The crying child
03.30.06 (11:44 am) [edit]The child did not know.
Could not understand,
That life could be better,
That anger was not the answer,
Abuse not the way to get things done.
How could the child understand?
No remembrance of better times,
Of love given without abuse following,
Or simple peace,
That many take for granted;
A night without yelling or hitting.
Stunted through no fault of his own
Pushed down
Overwhelmed by those who should have loved,
But it somehow got lost in the screaming.
The child grows up
And the cycle continues,
No understanding that things could be different.
So it goes
Generation after generation
The children pay for the sins of their parents.
The inward retreat
03.28.06 (10:08 am) [edit] The inward retreat Creating a safe place to dwell; Becomes too small Cramped To contain the soul….. The walls close, The inner scream So deafening Heard by no one Outside What was once safe and warm, Now becomes cold, and dark. The outer shell Becomes a prison With no way out. The boundaries, Hardened, Built over the years Becomes a state of being Enclosed, and self absorbed. In the deepest center No matter how dark the state Dwells light The loving glance Of the presence Waiting, Infinite patience; Content To be with the one loved From eternity. |
Easier to give than to receive
03.27.06 (9:29 am) [edit]
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 Mercy is desired by all. To be understood. Circumstances known; Of the why of things, So that understanding may flow. The giving of mercy is less desired. The giving hard, The struggle too great; Better to condemn, And bury understanding. Revenge is sweet so they say, Easy to exact, Quickly done, But the pay back Comes in pain-filled installments…. A bounding unending, Spreading outward, Dragging in family, Loved ones, Into the dance of recrimination A hell of sorts, a cycle of violence, Growing, maturing, Bearing fruit That only destroys. Mercy allows the other to be, Their power to change ones life’s course is naught, The connection broken, Perhaps and ending, Or a new beginning…. To give mercy or to withhold it; To embrace life, Or to destroy the offender By inches, The bloody wounds hidden from view….. To give or not to give? Perhaps this is the question, The only important one That needs to be pondered, And understood |
Mercy
03.26.06 (3:34 pm) [edit]
Mercy
When ever the discussion on mercy comes up, one of the things argued over, is, if some people are beyond any kind of mercy, beyond the pail, a lost cause, and who should simply be let go of, or even killed if they are criminals. This is understandable since justice and mercy are often put in opposition to each other, as if they are mutually exclusive and cannot meet.
Mercy, by its very nature is a gift, something given freely; it cannot be earned. Mercy is shown to loved ones all the time, but the only time it really matters, for the party receiving mercy, is if some understanding of the wrong committed be present. Some level of communication has to be present for both parties to benefit. For the one giving mercy, it frees them from becoming a victim of evil, of becoming filled with the desire for revenge, or perhaps even justice, which may or may not come. To desire revenge, to put up barriers based on anger; is in reality a just another intimate relationship, giving power, wanted or not, to the one who committed the wrong or injustice. The opposite of love is not hate but indifference, so any kind of strong emotional tie, be it with a loved one, or an enemy, is a very intimate, and passionate experience. One is life giving, the other can lead to chaos, and even death.
Strange that most people know this, but it is still a struggle to come to that place where freedom can be had, but not sought after. The giving of mercy can go against the grain, and be difficult, but in the end a great deal of pain and frustration is eliminated, and in some cases the cycle of violence is avoided. Without mercy there is often no other way to circumvent the process that only adds to the already heavy load of pain in the world.
Mercy can be given more easily when there is some understanding of the overall situation, and the deeper that is present, the quicker mercy can be shown to those in need of it, whether accepted or not by the recipient. I suppose mercy is often equated with being soft or easy on the wrong doer. In criminal cases, mercy can be shown to the worst criminals, but they may still have to remain in prison, they being a threat to our society. Responsibility is not taken away, in fact that is a part of mercy, if it is to work for the one receiving it.
There is no revenge in God; the revelation is one of infinite love and compassion. The use of the word “wrath” in the bible is not the same as “human wrath”. Wrath for humans is a state of inner constriction, were the only thought is to get even, to make the other suffer, to punish, or even to destroy. Since God is mercy, no evil can affect his relationship with his children; it is we who change, who are unstable, and who run and refuse to take responsibility, which would allow mercy to flow. We do not need to be saved from God, but from our very selves, hence God’s mercy.
Christ on the cross forgave his enemies. He was falsely accused, betrayed, tortured, and when dying forgive them all. Perhaps that is God’s way of letting us know that no one is outside mercy, it is a gift after all.
Seekers
03.25.06 (3:59 pm) [edit]
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 People want something A knowing in the pit of their stomach Allowing no rest No consolation in anything Only the restless search To seek That which often has no name or form…. They seek everywhere Here, There, Not finding that which eludes them Until one day they simply stop Relax And find it was there all along. |
Waiting
03.24.06 (4:15 pm) [edit]
The Atlanta Airport is a place I both love and hate, a sentiment that is probably common for those who live in the area, or for anyone who has to go thru. Picking someone up can be a long drawn out affair, especially with the small airlines, which often don’t do a good job in letting those waiting, the ‘real’ time the flight is due. For instance last night I went in to pick up someone as a favor for a friend, easy to do since I knew the person I was waiting for, and liked him. The flight was due at 7:20, the monitor stated it was coming in ten minutes late, but then it came in at 8:45. The flight had to circle the city for awhile. A lot of delayed flights seemed to have arrived at the same time hence the back up.
Waiting at baggage claim, or in the central lobby, where the escalators bring the passengers from the five concourses, can be an interesting experience. Just about every language in the world can be heard spoken there, either with their fellow country men, or yes on the cell phone. I think just about everyone I saw last night, including myself of course, had a cell phone, and many were wearing the ear modules, and acting like mad men and women, just talking away into the air, laughing, arguing etc. I suppose if someone were really talking to themselves, it would be assumed that they had some very new hidden type of cell phone, somewhere on their person.
While there I saw a group of people wandering around, from the North side to the South, and back again. They were foreigners, so I finally went up as asked if they needed help. One of them spoke English, a very large man with a white beard; who said that they were simply looking for one of their party that was lost. So I left them, later they seemed to have found the lost sheep and left.
I stationed myself behind one of the partitions that faced the unending crowds being spit out by the escalator and waited. It is amazing, after about 20 minutes of watching this phenomenon, the feeling comes of watching water rushing towards you, and breaking both right, and left, and continuing on its journey. At one point in this trance state I noticed a pair of eyes looking right at me in the distance, an old lady coming towards me and not taking her eyes off of me. She seemed to be in her late 70’s or early 80’s, and I supposed she was in trouble and needed help, so I gave her a smile, and encouraged her to come closer. She walked up to me and showed me a picture of a man, the very man I asked earlier if he needed help with anything. It seemed that the group was Russian. and I guess he was some sort of travel guide. She spoke no English, but she did under stand about cell phones, and showed me another paper with two numbers. I tried the 404 area code, and got a man on the other end, and told him my dilemma with the women. He directed me to go back to the center lobby and go next to the rest room there, and someone would be waiting for the Lady. She was a trusting soul, and proceeded to follow me, we finally found the man, or he found us; came up and spoke Russian, so I left, and went back to my vigil. Funny that she would approach me, while not mean looking, my very long beard can put people off at times, perhaps she thought I was Russian.
