Every Day Real Time Resolutions

What are we to think about the fathers of our religions committing all manner of what we today consider grave sins of incest, adultery, and murder. I suppose we are to see that religion is an evolutionary process, never stagnant. I assume that we are to continue looking for the sacred scriptures that will guide us in each generation. Who is enlightened enough to choose which scriptures of today are to be codified as sacred?

Where are today's books of beliefs that guide us toward peace? Who is creating words for the covenants that must be accepted as Divine for the world to see that we are all responsible for leading our world toward a safe place for all humanity? Even those who call themselves Christians continue to kill in the name of their "God." Is this simply where we are in the evolution of human ability to embrace and follow the Divine Spirit to Peace on Earth?

Every day, let us begin again, not simply on New Year's Day. Let us consciously take steps toward understanding and equality. Let us choose to have respectful dialog, even with our enemies. If warring nations can come up with treaties for wartime agreement and cease fires for specified periods, why can we not work out an everlasting treaty for the protection of all children worldwide?

Fear begets rage. Let us offer up our fear in favor of faith in the real possibility of a peaceful future. My belief is that well cared for and protected children will grow up lacking the rage that it takes to embrace hate and the harming of other humans. Plan parenting for use of excess resources, not simply for propagation of our own, supposedly superior, genetics.Turn off the tongues that force fear into our ears and those of our children. If we believe in and embrace the goodness in each other, peace can eventually prevail.

A New Year of Light, Love, and Laughter

I have spent my adult lifetime purposely erasing all earthly images of Divinity from my mind. I had been taught so many false images of what God looks and sounds like, that I felt I needed to start over without physical images in order to accept the pure Spirit that I know lived in me before I was "taught" about God.

I opened my heart and soul as wide as I could and the pain that came pouring in, literally, brought me to my knees. I was awash with the living memories of all the false promises of faith, family, and forgiveness. Sometimes one at a time and sometimes in groups, the demons of my lifetime came back to taunt me: People who used my penitence to enter my soul and suck it dry for their own aggrandizement or physical pleasure, people who attempted to hide behind me while continuing to pursue pleasure at the expense of others and  themselves, people who sought to take away my joy because they apparently felt it took something from them.

Many of these people, all the while, proclaimed their Christian caring for me with no attention to what their actions were doing to my Spirit. I simply had to come back to my roots and face the fears from which I had run. I had to return to the Spirit of my six-year-old self and, once more, become open to comforting of the Baby Jesus inside myself. Nobody needed me to be the mother or the big sister to them. I could revisit my most vulnerable self in the warm glow of protection of my sacred spouse and my safest friendships. I am home in a way that I hadn't been in fifty-five years.

I looked to those whose visions of The Spirit seem to me most true. None of these are ivory tower academics or recognized as holy people or prophets. All of them are people who simply live life as an adventure. All of them are flesh and blood workers who will admit to their many failings as professionals, spouses, parents, and progeny. What they all have in common is humility and humor that they are willing to share with me and others.

How many times and how many crosses do each of us have to carry in this life? How many times are we brought to our knees in humility because we are powerless to "fix" ourselves, our spouses, our friends, our children, or our world? The people that I want to emulate are the ones who don't get angry with those who won't be "fixed" or at the world in general for making them feel weak.

The people that I want to emulate are the people who continue to be true to their best selves while holding out a hand and open heart to help others find their own Holy Spirits. I want to also emulate the people who never stop working at being their best selves and solving problems, while always aware that their wills are not necessarily what will happen. I want people in my life who understand the The Spirit is infinite and everlasting and that our lifetimes are meant to nurture the Holy Spirit in ourselves and in others and leave the world a bit better than we found it. It is not to "fix" everything that we see as wrong while we are here.

For these reasons, I have returned to my faithful friends who have known my soul since I was a child. We still recognize the innocent Holy Spirit in each other and love to play together in the safety of each other's friendship. Along the way, I have found other "playmates" who can still see the Spirit of innocence, wonder, and hope in their own souls and those of others; these too have become parts of my newly innocent soul. What could be more healing than that?

Today is the last day of 2012, a particularly challenging year for my husband. We are stronger in our combined Spirit than we have ever been. Tomorrow we begin again in the light, love, and laughter of each other and our friends, as we attempt to do every day. Mazel Tov and Happy New Year!

