Poetry

On Wee Wings They Fly

20170517_091437I wanted to prelude this little poem with some of my nature photography, the tree symbolizing the heights that we each must attain to, the little bird nest in a mailbox – all crammed full of things the momma bird felt she needed to be in her home – reminded me of ME, because my house is overflowing with too much paperwork, inventory and is in a general state of disarray.  But , like the momma bird in this poem, I have faith in what will come , and am grateful for what is done. 20150705_142134 (1)

Does she weep as her babes begin to fly?

No, she cheeps her praise &
Encourages them to strive.

The course unknown &
The flight unclear.
The little wings that 
Are so dear....

Must gather strength
Upon their own,
And reap the joys
That they have sown.

The nest so quiet now
When they have flown.
Does she weep alone?

No, she joins a chorus
Of a song she knows, 
Always remembering 
As long as the wind blows.
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Images and content are copyrighted September 13, 2017 by Elizabeth Loyd, author and photographer.
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The Girl with the Gold Trimmed Robe

Me Kathy Debbie as kids

There in the middle is the wee version of me.  So many years ago in the late 1960’s, sandwiched between my two sisters, whom I hope do not mind that I included their photo for all the world to see.  I love that time was captured in our smiles , love our handmade dresses, and love that I can see my prickly lace skirt that I remember wearing and it being horribly itchy.  It’s probably why I am holding onto it so it does not touch my legs.  Perhaps I was just trying to show a little leg.

As you can see on a couple of the dresses, there has been trim carefully sewn onto the sleeves and edges .  Today I wanted to talk about “trimmings” or what it signified to me in a very vivid dream that I had many years ago.  It was one of those dreams, that I awoke crying and distraught, because it was so vivid and so real, that as I awoke I still believed it had truly happened.  Before you read further, I want to warn you that this dream is a very intense , archetypal dream, that shook me to the depths of my very soul and spirit.  As I calmed down afterwards, I wrote it down.  I won’t reveal until the end, what I believe it was telling me in it’s symbolism.  I will admit that this dream caused a bout of sadness and depression that lasted several months.  I am thankful that I received the message it contained, and that I was able to learn from those moments of grief over this dream girl , who wore a bright multi colored robe, with trim of gold lace.

In this dream, for some reason I was performing the job as a pre-op nurse.  I was getting my patients ready for outpatient surgeries.  I do not normally work in this capacity as a nurse, but work with outpatient nurses frequently in the course of my waking career.  I can remember that I had an assignment of patients that were in different rooms, not all in a row, and that I had to pass by a room in which the most beautiful dark haired girl was inside this room. She wore a beautiful robe or gown that was brightly colored, almost patchwork like in appearance, and that the sleeves and the edging had a gold trim edge sewn in place.

She was a bubbly little girl, perhaps about 4 or 5 years old.  Every time I passed her room, she would talk to me, ask me to be her nurse, ask me questions, and basically she became my patient by default.  She only wanted me to take care of her.  I let her nurse know that I would do all of the skills involved, like starting her I.V. etc, but that I still had my own assignment of patients to care for so I would not technically , on paper, be her nurse.  In other words , her real nurse would still have to do all the documentation and such.  I found out that this little girl was a diabetic, and her blood sugars were not stable, and they had to be checked frequently.  In my dream, I started her IV and checked a blood glucose level to make sure she was O.K. at that moment.  I relayed the information to her “real” nurse, in case she did not know about the diabetes.

I continued caring for my other patients, and as the little girl was waiting for her outpatient surgery procedure, she would come out in the hallway and twirl around in her pretty little gown.  Everyone was telling her what a beautiful gown it was, and how unusual in its colors and its wonderful gold trimming.  She would beam a beautiful smile, and chatter away to anyone that would speak to her.  She had captured my heart, along with many of the others that were in my dream.

