Posts Tagged ‘thoughts’

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.”

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.

Giving up a limb, young looking hair and a good portion of our sanity are what mother’s do for their children and the world. No questions asked. For ten months we deal with hormone spikes, horror stories, remolding of our bodies and criticism of ignorant men (and some women). Or after applying for motherhood, we wait with bleeding fingernails and flesh trembling anxiety hoping we get the call that fills our dream. That female spark extends to aunts who love their nieces and nephews as if they were their own. Grandmas. Sisters. Women are innate warriors and peacekeepers. We welcome children, infants and even hurting adults into our lives knowing our hearts will be put at risk of breaking and still we welcome that future with open arms. Why? It’s part of who we are.

Mom’s are the backbone of all families. We give without taking. We love with no expectations and we do our best to teach our children to grow into responsible compassionate adults. This is no easy feat. It took us decades to fight through fear and oppression to get where we are today, proving that we are strong and untiring. We are not where we should be in nature, as an equal provider with our counterparts, yet, but we are ascending slowly and constantly.  I call it the “Awakening”. The more of us who find our voices the more eyes will be opened to paths hidden from us by weak and fearful obstructionists.

Woman are more than mothers. We are hard workers, compassionate caregivers, and inspirational human beings outside of our homes. Why? Because we never let go of who we are on the inside. We work harder and sacrifice more today because of the narrowed minded men who created this country. We fought through decades of abandonment, suffering, belittling, being objectified, betrayal, to get where we are today and we have a long way to go. And we will get there. Next, I will write about strong women in my life.

 

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

A rose by any other name would smell as sweet. The name is as relevant as the person who named it and thus has very little consequence. A rose and its classification as a flower are titles given by the least of the world’s natural entities… human. It’s beauty is ranked in the eye of the individual beholder. There are humans who hate flowers and are disgusted by their presence, just as there are those who find fecal matter the end-all-and-be-all of life. I find myself arguing for the right of my perception to be valid rather than the legitimacy of my view point, more and more these days. The art of semantics. I should write that book. Perhaps after I finish the Waking Up Vampire series. The art of Semantics’ sub-title: Why people live by definition rather than consequence. or.. Why people need to blame a divine entity for their decisions when in reality it is where their consciousness leads them. I’m not exempt from the inconsistency of irrational thought. In fact, I spend a lot of time meditating on this intriguing phenomenon, so much that I can announce, in the moment before a crazy irrational, unreasonable tirade is about to take over my, normally pleasant (Yes. You can laugh) laid back temperament that I’m about to explode. I’m going to write more about this on my blog… after I finish writing/editing the last 200 plus pages of Waking Up Vampire.. in the next two weeks. To tide you over, be my guest and read Twisted Fate, by Mel Evers. A review would be wonderful and truly kiss-your-feet appreciated. Peace

*Write about a moment in childhood when you suddenly caught a glimpse of the adult world.

(When my mom had cancer)

-she wore beautiful colorful bandanas
-she was so strong even when weak

She walked through the front door… For the first time in what felt like forever, I got to see her. The image of her weakness did not hide the strength hidden within her. The battle scars were out to show the world what she had endured and conquered. She wore the colorful bandana that covered what once sprouted thick dark brown locks and her body was now frail though just a year before, she could carry a child in each arm with one more pulling at her leg.
Standing on the carpeted blue steps just 10 feet away from the door, my ignorant seven year old legs shook. Was it excitement? Was it pain? Maybe they were eager to run up to her so I could hug her and never let go. What was stopping me? Frozen in my own mind, I could only think of how happy I was to see her. Though I was not told, maybe I knew deep down that what was only three days in the hospital, was almost a lifetime of loss. Almost a year of staying at my cousins house on and off and being taken care of by my dad yet nothing ever occurred to me farther than “mommy is sick.” Almost a year of doctors’ appointments and chemotherapy.
The welcome home banner above my head, decorated by family as what we treated as an art project, represented what was rather than what could have been. Pictures of rainbows, colorful houses and happy stick figures covered the grateful banner. The representation of returning strength and a future with her, rather than without. A future full of hope rather than loss of the most important woman in my life. The woman that took care of me when I was hurt or sick. The one that refused to leave my side when I needed her. That moment is drilled into my mind, will never be just a memory, but a reminder of what I have and what matters. A memory that drives me to hold on to what I have for as long as I can and to not take anyone for granted. A memory that once in a while shows itself to remind me of the moments that could have been lost if things would have been different.
I jump off the stairs and run to her. I have never let go since.

4/16/18

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

Yesterday I had an… I’ll call it an epiphany. Although it was slowly rolling closer like a cresting wave flowing through the ocean that suddenly turned into a tsunami. And yes, it dragged me under, threw me about and deprived me of air. Worse yet, my heart suffocated to the point of death and the only way to survive was to fight my perceptions of “what is” to see the truth. The truth is always so much more painful. It is my burden alone to recognize the world around me. To take cues from words and make assumptions that make us feel better about ourselves. I missed the actions stating the blaring obvious that I was wrong, because being wrong would hurt. I hurt. It’s my fault that I hurt. I’m usually guarded. Observant. Skeptical of the world. Sometimes I forget that people are human. I’ve put some on pedestals in the past which turned out to be catastrophic. Pain teaches you, until the pain subsides and you think you’ve learned. And I did. But it takes more than one slap in the face to teach you not to offer your cheek to everyone. It’s sad but true. Everyone you let in, you give the power to hurt you. Risk is part of life. Without taking risks, there is no life. But I digress.

There have been a few times in my life when I came crawling back to my husband and children, licking my wounds. Their love is true and unconditional. Our relationships respectful because of the full understanding of boundaries. Boundaries that were precisely erected over time using arguments, love and respect as binding agents.

This time, I licked my wounds in silence, using Reiki healing techniques my sister taught me. I engaged my higher self and rooted my being to earth. Once my heart’s ache subsided to the point where giving in to the pain was no longer an option, I knew what I had to do. My decision will go against my nature, but sometimes that’s a must. I don’t expect others to make and effort understand me. Nor do I want them to. The difference will be subtle to the world, but rendering to my instincts. It will take a while, but eventually standing behind this necessary deep line will become part of my balance and will keep me on a new, albeit, positive path.

I learned a long time ago that I am responsible for anything that happens in my life. Blaming others for not being who I wanted them to be created an issue where I felt exonerated in the emotional fall out. I don’t believe in the bigger person concept. That just makes me a false martyr. A very sad, angry and delusional “Bigger Person”. A bigger pain in the ass to everyone.

So, when an emotional tsunami hits, I let it pull me under, smash me against anger and hurt until I break its hold and I’m dumped onto the hot sand on my back, arms splayed looking at the storm rolling above. I understand I’m there because I swam to far, passed where I should have been, and entered the deep waters where I could no longer escape  the cataclysmic wave. I’m sorry for stepping over the line. I’m sorry for being oblivious of the boundaries. Complete peace won’t return any time soon, which will make it easier for me to see the line.

 

Is the collusion of snowflakes a blanket of ignorance that makes everything the same? Suffocate differences. The absence of color. Numbing pain. A blanket of cold appearing as warmth in desperate hands. Blood and bone beneath sheets of foggy ice. Freezing thoughts of comfort. A slow death. Sleeping betrayal. Yes. But. The sun comes out. Heat melts the eyes awakens the mind and stimulates the heart. Not all but some. Enough. To burn the blanket. Dissolving the carefully woven crystals arresting thoughts. Salvation. Self-preservation. In that light, that encouraging inferno, we cling to each other. We are one, the decrepit, the strong, the despairing, the hearty. There are no them—we—us. Just me.