Here's a question or two for you:
Why is someone who considers every human being truly equal considered "fringe" or "radical"?
Why is something we are taught in preschool and/or kindergarten - that everyone is the same and that we should treat everyone nicely and with kindness - thrown out the window at a certain point?
Showing posts with label State of The World. Show all posts
Showing posts with label State of The World. Show all posts
3/26/08
1/2/08
And I Think To Myself
The past month or so, I've been doing a lot of reflecting.
And as many of you are probably doing, I am reflecting on the year, my conduct and progress or lack thereof in 2007, etc.
I'm of the mindset that resolutions are pretty lame.
In fact, as I was watching the Today show this morning, I began getting just a tad bit annoyed.
I began thinking about this cycle of unrealistic expectations and inevitable let-downs.
The pieces of spirit that can become broken and left to feel like a failure because
perhaps it didn't quite shave the body down to some ridiculous notion of what beauty or proper weight should be.
Maybe having a cluttered home really is the sign of a happy home and not having a closet that looks like it was ripped out of Posh's house isn't the sign of a failure.
Maybe driving a Honda or a Hyundai rather than a BMW or a Bentley is OK.
I don't know. I mean, there is more than one way up the mountain. I just think resolutions are a set-up for failure and shouldn't we be doing something to feel better about ourselves and each other?
As I've been reflecting on the past year and such, I was thinking about simplicity.
How it is the teeniest of acts that really do start a movement.
Whether that movement be within society or simply within someone else's heart.
That in one way or another we all have the capacity to do this, we just try to make it seem so hard as a way to justify being asses to each other.
An experience I had the other day, finally made the lightbulb go on.
You all know, that have been reading for a time, that I truly try to make it a point to let others know I care. Sometimes it is misconstrued, sometimes it is seen for what it is.
Sometimes I care so much that I become immobilized. It's almost more than I can bear to do or to speak. I become so overwhelmed, so full.
Anyway, I've noticed that opportunities have not presented themselves in "grand" ways for me to extend my hand.
And in fact, I had become quite irritated because I thought I had fallen off the giving train.
That people were not being sent my way for a reason (if that makes any sense).
And the giving of myself feels better.
It feels awful when I am not.
I've been making it a point lately to look directly at people when I am out walking.
And not only that
but to smile at them.
Possibly even say "hello" or "good morning".
Whatever feeling presents itself is what I will do.
(this paragraph makes me sound like a grump. i keep picturing in my head old man Potter from It's A Wonderful Life. I truly don't believe I walked around like that before. I just went about my business like a million other worker ants.
So I've been making this effort, which brings me to the point.....are you shocked that there was one?)
I was on the phone with my academic institution to ask a question the other day. A lady was assisting me with my question and was most helpful. As the call ended, I simply said to her Have a good day.
Pretty innocent. Pretty pedestrian.
I didn't say to her I have the address and phone number to Beckham's house. He's waiting for your call.
I didn't say Oh, I happen to have this extra $1M sitting in my back pocket. Want it?
I simply said Have a good day.
And there was a reaction.
A reaction of shock.
A reaction of pleasant surprise at such an utterance.
(Now listen, I'm not claiming to be this wonderful, always do-gooder.
I know this tale of human interaction is one that could be told a thousand times a day by a thousand other writers who could write it in a more brilliant way. I am simply sharing this experience and the shock of it with you. Sharing it from me, Mrs. Incredible (Tabba) to you, lovely reader.)
I hung up the phone feeling glad that she got off the phone with me in such a way.
And a little sad too.
Sad because it sounded as if she had never heard it before.
How is it that we are so 'busy', so clinical with each other?
I am hopeful though.
Hopeful that things will get better.
Hopeful that maybe if we all could take these resolutions and maybe cram them up - er, that's not nice, T.
(try again)
OK.
Hopeful that maybe rather than worry about driving a car that costs as much as it would to feed a small nation or injecting foreign materials into our faces, or hell worrying about the pile of papers that cram your credenza, desk, and sock drawer
we could just take the time to say
Have a good day.
And smile.
Maybe say hello or good morning.
It sounds idealistic.
I know.
But it makes a difference.
And as many of you are probably doing, I am reflecting on the year, my conduct and progress or lack thereof in 2007, etc.
I'm of the mindset that resolutions are pretty lame.
In fact, as I was watching the Today show this morning, I began getting just a tad bit annoyed.
I began thinking about this cycle of unrealistic expectations and inevitable let-downs.
The pieces of spirit that can become broken and left to feel like a failure because
perhaps it didn't quite shave the body down to some ridiculous notion of what beauty or proper weight should be.
Maybe having a cluttered home really is the sign of a happy home and not having a closet that looks like it was ripped out of Posh's house isn't the sign of a failure.
Maybe driving a Honda or a Hyundai rather than a BMW or a Bentley is OK.
I don't know. I mean, there is more than one way up the mountain. I just think resolutions are a set-up for failure and shouldn't we be doing something to feel better about ourselves and each other?
As I've been reflecting on the past year and such, I was thinking about simplicity.
How it is the teeniest of acts that really do start a movement.
Whether that movement be within society or simply within someone else's heart.
That in one way or another we all have the capacity to do this, we just try to make it seem so hard as a way to justify being asses to each other.
An experience I had the other day, finally made the lightbulb go on.
You all know, that have been reading for a time, that I truly try to make it a point to let others know I care. Sometimes it is misconstrued, sometimes it is seen for what it is.
Sometimes I care so much that I become immobilized. It's almost more than I can bear to do or to speak. I become so overwhelmed, so full.
Anyway, I've noticed that opportunities have not presented themselves in "grand" ways for me to extend my hand.
And in fact, I had become quite irritated because I thought I had fallen off the giving train.
That people were not being sent my way for a reason (if that makes any sense).
And the giving of myself feels better.
It feels awful when I am not.
I've been making it a point lately to look directly at people when I am out walking.
And not only that
but to smile at them.
Possibly even say "hello" or "good morning".
Whatever feeling presents itself is what I will do.
(this paragraph makes me sound like a grump. i keep picturing in my head old man Potter from It's A Wonderful Life. I truly don't believe I walked around like that before. I just went about my business like a million other worker ants.
So I've been making this effort, which brings me to the point.....are you shocked that there was one?)
I was on the phone with my academic institution to ask a question the other day. A lady was assisting me with my question and was most helpful. As the call ended, I simply said to her Have a good day.
Pretty innocent. Pretty pedestrian.
I didn't say to her I have the address and phone number to Beckham's house. He's waiting for your call.
I didn't say Oh, I happen to have this extra $1M sitting in my back pocket. Want it?
I simply said Have a good day.
And there was a reaction.
A reaction of shock.
A reaction of pleasant surprise at such an utterance.
(Now listen, I'm not claiming to be this wonderful, always do-gooder.
I know this tale of human interaction is one that could be told a thousand times a day by a thousand other writers who could write it in a more brilliant way. I am simply sharing this experience and the shock of it with you. Sharing it from me, Mrs. Incredible (Tabba) to you, lovely reader.)
I hung up the phone feeling glad that she got off the phone with me in such a way.
And a little sad too.
Sad because it sounded as if she had never heard it before.
How is it that we are so 'busy', so clinical with each other?
I am hopeful though.
Hopeful that things will get better.
Hopeful that maybe if we all could take these resolutions and maybe cram them up - er, that's not nice, T.
(try again)
OK.
Hopeful that maybe rather than worry about driving a car that costs as much as it would to feed a small nation or injecting foreign materials into our faces, or hell worrying about the pile of papers that cram your credenza, desk, and sock drawer
we could just take the time to say
Have a good day.
And smile.
Maybe say hello or good morning.
It sounds idealistic.
I know.
But it makes a difference.
9/11/07
Misty Morning II
What can I say today that someone else isn't already saying more eloquently?
Last year, I did a ranting, raving post. And I have to say that I don't feel much differently today than I did last year.
All I can say is I Remember.
And I'm sure you do too.
Sometimes, I feel that is the best that we can do.
Because there are not always clear cut solutions and answers.
And the mentality that people have of
How could that happen here?
Bothers me on so many levels.
All I know is that today I will have a hard time playing silly games and painting with my little preschoolers.
I'll have a hard time looking at them and knowing that the world as it was is so completely changed from the days before towers fell and planes crashed, to the now.
It's with a heavier heart and a heavier mind.
I'll look at these children who are so pure in their ignorance
and all I can do
is Hope.
Last year, I did a ranting, raving post. And I have to say that I don't feel much differently today than I did last year.
All I can say is I Remember.
And I'm sure you do too.
Sometimes, I feel that is the best that we can do.
Because there are not always clear cut solutions and answers.
And the mentality that people have of
How could that happen here?
Bothers me on so many levels.
All I know is that today I will have a hard time playing silly games and painting with my little preschoolers.
I'll have a hard time looking at them and knowing that the world as it was is so completely changed from the days before towers fell and planes crashed, to the now.
It's with a heavier heart and a heavier mind.
I'll look at these children who are so pure in their ignorance
and all I can do
is Hope.
9/6/07
On Yesterdays and Tomorrows
When I think about how to make this world a better place, I instantly look to the generation that is waiting-in-the-wings.
The ones that don't even know that the weight has been placed upon them.
I think about what a load that is for these up-comers to bear. Considering their ages haven't even hit double-digits yet.
That it is completely up to them to rid the world of the nasties.
But that is faulty logic.