Then I saw a large line of young people filing by, and came to the conclusion that they must be newly enlisted. Most seemed like they should still be in High School, perhaps an indicator of my quickly becoming a member of the senior generation; in a few years my parents generation will for the most part be gone, that just leaves the baby boomers to step to the front of the line, and take a ticket. More and more people look like they are very young, when in fact they are not. I felt for them, knowing what they had to go thru in order to be able to operate well in the Military. I was in the Navy from 67-71, and boot camp was no picnic, can’t be, they have to break you in, and have a limited time to do it. I also felt some real sadness for them, knowing that some of them could very well be dead or crippled within a year, if they were sent over to Iraq, or perhaps by then even Iran. So much innocence waiting to be taken away and used by the government to protect what is perceived to be for the benefit of the country; perhaps it is, I am a moron when it comes to politics, but I can’t say I liked what I saw.
It is frustrating; war seems to be something we can’t shake, even though the price to be paid is very high, and in most cases does not work. I think we are trapped and not free in this regard at all. Hopefully we will learn, and this killing will stop, but I will not hold my breath.
You never know what is going to happen at the airport.
Adapting
03.23.06 (9:19 am) [edit]  I went up to the lounge last night to see how Francis was doing, in adapting to the new Liquid Oxygen system that we got for him. Using the regular larger oxygen tanks is cumbersome, since they have to be replaced every four hours or so, and have to ordered almost everyday in order to keep Francis supplied. He has been spending more time up and about, when he cannot use the concentrator; though I have noticed him getting weaker over the last couple of weeks, but he does like to push himself a bit. As usual we just wait to see what must be done, or simply when to move in and help. The agency representative came up yesterday and taught us how to refill the tanks, which also have to be filled often, also every four hours when being used, but they can be done on site. Also the contents will evaporate when not being used; it takes about ten hours per tank to empty in that way. We did make one change for him, when he is in the lounge, and not going out, we will bring up his concentrator, and put his new tank on when he is going out. Or at least that was the plan. When I arrived I was surprised to see him not doing very well. The LPN on duty explained to me that he did not react well to the new system. Francis told her that he did not feel he was breathing right when using the liquid oxygen; also that it made him nauseous, so she took him off, and put him on his concentrator. I am not sure if his nausea is connected to the liquid oxygen, but the RN will deal with in the morning. Frances has slowly been getting weaker, getting very tired when in his chair, and tonight he looked exhausted, and gasping for air. When asked if he wanted to go to his room, he said no. I think he was nervous about being alone, even if we would check up on him often. We have an electric recliner in the lounge so I put him in that, and put up his legs, and reclined his head a bit, this seemed to help. After that I sat with him for a short while and we just talked. Since I did not know which way this would go, I decided to explain to him what I needed to know; if he wanted to go to the ER, if things proceeded to get worse. At first he told me that yes he wanted to go to the ER, always choose life he told me. I said fine, and notified the LPN about his decision, and ask Francis to repeat it in her presence. About twenty minutes later, when I was leaving, and making one last check up on him, he notified me that he changed his mind, that he did not want to go to the ER; if things got worse for him, he was not afraid, and was ready to go if it came to that. The LPN was there, and heard it all, so we knew what we would do if his started to die. Of course if severe pain came into the picture, which did not seem likely, we would call for help. When I checked up on him about 1:30 this morning he was in bed and seemed a little better until he tried to talk to me. He would gasp when speaking, though he did not seem to be in discomfort. The concentrator seems to work very well for him, and we only have in on 3 liters at this time. I explained to him that we may have to keep him in the unit if he was still having difficulty in the morning, he agreed. We will most likely take him off his wheel chair, and put him in a geriatric chair, that way we can get him up, and he can recline a little, which should help. It is not good for him to stay in bed all the time, since he also has congestive heart failure, which we keep in check with meds. I don’t know where this is going, he may rally for awhile, but rallies almost never bring someone his age up to the level they were before the set back. The plateaus that he reaches seemed to be short lived; of course he was in his nineties before he needed any real help. He only needed minimal assistance until about a year ago, when we moved him into his room, for those who needed full time care. While I am sure this is difficult for him, he as usual, is gracious about it, doing what we ask, and in his own way embracing life as he always did, accepting what is, in faith. He is probably one of the gentlest men I have ever taken care of. Even when he gets frustrated with me, he always uses humor to let me know that perhaps I am being a little too pushy. Sometimes I guess I can be, and a couple of times I have backed down, since it was about something that would not have harmed him either way. He is gentle and intelligent, a very good combination to have in late old age; makes things easier both for him, and his caregivers. |
Over-looked
03.22.06 (9:28 am) [edit]
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 Alone in a crowd The longing to be seen But passed by Over looked As if Not there Of no worth Nothing to share To say Or show.
