Finding Forever Every Moment

too long

2010-07-29T01:04:00.000-07:00

i took a long hiatus from this blog. couldn't even remember the password. this is my blog, though.

I am reflecting today on the life of an activist who was in my circles. I have been reading about his work all day. I am reeling with questions about where he might be finding himself today, other than held by the people who knew him best.

In honor of Art.

An old Oak fell on the hill
and no one was around to hear.
it is not true that no sound was made.
for his voice was the loudest among thousands.

blessings to you friend. May your legacy be lifted to its highest places and may peace prevail from this point on.

the truth revealed

2007-02-01T10:25:00.000-08:00

i've fallen out of touch with the world that i know.

i used to notice my passion, my care, my hope about the world. over the past year i have been myred in frustration, pain and intense fear.

it might sound odd for people who know me to hear this....or maybe not....

maybe i am just discovering where this frustration has been hiding and, how it has manifested in various forms in my life.

so this one woman's name keeps coming to mind. and it's not because she was a powerful leader during the time of intense oppression of African and African-American people in our country, and it's not because she is remembered for her bravery and her battle for justice. it is, in fact, her name that has been on my mind, and in my mouth.

for over four years now.

i work for an organziation named after this very woman. and her last name, though not her birth name, is a word that vibrates in me like the bell in the church tower.

Truth.

i wanted my first born child to hold Truth as a middle name.

but...this entry is not about a name. it is about the beginning of a journey toward that very thing; truth.

in the next entries, i will begin a stream of consciousness confession of my life's truths.

here is what i ask of readers:

before you judge remember that we are human and that with each step, my ultimate goal is to walk the walk. in other words, i want to know that my humanity is left to be judged by the divine spirit and not other humans who are in the same inane struggle for divinity (i will address my feelings about this loaded sentence later).

also, if you read something that you feel is too personal, i ask you to think about the word courage and how it relates to you and your life. then ask yourself, "what am I afraid to say?"

finally, i ask that if you comment (which i hope you do), i will honor your comments as part of your journey and reflections. it is with joy that i share these stories, reflections with you in my best effort to know myself and to know what loving people really means.

so here i go.

Opening the Circle

2006-07-14T10:42:00.000-07:00

I am not the sort that takes a compliment well, though I am getting better. And it is difficult for me to be on the receiving end of gifts. I am the one who gives.

See, I forget that when we are not comfortable about receiveing gifts, we deny others the sincere joy of giving. Wonderment is a pleasure but service to others is more of a pleasure.

We honor, both ourselves and others by allowing ourselves to be loved and appreciated.

In my culture- supposedlyJudao-Christian in nature-- it is humbling to receive gifts; we must be not be proud or lustful or greedy. But if we are giving others joy be receiving gifts with gratitude, then are we not honoring the Divine Connection with all things?

I suspect that there is a balance to receiving and giving. How do we find that when the individualistic society presses it's tribalistic/globalistic agenda in our face?

I say...open your circle. Get to know more and more and more people in the most real ways possible. Listen to their stories. And notice how they are lik you and me and then, notice again.

You only Have this Tool: Take Care

2006-07-12T18:02:00.000-07:00

She said, "Healthy communities focus on what is possible."

I say, so do healthy people.

She said," Ubuntu: We exist because we are together."

I am grateful for this word, because it summarizes what we know intrinsically: that we are NOT made to be able to exist without connection, not matter how much our ego says that we wish to stand on our own.

Love is much more demanding than Law.--Archbishop D. Tutu

We are bound to one another by love and love alone. We have a desire to see others survive so that we might do the same. Therefore, if you do unto yourself what you would have them do to themselves.....well....

I find the battle to be able to take time and space to get what I need is real, long, intense. As a young leader I find myself wanting to give up on trying to inpsire others...someitmes wanting to scream out, warning them to quit now. But what I know to be true is that their survival is dependant on my survival....and vise versa.

Spread love.

All My Relations

2006-06-06T11:37:00.000-07:00

Ho.

