Tag Archives: evolution\

In Honor of Life and Death

The whole of humanity is a series of cycles and connections.

 

 All the world’s a stage,
And all the men and women merely players;
They have their exits and their entrances,
And one man in his time plays many parts,
His acts being seven ages. At first, the infant,
Mewling and puking in the nurse’s arms.
Then the whining schoolboy, with his satchel
And shining morning face, creeping like snail
Unwillingly to school. And then the lover,
Sighing like furnace, with a woeful ballad
Made to his mistress’ eyebrow. Then a soldier,
Full of strange oaths and bearded like the pard,
Jealous in honor, sudden and quick in quarrel,
Seeking the bubble reputation
Even in the cannon’s mouth. And then the justice,
In fair round belly with good capon lined,
With eyes severe and beard of formal cut,
Full of wise saws and modern instances;
And so he plays his part. The sixth age shifts
Into the lean and slippered pantaloon,
With spectacles on nose and pouch on side;
His youthful hose, well saved, a world too wide
For his shrunk shank, and his big manly voice,
Turning again toward childish treble, pipes
And whistles in his sound. Last scene of all,
That ends this strange eventful history,
Is second childishness and mere oblivion,
Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything.

– Willy Shakes  (William Shakespeare)  “As You Like It.”

wshakesp

I think William Shakespeare, (if that’s EVEN his REAL name) summed up the cycles of life very eloquently in that prose from the well known play As You Like It.  And yet, it plays the individual as an island… and we KNOW, No Man Is An Island.

 

”No Man Is an Island” by John Donne

No man is an island, entire of itself; every man is a piece of the continent, a part of the main. If a clod be washed away by the sea, Europe is the less, as well as if a promontory were, as well as if a manor of thy friend’s or of thine own were. Any man’s death diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind; and therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls; it tolls for thee.  

jdonne

So, if humans, are merely actors, that must interact with other actors on the stage of life… Do we not follow scripts?  Taking on the attributes of the Archetypes, at times passing the torch off to another player… at time’s being upstaged by an understudy?

There is no step missed in the organic cycles of living… but are we living or dying?

Anne Sexton addressed this well in her book of Poems Live or Die

Live or die, but don’t poison everything…

Well, death’s been here
for a long time –
it has a hell of a lot
to do with hell
and suspicion of the eye
and the religious objects
and how I mourned them
when they were made obscene
by my dwarf-heart’s doodle.
The chief ingredient
is mutilation.
And mud, day after day,
mud like a ritual,
and the baby on the platter,
cooked but still human,
cooked also with little maggots,
sewn onto it maybe by somebody’s mother,
the damn bitch!

Even so,
I kept right on going on,
a sort of human statement,
lugging myself as if
I were a sawed-off body
in the trunk, the steamer trunk.
This became perjury of the soul.
It became an outright lie
and even though I dressed the body
it was still naked, still killed.
It was caught
in the first place at birth,
like a fish.
But I play it, dressed it up,
dressed it up like somebody’s doll.

Is life something you play?
And all the time wanting to get rid of it?
And further, everyone yelling at you
to shut up. And no wonder!
People don’t like to be told
that you’re sick
and then be forced
to watch
you
come
down with the hammer.

Today life opened inside me like an egg
and there inside
after considerable digging
I found the answer.
What a bargain!
There was the sun,
her yolk moving feverishly,
tumbling her prize –
and you realize she does this daily!
I’d known she was a purifier
but I hadn’t thought
she was solid,
hadn’t known she was an answer.
God! It’s a dream,
lovers sprouting in the yard
like celery stalks
and better,
a husband straight as a redwood,
two daughters, two sea urchings,
picking roses off my hackles.
If I’m on fire they dance around it
and cook marshmallows.
And if I’m ice
they simply skate on me
in little ballet costumes.

Here,
all along,
thinking I was a killer,
anointing myself daily
with my little poisons.
But no.
I’m an empress.
I wear an apron.
My typewriter writes.
It didn’t break the way it warned.
Even crazy, I’m as nice
as a chocolate bar.
Even with the witches’ gymnastics
they trust my incalculable city,
my corruptible bed.

