Category: mothers

Truth on a Higher Plane

The above picture is my mother, nee Ruth Gleason, on her high school graduation day, a picture I had never seen, but was tucked away in all her stuff. The second is a ruby ring I made for her, also tucked away. I will now wear it as a reminder to think positive thoughts…about her and try to understand her., and me, I guess

It’s been a minute. Today is Mother’s Day, and while my mother is safe at her new residence, she is still so angry at all of us that the director there requested a no contact put in place for all of her children until she settles in so they don’t have to move her to a facility that deals with overly combative patients, especially since her delusions are still very front and center she still refuses to take the medications that will help her brain. While continuing to purge my mother’s apartment yesterday, my sisters and I were talking about how sad we were not to send flowers or visit her on Mother’s Day, (regardless of our feelings, we have never missed a one), I suggested we buy a beautiful plant and card that was simply signed: “Happy Mother’s Day, from all of us”. That way she could believe what ever she needed to, as to who sent it, and would put a smile on her face. I do want her to have a happy day, and whether or not I think it is true, she is proud to be a mother and grandmother, and I was taught to honor my parents. There is a post I wrote about my father before he passed that is quite popular, and I suddenly wondered what I would write when Ruth passed. It will be difficult, because I won’t be that person who waxes philosophically, full of platitudes simply because the moment requires me to say nice things, we never had that kind of relationship. But, I also know that all evolution is predicated on what went before us and to a large significance, I am who I am because of her. She is a gifted woman…intelligent, social, hard working, passionate about justice, and very committed to her Catholic faith. As I mentioned, my siblings and I have been clearing out my mother’s apartment, and oh my…the accumulation of stuff she has is mind boggling. I actually thought we had taken care of much of it when we cleared out my parents house and sold it almost a decade ago. She had boxes in storage that she hasn’t touched in a decade, with the demand that we keep them after she was gone (like every card she has ever received). My first thought was that she did this to remind us that she was popular, regardless of, well, whatever. All this (including about a thousand selfie-style pictures of she and my dad in random places), which to me felt like a true reflection of her life and treasure, went to recycling, because for the most part, they meant nothing to anyone else, but her. The furniture and decorations will be donated. There were a few things left that my brother and sisters all shared, and were things I’m positive she wouldn’t understand why they held any meaning for us like her high school graduation picture, or the ruby ring I made for her (because mostly they were packed away in boxes in her storage unit and not in a place where she could enjoy them). Anyway, it led me to today’s post, and I don’t say this lightly; truth on a higher plane can’t be rooted in the kind of figments of our imagination that supersede the truth of the life that we actually live, and what still lies ahead. While my hope is that once she settles in, my mother will be able to share in the love that her children have always had for her when we visit…if not, the truth of her life will become, like scripture taught us, a clanging gong or symbol and there isn’t anything I can do about that. She is worthy of love, and her life was filled with interesting things, and this post is in no way meant to disparage her, but to be a lesson for both of us on how to precede forward. So what about truth for the rest of us?

As I have shared in an earlier post, Teilhard saw the universe as an “unfinished” creation, moving toward greater complexity and consciousness. He also viewed truth not as a static dogma, but as an evolving, unified reality where science and faith converge. As a priest and a scientist, he believed that evolution is the process by which God culminates in a “Christ” consciousness (the Omega Point) that integrates all scientific and spiritual truth. He had no problem seeing that a search for truth was to be a joyful active exploration of an often time messy, yet vital potential of God’s creation, which was controversial at the time, given how obsessed the church was with original sin and the true nature of God…which Jesus showed us was love, love, love. He also believed that what I now call living on a higher plane (the Noosphere for Teilhard) truth itself is not static, but evolving and has two criteria: coherence and fecundity (consistent, logical integration of diverse elements that result in a productive expression of fruitfulness).