A friend of mine once told me that you can learn a great deal about the way a man will treat you in a realtionship by how he treats the waitress in a restaurant. I have heard, too, that you can tell how a man will treat a woman in a relationship by how he treats his mother or sister. It is also said that you can tell the kind of man that a woman is looking for in a partner by observing her father. I believe all these to be true....sometimes.

Sometimes isn't always.

What I know about relationships is that they are dynamic, flowing, ever-changing. What I know through my experiences and through stories of friends is that we do, in fact, often play out the behaviors of our parents, their parents, and their parents' parents. In relationships to people and the world. In other words, we continue to play the same parts over and over through generations.

And I also know that within each of us is the power to stop the cycle right now.

This gives me great hope.

An Ode to Those Leaders Leading the Leadership Life

2006-06-01T12:48:00.000-07:00

An Ode to Those Leaders Leading the Leadership Life

Leading is luscious,
a foundry of fumbles and feverish fun.

Leading is simple, silly,
and social; saturating
and sobering.

Leading is hopeful, hysterical,
helpful--
holistically healthy.

Leading is made of memorable
moments of mishaps
and martyrdom.

Leading is
active, aggravating,
and awesome.

Leading is luxurious and
luminating;
wonderful and wild.

Leading is daunting,
dynamic,
and
daring.

Leading is
forgetting and frantically
following.

Leading is ruthless;
random and riveting;
reaching for what's right.

Leading is brave, bold,
and breathtaking.

Leading is laughable--
trying, terrifying, trembling;
gorgeous, glorious, and good.

To all those leading the leading life....

flow,

frame it freshly,

feel foolish and

fly!

Lessons of the Armadillo

2006-05-30T09:53:00.000-07:00

Marsupial or crustacean? I am not sure about the origins of this creature, but what I do know is that the lesson she teaches is clear: Protect yourself.

I take this with a deep sigh.

Her message is really about making sure that as we reach out to love so many people in our lives, as compassionate people do, it's important to reach out to ourselves, too by setting boundaries. We must give ourselves the space that we need to walk with confidence and love in our hearts for all. We do this by saying, "This is where I stop and you begin." Boundaries are important, for health, for safety, and for whole living.

Armadillo can wrap herself into a ball if she needs...if she feels threatened or until danger has passed.

Thanks for your lessons, Ms. Armadillo.

If only I was a White Young Adult Male with a guitar

2006-02-28T10:34:00.000-08:00

It's clear that unless you are a white young adult male distressed about love, you will never make it in the folk/folky pop music business.

It's bull.

What do we mean when we say "stronger?" Part 1

2006-02-16T07:29:00.000-08:00

As I was driving from West Virginia yesterday, I was suffering from sciatica because of sitting for nearly 8 hours straight. During my new regular weekly workout, I have been focusing on strengthening my hips, legs and lower back to try and remedy the problem that is causing me to not sleep through the night. During one particular workout recently, I was remembering chanting... saying to myself, "I am getting stronger every day." I used this as an affirmation. Deep from within, a notion swelled in me.

What does "stronger" really mean?

Strong is a word to describe something being less penitrable? How does that relate to me? I looked up strong in the dictionary and found it to be, not enlightening:

strong
adj. strong·er, strong·est

1. Physically powerful; capable of exerting great physical force.
2. Marked by great physical power: a strong blow to the head.
In good or sound health; robust: a strong constitution; a strong heart.
Economically or financially sound or thriving: a strong economy.
Having force of character, will, morality, or intelligence: a strong personality.
Having or showing ability or achievement in a specified field: students who are strong in chemistry.
Capable of the effective exercise of authority: a strong leader.
1. Capable of withstanding force or wear; solid, tough, or firm: a strong building; a strong fabric.
2. Having great binding strength: a strong adhesive.
Not easily captured or defeated: a strong flank; a strong defense.
Not easily upset; resistant to harmful or unpleasant influences: strong nerves; a strong stomach.
Having force or rapidity of motion: a strong current.
1. Persuasive, effective, and cogent: a strong argument.
2. Forceful and pointed; emphatic: a strong statement.
3. Forthright and explicit, often offensively so: strong language.
Extreme; drastic: had to resort to strong measures.
Having force of conviction or feeling; uncompromising: strong faith; a strong supporter.
Intense in degree or quality: a strong emotion; strong motivation.
1. Having an intense or offensive effect on the senses: strong light; strong vinegar; strong cologne.
2. Clear and loud: a strong voice.
3. Readily noticeable; remarkable: a strong resemblance; a strong contrast.
4. Readily detected or received: a strong radio signal.
1. Having a high concentration of an essential or active ingredient: mixed a strong solution of bleach and water.
2. Containing a considerable percentage of alcohol: strong punch.
3. Powerfully effective: a strong painkiller.
Characterized by a high degree of saturation.
Having a specified number of units or members: a military force 100,000 strong.
Marked by steady or rising prices: a strong market.
Linguistics.
1. Of or relating to those verbs in Germanic languages that form their past tense by a change in stem vowel, and their past participles by a change in stem vowel and sometimes by adding the suffix -(e)n, as sing, sang, sung or tear, tore, torn.
2. Of or relating to the inflection of nouns or adjectives in Germanic languages with endings that historically did not contain a suffix with an n.
Stressed or accented in pronunciation or poetic meter. Used of a word or syllable.

So if I am stronger am I more powerful? Am I healthier? Am I more clear thinking? Does being stronger allow me to have an advantage over others? In what ways? If I am stronger in my faith does that mean I beleive more? Can you believe less? you either believe or not, right?

Stronger seems to be a word that describes syran wrap and laundry detergent, odors and armys, appearances and emotions.

But in an etherial sense, how do we know if we want to be stronger, or can get stronger? Why would we want that in the first place. This indicates a that we are not made the way we are.

I would encourage feedback about the concept of being "stronger." There is a second part to this...

My Day As Defined By a Column in my Planner

2006-02-07T08:43:00.000-08:00

I find it apalling, really, that when I wake up in the morning and "visualize" my day ahead, what appears first thing in my mind is not a scene of my office, or the beautiful trees on my drive to work, or the women with whom I sing on Monday evenings, but this photograph of a series of lines with times next to them running down a page. I see my scribbles and circles contained within these lines. In fact, it's an exact image of a column in my day planner.

It's difficult to accept that my life has been narrowed down to this.

When I was a kid, part of what made the weekends fun was imagining playing with my friends and singing songs. I would see myself roller skating with my neighbors, or riding bikes to Vans Market for lemon heads and bubble-gum, the feeling of warm quarters and dimes in my hands. I would think of the face of a friend, the sound of a voice. I would cringe as my mom would yell for the laundry to be taken downstairs or a new roll of toilet paper to be put on the roller. I looked forward to laughing with friends at school, or seeing a cute boy in class or in the hall. I could see my dad asking what I wanted for lunch and remember this question throwing me off momentarily until I could visualize my dad's fresh baked bread with peanut butter and honey on it.

Any more however, this is what I imagine:

8:30___________________
9:00___Directors Meeting___
9:30___________________
10:00__________________
10:30__________________
11:00__Kendall and Rich____
11:30__________________
12:00___Brett___________
12:30__________________
1:00___Ph: High Rocks_____
1:30__call Susan R________
2:00_Ask Shelly WS_______
2:30__Ph: Urban AC_______
3:00 ___Fellows?_________
3:30___________________
4:00__Report____________
4:30___________________
5:00____WO____________
5:30___________________
6:00___Calliope__________
6:30___________________
7:00___________________
7:30___________________
8:00___________________
8:30___________________

What does this mean? How have I loved people well by thinking about THIS first thing in the morning? Can I truly assess the success of a day by whether or not I have done these things? Checked them off? It seems wrong.

What's even harder for me to imagine is that, as I age and my memory begins to fade, the image of my father crying at a movie that we watched on the couch of our house in Worthington, Ohio might be taken up by the image of a column in my planner on October 5, 2004? The brain, though a fascinating and complex organ with a great deal of "holding capacity," still has its limits. I even try to regulary 'exercise' my brain by doing crossword puzzles, by learning new songs, and by reading poetry to memorize. I just don't know if it is helping.

