"Truth"
It hurts...acually- I think that pain is a good indicator in this regard...
If it hurts- it's probably truth.
I read something this morning that made me say, "OUCH!"
"You have to be willing to opt out of certain relationships in order to give your most important ones the time and attention they require and deserve."
Ugh..."OPT OUT"-
This means choosing to walk away from someone- from a relationship that is dear to you- even if it hurts...for your good, and probably theirs.
And I see that this is truth.
I see that someone has been trying to explain this to me for a while now.
I accept this truth. I see that I need to be focused elsewhere. The slate of my heart needs to be clean~
The problem is that there's something like a pool of cooled lava in one corner- and it's hardened- it's actually become completely attached- and I can't remove it easily-
I'm working on it.
Ouch, ouch, ouch...
Monday, July 16, 2007
Thursday, July 12, 2007
Monday, July 9, 2007
Cognitio
"Getting to know , knowledge"
People are funny creatures.
-
We start out simply enough...having needs and crying until those needs are met.
Then we learn about the joy of play, and laughter, and curiosity.
Ever play peek-a-boo with a 3 month old? Or been covered in kisses by a baby?
-
Or caught a crawler (9 month old) sitting in the bathroom un-spooling all the toilet tissue- and laughing as if it were the funniest thing in the world.
-
Ah- and next there are the lessons in safety and responsibility...
"Don't touch the outlets sweetie...Time to pick up our toys....lets wash our hands before lunch"
And before we know it- we come to understand our world has boundaries, limits, dangers, and consequences for our actions. We learn how to navigate around our needs- how to meet them in better ways than crying, or we simply let some needs go unmet.
We feel, and then analyze how we feel. We question everything...but get few answers. Our decisions are not based on our needs alone, they are based on the needs of everyone around us, and at the end of the day, we've done more for everyone in our circle than we have for ourselves...
And then we wonder why we feel out of sorts, or moody, or even lonely.
We get out of touch with ourselves. We over complicate simple things- like the need to be touched, or held, or just the need to be alone with someone in silence...to feel, inhale, and simply enjoy being in the presence of someone we love. 
A back rub in the dark before he falls asleep-
His hands in my hair, or his fingertips on my cheek-
A kiss on the back of the neck-
All of these places held in reserve for one- and that "one" is too busy, or too tired to claim those places...and the other lets the need go unmet.
Why? Aren't we worth it? Aren't they? How hard is it to say "Hey...I need you!"
How hard is it to say..."I need you to know me"
-
Memento Mori
"Be mindful of dying"
common meaning;
"Remember you are mortal"
One of the books I'm presently reading, "Awakening at Mid-life" had a remarkable passage which stuck with me over the last several days. It said:
(In the Western culture) "We generally fail to appreciate that the boundary of death gives us a sense of purpose and meaning to our life. Too often, the awareness of death can cause us to live with a sense of hopelessness...
On the other hand, the awareness of death can push us to dance with life , to grab it with all the gusto we can. We can live every day in the moment, learn to love without hesitation, become aware of what is truly important to us, and experience ourselves as part of a great cosmic plan."
This idea that we fail to "appreciate the boundary of death" conveys more than our simply embracing each day and being grateful for it- it goes deeper than that. It reveals to me that no amount of energy or time should be spent feeling fretful, or worried about my own death, or the passing of those I love.
I feel that it's almost impossible for me to "appreciate the boundary of death", and yet- I KNOW deep in my heart that this is absolutely the healthiest way to view my own end. I WANT to feel this way- I want to value the finish line, but totally enjoy every moment of the race.
On second thought though...there are reasons why we don't enjoy some moments of the race. Some are painful, frightening, and confusing. There will be days when grief will walk closely with us. There will be times of deep loss, and those times should be respected with our tears and recognition of what can not be replaced. "Grief" is a love word, and in some ways- nothing measures our depth of love more accurately than death.
Sometimes we ourselves don't fully understand how much we loved until that person is gone.
Death is a companion to life, my future holds both, and I know it more now than I ever have. Love is in my future too...and it seems to me that love is the one thing that makes everything else worthwhile- it even gives me a sense of peace about the end...that I will arrive at my own finish line having loved with abandon, and knowing love was returned in kind.
As I end this post today- I want to finish with perhaps a better Latin phrase than the one I started with. The syntax might be wrong- but the right idea will be conveyed...
Memento Animatio
"Be mindful of living"
and
Memento Amororis
"Be mindful of loving"
common meaning;
"Remember you are mortal"
One of the books I'm presently reading, "Awakening at Mid-life" had a remarkable passage which stuck with me over the last several days. It said:
(In the Western culture) "We generally fail to appreciate that the boundary of death gives us a sense of purpose and meaning to our life. Too often, the awareness of death can cause us to live with a sense of hopelessness...
On the other hand, the awareness of death can push us to dance with life , to grab it with all the gusto we can. We can live every day in the moment, learn to love without hesitation, become aware of what is truly important to us, and experience ourselves as part of a great cosmic plan."
