The Whos of Humanville

Will the Jewish Messiah be a warrior or a man of peace?
Will he be an earthly king or walk among the earth's least?
If he's a great earthly ruler, will he rule by the mighty sword,
Or will he have such wisdom that he will lead with words?

Will he be a rabbi, as he sits upon his earthly throne?
Or will he, in quiet contemplation, spend his life alone?
By what traits will he (or maybe she?) be recognized?
Is control of this earth the Jewish messiah's prize?

What if Israel was a part of each Jewish soul,
The Scared Spirit that makes humanity whole?
What if wherever there are two real humans
The Sacred in them reaches out and blends?

What if we had a worldwide truce for a year,
Using children's words to make our needs clear?
Would the children want us to kill their fathers
Because we adults don't play well with others?

What made me want to be good was the sadness I felt
About the pain that my sins, Baby Jesus, had dealt.
His bloody adult human body didn't bother me
As much as the shame of hurting this tiny baby.

The only thing that I can see as ever bringing peace
Is the agreement that killing of innocents cease.
It matters not if we're Jewish, Christian or other,
We are all sacred seeds of both father and mother.

If my baby needed life-saving blood transfused,
Would blood of a different faith be refused?
Our blood, bones, and skin are only camouflage
For The Sacred Spirit that dwells inside.

I wish that the earthly life that is left in me
Could be used to help set my grandchildren free
From the fear and scorn we have for other beliefs.
Perhaps they'd learn more if fear of war ceased.

Will the Jewish messiah bring an end to war?
I hope that's what their earthly messiah is for.
Will he have the right words and amount of charm
To bring about a world that is finally disarmed?

Or have we come to the point in human evolution
Where we see war as a temporary solution?
Can we try praying for the burning Sacred Spirit
Loud enough that all the angels will hear it?

And all the Whos down in Humanville will rejoice
When the sound of celebration is the only voice,
When the bombs have stopped dropping on babies
And all the earth, for each other, will sing praises.

The Scent of The Sacred Spirit

Fresh-baked Cuban bread and buttery biscuits, lime cheesecake, French pressed coffee, New Orleans brewed beer and red wine. What could be better ways to round out the Easter feast? All of these finishing touches were lovingly made by Maite's mate, Larry. What a baker he is! And such a perfectionist that Maite has to regularly remind him that his food is not to be hung on the wall; the taste is more important than the presentation. For Easter, everything was beautiful and delicious.

The morning dawned with a  fog so deep we couldn't see the marina just downstairs from us. As Richard and I sipped our coffee facing the marina, the fog suddenly disappeared and the sun glistened briliantly on the boats and ripples. We both commented on the feeling of resurrection of new life possibilities this brought to us. As the day of back and forth with our neighbors wore on, we felt a general feeling of celebration as that which we used to share with so many people in our various homes.

What may have dampened the days of many who had planned backyard Easter egg hunts, for me, was another gift of being back in Louisiana. We could see the dark clouds coming in on the water and could "smell the rain" coming. I have always felt extremely energized by the certain scents that waft in just before a major thunderstorm. It is the combined smell of the ozone that comes with the energy of lightening and the smell of fecundity of the rich earth in the swampland surrounding us. It is the smell of life for me.

Isn't that what we are told molded us? Sacred Energy was breathed into bits of earth, and humanity began. There is no place teaming with more life that the swamplands that are enjoyed by my ancestors, the Cajuns.  And The Sacred Spirit even has a scent. What could be a better Easter blessing than that?

Happy Easter, Fellow Humans

It is Easter and we are living away from family, but there's always somebody who wants to be treated as family, especially on holidays when so many are unavailable because they are busy with their blood families.  We've not really done any entertaining since we moved to this small condo, but we decided to resurrect our hospitality skills just for today. We're sharing the spotlight with our next door neighbor couple; she from Venezuela and he a good old American man.