I also don't want my life to be defined by what is 'between the lines,' so to speak-at least not in this capacity. I don't want my insights into 'what I have done with my life,' to look like 8:30__Community meeting__. Frankly, it begins to seem surreal.

So maybe it's not as bad as I am making it out to be. Maybe the neurons that make the memories about the smell of a loved one are different or connect in a different way from the ones that create the image of my day planner. Maybe I should not lose all hope...yet.

I have a desparate side, however. The side of me that raises the red flags to warn of impending doom. Or at least, that something is not cool. I want to know that hiking in the woods can never be written down in a column. That the moments I spend in quiet conversation with my lover can never be 'scheduled.'

So...here is a promise to myself, and to my family, friends, loved ones, aquaintences, etc.:

Even though your name may appear in a column of my day planner, it does not reflect the time that I do or do not think of you. I promise that flashes of memories and events to come appear before me at odd moments. In fact, there are 500 million billion little moments that my day planner can't possibly capture that involve loving, seeing and being with the people that I know. There is no way that I can write them all down. But they are there. And should we talk soon, I will tell you about the wonderful things that I think about that are not in my day planner.

And this will be just one way I share my love for the world.

Organ Donation Part 2

2006-01-23T08:24:00.000-08:00

So when I was eighteen, I thought a great deal about the unselfish act of giving a part of yourself to save the life of another person. I was thrilled with the idea of carrying on in a way that one might not expect. I was fine with helping out wherever and whenever I could...In whatever way.
As a young adult, i began to contemplate the fragile questions about God and "a larger plan" and interference with Fate and Destiny. What is Right? How do we play God in lives of others and how do we justify certain acts that take a part in the "greater good?"

These huge questions linger as I push into midlife. But at 21, I decided i did NOT want to donate my organs. My explanation is not clear, though. I change my mind about it regularly. I feel a great deal of shame for being so unsure about something that seems so easy to decide. Are my organs made to "give away?"

Ok.

So...if I have passed away and I am no longer a part of this world, I know that I am not going to be using my organs. I am not my body.

But my body is a reflection of me in this world, it's my tool. It's mine to take care of, to make choices with. No one can take care of it better than me. Right? Can I make choices about it when I am gone?

But if the energy that is Who I Am is no longer using the tool, shouldn't I share the tool with others. Yes.

Well, no. Why is it that humans decide?

A friend of mine, when I said I was a scientist said, "No you are not." He argued that science is not the only lens through which I look to make choices about the world or to veiw situations.

I was in shock at first. Though I should not have been.

My faith is another lens through which I look when I make my decisions, as it should be ( I will not go into detail here about my faith). But my science brain continutes to battle with my spiritual self. Years I have spent questioning, wondering, discovering, rediscovering, and finding forever in every moment. I notice that I have learned a great deal....yet there are still unanswered questions...and therefore...I have learned little.

What if The Divine Plan is that a person is suppose to leave? What if my life and the lessons I am suppose to learn are related to my knee injury? If I donate my organs to others, what if their lessons are altered in a way that they were not suppose to?

I do, however, believe that everything happens for a reason.

Hmmmmm.....

As for organ donation...well...the jury is still deliberating in my mind. And until there is no shadow of doubt, I feel it best to keep my parts to myself....however selfish it may seem.

Knowing tomorrow, I may change my mind.

I will let you know.

Posts to Come...

2006-01-13T07:03:00.000-08:00

In an effort to try to write more... and to reflect on things that I have been thinking, I am commiting to posting on the following topics over the next couple of weeks:

My Day As Defined By a Column in my PLanner
Hawk: My mild Mannered "Co-con-spirit-or"
What do we mean when we say "Stronger?"
Yoga=Union: The Insights of a Pilgrimage to Union

My hope is that by putting out there that I will write on these things, I will not be fooled into being distracted by life and not fulfill my life as a Blogger.

