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...greed and practice


I wonder what the world would be like if everyone put as much effort 
into peace and a spiritual practice 
as we do into getting stuff....??
I wonder what would it be like if we took 
more of the effort we put into making our exterior lives look good 
and put it into 
making our interior lives a little better?
Wouldn't there be a trickle down?
I wonder.

...1968




It was 1968 when my boyfriend and I moved from San Diego, CA. to Houston, Texas.  The Vietnam war was at ti's deadliest, Dr. King had just been assassinated, Bobby Kennedy murdered, gone...there was a presidential election looming.   Segregationist George Wallace was a leading candidate.  There were riots and protests everywhere....for a black man, or a hippie, Houston was not the most welcoming place...but we, my boyfriend and me, were young, dumb, and sort of brave white kids on a mission to make a difference.  
There were flyers up all over the city of a generic hippie couple with the words Wanted Dead or Alive...I watched the Democratic convention in Chicago on TV and felt fear and disbelief...they were beating people who looked just like me.
....Black men were being shot at an alarming rate by the Houston Police and by the Texas Rangers...these men were accused of trying to run, but there would be powder burns on their backs.....there was a lot of fear that because of what happened to Dr. King there would be riots like the one in Watts in 1965. City leaders were trying to keep a lid on things...the city sort of vibrated with tension. And so many sirens all the time...
I got a job as a cocktail waitress a few nights a week......I only had to be 18 to work at a club. I didn't serve alcohol, everyone brought their own and I would bring them ''set ups''. 
The job was mostly easy and my days were free. I decided I wanted to help register black voters and I was able to find a connection to make it possible. I had a meeting with a minister from a black church...he interviewed me and made a point of letting me know that he couldn't promise that everything would be ok...that I would be ok...My duties would be help people fill out the forms correctly. I took the ''job'' and three mornings a week my boyfriend would drive me to Ward 4 or 6, I don't remember which now. We would arrive in our tiny car which was painted with big red, blue, yellow and pink flowers, and looked like a dozen clowns should pile out when the doors opened.....so conspicuous we were....and he'd leave me there...It was a sort of secret place, the little house...the summer too hot with emotion, too dangerous to put out a sign saying REGISTER HERE!!! .....There were no lines...people would sort slip in and out all day...in small groups or alone.... and we'd do the paper work.... tension was high...we registered a lot of first time voters of all ages in those few weeks.
That summer I also volunteered for Operation Bread Basket. I volunteered to spend time with a child from one of the Wards a few times a week.....My child, and little friend was Oshee...she was four years old and black as the night. She lived with her mother and 5 brothers and sisters in 3 rooms...she had never played in a bubble bath or eaten an egg. She'd never swam in a swimming pool either and when I let her swim at our apartment complex the other renters called management...no black kids allowed.....I was more than a little stunned....our neighbors seemed like nice people. I wondered then, and still do, what they feared from a 4 year old?
One sunny afternoon Oshee and I decided to walk to the store about 3 blocks away. I'd walked it many time, but this time it was different. In a matter of minutes white men in pickup trucks where calling me a nigger lover...whore, slut...screaming these words at us as they drove by...let me tell you, this hippie girl started shaking in her sandals.....I don't think Oshee had any clue what the words meant that were being hurled at us but she felt my fear, and she could feel their hate......and she held my hand a little tighter, and we both walked a little faster...I didn't know rather to turn around and go back, or be brave and move forward. We went forward, I had promised her a coloring book and crayons.....but I was afraid...really afraid....We never took a walk together again...sigh...I had never felt such intense hatred projected onto me......but I imagine she had.
I often wonder if my time with her was good or not, what impact it had, if any......I wonder with racism still alive and well in this country if she was able to leave that Ward and never look back...I wonder if she has a good life...I wonder if she votes.
I heard a blip on youtube from some Fox commentators the other day. They were talking, and laughing, about the 102 year old woman who had to stand in line for hours to vote in our last national election. They joked...and they wondered out loud what the big deal was?...they asked what else a 102 year old woman had to do besides wait? And I wondered when voter suppression will end in this land of the free and equal....
I wonder.....didn't we already fight this battle?


