Today I was talking to God. I know that many think of the Almighty as someone or something you turn on at church like a radio. In my view, no. God is a 24 hour, seven days a week kind of entity. Alpha to Omega, how do you argue with that?
I however argue with the Lord Almighty with regularity. I scream, swear, plead, beg and any other means of communication you can name. What I have found is that our relationship is changing. No, God has not changed. God is as he/she/it always was I however am not.
I asked the Lord where am I? Why am I so… I could not make a list. Nothing was wrong but something was missing. For a moment I had clarity in my mind’s eye. I saw it clearly.
It was like a long and serious illness. Not a cancer or a lingering but more of an attack. As if my heart failed me. I knew I was ill and weak but continued to move forward. I ignored my health and kept moving adding more and more until finally the attack came. This experience a brief moment brought me to the precipice of death. I had been so ill and growing worse that I no longer knew health or even rest. I was fine and well wasn't i?
I saw myself hospitalized. I could see tubes running everywhere. Machines beeping and the respirator newly removed. I was exhausted and spent. Breathing was all that I could and would manage. What was left to do but examine the damage and to heal. Yes, heal. There was no way to avoid the eternal process of healing.
I had to learn to breathe again. I had to find my balance and the ability to place gravity in its rightful place. To regain use of my hands and to again hear the sounds that surrounded me in infinite abundance. I must start my long rehabilitation. Just as someone has a heart attack or has lost a limb I must regain the strength and agility I once had.
My body is well enough but the other aspects of my soul are absent. All things that make a great creation must be cared for. I and those around me were given a user manual but being human we and I thought our plan better. It was not! The vanity of mankind.
Instead of lifting weights and strengthening my arms I lift my eyes and look into the looking glass to see who looks back. I give words of love and strength. I share all the secrets that have been kept with that reflection. Tears, unconditional understanding and forgiveness are given. This causes weakness, soreness and days of weariness. To regain strength is not easy but it is worth the doing.
Walks in the sun give my body exercises but give my spirit the time to fly, to create or to just be still. As I move from hospital bed to a transition of care there is one thing that I do remember. When I close my eyes I was never alone. My hand was held with comfort and great compassion by God. I was not alone even in my deepest pain and misery. I could and still hear the calm of a voice repeating peace, peace, peace.
I know that I will not be well at once or in days… I grew ill over many years I will grow well after time. How much time is up to me and how hard I will work. Honestly I think physical therapy would be easier. This time I will follow the user manual. I have found that the short cuts are far from short. Peace, peace, peace…
Thursday, March 22, 2012
Thursday, February 23, 2012
Crisp hand stitch, lush scent and flaws
A crisp hand stitch linen shirt, this is how I see myself. I was made perfectly. I was pristine. A shirt or blouse maybe, untouched, unsoiled and lovely beyond words. Each seam was made with perfect hand stitches all flat and without pucker. The sleeves set without flaw. The fabric was of the best weave and untreated. Not pure white or manipulated to be anything but its natural tender hue.
I was the color of warmth, a tender embrace, the gentleness that comes from all things loving woven. I know that creation is a question many ask about. When I look at my creation, my life, my path and my God I find that I am that perfect linen shirt. I was carefully wrapped in tissue and place in a lined box closed with a gold seal. I was top drawer. I was something to be cherished and prized.
Oddly, once the box was opened and this perfectly made shirt was put into use all that was perfection changed. It needed to be change and made to fit the need of the immediate. After all how could anything be as it should? All must be changed for the betterment of it and for everyone one else.
Change the collar and cuffs to fit what is uniformed and expected. No one would want cuffs like that and the buttons surely no one in their right mind would… well if we cut off the originals and add these white flat buttons that will be more becoming to the shirt. Ah, but the color is not right. It is too, too different. Bleach it and take the color out. You may need to place it is a bath of boiling water and bleach but it will be for the best. Yes, it is hard on the fabric but sacrifices must be made. Now isn’t that better! Yes, the luster is less and the shirt lacks a certain something but it is better. Oddly, it no longer holds a press and seems to lie oddly.
These are acceptable changes. Now the shirt may be seen in public. Yes, it should meet standards. Very good! Now then this shirt must withstand the wearing. The wearing… what is in the wearing?
The perfect shirt must now face the elements of wear. Cold weather, scorching tempts and rain. Blazing sun, sub zeros and grass stains from falls and trips. Look at the stains of foolishness and utter laziness. All the inappropriate choices that left a tear here and a hole there.
The perfect fabric is now thinning, it has lost some of its strength and has been stretch to meet and cover all needs in the wearing. It was never really suited for its duties but met every challenge to its best. This left seams a touch ragged. Still, wash it and press it for appearance is key!
