So, living in the throes of painful emotions is not fun. One, because I am not good at them or understand them as evidenced by the shit show of the many incarnations I expressed over the last few days, and two, I had to take a moment to stand still to figure things out which I also wasn’t sure I wanted to do either. I simply find it easier, sometimes to just get lost in movement, like I usually do. So, I made a concerted effort to step away and then stand still in my messiness to ponder this: In my desire to wield love, what is my real motivation? Is the reason I am freaking out, that I am wielding it incorrectly? What is it that I want out of it? Am I being manipulative in any way, shape or form? And then, once the dam broke, the whole wellspring of feelings came pouring out all over the place. So, when the flood waters abated (pun intended), what was left exposed was one of my greatest fears, one that was drilled into me by multiple sources who should have known better…that the kind of love I desired and wanted to wield in the world, was not possible unless I changed who I was, because I am impractical and wildly imperfect and have such impossibly high standards and continue to push myself and others to be better relentlessly, or because there was not a person on the planet who could relate to someone so complicated, intense and driven like me, a spiritual whirling dervish, of sorts. Again, this is simply a revelation about what I was told by the most influential sources that surrounded me. And while I am aware that some acted on my behalf, because I know I can be difficult and a handful at times, I had to live with the sound of my soul on mute for a large part of my life, and as an observer that had an incredible effect on how I saw and at times still see the world. It is also the reason that I am so committed to doing whatever I can to help every individual out there know they were made just as God intended and hope no one ever has to live a moment of their lives with their souls on mute. So, for me, it was the appropriate time to acknowledge some difficult truths, that wielding love can never be done partially, with the kind of love I understand easily and am comfortable with, like spiritual love and familial/fraternal love. I have to embrace the scarier types too, because love is the source of a myriad of expressions and not just the ones we are comfortable with. This revelation also helped me understand why it has always been easier for me to embrace the love of an omniscient being who “has” to love me because my “worthiness” or “me-ness” was immaterial to the situation.
The good news is that I did, amongst other emotions, feel peace realizing that my motivation to wield love, while incomplete was propelled by a true desire to help others shine their light in the world, and not to manipulate anyone to my particular point of view, or acceptance of anything I have to offer. The nature of love, which according to my faith is always rooted in qualities that are clearly laid out in and evolved throughout the Old and New Testament only really come to mean anything at all when put into action. The expressions are myriad depending on the individual and the kind of love whether it’s from spiritual love called “agape” which is the highest form of love, to “philia” a brotherly/sisterly love, to “eros” the desire and passion between people in love. While the substance of love is the same for all three, the expressions or how we wield it is not, so I’ve come to understand. And, as I learn to fill in the emotional gaps in my year of faith, in hopes of being more effective and powerful at wielding love in the world, (the lessons of which I choose to keep close to my heart), I have to start with me. I am who I am, just as God has created me to be and am worthy of the kind of love I desire, all of us are, even though I’m not sure what that means at this point. Again, what motivates me is the key, and as I fumble forward anything rooted in fear or old beliefs is unacceptable, so I am, within the framework of my faith, tackling those things that don’t necessarily come easy, but I also know how important understanding love is, so I’m charging up that mountainside.
I also want to state clearly that I know how manipulative the world can be…I see it every day, especially on social media…but like I learned from the story of taming the wood fox in “The Little Prince”, it’s so much harder to be manipulated when the proper rites of establishing ties are followed, and taking the time and having the patience it takes to “waste” time for those you establish ties with is a clear part of the equation…and it is the only way to transform how someone sees a wheat field.
While this topic has been in the forefront pretty much the whole year, honestly, I was afraid to tackle it knowing that when I choose a topic (usually rammed in the front of consciousness) it is often accompanied by a test in real life, so I’ve been avoiding it. But given the last few months, I think I’ve pretty much gone through the gamut, so it doesn’t feel like much of an issue right now. There are so many examples I could use to articulate how pain is inherently tied to my faith development that are deeply personal, and I will keep those closest to my heart. There is one, though, that I feel comfortable sharing because it involves participating in the great gift of creation, and being given the opportunity to celebrate in another of God’s powerful blueprints.
I was finishing my last bike marathon across Iowa, and for some reason I was really being affected by the heat…to the point where I almost fainted a couple of times. Of course, I was confused because the heat has never been an issue with me. I was standing in a cold shower at one of the contracted high schools where we all cleaned up and while doing some math in my head, I suddenly realized that I could be pregnant. While I didn’t say anything, everyone in my group knew about my heat sensitivity and when I started celebrating at the end of the daily ride refusing any alcohol it didn’t take much for them to figure it out. (which Steve was always irritated by because they knew before he did). While I was extremely healthy, I also had the worrisome issue of my spinal fracture and the warning the doctors had given me about carrying a child.
Because I am obsessively diligent, I followed every protocol, but it wasn’t easy. I carried the baby very low, almost below the break in my back, and it wreaked havoc on my pelvis. I even continued to work out and do aerobics classes (much to the chagrin of all the other women in the class who thought I was being reckless). By the time I was ready to deliver I could no longer drive because I couldn’t fit behind the wheel of the car. While I only gained about 20 pounds with my pregnancy, I swear the baby’s feet were pushing straight against my pelvis and their head against my belly. Anyway, long story short, during delivery, my bebe got stuck. My hips are very narrow, and while his head was crowned, their shoulder’s got stuck. Talk about being between a rock and a hard place (Connor was born with the broadest little shoulders I have ever seen…) After 3.5 hours of trying every possible position, including putting a suction cup devise on their head and pulling…two doctors determined they would have to push the baby back in and do a C-section.
During this whole process, I was freakishly calm and in problem solving mode (the nursing staff even made an award they gave me for quietest and calmest difficult delivery ever). Steve brought in Pizza at around hour 2 for people (he is always hungry) to which the doctor and my dad were ready to kill him for (by that time there was a crowd present). So, when the doctors told me what their plan was, I was adamant and told them absolutely not, after all this time I was not going to have a C section (plus the baby’s heart rate was stable). I told the doctor to take a leg, and my sister-in-law to grab the other, and the other doctor to push from behind and we were going to get this baby out. It worked like a charm. There were tons of complications after which I won’t go into, but I do realize that creation is a risky endeavor, especially for me but I knew that God was with me…hence my calm during the process. As I have mentioned prior, this beautiful creation has kept me on my toes my whole life, and the pain of participating in their creation and development was and is a central tenant to my faith development. There are countless other examples in my life where pain, whether it is emotional, physical or spiritual, in hindsight, was a central ingredient to the woman I have grown into, which gives me courage in this moment to weather through whatever is presently laid down on the path in front of me.
There are all sorts of opportunities to be a co-creator with God, even if it is simply manifesting one’s own blueprint, but I will tell you this: it absolutely cannot be done without pain, without effort, without sacrifice, without trial and error, without trusting oneself, and especially without faith, in whatever power of love, or universality you believe in. And when I’ve opined in my prayers at how confusing and hard this time is for me right now, my spiritual helper brought to mind that I need to have the same resolve that I did when I have faced the physical and mental challenges I have weathered, all of which has brought me to a more powerful place. I guess what I’m saying is that I was told to stop being such a melodramatic fucking baby about it and keep moving forward regardless of any emotional pain or discomfort…because I know it’s simply part of the process, one that I will pretty much guarantee will be rooted in wild pendulum swings of emotional upheaval, which is simply a microcosm of where the larger world swings right now too. So, know this…I am still sending out ripples of love outward, in the hopes that whatever pains of growth you are experiencing it will take you to a better place if you embrace it and learn from it.
I wasn’t planning on posting today, but I am in such deep internal conflict, that I felt compelled to respond to well,…I don’t like my words from past posts used against me (which it intuitively feels like, not sure)…even if or when appropriate. It feels passive aggressive and well, more a mechanism to invalidate and pass judgment than appreciate and understand where someone is coming from. While I understand no one can understand a person’s soul, I think I’ve laid mine out pretty consistently here, and regardless of how flawed this journey has been and how damaged I may be, there has been an evolution from older to newer posts…and yet I am still a person of consequence in God’s eyes, and should be treated as such. Kahlil Gibran says that your soul is oftentimes a battlefield, upon which your reason and your judgment wage war against your passion and your appetite, and that neither reason nor passion should rule alone. Reason without passion is confining, while passion without reason is self-destructive. They are the rudder and sails of the soul; both are needed for a controlled journey. I have always taken this to heart because often the greatest conflicts are internal, and as Gibran says, one must constantly treat passion and judgement like two loved guests in your house giving equal honor and attention to both. I try to also take Jesus’ advice to remove the plank from my own eyes before I point out a speck in another’s. Again, while I’m not always successful, I am the painter in this situation, and I always start with my own canvas first.
Even wielding love requires balancing reason, judgement, passion and appetite. And it is pretty obvious that I’ve treated one guest, reason and judgment in my soul better than the passion and appetite and in the attempt to balance them out it may have gotten a bit messy, especially moving into a space that I never intended, expected or understood how completely overwhelming it could be. Gibran also suggests that loving in secret is a way to protect the love itself from the “foolishness” of revealing secrets and the pain that comes from exposure. He advises keeping passion concealed, as it is both a secret and a medicine, and its hidden nature is what protects it, much like hiding troubles can keep you safe. And while I see the wisdom in that from an individual perspective, unfortunately I believe it conflicts with the love that is commanded of us by God. While praying and giving in private may be a mechanism to insure one’s motivations are pure, and to please God, love is not something that is done in secret, but proven by actions, actions that say to the world that no one should be embarrassed by love… in any form. And, as I have alluded to by my vibrant and vivid dreams of being naked all the time, also tells me that hiding love is something none of us can afford to do right now, so I won’t even when I feel cornered by emotions that are completely overwhelming. I will continue to love unequivocally and unencumbered by personal invention and in accordance to my faith, even knowing that it can and will cause me discomfort, awkwardness and at other times elation. So, there is the unvarnished truth that I didn’t want to share…and yet did. I am walking solo in my own shoes forward into a future that is terrifying yet at the same time rooted in the wonderful blueprint that I was born with and a faith that God has a future for me also rooted in joy and not sorrow. Let me conclude with another line from Gibran: let love be a moving sea between the shores of your souls, its seems to fit my particular situation perfectly.