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The Gift
03.21.06 (9:02 am) [edit] Some of the best times for just thinking, or perhaps just sitting without really thinking about anything, are in the evening just before sunset. The sun is now no longer overhead with it overbearing brightness, if in summer the heat is not as extreme, perhaps for some easier to breathe; so this comfort allows one the ability to just relax, and enjoy the moment. Perhaps allowing the thoughts to flow without censorship, lazily watching them, like someone watching boats pass by on a lake, no fuss, just being, enjoying what is. Not trying to fix anything, think hard about anything, just resting. Moments like these are blessed and perhaps are what for many; keeps them sane, since life does not always afford such experiences. It is a gift, a grace, something not planned for, or perhaps even expected when it happens. More often than not, non-self-consciousness is present, which allows this experience to unfold, sort of simply being out of ones way. Walking and looking at ones feet can be tiring and complicated, to be able not to look and just be, just do, is truly a freeing and refreshing experience, like that of a child playing in the evenings coolness. For many a very happy memory, perhaps often revisited when the days become unbearably harried, overloaded, scattered. When this gift comes to an end, it is like coming back to oneself. Not in the since of waking up, but more often than not re-entering a smaller world of worry about tomorrow;becoming once more a responsible adult with the weight of the world on ones shoulders. The heaviness returns, inner retraction, a getting ready to once more enter the world of boxes, though hopefully refreshed, stronger for the gift of being in the Presence. |
The Presence
03.20.06 (11:30 am) [edit] Life for some, perhaps for many, seems to have a dream like quality to it. The hours, days, weeks, months, and years, seem to go by in a blur, and the remembrance of them can at one times evoke peace, and at an others a form of sadness or even panic, and perhaps despair. It can be a comfort to know that all of our experiences, especially the painful ones cannot last, that they to will soon become a past memory, racing towards a distant past; a seemingly eternal growing past. At other times, the wish for time to simply stop and not move forward at all is present. The time with loved ones, with friends, a moment of peace, of a feeling of union with God, or with simply life, evaporates, and is gone and time races on; no matter how strongly we wish to cling, it slips thru our fingers. The inner awarness can seem to always be the same, someone young, vibrant, but the outer person rapidly grows old, slowly backed into a corner, as the aging process does its work, and our options one by one are taken away. Clinging can become the problem, the fighting of that reality. The knowledge that things are temporal, mortal; moving towards a time when they will be no more, is something that many try to forget, bury away in some basement hoping that it stays there. It is in the trying, the seeking to forget, that causes so much pain, for so many, and the search for ways to offset this reality can be all consuming, if not always conscious. Some cultures do better than others in handling this, where the aging process and death are looked upon as simply a part of life, to be embraced and not rejected, painful as it may be. When this happens the compulsion to always look young, with a young strong body does not become a national pass time, or perhaps a compulsion. Meaning is giving for every stage of life and one stage is not better than the other, though some of course are more pleasant. The older years are made for drawing closer to the Other, the Eternal One. The only point of stability in a universe that is unstable, where changes, and time, seem to speed up as the years race pass by in like cars in a NASCAR race. This does not have to be depressing. It can be liberating to face death and accept it, to even embrace it. Not in the since of giving up, but to love life and all the ways that it is manifested, and to strive to make the best of the time we have. Faith does not have all the answers, but it does give direction and meaning to life, a center where things can be worked out from, a point of reference that can give meaning to even the most absurd, and chaotic of situations. Faith does not make life easier, but it does give meaning, it answers the need of our deepest heart to find the Presence, the Lover that calls us onward, but also eludes us, drawing us deeper into the mystery that can never be owned or captured. Faith can be mocked, and believers looked upon with contempt by some, but that is the mockers problem, it need not affect the one on the path. The moving towards the meeting, that will bring for the seeker the face to face encounter of the Beloved at last, the Presence that never left but was simply and faithfully there as the journey progressed. |
Spring Wind's
03.19.06 (11:11 am) [edit] Early spring With its warrior winds Cause the trees to shake, The leaves to dance and swirl In the simple joy of coming life…. The slumber ends for the trees Who slowly awaken, The young buds reaching for the sun Like a soul seeking the light Reaching ever higher with each new season…. The war of seasons Slows down With spring the winner Over Winter’s dark cold Until the Fall returns. |
The love of books
03.18.06 (9:52 am) [edit]
I suppose many people have a deep love for books. Go into any large book store, at any time, and you will usually find more than a few customers wandering about, sitting, reading, and of course having coffee. In the old days book store owners did not like people reading the books while in the store, but they have learned that if someone is sitting down reading a book; the chances are that when they leave, there will two or three other books being bought.
Novels are always popular and for good reason. In a good novel you will find all you need to know, on either how, or how not to live ones life. The characters are often clearly defined; the villain, the hero, even the anti-hero is a clean character, easy to spot, and separate from the others. Many people don’t like fiction, saying it is not real! I suppose it depends on what one means by real. If it deals with life, its problems, its ups and downs; then it is real, even if the story is told as a work of fiction. People read novels to identify with one or more of the characters, otherwise there would be no point in reading.
Adults seem to love reading children’s books even more than the little ones do. The Narnia series comes to mind, as well as Harry Potter. Many adults are great readers of these epic adventures and usually read them more than once. Children’s books can be read on many different levels, and they tend to deal with very serious issues, the way that fairy tales do. I guess that is why they are written; read the Brothers Grimm to see what I mean. Many of their stories are not bed time reading for children, unless you want them to have nightmares.
Novels with an obvious philosophical bent might not be as popular, but they are also good reads. The reader it drawn in a world were a particular philosophy is something real, vital, and important for those who happen to be brought into existence by the author. Ayn Rand is a very good example. Read her works and learn how a hyper rationalist looks at the world, and makes it seem real, and even workable. Ideas are more easily conveyed by this genre, hence it is often used. People who read a lot of fiction probably know a lot more than they realize when it comes to philosophical or religious questions. People who read broadly tend to be open minded about others ways of thinking ,even if they do not agree, such is the fruit of reading, you can’t help but learn.
Horror novels can also be very good. They bring out the struggle between good, and evil, in all of its horrendous detail. Some writers are of course better than others, but even that is subjective I guess. King, Campbell, Straub, and Koonz, are very good horror writers, and can enrich the lives of those who like this kind of thing. The problem of good and evil, also the place of how community enters into the struggle with evil, is often brought out in these novels, so they are a good read with lessons following as well.
Marcus Borg is a very good writer for Christians who lean a bit to the left but not too far from center, and can be helpful for many Christians, who have an intuitive understanding of what they believe, but don’t have the words to explain exactly what it is. Writers like him, help people to name what they already know, which can be very freeing.
No doubt about it, books are wonderful, a true gift, and hopefully something not too much taken for granted. A world without books would be like a world without color, or birds and song. Books add a depth to our lives, by allowing the readers to learn from the experiences and insights of others, or like above, to have someone explain themselves to themselves.
Some think that learning is really a way of remembering, bringing to light what is already there. Many, when taking philosophy, experience their learning new things this way. I think reading Socrates and Plato can lend to that experience, with Aristotle, unless reading his Nicomean Ethic, is a bit harder.
