Just when my world is becoming too self-centered, too isolated from the reality outside my door, something happens to remind me why we are really here.
I just got a call- the first in weeks- from my friend Gloria. She is dying, slowly, due to a failing liver. That problem was brought on by a tattoo done by an undereducated son of hers- he repeatedly dipped into the ink bottle, rather than use small separated amounts of ink during each new tat. Yes, I know. I just had one done, but trust me, I am aware of the possible consequences, more vividly than most of you. The artist who did the new one would not have been allowed to touch me if I hadn't trusted him.
Gloria's body temperature is below 90 right now. Working in the medical field I have learned too much, and I know what it means. Everything stops today, so I can go see her. I may not get many more chances.
The greatest of the religions in this world, and I do not necessarily mean the big ones, teach us that self-sacrifice, of time, compassion, and deed, are the motions by which we are ultimately judged in this world. And we are judged more by ourselves than others, or even the One. We spend way too much time concentrating on our wants, needs, passions, and how to fill the gaps in. We cannot seem to learn that is in interaction between ourselves and others, human or animal, that we find our greatest connection to grace. We are taught through mass media and ad campaigns to think of ourselves as the center of the world, playing up to our worst features- vanity and pride.
I am rather ashamed of myself right now, because my world does seem to revolve around only me and my immediate world. I prefer to work on a more local level, but I think I understand now why my mom used to volunteer at various things. It wasn't to build up her own self-esteem. It was to help others out of whatever they were caught in, just by offering a hand. It isn't a tick mark in your favour for the judgement day- it is the true compassion we claim to be looking for. It isn't a ticket to get you into god's good side, it isn't about self satisfaction or reward, it isn't even about a pat on the back. It is what you do, because you know deep in your heart it should be done.
and I need to go do it.
Our society doesn't teach selflessness. We are lucky to every now and again have one who does understand it come through and show us what it is about. There is a peace brought by such action that can come from no where else. i think each of us could afford in this country to look well at what we do, and why, and maybe set about to adjust those percentages in favour of a less self-centered life.
There are people out there, like Gloria, who could use a hand to hold, a person to talk to, 'cos that's about all they have left.
Do you have it in you?
Tuesday, October 25, 2005
Sunday, October 16, 2005
Skin Deep
Well, I did it.
It has been really close to 10 years since I last put ink into my skin. I haven’t even thought about it until today (well, yesterday now.) I was in Dallas to catch a performance, since I couldn’t go to Albuquerque like I had wanted to for Del Castillo, and I got a little too bored.
I went to the tattoo shop I had seen and got an impromptu little piece on my left inner forearm. It’s a broken heart, or as I called it in the days when I originally designed it, a shredded heart. Heart with a large piece torn out of it from the top, like it had been ruptured. I meant it once to represent my absolutely rotten luck with relationships, but that has changed.
Awhile back, I came across a book called “Sand and Foam,” by Kahlil Gibran. He wrote “The Prophet”, a beautiful and moving piece about our relationship to God. “Sand & Foam” is a collection of quotes from Gibran. Among them I found this one, which is now my signature on all e-mails:
“How will my heart be unsealed, unless it be broken?”
I understood it immediately to be about developing compassion. If one has not suffered, has not loved and lost, has not gone through torment somehow, it is not possible to understand where another may be coming from. It will not be possible to have true compassion for another, if you have never had to walk that path.
It is ironic to me that I have heard things similar in meaning much of my life, even from my beloved E.A. Poe, and failed to understand.
“Better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all.” comes from the same vein, though it may be considered a tad more self-centered. Leave it to Kahlil to touch upon the true lesson. Once you know what it is to hurt, you might just find it in yourself not to do those things that can be hurtful to those, especially, that you love. And even those you don’t know.
It is so easy to lash out at a stranger, because you will not have to directly deal with any hurt feelings. Developing compassion for all things allows you to know in advance that everything you do has its consequences.
and sometimes you cannot help but hurt another. It is the nature of things that some must suffer some of the time. Compassion is what gives us the ability to say “I’m sorry” and mean it. It is the point where two or more persons can find common ground and hopefully rise above it. It is the one thing that can put us as a species back into the Grace of God, no matter what faith, what path you may each follow.
All this from a single line of words.
And now I wear it on my sleeve, permanently, that I may never forget.
It has been really close to 10 years since I last put ink into my skin. I haven’t even thought about it until today (well, yesterday now.) I was in Dallas to catch a performance, since I couldn’t go to Albuquerque like I had wanted to for Del Castillo, and I got a little too bored.