We, the adults - the generation of the now, might not be able to fix things but it is up to us to set the examples and to lead accordingly.
I got to thinking about how my compassionate heart became that way. How as much of a spit-fire I can be IRL, I am or try to be, kind. I tend to see things that others might not where other people are concerned.
And I got to thinking about how that came about.
I reflected on the adults in my life that fashioned and molded me. The adults who made the most postive lasting impressions.
You all are probably rolling your eyes and sighing, saying to yourselves Yeah, we know. We know. Your dad and that damned reggae music. Sheesh. Shut your pie-hole, would ya?
And while yes, my dad had the major positive influence on me, my compassion, my kindness, my manners came from my grandmother (my dad's mom).
She was the one that taught me to think of others first.
To always be polite.
To welcome anyone - to try and make them feel at home.
If anything, my grandmother was about propriety. And I don't mean that in a snooty way.
She just strongly felt that you should act a certain way to other people. And that way was always kind and polite.
And many others had their hands in the pot as far as the shaping-of-me went.
There were religious leaders, parishioners of our church, teachers, other relatives, etc.
It certainly wasn't any one person.
There were many.
I see how our society really gears toward the individualistic approach to things and I can't help but to think how sad it is.
And I reflect about how we push our kids to be independent, to not need anyone. Or at least need others as little as possible.
And then how shocked we are when they do find their wings and find their way and gain that independence, we scratch our heads and wonder
Why don't they need us? Why don't they come around?
I think about the gaping hole that would be left behind in my spirit or creative mind had I not been influenced by Mrs. Duncan, my 4th & 5th grade art teacher.
The battered little girl (emotionally) who never asked for hugs, but got them on a daily basis from Mrs. Bridge nee Pokoiski.
Or the feeling of belonging to something bigger at Christ Episcopal Church because of Rev. Lindermann, Mrs. Budd, Mr. & Mrs. Warren, Mr. Mitchell, Mrs. Bright, Mrs. Bonner and all of my friends in my sunday school class.
Or the unconditional love from Aunt Marie, Aunt Vicki, my Dad, Eileen (my stepmom), and my younger brothers and my mom.
The list could go on.
I might be in my metamorphosis stage right now. And I am certainly still working on myself to help better the world. I'm still trying to figure out what that means for me, exactly.
And those people above had a hand in it.
When I feel my heart overflow for someone, it is because of the love and caring that these people have showered on me.
And adults everywhere should be so mindful of the little eyes that look up to us and the little hands that need holding.
While they may be the future
We are the now.
The ones that don't even know that the weight has been placed upon them.
I think about what a load that is for these up-comers to bear. Considering their ages haven't even hit double-digits yet.
That it is completely up to them to rid the world of the nasties.
But that is faulty logic.
We, the adults - the generation of the now, might not be able to fix things but it is up to us to set the examples and to lead accordingly.
I got to thinking about how my compassionate heart became that way. How as much of a spit-fire I can be IRL, I am or try to be, kind. I tend to see things that others might not where other people are concerned.
And I got to thinking about how that came about.
I reflected on the adults in my life that fashioned and molded me. The adults who made the most postive lasting impressions.
You all are probably rolling your eyes and sighing, saying to yourselves Yeah, we know. We know. Your dad and that damned reggae music. Sheesh. Shut your pie-hole, would ya?
And while yes, my dad had the major positive influence on me, my compassion, my kindness, my manners came from my grandmother (my dad's mom).
She was the one that taught me to think of others first.
To always be polite.
To welcome anyone - to try and make them feel at home.
If anything, my grandmother was about propriety. And I don't mean that in a snooty way.
She just strongly felt that you should act a certain way to other people. And that way was always kind and polite.
And many others had their hands in the pot as far as the shaping-of-me went.
There were religious leaders, parishioners of our church, teachers, other relatives, etc.
It certainly wasn't any one person.
There were many.
I see how our society really gears toward the individualistic approach to things and I can't help but to think how sad it is.
And I reflect about how we push our kids to be independent, to not need anyone. Or at least need others as little as possible.
And then how shocked we are when they do find their wings and find their way and gain that independence, we scratch our heads and wonder
Why don't they need us? Why don't they come around?
I think about the gaping hole that would be left behind in my spirit or creative mind had I not been influenced by Mrs. Duncan, my 4th & 5th grade art teacher.
The battered little girl (emotionally) who never asked for hugs, but got them on a daily basis from Mrs. Bridge nee Pokoiski.
Or the feeling of belonging to something bigger at Christ Episcopal Church because of Rev. Lindermann, Mrs. Budd, Mr. & Mrs. Warren, Mr. Mitchell, Mrs. Bright, Mrs. Bonner and all of my friends in my sunday school class.
Or the unconditional love from Aunt Marie, Aunt Vicki, my Dad, Eileen (my stepmom), and my younger brothers and my mom.
The list could go on.
I might be in my metamorphosis stage right now. And I am certainly still working on myself to help better the world. I'm still trying to figure out what that means for me, exactly.
And those people above had a hand in it.
When I feel my heart overflow for someone, it is because of the love and caring that these people have showered on me.
And adults everywhere should be so mindful of the little eyes that look up to us and the little hands that need holding.
While they may be the future
We are the now.
9/4/07
Dignity In The Diner
Lately I've been thinking a lot about growing old and maintaining dignity.
I've been thinking about how I envision myself still vibrant and active when I hit my elder years.
I don't know if that is what will happen.
But that's what I hope for myself.
I've seen many an elderly person turn into a bitter shell of the young people they once were.
I listen to the lonely in their voice and think I'd probably sound just as scared and bitter when faced with this kind of lonely and/or this kind of pain on a daily basis. Who could stand to live with such physical pain?
Not to mention, feeling worthless and left behind.
I think each gender struggles with that worthless feeling, but in different aspects.
Males feel it after a life spent working and providing and no longer being able to do so.
And females feel it after a life spent working and caretaking and no longer feeling needed and valuable.
And of course growing old with dignity, I'm mindful of how our bodies and our minds can turn on us on a dime and we have no control over that either.
And again, just how scary that must be.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
On Saturday, we rolled out of bed early, threw on some clothes and took the kids to our favorite diner for breakfast.
And can I quickly just tell you how much I adore going out to breakfast on a weekend morning?
I LOVE it. I love sitting down to a cup of coffee made by someone else and being waited on.
The anticipation of the meal.....
Anyway...we all love this diner.
We walk in and there is a crowd by the door waiting to be seated.
Gracie is hanging out in my arms "being shy".
And Connor is dancing around the register counter waiting to pick out his lollipop (don't ask) with Rav.
Gracie and I head off to one side as the door/register/waiting area are very close together and we are trying to leave room for people to walk through.
And as we're standing there I look over to my right (where there is an alcove of sorts with about 6 booths and a narrow walkway to get to those booths) and there is an elderly gentleman with a walker. He is trying to make his way to his table and gets stopped by a fellow female patron who knows him. He apparently has been battling a cold and has stopped to ask him how he's feeling and just generally speak to him.
As they are speaking a waitress and a female buser (is it with 2 s's?) are waiting to get by.
The waitress gets huffy and walks away.
And the buser tries to scoot past and can't.
So she waits.
Another female buser walks up to her and they begin speaking in their native language and are most obviously talking about this gentleman.
The waitress then walks back and sees he is now making his way back to his booth, very slowly, but is making his way nonetheless.
And as she is standing behind him, she is shaking her head and muttering nastily under her breath.
The poor fellow gets the wheel to his walker stuck, which hinders his forward motion, and her agitation grows.
(Mind you, this woman - the waitress - is middle-aged. Probably in her late 50's).
I was so taken aback by such passively cruel behavior.
Never once did she offer to help him.
Never once did she try to move him along by simply talking to him and escorting him to his table.
And he didn't even know the subtle "cruelty" that was being pushed in his direction.
Which is probably for the best.
But I saw it.
And it bothered me.
And I did nothing.
I worry about elders and those incapable of caring for themselves being subjected to cruelty in facilities - let's face it, it happens - it's happening in my home state right now. Today.
And fret over what is being done to these people or not done.
And I can't do anything about it.
I'm one person who can't save the world.
But here I was in a public place and saw such a disgusting display of intolerance.
And I chose to do nothing.
Because I was waiting in line with my family to get served a $5.00 breakfast.
And I chose to not act.
This got me thinking about all of the times we choose not to act over things we think are "little" or "benign". And how they really add up.
We might not see how one action or inaction effects the other, but they do.
I again do my infamous projecting and wonder if I would want someone to stand up for me or help out if that were me or Rav in that restaurant.
And of course, the answer is yes.
Those of us who can, need to rally for those who can't for themselves.
Little kindnesses.
Little kindnesses.
Growing older and growing period, with dignity.
I'm still working on it.
I've been thinking about how I envision myself still vibrant and active when I hit my elder years.
I don't know if that is what will happen.
But that's what I hope for myself.
I've seen many an elderly person turn into a bitter shell of the young people they once were.
I listen to the lonely in their voice and think I'd probably sound just as scared and bitter when faced with this kind of lonely and/or this kind of pain on a daily basis. Who could stand to live with such physical pain?
Not to mention, feeling worthless and left behind.
I think each gender struggles with that worthless feeling, but in different aspects.
Males feel it after a life spent working and providing and no longer being able to do so.
And females feel it after a life spent working and caretaking and no longer feeling needed and valuable.
