Resentments

Sad to say but lately I have been carrying around some resentments.  It's an onerous load and I don't enjoy it.  As the song says "Heavy are the satchels full of anger and false promise.   May we find the strength to put them down."

It does take strength to put down resentments.  I feel so justified in having them.  I didn't deserve what happened.  It wasn't fair.

All this may be true, but it doe me no good to carry anger in my heart.

I stop for a moment  and listen to Spring outside.  The birds are singing to one another and building nests.   The cats ears are twitching, I think they'd like to play with the birds.  The view from my window is a beautiful flowering tree (I don't know what type it is, but it's lovely and pink).  All this wonderment of the world, just waiting for me to notice.

I don't notice the beauty when I am holding anger.  My attention is on the anger.

Also, there is the twelve step program:  it encourages me to stop and see what I have contributed to a situation that invites me to keep anger close.   Now, I really don't want to examine my part.  I want to be the innocent.  I want to be the Good Guy.   I sure don't want to take any responsibility for some of the ugliness.

But if I want to grow, if I don't want to be in the same situation again, I need to see my part.  I can't change if I don't see what needs changing.

Drat!

Crickets & Cats

Even though it is not quite the middle of Feb., Spring has come to my part of the world.  I can tell by the number of dead crickets that have been lovingly left as offerings by grateful felines.  The cats delight in bringing me proof of their expertise in hunting.  They expect to be praised and petted, and they are not disappointed.

I have nothing against crickets.  In fact, I rather like them.  I love listening to their songs at night.  When I come upon one in my yard, I marvel at their beauty, both in color and in design.  The clean arch of their jump as they leap to safer grounds fills me with Awe.  When I find a dead one, I feel sad for the cricket, but glad for the cat.

My life is blessed with 6 wonderful cats: three are golden, two are grey and white, one is a water-colored calico.  All are precious children of the Earth, of God, if you will.  So are the crickets.  They too are precious children of this Earth.  As am I.  As are you.

Beauty is not always something you can put into words, you can only experience it.  The beauty of cricket-song is a blessing for those who stay awake as the darkness falls.  It is comforting.  It says all is right with the world.  

Yes, I am aware that too many crickets can devastate a crop.  To experience beauty is not to be blind to other aspects of it.  I love storms, for instance.  Yet storms can be highly destructive.  But somethings about the wind whipping about, the darkness gathering, the sound of the trees and grass bowing to the power of the storm, all that makes my blood sing.  It calls to something primordial in me.

Cats too, have their destructive side.  They are mighty hunters and for someone like myself, who tries to reverence all forms of life, it can be disconcerting to see a cat bring home a frightened mouse as a gift for me.  All I can do is praise the cat while I try to catch the mouse to set it outside before the cats can get at it again.

Yet when all the cats (and the dogs) are curled up in bed with me, all I can feel is the beauty of them.  All I can hear is the song of their purr.  All I can see is their grace.  

I am blessed by having them in my life, both the cats, and the crickets.

Feeling Sorry for God

Sometimes I feel sorry for God.  I mean, it must be terribly boring to have to listen to the same complains or requests from so many folks.  Myself?  When I talk with God it is usually the same old thing.  I’m no different than anyone else.

Sometimes I try to think of something a little different, just so that it’s worth His/Her time to listen, but I never come up with anything really original.

I figure God gets more complaints than Kudos, which is kinda a shame.  I mean, there’s so much good stuff in the world, but we seldom notice or give credit.

Myself, I love moss.  It’s tiny and compact, and absolutely beautiful.  Every time I see moss, I think of faeries dancing on it.  Yet how often to I remember to thank  God for such beauty?  Almost never.  Shame on me.

Or books.  I do love reading.  And so many authors are so creative.  They take me away to all sorts of marvelous places.  The novels introduce me to people and places I’d never go to on my own.  The non-fiction often inspires me to try something new, an idea, an art tip, a new gardening way, whatever.  Straight History fascinates me too—all the research that goes into it, the people who have gone before.   Yet how often do I thank God for Guttenberg?  Or the creativity of the authors?  Again, almost never.  (even e-books owe their beginnings to Guttenberg)

Frankly, I like my own creativity and the pleasure I get from writing or doing my art.  I ought to thank somebody for that.

So I apologize to God.  For my distractedness in not noticing the good stuff, for my forgetting to compliment Him/Her

I’ll try to do better.

So what is the purpose of this Blog?

Well, being disabled proposes many challenges.  One of the hardest for me is to have any meaning or value in my life.  Why live?  What am I good for?

