Life thoughts, memories and contemplations

Poem

2009-09-12T19:45:00.000-07:00

We are caught on the edge of a swirl
Things rush by us never to land and
Always moving.
We are pushed to stay where we are
To relax and fall into a stupor
Commitment means letting go of all that
And trusting

Hiding behind Shame

2009-09-12T19:31:00.000-07:00

SHAME

seeking truth?
Watch out for Shame.
With Shame present,
there is no truth,
only illusion.
Shame hides truth
As the magician cloaks his trick
To create the lie
we don't know as a lie.
When Shame is gone,
the illusion is revealed.
When Shame is gone,
the truth comes out.

Unlocking the chains of shame is simple
ASK
Abracadabra!!
Shame released!!
Chains fall away
truth is revealed.
It takes the courage
to ask for truth,
Any truth.
painful or joyful

What are some things you are ashamed of, what are you holding shame around?

Poorer and Poorer

2009-08-14T09:52:00.000-07:00

The following was written about six or eight months ago. Since that time, much has happened. I am working on a post concerning a town hall meeting I attended this week and will follow this post with that one. Enjoy this one until then.

In gratitude for all that is

Our Society seems to becoming poorer and poorer in monetary means and in spirit.

Doing poorly, they used to say about someone who had been ill and wasn't quite recovering.

Yes, doing poorly.

I would always envision a chakey face, trembling body and dour nature. Not a pretty sight to a young fresh kid.

Later as I became older I learned what holding a hand can do and I learned to give in ways I'd never known.

I was an ardent volunteer, always able to imagine something better. I knew change could happen, because I'd been through adolescent and insanity and having children and all kinds of changes.

I knew it was possible. Change really does happen as you get older.

I believe we can breathe the life back into our world by simply being who we are.

Being "real" and being.

It's a tough assignment as I look all around at the death and decay and fear and anger and all that is happening in our external world.

Sometimes, I think. I don't have to do this much longer, because I'm pretty old already and it's the ones who come after me that will really have to knuckle down and survive.

But, then I remember that we are all one and so in a way, it will be me doing it anyway. Guess we really are all in the together.

And as I think on that, it comforts me to know we are just learning and learning is sometimes difficult. Bring on the lessons!

I kick back when I need a break, but I’m always glad to get back in the fray! It's my way of being me. Inquisitive, energetic, respectful, and quick. Like a squirrel. (Not sure how they are respectful, but I think they are. )

Ever see two squirrels meet on a telephone wire, each one going in the opposite direction? It is quite the acrobatic show, but somehow they work it out.

I think we as individuals are like that. At times when we meet others of our own kind in a sort of acrobatic maneuvering of positions until cooperation leads us to the beauty of life..

Like a dance we sort things out and allow each to win. We pass by and we continue on our journey.

S

NEW BLOG STARTED!!!

2009-07-28T08:00:00.000-07:00

Ok, I'm finding some themes emerging in this blog and therefore I am going to start some new blogs. The first is about age and I'm naming it "Aging Ain't for Sissies"!! Look for it soon.

Ageism

2009-07-20T09:26:00.000-07:00

Ageism

age ism

Another cause to get behind

Ageism makes me mad

Any ism makes me mad

Ageism affects me personally.

And when I feel slighted or put down or treated as less than

I get really really angry

Ageism does that

They assume we are weak bow legged slow thinking sweethearts or cranky, opinionated crouches.

I can understand it

I see it too

The half idea growing as I watch others who are old

MORE ABOUT AGING

2009-07-20T09:04:00.000-07:00

OK, OK, OK, I've been writing furiously into my blackberry and some on my dektop, but oh, nothing gets organized into the blog or posted. so here's an item to start with since my birthday is next week. Sigh, more on aging. What else??

This Age Thing has been bothering me again lately.

So I took a nice walk up the hill behind my house and allowed my mind and heart to wander amidst the cactus and desert trees.

What I was aware of during this walk was how time and space change our perspective. I was so very grateful for this thought and I’d like to share it with you.

I remembered that as I age, my perspective changes just as my perspective changes as I walk up the hill and view the mountains. Since I’m “moving” in time and space my perspective changes with each moment. My view of the landscape seems to shift just as my perspective about people and life shift as I age.

When I took this walk, no only did the landscape change or look different with every step I took, but I saw new wonders with each step as well. Here a small cholla struggling to attach, there a footprint or a dropping from an animal, a startled bird, the sunlight highlighting a bush or the wind moving the trees.

So it is with life. People, places and things all change as I age. My thoughts about many friends and family have shifted over the years. My intentions, my goals, all that is my life has also changed moment to moment while taking this journey of life.

I think aging is a wild adventure and I intend to relish every moment. Stay the same?? Don’t age? I don’t think so. I decided a long time ago not to hide my age or try to be what I am not. It’s a struggle at times. Our society values youth not age. That’s not what this is about however.

I am coming up against all that “age” stuff again as I turn 69 and look square into the face of 70. But my mountain walk helped and I will meet this new person on my terms as I am as I intended so many years ago.

There will be more on this topic I know. I haven't reconciled that body wearing out thing yet and I haven't completed my discovery of self identity etc either. So stay tuned

I leave this post with a quote from one of my heroes from the “olden days”. Eleanor Roosevelt

“With maturity we grow much more humble, and we know that we have to acknowledge very often things that are not quite perfect.

Because we acknowledge it does not mean we love our [country] ‘self’ any les . . . What it does mean is that we know human nature is not perfect and that we hope that all of us can contribute to something better”

Awakening

2009-04-17T14:50:00.000-07:00

This is a poem I wrote that seemed a bit sci fi "ish" and I like it as I would like to try my hand at sci fi writing. So I will include it here. Comments welcomed.

Early Morning

Gentle rain

Quiet dawn

Stirring ‘round the world

Stirring

Opening

Each at the same time

The same way

The same look

Each small being pulled upright

Walking thinking doing

Food was there

They knew how to eat

How to sleep

How to shit

And they grew

Each at the same rate

They became aware

Of one another

Of self

They cooperated

Busied themselves and grew older together

They copulated

They knew the end was near

Babies were born

All on the same day

And put to sleep the next

Then they waited

Waited for the last long day

It dawned as every day had dawned

They saw the sun

Beautiful

They knew they would not see it again

Then they began their departure

Each at the same time

The same way

With the same feelings of loss and expectation

Until they were all gone

Silence descended on the planet

Then the morning of awakening began anew

Gentle rain

Quiet dawn

Stirring …

Perspectives of Age

2009-04-17T14:35:00.000-07:00

I’m getting ready to visit with some new friends. They are younger than me. I’m aware how nervous I am about meeting them.

It’s this age thing.

So I took a nice walk up the hill behind my house and allowed my mind and heart to wander amidst the cactus and desert trees.

What I was aware of during this walk was how time and space change our perspective. I was so very grateful for this thought and I’d like to share it with you.

When I took this walk, not only did the landscape change or look different with every step I took, I saw new wonders with each step as well. Here a small cholla struggling to attach, there a footprint or a dropping from an animal, a startled bird, the sunlight highlighting a bush or the wind moving the trees.

So it is with life. People, places and things all change as I age. My thoughts about many friends and family have shifted over the years. My intentions, my goals, all that in my life has also changed moment to moment while taking this journey.

I am coming up against all that “age” stuff again as I turn 69 and look square into the face of 70. But my mountain walk helped and I will meet these new friends on my terms, as I am, as I indented so many years ago.

I leave this post with a quote from one of my heroes from the “olden days”.

Eleanor Roosevelt

“With maturity we grow much more humble, and we know that we have to acknowledge very often things that are not quite perfect.

Because we acknowledge it does not mean we love our [country] ‘self’ any less . . . What it does mean is that we know human nature is not perfect and that we hope that all of us can contribute to something better"

Aging

2009-03-30T19:33:00.000-07:00

Aging is like adolescence. We are always changing and very, very different externally from one time to the next. Do we indeed go back in time as we age??

Probably not, but it seems familiar to me. As I age, I am changing in body and mind and even spirit. So it was with adolescence. I neverliked to think of old age as a "second childhood", but now when I really think about it, childhood was pretty cool, so why not old age too? Childhood was staying in the now, being always open to the new and different, happy and joyful each day, exploring, learning, so many things.

Is old age like that? I wonder. I think I will be in the now especially if my mind stays alert and unworried. If so, I believe it is possible. I see myself worrying less and less about "what people think" as I age and I gelieve eventually I will be more and more in the now with each moment.

I think it is more important to look foward to old age than it is to dread it. My body ages and I find more and more things to do to help manuever it through those changes. Time will tell.

Can We Really ever Catch up? Do We Need to?