...scars







There was a time 
when I believed trees were the highest form of life on this little blue planet....
and maybe I still believe it to be true...
I share this little bit of land I live on with a 300 year old Oak...
She is majestic..
it would take 3 of me to reach my arms around her. 
 I can see her from my studio, from the house, from the hill...
She shades my Cretan Labyrinth. 
 She is what I see when I step into it. 

Her north side is covered in cool thick moss but her bark is cracked and scarred...
The cracks are deep,
 like wrinkles in an old woman's skin...
they show the life She has led, 
what she has seen summer after summer.


Sometimes I walk to her just to touch Her, 

to thank Her. 

Sometimes She leans into me, greeting me......

sometimes while leaning back 

I cry for deep reasons and press my face against Her...

sometimes into the soft, 

and sometimes into the hard.


photo of beautiful  Great Grandmother...


....connecting




I was feeling a little empty today.  
I'm a hermit and I usually enjoy being alone...
but today, I wanted to be distracted,
so I called a friend to see if she could come out and play...
she said she had friends coming up to hike along the river and I could join them...

I'm not good at small talk...not at all.  
So when I found myself alone with the friend,
of a friend, the silence wasn't the comfortable kind.  
After about 5 min. with no words passing between us since we'd already covered 
the mandatory discussion about the mess the world seems to be in...
I put down the stick I was so busily removing the bark from and looked in his eye and smiled. 

He looked in my eyes and blurted out that he was in CA. to clean out his son's apartment.  
That his son had taken his own life.  
No small talk here.  The ground shifted a little beneath me, 
I looked into this man's eyes while he talked about his loss....
his struggle to take in the fact that his beautiful young son didn't want to live in this world.  
He showed me a photo. 
His son who wanted to be a sports doctor smiled out at us. 
He expressed his deep grief that his son had not talked to him,
how maybe if he had something could have been done to stop him.  
He spoke of his guilt at not knowing that his son was in such deep pain. 
My eyes never left his.

I talked about my mothers death
and how she sometimes comes to me in dreams
and how I can often smell her perfume. 
I talked about the twins and how they were only here on this plane for a month
but had had such a big impact on all of us who knew them,
loved them.  

He wondered how he would ever fill the space his son had left..
how he didn't feel that emptiness yet,
but knew it was coming, 
and he feared it would break his heart.  

We talked about this world we live in, 
this journey, how it might all be an illusion but how the feelings are very real.  
We talked about how to disconnect, unplug from the dream.  
We talked about Oneness. 
Connection.  

And when it was time to say good bye we hugged and he whispered, 
 ''thank you for being so present...''
and I thanked him for being such a gift. 
We had been two strangers who connected.  
We had seen each other. 

I looked in his eyes a last time and remembered something 
I read long ago about how if we truly, truly, look into another's eyes
we can't help but see their soul, and experience unconditional love.

When we parted my heart felt bigger, softer,
even though the topic was death,
I felt a deep joy at being given the opportunity to listen deeply
to a fellow traveler, and have him listen deeply to me..

Soul friendship is a way of kindness, of mercy, of mutual vulnerability. A soul friendship is marked by a kind of deeply respectful intimacy and familiarity that our society has all but forgotten....unknown

tears





I think we need more mother love in this world.
I think we need more tears.
More compassion.
Forgiveness..
When did tears become a sign of weakness?
I want to see a woman become president and stand at the podium and cry...
cleansing tears..let's start new.
I know it's silliness.