O dearest three,
I make a soft reply.
The witch comes on
and you paint her pink.
I come with kisses in my hood
and the sun, the smart one,
rolling in my arms.
So I say Live
and turn my shadow three times round
to feed our puppies as they come,
the eight Dalmatians we didn’t drown,
despite the warnings: The abort! The destroy!
Despite the pails of water that waited,
to drown them, to pull them down like stones,
they came, each one headfirst, blowing bubbles the color of cataract-blue
and fumbling for the tiny tits.
Just last week, eight Dalmatians,
3/4 of a lb., lined up like cord wood
each
like a
birch tree.
I promise to love more if they come,
because in spite of cruelty
and the stuffed railroad cars for the ovens,
I am not what I expected. Not an Eichmann.
The poison just didn’t take.
So I won’t hang around in my hospital shift,
repeating The Black Mass and all of it.
I say Live, Live because of the sun,
the dream, the excitable gift.

-Anne Sexton  “Live”
anne-sexton2-18-10

 

So a human, can play a role.  Have a script, whilst still choosing to serve Life or Death.  And each day we are asked to choose; “Do you serve Life, or do you serve Death.”

Perhaps some people feel like they don’t really have a choice.

Death is inevitable.

 

Dry July

I am going to take a hint from the Aussies and give my own spin to Dry July.  Dry July is a concept to encourage Aussies to cut out drinking alcohol for the entire month of July, in order to bring awareness and monetary support to those suffering with cancer.  It’s a sort of fund raiser, where you get people to sponsor your sobriety for the month by donating to the Dry July fund.  Those funds are distributed to people suffering from, or care taking people who have cancer to help defer costs, because let’s face it; Cancer is an expensive mistress.

The idea is, “people don’t choose to have cancer, but you choose to drink.”  By taking the month off,  you can focus on your own health and wellness.

Australians, much like Americans, live in a socially acceptable alcohol fueled society; and it can be hard to escape the temptation to drink because it is readily available and legal.

I myself have gotten into a lazy habit of  daily consumption, and not even the stereotypical consumption of social behavior.  In fact, looking at it, has made me redefine social behavior.  See, even though I have sat alone drinking, I am actively being social on the internet or on the phone.  So, even though I am not out at a party or a bar, I’m still engaging in conversation while staying up late and drinking.

Through this month I hope to start some new routines, and set some goals for myself.

I want to redirect my focus on my fitness.  I’ve jumped back into exercise in the last week, and I have dropped around seven pounds.  I know that by cutting out the empty calories of drinking, I will lose that weight much quicker.

I want to start a podcast.  I have wanted to do that for about seven years now, but I didn’t know how to start.  I think that Dry July is the perfect beginning topic, because I don’t expect it to be easy.  I live two blocks away from a bar/ liquor store.  I don’t have any bills or debts, so it’s easy to spend my disposable income there.  Topics that I would like to talk about are the effects of drinking in a sedentary environment, how to stay healthy while being a care taker; and my personal experience of taking a break.

Over the last few days I have been watching many youtube videos of Australians who decided to do Dry July.  I have been finding all the tips and tricks of tackling a sober month.  The consistent point that is expressed is; “What is your personal reason?”  Most people reach a point where they just make the decision because they have a personal epiphany, like how much weight gain they have gained.  Or taking a new look at their societal norms and wanting a break.  Some just want to save some money.  Some people just need the collective energy of a group dynamic to cessate.

For me, it is definitely the weight gain, and the senseless use of money toward something that isn’t going to help me at all in the long run.  In fact, I know it has been suppressing me from my potential; and at 36 years old, I want to see where that potential leads.

If you are interested in taking your own spin on Dry July, and would like some accountability, please feel free to reach out to me.  I know that I will probably need some people to talk me through any urges that may come up.

Dry July- Day One

Dry July- Day 2- Eleven Facts

 

 

Pain is a Place

She is soulful and silently chiding this estrangement.  Echoes ring inside her mind with aching pains she refuses to hide.

Losing Self, to Inner Peace.

Crawling from light into a place where warmth is first.  Catching a glimpse of shadows that please the mind.

We were simple once.

Conversations build elation, a mirage painted like a mural upon a crumbling wall.

What is this for?

Commotion, corruption; what is the difference?  Nothing more than a few letters.

Meanings lost upon the wind, patterns blown into the breeze.  Wild hearts seek a master, someone to tame their wiles, their reckless ways.

A child seeks the mother he never had.

We wrestle alone and pile upon word after word, leaving nothing but marks and bruises, barriers and walls.  Everything is lost in translation.   Everything.