At least, not until I run out of good topics.

*wink*

Organ Donation: Part 1

2006-01-13T06:40:00.000-08:00

I have a colleague who is looking to do one of the most humanitarian acts I can believe possible. She has wanted for years, and has recently decided, to donate one of her kidney's to a person who might need it. This boggles my mind.

I know that in countries such as India, Bulgaria, and Brazil, people donate their kidneys for thousands of dollars as a way to find money to support their families, to find extra money, and to work themselves out of debt. I have met one person in my life who has donated a kidney to a young relative who struggled for life, but in the end, died. It was a heart-wrenching story.

I was thrown back into some thinking I have done in years past about organ donation when my colleague announced this to me recently. At the age of sixteen, I was asked when I received my drivers license, if I wanted to be an organ donar. I immediately had to make a choice. My father being a physicians assistant at a Children's Hospital, I thought of the children that he did not know by face, but by byopsy tissue. I thought of the young lives that could be saved by an organ donation. I said yes.

Upone renewing my license, at the age of 18, I found myself bombarded with the same question. I two years time, I changed my mind. I remembered being etremely self conscious after replying "No" to the question of organ donation. I wondered if the woman behind the counter would think me heartless, selfish, or inconsiderate. I drove home that day in angst. "Why had I decided not to donate my organs?" I wondered to myself about this for weeks. The question haunted me.

After deep thinking and challenging insights, I decided that I would not change my mind at the time, and see how I felt about it when I was older.

I'd like to share some of the thoughts that went through my mind then, and that have resurfaced in recent dialogues with co-workers, friends and with my partner.

But before I share, I would like any reader to ask themselves what their reasons may or may not be for choosing to be an organ donar...or for choosing not to be one.

It's a question that, I beleive no one should take lightly.

(to be continued)

Hanging on fury

2005-12-08T10:32:00.000-08:00

Seven days of a head ache doesn't leave much room for creativity....

So i will ask a question.

Can we truly find peace?

Is it missing?

A Frank Impression

2005-07-08T08:24:00.000-07:00

It has been long since I posted on my own blog. I won't apologize though. My days are spent creating workshops, designing new ways to structure programs, managing grantees, tolerating incompatencies of fiscal managers, and developing more efficient ways to make A communicate with B. Rather industrious for a non-engineer sort.

By days end, I hardly have the time or desire to share my thoughts and concern and frustrations about the world. Rather, I find myself living them (my thoughts and concerns and frustrations) or living through them.....then doing my best to let them pass, finding the dwelling daunting.

But have I forgotten the title of this very blog?

No one wants to hear about how I sent too much money to an organization and now must negotiate getting it back, or how i spent a half hour driving behind a loggin truck on my way to work where I scrubbed the toilet in my office because we have no "cleaning staff, " or how I came home to a dirty house with five percent of my energy reserve left to clean the dishes, then crawled into bed while they sat, still dirty, in the sink.

I give, damn it. I give all day long. I give of myself to my co-workers, my job, my friends, my partner, my family, my house, my neighbors and to the random animals that snoop about the porch of the house. At days end I have a small bit, a tiny crust, to spare for myself. But it is that crust which I depend on for survival, for renewal, for hope that I can give all over again, so much, the next day.

I may sound selfish for not feeling bad that I don't spend more time writing to no-one-in-particular on this blog, but my frank impression is that I don't need to "make up" any more things/people to whom I need to give any more of myself. Cyberspace has enough random crap floating through it.

For those who take the time to venture into my blog, my space, my thoughts.....please come without expectation. Know that my intentions are not isolationistic (if that's even a word). My intentions are to make space for dialogue, as I or others see fit to give. My expectiations are...well...none, frankly. Not for this blog, anyway.

As for my co-workers, my family, my partner, my friends...even the random animal obsessively trying to snuggle up to my toes....my expectations are greater. i just hope they can understand my moments of feeling "spent" and put up with my craziness just a little longer.

As for blogs....I'll come and go as i please, thank you.

