Run. Alice!!

Alice in Wonderland is a movie that I enjoy watching.  I don’t really have favorites because a favorite implies something that you never tire of watching.  I tire easily.

Though she be absent, my grand and I still have conversations. She had sleep technical difficulties and I, being her twin, inherited it. Restless Spirit is what I call it.  She and I are talking now.   It’s 12:26 AM and I can’t sleep and I have an idea why.  I’m not living/doing my purpose.  Not for lack of effort on my part, well maybe a little bit.  There’s this little thing called Adulting that I must engage in.  Some people my age, older and younger just say eff it and ignore the Rules of Adulting (RoA) all together.  They usually have a parent(s) who pick up the slack or some schmuck who is ok Adulting for them.  Yeah, I don’t have that luxury.  I’ve been Adulting since about age 7.  Nothing new, plenty of kids start Adulting way sooner than required.  No complaints, but hell, Adulting is exhausting and no one tells you the RoA because if you start as a kid, it’s basically OJT.   I get it now how people go absolutely BatCrap doing something they are good at that they don’t want to do.  I’m good at a lot of things, G-d made me that way.  I could/would excel (and normally do) at everything because I pick things up easily but if the heart isn’t in it, it’s just like mashing peas – a waste.

I feel like a slave.  No, that’s a lie.  I have no idea what it feels like to be a slave.  I can only project the images of what slave life was like onto my current situation.  Having to jump when someone says jump.  Answer the phone, respond, speak at the sound of the beep or else.  The work, I initially believed in but it became as mundane as running on the treadmill and worse yet, yielded no benefits.  Least you can reap gains from da mill.  It has become obsolete, as productive as the hamster on the wheel – it/I am going/go nowhere.

To some I may sound ungrateful but who cares.  Not asking you to agree, understand or even read.  I’m writing this because it’s what I’m supposed to do, called to do.  Simply, what I do.  Every day I leave my home and particularly on the weekend, I see a world that I resent. There, standing on the corner, every corner is someone begging.  Old people, young people, individuals, teams, everybody wants something.  Jesus said give to all who ask.  Obviously, he was talking to/about the middle class.  We give to every body.  No body gives us shit.  The rich give to themselves and/or other rich.  The poor, hell, everybody gives to the poor.  Who gives to the middle class?  The Middle Class. We – The MC pours into every class/caste/population on Earth/America and people wonder why/how we’re running on empty.  One can only run off of blood/sweat/piss/tears for so long. People get tired.  I.  Am.  Tired.

I listen to Republicans, Democrats, Green party, Tea party, coke party, choke party, IDFAF party and every one in between.  Every one saying the same thing about the same issues about the same people.  Social Security (what exactly is that again?), Healthcare (even working people can’t afford that), Education (pre/elementary/high/post secondary/higher) let’s be honest – everybody isn’t cut out for school and just should go,  Children (this might get me some enemies but Everyone does not love the kids), Military (we’ve got to do better by our Vets) – what else is there?  Everyone talking about “Make America great again” or “America is already great”  Listen, America, if that’s her real name, can take care of herself, if we let her.  She’s been around since before Jesus was born and was, by all accounts, doing pretty well.  We humans have a way of getting hold of something and completely removing all evidence of what it once was – pure, simple, good.  I remember when I came of age to vote, there was a saying going around during election time “Ask yourself if you’re better off now than you were 4 years ago.”  I never quite understood that because the person sitting in the Oval Office had absolutely nothing to do with where I was or would be going in the span of 4 years.  Wait, I take that back, they had a hand in how hard it would be for me to maneuver, but even that was still up to me.  That question only really mattered to rich people and poor people.  Middle class people; technically, we’re still the same.  Time has marched on, we’ve aged, we’ve lost, we’ve gained (maybe) but we’re still pouring into others and no one, it seems, is pouring into us.

People die at the hands of each other.  People die at the hands of another.  Those in power should know better.  Those who want power should do better.  Let’s keep it real – No lives matter.  If they did, we’d do better by the people who are living, trying to live, trying.

Funny thing is, this isn’t even me writing this.  I mean, I good, don’t get me wrong, but when you get in the zone, when words, lyrics, energy flows without need for breath,  food, air, you MUST KNOW that it is something Not of This World.   I’ve always believed that, which is why I say I’m GoodWithPen (none good but the Father, from whom this gift flows).  I was hesitant about letting my gift flow because, you know, that whole Adulting BS but this is my test of faith (that’s a whole different story).  I may get fired but I haven’t said anything implicating, merely voiced my opinion, which I actually put down on my recent evaluation, lol.   I understand why people (who have money) are hesitant to take stand on political issues.  They’ve got a lot to lose but my faith ain’t always been high. Always been there, lurking beneath the surface like algae, catfish, termites under the crawlspace.  Can’t see it, can’t hear it, but you know it’s there.  My faith is private.  You should see my faith my actions. So when I see people in positions who do/don’t speak out, that, to me, is an exercise of faith.  If you lose something because you stood up for (what you believe to be/have been) injustice, do you believe He will restore what you lost?  Fence straddling, waffling, pan flipping, coal jumping it can be dangerous and if nothing else, looks exhausting.  It’s akin to going to a buffet and standing in front of the menu board for hours because you’re afraid to make a decision.  To make a choice.  What if I choose wrong?  You can send it back, throw it away, give it away.  Speak out, that could mean death, take that how you will.

