Posts Tagged ‘peace’

First, I want to point out that I struggle with the concept of “A God” You’re thinking that something happened in my life to question a divine-intersex’s existence. Yes, but it’s not what you think. The battle has to do with the use of the word vs action.

Everywhere I go, I hear, “Thank God.” A baby falls out of a three story building and lives, by a feat of heroism or—dare I say—a miracle. Who do we blame when the baby dies? We don’t scream at the devil. And what about those people who saved the baby? They are thanked but only as a tool of God. People devote many years of their lives studying ways to save human lives. Most police officers understand that their job sometimes require the ultimate sacrifice. Our military suffers the most yet when they manage to survive and make it home, God is nowhere to be seen, to ensure the healing and gratitude they earned.

Now I want to tell you a story/joke. You may have heard it somewhere before, but It’s a story/joke that’s stuck with me. I, of course, am adding my own twist to make a deeper point.

A man stood on his rooftop surrounded by rising water. He prayed to God. To help him.

A man in a rowboat came by and told him to hop in. The man refused, saying God would save him. The water rose higher. A man in a motor boat came by and told him to hop in. Again, the man refused saying that God would save him. Just as a helicopter flew to him and hovered a few feet above his head, the water rose up over the man’s ankles. A rope ladder was thrown down to dangle just able the man’s head. A woman yelled for him to climb up and instead of grabbing hold of the ladder. He pushed it away and said, “I don’t need your help. God will save me. The helicopter pilot flew away.

The man drowns and goes to heaven where he meets god. The man is furious. He yells, “I had faith in you! I had faith that you would save me, and  instead you let me drown!” God smiles and says, “I sent you a rowboat, a motor boat, and a helicopter.”

“But that was not you,” the man whined.

“Of course it was,” God replied in a voice that projected a murmur of many tones, female and male. “Every choice you make brings you closer to us or further from us. It is not the acts thrust upon you, but the reaction to those acts that define who you are. Together we are invincible, apart we are vulnerable. That is why we test each other. We are the good actions and the bad actions that stand at every crossroad. On earth, our choices affect all like they do here, but there on, on earth, you think you’re alone and that makes you prey to fear which leads to hate which causes pain to millions who you refuse to see or know. If on earth you can see others outside of your skin, then ascension has begin. For, if you can feel beyond the limits of your body you will never feel alone again.

“What does this mean for me?”

“Back down you go.”

”Noooooooo.”

Having been to many medical specialists, I know who cares rather than see me as a statistic. I change doctors and specialists when they make me feel like a blob of flesh riding on the conveyor belt. A few doctors lost my trust just by their pernicious wording as pertaining to my life expectancy. For instance, the breast surgeon who cut away me cancer (And breasts) spoke only about my 80% chance to live. I changed doctors and my new doctor gave me a hug. I am not a statistic. I’m a person with emotions. So. Here are some people that Have earned my respect.

My sister: We had a rocky start. She is day and I am night but we are true family  linked by twilight. Our children brought us closer, but my cancer revealed the depth of our connection. During chemotherapy, though I looked like the walking dead, with no hair, she called me up every day to walk. I know, now, because of our stressful childhood, that she is good at hiding her emotions. I learned last year that our father’s antics hurt her emotionally. We all suffered differently. It’s sad we had to do it alone until then. Anyway, she kept me going through a hard time and I can’t thank her enough.

My brother George: Keeps me on my toes. I call him my human autocorrect. He’s hysterical and so fast with his wit. He’s there when I need to vent. He doesn’t mince words or placate me, and tells me what I should hear rather than what I want to hear. George was there The Whole time during our mother’s illness. Stayed by her side when the rest of us couldn’t be there. I thank him dearly for that. His husband is the straight-man in their relationship….LMAO see what I did there?

John: Johnny boy. No longer a boy, but a man with two beautiful, smart, and amazing daughters. He’s loyal to the core, despite being betrayed by a man who hid his true nature from John, for years. Since I started caring for his daughters, I’ve gotten to know the man and stopped seeing him as a boy all together. He works his ass off and takes care of his family.  His children are his Breaths and his wife, a wonderful strong woman, is his heart. It’s wonderful to see him mentally escape the corruption that was our father. I know that emotionally he still struggles, but he’s winning the fight. We have a family history, on our father’s side, of a cycle of breaking up families. He single handedly broke the cycle last year. John Weissinger is an amazing person indeed.

