the ultimate F word

Egad!!!  It's taken me a bit to get back on here...satellite service non existent.  So much has happened in this last week, where do I begin?  Hmmm...I do believe I'll hit on a subject that this blog hasn't covered much.  Seems the lessons learned this week all centered around forgiveness.  Notice I declare it around, not many of the folks I have encountered have actually aimed for it...me included.

(Warning-Rather long and cryptic, no real solutions either!)

Funny how we can see in each other the need for strengthening up certain areas, but when we start to getting a little irritable with weaknesses in our friends and neighbors, we too get a bit itchy in the parts we don't care to scratch...speaking for myself- there are a few people in my life I would like to forgive.  Not that they deserve it, mind you- but, me being a truewonder and all, well you know where I'm going with this.  How can I possibly expect tolerance when I am so very limited in that quality at times as well?  My own two hands have been involved in misadventures of the hurting kind.  God knows, I need forgiveness too for the many blunders I have taken part in, sometimes a greater part than anyone.  And I knew better.  That's where the itch begins, in the better part of me where weeds aren't supposed to grow and only lovely things flower...between you and I dear reader, I've got a few weeds to pull there in my own soul-garden.  Like the fact that I haven't spoken to a major "sore spot"  in months...sure I write letters, send gifts but I cannot bear to listen to the soreness.  I long for the words- I am sorry, I should have been there, I shouldn't have divided you...I love you,It's not your fault,I don't blame you...those words I know I'll never hear. Instead every statement there is oppositely reinforced in the negative, it's simply unbearable  The sore spot does not ask for forgiveness, does not want it...takes no responsibility for anything whatsoever.  So how do you forgive someone who wouldn't own it anyway?

 Here's the deal...I could forgive everything if only today we would begin again...or tomorrow...or the next day...or again and again and  again.  But nothing ever changes, so why should I?  I love from afar, less damage that way.  That's my excuse, my fortress that keeps me safe from the "monster" episodes I call them.  But also from afar, I can see someone who needs loving the most yet deserves it the least.  From afar, I am not so deeply inflicted by ammunition slung by a soul who can only love in the way of hurt.  Have somebody like that in your life?  Someone who feels so much pain and instead of dealing with it, they inflict it like poison arrows to your very soul?  How does one forgive that?

  These are matters of the deep heart, one that I have calculatingly protected from more damage.  Am I strong enough to believe in this grace within me to rise above?  I tell you I just don't know...but I've seen some numbers done on folks this week, they call it love- but it seems like more of a destroy tactic to me.  If I know one thing for sure, and this may be the only real thing I know- love always creates, it never destroys.  How does one create love with another that knows no other source BUT destruction?  How does one maneuver best around  the people among us who manipulate, calculate- are cold and hateful?  I tell you again, I just don't know- my wings are working fine now and I so do not want that flying part of me to become singed by the fiery flames of another.

.  I honor the creed, always be kinder than necessary.  I see beauty in ugly faces and places...but the one face I long to behold in beauty... is so frightening to me, and not only do I see the hurt and pain there, I feel it to my very core.   And there seems to lie their only joy- inflicting their pain.  I am  not such a willing pincushion these days.  Makes them mad as hell, which to my eyes-is at the very least more honesty than I've ever known in that face.  I have learned to tell the monster-NO, not allowed.  And the space between us grows ever larger, every "No!"  I command is met with worsening threats.  None thus far carried out...perhaps they won't fall, perhaps they'll fly across that great divide some day and plead, "tell me yes!"  And I'll say, "My, how far you've come... yes!  Yes!  Yes!  Yes!"  And  the beginning that might begin again will begin....again.

The moral of the story that has no end in sight- happily ever after means sometimes, simply forgiving yourself for believing that love divides, and pain is deserved for something you've surely done to receive it.  After all that fearful belief system is broke down and aired out- love looks like this-

Sometimes there is a gap between us that only love can fill...but sometimes that gap has no bottom and all the grace leaks out.  If that's the case- find the grace within you and redirect it towards loving and forgiving yourself and everyone you are able to, without losing your own footing again.