I happened to see her as she was being wheeled on the stretcher to go to her surgery.  I stopped the person that was pushing the stretcher, and stated to this person – “WHO is the nurse for this little girl?  WHO is the surgeon that is responsible for her care?  I need to know that SOMEONE is watching over her closely.  She is a diabetic and needs her sugars checked frequently. I NEED to KNOW WHO IS TAKING CARE OF HER. Make sure you tell her nurse and doctor what I am telling you, she needs to be watched over carefully. ” I remember in the dream, this part was very vivid.  I actually ran after the stretcher, and yanked on the side rails in a halting motion, in order to stop the stretcher and talk to this person in order to relay what I felt was very important information.

I went back to caring for my own patients, and got wrapped up and busy for the next hour or so.  Suddenly, I heard this horrendous wailing… Gut wrenching, soul ripping wailing.  As I write this, I am tearing up in remembrance of this sound in my dream. I searched for where the sound was coming from, and to my dismay it was coming from the little girls room, coming from the mother of this child.  I knew immediately that the little girl had died in surgery.

My soul and spirit wailed and cried along with this mother and father, both in my dream and many times later in my awakened state.  I have tears falling now .  I can not convey in words, the depths of the sorrow in this dream. Once some time had passed, the mother stopped crying and gave me a gift.  She took the little girls gown, and removed some of the gold trim from it, so I could have something to always remember this little girl.

Of course , I awoke from the dream shortly after this, distraught and wondering what the dream meant. I have a daughter with a rare disease, and immediately my mind began to worry that the dream was a symbol of her, and that something bad might happen to her.  I confided my dream to my older daughter, crying uncontrollably.  I was frantic with worry. I wondered what was the significance of the gold trimming on the robe that had been gifted to me. I wondered, and worried, wondered and worried.

It was a little later, perhaps a few days later, after I relayed the dream to a very close friend of mine, who “gets” me and understands me, that I had my revelation. He patiently listened to me crying and my description of the dream, and as I paused to catch my breath, he simply said this….”Beth, I think you know that the little girl in the dream was YOU….”

WOW…. a man hundreds of miles away, interpreted my dream in 2 seconds flat.  Nailed it on the head.  The little girl in my dream was ME…. The truth hit me like a full force wave of enlightenment.  The dream was capturing the essence of my childhood innocence, the little girl that just wanted to be loved , to be loved for her diverse “colors” and especially for her gold trimmings that held all the diversity together in the robe that covered her.  The significance of my asking “WHO IS CARING FOR THIS CHILD?” demanding that someone take responsibility for her care, and watch over her closely.  The sadness involved in her “death”, but that her memory was forever with me in the gold trimming.

This dream occurred many years ago, and over those years the gift of its message was both bitter and sweet.  I feel that it was acknowledging some things to come, and some things that needed to occur in my spiritual growth AND my normal every day waking life.  I had a tendency to be too naive, to only believe often to my own detriment, that people’s intentions were always good.  I was being instructed, rather forcefully, that my inner child had died, or needed to die, in order for me to be able to handle the things in my future that would require me to abandon child like views of the world.

Not everyone is nice, not everyone has your best interests in their hearts, watch your own back and be responsible for yourself , others may turn their heads and not watch over you closely in your times of need, monitor your own needs and desires, take responsibility for yourself…. all those messages came through loud and clear.  But the message that resounded the most was this…. I discovered what the gold trimming symbolized.

I was given the gold trimming to forever remember the little girl, ME, in order to never lose sight of that sweet innocent spirit that dwells inside me, that wants to believe the best in everyone and wants peace, love and joy to pervade in this world.  The one that likes to dance and twirl around and have people notice my uniqueness, the one that secretly wishes for complete and utter love and understanding of the diversities inside me, and above all to never give up hope that someone , someday will watch over me as vigilantly and lovingly as my heart desires. I was tasked to never totally abandon having child like qualities in my spirit, but that I needed to abandon her for awhile and do some grown up , adult like thinking, in order to advance spiritually and be prepared for what would be coming down the road.

To be jolted into “adulthood” in my early 40’s, was quite a shock.  It was necessary, and I am thankful and grateful for the message it gave me from deep in my subconscious, and that I have been able to grow and learn from it over the years, and will continue to learn from it the rest of my time here on Earth.