A crisp hand stitch linen shirt is now old, wrinkled, limp and balled in a corner. What use is it? What is it worth? Mysteriously, much, no a great deal... The original odd little buttons are still in existence. Slowly and with force each button is replaced by its original. The cuffs are let out and never did bleach touch it again. Only warm water of soft suds would wash it. The linen shirt is allowed to dry in only sun and in a soft breeze. The blemishes are repaired not perfect but strong and defined.
The color is not white but warm and glowing. There is the slightest hint of luster again. Light dances joyfully on its threads. Each darning and every imperfection make it distinctive and original. No other shirt looks feels or has a lush scent like this one worn shirt.
Now the shirt is worn for what it is not for what is of fashion. It is not for what fits others. The design is as it should be. The color and texture draws many to want to be near it and touch it. It is what it was created to be perfectly made and well seasoned with soiling, puckers and flaws.
I was the color of warmth, a tender embrace, the gentleness that comes from all things loving woven. I know that creation is a question many ask about. When I look at my creation, my life, my path and my God I find that I am that perfect linen shirt. I was carefully wrapped in tissue and place in a lined box closed with a gold seal. I was top drawer. I was something to be cherished and prized.
Oddly, once the box was opened and this perfectly made shirt was put into use all that was perfection changed. It needed to be change and made to fit the need of the immediate. After all how could anything be as it should? All must be changed for the betterment of it and for everyone one else.
Change the collar and cuffs to fit what is uniformed and expected. No one would want cuffs like that and the buttons surely no one in their right mind would… well if we cut off the originals and add these white flat buttons that will be more becoming to the shirt. Ah, but the color is not right. It is too, too different. Bleach it and take the color out. You may need to place it is a bath of boiling water and bleach but it will be for the best. Yes, it is hard on the fabric but sacrifices must be made. Now isn’t that better! Yes, the luster is less and the shirt lacks a certain something but it is better. Oddly, it no longer holds a press and seems to lie oddly.
These are acceptable changes. Now the shirt may be seen in public. Yes, it should meet standards. Very good! Now then this shirt must withstand the wearing. The wearing… what is in the wearing?
The perfect shirt must now face the elements of wear. Cold weather, scorching tempts and rain. Blazing sun, sub zeros and grass stains from falls and trips. Look at the stains of foolishness and utter laziness. All the inappropriate choices that left a tear here and a hole there.
The perfect fabric is now thinning, it has lost some of its strength and has been stretch to meet and cover all needs in the wearing. It was never really suited for its duties but met every challenge to its best. This left seams a touch ragged. Still, wash it and press it for appearance is key!
A crisp hand stitch linen shirt is now old, wrinkled, limp and balled in a corner. What use is it? What is it worth? Mysteriously, much, no a great deal... The original odd little buttons are still in existence. Slowly and with force each button is replaced by its original. The cuffs are let out and never did bleach touch it again. Only warm water of soft suds would wash it. The linen shirt is allowed to dry in only sun and in a soft breeze. The blemishes are repaired not perfect but strong and defined.
The color is not white but warm and glowing. There is the slightest hint of luster again. Light dances joyfully on its threads. Each darning and every imperfection make it distinctive and original. No other shirt looks feels or has a lush scent like this one worn shirt.
Now the shirt is worn for what it is not for what is of fashion. It is not for what fits others. The design is as it should be. The color and texture draws many to want to be near it and touch it. It is what it was created to be perfectly made and well seasoned with soiling, puckers and flaws.
Sunday, January 1, 2012
Happy New Year, intestinal fortitude, scoring in the top percentile?
Happy New Year! I have decided that this will be the year of BCarol. After the last several years the years have not been mine. They have been years of survival, intestinal fortitude and out and out madness. I feel that I can say this outwardly and not take it as a personal assault on all things BCarol.
However less than 14 hours into the new year of BCarol I found myself in a sea of doubt and reinstating survival mechanisms that are quick, assured but all too bad for the new and improved me. 14 hours? I was asleep for 8 of them. This God, karma, higher power thing is always ready to test and challenge.
Okay so test on. The question is will I pass? Will I score in the top percentile? Will I look for a medicinal beverage and stand still. Hmmmm, now that is the question. I have found that I will not drink nor will I stand still. I got it going on!!!
First, I am not crazy and I do not make things up. I know what I heard and I am bright enough to comprehend. I have come to realize that I am not the easiest person to approach and that I can be rather forceful. Okay, many cannot face up to that and I understand. I am scary. However if you are going to claim to be an adult and want to hold the title talk to me strait. Let me lick my wounds and move on. It is an adult thing.
