Pots, vessels, jars, vases…. They can be alabaster, clay, porcelain, and bisque…. Some are of great beauty and other practical and utilitarian. As I look at vessels I never think of what is inside only the purpose of the said piece. Is it historic? Does it demonstrate the great skill of the maker? Is it BCE (Before the Common Era)? I am looking at vessels differently today.
My pastor brought this to mind and I could not remove this idea from my consciousness. I started to look at every being as a vessel. I know that this may seem simple and benign but it is not. The human race is very much driven by the visual. I am no less guilty of this view. I enjoy stunning shoes, men with broad shoulders and the color purple. If you look at this from the standpoint of faith it is different.
God, your higher power whatever you follow has created many containers but what we do not ask is what is this container to carry? We all know that when we look at a person we can see many aspects. That is why vessels struck me. We are all vessel carrying something.
My issue is that we so rarely see what is being carried. We see the shape, color and size. We see quality of material, style and what we deem as acceptable form. Simple we look with our own view of beauty and prejudice. I will not talk about what is right or wrong with the concepts of humans. That is a debate that will be with us through millennia. My question goes beyond that.
I see myself as a large terra cotta container. My design is that of God’s eye. I would much rather resemble an elegant Ming Dynasty vase. I have dreamed of being an alabaster jar. I imagine my skin as fine Limoges porcelain. I am still plain clay and will always be.
I do not feel sorry for myself because of my material make up. It is practical and affords that ability to carry any numbers of items. It also protects the contents from damage. The question is how do we know what we carry and what everyone else carries. There in lie the rub.
During the last year of self-exploration and development of new medicinal beverages I have found that no matter how I feel I am carrying what God poured inside me and there is not a thing I can do about! I must acquiesce. This is one of those suck it up and deal with it realizations in life. You have faith, God gives you grace you have not choice but to go with it.
My particular container holds many things. Most of them have been created by my environment, education and society. Some of these self-creations are good, bad and ugly but that is what I have added not what I was created with.
Ah, created with. I know what I have that God gave me and to be honest it is not easy. In fact it is something that I have desperately tried to turn off. I did but the cost was more than I could bear. Sometimes God let’s you win just to show how stubborn you are and that he/she knows better. My container is full of empathy. I know you are saying how bad can that be? Let me share a few of the pit falls of empathy.
First somewhere on my forehead are the words “tell her everything”. This is a fine thing for friends and family BUT this is being read by the general public. In restaurants, grocery stores, public rest rooms, classrooms, street corners anywhere in the world. You are thinking what could anyone tell her that could be that difficult after all these are people whom she has no relationship with. Three examples.
I walked into a store and the clerk told me about her issues within her marriage. Her husband could not make it through the day without a drink. He would rather drink than have sex with her. His relationship with his children had stopped. He had anger issues due to his job. This is from a person who all I asked is does this come in purple? I offered some local services that may be helpful to her situation and she seemed to feel better and genuinely smiled. Great for her!
Another incident? A man was divorcing his wife. I learned that the marriage had been on the rocks for sometime. I learned the following without asking. No sex but if his soon to be ex-wife knew that he would divorce her she would have accommodated his needs. I did not need to know that. In addition he was not able to have an erection even with the assistance of medication. I would think that I had a look of terror on my face but apparently I must look calm and angelic? Not so much on the inside.
Yet another sales clerk. I wanted to know if a shoe came in my size. Simple? I learned that she is a single mom, had moved home with her mother after she left the father of her baby. This is not so bad until she starts to tell me about her precarious financial situation. Apparently her ex was using her information to open accounts. We are not talking a visa but with the phone company. He had managed to run up a $900 phone bill in her name and she was about to be garnished. Tears followed I offered tissues from my handbag and offered her information to a local attorney who I know does pro-bono work. All I wanted was a shoe.
What I find is that I am like a jar full of cool water. I offer dipper after dipper of release, kindness and liberation. A gift but the cost for me is the slow and steady emptying of me. For sometime I could not refill myself. I had not a drop of water to offer. The color of this jar my jar had gone from a drenched deep terra cotta to a dry colorless gray.
My choice was to not feel and not to be in the world. It was easy and worked very well. I started to not feel. A simple answer that met all my current needs. This was not without cost (this is were God gets you). There only seems to be one electrical box and if you hit the master switch it all turns off. Every emotion. Desire, passion, humor are difficult to live without. Sadness and mourning are lost. This is a karma kind of aspect.
You cannot have one without the other. Happy/Sad, Love/Hate, Pain/Pleasure. I turned off what I thought was a burden but is truly a gift. I now know that I must keep myself full. I had to find a spring to fill myself from. This is a theoretical spring. Of course God tells you what it is you need but I failed to listen.
My spring is really amazing. The flow is incredible. It contains the artwork of O’Keefe and Seurat. The flowers of my garden. Cats that sleep on my head. A really great book. The sounds of Art Tatum. Incredible friends. The advice of a five year old. Church choir. The taste of lemon. Prayers being answered or not. Giggles. Cooking and baking for friend and those I love.