And of course growing old with dignity, I'm mindful of how our bodies and our minds can turn on us on a dime and we have no control over that either.
And again, just how scary that must be.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
On Saturday, we rolled out of bed early, threw on some clothes and took the kids to our favorite diner for breakfast.
And can I quickly just tell you how much I adore going out to breakfast on a weekend morning?
I LOVE it. I love sitting down to a cup of coffee made by someone else and being waited on.
The anticipation of the meal.....
Anyway...we all love this diner.
We walk in and there is a crowd by the door waiting to be seated.
Gracie is hanging out in my arms "being shy".
And Connor is dancing around the register counter waiting to pick out his lollipop (don't ask) with Rav.
Gracie and I head off to one side as the door/register/waiting area are very close together and we are trying to leave room for people to walk through.
And as we're standing there I look over to my right (where there is an alcove of sorts with about 6 booths and a narrow walkway to get to those booths) and there is an elderly gentleman with a walker. He is trying to make his way to his table and gets stopped by a fellow female patron who knows him. He apparently has been battling a cold and has stopped to ask him how he's feeling and just generally speak to him.
As they are speaking a waitress and a female buser (is it with 2 s's?) are waiting to get by.
The waitress gets huffy and walks away.
And the buser tries to scoot past and can't.
So she waits.
Another female buser walks up to her and they begin speaking in their native language and are most obviously talking about this gentleman.
The waitress then walks back and sees he is now making his way back to his booth, very slowly, but is making his way nonetheless.
And as she is standing behind him, she is shaking her head and muttering nastily under her breath.
The poor fellow gets the wheel to his walker stuck, which hinders his forward motion, and her agitation grows.
(Mind you, this woman - the waitress - is middle-aged. Probably in her late 50's).
I was so taken aback by such passively cruel behavior.
Never once did she offer to help him.
Never once did she try to move him along by simply talking to him and escorting him to his table.
And he didn't even know the subtle "cruelty" that was being pushed in his direction.
Which is probably for the best.
But I saw it.
And it bothered me.
And I did nothing.
I worry about elders and those incapable of caring for themselves being subjected to cruelty in facilities - let's face it, it happens - it's happening in my home state right now. Today.
And fret over what is being done to these people or not done.
And I can't do anything about it.
I'm one person who can't save the world.
But here I was in a public place and saw such a disgusting display of intolerance.
And I chose to do nothing.
Because I was waiting in line with my family to get served a $5.00 breakfast.
And I chose to not act.
This got me thinking about all of the times we choose not to act over things we think are "little" or "benign". And how they really add up.
We might not see how one action or inaction effects the other, but they do.
I again do my infamous projecting and wonder if I would want someone to stand up for me or help out if that were me or Rav in that restaurant.
And of course, the answer is yes.
Those of us who can, need to rally for those who can't for themselves.
Little kindnesses.
Little kindnesses.
Growing older and growing period, with dignity.
I'm still working on it.
4/18/07
Can't Bear To Feel
I remember having a conversation with someone regarding what she does for a living. She works in an assisted living facility. She was saying that she felt like something was wrong with her because years ago, when (not if) one of the residents passed away, she would cry. She would feel loss. But as of lately, she said she just felt numb.
I felt what she was saying and said, What I find interesting is that you hear how dumb our country is (and to a certain extent that is true). But what occurs to me is that our country isn't necessarily being "dumbed" down. We're being numbed down.
I hate to admit that maybe I fall into that category. I am sad and heartbroken by what happened at VT. I am outraged, in a way, about people speculating and hypothesizing that this could have been stopped. On one hand, that may be true.
But what I'm talking about is that parents everywhere want to know they can send their babies out into the world and they will be safe. Despite every measure toward safety and security we take, you can't stop madness.
Madness is an energy entity that we cannot prepare for entirely.
And a random act of madness is almost completely unstoppable.
The thing is, we see so much that makes us immune to basic human caring.
And we see so little that puts us in touch with it as well.
There are unspeakable horrors that go on on a daily basis. But we get the CNN version, the Fox News version. Hell, we can't even see a picture of a flag-draped coffin.
We get so used to hearing about atrocities that we tend to shrug our shoulders and just go on about our day.
And then we do feel something and we balm it with whatever. Myself included.
What is it that we can't feel anymore?
Do we think we're too busy?
That we're above it?
What is it that we think feelings are so 1960's and 70's?
Is it that we think we can better survive but being one, giant collective hamster on a wheel? Nose down, not thinking, just acting. Going through the motions.
Day in and day out.
What many may not realize is while we block out negative feelings, we may also be blocking out the
Joy, as well.
I know that often times people that know me in 3-D life might tend to look at me as a gloom & doomer. That I'm, perhaps, too sensitive. That I see all of the trouble. I see all of the problems.
And I guess, to some extent that is true.
I'm not a surface person.
I'm a meat & guts person.
I cannot help that I can feel what someone is feeling.
I cannot help that, at times, I embrace hard times because they, in the past, have made me the person I am.
I know that once the turmoil abates there is a new, stronger version of myself that has learned something. That has somehow reaped a benefit or a character value.
I think by keeping the world at an arm's length, by keeping ourselves so far removed from what humanity really means, what brotherhood & sisterhood, mankind, and love means we are doing ourselves a great disservice. We are hiding from how things feel. How it feels to have someone cry on your shoulder and be a cocoon for someone. A place where they can harbor themselves from the storm and come out a little shinier than when they went in.
Our souls seem so cold toward one another.
And all while hundreds, possibly thousands grieve. They try to pick up the pieces of who they were on Sunday evening. While all of America and possibly the world is talking about this. Some of us are feeling it. And some of us are hiding.
Our President will try to fight lawmakers today.
In an attempt to gain funding and more support for a War.
A war that puts tragedies like VT into a grim perspective.
He will do this a day after he has spoken at VT.
I know how that makes me feel.
How does that make you feel?
I felt what she was saying and said, What I find interesting is that you hear how dumb our country is (and to a certain extent that is true). But what occurs to me is that our country isn't necessarily being "dumbed" down. We're being numbed down.
I hate to admit that maybe I fall into that category. I am sad and heartbroken by what happened at VT. I am outraged, in a way, about people speculating and hypothesizing that this could have been stopped. On one hand, that may be true.
But what I'm talking about is that parents everywhere want to know they can send their babies out into the world and they will be safe. Despite every measure toward safety and security we take, you can't stop madness.
Madness is an energy entity that we cannot prepare for entirely.
And a random act of madness is almost completely unstoppable.
The thing is, we see so much that makes us immune to basic human caring.
And we see so little that puts us in touch with it as well.
There are unspeakable horrors that go on on a daily basis. But we get the CNN version, the Fox News version. Hell, we can't even see a picture of a flag-draped coffin.
We get so used to hearing about atrocities that we tend to shrug our shoulders and just go on about our day.
And then we do feel something and we balm it with whatever. Myself included.
What is it that we can't feel anymore?
Do we think we're too busy?
That we're above it?
What is it that we think feelings are so 1960's and 70's?
Is it that we think we can better survive but being one, giant collective hamster on a wheel? Nose down, not thinking, just acting. Going through the motions.
Day in and day out.
What many may not realize is while we block out negative feelings, we may also be blocking out the
Joy, as well.
I know that often times people that know me in 3-D life might tend to look at me as a gloom & doomer. That I'm, perhaps, too sensitive. That I see all of the trouble. I see all of the problems.
And I guess, to some extent that is true.
I'm not a surface person.
I'm a meat & guts person.
I cannot help that I can feel what someone is feeling.
I cannot help that, at times, I embrace hard times because they, in the past, have made me the person I am.
I know that once the turmoil abates there is a new, stronger version of myself that has learned something. That has somehow reaped a benefit or a character value.
I think by keeping the world at an arm's length, by keeping ourselves so far removed from what humanity really means, what brotherhood & sisterhood, mankind, and love means we are doing ourselves a great disservice. We are hiding from how things feel. How it feels to have someone cry on your shoulder and be a cocoon for someone. A place where they can harbor themselves from the storm and come out a little shinier than when they went in.
Our souls seem so cold toward one another.
And all while hundreds, possibly thousands grieve. They try to pick up the pieces of who they were on Sunday evening. While all of America and possibly the world is talking about this. Some of us are feeling it. And some of us are hiding.
Our President will try to fight lawmakers today.
In an attempt to gain funding and more support for a War.
A war that puts tragedies like VT into a grim perspective.
He will do this a day after he has spoken at VT.
I know how that makes me feel.
How does that make you feel?
4/17/07
Necessary Silence
I need to be silent. I cannot post about inane things.
My mind is on Virginia Tech and the lives making their way, trying to make sense, moving on and of course...
the lives lost.
I will be back when I can say something meaningful about this.
Or when I feel it is appropriate to chatter on about whatever.
Let us be thankful, mindful, aware, and vigilant.
Our world is hurting.
Our people are hurting.
Let's heal.
My mind is on Virginia Tech and the lives making their way, trying to make sense, moving on and of course...
the lives lost.
I will be back when I can say something meaningful about this.
Or when I feel it is appropriate to chatter on about whatever.
Let us be thankful, mindful, aware, and vigilant.
Our world is hurting.
Our people are hurting.
Let's heal.
4/5/07
A Thin Slice of Humanity
OK, look.....I try not to get into religion. With anyone. Let alone on here.