Jan my friend: Single-handedly restored my faith in friendships. She speaks her mind, understands and voices her vulnerabilities. We can agree to disagree and there are no requirements to being her friend. What a nice change of pace. I’m not perfect. I make mistakes. I get emotionally all warrior at times, more and more infrequently now, but she doesn’t attack me because of it. She offers different perceptions and strategies to go about facing whatever it is disabling my intellectual brain. I love her for it.

Shout out: To Melissa, my physical therapist who, with an amazing team, got me looking forward to being tortured( LMOA) and walking again. I had a knee replacement last July. I knew I needed to exercise to get my knee working again, but I didn’t realize the physical and emotional toll it would have on me. You get the physical part, I’m sure, but emotional? Let me explain…During Chemo your body is poisoned and your insides start to mush up because of opoptosis (Cell death) all you want to do is sleep. The pain from the knee replacement caused that same reaction. I wanted to sleep. Didn’t want to go out, but walked anyway because… well, I did want to walk again. And then I started Physical therapy. Melissa turned that pain into motivation. She treated me like a human being. Talked about her life and her struggles, both good and bad, and made me feel like I was going to a coffee house with a friend, (replace the coffee with painful stretches) instead of see pain as a negative. I think only people who’ve been through this truly understand what I’m saying. Like I mentioned previously, I only stick with people who are true to their purpose, themselves and their lives. People who are heroes in their fields because they care. From day one, I knew she did.

More to come…. People are inspiring me a lot lately.

 

 

Love doesn’t die—-

I’d put off getting my new driver’s license for weeks. Why? I needed a notary to apply for an original birth certificate. Why they couldn’t acknowledge my existence when they’re the ones that sent me the reminder to update my license, is beyond me. Had my date of birth and everything on my old one, oh well. Why am I telling you this? Well, I hadn’t planned on doing that today, until, who I like to call my muse, intuition and sometimes Mom, pinged my brain with a sense of urgency. “Do in now,” it said. “And don’t go where you’d planned. Go to the library.” Even from the beyond, when she says “Jump.” I say, “How high.” So pushy…

And this is what happened—-

The notary recognized me. I felt bad that I couldn’t say the same. She told me that our children knew each other 15 years ago and that, during an elementary school event, I told her something that helped her through a tough time. She remembered the story I told her about how my mother, who died 22 years ago, kept coming to me like she needed to tell me something. She entered my dreams at night and played with my anxiety during the day. Finally, I made an appointment with a medium so I could speak with her.  (I’d never been to one before, though I do believe.) I’m glad I listened. She told me I was sick and it had to do with female issues. Well, she was right. With no symptoms to speak of, my very first mammography revealed I had an aggressive form of breast cancer.

(Back to today and the notary) She remembered the story and in fact kept it close to her heart al these years. What I didn’t know was, at the time, her father had passed. They were close. She thanked me, rendering me speechless. That alone can be considered a miracle.

So, if you haven’t guessed, I follow the from-the-beyond signs and paths.

I have three children, all adults now. My twenty-one year old daughter came to me today, furious. I thought something terrible had happened and jumped immediately into the protective mommy zone.  “The world is soo unfair,” she shouted. I cocked my head at the unexpected declaration. I’m fifty, so yeah, I know the world is unfair, but I let her vent. At age twelve, my tall slim little girl was diagnosed with severe scoliosis. After two major surgeries, her spine, through not significantly curved is still very twisted, giving her the lung capacity of an eighty year old and a bladder the size of a toddler. Her outrage was for the latter. “Why, in general, are men’s bathrooms equipped with several stalls and urinals and the women’s with just two stalls with one broken forever? I have to wait on line which makes me late for classes.” Once her rage took hold, she yelled about other venues and injustices women endure every single day.