There's the work and it's terribly hard, and sometimes oh-so-lonely.  I choose to love my self up close, and others who often wield love like a knife- I'll love them from a safe distance.  That may not be the best way to navigate forgiveness, but it's a whole lot easier on a heart that's been mended a million times over...it's dangerous to have a heart like that and be around folks with scissors looking  for loose threads.  I have found that those folks who cut instead of mend...might scream , and act out and say they'll fall- most often times are the very ones who always land on their feet completely intact while you lay there in shreds.  That's been my experience anyway...

Forgiveness is the ultimate F word indeed.

( little grasshopper...I wrote this as current events are so parallel to past experiences and the remembered "soreness",  hoping that I might better help you navigate.  If not now, perhaps sometime in the future when you are centered and strong and very sure of your footing- maybe, just maybe the beginning again can begin.  If it helps, I trust you'll make the right decision for you and only you at this time.  Someone has had ample time to start across that great divide...If my child ever felt the way you describe, I'd become the best damn mountain climber that ever was and cross the divide, a thousand times over if I had to.  There is still hope here..., say and be beautiful to the best of your ability, be right within yourself and all will work out.)

the better part of me

  To not speak of death is to not speak of life.  I do not write of these things in sadness, I write all in gladness for what is, what was, and what will be...

Mother's Day is a bittersweet day for me.  The bitterness stems from missing my Beau, who never let an opportunity pass to show me what being his mom meant to him.  Sometimes it was a card, sometimes artwork, sometimes a bunch of dandelions with a wee bit of violets mixed in.  I have an old coffee can filled with his gifts, dried and fragile- yet I can never dispose of them.  I remember our last trip together, taking the Amtrak from Springfield to Chicago for a day of touring before he entered the Marines.  I can still see him there, gazing out the window at the old farmsteads and silos blurring by, I could almost read those thoughts, though he was quiet- his sighs were long and thoughtful.  I wondered if he knew, I wonder still...how much I'd give to protect him from all harm and love him fully, no matter what.  Those moments are inscribed in my memory, and they are good and worth keeping.  Beau, the boy/man- is in my every thought still- and on Mother's Day I think of him with tears first, I know no other way to get past the dark than to let it all flow away so the light, the memories can surface.
  This is my first year away from Emma, Mathew and Lily.  I'll miss them too...I remember my favorite Mother's Day with all of them.  Breakfast in bed, smeared blackened toast with jelly accompanied by coffee and juice.  I remember how proud they were to serve it, though possibly sending in the smallest waitress as they wondered if I'd mind the burnt offerings.  She was all giggly and sly, looking back towards her accomplices hideaway.  The other three, just outside the door- giggling too, perhaps wondering if I'd kill the joy of the messenger.  I remember smiling, oh the sweetness of that moment lingers still,  miss Lils got a big hug and then they all surfaced from behind the door to join in the wrestling, hugging match.  Lunch was charred pork steaks, glossy black.  Oh my, the memories I keep- laughing at this moment in the remembrance.

I have to add that I am shameless...I called each child, still my babies, always my babies- on Monday to remind them that Sunday is Mother's Day.  "We KNOW!!!" they answered.  I hope they know, I hope I always convey- how wonderful, how good how utterly right it is to be their mom.  I feel like sending them cards- no greater joy have I known that makes up the better part of me, than of being a mom to my children.  To my Beau- I send prayers and on Sunday, as always- rain or shine...a kite will go up, as if I can still hold his hand by guiding the string.

May all your hearts be filled with memories worth keeping, burnt toast and the blessings only a mother can know- and should you miss someone, may the smiles return as the memories shift clear of the heartache and enter into a slideshow through your thoughts of the happiest, most joyful of moments forever etched upon your very soul.


Take care-

...without the wind

I read something recently that just did not sit well with me. I am no scholar, psychologist, scientist- nor do I have much education to credit any kind of specific philosophy. What I have learned, what knowledge I have gained usually came from experiences. I have read and researched with the best of them, though I don't believe in dedicating my unique life/gift to the thoughts or beliefs of another. Many teachings though, have expanded my own horizons. But somewhere, somehow- I began to explore not only translations, but the vertical leaps, the transformation from moments of clear insight, that perhaps were graces given to me, that I might offer up a perception that might glean others a more vertical view. To do this, many mountains had to be moved. Many tears had to fall, many uncomfortable moments had to be endured, and one specific event exchanged all I believed. In short, all the layers of varnish that have been applied over the years had to be stripped away. I don't believe anything essential can be stripped away, what is ingrained in one's soul cannot be removed. Many speak of life's circumstances, a person's upbringing, education, lack of opportunities, physical ailments, etc. cause a person to become ingrained with a life pattern, making people act a certain way. That's the word that disturbed me- ingrained. As if what one was born to be may not occur because of the restrictions, the indelible marks caused by misfortunes and even fortunes. I don't buy this. I feel that as the layers are stripped away, the varnish- one begins to see that true grain, running completely through them. What life has done, shellacked for lack of a better word- has only left scratches that are not indelible, there are scars yes, deep sometimes- absolute ravines- but below those marks, is where our true grain lies. When I wrote-

