New Identities

Thinking about reasons for needing another person or animal, a separate entity which is breathing, alive and in our life space. Surely worthiness exists even if no one else acknowledges/notices our presence? From that, if our feelings do not matter to anyone or anything else, or our ideas and thoughts remain invalidated . . . that is, they are not radiated back to us from anywhere outside our own heads . . . why bother?

Being. What exactly IS it? Going about the daily life routine . . . arising in the morning, or whenever we do it - getting clean and dressed, to whatever extent we feel presentable . . . are we applying hair dressing, spray, or makeup, or smoothing wrinkles in our shirts or skirts? Do we wear khakis or wool? What matters - to us or to our audiences?

Coordinating . . . who is going to school, what is needed? What is the Plan for today? Have the pets been fed, watered, walked? Did anyone throw up anywhere? Who must be picked up at what time and why? Looking all right, are we? Hair in place, purse/wallet containing licenses, etc. with us? Is everyone doing everything possible to make our routines smooth and trouble-free? If not, have we expressed ourselves as to this lack of cooperation?

Entering our vehicles (most of us do this . . . a few pockets of resistance to oil consumption exist, no doubt minorities) absentmindedly turn the key and expect to be on the move - we drive furiously . . . somewhere. Amid traffic, fumes, highway chaos. Excitement? Action? Listening to music, inspirational tapes, however our true hearts need to be lulled, within the time frame available.

Find a parking space, time is of the essence. Getting about the business of our lives. Thinking about . . . what needs to be done, expectations, demands, chores, work. Losing ourselves to find ourselves.

So, WHO are we really? A clear picture we would love and treasure at all times . . . can we see it?

Truth Quests

Much has been, and will be, written and spoken in regard to questing for truth. The whole truth, real truth, truth in general. If truth must be perceived, 'finding' that historically elusive state of being . . . identifying it . . . living in peace with it, could prove to be merely an exercise in comparison. Truth, in fact, IS. Now, before ideas that it surely must be something more. Simply and completely put, truth just IS. Longing for changes . . . vague, uncomfortable beliefs and hopes that surely the truth MAY - MUST - be different continues to befuddle us. Desired changes will more smoothly move into place with a life canvas of serene quietness . . . knowledge that everything as it currently exists . . . is right. Each movement is a brushstroke. See and feel its bright color, its textures and light energy.

It may be that what is . . . current perception of our lives, states of being, families, finances, living conditions, relationships . . . does not satisfy us. Those situations, whatever they are at a given time, do not please. Therefore, a search for actual truth . . . with an eye toward utopia, a blissful, desired nirvana in which all will be beautiful, comfortable, heavenly . . . if you will. Buddhists and Hindus believe that eliminating desire leads there. Desire for change, for difference. ANY desire which contradicts or compares in any way what IS with what we WISH to exist. Christians know of heaven with streets of gold and total absence of responsibility.

So, not realizing that desire for difference or comparison of what is with what we might want could actually be truth’s obstruction . . . also having created our very own personal distressed, thwarted state of mind . . . searching for truth seems the only path to take.

Know the truth, and the truth shall set you free. Conditions of discomfort and frustration belie truth's presence. Truth is always present; failure to understand this fact naturally stymies peace and happiness. Mystifying ourselves with our own misconceptions necessarily confounds a happy present.

Quests for real truth must begin with ability to realize desire. Blocking, hindering, or otherwise obstructing realities may momentarily amaze us, baffle others, bedevil a prevailing notion, befuddle our minds, or result in total bewilderment.

Why over-complicate a concept which is not at all complex? When quests for truth become perplexing snarls of vague notions and unanswerable questions . . . the very act of searching for it becomes the true focus. Truth is here - now.

Positive Affirmation

Thomas Troward, in 'The Creative Process In The Individual' said: "The Principle of Life must of necessity be Affirmative, and affirmative throughout, without any negative anywhere -- if we once realize this we shall be able to unmask the enemy and silence his guns." He continues with " . . . to do this is precisely the one object of the Bible; and it does it in a thoroughly logical manner, always leading on to the ultimate result by successive links of cause and effect."