The women reading this get it. Though the rights of validity, through protests and celebrity endorsements, have moved the scales (At a snail’s pace) closer together, it will be some time before architecture, medicine, rights, considerations, man made religions, etc… catch up to nature or die. And the old narcissist fearful, cowardice men in power gently fall into a forever sleep. It will happen, unfortunately not for me in this lifetime. Not that I sit back and let it happen. I fight. I was born with sharp teeth. Maybe when I’m reincarnated….I’ll get to experience nature’s balanced world or maybe another because the narcissists destroyed the earth to make their billions just before they died.

As women continued to step up, help each other, stand strong for one another and not fall folly to the manipulations of weak, cowardly men who demoralize them with the use of politics, religion and “Cause I said so, woman!” Even though I may not be your next door neighbor, I am with you. Women make up 51% of the USA population and that’s despite how many of us are killed/devalued by boyfriends, husbands, stalkers, predators who hate women because their own personal insecurities, men who blame women for their own disgusting weak thoughts. We are blamed for all of men’s weakness. Women are the blamed for original sin. (Man-made religions do that) Thank goodness these men are dying out and men with compassion who don’t need to belittle others to feel strong are thriving. Yay for that. We do not exist to be doormats. At one time, women kept tribes nourished by producing 70% of the food consumed.

Breastfeeding is 100% natural. To all those who have a problem with a mommy feeding their baby in public…. go enjoy yourself a cigarette!!!!

Thank you for reading!

In return to learn

My spirit hungers for knowledge greater than any pain a challenge offers

Lessons are brutal

The scars I bear are the badges I display in every life I live

I chose them to lift me up or break me into little pieces of reflection

The more times I return insures deeper wounds

Greater feelings

Those around me and with me are handpicked by me

They’ll catch my tears or shove me into the hole I’ve dug for myself

and sometimes are the guides I refuse to hear

I started out a speck of barely anything

My steps forward were short and strenuous

Simple but momentous results did occur

They took on momentum the more I succeeded or failed

A diamond is coal under pressure for billions of years before becoming more

Not difficult to see the similarities

Nature is a blueprint of what we could be

Pay attention

Don’t take nature for granted

We are all part of each other

And never forget

Failure is part of learning

Hi. Welcome to four deaths and a fire. Not a chill place for my mind to be, but oh hell, we all have those moments. I am happy. The choices I’ve made in the past few years have helped with anger and grief. The last three months have fast forwarded my life progress by light years. My husband will argue that light years is a physical distance and not a measure in time, but I’m an author so… it’s okay.

Anyhow, It started with a request and ended with a death. Accurate summary. Doesn’t everything profound start with something simple? A decision you make now can change your life forever tomorrow. For some, Life begins.

Like childbirth or slamming your funny-bone (not everyone experiences childbirth), all beginnings are painful, out of our control and wrought with fear.  Yet somehow we grow into adults. Oh. I should mention. I was never child. By the time I became aware of living, my mind was thrust into a world of lies and deceit wrapped in the arms of an Italian mother. A mommy lifeline. Also known as a confusing long tether that, on occasion, left me adrift, swimming through confusion. Or, the cord was wrapped so tightly around my body it made it impossible to move or grow.

My mom was strong/weak. Powerful in her love for us children. Weak because she loved him, too. Her love for him became her downfall. She died. Do I blame him? Yes and no. Why, because I know right from wrong. He was the epitome of wrong. My mom died Twenty-one years ago. He died Three months ago. Funny thing… I cried as his life faded to nothing before my eyes. Cried like I did for my mom when she took her last breath.

Isn’t that interesting?

One day, after playing with my niece, my brother came to me with daunting news and a request. Dad was very sick and in the hospital and he wanted to see his children. He wanted to ask for forgiveness for being indifferent most of our lives. Hmmm. I’d already had closure about ten years ago. He came back into my life, against my personal wishes, when I was diagnosed with breast cancer. Another story. I’m good. Not the point. The moral of that story is you don’t deserve attention from him if your not dying anymore.

