some resolution
of his frail humanity;
closure and mercy as well.
Perhaps we all review our life
when old and the outer world passes us by,
a time for inner reflection,
as we draw near to infinity.
We get what we need I suppose,
not what we want,
what we actually do need
seems harsh
but perhaps necessary.
I don’t’ know,
just one day at a time
Sweet Jesus,
that is all I ask both for me
for William,
for all of us.
Ron's decline
Ron’s decline
So quickly his decline, just a few months ago he was working, walking around, present to those around him and could be communicated with without trouble. Then one day he was different. He could not do his job, did not really care, he would just shrug his shoulders. I guess it had been coming for awhile, but he could cover it up, then one day he could not. Then he fell, hitting his head and the decline become more rapid.
Now he does not know where he is at, at times forgets the last forty years, but then gets it back. Wants to see his parents, both have been dead for over 35 years; yet he wants to call them. So I lie and tell him that they are on vacation and will contact him when they get back. I have learned that if I tell him that they are dead, then he will receive it as if for the first time. There is no need to put him through that. One time I made the mistake of telling one of my charges that his parents were dead and he became inconsolable yelling, “Why did no one tell me”. No need to put anyone through that again or myself for that matter.
I don’t like seeing him that way, just glad we can take care of him here. He can’t walk too well, tends to fall backwards so we need to keep him in a chair. He wandered one day in his wheelchair and got lost downstairs; so now we keep him in a ‘Gerry chair’ with a poesy, which keeps him from rising on his own, thus preventing another serious fall.
At times we have to remind him to eat, so he does, he drinks lots of coffee and likes eggs and toast for breakfast. He reads little now, just a few weeks ago he read a lot. Does not know how to use his mobile phone, so I have put it in a safe place, just in case he wants it again; which I doubt, it is too complicated for him now.
He has been though a lot over the last ten years. Almost died twice because of his lung problems, but fooled everyone by making it back. So perhaps his rapid decline into dementia is from simply having a body that has been through a great deal and is too tired to swim and can only at this time tread water, slowly sinking.
Overly attached to me at this time, but I have known him for over forty years. So I guess I am a port in the storm. I try not to be a source of pain to him, but have to work on boundaries, for there are others who need care as well. He is becoming, like many of us will when our turn comes, into a child, transparent, no filters, just him and his actions and statements. Which are sometimes funny and then sad but always truthful, even if he is stuck in a world that can’t be entered by others much of the time….but he can be listened to and embraced and loved. Something we all need all of the time, but when ill and on our last mile, it is even more important to be present to them as much as possible. I am aware of my failures, but that is only a spur to try to do better.
Working with the elderly makes it impossible to think of my own journey and mortality. I think this is good, it does help me to keep my priorities in place, at least some of the time.
Absurd at times
Absurd at times
Life can seem empty, grey, and absurd for me at times. The energy that seeks something to rest in is denied me and when I go inward I can often experience the same colorless void. I get restless, though I know that running hither and thither will do no good. Ever so slowly I have come to understand that if I feel dry and nothing seems attractive to me, then I have learned to simply wait, for it will pass. Home is being in the moment, not running from, it is only then that a feeling of home will slowly open up and if it does not, that is ok as well. Though I often fail to simply wait; yes it is a slow journey for me.
God Whispers
God whispers
In a world filled with noise,
violence and chaos,
God whispers softly,
gently and with infinite patience,
seeks our response.
Our search and our faith
Our search and our faith
When things get dark, then it is time to draw on faith. If difficult, no matter, for our faith though a gift, is also a choice, one that needs to be made over and over again. We live in a world wherein any belief system has to be based on a certain level of faith. We also have minds, intelligence and I believe we should use it to grow deeper in our understanding of our relationship with God, as well as with those around us. If we don't ponder and grow, then the pervading culture will dictate to us what is important and we will be mind numbed by commercials, reality TV and yes the news. It is all a smoke screen, to keep us from seeing that life is about growth in love, kindness towards others and an ever deepening trust in God. When we die, it is the love we take with us. All people who are on the path in the search for truth are my fellow travelers and my brothers and sister. Perhaps we are all on that path, some are more aware of it, others have not yet entered into that part of their lives when they begin to search and question.
Not something owned
Not something owned
One of the weaknesses of religious people is the all too human tendency to make their own path the true one, others being left out. When in fact, all images of God are limited and need to be stretched. God is not something owned, not an object to be carried around, nor can God’s work in the world by deduced by certain scripture verses, over used, in order to simply back up ones special place in the scheme of things. No, God is equally involved in all lives, for in God we live, move, and have our being.
Final gift
Final gift
Old age is feared by many, yet it must come for us all;
for those lucky enough to endure through the years,
bringing with it much joy and sorrow,
pleasure and pain.
Bodies age, lose their original beauty and strength,
yet the soul remains young and supple
hidden beneath a face wrinkled and worn,
either bitter are filled with wisdom.
Our paths are hard, no one spared the trail,
the heart responding to what life offers.
Each enfolded within God’s loving arms,
though hidden and often seems absent.
In our last years our greatest and hardest gift,
is to simply allow others to care for us,
allowing them so show love and compassion,
in that very trail, if hearts are open,
to find their heart expanding in their ability to love
Talent
Talent
(This is a talk given at my brothers church,
I know that other traditions also have compassion and
the Golden Rule as central to their teachings)
In the Gospel Jesus uses a worldly metaphor of a rich man going away on a journey and before leaving; he gives three of his slaves some money (talents) to invest. He gave them the amount suited to their abilities. Then after he returned he awarded each according to what they did with the money. Two received the same reward, to be over many things, while the one who buried his money lost what little he had. It was fear that kept the one who received the one talent from investing, from trying to do something with the money. Also he did misjudge his master, for he was very generous with those who did well. Fear can often be a self fulfilling prophecy.
So what is the point of this parable? Parables can be read on different levels, and used to gain insight into our lives in different ways. I would like to speak of the (talent) or gift that is given to all of us who proclaim themselves followers of Christ. It is the seed that was planted in our hearts hopefully to grow into 30, 60, or a 100 fold. A leaven that we experience as slowly enriching our lives in ways that perhaps we never thought possible. The way to fully experience the richness of this grace is shown us by two statements presented to us by Jesus in the Gospels.
The first:
“You must love the Lord your God with your whole heart, with you’re whole mind and all your strength”….and to love your neighbor as yourself.”
The second saying is:
“Do unto others, as you would have others do unto you.”
The “Golden Rule” can be easily quoted, but the actual living out this way of relating not only to others but to oneself, can be quite difficult to accomplish. It takes a certain level of self knowledge to actually know how one would like to be treated in any given circumstance when in an actual interaction with someone else. The only way we can understand another, is to have some understanding of ourselves and also what we are capable of if in the same situation, if it were to happen to us. In order to grow in self knowledge, self love is a must, for it is the key that will open the door to the ending of painful repetitive cycles in life. It is a slow process, with many failures, but if the journey continues the failures become learning stations to build on.
This seed is of course “Love”, not something sentimental, but it is in the actual sharing in the Love that Christ has for all. It is also about embracing the many impossible situations that we can find ourselves in. Not all problems can be fixed, and it is love that allows us to be able to bear with that reality without giving in to anger, resentment and yes despair. There will be times when we ourselves or the impossible situation, and it becomes more painful when we are aware of that. Self knowledge is a tough and hard road, but it is in the actual wrestling we have without selves and yes at times with God, that we learn empathy and compassion for all others, for though we are each unique, our uniqueness is not isolating nor terminal, but it open a bridge to understanding others. An ever deepening understanding of our selves leads to more insight and compassion for others. We will find that slowly we will find that labels do not fit those who bother us, who are different, who are outside our social circle, family and nation.
We learn from the pain of being misjudged and maligned and labeled to do whatever is in our power to not misjudge, malign or label others. This talent we are commanded to develop, why, because when living out this gift, allowing it to grow, we are living out the image of God that we are made in. We learn to see rightly, to become healers for those around us. We become Christ’s heart in an often cold world. We become Christ’s legs to hasten to help others, and Christ arms to embrace those in need of healing and comfort.
Labels allow us to dehumanize others, thereby sparing ourselves of experiencing their pain and need. Contempt frees us from the demands of love, and in the so called freedom to treat others as mere objects; we imprison our hearts in a place filled with fear, anger and isolation from those around us. We are either growing towards an ever expanding circle of love, or we are contracting, slowly killing the gift that Christ gave his life to give us and also to show us the way.
Not so far apart
Not that far apart
After love, truth is what I believe most people seek the most. Actually they are connected. I would think that truth is what leads us all, slowly or rapidly into and ever broader understanding of reality. Words can be so over used however that their meaning can be diluted and trivialized.
I believe that love and truth are what is experienced in many different ways by all of us; then we must continue to grow in our ability to accept both at ever deeper levels. Which can be a painful process to walk through and often lonely, since when doubt is faced and overcome….we may leave others behind who are still struggling with the slow process of understanding the open ended-ness of reality. I am not sure any of us are that far apart from each other. In fact I believe that it can take decades before ones intuition is actually listened to and courage to follow it is achieved. Perhaps that is one reason for the ageing process, we simply need time to learn and absorb what we learn.
NDE’s seem to give others an advantage. Why they are given this I am not sure, though I doubt that any of us are that far apart from each other. In fact I believe that it can take decades before ones intuition is actually listened to and when it is, then the NDE accounts can be something understood and appreciated.
.
Though NDE's seem to give others an advantage, but they are given this experience for a reason, one of them I believe is to encourage the rest of us to not fear being stretched in their own faith walk. Perhaps learning to actually listen to others, to get inside of their experience and then study their wisdom and world view, is what is being called for at this time in our cultural and individual evolution.
Those who have powerful experiences and yes for those of us who have not had them, who follow a faith tradition, like me both focus us and deepen us in our journey towards love and truth. To listen to others, especially if we feel some anxiety in what they are saying, could be a call to go deeper and to face our fears that perhaps reality can’t be tamed and boxed in, by anyone. I believe we are all beginners here, children slowly learning to trust in the infinite and to embrace infinite love and truth, which is a mystery that gives us understanding and experience, but it is also a call to go ever deeper in the mystery and also the wonder of who we are, the journey is eternal.
When the mystery gets too close to me, it is then that I am tempted to unbelief, as if it is impossible for something that wondrous to be possible. I don’t think I am alone in this, so I am content to wait…..I think we are all good at that, better than we think.
So for those who have ‘seen’, well thanks for sharing with those of us who have not.
Waiting
Waiting
The heart is dry and heavy,
the body sluggish and tired,
when prayer seems a buden
and the mind seems incapable of focus,
it is then the time of waitng on the Lord,
just being with the nothingness,
in faith knowing,
you are seen and heard.
"Fear not I am with you"
Its sting
Its sting
Knowing that we end gives life its urgency. Having an unlimited future is not something I would want even if I was not a man of faith. Live fully, let go when it needs to be done, and when the finale letting go is the next event, it will be just one more passage to go through. For death and life seem to work hand in hand, though, yes, death still has a kick to it, faith does take away much of its sting.
What we are not
Humility is not about self loathing, but about seeing the truth, embracing it and not sinking into self hatred and despair. Perhaps that is the greatest obstacle, for it is easy to fall into those traps. The call to dying to self is more about that, than overcoming anyone ‘thing’ in ones life. Often our self destructive habits are based on this self loathing than on anything else. It takes courage to stand up to the inner mob that wants to keep us back and to simply say “I don’t believe you”. We are not our thoughts and certainly not or emotions and feelings. They come and go and can become habits of relating to life that only increase our bondage and suffering. To have them and not believe is difficult but the death to that imprisoned self only leads to an ever deeper and expanding freedom.
Central core
Faith is useless if the central core is missing. It then becomes just another ideology; closed to change and lifeless since it is cut off from what is most essential. “To love one neighbor as oneself” is the essential core of any faith that is alive and vibrant. “To treat others as you want to be treated”, if practiced cannot kill, maim nor tortured others, for they or seen as other selves. “Whatever you do to the least of these, you do unto me”.