I wish that more women, when gaining power, would not become more like men.
There is room for both the feminine and the masculine ........Yin and Yang.
Right now, there aren't enough tears.

~~~


“Words are tears that have been written down. 
Tears are words that need to be shed. 
Without them, joy loses all its brilliance and sadness has no end.”

Paulo Coelho


...38 questions..re-posting and still asking




Where does that fear come from that locks us in place?
What if today was a beginning and end?
What if we cut those ties that are so tight we have to remind ourselves to breathe?
What if we silenced those voices from within and without 
when they say, 
can't, won't, shouldn't, couldn't?

What if we release the pain that has become a comfort, and a safe place to hide?
What if stepped away from the judgement and disrespect of others?
What if we no longer let another's vision for us keep us from our authentic selves?
What if we stopped self-sabotaging?
What if we put our toxic waste in a box, blessed it, forgave it, tied it up 
tight with string
 and kicked it down the road? 
Finally.

What if we practiced compassion, empathy?
Integrity?
What if we weren't afraid of tears?
What if we practiced joy?

What if we made room for the inspired?
What if we turned the noise down?
What if stepped away from the path that no longer calls to us?
What if we painted the picture we want to step into?
and stepped into it barefooted?
What if we took 
our long buried dreams out from their hiding place
 and held them to the light?
What if we danced with them?
What if we embraced the gift of them?

What if we believed?
What if we relaxed?
What if today was the day we pulled up the words 
from deep within
and spoke our truth to one and all?
Or just one?


What if we cared?
What if we honored ourselves?
What if we asked for what we need?
What if we reached out to each other in support?  
What if as a tribe we chased away loneliness, and fear, 
and poverty?
What if we embraced our true and loving hearts?
What if we stopped lying?
What if we asked for forgiveness?
What if we forgave?
Not just them, but ourselves.
What if we loved unconditionally? 
Not just us, but them? 

What if we became pilgrims of peace? 

What if we really stepped into life?
What if we chose to live?
What if I did it today?

And what if we don't?

...love






While we were talking about love...
relationships...
my friend said to me...

''When I love him unconditionally I will be able to leave him...''

I didn't understand what she meant until just the other day...
at least I didn't understand the message in her words for me..

Unconditional love can only be achieved through forgiveness...
without forgiveness for someone we really can't leave them...
we take all the the pain, hurt and slights, 
and fights and fear with us...

Leaving without forgiveness keeps the ties tight...
we don't really leave..we just turn our backs.


...it's almost Christmas


Tis the season to be jolly, and offer up goodwill towards men...
but I'm not really feeling it, 
even though I'm trying.

My first response when I heard about Sandy Hook 
was to ask why anyone would be surprised?
Just take a look at the world we live in.

It took me a couple of days 
before I allowed myself to feel the horror of what happened there.  
And then I cried.  
Not just for the children of that little American town and those who loved them.  
Those poor families...the empty space in their heart.  
I slipped into crying for all the children who go to bed at night with fear in their hearts 
because of war, 
or because they live in violence, 
the sound of guns ALL the time.  
Bombs even, drones.....
children are called collateral damage in other countries.  
Or ''gang related'' deaths here in the USA.
Or they become victims of domestic violence.
Child abuse.  
Or suicide...suicide is rampant among our children.

I was listening to two teenage boys talk about Sandy Hook...
about the guns, 
they said they had friends who think war is fun, 
and can't wait to join one. 
 To my surprise they brought up the violence of video games...
they even see it.  
Do you think we might be desensitizing our children to violence?  
We pay a great deal to have 
violence brought into our homes via, games, movies, music and tv...
If violence is part of our entertainment 
why are we so stunned 
when it comes to one of our own neighborhoods in a very real way. 
There are many mentally ill out there, add guns,  fear, hate and disconnect and...
well, is it really surprising that we need to turn our schools 
into armed encampments?

Is it true?  
We reap what we sow..



When are we really going to demand a more caring society?
And I ask myself this.
When are we going to create a society that honors our children 
by truly working to come together in peace?  
When will we stop the US and THEM?
This is the season of love and magic yet there is so much fear and sorrow, why?

I don't have the answers.
We, the ''greatest'' nation, 
need to take a look at what we perpetuate here, 