A change in scenery is often a benefit for me when I am stuck in a place where I feel an inability to move anywhere, on any level. So, the chance to go to Louisville Kentucky to experience the bourbon capital of the world and a Jim Gaffigan concert to kickoff of his bourbon tour by a dear friend of Steve’s was a gift from God (even though, honestly, I don’t like bourbon…like AT all). Staying at the amazing 21cMuseum hotel that also housed its own museum of modern art, which I don’t understand but fell in love with anyway, was the perfect context to appreciate and embrace the emotions that I didn’t understand either. Before the trip I prayed that I would be in the moment for every personal interaction and make good eye contact and let the moment itself lead the way. What followed over the next few days, while exhausting and invigorating at the same time, stilled many of my fears about what and how to feel. I simply chose not to control them, and regardless of how awkward I felt about what the “right” thing to do was, or put any particular name or parameter on them, I just felt what I felt and let my heart guide whatever came out of my mouth (which for someone as cerebral as I am, was a bit like riding a bike with a blindfold on). It wasn’t always perfect, but it was true and honest, which I guess is the best that I could ask for.
I had amazing encounters, for example, I loved the trans concierge who I made sure to keep eye contact with while we bonded over funny stories. She was “obsessed” with my eyelashes and couldn’t believe they were real, told me stories about her ex and the Green Bay Packers and I showed her my latest painting and then asked if I could take her picture because I wanted to paint her. I’m not sure if she believed me, but I got her contact info and look forward to the surprise she will receive someday soon. There was also a moment when I was able to with a look and a give heart gesture with my thumbs because I didn’t know what else to do to give comfort to a server who dropped a whole tray of glassware at the bar and had the wherewithal to ask first if everyone was ok, and was so upset she had to leave the area, but not before I flashed her what hopefully was my sign of been there done that and don’t worry about it. She smiled, though, in a real way…so maybe it helped. I chose, specifically, to make eye contact with the doorman, and thank him for all the great info he gave us about Louisville and oh the smile that lit up his face! I focused on all the staff at the distilleries and restaurants who served us and thanked them personally (because you know they all wear name tags). I think I freaked a few of them out…but the fact that I had to use my umbrella after a while for a cane because my hip was literally killing me from all the standing and the walking we did made me seem a little less, well, weird, I guess. I think there are a lot of people in the world who go about their day doing hard work for others who never get noticed and I made it a personal commitment to notice everyone I had contact with. And it was lovely, and yet, because you know there will always be another side…I was also forced to acknowledge that no amount of training will change the reality that my other hip was clearly coming to a point of no return and would need replacing…like soon. So, amidst the pain of everything emotional, the pain of the physical was right there too but in a weird way it put me in the perfect place to deal with my emotional weakness. Pain seems to have a way of keeping me from faking anything…at all. As an aside, my last hip replacement was a dream, I walked out after less than 24 hours, with just a cane, and was pretty much back to normal after just a few weeks (which is also when Steve nearly killed himself in a bike race). And who knows, maybe there is another mountain or cliff to climb in my future…always good to have goals, right?
The weird thing about letting my heart do the walking and the talking on this trip is that it is also when I felt most deeply that letting go of control, of trying to choreograph what something is “supposed” to look like is when I felt the power of God, of love the most deeply. I want to be very careful here, because I’ve heard plenty of tales of “love made me do it” as a way to justify behavior and other kinds of bullshit, and that isn’t what I’m saying at all. What I am trying to say, however inarticulately, that while I understand cognitively what love means to me, as the force and power that propels me forward from a standpoint of belief, I also needed to allow “it” to be what actually moved me, in whatever form it needed to take without my own baggage getting in the way of it, especially without my interpretation of the what the “rightness” of it should look like. I hope this isn’t too confusing but simply saying that I learned to let go and let God seemed too trivial and stupid, for all the upheaval it has caused me. While I have not completely let go of all the compartmentalized crap I’ve held onto for so long, I have moved beyond it to hopefully a freedom to trust my own heart and allow it to feel what it feels and trust that it will be in accordance with what God requires of me.
I did continue to have trouble sleeping. In the quiet the feelings I avoid would manifest themselves quite powerfully leaving me in a puddle much of the time…but that’s all I’ll say about that. The good news is I never felt alone, ever, but just needed to “let go and let God”, as it were (plus Steve sleeps like the dead so I didn’t have to worry about keeping him awake).
All in all, the trip was incredible, with great restaurants and distillery tours and tastings, and especially the Jim Gaffigan concert, and being able to attend his after party. I don’t think I’ve laughed that long and hard for a very long time. Who knew Louisville and learning to become bourbon forward would help me have faith in living in the moment, but it did.
Because of a headfirst plunge into paralyzing emotional discomfort, which on this journey I shouldn’t be surprised by but constantly am (like Charlie Brown is when he continues to believe Lucy’s promises that she won’t pull the football at the last minute just as he tries to kick it, and which she continues to do every time) I’ve found solace in focusing on simple tasks, gestures and daily regimens to help me cope and keep moving forward when all I want to do is to shut up and shut down. So, I clean, (nothing more grounding than cleaning a toilet and being reminded that no one is above getting their hands dirty), do clinic paperwork, cook, paint, work out, perform the general repair of broken things in my small world and pray pretty much all day. Let me begin by saying that I would rather endure extreme challenges physically, mentally, and spiritually than deal with the emotional upheaval of feelings that this journey has thrown in my face as of late. Emotions I cannot avoid, if this journey is to mean anything at all…feelings that have been deeply compartmentalized because they are so rooted in fear and trauma that, at the time, were simply a method I used to survive, and now all I feel is anger which has begun to leak out everywhere, hence the reason for this lesson I suppose. In truth, emotions are not my superpower; I am not good at them and feel completely lost when in order to continue to move forward, I must face and become more adept at what I’m weakest at, most importantly because in order to become more adept at them you have to actually engage with other people to do so.
At this point, it feels like a lot of the time everyone else is speaking a different language fluently that I do not understand leaving me with limited comprehension and confused having only a rudimentary understanding to help me fumble through, or a game that everyone plays all the time, which everyone knows the rules to except me. Yes, that sounds extreme, but it’s taken a lifetime for me to learn how to navigate through and around emotions and if I’m being honest, learned particularly to fake my way through when I don’t know what else to do. God will have none of that right now though, which in time I suppose I will appreciate like I have every other lesson along the way, but for now? I FUCKING HATE IT. It feels like being required to sing a beautiful aria or perform a complicated dance when you know that you absolutely don’t have the requisite skill at the moment to do so even adequately. The message that keeps me awake at night is this: “Easier is not better, you can’t fake your way around the depth of feelings you have if you want to wield love in this world.” Needless to say, my spiritual voice and I are not on speaking terms at the moment…And as an aside, for all of you who feel that emotions are your superpower, I ask you to look at the one thing in your life you are terrible at (come on, we all have them, so step out of your denial) and focus on that for the purposes of this post.
I know Jesus experienced deep emotions, joy, mercy, compassion, love, anger, sorrow, despair and so many more. And these teachings have been the basis for much of my emotional and spiritual intelligence to date. Except I am not Jesus, and I am not a man. The “man” part was so weird for me to admit to because I have spent much of my life proving I am as good as a man, but not so much embracing the feelings of being a woman that make me demonstrably different. And I know I am demonstrably different and perhaps have been in denial about that. Let me be clear, though, embracing my difference does not in any way subordinate me inherently to men out there, especially for those I choose to love. I say that because of the growing sense of misogyny that exists, which I believe is perpetuated by small insecure men (and not in the quote from Ephesians 5 that is woefully taken out of context). But for the sake of my experience at the moment, the spiritual acuity I’ve developed isn’t helpful, in that while it is foundational, it won’t help me understand why I do what I do or feel what I feel in the messy human way that is required of me right now. If wielding love effectively is my goal, then, I think, the dream I had so long ago about being asked to venture into hell is an appropriate place for me to start. A caveat…I wear an oblong black aventurine around my neck at all times as a protection and reminder of a particular symbol of this dream, and I also a wear a symbol of the alpha and omega as a reminder that God is always with me. Needless to say, I have been clutching them a lot lately.
While I will never go into particulars of how I learn this lesson, the nature of cyber space being the predominant reason, (Whether it is because I inspire negative feelings, which is not my intent, or because many of you are fucking mean) please know that I am diligently working on facing what I’m weakest at. Having come so far on this journey, I can’t stop now (and because I secretly believe this lesson came so late in the process so I wouldn’t quit now that I’ve come so far and am so close to whatever conclusion is a result of this journey). I will cope by immersing myself in simple things and promising to face every personal interaction that comes my way, whether I like it or not. And I also promise to continue my prayers and sending ripples of love out into the world…knowing that God will augment my imperfect human heart with a love greater than any of us can know.
The above picture is my “what the actual f*ck” face, in response to a nightmare I had last night. I took the above picture at my worst, with no makeup, bad lighting, sweaty after a workout to say I would rather people remember me like this, at my WORST than HOW I was represented in my dream last night….