I went to the tattoo shop I had seen and got an impromptu little piece on my left inner forearm. It’s a broken heart, or as I called it in the days when I originally designed it, a shredded heart. Heart with a large piece torn out of it from the top, like it had been ruptured. I meant it once to represent my absolutely rotten luck with relationships, but that has changed.
Awhile back, I came across a book called “Sand and Foam,” by Kahlil Gibran. He wrote “The Prophet”, a beautiful and moving piece about our relationship to God. “Sand & Foam” is a collection of quotes from Gibran. Among them I found this one, which is now my signature on all e-mails:
“How will my heart be unsealed, unless it be broken?”
I understood it immediately to be about developing compassion. If one has not suffered, has not loved and lost, has not gone through torment somehow, it is not possible to understand where another may be coming from. It will not be possible to have true compassion for another, if you have never had to walk that path.
It is ironic to me that I have heard things similar in meaning much of my life, even from my beloved E.A. Poe, and failed to understand.
“Better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all.” comes from the same vein, though it may be considered a tad more self-centered. Leave it to Kahlil to touch upon the true lesson. Once you know what it is to hurt, you might just find it in yourself not to do those things that can be hurtful to those, especially, that you love. And even those you don’t know.
It is so easy to lash out at a stranger, because you will not have to directly deal with any hurt feelings. Developing compassion for all things allows you to know in advance that everything you do has its consequences.
and sometimes you cannot help but hurt another. It is the nature of things that some must suffer some of the time. Compassion is what gives us the ability to say “I’m sorry” and mean it. It is the point where two or more persons can find common ground and hopefully rise above it. It is the one thing that can put us as a species back into the Grace of God, no matter what faith, what path you may each follow.
All this from a single line of words.
And now I wear it on my sleeve, permanently, that I may never forget.
Saturday, October 08, 2005
Life sucks and then you die
It just goes to show you...you can live a model life, be a good person, a good citizen, and still not get out of here alive.
True it goes for all of us, but it hits home more when it is close to you. My best friend's older brother was just diagnosed with prostate cancer. Gunner is about a year older than me. my friend Casey is 5 months younger than me. Needless to say, both Casey and I are feeling this one. I am close to his family, another sibling almost. They were more in the way of siblings to me than my own blood for a long time. Now one of them is facing serious illness, and a shortened life.
No one can prepare you for this sort of thing. It is always something happening to someone else. And the helplessness is the really hard part. I can do nothing for Gunner or his wife, or the family, except offer condolences and a shoulder to lean on. It isn't enough, at least not to make my own soul feel better. I couldn't even offer anymore than that to my own mother, and I was by her side through the cancer, and at her side moments after she died. I felt more like a little child in those moments than I ever had growing up. And I don't think I can offer anything more up to my other family, in the face of mortality.
I was supposed to be going to Austin tonight to celebrate with some music and musicians I have come to love. I think instead, I will be looking to hide inside their music to forget for awhile the shortness and fragility of our little lives here.
And if I have forgotten to say it recently, to any one out there, I apologise. We find out too late sometimes that we don't have enough time here and every moment does indeed count. Please know I love you. It is the one thing that time, distance, and even death can never change.
True it goes for all of us, but it hits home more when it is close to you. My best friend's older brother was just diagnosed with prostate cancer. Gunner is about a year older than me. my friend Casey is 5 months younger than me. Needless to say, both Casey and I are feeling this one. I am close to his family, another sibling almost. They were more in the way of siblings to me than my own blood for a long time. Now one of them is facing serious illness, and a shortened life.
No one can prepare you for this sort of thing. It is always something happening to someone else. And the helplessness is the really hard part. I can do nothing for Gunner or his wife, or the family, except offer condolences and a shoulder to lean on. It isn't enough, at least not to make my own soul feel better. I couldn't even offer anymore than that to my own mother, and I was by her side through the cancer, and at her side moments after she died. I felt more like a little child in those moments than I ever had growing up. And I don't think I can offer anything more up to my other family, in the face of mortality.
I was supposed to be going to Austin tonight to celebrate with some music and musicians I have come to love. I think instead, I will be looking to hide inside their music to forget for awhile the shortness and fragility of our little lives here.
And if I have forgotten to say it recently, to any one out there, I apologise. We find out too late sometimes that we don't have enough time here and every moment does indeed count. Please know I love you. It is the one thing that time, distance, and even death can never change.