Pursuit of Passionate Perfection

How foolish human beings have been in discouraging human passion;
Positive channeling, I hope, will become the new religious fashion.
There are no feelings given us that can't be used for good,
If we simply use our human sense, as we always should.


Passionate people have an extra spark that is Divine intensity;
Their passionate pursuits portend who they are meant to be.
Our job as parents is to help our children to define
The best use of the natural gifts to which they are inclined.


A child who can't for long sit still, may one day fight fires;
Another who tells great stories, may attract a product's buyers.
One who laughs much, may work with the ill, lightening the mood.
Even the rage of an abused child can be channeled for other's good.

Who will sing the songs of joy and pain that we all feel
If we silence the voices of those who can help us heal?
Who will chase the babies as they run from us in glee
If  we've killed the wind in the sails of the children who ran free?

Who will scare away bullies when the vulnerable are attacked
If we take away the honor in the righteous fighting back?
How many drugs are used putting our passions to sleep
Instead of channeling them into endeavors we need to keep?

I write because no one any longer wants to hear my voice;
But to keep my thoughts silent, I do not have that choice.
The dancer must express emotion with a twirl and a dip,
Or capsize under the weight like a too-fully laden ship.

The cook must cook, the quilter quilt, the singer continue to sing,
Not only for others' pleasure, but for the release it brings.
There are always people to be protected by those who fight;
Let us help to channel the rage that turns injustices into right.

There are those who think they're super-heroes in their fantasies;
These dreams can be turned toward treating and curing disease.
There is no passion that cannot be turned to the pursuit of perfection;
It is time that we squelch the fears that lead to The Spirit's rejection.

Passionate Perfection

When I was young there were rules for everything, from how to draw a tree to how to be me.
When I had children, the rules had been changed; a tree looked like what my child could see.
I learned to look at life through the lenses of my children and the children they brought home;
I felt that by allowing them such freedom of expression, they would not be tempted to roam.

As they grew and sprouted their own wings, I blessed the wind beneath them.
Our relationships evolved at this time, from parent and children to friends.
I was honored to be included in their circles of parenting communities;
The memories of these sacred times, will from my soul, never be freed.

There is nothing in life so sacred as to be trusted as a mother,
With whom is shared the care and nurturing of the child of another.
I am so very fortunate that the man with whom I now live
Had stored up so much fatherly love that he was happy to give.

There is a saying that the most precious gift a father can give a child
Is the love that protects mother's body and soul to feel safe from the wild.
I have had the privilege of helping mother many who aren't my own,
Through the grace of my loving husband sharing our peaceful home.

We are now a childless couple for the first time in our marriage;
This new way of living as a couple, we will not ever disparage.
Our children and grands are grown; our parents are all deceased
Our primary responsibilities to others have long-since ceased.

We have freedom to plan adventures without concern for others,
And enjoy each others' antics like carefree sisters and brothers.
While it is true that I still long for the sweetness of baby slobbers,
I wouldn't trade the memories we're making for any of the others.

This is the joy of having our lives led by our Holiest Spirits;
The Voice is free to whisper and shout until we are able to hear it.
Some hear the Voice in church, others walking in the woods;
We know that it is The Sacred when it leads us to share in good.

So paint me a purple tree, if this is what your soul sees;
Kick a speeding soccer ball as hard as you may please;
Twirl like a whirling dervish, if it helps you to express
Your passionate gratitude through which we are all blessed.

The Throne in Her Home

I have probably offended some who believe it is sacrilege to have scripture next to a toilet.
Knowing my friend, she'll share Christianity wherever she can get anyone to quietly sit.
She seems to find joy in all the parts of the circles in life, probably even in defecation;
The beginnings, the middles, the end products are all opportunities for celebration.

This is a woman who talks to her plants and feeds them homemade compost.
All who are loved by her are sure that they are certainly loved the most.
She's a teacher with a sense of personal joy whenever any student "gets" it.
Who'd have ever thought that her serenity and my seeking would be a good fit?

Her faith is like breadcrumbs left along her life's circuitous path;
She always seems quite sure that we'll finally "get" it, at last.
Who else would have thought to leave theology next to "the throne?"
This is one of the ever-joyful surprises in visiting her home.