2009-01-08T18:52:00.000-08:00

So my last post was a month ago and what a month it's been. DECEMBER!!!!! Like that old saying, I say "You don't know it's begun until it's over" Well, December is over and I barely realized it had begun. In fact, my December 1st post was "catching up" So this one is "Can we really ever catch up and do we need to?"

I guess it's easy really. Catch up to what? Like there is something out there living our life's the way it's supposed to be and we have to catch up to that level of perfection.

Catch up to ourselves, maybe?

Perhaps and perhaps not. What I really think we mean when we say we have to catch up is we have to do the things we have not done, say the things that need to be said and bring ourselves current.

Staying Current is a much better alternative to always having to catch up. I often see myself as the little kid with the adults and I have to run to catch up with them because they could walk faster than I. Still, what kid doesn't love to run? I did. So I kept on picking those I saw "beyond" me and ran to catch up.

When it comes down to it, I really don't think we ever need to catch up because where ever we go, whatever we do, there we are. There is no catch up in the now.

Namasta

Catching Up

2008-12-01T13:05:00.000-08:00

I have so many things to catch up on for this blog. It's been a wild and busy ride the last two months! Money reorganizing, personal changes, family matters, of course, the election and the economy have all pulled my attention elsewhere.

Here is a little thing I wrote recently and will include. Soon, I will have some open time to really organize a lot of my more disjointed but "important" thoughts and update my blog again. For now, I had a contemplation about "Prejudice" so here goes.

Prejudice

The first time I felt really discriminated against put a wound deep in my heart. My longing to love and longing to be loved was scarred. It remains so to this day with the exception that each twinge I feel reminds me and encourages me (in a slightly punishing way) of my own prejudices and lack of attention to rooting them out.

It's like walking the walk while talking the talk. I never felt discriminated against as a kid or even as a teenager. Oh, I felt "left out" or "unfairly treated" that sort of thing. But I was a long legged shapely, nice girl from the Midwest, blond and waspy.

My family wasn't rich, but we weren't poor and we could hold our heads up just fine thank you. I know I did. I was always out there. Always showing off. I used to be called a show off and I was called it more than once. So I experienced some conditioning that kept me from feeling fully "ok", but I still didn't feel discriminated against.

Then the hippies came into our world. They were like the gypsies arriving from afar. It must have been like in the middle ages, they began to show up in groups, with colorful dress and different looking hair and jewelry and all sorts of wares to sell.

I was living in California by then. A 25 year old mother of three, married to a producing artist/teacher and I longed to be a hippie. I reasoned that I must think "hippie" first then act like a hippie out of that. It was a choice I took on that in my place in society was somewhat dangerous. No one I knew at the time was doing it. So I spent a long time on the thinking like, part.

I remember it was a major decision when I started wearing "love beads". They were NOT just adornment, but a statement that represented one who values love. It was very cult like when I look back on it now.

I kept my distance from the wild and free hippies by associating with "responsible" hippies, the ones with families and houses and who attended political rallies and had strong opinions about how the world should be. The responsible hippies lived the life, but remained on the right side of the law with the exception of smoking pot and protesting.

It was a day I'd chosen to look for an apartment/house for rent that I received the blatant prejudice. It was time for us to move. My husband and I both knew we could no longer keep out three children in two rooms with mattresses on the floor. They needed more stability and they needed a neighborhood. We were living in our pottery studio, selling ceramics and Mexican goods while my husband taught school during the day and created at night. Not much family time.

So, I peddled a way everyday after my two oldest had gone off the kindergarten and 2nd grade . I put the baby in a special padded basket on the front of my old bike and we'd travel up and down the streets of Huntington Beach looking for For Rent signs.

On this particular day, I set off and on one block saw a man trimming hedges in front of an obviously empty home that was being painted on the inside. Sure enough a For Rent sign was in the front window.

"Hello" I greeted him. "Will this house be for rent soon?"

He didn't stop trimming. I asked again. He looked at me, looked at my beads, looked at my hair in braids and colorful clothes and went right back to his work.

I felt like I'd been slapped and the anger rose up in me. Still, I was young and compliant and had never had to fight for much of anything. "Excuse me!" I asserted. "My husband is teaching school and we are planning to move here, will this be for rent?"

I knew I'd used the referent power on my husband's position to get to him. Of course, I didn't know what referent power was, I only knew he was not going to talk to me because he didn't seem to think I was human. It was indeed the first time I felt treated like a sub-human being and I was aware enough to make note of it. I thought to myself. "This is what colored people feel."

You see, Black is beautiful hadn't even reached my consciousness at that time and the word negroes was a little used term in my family. Colored people was common. We never, never used the "N" word and for that I've been thankful. But I knew it and I'd heard it and I was gentle enough in my soul to know it was not something I would say. I knew I'd been treated as someone not worthy. It hurt so deeply, I've never forgotten it.

So, I left and I didn't rent that particular house. We did find a sweet little two bedroom home that served us well for a couple of years until we finally bought one of our own back near where my husband taught. That's another story as is how I continued to turn into a "responsible and sometimes irresponsible hippie".

Sandy

Disclosure

2008-09-26T23:41:00.000-07:00

I always want to see myself as an open, friendly, available person. In fact, I keep my self closed away behind as many different facades as are people I know.

A chameleon is the often used label. It is common for many to adjust and change according to circumstance. I believe it helps grease the wheels of relationship. BUt as with any kind of grease, it can get slippery.

So, sometimes I disclose too much and sometimes I don't disclosure enough. Such is life.

My last few posts on this blog felt to me like I was disclosing too much. However, I am not apoligizing for this. I believe disclosure is healthy and I also know it can be overdone. So, I'm feeling my way through this life like anyone else. Blind leading the blind!

I'm expecting to bring as much light into the world as possible and I know that cannot be done if I am hiding my light. It is in fact, counter productive to hide and when that need to hide shows up over and over again in one's life, one knows it is time to address it. For me, shining my light has always been one of my gifts. I hold it back in many different ways. Thank you all for bearing with me as I practice my balance!

Blessings

Sandy

The Need to Control (others)

2008-09-17T10:33:00.000-07:00

This has been one of the biggies for me all my life. I can't say I never do it anymore, but I do have a history of confronting the behavior and happily at times being able to just confront the desire. But it never seems to go away.

Is it in fact a part of the human condition to control and we just choose to apply it irresponsibly? As with some other things, I have attempted to use my need for control in positive ways. That seems to diminish the incident of negative or harmful ways I have tried to control others or myself.

Another quick note. The last lines of this discussion brought out the connection between trusting others and the need to control others. So if control is a lack of trust, then exercising allowing is another way of releasing self from the need to control others. (note I'm not advocating releasing self from the need to control. I firmly believe this is a human need that can be used in positive ways).

I attempt to open myself to allowing from time to time and it always feels right, but I can't say I have fully integrated this ability yet. Key word here is YET!

Seeing is believing

2008-09-16T22:00:00.000-07:00

Darn. For years I've heard that saying "seeing is believing" as "show it to me". My mother used to say it when she thought I was lieing. Or if I promised I'd do something she didn't think I could do.

It was right up there with "I'm from Missouri, you gotta show me!"

Tonight, an angel of compassion visited me and I heard "seeing is believing" in a whole new light. The light of love. When we see something it comes into reality. I don't know if we have the choice to see whatever we want, when ever we want it, but I'm checking that out too. I think we do.

I have held the belief that what I "see" in the future is a real view of the future. But, I'm beginning to understand that what I "see" is what I'm creating. It then becomes a matter of shifting one's perspective to see differently if that is needed. At the same time, shifting one's behavior stops the thing in it's tracks. Then all you have to do is behave differently and see differently and change occurs in the new direction. It's simple goal setting really. Everyone was always so surprised when goal setting worked. There was even a management approach named after it. Like it was big news.

Sometimes shifting my perspective or my behavior feels like moving one of those great big telescopes just one degree differently. Slow, but sure.

Life Goes On

2008-09-14T18:37:00.000-07:00

I see in our future, a nation that becomes poorer and poorer in both monetary means and spirit. "Doing poorly," they used to say about someone who had been ill and wasn't quite recovering. Yes, doing poorly.

I would always envision a chakey face, trembling body and dour nature. Not a pretty sight to a young fresh child. Later as I became older I learned what holding a hand can do and I learned to give in ways I'd never known. I saw death in new ways too.

I was always able to imagine something better. I knew change could happen, because I'd been through adolescent and I knew it was possible. Change really does happen as you get older. In fact, it is sometimes the salvation of a stagnent lifestyle. Change for change's sake is something that must be addressed later. This is not that.

I believe we can breathe the life back into our world but simply being who we are. Being "real" and being. It's a tough asignment as I look all around at the death and decay and fear and anger and all that is happening in our external world. Sometimes, I think. I don't have to do this much longer, because 'I'm pretty old already and it's the ones who come after me that will really have to knuckle down and survive'. Or, 'I can kick back and let some of the younger people do it, I've worked hard enough all my life'.