I was in a room with a huge crowd of people that I do not know engaging in behavior that was different depending on the person interacting with me…and it was GOD AWFULL. It was as if my person had been appropriated and I kept wanting to scream out the person who was not me’s mouth and say “THIS IS NOT ME! I WOULD NEVER DO THAT, SAY THAT, OR ACT LIKE THAT! I literally woke up saying “that is not me.” I felt so nauseated that I fumbled my way to the bathroom. It took more than a minute to settle down and wonder what the actual fuck freaked me out so bad. I’ve been misjudged or misunderstood a lot my whole life…so what was behind my reaction? I came to the conclusion that it all has to do with the faith people put in their own observations…many of which, given the amorphous nature of cyber space, are in truth wholly inaccurate but because of how advanced the kind of fakery and manipulation of information has become out there, and how easily and quickly it can disseminate to others I worry about the impact on how we perceive any person, place or thing is having on the world we live in. And for me as observer? I am left with the very sorry feeling that things are going to get worse before they get better
What my last post was supposed to be about when speaking of walking in my own shoes, removed from any particular role I’ve played in the past, was to hone and purify my observations as I move along my future path. I have spent a lifetime looking into the impact that an observer has on shaping the reality of our world…and with the invention of the internet, AI, and access to millions we can literally “create” a sense of reality that is observable and feels real and yet is completely fabricated…I guess that is what has me freaked out. So let me present the science and power of observation as I understand it…
In the world of quantum the observer, or the means by which āsomethingā is observed, means everything. Its form depends on “how” itās observed. For example, light can exist both as a particle or a wave, depending on how it is observed, which, until quantum physics, was considered impossible. Physicist Werner Heisenberg, gave even more importance to the observer via the uncertainty principle, which states that the exact position and velocity of a particle cannot both be known at the same timeāthe more precisely one value is known, the greater the range of possibilities that exist for the other. Even the act of observing something changes the reality of what is being observed. In the classical view of the universe, science taught that by eliminating subjective influences nature could be revealed as she really was. Quantum physics changed that classical viewpoint by exposing a dichotomy between experienced and un-experienced reality. The idea that the mechanism of observation could actually affect what form matter took forced science into a new paradigm, besides giving great weight to the observer.
The discovery of the wave/particle duality has taken us beyond the limitations of Newtonian physics. There are two levels of reality which can be said to exist: reality as experienced, or as it exists in relation to the observer; and reality that is un-experienced, or as it exists in the absence of an observer (sort of like the old question does a tree falling in a forest make a sound when no one is there to hear it?). Un-experienced reality, then, is reality as it exists before or beyond human experience (perhaps in a dimension beyond height, width, weight, depth and time). Un-experienced reality relates to experiential reality in that it forms the basis or context of experienced reality like an archetype or prototype. The issue that is of central importance to me is the relationship between what is experienced and what is not. Naturally, since human beings, as observers, are confined by certain dimensional and subjective limitations, it would seem obvious that the un-experienced dimension has the greater control over what we perceive. Iām not so sure of that anymore; from my theological background I know the power human beings have to be co-creators of the universe and therefore color every experience with personal meaning. What I have begun to worry about in this age of information overload, is the effect that all the absolutely made-up bullshit out there in cyberspace that looks and feels like it is real but is a complete fabrication will have on the physical and tangible reality we observe every day. I certainly know that it affects how an observer moves in and responds to the world.
I know I’m sounding heady right now, but with the plethora of examples of false information out there and the actual impact it has made on individual observers can’t be dismissed. I think all this falsehood has shaped our physical reality more dangerously than we will ever know. And I also think there are plenty of evil people out there who know this and have used it to corrupt the goodness that access to information and other people in this world could mean via the internet. Those who control information have the power…which is why Jesus warned us about prophets presenting themselves as wolves in sheep’s clothing. In this age of cyberspace, we all have to be hypervigilant about the truth of what we observe. As I walk forward in my own shoes…I will hone and root what I see and hear in fact not fiction. The dream I had will be a reminder of how easily it is to portray someone in a way that is completely false but feels real, especially when their purpose, like mine, is to wield love and celebrate the true and beautiful blueprint of all God’s people.
I told my son Riley, that when he got married, I was going to get a separate pair of shoes for the reception, so I wouldn’t break myself like I did at the last family wedding. They are comfortable and pretty snazzy if I must say so myself. Metaphorically? I think they clearly represent something else as well. Let me start with this: at this juncture in my life, I am no one’s mother, wife, administrator, fixer, chef, student, teacher, or the multitude of other roles I’ve fulfilled diligently (even if imperfectly) up to now. Nor am I the figment of imagination that exists in the minds of people I have no direct contact with out in cyber world. At this specific moment, I am walking unhindered by any expectations others may have of me in how to proceed forward, which feels pretty blind right now. It’s all new territory, much of which I admit I don’t have any rational grip on yet. I know my heart has been struggling a lot with love trajectories and in trying to get messages and observations out there that are simple, understandable and pure…but that’s not really how life works is it. So, for me, standing alone in my own shoes…I have to figure out how to have faith in my own badass butterfly feet. (This was where I paused my draft…)
And, as it happens…a full day later after I paused this draft…and the timing of which is indisputable proof that a huge lesson was coming my way, shit hit my shoes…
The day started with the deep sadness of losing a patient to suicide, Steve tried to help him overcome autoimmune struggles and a dependence on Benzos..(to treat anxiety and other nervous system diseases). The patient was so kind, and I was a bit of a wreck…which is a perfect time for the darkness to strike. While not going into too much detail, a conversation derailed with another patient, who I clearly believed misunderstood something I said, and in my attempts to explain, it escalated even further. The words got loud, and I got him back to a room, but also refused to be chastised for starting “something” which I admit, got me even more riled up (and yes, it could have been my ego). When the patient was leaving, he wanted to continue his outrage, and I directed and followed him outside. Thinking it was time to transform into my badass butterfly, I yelled too, refusing to succumb to his description of the conversation and challenging him on gaslighting…which was the wrong thing to say, and it riled him up further. As the shouting match became untenable, I said that we should stop, and I had to get back to work (plus I was visibly shaking by this point). Once I got inside, a patient grabbed me and hugged me. I apologized, and tried to slow down my breathing.
As I went back to my desk, I saw outside our window that the police had come and stopped the patient from leaving. I didn’t think, I just walked outside and greeted the police and told them that I was the other party that was engaged in the very loud argument. I wanted them to see I was ok. I tried to mitigate the situation by explaining the shouting match by putting my hand on the patient’s shoulder and saying that it was just a heated conversation that got out of hand and apologized for breaching the peace. I guess a couple people called from the parking lot (we share it with a grocery store). I showed them my ID, and went on my way. They stayed in the parking lot, this guy giving a speech for about a half hour. I didn’t care what he said, because I should have figured out early on that he really didn’t care about anything I had to say at all. Since it was lunch time, I made my way to the fitness club where I work out during lunch. Still shaking, it took me an hour of hard work to settle down.
Being a badass butterfly, didn’t feel the same as it did in my dream. The emotions storming through me were too tumultuous at the time and I felt exhausted, defeated, incompetent in wielding love that I so confidently preach about. Thankfully, my older brother settled me down when I called him (thanks John…I love you) and helped to focus my effort to stand up for myself in my own solitary shoes, the emotions already surfacing from tragedy, and that even though I was acting from goodness, I can’t control the results, and the phrase from the Little Prince about words being the source of misunderstanding suddenly popped into my head. And most importantly? I am imperfect and have to learn from the situation. After lunch, I went to the two suites that surround us to apologize for the unprofessional argument only to hear that they were truly worried about me, this little woman standing while a man screamed in her face (I screamed too, but I get the physical imbalance of the situation). There was no swearing, no name calling, just me standing against what I felt was an unjust portrayal of “what I meant, and what I actually said” and in all honesty, that was all I cared about…my own clarification. Perhaps I am just being naive again, while I never thought I would be harmed, none of those in the other offices felt that way and stood on guard to help if anything happened.
Wielding love, at that moment was hard and for my part was an abject failure. I don’t have a security team, or popular presence showering me with adulation like so many people who are in the spotlight fighting against hate and violence or simply celebrating their beautiful blueprints with the world. And while I know that all situations have their difficulties, I sympathize with all the small lights out there who are walking alone in just their own shoes and trying to be a presence of love in the world. There are so many examples of how overwhelmed people are at this time in history, and every action can fuel the flames or give them a reason to hope. I am sad, humbled, and at the same time in awe of the strength I showed in the moment. I also realize, however, walking in my solitary shoes is harder than I thought and that I need love sent my way too, so trajectories? please send some my way….
When Jesus sent out his disciples and gave them authority over unclean spirits and to cure every disease and illness, he did it with very specific instructions. The full context is the 10th chapter of Matthew; I will share a few highlights.
As you go, make this proclamation: ‘The kingdom of heaven is at hand.’
Cure the sick, raise the dead, cleanse lepers, drive out demons. Without cost you have received; without cost you are to give.
Do not take gold or silver or copper for your belts; no sack for the journey, or a second tunic, or sandals, or walking stick. The laborer deserves his keep.
Whatever town or village you enter, look for a worthy person in it, and stay there until you leave.
As you enter a house, wish it peace.
If the house is worthy, let your peace come upon it; if not, let your peace return to you.
Whoever will not receive you or listen to your words – go outside that house or town and shake the dust from your feet.
He said this because not only were they acting on behalf of Jesus, they were doing so because it was not for their own elevation or edification, but for Gods, and everyone they helped or healed should be immediately aware on whose authority they acted upon. Jesus also knew that there would be plenty of opposition to the words and actions they would be bringing to the “lost sheep of the houses of Israel” Jesus knew that the people of God had swayed far from what was necessary to bring forth the Kingdom of Heaven, and he wanted them to be prepared:
Behold, I am sending you like sheep in the midst of wolves; so be shrewd as serpents and simple as doves. But beware of people, for they will hand you over to courts and scourge you in their synagogues, and you will be led before governors and kings for my sake as a witness before them and the pagans. When they hand you over, do not worry about how you are to speak or what you are to say. You will be given at that moment what you are to say. For it will not be you who speak but the Spirit of your Father speaking through you. Brother or sister will hand over brother or sister to death, and the father or mother their child; children will rise up against parents and have them put to death. You will be hated by all because of my name, but whoever endures to the end will be saved. When they persecute you in one town, flee to another. Amen, I say to you, you will not finish the towns of Israel before the Son of Man comes. No disciple is above their teacher, no slave above their master.