Why Did "God" Make Me?

While at friend's house, I observed next to her guest room toilet, a compilation of quotes from the writings of C.S. Lewis. I have never been able to get into C.S. Lewis, as his writings always seemed to me so out of touch with the world of dirty diapers and other realities in which sexual, physical beings live. I didn't have a lot of time to peruse his words of monkish wisdom, but I absorbed an entry where he contended that we are made, not to love God, but for God to love us. This is in direct opposition to what I was taught as a pre-Vatican II Roman Catholic kid.

The Roman Catholic Baltimore Catechism that I had to memorize before I could receive "The Body of Christ" in Holy Communion, stated unequivocally, "God made me to show His goodness, for me to know Him, to love Him, and to serve Him in this world, and to make me happy with Him in the next." How can these two diametrically opposed viewpoints both be called Christian?

Can any two interpretations of our mission on earth be more different? We want to believe that all "others" are not our neighbors or our "brothers", and yet we don't take the time to really know each other.  Perhaps we should stop and ask people their meaning of their "God" before we assume we're in agreement (or disagreement). Or even better, watch them to see how they exemplify their special gift of being made in God's image and we'll see who they see as their God.

I became interested in the definition of the word theology after reading this and speaking with her husband who has taught classes in the subject. This led me to research the many names by which people of different times and faiths refer to "God." In Judeo-Christian theology alone, there are hundreds of sacred names for "God." The Koran has ninety-nine names for the same Abrahamic Divine Being as Judeo-Christians worship. It seems obvious to me that The Divine appears differently to different people at different times. What I look for in others is responsible compassion; then I feel like I am looking into the face of Divine Light.

My friend has said that it makes her sad that she and I don't share a same language for our beliefs. She and I share our commitment to responsible compassion in action. Isn't this enough to make us sisters in The Spirit?

After Christmas Crash

All the emotion stirred up by the condensed good-will of "The Holidays" is enough to make me crazy. I feel like there's an electric current constantly running through my heart and head, and no grounding of grandchildren to absorb the extra energy. Where does one put the love when there are no little ones to hold?

I thought that I had done so well this Christmas, limiting our gift giving to only those with whom we have an active relationship, and carefully spacing our events with downtime in between them. I felt good about seeing other families with starry-eyed children taking photos in front of the casino Christmas display. I was at peace with leaving our son's family gift on his stepmother's doorstep to be given to him and his family when he arrived at their family Christmas celebration. I vicariously enjoyed our daughter's family Christmas through facebook and phone calls. Richard and I are still in love. What could make for a better season of gratitude for our blessings?

It all came tumbling together during the day after. The friend I've had for longer than any other lost her next-door-neighbor to suicide by drug overdose on the day before Christmas Eve. His fiance lost her husband last April and is being put out of her home by her former step-daughter. My friend is a yoga instructor, which gives her a source of great inner peace, but the studio is closed for the holidays. We spent the morning comforting each other over a buffet breakfast. It is so nice to have somebody who has known our hearts since before we went to grade school.

On the way home from breakfast, I heard from my son's stepmother. She regaled me with what a wonderful Christmas her family had at her beautiful waterfront home, in front of her fireplace, with the many generations all together in celebration. I was thrilled for all of them and was salivating over her description of the Beef Wellington her oldest son had made. As an aside, she mentioned that my son's family gift from us was mistakenly given to somebody else. My visions of their surprise and joy when they were opening it were dashed.

The bulkhead began to crack in the car on the way to shop for tomatoes for Richard's sandwiches I fix him for lunch at his beloved PT boat. When Richard got home from the boat, I calmly explained the phone call from my son's stepmother, and my wonderful knight in shining armor simply went over to her house to retrieve the unwrapped gift. Meanwhile, I heard from my sister-in-law calling from Austria and a very good friend that I haven't seen in a couple of years who is coming to town in a week. My emotional boat had become overloaded and taking on too much water. I was quickly sinking. I had to bail out some of that ballast. By the time Richard returned, I simply couldn't stop sobbing.

Bless his compassionate heart, he re-wrapped and re-delivered the gift without a word about how unreasonable I was being. Love doesn't have a reason, and I wish people didn't save up so much for such a short, intense season.