Inaction - In action

Somewhere we know that without silence words lose their meaning, that without listening speaking no longer heals, that without distance closeness cannot cure.
--Henri Nouwen


There was a time in my life when the sound of silence would cause me unspeakable angst. I had to call a friend or turn on the t.v. even if I had no interest in what was on... The thought of being alone was bad enough but silence?? The chaos (unknown to me at the time) in my mind would not allow it! I've used people, places and things, so as not to feel the wounded Soul that lay just beneath the 'noise'....
I read self help books of every kind, went to therapy for years, worked ungodly hours, spoke entirely too much about nothing of value.... and still could not bare to be alone for a day. It seemed nothing was helping till I was told the value of doing "nothing." It sounds easy enough to do... but it was not easy at all. It meant sitting with myself and feeling the pain of forgotten wounds, much deeper than I could have imagined. It meant being ok with feeling uncomfortable and anxious and frightened ... and not have any clue as to why those feelings were there.... or where they came from. It meant trusting that God loved me and desired to heal me, even if I could not love myself. This did not happen all at once... I venture to say, having a Spiritual Mentor who guided me and encouraged me to "sit and be still," was a supreme grace for me.

Today I see my wounds as redemptive ... it is what makes me Christian. I no longer hide from them or fear them as making me 'unworthy'. My limitations and weaknesses are used by God and for Her purposes... if I allow it to be. Being vulnerable is not a quality that Americans value on a secular scale.... but Christians know, 'when we are weakest, God is strongest.' We are called to be counter cultural as Christ was... and STILL IS !!!

To listen in silence... gives rise to authentic speech... and to embrace my autonomy, creates true opportunity for community.

Vicissitude

"Fools Rush In", it's been said.
Slowly entering the eye of a needle by a thread...
Weaving together true colors;
Yellow, Blue and Red-
A pattern discernible by few others.

Its a bird, not a plane-
An eagle of brilliant feathers...
Gliding as an unspoken word-
In flight of such pain... that fear
She will never name.

HONESTY vs. EGO

"The search for truth is the noblest expression of the Soul.... When not actively sought, truth seldom comes to light, but falsehood does. Truth is life and falsity is spiritual death. Honesty is not a policy. It has to be a constant conscious state of mind. -- We may bring ourselves to believe almost anything by rationalization (another one of our fine arts), and so it's well to begin and end our inquiry with the question, "is it true?"
It is much simpler to appear to be honest than to be honest. We must strive to be in reality what we appear to be. Our searching self-inventories help because the man who knows himself is at least on the doorstep of honesty. Our instinct for exhibitionism, even though held in check, is a foe of honesty. When we try to enhance our our stature in the eyes of others, dishonesty is there in the shadows..."
--from The Oxford Group "Four Absolutes"

Having some synchronicity bends my attention to what messages there may be in it. Recently I have read 3 books about basically the same thing. All three books were given to me by different people who said, " I thought you'd like to read this." It used to be this kind of crap would rattle me and I'd chalk it up to "coincidence." However, today.... its very different.
The Ego that I am speaking to here, is what we in AA call the False Self. It feeds primarily on 2 lies, 1.) that I'm better than you and 2.)that I am not good enough.
Once the Ego is well fed it gives birth to some neurotic shit like greed, selfishness, manipulation, delusion. It totally distorts the Truth. The truth that we were created to love and be loved. We live in a society the tells us to, grab the brass ring, make the grade, be the funniest, be the prettiest, be the best you can be because who you are will never be enough, its what you DO that validates you.
OK, I'm not promoting sloth here (another lovely defect of mine) but I am speaking to not living the lie that tells you to look out for number one! Ego is smooth, self serving and smart. It is an energy that feeds on fear and it is an enemy of the humble. Countries and some male patriarchy's are EGO driven to the bone... and sitting here thinking of how hard it is to pursue Truth in all area's of my life, I wonder... is it ever possible for a collective society to realize this?? The whole system is inherently polluted by EGO. A system of lies, a system that would look the other way when someone is hungry, sick or unlike the "norm" to care if they are being discriminated against... This seems to me, the antithesis of Love... Jesus had a solution but we were too afraid then, as we are now, to part with our False Kingdom...

To be honest with myself... is the best defense I have against that insidious demon (EGO)that warps my thinking and robs me of serenity, now. Its no wonder we live in a cross addicted society; more drink, more food, more money, more sex, more, more, more. I don't think "hell" is not having enough,... its the FEAR that what you have or who you are, is never enough.


an AA acronym:
"Edging
God
Out"

Birds that Fly

People write for different reasons... as in anything else. Have you met a loving and kind Dr. whose vocation is to help the sick? The genuine care beams through her eyes and gentle demeanor... then there are those Dr's that cause you to wonder how this person ever got into the "helping other people business"... calculating, detached and cold. I'm just saying....