A bad day
03.17.06 (7:01 pm) [edit] |
You never know what the day will bring. A friend from out of town came to me this AM with a question about his medicines. He is on a very large dose of pain killers, due to an injury that he sustained in a car accident. He has to take a strong dose every 4 hours or six pills a day. He goes to a pain client and he is careful to work with them very closely. Last week he hurt his back, and had to take another half a tablet for a few days, which made him run out of pills five days early. He wanted to know if the pharmacy would give him an early prescription for his meds. I explained that they most likely could not do it, since he was on a narcotic, so he had better call the pain clinic to see if they could help him. He could not get to the doctor, and since he only had two pills left, I drove him to a walk in client here in town. The doctor was very helpful, but told him that pain clinic’s were very strict about their patients taking more than their prescribed amount of meds, and if abused will drop him. My poor friend was devastated by this statement, but I told him that the situation will decide what they will do when he talks with them. I feel that they will understand. The doctor said that while he understood and will help him, he told my friend that he had better let them know soon about this development, since they will no doubt be checking up on him like they do with all their patients. The doctor then went off to try to get hold of the clinic himself. My friend was very anxious about not getting his meds; he told me how awful the pain was, and how a friend of his killed himself because of being overwhelmed by chronic pain. He was fearful that they would cut him off. I tried to comfort him by stating that I am sure that his doctor knows about exceptions, and since he did not try to cheat, but was open with the doctor they will understand his situation and have no problem with it. I felt really bad for him since I know what chronic back pain can do, it is unbelievable in how much pain it can produce, sapping all joy out of life. We got the prescription even though the doctor could not reach the pain clinic. So off we went to the Pharmacy, got the meds, but before we left, the pharmacist asks to talk to him. He told him that the amount of narcotic he is taking also has Tylenol in it, and if he is going over the prescribed dose he is endangering his liver, which freaked my friend out. He was already pushing it with his dosage, and using more than it calls for is dangerous for him. He recommended that he ask his doctor to put him on a larger dose of pain killers, so he would not have to take six a day. There are medicines he could take only twice a day that would do the same thing, and lessen the Tylenol he is taking. This advise calmed my friend down a bit since he knew that there was something he could do about it. He really had a bad day, but he got the meds he needed and hopefully he will be able to get a new prescription, two tabs a day would certainly simplify things for him. He does not abuse the meds but really needs them just to survive. I know meds are a two edge sword, but in his case it is worth the risk of being cut, since without it his life would be a living hell on earth. There is nothing worse or more useless than having pain that is a constant and will not go away. I will do anything to help someone in that situation. I am thankful that doctors are becoming more compassionate about this issue, though abuses are probably common, hence the clinic’s being so strict about abuse. |
Alone in the dark
03.16.06 (6:39 pm) [edit] The man’s heart was now broken, Too late for him to learn, Or to erase the past With his selfish deeds, Taking his beloved for granted. He never thought she would leave him, Alone in the cool dark void, In pain he never thought he could feel. Too late he understands what he had Used and lost. He can’t go back Her wounds are too great. He now knows that love is a gift, While trust has to be earned, For him now impossible…. Too many promises broken, Other women, Money wasted on drink, And leaving her without, Alone in the dark…. Now he knows, Too late he laments, That his heart could be so cold To the women he loved, Who now leaves him alone in the dark. The coldness complete, The dark closing in, No warmth to sooth his soul, Bereft of all comfort That only love can provide. |
Self-conscious
03.16.06 (1:00 pm) [edit] I was what you would call a late bloomer. When I was young, in my teen years, I was what you would call a “geek” I guess. I was a very slow grower, small, skinny, not very strong, not weak either but not as strong as most boys my age. When I entered my junior year of high school I was just a tad over 5 feet tall, so I was one of the smaller boys in my class. I did not hate it, but I certainly did not appreciate being so little, so far behind most of the boys in my class in this regard. I was too small to really get into sports; way too small for football, also did not have enough self confidence to play baseball. Though now that I am older, I know I could have done better if I applied myself. Probably one of the main factors in my early years that caused me some of my issues, not focused enough. One problem is that I hated group activities, a weakness of mine that I have never really out grown. I suppose dancing was a substitute for me, since you can dance no matter your size. I always had a good sense of rhythm, even as a very small child, mom told me that when the radio was on, I was always able to keep up with the beat. How I did that I have no idea; probably shook my booty until my diapers fell off. I was a very good dancer, and still am I guess; though don’t do as much as I did when young. I suppose I always felt freest when dancing, flying actually, my blood would boil when I got in the “zone” and got my stride going. It is so effortless to just let the music carry me, up and away! I would become weightless swimming in the ocean of the melody that surrounded me, surfing on the sounds with no undertow to worry about. I think one reason I loved dancing so much, is the fact that I could do on the dance floor what my bigger classmates could do on the athletic field; they could just ‘do it’. Allow the body to move on its own, self consciousness was put away, and the love of movement could take over. At least this is what I think happens. A few times in the Navy when I played football I would get into this kind of state, and I would flow with the energy generated by the sport, and I would do quite well, but then it would be gone and I would not be able to play that way for long, my self consciousness would take over. Ya can’t dance and look at your feet at the same time. The same goes for tennis and ping pong, I seriously suck at these pass times. I am always thinking on how I am going to hit the ball, while thinking, the ball has passed me by……..such a geek. The few times that I actually hit the ball right, was usually a fluke, luck, only that. I suppose one of the reasons I love reading so much is for the same reason. If I am reading fiction I can lose myself in the story, time seems to disappear when I enter into the world that the author created for awhile. If I am reading some theology or philosophical literature I enter into the world of ideas, and this expansion also helps me to overcome my truncated understanding of who I am, allows me to be free for a short time in my exploration of reality, and striving to deepen my understanding of it. Again a weakness of mine is that if I am told to read something it makes me self conscious, and I have a very hard time doing it. Perhaps I am afraid of being ‘graded’ or compared with others, or perhaps just stubborn, or a bit of all three. In any case it is something I have not been able to out grow. I don’t think it is being independent; the exact opposite really. The same goes for writing, if someone asks me to write about something, again it is difficult for the same reason. I don’t consider myself a ‘real’ writer. I am only doing this for a time, to be able to express myself in this kind of medium, and when I no longer need it, I will stop. For instance the reason I send my ‘stuff’ out, is because I know on some level, it is important for me to do so, sort of like giving birth, of expressing things about me that need to be sent, it gets me outside of myself. To write something and then to keep it would somehow truncate the process, why I don’t really know, but it is an intuition that I am willing to go with. Not that I think what I write is important, it is just a stage I need to get thru. I have friends who are writers, one who has four books to his credit, and for him writing is like breathing, for me it is not like that. It is spontaneous, a simple expression of me, surprising myself at times with what comes out of, and one day this will be done. I suppose I am a little too introspective for my own good, and I can sometimes get in my own way. I put this in just in case anyone wanted to let me know about that. |
The wheel ever turning
03.14.06 (2:05 pm) [edit]
Even though I know that the experiences we have in life are cyclic in nature, that we effortlessly flow from one inner state to another, not even knowing when it happens; how, or why, I am still caught of guard when the change comes. The outer edge of the wheel surely turns, slowly for some, more rapidly for others, but turn it does and I guess it will stop only when the wheel stops in death.
I sometimes tell myself if only I could always feel emotionally centered, be reflective without effort, letting nothing from the ‘outside’ brother me, then life would be wonderful and I would have arrived. I suppose this sounds good on paper but in real life I suppose it would be quite miserable and yes boring. I have been to places where it is a perpetual spring, with sunny balmy days, and cool nights; the only problem being after awhile it becomes just background noise, something just there that I take for granted, becoming invisible.