“Who are these friends of yours?”  She says this with trepidation; she knows the place they hold.  They are the life within you; the death within her.

She is counting hour upon hour.  The slightest itch, creates a sore.  Bleeding never did cure the ill.  Bleeding never won a heart.

Loyalties and Royalties, another space filling another void that did not ask to be filled.

He never asks to listen anymore.

She thinks you’re afraid to hear the words between the lines.  You want to leave, to roam, and be free.  But these strings have been tied, waiting behind  each, a pair of scissors ready to take care of problems.

Flying from one wrong end to another, basing the same old ideas off the same old feeling.  Always using the same distinctions to discuss old conversations.  Tears can be recycled like yesterdays newspaper.

“No one will understand you, and those who say they do, are only acting.”

You are breathing verbiage that stinks.

“This word is defined the way I choose!”  says The Law.

Who gave anyone the right to change, to alter definitions?

“Hidden between the lines.” She says, “Creeping between the lines.”

WAKE UP!

Eat, sleep, dream, and fry your brains on anything.  Feel the circulation creep into the dark spaces, the dank places, the cold recess’ inside.

You have them.

“They hurt.” She says.

“They kill.” She says.

She isn’t me,today, yet anyone acquainted with pain will know this Place.

 

Je Suis Paris

Here is a compassionate voice sharing the effect of the Paris events on his artistic soul. His message is righteous, and from one artist to another, We were all given senses and sensibilities to embrace our born creative nature. Do not suppress your own gifts. Do not be afraid of your own voice. Do not cower to those who wish to squelch your brilliant participation in this greater creation!

HeartSphere

photo“Do you think a society is good, or that people are good? We are only as good as the artists and writers can make us appear.” ~ Anonymous

It’s difficult for me to sit back and say nothing about the events of the past few days in Paris, France. But as the bloodshed continues headlining every news channel and permeating my mind, I cannot help but to voice my thoughts of this insidious sphere. I cannot help but be saddened for the loss of all lives, yet I’m reminded of a simple time in my life, one that seems so long ago, but one that solidified my duty in life long before I was ever aware of it.

I’m reminded of my love for creation.

What is it to be creative? What does it mean to spend hours creating, crafting and working only to step back and breathe life into…

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We Are All Fatists

It’s crazy to think we are all weightless beings dragging around meat suits. Right?

Like here we are just roaming about superficially judging ourselves and others for their bodies.

And sure, we all have our reasons.

The other day, I posted this status to my Facebook, “How many of you are willing to admit you are fatist, even though you are ashamedly aware of it?”

I got five “likes” and one very sincere response.

The sincere response was from a friend of mine who lives in the mountains.  She lives an active lifestyle just out of pure necessity.  Here was her very honest, and candid response through our dialog.

” I suppose the day I lose all my excess fat maybe I’ll have a leg to stand on… Ha.  ”

To which I responded, ” I think it is sort of like racism, we ignore it until it is in our face. There are certain movements that are “body acceptance and appreciation” oriented and yet media is saturated by the idyllic bodies of 18 year olds. Funny that other cultures find obesity to be beautiful and a sign of wealth and virility; where as our society is pretty much disgusted by people who are not height/weight proportionate, despite the reasons, like hypothyroid, diabetes, and metabolic issues. Being “heavy” in this society is seen as a symptom of sickness, which plays in the mental health of the person with the weight. It is a lot of psychological fuckery.

And here is where she really shares her observations not only of other humans, but of herself.