I used to be worried and confused about this part of Jesus message, but as a precursor to what actually happened throughout the history of Christianity’s movement in the world, it’s pretty accurate. Jesus knew there would be those who contorted his teachings to their own edification and power structures, and wanted to make clear that the disciples should not be afraid of them:
Therefore do not be afraid of them. Nothing is concealed that will not be revealed, nor secret that will not be known. What I say to you in the darkness, speak in the light; what you hear whispered, proclaim on the housetops. And do not be afraid of those who kill the body but cannot kill the soul; rather, be afraid of the one who can destroy both soul and body in Gehenna. Are not two sparrows sold for a small coin? Yet not one of them falls to the ground without your Father’s knowledge. Even all the hairs of your head are counted. So do not be afraid; you are worth more than many sparrows. Everyone who acknowledges me before others I will acknowledge before my heavenly Father. But whoever denies me before others, I will deny before my heavenly Father. Do not think that I have come to bring peace upon the earth. I have come to bring not peace but the sword.
I think we should all pause, especially in this day and age where there is a growing war with who controls the Word of God, and how it can be weaponized as a tool for the darkness. If you preach hate against any member of the body, you are not speaking for God, if you preach superior status in any way, you are not speaking for God, if you preach exclusivity and reject anyone, you deny the premise that all people are of consequence and you do not act on God’s behalf, and if your actions are rooted in fear, anger, hatred, judgment, and chaos, you do not act for God. If your actions reject forgiveness, and embrace violence, you do not act for God. You cannot kill sin or the sinner, that isn’t how Heaven’s sword works. I think we need to remember the power and energy of Heaven’s sword…is the power of love. Jesus says this poignantly in the gospel of Luke:
How can you say to your brother or sister, ‘Brother, sister, let me remove that splinter in your eye,’ when you do not even notice the wooden beam in your own eye? You hypocrite! Remove the wooden beam from your eye first; then you will see clearly to remove the splinter in your sister or brother’s eye. A good tree does not bear rotten fruit, nor does a rotten tree bear good fruit. For every tree is known by its own fruit. For people do not pick figs from thornbushes, nor do they gather grapes from brambles. A good person out of the store of goodness in their heart produces good, but an evil person out of a store of evil produces evil; for from the fullness of the heart the mouth speaks. Why do you call me, ‘Lord, Lord,’ but not do what I command? I will show you what someone is like who comes to me, listens to my words, and acts on them. That one is like a person building a house, who dug deeply and laid the foundation on rock; when the flood came, the river burst against that house but could not shake it because it had been well built. But the one who listens and does not act is like a person who built a house on the ground without a foundation. When the river burst against it, it collapsed at once and was completely destroyed.”
If you truly read scripture, it isn’t difficult to understand how we are expected to behave as a follower of Christ, its laid out pretty clearly. So, in moving forward, like when the disciples were first sent out, HOW you move forward as a follower of Christ couldn’t be more important. In large ways and small, trusting that God will be present in every word and action if you pray out of the store of goodness in you heart, God will be there. After his death and resurrection, when Jesus sent the disciples out and they were worried about their authority moving forward without his physical presence, he told them simply this: They will know you are my disciples by how you love one another. It doesn’t get any simpler than that. I don’t need to stand out on a street corner and proselytize (that is not to say if you feel called to do so you shouldn’t), it is by my simple and yet consistent actions of love that mark me as a follower of the Savior. And I personally believe that actions speak louder than words.
Throughout my entire life I have faced scrutiny and judgement about the actions and words I speak on behalf of God, especially regarding this particular journey of mine and how often my ideas seem to run contrary to the structures who believe only they speak on behalf of God, as a result, I’ve become much stronger at letting go of how those structures can limit or harm me. Because in every daily prayer I make, I trust that the Lord lets me know what it is I need to say and that it will be God’s love as I understand it through the teachings of Jesus that moves me, and that as a result I will remain precious to him. This does not mean that I am placing an imprimatur on my actions and the words I say and write, because I know how fallible and imperfect I am, but that it is my genuine and honest request to God for whom I am a whisperer, that all I say and do comes from a source of goodness and love in my heart that will endure until the end.
The woman sat quietly on a rock facing blowing sands of the desert as a guide approached her. “You’re new,” she said.
He sat beside her and asked, “How are the love trajectories going?”
“Is that meant to be sarcastic?” she replied, immediately irritated.
“Perhaps, a bit,” he replied, “it feels a bit silly and naive” he added.
“What is that supposed to mean?” she said.
Well,” he said cautiously, “I think you are focusing on the more frivolous aspects of, what do you call them, ‘ripples of love’…
“Hmm, there is nothing frivolous about any kind of love, especially when I know that the song of my heart rings true, and I will not allow anyone, even you to make commentary on it. Thats not why I am here, and you know it.” She felt suddenly cold but knew the moment she set in motion had arrived.
“Ok, he replied, “Then why are we here?”
“Why should I tell you, isn’t it your job to instruct me?” She turned to face him.
He laughed and said, “Come on, I have been present in your life all along, you know the sound of my heart, you should be able to guess pretty accurately by now”
To which she responded, “Oh Serpent, we both know you don’t even have a heart”
Taken off guard, he said “What did you call me?”
She responded quietly, “Yes its true, you have been present in my life all along. You were there in every trauma, every obstacle, and every attempt to break me.”
Shifting quickly, he said: “Yes I have, especially in that faulty human structure of yours, the challenges, of which I am particularly proud to have thrown you off your game…I must say you have functionally allowed me to place limits on you in so many ways.”
“Once again, serpent, you’ve completely misread the situation” the woman challenged back, “While I don’t know how much of your hand was involved in my broken spine, the autoimmune diseases, or damage from accidents, you completely fail to understand how the grace I received transformed all those challenges, no, transformed me into the defier of odds, a beneficiary of strength I never would have known otherwise.” She said with a growing confidence that comes with saying it out loud.
“And yet I’m telling you; it will only crush you in the end.” He said, in a way only a serpent could.
The woman didn’t miss a beat, “You’ve said that before through the doctors who told me early on, that without the surgery, I would never carry children, and I had two, they said I would be walking with a walker by 40, and I’ve ridden my bike hundreds of miles across this country, camped out and hiked, sailed, climbed and learned to adapt to dietary restrictions, and health practices to curb my anxiety and focused on my brain and went to law school, and tried a host of other ways to pivot your attempts to break my spirit, my blueprint. You’ve stolen my smile three times, and three times, I did every protocol, and my smile came back. You have plagued me but never broken me. I’ve never taken an illicit drug, or painkiller ever, and I have embraced every necessary health regimen to be as normal as possible.” The woman looked directly into the serpent’s subtle shift in expression, “Your smirk is misguided! I have become something so much more and I celebrate my tenacity, strength and adaptability, so let me tell you, your threats of my demise are as empty as your soul, they do nothing but inspire me to work harder!”
His tone, becoming more ominous, said: “Celebrate all you like. You are but an insect, whom I simply enjoy torturing. What have you called our dance? Death of a thousand cuts?”
Laughing, she turned to him and said “An insect can also wreak havoc too serpent, look at any pandemic in history! It seems you don’t recognize the sound of my heart, after all. While you have received my sad message of taking a beat to stay intact as I wrote this post, know that it was simply a ruse to lure you here by feigning weakness, it dawned on me that sound, one you will never hear allows me to move beyond you, and around your machinations.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”, the serpent replied, “While you are correct that I don’t have a heart, I can feel the vibrations of your pathetic human heart caught in fantasies of sending out trajectories, fantasies of wielding love and bringing light into the world, which in truth, carry no greater weight than a spec of sand in the face of billions, and you think your sorry attempts matter at all? Right now, I am grooming multitudes into monsters, who will maim and kill and there is nothing you can do about it.
“Yes, it’s true…I’ve seen your latest handiwork at the Catholic School I know so well, Serpent”, the woman said in a slow condescending manner, “But please note, however, mine is not just a singular heart anymore, I am Eve, the first sinner, I am also Mary, the first saved…”
Showing a hint of irritation for the first time, the serpent, now in his true form said “So you figured it out, tread carefully woman, I too knew you before you were born, I tempted you to fall the first time, I will do it again”
“Oh, I’m not finished” the woman said, “I have come to learn, and to understand, and be transformed by a multitude of hearts that have crossed my path in a myriad of ways.” The woman turned quietly and said fiercely, “Though you can’t feel my heart, serpent, know that it is no longer just a frail human one shrouded in innocence and fear, it is augmented by His heart, His love, His gift of grace along with studying a millennia of your game playing and tricks, which, by the way, have more than blessed me with opportunities to find goodness in whatever you placed in my path this time around and I have become even stronger. So, hear me now, I am God’s whisperer, and I am not afraid of you or your chaos”
“As it stands whisperer” the serpent responded, “I can make it so no one will ever hear you again. I can make it so you become a joke, a woman who is delusional, a person of no consequence.”