Struggle seems to be important for us; we need the hot to understand the cool, warm, and cold. We need pleasure to understand the different levels of pain. The experience of love, in order to feel the other emotions, both positive, and negative, that also flow from this state These varied experiences cause us both joy and suffering. They also force us at times to make decisions about how we are to react, to pause and rethink on how we handle things, to make conscious choices on how to proceed, in other words we grow from our ability to learn and make choices.
When I am in a scattered state I have to ‘fight’ to remain centered, focused. I have to choose this, even if at the time it is not very comforting. It is easy to be loving towards others when I feel filled with love, but when the wheel turns and emotions are depleted or even cold then it is another matter to ‘choose’ to love and to act accordingly. If I fail, well again I have to choose on how to deal with it. The harder way is to be self forgiving, get up and continue on my way.
My heart can feel hard, dry and empty, but it is then that I am called upon to open up this heart of stone to God’s love and grace that never changes. The only instability present is within me, with my unstable inner states; now this now that, in an unceasing parade of images.
It is the center of the wheel that never moves, is quiet, and simply observes what is going on; it is there I am called to dwell, so as not to get over identified with these passing states. While real, they are also illusions, since while in the midst of them I can be fooled into thinking that they are real and that they will last forever, or if not that, then they are based on reality, and it is ok to judge the ‘real world’ by these passing states. It is like falling into a very large spider web, hard to get out of once entered into.
God is real, God’s grace is true, and the healing that comes from a relationship with infinite love is the only real stable place that can be worked from. The ever shifting inner weather pattern, our inner life, which is our human lot, is not a stable or secure place to build any kind of foundation on. All things pass, our youth, our loved ones, our jobs, our lives, what we think and feel, but God is eternal, and it is in God that we experience all things, which is really simply put Love.
So I continue to inch forward, four steps forward and three back, sometimes slower than that, but I respond to Whom calls me.
Walk under the moon
03.13.06 (9:57 am) [edit]
I woke up about 2 AM this morning, rolled over and looked out my window and saw that the moon was very bright; a tempting site for me since I love the moon and the night. So I tried half heartedly to go back to sleep, gave it 15 minutes, and got up, anticipating a nice long morning walk.
Went downstairs to the breakfast room and found that someone else beat me there and made a nice pot of coffee for me. So I got my coffee, went over to the sugar bowl, got a spoonful and then put in some coffee mate. Now since I am a mature adult I did not put in the coffee mate and then pretend it was Atlantis slowly sinking into the ocean, sinking into the black liquid never to be seen again. No not for me, to mature, so after I stirred around the remains of Atlantis, I mean the coffee mate, I sat down to enjoy the brew. Love the first taste, the best; goes a little down hill after that. For some reason in the last year, I have not been drinking my coffee black like I have done most of my life. Now that I am not doing it I am sorry that it took me so long to learn about the joys of sugar and coffeemate with my jolt in the morning.
So after I had my fill of caffeine, sugar and artificial creamer, I decided to go out for a nice walk. The first thing that greeted me was the nice feel of a 59 degree morning, a good temperature for me since I start to get warm when it hits the 70’s. I took in a deep appreciative breathe and started on my way. The moon was very bright, not quite bright enough to read in, but very beautiful all the same. The moon seemed to be a ¾ moon so hopefully in the next couple of nights it will get even brighter.
We have coyotes now on our property. I first stated noticing them I think in the mid or late 80’s with their mournful calling out to the night. Now there seems to be a lot of them, at least it seemed so by the amount of noise they were generating. Now by noise I don’t mean I don’t like it, in fact I do; an acquired taste for sure, but well worth the effort. As I continued my walk I noticed that there were no deer this morning, which is unusual since there are a great many of them near here. I thought perhaps the coyotes are closer than I thought, and perhaps chased them away further into the woods, though I am not sure, they may only be a danger to fawn’s and not to the adults. Since I don’t think they would harm me I continued on my way. I love it at this time, no cars on the highway, just the sound of the gentle wind and some few insects starting to come out now that it is warmer. The geese would call out once in awhile and one plane flew overhead but that is all. The clouds were starting to move in, so I guess it might be overcast, another thing I love, love low flying dark clouds, they seem to soothe my soul just looking at them. I don’t hate the sun, in fact like it in moderate doses, but overcast days and rainy weather is something that I seem never to tire of.
The trees are of course starting to fill in with their new growth, but enough are still bare for me to enjoy the beauty of the bare branches against the night sky. I love lines, like to pick one branch out and flow it to its end, then jump onto another one etc. A silly pastime I know, but like I said bare branches are very beautiful to look at.
In the early mornings God seems thicker than the air; perhaps it is the deep silence apart from the usual night noises that only lend to the beauty of the silence. This morning I had some trouble keeping my mind quiet, some things I am working out, but wanted to put them to rest for a time, so I brought out my prayer rope and started to gently say the very short prayer for each bead, and soon my mind was focused on where I wanted it to be.
Morning with its promise of a fresh start, with its feeling of youth, energy and new life, so different from the evening, but not better, each has its place.
I am still inside
03.11.06 (4:49 pm) [edit]Edit Delete
People walk by me without looking,
thinking my mind is gone.
True my brain is shutting down,
can't talk right,
forgetful at times,
memory short
sometimes gone.
I am like a child
or even an infant
or so it is now.
No so long ago
I was just like you,
walking by those like me now
thinking that their is nothing there,
only remains of what was once human,
intelligent,
a being capable of thought.
I am still me
I am inside
my mind works my brain doesn't
I want to speak but can't,
I sometimes know what I want
but I can't get it out,
I babble,
it hurts when others think I am no more,
when I am inside
looking out.
My brain is a prison of my mind
my soul is alive
wanting to be free
Soon I will be released
free to fly away and be free
to be
to love
and communicate
with those around me
and with God.
Don't be like me
passing by
those trapped within.