My spring now also includes writing. I am not Hemmingway or Walker. Honestly, I could give a rip what anyone thinks but I think, I write and I feel the spring is cool and my color is deep, rich and vibrant again.
My pastor brought this to mind and I could not remove this idea from my consciousness. I started to look at every being as a vessel. I know that this may seem simple and benign but it is not. The human race is very much driven by the visual. I am no less guilty of this view. I enjoy stunning shoes, men with broad shoulders and the color purple. If you look at this from the standpoint of faith it is different.
God, your higher power whatever you follow has created many containers but what we do not ask is what is this container to carry? We all know that when we look at a person we can see many aspects. That is why vessels struck me. We are all vessel carrying something.
My issue is that we so rarely see what is being carried. We see the shape, color and size. We see quality of material, style and what we deem as acceptable form. Simple we look with our own view of beauty and prejudice. I will not talk about what is right or wrong with the concepts of humans. That is a debate that will be with us through millennia. My question goes beyond that.
I see myself as a large terra cotta container. My design is that of God’s eye. I would much rather resemble an elegant Ming Dynasty vase. I have dreamed of being an alabaster jar. I imagine my skin as fine Limoges porcelain. I am still plain clay and will always be.
I do not feel sorry for myself because of my material make up. It is practical and affords that ability to carry any numbers of items. It also protects the contents from damage. The question is how do we know what we carry and what everyone else carries. There in lie the rub.
During the last year of self-exploration and development of new medicinal beverages I have found that no matter how I feel I am carrying what God poured inside me and there is not a thing I can do about! I must acquiesce. This is one of those suck it up and deal with it realizations in life. You have faith, God gives you grace you have not choice but to go with it.
My particular container holds many things. Most of them have been created by my environment, education and society. Some of these self-creations are good, bad and ugly but that is what I have added not what I was created with.
Ah, created with. I know what I have that God gave me and to be honest it is not easy. In fact it is something that I have desperately tried to turn off. I did but the cost was more than I could bear. Sometimes God let’s you win just to show how stubborn you are and that he/she knows better. My container is full of empathy. I know you are saying how bad can that be? Let me share a few of the pit falls of empathy.
First somewhere on my forehead are the words “tell her everything”. This is a fine thing for friends and family BUT this is being read by the general public. In restaurants, grocery stores, public rest rooms, classrooms, street corners anywhere in the world. You are thinking what could anyone tell her that could be that difficult after all these are people whom she has no relationship with. Three examples.
I walked into a store and the clerk told me about her issues within her marriage. Her husband could not make it through the day without a drink. He would rather drink than have sex with her. His relationship with his children had stopped. He had anger issues due to his job. This is from a person who all I asked is does this come in purple? I offered some local services that may be helpful to her situation and she seemed to feel better and genuinely smiled. Great for her!
Another incident? A man was divorcing his wife. I learned that the marriage had been on the rocks for sometime. I learned the following without asking. No sex but if his soon to be ex-wife knew that he would divorce her she would have accommodated his needs. I did not need to know that. In addition he was not able to have an erection even with the assistance of medication. I would think that I had a look of terror on my face but apparently I must look calm and angelic? Not so much on the inside.
Yet another sales clerk. I wanted to know if a shoe came in my size. Simple? I learned that she is a single mom, had moved home with her mother after she left the father of her baby. This is not so bad until she starts to tell me about her precarious financial situation. Apparently her ex was using her information to open accounts. We are not talking a visa but with the phone company. He had managed to run up a $900 phone bill in her name and she was about to be garnished. Tears followed I offered tissues from my handbag and offered her information to a local attorney who I know does pro-bono work. All I wanted was a shoe.
What I find is that I am like a jar full of cool water. I offer dipper after dipper of release, kindness and liberation. A gift but the cost for me is the slow and steady emptying of me. For sometime I could not refill myself. I had not a drop of water to offer. The color of this jar my jar had gone from a drenched deep terra cotta to a dry colorless gray.
My choice was to not feel and not to be in the world. It was easy and worked very well. I started to not feel. A simple answer that met all my current needs. This was not without cost (this is were God gets you). There only seems to be one electrical box and if you hit the master switch it all turns off. Every emotion. Desire, passion, humor are difficult to live without. Sadness and mourning are lost. This is a karma kind of aspect.
You cannot have one without the other. Happy/Sad, Love/Hate, Pain/Pleasure. I turned off what I thought was a burden but is truly a gift. I now know that I must keep myself full. I had to find a spring to fill myself from. This is a theoretical spring. Of course God tells you what it is you need but I failed to listen.
My spring is really amazing. The flow is incredible. It contains the artwork of O’Keefe and Seurat. The flowers of my garden. Cats that sleep on my head. A really great book. The sounds of Art Tatum. Incredible friends. The advice of a five year old. Church choir. The taste of lemon. Prayers being answered or not. Giggles. Cooking and baking for friend and those I love.
My spring now also includes writing. I am not Hemmingway or Walker. Honestly, I could give a rip what anyone thinks but I think, I write and I feel the spring is cool and my color is deep, rich and vibrant again.