The plan is that they will provide bread, beverages, and dessert. They are also providing a table big enough to seat six people.We're making smoked salmon stuffed eggs (After all, what is Easter without boiled eggs?), on an "Easter grass" bed of lettuce presented in the bowl I made in pottery class. This will be accompanied by a second appetizer of Brie baked with our homemade chutney made from pears that we got from my Mountain Mama's son's pear trees. The crackers will be displayed on another of my pottery pieces, and the salad course will simply be fresh asparagus tossed with Greek dressing and Feta cheese crumbles. i'm displaying this on the only piece of our china to survive Hurricane Katrina.

For our entree, which will also be displayed on a pottery piece I made, Beef Wellington will be served. Alongside the beef will be new potatoes, prepared in a way that our dear friend, Mary Jane from Coker Creek, generously shared on Facebook, just in time for our holiday feast. Those tiny little green beans that the French call haricot verte will be tossed in butter to complete the picture perfect presentation.

Here's the thing. All of us sharing this day have given up on organized religion, feeling that how we share our hearts is how we share our sacred spirits. All four of the men attending put their lives on the line in one of our wars. I am honored to be able to help make a holiday special for one man from each branch of our country's armed services.

I owe much appreciation to Kelly Landrum, my pottery teacher for making a dream come true for me.  I've never been considered artistically talented. I couldn't even color inside the lines, and my penmanship grades were abominable. I had always dreamed of being able to craft in clay, but was afraid to try. Kelly introduced me to a whole new world of creativity, something very akin to cooking, but that will last past the meal that sets on it.

I owe my neighbor, Maite, for miraculously believing that I was the person to tutor her in English, and my neighbor Daniel for insisting that he needed me to cook for him. I owe my long-time photographer friend Sheik for always sharing his enthusiasm for all things New Orleans and all of humanity with me through his fabulous photographs. But most of all, I am blessed beyond belief by the generosity of my husband. Without his sacred soul reaching out to me (with much prompting by my friend Queenie), I'd have nothing and nobody now.

Happy Easter. May you always have humans in your life resurrecting parts of your own Sacred Spirit.

Resurrection and Relationships

I wish I could say that yesterday, I nailed my selfishness to the cross and that tomorrow I'll be a Sacred Spiritual being without a body to keep leading my spirit astray. I wish that all the scars on my psyche would only be a memory, and that all the wounds I've inflicted on others had simply disappeared, leaving in their places holy communion with all whose lives I've touched and by whom I've been touched.

Perhaps if I had died physically yesterday, this may all be true, but I am still a physical being. It matters not how much of The Sacred Spirit I have in me; I still have human needs. Even Jesus, who had a huge amount of The Sacred Spirit in his human manifestation needed food, drink, friendships, and time to himself. And Jesus made it clear that while he was willing to suffer and die with us for the resolution of the sins we commit against The Sacred Spirit in physical manifestations, he also made it clear that we owe each other healing of wounds that we have inflicted. He did not remove the thieves from their crosses; he allowed them to make restitution to their society by their deaths.

How do we go about resurrecting relationships that have been mortally wounded, other than by withdrawing our physical selves and hoping that The Sacred Spirit that we've shared eventually overcomes the pain the the relationships produced. There is always an empty spot in a soul that loses the physical presence of a deeply loved one in this earthly life. We seek to fill the emptiness with something; we often fill it with anger or even hatred. The struggle is to lose the physical pleasure of the person and to consciously focus on filling the soul with The Sacred Spirit of the person that you've so loved and by whom you've been loved.

Imagine the strength of The Sacred Spirit Jesus shared in his lifetime on earth that when he asked his friends to keep his spirit burning in their souls and lives to share with others, The Sacred Spirit is still growing over two thousand years later.  I hope the strength of my shared spark of The Sacred Spirit can salve the pain I've caused. I will probably miss the physical presence of many of my most loved ones, as long as I inhabit this body, but never will I lose The Sacred Spirit that they shared with me.

A Master (Mistress?) of Ministry

All of the conversation about Pope Francis washing the feet of females who may have been Muslim has got me thinking again of a recent day that glows brightly in my memory.

Both my daughter and her youngest daughter are very particular about who they allow to touch them. I applaud them on this, except when it's my touch that they're avoiding. My daughter is extremely protective of her two daughters, physically, mentally, and morally. I also applaud this, as I'm a firm believer in  authority being attached to responsibility.