This idea that we fail to "appreciate the boundary of death" conveys more than our simply embracing each day and being grateful for it- it goes deeper than that. It reveals to me that no amount of energy or time should be spent feeling fretful, or worried about my own death, or the passing of those I love.I feel that it's almost impossible for me to "appreciate the boundary of death", and yet- I KNOW deep in my heart that this is absolutely the healthiest way to view my own end. I WANT to feel this way- I want to value the finish line, but totally enjoy every moment of the race.
On second thought though...there are reasons why we don't enjoy some moments of the race. Some are painful, frightening, and confusing. There will be days when grief will walk closely with us. There will be times of deep loss, and those times should be respected with our tears and recognition of what can not be replaced. "Grief" is a love word, and in some ways- nothing measures our depth of love more accurately than death.
Sometimes we ourselves don't fully understand how much we loved until that person is gone.
Death is a companion to life, my future holds both, and I know it more now than I ever have. Love is in my future too...and it seems to me that love is the one thing that makes everything else worthwhile- it even gives me a sense of peace about the end...that I will arrive at my own finish line having loved with abandon, and knowing love was returned in kind.
As I end this post today- I want to finish with perhaps a better Latin phrase than the one I started with. The syntax might be wrong- but the right idea will be conveyed...
Memento Animatio
"Be mindful of living"
and
Memento Amororis
"Be mindful of loving"
Sunday, July 8, 2007
Friday, July 6, 2007
Arma Virumque Cano
Arma Virumque Cano
Literal translation- "Arms and the man I sing"
Common meaning- "I tell of wars and a hero"
The topic of "Hero's" came up the other day. I realized, that unlike my parents in their generation- I didn't grow up with many heroes. There was never anyone in particular that I idolized on TV or in the movies. I liked Wonder Woman, but I knew her real name was Linda Carter and that her golden rope of truth was not real, nor were her bullet repelling bracelets. Shazam (sp?) was corny, and the Super Friends were cartoons. My mom and dad, as kids, were swept away by the adventures of Superman and they were invested in him. They read all the comic books, knew everything about him, and they loved him. I was never able to invest that kind of energy or feeling into a character on the big screen or the small one.
I guess the closest I came to admiring a character was Luke Skywalker in Star Wars... who I knew was a guy named Mark Hamil- and lived in California, not some planet with 2 moons.
I like REAL heroes. I was 11 when Ronald Regan was elected President of the US- and I loved him. He was strong, and handsome, and seemed to be a devoted man to his wife and country. I liked the sound of his voice, and the determined way he held his ground in the Cold War...and I grew to hate Communism and socialism because of President Regan. As I look back, I see that he was my first true hero...and he was REAL.
In due time CS Lewis became a hero to me too- but he died about 6 years before I was born. He wasn't a living breathing man I could ever meet, and yet his words- to this day- have a had a profound effect on my life. A hero can change and shape a life like few others can. We can hold them in esteem, emulate them, praise them, and pattern our lives in such a way that would bring our hero recognition and honor- in addition to greatly enhancing our own lives.
However, Mr. Lewis was a humble man- and did not want to be praised- few true heroes do. He was always quick to give any credit that came to him to God. Lewis survived the trenches on the front lines in England during WWI, watched his friends die in combat, and took care of the mother of a friend, a soldier who died, for 30 years...because he promised in the heat of battle that he would.
I know heroes aren't perfect- they have faults, and some have pretty thick armor around their hearts. Some let us in, some hold us at arms length, but they have their reasons for all the things they do. As an adult I have a few new heroes- some are soldiers, some are writers, some and some are gifted speakers. A few of these people I have had the great pleasure of meeting- even being able to get in a hug...and a "thank you"- often with tears in my eyes and a lump in my throat.
Their impact has been deep, and wide- like a meteor that crashes into soft soil- leaving a mark and a trail, long after the rock itself burned up or crumbled away. They've come into my life, said or did what needed to be done, and I let them and I listened.
Some of my heroes I may never encounter again- and some are as close to me as their book tucked in my night stand. For a girl who didn't grow up with many heroes- I have certainly discovered a few along the way- and they are treasures in my life, even if they aren't a part of my day to day living. Their words, ideals, values, and some tiny bit of their character exists in me...
which I think is way better than x-ray vision, or a golden headband boomarang~
Literal translation- "Arms and the man I sing"
Common meaning- "I tell of wars and a hero"
The topic of "Hero's" came up the other day. I realized, that unlike my parents in their generation- I didn't grow up with many heroes. There was never anyone in particular that I idolized on TV or in the movies. I liked Wonder Woman, but I knew her real name was Linda Carter and that her golden rope of truth was not real, nor were her bullet repelling bracelets. Shazam (sp?) was corny, and the Super Friends were cartoons. My mom and dad, as kids, were swept away by the adventures of Superman and they were invested in him. They read all the comic books, knew everything about him, and they loved him. I was never able to invest that kind of energy or feeling into a character on the big screen or the small one.
I guess the closest I came to admiring a character was Luke Skywalker in Star Wars... who I knew was a guy named Mark Hamil- and lived in California, not some planet with 2 moons.