Well overweight and obese are different to me. Overweight is pretty normal. I’m overweight, probably always will be. Obese makes me wonder how that happened. I wonder if it’s a psychical or physiological disorder. Or a mental disorder? Or laziness? Or were they raised to believe that their eating habits were normal and just fine, when clearly they are not?
I judge very fat and obese people, but only in one circumstance, really. Even though it’s only one circumstance, it’s not ok for me to judge. But I do, and here it is:
Someone walks in the door of the restaurant I am waiting tables at. A very large person. So large, perhaps, that their bottom hangs off either side of the chair struggling to withstand the weight of this person. This person orders a Coke from me, their friendly waitress. Strike 1. What are you doing? You’re making a terrible choice. “Of course!” I say with as much enthusiasm as a fucking Coke commercial. Maybe they’ve ordered a Diet. Even worse. Ouch.
You’re killing yourself. Can’t you see? I come back a few minutes later with a syrupy, dark, fizzy, delicious sodapop and place it down in front of the menu they are perusing. “Do you know what you’d like for lunch today?” I ask, knowing along which lines the answer will be.
“Yes,” this person says, “I’ll have the Bleu cheese burger and onion rings.”
Now, this Bleu cheese burger is a monstrous burger topped with Bleu cheese, bacon, onions and mushrooms. It’s delicious- and probably a thousand shitty calories with those damn delicious onion rings. See, I find myself in judgement mode for just a second here. “You’re making bad choices!!!!!!” Is what I want to yell! But of course, maybe that’s not it. Maybe this person doesn’t know why this food is no good. Plenty of places in America think that a burger is a good wholesome meal. “EAT MORE BEEF” was an actual billboard I used to drive by in Missouri when I lived there. Like somehow it’s the sweet nectar of life. Or maybe, this person struggles with their weight and decided that for one day, they were going to eat exactly what they pleased without guilt. Who am I to ruin that experience for them?
Who the fuck knows why this person is fat or if they care if they’re fat. But to answer your question, yes. I suppose I am a fatist, if that one moment when a grossly oversized and overcaloried meal is ordered out of the mouth of a fat person and I have a moment of weakness in which I forget to only love and never judge, for I have never walked in their shoes There. I admit it.

This is a great example of the thought process we all go through in any sort of judgment that we have toward anyone; even ourselves.

We see what we see, how we see it. And we know what we know, because we learned it or heard it.  Ideas and ideals can stick like glue, especially if those impressions were made in our youth.

Impressed with her answer I sent her this ; “thank you for your honesty, it’s really refreshing to hear someone be introspective about it… because it is just that one second, ya know? But just as quick as it happens we try to distract ourselves from that moment. I think you are averaged sized, not overweight. You are height weight porportionate… you have curves but gentle ones. Unless you are trying to look like a weight lifter or a body builder, you look totally appropriate for you.”

The comment was removed, but she later noted how it took her longer to write the description of her feelings and think about it, than it her initial judgments.

Let’s break this down a little…

We all judge, even though we don’t want or mean to.

We are all hypercritical of ourselves. Slightly more lenient on those we don’t despise.

Despite our natural inclination toward or against competitive nature, we are immersed in a subconsciously competitive world.   A world which has no clear definition in its causation toward it’s competition; where we no longer forage for food or kill out of necessity.

We are inundated with images of some one else’s ideals for perfection, and we’ve bought what we’ve been sold.

All of this has been a long time coming.

If we choose to dig deeper into our individual reasons for fatism, we will see our own trauma.

Sure, it would be nice to have the ideal body of a perky and pert 18 year old posing on the cover of Rolling Stone or Fitness; but let us be real.  We All don’t have high fashion photographers and filters; trainers, and eating disorders.

Some of us just have stress and hormonal issues, some of us are dealing with loss; self control and dysmorphia .  Some of us never knew what it was to be thin, other are dealing with guilt.  Some of us have had children, or sympathy weight…  Our insides are tired and worn, our outsides give clues to the story.

Our meat suits define us in some way.  They physically relate our internal states of being.  How we feel inside is reflected back to our external perception in every conceivable way.

When a person looks like they have given up; there is a strong chance they probably have… but this place is no place for us to judge the whys and how.  It is our job to see the weightless spirit that exists within that skin, and to encourage it to keep going.

It is our job to have the curiosity enough to ask and assist, especially in a place where every one is trying to make an effort.  Be it the gym; the track, the trail, or just in general life.

Competition doesn’t mean pushing the other guy down.  True competition only exists with yourself anyway.

I am sure this is just the “tip of the iceberg” in future posts looking at the same issue.

I encourage you to look at your own “fatist” mentalities.  Really examine them and ask yourself their source.  Spend longer than a few seconds on this daunting task.  Ask yourself how it relates to your own body image and how you treat (or mistreat yourself.)

And next time you feel the judgment bug bite your ass, take a moment to ask where it’s roots really lie, and what you can do to confront it with compassion.

We are all hauling around meat suits as malleable as our mind and spirit.

Twisted Sisters: Transparency; Accountability, Consequence, Jealousy and Ambivilance

It is coming, can you feel it?  The world is taking on a certain sense of transparency; where once there were lies buried too deep to see, unearth a disturbing truth.  We all have things we have been hiding from ourselves and others for years.  I am going to guess there is a very small percentage of people out there who experience telling the truth and being fully authentic in every moment.