Blessings ,

WhiteLion

AKA Beth

 

 

 

 

 

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Thoughts on Water

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Today I wanted to talk a little bit about water.  It is something that we as humans do not typically think about, but lately I have been drawn to learning a bit more about this substance .  I think my spiritual journey of late has been the impetus of why water has become a focus of my attention.  Once something I took for granted, today that is not true.  I realize this precious substance is probably WAY more than what we, as humans fully realize.  Let me explain a little of how my mind meanders and thinks about water.

I came across some research done on water.  In this study, containers of water were subjected to words said to it, some were “nice” words like “I love you water” , or gratitude words like “Thank you water”.  Some were “Not Nice” words like ” I hate you”, “you are worthless”, etc… you get my point.  So after these bottles of water had been subjected to different levels or vibrations of intent based on ranges of human emotion, they froze that water and afterwards looked at the water molecules under a microscope to see what the water formations looked like.

Lo and behold, the water subjected to bad thoughts or intentions, it had froze into misshapen lumps of ice and the molecules had no form.  Reminded me of “the blob”.

The water that had been appreciated, loved and thanked – it froze into the most beautiful ice crystal formations.  The higher the amount of love it received, the more intricate and geometric the ice crystal pattern took shape.

After reading this study, I began to talk to my water, to tell it “thank you and I Love you!” whenever opportunity allows me to do so….. See – this is NOT the kind of thing you may want to do in public as someone will think you are crazy.   It is my way of praying before a meal , so to speak, and making sure the water that I ingest is happy, loved, and full of positive vibrational molecules.  I especially thank it for making my coffee taste so great!

Interesting tidbit:

Water is the only substance that can exist in three forms.  Liquid, gaseous, and a solid state. My mind of course wonders if in theology this fact of the nature of water has been included in past teachings.  Holy water has been studied in the same way and it’s crystal formations are also intricate, highly geometric and beautifully formed.  I feel that I am being drawn to learning these types of topics, in order to be more aware of basic things that have been readily available all our lives, and yet as a society we do not make proper penance nor revere these things as we should.  In the Bible it says that we were given domain on Earth in order to be a steward to it, not to dominate it and destroy it.  I am sure the Native Americans included reverence for water and other natural resources in their daily rituals.  I have started including it in mine as well.

It is this connectedness I feel with land, water and nature that is pointing me in this direction of a more Native American view in regards to my belief system.  I have often pondered how one religion can say they are “right”, and another religion be just as good, but yet they will claim their way is the only way, the right way, etc.  Many years ago, I formed an opinion on this very matter.  I decided that “God” or the “Great Spirit”, realized that humans had so much variety and spice, that he/she let each society or group form their own way of reverencing their version of God.  It made sense to me then and it makes sense to me now.

The Great Spirit, or God that I follow, may be different than the one you follow. I bet the basic tenets of our beliefs are the same.  Treat your neighbor as you would yourself.  Well, water has become my neighbor.  I no longer take it for granted.  It is our life blood, it is what connects us all and holds us together. Without it, there is no life.  The spiritual implications if you think about this long enough will make you go “Hmmm”.

I could move onto my thoughts on the Air or Atmosphere in spiritual terms, but will instead save that for another post.  I say my daily affirmations and prayers of thankfulness and gratefulness , and yes I talk to my water and give it proper kudos for a job well done.

Protect our water sources, be thankful and grateful for all things, even what you consider the mundane or the usual.  It is in fact these very things – the Earth, the sky and water that sustain us and have graciously allowed us to reside here.  It is only logical to give thanks for the very things that keep us living, breathing and continuing our journey in this world.  As physics progresses it is proving more and more that intelligent design exists. The gap between science and religion is narrowing and for this I am grateful.