Ideologies die, not because they are evil or bad, but they are closed systems unable to foster love and compassion for those outside. Faith if not lived is just show, useless and best if it is not promulgated. Failures are inevitable, ideologies cannot admit this, so they become rigid and people have no recourse. Faith systems if they have the humility to accept failures, then there is hope for growth and an ever deepening openness to graces healing. Humility leads to the death of an outworn way of life; pride dies of its own rigidity. That goes not only for ideologies but also religions that cease becoming life giving and fruitful.
Two paths
Humility allows sight,
understanding,
conversation and change,
flexibility.
Pride becomes blind,
its fruit contempt,
unwilling to listen and learn,
rigid unbending.
Reading, faith, world views and inner conflict
Reading, faith, world views and inner conflict
When reading a book, say a book of philosophy that is set in story form, the reader enters into the world of the writer and for a time, while immersed in the author’s world, takes on the world view presented in the pages. A relationship is formed with a book, a subjective experience that can be either enriching or at times damaging.
Reading a book that is written as a defense of one particular point of view, without a story line, is a different experience altogether. We receive from any volume and its message according to the openness to what is being presented. To take an adversarial stance truncates what can be received and can even miss the point entirely. For entering into the world of one who has beliefs foreign to the reader can cause anxiety, but this will pass if stayed with, for integration and deepening of ones understanding of life, is the reward of allowing ones faith and world view to augment and mature.
Some books show us world views that we cannot accept, but can lead to understanding why others think and believe differently. This is not always easy for me, for prejudices towards others is the norm (at least from my own experience) and I being burdened with my own pre-judgments can find myself being very selective in what I take from a volume that is perhaps antipathetic to my own views. Defenses go up very easily, for I believe that most people put a lot of effort into what they believe.
There are people who delve deeply into their chosen world views and I think it is important to read them. Those however who take on a contemptuous attitude, I tend to leave alone, since it causes a response from me, which is often based on anxiety that in turn, makes it impossible to read. If a tome is written simply to attack, it is then written only for those who believe in the same way and will bolster ones superiority towards others, often being spurred on my the choir. So there is little communication when books or papers are written in this genre. Though they often cause lively debate and high book sales for those who participate in this kind of entertainment; which no doubt serves a needed function for society.
At times I find it difficult to give others a fair hearing. I fail to see them, or respond poorly to their own failings in there attempt to get a point across. I see no way out of this dilemma and that has brought me a measure of peace. I am at an age, moving rapidly towards old age. I need to delve deeper into my own path, and yes to perhaps become narrower in my interest, without denying others the right to search other avenues in their own journey towards truth.
Being narrow minded is the problem and is based on arrogance and a type of personal infallibility that I fear is common and that I must fight in myself on a regular basis. We all wish to be seen and heard, well I do, and so I try to give that response to others, though I do fail at times, so strong is my own sense of personal infallibility, sad to say. Yet I will still seek to dilute that vice.
I am a man of faith. Many find such a stance childish, though I do not believe my faith is childish in any way. The struggle for truth is life long and when we die, well we enter into the deepest mystery of all. When I die, and actually find that my faith was true (I am a Christian), I will most likely be astounded and surprised. For below faith, is doubt, perhaps this doubt goes deeper than I wish to contemplate. Yet I choose faith, for though it can seem absurd, a world without God and faith is even more absurd. I seem to be backed into a corner, yet I will always choose faith, for my relationship with God, a God without form, yet manifested in Jesus Christ is the light I have chosen to follow.
Lord I believe; help my unbelief.
The 'Word'
The‘Word''
In the beginning was the Word: the Word was in God’s presence, and the Word was God (John 1:1). Though him all things came into being, and apart from him nothing came into being. (John 1:3).
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How easy it is for me to read such words and yawn, jaded from repeated readings… the words can seem so dry. Yet my heart longs for this Word, who became man and walked among us. The Word calls me to a new life, which means the death of the old way of life, which is a process still going on. This new life is not one of strength or of force, no, it is a call to look at things upside down, reality flipped, where what was once important, now becomes and impediment to my becoming fully human.
The Light that has come into the world (John 1:5) leads me to seeing differently. A set of values laughed at by many, but perhaps is the only hope for the world. I find it easy to take the road that leads to ruin, it is almost effortless, so well trodden the path. I have failed often, but the light calls me to faith and the desire to continue on my slow journey; a path that one day will remake my heart into something truly human, loving, and forgiving, open to all.
I am called to die to fear, anger and yes anxious concern. Yet I cling to these chains, fearing what will become of me if they are loosened. So I take decades to slowly come to full healing (not yet arrived). Until then I will be a scandal to those who see my weakness and struggle. My actions do not often reflect what I desire to be, yet I will not despair and my struggle leads me to compassion for all who seek to be filled with God’s love and mercy towards others as well as myself.
Love is the hard road, for it is easy prey to those who follow another road of freedom, or perhaps slavery, to a way of life that leads to ruin and death. Love calls me to the freedom of not hating, seeking revenge or of using others without regard to their innate dignity and most importantly, it leads me away from self contempt and hatred. The full life is one of love, easy to say, but hard to fulfill, for my heart is still partly stone and often controlled by fear. My anger is only the armor that I use to protect myself, keeping me from truly seeing others or allowing myself to be seen.
To be naked before the ‘Word’ is to open oneself to the infinite fire of divine love, not human love, but something deeper and more encompassing and yes, often perceived as cruel. Our hearts are meant to break open, to allow the pain of life and those around us to enter in; how else can compassion flower and empathy blossom? Sin is a way of escaping this experience. Something that the ‘Word’ could not do, or would not do, being obedient to the Father’s will.
So goodness was trampled underfoot, tortured and killed, as is often the case in our world. The “Word’ however did not seek revenge, no, he forgave all, such is infinite mercy and compassion, something that I still do not understand. Yes, I am still at the beginning of my journey and fail often, yet the ‘Word’s&rsquo ; mercy lifts me up and will not allow me to flounder in darkness, such is the patience of the “Word”.
Of his fullness
We have all had a share-
love following upon love.
(John 1:16)
Inner drama
Inner drama
At times I get lost in the inner drama,
its reflection projected on the world outside,
as I walk the maze of my own reflections,
until tired I sense that I am the observer again
and the gaze simply waits,
loves, and welcomes
me, the prodigal son back home.
Mercy
Mercy
Christ mercy sees all, understands all and because of that can forgive all. No human can do that. We judge beyond what is useful for us, as well as for the one who is condemned. Actions should to be judged and if needed, something needs to be done about those events. However a human being, created in the image and likeness of God and beloved of God, a true ‘thou’ to God…. well when we try to judge at that level we will always lose out. For mankind the difference between the worst and the best seems great, but before God I am not sure that is true. The human heart is deep and much is hidden there, even from ourselves, which is why we cannot even judge ourselves, again at that level. God as St. Paul says is “yes”, that cannot be said for humans. For “no’ is perhaps more common than we would suppose and the fruit of that is bitter indeed.
Connection broken
Connection broken
The world is real,
evil and stupidity happen
yet when compassion is lost,
the inner connection broken,
all that is left is chaos.
Laughter
Laughter
We see ourselves in others, so it is better to be able to laugh than to scorn,
to become playful than to mourn, about what is actually quite funny
if truth be told.
Comedians deal with the human condition, making a safe place where laughter,
yes about ourselves can flow, with strangers all looking to the stage, laughing
with tears running down their faces at just what we can all do. Sometimes looking
over at those around them to feel the kinship that comes with the relief of being able
to say, "Yes, we are like that", but with a joyfulness and yes compassion.
Unique to each
Unique to each
Each carries a burden bringing with its own species of pain unique to each.
To judge another harshly is to forget ones own inner struggle
and suffering. Our failures are important since they lead to the realization
of our need for grace and healing. Allowing us to understand this is true for
all those around us who struggle and fall.
The Golden Rule
The Golden Rule
The Golden Rule is a call to deep inner probing. Without self knowledge, without the inner journey, our sensitivity towards others is severely curtailed. All that is possible is to react on the level of the instinctual, allowing anxiety and fear to fuel anger that is either directed outward or driven deep within. If compassion or empathy are missing or perhaps underdeveloped, then others can be treated in a cruel and unjust manner without any qualms of conscience. Others are just objects, chess pieces to move around at will. Or if the pieces will not cooperate, then they are rejected and if possible, discarded. The less developed sensitivity towards others is, the deeper the reaction when they themselves are treated unjustly.
Prayer/trust
Prayer/trust
There are as many ways to pray as there are people. While it is true that we are very much alike, yet, the life that we each have within is unique. One reason that communication is so difficult is because ‘words’ have to be interrupted, so misunderstandings are easy, common and oftentimes painful. Many as they go through life simply give up trying to be heard and understood by others. Perhaps the trick is to seek to understand, rather than to be understood, as is stated in the prayer of St. Francis.
Prayer is about having a personal relationship with the transcendent. Prayer, I believe, is also a response to an invitation, for when we commune with God it is a response to grace. In the Christian faith, God is revealed as a God who longs for us, pursues us throughout our lives and took flesh to ‘tabernacle’ with us. For many this is hard to believe and I can understand that. In prayer, God slowly and patiently draws us ever deeper into the mystery of his tenderness and compassion for all living things, leading us slowly at our own pace, to also develop an ability to simply be with others, without the need to judge, hate and reject.
For me, Jesus Christ is fully human, who was not bound by fear and who did not fear reality but faced it fully. He experienced great suffering and died a horrible death, yet he did not succumb to what is considered a normal response. He did not hate nor seek revenge, but simply forgave. He did not hide from loves demands, which is to see deeply into the heart, ones own and others and not to quail at what is found there. He could not escape into bitterness, resentment, hatred or the need for revenge…. that I would experience if I had to go through a fraction of what he did. In fact I struggle with the above; as I guess do most humans. So to pray is to enter relationship with a personal, loving awareness, which became one with us and is one with us. Prayer is an opening up an oasis in the inner desert, which slowly grows into the healing streams of living water, that truly flow from the author of life.
The spiritual life is about allowing grace to do its work. The fire of divine love will only work with us at the level we are ready for and open to. Prayer can actually be dangerous, for it does not lead to just peace and joy, for those are part of it, just like any other relationship. There are also the demands of love. One demand is to grow in trust. Growth into trust comes from a deep awareness of inner fragmentation and failure in the struggle to have a deeper more loving commitment to Christ or God. Trust comes from understanding that all is already known; there is nothing to hide, for we are really naked before God. We are loved, simply that. Trust allows us to not believe what our inner voices scream or whisper at us. Prayer slowly allows us to hear a deeper voice, one of continual invitation to come deeper, to look towards what beckons and not get stuck in an endless cycles of neurotic guilt and self pity. Letting go is a true death, made often in darkness, pain and fear. Trust allows us to simply not believe such mutterings but to answer the eternal summons that God offers all of his creatures.
We are truly seen; something perhaps, both desired and feared. Of course I writing about my own struggle in my walk of faith and not implying anything about those who will read this.
The gaze
The gaze
O Lord Jesus, you know my path, nothing is hidden from you, nor can I hide from your gaze. Nothing that I experience, think or feel can escape your scrutiny. Your see my heart in its totality.
My history is before you. My seeking and my fleeing, my striving and yes at times my giving up and wanting only to sink into the void, away from your gaze.
Yet Lord, what keeps me from despair, is in the knowledge that you see it all and still you pursue me. There is nothing to fear, no need to hide, for my body, mind and soul are stripped bare before your. You see all, while even with my self, I know and understand little.
Your judge rightly, because you see and understand, while I judge harshly, myself as well as others, because I see only the surface and understand little. I am one of the greatest mysteries to myself, often going in three different directions at once if not focused on you. All is finite, passing, like the mist before the Sun. In my inner chaos, you are the stable point, which embraces, heals and encourages me to continue, to look to you and not to myself. For are you not the eternal center, the unmoving source of all movement?