I am not oppressed.  More restricted but again, the whole Adulting thing but I’m making strides to get back to Childing, you know when you could do shit and it be excused because you were a kid.  Be like Ryan Locte- embarrass an entire nation and be given ample opportunities.  Let’s see how many opportunities come my way should this be viewed as embarrassing.  Let’s see if I can Locte this to my advantage (yes, he has become a verb).

I’m sure there are plenty of people who have similar feelings, sentiments, thoughts, etc.  Maybe not as deep, maybe deeper, maybe not at all.  At times, most times, the majority of the time Do you care?  Really?  Do you feel what you do is making a difference?  Be the change you want to see in the world?  That drop in the ocean gets lost and add no value to rivers, lakes and streams fed by the ocean.  The ocean does not need our tears.  It, like America was/is self-sufficient until we got involved.

I had the opportunity once to chat with someone who confided that they’d contemplated self-murder.  I asked why.  Their answer was one of mutual feeling.  “The world is such a shitty place to each other, I get sad every time I see it.”  I found it to be the saddest, most truthful thing anyone had every said to me.  People don’t like truth.  No matter how it’s delivered, and my delivery can be comically brash at times, but hey, whatever.

I recall working at the post office just after graduation and we couldn’t talk but we could listen to music.  People would listen to, the now defunct Don Immus – you remember him.  He called a woman’s basketball team a group of “nappy headed whoes” or something to that effect.  But during his show, when readers would call in, most would predictably and cheerfully and regularly ask him “How are you?” and his response is something I’ve followed to this day.  He would say “Do you care?”  Why are you asking how a person is?  Because society dictates it’s the polite thing to do.  Really, do you care?  Be honest.  No.  Why?  Because you have your own troubles to care about and that person’s troubles may be just a bit too much for you to bear.  Or, maybe they just don’t want to hear it.  Maybe, they just, don’t care.  And you know what, that’s really ok.  Don’t say things you don’t mean.  Don’t give people false hope.  Don’t pretend to be something that you aren’t.  If you don’t like something or someone, there has to be a reason.  Whether or not that reason makes sense to someone else, doesn’t matter.  Those are your feelings, they are valid.  Own them, don’t run or hide from them.  Be true to yourself.  Few of us can do that, particularly women, for we may be labeled a bitch.  Well, be a bitch and make no apologies for it.  Don’t be a dick, that’s just unnecessary.  Just because you hold power and can wield it, doesn’t mean you should.  Exercise discretion.  Exercise restraint.

It’s now 1:56AM and my grand and I are still conversing.  My RHEMAn is still at work and I am tired but still the music flows.  Music.  The universal G-d. Accepted by everyone in some form.

“Just like fire, burning out the way, if I could light the world up for just one day

Watch this madness, colorful charade, no one can be just like me anyway

Just like magic,  I’ll be flying free, Imma disappear when they come for me

I kick that ceiling what you gonna say, no one can be just like me anyway.” Pink

 

G-d gave Noah a sign.  No more water, The Fire Next Time.

P.I.M.P.

There’s a saying, “It ain’t bragging if it’s true”, well the truth of the matter is, I am one tired athlete.  See, I’m learning to swim…again. Not again again, but for the 4th or 5th time because the other times missed something…they didn’t teach me how to swim.  So frustrating!  See, I’m a late blooming athlete.  Growing up, I was too girly and being an athlete meant sweating and getting dirty and worse yet, smelling.  Uh, no thanks.

Today, I could not care less.  My reverse logic tells me it’s better this way.  As a kid, it’s expected that you may become athletic, but anything past the age of 25 is all self motivation and even that is often lacking.  I don’t concern myself with the goals/triumphs/success of others.  I’m happy for them and will gladly celebrate but I’m doing mE.  I did my first Triathlon (Sprint) after my 3rd or 4th lesson and what I did in the pool could not even remotely be classified as swimming but I made it to the end.  Swimming has so many mechanics to remember that yes, I often forget to breathe, not a good thing when submerged in water.  If I’m breathing, I’m not kicking.  If I’m kicking, I’m not breathing.  If I’m breathing and kicking then my stroke is off or my head is coming up or my leg is kicking out too wide or SOMETHING is not going as it should.  When I’m in the pool, in my head I’m mirroring Missy Franklin.  In reality I probably look more like Franklin Mississippi but I keep at it.  Why, I’m not exactly sure, I got nothing to prove to no one but myself and I guess that’s why I keep going.  Rising before the rooster, sun and birds to get to the pool in the cold and sometime rainy weather takes effort.  Some days my effort is there and other days, well, lets just say ugly has its place in exercising.