Eckhart Tolle is hopefully one of those writers, who writes because he must respond to his "calling" to share what was freely given to him... his monetary success an incidental. Who could hold that against him? Surely, if Oprah endorses your work, chances are the money will fall in... ;-)

So thinking about the few things I've learned over the years, few things have helped more than writing. The patterns, the tone, the rhythm, the truth, however small and subject to change... the change.

There is no danger of writing to get rich... chances of lightening striking are much better! :) And there is no supposing that the thoughts written here will heal or help anyone, unless Providence would have it as such. Simply put, when a thought is yearning to get out of my head, much like a caged bird... The door is opened and out flies the fowl. One solitary, unspectacular feathered creature amongst thousands of others. "Free as a bird" and the joy that comes in being just... that.

Tired of Speaking Sweetly

Love wants to reach out and manhandle us,
Break all our teacup talk of God.

If you had the courage and
Could give the Beloved His choice, some nights,
He would just drag you around the room
By your hair,
Ripping from your grip all those toys in the world
That bring you no joy.

Love sometimes gets tired of speaking sweetly
And wants to rip to shreds
All your erroneous notions of truth

That make you fight within yourself, dear one,
And with others,

Causing the world to weep
On too many fine days.

God wants to manhandle us,
Lock us inside of a tiny room with Himself
And practice His dropkick.

The Beloved sometimes wants
To do us a great favor:

Hold us upside down
And shake all the nonsense out.

But when we hear
He is in such a "playful drunken mood"
Most everyone I know
Quickly packs their bags and hightails it
Out of town.

From: 'The Gift'--HAFIZ
Translated by Daniel Ladinksy




yes. she does tire of speaking sweetly... to ears that have polished words to numb the message.

ACEDIA

In a sense I have been writing this story all my life. But I can also say that it began more than twenty years ago, when I first encountered the word acedia in The Praktikos, a book by the fourth-century Christian monk Evagrius Ponticus. Across a distance of sixteen hundred years he spoke clearly of the inner devastation caused by the demon of acedia when it "[made] it seem that the sun barely moves, if at all, and that the day is fifty hours long." Boredom tempts him "to look constantly out the windows, to walk outside the cell, to gaze carefully at the sun to determine [the lunch hour]."But Evagrius soon discovers that this seemingly innocuous activity has an alarming and ugly effect, for having stirred up a restlessness that he is unable to shake, the demon taunts him with the thought that his efforts at prayer and contemplation are futile.....

As I read this I felt a weight lift from my soul, for I had just discovered an accurate description of something that had plagued me for years but that I had never been able to name. As any reader of fairy tales can tell you, not knowing the true name of your enemy, be it a troll, a demon, or an "issue," puts you at a great disadvantage, and learning the name can help to set you free. "He's describing half my life," I thought to myself. To discover an ancient monk's account of acedia that so closely matched an experience I'd had at the age of fifteen did seem a fairy-tale moment. To find my deliverer not a knight in shining armor but a gnarled desert dweller, as stern as they come, only bolstered my conviction that God is a true comedian.

------ from ACEDIA & ME: A MARRIAGE, MONKS, AND A WRITER'S LIFE by Kathleen Norris

Indeed Norris is accurate in calling God a "true comedian". Except today I'm not in the mood for laughter. The summer has been long and hot and without resolution for me on different levels. I feel like a tiny dingy lost at sea, sometimes. Big waves tossing me high, then crashing over the bow... but then Grace returns in a blink of an eye and the words of St Sienna echo in the cavern of acedia. I am not the dingy at all... for God is in me and I in God, like the fish is in the sea and sea in the fish. (St Sienna)
So no matter where the waves take me or how far and wide I swim... God is everywhere to be found. Here. There. Within. Always.

Michaela Jagger Davila-Arredondo

She was one of five kittens that Claire and I rescued... one of my clients called one April morning to tell me there were BABY CATS on her porch beside her business and asked me (sucker me) if I would help her find homes for them. Against my better judgment I drove out there and found these 5 fur-balls screaming at the top of their tiny lungs. They were in a box with a dish of water and cottage cheese!#@% What else could a cataholic like me do? I picked up that big box of screaming kitties and drove them home.
Claire was about to read me the riot act as I pleaded on their behalf.... but then she looked in the box and said, "Oh my God, their eyes are still shut... baby, babies!!" ... And I knew our family had just grown by five, that was the year 2000. We found homes for 2 and kept 3. Jack Powers, Randy Monique and Michaela Jagger.

I left Corpus Christi in September 2006 and the following year Mika came to live with me in San Marcos. She died today quite suddenly and unexpected. If you could see me right now you would see that I look like a beat up boxer, wearing a cut-off t-shirt, swolllen eyes and a red nose, chaffed from all the tissue blowing my nose....

Mika was my companion and source of so much joy and love.....I have so many wonderful stories... books of memories shelved in my heart forever.

Rest in peace my sweet Mic... Thank you for loving me and for teaching me how to love others better. I will miss you fiercely and treasure these last few months we had together.

I love you Mamma's Mika,

Mamma Del