and all over the world.

Look at how we are seen...are we truly the Ugly Americans?
We rain bombs down on children every day..
Turn our backs on starvation, here and ''over there''.

 It feels like a real shift in our perspective 
about what is important is desperately needed...
and
more love...
more reaching out...
more awareness...
more listening deeply to each other...
more working for change..
more action..
more hugs..

I think we need BIG changes...
we say we want to protect the children...
but we are doing a terrible, terrible, job.
Children all over the world are dying and aren't they all our children?

aren't they all our children???





December 14, 2012



CHILDREN

Charlotte Bacon, 2/22/06, female (age 6)

Daniel Barden, 9/25/05, male (age 7)

Olivia Engel, 7/18/06, female (age 6)

Josephine Gay, 12/11/05, female (age 7)

Ana M. Marquez-Greene, 04/04/06, female (age 6)

Dylan Hockley, 03/08/06, male (age 6)

Madeleine F. Hsu, 07/10/06, female (age 6)

Catherine V. Hubbard, 06/08/06, female (age 6)

Chase Kowalski, 10/31/05, male (age 7)

Jesse Lewis, 06/30/06, male (age 6)

James Mattioli, 03/22/06, male (age 6)

Grace McDonnell, 11/04/05, female (age 7)

Emilie Parker, 05/12/06, female (age 6)

Jack Pinto, 05/06/06, male (age 6)

Noah Pozner, 11/20/06, male (age 6)

Caroline Previdi, 09/07/06, female (age 6)

Jessica Rekos, 05/10/06, female (age 6)

Avielle Richman, 10/17/06, female (age 6)

Benjamin Wheeler, 9/12/06, male (age 6)

Allison N. Wyatt, 07/03/06, female (age 6)


ADULTS

Rachel Davino, 7/17/83, female (age 29)

Dawn Hochsprung, 06/28/65, female (age 47)

Anne Marie Murphy, 07/25/60, female (age 52)

Lauren Russeau, 1982, female (age 29)

Mary Sherlach, 02/11/56, female (age 56)

Victoria Soto, 11/04/85, female (age 27)


in memory too, of all those taken from us too soon through violence

...in peace



She will heal you
go to her...

If you are ready
She will take you there...

''I bring the Earth,''  She says as she arrives at the party.
She is the M.C.
She is the most High
She is the Mother of Spirit.
She is the Tao.
She is the True voice of the Man
She is the embodiment of Earth, Heaven in form...

Cheyenne Harnandez

Cheyenne...a beautiful young woman has joined us in Circle..
I hope we have wisdom to share....
we the elders..
She does.


...it's very personal


The Personal is Political: The Transformative Power of Women’s Art,
Self Portrait: Trapped in Freedom by Andrea Harris

When I was 25 years old I was raped.
I fought back
My eyes were blackened
My lip was split
My ribs cracked and broken
My hair was ripped from my scalp
I thought he was going to kill me

Afterwards I was subjected to hours at the police department as I waited for a rape test to be administered.  they didn't take me to a hospital, a doctor came with a little black case, and a police woman stood watch.....and then they took pictures of my body.

I was sent home to wait for the justice system to do it's job.

I was given a lie detector test
I went before the grand jury
I had investigators hired by the rapists asking questions about my personal life and taking pictures of me as I went about my life.

then six months after the rape and beating I was called to the District Attorneys office.
He told me that I past the lie detector test, and that the Grand Jury wanted to go forward with a trial, but he was sorry to say his office had decided that I wasn't a good victim....
no one would believe it was a legitimate rape.

.


He asked me to understand I was a hippie chick who was living in a commune with a lot of other hippies, and under the same roof as my future husband...
and before that I had lived with a former boyfriend for 3 years...

The DA's office had judged me, and I just wasn't credible as a rape victim.
The DA told me I had suffered severe enough injury that they were going to charge the rapist with gross assault....it was a consolation prize.

I don't know if you can understand how confused and ashamed I felt....
I had been raped and beaten...
the experience would change me forever....
and the man behind desk, with a statue of justice behind him 
was telling me I wasn't a good enough rape victim to attempt justice for me.

This man had forced his penis into my body.  
There was sperm.
The problem seemed to be that the rapist was a business owner, a husband,
 a father of 6 kids, a church goer, 
belonged to the right clubs and had money.
And I was not a virgin.

He got probation and went back to his life...mine was changed forever.

Seven years later, I was watching late night news and heard his name.
He had raped, and beaten,
 and shot a woman to death before turning his gun on himself..

It took me years before I allowed the anger I felt over my rape to surface...
I had to do hard work and  a lot it to let go of feeling less then..
....forgiving

but forgiveness falters when I see us moving backwards as a country.....
when I hear the kind of things that politicians and 
religious leaders are saying about rape it makes me ill and angry.