But, then I remember that we are all one and so in a way, it will be me doing it as well. Guess we really are all in the together. Another old saying, I remember for nude or naked was "He was in his altogether" and everyone knew that meant naked. So we are in the altogether, together, I guess.

And as I think on that, it comforts me to know we are just learning and learning is as difficult as we want to make it. Bring on the lessons!!! I'll kick back when I need a break, but always glad to get back in the frey! It's my way of being me. Inquistive,energetic, respectful, and quick. Like a squirrel. Not sure how they are respectful, but I bet they are. Ever see two squirrels meet on a telephone wire, each one going in the opposite direction? It is quite the acrobat show, but somehow they work it out. I think we as individuals are like that at times when we meet others of our own kind. A sort of acrobatic manueering of positions occurs until cooperation leads itself to beauty. Like a dance we sort things out and allow for each to win. We pass by and we continue on our journey.

So if our economy is doing poorly, and the employment rate is low, the banks are failing and there is nothing anyone seems to be able to do about it. Perhaps we are going to be poor for quite a while. At least some of us will be. We will slip into a lower and lower class until we are finally able to face our real selves instead of defining ourselves by what we have. Not a bad place to be. Whatever it takes will be provided. And the struggle against the truth will continue as long as necessary. Truth will out, but has infinite patience. We can take however long we want or need, it doesn't matter. We will still be here because the truth is what matters and we don't matter unless we are true. So, being my true self is a matter (no pun intended, really) of being myself at all times and in all circumstances. Hello!! Why does that seem so scandeosly difficult. Aha, as if I didn't know I was a phoney most of my life. My "true" self has barely enough time to sleep, much less be!!

Yet she is patient. And I continue to seek her solace and advice. This journal is one of the ways I can do that. She tells me over and over to sit silent and attend. I do, but I slip and get bored and my ADD takes over and suddenly I'm in the other room organizing a drawer! Still, the weather is better now, my garden nearly ready for it's Fall splendor and I am itching to get out and do some real work on creating a space to enjoy while I sit on my porch. It helps to have a comfortable and refreshing space in which to sit. Not always though. A walk, a movie, food, these things tend to bring comfort too, yet I know the comfort they bring is not only temporary, but a pale version of the "real" thing. Being real can get you a shit load of comfort. It's designed that way. Nice, huh? So, as in Groundhog Day, one pursues the drug of reality! And nothing seems to work when one tries to create it. It is only by being it that reality occurs and then it is like walking on clouds. We are so fortunate to be alive and to be who we are. It is a gift beyond price. I never was gracious about accepting gifts, greedy would be a better description. But, this gift has often been rejected, abandoned, held down, redirected and eventually disillusioned. Must be one tough truth if I'm so attached to trying to destroy it. If I have a gift, and I do because we all do (logic) and I don't use it, the world won't end. It may do more poorly, but it won't end. Just limp along sick and poor and unable to do for itself. Well, not quite. But it would be greatly enhanced by the gifts I have to contribute. Being able to esteem them would mean being "real" and I have been false so many times, I'm not sure I want to stop. And somehow, I know and remember that it all doesn't matter one way or the other, it all is unfolding as it should. And my fear arises. What if I get caught in the downdraft of the fall of our nation and our world. And I know I will do what needs to be done when it needs to be done and that's no different than now, so what do I have to be afraid of? A little work? I'm already doing that! I think I've seen too many holocaust movies and news casts of families torn apart by ware and subjegation. I want it to end. Naturally. We all do. It is not a matter of time, it is a matter of when. It will end, it will change, it will become something else some where else. And it may take many, many, many years to do that as it has in the past. Or it may happen in an instant. That's the exciting thing. personally, I like the idea of it happening in an instant, but then, I always tore the bandaid off with one quick jerk!!! So, in the meantime, I do what I can when I can do it. Over and over an over. Knowing I will contibute and I take away. It's a dog eat dog world. And we've been here a long time and I don't see us leaving anytime soon unless something better comes along. i think this is it. It's up to us to raise our consciousness in order to partake of that which we call God. My higher self knows the taste, but I don't always agree. I still try sugar and alcohol and other substances to change my consciousness. I am afraid to mediate. I am afraid to stop my stories and my phony presence. I want to bring myself to these events with ease and grace. I do not want to live seperate from most of society, no matter how different or disgusting they may seem. I will attend to being who I am in every setting and if I limit myself to my house, and yard and local haunts, I am not becoming an easy participant in life. There is life everywhere, though it may appear asleep. It exists. You can feel it as you get out of your car and see the family going to the movies. You can see it in a sunset around a city, never does nature seem to bow down to monopolis', but rather they are diminish by it's grandeur. If only for a second.

Life goes on.

S

It's never a good time

2008-09-13T11:31:00.000-07:00

It’s never a good time to do any thing. If we waited for a good time to do something we’d never do it.
We’d never have babies if we really knew what was involved.
But, by the time we have the baby, it’s too late
And our lives can never imagine what it would have been like had we not had this miracle, this piece of us.

So, I figure it’s just as good a time as any to do what I want to do when ever I want to do it.
And afterwards, I can never imagine what it would have been like had I not done it at that particular time.

Perhaps there is no time either.
Wow, imagine THAT!!!
NO TIME
Like time doesn’t exist.

Hmmm now where have I heard that before? Time doesn’t exist. Does that mean I don’t exist too?? Probably. In fact, It think I remember something about that too. What is it? Oh yeah, I do not exist.

Boring!

I might as well exist even though I probably don’t. I figure, I can just pretend that I exist and then go about doing what ever I want when ever I want to.

That sounds familiar too. Oh yes, the advice from the 100 year old woman. Her secret to a long life was that she always did what ever she wanted when ever she wanted to. (I have it on good counsel though, that she only could do that the last 40 years of her life. That means it started around 60!) hmmmmm

Playing Big and Showing Up

2008-09-02T07:24:00.000-07:00

I've heard these terms many times. Usually, I heard them yelled at me in a staff meeting or during a therapy group. "PLAY BIG!!" "SHOW UP!". Like a challenge or a demand.

Recently, I eperienced playing big and showing up from a more gentle perspective. I found when "I "do my nearest duty" as Goethe recommends, I am showing up and I am playing big. Because I stretch myself. Like in the prayer of Jabez, I "expand my territory".

When this happens, I have more space to receive and isn't that what abundance is all about?? So Play Big, Show Up for you!!! Do Your nearest duty for you!!! Life is about being not doing. Be You! You will receive as you give.

Ways I "showed up" this week. Helped someone find her car in a parking lot

complimented a grocery store checker

Asked for what I wanted in a restaurant

Sent that email I'd been putting off

Said yes to adventure when it arrived on my doorstep

and the list goes on. Small looking and sounding things, but they all stretch me and in stretching bigger, expanding my territory. I am able to receive the abundance around me. No one can fit more apples in a bushel that is already full. Eat a few apples. Let more come in.

Sandy

Getting Older Redeaux

2008-08-29T10:54:00.001-07:00

I am getting old. Even if I don't feel it internally, I know I am.

I can remember the beginnings of Plastics. Not the line from the Graduate. That line was already funny because it was happening all around us.

I mean I can remember plastics coming to the kitchen sink and the grocery store and to many other experiences.

Memories such as that tell me I'm old. For me, old is when I'm holding memories for the tribe. But no one seems to care about the memories and if they do, they don't have time to savor them or do them justice, much less learn from them.

And I, I tuck them away in a journal or type them into a blog and hope that someone, somewhere, will find them and appreciate them.

A life is lived so swiftly, yet each life is so unique. I sometimes wonder if we aren't all living the same life!!! And so, I watch from the elder stance and still it makes no sense.

I begin to wonder too, is it not supposed to make sense and we are all just wasting our time? Or, does it make no sense because sense is a part of our human experience that is not needed in the next phase of being? I believe we are spirtually-based beings having a human experience and it may be so.

One other belief I carry is that choices drive us in our human experience and all that I am is a result of the choices I have made. All I will be is too.
Yet are those choices a part of our human nature or a part of our spiritual nature? I believe some choices are human, some spirit and some both.

Comments, thought?

Bits and Pieces

2008-08-29T10:36:00.000-07:00

I have been culling out bits and pieces of writings from my journals. Some are one-liners, some include my brand of drawing, more are longer and can be included in my other blogs. But I'm just capturing a few here in this current post. I hope you enjoy the stream of thought.

Where the Monarch reigns all are affected by his will.

Life comes at you fast when you've got your foot on the accelerator!

Attracting what you desire starts with feeling right about yourself. Plenty of time to get it.

Self approval negates self disgust. Teach it. Live with those who know it. Talk about it.

To destroy. To create.