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Blessings to all,

ME

copyright 25-NOV-2017

Spirituality

Fiery Spirit

20170420_000330.jpgToday I wanted to discuss having spirit.  Some of us have tranquil spirits, some fiery, or a combination of the two.  I would say I have a combination of the two.  I know that as a child I was deemed difficult at times due to having a horrible temper and was prone to tantrums.  I remember vividly being sent to my room and kicking the bedroom walls in my protest and being quite mouthy.  I think it was just my younger self, being the youngest, trying to assert my “power” and get attention.  It is just natural for us humans to want attention, and especially as a child you do not know the difference between good attention and bad attention.

Fortunately, somewhere along the line, I learned to curb my innate fiery spirit, and channeled that spirit and desire into other activities that did not involve kicking bedroom walls.  I threw myself into reading, gaining knowledge through books.  I was a book worm from the moment I learned to read.  I became an introvert of sorts and could spend hours reading.  On the opposite side of that, I could spend hours outside riding my bike, exploring nature, climbing trees, running around the neighborhood and playing with all the neighborhood kids.

It is only recently, as I approached the half century mark, that I have been able to look inward and think back on my past, and see how some of my thoughts and behavior patterns shaped my outward personality and what I allowed others to “see” about myself.  I am a Scorpio and all the books you read about this sign always say they rarely show their true selves.  Only to a trusted few has my inner flame been shared.  I have made mental notes of all those that have perceived me wrongly over the years, and frankly felt it was their loss – not mine, in not taking the time to truly get to know me.  I am your best warrior in times of struggle, and your best bet in being a soldier for you in your time of need if you let me “in” long enough to be your champion, especially if you are the under dog. I fight the good fight.  I champion the cause for truth, justice, faith, hope and love. It is what made me go into a healing profession and being an advocate for those that needed me.

In reflection, I realized that innately I understood that the majority of others, even if I had revealed my true spirit to them, they would not have understood it and thus I kept this part of me under wraps in various times of my life.  I honestly think that me squelching my inner flames were more of a protection mode so that others would not get hurt by my ability to sting with words or actions if I did not keep it controlled.   I never want to intentionally hurt anyone.  I have more of a healing type spirit,  I want to bring calm from the chaos, peace instead of war.

BUT…. the reality is that once cornered – or faced with injustice – or faced with my reputation being tarnished – or truths being altered – the fiery spirit that dwells inside me WILL come out in full force and I will protect and defend myself and loved ones especially if it involves ethics , moral judgement and truths.  I can honestly say that I have intentionally not acknowledged or confronted others when I knew their perceptions of me were false, or that false words were being spoken of me, and most often tried my best to “prove myself” instead.  I spent too many years trying to gain love and respect by thinking I had to prove myself in various ways.  I now feel like you can “take me or leave me” exactly the way I am.  I think, therefore, I am.

The person I am today, is perhaps wiser in the ways of the world.  Once inclined to only think that the world has the best intentions based in truth, justice, faith, hope and love – I no longer immediately “assume” that people’s intentions are “good”.  I have developed a more healthy balance of questioning intentions, evaluating what words have been said, what actions have been done and then forming a more accurate opinion on the matter.

That inner fiery spirit has been showing itself in the form of self protection, standing up for myself and others, being a seeker of truth and justice, and channeling that heat into positive energy.  I guess today, I wanted to let others know that perhaps are a little bit like me ( Who are a little bit country AND a little bit Rock and Roll ) – that it is OK to let your inner fiery spirit to show itself once in awhile, it does not have to be a full roaring fire as embers put off more heat and last longer than the tall, flickering flames.  Save your flames for when it is time to fight for what is right, but keep your embers ever glowing. “Stay gold, Ponyboy, stay gold.”

In thankfulness and gratitude I sign off today and best wishes to all.

Blessings,

ME

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Thankfulness

I love all the seasons of the year, but Autumn and Spring are my favorites in that order.  The Fall season has such beautiful colors of yellows, oranges, reds and purples that I am drawn too.  This late summer wild sunflower is an example of the lovely yellows that I adore.  I spoke to my son the other day about how nature is so precise, it’s workings can not be random – in my opinion.  This one flower , within in , contains mathematical genius and design.  The symmetry and balance, the colors, my what a wonderful world we live in!