Edmund
03.10.06 (10:03 am) [edit] I have been one of the caregivers Edmund for about 7 years now, and while it seems like a long time it does not feel that way. Edmund is a small man, quiet for the most part, a man with a ready smile, and laugh, who is for the most part even tempered, and easy to take care of……for the most part that is. He is one of those people who just don’t ‘fit’ into any ‘thing’. For instance it has always been impossible to get him to adapt to any kind of schedule. Since the onset of Alzheimer’s his concept of time has been seriously altered. Everybody else has pretty much a time that they go to bed and get up. Edmund is different; he will go to bed, lie down and then get up ten minutes later, and come down to the main lobby and sit and listen to music, no matter what time it is. Sometimes he will get up and down all night, sometimes going to the bathroom, at others again to the lobby. Then I guess when his sleep depth builds up, he will sleep thru the whole night without interruption; at least that is what he did until very recently. In the beginning before his Alzheimer’s became last stage, where he is at now, it was not too much of a problem, but later on he had to be watched. He liked to go into other people’s rooms; sometimes because he was lost, at others he just wanted to look around I guess, and once in awhile he would pick something up and take it to his room. We soon came to understand that if something was misplaced it was most likely in his living area. This was innocent of course; he would often forget that he had the object as soon as he stored it. We also had to be careful during meals with meds, he would want to take everybody’s medicines, so during meals the medicines could not be placed near the plate of those at table, but given to each one, and make sure they were all taken lest Edmund would swoop down on them. We watched him close enough were this never happened, could have been serious if it did. About two months ago we thought we were losing him. One morning he became very weak, and his blood pressure became dangerously low; also during that period he had apnea. He would breathe for about 10 seconds, and then stop for as long as a minute. Because of his age, and his living will, all we did was to make him comfortable and see how it went. He is DNR and sending someone his age, and condition, to the ER is torture. ER’s are good, but for the aged they can be very rough places to have to go to. The ‘beds’ are very uncomfortable, and often the wait is very long. I have had to wait as long as eight hours in ER’s, can’t be helped, there is so much going on. So we are careful about who we send in. For Edmund it would have been useless, and quite possibly would put him thru a great deal of suffering. I sat with him, kept him company and prayed. He did come out of it after an hour or so, but he was different. He was weaker, he could not get from his wheel chair to his bed, or to his toilet like he did before, he also seemed further along in his slide into dementia. However he still would get up and down a lot and this became a problem since he could easily fall and break his hip. He does not like to be confined in anyway, and since he is used to moving about freely he does not always understand why new constraints have been put on him. Luckily for the most part we can talk to him, and at least for a time he understands why we are doing what we are doing. He is also starting to have skin breakdown from sitting in the wheelchair. He tends to sleep more now, so that has led us to put him in a geriatric chair during the day. That way we can have him sit up for awhile and then put the back down, and get him in a reclining position, thus taking pressure off his tail bone. He does not like this since he can’t move around, but he is slowly getting used to it. Music seems to always help Alzheimer’s patients; I know it helps Edmund a lot. One thing that also helps him is to use prayer forms that he has been using for years. Some days when he is restless, I will take him to his room or to the small chapel that we have, and say the Rosary or the Chaplet of Divine Mercy with him. This immediately gets his attention, and he becomes quiet and reflective, off and on, while these devotions are being said. He will pray with me for a time, then fall asleep, wake up and join me again. He knows he is praying, and I think he sleeps a bit because the tension and anxiety is gone for a time while he prays. Reading scripture also helps, since he has been an avid reader all his life, again the familiarity from years of use centers him for a bit. He still has a ready smile and laugh, and still has the fight in him. Over all he is still at peace, and complies as much as is possible for him. I have no idea what it is like not to remember, not even to how where one is at, and perhaps from time to time not knowing those who have been taking care of him. Our voices help; he seems to calm down a bit when someone who has been taking care of him for along time says something to him. I suppose having short term memory loss is a kind of blessing for him. If something upsets him, in ten minutes or sooner, he forgets about it, and is back to his old smiling self. I think when he listens to music; he loves jazz; he is reliving memories from his 20’s. He sometimes laughs and at others he cries, not in any sense of being sad, but from simple happiness and joy. He loves Billy Holiday, and “Summertime” is his favorite song, something that he likes to listen to more than the others, and never tires of it. He can get quite loud sometimes when singing along, and I at times sing along with him, at least the parts I know, and then I sort of hum along. People often talk about the quality of life for those with Alzheimer’s. and are too quick to say that it is low. Not always true, they have moments that are happy, sad, and tension filled just like the rest of us. Just because they are at a stage that most can’t understand, does not mean that there is no life worth living going on. Sometimes when I talk to Edmund he becomes very animated and open, sharing things from his past that give him pleasure and joy in sharing. It is the moment that is important and dementia patients can have many pleasant ones during the day. They also bring joy to those who take care of them. Music from their past, and if religious, prayer forms that they are familiar with, also connect them to the present and ground them at least for a time. They also have an inner life, and I see no reason to think that they are not still growing spiritually. Edmund is one of my charges for whom I will mourn when he passes, and that is fine, keeps the heart alive to love those I take care of. Perhaps that is why I am in this business, keeps me involved with others, and will not allow me to get so self absorbed, a real danger for me I think. While old age is difficult, taking care of the elderly is a privilege, which allows both parties to grow in love, compassion and also in understanding of each other. I just hope that when my turn comes I will also be gracious to those who take care of me. |
Plateaus
03.09.06 (10:51 am) [edit]
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 I went into Francis’s room last night; as usual for that time of the evening he was laying down. He is on oxygen permanently; he uses a concentrator, two or three liters when he is in bed, and when up and about in his wheel chair, he has to have a large tank with him at all times. I sat with him for awhile and we talked about some things. He brought up that he is looking forward to going back to his assisted living quarters after he gets better. Since this is his first time at having to stay where he needs full time care, it has not yet dawned on him that this is it for him. It id difficult to approach this topic with the ones being cared for, each is unique in how they process information, and some really can’t due to dementia, no short term memory. If the person being cared for has short term memory, I usually just go along with them since in a few minutes the conversation will be forgotten anyway; why upset them for nothing? In Francis case this is not an issue. His mind is still sharp and he is a reasonable person, very easy to take care of, and to talk to; even if from time to time I think he would like to hit me over the head with his tank. We talked about his living in the assisted section, and how hard it was for him to adapt to that arrangement, but in time he got used to it, and became comfortable with our checking in on him a few times a day to make sure everything was alright. Well he was on that plateau for a few years, and now because of his age, and his need for oxygen for 24 hours a day, he has now entered into a new phase of his care. Now we need to be able to watch him and to make sure he is all right, that this tank is full, that he takes his medicines etc. So he will have to adapt to being with us full time. He asked me about his walker, should he try to use it; he is a fighter this one. I said yes, the therapist who comes in three times a week is trying to get him to walk some with the walker; he should still try to be as independent as possible with the knowledge that slowly he will become more dependent on us. Since he has always adapted to new situations in his life no matter how difficult he should be able find peace in his new situation. After I said my peace, he was silent, looking off in the distance and thinking; he then looked at me and said “yes I understand I will be ok". I know this is not easy for him, yet he continues to amaze me with his ability to change even at his advanced age. I only hope I will be half as gracious when I get his age, if I live that long. |
Beads
03.08.06 (8:59 am) [edit]
The beads slowly slip thru the fingers,
In a natural unhurried rhythm,
Calming the mind,
Relaxing the tension,
While the gently fingering of the beads
Frees the mind from unfocused thoughts,
Allowing the silence to grow,
With the whispered prayers
Like a quiet hymn keeping company,
the inner silence held.
The heart expands
To the promptings of grace….
The growing inner peace
Centers the mind and heart,
Allows one to feel,
And to respond to
The every growing light
Seeking healing and peace for all
Encompassing the world
Bringing all without reserve
Into ones heart
Lifting them up to the loving Presence
For healing and forgiveness.