To destroy again.

This is nature's way.

To gladden, to refreshen

reminds us of who we are.

This world is my world

Beyond the hills of time,

I grow impatient for the walk

Wait and See.

Look unto the hills.

You are there right now.

If you want to know your past,

look at your body.

If you want to know the future,

look at your present.

Thanks for listening. More to come as always.

Humility and Submission

2008-08-28T13:59:00.000-07:00

Humility and Submission are oft charged and misunderstood words.

Some years ago, I worked with groups of women assisting them in their "empowerment". It was a big word back then (perhaps it is still) and when, in the course of their self-exploration, the concepts of being humble or heaven forbid submissive, came up, the sparks would fly!!!

Still, there is a very sweet and feminine nature to humility and submission. Not a female nature, but a feminine, yielding, allowing or opening way of being. Little by little most of the women embraced the sweetness of these concepts.

These thoughts came to me recently as I thought of how less controlling and less striving my life has become. I share them here.

I will not beat myself into submission

I submit

I will only do what I know to do

What I don't do -- isn't

and then, this prayer emerged ----

I humble myself before you

I ask your help in all things

I put myself in your hands

My authentic self bows before you

Real food makes real people

2008-07-31T10:43:00.000-07:00

Today I ate figs from my own tree and in doing so, I felt more connected to nature than I have for a long time.

Where I live, I can walk out into nature whenever I want. It is a blessing I’ve received over and over again throughout my life. Always available, always appreciated.

But today, I learned that food grown close to home tastes better, feels better and I'm sure makes my body better. Sounds familiar, wonder why it took me so long to experience that? Farmer's Markets here I come.

Thoughts about Nature

2008-07-31T10:37:00.000-07:00

Over a long time, I have learned that Nature is always available. I used to think I had to seek out Nature, or Nature was not available to me if I lived in a city, without means, depressed, or working too much.

Now I know that One must choose Nature as with anything else in order to receive it.

It is and always has been so

You open to the possibilities
You choose
You receive

Nature, money, relationships, emotions, surroundings, thoughts, material goods, health and of course, Nature. It is all there waiting for you to choose it.

A view of the view

2008-07-31T10:23:00.000-07:00

I like tv. I used to think I was addicted to it and spent months "working" on my addiction. It was true, I felt more energy when I didn't watch it, I got more creative. During that time, I do think I was addicted.

Now, I like to think I can take it or leave it, but that sounds suspiciously like an addict in denial. So, I watch tv and when I do, I sometimes zone out and I sometimes see things in tv that surprise me.

I actually think that we are beginning to view more discreetly by watching tv. I think we can differentate between false and real better by virtue of TV media. Think Nixon/Kennedy debates and the posters "Would you buy a used car from this man?" Thousands of us began to see the falseness glaringly reflected from our tv screens. It's been a process, but I truly believe we are better at seeing truth/hipocracy/make-believe and heart felt expressions. Art imitates life.

When you step back and look at the trends from the past, you can see the progress and direction our world and our selves are taking.As a 68 yo woman, I have seen alot.
I seems to me that only by revisiting the past and readjusting the view by examining attitudes and judgements can one see where one is moving.

One can feel integrity as well as beauty. Occasionally, tv shows one or the other. But when both appear together it is breathtaking and it is a directional marker!!!

I believe our tv programs are not just crap (although some are and I can see those better) but I refuse to clump them all together by virtue of the fact that they are tv. There is truth seeping through everywhere I look and I like the direction it is taking. Have you looked lately??

Everyone Wins

2008-07-31T10:17:00.000-07:00

It’s always been all about Winning for Everyone

Because Everyone Wins

NOT : "WHEN" everyone wins
OR
Everyone wins "IF" . . .

It is and always has been that
EVERYONE WINS
ALWAYS
EVERY TIME
THIS TIME
NOW

A Reflection of the Heart

2008-07-14T00:01:00.000-07:00

There are so many things to see in this world

An infinite number of them

They are there to see whenever and where ever we look

and they are all the same things

. . . a reflection of the heart

Summer Memories

2008-04-26T14:09:00.000-07:00

This blog is entitled thoughts, memories and contemplations. So far I have more thoughts and contemplations than memories. So here goes a memory.

There was nothing quite like the drive-in when I was a kid. The drive-in kept you with your family, but out and amongst strangers too. Going to the drive in in your pj's was my favorite part (besides the popcorn we brought to share front seat parents, back seat kids).

Later, it was a relatively safe place to go with your teenage friends. Everyone looked out for one another and it was a confined space yet it was large enough to feel free from home and school. It was a play pen for teens if you will.

But for me, it was being outdoors on a Summer night, the stars, the breeze, the darkening sky before the movie started. All the lights at the refreshment stand and the noise there with so many people gave life and contrast to the novelty of watching a movie from your car.

It was the thrill of the new technology of it I remember. I felt I was somehow experiencing the future and I could hardly wait until more of it happened.

I still feel that way. I still am longing for a bright shining future filled with technology. I know it's there as I glimpse it in art and music and the poetry of the young. Then, of course, there is the current technology that I only dreamed of 25-30 years ago, and could never even conceive of 50 years ago. I am crazy for technology and want more all the time.

The birth pains that accompany this future are being dulled and put to sleep, I think, for a good reason. Only those who are strong enough to survive this transition will. Only those the future truly needs will survive this transition. And that is what I fear most. I fear I will not survive the transition. Or, that I will simply fall asleep again and have to wake up all over again.

Questions and Answers: Notes from my true self

2008-03-30T09:40:00.001-07:00

I was at a meeting the other night where the social hour included mingling with many others I didn't know. The typical greeting was the question "What do you do for a living?". Of course, I haven't identified myself with my profession or job or even what I do to earn money for a long time. I patiently explained my "semi-retired" status, dragged out my litiney of past professional accomplishments and felt more and more "icky" as I did so. Finally, the question was asked and I replied as I had so many years ago when I was just starting to find my own true self with "I Live".

That got me to thinking about other chatty questions people sometimes ask as these kinds of things. Like -- "Are you in a relationship with anyone?" My answer to that is "Yes, with everyone!"

Another question that is often asked, especially on those first coffee dates with online dates is "How do you have fun?" I like to think I'd answer "All the time! Everything is fun!"

Of course, that's what I say from my being, from my head and my trained polite social self, I answer appropriately bland and the conversation can turn to other things. People tend to get weird with the truth.

A Reflection on the past from the present

2008-03-30T09:35:00.000-07:00

When first I came to Illinois after living in California, I began to use Chicago as a template to building a new life. I lived in the 'burbs, trying to raise children within an environmnet that would not be too harsh on them, but I choose to continue my explorations into lifestyle change. Being in the Midwest was different than being in California and I found the city to be the blueprint as well as the challenge for me as a newly-functioning adult in a very crazy world.

It was less than successful, but it was an adventure and I remember fondly the art classes, the parking lessons, the dark alleys and the wonderful streets filled with people in a party mood. I was thrilled to be a part of it all, and then, I would escape all that to perform my mother duties l. I balanced it pretty well, worked to earn enough for food, shelter and clothing, but often little else except love. and fun. We were a torn aprart family that was just getting by. STill there was love and that was of course the saving grace, as always. My daughters taught me to love by the presence of their being. I am grateful for that.

Those years helped me later after my second marriage when I took on the urban lifestyle in earnest. It was 20 years later, but it was easier because I'd had that previous experience and I was boind to build on it. The city was calling me and I was up for the task.

Now, in lazy Arizona, I wonder at it all. The elevators, the streets with trees in tubs and sidewalk cafes filled with people not even paying attention to one another, much less me. All that is treasured. All that is good. And this too will be "good" when I view it again in ten or twenty years. Such is life. The making of memories.

Three Poems that may or may not belong together

2008-03-15T05:36:00.000-07:00

These poems are three I choose at random early in the a.m. hours. One was written in 1994, one in 2007 and one just last month. Why these three are together, is not mine to say, I simply post them here for you to read. Blessings

>> I have a cry within that screams and streams>> muffled by the numbness of my mind.>>>> At night it comes to me>> In the silence of the house when I am all alone>>>> Beginning as a whisper, reflected in the memories of> the day>> It's insistent voice is heard.>>>> There's something wrong, something's wrong.>>>> Another being is trying to get my attention>> to show it's face,>> to breathe a breath>>>> The things we see are never what we think>> What we think is never what we see>>> --

LIKE A WOMAN

YOU CANNOT RUSH A SUNRISE

. . . LIKE A WOMAN

SHE CAN'T BE RUSHED

IT TAKES TIME TO TURN THE NIGHT TO DAY

A CEREMONY

A SUBTLE TRANSFORMATION

SOMETIMES TEASING, SQUEEZING OUT EACH MOMENT

BARELY PERCEPTABLE
UNTIL A BREEZE AWAKENS SENSES AND THE LIGHT APPEARS

.. . .LIKE A WOMAN

WARM AND GLOWING
FLUSHED WITH COLOR
ANTICIPATORY
FLIRTING
SPREADING OUT

AN EVER CHANGING CENTER
GLOWING HOT AND STRONG

REACHING
WANTING
DANCING
LIGHTENING
AWAKENING

GIVING SIMPLE SIGNALS
I AM HERE
AWAKE
ARISE
A NEW MOMENT HAS ARRIVED

LIKE A WOMAN WITH HER LOVER
SPREADING MORE
KNOWING EVERY NOOK AND CRANNY OF THE SKY

DISPELLING DARKNESS
TURNING MAGIC INTO LIGHT

THEN LIKE AN ORGASM
THE SUN APPEARS

AS PROMISED . . .
AS HOPED FOR . . .