Strip your layers

Find your grain...

I was dealing with a devastating life blow. For a time, I shellacked the hell out of my physical, spiritual, mental self. I drank like a fish, I smoked till I could only feel neutrality- I could not bear for the longest time, anything remotely akin to who I truly was, because who I truly was...became shattered, shredded, in deep and dark turmoil and pain. My well of inspiration had run completely dry, not only could I not help myself, I could not even begin to help another, even my own children. This feeling finally offered a bit of awakening-"Hey! This is not me, this is a performance- I am acting out of pain and fear, I am afraid of more of the same. But my children, my kids...I see this same kind of performance." And thus, my journey began.

I write these things because I feel that some may think more of me than they do of themselves. Brother, I tell you- the best I can offer you is a hand as I climb too. But if I can offer the same grace that was offered to me, if it helps you out along the way, so be it. My reasoning here today- if you find yourself completely hidden by life's misfortunes, strip a layer or two. It is a frightening process, it is painful, and mean and a terribly, terribly vulnerable thing to do. But it is a process, meaning- not permanent, temporary...the first step, the first layer to be removed is often the most difficult. We are not ingrained permanently by misfortune, though I do believe we are stripped, layer upon layer- until we see the grain of who we are.

"...open up to love and pain,
Hand in hand- they always go,
Sorrow's end is where we grow"

The pain does translate deep lessons but the love...and there is much love everywhere, I hope you can at the very least take some hope from me here- will transform you.

Pretty deep stuff here today, perhaps the climb has started for me again...I have come to believe that none of us ascends truly, unless we all do. None of us fly so high without the wind. None of us can set the sail until the ocean beckons. And none of us, not one of us- can do it alone.

"...if any little word of ours
can make one life the brighter,
if any little song of ours-
can make one heart the lighter...
God help me speak that little word
And take our bit of singing,
And drop it in some lonely vale,
To set the echoes ringing."

Please if you will, what has been of service to you in your life, helping you to see more clearly- what you were made to see, acknowledge, create?

Yes dear readers, I am asking you to expose a vulnerability and the healing that took place after...

Consider too, what virtue there is in your progress- it may just shine quite the bright light for another.

Thanks...take care-

If I do

Good morning once again...yep, we received another day. So many times...we forget what a gift that is.

Running around, rampant- worried about the world at large, but when it comes right down to it, I think people are hunkering down right now and looking out for number one. And that is important- to take care of ourselves first, make sure the family is secure, hopeful that we can take care of our group's basic needs. Oh sure, the government has got us in a bind, although much of it comes from our society standing by, silent- too silent some times when we should have been raising hell. Yes, we are all so very busy- so who has the time to step up and say, "Whoa! This is not right, not ethical. We will withhold our tax dollars...." Which, of course we cannot do- unless we want to do a stretch or pay massive fines. Seems some times, we just can't win- so we hunker down some more. Go with the flow. Buy what is sold and perhaps pray...Well, if you read this blog somewhat regularly, you know my prayer- a fine simple request. "Father thank you, increase my faith." In sunshine and rain, I say that prayer. It holds me accountable, I am strengthened, I am grateful, I am then fortified and must proceed with renewed faith. "To whom much is given, much is expected."

We, as Americans- to whom much is given, in spite of the long lines, traffic jams, high gas prices, food costs, educational woes, high taxes- some times forget just how truly good we have it. I suppose there is much to complain about, but there is so much more to be thankful for. Thank goodness we were born to be Americans, enriched on American soil, allowed by right of birth to agree or disagree. To voice our opinions in any way we see fit, as an individual or a group. We are entitled by that royal birth- to pursue happiness, or whatever it is we wish to pursue. Too many pursue what the hard work of others might bring them. They, the capable- posing as the incapable, prey upon our gifts, neglecting their own. We have become politically correct, bankrupt of our own common sense, indebted to those who have no intention of getting off our backs or the government roll. To them I say, enough is enough.