At that time, I gave him two rules of our relationship. One, he had to work at being a father. Two, if he left, that was it. He left. Guess I was wrong. That wasn’t it. When he called for us, I went. I literally said I forgave him during my first visit. He cried. By my next visit, he was back to being the angry, I hate the world man, that afterward claimed that oh, that’s all in the past, and I don’t wish people harm. My inner child smirked. I told him he really had to let go of his rage. On my third or fourth visit, I was alone with him and we had a two hour conversation in which he confessed some disturbing truths about himself. I believe it was the first time we ever had an honest conversation. Past chats included me telling him to leave at two different times, once when I was thirteen and another, I think I was seventeen, and on other occasions asking “who is she?”.

I’m pretty sure, as his illness progressed, the four of us visited every single day. We fought with the doctors on numerous occasions. We were losing another parent, and the tough years before didn’t matter.

He passed on April 9th 2018 as we stood around his bed. We sought comfort in each other and that was beautiful. Despite everything he did to tear us apart, the moment he took his last breath, we became a stronger healthier family.

Which is very fortunate… My father may have moved on, but his past is alive and well and we have been fighting to restore our legacy ever since. Crazy woman, poison ivy, a platoon of cats won’t stop us from achieving our goal. Putting to rest our past.

 

 

 

 

 

A ring shatters the night calm

Shakes the sanity from deep inside

I know who it’s about

My heart rushes up into my throat

Rushed words

Despite our distance

We speed to the hospital

You never came to us, but we run to you

Heart over mind

Love devouring anger

No time for the past

Later or never

We run to you after you ran away from us

Reasons be damned

Tears will fall either way

When we say goodbye

The tether between us, snaps

Pain

Good or bad

We are who we are

Discord is nothing new to me

The place I grew up a toddler’s finger painting called chaos

Innocence dragged through the mud

Hosed off and kissed on the forehead

Pretend that didn’t happen

At intervals it didn’t

Until

Innocence was stripped to the bone at thirteen

Came out of the womb with my hand raised in the air

I’ve been on to you from day one

So, you think I don’t see the lie?