Today I wanted to just make a brief note of my thankfulness and gratefulness of ALL that has occurred in my life, because without each and every one of my past experiences, I would not be where I am today.  It is hard to look at difficult times as a time of growth, or “testing” and learning.  I beseech everyone that reads this, to take heart and never give up HOPE…  it is my mantra.

Never give up…Dig down deep…Never let your guard down….Stay vigilant in your beliefs and your core ethics and values.  Never let anyone try and mold you into something you are not.  You do not have to follow the same beating drum as your friend, or neighbor.  Make your own music, follow you own drum, as you march into your destiny and future with hope, thankfulness and gratitude – the blessings will come.  Affirm to yourself daily that “You IS Special”..

WhiteLion67

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Uncategorized · Weekly Photo Essay/Thoughts

Wait for it….

So, my son brings home this kitten one day.  He says he found it right outside on our porch….

I say “Well, isn’t that funny because I have been outside on the porch all day and he hasn’t been there.”

The story changes…. “Well…. REALLY it was down on Cooper’s Crossing by the side of the road.”….Uh, yeah, I bet it was , I think to myself.

I reply ” You can’t fool the best there ever was at bringing stray animals back home… If you want to stick to that story , go ahead, but I know better.”  We then drive to the HUGE pet store in town, and I proceed to buy him toys, one that purrs when a button is pushed and the fancy dried and powdered kitten milk that of course has to have healthy levels of colostrum.  Which translates to WAY more than a box of powdered cow milk , but hey, he was a widdle, biddy baby kitty…. so sweet him was.

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I wore this fuzzy soft robe every night so he could snuggle in the depths of it, and he could pretend he was being fed by his momma kitty, since, you know, he was tragically thrown on the side of the road and all.  (Yes, I even bottle fed him for a few days.)

My best friend met him shortly after his arrival, and she said “He don’t look like no cat thrown on the side of the road. Looks pretty healthy to me, and he SURE DON’T look like he needs to be bottle fed.”

Hhmmmfff to you too… I was just trying to make his transition easier, plus it was fun. Kinda.

So let me give some back story here, as this was in May of this year and it was the month of my son’s high school graduation.  His girlfriend LIVES on the street around the corner called Cooper’s Crossing….. hmmmm.

Fast forward to graduation night, my two older daughters arrive from Houston, meet and greet the new furry addition, and with one bathroom and three women trying to get dressed for graduation, widdle biddy baby Zuko was soon forgotten.

UNTIL – Graduation was over, everyone is milling around , talking, taking pictures, etc. and my two daughters rush up to me laughing and said “GUESS WHAT?”

I say “What?”

“Noah’s girlfriends little sister just ran up to him and said ‘NOAH!!!!! We have another kitty for you to tame in our barn!” all excited and jumping up and down and stuff. ((I was not there so I may be embellishing.)

So the truth was out, my son is a cat whisperer.  He tamed a ferril kitten , who has now captured every animal in this house’s love and affection, or fierce abhorrence.  Depends on which spirit is on his shoulder, the angel one – or the devil one.

So in the spirit of the theme of waiting captured in photos, I wanted to share this series of photos I took of Zuko one day as I was trying to work on my online businesses, and he decided he needed to crawl up in my arms and take a nap…my arm all holding him in weird angles and stuff….giving me arm cramps…and I keep holding him, as still as I can while typing one handed…and a little voice in my head said “Isn’t he the most precious baby kitty witty there ever WAS?”, and I open my phone and try to figure out how to take photos without disturbing his nap…. yeah, cuz he needs his baby sleep.

 

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As I struggle to keep my left arm at this crooked angle , so his comfy relaxed body doesn’t get disturbed, I have a fleeting thought and wonder when the OTHER kitty will appear.

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Not, this kitty or that kitty…

 

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Nor this kitty as well….

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BUT THIS KITTY!!!!!!

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What’s That Finger Taste Like?