Troward goes on to describe: " . . . good and well-meaning people with a limited idea which they read into the Bible, preliminary to Resurrection. They grasp, of course the great central idea that Perfected Man possesses a joyous immortal Life permeating spirit, soul and body; but they relegate it to some dim and distant future, entirely disconnected from the present law of our being, not seeing that if we are to have eternal life it must necessarily be involved in some principle which is eternal, and therefore existing, at any rate latently, at the present moment. Hence though their fundamental principle is true, they are all the time mentally limiting it, and consequently the principle will work (as principles always do) in accordance with the conditions provided for its action" . . . .

We recognize 'affirmative' as positive, optimistic, true. In all human relationships, personal, communal, or worldwide, making attempts to shift someone else's perspective arises frequently - while raising children, teaching, arguing one's point in a courtroom, negotiating the terms of a contract, rallying in regard to a political matter. Allowing oneself to be consumed with righteous indignation in regard to any point of view becomes some kind of key toxic variable in any conflict. Why not attempt to have a perspective, share that perspective, and be comfortable with the fact that others have a different view? Is it not possible to state clearly and believe in our own ideas without becoming autonomically aroused enough to fling verbal insults at someone whose opinion or appearance is different, commit retaliatory acts of vandalism, or publicly ridicule or attack others? Are these behaviors not negatively driven?

What then drives us to create, to work, to make an ethical mark on the world - in our families or our communities our classrooms? Peace and love? Tolerance? Awareness? Presence of mind?

Conceptually, most of us realize that optimistic, positive truth serves well in every situation. We know that peaceful mediation frequently solves differences of opinion. Before indulging in any negative expression, judgmental or otherwise, quietly consider facts already in evidence, and, understanding that truth does not exist only in the mind's eye, proceed toward an affirmative solution. Understanding that truth is not from thoughts, but in perspective . . . is a difficult to describe but workable construct, having elements of feelings and thoughts and attitude. The perspective results from framing reality. And reality responds. That's the truth.

Maintaining a positive perspective? Tricky business, indeed. A change in thinking will not necessarily work. Frequently, REAL feelings and thoughts are stuffed or diverted or ignored. They are still there -- decisions to acknowledge only some thoughts and feelings can make the avoidance of real ones stronger. Then, having no conscious realization that they exist, everything in our worlds may be set up and changed. Quickly, chaos and negativity are present, and how is this possible? We had decided to be affirmatively joyous!

Modern day gurus and enlightenment speakers admonish being fully present in the moment, feeling the body and its feelings, observe and allow, without becoming those. In other words, allowing whatever conditioned garbage is there to BE without stuffing or diverting. Taking a deep breath and coming from a place of love for and acceptance of everything - even the sad parts which are creating the negativity in our lives. Not sympathy or anger or even empathy for those parts. Just presence and the knowledge that WE ARE NOT SIMPLY OUR STORIES. Each day is an unwritten page. What ensues in our lives is always created in this subtle, amorphous place of perspective.

Divine Murder

Many patriotic e-mail messages go around, replete with poignant photos of military personnel and their tireless dedication to the task at hand, along with admonitions to never break the process, lest it dishonor the dead and fighting living, this messaging compliance ostensibly illustrating and proving that divine sanctions from God are dictating all war efforts and the killing (both 'enemy lives' and our own) which is taking place, and this must never be forgotten. This mindless forwarding is taking more and more thinking people over a small edge, having nothing at all to do with dishonoring the unfortunate men and women who have died or been mutilated in any war effort.

While reading these extremely dramatic directives, viewing the photos, carefully chosen to enhance the idea of the message, thoughts must occur that perhaps God hasn't personally authorized or endorsed all war; that is, maybe it isn't about God at all. Just men, deciding that for some reason (economic or otherwise) warring on someone is advisable, and convincing the public of this is necessary. Defense is often the reason given and fear becomes the motivator; threats of an outside group doing harm to U.S. citizens get quick and emotional results, especially when there is an act of terrorism which kills a group of Americans. However, America seems to be doing more to Americans (huge taxation, punitive action against the tax-paying public constantly, hounding the populace for more money which is then largely squandered by those who receive it; spending huge amounts of tax dollars in the form of legal process 'investigating' random companies and individuals who have committed and gotten away with their crimes because our own government looked the other way and many times were actually aware of or even involved in the coverups; making everything we do within this American life more and more difficult) than to our enemies. Those who are required to fight must believe that what they are doing is divine. It's just difficult to swallow it all whole anymore . . . no resemblance to anything spiritual or God-driven. More like waste and maybe even misdirection. Does it look like God is pleased with us? Not the way our lives are currently going in this nation. It's thought-provoking.