I mean, to be totally authentic is not an easy task when you have been brought up to buy into both the program of “being honest,” and “keeping a smile on your face.”  These things to me, seem in direct conflict of one another.

Websites like Facebook have opened the flood gates for potential pity parties catalyzed by vague statements made in a status update.  Facebook is one of the first places people go to vent out their angst.  They realize they can get some acknowledgment for their struggles.  Commiserate over children, whine about traffic, or confess a crush.  In  a wifi connected world, the lonely still have a soap box.

On the internet we can see it all.  And by All I mean, almost anything and everything the mind can concoct; in every spectrum of perception that we broadly summarize as “good” or “bad”;  “wonderful” or “evil.”  Most of it is labeled as “entertainment.”  Some of it is staged.  Some of it is real.

There is one thing I have never seen on the internet.

Tell me, have you ever see any one say, “I beat the shit out of my kids today.  I hate what I did.  I am having a hard time right now, I could use some help.  Can any one offer me therapy, or some assistance.  I am having a very tough time coping with this alone. And the kids don’t deserve it.  I need the help of my community.”

And if you did, would you ignore it, respond, or just call DHS?

Or how about,  “I  have fallen back into destructive behavior and substance abuse.  I could really use the support of close friends right now.”

Would you just type a message and hope for the best with a suicide hotline number or; go get them and bring them to your home, or ignore it.

Or, off a deeper end;  ” I sexually took advantage of a child today.  I realize that my moral compass is off.”

“I stole money from my family.”

“I was in a hit and run, but neglected to report it.”

I bet you thought the last three are really tricky because unless you are a total idiot, you don’t broadcast that stuff.  And if you did, don’t be surprised if some one calls the cops.  Effectively relieving any guilt by assuming the powers that be will address the issue with adequate justice, right?  The “Hands-off-don’t-involve-yourself-in-other peoples-affairs-but-DO-get-involved-just-enough-to-feel-self-justified” approach.  Very few take a “This-is-my-community-and-I-want-to-be-involved-in-it” attitude, and many that do end up killing people and give that whole wrap a bad name.

We assign cops as our go to guys because we know they are trained for conflict.  And we hate conflict.  Stranger still, we assign the section of the community which the populace is most in fear of to assert control, sending everything to the battle ground of a “just “court system to deal with the stigmatic issues involving people who have no idea what legal language is.  And at the end of the day, either someone has a jail sentence; is released, or if you live in a state that has the death penalty, well, you know the rest.

Now maybe, somewhere, in some anonymous forum confessional, these admissions are happening.  But where is it safe to admit failure and willing to accept both help and consequence?

The court parades as such a savior, and yet has very little success with their long-term goals of more than incarceration and whatever capitalistic goals that  achieves.  Self aware Rehabilitation, isn’t really a modern style of function, quite yet.  Self Awareness is still in it’s baby stages it seems.

We talk about the diseases, but we rarely discuss the cause root of how we got there.  Then (all of a sudden) when sociopolitical moral issues arise, it’s like they came out of the blue.  But the closer we look, the more we realize, even Discontent has a birthday; and quite frankly we are a society that has a hard time with confrontation.   We prefer methods of distraction because we don’t know how to handle the brutal honest truth of potential existence.  Unless of course it is filtered through the news or major broadcasting network.

Take the current Cosby case.  There are over 12 women who accuse this man of indecent activity, being drugged and rape.  These allegations go back years, and were ignored.  Why?  Because we have been fed illusions of one thing, and the news conflicts with what we want to believe.  It stresses the brain out to the point it chooses to ignore it all together.

To add insult to injury, it isn’t just the entertainment industry which finds itself unintentionally in the middle of a barrage of transparency.

Take the biggest, wealthiest, and most influential religious institution in the world; The Catholic Church, and it’s mounting allegations of molestation, abuse, and even death that go back… CENTURIES.

Pull your big kid pants on, because this shit is real.  How do we actually DEAL with any of it?  Thus far the solution has been to pass the buck to someone else.  A third party vendor.  We assert blame.