In you is our rest and fulfillment, where all inner chaos comes together under your gaze of love, healing and freely given mercy and grace. All inner voices become still, clamoring ends, just silence, rest and a letting go.
The moment (talk on anger and rage)
The moment
(talk on anger and rage)
A problem not to be solved but a myster to be lived
Because of my own experience with anger and how I deal with it, I tend to think in terms of an ‘event’. That moment when everything changes and because for me this ‘event’ happened when I was just two years old, I unconsciously believe that it is the same for everyone. I know that many like me actually did wake up very early to their aloneness and separation from others, brought about by situation that led to the fragmentation of the personality. An inner village created of inner voices, all clambering for attention and obedience. A few for me seem wise. One voice almost seems to be from another world. Giving sage advice and warnings about what would happen if I were to go down certain roads.
I woke up suddenly by myself, barely two years old; separated from my mother, placed in a cold and dark world, with very little if any love or affection available. As an adult, I now know that what my parents did had to be done, forcing me to stay in this ‘cold dark place’ for over a year’. For me it became my reality and I went far away from everyone. From my mother especially, since she was the one who abandoned me. Since I was awakened I no longer thought or experienced the world as safe, warm, and loving, in fact I was no longer a child…two years old and a little adult, just without the ability to figure things out, only wanting to survive in the dark, knowing that I was on my own.
One way I surived was to close my emotions off. When my mother visited, I can still remember the first time; she tried to coax me to respond to her. I just sat in the chair looking at a comic, knowing that she was leaving again, so I was not going to open myself to another wrenching experience of being abandoned. So it went. In a year they were able to get us back and find a place to live that they could afford. My parents were not cruel or abusive, and if I had been placed in the home a few months earlier, or later, conceivably it would have been different. So I had my path set before me, and I went from there.
When young I was quiet, dark, introverted and invented an inner world where there was no God, only death and annihilation. When seven years of age, I saw a movie about gypsies and death…. which made a big impression on me, so the next day I entered into a universe in which this was the only truth. No hope, or real feeling, just coldness and a waiting for the end. I did not think this unusual at the time, and don’t now actually; it was simply the world I had become acquainted with. Small children have no real frame of reference to compare with, it just is. I did not feel anger, or know that I was in an inner rage, trying desperately not to be swallowed up by this inner ice filed cavern that beckoned me. My inner universe with all of its horrors was after all my creation, so it was a place to face my fears safely, though at that young age, not my anger and rage. Facing those demons had to come much later. Perhaps I would have stared screaming and would have been unable to stop if I dove into that inner ocean. In order to walk the path that life had thrown at me, I had to make up my own map on how to simply make it through the day….don’t we all? I learned to face my fears from this exercise and it has served me well and has slowly helped me in my healing process. Which I believe is the path we are all on.
I hated being young, felt out of place, but adapted. Being part of a large family is helpful and I learned to relate, to get along and this was healing and useful. Apart from my utter hatred of school, my dislike of boy scouts and little league, life was not too bad. I grew up in Panama Canal Zone. We moved there when I was ten and it was a glorious Huckleberry Finn life for a young boy. Though I did not trust anyone, it was not a conscious choice, just something that was so much a part of me that it was simply what was, I could not name the way I related to others, so could not deal with it. A good thing, our responses to reality can be protective for a time and I feel at that time in my life, this was still helpful for me. Though like all other protective barriers, they need to be eventually let down and discarded.
In the Navy I lifted weights, got bulked up…. it was armor. I did not want anyone to mess with me and if they did, well they would be in trouble. There was a part of me that really wanted to fight, but like I said above, there was that inner voice, different from the others, telling me not to go down that path. I always had a tight control over my emotions. I was a slow grower, so my older brother was a lot bigger than I was and my younger brother, who grew normally, was my exact same size. We fought a lot and at least with my younger brother I won most of the time, for I was colder, more unfeeling and capable of greater cruelty that he was, I could shut down, he could not. My younger brother has always had a bigger heart than mine and closer to his emotions. I think at that time of my life I looked upon that as a weakness, now it is a lifeline for me, my emotions. One day, I got my first warning about my inner rage. David was taunting me for days and I was trying not to respond; in other words I swallowed it and went inward. He would not stop. So one morning he said something to me and I lost it, I grabbed a nail file and went after him, making a deep gash in his back that went all the way from his left shoulder to the middle of his back near his spine. This experience alerted me to the fact that I had a problem and I had best deal with it differently. Well that kind of ‘dealing’ was a lesson that I worked on and I guess I still am. I never acted out that way again; it was something I promised myself, not to take out my pain on others, no matter what they did to me. He was my brother, not my enemy and I did love him.
In the forty years I have been here, this inner journey of healing and trust has slowly moved forward on the path that I have chosen. Though I have made it slower than it needed to be, for I would often back off from walking this path. I think what brings us together, even if our stories are different, is that experience of inner anger and rage that seems to have no closure. The goad that spurs us forward, seeking answers and inner freedom.
Not everyone has the same experience that I had. Some have the event much later, one that shatters their life, taking them places that before they may have thought not possible. Innocence is lost every time we have an event like that, something that cannot be regained. I am sure there are some here whose story would make mine seem like a fairy tale, a life protected from what some of you had to go through. Yet even though we have different stories, the outcome is the same if we are open to it. Our life’s experience creates a bridge that makes us part of a very large clan. People we can talk to, be seen and heard, and hopefully helped along the path of healing, we are not alone, it is good to know that I believe.
The path
The path
Inner struggle is our common lot
we each have our path,
anger or lust, anxiety or fear,
past memories that haunt us,
or abuse that fills us with shame,
a goad to keep us asking,
seeking answers and healing,
a journey that takes a life time,
of failure and success,
yet real healing takes place deep,
it is the work of grace,
it happens when we take one step at a time,
while faith tells us God is at work.
Bits and pieces
Bits and pieces
You never know when a piece of your heart will be left behind,
sneaks up on you, perhaps for the good;
that way no defense can be built for protection,
for to lose a part of the heart
means that a connection is made with someone,
even strangers at times.
On North Decatur road, going towards Emory,
I stopped at my millionth light,
it seems that I never get a green light,
so as I was waiting I causally looked to my right
and there in a Jazzy chair was a elderly women,
waiting for a bus I would venture,
drinking from a water bottle.
As I looked, her eyes connected with mine,
she smiled and I did the same for her,
then looked forward and soon drove off.
Yet something was left behind.
I thought about her, if she was safe,
wondering how her life was,
is loneliness a big part of her life
or does she have a loving family
to surround her and protect her from harm?
Yes a piece of me stayed with her
and all throughout my drive she remained within my mind,
silly I know, but I prayed for her,
hoping that she would get home safe.
Caught unawares like that brings me pain,
also frustration for all the people in the world
alone, suffering, with no one to help.
Perhaps she was a symbol for me for I could not know
if her life was good and pleasant, or painful and lonely.
So I prayed for all those she represented,
the forgotten, the hidden,
those overlooked because they have no importance,
power or money.
Yes bits and pieces scattered all over,
here and there in the most unlooked for places,
images decades old of those I have met unawares
and touched or perhaps pierced….with what I do not know,
we mirror each other, so perhaps in prayer, we represent all,
conscious of that reality or not,
does not matter ,
perhaps we do carry each others burdens,
deep images of our souls,
or perhaps just mine,
and maybe,
I am crazy.
Deepening trust
Life is about letting go, moving into another space that is more expansive and freeing than the one lived in before. It is about idols being demolished and the courage to face fear and anxious concern and moving forward in trust. So ideas about 'god', which are just projections of our own human limitations, are difficult to let go of.... and a kind of death is needed for that to happen. Most of us do it slowly throughout our life, others can have a profound experience (NDE one of them) that places them apart from the rest of us who live in faith and hope and yes an ever deepening trust in a love that is infinite.
None of our experiences are prototypes for others; we are unique, so our paths, even if we share a certain traditions are different from each person on the way. Patience is needed for those of us who trudge along within our own traditions, imperfect as they are, yet we do grow in love and compassion as we draw close to the mystery we call God, the infinite, and other, beyond all image and understanding. We all stutter when trying to explain the "why" of our different paths, but they are important and each needs to be respected.
I was never taught to hate, kill or to malign others who think differently than I do, for we are all made in the image and likeness of God. It is when we love and are compassionate that we live out that image.
Shared Death Experiences
Luke
Luke
In working with the elderly, there are many rewards that come with the job. One of perks is the humorous exchanges that can take place at unexpected times. I not sure anyone could stay in the care giving profession if they did not have a sense of humor and were unable to laugh, not only at themselves, but also with those that they take care of. It certainly helps with the stress which can be extreme at times.
Luke is 100 years old and still gets around on his own. He needs little care and uses his rollator to zoom around the facility here. In fact I have to tell him at times to slow down. He just laughs at me and says; “Mark you worry too much, I don’t plan on falling”. So we have the same conversation about that. I always ask him when he is going to plan his fall, so that I can stop worrying about it until then. He looks me up and down, laughs and speeds off for who knows where. I always smile at these little talks, but I still worry, it goes with the job. In the last year his has become more fragile, so I think my worry is warranted, but happy he doesn’t, one worrier is enough in any relationship.
Luke likes to get up at 6 AM every morning. He also likes to set his 3 alarms and his 2 timers at different intervals during the night. I have never been able to figure out his system, no matter how hard I have tried. He believes being awakened at intervals during the night will make sure that he does not oversleep. This morning one of his more irritating timers went off. It rings and buzzes; I hate buzzing. Gives me a headache and I also grind my teeth and squint….I can be into drama once in awhile. So I went in and could not find the bloody contraption. “Luke, why do you have to keep getting up every two hours at night, you need your sleep”? I was a little frustrated, but also amused at this continuing saga between Luke and myself. He always looks at me in a certain way and again waves me off. Meanwhile the bloody timer was buzzing away. I looked everywhere, and then found it in one of the folds of his covers. The main reason I am concerned about his sleep, is his severe sleep Apnea. He gets very little sleep as it is. He refuses to use the machine and I don’t really blame him. If the machine was used he would not be able to hear his many clock and timers, which would be good for me, but I guess not for him…..God bless his heart.
I remember when he first came into the full care ward. I was checking up on him to see if he was alright and to let him know lunch will be served in 30 minutes. I found him in bed, not breathing. At this time I did not know how severe his Apnea was. So I waited for a minute and he still was not breathing. I shook him gently but there was no response. So I called the Nurse and said; “Rose, you won’t believe this but I think Luke just died”. She said “What!” It was then I heard Luke give off the tell tale snort that he was starting to breathe again. So I said “never mind, he is ok”. Did not know how severe his apnea was. Later Rose and I laughed about it, my call, her response and Luke’s snort.
Luke loves his junk mail. He thinks that the letters he gets from Readers Digest are personal and he feels duty bound to always respond, along with the other groups that prey on old people. We intersect some of his trash mail, but allow most of it to go through. He can’t be taken advantage of, because he has no money to send them. Who knows, one day he may strike it rich. For after all there is only a 1 in a 250 million chance to win. Someone has to win after all. When I try to talk to him about these ‘con’ organizations, he just, yet again, waves his hand at me and laughs. “You worry too much”. This is probably true.
He has lots of visitors and they bring him a great deal of food, Polish food. Most of his friends are from the Polish community here in the Atlanta. I love to watch them together; they are loud, joke and laugh, and yes I can’t understand any of it. Which is unimportant, the love present and the delight that they find in each other, does not need to be translated. They really love Luke, they are his extended family and I am grateful that they are so loyal too him. Probably one of the reasons he is still with us.
One of my mind pictures of Luke shows him dancing in circles moving in slow motion, waving his hands, laughing with his eyes closed, surrounded by his many friends who are clapping and urging him on. I think that sums him up, he dances through life and loves every minute of it.
