Doors and Windows

A nightmare came back with a bit of a shock as we received some letters in the mail a few days back.

My Son and I.

This prompts an appointment we both take a decent drive and go to.

Although it’s a bit of a frightening reality it all comes down to some person, some thing, doing oppressive, mean spirited work, in my own mind.

Basic freedoms pulled away from us. Or did we let it go? Some of our behaviors have not been very conscionable so it would seem we may have to pay the piper on some of our mis-deeds.

I am angered and completely upset though, by this oppression. Whether a quiet, controlling husband or the blatant hatred shown to anything we are ignorant of, or a child, living in hell. Homes, schools, places of worship, nothing seems sacred any longer.   This society we are living in is in attacking, belittling, bullying mode. Although, for what reasons?  I really don’t understand what all the fighting is about?  Oh, is that the power/money thing I hear of?? I digress, please allow me to continue.

Basic needs are not being met from the get go for so many of our young, and it has been going on for far too long. These children grow to become pretty much

the same thing as the environment they grow in, with most of us incapable of cherishing another. It’s what they absorb, words they hear, what sad eyes have to see.

Cycles that are just being repeated generation through generation.

Love:  It is a basic human need that most of us need fulfilled.  If a person finds love, however style that may take, and these folks are lifting one another, cherishing one another, sharing that light of love with others, who are we to judge? This couple, whatever the makeup, i.e.: gay, straight, does it matter? Sadly, we are doing just that.  This thing we lack so much, is the very thing that can rescue us from the shambles we have created. Each one of us is at war, within ourselves and certainly without. I have to believe that ultimately we are responsible for repairing our own selves so that we can set about fixing what has been so fucked up……

We as a people, humankind have suffered so much.   We did it to ourselves. As long as that is understood, understood completely, we are candidates for working on making things right in the World. Free will and all that jazz.

But at this moment, I feel as if the mindless attacks on such things as our sexuality, or on a commune who grows fantastic veggies but oh yeah, they may smoke weed and get into the music a bit, religious persecution for such things as who we choose to love.

How come all this energy cannot be used to “train up the child”, so that he/she feels love, gives love, seeks love and shares love?

So many forgottens in our own homes  and we still point fingers out those doors and windows.

Don’t give up now

Don’t give up now, not after the battles we’ve won.

Heated blasts we’ve overcome.

It became all too treacherous, devious and frightening.

Occasionally beating off the lechers and those charmers with a fist.

Truthfully, the shit could take another one down.

Of course, hurting souls are to be expected.

Instead of the hurts burning alone, inside, stuck churning.

Facing up to what is offered can turn.

Turn into valid lessons. It is a bittersweet honey.

The wicked and wild transgressions heaped upon shall be the ashes of our Rising Phoenix.

Colors bold, blue, black, yellow and red explode, abound around us.

Glimpses of the gleaming light we must heed.

Wishes to be the practitioner, not the lecturer. A safeguard.

Hold my hand, I have your heart.

Blessings and Bliss amid the chaos, we choose to stand together.

KS 2012

Hey out there, it’s Me!!

The bench of concrete I sat my aching bones on is chilly cold. Like the World is to me right now. Suppose the gray in the sky could add to the cold.

I feel love when C sweetly kisses me on the head as he leaves. Or in S throwing, well, better word: tossing me, a winning scratcher… those are some warmies.

Sweet gestures yes but what if your love bank is in the negative? I feel as if I’ve kept on soldiering even when I could have, realistically, just folded up.

I’m tired.

Maybe it is just all the chaotic fighting and backhanded bullying that is weighing me down.

They ( S n C) my two youngest youngers, like to claim that since they don’t’ get too emotional in their voice or raising said voice as they lob their poisonous missiles, that its okay.

I could let it go, mostly, those venom filled voices, really just echoing shadows of what it is they are actually feeling. Some of us are just incapable of relating what our churning minds and hearts are trying to say. I am only learning it myself and in less than a month…um, let’s just say, half a century??? Holy Moly…okay wait, I digress….I could also let it go, mostly, because I completely understand why they could have such feelings of resentment or bitterness towards me. I drug em through it, no doubt about it.