If you have any sign causing an intuitive reaction that someone  is mistreating another person, especially a child; IT IS YOUR MORAL OBLIGATION to get involved.  (Unless of course you have no moral standing, and that is called a sociopath.)  You speak on behalf of community (which few people have a concept of in this day and age,) For those who live in fear and oppression do not know what it means to have a voice, much less how to use it.    You act because empathy tells you, that if the tables were turned, you would want an advocate that believes that you have some worth or purpose.

We shield ourselves behind the most smiley pictures and phrases we have.  We keep up the illusion of 24/7 joy.  We want Joy so badly.  We want her to fill our hearts in every moment…  We don’t enjoy the bombardment of sadness in reality.  It causes a feeling of hopelessness and helplessness.  In our hearts we feel if we just focus on the good stuff this would be an ideal reality.

Instead though, Jealousy and Ambivalence rule.  It is hard to see everything we see, everyday though social media and not be on their side.  And maybe you tell yourself, you only “like” or “comment” on that which is  “good,” “right,” or “just.”  And you believe the “New Age” that if you “just focus on the good, the bad will go away.”  You may ignore knowing that  social media has algorithms and filters.  Nonetheless Jealousy wins sometimes, because she is the driving force that causes you to “like” that photo. Because you wish it was you in that picture. Jealousy is sometimes passive aggressive, and likes what she hates because she doesn’t want the retaliation of a snarky comment  Other times Ambivalence wins because, if you don’t agree, it is easier to “ignore” or “block” than it is to add some substance to the greater conversation, or maybe, just because you don’t want others to know sometimes you are not agreeable.  You may be afraid of being blocked, or ignored.  Worse yet, you are probably afraid that  you let a piece of yourself out there that is raw and real, you will be rejected and unloved due to it.   Ignoring the fact that no one is perfect and there is variety in the world for a reason. Further buying into, and selling the illusion.

So as the interconnected reality we attempt to live in meshes further into the cyber world, we construct a design that allows us to do just that.  Create and perpetuate an illusion.  A place where every picture is funny, beautiful, or adorable ( at whatever end of the spectrum of perception you may be).  And we continue to hide behind status updates that are smart, provocative and sometimes depressingly honest.  Honest but somehow, not real and almost empty.

People think they know everything about whomever because they watch every tid-bit that is posted… but have those same voyeurs read every note in the notebook of the mind they are observing?  Or do they just read whatever  they are tagged in online?  Narcissism is the blindness that keeps us from seeing the truth between the lines and pictures.

Despite your worries or cares, blessings or achievements, YOUR world revolves around YOU… and likewise; even if you have children, your self-absorbed question costumed in humbleness and care is “how will I feed MY children.”

We envelop the world in our concerns, and unless you have been following the thread, you may just look like a complainer.

For instance, I have left a hearty online trail of my angst, but I don’t think too many people read it.  It is “depressing” and it has nothing to do with you….No tags.  Does it make my struggle less real to me?  Does it just come across as complaining to you?  Did you offer to help?  Did I deny you or shoot you down?  Did you just think, “typical musing from her.”  ?  Did you pray for me , or send word of consolation?  Does it even matter?

SURPRISE!  All of this does have something to do with you.

Do you ever feel pain or discontent? Do you fail?  Do you make mistakes you hope to never repeat? If you can see it for  yourself and feel something, you have Self  Awareness, and you should be honored for it. If you get these things then you may know what I am talking about.   You may realized you never admitted certain things to yourself, your own struggle with it.  Which means you probably haven’t admitted it to anyone else, and you may really be struggling with some internal moral battles, and feeling despondent and completely alone.  Your self-awareness has been nagging that something is off, and you have chosen to not face the issue full on, and maybe even have fallen victim to yourself.

I don’t think one can truly harness that illusive Joy,  without first confronting and tackling the dark part that continues to pull their view from the light that is purposeful absolution.  And that means to face the struggle and tackle it head on; not to just complain or ignore.

Personally, I only remember moments where I was happier than others.  Few of them were consecutive.  I have never had a phenomenal month of Joy.  Nor do I think a life with out dark dips is a potential reality in this world.  We learn through our mistakes and misgivings.  We evolve through experiences of both success and defeat.  We pay the price of consequence in all our actions.

My whole life has been a struggle with the dark side.   Trace my writing back to its beginnings of child like journals and thoughts too big for the child writing in the journal.  It isn’t easy.  Especially to be transparent, confrontational and advocating righteousness; however, it is what we all deeply want and need.