I can and do only control me. Wooo-Hoooo! Now what to do with this? Walk away and look like a poor looser? Carry a chip on my shoulder? Hahahaha… Hope to be given a small crust of praise… Not so much. I will do what I do, be as apt as possible and continue on to the bigger prize. Which for me is my education and moving on to a more loving me. Yes, that includes love of others and that of myself. I have found that I can forgive and lift others but me not so much... Why? I am working on that and it is something that another 25 years of therapy may answer. Maybe?
One item that has pushed me is a family that I have come to know well. The matriarch of this family has been diagnosed with cancer. Not just cancer but stage 4 inoperable lung cancer. It is as if gravity has strengthened 10 fold and not only my body but also my spirit is cemented to the floor. I cry thinking of it and I cry for this family as a whole. What will the future hold and what angst, drama and loss will each day bring? Then I think what joy, laughter and love will each day bring?
For me there is nothing I can do to ease any of it and there is not a word to help. I pray, I hope and I pray again for this family. If I or you died today could we die in peace? I do not know. I do know for myself this is a time of reflection and the joy of it. Will tears be shed for me? Will I think of the joy of life or the what if’s?
Momma T has given me something that she will never know. Children who have showed me what family can be. What a child’s love looks like and what courage is. A Damn fine life! This is only what I know of the pages of her book. It is full of words and chapters and I have read only a few brief paragraphs. Life comes into focus when you look beyond your self-absorbed myopic viewpoint. Lessons abound if we stop and listen.
New Years day one! Life changing. Hmmmm, the year of BCarol is good. Things to do. People to write. Life to taste. Going forward and protecting the resources that are me… Yes, me. What is mine? A crap load. What is valuable? Me and my potential of course!
The goals for 2012?
1 Drink more water
2 sleep eight hours a night (no more no less)
3 find a new job
4 get the hell off of facebook
5 choose the people I associate with exceedingly carefully
6 meditate daily
7 get my ass to the gym
8 stick to a regular schedule
9 lunch away from my desk
10 grad school!
Not bad I even have all the Christmas stuff put away. Okay day two I am ready…
However less than 14 hours into the new year of BCarol I found myself in a sea of doubt and reinstating survival mechanisms that are quick, assured but all too bad for the new and improved me. 14 hours? I was asleep for 8 of them. This God, karma, higher power thing is always ready to test and challenge.
Okay so test on. The question is will I pass? Will I score in the top percentile? Will I look for a medicinal beverage and stand still. Hmmmm, now that is the question. I have found that I will not drink nor will I stand still. I got it going on!!!
First, I am not crazy and I do not make things up. I know what I heard and I am bright enough to comprehend. I have come to realize that I am not the easiest person to approach and that I can be rather forceful. Okay, many cannot face up to that and I understand. I am scary. However if you are going to claim to be an adult and want to hold the title talk to me strait. Let me lick my wounds and move on. It is an adult thing.
I can and do only control me. Wooo-Hoooo! Now what to do with this? Walk away and look like a poor looser? Carry a chip on my shoulder? Hahahaha… Hope to be given a small crust of praise… Not so much. I will do what I do, be as apt as possible and continue on to the bigger prize. Which for me is my education and moving on to a more loving me. Yes, that includes love of others and that of myself. I have found that I can forgive and lift others but me not so much... Why? I am working on that and it is something that another 25 years of therapy may answer. Maybe?
One item that has pushed me is a family that I have come to know well. The matriarch of this family has been diagnosed with cancer. Not just cancer but stage 4 inoperable lung cancer. It is as if gravity has strengthened 10 fold and not only my body but also my spirit is cemented to the floor. I cry thinking of it and I cry for this family as a whole. What will the future hold and what angst, drama and loss will each day bring? Then I think what joy, laughter and love will each day bring?
For me there is nothing I can do to ease any of it and there is not a word to help. I pray, I hope and I pray again for this family. If I or you died today could we die in peace? I do not know. I do know for myself this is a time of reflection and the joy of it. Will tears be shed for me? Will I think of the joy of life or the what if’s?
Momma T has given me something that she will never know. Children who have showed me what family can be. What a child’s love looks like and what courage is. A Damn fine life! This is only what I know of the pages of her book. It is full of words and chapters and I have read only a few brief paragraphs. Life comes into focus when you look beyond your self-absorbed myopic viewpoint. Lessons abound if we stop and listen.
New Years day one! Life changing. Hmmmm, the year of BCarol is good. Things to do. People to write. Life to taste. Going forward and protecting the resources that are me… Yes, me. What is mine? A crap load. What is valuable? Me and my potential of course!
The goals for 2012?
1 Drink more water
2 sleep eight hours a night (no more no less)
3 find a new job
4 get the hell off of facebook
5 choose the people I associate with exceedingly carefully
6 meditate daily
7 get my ass to the gym
8 stick to a regular schedule
9 lunch away from my desk
10 grad school!
Not bad I even have all the Christmas stuff put away. Okay day two I am ready…
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