Several months ago, this granddaughter revealed that, although she'd like to have a pedicure, her mother had not allowed her to do so. Her mother was with us when she made this statement, and agreed that I could take the teen and her older sister for a pedicure. Because my daughter had heard horror stories about fungus imparted from the soaking tubs, and being the due diligence type, researched how to make sure your salon is following proper pedi-tub procedure. This included asking how long the salons disinfected between clients.

I had seen enough of my salon to know that a quick spray and swish was all their pedi-tubs got between my toes and the next set. Not wanting to carry the burden of guilt (not to mention my "mother ain't happy" tones and looks) should I choose a less than sterile environment for my precious daughter's precious daughter's toes, I aborted the mission...until their next trip to Louisiana.

I planned with my daughter to have a surprise day with her and her daughter who had never had a pedicure. I arranged with one of my most glamorous friends to create a spa day at her house. She took us to the beauty supply store where we purchased everything necessary to do a spa pedi, as instructed on the internet. The afternoon was spent in my friend's delightful company, and that of her two dogs, with my friend massaging my loved ones' legs and making their toes twinkle.

What a wonderful day it was for me, watching my daughter and her daughter succumb to the gentle female ministrations of my friend, something that my daughter has never been prone to doing. And even more marvelous for me is how happy it made my friend to wash the feet of my daughter and granddaughter. She lovingly talks about it several months after the event.

This is my idea of ministering to each other.

Save the Males!

I have a third-grade teacher friend who is worried about the future of males; I share her concern. She believes we need a movement to "save the males;" I believe the males need to take seriously the need to save themselves and their unique contributions to society. Women's choices have been unleashed by effective conception control, and men have been treating our new options as a cute trick that they don't have to take seriously.

My friend is a school teacher for a mostly black and Hispanic population. She has noticed that many of the boys coming to school are not ready to learn. Has this always been the case? I have heard for years that boys tend to be three years behind girls in "maturity." Girls seem to be reaching puberty earlier and earlier, while males seem to be less and less fertile. If we hold boys out of school for longer, will this set them back even more? Or should we put them in pre-school even earlier than their female counterparts? Maybe we simply need more men at home, setting examples of impulse control and compassionate caring.

Without forcible draft for unskilled warriors and with the advent of industrialization making brains more valuable than brawn, what is the future for those males that are not at the top of the educational ladder? Is it to be the same, or worse, than the women in the past who were not born with great physical beauty or family wealth to overcome this handicap?

We still have too many males coming into the world in old-fashioned patriarchal societies, where women defer to their infant boys' demands. Those who have impulse control will eventually control others. The female ability to wait and gestate ideas, plans, and progeny may be outpacing the need for physical superiority. What are we, as mothers, sisters, wives of the males to do? Should we hold back the females or give the males responsibilities other than procreation and protection of the children?

If we are to re-define the role of males as nurturers with greater bursts of physical energy, we must be willing to share with them the skills of nurture and nesting. How else can we hope to create true parenting partnerships? We must share with them the secrets of our own waiting periods instead of scorning them for their own "stop and start" behaviors. They must be willing to give up their macho images for the sweetly sacred innocence of a child's trust.

If we will not incorporate men into our secret societies of settling down to family life, we may be looking at a future without males. IVF is a first step to separating procreation from emotional bonding of parents. Cloning isn't very far in the future. Cells, science, and a womb are all that is necessary to create life without a male. There is now the real possibility of a world of only women. Is this the future we want to see?

Religions of the world need to take note and stop placing gender definitions on The Sacred Spirit's manifestations. It seems that our earth needs both male and female energy in order to prosper. Humans may succeed in fooling nature, but cloned life will lose part of its strength and increase part of its inherent weakness in every subsequent generation. Think of this fact from many years of animal husbandry before you answer this question.

Blessed Be the Womb that Bore You and the Breasts that Nursed You

"Blessed be the womb that bore you and the breasts that nursed you." - Luke 11:27. There must be a reason that both mothering functions were separately honored. Many of us were born to women who, for one reason or another, were unable to "feed" us, spiritually, emotionally, mentally, physically." Very few of us can do all of these jobs and do them all well, especially for more than one child.