Yeah, I know I rant about politics or the state our country is in (or not in). But that's just because I think we all need to be more aware.
I just received an email. And despite my better judgement I began to read it. I haven't even gotten 1/4 of the way through it and before I became so infuriated I had to immediately begin a blog post about it.
This email began with this woman in an airport who is reading her bible. And how she is sooo happy to be living in The Spirit. I'm sorry but these kinds of things scare me & I don't even know why I was entertaining this email. She looks up and sees a man sitting in a wheelchair who is obviously sick, old, hungry, tired and/or all of these. She keeps looking at him and wondering what his story is. And this line...this is what has my panties in a bunch:
There I sat, trying to concentrate on the Word to keep from being concerned about a thin slice of humanity served on a wheelchair only a few seats from me.
I'm not going to rant. I'm not going to rave. I'll let these words speak for themselves.
All I really want to say is that this absolutely, definitely, with-out question defines and puts quickly into words the last 7 years in this country.
Can I get an Amen?
Yeah, I know I rant about politics or the state our country is in (or not in). But that's just because I think we all need to be more aware.
I just received an email. And despite my better judgement I began to read it. I haven't even gotten 1/4 of the way through it and before I became so infuriated I had to immediately begin a blog post about it.
This email began with this woman in an airport who is reading her bible. And how she is sooo happy to be living in The Spirit. I'm sorry but these kinds of things scare me & I don't even know why I was entertaining this email. She looks up and sees a man sitting in a wheelchair who is obviously sick, old, hungry, tired and/or all of these. She keeps looking at him and wondering what his story is. And this line...this is what has my panties in a bunch:
There I sat, trying to concentrate on the Word to keep from being concerned about a thin slice of humanity served on a wheelchair only a few seats from me.
I'm not going to rant. I'm not going to rave. I'll let these words speak for themselves.
All I really want to say is that this absolutely, definitely, with-out question defines and puts quickly into words the last 7 years in this country.
Can I get an Amen?
3/12/07
Uncertain Futures
Rav & I, when we first started dating, had the usual conversations regarding our backgrounds - where we went to high school, what we did, who we knew. We soon found out that we knew many of the same people, but somehow missed each other. In fact, a good friend of mine from middle school and part of high school dated Rav's one older brother - and I remember when she did. Rav's other older brother was my ex's boss years back - and I remember vividly my ex speaking of Rav's brother. And another older brother of Rav's dated a girl of a friend of mine from a few years past. It was pretty strange. Our state is rather small, so it's not that much of a stretch, but weird just the same.
I went to the largest high school in the state which prided itself on it's athletic teams. We usually won everything, our kids were usually the kids to beat, etc. Since Rav wrestled for his high school & because of the high school I went to, we knew many of the same people. We began talking of a pretty talented wrestler who I went to middle school & high school with, L. L was a guy that a good friend of mine dated, he was one of the quiet, "bad" boys, however, seemed like a "nice" guy, if that makes any sense. At some point, L's life took a rather tragic turn. I didn't know him enough to know his home life, but I can't imagine it was all that great. It turns out that in 1996 (the year he should have graduated), he was involved in a double murder and now sits on death row in our state. Rav and I have sat and wondered how this could have happened to someone we both knew.
As Rav has been the assistant coach last year & this year of his Alma mater, we've become acquainted with some of the circumstances and messed up family lives these kids are travelling through. It's absolutely heart-breaking. A lot of them are in high school, participating in sports, and working jobs to help support their families - not necessarily working for money to blow at the mall, or money to save for a car. A majority of them are from single-parent (mother) homes. And the thing that strikes me is they are, at the very heart of it, great kids. Granted they get involved in stupid mistakes and general silliness - like most of us do in high school. But they really are just great kids.
Rav & I have tried to help out here and there when we can. Really, it's minimal things like giving rides home to kids who don't have one, we've given kids wrestling shoes and just asked them to "show up" as payment. If, at tournaments we notice someone isn't eating or drinking when everyone else is, we offer them a few bucks....things that might not carry them through the rest of their lives, but trying to do whatever little bit we can.
One wrestler in particular, Rav really took a shining to last year. He's a good kid with a big heart. Whenever we brought Connor to practice, he would make an effort to acknowledge Connor and would ask for his "little buddy" if I showed up to a practice or match without him. He was one of the kids we knew that had a rather rough home life. We knew that he would walk ridiculous amounts of miles from his home to school to make it to practice. We knew that finances were an issue for his family. We knew that he couldn't afford wrestling shoes. He was one of the ones Rav offered shoes to and just asked him to "show up".
This season, Rav noticed that something just wasn't the same with this kid. It turns out that the family has been split up, mom and other siblings living wherever or with whoever, just to survive. And this kid, is living with a family friend or relative (not sure which), while his mom lives somewhere else. Rav & the head coach are trying to provide a sense of security and comfort on the team, but this kid just floundered this year - as to be expected.
At the end of the State Wrestling Tournament a few weeks ago, when Rav returned home he was sharing the highlights and the low-lights of the weekend. He began speaking of an incident that occurred with one of his wrestlers who had money stolen out of his wallet, out of his hotel room (which he shared with two other wrestlers and one of those wrestlers being "Rav's kid"). It turns out through circumstances that are too much to get into here, that all trails led to "Rav's kid". As Rav was telling me the story, I kept saying Please don't say it. Please don't tell me it's him.
Turns out that they couldn't prove he did it or not, so they let it go. But I know we all took it personally. I think we all want different for this kid. We want so much for him to be one of the lucky ones.
After Rav told me this story regarding the kid, I looked at him and said S is a good kid. This is really unfortunate. We know what his situation is and most likely he did this because he came down to States with little or no money. All he's doing is trying to survive. What's unfortunate is that if he doesn't pull himself together, he's going to end up a good kid sitting in jail because he's just doing what he thinks he has to do to survive.
It's so easy for all of us to put up barriers between ourselves and the things that are really going on out there. Distance makes things look so much smaller and farther away. It appears as if we are travelling a road that could never take us there.
I know that we can't save "Rav's kid", S. Just like L's wrestling coach couldn't save him from sitting on death row. He made a bad choice that put himself there. But what is clear to me from seeing how many kids on Rav's team that have supportive families that are intact, is that America's kids are in a world of trouble. And I'm only seeing the context for a handful of kids on a somewhat small team.
I don't know the answers. I know that I can't save the world.
I just become infuriated at the idea that most of this country and many of the people I know, seem to travel through their seemingly comfortable context as if this country - our children -aren't in turmoil. People who are afraid to reach out, afraid to see. So wrapped up in their own that they have no heart for someone else's.
I think about the amount of people who protest about rights of unborn children.
And wonder if they give a shit about the children who are here now and are funneling through a school system, a health care system, a judicial system. Where is the rally for the kids who are so broken, possibly starving for food, love, attention, and acceptance and yet are expected to perform appropriately for state testing and to meet standards.
Tell me:
Do they feel left behind?
And yet I wake up and feel like I can't breathe because the weight of these kids is bearing on me.
I have been wondering and worrying about S ever since Rav shared that story with me.
I went to the largest high school in the state which prided itself on it's athletic teams. We usually won everything, our kids were usually the kids to beat, etc. Since Rav wrestled for his high school & because of the high school I went to, we knew many of the same people. We began talking of a pretty talented wrestler who I went to middle school & high school with, L. L was a guy that a good friend of mine dated, he was one of the quiet, "bad" boys, however, seemed like a "nice" guy, if that makes any sense. At some point, L's life took a rather tragic turn. I didn't know him enough to know his home life, but I can't imagine it was all that great. It turns out that in 1996 (the year he should have graduated), he was involved in a double murder and now sits on death row in our state. Rav and I have sat and wondered how this could have happened to someone we both knew.
As Rav has been the assistant coach last year & this year of his Alma mater, we've become acquainted with some of the circumstances and messed up family lives these kids are travelling through. It's absolutely heart-breaking. A lot of them are in high school, participating in sports, and working jobs to help support their families - not necessarily working for money to blow at the mall, or money to save for a car. A majority of them are from single-parent (mother) homes. And the thing that strikes me is they are, at the very heart of it, great kids. Granted they get involved in stupid mistakes and general silliness - like most of us do in high school. But they really are just great kids.
Rav & I have tried to help out here and there when we can. Really, it's minimal things like giving rides home to kids who don't have one, we've given kids wrestling shoes and just asked them to "show up" as payment. If, at tournaments we notice someone isn't eating or drinking when everyone else is, we offer them a few bucks....things that might not carry them through the rest of their lives, but trying to do whatever little bit we can.
One wrestler in particular, Rav really took a shining to last year. He's a good kid with a big heart. Whenever we brought Connor to practice, he would make an effort to acknowledge Connor and would ask for his "little buddy" if I showed up to a practice or match without him. He was one of the kids we knew that had a rather rough home life. We knew that he would walk ridiculous amounts of miles from his home to school to make it to practice. We knew that finances were an issue for his family. We knew that he couldn't afford wrestling shoes. He was one of the ones Rav offered shoes to and just asked him to "show up".
This season, Rav noticed that something just wasn't the same with this kid. It turns out that the family has been split up, mom and other siblings living wherever or with whoever, just to survive. And this kid, is living with a family friend or relative (not sure which), while his mom lives somewhere else. Rav & the head coach are trying to provide a sense of security and comfort on the team, but this kid just floundered this year - as to be expected.