Luke is well loved, though he can be frustrating at times, but perhaps that is why he is loved. He is a very colorful personality and I would not want to change anything about him. I also hope he lives another few years. Though he is getting tired, he is after all 100 years old.
Ron
The last four months have been rough for both Ron (not his real name) and me. Since his fall, which happened in early May, he has shown signs of confusion, often forgetting where he is at. The confusion is not a constant, but it does not seem to be getting better. Since his lungs have been compromised over the years with bouts of pneumonia, it is thought that this is slowly causing the brain to die, hence his deepening confusion. This process seems to be very gradual for Ron, so some days are much better than others. It is like he has these islands of memory that are connected by bridges and sometimes the bridges are in a raised position, causing him to momentarily forget where he is and even the memories of his not so distant past.
What also happens in old age in many is now manifesting in Ron. The filter that I know that I have, that keeps me from saying or doing inappropriate things, is now weakened in Ron. So anything goes when it comes to how he relates to those around him. I have known him for many years and in the past have gotten some indications of these issues that he has tried to keep in check all his life. He has a tendency to clinging and showing extreme jealously towards his friends. Now that the filters are gone this has become full blown and directed towards me. To say the least, this can be a bit wearisome, but it goes with the job. He will have the strangest reactions to me. For instance if I say I will be in his room to help him to bed at 8PM and I am just a few minutes late, he will lambaste me and accuse me of wanting to get rid of him. Or that I am tired of taking care of him. I try not to respond, or perhaps a better way to put it, I seek not to show him my impatience. He is after all not responsible for what is going on. He will often apologize later and I of course accept it. I also tell him that he may not be able to stop reacting the way he does, but he can always talk to me about it afterward.
One night things became very bad. He threw a class of water at me after accusing me of liking others more than himself. Now this may not seem serious, but in reality it is an act of violence, pointing to the fact that his emotions can lead to some serious situations. Also his jealousy can lead him to hurt someone who he thinks, wrongfully, that I prefer them to him. In reality of course there is no friendship, at least not in the way he thinks or wants it to be, but I do in fact care for him. His suffering is real and so we are trying to find ways to alleviate his distress.
We contacted a physiatrist to see if his clinic could help us with some medication. Not to simply make him more manageable, but to help him to be able to think more clearly and rationally. A nurse came out and interviewed him and also talked with us about the situation. It was decided that he did not need to go to their facility but medications could be tried in house. If there was no improvement, the need may arise for him to come to their hospital for evaluation. We have used them before and they have always been a great help to us.
He started the meds four weeks ago, so the effects are still spotty. This is good, spotty is better than nothing. So there is hope that what he is taking will continue to improve his situation. It also allows me to be able to talk to him when he gets trapped in one of his slides into anxious concern over our relationship. I take the emotional suffering that he is going through seriously, for this kind of pain can be more severe than physical suffering, since it is harder to treat.
I try to take him out for a meal a couple of times a month. His family lives to far away to be able to do that; though they often call him. They have a good, loving relationship with him and in fact, it is because of them that I think Ron has done as well as he has over the years. They have been a steady support for him in their love and acceptance. They were just here for a weeks visit last month and treated him like a king. So yesterday he wanted to go somewhere that serves Manhattans, one of his favorite drinks. The last two places we went to did not have the ‘bitters’ necessary to make them for him. He wanted a steak, so went to Longhorns and found that they did have the ingredients needed to make him what he desired.
Just before we left for our luncheon, he started yelling at me that I was trying to get out of taking him out. So I decided, because he is on the new medicine to confront him on this. So I gently told him that if I promised him I was taking him to lunch, I would keep that pledge and would not renege. I also communicated to him that I was getting tired of his outburst. I knew I was taking a chance in responding to him in this manner, but felt that I need to say it, for my own sake, if not just for his. To my surprise he listened to me and quieted down and was better. It also dissipated my own frustration.
We got to the restaurant early, about 11:15. Like to get him in before the crowds arrive. He needs assistance and I wanted to get a good table near the front of the establishment. It was a very pleasant lunch. He got a sirloin and I wanting to be good, got chicken. The week before I was there with a friend and got the 18oz Rib eye. So I really needed to be abstentious. My doctor would kill me if he knew that I had a steak that big. He had his Manhattan and then wanted a beer. So it was interesting getting him back to the car. I always tell him to put pressure on my arm when walking him; he is very unsteady in his gait and weak. After a couple of drinks I have to be more careful with him, but it is humorous and he laughs at himself for not being able to hold his liquor like he used to. So we got home and he was happy and took a nap.
He struggles with himself over his tendency to get jealous of those he considers his friends. I try not to react when he loses control, so together I think we will be able to keep a good relationship. He is afraid of being alone and dying with no one at his bedside. At times he thinks we are going to throw him out onto the street and I have to spend some time talking to him about that and assuring him that will never happen. I remember on night he yelled at me that he will never trust me again, for I was a few minutes late, yet again. So I said “fine, don’t trust me, but I will take care of you anyway”. I guess it was the right thing to say, for he quieted down and sleep all night peacefully.
Ron is a good man, who has struggled all of his life with relational problems, perhaps if he can learn to trust me a little bit more it could lead to some inner healing. If not, well all I can do is to carry out the best that I can. Which is spotty in how good that actually is, for I also have my own struggle that I have been dealing with all of my life. Who knows what my old age will be like when my filters drop.
Big family R us
Big family R us
It is of course true that growing up in a big family can be rough. I had 5 brothers and 4 sisters, so there was a lot going on in our household. The boys fought a lot, the sisters liked to watch. There were chores that were also squabbled over, so what would take a mere 30 minutes to finish was often stretched for more than an hour or even longer. My parents would often be tired and grouchy, which is understandable, but they were never abusive towards us. There was a few times when dad lost it and starting spanking a little more than he should have, but mom would always say, “That is enough Bob” and he would stop. They were actually very patient with us and loving most of the time.
There are also lots of fond memories and many of them revolve around our TV set. We had one set in the living room and at night most of us would lie on the floor in front of the screen, eating oranges and spitting the seeds out onto the floor…. hundreds of seeds. There was always a running commentary on whatever was being shown, which often led to fits of laughter. One night we started and dad got a tad annoyed with us and told us to stop “NOW!” So we became silent and then someone would snicker and we would start all over again. We laughed so long and hard that we could not breathe and our stomachs would hurt, we would stop for a short time and begin again. Usually dad would get caught up in the fun and join us. So TV for the family was not just a way to get absorbed in the show, but a way to actually have fun together.
There were often some kids from the neighborhood that loved to come over to our house. So they would often join in, or watch dumbfounded at our antics. We talked fast and loud and of course we would have pet phrases that had meaning only to us. On weekends we could watch TV until around 11 PM, then mom would turn off the TV and everyone would get up to either go home, or for us to go to bed. When we had oranges, the floor would be covered with seeds, wall to wall, so we would sweep up quickly and call it a night.
Well most nights. One night Robert and I went to our room. I was in the top bunk and he of course on the bottom. We are both avid readers so we would usually spend time reading before sleep. On this night Robert decided to see if he could get me to fly off of my bed. He placed both feet directly under me and shoved as hard as he could. Well I left my bed and landed on the floor. I immediately got up and I went for him. Usually, he being much bigger than me would quickly win any scuffle we had, but this night was not like any other night. So we fought, hitting each other, but not too hard, but we did do a lot of pushing. The first thing that went was our bunk bed; it fell over to the side. Then I shoved Robert into the dresser and the lamp feel off with a bang and along with our shouting and cussing, well everyone was listening, including Dad. He arrived and began pounding on our door demanding what was going on. So Robert and I got very quiet and I moved the dresser out of the way of the door and peeked out. My dad was red as a beet, really mad and wanting ‘bear’ as the saying goes. So I looked up at him innocently and said “why nothing is going on”. To my surprise my dad said ok and simply left. Having a lot of brothers of his own, knew what was going on and just wanted to make sure we were not hurting each other. We never harmed each other when fighting, no matter how intense it got, or if one of us thought the other was hurt, we would stop fighting at once.
We fought a lot in my family, but we also laughed and helped each out when needed. We had chores; a paper route one of them and that is another story. The Dohle boys were also well known for their ability to babysit. Having so many younger brothers and sisters we knew how to clean diapers in the toilet, which was a plus for mothers and also how to burp babies, turn them in crib etc. We did not get paid much, but it all went to the community pot. Mom would always greet us at the door with her hand out and a smile on her face. I did not mind and neither did Robert, it was after all for the family.
While it is true that in a big family personal attention is not always possible, yet there was a strong sense of belonging and also that personal efforts for the well being of the clan were not done in vain and were noted and appreciated. I am far from being perfect and I still have problems that I am still working on that comes from being a member of a tribe the size of mine. The good points however far out weigh the negative. If I could go back in time, I doubt I would change much, if anything. Our past forms us but also allows opportunities to work towards healing as well as closure. Still on the way and perhaps I will die before I get all the ducks in a row, but I am not sure that is all that important. Just trying to keep it simple keeps me busy enough.
Quiet memory
Quiet memory
Memories of the past are usually nostalgic. Ordinary moments made perfect with out traces of pain, suffering, or regret. When I allow myself to make one of these reflective journeys to my youthful past, most will fall under this category. Not all however. I have to go quite a ways back to remember one of my fondest experiences that took place with my family. It is in Panama, Canal Zone and I was 14 years old. I guess that would be 1963 and a freshman in High School.
It was a typical evening. With 8 other brothers and sisters still living at home, things were usually pretty noisy and chaotic. Music, TV, some fighting and yelling along with no privacy, made things tense for me. So I went to my room and closed the door. I was thankful that my brother Robert was out, so I had the place to myself. Being the second oldest of those still at home, I had the honor of having a bed room with just one other person. My head hurt and I just wanted some quiet. I took some aspirin and went to bed early. I guess it was about 10 in the evening when my mother came in and asked if I wanted to go to the beach and hunt sea turtles. My answer was to jump out of bed and get dressed as fast as possible. My mother’s eyes laughed when she saw how happy I was.
Panama had the most beautiful full moons. I would often go for long walks by myself so that I could enjoy the beauty of the night. Some nights were so bright, that there were times that I could actually read from a book if I wanted to. It was also on full moons during three months of the year that sea turtles would crawl onto the beach to lay their eggs. So once or twice a year some of us would go out and see if we could catch one. There would usually be six of us that went.
Our supplies were simple. Just coffee and an old black pot to place near the fire for the water to boil. Baloney sandwiches were also included and that was it. Simple and sweet, no great planning was necessary. The hunting was just an excuse for going, since we only caught one in all the years that we spent time on the beach. It was a 45 minute drive to our destination, though if a ship were going through the locks we would have to wait for a time. I loved the drive so much that I did not mind waiting, neither did anyone else.
When we arrived, it was a about 12 AM. As we drove down to our regular place, we could see a few fires along the way, but none were within a mile of our usual stop. We spent some time getting enough drift wood for the fire and soon the fire was blazing, with the old faithful coffee pot sitting in a safe place, allowing the water inside to boil and make our coffee. The coffee was served black, strong and very bitter.
There was not much talking. All we would do is sit by the fire and watch the flames and listen to the waves. We would take turns walking the beach two by two. On this night it was with mom and we slowly began our trek down the beach. I felt so much at peace that night. It was Friday, so there was no school to worry about; all I had to do was to be present to my mom, the ocean and of course looking for a sea turtle. I was always afraid we would actually find one; for me it would ruin the trip. I never told anyone that of course. We did talk a little but there was no need for much of it. I think we were all grateful to be out of the house, the noise and the chaos. All we had to do was to be together. So yes this was a perfect time for me, something short and sweet and I guess I have very few memories like this one, but because they are rare, their beauty and power are that much greater.
The golden key
Love heals people, both those who give it, and
the ones who receive it.