“While you may try, and its true I am just a small woman whose great accomplishment is her simple persistent presence in the world, the multitude of experiences and interactions I have had in the world is clear evidence of the contrary. And remember the most important axiom of the Savior, all people are of consequence, faith as small as a mustard seed can move mountains, and love never fails.” the woman continued, “And in all truth serpent, while you always focus on the big flashy picture, and the buildup of powerful tyrants and devastating wars, I, and others like me, have appreciated the power of the movement of butterfly wings to affect the future. I never needed to be big and powerful, although my path put me in the presence of some pretty powerful trajectories, just to see how at their core they are no more powerful a force than I am. The ripples of love already unleashed in the world in simple and ordinary ways are shining brightly in a manner that you can’t even begin to recognize…and you won’t because you don’t really know the sound of my heart, God’s heart, or anyone else’s heart out for that matter. The sound of those hearts is a chorus of love, the songs of their souls, the manifestation of the heavenly blueprint they were made to be and are shining their light in both simple and dramatic ways at this very moment, thus creating not just ripples, but tides of love, that you can’t possibly stop. I know this because you would need a heart to hear it, to feel it, and you would need to know the vibration of the sound of love, and how powerful it has become but you can’t. You may be the purveyor of lies, the Father of smoke screens, but those are temporary illusions at best and will not hold beyond the temporary chaos they create. The momentum has already begun; the tide is turning.”
The Serpent became angry and ominous and got in her face and spit out his final words “I will continue to bury this world in Chaos, noise and fear, and I will twist the Savior’s words like I have throughout history, and I will rip you and others apart like I have done since you ate that apple in the garden and unleashed sin into the world, and I will celebrate its demise”
Backing a step away, she thought for a moment and whispered: “That is the beauty of being just a small, ‘insignificant’ speck, one of many, we have, together, already defeated you. When Jesus died, and before he rose, he broke the walls of hell. You have relied on lies to cover this truth up, but they will no longer hold. The war has already been won with his sacrifice. What is left is each individual choice to receive his grace, to believe they are worthy of it. In this, I will succeed, because I have prayed for it, and if you know anything about His promises, anything asked for in goodness, shall be given to me” She paused and took a deep breath and said with authority, “Oh, and He asked me to tell you this: “You have lost the bet serpent, there is nowhere my love can’t reach. She is mine and I will be there for her, and when she calls me, I will answer,” She stepped back and looked into the void that were his eyes and felt calm and completely unafraid and said, “so let me add my message as well, a favorite quote from the priest and scientist Teilhard de Chardin, whose rhythm also beats in my heart: ‘Someday, after mastering the winds, the waves, the tides and gravity, we shall harness for God the energies of love, and then, for a second time in the history of the world, humanity will have discovered fire.’ And just so you don’t forget, let me repeat myself, though I may be small and seemingly insignificant in your plot, I have prayed for and sent out love to support the initial conditions of a multitude of beautiful blueprints God has created everywhere for decades, so we together, can take this newly discovered fire, this harnessed love and wield it in our world. Your biggest mistake was disregarding the simple movement of a butterfly’s wings, or the power of a mustard seed. Trajectories have expanded, the seeds of love have taken root, and their lights are shining bright. With God together we will wield love and bring the Kingdom to fruition.”
The serpent stood silent before her. She took a deep breath and said: “You tire me serpent…I brought you here to tell you that I am no longer afraid of you and the havoc you have brought into my life, you cannot and will not hurt me anymore. God won’t allow it, because I finally see myself clearly enough to have already asked Him not to allow it. God is unequivocal, Love is unequivocal, and now I am unequivocal. In every step forward, I am fire, harnessing love and sending it out without restrictions, without limits, fully and without fear with a deep abiding faith that in each and every visual light I see and prayerful whisper I release to every person I send it to, is a love strong enough to shape weather and move mountains. A love that is a seal on my arm, a seal on my heart, stronger than death and one that never fails. So, yes I will continue to send out ‘my trajectories of love,’ as you call them, and once they are received and it cracks open souls like it has mine, they will do the same, and begin to affect the world as only love can do and together we shall unleash the powerful blueprints we were all called to be, in all their myriad of colors and expressions.” She looked up to where the serpent began to dissipate and said, “And always remember, there is no place anywhere, even in hell where the love of God can’t reach.”
There is an appointed time for everything, and a time for every affair under the heavens. A time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plant, and a time to uproot the plant. A time to kill, and a time to heal; a time to tear down, and a time to build. A time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance. A time to scatter stones, and a time to gather them; a time to embrace, and a time to be far from embraces. A time to seek, and a time to lose; a time to keep, and a time to cast away. A time to rend, and a time to sew; a time to be silent, and a time to speak. A time to love, and a time to hate; a time of war, and a time of peace
Today I apologize for being cryptic as I share the above quote from Ecclesiastes 3: 1-8. Right now I am working on my next post entitled: Faith and the Serpent, a daunting title, I know. I need the time and space to move ahead in tact, and had a very strong need to explain that. Think of it as my experience in the desert like Jesus did facing challenges and temptations. I may be quiet for a bit, but forging through whatever is necessary. A good thought or two my way would be good.
Then the LORD said, “Go outside and stand on the mountain before the LORD; the LORD will be passing by.” A strong and heavy wind was rending the mountains and crushing rocks before the LORD – but the LORD was not in the wind. After the wind there was an earthquake – but the LORD was not in the earthquake. After the earthquake there was fire – but the LORD was not in the fire. After the fire there was a tiny whispering sound. When he heard this, Elijah hid his face in his cloak and went and stood at the entrance of the cave. A voice said to him, “Elijah, why are you here?”
The above verse came to me the other night when I woke up just after 1 a.m. and I saw a light under my bedroom door, I thought “why is he still up?” I got up, went downstairs and I realized that Steve had already gone to bed, but this little lamp was left on…which literally hasn’t been on for more than two years. (I used it when Steve was confined to the living room after his accident, and I had to wake him up to give him medication and take care of the commode) When he got up the next morning I asked him about the lamp, and he said he didn’t touch it, it was completely dark when he went up to bed. Of course I wasn’t surprised in the least, given, well, everything lately…but anyway, I digress.
After working zealously for God, Elijah, in fear of his life and with the help of an angel, escaped into the desert and ended up in a cave. He felt alone and defeated especially after all he had accomplished for God, and that was the context of the above quote. Sometimes I think we only give credence to the large and flashy moments that grab our attention as proof there is something powerful and sacred going on, and that God works more powerfully in the miraculous and in the form of powerful humans. While those things certainly can be and are true, I was reminded in the dark, where I sat for a few moments after turning off that stupid lamp, and in quiet silence remembered the verse above. God was not in the wind, the earthquake and the fire, but in a gentle whisper requiring silence in order to hear God.
So, I sat in the dark and quiet and listened. As I become more untethered to form and convention of the world on this journey and the more solitary this road has become the loneliness I feel is becoming more and more palpable. Then my heavenly voice spoke to me and said, “Mary Frances, just be content with being a whisper and all will be well.” And like I do often these days, I cried. I spent so much of my life trying to be the wind, an earthquake or a scorching fire for God because I suppose it was what I thought I was supposed to be doing for God, when actually, all those “things” led me here, to be in a place where I am comfortable, for once, not being a movement or a force to be reckoned with (although don’t get me wrong, I am still and will always be a badass butterfly), I am content with being a whisper, sending out love and hope, in the form of words, prayers, art and simple actions.
A final caveat…during COVID, when my eldest got a job outside of Chicago, they sent me a link to a song from the 1975’s “You know the sound of my heart” They meant it as a loving gesture, thankful that someone on the planet knew their heart and they found great strength in that. I believe the same goes for all of you out there, I hope you know the sound of my heart, and that, in the rhythm of its small whisper brings you joy.
I changed my mind; I think this summer’s lessons will indeed kill me. I woke up last night at what I would swear was a less than gentle shove, and an overwhelming feeling of too many things at once, an emotional drowning, of sorts, like I could barely breath, and I wasn’t sure if it was due to a dream or something else. My first response was completely cranky, why now, why in the middle of the night? I’m tired of being so tired all the time. So, I do what I always do and got up and made some lavender tea and worked on a new painting I started. On ruminating on the said shove, my first thoughts were the weight we give human convention, or the kind of weight we give social matters or social rules of conduct, the kind that almost choke us to death. I think the overwhelming feeling I woke up with was how the weight of these human constructions we feel compelled to follow limit our ability to move and bring our gifts to the world, especially when we get so confused as to what the appropriate behavior we are supposed to adopt actually is as we make any movement forward. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not against propriety, civilized culture needs structures to live by. I just struggle with the kind of constructs that never change and never evolve simply because that is the way things have always been done or are “supposed” to be done, as defined by God knows who. Just as human beings and culture evolve, so should our human conventions. Like a choreographed dance without love, human social conventions that restrict one’s innate gifts and trajectory into the world have to at some point be redefined too. If you get so stuck into shrouding yourself in a certain propriety just to become acceptable to society or behave in a way as a simple means to an end that you desire, you might just lose who you really were meant to be in the first place (you know those initial conditions I spoke about).
The challenge is balancing the tension that exists between the convention itself and whether it helps an individual, group, or state, evolve or completely inhibits necessary growth. Therein lies the problem, when do we put the convention before the individual, and simply make them toe the line? There are plenty of times in the New Testament where social conventions were thrown to the wind, because they no longer served a purpose in helping humans evolve, or were simply corrupted over time. It was one of the reasons the Scribes and Pharisees wanted Jesus out of the way so badly. Paul, too, when bringing the gospel of Jesus to the world, included the gentiles into the fold and didn’t limit his outreach to the Jewish community, which initially created quite the scandal. And yet there are also many examples of human conventions that help an individual evolve into their best selves, like taking care of the weakest of society, the demand Jesus made to not let individuals hide their light under a bushel basket, treating our neighbors how we want to be treated, letting love be the directive to guide you etc. I don’t have much of an issue anymore with antiquated social constructs or those constructs that are defined by groups of people who believe they are the arbiters of a civil society and whose only objective is power, but last night when I was jolted awake, I got a deep feeling that there are other’s that do, others along my trajectory that are struggling. I made a decision at the beginning of this journey of mine that I would no longer accept any human convention that inhibited my ability to live as I was called to live and love the way I am moved to love. If on anyone’s personal journey they have the strength to refuse limitations with arbitrary restrictions on a personal level but yet allow society to impose the same arbitrary kinds of restrictions on you, you still lose. Let love be your guide, we all need to have greater faith in the beautiful blueprint that God created us to be. Breaking down the artifices that you’ve surrounded yourself with that only exist to deem you acceptable to society is never easy, but a necessary part of the journey. There will be sacrifices. Society has a great pull with temptations that can lull anyone into toeing a false line, so just let your heart be your guide. To quote the Little Prince: “What is essential is invisible to the eye, it is only with the heart that one can see rightly”
There is no picture this time, because it is my belief that it would jinx the great possibilities of what is to come….so read on.