A little bird of happiness

2005-06-15T09:01:00.000-07:00

One of the highlights of the intelligent movie K-Pax (Kevin Spacey, Jeff Bridges) is when Prot (Spacey) cures a person suffering from severe depression by asking him to look for "the Blue Bird of Happiness". This patient, being totally non-responsive to medication, is seen to find incredible elation in witnessing an aim come true for him, although the aim itself is no more than a small bluebird fluttering busily in a bush - an almost common sight for the ordinary person. The scene touches you at various levels.

And today, I saw my bird of happiness.

Read more...

Driving lesson blues

2005-05-10T08:14:00.000-07:00

I have never driven a car in the 26 years of my life. The fastest thing I ever had under my control was an automatic transmission two-wheeler (whose speed records I suspect that I surpassed with the remote-controlled model Mini Cooper I played with recently).
So, when I sat behind the steering wheel of this 3000lb vehicle, which purred softly as I caressed the accelerator pedal, it kinda set me thinking. It was probably a good thing I was in a huge near-empty parking lot.

That moment I ceased to be delimited by a 5'-7" high human body with two walking limbs and eyes that could look only straight ahead. My body became the mind in charge of something larger, heavier, more powerful. Every sudden brake, every gingerly reverse drive, every growl of the engine was the body language of a tentative mind, like a baby learning to walk, or eat for the first time. The apparent 'clumsiness' of a person is not necessarily a bodily problem, but maybe the reflection of a lack of mastery of physical existence by the mind.

Somebody rightly said that technology is an extension of the human body. How human beings use techology, the purpose for which it came into existence, reflects the human desire to control nature with faculties beyond the body. But it is also true, that no matter how perfect the machine, it is only as good as the user. What's more, there comes a point when an individual's use of technology becomes a unique expression of that individual's personality, character and culture. If Beethoven had a car, his way of driving would be as unique as his musical compositions. And I bet Hitler would be driving a Hummer.

Technology not only extends your body, it can subtly change who you are. Think about it. Say you drive for an hour each day. An hour of looking in three directions at once, high-speed decision making ("Oops-I-missed-the-exit-I'll-take-the-next-one-and...."), concentration ("Don't look at that sexy jogger, keep your eyes on the road"), empowerment ("0 to 60 in 5 seconds flat" ).......don't you think you take at least some of that to your daily life outside the car? Is it a surprise that you can multi-task so well? Or feel like honking loudly when life seems to be stagnating?

So you see, it kinda set me thinkin'. Not being a driver may not explain all of what I am today, but it certainly explains some of it. But now that I'm learning, will I be a better person for it? I get the idea that it's a great thing that high-school kids in this country learn how to drive in school, because there's hardly a better way to instill empowerment and responsibility. But then again, why are there so many jerks on the roads?

Embarrassed to say

2005-04-12T08:36:00.000-07:00

After more than a week of no sugar and no caffeine, I find myself light and airy and energetic. I suggest to each of those, determined to take life lightly, to first sacrifice. Those things that we most enjoy can be our greatest burden.

The moth is hanging on my window screen, desparate for shelter from the rain.

Even the smartest creatures of creation, ignore their inner divinity at moments to take a step into undetermined territory. Sometimes, it is to their end. And sometimes, miracles happen.

Blessings abound.

Today

2005-04-08T08:58:00.000-07:00

A willow in the sunshine is a beautiful thing.

It was a young tree, the leaves blooming in the early spring day...were they green? Yellow? Both? Neither? With the stolid green of the grass as a backdrop, it looked for all the world like a bright child cradled in the weather-worn arms of its grandfather.

The river flowed on, oblivious.

Today's little pleasure

2005-04-07T08:30:00.000-07:00

Chocolate! No, I'm kidding.

Today I saw a robin taking a rather indulgent dip in a small dirty little puddle. And when I looked, she craned her neck up and ruffled her feathers with a reproachful look, "Sure I'm gorgeous, but can a lady get some privacy around here?"

It's spring, and everything is wet and green (Oh, so many shades of green!). There are little weeds growing through the paved brick roads. So much to look at, so muct to smile at. Who needs chocolate?