The safety of any group of people, community, country, or otherwise, is important. Defending a way of life, children, accomplishments achieved as a nation, a government; establishing a freedom from perpetration of any hurtful evil (inside or outside borders) is prudent. Billions of dollars and much effort is expended on same. Should any military 'take on' another country's government, its culturally determined way of life? And how could the group of people who are responsible for determining whether or not to do this assume that their actions are sanctioned by their deity? When reading of the Incas, the Mayans, and other violent cultures which offered human sacrifices in bloody rituals to their gods, how is it that modern parallels seem to be invisible?

Consider carefully before clicking 'forward' - it seems at least reasonable.

True Value

Like the name of the popular retail establishment, true value is understood to mean quality -- the best, above average. Oscar Wilde once said "A cynic is a man who knows the price of everything and the value of nothing." What do we really know of value? Awakening each morning to the natural music of birds, seeing the look of wonder and delight on a child's face who touches the nose of a calf for the first time, watching the seasons change from a window of your home, understanding the life patterns of this earth and its inhabitants, and that all of us have a place in that cycle. We have done absolutely nothing except be born to deserve all this, and we need do nothing but grow mindful to appreciate it. It can be difficult to remind ourselves of this quiet essence of all that lives. Some are such masters of growing things -- it seems that these artists of the earth could plant an umbrella and in due time find little umbrellas growing. Beautiful, nourishing gardens, flowering shrubs, fruit trees, blooms of all descriptions are creativity in its purest form. Though paintings are wonderful and art of all kinds translates into languages understandable to all, the creation of living plants which in turn sustain our lives is essential, actual value. It is no accident that many beautiful words have been written in gardens, or that descriptions of the earth and nature, that creation of the master artist, are so plentiful. Somewhere among all that we possess is the truest of all gifts -- we need not even consider price -- it is ours. Mathematical symbols denoting quantity, or for assessing cost are useful for transferring goods and services . . . let us never confuse price with true value.

Addiction

Unfamiliarity with addiction doesn’t protect anyone. Initially, when faced with it, first comes hopeful reasoning. Something ‘set it off’ or ‘caused’ it. Just look the other way, everything will get back to normal sooner or later. When the addict is a loved one, disruption sends everyone within the life sphere into spirals of coping. Children, especially, are confused and frightened by addictive behavior of one or both parents. They aren’t safe and they know it. They can’t connect with the addict, and they realize that no matter how much love they extend, how much support and care, the addict will not respond positively to them while influenced by the chosen substance. Substance abuse translates into abusive treatment to everyone who comes into contact with the addict. Withdrawal, neglect, cruelty in the form of explosive verbal or physical attacks are common.

Alcohol, drugs (illegal or prescription), tobacco, marijuana, overeating, hoarding, and many more activities and substances can be addictive. Some of these alter mental stability and decision-making more than others, though all result in some type of abuse for those who are subjected to interaction with the addict. Alcohol is a common, deadly addiction. Because it is legally obtainable and socially acceptable, for long periods of time the fact that overuse is causing problems can be denied or obscured, or that the person who uses it excessively is abusing it, and in turn abusing those around him/her. All sorts of excuses will emerge. No one is fooled, especially the user. This simply buys more time within which to wreak havoc on all lives involved. With everyone else who is around, it’s waiting for the other shoe to drop, constantly.

Addiction is, more than anything else, self-absorbed behavior. When entering into a mentally altered chemical fog, it’s definitely a one-person show. Nothing else matters as much, is as important. It’s an extreme form of withdrawal . . . from everyone, from life. The comfort is within, something like a siren song which can’t be silenced. Another reality, just as familiar and many times more desirable. Many confirmed addicts are newly surprised, each time after returning to sobriety, that any damage has occurred as a result of their actions. Then there may be guilt, contrite apologies, promises of future abstinence, denial, or even defensive anger, which tends to end any meaningful discussion of the problem. The addict frequently does not acknowledge that there IS a problem . . . and transfers any responsibility for these to significant others.