Monday, October 03, 2005
I think I am growing again
Not the body, though of course it is changing as it ages. Something in me is shifting again, and I can't quite put my hands around it yet. I was invited to participate in a "dark poetry" contest, and just couldn't get anything out of myself that sounded like what the others involved seem to think is dark. I have been through the self pity, and the self-loathing. I still indulge now and then, usually when I have forgotten to take my bi-polar meds. I don't do the Dundgeons & Dragons stuff much anymore, and vampires do NOT exist, despite much protest to the contrary. I sought imagery from my travels, especially in England, where so much that is old still lives amidst the new. I tried to weave a sense of darkness and maybe forboding, and had a lot of trouble with it. I haven't had to rip poetry out of myself in many years, but this was like giving birth! the results were not bad at all, but more Poe than any of the entries so far on the website. I suspect it would fall on deaf ears. Too romantic- not quite enough of the macabre.
I think I must be gaining some sort of Light deeper into this soul, because pulling up anything negative is harder than it once was. The interesting thing was that I started to see much more about the pagan group than I had; too many of them are where they are because of movies and other mass media. It is not as it was in my day, where one had to seek out the teacher and walk the path of the apprentice, proving loyalty and intent. Now one picks up a book or two, takes the "tests" and gets to become a wizard, warlock, witch, temptress....whatever temporary fix one needs to get through this mundane life.
I really shouldn't be too critical. There have always been those who joined the Craft for the wrong reasons, and still some of those eventually grew into the part for real, not just play. I hope that is the case with some of the ones I have read entries by on the site. I was just hoping for something a tad more serious I guess. I have always been a solitary, and now and then it is good to relate to others of my "faith"......I hate calling it that, bit insulting, but can't think of a good alternative!
I think my scientific background makes it tough for me to relate to some of the silliness I have read. And the idea that S&M/B&D are automatically connected to the Craft is crude and uneducated. I have participated in that , but not because I am a witch. And body peircing and tattooing have just as little to do with it. somehow the giant mish-mash of subjects have gotten interwoven into a whole new Thing, adn I am not sure I like it. Again, mass media, feeding the mundanes stories of perverted lifestyles, and non-"normal" behaviours, and somehow stamping it all with the title of Wicca.
WRONG.
WRONGWRONGWRONG.
but ya know what? I am going to make the curious reader go out and find out what it is all REALLY about, one on one with somebody who truly prctices the Craft, not some highschool or college kid who feels like a misfit and thus plays the part. I have always believed that this is one thing that should be passed down person to person, face to face, and no other way.
Or is that "Way"?
A good start might be a recently republished book called " The Way of Wyrd." It explains much and asks nothing but an ear to listen with.
Merry met, my friend, and merry parted- to merry meet again.
Blessed Be!
I think I must be gaining some sort of Light deeper into this soul, because pulling up anything negative is harder than it once was. The interesting thing was that I started to see much more about the pagan group than I had; too many of them are where they are because of movies and other mass media. It is not as it was in my day, where one had to seek out the teacher and walk the path of the apprentice, proving loyalty and intent. Now one picks up a book or two, takes the "tests" and gets to become a wizard, warlock, witch, temptress....whatever temporary fix one needs to get through this mundane life.
I really shouldn't be too critical. There have always been those who joined the Craft for the wrong reasons, and still some of those eventually grew into the part for real, not just play. I hope that is the case with some of the ones I have read entries by on the site. I was just hoping for something a tad more serious I guess. I have always been a solitary, and now and then it is good to relate to others of my "faith"......I hate calling it that, bit insulting, but can't think of a good alternative!
I think my scientific background makes it tough for me to relate to some of the silliness I have read. And the idea that S&M/B&D are automatically connected to the Craft is crude and uneducated. I have participated in that , but not because I am a witch. And body peircing and tattooing have just as little to do with it. somehow the giant mish-mash of subjects have gotten interwoven into a whole new Thing, adn I am not sure I like it. Again, mass media, feeding the mundanes stories of perverted lifestyles, and non-"normal" behaviours, and somehow stamping it all with the title of Wicca.
WRONG.
WRONGWRONGWRONG.
but ya know what? I am going to make the curious reader go out and find out what it is all REALLY about, one on one with somebody who truly prctices the Craft, not some highschool or college kid who feels like a misfit and thus plays the part. I have always believed that this is one thing that should be passed down person to person, face to face, and no other way.
Or is that "Way"?
A good start might be a recently republished book called " The Way of Wyrd." It explains much and asks nothing but an ear to listen with.
Merry met, my friend, and merry parted- to merry meet again.
Blessed Be!
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