I think it was after my dad died in 2016 that my faith in what is to come shifted dramatically towards the negative. Curiously, I would call myself a Pollyanna by nature, but my father, however, used to say it was just naivete. Over time I realized while my optimism was a great gift, when blind and disregarding the glaringly obvious, it is ceased to be a gift and became a millstone around my neck. When I say blind, I have always had a tendency to superimpose my belief and hope in individuals over who they really were and are at any given moment. Seeing potential in someone, or a community or country and seeing who they really are, are two very different things…and it is a bit embarrassing to admit that in the past I had been pretty thick about who or what I believed about the people that surrounded me. The school of hard knocks woke me up to this fact in many blistering ways and I had to learn that as much as I am hard on myself, I had to learn to be hard on others too when they came up short and I was the one left wounded. I know plenty of others have had the same kind of experiences, but since these are my observations, I choose to let the wounds help me evolve, and looking back I am a very slow learner, it would seem. I am also fully aware that I don’t live in a vacuum, I am culpable as well, I’m sure there are those who are disappointed in me too, but what is a bit different for me is that I already walk in the world completely unfiltered, so what you see is what you get, flaws and all, so usually people are just disappointed in me right away. There are plenty of posts beginning with 2017 that deal with truth, lies, power etc. that show a progression of how I tried to move more objectively in the world while trying hard to remain optimistic as well as hold onto the faith I always had in my future path. While those were pretty dark days of the soul, I knew I had to rebuild the foundation in how I moved forward in the world, while often in companionable silence with others (I never talked about it much), I grew to know that my faith in what is to come is ultimately a solitary endeavor, I learned how to rely on myself, and reassess what that looked like for everyone else in my life and shift accordingly.
Which brings me to this moment. I think the years of building and learning hard lessons paved the way for me to walk with cautious optimism into my future. Don’t get me wrong, I think we are living in the biggest shit show of our time, where foundations of culture are rattling against the will of powerful men (not being sexist here, just look around) who just want to be King of the Hill at the expense of the less powerful. I am not blindly optimistic anymore. While I still see and recognize unlimited potential in myself and others, the proof of that is in how you actually walk in the world. I have let go of false limitations that hinder my movement and embrace the fact that while at any given moment, my trajectory may bring me to uncomfortable and scary moments, it may lead me to as many amazing and celebratory ones too. It is simply a consequence of living in a deeply flawed yet beautiful world. And I do trust that God has my back. This quote from Jeremiah 29:11-14 helps me move through the tough moments as well as those that make my heart happy:
For I know well the plans I have in mind for you, says the LORD, plans for your welfare, not for woe! plans to give you a future full of hope. When you call me, when you go to pray to me, I will listen to you. When you look for me, you will find me. Yes, when you seek me with all your heart you will find me with you, says the LORD, and I will change your lot.
I truly believe that God would not have called me to this life to be stymied by it, even when it was by my own flawed sight. But as I have said before, I am limited to four dimensions, but God is not. God’s sees the end of my trajectory, I cannot. I do however know that if my movements are fueled by the deep love in my heart that I can withstand any challenge before me. I do believe God listens, and when I look for Him, for love, I will find him. For the first time in my life, I think I can say with confidence that the older wiser version of my Pollyanna nature is spot on in believing we can have faith in what’s to come.
Put your thinking caps on, this post is a bit heady. So, in chaos theory, a chaotic, or nonlinear system like weather or a singular human’s progression are deeply dependent on the initial conditions of the system’s starting point. Its opposite would be linear systems whose movements are predictable based on limited initial conditions, like the throwing of a ball or movement from A to B in a straight line. A chaotic system is often hard to predict because even the simplest change in a condition when there are a multitude, known as the butterfly effect, can have a dramatic and often times large effect on a future pattern. Unlike its name, however, chaotic systems are not random and when graphed out mathematically like a fractal for instance, are beautiful depictions of beauty and order. It is continued faith in the chaos, that even out of a seemingly randomly placed trajectory merging with another, a sense of pattern and beauty can emerge. Often looking back in hindsight, I have recognized the beauty of a pattern I didn’t even know existed that made the journey so much more worthwhile. In the unfolding of one’s own life pathway, taking time to understand one’s beginning and then supporting those initial conditions (that I believe are gifts from God built into our DNA) regardless of how chaotic they seem at any given point is an important element in learning how to shape and direct them into the future. It is a chess game of sorts, full of careful planning when we begin to recognize patterns and then make moves accordingly. It is the most important work of personal evolution and at times the most difficult, and while we never, ever should assume that chaos by its very nature is bad, but a long-term trajectory of your own butterfly wings it is also true that there is also chaos created in this world whose sole purpose is to act as a weapon against the fruition of your trajectory (which is another way of saying someone is acting against God’s gift of every individual purpose). The chess part is learning to understand when and how chaos can help you and navigate around the crap that hurts you.
When I think about the initial conditions that comprised my journey as a human, there is one that set the tone and tenor of every movement forward for this particular butterfly. At my inception, I was the third child of five. My parents had a two-year-old boy, and an eleven-month-old boy on the day I showed up (also called Irish triplets). During my mother’s pregnancy, there were complications with the RH factor which made it even more stressful. Concerned and fearful my father went to church and offered God a deal. He said if his unborn child were to be born safe and healthy, that the baby would belong to Him. He then told me afterwards, when I was born healthy that I would scream bloody murder whenever he came near me for at least the first six months, a testament to how I felt about this particular arrangement? perhaps. He never told me this story until we were having a conversation about why I chose the career path I did. He sheepishly said that he might have something to do with it and told me the above story. While my dad was a great storyteller, he was a devout man and never suffered fools. For me anyway, at this point, it added some context to the trajectory of my life. Also note, I am not saying in anyway shape or form that I was chosen by God for anything different than anyone else…except to say my dad offered God a deal and once I climbed that mountain that particular initial condition had expanded its trajectory with my own acceptance of said deal. I am also aware that this butterfly had absolutely no idea where the weather would blow, so even in the face of all the naysayers, I just followed the tune in my head and tried to find the order in chaos.
One of the reason’s I think it is so important to contemplate the initial conditions of our individual lives is based on a line in scripture from the book of Jeremiah 1:5:
The word of the LORD came to me thus:
Before I formed you in the womb I knew you, before you were born, I dedicated you, a prophet to the nations I appointed you.
So, what does this mean? Simply, I think it means that God does indeed have a plan for us, that we are all born with all the necessary skills and the appropriate initial conditions to fulfill that plan. I will never say that our lives are predetermined, while there are some that do, I do not subscribe to that idea, because it renders null and void the freedom of choice: that we embraced in the story of Eden, that the reason Jesus came to earth was so we had the choice he presented to each individual, and for human beings to do incredible shitty things to each other. Our human world is flawed, complicated, beautiful and sinful all at the same time, which is why I so readily accept the fact that my limited perspective definitely needs a source of guidance and strength not of the human kind as well as the help of the human kind trajectories of other like-minded individuals on the same kind of journey that have come in contact with mine. It’s also the reason I’ve learned to become a pretty effective cosmic chess player in recognizing what kind of chaos is good and what kind is not.
While you can’t change the past or the initial conditions of who you were called to be, you can take a moment to look inside and figure out and understand what those conditions are and how you’ve helped or hindered your path forward. It is also totally fine, at any given moment to have no idea whatsoever, but please believe that God does. Simply breath, keep moving forward with love and have faith that they will guide you along your way.
Often times, for me anyway, revelation gives way to a feeling of heightened stress and awareness that my boundaries have shifted, and I am no longer comfortably contained. As uncomfortable as that awareness is, I’ve learned over the years to soldier through the discomfort as a natural component of evolution. Perhaps it is why my adrenals are shot, a result of being so constantly uncomfortable, whether it’s attributably a result of not appreciating limits or embracing fully the momentum of exciting movement and not wanting to stop. I guess to my credit I never think or worry about that part much. I have learned to trust, wholeheartedly, in this journey I’m on that wherever it takes me and never resting on my laurels is a necessary part of the process. A process which began, at least most clearly for me on that day in Colorado. It took me a minute to find the photo I took on top of the mountain…and here it is. Old photos don’t give it justice, but I can still see clearly its radiance in my head.
In all my adventures, I’ve learned to appreciate how the world’s imperfections can ultimately evolve into spectacular beauty. As an artist, I love the small imperfections that bring out the beauty in a face, the lopsided curve of a lip, the unusual lilt of an ear, an elongated neck, a scar or unusual eye etc (I have a bright yellow freckle in my left iris which sometimes makes the blue, look green). I’ve been working on pencil drawings of micro expressions on people’s faces that wouldn’t be possible with perfect symmetry, and I so often wish others would see these elements with the depth of beauty that I do. I can tell you this though, had I not evolved in the manner I have, I probably wouldn’t have been able to see them either. Let me tell you about the dream I had the other night that changed my discomfort with expanding my boundaries to complete comfort in not having the need for any at all (which does not mean anarchy by any shape of the imagination, just limitations) …also, if you’re uncomfortable with expletives, there are many, so apologies.