Oddly enough, I’m getting better.  Not by my account but by the account of the lifeguards who see at the pool 3 days a week.  Every days I swim, I aim for 800yds or more.  Some days I get it and some days I just don’t have it.  I had ADD so it’s REALLY hard for me always get it in because after the first 100yds I’m ready to go. My goal is to swim 1 mile, continuously.  It doesn’t matter how long it takes me, speed will come later, for now, I’m just trying to get it right.

Whoever said progress is a slow process probably WAS talking about me, but hey, I don’t mind.  I AM destined for greatness and Greatness and the genius thereof, cannot be rushed.  Tomorrow I’m going to video myself swimming so I can actually “see” what I’m doing; right or wrong.  I really won’t have any idea exactly what I’m looking for but it doesn’t even matter.  I will see evidence of the slow (and oft repeated) process of my swim progress.

I don’t know what you heard about me – up before dawn cracks ain’t easy – me, you and folk from AARP – RAW PIMP.

Person in the middle of practice!

I

Day 12 – Powerless to Save Ourselves

“I have to surrender, become passive in the presence of a power greater than I.” Fr. Robert Barron

I’m a fan of the 12 Step Program ideology. It is my belief that everyone in life is covering or needs to recover from something. Everyone needs to getmended. I won’t beat this rug til the fabric frays but a while ago I wrote about Step One, so scroll through and reacquaint yourself with that post.

I think passivity gets a bad rap. One of MW’s definitions states c-1 lacking energy or will. I think it takes a great deal of will and energy to surrender and/or not act. With all that is going on in the world, everyone feels that they HAVE to stand up for themselves or others and while that may be true, sometimes surrender is the greatest weapon. I cannot speak on what I would do in situations, my temperament tends to betray logic, reason and common sense but I recognize the Power of Passivity in that none were more passive than Jesus yet none is more powerful.

I surrender all

All to thee my blessed Savior

I, surrender all.

Tainted Offering – Advent Season Day 1

Day 1 Our Tainted Offering (from Fr. Robert Barron)
“Advent is the season where we prepare for the coming of the Savior and we don’t need a Savior unless we’re deeply convinced there is something to be saved from.” Fr. Robert Barron

Wow, never looked at it that way before. Every day, someone, somewhere is a savior. People who give blood, people and families who donate organs, people who donate time, money or gifts. All of them can, in some way, be called a savior because in some small, earthly (human) way, they are saving someone from something or at least trying to. We even try to save ourselves and sometimes we are successful and other times we are just making our “rescue” more difficult that what it needs to be.

As the world prepares to enter into “The most wonderful time of the year”, stop for a few minutes and ask yourself, “What am I preparing for?” Last week, many were preparing for the traditional Thanksgiving Day feast. Just last night, many were preparing for the start of another work week. In both instances, there may have been something forgotten, missed, overlooked and someone or something saved the day. I myself, seeking inspiration in preparing to write about my Advent season was saved by Fr. Robert Barron.

We are all, in my opinion saviors because we have the power to rescue others and even ourselves from circumstances. In doing so, we, IMHO, are the closest to embodying the “image and likeness of G-d”. We all, at some point tie on our capes and dash out the door in our best Captain Save’m impression to do what we need and/or maybe don’t want to – be a savior – for somebody in need.

I visited my grandmother last night and she is a world class instigator. She talks just to keep her lungs and lips working and boy can she get you riled up. She got my uncle riled up last night about his relationship with is son. My uncle, being drawn into the light (Carolanne), was doing his best to defend his decision to not be a savior for his adult son since he is a savior for his grandson. As my grandmother continued to poke the bear and the bear (my uncle) grew more agitated and me and my mother chuckling the entire time; my uncle said something that struck me, he said that his son didn’t deserve anything (my grand was admonishing him for not getting his adult son Christmas gifts). True, my cousin’s behavior may not warrant the effort and spending of hard earned money, I had to reflect on those words because what does it really mean to deserve something? One definition lists it as: verb – do something or have or show qualities worthy of (reward or punishment). Hmm, I don’t know about you (my best preacher voice) but there are times when I’ve deserved reward and times when I’ve deserved punishment. Rarely are they received in a timely manner but then again maybe that’s a good thing. What do you deserve: respect, life, liberty, the pursuit of happiness, and why do we feel so deserving? Maybe it’s because G-d is so deserving and since we ARE created in his “image and likeness” like Father, like son, eh! But let’s not get carried away because remember, the Son was undeserving of what he received, so let us be mindful of our words when we bang our gavel of justice in deciding who or what is deserving.

