Being Aware of Being Blessed

Being Aware of Being Blessed

Sometimes the KNOWING that I am not alone takes me by storm. Sometimes the Universe just hits me very hard with love. Kinda like a Thump on my head. OK, wake up. Keep Getting It. Keep understanding that you are not alone. You will always have help from the Universe/the World/Angels who will always assist you.

My sister Lexi ALWAYS told me that I have "good fairies" who surround me. This was something she said zillions of times to me. And truly, as my life has played out, and I consider the little bad that has happened to me, vs. the huge amount of good that I've experienced, at 60 now, I see the pattern. Proof Positive. No denying. Truly beginning to Accept that I will always have help. I must allow things to unfold. Help will always come, but I must have patience. With patience, things will unfold as they should. Exactly as they should.

So I'm driving to San Diego at 11 AM on a Thursday morning. I'm doing 70 mph in the 3rd lane of a 6 lane stretch, I-5 south, just before the Calgrove exit and I hear: thud.....thud.....thud.....thud. I think, I've got a helicopter above me, it sounds like the blades of a helicopter; but my better half knows, …. it's my tire. Then a definite THUD and the knowing is now full and complete with that feeling in your stomach, the dread you dreaded.

There are openings enough in traffic for me to pull onto the right shoulder.
After stopping, I fumble for my Emergency Roadside Assistance card, make the call; still in shock and unable to fully comprehend what the helpful young woman is trying to say.
Is it her pronunciation, or my not wanting to make this moment real, the shock effect.
The local garage, in Santa Clarita, tells me it will be about 40 to 45 minutes before they can get here. I've just got to wait. But I want to keep busy, I need to dissipate some of my shock and anxiety; so I exit my car and begin to empty the contents of my trunk to pull out the spare.
I get the jack and pump pipe, and with the lug wrench, begin to undo the lugs.
As I'm working, I realize that I won't have the strength to lift the forty plus pounds of tire off their pins, when..... out of nowhere, to my right appears a man in his mid to late 50's, wearing worn jeans and a blue jacket. He asks me if I want help. I hadn't seen or heard him pull up.

"Do you want help?"

Of course I do. And he is safe. I know this in my gut.

"Yes. Thank you. Thank you so much."

"I am doing this in The Lord's name," Angel states.

His statement, plain, unadorned, absolute, hit me hard in my soul. I knew I was in good hands.
I knew that this was another of The Lord's wake up calls to me. Another Aha moment.

But of course. And why not? In who else's name? Isn't it ALL in Her/His name anyway? I know this. I keep forgetting this. I keep being reminded of this.

So he goes about changing the tire, and shows me that I had the jack in the wrong place, and how the jack grooves fit into the grooves of the underside of the car. And in less than 5 minutes, with him telling me how to get to Valencia Road, and telling me to get off the freeway before placing another call, that I should get to safety first.....then flash. Flash.
In a flash he drove away in his car, as quickly and effortlessly as he had appeared.

I cried for the next hour. Awestruck. Filled with Grace. Filled with Love.

In The Lord's name.

Acceptance

Acceptance

I've pondered what it means to fully Accept for the past ten months. Ever since I heard an otherworldly voice charge me with this task. I thought I had accepted the death of my dearest sister Lexi, who knew my heart, who was my heart; and the death of my dearest Margaret, who knew my soul, who was my soul. But no, not good enough; still more work to be done. And I've gotten so tired of this work. I am so ready to be done with this grief slowly shredding my will to live. The crying and wondering What is my purpose now? Not caring, not wanting to continue.
So this query has nagged at me, always in the back of my mind.
What does it mean to fully Accept?

Two days before Margaret would have turned 62, on the 29th of December 2008, I believe I've solved this Koan. And it is simple, slap on the head simple (but not for one in the thick of it!).

Acceptance means to VOW to go on living. To fully embrace what is and be willing to move on.
To not stay stuck. To fully move amongst the living. To be amongst those who love me, value me, despite the fact that their love somehow doesn't seem enough; doesn't fill the void. Their love is not the totality of an 18 year relationship, cut short by death. Not the totality of a sister's knowing me from birth, and me holding her in my arms when she died. It's not the ins and outs of day to day cherishing, adoring, bickering, fighting, doing chores, talking, touching, touching, talking. It's not the totality of the whole. The totality of intimacy.

The love from family and friends is bits and pieces, fragmented, scattered and temporary as the visits and here and there conversations with them. The not so sure they heard my true intent, the shortness of the visit because we are all rushed, the failing to finish a story. The not getting back to the point, because after all, I don't see them, don't communicate with them day to day, as I did with Margaret.

I leave the son of my deceased sister and drive home alone. The beauty of his face, his clear brown eyes, the line of his hair, etched in my mind; his nose which is my father's nose; his long, elegant fingers, also my father's. He is my nephew, our love for each other is real and deep; but this love can never truly complete me, as Margaret's love did.