I was in a very crowded place, unfamiliar and with no one I recognized. As it happens in my dreams sometimes, I wasn’t wearing clothes. I wasn’t particularly uncomfortable, except for the notion that it’s not normal to be in a crowded area like I was with no clothes on. Of course, these strangers did notice, and their looks of scrutiny also made it clear that I was the only one sands dress. My response this time, however, was different. Usually, I just move ahead not worrying about it. This time, however, I returned the scrutiny after realizing how many layers and coverings everyone else had on, at least I was hiding nothing, and I suddenly knew that underneath all the subterfuge, they were just as naked and flawed too. I flipped off more than one person in the crowd thinking how stupid they looked and went to look for my car. By the time I got to the street where cars were parked, I was wearing jeans and a T-shirt with a butterfly on it. I couldn’t find my keys, and when I found my car (and it was a beauty), there was a woman in a black suit standing in front of it holding my keys in her outstretched arm with a very smug look on her face (no it wasn’t a shadow form of me, and although I didn’t recognize her I’ll bet I could point her out in a line up). What happened next, NEVER, happens in my dream state. I have never felt such rage in my life, and I stepped within inches of her face and screamed: “Give me back my mother-fucking keys you bitch! You have no idea who you are messing with”. I looked down at my t-shirt at the butterfly there, snatched my keys from her hands and continued to yell: “I’m a goddamned butterfly and though my wings are small, I will change the weather, hell I will move mountains so get out of my fucking way!” (usually, I am the epitome of appropriate, always trying to treat others how I wanted to be treated…which is all fine and good, but this version made me dance a little). Stunned she moved out of my way, and I got in my beautiful car, turned up the music and drove away. God’s honest truth? I thought the lessons of this summer had about broke me. Now? I see it was all worth it. Here’s why.
All my life, I have been compelled to learn, grow, evolve, bear fruit, and to always become a better version of myself. Whether it was due to heavenly guidance, or my own DNA, my small circle of those who have tamed me, or working through my own karma, I have been graced with amazing opportunities to do so. I use the word grace specifically, because it is because of my flawed nature that the gift of grace even has a place in my life to transform my flaws into something beautiful and unique. There is no room for grace in one who refuses to see their own imperfections. Most importantly, without a lifetime of experiences facing obstacles, challenges, and sometimes taking time away to transform in my own personal chrysalis, I never would have turned into the badass butterfly that I believe I am right now. It is in weakness and imperfection that we become strong, as Paul reminds us in 2 Corinthians 12:9:
A thorn in the flesh was given to me, an angel of Satan, to beat me, to keep me from being too elated. Three times I begged the Lord about this, that it might leave me, but he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for power is made perfect in weakness.” I will rather boast most gladly of my weaknesses, in order that the power of Christ may dwell with me.
So, my friends, I guess I would rather be naked, my flaws exposed than covered in layers of subterfuge that cloak imperfections keeping them from transforming into a bad ass butterfly. I guess it’s also one of the reasons I love art and artists so much, like a chrysalis, they transform flaws into something beautiful, where grace is sufficient, power is made perfect and can and will transform the world.
There is no point in believing you can have faith in God without love…The following verse from 1 Corinthians 13 is one that is embedded in my mind and soul. It as a directive for my daily living and am as emboldened by it as debilitated by it. I am measured by it and found wanting by it a lot, a simple and painful truth, but let’s just say that with what follows I’m keeping true to the promise I made at the beginning of this journey and because of the incessant broadcasting of my incomparable heavenly voice not letting me off the hook…again.
If I speak in human and angelic tongues but do not have love, I am a resounding gong or a clashing cymbal. And if I have the gift of prophecy and comprehend all mysteries and all knowledge; if I have all faith so as to move mountains but do not have love, I am nothing. If I give away everything I own, and if I hand my body over so that I may boast but do not have love, I gain nothing
That pretty much sums it up. If you search this site, I have many posts about love, its substance, wielding it, how it will never be limited to expression or structure, and most importantly that while its essence remains constant, it is also a melody that is unique to each soul, guiding each person to choreograph their own unique dance to make it efficacious in the world spreading its light outward to halt the darkness. So, faith without love, for me anyway, is dancing a choreography that has no music to it whatsoever. It is simply an empty gesture that moves nothing and no one. I see a lot of empty choreography in the world right now, and the reasons why the music is on mute I’m sure are myriad, since I can’t say what mutes the music for anyone else, here’s what muted it for me. (I am completely verklempt right now, so taking a break)
First, let me explain the picture I chose for this post. I was just over two years old, and I was playing with my brothers and the neighbor boys and based on my expression was a bit peeved that I had to stop playing so my father could take the picture (he told me about it much later). I never cared about being proper, or getting messy, I just wanted to play…so it is this little girl who so easily danced to the music of her soul, that will help me focus through the rest of this post, so please be kind.
Dreams have always been important to me. I dream vividly and my unconscious world is a place of mysticism and magic where I encounter revelation, lessons, warnings, people I don’t know irl, and it is a sacred space for me. I had a powerful dream, in which my spirit guide handed me a black, oblong shaped rock and told me it would get me into hell. I was shocked and tried to give it back literally screaming “Why the hell would I want to go to hell?” I never did get an explanation but was shoved forward. Maybe I blocked it, or maybe I wasn’t ready to be conscious of it, but I don’t remember what happened next, until the lesson presented itself in real life.
Remember the story in the last post about the telephone pole? Well, that is only part of the story. The context was a leadership retreat I was on, where we had to do different team building activities, like obstacle courses high up in the trees and fear challenging activities like the telephone pole, etc. all to build trust in our team. Feeling proud that I had mastered them all pretty easily, I should have remembered my prayer about never becoming an asshole, because the last challenge, one that was unique to each individual helped me understand the hell dream I had. Context is important here, so let me just say that music and dance are built into my DNA. I wasn’t allowed to learn dance, but I was allowed to study classical piano which I did for 12 years. Of course, I danced anyway whenever I could, whether at clubs, classes I paid for, and even teaching dance aerobics classes. These two activities were, for me anyway, impossible to put on mute, my soul itself was on display. For piano, I developed a debilitating stage fright that made recitals and competitions almost impossible. Dance, if it was on my own terms was doable, but considering all my other pursuits, it often fell to the background and with the exception of my classes, never in front of an audience, and now structurally it is hard on my body (but I still crush it in my head). So, enter my last challenge on the retreat. (Ok, I’m taking another break and going to work out).
No one ever told me why this challenge was given to me, but with dread I accepted it and hardened myself to the increasingly common response I would have to something that terrified me…the “I’ll show you response” The challenge I was presented was a dance I had to create and present to my team to the music of a Joe Cocker song “You can keep your hat on”. I had two hours to prepare and get the necessary supplies (one being a visit to Victoria’s Secret). I kept more than my hat on, but not much. I had to decide whether to fake it or make it. I chose the latter and merged my soul with the dance I created and by the end there were plenty of responses including and not limited to the level of discomfort and lack of eye contact (everyone was in a circle around me) and a number of increased hand clasping in front of their crotches (I desperately tried to find more genteel language…but decided “fuck it” there was no delicate way to say it). I didn’t die but I didn’t feel good about it either, and I still don’t. You know why? None of them ever looked at me the same way after that, which I hated, and even upon leaving that night I heard a few of them telling Steve, who had come to pick me up and who I was just dating at the time, that he was a very lucky man. It was his look that made the whole experience worthwhile for me. He never asked why but simply looked at them with an expression of “duh, I already know that” and it suddenly dawned on me that he saw me in my entirety and no contrived dance would change that.
I couldn’t understand the challenge of my dream, until I ventured into the dark recesses of my unconscious, my own personal hell. I discovered that I could never comfortably dance my dance in the world if I thought it would have to be embraced, appreciated, or always understood by others. I left ministry as a profession forever a few months later and became a stripper (JUST KIDDING!!!!) I really did leave ministry as my profession though, and accepted Steve’s marriage proposal and moved to Wisconsin where I started a whole new path less travelled. I simply realized that the choreography imposed by church structures became incompatible to the music of my soul. I’m not speaking of black or white here, all things are on a spectrum, but as I’ve said before, if the structure of the choreography that you have chosen for whatever reason inhibits the melody of your soul, in whatever situation, be it professional or relationships, then I think it’s time to visit your own personal hell and figure out how to repair the balance. In my case any real balance seemed untenable, so I moved on.
In conclusion, what propels me in this moment is a commitment to love, to never be a clanging symbol. The world needs every melody, every movement. Our world is filled with experts in choreography, whose dance falls flat and empty. Somehow the void needs to be filled by those of us who have the courage to let our melodies sound. My dance is far from perfect, and I admit I am a lot for people to deal with. I am not an easy person period, but I truly believe that God intended me to be this way and as long as I am committed to visiting hell once in a while and make sure the music of my soul rings clear, the sound of my melody gets stronger.