Most of my life I have been wrestling with that very question. Even before the disability.  And now, shut away from people and in very little contact with the outside world, what is it that I can give?  What worth is my life?

That perhaps is the answer to ‘why blog?’.  By blogging, I am reaching out.  Whom am I reaching out to?  To anyone that wants to read it.  To anyone who wants to hear what I have to say.  Who know?  You might see something you recognize in yourself.   You may even be working on some of the same questions. 

You may have something to say that I need to hear.

This blog will be about art, politics, spirituality and small reflections.  Sometimes there will be stories.

As with most Blogs, I am reaching out, trying to connect.  I believe this is something we all need.   I believe that humans, touching other humans, is the most powerful force in this world.  And it is our greatest hope for Peace.

I do not expect that this blog will be consistent, since I am not.   I hope to write often, but make no rash promises as to how often that may be.  Hopefully, it will amuse.  Hopefully, it might help to explain things.  Hopefully it will allow you to see things in a different light.  And hopefully, sometimes it will make you think.

And I hope that sometimes, it will be a dialogue, not just a soliloquy.  I invite you to comment freely.  Please,  invite me to think or to see things in a different light.   Your wisdom is irreplaceable and I may need to hear it.

All I ask is that we treat each other with respect, even when we do not agree.

Why Blog ? Pt 1

Why Blog?  That is the question.  Whether  ‘tis nobler in the mind . . . . . er, no.  Getting started on entirely the wrong foot here.

Rather the question I need to know, for myself, is why write this blog?  What is the purpose?

To answer that, I have to be clear about some aspects of myself.

- First off, I am an American, a country that is not living up to what it can or should be.  I do mean to say that we are the worst country in the world: we are not.  But we have wasted our potential, who we could be.  I fear that we may be in the twilight of our golden age.  It saddens me, because in spite of our flaws, I do love this country.

- I am female in a family that valued it’s daughters as much as its sons.

- I am an ordained minister.  I have served 5 congregations over the course of the years.  I am not a Christian, although I have a profound and deep respect for the teachings of Jesus.  But I see value in many different paths.  I see the sense in Atheism, although I am a theist.  I think the most honest Theological stance is Agnosticism, although I am not one.

- I am an animal lover.  All my life (except for about a week and a half, 8 years ago) I have lived with a number of animals.   I once had a pet fly who came when she was called.   Except for ticks and fleas, I pretty much like all critters.  As of right now, I live with three dogs and 6 cats.  I also like the human animal (usually).

- I am a mystic.

- I am an artist.

- I am disabled and housebound (bedridden) most of the time.

- I have no family that is involved in any way in any part of my life.

- By American standards, I am very poor.

- By my standards, I am wealthy beyond measure.

It was another beautiful day again, soft cool breezes but not actually cold, even though it is winter here. I am so grateful to have my tiny home and my animals and my human friends as well.

I was reminded again this morning of how very fortunate I am in my friends.  I've always had excellent taste in people and my friends are stellar individuals, folks I am proud to know, folks I am proud to introduce to others.  Some people think I am attracted to difficult people, and perhaps I am, but they are worth it.  They may be difficult, but they are honest, trustworthy and true.

Today could have been ugly, because of things going on in my life, but instead it was a wonderful day, because a friend decided to pick me up  and taek me on some errands.
Simple thoughtfulness.  No big deal, no earth-shaking acts, just small gestures that said that she cared, without ever using the words.

I am blessed.  I hope to pass it on.

May you do the same.

102 years old

                                                                Clay Zentangle    5" by 7"

Well, the New Year is no longer quite so new.  It is more than half past the first month.  I am already used to writing the new year (2012) on my checks.

Tomorrow (Jan 20th) is a special day for me.  It will be my mother's 102 birthday -- if she were still alive. She remembered the end of  the Great War.  Sadly she was also around when they had to change the name of the war to World War I.  She and Papa were married in the midst of the Great Depression and had two sons before the beginning of  WWII.  She remembered the first time she saw an automobile and the first time she heard radio.  She remembered the first time she ever went up in a plane.  She lived long enough to see Mankind land on the moon -- twice.

It is from my mother that I get my love of reading, my poor eyesight and my bone structure.  It is from here that I got my love of stories and love for animals.  And it is from my mother that I got a deep and practical sense of awe at the universe.

Mother taught me to live my values (She certainly lived hers) and to practice kindness (she was better at that than I am).

In my lifetime, I have accomplished a few small things that I am proud of.  But if I have done so, it is because I stand on the shoulders of giants.  My mother was a quiet, loving, gentle Giant with a heart that encompassed all of creation.

I bow my head to her.