COMPLETE

BEGINS ANOTHER DAY

Commitment

We are caught on the edge of a swirl

Things rush by us

Never to land and always moving

We are pushed to stay where we are
or to relax and fall into a stupor

Commitment means letting go of all that and trusting!

I have a commitment where once there was a void
I built it with broken dreams,
and broken promises
and wishful thinking
and many other things.

One by one as my commitment grew,
the broken things fell by the wayside
and now, they no longer exist

But Commitment Does!

TRUST!!

A Little More About Committment

2008-02-25T09:53:00.000-08:00

This probably belongs in my "Knowitwhenyouseeit" blog, but the boundaries blur, so here it is and I'll put it in there too.

When I'm not totally sure what I'm looking for in life, I never ever find it.

Furniture
Men
Lifestyle
Health
Future
It's a simple thing to commit. Doing it is what is hard
I resist
I turn away
I ignore
and, I rationalize in order NOT to commit
Still, nothing has come to me except when I do commit
Yet, do I not.

Atmospheres far and near

2008-02-21T10:26:00.000-08:00

A big subject I know and I do not pretend to be an expert or even a well-versed environmentalist. I just have some thoughts. Here they are:

If we have a hole in the ozone layer or if it is thinning, we are burning away. It could be looked at as a metaphor--- a burning away that creates change as the world heats up.

I have created an atmosphere around me just as we do on our planet. As I age, life's events serve to "burn away much of that atmosphere. It's as though I'm losing parts of my former self as I age.

First it was my youth and then my children, then my career faded away as the years have gone by. Eventually nearly all my persona thins like the hair on my body. Losing the personality becomes a choice. At least for now. I still choose to keep the personality of a loving, caring person and I will let go of that too as I age further.

How I am seen is not always how I want to be seen. So as I thin my atmosphere, as the clouds no longer obscure, I can been seen more and more for who I truly am.
And when I am, I rejoice.

What is left when all these coverings fall away? I think it is the true self which is in all of us. Perhaps it is the same for the planet. Perhaps our true planet is yet to be discovered. Perhaps the ozone layer thinning is like the planets natural way to create anew.

I believe that once we reveal our true selves we recognize each other just as a thirsty man recognizes water in a desert.

Then it matters not the coverings you wear, as you are always safe and no longer need to protect the self.
This can truly be the end of war amongst mankind!!!

Commitment - A Poem

2008-02-21T10:09:00.000-08:00

I told you I was writing alot, but not posting. This poem may have appeared elsewhere as it was marked completed in my journal. But I suspect, it was simply filed away. So I share it here with you.

Commitment

We are caught on the edge of a swirl

Things rush by us

Never to land and always moving

We are pushed to stay where we are

or to relax and fall into a stupor

Commitment means letting go of all that and trusting!

I have a commitment where once there was a void

I built it with broken dreams,

and broken promises

and wishful thinking

and many other things.

One by one as my commitment grew,

the broken things fell by the wayside

and now, they no longer exist

But Commitment Does!

TRUST!!

More on Male Female

2008-02-21T09:54:00.000-08:00

Perhaps, I haven't written in this blog about male/female but it has been a continuing conversation in my life for a very, very long time. So here are some thoughts I had about it once more.

It's been said that women use sex to get intimacy and men use intimacy to get sex.

Everyone laughs when they hear this one because it sounds like each person is "screwing" the other to get what they want. It's really a perfect description of a prostituted.

But when viewed from a wider perspective, it becomes clear that BOTH men and women need sex and intimacy. They just have different ways of getting it and it happens to work out. In this manner, the two most opposite natures within the same species become one

As is mentioned in the Baha'i Faith :

"The male and female are like the two wings of a bird and when
both wings are reinforced with the same impulse the bird of humanity will be
enabled to soar heaven-ward to the summit of progress."
Therefore, it seems to me that our differences are simply the same as that which is opposite to us.

What Do I Do With All This??

2008-02-21T09:50:00.000-08:00

I often ask the question of "So What?" And frequently, the answer comes after I try and make sense of things like:

What Can I Do?
Should I keep it?
Should I use parts of it?
Should I continue to create more?
Should I share it with others?

Often the answer comes loud and clear

no, not should

BE what you want

Whatever you want, you just have to want it

Working With Energy

2008-02-21T09:37:00.000-08:00

I've had an enourmous amount of energy all my life. Most of the time I've channeled it into building a lifestyle, family and career.

But my energy is unbounded and yet my body isn't. So I am adjusting my body to better channel this energy. The direction of energy is less outward directed and more inward directed as I mature in life.

My normal approach is to want my energy to do my will which seldom ever works. Then, I turn my will over to God (as I know God), often with much reluctance but with constant faith. My faith holds the energy steady so "God" can do the work. I know there will be a time when I receive the result of this faith.

If my body is out of adjustment, God's energy cannot flow or when it does, the body can be damaged. So an adjustment must occur. This adjustment is not to grow more energy or to use energy to change oneself. This adjustment is made to maintain balance.

An unbalanced life turns into a spiral. It has a vortex or a wobbly vibration that spins off to other worlds, to other realities. When energy is well balanced, there is room for everything. There is room for Love.

There is no conditionality with Love.
Consequences occur with or without Love.
Love knows all conditions
All is Love and Love is all we need

I am beginning to balance my nutrition and all else will follow -- is following.

A New Start

2008-02-21T09:32:00.000-08:00

From October until now, there can only be the thought that time FLIES!!!!

I heard a woman speak yesterday who affirmed that indeed we are all experiencing a "speed-up" in time perception. She said studies have shown that the more information we process, the faster time seems to pass. This is true even of young people who are notoriously known for "Endless Summers and Eternal Winters" (my words).

I know that I stopped writing in this blog at a time I felt I was "channeling" some information. It frightened me at a deep level, remembering former times of out of control thought and manic behaviors that got me in trouble many, many years ago.

I know I am not that person now. I know my thoughts are not so unusual as they onced seemed, but my body seems to have an emotional memory of danger whenever I get close to these kinds of ideas. So I stopped for awhile posting, but NOT writing. What follows are a few thoughts, memories, contemplations, etc. I wrote during this non-posting time. I hope you enjoy them.

Sandy

Pretty Girls

2007-10-04T09:35:00.000-07:00

I wrote this some time ago but ran across it and thought I'd add it in. As I've just been through my Mother's funeral and feel she is put to rest, I remember how she would say "I don't understand why someone so pretty could be so _____(whatever it was she didn't like about me at the time)___." So I have put that message to rest with this as well. Enjoy.

As a “pretty girl” I was always aware of the girls who were “not so pretty”. When I was young, I saw most girls that way. Either they were pretty, or they were not so pretty. Then there were the really, really unattractive girls and they were in a category all by themselves.

Now, as an adult, I see the narrowness of my patterned thinking about what was pretty and what was not. Now,I see that youth is pretty. There is no doubt. Almost all children look beautiful to me now. If a child is unhappy, or hurt or otherwise impaired, they may appear unattractive, but by the sheer nature of their youth the young are all pretty.

As I aged, matured, and grew, I discovered that many girls I had not considered pretty grew into real beauties. This phenomena set me to wondering. What might that say about me? Was there a rule here? Do the young and pretty become old and ugly and the young and not so pretty become old and beautiful?

I discovered it was not quite that simple. But sometimes I felt the discrepancy between myself and others as less from a “better than” position and more from a “how did that happen?” position. Because this conditioning of “being pretty” was strong., it held all the mastery of an addiction and it was well beyond my conscious mind.

Today, I do a jig jog with my attitude from time to time. Recently I stayed in a woman’s house who is of the “not so pretty” variety. Her wedding portrait hangs in the bedroom, a young, pleasing-looking, but definitely plain girl who blooms under the bridal veil. Her bathroom is filled with jewelry, lotions, makeup and other “beauty” tools. My old brain says “Why doe she even try, she’ll never be attractive.” It’s like seeing a monkey wear people’s clothing. But my new brain knows better.