The missiles, as they look at me with these eyes filled with pain, have become too much.  It’s misdirected and misunderstood.  I know this, in my mind.  It’s my heart, in fact, my very Spirit that is being severely wounded by their choice of words, their choice in a fighting style (which to me, is all grizzly bear (cub) like.  Cubs because they are my babies.

I can forgive this.

After all, I feel a little more solid today.  Mind, Body, Spirit- I’ll get it together.

Coming to the water, and when I say water, I mean the majestic, marvelous, mysterious Ocean.  I can get my scales back.  My scales of balance. Not some mermaid sea creature!  Aw, but I can dream…hold on…  my hair drips a little salt water, hehe…okay, I pretend.  I brought myself here, up the little hill of sand in front of lg station #8.  I marinate in the crashes of the water.  Those surfers out there get it….I wish I had learned to surf…perhaps I still can, just with a shark cage around me.

I slowly start to release or rather relax, start doing breathing…deep breath in through my nose…hold…count of 7, then slowly release at a count of 10.  As I get some cleansing breaths in, at this point, at about the third breath, I can start to feel my mind relaxing.

This day I ask for cleansing as I imagine the swirl and push pull of the heavy life force of the Ocean coursing through me.

I imagine the pains and hurts, anguish, despair, loneliness and downright fear to go with the water, away from me.  Out of me.

I ask for love to take its steed.

Let me be a LoveBeacon LightHouse.

 

ps:  I absolutely have to update again to say, just as I was jotting this down, sitting in the slightly sunnied kitchen table, that boy/man who will soon be 18 walked by,

As he did, nothing was said.  He did reach over and sorta kinda scrub my head.

A LoveTouch.  Thank You. Thank You. Thank You.

Golden Rules. Part A from K

Been re-reading a  book, something to do with some commandments. I like the jacket cover, it fits the Fall I feel coming and starting to even like again.

(Author: Marian Linger)  Oh, the pleasure of reading it once again, knowing how my heart feels, it is so relatable.

As usual, when first opening a book, a reference book most likely, I will go to where led.  A non- fiction will get the first page though.  The words I needed a few days back had to do with just that; words.

The power of words.

That day and since, I’ve been catching up on the book, doing ah ha’s and Wishing.

SPIRIT ABIDES IN ALL THINGS. NAMES AND WORDS HAVE POWER.

The Power of Names and Words

“Words create images in our minds.  A name may create a mental image and a feeling.  However, we’re often unaware of just how intensely names and words affect our daily reality, let alone our spirituality.”

In my case when it comes to names; MJ put some lovely letters together to create my name.  I had such a fabulous, mystical time putting forever labels on my Sons. I can be grateful to her for that, oh yes I can, can!!

Five times I planted my hefty self onto the rocking chair, well more than five times, gee, get it right woman! What I meant to say,  is that during the pregnancies,  carrying a new Soul, five times.   During each of those special times, I planted my huge, overwhelmingly waddle-some body into the rocking chair to meditate, pray, speak, whatever we may choose to call it.  (I call it praying now, them days, oh no, it was meditating, haha), rubbing my hard as a tortoise shell belly, cause them babes were at full attention, right along with me in the naming of! Always alone,  drifting off, swaying up and back, slow and steady in that wooden chair I would wait quietly. However long it took, (more than one rocking session was needed on occasion.) when it came time to name my little riders I instinctively wanted their input.  In my dark mind, letters would sort of scoot across the canvas, sort of like in a power point presentation. Which at that time, um, I did not even know what that was!

Each of them helped in the decision is what I know.

As a young girl with my dreamy fantasies, I had chosen my first two names …I was gonna do my thing and have two babies, to include a boy and a girl. Right. I can chuckle now at my thoughts then….whew….only slightly different now.

Shawn Michael and Shana Marie.