At the end of the State Wrestling Tournament a few weeks ago, when Rav returned home he was sharing the highlights and the low-lights of the weekend. He began speaking of an incident that occurred with one of his wrestlers who had money stolen out of his wallet, out of his hotel room (which he shared with two other wrestlers and one of those wrestlers being "Rav's kid"). It turns out through circumstances that are too much to get into here, that all trails led to "Rav's kid". As Rav was telling me the story, I kept saying Please don't say it. Please don't tell me it's him.
Turns out that they couldn't prove he did it or not, so they let it go. But I know we all took it personally. I think we all want different for this kid. We want so much for him to be one of the lucky ones.
After Rav told me this story regarding the kid, I looked at him and said S is a good kid. This is really unfortunate. We know what his situation is and most likely he did this because he came down to States with little or no money. All he's doing is trying to survive. What's unfortunate is that if he doesn't pull himself together, he's going to end up a good kid sitting in jail because he's just doing what he thinks he has to do to survive.
It's so easy for all of us to put up barriers between ourselves and the things that are really going on out there. Distance makes things look so much smaller and farther away. It appears as if we are travelling a road that could never take us there.
I know that we can't save "Rav's kid", S. Just like L's wrestling coach couldn't save him from sitting on death row. He made a bad choice that put himself there. But what is clear to me from seeing how many kids on Rav's team that have supportive families that are intact, is that America's kids are in a world of trouble. And I'm only seeing the context for a handful of kids on a somewhat small team.
I don't know the answers. I know that I can't save the world.
I just become infuriated at the idea that most of this country and many of the people I know, seem to travel through their seemingly comfortable context as if this country - our children -aren't in turmoil. People who are afraid to reach out, afraid to see. So wrapped up in their own that they have no heart for someone else's.
I think about the amount of people who protest about rights of unborn children.
And wonder if they give a shit about the children who are here now and are funneling through a school system, a health care system, a judicial system. Where is the rally for the kids who are so broken, possibly starving for food, love, attention, and acceptance and yet are expected to perform appropriately for state testing and to meet standards.
Tell me:
Do they feel left behind?
And yet I wake up and feel like I can't breathe because the weight of these kids is bearing on me.
I have been wondering and worrying about S ever since Rav shared that story with me.
1/15/07
A Moral Imperative
This morning started out a bit rough. Beginning with me being grumpy. After I poured myself a cup of coffee, I began to search the web for some writings and images of Martin Luther King, jr. I immediately found a video of his "I Have A Dream Speech". And instantly a calm washed over me.
As soon as I started the video, Connor excitedly yells out, "Hey! That's Martin Luther King! It's his birthday!!" My eyes filled up with tears and I'm still picking up the gelatinous pieces of my exploding, melting heart.
Way back in the day, I attended a rather new school in our district: Martin Luther King, jr Elementary. We studied Dr. King from September-May. Because of this new school, the name, the legacy, we reaped some pretty cool benefits. Coretta Scott King came to our school and gave a speech. Jesse Jackson visited as well. Though we only heard a few words from him as he passed through the hallways of our school. I have always felt that if I were at any other school, this would not have happened. We wouldn't have learned so much for so long. We might not have necessarily got to actually see Coretta Scott King in person or actually hear her words coming from her mouth only a few feet away.
As I listened to Dr. King's speech this morning, his words rested upon somewhat wisened ears. And so many thoughts came rushing forward. First off was how no matter how many times I hear that speech, it continues to give me goosebumps. Second off is that his message was inclusionary. He wasn't about lifting African-Americans up and pushing Caucasians down. He was about everyone living together because we are all from the same place. We are all, essentially, the same. I mean, you can't get any simpler than that. Then that got me thinking about my race. And some insights that I have been privy to. I've probably been privy too all along, but have just now allowed myself to actually digest them.
For example, in my History class last semester, we began talking about the Civil Rights movement, the women's movement, and John Kenneth Galbraith. We also began discussing the 'new face of poverty' - women and children, primarily. And a young, good-looking, well-dressed guy in my class of my race says, "Well, we don't have abject poverty in this country anymore. People aren't struggling like they used to." I almost fell off of my chair. And I don't know why. Because only a white person could say something so ignorant. And I mean ignorant in the actual definition of the word. I, of course, couldn't keep my mouth shut: "You mean to tell me that you believe abject poverty doesn't exist in this country? Has Katrina taught you nothing? And of course, many people don't think it exists because it's not a picture that this country is happy to hang on it's walls." His response was something that went along the lines of "Well, people are poor now because of Katrina."
Oh My Dear God.
We are so led astray by what is really going on. By our own government and media that I do not know why we are not rioting and marching again.
Which leads me to the next stream of thought. Where are our leaders today? Where are our MLK, jr's and our Rosa Parks'? Is is that they're out there, but they are essentially being censored, shut-down and shut-up? Or is it that no one is willing to stand up for the good of people? I'd really like an answer to this question. I know I'll probably never get it.
I want to feel hopeful that we, as a country, have not become complacent, that we have not moved backward in time. But it is my observation that
we have.
Some would argue that racial justice has been fought for and won.
Some would argue that sexual equality has been fought for and won.
Some would argue that this country has come a long way.
I'm not disagreeing with some of the progress. I mean, I can't be completely negative and say nothing has been accomplished.
But we have new challenges.
And we all need to rise up to those challenges.
The other night, Ravioli was watching the football game between the Philadelphia Eagles and the New Orleans Saints. The camera panned out and took a wide-shout of the whole entire football stadium. You could see how many people were packed into each seat. The amount of people was overwhelming.
I remember watching people in a football stadium not so long ago. During Hurricane Katrina. Desperation, hopelessness, hungry, thirsty, listless babies, panic-stricken mothers, elderly famished. I said to myself, Oh my god. These people were sent there TO die.
And when I saw that football stadium on TV Saturday night, I heard that voice again. Not that the people watching the football game were sent there to die. It was just seeing all of those people, the sheer numbers, was confirmation for some reason. I saw the actual number of people that stadium could hold. And that there is no doubt in my mind that officials knew what was coming. And why in the hell there weren't ample basic supplies was just beyond me. The questions just pile up and compound on top of each other. I'm just as mad about it today as I was then.
Is anyone else?
That is a clear-cut sign, to me, that racial equalities have not been settled. It's a clear-cut sign to me that we are in a class-war here at home. But neither of these, it appears, is being fought for.
What would MLK, jr. have done had he been alive to see such a gross mistreatment of so many individuals of this country?
I have felt the call to become apart of some organized thinking, some organized action. But I don't know where to turn. And maybe others out there feel as I do. Maybe they want to be involved, but don't know if there are any action groups. So, if someone out there knows where to go, please, comment and leave the information. Let that be your service today.
By giving of ourselves, we are giving to so many others. And many times, it takes little effort on our part, to give. And the smallest thing could be the biggest miracle to someone else.
I don't mean to get all preachy. I'm not trying to jam anything down anyone's throat. I just have my own dream of a better way, a better intention. And I know others out there must have the same kinds of dreams.
Let me end this here. But I'm going to make a long post even longer by adding lyrics to a song that I keep hearing in my head right now.
Picture of Jesus
By: Ben Harper
It hangs above my altar
Like they hung him from a cross
I keep one in my wallet
For the times that
I feel lost
In a wooden frame with splinters
Where my family kneels to pray
And if you listen close
You'll hear the words he used to say
I've got a picture of Jesus
In his arms my prayers rest
We've got a picture of Jesus
And with him we shall be forever blessed
Forever blessed
Forever blessed
Now it has been spoken
He would come again
But would we recognize
This king among men
There was a man in our time
His words shine bright like the sun
He tried to lift the masses
And was crucified by a gun
He was a picture of Jesus
With him so many prayers rest
He is a picture of Jesus
In his arms so many
So many prayers
So many prayers rest
With him we shall be forever blessed
Forever blessed
Forever blessed
Some days have no beginning
And some days have no end
Some roads are straight and narrow
And some roads only bend
So let us say a prayer
For every living thing
Walking towards a light
From the cross of a king
We long to be a picture of Jesus
Of Jesus
In his arms
In his arms so many prayers rest
I long to be a picture of Jesus
With him we shall be forever blessed
With him we shall
With him we shall be forever
Oh-Oh- I long
I've got a picture of Jesus
As soon as I started the video, Connor excitedly yells out, "Hey! That's Martin Luther King! It's his birthday!!" My eyes filled up with tears and I'm still picking up the gelatinous pieces of my exploding, melting heart.
Way back in the day, I attended a rather new school in our district: Martin Luther King, jr Elementary. We studied Dr. King from September-May. Because of this new school, the name, the legacy, we reaped some pretty cool benefits. Coretta Scott King came to our school and gave a speech. Jesse Jackson visited as well. Though we only heard a few words from him as he passed through the hallways of our school. I have always felt that if I were at any other school, this would not have happened. We wouldn't have learned so much for so long. We might not have necessarily got to actually see Coretta Scott King in person or actually hear her words coming from her mouth only a few feet away.
As I listened to Dr. King's speech this morning, his words rested upon somewhat wisened ears. And so many thoughts came rushing forward. First off was how no matter how many times I hear that speech, it continues to give me goosebumps. Second off is that his message was inclusionary. He wasn't about lifting African-Americans up and pushing Caucasians down. He was about everyone living together because we are all from the same place. We are all, essentially, the same. I mean, you can't get any simpler than that. Then that got me thinking about my race. And some insights that I have been privy to. I've probably been privy too all along, but have just now allowed myself to actually digest them.