And when I saw this face, I knew all innocence was gone.  That dichotomy of personalities is what makes me love him even more.  He reminds me of myself, one minute lounging around trying to cop a nap, and then someone sticks a finger by my mouth and so I bite it.  We really are quite similar. Some may say this photo is just capturing a sweet kitty in the middle of a yawn… I say FOOLISH!!!!  DO NOT TRUST HIM WHEN HE LOOKS LIKE THIS! It is for your own safety ! I must disclose this and warn you!20170617_111409

Doesn’t he look kinda like Bill the Cat and his facial expression from the old Bloom County comic strips? Aaaaccccckkkkk I think was all he could say.  I have a feeling there will be more blog posts with pets in starring roles.

WhiteLion67

Content and photos are copyrighted by Elizabeth Loyd Sept. 14, 2017

Thank you for the opportunity to use a topic to base a blog post on, I have had the most fun in doing this! The topic is Waiting.

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/photo-challenges/waiting-2017/

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Past Shaping Our Present

Much like the cactus pictured below, our past can be littered with thorns, a few beautiful flowers or moments of complete bliss,  some stray dying grasses that have been blown into our path, obscuring the wonderful green and succulent richness we contain inside of us, and a dichotomy of light and darkness .

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That said, I am one that tries to see beauty in the above photo as the cactus and the Indian paintbrushes, though so different from each other are living in harmony together. It almost seems as it the one Indian Paintbrush is leaning on the cactus for strength, despite it’s potentially getting hurt by a thorn.

So to is it with our own lives, that past experiences shape our psyche into what we are today, and we can choose to relive the hurtful thorny episodes, and to dwell upon them, or we can choose to lean on those thorns and know they were a means to shape us, to teach us and make us stronger.  Let us not dwell on the past, as that day is gone, but remember the lessons learned and be thankful and grateful today for the place we reside in our hearts and spirit because of the past.

I will give an example of how as a child , I equivocated being loved by the amount of attention that was paid to me, by family, friends, boyfriends, etc.  I have learned this lesson of the past, only by having children of my own, and realizing how easy the trap of surviving day-to-day can be for a mother .  My own parents struggled with many problems in caring for and raising three children.  I see that now, I understand that now.  I have no harbored feelings anymore about feeling unloved, as I once did in my youth.

Was I given parents too occupied by the stresses of their everyday lives in providing for their children, sheltering us from knowing things we did not need to know as a child, etc. that in effect it caused me to emerge as a thoughtful, introverted creature?  Was I given so much freedom to explore, to run the streets of my own accord , with minimal supervision, no smothering presence that tried to live their life through me, or that tried to manage my every waking minute, that I was allowed to blossom into my own independent self, able to think and make decisions on my own and develop an extraordinary sense of independence?

I saw how other parents were with their children, examples of such were many of my childhood best friends.  I witnessed unrelenting controlling parents, that monitored their children’s every waking hour, dictated how each dish should be placed in a cupboard, how much of a food portion or a snack you could eat each day (regardless of whether they were rich or poor), what classes they should take in school, etc.  My child and adolescent self thought that since my parents were not this way, that I was UNLOVED.  I mistook LOVE by parents to mean that they overly engaged in my activities.  How often our perceptions of our childhood are misperceptions !  How many years did it take for this knowledge of perceptions to finally go off in my head and I got my “AHA” moment?

As I touched on in the first blog post, I am thankful and grateful for all experiences in my life, for it these experiences that have shaped me into the person I am today.  In my quest for “Love” as I defined it back then, I made it a point to excel in whatever endeavor I took part in.  I was involved in Little League softball and played All Stars for many years, ran track (I was a fast runner!), Band, Edwards Literary Society, National Honor Society, Bowling team, Health Occupations Students of America, worked part-time in a work-study program at a local horse farm, took honors / advanced classes in English and History,and fancied myself a gymnast (even if it was only in my front yard)….all in attempts at proving to someone, anyone, that I was in fact lovable, “good enough”, and worthy of being noticed.