I face my own mistakes daily, and yet something I think about often is a time when I was 16. Walking down the side passages of the mall to go to the restroom, and on  my way out a man, his wife and three-year old  daughter were walking toward me.  The small girl was dragging her coat on the floor; the mother had a black eye, the father towered above them.  He started yelling at the small girl to pick her coat up off the floor, and before she could respond the father picked the girl up by the front of her shirt and slammed her into the brick wall.  Screaming in her face, shaking her against the unforgiving hardness that stood behind her tiny body. Scared shitless…Mother backing away, looking away; doing nothing.

I continued to walk by and act appropriately like I was taught.

“Do not stare. And most importantly DO NOT involve yourself in other Peoples affairs.”

At the core of my soul, I feel more guilty and wrong for doing nothing  in that moment than I feel about any misguided intentional misdeed I myself accomplished in the 16 years previous and the 18 years after that one moment.  My only excuse was fear because God knows I was born confrontational, and I have no guilt about that.   Fear can no longer be used as an excuse to those  who know fear is an illusion.  I wish I knew then, what I know now, and I hope that Momma and girl are safe and alive.  I have never admitted to having a regret, and that would be it.

That said, the only solution I have is this; Transparency and Accountability. Be honest with yourself and all you deal with. Call each other out.  Use your intuition.  Get into other Peoples business.  Be raw.

Ask for help when you need it, accept it if it is offered.  Participate in your community and do not be offended when they involve themselves with you.  Be social in real life, not just in the cyber world.

Honor pain and struggle, give it a voice and find it a solution.  Band together as people who have all experienced the most basic of human emotions, and use them to strengthen the good in the world; use them to balance the scales of injustice and harm that goes on senselessly everyday.

Love each other the way you want to be loved; finally set an example of human behavior that can not be ignored.  No one is perfect, and if we can agree on that it should be easy helping one another through the struggle that it is to be human.

Simply put,educated and empower one another to be accountable and transparent.  Deal with each other  in state of love, in equity and consequence.

A letter to Illusive Divinity

Dear Angels and Ascended Masters,

Blessings to YOU, Dear Ones, of Illusive Nature and yet Who speak to Us in metaphors about the Nature of Illusion.

NOW is the TIME when WE grow WEARY of Your Illusive Illusions of this Delusion We live in. 

NOW is the TIME when WE CALL TO YOU DIRECTLY, and ASK with great DESIRE and CONCERN to Speak, NOW, to Us in easily understood terminology.

We have been swayed by the loops and somewhat vague nature of your messages.  Each mind, interpreting each message in their own way. Each wondering if they have done enough… if they will make it into Heavens embrace, to see the face of the Creator.

The singular I that IS, has grown weary, time and time again.  These cycles of Ascension are tedious and at times very confusing.  It is in those moments, I need the most simple and clear answers in order to allay my own Mortal attitudes.

As these cycles continue in their intensity, I find myself void of such answers.  The Heavenly call to submit, and surrender, leaves me wondering if I am better off just laying in bed.  For that feels like surrender.  And yet in the same notes You can recommend we continue with our daily tasks in knowing the time is neigh.

I know, I do not speak of just the I that IS, when I bring attention to the many of Us who have felt an inability to start long term projects, and at times even finishing projects that were already started meant for the long term.  You have asked us to Live with two feet on Earth, and our heads in sights of Heaven.

Perhaps you are truly unaware of how uncomfortable this can be for many reasons.  However, it is, and it is disconcerting.  By no means, am I that IS, telling You how or when to do Your job, as that would just be silly… However I that IS, calls to you for less metaphor and more direct lines of communication.

I that IS, understands that You speak in a language of Love, and Compassion allowing Us to wander toward Our own conclusions.  And that is all in the cycle and movement of the soul.  However, the I that IS, is ready for her judgment, as She is tired of judging herself and others.  She IS anxious in awaiting Her call, perhaps a little afraid that if it comes, at the end of the line will be rejection… that is IF She even gets called at all.

The I that IS, is calling for divine intervention in those who are feeling the same way, but Heaven has already set them a place.  May those who will be invited through the gates, be hand delivered their invitations from Divinity.  Please, expedite this request through the proper channels.

The I that IS, appreciates all You do for Us, and thanks You greatly for the messages you are able to share.  May this letter be taken into consideration, as a gift of acknowledgement from the I that IS of the Faith of a Child.

Sincerely,

The I that IS