Our oneness experienced
In God’s eternal moment
That is the true reality
That contains all human moments
Bound by time ever before the Presence...
Ever known and loved.
No end in sight
03.07.06 (8:43 am) [edit]
I like being catholic, it is a rich faith with a lot of tradition and wisdom to it, with many writers of spirituality that are varied and deep, some who appeal to me, and others who of course don’t. I have found that Carmelite authors, especially of course St. John of the Cross, have helped me greatly with my own unique path towards union with the Will and Love of God. There is richness to the Catholic tradition that is there for any to find, who would take the time to study and ponder what is there.
I would imagine that the Muslim faith as well as that of Hinduism also has a richness of tradition and experience that is there for any who would wish to take the time and effort to study them. I have studied Hinduism some, and have also visited some of the Temples here in the Atlanta area. There is one near the airport that I enjoy visiting once in awhile and always enjoy the experience. I think the book “Autobiography of Yogi” by Yognananda is a great spiritual classic that I would recommend to anyone. It is one of the best books for someone outside that tradition, to get some insight into this faith that can be so alien to those from western countries. Many Christians fear these religions and some believe that all of the Hindu deities are demons, false gods, and should be avoided. When in actual fact the Hindus worship one God, and the gods are simply emanations from the One God. Of course Hinduism is not just one religion but a sort of umbrella for many different schools of thought and practice. Ones faith is not threatened by the study of the beliefs of others, but a great deal of fear and stereotypical thinking is avoided, which is in fact a form of suffering, but not understood as that, by many who are victims of this all true human trait. I am still working on it, and am not yet out of the woods.
I have not yet spent much time looking into the beliefs of the Muslims. True I know what their central beliefs are but have not pondered them yet. This year I am going to start reading the Koran, probably the best way to understand this faith, though I think commentaries will be needed. The devout Muslims that I have met have impressed me, and the ones that I have met are very kind and loving towards all. I have not yet met any strong fundamentalist, but they probably avoid contact with people like me; being of another faith.
Religion, all religion just like politics can be manipulated by those who seek power and control over others, this is unfortunately inevitable, and like politics is both a curse and a blessing for mankind. My own faith for instances has a checkered past but any institution that is around long enough will have that. Whatever vehicle is used, be it politics, religion, or even the small family, or tribal unit, can only be as good or as evil as those who lead it, and the people who allow them selves to be led without thinking for themselves.
So the tares and the wheat will always exist together, sometimes so close that to tear out the tares will only do harm to the wheat. Such is our dilemma, in a world of opposites, which in many instances are just different sides of the same coin, and both sides are needed for the coin to exist. This tension is painful, and in today’s world where so much is known by the miracle of our instant communication in the news, this tension and suffering is greater than perhaps in the past. We grow as individuals, but also as a species, and at this time, because of the communal experience of the pain in the world, perhaps we are being called to learn that the old ways of doing things simply don’t work, have never really worked, but now we have the chance to see things on a broader scale. Perhaps we need to at last really try what our holy men have been teaching us; to simply love our neighbor as ourselves that the Divine dwells within all. Jesus for a Christian is experienced in others, “whatever you do to the least you do unto me”. Perhaps we Christians should take that more seriously, and also those of other faiths, who use their faith as a barrier, need to look into their own faiths, to find other ways of dealing with how they relate to the world. It is time to stop pointing fingers, for all to expect the fact the ‘we’ are the problem, ‘we’ not ‘them’&hellip ;.there is no ‘them’; ‘we’ are ‘them ’.
Of course all this we-ing I am doing is really all about my own struggle, it is just hard to keep saying ‘I’ all the time. It is so easy to write about love, tolerance, and understanding, but actually very hard for me to actually live it, at least on an interior level. One reason I believe in God, and the grace that is given, is that I often feel a gentle encouraging Presence, that brings me to sanity when I feel that I am about to be devoured by the inner chaos, and irrational insanity, that is my lot, and from the state of the world it is the same at least for some others.
Neither the state nor religion can save us from ourselves, but only the gentle grace, healing, and forgiveness of God. The state, and religion, can really get into the role being the sole judge of what is right, and what is good for everyone. Forgetting in the process, the dignity, and uniqueness, of those who have the gall to disagree with what either the state, or any religion, wants to impose on everyone. It is one thing for me as a Catholic to freely give the church certain rights over me, so that I can be led deeper into my faith, it is another thing for my church, or any church, or institutions, to think that they can force beliefs or certain behaviors onto others. Also nothing wrong on being focused on one path to the exclusion of others, as long as I understand that others have the same rights as I do in this regard and that the actions of God cannot be limited or even understood. God is not a tribal deity for anyone, God is other, infinite, unknowable accept thru love. Our theology and philosophy while needed will always be lacking, no matter how helpful it is for us all on our paths.