I stop the thoughts, I turn aside, I allow my own humility to soften my attitude and I proceed to look at my own face in the mirror. I am just me. I am no better or worse than she. Not so “pretty” anymore, but also not so empty and not so superficial either. We are each who we are.

I carry a box inside myself where I hold attitudes about people of color, Jews, the poor, the homeless the ignorant and all those “not so pretty” girls. I call it my black box of bigotry.

It exists with the top is open. I can see inside and view all the beliefs, thoughts and feelings I have embedded into my psyche. They never die; they never go away. They are very much alive, but they are boxed in this box. I do growl at them from time to time. “Stay in your place”, I command. “Do not come out and run my life again.”

I’m not proud of the contents of this box. For many years, I put an imaginary lid on it thinking they would not be seen by me or any other. I was wrong, the bigotry laughed and played through my life as surely as if there were no sides on the box or corners to hide in. I’ve put the sides back on the box now, Most days, I think I’ve come to terms with my bigotry and some days I still have to growl.. “Stay put”.

All Ways

2007-10-03T22:27:00.000-07:00

So following on the heels of that last poem, this one was written. (This blog is ordered with most recent first, so if you want to read the entry just before this one, you will know what I mean). It's also somewhat related to the entry on "not being good enough". (See blog after the one after this).

ALL WAYS

I am the way the truth and the light

Now why would Christ say that if it wasn't true?

Because it is.

He didn't say I am the only way, the only truth, The only light.

He said it because he is.

He didn't say I am the only only.
and he didn't say only through me you will find everlasting life. He merely said through me you will find everlasting life.

When you know yourself
you know what and who you are

completely

without question

and who and what you are is always good.

All Ways

Alive

2007-10-03T22:22:00.000-07:00

I recently found a letter I had written my Mother many years ago. It included snippets of poems from a time I was just beginning to allow myself to want to write, never mind actually write . But those little lines were in fact as much me as the following "poem". I still write the same whether short or long. Here it is then, my most recent attempt to figure out this thing called Being Alive.

Being Alive

When I am happy, I know I'm alive
When I am sad, I know I am alive

I know I am alive when I feel

I know I am alive
When I think I am

I know I am alive always

All Ways

No Way is the wrong way.
I am alive and so are you
Take whatever way you want

It will be your way

some say I won't , most say I do.

2007-09-21T20:45:00.000-07:00

Some say I won't , Most say I do.

I have always felt "not good enough" as my first reaction to anything. I think it is the same for many of us. The panic of our parents was often the medium that injected us with this toxin.

When I approach this aspect in me, I continue to learn from it. It seems to be operating for a very strong purpose. Finding out what that purpose is has been one of my many journeys.

Until recently, I've thought the "not good enough" conversation was there as a punishment or a curse. More and more, I am seeing it as a tape. But as in "Mission Impossible" the tape is a message. I almost feel like a spy trying to crack the code!!

Perhaps I will.

I know this. I have had to find the truth in the coded/message "not good enough". When I examine it, I find it has fallen way short. There is little truth in it at all.

In fact, I would venture to say it is entirely false. That means I am good enough.

So my life has been built on a false premise that I am not good enough. Since I have discovered the true premise, I dodge and avoid that old thought as much as I can. It's hard, because I believe it so strongly. I want it to be true.

When I tell the truth, I know that I want to think that goodness is unattainable. If I think that, I do not have to look at how good I am. It's a vicious circle and as I've always said the only way out of a revolving door is to step out of it. I learned that in the city, but it's applicable anywhere.

I step out of the "not good enough" conversation when I begin to hear it. At least most of the time. When I don't, I have friends who can help me remember that I am good enough. I have many times seen that I am good enough but I forget sometimes. So, when I can, I act accordingly. When I can't, it helps to have friends who remind me of it.

So, I'm good enough. And the old conversation looks more and more ridiculous every time it shows up. Very, outdated and very worn.

Thoughts I've had

2007-09-14T07:35:00.000-07:00

These are some random thoughts I found in one of my journals. This is exactly what I want this blog to contain. What it all means and how it fits with anything else seems to be one of those "points in the future". Read further and you will see what I mean.

I have felt pathetic when I think I am all by myself. When I experienced what I considered to be failure after failure, I began to define myself as a failure. Then, I learned I could define myself any way I wanted and I didn't want to define myself any more.

It's just like "Faith can move mountains, but when you have that much faith, you don't want to more the mountain anymore".

Or, similar to "Once you know the worst case scenario, nothing stands in your way and you are free".

As you have always been, you are a grain of sand that creates mountains.

Thoughts about Points:

It's simple to gain points in this world.

Points are the only things that are real. If it isn't real, it isn't a point. You will know the point when you see it. It can also be a turningpoint and then judge and jury will be called forth. We've been practicing all our lives for these turning points.

They allow us to recognise and declare our purpose. We clarify purpose at turning points.

When we go to sleep all hell breaks loose. Then we have to stay on our toes every second.

I'm not sure what defining self, grains of sand and faith have to do with points, but they seemed to be important to me when I wrote them, so I include them here.

THE SILK JOURNEY

2007-09-14T07:27:00.000-07:00

I've been thinking about my process of writing. Currently, my writing is sporatic, still dependent on inspiration or contemplation. But more and more as I pick up my journals or laptop or a scrap of paper to write, I find the words are there and they can be captured. I call this process "The Silk Journey".

The silk journey begins as with any other journey,
with a single step.

This step never ends and has no beginning.
This step exists as the silk journey.

It is always the same and it is always changing.

The Silk journey is always moving.
It is the dance of life.
There is only the dance.
As it waves and turns, it dips between time and space.

Each dip contains another taste of the ocean,
another view of the sky.

How My Mother Cared For Her Body

2007-07-31T07:36:00.000-07:00

My Mother died of cancer. Her death and how she chose it will be another entry in this blog. For now, I am reflecting on caring for one's body. - sm

I have often thought that cancer is a dis-ease and a product of fear. My mother had both. She was often ill at ease in many settings. She held fear like a sword and kept it as her constant companion. It’s been said that the definition of courage is taking action in the face of fear. I know my mother held fear close to her, yet she behaved in many strong and courageous ways. And, she had cancer.

She cared for her body as she cared for her children. She cleaned it, she feed it, and she pleasured it. She did not seem to always love it, however. In a similar way, I often thought she didn't love my sister and I either. Now, after her death, I know that she deeply loved her children. I can now see that she did not always know how to show that love or if she did, she did not know how to show it so it would be seen. Still the love existed and I am a product of it.

I do think she did not love her body. She may have respected it, appreciated it and certainly used it well. But,she did not complete that task of learning to love it. So, I will pick up the banner of loving my own body for her. This I do because I know that where she is, she has no need of her body, nor any need to finish her work of loving it. I promise to pick up her banner and learn to love my body in ways my mother never did.

My Grandmother’s Old China Cabinet

2007-07-31T07:33:00.000-07:00

To Combine The Old With The New Creates A New Life - sm

My Grandmother on my Father’s side was Swedish. Her name was Jennie and she came to America from Sweden when she was only 17. The cabinet stood in a corner of her house and I remember it from over 60 years ago. I will keep her cabinet and I will not forget her. It reminds me of a time before and I will fill it and use it as a time of now. I will keep it alive the way a person keeps a plant alive. My Mother filled it with crystal and silver and glass and treasures of her liking. I will not fill the cabinet with hoarded treasure. I will put new things in it. I will use it to hold things that reflect the present, not the past. In that way, I will continue to honor my Grandmother’s spirit. She had the adventure of the new. And I will fill it with beautiful things too. The treasuring of the beautiful is a good combination of my grandmother, my mother and my self.

Carrying On for Mother

2007-07-31T07:23:00.000-07:00

When on chooses one can take on whatever one chooses. –sm

Taking up a fallen banner has always been seen as courageous, as only the courageous did it. Some people are in sorter supply of courage than others. For them, other tasks are taken up. This is as it should be for without diversity there cannot be unity. But the courageous will pick up banners if needed.

And so, I wonder at and ponder upon exactly what of my mother’s banners I want to pick up and continue. The clues may be in the things I have saved or valued from her house. I have spent the last month since her death, slowly sorting through several drawers, shelves, closets and boxes.

But what of my mother will I keep alive? Again comes the answer, “Look to your choices”. What we choose is what we get. What we choose is what we value. Therefore by choosing more and more we add more and more value.

I have chosen practical items from my mother’s home. A couch, a table, a cabinet, her tv. From these practical items I continue the banner my mother carried of realistic thinking, no-nonsense doing and her matter-of-fact way of making everything useful.

I have made a few choices out of purely monetary reasons. Those choices, keep my mother’s banner alive that was fair and honest, reasonable, prudent and strategic in things pertaining to money.