Rape, any kind of rape, is a violent act with sex as the weapon.  
It has 
nothing to do with desire and everything to do with control and hate..
and doing harm. 
 I've felt it.  I know.  I was terrified....
and so many other women have felt that terror.

South Dakota's Republican Senator Bill Napolis spoke on an evening news show about his idea of a legitimate rape victim, one who might be eligible for an abortion under legislature he voted for...

"A real-life description to me would be a rape victim, brutally raped, savaged. The girl was a virgin. She was religious. She planned on saving her virginity until she was married. She was brutalized and raped, sodomized as bad as you can possibly make it, and is impregnated. I mean, that girl could be so messed up, physically and psychologically, that carrying that child could very well threaten her life."

Anything less than that is not illegitimate rape?
what message are young men and boys getting?

That kind of talk is scary to me.  

These men saying these things are misogynists and they are writing laws....
rewriting what rape is...
are we becoming a culture where  rape is sort ok?  
is this really a rape culture?

and of course money is involved.

an interesting read....




...do you want a hug?


I happen to belong to a hugging tribe.
We hug each other all the time.
Real hugs..
leaning into them
breathing
really feeling the hug
the loving energy
the vibe.

But sometimes it happens that I want a hug and no one is around..
it happened the other night
so I sent an email out to a friend
I said I would really like a hug
It was at 1 or 2 in the morning and I really didn't expect a response until much later
But Wham!
Only 15 minutes past and here came a hug 
a warm, ethereal, hug
I love the internet
and my friends
and
Here's one for you if you if you want one


Hugs make me feel good...


A hug is the shortest distance between friends. ~Author Unknown

Hugs make things better..the good and the bad.


I really should do this more often...
self hugging

Not too long ago I was watching an interview
 with author SARK, Susan Kennedy.
she said she hugged herself every morning and we should too..
then she promptly threw her arms around herself and started kissing
 her hands and arms, shoulders, and saying
I love you, I love you

I happened to be feeling less than lovable at that moment so I thought, why not?
I threw my arms around myself...
did a bit of kissing...
I really opened my heart to myself 
I said I love you..
and to my surprise I started crying, 
to my surprise it my hug felt so comforting, and nice, and kind...
who knew?

Hugs are good
even if self administered.
I think Leo Bascaglia said we need a minimum of a dozen a day..
hug, hug
xo



.....do we do nothing?





More Politics of Rape
Posted on October 27, 2012 by Eric Francis
at Planet Wave

Dear Friend and Reader:

Earlier this week, Mitt Romney endorsed a Tea Party-backed Senate candidate named Richard Mourdock, who is running in Indiana [see video here]. Romney touted him as the potential 51st vote against government health care (even though ‘Obamacare’ is a corporate health care program).

Indiana Republican Senate candidate Richard Mourdock said Tuesday when a woman becomes pregnant during a rape, ”that’s something God intended.” See the full video here.

Mourdock was the only candidate for Senate endorsed by Romney in this election cycle, so he stands out a bit. The very next day at a debate against his opponent, Mourdock said that he was against a woman’s right to have an abortion, even in the case of rape — because the pregnancy was a “gift from God.”

“I struggled with it myself for a long time, but I came to realize that life is that gift from God. And, I think, even when life begins in that horrible situation of rape, that it is something that God intended to happen,” Mourdock said [see video here]. He struggled with it? Are we to assume he got pregnant?

Mourdock became the second GOP Senate candidate to wax philosophical about rape and pregnancy in recent months. Rep. Todd Akin, running for U.S. Senate from Missouri, said during a television interview in August that women’s bodies have ways of preventing pregnancy in cases of what he called “legitimate rape.”

“If it’s a legitimate rape, the female body has ways to try to shut that whole thing down. But let’s assume that maybe that didn’t work or something: I think there should be some punishment, but the punishment ought to be of the rapist, and not attacking the child,” he said. I am sitting here wondering by what logic, or precedent, a fetus has more rights than a sovereign citizen — unless one does not count women as such.

As if it’s not enough that abortion rights, which are long-settled case law, are somehow a central issue in this campaign (Romney has promised to sign the so-called Personhood Amendment if it lands on his desk) and as if it’s not enough that even the right to birth control is coming into question (Romney has promised to do his part to have the Supreme Court’s Griswold v. Connecticut decision repealed), now we have to hear about rape on a regular basis. Rape is about an attacker taking total control over the victim, in truth, one step shy of murder. Until recently, it was subject to the death penalty in many American states. Now it’s being associated with a “gift from God.”