Karl Menninger
Love is the golden key, the only cure for isolation, fear, regret and self pity. It is about letting others be. It is the only way people prosper, giving them the freedom to walk down their path without giving in to the need to change or control them. This can sound easy and may make one feel good to read the above, but in reality it can be a very painful process.
I am not an object that can be owned and controlled, and neither are the people who I know and love in my life. Control comes into the picture when this is forgotten and I objectify others. Some so call loves can be experienced as a form of emotional suffocation when reduced to becoming a thing for another person. It is like reducing a vibrant, living and unique human being to the level of being a glass of water, meant only to slack someone’s thirst. The only alternative for the one being treated in such a manner is withdrawal.
Loneliness is something that most people feel at times in their lives. For some this state of affairs can last for years or even a lifetime. Seeking to find someone to take this away can lead to a worse state of affairs if those sought are sought as some kind of cure. Clinging works against itself, no one has the power to take away the deep pain that many feel in the depth of their souls.
The bridge builder between people is one based on common experience. When what is called ‘terminal uniqueness’’ is out grown and the lesson is learned that loneliness is an experience that most go through, then this empathy can lead to relationship that lead to healing. Embracing and clinging may look the same outwardly but they are coming from two differently stating points.
Healing comes from seeking to understand others, rather than being understood. It is in giving freely of our time and love that in the end we find inner healing. Others respond when they feel that are seen and respected. This leads to trust and the fruit of that is intimacy that leads to inner healing and a lessening of loneliness. Community is also discovered, for we see others as fellow travelers that need to be encouraged rather than controlled. Obsession is gone and the pain and frustration that flows from that state of being.
The pain of loneliness will lever go away completely, but true self love allows room for inner suffering without feeling the need to flee from it. Suffering endured and even embraced, this is a true paradox, leads to inner healing. The death of one way of life, that of clinging and controlling others, opens up to something deeper and broader, we become connected with others who will support us as we also encourage them on their own journeys through this often difficult life.
Love
Love is patient and kind;
Love is not jealous or boastful;
it is not arrogant or rude.
Love does not insist on its own way:
it is not irritable or resentful:
it does not rejoice at wrong,
but rejoices in the right.
Love bears all things,
believes all things,
hopes all things,
and endures all things.
1 Corinthians 13
The Road towards healing
We are healed of suffering only by experiencing it to the full.
By Marcel Proust
From Days of Healing-Days of hope
Published by Hazelden
How I wish healing was as easy as stepping into a shower, soaping up and then rinsing off. Afterwards there is a feeling of refreshment and cleansing. Life does not seem to be set up for our personal comfort and happiness. Whatever inner chaos I carry within me, will always manifest in some way that will cause me the maximum pain and embarrassment. My troubles don’t follow me, they are me. I have found that things don’t get better until I actually deal with this inner turmoil and even on some level embrace it. One of the hardest obstacles to overcome is my own self loathing and hatred that after all these years is still within me. Though not as strong as it seemed to be when I was younger and beginning the journey that most of us or on. The relationship that I have with myself, one that is based on self love and acceptance, is the difficult first step towards healing. I can’t seek healing if I don’t first respect myself and think that my life has meaning and is worthwhile.
Inner wounds heal by staying with the pain. Evading, or seeking to alleviate the pain before it can speak its truth to me will only make my life more difficult. Addictions, not just the main ones, like alcohol and drugs, but anything that I do to run from my inner anxiety, will without doubt, make one problem into two, or perhaps even more. A certain trust has to be developed in order to do this….the refusing to seek relief in self destructive ways. Also a conviction, that life is worthwhile and has a purpose; at least for me is necessary. This makes all the confusion, failures and starting over, meaningful and desirable, as strange as that may sound to some.
If I have a path and I am on a journey, I have come to believe it is not about finding something high and transcendent. It is about dealing with ‘my shit’, messy yes but if there is such a thing as God’s will for my life, it is that I have come to believe. A certain peace has to be let go of in order to begin the road towards healing. Self knowledge can often shatter peace for a time, but the pieces will come back together. Humpty Dumpty can be put together again. For me this involves an ever deepening, loving, relationship with my Higher Power, which is based on trust, no matter how dark things look, or feel to me. It is all about choice, often starting with small ones, leading slowly to an ever deeper freedom.
It is not magic this process, though there are times when some breakthroughs and healings may seem to be. Openness to life and not fearing the suffering that we all appear to have to go through opens up doors for healing to happen. This stance has to be made consciously; it is a choice to trust and often a hard one. I believe that for me, the easiest path would be to give in to cynicism, self loathing and despair. There is a melancholy pleasure to that. The victim unjustly sentenced to a life that often seems absurd and meaningless. To sink is easy; to swim, well that is another matter.
I believe that the benefits of recovery are limitless,
Today, I am patient, confident and will to be healed.
Days of Healing-Days of Joy
Published by Hazelden
Dancing and a lightness of being
Dancing and a lightness of being
I love dancing and my sense of rhythm is highly developed. My mom used to tell me that when I was a baby, I would gravitate towards the record player or radio and jump up and down in sync with whatever was playing and that if there were any adults present, found amusing. This talent of being able to find the rhythm is one of the most common gifts given to mankind. It is also, at least from my own experience, a source of profound joy and a healing connection with my body.
In sports I could not find that rhythm. I could never get over being self-conscious about how I performed. Self talk was the culprit. I would stand on home base with bat in hand, telling myself that I had to hit the ball. While I was thinking that, the ball went past me into the catcher’s mitt. Which only made me more anxious and so the cycle went. All sports did that to me. I would often avoid sports, though as a young teenager I did try to play in little league for a year. A bad year for me, just one embarrassment after another; I hated it. One of the freest things I ever did was to simply quit and go my own way.
The only times I ever preformed well at sports, happened when I did not have occasion to think. That was when I could actually hit the ball, or catch it. One day I hit a home run, the only time I was able to accomplish something that wonderful. I was so shocked I just stood there and stared at the ball going over one of the houses in Gulick Heights. I was stunned and finally ran the bases, after I noticed my team mates screaming at me to get my butt moving.
In the Navy I had a friend named John. He was an all around athlete and from time to time we would go to the tennis courts. I was hopeless, could not hit the ball no matter how many times I tried. Then one day I looked over at the corner of the court; there was a rabbit running across just before John served me. I simply turned and hit the ball and it was perfect. John was of course pleased and surprised but it never happened again. Needed more rabbits to distract me I guess.
On weekends, John and I would double date. On the dance floor he was clumsy and it would be my turn to try to get him to loosen up. He could not, he never learned to dance. He was too self conscious and like me with sports, spent too much time trying to tell his self to dance. The old saying is true, “you can’t dance and look at your feet”.
When a good song would start and I started to dance, it was like me jumping on a red beam of energy that would simply carry me. My blood would almost boil, my mind would be a rest and I was one with my body. No thought, no anxious concern, just the pure almost transcendent joy of movement.
On the naval base where I was stationed, the enlisted men’s club would have bands come in and play. So I was there most Friday nights. One night I noticed one of the Waves that I knew vaguely. She was from New Mexico. So I went over and asked to if she would dance with me. She looked at me not sure who I was but in the end said yes. The song that came on was one with a pounding beat, a lot of bass, so it was perfect. I asked her if she could jitterbug and she said yes. So we started and it was magical. It was like one person dancing. We twirled and jumped and went wild. She seemed to understand each subtle lead that I gave her. It was as if we were dancing together for years; it was a perfect moment.
That moment actually lasted for 30 minutes. The band kept playing the tune for us and soon we were the only ones on the dance floor. I was not self conscious and neither was she. There was no feeling of being tired; only a lightness of being that carried both of us effortlessly. When the song came to an end, I thanked her and she smiled and embraced me.
I never saw her again. She did however teach me a valuable lesson on why I loved dancing so much. After this experience I relived many memories from my past that involved dancing. I became conscious of one important aspect. When dancing my mind was at peace; something that I knew but never really thought about it. This led me to understand that possibly that same kind of joy was what athletes experienced when they played their sports.
All of my brothers were good at sports and I regret that I did not have that gift. Though if I had to choose between dancing and sports. I would choose dancing. For me the movement and he rhythm, allows me to experience the closest thing to flying there is, so it was worth it. No regrets.
Tea connections
Tea connections
I have always loved tea. My mother allowed us as children to have tea at breakfast in the mornings when we had grilled cheese sandwiches. Well I guess I also love grilled cheese sandwiches as well, nothing goes better together. She would make the tea very sweet and we would have it white, thick with cream and sometimes she would put in cinnamon as well. When I came home from school she would also have tea ready if anyone wanted it. Not sure about my other siblings, but I always took up the offer. Unlike coffee, tea relaxes me, especially in the morning.
When I joined the Navy I got into habit of drinking coffee. Lots of it, even though I never could I actually liked it. Now when I do drink coffee, perhaps one or two cups a day, I like it black and bitter. However, it can come nowhere near to what tea does for me.
I used to just drink black tea. In the last year, I have begun to imbibe green and white teas everyday. I like to get up in the morning very early. The first thing I do after making up my bed (a little OCD about that by the way, but that is another story), I go in and make a pot of boiling water for my tea. While the water is getting ready, I do some of my infirmiran chores. So when I come back everything is ready. I love the ritual of setting it up. Same cup, a big one, actually it holds three cups worth of water. It is red and white with a painting of Santa on both sides. Green and white teas are mixed; sometimes I use a green or white tea that is flavored with peach or strawberry. I still use a lot of sweetener, but I now drink it black. I like the tea strong, so I let it soak between four and six minutes. The first sip is always the best and I can feel my body relaxing into my morning routine.
I suppose one of the good things about aging is that some routines are not only needed but actually pleasant. After my early morning time, the rest of the day can be very chaotic, which I do well at as well. In fact I am not sure I would want a set routine for the rest of the day. Just the mornings thank you.
One of the cool things about being an early bird is that the early morning is very quiet. So I can read, write, and pray at that time without being disturbed, or actually falling back to asleep. Which happens if I try to read in the early afternoon; one of the downsides about being an early bird….so the tea and the quiet time, have become a very good ritual for me and it sets me up for the rest of the day.
I think my love of tea is a direct connection to parts of my childhood that were happy and I was content. Perhaps small pockets of time, but something important none the less. I remember when I was about six; I brought home an illustrated copy of “Alice in wonderland”. The only thing I remember from the book at that specific time, is a drawing in the book. The drawing showed the tea party and yes, of course, the bottomless pot of tea. I looked at my mom and said: “oh wow, all the tea I want and it has cream in it I bet”. My mother just laughed, but that image has never left me.
Hamburgers are the same, for when I go to “Steak and shake”; it never fails when I bite into one of their ‘steak burgers’… that without fail I get images of my dad bringing in hamburgers and fries. My two older brothers (Skip and Robert) and I used to go and stay at the gas station that my dad owned for a bit in East St. Louis. I also think David might have also been there as well, he is 17 months younger than me. The past is alive and well for me when it comes to the foods that I perhaps like more than I should.
One day, Judy, a very good friend invited me for tea. I use a mug, with Santa painted on it. While Judy, uses these very beautiful tea cups, which I like for having tea with her. However in my day to day life, I need something a bit bigger and sturdier. This tea ceremony or ritual I think brings us closer together. We are relaxed and just talk and sip our tea and have cakes that she brings.
I think tea allows me a space to heal and be quiet. The little ritual is a direct connection with my past and that is something that I want to keep. I can see myself in 27 years from now, when 90, having my cup of tea in the morning, and remembering the good times with my mom and spending some quiet time. Though by then, I guess my whole day will be quiet, at least I hope so.
Government programs/Janet/ and the KISS principle
[center] Government programs/Janet/ and the KISS principle [/center]
Janet is always in financial trouble, even though she is receiving money from the government to help her to stay afloat. Three years ago she was getting $600.00 a month for disability. She is also on Medicaid, which helps with her medicines and doctor visits. Janet made the mistake of letting her case worker know that her boyfriend at the time helped her with her rent but did not emphasis the fact that it was not consistent, though helpful. The government reduced her monthly check to $400.00. Janet needs $700.00 for her rent. She has lived in a long term motel for eight years.