Granted, I had been a horrible tempered child, prone to tantrums and such. (I guess the Scorpio in me?) .. I was reminded over and over throughout the years of my “badness” and horrible temper.  I was the youngest of all the cousins, therefore often the brunt of jokes or teasing as most younger kids are.  To this day, I have a strong aversion to any bullying type behavior probably due in part to being a victim of this in my youth.  But let me speak again, that I hold no anger or bitterness about my past experiences, because those experiences helped shape me into what I feel I am today – a wonderfully kind and giving spirit,  that seeks justice and truth, that fights for the underdog, that has high aspirations and dreams and an ideology of how the world can be a much, much, much, more kinder place.

Kind of on the same vein of past remembrances, I have been dismayed at the amount of my past that I do not remember at all.  Our senses, however, can sometimes pull a memory from us that we once “forgot”, our senses… so keen, are linked so strongly to our memories that a smell, a certain touch, a sound, etc. can bring back a flood of memories.  How our minds try to protect us by burying deep those images that haunt us.  Of loves past that did not end the way we imagined, of dreams spoken and then shattered by careless words or actions of someone we love , of deeds we have done ourselves, seemingly overtaken by a demon possessed of our bodies for brief moments in time.  (Did I REALLY do those things? To my dismay – I did.)

The more I age, the more I see how the darkness in the world operates in order to try to squelch those with a bright inner light.  I have over the years accumulated hundreds of books on theology, studied various religions and their histories.  I have continually searched for the light of goodness in what we call God, and tried to walk the path of “doing the right thing”,  and following the basic tenets of any religion that is based on love, sharing, and being helpful to others when we can.

I found that the more I sought to understand things, the more fierce my battle with evilness in this world became, in all various forms of “attacks”.  Evil will try to envelope the soul and spirit in order to keep its bright light from shining in this world.  This I know is true for me. I just recently read that the soul and spirit are two separate things. I once believed that they were synonymous.  The Spirit is what hungers , that strives for perfection, strives to understand to what end we all belong.  So what is the Souls purpose? To house our spirit and give it a home in our earthly body on this plane of existence.

I know that I can never surrender my Spirit, to anything but the Truth as it has been shown to me.  I also understand that others have different truths than my own.  I respect and am not frightened by those that think different from myself.  I am at ease, like the cactus and Indian paintbrush pictured above, I can lean on my thorny brother, who looks different from me, is a little prickly, but I know contains inside of him sweetness and sustenance.  Let us all take a moment in these times, to reflect on how we all depend on one another through various channels, and if we were all the same how horribly boring life would be.

Caio,

WhiteLion67

 

 

 

Uncategorized

How Many Moments?

20160402_142149How many moments of my waking hours have I fancied myself to be a writer someday? Too numerous to count.  My notes of my thoughts filling my smart phones over the years, first my Iphone, and now my Note 3, thinking to myself – “How clever that thought is.”  Once scribed into the various note sections of the phone, it sits, unread by the thousands of imagined readers that I hope to someday reach , that somehow – just might relate to what I am feeling and writing.

Hours of reading to cure my insatiable curiosity of this world, regarding both the seen and the unseen, enigmatic or ironic questions that I have in my mind, fill little notebooks throughout my house, some written years ago, some recently until the writer’s impetus and urge has moved me to this venue to share with the world my views, ideas, thoughts, and dreams.

Questions such as :  Why are we here? , Who has or had the right answers?  The ancient Jews? The Egyptians? The ancient Greeks or Romans?  Perhaps it was the Pagans?  The more I read, the more they all sound the same .  I see how the Christian faith, which is relatively new to this Earth, tells of many of the same stories and myths and guides of living that were laid down by many prior faiths and religions before it arrived here on Earth.  It does not lessen it in any way, it only draws upon the depth and wisdom of the prior ages that it incorporated into its faith.20170403_184955 (2)

I often wonder, how is it that no one else seems to sense what I sense?  See what I see?  Are there others out there like ME?  Is this the audience I chose to speak to in this blog?  I think not, as I am an open book to all learning experiences and opinions of others.  If I did only cater my thoughts to those that think as I do, how few that would be, I think, and the voice that is within us all, that drags us down into thinking we are nothing in this world, reminding me that I have nothing to say that is worth hearing or read by others, that I will be ignored, made me succumb too many times to those thoughts and I remained silent.  But that was the past.