The official platform of the Republican party states its opposition to abortion under all circumstances, including in cases of rape and incest. The official platform! I have been reading comments like “This is how Jim Crow guys in the south were during the Sixties — very loud,” implying that this kind of misogyny is a kind of death rattle for their point of view. I am not buying that argument, at all. I am not willing to take that chance. There are too many forces pushing in the same direction, and to me this seems more neo than retro.

However you may feel about voluntary medical abortion, making it into a crime presents a problem: abortions and miscarriages happen spontaneously, and would be subject to criminal investigation and prosecution as potential murders. The central question here is, should women have autonomous dominion over their bodies, or should every pregnancy be government property, subject to investigation? In essence, this is a discussion about making every uterus a potential crime scene.

It’s easy to cast this as opposition to something distasteful, painful and often considered a necessary evil. It’s easy to cast it as a moral issue, and blame God. There really is no secular, scientific or medical argument in opposition to a woman’s right to choose the destiny of a pregnancy, especially early in the term — all of the arguments are religious, or emotional.

American political discourse has degraded to the point where it’s now considered legitimate to claim, in public, that women have no rights whatsoever over their bodies, or their reproductive destiny. If you have studied any feminism at all, you know that for women, reproductive rights are the same thing as human rights. And now we are even hearing politicians advocate for the parental rights of rapists. I really wonder why there is not a bigger outcry. Is it because this seems too weird to be true? Or is it about a conscious giveback of both rights and their corresponding responsibilities?

For the past three decades, many American children have been subjected to abstinence-only indoctrination in public schools, which is basically a taxpayer supported campaign of ignorance and shame. This is the perfect state of mind for such a vicious, actually insane conversation to flourish. And, one would think, anyone who wanted to see fewer abortions would be in favor of family planning and conscious pregnancy prevention. But that’s not the way things are going — which puts women in an extremely dangerous double bind.




The slide or even downward spiral of how women are treated, and how women assert themselves in society, is a complex scenario and I think that each of us would be wise to take the inquiry inward, and into our relationships as well.

We have to look at this in the context of the conscious assault on the rights of women, as well as the voluntary abdication of those rights; the dumbing down of the population via abstinence indoctrination; the proliferation of sexual imagery; and the rise of homophobia, which also influences relationships between the sexes as well as intrapersonal relating. That is to say, all of this influences our most intimate situations, and how we feel about ourselves.




The Handmaid's Tale by Margaret Atwood....''a novel that brilliantly illuminates some of the darker interconnections between politics and sex....Just as the world of Orwell's 1984 gripped our imaginations, so will the world of Atwood's handmaid!''  The Washington Post's Book World


Women’s issues are often presented as ‘special interests’, which is part of the scam. The more pressing issues of our day seem to be the planet heating up, the power of the arms industry, total corruption, the abuse of technology and corporations thinking they have the rights of humans, enabled by the courts. Yet these all may be byproducts of the condition of human rights, and deep at the core, this is about the treatment of women, by both men and other women. What I am saying is the first human rights issue is how we treat one another — and this seems to involve gender more often than not.

Sex and gender issues are not boutique items. I believe they are the center of the cyclone. If the prevailing, real-life story of the human race is one sex oppressing the other, that’s going to reflect in every other way, influencing everything that happens on the planet — including how we treat the Earth.

The central political question of our day, in my view is: To what extent have women and men learned to recognize one another as people? To what extent have we learned to recognizeourselves as people? The political is indeed as personal as it gets.

Lovingly,

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