She tried to supplement her government subsidy by becoming a substitute teacher, working no more than twelve hours a month. She had to stop that if she wanted to keep her benefits. She could not afford to lose anymore money from her weekly check. So she is stuck. In any case, she is in her early seventies now, so work is out of the question, even if she could do it.
I don’t blame the government. There has to be cut off points in how much people can be helped and she is one of those caught in the crossfire. She can’t work a permanent job, for she has a very serious anxiety disorder. I experience the intensity of this affliction when she calls me five times on some nights to talk about one small problem For instances, each call is marked ‘urgent’. I put her number on ‘no ring’ mode and deal with her many voicemails when I have time. I also ask her to let me know if she has any immediate needs (prescriptions, rent, or some other medical need), to inform me of that in the first three messages, just in case I can’t listen to all of her calls.
So people do need help and there are many who give of their time and money to assist the disadvantaged they come in contact with. In a world full of people who need support, I have learned to just try to help those around me, and even then, only certain ones. I don’t have the money or the energy to do much more. Her brother helps me with some of her needs. He is afraid to get too close, since if she knew that he helps, she would be on the phone calling him five times a night about some minor problem. So she does not know that he helps with one weeks rent every month. Her brother is overwhelmed with helping other family members.
Janet is a worthwhile human being. Intelligent, still beautiful, witty, and yes in survival mode all the time; so a tad narcissistic, which is understandable. We have talked about that a few times. She has gone through a lot of people over the years. People try to help her, and then having to withdraw because it became so overwhelming for them, with no end in sight. She can be demanding when her anxiety levels go higher than usual….Which is actually most of the time. I also know that if I stopped helping her for whatever reason, I would be soon forgotten. I understand that. I believe that she is thankful for what I do, but that is the basis of our relationship. I know that and know that I am used. So boundaries are needed to keep me balanced and focused. If I was in her position I would be doing the same thing; of that I have no doubt. It is frightening to have to live in a world where there is little security and there is a very good chance that living on the street is a possibility, or a deep concern. So I am glad to help her in the ways that I can.
The government can’t do it all, so yes, others need to help if they can. I know that many can’t who would like to. Especially today when so many are in financial difficulty. I have come to understand that I live in a small pond, but in the pond there are people who come into my life that stick. Others come in and out of my life. The ones that stick, are the ones I feel on some level are the people I need to help, though I am free not to. A simplistic and perhaps even stupid way to look at life, but it helps to keep my head above water. Keeps away the “dohledrums”& hellip;. of which I tend to slip into more often than I would like to believe. So keeping my head above water is important for me. Being a practicing neurotic, I do tend to over think things. Actually drives some of my friends a little crazy at times. So on an important issue like Janet and how I help her; the ‘KISS’ principle applies….’keep it simple, stupid”.
Care giving
Care giving
Being a professional caregiver, one who works with others, in order to take care of the needs of those in their care, is different in many ways from the care that a family member has to give to a loved one. While it is true, that it is hard not to love those one takes care of in a nursing facility…. the intensity is of a different order entirely than that of a one on one, that is often experienced when taking care of a family member. Often times, those who are designated the ‘care giver’, for let’s say a parent, are often left alone in their job. So the level of exhaustion and stress can be much more for a one on one relationship that can last for years, and is at times fatal. For it is not uncommon for a family member, who is the only caregiver, to die before the one being taken care of does; for like I said, it is very stressful and often a job that is not appreciated by other family members. Of course there are many exceptions. Many families do come together and join in the care giving, which in the end draws everyone closer. When this does not happen it can often cause serious problems for the family that could last for years.
Then, for those of us who work within a group setting, will from time to time, find ourselves in relationship with a patient that can be very stressful and at times exhausting. Focus, relationship and codependency, can be a very difficult mix when trying to take care of someone. At times the charge will develop a fixation on one of the caregivers and become very demanding, petty and angry. This situation is understandable. It can be a very frightening situation for one who is ill, or perhaps advanced in years and is totally dependent on the care of others. So the fixation is a way to try to make the world a safer place in which they live. The problem is that the caregiver has other charges, and the constant pressure of being totally focused on the one fixated, can be draining.
I don’t like being in these kinds of situations, and I am glad they are rare, but I have a deep sadness when someone has to go through this kind of suffering, by demanding I be to them what it in fact impossible to achieve. So I try to simply remain myself. I listen to their jokes, keep interested in their families and try to be as kind and loving as I can; which helps most of the time. Perhaps one day I will learn what this kind of suffering is like, for I don’t think any of us knows how we will react when it is our turn to be taken care of on a permanent basis.
I am just glad that I can at times offset this kind of suffering by simply being present, though I learned that I can only do so much and then no more. It is not about doing, or being present to the one who is suffering through this…. I just can’t become something other than what I am. I think this saying “that cats and people can’t be herded”, is a deep truth. We can’t control one another. In a caregiver’s relationship it is understandable why the relationship can survive this kind of obsession, because it is easy to have compassion on someone who is struggling with a dreaded fatal illness, or is simply in advanced old age and needs constant care. They are in a place of vulnerability and dependency, so it is easy to make jumps and to keep things going. Also there can be some dementia which makes any kind of rational exchange impossible.
If I ever come to the point that I can’t make jumps for others in my care, then it is time for me to retire from this kind of work. We are called care givers for a reason, and while taking care of physical needs is important, it is by no means the central one. Those in nursing and personal care homes, also have emotional and spiritual needs that are also addressed, and at times take up a great deal of energy from those who take care of them. Of course I have my personal failures, but as long as I look upon my not being my best as that, a failure, then I will continue to try to become a better caregiver.
Sad to say this is not often the case in some establishments, there are just too many people to take care of, so oftentimes there is not much time to deal with deeper needs. I am glad I work in a small home, where time is available for the personal needs of our charges.
People aren’t plants, you just can’t feed and water them and then leave them alone. We are relational creatures and as long as we are conscious, relationships…. loving and caring ones are essential.
Chanting prayer
Chanting prayer
(I wrote this three years ago, William is still with us)
It was one of those mornings with William, a common event, yet not everyday,
so when it happens it is always somewhat of a surprise, though not a big one.
He wakes up, and gives me and whomever else is helping; for it takes two clean him,
a certain look, a WTF look, wary, cunning, fearful, trying to figure what is going on,
yet failing, so he becomes very angry, screaming, trying to get us away from him,
yet of course we can’t, like so many times before, it simply has to be done.
Quite a lot to do this good morning, a lot to clean, scrub, you know the usual,
though some morning can be a little busier than others, this was one of them.
So, we both take a deep breath and try to get it done as gently and as quickly as possible,
though it is not easy by any measurement.
Taking off night clothes, cleaning his skin, putting on medicines, and lotions,
takes a lot of time an energy,
though this morning he did not try to bite or kick; just screaming.
He told me lots of things about myself, I won’t go into it here,
so I just agreed with him; this stopped him for about six seconds,
then he started up again.
He has a lot of energy when angry, of course it is based on fear, he thinks,
falsely of course, yet true in his world, that we are trying to hurt him,
so he tries to defend himself the best way he can,
by throwing lots of verbal abuse, and some mornings physical.
We sometimes laugh, not of mockery, but just to get rid of the stress,
for some days are more difficult than others in dealing with this
God awful disease that reduces people to that state that William is in,
so laughter is one way of getting rid of the inner angst,
that perhaps most care givers feel from time to time, it is impossible to get away from,
it is perhaps there when not even averted to, it just waits for the time,
then lo it is there, it all of its gut wrenching sorrow, not often felt until later,
when the quiet allows it to arise.
So I told Bernie I would sit with him for awhile, while she got breakfast for the others,
I took him down to the little chapel as is my practice with him of late,
I tried to pray the rosary with him, but this time it did not work,
he was just to lost in his inner world of fear and anger at what we did to him.
So I sat and waited and watched with him. He says some very interesting thing when I listen,
much of it a poem of sorts, and yes he still chants from time to time,
haunting in its beauty, it touches my soul deeply as if he is crying for all of mankind,
yes all I can do is listen to him, be with him, but not much else,
sometimes there is only so much that can be done, then all you can do is just be with him.
This is some of the things he was chanting this morning:
“come down, come down,
you hurt me,
you help me,
come down, come down,
get me out of here
please why do they do what they do,
come down, come down,
get me out of here.
my belly hurts
where am I
come down, come down,
get me out of here
why won’t you help me?"
It resembles a song of sorts, also a psalm, a prayer, that I could certainly understand,
so I just sat and waited and watched with him, for that is all I could do.
I don’t know why I love this kind of thing, perhaps it is because this is one of the only worthwhile things I can think of doing. All else for me is just taking care of myself,
so guess this gets me out side of myself, perhaps I get more out of this than what I put in,
something I think about often, ponder, in end I don’t know,
for there is much I don’t understand, and as I get older,
have come to the realization,
that is ok.
Is it enough?
Is it enough?
Every once in awhile, either in my reading or in conversation with someone, I will hear this cliché (I don’t know what else to call it), “that one life is enough for me and that I do not fear death”. I often find this statement amusing as well as astonishing. Perhaps they are right, for there is life and then non-life, no middle ground, unless you want to add the dying process in as a factor. Of course if you do that the ‘what-ness’ of the dying process has to be clarified. Some say we start to die the day we are born, which I guess is true, since we only have so many days that we are granted in our short lives. Then there is diminishment, something that people over a certain age are very aware of. The slow wearing down of the body, along with its aches and pains and often accompanied by serious health problems, which are attended by and ever growing need for medicines that have to be taken everyday and the often irrational relationship (with ones meds) that is often present. This is something I can certainly attest to being of age, especially the medicine part.
In all my years of taking care of the elderly and dying I have met few who actually fear death. However the process of diminishment, well that is a different matter all together. For it is true, if one lives long enough, little by little, byte by byte, everything must be let go of. The fear of the fading of the beauty of youth, which has spawned a billion (I am sure it is more than that) dollar industry a year in the USA is a case in point. At times infecting many teenagers, who seek to try to measure up to the industries fantasy of the perfect body, thereby keeping the monies rolling in and anxiety levels high in many of our fellow citizens. Keeping them from enjoying life in the present, while seeking some impossible goal that even if reached must continue to be maintained. There is the lessening of physical strength along with the looks, which can lead to compulsive programs of self improvement that for some becomes the central theme of their life, with the time for simple maintenance taking up more and more time. So yes I think the fear of death is perhaps fueling these obsessions as people are often brainwashed into believing that being young is the real meaning of life and that aging is an evil that must be fought. However I do not think most people fall into these traps. In fact some go to the opposite extreme of not taking care of themselves at all, which can be based on simple denial of the whole process of aging.
For me there are days when I am at peace with the whole thing, I guess you could call it a philosophical mood of sorts, where I can look nothingness in the face and feel above it all, at peace with it. Then there are times when the subject fills me with terror and a frantic desire to slow the whole process down, which in reality only seems to be speeding up as I age. Then most of the time, I think I am only vaguely aware of my impending death, which my steadily mounting diminishments alert me to, whether I like it or not. From my limited experience it is the very young who can say that ‘one life is enough for them’, yet for them death is something way in the future, decades away, something unreal. In any case we do not witness our own death, which is what we do when we think about it. Death is something that is experienced, so how we will react before that event is an unknown. After Agnes found out that she had only two months to live (she actually lived for three more months), she had to work through a lot to get to a place of peace before she died. She found it hard at first to think that her ending was near and this at times brought out anger and also jealously towards all of those who were still in their cocoon of denial, or numb from some kind of philosophical or religious stance.