For example, in my History class last semester, we began talking about the Civil Rights movement, the women's movement, and John Kenneth Galbraith. We also began discussing the 'new face of poverty' - women and children, primarily. And a young, good-looking, well-dressed guy in my class of my race says, "Well, we don't have abject poverty in this country anymore. People aren't struggling like they used to." I almost fell off of my chair. And I don't know why. Because only a white person could say something so ignorant. And I mean ignorant in the actual definition of the word. I, of course, couldn't keep my mouth shut: "You mean to tell me that you believe abject poverty doesn't exist in this country? Has Katrina taught you nothing? And of course, many people don't think it exists because it's not a picture that this country is happy to hang on it's walls." His response was something that went along the lines of "Well, people are poor now because of Katrina."
Oh My Dear God.
We are so led astray by what is really going on. By our own government and media that I do not know why we are not rioting and marching again.
Which leads me to the next stream of thought. Where are our leaders today? Where are our MLK, jr's and our Rosa Parks'? Is is that they're out there, but they are essentially being censored, shut-down and shut-up? Or is it that no one is willing to stand up for the good of people? I'd really like an answer to this question. I know I'll probably never get it.
I want to feel hopeful that we, as a country, have not become complacent, that we have not moved backward in time. But it is my observation that
we have.
Some would argue that racial justice has been fought for and won.
Some would argue that sexual equality has been fought for and won.
Some would argue that this country has come a long way.
I'm not disagreeing with some of the progress. I mean, I can't be completely negative and say nothing has been accomplished.
But we have new challenges.
And we all need to rise up to those challenges.
The other night, Ravioli was watching the football game between the Philadelphia Eagles and the New Orleans Saints. The camera panned out and took a wide-shout of the whole entire football stadium. You could see how many people were packed into each seat. The amount of people was overwhelming.
I remember watching people in a football stadium not so long ago. During Hurricane Katrina. Desperation, hopelessness, hungry, thirsty, listless babies, panic-stricken mothers, elderly famished. I said to myself, Oh my god. These people were sent there TO die.
And when I saw that football stadium on TV Saturday night, I heard that voice again. Not that the people watching the football game were sent there to die. It was just seeing all of those people, the sheer numbers, was confirmation for some reason. I saw the actual number of people that stadium could hold. And that there is no doubt in my mind that officials knew what was coming. And why in the hell there weren't ample basic supplies was just beyond me. The questions just pile up and compound on top of each other. I'm just as mad about it today as I was then.
Is anyone else?
That is a clear-cut sign, to me, that racial equalities have not been settled. It's a clear-cut sign to me that we are in a class-war here at home. But neither of these, it appears, is being fought for.
What would MLK, jr. have done had he been alive to see such a gross mistreatment of so many individuals of this country?
I have felt the call to become apart of some organized thinking, some organized action. But I don't know where to turn. And maybe others out there feel as I do. Maybe they want to be involved, but don't know if there are any action groups. So, if someone out there knows where to go, please, comment and leave the information. Let that be your service today.
By giving of ourselves, we are giving to so many others. And many times, it takes little effort on our part, to give. And the smallest thing could be the biggest miracle to someone else.
I don't mean to get all preachy. I'm not trying to jam anything down anyone's throat. I just have my own dream of a better way, a better intention. And I know others out there must have the same kinds of dreams.
Let me end this here. But I'm going to make a long post even longer by adding lyrics to a song that I keep hearing in my head right now.
Picture of Jesus
By: Ben Harper
It hangs above my altar
Like they hung him from a cross
I keep one in my wallet
For the times that
I feel lost
In a wooden frame with splinters
Where my family kneels to pray
And if you listen close
You'll hear the words he used to say
I've got a picture of Jesus
In his arms my prayers rest
We've got a picture of Jesus
And with him we shall be forever blessed
Forever blessed
Forever blessed
Now it has been spoken
He would come again
But would we recognize
This king among men
There was a man in our time
His words shine bright like the sun
He tried to lift the masses
And was crucified by a gun
He was a picture of Jesus
With him so many prayers rest
He is a picture of Jesus
In his arms so many
So many prayers
So many prayers rest
With him we shall be forever blessed
Forever blessed
Forever blessed
Some days have no beginning
And some days have no end
Some roads are straight and narrow
And some roads only bend
So let us say a prayer
For every living thing
Walking towards a light
From the cross of a king
We long to be a picture of Jesus
Of Jesus
In his arms
In his arms so many prayers rest
I long to be a picture of Jesus
With him we shall be forever blessed
With him we shall
With him we shall be forever
Oh-Oh- I long
I've got a picture of Jesus
1/12/07
This Just In....The Bottom Line
I have been slapped in the face the past few days with the following headline:"Hollywood's latest accessory: Babies."
WTF!?!
Maybe I'm too sensitive. Maybe I'm making a mountain out of a mole-hill. But somehow, someway it seems beyond wrong and sickening to compare human life to an arm/neckful of bling, the latest designer bag or the latest designer shoes. I mean, really. C'mon. It was bad enough when the latest accessory for a celebrity to carry were dogs. But now we've debased life even further by this outrageous, stupid headline.
I guess what bothers me about this, and it bothers me on many, many levels is that a) it's true. and 2)this is what "we" think of human life. I've done a few posts on humanitarianism and trying to think about each other and where we all are in the grand scheme of things. But this is demoralizing and despicable. It has just confirmed all of my worst fears: That human life is no more important and is just as dispensible as Dior's Fall Fashion line. The fact that life is something that will last only a season - a minute thought for a minute second. It is in today and out tomorrow. An innocent, completely insecure, totally dependant-upon -others- for -survival human being is now, merely, a decorative ornament.
I guess what bothers me about this, and it bothers me on many, many levels is that a) it's true. and 2)this is what "we" think of human life. I've done a few posts on humanitarianism and trying to think about each other and where we all are in the grand scheme of things. But this is demoralizing and despicable. It has just confirmed all of my worst fears: That human life is no more important and is just as dispensible as Dior's Fall Fashion line. The fact that life is something that will last only a season - a minute thought for a minute second. It is in today and out tomorrow. An innocent, completely insecure, totally dependant-upon -others- for -survival human being is now, merely, a decorative ornament.
It is just that novel of an idea. A precious, human life.
I don't think this country can sink any lower.
Not only does it confirm all of my worst fears about our society, culture, country. But it confirms the worst fears for those people out there in the rest of the world and what they think about Americans as a whole.
Not only does it confirm all of my worst fears about our society, culture, country. But it confirms the worst fears for those people out there in the rest of the world and what they think about Americans as a whole.
And that my dear friends, is
the bottom line.
I can't even begin to wrap my mind around this. It's frightening, frightening stuff.
1/1/07
A Country's Call To Apathy
I can always tell when I'm being sucked inward by the weight of a thought or topic - inward within my own mind, my own thoughts - when I'm looking at things around me, but not seeing. When I'm walking through the day, but not living it. The past few days since I've learned about the execution of Saddam Hussein, that's exactly what I've been doing.
So since I've been in my outwardly shut-down, mulling-things-over mode, I know that this has had a great impact on me.
I just now have come to be able to write about it.
I'm not sure where this post will go. Just bear with me.
The news rocked me. More than I ever could have imagined it would. And for more reasons than I can fully wrap my mind around.
With the start of the New Year, we ended the deadliest month for American casualties for this year in Iraq. But the innocent who have died, I'm sure is above and beyond ours. Why do we not mourn for them? And I have to wonder what is in store for our troops & all of the citizens of Iraq now that Saddam has been hanged. More blood-shed? More torture? More hunger? More crying? More waiting & wondering?
And for what, exactly?
I can think so clearly about how desperate mothers must feel over there. Desperate to protect their babies from bombs & rubble & evacuation.
I've run through that scenario in my own mind. If something catastrophic were to happen outside of my door. Where I would take my babies to hide & be safe. To live. Breathe. Eat.
There are mothers living what I have the luxury of imagining. Half a world a way. But I feel them in their panic. Across the distance.
I so want a perfect world for my babies & for everyone.
I'm certain perfection doesn't exist.
Peace does, though.
So does humanity.
And humanitarianism.
I'm not even sure where I stand on Saddam. He obviously seemed like a bad, bad person. But I'm so confused by lies fed to me by my own government that I'm wondering who really is bad. I've entertained that fact that he didn't deserve what he got.
I can't help but feel like we are doing to Iraq, what we tried to do to the Communists for so long. I feel in my heart of hearts that we are now, The Iron Curtain.
It is so easy to be scared by things we know little of. We went into this war with a President - a country (including myself) who knows little of that culture, that religion. And here we are, pressing our government on this country. Without really getting to know what the greater good is for that country.
We haven't even figured it out here.
Like most of our war efforts, we are only there because we think we have something to gain.
I feel sick as I type this because I have no solution.
I have only thoughts. Gripes. Criticisms.
Pity.
Pity for my country. That I was brought up to believe was great.
But have now seen it for what it is. A big, callous, corporate, apathetic bully.
People like me are viewed as not being supportive of our troops. Of being un-American.
If me wanting our troops home to live, hugging their families, being mommies and daddies, sons and daughters and citizens, is unsupportive, than so be it. It is wrong for me to wish them home, I suppose.
And if being un-American means I care about the state of the world for the whole of humanity, than I'll say it loud and proud, I'm un-American.