The path to resolution is very simple, albeit harshly drawn. STAY or LEAVE. If it is STAY, all available energy galvanizes around and to the addict. Ultimately, life itself will revolve around whether or not the addict decides to continue to use. There may be treatment centers, meetings, support groups, binges, slow climbs back-on-the-wagon. Life will go on, no one will have illusions, and acceptance will be in order . . . lies, excuses, crisis management. If it is LEAVE, the addict finds that no one wishes to, or will agree to, reside within the altered framework of functioning which has been offered to them. Moving on with life, absent addiction and its patchwork quilt of daily, weekly or monthly fallout, is deemed preferable. Adjustments will be made and living arrangements changed. There is simply no middle ground.

Meaningful Lives

Remembering my grandmothers usually brings to mind crocheting, knitting, hooking, (rugs), quilting, canning, ceramics, painting, sewing, needlepoint and the like. Both of them were born in the mid to late 1890s. My maternal grandmother was skilled at painting ceramics and china, and oil painting. She favored landscapes and flowers, and occasionally depicted different kinds of birds. When refreshing the flowers at the cemetery where she is buried, it is my habit to include a small bird within the bouquet placed there for her. For some reason, it pleases me to think that it would have made her happy. My paternal grandmother made delicious pear preserves, crocheted beautiful and useful items, and gardened. Her camellias were the talk of the neighborhood, as were her rose gardens. She sewed, and made delicate fine cotton doilies with intricate patterns. Her sparkling bright blue eyes and halo of fine white hair are still in my memory so clearly, and though crocheting isn’t one of my talents, her needles still are safely in my possession.

These women took care of so many people. It is doubtful that either of them ever thought of having a manicure or pedicure. Their husbands probably never had the thought of going into the kitchen to prepare food for themselves . . . it was women’s work, not their domain. By the same token, the men took care of the repairs, the vehicles, the animals, and worked to earn the money to run the household. It was the way of things, no one thought anyone was shirking a duty when sticking to responsibilities understood to be theirs. Hunting, fishing, cleaning game, taking care of the guns and ammunition and the lawn were in the male domain, though many women who were left alone learned to accomplish these chores and did them without complaint.

One arose at first light or before, and began organizing the day so that others could eat, go out to work or school, the animals could be fed and watered and the garden weeded, before the heat became too high. Clothes were washed in wringer washers, and it was definitely a bit of work to get laundry done and hang out the clothes to dry, using wooden clothespins, on lines stretching across the yard beside the house. When bringing in the crisp, dry clothes, one had to check carefully so that a wasp or hornet would not be folded within the fabric, and cause an unwelcome and painful surprise. No dryer of today nor any dryer sheet, replete with artificial flower or ‘springtime’ scents, can ever match that fresh, clean scent from sun-dried clothes on the line.

On Sunday, everyone in the house attended Sunday school, morning church service, and evening services. When there was a visiting minister at the church, the ladies took turns providing dinner (which was the noon meal) for the visitor and family. It was a matter of pride to prepare the best dishes, and whatever culinary specialty the ladies claimed, for these dinners. Pork chops, sweet potatoes, roast beef baked in a slow oven with fresh potatoes and carrots from the garden; perfect tomatoes, onions and peppers, green beans and squash, with at least two pies and a cake for dessert. Steaming cornbread with fresh butter, yeast rolls. Pecan, apple, peach, chocolate and lemon meringue pies, coconut, peppermint and banana cake, and homemade boiled custard if it happened to be near Christmas or Thanksgiving. Whisky, usually placed on the table in a small crystal pitcher for ‘flavoring’ in the boiled custard, was notably absent at these church dinners.

The family was the central focus, the home its setting. Seamless in its place of priority for all who belonged, there was no question of challenging its integrity or importance. Everyone just knew. No one expected to be thanked for doing their job. The doing was enough . . . all effort had its own reward. They were doing what needed to done, taking care of their lives and the lives of those with whom they had become connected. My maternal grandmother lived to the late 1970s, and my dad’s mother the early 1980s. During those years, we thought they would be with us forever . . . we gave no thought to losing them. It was a simple time, almost like a dream. Until we arrived at middle age, some of these treasures didn’t surface in our memories. Frequently now, a comfortable feeling of quiet gratefulness floats into mind . . . remembering how quietly these women lived their lives, with dignity, unusual mindfulness and meaning.