It is only a fragment, a bit, a piece of the love from the many, many in my life who care about me. I know they truly care about me. A piece that I must now learn to cobble together, as a mosaic, a tapestry of my reason to continue to live. A mosaic of acceptance of what is. The weaving together of a new meaning to my life, a willingness to move into the future.
A vow to go on living.

Orion

Orion

I salute you mighty Orion, visible each clear night,
(and most nights are clear in southern California)
taking up a goodly portion of my southeastern sky.
Standing bold and strong, fearing no one, nothing.
You command without ever bearing your sword.

I cherish your existence, the fact of your being,
the fact that the light here is dim enough to see you.
You bring me great peace, comfort to my heart.
To know that the elements of the Sky persist,
regardless of our place in the world.
To know that the Moon will wax and wane each
28 days; that I can greet the tiniest sliver of the new Moon,
my favorite Moon , never failing to bring a smile to my face.

For those who have lost much, the permanence of these
Lights, these suns of other worlds, planets and moon of our world,
allow us to appreciate our place in this vastness.
May my heart return to the stardust from which it was created.

Convenience Store Clerk Fatally Shot

Convenience Store Clerk Fatally Shot
He reluctantly left a family party to return to work.

This is just two days past Christmas, 2008; a local murder.

I am crying as I read this headline. What tragedy, what pain.

Needless suffering will fall upon a family who loved this youth.

When is the thick skin required to live this life supposed to form?

Gluttony and Hubris

Pastor Rick

You sit there so smug
in your Dateline interview
with Ann Curry.
You continue to state what you believe
are morally correct notions of why
homosexual women and men should
continue to be despised.
Continue to be scapegoated by the world.

Just as "good" men of the proverbial cloth
(the cloth which hides their own sins)
continued to state what they believed
were morally correct notions of why
Jewish women and men should be despised.
Were they not vermin, non-human, capable
of the vilest deeds. Thus their suffering
millennia of murder, abuse, belittling, was
deemed acceptable, justified.

Marriage has always been between a man and a woman.
Every single religion says it's so.
It's been this way for 5,000 years; so you say.
And for 5,000 years, give or take, slavery too was
deemed acceptable, justified.

You accuse us of sins against your beloved bible.
Our acts of loving go against "nature."
Man lying with man is an abomination.
Thus we harbor the hate of the world,
condoned by you.

Well Rick, surprise; my "sin" hurts no one,
not even me.
My love for a woman is as blessed and tender,
as Holy and Profound as any human love is.
The coming together of soul to soul, in shared
compassion, and passion,
is no sin. Ever.

But you sit there, righteous, large,
still digesting your too big meal.
Evidencing Gluttony in your entire being;
your outgrown shirt, pants, suit jacket
and huge double chin under your goatee
of Hubris and Gorging.

Your sins will wreck havoc on your body,
will cause your immune system to fail,
will cause your heart to break,
will cause the fire of heartburn in your
God forsaken throat;
and will cause your penis to lay flacid
as you watch the beautiful women
you wish to penetrate.

Your sins will wreck havoc on the body of the world,
will cause hate to be justified,
will cause beatings and death from ignorant fear,
will cause the true gift of Christ and other Masters
to be lost yet again.

Pray for Obama

Pray for Obama

I'm telling everyone I can to PRAY each day for Obama;
for his health, his well being, his ability to hold up under
all of this immense pressure; and most importantly,
for his safety.
We who experienced JFK's, Martin Luther King's
and Robert Kennedy's death, the shock and raw pain
of their passing
do not want another fallen Godsent.

A Phone Call Just Won't Do

When I tell them about my pain, my grief, my not wanting to live,
They worry.
Might she take her life? Is it that bad?
They say, Call me anytime. Day or night. I'm here. I'll listen.

Well, that won't do.
It just won't do.
If you knew, you'd know what a phone call lacks.
Touch.

I don't need an ear 3,000 miles or even 2 feet away.
No, I need an ear here.
Close. Connected to a body. Right next to me.
Touchable in physical reality.

I've not had physical intimacy for near 3 years.
Not sex, which has been absent even longer;
But touch. Human, intimate touch.

Hugs help, but they're much too brief. Even long,
heartfelt bring each other in hugs. Still too brief.
Charlestown Rhode Island, summer of 2007, lying next to Lydia,
close, listening to her story of how she opened her heart to Lizi.
This was good; it helped greatly; but still lacked intimate touch.

Holding a face, a body, a hand, a foot, for long minutes, even hours.
Skin to skin. The exchange of comfort. The feel of another's skin.
The give and take of shared time and space.
Shared here and now.
Holding. Touch. Physical intimacy.
Babies die without it.
Adults too?