I like REAL heroes. I was 11 when Ronald Regan was elected President of the US- and I loved him. He was strong, and handsome, and seemed to be a devoted man to his wife and country. I liked the sound of his voice, and the determined way he held his ground in the Cold War...and I grew to hate Communism and socialism because of President Regan. As I look back, I see that he was my first true hero...and he was REAL.
In due time CS Lewis became a hero to me too- but he died about 6 years before I was born. He wasn't a living breathing man I could ever meet, and yet his words- to this day- have a had a profound effect on my life. A hero can change and shape a life like few others can. We can hold them in esteem, emulate them, praise them, and pattern our lives in such a way that would bring our hero recognition and honor- in addition to greatly enhancing our own lives.
However, Mr. Lewis was a humble man- and did not want to be praised- few true heroes do. He was always quick to give any credit that came to him to God. Lewis survived the trenches on the front lines in England during WWI, watched his friends die in combat, and took care of the mother of a friend, a soldier who died, for 30 years...because he promised in the heat of battle that he would.
I know heroes aren't perfect- they have faults, and some have pretty thick armor around their hearts. Some let us in, some hold us at arms length, but they have their reasons for all the things they do. As an adult I have a few new heroes- some are soldiers, some are writers, some and some are gifted speakers. A few of these people I have had the great pleasure of meeting- even being able to get in a hug...and a "thank you"- often with tears in my eyes and a lump in my throat.
Their impact has been deep, and wide- like a meteor that crashes into soft soil- leaving a mark and a trail, long after the rock itself burned up or crumbled away. They've come into my life, said or did what needed to be done, and I let them and I listened.
Some of my heroes I may never encounter again- and some are as close to me as their book tucked in my night stand. For a girl who didn't grow up with many heroes- I have certainly discovered a few along the way- and they are treasures in my life, even if they aren't a part of my day to day living. Their words, ideals, values, and some tiny bit of their character exists in me...
which I think is way better than x-ray vision, or a golden headband boomarang~
Tuesday, July 3, 2007
E Pluribus Unum
"Out of many (backgrounds) One nation"
"Many ingredients, one stew"
There was a time in history when our country was a melting pot, right?
Or has time simply washed away the rough edges and the ugliness of the past- when the Irish and the Italians and the Polish folks kept to themselves in lower Manhattan and went about their business. The different cultures might not have immediately agreed to intermix, but no one held a grudge against the other for wanting to make a living. They had all come to America for one reason-
To make a better life for themselves and their families, and most of them did.
Fast forward 50 or 100 years- the Mexicans are still coming to the US for a better way of life, except they don't have to deal with Ellis Island. I can get Italian and Polish food whenever I want it...and the Irish- well, I love a good baked potato every now and then. :) The cultures did eventually intermix and America is a stronger nation because of it, or at least, it was a stronger nation at one time.
There's a dark stranger in our midst...and he doesn't want to intermix at all. He wants to destroy America. Irish, Italian, Polish, Russian, Mexican, Christian, Jew, Catholic- he hates all of us, we are INFIDELS. "Unfaithful"
Unfaithful to what? Our country, our families, our heritage?
Nope...
Unfaithful to "his" religion. A religion most of us can not and will not ever embrace.
The melting pot has something undigestable in it...something foul and deadly...simmering among the people of this country who have fallen asleep at the stove. Someone needs to fish out this deadly thing and cast it into the deepest pit we can find.
America's greatest strength was that she welcomed everyone, and now it's her greatest vulnerability.
Someone...ANYONE- Please put a lid on the melting pot...the stew is no longer safe to consume.
"Many ingredients, one stew"
There was a time in history when our country was a melting pot, right?
Or has time simply washed away the rough edges and the ugliness of the past- when the Irish and the Italians and the Polish folks kept to themselves in lower Manhattan and went about their business. The different cultures might not have immediately agreed to intermix, but no one held a grudge against the other for wanting to make a living. They had all come to America for one reason-
To make a better life for themselves and their families, and most of them did.
Fast forward 50 or 100 years- the Mexicans are still coming to the US for a better way of life, except they don't have to deal with Ellis Island. I can get Italian and Polish food whenever I want it...and the Irish- well, I love a good baked potato every now and then. :) The cultures did eventually intermix and America is a stronger nation because of it, or at least, it was a stronger nation at one time.
There's a dark stranger in our midst...and he doesn't want to intermix at all. He wants to destroy America. Irish, Italian, Polish, Russian, Mexican, Christian, Jew, Catholic- he hates all of us, we are INFIDELS. "Unfaithful"
Unfaithful to what? Our country, our families, our heritage?
Nope...
Unfaithful to "his" religion. A religion most of us can not and will not ever embrace.
The melting pot has something undigestable in it...something foul and deadly...simmering among the people of this country who have fallen asleep at the stove. Someone needs to fish out this deadly thing and cast it into the deepest pit we can find.
America's greatest strength was that she welcomed everyone, and now it's her greatest vulnerability.
Someone...ANYONE- Please put a lid on the melting pot...the stew is no longer safe to consume.
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