I feel pity because I feel that it's going to get way worse for everyone before it gets any better. It's this somber, sick brick in the pit of my stomach.
What I do not have is apathy. But most of this country does. Maybe I am mistaken. Maybe I'm looking in the wrong places.
Our babies, our families, friends deserve a better world than what we are giving ourselves. Creating for everyone.
Americans are not the only ones who are deserving.
So since I've been in my outwardly shut-down, mulling-things-over mode, I know that this has had a great impact on me.
I just now have come to be able to write about it.
I'm not sure where this post will go. Just bear with me.
The news rocked me. More than I ever could have imagined it would. And for more reasons than I can fully wrap my mind around.
With the start of the New Year, we ended the deadliest month for American casualties for this year in Iraq. But the innocent who have died, I'm sure is above and beyond ours. Why do we not mourn for them? And I have to wonder what is in store for our troops & all of the citizens of Iraq now that Saddam has been hanged. More blood-shed? More torture? More hunger? More crying? More waiting & wondering?
And for what, exactly?
I can think so clearly about how desperate mothers must feel over there. Desperate to protect their babies from bombs & rubble & evacuation.
I've run through that scenario in my own mind. If something catastrophic were to happen outside of my door. Where I would take my babies to hide & be safe. To live. Breathe. Eat.
There are mothers living what I have the luxury of imagining. Half a world a way. But I feel them in their panic. Across the distance.
I so want a perfect world for my babies & for everyone.
I'm certain perfection doesn't exist.
Peace does, though.
So does humanity.
And humanitarianism.
I'm not even sure where I stand on Saddam. He obviously seemed like a bad, bad person. But I'm so confused by lies fed to me by my own government that I'm wondering who really is bad. I've entertained that fact that he didn't deserve what he got.
I can't help but feel like we are doing to Iraq, what we tried to do to the Communists for so long. I feel in my heart of hearts that we are now, The Iron Curtain.
It is so easy to be scared by things we know little of. We went into this war with a President - a country (including myself) who knows little of that culture, that religion. And here we are, pressing our government on this country. Without really getting to know what the greater good is for that country.
We haven't even figured it out here.
Like most of our war efforts, we are only there because we think we have something to gain.
I feel sick as I type this because I have no solution.
I have only thoughts. Gripes. Criticisms.
Pity.
Pity for my country. That I was brought up to believe was great.
But have now seen it for what it is. A big, callous, corporate, apathetic bully.
People like me are viewed as not being supportive of our troops. Of being un-American.
If me wanting our troops home to live, hugging their families, being mommies and daddies, sons and daughters and citizens, is unsupportive, than so be it. It is wrong for me to wish them home, I suppose.
And if being un-American means I care about the state of the world for the whole of humanity, than I'll say it loud and proud, I'm un-American.
I feel pity because I feel that it's going to get way worse for everyone before it gets any better. It's this somber, sick brick in the pit of my stomach.
What I do not have is apathy. But most of this country does. Maybe I am mistaken. Maybe I'm looking in the wrong places.
Our babies, our families, friends deserve a better world than what we are giving ourselves. Creating for everyone.
Americans are not the only ones who are deserving.
12/14/06
Guest Spot- Where Are We Going?
Tonight, Tabba and I were watching one of our new favorite TV shows, The First 48. It is on A&E, Thursdays at 9pm. Each episode focuses on 2 separate Homicide investigations. The camera follows the Detectives for the first 48 hours of the investigations. Statistically, after the first 48 hours, the odds that a Homicide will be solved decreases by 50%.
Anyway, each episode is pretty sad, and they usually catch the killer, but not always. Tonight, a mother and her two year old daughter were shot and killed by the mom's boyfriend. He shot the mother twice and shot the daughter once. The daughter was on the front porch of the house. The killer had a long history of violent crimes, and domestic violence.
I just don't get it. I am a probation and parole officer. I supervise some offenders who are on probation for domestic violence. We have a domestic violence unit, whose officers specialize in handling these cases, but not all cases "qualify". I guess beating your wife once, isn't enough. The other day, I was in court for a violation of probation hearing. My offender had violated a no contact order issued by the court. Unfortunately, the court misplaced the report I submitted and it was not in the Judge's file. So the violation was dismissed. This time, the offender did not beat, threaten or harass his wife. But what message does this send to him? He walked through a no contact order and there was no consequence. Now, he is going to be more inclined to do it again. And next time, maybe he won't be so nice. The way these cases are handled is ridiculous.
I see people who spend more time in jail for having a little pot, than people who beat their spouses or children. And these offender's generally already have superiority complexes. They feel that they did not do anything wrong. And we let them keep thinking that. I just don't know where we are going. Just the other day in downstate Delaware, a man killed his estranged wife in front of their 9 year old son. He stabbed her 20 times with a screw driver. She had a protection from abuse order in place against him.
What is going on here? Things are not looking good for us. But here we are, tuning in every week to see the murder and the mayhem up close and personal.
-Rav
Let me say here that yes, we're tuning in. But I know I don't 'enjoy' what is happening to innocent people. My heart aches & my body screams on the inside for all of these victims. Is tuning in horrible? Maybe. But I know this is happening. I feel that by seeing what is going on that it makes it real for me. I know that something needs to be done. I think what is horrible is that I know this is happening, but I am not part of a solution. The most that I can say I've done is that the kids & I have taken coats, shoes, hats, gloves & clothes to a women & children's shelter. Does that help someone leave their abuser behind? Does that change the mind-set of that poor battered woman who knows nothing else but abuse & pain & black eyes? Does that speak to a child who feels invisible? The child that wants to save their mommy. Do a pair of 2nd hand shoes make them feel bigger than they feel on the inside? Kids always seem to think that a new pair of shoes makes them run faster & jump higher. Do you think that the kids who put on shoes worn by our kids feel that way? I bet they're feet feel a thousand times heavier. They've walked a walk some of us only see on T.V.
Rav, you are in a position to try. Your efforts may not always bear fruit. But you are in a position to try to help, try to make a difference everyday. But it is easy to become jaded. Doing what you do. I don't think though, that the 'system' is successful in always helping or reforming. On paper, maybe it's supposed to. But it's not happening. Something is wrong here.
Anyway, each episode is pretty sad, and they usually catch the killer, but not always. Tonight, a mother and her two year old daughter were shot and killed by the mom's boyfriend. He shot the mother twice and shot the daughter once. The daughter was on the front porch of the house. The killer had a long history of violent crimes, and domestic violence.
I just don't get it. I am a probation and parole officer. I supervise some offenders who are on probation for domestic violence. We have a domestic violence unit, whose officers specialize in handling these cases, but not all cases "qualify". I guess beating your wife once, isn't enough. The other day, I was in court for a violation of probation hearing. My offender had violated a no contact order issued by the court. Unfortunately, the court misplaced the report I submitted and it was not in the Judge's file. So the violation was dismissed. This time, the offender did not beat, threaten or harass his wife. But what message does this send to him? He walked through a no contact order and there was no consequence. Now, he is going to be more inclined to do it again. And next time, maybe he won't be so nice. The way these cases are handled is ridiculous.
I see people who spend more time in jail for having a little pot, than people who beat their spouses or children. And these offender's generally already have superiority complexes. They feel that they did not do anything wrong. And we let them keep thinking that. I just don't know where we are going. Just the other day in downstate Delaware, a man killed his estranged wife in front of their 9 year old son. He stabbed her 20 times with a screw driver. She had a protection from abuse order in place against him.
What is going on here? Things are not looking good for us. But here we are, tuning in every week to see the murder and the mayhem up close and personal.
-Rav
Let me say here that yes, we're tuning in. But I know I don't 'enjoy' what is happening to innocent people. My heart aches & my body screams on the inside for all of these victims. Is tuning in horrible? Maybe. But I know this is happening. I feel that by seeing what is going on that it makes it real for me. I know that something needs to be done. I think what is horrible is that I know this is happening, but I am not part of a solution. The most that I can say I've done is that the kids & I have taken coats, shoes, hats, gloves & clothes to a women & children's shelter. Does that help someone leave their abuser behind? Does that change the mind-set of that poor battered woman who knows nothing else but abuse & pain & black eyes? Does that speak to a child who feels invisible? The child that wants to save their mommy. Do a pair of 2nd hand shoes make them feel bigger than they feel on the inside? Kids always seem to think that a new pair of shoes makes them run faster & jump higher. Do you think that the kids who put on shoes worn by our kids feel that way? I bet they're feet feel a thousand times heavier. They've walked a walk some of us only see on T.V.
Rav, you are in a position to try. Your efforts may not always bear fruit. But you are in a position to try to help, try to make a difference everyday. But it is easy to become jaded. Doing what you do. I don't think though, that the 'system' is successful in always helping or reforming. On paper, maybe it's supposed to. But it's not happening. Something is wrong here.
12/8/06
My wedding Gift
Jen and Mad are participating in a marriage of the minds. What a wonderful idea. And we have been requested to give a social wedding gift. And when I say social, I mean a social injustice - not a social disease. Gross. So here is mine. I have not put as much time into this as I'd like. But this is the best I can do for now. So, if you'd like to participate or simply read about some girl on girl brain action check out what's going on. By clicking on the hyperlinks I have above.