So perhaps we die in stages and how we accept it, or fight it, will bring us to some kind of authentic peace, or to ever deepening levels of denial. Though again, I have met few people who are in what can be called ‘old, old age’, all that fearful of death. Of course even though I have worked with many elderly, my experience is not all that extensive so I am sure there are perhaps many exceptions to what I have said.
Elizabeth Kubler Ross, who brought to our society’s awareness what the process of dying, is all about, made public an important insight that she learned from her observation and interaction with the dying. The two groups that died easiest were those who had a definite belief about death and also lived out of their beliefs. Atheist who believed that death was the end, and believers who believed but who also lived out of their faith, died easiest and with the most peace. The one group that struggled more with their impending demise, were those who believed but did not live their faith, in other words were in fact uncertain and non believers who also did not think through what their thinking and belief really entailed, in other words did not think about it much or at all. So I guess being true to oneself in living out whatever belief system held makes for a more peaceful passing.
In any case, for me, even though I am getting older and my aches and pains are increasing, my beauty fading, though not sure I ever had much of that, and my bodily strength slowly weakening, yet I would not want to be any younger. Once is enough for any passage or stage that must be lived out. Also, below the shifting moods, I sense ‘joy’ and “expectation” , for perhaps death is the beginning of living out the greatest mystery. I choose to believe this against my many doubts. For belief, whether for or against a conviction in the existence of the transcendent, is based on faith. I feel that if there is a scientific stance about God, death and the afterlife it is agnosticism. For science has nothing to say about such things, though some will try to use science to back up their beliefs, this goes for both theist and atheist.
The most important project
Those who speak the truth, who unmask and show their listeners what is underneath, are often hated, reviled, hounded and killed. Martin Luther King Jr., for instance, is still hated by many because he stripped away the mask of segregation and demanded that dignity be restored to his people…. in order to do this he often quoted from both the Old and New Testaments of the bible. He would not be silenced and the fear and rage he engendered was great; for to ask a culture to look at its collective undersides is dangerous business.
The truth he brought us to was not an unknown truth, it was just put aside. Evil becoming ordinary and so the worst kind of prejudice was made the law and achieved respectability…. well, it did for those who benefited from this social evil. For anyone who belonged to the majority class, the stronger element in our society (white, in this instance), a conversion of some kind would have to be endured, if participation in this kind of unjust system was participated in, when the call for change was responded to. So yes, it is understandable that Martin Luther King was hated and eventually killed. That is what happens to those who show us sides of ourselves and our cultures that we do not want to look at. I have no doubt that if I grew up in the South, let us say in the ’40s, I would have been just as racist as anyone else. For we are each a product of our time and we are each called to grow beyond it, though it is a long slow process for those who walk that road.
Jesus said an interesting thing to his family in the Gospel of John 7:7: “The world cannot hate you but it hates me because I testify of it that its works are evil”. We all know that there is much wrong not only in our own cultures, but actually in every culture throughout history and perhaps it may be getting worse in some ways. Evil seems to be that which consumes all that is around it, objectifying everything, seeing and valuing things and people on a scale that is narcissist to its core. This kind of thing is so common that it is fact considered normal and good, or perhaps unavoidable, which at this time in our history and evolution seems to be true.
Perhaps in fact, the most important project in our lives is to “love God with our whole heart and our neighbor as ourselves”. So everything that is done, no matter if it is approved by our prevailing culture and yes perhaps even our different religions, if not based on the above, is in fact evil; that which sucks the life out of others.
The bottom line in capitalist countries is profit; everything else is secondary and actually unimportant. Products are often presented for our consumption that are in fact dangerous, yet these companies have the legal right to advertise whatever it is they wish to foist on the public. The long term effect is not considered as important. Would that be a form of evil? Foods presented on Saturday mornings TV directed directly at children so that they will pester their parents to buy these ‘snacks’, even though they have long range health consequences, that will only tax our health system further in the future. Is this life affirming for all involved, or is it manipulative and destructive? Does this show love towards the audience that is in some instances brainwashed into buying and perhaps becoming addicted. Fast foods, which I love by the way, are loaded with fat and salt, the intent being to make those who eat it addicted and to come back for more. Yes even though these companies know that the food is bad for those who eat it. At least in the quantities that they want them to eat, for advertising is directed towards the unconscious and not the conscious mind; it is a form of indoctrination. Would this be considered evil if in fact it has no concern for those who eat their product, but are only interested in their money? Again, we can become so used to the evils around us that they become normal. I am certainly not free of the blinders that keep me from truly seeing how self destructive much of what we consider culture today is and I am also blind to how I often keep that system going.
Beauty products are perhaps no better. Magazines of all kinds, based on fantasy, will often show on their covers both men and women who are impossibly beautiful, with brushed up photos, and bodies oiled, or fitted with clothes that never seem to fit that way in real life. People suffer greatly from this kind of thing. For many actually believe that these images are based on reality and the harm it causes seems to be spreading for both men and women. Perhaps one percent of the population who are very beautiful and handsome, are made the norm for those who actually read these magazines and believe them. Those who publish this kind of thing know what they are doing, yet, the bottom line again is profit, and human life is secondary.
So is the world evil? I think yes, on the level in which we use, abuse and manipulate one another, it is. That also goes for politics I believe. While it is true that we are all responsible in how we react to cultural manipulation, I am not sure how far that responsibility goes. Our cultures are like our skin, we can just go along, not thinking, just living and perhaps in the process dying in more ways than one. From all indications, I don’t see things getting better, or our society becoming more humane and caring. I also think this is normal for just about all cultures. I only say that because there may be a place where the needs and rights of the individual, as well as for those who have families are respected and considered sacred. I know there are enclaves where this is done and these groups are often mocked because they wish to separate themselves from the craziness that is considered normal by the many.
I am not being alarmist in this; it is the way of the world. Cultures move towards self destruction, all one has to do is read history to see that. It happens over and over again; like revolutions do in our times. The new guard becomes the old guard, because the one most important thing we can do, that is life giving for everyone, is to simply love others as we do ourselves. I say ‘simply’ but that is obviously not true. The human heart has limitations, and our love and concern are for the most part focused only our extended family no matter how large or small that is. This is understandable and not evil in itself, unless others suffer because of it.
I don’t have any way to change things, except perhaps to work on my own heart and in doing that to allow grace to use me and to also expand my ability to love others as myself, which is a work in progress, believe me. We are like children with lots of toys and we want more than everyone else, for what fun is it if everyone has the same things…right?
What are we here for? Are we just meat, waiting for death? Do we have a soul that is meant for something else? Do we in fact have a relationship with God, or does God have a relationship with us? Apart from the contempt often showered on believers, I think these questions are important and need to be pondered. How are we connected, if at all?
I am biased of course, I am a Christian and so I tend to lean towards my relationship with Christ Jesus as that avenue of grace that allows not only me, but hopefully all of mankind to eventually grow in the ability to truly learn “to treat others as one wants to be treated’. Which takes self knowledge to do that; for to know how one wants to be treated takes quite a bit of self awareness and comprehension.
I am not pointing fingers at anyone, except perhaps at me, for in the end, in writing, I believe the author is often fighting his own demons. I too am part of my time, one of the many who often go for days or weeks without thinking about how I am actually living out my faith. If my faith can’t help me to grow in freedom, to allow me to think for myself and to have values that are life affirming, then I fail, not only myself but my loved ones and also the culture and times I live in. No I don’t need to point; all I need do is look in the mirror to see what is reflected back.
Dancing soul
dancing soul
some souls jitterbug,
others waltz,
some do the two step,
others mental heads moshing,
in the end
each an expression of deep spiritual truth,
the depth
known only to God.
Edna
Edna
I have known Edna for quite a few years now,
a quiet lady,
classy in her own way,
I often see her at the Wall Mart here in Conyers,
she is a quiet woman for whom I have more than a little respect,
a hard worker,
earnest,
the salt of earth type of person.
Middle class,
been with Wall Mart for over twenty years,
58 years old,
so she is like me getting up in years.
I was at her place of employment this morning;
when there I don’t always expect to see her for it is a super store,
a place one can get lost in.
As I was walking by the households isle
I heard my name being called
and there she was,
smiling,
welcoming.
We talked,
soon I could tell that she was going through quite a bit,
she was feeling isolated,
even betrayed by those she worked for
and yes
her church.
So I just listened.
She is worried about her job,
now being 58 and having worked for Wall Mart for over 20 years,
her salary was more than most,
so she told me that they can’t fire her
but they make things so difficult for people like her,
loyal employees,
that they end up quitting,
she did not understand how they could treat loyal employees so badly.
She was worried about health issues,
her insurance is not as good as she would like,
but she is thankful that she has it,
but it pays very little,
so she is in debt with the hospital which she is paying a bit every month,
for she pays her bills.
Her church also bothers her,
she went into that a bit and again I listened,
really not knowing what to say,
as she talked I felt helpless and was even beginning to take on her hopelessness,
a very bad habit that I have,
for it helps no one with that happens.
So I tried to keep my boundaries up and stayed with her.
What to say?
I suppose I did make the appropriate noises
but they sound so phony,
for we each carry a burden alone,
or so it seems at times.
She finished and she came forward for a hug,
after the embraced I said I would pray for her,
yet it sounded hollow,
though I meant it,
for when in the midst of suffering and worry
that is all that seems real,
yet hopefully things will settle for her,
but like so many she struggles mightily to make it through the day,
making me sad that I could not do more.
So it goes.
In their image and likeness
In their image and likeness
He was a man, who tried to be kind,
Respecting others and their views,
Quiet as he went about his work,
Liked by most,
Found to be weak by others.
This caused them to discount all that he was,
Showing contempt towards one they did not know,
Understand,
Nor cared to even try,
Scapegoat-ing is so much easier,
Even if the reasons not understood,
Neither self questioning, nor introspection,
Occurred to them,
Justice never entered into it,
Just the cruel joy of causing pain,
Conscience free,
Freedom comes in many forms,
Each with its fruit at times, though slow in coming
For we all plant seeds in the souls of others.
The scapegoat did not understand,
Their cruelty was beyond him,
He tried to reason to no avail,
As time past he gave up,
Closed up within himself,
No protection found,
Things got worse,
Fear grew in his heart,
Dread took deep root
Digging deep in his wounded soul,
Causing new life to be born,
Something that he feared, but helpless in its grip,
Like a force of nature it grew,
Hot, red, wild, soon all consuming,
His inner world became darker still,
A work of art, a mockery of God’s grace
Made in his tormentors image and likeness.
Yet quiet knowing not how to express it,
Until,
One day,
It happened in a flash,
They came for their cruel sport,
Others followed wanting to see the flaying,
Enjoying the pain of another they did not know.
A word said, a laugh with contempt,
And their creation came to full bloom,
Transformed before their eyes
Like lava from a powerful volcano he came into new being,
A berserker he became,
Kicking, cutting, killing, without remorse, those who tormented him,
None remained untouched,
Some killed,
Others crippled for life,
Such was the power of rage when consuming another,
Hungry for the life force of its enemies.
Those who survived had their lives ruined,
Bitter fruit for taking one as weak,
Who in fact was merely kind,
For a time reborn into their repressed image and likeness.
Be careful the seeds planted in another.
Side kicks
I kind of know when I will be taking someone to the emergency room; it is when I have a visitor. Donna (a classmate of mine) and her husband and sidekick Stan, were going to stop by for a short visit as they were making their way to Florida. If their plans worked out, they would arrive at their motel at six in the evening and we would spend some time together. So I thought; let's see if something will happen to gum up the works.
It was two in the afternoon when Rose called me to say the Ken was having some pain in his right calf and she was worried that it might be a blood clot. Ken had just returned from a home visit and had a long flight home. So she called our family doctor, who set up an appointment at the outpatient clinic at Rockdale Hospital. Ken and I drove into the clinic and arrived around four, signed in and waited for a short time before he was called back for his procedure. I waited for a while, did some reading and called Stan and Donna to see how they were coming along. They were on schedule and would be staying in the local La Quinta inn, a new motel that was about a mile and a half from the hospital. So I said that I will most likely be finished here and be able to meet them. As I hung up, the nurse came out and told me that they had to take Ken to the emergency room; they found a small blood clot. I smiled to myself and said it is like clockwork.