Politicians- you're breaking our blue collar backs, when we are emptied- who will supply your extravagant bonuses? Welfare recipients- if you are looking for a handout with two good strong hands held out, use those for something else other than picking my pockets. Newspapers- tell me some good news, or you'll become nothing more than compost fodder, I'm tired of your bad words.

The fear that is being shoveled by heaps and heaps upon our hearts, by the media, the music industry, Hollywood, our elected officials, and yes- even the green mongers- is bankable, but I see no interest bearing in my accounts. So CE Os, Administrators, Governors, State Officials,Presidential Shovelers- think about what your actions are saying. To me they say- Strike fear in the hearts of men and women, they will become indebted to us for the bail out that only big brother can provide.
Folks- isn't it time we saw through all that, truly see that the only thing Big Brother is doing is beating us down, further and further into submission? Fearful people regress into fearful children- but we're not children anymore. We have far too much knowledge, experience, wisdom- to be coerced into thinking that we need a hand holding session, that we need an overseer watching our piggy banks- as if we can't be trusted to account for our own savings. I think the leaders of our time are banking on our fear, our silence, our political correctness. Isn't it time we take hold of ourselves and say, "Look. You've worked hard all your life- the dreams that you dare to dream are often centered in the nightmare created by those who do not dream- they scheme. Money is their god and mass hysteria their religion. I have little faith in their system, but much faith have I in my self, my children- my own common sense and the Being that created it all. It is time I employed it. I will not be blinded by the darkness, but governed by the light."

Hope is real, love is permanent- all else is a smoke screen. If you feel like it's time to speak- that you have something to say that might evoke a good difference, if you're absolutely fed up with the way this country is run...down, write a letter to the editor. Align with men and woman who serve a higher purpose- a common good for all. Who are these people? Here are but a few-

The reporter who inspires by bringing us news that is worthy, that motivates and encourages us by the stories they tell of real people who stood up and had to do the things they did or do to not only survive but thrive. The teachers who teach and reach our children as individuals, empowering in them a sense of higher grasps of educational opportunities so that they may rise above any objections of their past upbringing- squashing their sense of fear and revealing to them their utmost possibilities. The farmers who share a common goal- feeding their nation, their community, their neighbors- nourishing all. The soldiers who volunteer to serve their country, their fellow country men- who at the very expense of their own lives- are willing to sacrifice all so that we don't really have to sacrifice anything. Think about that.

I said volunteers.

These young and old, men and women who are not making millions, nor can they ever hope too when they put on that uniform- they serve a higher purpose. They put themselves on the line at any given time- so that we may continue on in our sometimes too whiny way. These people are but a few examples of folks who are trying to make a difference. But...the way this country is run...down - it is getting harder and harder every day, for these folks- and that may be you and I in that accounting- to make these differences if we are in constant doubt, holding on to correctness and fear.

If we but let go of that fear, that correctness- who knows what might happen. The world will come to an end? Yes, in a sense- I suppose it will, but isn't it time for world changing? I mean, the kind of world where we all live in fear...of....higher gas prices? Food costs? Dying dreams? Is that kind of fear worth holding onto? Look around. This place is looking up. Look beyond the gas station, the grocery store- the bank. Look at the face on page 74 in your local paper- the guy who jumped in the river to save a stranger. Go on the Internet and Google Karma-tube...you won't believe your own eyes when you see what every day people like you and I are doing to make a good difference in the world- although I hope you will believe your heart as it beats a mile a minute with new found joy in dismantling the fear that you knew a moment ago as it makes room for the hope that will surely fill it. Hope is more powerful than the greatest of doubts.