Many months ago, I wrote about stopping abortion through community mothering, and a minister friend who had spent years in Africa, said that children in Africa have many mothers. The birth mother is mother #1. He did go on to say that polygamy is also part of the family life in Africa, but that's another issue.

Coincidentally, a friend from another country was recently telling me about a time when the mother of her godchildren had to be away for an extended period of time to take care of a family medical emergency. My friend, who had never had nor wanted to have children of her own, stepped in as the "mother." There were times that the smallest of the children could not be soothed by any means; she instinctively put them to her dry, but welcoming breast. The babies were soothed.

Many years ago, in some areas of the country, slaves were required to do much of the mothering, never being honored as "other mothers." There is still a disproportionate number of "other mothers" being paid near-slave wages to tend to the children of the wealthy. Shouldn't we be honoring these "breasts that nurse" our children as "mothers" to them, giving them a share of our resources proportionate to the importance of the task they are taking on themselves?

I was blessed with a middle age in which I don't have to earn my own living. This freed me up to have time and energy to devote solely to being "another mother." I have tutored a perfect stranger's child in reading. I have "nursed" four grandchildren, a godchild, and the children of many neighbors and friends. I have also been refused the role as godmother by a church authority that clearly didn't understand the nature of the human elements of faith.

Both my daughter and daughter-in-law are teachers of children with special needs. My daughter's charges are from extreme poverty; those of my daughter-in-law are what we refer to as "special education" children. Both of them not only mother their own children, but participate in "mothering" many other children in their neighborhoods and schools. Both of them are in strong parenting partnerships with their spouses and several close friends, so they are able to also specialize in their own areas of "mothering" expertise.

It is time to rethink what "mothering" means and how it should be honored right here on earth. It is not enough that we write flowery verses singing of a mother's love. It is time that we impress upon our society the desperate need to be prepared to not only give birth, but to provide for all the needs a human baby has in our ever more complex society. It not only takes wombs and breasts to bring up a human baby; it takes brains, immense energy, and a huge financial commitment.

Contrary to religious reasoning of the past, children do not reach the "age of reason" at the age of eight-years-old. It is not the responsibility of an older sibling to "take care of" their little brother or sister. Only responsible adults should be tasked with such an awesome undertaking.

The only way we actually show honor is by sharing our physical resources fairly. There are no master's degrees in mothering, and our society doesn't truly honor the efforts of anyone without a specialization. Community property, as established in some states, may begin to address the inequity in the "wages" for mothering, but not all states have these laws. The nature of the marriage contract should be discussed before any marriage license is granted. Why aren't the churches advocating for this in their social justice campaigns?

There are too many babies being born by those who live only by their animal instincts, procreating and acting as if the rest of society owes it to them and their progeny to be the "breasts that nurse" their offspring. We expect our teachers to do the work that should be done in their own homes and communities. The burden is breaking the backs of our teachers and our educational system.

Perhaps we, as a society, did owe some restitution for all the years that we robbed the slave's families of the mothering energy. I know many white wealthy women who have given untold hours teaching and otherwise "mothering" the children who have few resources at home. It is time that we are realistic about honoring the "other mothers" with resources and honest authority over the burdens put on all those who are responsible parenting partners.

The issue with our old patriarchal mindset is that women are to have all the primary parenting responsibility without commensurate authority or remuneration. If we are to participate in "mothering" the children of others, we should be able to limit the numbers that we will absorb into our hearts and homes. Our society has long been too complex to need a great deal more unskilled laborers. Why are we resistant to free conception control for these less-than-responsible sexually active people?

I have retired from "mothering" because the religious right continues to look at responsibility as a personal relationship between them and their "God." The individual rights advocates refuse to admit that they are part of a community that requires rules of justice in order for partnerships (parenting and other partnerships) to work.

The "blessing" I want for the efforts of my womb, my breasts, and my brain is justice, meaning shared responsibility, shared authority, and shared resources. This, I am blessed with by my husband who did not even father my children, but I know too many women, biological mothers, teachers, nurses, cooks, waitresses, housekeepers, waitresses, clerical workers who are not equally blessed.