Even though I love you

I won’t let your false tears pass my guard

My tears are real, but you’ll never understand them

Just like I don’t know you

You don’t know me

Never will

Your decisions are forgiven

because

To see you there

Frightened 

The child in you peering out through your eyes

My mind surrenders to my broken heart

No one should be alone

Not even you

Not now

Say Thank You
Say thank you. Say thank you to the women who gave you a voice. Say thank you to the women who were arrested and imprisoned and beaten and gassed for you to have a voice. Say thank you to the women who refused to back down, to the women who fought tirelessly to give you a voice. Say thank you to the women who put their lives on hold, who –lucky for you — did not have “better things to do” than to march and protest and rally for your voice. So you don’t feel like a “second class citizen.” So you get to feel “equal.”
Thank Susan B. Anthony and Alice Paul for your right to vote.
Thank Elizabeth Stanton for your right to work.
Thank Maud Wood Park for your prenatal care and your identity outside of your husband.
Thank Rose Schneiderman for your humane working conditions.
Thank Eleanor Roosevelt and Molly Dewson for your ability to work in politics and affect policy.
Thank Margaret Sanger for your legal birth control.
Thank Carol Downer for your reproductive healthcare rights.
Thank Sarah Muller for your equal education.
Thank Ruth Bader Ginsburg, Shannon Turner, Gloria Steinem, Zelda Kingoff Nordlinger, Rosa Parks, Angela Davis, Malika Saada Saar, Wagatwe Wanjuki, Ida B. Wells, Malala Yousafzai. Thank your mother, your grandmother, your great-grandmother who did not have half of the rights you have now.
You can make your own choices, speak and be heard, vote, work, control your body, defend yourself, defend your family, because of the women who marched. You did nothing to earn those rights. You were born into those rights. You did nothing, but you reap the benefits of women, strong women, women who fought misogyny and pushed through patriarchy and fought for you. And you sit on your pedestal, a pedestal you are fortunate enough to have, and type. A keyboard warrior. A fighter for complacency. An acceptor of what you were given. A denier of facts. Wrapped up in your delusion of equality.
You are not equal. Even if you feel like you are. You still make less than a man for doing the same work. You make less as a CEO, as an athlete, as an actress, as a doctor. You make less in government, in the tech industry, in healthcare.
You still don’t have full rights over your own body. Men are still debating over your uterus. Over your prenatal care. Over your choices.
You still have to pay taxes for your basic sanitary needs.
You still have to carry mace when walking alone at night. You still have to prove to the court why you were drunk on the night you were raped. You still have to justify your behavior when a man forces himself on you.
You still don’t have paid (or even unpaid) maternity leave. You still have to go back to work while your body is broken. While you silently suffer from postpartum depression.
You still have to fight to breastfeed in public. You still have to prove to other women it’s your right to do so. You still offend others with your breasts.
You are still objectified. You are still catcalled. You are still sexualized. You are still told you’re too skinny or you’re too fat. You’re still told you’re too old or too young. You’re applauded when you “age gracefully.” You’re still told men age “better.” You’re still told to dress like a lady. You are still judged on your outfit instead of what’s in your head. What brand bag you have still matters more than your college degree.
You are still being abused by your husband, by your boyfriend. You’re still being murdered by your partners. Being beaten by your soulmate.
You are still worse off if you are a woman of color, a gay woman, a transgender woman. You are still harassed, belittled, dehumanized.
Your daughters are still told they are beautiful before they are told they are smart. Your daughters are still told to behave even though “boys will be boys.” Your daughters are still told boys pull hair or pinch them because they like them.
You are not equal. Your daughters are not equal. You are still systemically oppressed.
Estonia allows parents to take up to three years of leave, fully paid for the first 435 days. United States has no policy requiring maternity leave.
Singapore’s women feel safe walking alone at night. American women do not.
New Zealand’s women have the smallest gender gap in wages, at 5.6%. United States’ pay gap is 20%.
Iceland has the highest number of women CEOs, at 44%. United States is at 4.0%.
The United States ranks at 45 for women’s equality. Behind Rwanda, Cuba, Philippines, Jamaica.
But I get it. You don’t want to admit it. You don’t want to be a victim. You think feminism is a dirty word. You think it’s not classy to fight for equality. You hate the word pussy. Unless of course you use it to call a man who isn’t up to your standard of manhood. You know the type of man that “allows” “his” woman to do whatever she damn well pleases. I get it. You believe feminists are emotional, irrational, unreasonable. Why aren’t women just satisfied with their lives, right? You get what you get and you don’t get upset, right?
I get it. You want to feel empowered. You don’t want to believe you’re oppressed. Because that would mean you are indeed a “second-class citizen.” You don’t want to feel like one. I get it. But don’t worry. I will walk for you. I will walk for your daughter. And your daughter’s daughter. And maybe you will still believe the world did not change. You will believe you’ve always had the rights you have today. And that’s okay. Because women who actually care and support other women don’t care what you think about them. They care about their future and the future of the women who come after them.
Open your eyes. Open them wide. Because I’m here to tell you, along with millions of other women that you are not equal. Our equality is an illusion. A feel-good sleight of hand. A trick of the mind. I’m sorry to tell you, but you are not equal. And neither are your daughters.
But don’t worry. We will walk for you. We will fight for you. We will stand up for you. And one day you will actually be equal, instead of just feeling like you are.
~ Dina Leygerman, 2017

To all mothers and fathers, grandparents step parents guardians etc. It is time. You need to show your children respect for yourselves in order to teach them respect for others. You need to step down off that pedestal to show them we are all equal and we all make mistakes. You need to teach your children to love themselves so they know how to treat others with the same considerations. You need to show them a good work ethic and stamina to reach higher than we have and go for their dreams. Teach them money isn’t everything. That anyone or anything that tramples on other people’s lives is oppression. That to make fun of the less fortunate is simply wrong. To grow their heart and minds beyond what they see and what ignorant people say. To make instinctual choices that betters our family, our friends our communities’ lives. To understand No means No. That how you treat others is a reflection of one’s self. That people need help no matter what the circumstance. Even if the don’t ask for it. To help without expectation. Teach forgiveness by forgiving. This is very difficult, but will make their lives happier despite whatever was done or said. To teach them anything said or done to them, is never about them. That actions occur from within. That a smile and a thank you is worth more than any sum of money. By doing this, you will show your children unconditional love. Nothing they do will make YOU walk away because humans make mistakes. And even if that mistake puts them in jail for the rest of their lives…Your love for them will never die. We need to move forward together.