In the emergency room because of his situation, they gave Ken priority and he was soon appointed a cubicle in the back. It was four in the afternoon and I knew that it would be a few hours before he was given a room in the hospital, so he needed someone to be with him. I called Rose and asked her if she could sit with Ken for a couple of hours so that I could visit with my friends and she being the generous soul she is, said yes. She arrived a little after six, and since Ken seemed at peace I left to visit my friends. When I called Donna she told me that they had just pulled in to the motel and gave me their room number. Since they had a dog, they were put on the first floor.
Just as I arrive, Donna called me and said that they would meet me in the hallway outside their room; they were still unpacking some items from their SUV. I did not have long to wait and it was funny seeing them walk down the hall towards me with a very tiny, white bundle of energy leading them. It was good seeing them both. Stan her husband is a great guy and I have grown to like him very much. He is just a few years older than me, but looks younger, which seem to becoming the case for me more and more as the years speed by. Well having a long grey beard does not helps matters; in any case I like my grey moving towards white bearded look. It is a fashion statement of sorts, though of what kind I have no idea.
They make a good couple and I enjoy how they interrelate. The motel was next to an Outback steak house, so we walked over there for dinner. Every time I am with Donna it seems like a continuation of a conversation from 1965; I know that sounds crazy but that is how it is. Perhaps that is what friendship is, and experience beyond space and time, which has no real effect on the connection, it just is. I have this with a few others from my past, so I guess it is a common experience when friendship is present.
I think they keep each other young for they really seem to really enjoy each others company. They are just different enough to keep it interesting and I like to watch how they interact with each other. When you feel relaxed, it is hard not to have a good time; self consciousness is at a minimum.
As we were leaving the restaurant Stan and I came out a little before Donna and he said something very interesting and is perhaps the one of the most important things needed to make any kind of relationship last. They were partners he said to me, they argued at times but worked things out. Sounds simple, but I think to live it out takes dedication, love and the glue that keeps it running, mutual respect. I think love without respect can become needy and in the end destructive, for then it reduces one partner to being just a caregiver and nothing else. Care giving in relationship has it place and both parties from time to time must play that role, but when that is all it is, well it can reduce one partner to the level of being a servant or even a slave. I am not talking about illness, which is different and I guess in most loving relationships one of the partners will have to take on that role for a length of time. In any case, when a marriage is successful, or any relationship, it takes hard work and humility to allow it to deepen and grow. I doubt that anything worth while comes easy in this life. It takes time for roots to grow deep and for the tree to grow tall and strong with age.
After I left my friends I started back towards the hospital expecting to be there very late. Sometimes it can take hours to be put into a room; that is how busy the hospital can get here. So I called the cubicle that Ken was assigned and got Rose. She told me that they were just taking him up to his room and she would meet me there. I arrived a few minutes later and Ken was already in his room and Rose was going over the procedures with the Nurse. She left soon after and I stayed for awhile with Ken to make sure everything was ok with him before I left. He was in need of a certain medication and was in some pain because he was late in getting it. The Nurse told me that it would be delayed a bit because the Pharmacy had to send it up. As I was leaving I notified the Nurse that he was really in need of the medicine and to please if she could speed it up for Ken. I left her my cell phone number and started back home.
So things fell in place and the pieces came together in good order.
Ken had a small blood clot, so he was sent home after a two day stay in the hospital. We will give him his Coumadin shots here for the next few days and he will have to stay off of his feet. Blood samples will have to be sent into the doctor every day and hopefully it will dissolve soon. In most cases the taking of Coumadin is temporary, perhaps six months the usual time. He will be back to normal in no time.
Inner monologues
you will not find it anywhere else.
Paula A Bendry
From the book
“Days of Healing-Days of Joy
by Hazelden publishers
Inner monologues
There are mornings, like the one that I had today, wherein my negative tapes seem to click on as soon as I get out of bed. At first I did not notice what was going on, for inner voices can at times just be background noise, allowing these inner tapes to do their work. I was up for about 30 minutes when I noticed what was going on and at first I became anxious, for inner monologues are harder to quiet if allowed to go on too long. So I did what I often do when this happens, for if I don’t, then the whole day can become a very rough ride indeed. Even if those around me don’t know what is going on and I can hide my inner tumult, or whining, take you pick, though I think whining is the best word for it. I am not sure getting in touch with your inner child (or brat) is always a pleasant experience or a healthy one for that matter.
So I sat down, closed my eyes and tried to see which spiraling tape was on this morning. I have learned long ago, though perhaps many have a different experience than I do in this regard, that tapes don’t go away, they are a permanent part of my unconscious. For the tapes, are just the fruit manifesting what is hidden beneath my everyday conscious thought process. Another thing I have learned, the voices don’t have to have control, for they are just tapes after all, compulsive and I believe not personal thoughts at all. Yet they are mine and I am the only one who can find a way to deal with them. Inner peace is a job that each has to take responsibility for, no one else can do it for me, that is for sure. We can learn from others, but in the end, there has to be some kind of inner strength that has to be called up, to be able to deal with what some call ‘their inner demons’.
Having a relationship with God (or ones higher power), is one way to get some distance from the influence of our inner voices. For to pray about it honestly and openly, allows distance to be made and identification to lessen. Once the voices can be observed, named and not feared, then the road to having a more peaceful and happy inner life is possible. Though like everything else worthwhile, it is a life time project. Growth is slow; at least it is for me; so patience is also something else that is developed when dealing with just another ‘bad day’. We learn patience by simply being patient with whatever is before us, that causes some kind of negative reaction. Patience is acquired by not reacting, but by interacting with reality. To observe the inner monologue is a form of listening and the paradox is that often the monologue can become a dialogue.
Some people think it is crazy to talk to ourselves this way, but in reality we do it all the time and when it is unconscious, well that is when things can become crazy. Emotions also come with this situation, often emotions that have well paved avenues in our brains, that also come equipped with different movies, or scenarios, that play themselves out. There just might be different people in the scenes, but essentially they are the same fantasies that lead nowhere.
Inner noise is not intelligent, so when speaking about inner dialogue, what I mean, or what works for me, is to relate through actually seeing and having compassion for what is observed. Self pity (which should be kept within strict boundaries), is not compassion, but only empowers the strength and vitality of these entities, for they are in fact, aspects of ourselves; just those that need development through simply seeing and not discounting or forcibly repressing. The more they are ignored the stronger their grip and power over our moods, and yes at times our lives.
I think there is one exception for actually having a conversation with ones inner army and that is through writing. For it is tactile, so it can ground the writer to the present, allowing the give and take to go at a pace that is manageable and yes helpful. Just sitting down and trying to do this without writing, at least for me, does not seem to work. Perhaps that is what creativity is all about, getting in touch with inner tension and giving it expression and yes a life that can be seen and yes, read by others. Poetry is also important as well as painting and all other art forms. Art is a mirror of man’s inner life, the good, the bad and the ugly. Art can be a source of encouragement, as well as a way to see within ones soul and thereby leading to understanding of others.
It is in the letting go of trying to either control, or to ignore these voices, that peace can come. To actually listen to oneself without judgment is an act of self love, something that can be difficult for many; I know it is for me. For there are days when this inner army of screaming children actually win out and I can’t seem to get the energy, or desire, to break out of ever turning wheel of these inner movies. For if truth be told, there can be a kind of comfort and pleasure in allowing this to go on unchecked. For then no thinking is needed, all one needs to do is go along for the ride, sort of like seeing a movie. The only bad thing about that is that unlike movies, it does not stop in 90 minutes and then the lights come on. No, it can become a way of life, wherein inner peace can never be achieved, or if it is, it is not something that can last very long.
To love ones self, or the desire to love ones self, in the best sense of the word, starts by loving ones inner chaos, embracing it and not fighting with oneself and also, having some compassion for the pain, that is the source of these inner monologues in the first place. Self knowledge, without contempt for what is seen, is the first step towards a deeper relationship with God (or ones higher power) and also yes, with oneself.
Death to self means letting go of that which keeps us imprisoned. Love frees us, love of self and love of others. For me this is only possible because of the healing I have experienced with my ever deepening relationship with the Infinite. Also, I know that it is the Infinite that first knocked on the door of my heart is such a manner that I was able to respond. Each has a unique relationship with their Higher Power and no one has the right to interfere with that.
I will thank God in advance for giving it to me.
January 10th meditation
Days of healing-Days of Joy
Hazelden publishers
Counterbalance
Progress always involves risk;
you can’t steal second with your foot on first.”
Mary R.
From the book, Days of Healing-Days of Joy,
Hazelden press
It is so easy to cling to what is known, even if it is a situation that is painful and self destructive. In relationships, there is a very peculiar situation that can develop, that is in reality very common. This can happen in any kind of connection, if the other person is seen as desirable in whatever way. Many don’t want to face the fact that power is an important part of any bond. The scary aspect of this is that we give others a certain power over us when we feel vulnerable towards them. The fear from allowing someone to see this vulnerability can cause a great deal of suffering for the person going through this experience. One term used to describe this dynamic is “approach/withdrawa l syndrome”. I have yet to meet anyone who has not gone through this at least once in their lives; others seem to go through it all the time.
It is also good to remember, that when approached by another, for friendship for instances, that they could also be fearful of being ignored or set aside. Knowing ones own wounds and fears can lead to empathy and compassion for others and not only offset a lot of pain for them, but also ones grow in the ability not to be knocked off balance by childish reactions, because they are understood for what they are. Most relationships are probably one-sided, but friendships can develop none the less. When this kind of acceptance is experienced, and the frustration and pain worked through, it leads to the ability to be able to see, hear and also love those who make tentative steps towards friendship. It is in relationship, the struggles, and the loneliness, that we grow and expand in our hearts the ability to love others for themselves, so the healing is passed on.
The desire to be seen can be counterbalanced by the fear of anyone seeing too deeply into our souls. Sometimes, I think that all the drama that goes on in many different kinds of relationships, are in fact protective measures to keep others at bay. We do in fact treat others the way we treat ourselves. To stop moving forward, taking risk, to give full power over our protective fear, is in fact locking our-selves up in a dungeon. The paradox is that known pain that is clung to, is often worse than the actual scenario played out in the imagination. One of the most painful lessons to learn, though it can lead to deeper intimacy, is that loved ones, those most needed, are not mere extension of personal need. In order for any relationship to mature and develop, the egotistical need to own or control another as something owned, has to be outgrown. This is not as easy as it sounds. Friendships, marriage, the parental bond, all bring to the surface aspects of human need that are not always consoling to see. So yes, inner demons have to be addressed and dealt with, for if they are not, well, then they will deal with us. I believe that most cycles of pain and confusion that flow from relationship come about because a certain level of hunger and pain doesn’t want to be let go of. Which is in fact an unconscious way of keeping others at bay, for protective functions can also become our wardens and jailers.
Inner experiences, feelings, emotions and needs can be so powerful that there are those that think it should be obvious to those around them. Yet it is not so. We must build a bridge towards others. One way of doing that, one of the scariest, is to be open and honest with the person that we would like to have has a friend or spouse, or perhaps just someone who can impart wisdom to us. No matter the relationship, each step into the realm of intimacy is moving into a new world that can be very scary and painful, yet also filled with joy and a feeling of inner expansion and healing. For to communicate with another on the level of trust (even if fear is present), is to expand ones healthy boundaries, and to also learn that human problems and struggles and yes failures are universal. So the temptation to suffer from chronic uniqueness is outgrown for something better……whi ch is community. A certain level of faith has to be embraced to accomplish this. This also takes a waking up to the truth of inner tension in this regard and also the strength to stand against it. Faith can be open ended, fear a closed gate.