And, I have chosen symbolic items too. There is an ironwood turtle, a wooden replica of an African head from 300 A.D. some simple jewelry, items that represent our family past. The turtle seems to represent the solid nature of my mother. The beauty and polish of the wood, like the soft finish of her fine furniture is a small piece that represents the desire she had for beauty and quality of workmanship. The African head is still a mystery to me. How she came by it, what it meant to her, why she kept it, is something I may never know. Perhaps a dead relative left it to her. Perhaps she bought it in a frivolous act of spending. I didn’t ever see it in her home; I found it hidden away in a drawer. Was it her dark side? I like to think it was the primitive, wild part of her she never expressed, but always desired. Whatever it was to her, I keep it in remembrance of the mystery my mother was and continues to be for me. The banner of mystery is every woman’s banner. I like to think that my mother’s banner of mystery is from the deepest parts of her nature. The very beginning of mankind.

So I choose to not only remember my mother’s ways of practicality, her love of fine beauty, her ways of fairness, and her mystery, but I will keep those banners flying in my own life.

I do not choose to be the same person my mother was. Whatever qualities, I possess I know them to be mine. My ways are not her ways, but her ways can also be my ways if I choose them and I do choose those that serve me.

I have felt the shock of my own mortality through my mother’s death. I believe that facing one’s mortality is the task of old age. It is kept from the young by a fog of forgetfulness. When one ages one begins to awake to a new reality. This awakening can occur prior to aging in which case the person has longer to prepare for death. But it does always come. Perhaps Alzheimer’s is a self-imposed slumber when the shock of mortality is too great. As I awaken to my mortality, I appreciate the ways of all my ancestors, not just my mother. I feel the line of humanity running through my body and I welcome the time when I depart this world and enter the next.

Then others, my children, my friends, my readers can take up my fallen banners if they so choose.

Living the Legacy

2007-07-17T00:59:00.000-07:00

This is a continuation of the next previous blog.

Now I turn more and more to my own grandchildren. To them am I Goldie?? I ask myself. Not really, comes the answer. To them you are Grandma Jo and there will be stories about you like there were stories about Goldie. Your sister will tell them, your friends, your children and your old lovers. Each tale will display another aspect of yourself. It’s seems we all create our own reality after all.

So,no I am not Goldie to my grandchildren. Sometimes I don't even remember Goldie yet she died when I was a teenager and I'd known her all my life. And then I found the picture. It was of Goldie and my sister Sherry and me. Sherry is holding our cat, kitty.I place the time shortly after we had moved from Illinois to Iowa. So I was probably in my seventh Summer and Sherry in her 10th or 11th. The left side was torn off as if to eliminate someone else in the photo. My mother perhaps? I don’t remember the picture much less seeing it entact. My sister and I both look a little wild, like our hair hadn’t been combed and our dresses were shabby. My grandmother, Goldie is standing behind and to the left of us, her right arm protectively surrounding me while her right hand rests on my shoulder. Sherry stands alone and to the right. Our first home in Iowa stands behind our tableau taking up the majority of the picture, as if the photographer wanted to get a two for one shot. The kids and the house. My suspicion about the missing person being my mother holds up, especially if it was not a flattering picture, She would have wanted the images of Goldie and the girls but not an unflattering one of herself. She may have torn herself out of the picture. How unlike my mother!

And then the shadow of the photographer is seen. Is it my Father or is it my Mother? Perhaps a neighbor or Goldie’s husband Wesley. There is no way to know. The moment, like the photograph, has been lost in time. Yet my mother kept it tucked behind a small toothpick holder above her kitchen sink. For how long? Was it just recently put there, or did she keep it like a tailsman and move it from home to home? I suspect it has been in this house for some time.

My imagination tells me she missed that period in her life. She missed her daughters as little girls as all mothers do. She had a small rememberance of that time in this tiny little picture. Her Mother coming to visit her grown up daughter who was, nonetheless, the baby of the family. Her Mother, Goldie drove all the way from Illinois to Iowa to visit her youngest daughter and her family. It was an effort of love and I remember the visit only slightly. I think I remember more that they came, or I see them driving away and that’s all. Where did they sleep? How long did they stay? Who cooked and what went on in the kitchen? All of these questions are unanswered in my mind. But I can imagine some of it now that I too am a Grandma and visit my daughers from time to time.

There is a bond that grows between mother and daughter from the moment of birth until the moment of death. Ask any woman, no matter what age, about the birth of their child or children and you will hear a very detailed story. The rememberance of the pain may have subsided, the significance of the event never does. I did not know of this bond when my mother was alive as well as I do now that she is dead. I do intend to continue to strengthn the bond between each of my own daughters and especially between me and my grandchildren. It seems like a fun thing to do. And I’m excited to see how it will work out. I love a challenge!

A Living Legacy

2007-07-07T08:47:00.000-07:00

After my mother died (now just two weeks ago), I have had many thoughts, memories and contemplations. I will share some here and more later as they develop. This is the biginning of some thoughts about Mother's and Daughters:A Living Legacy

I saw my Mother's Mother frequently prior to her death and even though I was only 16 and not present at her passing, it effected me strongly nonetheless. At least, for about two days and then my attention shifted back to clothes and looking good and how much I hated family gatherings. Such was youth.

Now, in the wake of my own Mother's death, I see how she continued on after her Mother on her own terms, on her own path and with determination and purpose. I always had thought she just carried on in place of her Mother, Goldie. But no one could have done that. Goldie was unique. I can see that my mother, Lorene, too was unique. I can not carry on for her any more than my mother could carry on for Goldie. Lorene was not Goldie anymore than I am Lorene. Also, my Mother's Mother was younger than I am now when she died and of course, my own Mother younger yet. So in many different ways, Lorene's life has not been my life.

Still, the strain of Goldie lived through my Mother, I saw it many times and she keep Goldie alive in a variety of ways with stories and habits and even expressions. Of course Goldie lives through me as well. I can take up the family strain and pass it on as best I can. Or I can choose to let it go. In this way, I modify and strengthen my own personal strain and add it to the mix along with Goldie and Lorene and God knows who else. And he does! Because in the long run, it is everyone. We all carry on the strain of humanity. We can't not do that, but we can choose what to add and what to subtract from the strain. Unless of course, we are so asleep me cannot think for ourselves. And then the choice will be made for us.

Is this then a Living Legacy? And if so, what legacy do I want to live on? My mother left a monetary legacy, it was her desire and wish to do that and she did. It may not be my desire, but I will leave a legacy nonetheless and so will each and every other person. today it is sometimes described as our footprint. I think it describes it well and I am hopeful for the future.

In this way, we are all a living Legacy

Finding The Past Creating the Future

2007-06-21T07:34:00.000-07:00

Have you ever run across an old letter, poem or notes you wrote years ago? For me, it always seems like my own voice reaching out to my future me, (my now me) with an intention, a lament, an important point to remember when I find such a message.

Today, I rediscovered a poem written so long ago, so many years ago and so much pain ago. I am experiencing current pain and this poem reminded me of the point at which I rose from that past pain to create my present future. Here it is, written (I think) about 1969:

New Year's Resolution

This year I'm going to make my own mistakes

I'm all through with researching the facts in my library of friends.

I'm finished with mapping out the strategy to travel the Forrest of other people's feelings

This year it's sink or swim, dog paddle or float.

It's going to be my stroke and my decision it will be all mine

This year it's me -- like it or lump it.

I was 29 in 1969 and "finding" myself. Still ahead lay some years of struggle and conquest, fear and courage. But at that point, this intention served me long into this future time.

At present, I'm again struggling to stay centered in my own purpose, in my own authority, in ways that let in support and stave off victimhood. The struggle is less desperate, simply another confrontation and growth. Like the plant that must move and push to grow toward the sun, I am reaching out to myself, to others and to my next future self.

At a similar, but later point I wrote this little line:

Allow, Allow, Allow

My present future vow

I remember what a big deal it was to me to think that in the future I would live up to that vow. I have learned to Allow, I don't always do it until the pressures of my own doing remind me to let go and let God. Allow.

Distancing and Homeland Security

2007-06-14T09:34:00.000-07:00

I continue to browse My Documents for worthy entries to this blog. I liked this when I read it and am happy to present it to you, my readers.

Distancing is a perfectly natural way of protecting one’s self from harm. How else do you get out of the way of the slings and arrows of the enemy?

Distance: Move to a place they can not get to you or if they do, they are infrequent enough your wounds are healed and you can sustain another later.

It is the same as with the hurts of the psychological self as with the physical self

When we distance, however, from psychological hurts, we are not protecting ourselves but harming ourselves.

Here is the reason.

Relationship with others needs to be close enough to sustain a wound and strong enough not to receive one.

Let me put that another way.