The phrase: “No Limits”, was a guiding principle of my early life, as well as the phrase: “If it was meant to be it was up to me”. I thought I was holding to the principle that with God, everything was possible, which I still believe is true, however, none of us are on this journey alone, and when you’re so hell bent on moving forward at any cost, you do miss the occasional freight train coming your way that inevitably throws you off course. I missed seeing plenty of them, and have shouldered the consequences of the trauma caused, and yet at the same time have evolved by lessons from them that I would have never learned otherwise. I did settle down, and more importantly took the time to evaluate a situation when a huge obstacle seemed to be thrown down on my path. Sometimes, I believe the obstacles were heavenly blessings, sometimes a consequence of my impatience or inability to see when I was acting recklessly (like the time I swan dived off the top of a telephone pole with a simple harness to prove to the asshole guys below that while I may have been just a “peanut” as they called me, my metaphorical balls were bigger than theirs…which is why I went last, so there would be no discussion) Like I’ve said before my greatest weakness was thinking I had none, and I’ve paid a huge physical consequence as a result. Sometimes the limitations I face are just examples of living in a flawed human world. Lastly, some of the limitations were a result of people who threw obstacles in my path simply because they just didn’t like me or care or just didn’t give a shit and wanted me to fail, which is another reason why it’s important to surround yourself with those few people who have tamed you and have your back. Another essential caveat in understanding why I am standing where I am at this point is a prayer I made while part of a peace keeping mission with the National Council of Churches in Soviet Russia in 1984. I was the youngest by about a decade and in reaction to the bombast of many Pastors and Ministers I interacted with on the trip…I simply asked this : Lord, whatever it takes please, please, please never let me become an asshole (pretty much word for word). I believe God held true to that prayer and placed many obstacles and sent karmic blasts my way that kept me in my place.
Appreciating limits, learning from them and never wanting to become an asshole, to put it bluntly, are essential guiding principles for me now, besides all those other axioms of my faith. Which is why, and I’m going out on another limb here, I need to state clearly that I am not seeking fame, notoriety, or using a subject of my art as a steppingstone or any other misguided belief others have about why I paint what I paint and where it goes once I’m finished. It has always been my practice (even though I’ve only been doing this for five-ish years) to first offer the portrait to the subject in it if they want it as a gift before I put it up for sale. There are plenty of joyful examples of that in my small circle and I do it without bragging or notoriety. I do it because I simply want to continue the ripple (which is why I’ve also thought more than once why this gift came to me so late). Since the internet is, for me anyway, a kind of wild frontier, it has become one of those limits that I will have to learn to navigate around, with as much respect as I can. And I know I am pushing the limit of the prayer I made all those long years ago to God about not being an asshole…but if I see one more reel of an attractive Asian man sands shirt or other clothing in clearly visible underwear brands my fucking head is going to explode…put your damn clothes on. One of the things I’ve appreciated about Asian TV and films is a more genteel approach to human interaction, and people aren’t nekked and eating face all the time, plus modesty to the XY’s in my house were never and still aren’t a priority much to my chagrin, so I’ve seen enough for a lifetime….
Lastly, I don’t have much of an online footprint, because my presence is more to observe and learn and broaden my perspective. What I find hilarious and representative of my relationship with God is that when you search my name according to the AI info on Meta, It turns out I’ve had a long and illustrious career as a beauty pageant consultant (and I’m dead). Best laugh I’ve had in a long time…and for some I may need to say this, that is one of the many adventures that I haven’t had.
Let your next limitation be an opportunity to learn, re-evaluate, and redirect if needed, while still holding onto the power that guides you…as I said in the beginning, with God all things are possible.
Since I posted the unfinished portrait of an artist in the last post, here is the finished piece. Not mystical by any shape of the imagination, but it did crack open my soul a little bit.
I rarely speak of this dimension of my faith, because I am by nature, more prone to root my foundation in doctrines and practices of behavior that fall under things that I can see and touch. Prayer is easy for me because it doesn’t feel as mystical as just singing a soul song while moving in and out of all the minutia of my life, and at this age hindsight is my best personal proof that it works. The more metaphysical aspects, which I do believe in hook, line and sinker, still freak me the hell out. I have had plenty of experiences in my life when the unexplainable, a synchronicity of events, or a stupendous moment of wonder and even a couple of times an experience of unmitigated evil, send my adrenals into fight or flight (which these days seem to be all the time). The thing that comes with an awareness of the mystical and embracing it and allowing it to change and alter one’s perspective over time, is that what you see and hear, become aware of, is demonstrably more acute than what most people are aware of, and it isn’t because they can’t, but because they won’t. I know I am walking into a territory that is akin to walking in a mine field, but here goes.
The Gospels aren’t just filled with stories about rules of behavior, rewards and punishment, ritual, or eternal life. They are also filled with miracles, mystical experiences, Jesus’ prescient knowledge of what is really on people’s minds, of walking on water, and the raising of the dead just to name a remarkable few. Those were the things originally that were the most difficult for me to embrace. As a young woman, I climbed my first mountain at 17 (I had just graduated high school and turned 18 the next day). It was Mt Yale, one of the collegiate peaks in Colorado. We were dropped off at the summit, and after four or five grueling hours with a lot of swearing on my part (like I have said before, I do not share the normal characteristics and affinities of a religious person) my heart pounding and a moment of petulant crying, I made it to the top. It was a religious experience looking out over the Continental divide, and, but for the wind, the silence was deafening and truly amazing. It was truly a rocky mountain high, but what followed was the moment my life would never be the same. As clear as day, I heard a voice say “you are mine now” I turned around in hopes to see the boy I had a crush on, and there was no one there. Knowing I wasn’t prone to auditory hallucinations, I tossed it up to oxygen deprivation and gave a chuckle, only to hear the voice again “you heard me right”. My soul cracked and I knew with perfect clarity I would never be the same again. The trip down the mountain only took an hour or so and was completely terrifying how easily it would be to tumble like Wylee Coyote down the steep slope. I threw up twice, of course both times in front of said cute boy and never said a word to anyone about what I had heard.
That was the summer before college and could not dismiss the voice that would accompany me throughout the rest of my life. I needed to know more and it was that moment I decided to study theology (much to my parent’s chagrin who had hopes of using my big brain to make some big bucks). Usually, I hear the voice at pivotal points in my life to help me focus and redirect my path necessarily, but not enough to lead me to believe that I had succumbed to schizophrenia or mental illness in any form, I’m way too practical and objective for that (seriously, I’m not an idiot… I know how far fetched this sounds). I still never told anyone about those auditory messages, because they are for no one else’s benefit but my own. But I do pay attention to the words I hear and adjust accordingly, because I have come to believe it truly is a knowledge beyond me that is assisting me, because I can be pretty clueless when it comes to reading a situation or am as stubborn as a mule when moving into territory I just don’t want to go (like right fucking now). Importantly, I think my heavenly help is truly for me alone, so I don’t get in my own way. I am never going to be one of those people who tells others the reason they are behaving in such a way is because God told them to…which truly is just an excuse to use God as leverage to justify their behavior. For me, it comes in the form of a smack on my head when I’m being obtuse, or a loving message of comfort when I’m falling apart, it is simply one of those mystical things that I can’t explain but shouldn’t feel the need to hide from, even though I still do, a bit.
If I can believe that a Savior can die for my sins, and offers me heavenly help whenever, in goodness, I ask for it, I guess the occasional message that only I can hear is part of my package. I also guess I can’t talk about faith without mentioning the dimension of it I can’t rationally explain. I am limited to four dimensions however, God is not. So, moving ahead, perhaps you will understand me and what motivates me more clearly…or write me off as delusional, which would make me sad, but it is what it is.
Before I begin, I should have realized that doing a video would open me up to…questions? scrutiny? a bunch of crap? So a few clarifications…I do not publish comments on this site ever, because, well, I don’t want to. I find the process vainglorious and often disingenuous, at least for people I don’t know personally (to those I do know that have commented, I have read them but as a general rule I don’t publish or respond to them as a matter of course but they do make me smile). I turn off “likes” and “counters” to the best of my ability because I think they are the heroin of the internet…and because, well, I just don’t care. I never did this for adulation, validation or criticism…I started this blog to record and share my ordinary observations and just send them out in the most ordinary way possible, and it is my belief that it reaches anyone who could benefit without strings, end of story.
Second clarification…I do my own art, with my own hands, period. Never took a class EVER. The story of learning to draw and paint during COVID is 100% accurate. Why or how I never knew I could do this is a story for another time and place and I’m really, really, irritated that I felt I needed to post something unfinished just to to prove authenticity and am equally as irritated at myself for caring whether or not anybody thinks I’m a fraud, but clarity is important to me so there you have it. To get juvenile for a moment…some people are a bunch of poop heads…tantrum over.
Now to the subject at hand, which I think goes well with the snark from above. When I think of power, ultimately what defines it is the source, the means by which it is propelled or moved forward. For me, there is a distinct difference from an external power, like a wind or a weapon, and an internal power like fear or love. Of course, power like any energy is on a spectrum. There have always been ways culture has created or structured ways to protect or insulate oneself from external powers, be it weather or war, which have, throughout history, have had varied degrees of success, but that is an issue for another time. My focus today, regardless of what external powers you face in your life, is what internal power moves you, strengthens you, centers you, keeps you on solid footing even when the world is not and you face a power or force that wants to move you in a direction you don’t want to go. It is then, in those moments, where you to need to decide what kind of internal power you put your faith in. I deeply distrust or have no faith in anyone who believes that they are somehow by divine placement, popularity, or ancestry, inherently blessed with greater power than anyone else. Appearances are deceptive, from those that hold great worldly power to those that hold none, we are of the same substance. While external power may favor the few, it is the internal power of love that will strengthen the multitudes. One of my favorite New Testament verses comes from Paul’s letter to the Philippians, 4:11-13 (the last line of which you may be familiar because a lot of athletes have tattoos of this)
Not that I say this because of need, for I have learned, in whatever situation I find myself, to be self-sufficient. I know indeed how to live in humble circumstances; I know also how to live with abundance. In every circumstance and in all things I have learned the secret of being well fed and of going hungry, of living in abundance and of being in need. I have the strength for everything through him who empowers me.
In my lifetime, I have become measurably stronger, by heaven’s standards anyway, because I am aware of and have chosen to have faith in the God of love that moves me, stills me, strengthens me in whatever situation that comes my way, whether in need or abundance (even on the internet š ). I also know in this spinning world, the determinative factor in not allowing it to spin out of control are those of us who stand in strength, regardless of where, or who we are from the lowest places to the highest sourced by the God of love who empowers us.