I have recently felt the pull of another voice, the one that promises fulfillment and promise , the one that fills me with faith, hope and love, and my pen goes to work.  I fancy my words will someday be available for all the world to see and enjoy.  That day is today.  In my mind’s eye, I wonder to myself, should I write a tale? One of those based on a forgotten myth, a character of tragedy,  or one full of insights into our human destinies and desires?

How strange am I?  I know the outward appearance of myself and the words I speak out loud  – touch on what lies beneath.  These sublities are picked up by others, I am deemed quirky, even by some as having a hippie mentality, serene and non confrontational in nature… If they only knew!!!

The lioness that lives within, the emotions held in sway beneath the ocean that dwells inside of me.  The hurts that I have endured at the insensitivies of others words and actions throughout my life, I have come to forgive and be thankful for these episodes as they were learning lessons and helped me to grow into who I am as a spiritual person.  It was not always so.  The callousness of the world around me, the hateful words that have been spoken to me or about me in the past, I am ashamed to admit that I succumbed too many times to their clutches, and sought the status quo life and tried to be like the others who were around me , and tried to conform to what they wished me to be.

At times my memory fades from me , like a dream forgotten, then a spark returns of the dream , and portions of my memory return.  Childhood things, like climbing a tree with my books in hand, using a strong linear branch of that childhood tree as my stepping “stone” to the roof of my house to find a place that I could read, read, and read some more to my hearts content, and also watch the world go by from my lofty position. That child is the adult I wish to be, full of questions, without fear, and not afraid to perch myself high and learn from what I see below.

What is handed down to us from our parents, our forefathers and mothers that would make such an individual as me?  The pride I feel in seeing bits of myself in my children, makes me wonder what bits of my ancestors are present in me.  In the process of this self discovery, my journey of late, I have been fortunate to realize and been shown how others perceive me and view me.  It was eye opening and not a fun experience on several levels. Oh! But to be on the outside what we think we are on the inside!!!

The biting of my tongue/ or pen should I say, is it out of fear as other’s may judge me or perceive me in a way that I wish not to convey?  Yes, it was at many points along the way in my life. Perhaps now as I soon enter the second half century of my life, it was the impetus for me to set my words and thoughts in a blog as I now know that my thoughts do matter, and if I perhaps touch one other soul with my words, then this endeavor has been worth it.  Or on the flip side, did I bite my tongue in the past because I wanted to “save” others from my ferociousness that I knew lay dormant, but is now awakening in my soul and spirit?  Like a lioness ready to pounce, I stayed my pouncing for too many years to count.  I once wrote : “How many hurtful words must I endure before the lioness leaps?”…  I would say that I have effectively said – “None – any more.”

The pieces of ME, like a symphony of disjointed melodies, is coming together into a wonderful chorus.  At one point , peaceful and serene, then turning into a march , then a sensual melody of softness and hinting at romance so looked for and found, but lost again.  What was my melody of the past?  It was a meandering one, neither marching nor embracing, just listlessly floating along, carrying soothing promises of better things to come.

I envision my own life now and realize with more “opened” eyes, that perhaps things do all happen for reasons we don’t understand, but in time the meaning becomes clear.   I am thankful and grateful for all my past experiences, as I now know these learning experiences are what have shaped me into this person I am today.  We are all on our own individual journeys in this life.  Some paths may be similar, others may be at odds with our own, but it is not for us to judge another’s path of learning.  We are each given what we can handle, and absorb, and understand at differing levels of comprehension. I try and be more mindful that some in this world are operating on a different thought process level, and do not think as I do , but it does not lessen their experiences , opinions or way in which they live their life.

I end my first blog post with blessings sent out to all who read this, and to all those I love and cherish in this world.

Blessings and may YOUR LIGHT shine bright –

WhiteLion67