But wait now…My first younger….gee, even with my own little mind made up, he let me know what was up.  Subtly.  As we were rocking, and again, I would be rocking my belly, then once in a while,  I would pray that I didn’t have a red headed baby.  Now hang on, don’t jump on me yet.  My mothers’ people are rampant with the red heads, my sibling, (Hi!!) has a gorgeous color of auburn coming out of her head! The father of my Son had a dirty blonde/brownish thing going with his hair color.  Mine was a major mixture of red, brown, blonde, possibly even orange (as one hair dresser told me of my natural color, back then) (Hello, I’m soon 50 here, its color me up days) , anyhoo….I would  say “Please dear God, don’t let me have a red headed baby.” Not because of the red  hair color  or anything about that….it was because I wanted to save my child from the misery of being teased and bullied because he was different.  Like my sister.

So, my baby and I prayed and it was declared Shawn Michael he would stay called.  After all, wasn’t there a reason I already had that name?  Or perhaps it fits the Irish blood I think we have running through us? On the other hand, was it because I made that silly prayer and the Universe instead heard me say “Please let me have a red headed baby”?  Hhhmmm, I wonder.

When he popped out, pretty orange from head to toe, that glorious golden red hair shined at me. He shined at me. As it turns out, this 31 year old, tall drink of water fits perfectly his chosen name.

My second Son tells me every time we speak of the whole name naming and the fact that he won out and got to be called his given name.  It was going to be Shane (variation of Shana, did you notice?) Then we hit the rocking chair after Shane got used by another family with child that was close to our family at the time. It was quick to come to me…as it turns out, this strong and intense, gorgeous blue eyed Soul has a great sounding moniker that fits him very well.  His birth name is strong when you add all three together. Very nice.

Three other Sons were born to me, close to 10 years later.  Rocking chair, big Mama and quiet times led to three more amazing names….each name I have noticed casually, are very old…

I wanted to speak more on Words and the power they have…..

THE WORD, THE PEN, THE SWORD: THINK, SPEAK, WRITE, and WEAVE MAGICK with clear understanding.

“As the aphorism rightly says, “The pen is mightier than the sword.”  Our ancestors were aware of the truth of word power.  In magick and life, they chose their words carefully. Whole languages developed around key issues in a representative culture, and the feelings of that people toward those issues.  Additionally, stories from around the world illustrate a strong belief in the power of words.  Consider:

***In the Bible, God speaks all things into existence.

***The Egyptian god Ptah utters words of manifestation to bring the Universe (and Egyptians called their written language the speech of the Gods).

***In Greco-Egyptian magical papri, the names of non-Greek and non-Egyptian deities are invoked, as well as long strings of vowel sounds.  Historians feel these may have served a purpose similar to the Indian mantra, namely to transport the chanter into an extraordinary state of being or to impart power and energy to the magickal spell or ritual.

***Samurai warriors used a kiai (shout of power) to focus themselves and direct their intention before battle.

***The bard or troubadour of the Middle Ages used the emotional power of words (in song and poetry) to sway people either to help with a political or social cause, or to increase the amount of money received for a performance.

In my world, words, whether spoken, read or heard, has alwaze and will alwaze have a profound effect on me.  We spit things out so quickly, a lot of times in anger, or  hear words on a television off in a corner, going for reasons un known but that can send our mood on a wild roller coaster ride.  The music we listen too, the list goes on and on. If we think for one little moment that our words aren’t powerful.  Look at the bullying running rampant in our country….too many times a younger hears how ugly she is or the little boy being taunted over his red hair…or, or, or….then a young man of 18 takes his own life after hearing words that caused his heart to feel shame.  A stupid rumor causes a gentlemen to lose his job which in turn leads to a divorce and his family is ripped apart.  However the case, our cavalier attitude to what we let ourselves be influenced by as far as media, and all the other oulpours of crud goes, is causing us great damage.  Consistently.  And we seem to be oblivious to it.

Most recently, my ears have been assaulted and I am not exaggerating when I choose that word.  My trine gets deeply wounded by misguided anger and fears of others.  And we all must work it out.  Alas, most of us choose not to grow and figure out our own yellow brick roads of happiness.  I use the yellow brick road to skip along in my mind, singing, ***lalalalala***silly songs of glee….it’s a sunshine day comes to mind right now)  I am still skipping at least.  I am grateful for this. Truly.

If we can do one thing this day, if I can do one thing this day, I choose to utter words, think words, choose my mind diet wisely, and be better for it.