Pass me not O gentle Savior
Hear my humble cry
While, on others thou art calling
Do not pass me by

Life Anonymous: Candy Corned Cadbury Candy Canes do exist

Step 2 – Hope

Came to believe that a Power greater than ourselves could restore us to sanity.

What is it that causes us to believe and what exactly is belief anyway? Our friend Merriam Webster says belief is : a feeling of being sure that someone or something exists or that something is true; a feeling that something is good, right, or valuable; a feeling of trust in the worth or ability of someone.

Hmmm, seems to me that belief is kin to faith : a strong belief or trust in someone or something.

Came to believe… I think my first encounter with belief was Santa Claus. Don’t know how or why but I’m pretty sure he was my first test of belief, faith and anything related to my dependency (bringing gifts) on another, aside from my parents. I’m sure my first encounter was so foreign to me that I had no concept of belief, let alone belief in someone who I only saw once a year. No, it was not until I was a little older that I really began to BELIEVE in Santa Claus and all the joy and goodness he represented. Deep in my heart, I knew, if I were good, Santa would reward my goodness and bring me everything on my list – which he usually did. Santa Claus was my first, cognizant and recognizable action of belief. Even when I got older and had my belief shattered, I still believed anyway because there is something so pure about believing in something so good and pure. Look how many songs talk about belief. I believe I can fly – really? Don’t stop believing – why not? Believe – Cher; Do you believe in magic – not sure? Dozens of songs talking about belief.

that a Power greater than ourselves…Hmmm, now I’m pretty gosh darn terrific, I mean, I’m no Ali but I’m no glass jaw either, so just who/what could be greater than I. Well, if you’re like me, an answer just leads to another question, so sometimes I try to stop answering. Whether its Creationism, Big Bang, or Made in China, you have to admit, being human and living it a pretty mind blowing thing. Just how did all of this come to be? Yeah, there’s a so-called answer for everything but is it really an answer? When things get messy, we tend to say “Why me?” Who exactly are you asking this question of? If you are just talking out loud, why ask questions, why not make statements instead. Questions imply a desire to know more and if you ask questions of the unknown then it stands to reason that somewhere inside, you still believe in Santa Claus.

could restore us to sanity. Restore : to give back (some one/thing that was lost or taken) : to put or bring (something) back into existence : to return something to an earlier or original condition by repairing it. Furniture, cars, jewelry, bad dye jobs, we’ve all had things restored. You don’t need a great deal of belief with those things, you can see what needs to be restored. Sanity : the condition of having a healthy mental mind : the condition of being sane. We have all the science and technology at our fingertips, why risk something as precious as the health and well-being of my mind to the unknown? See, more questions.

Well, after some long debates with myself, I came up with this; if as a child, I had belief in something so pure and good, something greater than myself, that brought such happiness to my mind, why can’t I have that belief as an adult? In fact I do, still believe in Santa Claus, everyday. Everyday, I am sure of my being and all that I have and see. I trust myself and some things and people around me. Some of those people and things do in fact have great power over me (worldly speaking of course) and when I have been or am being robbed of my sanity, some of the things some of those people have can most assuredly restore my sanity (booze, pills, exercise, painting, whatever). In a word, I have hope. As a child I had the sincerest expectation and confidence that Santa would bring me my gifts. Every morning I have the sincerest expectation and confidence that I will be able to stand, walk, move about, car starts, bank card works, computer doesn’t crash, arrive accident free and anything else I can think up and I do with every second of every day under the guise of hope. I sincerely expect all those things because to not expect them would cause severe trauma to my mental state. Santa Claus, the Easter Bunny, the Tooth Fairy, God, even the Great Pumpkin; all have something in common. All require belief in the essence of something not truly representative of themselves. Our parents were/are Santa, the Easter Bunny, Tooth Fairy, the Great Pumpkin and even God before we came to know and understood who God really is, so is believing in something greater than yourself really such a bad thing, especially if the only reason for believing is to maintain a healthy mind?

I’m not big on the Easter Bunny, the treats are too sweet but I love the premise and pretty colors. The Great Pumpkin is always late, poor Linus and I never could figure out the Tooth Fairy. I lost my wisdom teeth and didn’t get jack squat, as a result, my mind was left in an unhealthy mental state, but God and Santa Claus, I’ve never experienced so much mental happiness. Ask any kid about Santa Claus and you can see the restoration of sanity right before your eyes. Amazing isn’t it. So glad I’m born during the most wonderful time of the year, although some people do lose their minds and tend to over extend Santa, but that’s a topic for another day.

Jessie Jackson was right. Keep hope alive.