Any one who has been through any dark night will tell you that it was not the money they had in their pocket or even a religious life preserver that saw them through- it was the hope garnered by some kind of inspiration by another, who- by their own experience gave them the light of hope, to find their own way.
Friends- we all are worthy of hope, of dreams becoming reality. We do deserve better than dark days, smoke screens. But we must first believe that hope in a fearful world is possible. I see no possibilities for deep change in a fear based society, but oh my goodness! The possibilities are sky high for a hopeful one! What are your highest hopes? What do you intend to do about it? Will you have the energy after another long day of just getting by- to try and make a difference, if not in your own life- perhaps in the way of kindness to another- to change the course of this world? Will this little by little contemplation then action truly make a difference? I wished I could answer that for you... Only you know your truth.

What essential steps might you take this day, this moment- to truly change your outlook, there by changing your children's attitude too? The truth and only the truth will set us free. And it surely will do some hurt, but the harm will not be everlasting- it will be momentary. The leaders of today...the fear mongers, will lead you alright. How much further are you willing to go?

My truth is apparent to me...thank goodness. I lived far too long in fear, I doubted the whole world because I doubted my self. A what if became a what is- it cracked me open and stripped me bare. My judgement was off, I could not align with my self for the longest time. Doubts of ever surviving invaded my dreams, my past, present and future. I had no hope. None. I cannot say for sure what finally awakened me, what defining moment brought me a hopeful vision. I only know that inspiration did find me. A card, a kindness- a glimmer of hope given to me by others in my time of desperation. This is grace, others remembered their cup was running over...they shared that abundance with me. By their grace, their goodness- a difference was made, a good deep change grew in me. Little ol' me. And here's the point- I'm just like you. Only, for whatever reason- I, like many others- have been subjected to a dark night of the soul- I had the choice to awaken to hope or to continue to fearfully sleep in my nightmarish world. The choice I made is apparent. I am not strong, I am by far one of the weakest people I know...but every day I wake up to hope, I choose to live no other way. By this choosing, every day- I must walk the walk. I must be courageous, I must convey what it is I know to be an essential truth. Not because I'm afraid the world will fall apart if I don't- it is essential that I share what I know because the world will become better if I do.

You and I and everyone we know needs hope, like water, like air- it is essential. Take my stories and dismiss them, or take the hope and share it. It is completely up to you. What you think, what you feel- if you allow yourself that beautiful freedom- is important, is necessary for deep change.

Peace and harmony are essential to the balance of all things...and is possible. But only you, you...as an individual can begin the process...in hope, others will follow. Not out of desperation or fear- but out of love and gratitude. Imagine! What might that world look like? What does the world look like to you right now? Picture the world you want. Hope or fear?

What is your answer?

Passages

Good morning, late morning...it's raining, thank goodness- so I have some time to write something here about the going's on in Chicago Tuesday. I was pure nerves, the shake started in my toes, entered my belly around noon time and began an all out tremor to my hands right before I started to speak. I had my notes, immaculately done if I do say so myself- like a menu, pretty sure I could carry the thing off but then they said, "We're expecting 70." Seventy?! Geez, don't these people have anything better to do? I'm not that interesting, and my entertainment gene only kicks in after a few margaritas...I didn't know what to expect, but I really only thought a handful of people would be there. They titled the talk as "Mother Earth's Soul Saving Grace"- kind of like an Aretha Franklin character in overalls-that was the picture I conjured in my mind. I gotta tell ya all...I truly don't know how people unwaveringly get up in front of a group and speak their heart...it's like being told, "Please take front stage, strip naked and sing." Uh-huh- that's easy. I think about teachers, and how they must get up and do this thing every day, well not get naked...but, speak- from their heart, trying to reach their audience, affect them. Geez- puts a whole new spin on my thinking, some people make it look so easy. Anyway-The lecture(I don't like that word, conjures up memories of Grandma shaking her finger at me for carrying around sticks in my pocket, in case I needed to shoot a bad guy. "Girls aren't suppose to do such things", always a lecture...)-was held at Oakton College in Skokie, for their Passages series. The room filled with life time learners, I tried to pick out a sympathetic soul who I might focus on...the lady in the front row, first seat. She looked like she knew a thing or two about life's ups and downs. But then, as I looked around- and I did look around, meeting eyes, speaking to each and every one's soul, and they listened with interest apparently, because the questions were wonderful afterwards-I realized we're all just people with our own versions of life stories. And the touches and the kind, uplifting things they spoke to me about- remember, these were life time learners...sharing knowledge of life goes on and on and on. One little lady and I talked of tomatoes and basil and how she was growing hers upside down this year, wanting advice for a natural repellent and what flowers to bring pollinators to the plants. Imagine bright white light, hair and face shine and eyes that twinkled something of secrets that only a long life discloses...she shined those twinklers on me alright, and wanted to know how old I was, asking in the most kindliest way. And then she said, "Want to know how old I am?" Of course I did, but this dear was ageless I do declare..."Ninety nine", she said, more twinkle in the telling. Imagine, hauling yourself up and off to school with a grumble sometimes at any age, but at 99? And trying something new, like turning your tomatoes upside down, just to see how they might grow...wow. The nervous day turned itself right side up into d-e-l-i-g-h-t. I did not get her name but I loved her in that moment all the same. Hopefully some from the class might respond to this post and let me know her name and tell her what I said, tell all of them thank you for me, for allowing me to share and bring back home something of a rare treasure, wise folks engaging me. The best part though, was when Lils commented, "Mom, you spoke well, even though I've lived it, you said it in just a way that I saw things differently. I was immersed." Imagine! A puffed up peacock had nothing on me at that moment! So there you have it, loads of words to express that I took far more away from the experience than I gave...thank you Oakton, you students of life- for the joyful day. Take care-