Foster Care in America is floundering. Better said, the children of the foster care system are floundering. Read about some of it here. This problem is largely overlooked. These children are bounced around from home to home. And have a terrible time forming attachments because of constant upheaval. What these children go through is barely recorded when you do research or google searches on 'foster care'. You get statistics of how many children are in the system, how many have left the system and so on. There is no discussion of therapy of mental health/emotional issues. I beg you to click on they hyperlinks and read what is there as my words can do this issue absolutely no justice. All I can say is that the foster care system in this country desperately needs to be overhauled. There are children who are suffering silently everyday and at the age of 18 are thrown out into the wind & left to their own devices. And more often than not, repeating the same destructive cycles.
Foster Care in America is floundering. Better said, the children of the foster care system are floundering. Read about some of it here. This problem is largely overlooked. These children are bounced around from home to home. And have a terrible time forming attachments because of constant upheaval. What these children go through is barely recorded when you do research or google searches on 'foster care'. You get statistics of how many children are in the system, how many have left the system and so on. There is no discussion of therapy of mental health/emotional issues. I beg you to click on they hyperlinks and read what is there as my words can do this issue absolutely no justice. All I can say is that the foster care system in this country desperately needs to be overhauled. There are children who are suffering silently everyday and at the age of 18 are thrown out into the wind & left to their own devices. And more often than not, repeating the same destructive cycles.
11/29/06
Everything's Bigger In Texas - except our President's brain
Hey, dummy...I mean, President Bush. Try reading the definition, you idiot.
Civil war
From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia
Jump to: navigation, search
For other uses, see civil war (disambiguation). See list of civil wars for individual examples.
A civil war is a war in which parties within the same culture, society or nationality fight for political power or control of an area. Political scientists use two criteria: the warring groups must be from the same country and fighting for control of the political center, control over a separatist state or to force a major change in policy. The second criterion is that at least 1,000 people must have been killed in total, with at least 100 from each side.[1]
Some civil wars are also categorized as revolutions when major societal restructuring is a possible outcome of the conflict. An insurgency, whether successful or not, is likely to be classified as a civil war by some historians if, and only if, organized armies fight conventional battles. Other historians state the criterion for a civil war is that there must be prolonged violence between organized factions or defined regions of a country (conventionally fought or not).
Civil war
From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia
Jump to: navigation, search
For other uses, see civil war (disambiguation). See list of civil wars for individual examples.
A civil war is a war in which parties within the same culture, society or nationality fight for political power or control of an area. Political scientists use two criteria: the warring groups must be from the same country and fighting for control of the political center, control over a separatist state or to force a major change in policy. The second criterion is that at least 1,000 people must have been killed in total, with at least 100 from each side.[1]
Some civil wars are also categorized as revolutions when major societal restructuring is a possible outcome of the conflict. An insurgency, whether successful or not, is likely to be classified as a civil war by some historians if, and only if, organized armies fight conventional battles. Other historians state the criterion for a civil war is that there must be prolonged violence between organized factions or defined regions of a country (conventionally fought or not).
11/10/06
Sabotage
At the risk of sounding like a snob, I left my class last night shaking my head in disbelief. Let me first say, that my instructor is amazing. I love her & am looking through the course catalog to see if she is teaching any other classes that apply to my major. She is smart, funny, tough, insightful, forward-thinking, engaging & the list goes on and on. She is so wonderful to talk to, that when she dismisses us for break, no one wants to leave the room for fear of missing something. I digress. Last night we were discussing on early development (conception, DNA, etc.....in a two words: basic biology). It is amazing to me that I am in a room full of women in a college class that know little or nothing about basic, human biology. I mean to the point that they didn't know how long sperm live inside of the body, they didn't know what kegels are, they didn't know that you can tell, if you pay attention to your body, when they are ovulating. How can this be??? How can you be a woman in 2006 and not know some of these things? I mean, they've got to, at least, read Cosmo. I guess I'm assuming that all other women are like me & the ones I seem to travel with, and are enlightened women. And when I say enlightened women, I'm not trying to sound elitist, I'm saying women that revel in, well being women. And knowing a little bit more than which lip gloss matches with which handbag.
I remember being in 7th grade and learning about recessive and Dominant recessive genes. Many of these women didn't understand the XX & XY chromosome deal. WTF?!?! And as we were talking about XX and XY, the instructor was talking about how, in some cases with genetic 'defects', the women are the carriers, but only the male children are affected. And that is because we 'give' them one of our X's, so by nature men can be considered the weaker sex. I raised my hand and added my .02 and said how there have been studies done, for instance, on premature babies & that it has been noted that many premie deaths are boys as opposed to girls and they feel that the X factor is the reason why. The teacher ellaborated for a bit & my neighbor to my left leaned in to me and said in a whisper, "You're really smart." I smiled and turned red. I thanked her. I was thinking to myself, "Well, I'm not dumb. There are plenty smarter out there. But this class....is scary." I'm just amazed at, really, how simple we are. We have all of this technology, so many free resources to read from. We are a 'rich' nation, with many, many resources. And yet, we produce people who can barely think, barely read. What is happening here? It is disturbing. And how scary it must be for these instructors, who see this, semester in and semester out. The other thing I would like to add here is that the class is mixed from women in their late teens, early twenties...all the way up to mid to late 40's. So, I'm not using my 'base' as 20 year olds with a muffin top and year-round tan.
I remember being in 7th grade and learning about recessive and Dominant recessive genes. Many of these women didn't understand the XX & XY chromosome deal. WTF?!?! And as we were talking about XX and XY, the instructor was talking about how, in some cases with genetic 'defects', the women are the carriers, but only the male children are affected. And that is because we 'give' them one of our X's, so by nature men can be considered the weaker sex. I raised my hand and added my .02 and said how there have been studies done, for instance, on premature babies & that it has been noted that many premie deaths are boys as opposed to girls and they feel that the X factor is the reason why. The teacher ellaborated for a bit & my neighbor to my left leaned in to me and said in a whisper, "You're really smart." I smiled and turned red. I thanked her. I was thinking to myself, "Well, I'm not dumb. There are plenty smarter out there. But this class....is scary." I'm just amazed at, really, how simple we are. We have all of this technology, so many free resources to read from. We are a 'rich' nation, with many, many resources. And yet, we produce people who can barely think, barely read. What is happening here? It is disturbing. And how scary it must be for these instructors, who see this, semester in and semester out. The other thing I would like to add here is that the class is mixed from women in their late teens, early twenties...all the way up to mid to late 40's. So, I'm not using my 'base' as 20 year olds with a muffin top and year-round tan.
11/8/06
11/6/06
It's Your Right
SO VOTE, DAMMIT! Here are some reasons why:
-Take responsibility to institute a change. We desperately need it.
-Because if you don't vote & then want to bitch.....I DON'T WANT TO HEAR IT!
-As said before 'it is your right'
-You're tired of taking things lying down
-You'd be setting a good example for your kids by being civically responsible
OK, that's all I have to say about that. It is important that you do, though. So, DO IT!
-Take responsibility to institute a change. We desperately need it.
-Because if you don't vote & then want to bitch.....I DON'T WANT TO HEAR IT!
-As said before 'it is your right'
-You're tired of taking things lying down
-You'd be setting a good example for your kids by being civically responsible
OK, that's all I have to say about that. It is important that you do, though. So, DO IT!
10/20/06
Talkin' 'Bout A Revolution (Sounds Like A Whisper)
President Bush.
"Military Commissions Act"
Habeas Corpus.
DOES ANYONE CARE???
That's all I have to say. Otherwise, I may be put on a list................ & arrested.
"Military Commissions Act"
Habeas Corpus.
DOES ANYONE CARE???
That's all I have to say. Otherwise, I may be put on a list................ & arrested.
The above picture (as well as this Administration) scares the crap out of me. If I had the ways & means, we (and by we, I mean Ravioli, myself & little Ravioli's) would be OUT OF HERE.
Check out this blog and watch Keith Olberman's report. You must do this.
10/3/06
The End Of The Innocence
I need clarity. I need to know why we live in a world that has all but lost it's humanity. The shootings that took place in Lancaster Co. yesterday have me shaken. We don't live all that far from Lancaster Co. It's not 5 mins away, but it's not so far removed, either.
We pass through Lancaster when we visit with my mom's side of the family. I know where that schoolhouse is. My family is considered 'Pennsylvania Dutch' just because of our German heritage - and living in Pennsylvania. My family is by no means 'Amish'. But there are some core values that, I believe, in the older generations are similar.
I can't stand to hear of any cruelties against human or animal. I think I'm pretty normal as far as that goes. But when I think of young, totally innocent children being shot - execution style - I cannot wrap my mind around what could possibly push someone to commit something so monsterous. The innocence of that culture is completely shattered.
I just can't find it within myself to post much more about this. In some weird way, I feel too close to this.
We pass through Lancaster when we visit with my mom's side of the family. I know where that schoolhouse is. My family is considered 'Pennsylvania Dutch' just because of our German heritage - and living in Pennsylvania. My family is by no means 'Amish'. But there are some core values that, I believe, in the older generations are similar.
I can't stand to hear of any cruelties against human or animal. I think I'm pretty normal as far as that goes. But when I think of young, totally innocent children being shot - execution style - I cannot wrap my mind around what could possibly push someone to commit something so monsterous. The innocence of that culture is completely shattered.
I just can't find it within myself to post much more about this. In some weird way, I feel too close to this.
These pictures I took on a weekend trip to Lancaster in November of '00. This is NOT the schoolhouse that was involved.....
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