Jesus taught us that the Kingdom of Heaven is not of this world, therefore truth does not come from earthly systems or power structures, but a higher spiritual realm and that truth brings freedom, not just from sin, but from the limitations of deception, fear, and human insecurity that are often imposed by human systems and power structures. Life with Christ is depicted as a higher plane characterized by overflowing forgiveness, unconditional love, and spiritual guidance rather than just physical reality laid in front of us. This is where truth on a higher plane can be difficult…because it is the foundation of bringing into existence, the intuited belief, hope and enduring love that we hold in our hearts. It is manifesting an evolving global creation that integrates all our creative connections and personal gifts/paths that are a productive expression of the Body of Christ, rooted in a love that hopes all things, believes all things, endures all things and never fails. What that exactly looks like is largely left up to how we, collectively, decide to define and live it. And like the relationship with my aging mother, there is a lot of reflection left for me to do that is necessary to find the goodness and truth necessary to evolve forward.

I also feel inclined to add that on my social media feeds, my algorithms have developed to show me things that I enjoy, make me laugh, are instructive, am passionate and feel deeply about, there is also a lot of garbage passing through that is completely contrary to any thing that even remotely interests or excites me, and is actually deeply offensive (true to the nature of the nooshere that includes both good and bad). To this, I am reminded of a dream I had last year when while looking for my car, I found a woman standing in front of it smugly holding my keys toward me in her outstretched hand, and I screamed in her face to give me back my motherfucking keys, that I was going to change the world’s weather (butterfly effect). I grabbed the keys from her hand, loving the surprised expression on her face and drove away, fast with music blaring. Regardless of the bullshit passing as truth about me that exists out there in cyber world…I will never be appropriated into something I am not. I am unequivocal about that…and how I choose to love and live my truth on a higher plane is mine, and mine alone and no one can change that…it is simply how truth on a higher plane works. No one will ever stand in the way of that. Love’s expressions, when we let it lead and drive our movement forward, and not society, or the liars that lie, or those rooted in fear, will help truth evolve for each of us and enrich all our lives on a higher plane.

Celebrating Moms

Mary RichmondIMG_2281IMG_2276IMG_2275I’ve recently had the opportunity to go on a quest for my parents, both of whom are the youngest in their families, to rediscover the past before their memories fade. Based on the information I was given, it’s been a priviledge to be introduced to all those amazing people who came before me. Since it is almost mother’s day and my upcoming empty nest, I thought I would focus on the women in my past first. My father’s paternal grandmother was left with 12 children to run a farm in Janesville Wisconsin after Typhoid took her husband as a result of a doomed trip back to Ireland to procure money from a wealthy brother (which failed, by the way).  My great, great grandmother on my mother’s side, gave birth to 12 children, but by the time she was 43, only six of them had survived. She and her husband had emigrated from Ireland during the potato famine in 1886 and I haven’t been able to find out what happened to them yet. I had another great grandmother who, after her husband died at 38, moved in along with her four children into her oldest brother’s home, who also housed another widowed sister with a new born, and their aging parents. Sadly, my grandmother in that same line lost her husband early as well when my mother was only 12 years old and had to move into her oldest brother’s home.

I am humbled by these women.  I used to think of all the struggles of having kids in the modern world, with juggling sports schedules, camps, homework, play dates and school activities with going to law-school and running a business and believe that my life was so much more demanding than my forebears because life was so much simpler back then. What a crock!  Looking back at their lives, I realize now how cushy mine is. I hope next time I sit down with a glass of wine around my pool and even think about whining about hard my life is, they find a way to pull a big tree branch back and slap me upside the head. My life is easier because of the hard life they lived. I promise not to forget that…even in the middle of crazy town.

These women fought to survive in often the most difficult conditions, most were uneducated and beginning with my great grandparents were all first generation United States citizens. They truly had taken the road less travelled, and for all their hardship and struggle, established a lineage to which I am eternally greatful.  These women have shed a new light on personality traits many of which I have perhaps have been irritated by and never truly appreciated.  I see now that these qualities were essential ingredients in a recipe for, not only survival, but to thrive and build on an American dream. I hope that those who have passed are content and happy with the fruits of their labors. I know I am more greatful today as I look at the blessings that I have, to their strength and courage.