exploding love

Has anyone ever done something for you, out of the blue- that is beyond kind and wondrous? I have had this experience, many times...often, I forget soon enough to say thank you. My post today will speak of a kindness born out of tragedy, out of despair- yet even though these people who are going out of their way for me and mine have been through the fire of the loss of a child- they reach out to me, for me- in joy. On Saturday, April 5th, at dusk, Petersburg fairgrounds- there will be a fireworks show in honor of my late son, Beau.

(Brief: Shattered lives, helpless hearts- when the shock wears off, the journey's just begun.)

For Them
Seldom read the paper
so why did I today-
pick a piece of torment
on the obituary page

Another senseless tragedy-
twenty two and full of life
a local boy not quite a man,
he'll never take a wife

Oh his parents, numb struck parents
for them it's just begun
their questions in the multitudes
and answers they'll find- none.

I pray that those who reach to them
think of what they'll say
and only heal in time of need-
not hurt them more today

Small town folk will bustle
to the resting place
and offer tears and "I'll be here-"
and then just walk away-

They think they really mean it,
when offering everything
but they have reason to go on-
they just can't know the sting...

Oh the parents, poor sweet parents
it only has begun-
The road of grief, a million miles
they'll crawl through every one.

Them are the people who are holding the fireworks show, they lost their son tragically, too soon and I had just happened to be reading the paper, when I learned of their sorrow. I do not like to attend funerals (who does?!), but especially now- it is a difficult endeavor for me. John's wake was the first I had attended since my son's funeral- I did not want to go, knew I'd fall apart, but for them- I had to go. John and Beau attended school together, grew up together- different in personality and musical tastes, but good, uncommon unique individuals- I think they respected each other for those differences. After L. and V. lost John, I made sure they saw me, hoping they might come to realize this is what survivors look like, I was "a member of the club" a year longer than they. I needed to be there for them, had to see them through in any way I could, I knew the road they would have to travel. After reading the obituary, I wrote the above poem- I never shared it, I didn't think at the time that it would serve any purpose, didn't want them to know of the days to come...only hoped and prayed for them an awareness of taking each day, and only that day- as it came.

I saw them last year at my farmer's market- we hugged. They had told me of their lives intwinement with organ donation- how strongly they felt that something good should and could come from something so very tragic. They filled me in on their ever growing business in firework shows, how this too seemed to serve the purpose of a higher love, connection and joy given to countless others. I was offered a sincere loving gift- pick a few songs, Beau would be remembered in this year's vendor extravaganza- a major fireworks display in April. Six weeks ago, I received a letter telling me, showing me- that now the whole show would be dedicated in honor of my son. Many of his favorite songs and some USMC fight songs would be choreographed with the booming artillery. To say that I was touched does not scratch the surface of my feelings for this extreme, kind gesture. Turns out both John and Beau loved fireworks. Every year on my son's birthday, we celebrate-with fireworks. And now this ultimate gesture of honor, remembrance. It will be both a difficult display to watch and at the same time- a beautiful experience. In the dark, out of the dark- light and sparks and brightness- exploding love. Thank you friends, you know not what you do. Here I smile...