Today's happy moment

2005-04-05T09:34:00.000-07:00

I will try to post one happy moment each day. It won't necessarily be the answer to all life's problems; neither will it be just another bad joke. Well, here goes:

Walking to work in the sunshine, I see a squirrel scoping me out. Up on his hind legs, rubbing his hands together in apprehension, he casts a sidelong suspicious glance as if to say, "Well, whatcha lookin' at? I don't know where the nuts are!"

So there. Wasn't much, but it made me laugh.

Cryptic My A*^%$!

2005-03-26T18:24:00.000-08:00

I'm not finding this cryptic crossword stuff funny. The brain is designed to think in a particular direction. This is not the tendency when doing these types of puzzles. As I stare at the clues with my dyslexic mind's-eye, i find myself tensing and untensing, flailing in a blustery stirring of crazed pretend-words. What is a maenad, damn it?! How am I suppose to know other languages? This word is not allowed in scrabble!

(The Clue was: Mother knocked over Scandinavian--she's a crazy woman!)

So it is with my limits. I set them on my own. I have bound myself to a finite world and refused to stretch my imagination farther than I can bear. How have I become so confined? I was never like this before.

A man once asked his teacher the answer to a simple question:

When will I know if I have reached enlightenment?

His teacher smiled and replied, "When you believe that you have reached enlightenment, then you are farther away than when you began your journey there."

How will I ever know if I can solve these crosswords?

Rampant Desire

2005-03-03T08:16:00.000-08:00

Today I sat in water that spilled on my front seat of my car from my water bottle. As I stood at work with no clothes into which to change, begging a young woman to borrow a hair dryer to being an arduous process, I felt frutration at my desire to be clothed in dry pants. As I stood burning up in the restroom with the hot air not doing the job, I invented a new machine in my mind. I realized at that moment, most good inventions come about based on need. However, many more these days are based on want...just pure desire.

In our illusion of separation from God or The Divine Spirit or Krsna or Allah or (Insert Name), we create and recreate desires that are not quite what we are looking for.

A chocolate cookie can be utterly satisfying for a moment, an instant...but just like a newly opened birthday gift, the thrill of anticipation is gone once our eyes and mouth taste the sweetness.

Many prophets throughout the ages tell us to pray for what we desire and it shall come. Few ask us to accept that our desires will never be fulfilled. But who asks us to bask in the anticipation, to revel in our needs and wants? Who asks us to make ourselves rejoice at just the wanting?

Translation, Please

2005-02-27T16:37:00.000-08:00

Man, I don't get this blogging stuff. I have never seen another's blog. I don't get the whole thing. Forgive me if I mess it up a bit. PHEW! Any pointers?

I will share this...

Today i was totally humbled by a Rumi poem read in the middle of the night. Shit kicked me in the head, right when I needed it. Some do not like Rumi, his Sufism, or his relation to Islam, but how can you not totally adore a man who wrote about being in love with God. JOY!

So my stomache was grumbling at 3 am...i got up to get chips to eat. I was tired and weepy before i went to bed, asking for a hand with getting why i have been so caught up in my life, unable to focus on God and God's will. I picked up THE ESSENTIAL RUMI translations by Coleman Barks. I opened it to page 68. The poem was entitled FASTING. OH YEAH!

In the poem, Rumi reminds us that we are vessels, containers. Only when we come to God empty, can we be filled with Love and Peace.

I slept hard the rest of the night, was meditative in the morning. And Fasted.

Today is a new day. Tomorrow, too.

Peace is a choice.

Unsilence

2005-02-25T13:51:00.000-08:00

I've never experienced this bloggin thing. I find it quite amusing. I am happy to find others who are doing it. The idea of a journal on the web is scary and weird, but I am going to try it. Actually, the fear stems for the idea that soemone might find me out...or use what I say against me. I have made it a practice to look for ways to be invisible. But MLK Jr. said, "Our lives begin to end the day we become silent about things that matter.

Today is my first day of unsilence.