Do you remember the old rhyme. “Sticks and Stones may break my bones; but names will never hurt me?” As a child, I chanted that from across a dirt road at the “rival” bunch of kids who were throwing clods of dirt at me. “A clod fight” we called it and every neighborhood kid, but the very meek engaged in it.

When I was old enough to really have my feelings hurt by what someone said, I found that “names” did hurt me. I was not protected properly from those particular slings and arrows. So I thought the old rhyme was false. After all, I was hurt by what my friend said, or my teacher or frequently, my mother.

So what did I do? I did the same thing I’d done in clod fights. I’d sling back and when or if that didn’t work, I’d retreat, fall back to a safe distance. Lick my wounds.

So you see, our physical lessons frequently transfer to our psychological lessons. In the case of a child who may be hurt physically, distancing from a parent, friend or teacher is always a good idea. For a child who is being psychologically, emotionally or otherwise mind impaired, they too can benefit from distancing, but without the proper training to protect oneself, the child may distance from everyone and everything their entire life. Never fully engaging in relationship or friendship, they remain lost within a self that was never nurtured fully to maturity.

The old sticks and stones rhyme is true. Names can never hurt someone who is secure in their own self. The job then, for us and for our children, is to build that security from within our selves. I call it true Homeland Security.

Homeland security is more than border patrol. Homeland security means we are free to pursue whatever we truly want. Knowing what we want is essential.

Knowing what we want is a psychological maturity that was never nurtured in many individuals. Frequently it was confused with the numbing processes of overindulgence, lack of choices or authority rule.

The best way to develop a sense of what you want is to provide choices. If a person has already reached maturity without the ability to know what they want, choices can be an overwhelming task.

When I was on a management track at a large corporation, it became clearly apparent that I was lacking in what was then called “decision making skills”. Fortunately for me, I had a manager at that time that was
a) a woman
b) a former nun
c) willing to mentor me
She and I set about “teaching” me to make decisions. I set up grids, I analyzed criteria, I went to a time management seminar and always, I reported back to my manager for clarity and for new challenges.

My manger was an exceptional person. She gave me everything she knew about making decisions, and included me in the ones she was making for the company. She kept a very clear demarcation between decisions I could participate in and decisions she alone could make. I was taught well by this, even though I was sometimes angry that I could not be included in everything.

Too many families in our culture have followed the rule of thumb that “what you don’t know won’t hurt you”. Thereby, falsely assuming their children were “protected from harm”.

Homeland security means the home is secure. The parents are partners. The children are learners. The environment is stimulating with enough risk that success with effort can be experienced. Homeland security is protection with respect for the individual.

When we are with another person who has proven to be hurtful to us in the past , distancing can be effective. But true security means we can be with that person and not be hurt. How does this happen?

I will leave that to another entry. This is enough for now.

Discussion of failure and how it applies to relationships

2007-05-30T08:55:00.000-07:00

I don't know if I wrote this or not. It was sitting in my My Documents file and I thought it had a place on my blog. So apologies to who ever did write it if it wasn't me. And if it was, then I am sharing this as my own.

In weight training, failure is a good thing. Failure means you've worked so hard that your body is saying, "Enough already! I give!" It means you haven't lost control - you're not in danger of injuring yourself - but if you don't stop now, you might be overdoing it.I like thinking of failure that way. I wonder how our lives might be different if we thought about impending collapses as signals that we're working to the point of failure - the place of needing rest and respite. What if we were to simply stop, pat ourselves on the back for doing our best, and take a break, instead of judging ourselves or pushing to the point of injury?

In relationship, of course many don't push those limits of failure. I haven't always done so either. But I like the idea of it and have in the past pushed the limits and many times have failed in relationship to the point of loss. I have also suceeded to the point of growth. There is, of course the old saying from Edison "I haven't failed a thousand times, I've found a thousand things that do not work". I'm paraphrasing, but you get the idea.

I have always heard that there is not enough time in one life to do all that there is to do or learn all that there is to learn. This has always been a given for me. Since I embrace infinity as natural and a part of my being, time to do has a different meaning to me than to many people. I now do what I want, when I want. At least I think I do until I find I've failed at that too.

Relationship with self is included in any relationship discussion and in my mind, I believe relationship with self drives all other relationships. When I am clear with myself, when I treat myself fairly, love myself, entertain myself, create myself in all ways new, I do so with every other relationship I have to the extent I can open to that "other" person.

Many thoughts are guided by my present moment. I am writing this as close to the now as possible. Soon, I will publish this post and then go about the rest of my day with the activities and chores of my choosing. Adios.

Thoughts, Feelings and The Now

2007-05-28T06:04:00.000-07:00

It seems to me that thoughts exisit in space, not in time. In time thoughts fade away since time is nonexistent and thoughts cannot exist there. Thoughts live in space. They become reality.

Feelings live in time where there is no time. Feelings live in the now. Holding on to a feeling is like holding on to a mist. They exist in the now, they are sensed at the edges of the past and future, but cannot be held there. Fleetingly, they evade our grasp.

Until we allow the brush of time's feather we will never enter the now. In the now, the dance of life displays itself. Love fills the now as only one infinity can fill another. Love is always present. Love will find you there.

thoughts about anger

2007-05-09T09:05:00.000-07:00

I was shocked (shocked, I say) when someone said I was filled with unexpressed anger. Me? Nice me? This was, of course, many years ago, but I still remember the shock and amazement and the taste of denial in my mouth when he told me that. Then I began to study emotions, I learned about something called passive-agressive behavior. It was hard to keep the concept straight in my mind and that is and always has been a signal to me, that I need to learn more. At first, of course, it was simply a challenge. Why couldn't I remember those things about passive agressive behavior and misdirected anger. It sounded simple when it was explained to me, yet five minutes later, I couldn't repeat it back. I spent years in therapy on many, many issues, but the passive agressive issue was one of the real "biggies".

Today, I can still see it in others more easily than I see it in me. But thanks to the homework I've done, I can translate that into the knowledge that I too am holding anger and I too can misdirect it passively. Here is where I find myself today. See what you think.

One is dangerous when one is passive with anger.

The more passive one is, the more harm can be done.

Anger not directed finds new targets. ------ every time.

When those around you are harmed, look first to self for the crime because then you truly know not what you do.

You know only discomfort and pain.

To not do
or
Not to do
to
Want.....
Perchance to Dream.

The passive agressive person creates a not doing as a way of feeling the dream of power.

All that is needed is the love of self to release the anger

It is only when the anger is expressed correctly and directed rightly that it releases joy and truth. Then there is room for more love to come in.

A poem I wrote recently that pertains somewhat to this, it's about searching our past

Time traveler

ride

the emotions

backward in time

to refuel

to relive

to realize the past

refresh and relieve

open to the future

the emotions bear the traveler

through

anger, pain, joy, fear, love,sadness

Atmospheres I create

2007-05-02T20:38:00.000-07:00

It's as though I'm losing parts of my self as I age.

First it was my youth and then my children, my career, alot of money and each time I let go of those parts of my persona the better I felt. Personality is a choice. I've chosen several. The one I currently use is one of a loving, caring person who can be depended on. She also has a little adventure in her soul, but she is finding better and better ways of utilizing that particular talent.

As I age further I may let go of those too. How I am seen is not always how I want to be seen. But when I am seen, I rejoice.

What is left when all these coverings fall away is the true Self. The Self that is all of us. And we recognize each other as a thirsty traveler recognizes water in a desert.

It matters not what coverings I wear, I am safe in all ways now and no longer need to protect the Self. This is truly the end of War amongst mankind.

Then, it's a dance of veils and when the last veil drops or we end the dance, we die to dance another dance in other places with others.

Thoughts about God

2007-05-01T06:32:00.001-07:00

I don't have a problem with saying the word God. I always picture a he, sorta like a better version of my own Father. I know it is a construct.

I know there is no "god" like that any more than there ever was a real Zeus. But I use the picture because the real deal always puts me in awe and I don't function very properly when I'm in awe.

Still, as I grow older, I slow and have more time to be in quiet. So I visit "God-the -real-deal" from time to time and when I do, I'm always grateful.

Considering This Blog

2007-04-23T13:22:00.000-07:00

I have been writing like crazy for four years. Maybe five. I've attempted discipline, drugs, groups, hikes, tape recorders, journals, drawings, dreams and even sex.

My writing seems to have a life of it's own and/or I should say a MIND of it's own. Sometimes it's there and sometimes it's not. I still haven't figured out why, when, how or why. The most important thing is that I have accepted the fact that I want to write and I have something so say and it feels good to get it out. So this blog will attempt to gather some old, some new and some crazy and some wonderful thoughts, memories, contemplations and what ever else my writing decides it wants to write.

Come with me on this journey if you dare.

SandyApril 2007