The raging soul
03.05.06 (4:43 pm) [edit]
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 The soul aflame with the rage of the gods, with power beyond all comprehension, arose upward without reason, no thought, only blinding emotion burning brightly as it sought it revenge for the blind cruelty of the gods whom it hated. Seeking their destruction, and the fruit of that after eons of waiting, its hoped for rest, release from existence into sweet oblivion, after they were no more. The task impossible already known but it sought its desire none-the-less. |
Peace
03.05.06 (11:37 am) [edit] Peace People often speak about having peace in their lives. In fact peace is something that I also seek, and at times I seem to be able to find a balance in my life, that seems to bring a great deal of inner integration. Unfortunately like all my other states, both ‘ negative ’ and ‘ positive ’ they are passing, one emotional state flows naturally into another. One positive aspect of this is that I have slowly learned over the years that if I am just patient enough, the wheel will turn and things will change for the better, that no state no matter how bad or painful will last forever, though at the time I sometimes have to take that on faith. What is thee nature of peace? Well the obvious answer to that inquiry is that it is an absence of conflict, whether inner or outer. I think inner peace is the most important, since without it, peace in my surronding environment would not be helpful, or even last for long if I happen to be in the area; severe conflict within often leads thru projection to conflict with those around me. People who are mentally ill for instance can act in certain ways that can be bothersome to others, but the person lacking the capacity to see another point of view, may be without inner conflict about his or her actions; though they may run into trouble on a regular basis with others. So a peace of sorts comes about when it is always the others problem, and not theirs. Of course people with ‘ personality disorders ’ do the same thing, and are also incapable of seeing another point of view. This is of course not a moral issue since the freedom to choose is either lacking, or so weak, that the human will in the since of being able to make choices, does not enter into the picture. People often know this about mentally ill people, and those with personality disorders, and adapt to them, dealing with them in such a way that their own frustration is limited, since their capabilities are understood and accepted. When insight comes, often suddenly, thru some shock from without, and unlooked for…..is usually when the journey begins. The deepening of self-knowledge, and the desire to become better, to grow and to move into a larger world so to speak, whether it be thru conversion, or simply by way of wanting to live a more productive life; the peace no matter how little that one had before, is disrupted, and the journey of inner conflict begins. The abandonment of a former way of life that is self-centered, to other-centered, brings about a kind of death to the old way do doing things that can often be very painful, and frustrating, both for the one changing, and for those who live with them. As a Christian I am free to do certain things. I am free to love, to treat others as I would like to be treated, to not use others as mere objects. I am not free to steal, hate, cheat, lie, kill another etc. A person, who lives only for his, or herself, is free to pretty much do whatever they want, to get what they want, and this freedom can bring them peace since they would see no need to change, or to perhaps to perceive the world differently. I suppose it is the fruit of the two opposing world views that bring about change in others. The longer a person lives only for themselves for instances, the smaller their world becomes since the number of people they can use and abuse tends to lessen as their lives move on, some learn from this others not. Those that do not learn are often alone without friends in the end, since the ingredients for a real relationship are missing. I am often in conflict since I often have to struggle with the freedom that I am striving for. I still lack integration in some areas of my life, so discipline and suppression are needed tools to help me on my journey. I suppose it is the very struggle that is slowly leading me to the inner freedom that Christ promises, a freedom that I already have but perhaps do not yet experience fully. It is the freedom to love that I try to use as my guiding point, and when I fail I know it; at least much of the time, get up and move forward, making proper amends to those who I have perhaps hurt or misunderstood. I suppose one area in my life that causes me a certain amount of angst is my relationship with authority. I often speak about being objective, but I am beginning to believe that is impossible, since I can only bring my own experience into any given situation, and my interpretation of any one event will flow from that. The conflict comes when I know that my take on any given issue is clouded, the struggle often comes with me trying to keep that before me in any given situation that is stressful. So until this issue is integrated into my life, it will continue to cause conflict, sometimes more and others less, because of my struggle to get more balance in this aspect of my personality. So conflict is a good thing, it means that I am still on the road and my faith is the compass that leads me forward, sometimes slowly at others faster, but no matter how slow or fast, perseverance is needed, the stubborn refusal not to give up. I suppose a lack of conflict would not be a good indicator for me since I am still just beginning my journey. Perhaps I will always be a beginner. I know that not everyone experience life the way I do and my not agree with the above, which is fine, we are all unique and we all have a path to follow that is ours alone, though at points we may be able to cross paths and get glimmers of understanding and compassion. |
Walks
03.03.06 (4:29 pm) [edit]
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 I like going for walks in the very early morning or late in afternoon just before the Sun goes down. There is something very special about those times of the day. The morning with its promise of a new beginning, and the evening with its invitation to rest after a long day, often tiring and sometimes frustrating; such is life. I find that my best walks take place in the cooler months, and the time between seasons is really primo time for me. I like the warring that goes on between summer and fall, and winter and spring; one day very cold and the next warmer, each day is different. Unlike the deep season when each day can be pretty much like the one before it. Where I often walk there is a dirt road that straddles two man made ponds, one of the ponds the upper one has fish, turtles and lots of birds living on or in the pond. The lower one was put in for irrigation so it has less fish that live in it, though there are lots of birds; geese mostly that like to spend a lot of time there. I like it when it is foggy over the pond, sometimes so much so that you can’t see very far at all, it is like being in a room that has fog for walls, not a bad feeling actually. I like to watch the rolling of the fog over the water, very beautiful, a great work of natural art. One day I can remember walking on the road and it was very foggy and cool, quiet, muted, the way it gets when the weather is like that; when suddenly from the fog a very large white Swan swam by, silent and majestic in its beauty and grace. It did not make a sound as it glided by followed by the gentle ripples that it created in its wake….. it was so beautiful that I think I stopped breathing It was one those moments that can’t be planned but will just happen and hopefully enjoyed to its fullest. Just two days ago I was walking in the morning about 6 AM; daylight was just a touch on the horizon, nice cold wind, but no fog this time. It was then that the geese started to call each other from the different ponds. The geese on my left would make their ‘geesy’ sounds and then in a moment the ones on the right would answer, this went on for about 20 minutes, sort of like a monastic choir doing Lauds; it was very beautiful with a definite rhythm to it that I liked very much. So I stopped, closed my eyes allowing myself to feel the cold breeze, breathe in the air deeply, and just quieted my mind, being in the moment; another gift that I needed. It is such a relief to be able to quiet the mind, to simply rest and put a stop for a time to the’ drunken monkey mind’ that sometimes gives me no rest with it constant inner chatter. As I get older I am doing better in keeping it tp more of a minimum; but nature has a way of really putting the mind at rest especially for me in the early morning or evening hours. We are not our thoughts, we are more than that, we can still be aware without a thought in our mind. The brain is more emotional than rational. Without thought self awareness is present, without emotion there is simply nothing. I suppose we need thought to deal with the differing emotional states that we constantly find ourselves in that will often dictate what our thinking will consist of. Many of my thoughts are really just tapes that will start up at the proper cues and sort of run on their own. One good thing about learning to pray and also to meditate is that they can both teach the skill on how to step back and simply observe the movie that is going on in ones head. I believe that in our deepest center we are silent, we just are, watching and observing what is going on at the outer rim of the wheel that we all seem to be connected to. This of course is only my idea that is shared by some and laughed at by others, but that is my experience. Our connection with God is deeper and closer than we could ever think or imagine or hope for. |
What we long for
03.02.06 (7:04 pm) [edit]
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 We long for the touch Deeper than our skin, More hidden from view Than our heart….. With its lust and desires That ensnares and deceives us. The desire, Flowing unchecked From our center deep, Compels us to seek, Hopefully to find, That which will give us peace Lasting in its healing effect, Deep eternal in the love shown, Not ephemeral Like morning dew before the Sun. Leading to freedom And not slavery. This is often our lot, Given the name freedom, But in reality Binds us with chains unbreakable; But by grace, An eternal state, Since love is freely given Without need or compulsion, All we need do is say FIAT. |
Repentance
03.02.06 (3:00 am) [edit]
There are things I have done in my past that still cause a wound in my heart to open up, when they come to mind. Words I have said to another, actions against someone, attitudes felt and even encouraged that caused another pain, silly power plays that caused harm etc.; the list goes on and on.
It is the look in the eyes of those I in some way hurt that seem to rise up and haunt me at times, not in anyway that is destructive, but in a way that cautions me not to purposely cause another pain like that again, pain that was caused by my callous disregard for the rights, feelings, and emotions of the other.
Things that I said to my parents that I regret, the way I treated some of my brothers and sisters when young, the callous way when in my very early twenties that I sometimes treated women, not even beginning to understand the depth of the pain that I most likely cause